#i thought i already had enough with the aching back and the wedding talk bUT HOW WELL FED I WAS AFTER THAT IS2G

[gutsby]

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

[oneforthemunny]

🧸🥣🌀

modern!eddie, angst, proposal/wedding. i feel like i might get attacked for this one sorry.

"Hey," Eddie's voice came from behind you, still in his grey suit but the jacket and the tie had been shed, the boutonniere upside down and smushed from the reception.

"Lost you in there." Eddie grinned, eyes a little red rimmed from the beer he'd been downing at the open bar.

You didn't respond, fingers drumming against your champagne flute, looking out at the venue strung in lights. "You alright?" Eddie's brows pinched, moving beside you.

"Yeah," Your voice was tighter than you liked, swallowing a lump that seemed to only grow, choking you more and more. "Just... needed some air."

"Yeah, it is a little hot in there. The smoke machine is a killer. Feels like I'm at prom again." Eddie snorted lightly. "My hair's gonna look like Hagrid's by the end of the night."

Normally you would've smiled, grinned with narrowed eyes and retorted with something that teetered on playful and snarky. Instead, your gaze was held, distant as you looked over the rolling hills.

"Hey, okay," Eddie leaned against the railing, looking up at you. "What's going on?"

"Nothing-"

"-Nah, don't give me that." Eddie shook his head. "What's going on? You were fine earlier, and then you left."

Your nose burned, fiery with emotion that threatened to bubble out, to spill over. "Baby," Eddie cooed, his hand brushing over yours. "What's wrong?"

You hesitated, contemplating shaking him off and going back inside, back to the table where he couldn't confront you. Back to the table that was the same reason you had left.

"I just... You know, everyone kept asking if we were next." You muttered, refusing to look at him, eyes trained on your glass. "When we'd finally get married."

Eddie paused, lips twitching the way they did when he was uncomfortable. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You looked at him.

"Did you tell them we didn't want to get married?" Eddie pressed lightly, his own fingers beginning to drum on the concrete of the balcony.

"No," You bit, a raging burst of fury shooting through your system. "I told them you didn't want to get married."

"Baby," Eddie's face fell, a sigh accompanying his words. "Can we- Can we not do this here? Please?"

We've already talked about this.

You know how I feel.

It's just a piece of paper. We're already basically married. Why does it matter?

I don't want to get married. Never wanted it, and I'm not changing my mind. Doesn't mean I don't love you.

All the words he didn't say now but still lingered from times before. The rejection, the bitter sting of your dreams shattered. You thought someone as affectionate as Eddie was would jump at the first mention of marriage.

Here, watching Jeff and his bride dance, laugh and cry at the alter, pouring out promises and oaths to the other, it was hard not to feel bitter. The widened glances that came your way with the dreaded question, the twitching of lips when you'd reply. Every Facebook post you'd see of another classmate from high school getting married, engaged, honeymooning. It made you rage with jealous frustration.

"C'mon, let's just go back in and have fun. Please? I don't want to fight about this right now." Eddie pleaded, eyes rounding sweetly enough that it made your heart pang with affection, maybe with aching hurt.

You didn't respond, jaw clenched in what you hoped was a neutral expression- one that would pass for the resting bitch face you were known for, and not a tear filled one.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

Azriel x f!Reader

One of the series I’m currently working on. Enjoy!

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse, trauma and death, swearing

Masterlist.

Princess Masterlist.

Chapter 12

“Fuck you” you shouted and slammed the door shut, leaving a whimper at the pain on your hand.

Azriel disappeared for two weeks, you knew he was still in the house, but he avoided you like the plague. At first you didn’t mind his absence but now two weeks later your hands wouldn’t stop trembling no matter how often you massaged them, it wasn’t the same. Azriel’s touch was like a light breeze on your hands, yet it was hard enough to release the pressure of the muscles and even though you spent more than an hour every day trying to sooth your aching ends it wasn’t enough. You tried looking for him in the house and even sent Claude to find him but failed miserably. You knew that Claude found him even though it hissed in your ear that it wouldn’t lie to you and you decided to act like you believed it in fear of losing the only part of him you had left. That was a thought that you kept deep in your mind under several locks to hide it from Rhysand and even yourself. In the past two weeks you realized that Azriel’s silence and darkness felt soothing and gave you the will to regain the control of your life. With a sigh you decided to join the night family for dinner, you wrapped your hands with bandages to hide the tremor and walked to the dining room. Everyone was already sitting around the big table -Azriel too and their heads snapped to you. The shadowsinger immediately glanced at your wrapped hands and frowned.

After a few greetings you sat across him and fell into conversation with Nesta.

Cassian cleared his throat interrupting you “You missed training today” he said to you.

You quickly scanned around the table and almost blushed when everyone’s eyes fell on you.

“I was tired” you mumbled.

“Will you come tomorrow?” he pressed.

“I don’t think so, I need some time for myself” you lied and hid your hands under the table.

No one seemed to notice except for Azriel who kept staring at you with furrowed brows. He nudged your foot with his own and shook his head questioningly when you looked at him. Oh now he cares. You thought and rolled your eyes before looking away and ignoring him for the rest of the dinner.

“I want to talk to you about something” Rhysand spoke to you. You nodded and waited for him to continue. “I talked with Helion and we would like to try something on your hands”.

You blinked. “What?”

“Maybe he can speed up the process of healing and maybe make the scars less visible.” He stared at you, trying to read your face.

“Maybe?” you asked.

“He doesn’t think he will be able to do that now, if he was here when it happened he is certain that he would make them disappear or at least not visible from a certain distance.” He explained.

You snorted “well if you go to Hewn City and I stay here you won’t be able to see them now, so certain distance doesn’t actually make a difference.”

Rhysand smirked and shook his head. “Anyway he agreed to speed up the healing process so you can continue training without pain. Cassian told me that you started your full training again and that you cry out every time you punch.”

He was right and even though you hadn’t met Helion, everyone said that he is kind and fair. “I would like that” you replied and Azriel scoffed.

“Tell her” he snarled at Rhysand making you stare the high lord questioningly.

“During the session you will be in tremendous pain.” He said softly. “Helion’s power will pierce through your wounded skin in order to heal you from inside out.”

“But my hands healed weeks ago that’s why Madja took off the bandages.”

“The outer layer healed, the damage was deep that’s why it hurts every time you touch something, Madja took the bandages off because the risk of getting infected doesn’t exist anymore.” Rhys explained. “But from what I can see you wrapped them again.”

You hid your hands even deeper under the table and sighed. “It soothes me” you replied.

“So should I invite Helion here?” he asked.

You didn’t know why but your eyes fell on Azriel, and you tried to figure out if he agrees. The shadowsinger stared back at you and quirked a brow. “It’s your decision” his expression seemed to say even though he remained silent.

Nesta noticed the small interaction and cleared her throat. “What do you think about this Azriel?” she asked and her hand fell on your thigh leaving a soft squeeze.

“I.. why me? It’s her decision.” He stuttered.

“Because you’ve been through this” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“If I had the opportunity then I think I would take it.” He shrugged.

You thought about it, everyone must be thinking that you’re a fool for not replying immediately but you’ve been in tremendous pain before, and you weren’t sure if you would survive it again. If Helion managed to help you then you would be able to go on missions with the girls, Cassian had said that they would start in a few weeks. But if he failed the healing process might be delayed.

“What if he fails?” you asked Rhysand.

“He won’t, at least on the healing part” he replied.

You hummed. “I don’t really care about the scars I have already made peace with the thought of having them forever”.

Azriel stared at his plate with a frown at the last statement.

“Okay I’ll do it” you announced.

“Perfect, please consider this an apology for the way you’ve been treated here.” Rhysand said and you nodded.

After dinner was over you returned to your room and Azriel slipped inside before you could close the door.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him but didn’t show your irritation not wanting to push him away.

“You bandaged your hands again” he noted.

With a sigh you unwrapped them and let him see the tremor and twitching.

“You’re not massaging them?” he frowned and quickly moved to your nightstand to take the ointment.

“I do but they won’t stop” you huffed.

He patted the bed “Come here”.

You quickly obliged and he knelt in front of you before grabbing your hands and started massaging them. His touch made you shudder and immediately your muscles relaxed. You suppressed a moan and closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of relief.

“Thank you” you whispered.

“I’m sorry for disappearing, I should’ve been here to help you.” he replied.

You took a deep breath. “I was awful to you, I just got so mad because you treated me differently and I reacted so poorly. I don’t blame you for what happened to me, at least not entirely.”

“I know… but I think you’re wrong. It’s entirely my fault and I will spend the rest of my life punishing myself for it” he shook his head “I don’t know why I always mess it up with you, I told you that I would help you heal and then I disappeared even though I knew that it was normal for you to react this way.”

“Maybe the Cauldron was wrong” you whispered, and he froze. “It usually is so easy between mates but look at us, we keep fighting and hurting each other with our words.”

He shook his head. “You should have seen Nesta and Cassian…” he paused “It doesn’t matter… we will reject the bond whenever you want.”

“I don’t want you to go mad” you stated.

“I won’t… I’m way stronger than most males.”

“Still this is something ancient…”

“Why do you care?” he asked and let go of your hands.

“Because I don’t want to harm you, even though you despise me, I don’t.” you shrugged.

“I don’t despise you” he furrowed his brows “listen… I know that I was a complete asshole to you, and I don’t want to defend myself for it, but I just wanted to keep you at a distance and to be honest the first days I completely hated the way you grew up. I kept thinking that you would never understand what I’ve been through, and I hated that I didn’t have the opportunity to be raised in a loving home like you. I guess I envied you.”

“You called me a princess…” you snorted “I grew up in a small cottage, we never bathed with hot water and some days we didn’t have food. My parents didn’t love me, they loved my potential… they called me their savior and brainwashed me so I could become an obedient little housewife to someone who would give them money and make their life easier. They wouldn’t care if my husband was abusive as long as they could enjoy his wealth.”

Azriel’s breath hitched, and you continued “It was really painful to realize all of this, but I did it when I came here and saw how the other females were. You see in my village most of the girls were brainwashed like me, so we never noticed that something was off. I’ve heard a few things about everyone’s past here and I know that it was way worse than mine but that doesn’t change the fact that I was abused too. I might not be able to understand your trauma, but I will respect it and I will stand next to all of you and support you if needed.”

Azriel’s eyes watered and he shook his head.  “I wish I could go back in time and change the way I treated you.”

You smiled softly at that “I think we should let the past go and focus on the present, we ruined the bond between us but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“Do you think we can leave all of this behind?” he asked sincerely.

“I think that it will take time and there will be times that we will fight but we will figure everything out eventually.”

He stood up and left the ointment on your nightstand.

“I’m willing to try it, maybe we can go to the city tomorrow I think I owe you a proper tour” he smiled.

“I would like that!” you smiled back, and he headed to the door.

“Azriel.” You called him and he stopped. “I would really appreciate if you came to my sessions with Helion… if you have time… Its okay if you don’t want to” you chewed on your bottom lip.

“Of course I’ll come” he said and with that he was gone.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Helion arrived the next day, ruining your plans with Azriel to go to the city. Rhysand explained to him what you talked about and then he left you with Helion and Azriel.

“I will start with the left one” Helion explained and took your hand between his warm palms. “When I heal most of the damage, we will do both simultaneously” he informed you and you nodded. “You will feel a lot of pain, do you want something to bite?”

“Should I?” you asked, and he nodded.

Azriel quickly left the room and came back with a piece of leather.

“This used to be a belt, I washed it” he informed you and gave it to you.

“Okay let’s do this” you said and bit down on the leather.

Helion’s eyes became brighter, and you felt his power piercing through your skin, your eyes watered and the piece of leather seemed to groan at the pressure. You felt nauseous and goosebumps appeared on your soft skin. Azriel immediately grabbed your other arm a bit higher than where the damage was, and his shadows slithered around your body anxiously. The pain made you see stars and you were sure you would faint, but Azriel’s siphons started beaming and you felt a wave of power inside you, urging you to stay strong. His shadows hissed at Helion but remained on you, wiping away your tears and caressing your cheeks. Sweat was running down on Helion’s forehead, and his eyes closed before he stopped.

“I need a minute” he panted and walked out.

Azriel immediately removed the belt from your mouth and fetched you a glass of water. “You did so good” he praised you and removed a strand of hair from your face.

You could only nod.

“Should we stop?” he asked you worriedly.

“No no” you mumbled and took a deep breath.

Helion walked inside again and grabbed your right hand. You nodded and Azriel placed the belt between your teeth.

Everything repeated and Azriel’s power flowed in your body giving you strength and you could swear that it took some of the pain away. When Helion was done your eyelids felt heavy and your body gave up. The last thing you felt was Azriel as he carried you to your room and tucked you in, he probably thought that you were unconscious because before he left he placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

If I forgot to tag someone please let me know! If someone wants to be removed from the taglist please tell me I won't be offended. What do you think about Chapter 12?

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[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 12

MASTERLIST

“Yo Parrish, guess what just came in for you!”

Turning towards the office, Delilah allowed the excitement to bubble up inside her knowing exactly what had arrived at her mentor’s doorstep. Accepting the letter from him, she smiled as she opened it up and the details of her new developmental deal stared right back at her. At last, confirmation that in just three months’ time, her life as a struggling Jill-of-all-trades trapped in lowly, boring Pensacola was going to be a thing of the past.

She wanted to share this news with her father. She wished he was here. She would share her joy with her mother, her sister, and the man she loved. She’d already shared with the “other” man in her life, the one that had pushed her this far to begin with. It felt good to tell him, even though every thought of him was plagued with this weird, aching mix of guilt and desire all the time these days.

Ever since she returned from her tryout two weeks ago, Tank noticed there was something off about his star pupil. She was still sharp and solid in the ring and the light in her eyes still seemed to shine for this business. But there was something else weighing her down and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Running his hand over the top of his shorn head, he reached out and snapped his fingers in front of her face, rolling his eyes when she masked her true feelings by playfully blowing a noisy raspberry. "Earth to Miss Parrish. Talk to me. What’s goin’ through your mind right now?" he asked.

With a sigh, Delilah took a seat in the chair across from his desk and crossed her legs in the roomy seat. Letting her eyes skim down the second page of the contract where the finances were detailed, she assessed, "It's a dream come true, Tank. The money's a lot better than I could have hoped, especially for developmental."

Tank nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I woulda killed for this kinda money when I first started out," he agreed, looking over the numbers in the contract. "Fifty-five thousand a year for a rookie, even before tax, ain’t no joke. And with multiple appearances a month on NXT? Not a bad gig, girl. Not bad at all."

"Well it better be, it was hard enough to entice Andre as it is," Delilah said, "The money’s good and all, but I care more about wrestling than anything else. And let’s be realistic. I could spend months, maybe years in the Performance Center before I’m ever let on NXT. It happened to the Rock’s daughter. Other star candidates, too. I’ll just focus on working my ass off until they deem me ready to go."

Tank scoffed at her attempts to downplay her worth. “I might be biased when I say this shit, but them girls can’t lace your boots,” he assured her. “And what’s this talk about enticing Andre? Is he still digging his feet in?” Though she had told him about nearly every fight she'd had with her fiancé since she first stepped through the doors of his gym, Tank had always done his best to keep his professional distance from her relationship. Delilah Parrish was the closest thing he had to a star, and all he was truly concerned about was making sure that she stayed focused and happy.

Blowing out a long breath, she crossed her arms over her legs and drew one knee up to her chest. "In his defense, I am asking him to change his entire life for me," she acknowledged, knowing that it was the only real argument she had. To be honest, she was yet to get a real answer out of Andre since they had started fighting over her dreams, and only left it alone because the fighting had subsided and he seemed to be legitimately putting in more effort for her. He worked out with her when his schedule allowed and accompanied her to a few of her matches. In exchange, she was putting in more effort with their wedding plans, hoping to maybe finally do the deed before the move. Right now, things between the couple were as stable as she could hope for.

Tank, like everyone else she had talked about the situation with, just shook his head. "You a team, right? Ain’t that what gettin’ married is?" When she rolled her eyes, he chuckled. "Yeah, that's why I never did it and never will. Honestly, though, Dee, I think you need to talk to him about it. Ask him, point blank, exactly what his issues are. See if you guys can work through them between now and when you move."

Maybe they could. But did she really want to start bringing up old dirt again now that there was some semblance of harmony between her and Andre? If anything, these days, the burden of their tension was shifted to her. Because two weeks had passed and she still had no answers. The realization was more powerful than ever. Her relationship with Andre had been forever changed by what she did with Josh and it was only a matter of time before Andre found out. And if, when, that happened, there would be no more fixing anything.

Especially not with her currently bookmarking the coordinates to a location just sent by said lover of hers, who was back in town and asking her to come over.

Delilah looked up from her phone, swallowing down the emotion climbing up her throat. "And if we can't work through them? What happens then?" she asked Tank.

Her voice was so fragile, like a little child, that he fought the urge to hug her and tell her it would all be okay. "You'll figure it out. Just know that I’ll be there for whatever you need regardless," was all he offered, fully aware that she was an adult and ultimately, her personal decisions were hers.

Delilah nodded, grateful for his mentorship yet eager to change the subject before she said something she regretted. "Thanks. So, now that I'm using a submission move as my finisher, I think I need more work on my core strength…" 

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

“Oh my god, stop,” Delilah panted, her voice stuck somewhere between a giggle and a gasp as he dramatically peppered her face and neck with pecks and kisses, his big hands all over her naked body.

“Mmm, you make the prettiest sounds when you come for me, mama,” Josh murmured, caressing her breast, their little play fight quickly becoming more serious as he switched to slower, much more passionate kisses that had her moaning into his mouth, “So damn pretty, make me wanna go another round...”

Delilah cupped his face in her small hands, her thumbs smoothing over his beard as she forced him to focus on her words, “Babe, chill…I need to recover a bit. You’re a…lot…to take in.”

Josh grinned proudly. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, rewarding her with one more long, charged kiss before tapping her ass and pulling out of her with a quiet groan. Delilah rolled onto her back and stretched out on the plushness of the sofa, watching him slide his briefs back on. The sunlight streaming from the window illuminated his tatted back muscles and toned legs, the scrumptiousness of them making her squeeze her thighs together from lust and seriously tempting her to drag him back onto the sofa and take up his offer for round two.

Slipping into his t-shirt, she followed him out of the conversation pit and to the kitchen island where he was pouring two glasses of Merlot. "This is a really nice place, Josh," she complimented, finally getting to look around since they had barely made it past the front door before they were all over each other like dogs in heat. "I like that there's not much furniture yet. Just the bare essentials but it gives the house a more open layout than it already is."

"Thanks, I love it," Josh answered, handing her a glass of wine as she perched on the stool next to him, his eyes on his iPad showing his backstage promo with Bron Breakker on YouTube. "I can just come in and chill when I get tired of Atlanta. A couple minutes’ drive to the beach, nice little pool outside and gym area. It’s the perfect escape, uce." He gave her a long look. “Shame you won’t be around these parts no more, though.”

Delilah laughed and kissed her teeth. “Not you talkin’ like you don’t got other reasons for coming to Pensacola. And I see me definitely coming back to visit every once in a while. My mama and sister are here. You got family here, too, right?”

“Yeah, but it ain’t the same.” It was a silly thing to say considering the fact that despite her being here with him right now, Delilah was still all about Andre. Josh knew that. Even when she was with him in Orlando, he had sensed that her fiancé was still very much on her mind. But he had to admit that deep down he was happy that Andre was being a giant asshole, that the dude clearly didn't know what he had in this beautiful woman who was going places, that she had ended up seeking comfort in his arms and still was. 

Moving on quickly so she couldn’t react to his statement, he reached into his open carry-on suitcase and pulled out a gift bag. “Oh, by the way, I got you something," he announced. Sliding the gift box labeled Swarovski over to her, he chuckled at the gasp she let out, a bewildered look on her face.

“What’s this?” she inquired, looking over at him with wide eyes.

"Just a lil' sumn to celebrate your brand new contract as a WWE Superstar. We co-workers now, girl," he said with a big smile, watching her loosen the ribbon from the box and remove the lid. Nestled in velvet was a simple diamond necklace with a matching bracelet and earrings, the stones gleaming with flawless clarity. His heart warmed at her facial expressions and her happy smile as she looked up at him.

“You didn’t have to do this. You’ve already helped me so much, Josh,” Delilah insisted, her voice thickening with emotion. “You’re the reason I got this contract, the reason I’m about to start living my dream. I can’t begin to tell you just how grateful I am for you.”

Josh felt a smile of his own touch his lips. “Nah, baby. You did that,” he replied tenderly. “You’re the one who made the decision to follow your dreams. I just…made a few suggestions, ain’t nothin’-”

He was silenced by Delilah flinging her arms around him, her body angling to face him as she tucked her face in the crook of his neck. In turn, his hand lowered down to her hip, holding her close as he brushed his lips over her temple. 

“I take it you like it?” he asked.

“I love it. Thank you,” she whispered back. She would figure out how to explain away the gift to Andre, but right now she was consumed with gratitude, and maybe something else for this wonderful gesture from a man who, despite the complication between them, had grown into one of her closest friends. 

Her phone buzzing from across the room interrupted their embrace. Her reluctance to unhand him for the few seconds it took to retrieve the device humored Josh as he watched her slide off the seat, his gaze fixated on the tantalizing sway of her hips and ass still visible through his shirt that was baggy on her.

Delilah winced as she found her phone face down on the floor by the couch, no doubt knocked off while they were knocking boots. She was relieved to see the screen wasn’t cracked and even more relieved to see that the notifications were only from her favorite wrestling gossip blog and nothing more serious or concerning.

Or so she thought.

Gossip Gworl Piping Hot Tea: Exclusive pics of Jey Uso and his (ex?) wife Tameka.

She should have cleared out the notification, knowing full well of the drama that was about to be unleashed. But her curiosity was too great. With jolted nerves, she unlocked her phone to read the article.

Several pictures, at least six in number, of Josh and another woman sitting cozily in some park. His wife, according to the comments. They were recent pics as well, just last week. Wearing sunglasses and a SnapBack backwards on his head, his arm was looped around her neck with their fingers linked together. Delilah’s heart raced faster, her fingers shaky as she scrolled through more pictures, of him and her sitting in a circle with whom she assumed were their sons…Of him kissing her cheek, a big grin on her face as she adjusted her sun hat...

It was a steep drop, the plummet of her stomach. A dull ache that materialized in her chest and only seemed to grow stronger with each breath she took. Yet somehow, with this suffocating myriad of emotions swelling inside her, she still managed to put one foot in front of the other, her numb legs steering her towards the kitchen in search of answers she already knew she wouldn’t like.

“You ready to eat, bae? I did my best makin’ this chili con carne so don't-” Josh turned around, startled to find her right in front of him with her phone in his face. 

“That’s your wife, right? The one you’re still separated and not divorced from?” Delilah questioned, her tone accusing. She watched his eyes frantically scan her phone, and his reaction told her everything she needed to know.

Josh sighed, reluctantly meeting her fiery glare. “Babe…We was at an event with our kids. We…we had to put up a united front…”

She smiled, the wry stretch of her full lips devoid of any humor. “Mm-hmm. That looks real united to me.” Stomping back over to the living room area, she stripped off his t-shirt and grabbed her clothes. “I gotta go,” she murmured.

“Baby…Dee, wait,” Josh trailed behind her, making one excuse or the other, but she tuned him out, focusing on getting dressed and packing her things and getting the fuck out of there. 

He wasn’t even to blame, not fully at least. This was on her. She had been so enamored with him and his aura, swept up in his sweet talk and his gestures and the dizzying sex that she had forgotten she was messing around with what was essentially a married man. This was the bitter dose of reality that she sorely needed, and she was grabbing onto it tightly with both hands.

Josh was still following her around like a lost puppy; he was starting to babble, his words tumbling over one another as he tried to plead his case. But she didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t hear it. Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, she brushed past him only to be stopped by his hand catching her arm. “Delilah, look at me, please,” he implored, “Let me explain-”

Delilah shook her head, calmly extricating herself from his grasp. “There’s nothing to explain. I shouldn’t be here. I should never have been here, so I’m going home.” Her gaze fell on the gift box sitting abandoned on the countertop, and she felt like an even bigger fool. She pointed at it as she finally looked him in the face. “And that belongs to your wife. Not me.”

Ignoring the wounded look in his eyes, she made a beeline for the front door, fighting to shake off the burn of his eyes on her as she yanked the door open without another word and fled. Half-expecting him to come after her, she was ultimately grateful that he didn’t; the last thing she wanted was for him to see the anguish on her face.

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

Later that evening, Delilah was curled up in the loveseat watching Andre, blissfully unaware of his fiancée’s turmoil as he threw his head back laughing at a Chris Rock special on TV. For the first time in ages, she looked at him, really looked at him. A huge ball of emotion swelled up in her throat, and she had to blink rapidly to keep her tears from spilling down her cheeks for the umpeenth time in just a couple of hours.

She couldn't lose him. She couldn't bear to lose the most stable relationship she had ever had in her life. She had fucked up badly, but he didn't know that, therefore there was still time to fix it.

"I love you," she blurted out.

Andre looked over at her, the confusion in his eyes quickly giving way to a tender smile. "I love you too, baby."

Delilah stood up and pulled her tank top over her head, exposing her breasts. Her shorts soon followed before she made her way over. She snatched the remote from his unsuspecting hands, tossing it somewhere. He looked even more confused now, but she straddled his body before he had time to react. Leaning down, she cupped his face and kissed him with all the purpose and passion she could muster. Her tongue invaded his mouth, catching him off guard. She had never kissed him like that; it was as if she was trying to devour him whole. Her fingernails raked across his bare, toned chest, causing him to wince a little, but she didn't stop. He moaned into her mouth as she rolled her ass against his covered crotch, maneuvering him so that they both fell across the couch with her on top. 

"I want you, Daddy. Touch me," she commanded, breathless.

It was more of an order than a request, one Andre eagerly obeyed by letting his hands roam over her bare breasts down to the silky material that barely covered her plump backside. Impatient, Delilah shoved her hand inside his pants, her grip firm on the long, hard erection that was aching to be inside her. Releasing it from its confines, she stroked him eagerly, lowering her mouth and spitting on the head.

"Whoa, Dee," Andre choked out in surprise, trying to catch his bearings. "This some OnlyFans shit you got goin’ on…"

Delilah ignored him as she continued her oral attack, sucking his dick from base to head and back down. It was a striking contrast between the tight seal of her lips and the pain of her teeth scraping his hard flesh that had him groaning and squirming from pleasure. A couple of minutes passed before she climbed back on top of him and slid his dick as deep inside her as possible. With her hands planted on his chest holding him down, she rode him wildly, their heavy breathing met only with the sound of the worn couch creaking beneath their writhing weights. Her eyes fluttered shut as Andre grabbed her hips and thrust harder inside her, her mouth falling open in a groan as he hit that one sweet spot that made her eyes water. She opened her eyes to look down at him, her heart lurching when instead another pair of eyes was staring back at her.

“No,” she hissed, burying her face in Andre's neck as she bounced on him with increasing desperation, trying to focus on the man groaning underneath her. She grabbed his hand from her breast and guided it down between her legs, making his fingers work her clit like Josh would do. His face haunted her, the memory of him hunting her down until all she could do was let the pleasure consume her as she climaxed hard. Underneath her, Andre’s body jerked as he emptied into her with a strangled moan, his warm seed splashing deep inside her walls. Delilah shivered as her pussy clenched and unclenched, making a mess between them as they drained each other to the last drop. When it was over, she collapsed on his torso, briefly disoriented from the sheer strength of her orgasm.

"Dre…"

Andre ran his hands along her back and kissed the top of her head, weaving his fingers through her hair. "Damn, baby. We been fucking so good lately, so spontaneous. I love it," he lauded her with a kiss on her lips.

Delilah rolled off of him and stared blankly at the ceiling. Now what? This was supposed to fix everything. This was supposed to bring them back to normal. Supposed to erase what she had done with Josh. But nothing had changed. Nothing was different. Everything was very much still the same. And all that was left was a painfully gnawing feeling she was now convinced would never go away.

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

Things just took a sharp turn. Thoughts?

I love likes but I love comments more 😉

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[theinheriteddutchess]

Pulling Against The Stream

Summary: you've always been drawn to the sea, even if you feared it. When a handsome stranger shows up he completely turns your life and awakens a side of you you didn't even know existed.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count: about 11.475

Warnings: 18+, I'm not sure if there really are warnings, nothing gets too explicit. There's talk about nearly drowning, merfolk will eat people (but not in this part). Is Bucky a warning? I think he's a warning🤷‍♀️

(Notes: this was fun to work on, I fell in love with these two, I'm sad it's finished. Also, sorry Owen, you never did get that apology.)

Part 2

🧜🏻‍♂️

The wind was a welcome coolness as it rushed through your hair. You looked out to sea, watching the calm waves rush to shore, wetting the sand before retreating again. It was one of your favourite things to do. Whenever you were on the beach you felt calmer. Like all your problems seemed to disappear. Even if for a little while.

You never went in the water, however. 

You hadn’t since you were a little girl and you had nearly drowned. You loved water. You just couldn’t sink into it. Every time you thought about it, you saw your mother's face as she panicked and yelled at you. As a young girl you had realized something had been very wrong, and now many years later, you had avoided breaking through that fear, and simply given up.

You ached sometimes however, seeing families walking into the ocean and swimming, playing together, their laughter traveling through the air. If only that could be you. It was you, at some point, but the accident changed so much. 

You sighed. You took one look at the water, saying goodbye in your mind, before turning and grabbing your shoes. You walked to the parking lot, trying to brush as much sand off your feet as you could, before slipping on your ankle socks and your shoes. You didn't want to be late. Your friends would  give you a hard time about it. You had agreed to go to this party and they weren't going to let you forget it. They had taken you shopping last week for this event, even. A cute summer dress meant to flatter your body, without looking like you were trying too hard. 

You knew they'd been trying to set you up with someone, a friend of Genevieve’s boyfriend, some guy named Owen or Odin.. You didn't really know, because you were protesting before they both convinced you to give him a try. 

They meant well, but you were fine on your own. 

You had a tiny apartment nearby the sea and you had a simple job that provided enough for you to be comfortable. You loved being able to be near the ocean and simply opening your windows and hearing the crashing of the waves, the smell of salt in the air. It didn’t matter that no one understood. You were happy here.

But today was different. Today your friends wanted you to have fun. And you had promised to. And you were going to. One night going out with friends and a hot man. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Sam was a nice guy, his friend was sure to be nice as well. You hoped. And if not, you had no problem bailing.

You showered once you got home, taking extra time to let the pleasant scent of your shower gel soak into your skin, and made yourself ready. You thought you looked nice, when you saw yourself in the mirror. Owen or Olaf should appreciate the effort.

Your friend Beth picked you up, her recently wedded husband in the back swiping away on his tablet. 

“Hon’, put it away, it’s after working hours, okay?” she softly told him and he groaned but listened. 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you greeted them, smiling. They had been together since highschool and had just simply never parted. A rare thing in your opinion, but it gave you higher hopes for the future.

“Okay, so Gen told me they were already at the bar, you know the place, right? Shade?”

You did know. It was near the beach, a restaurant, bar and club all at once. It really gave beach resort vibes, but it was a little less rowdy than an actual dance club, and the food was rumored to be excellent.

You had a strong suspicion it was picked out deliberately to make you more comfortable since it was beach themed. You chuckled a little at the idea.

“It has excellent seafood, I heard.”

“We know how much you love that!” Beth told you, smiling.

It was true, ever since you were little you loved anything fishy. Your mother would go mental getting you to eat anything, unless fish was on the menu. You didn’t know why but other meat felt heavier, and you enjoyed the taste better.

It was a nice place. You arrived and it seemed all tables were full, but it didn’t feel too crowded inside. The restaurant had a perfect look out to sea, and the dance floor was separated in a way that the noise didn’t bother the dinner guest. It had a nice atmosphere. Seeing it now you were sure you wanted to visit again. That is, if the food was as good as promised.

You saw your other friend waving from a table in a corner of the room. You saw the friend that was supposed to be your date. Nerves were beginning to show, but you faked being confident as you walked over.

“Hello, making yourselves comfortable I see?” you greeted, watching the guy, Oscar or Otis, getting up and holding out his hand. You shook it. Firm but not too hard. A good handshake.

He was holding your chair for you and okay, gentleman. But that didn’t mean anything. Mannerisms might be nice, but you never knew what lurked underneath.

You mostly listened for the first few minutes to your friends joking and sharing some details about their day.

The waiter showed up soon to take your drink order, and handed you the menu for dinner.

“I heard you liked seafood?” Your date leaned closer.

You nodded. “Yes. A lot. I’ve been told it’s a little unnatural, but I can't help it, I prefer a nice Plaice over a steak.”

“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want.” He smiled kindly.

“Exactly. How about you? Do you have any preferences?”

“Only about my car, and that’s pretty much about bringing me where I want. I know, not very manly of me, but I don’t see the point in getting excited over a piece of metal. It needs to function and if it does I'm good.”

“So what do you get excited about?”

“Honestly?” he leaned over like he was about to tell you a great secret. “I collect old movie posters.”

“Okay, so you love old movies?”

“A lot. My nan used to set me down at the tv to watch with her, I guess it’s where I got my love for black and white movies from. It’s probably to keep the thought of her alive, but that makes me sound mushy.”

“Not at all, it’s sweet actually.”

And it was. He was. He was sweet. You might even like to see him again if this was over. You were becoming more comfortable as the minutes ticked by.

The food was as excellent as expected. The conversation was flowing. And it was great being around your friends again, all together. 

Ollie was a good looking man, with kind brown eyes and an equally kind smile. You weren’t sure if there was chemistry between you, or what he even thought about you, but you were sure that if you ran into him tomorrow things wouldn’t be awkward. 

The evening progressed smoothly. Eventually your group migrated to the other part of the building, where catchy music and dimmed lights created a bit of a different atmosphere.You got another drink and kind of swayed your hips to the beat of the bass. Your friends were already dragging their partners to the dance area, and you stood next to Otto and kind of felt a little unsure. You wanted to dance, but he didn’t show any signs of asking you. And leaving to go dance alone seemed rude.

“I’m sorry, I am really bad at dancing.” He seemed to notice.

“It’s okay.” You raised your voice to be heard over the music. You were a little disappointed. “Not that I mind bad dancing.”

“No, I know it’s really awful, and I've stopped exposing myself to ridicule as a teenager,” He tried to smile, but maybe he saw in your eyes you were let down.

“I love dancing,” You admitted. “I don't get to do it often.”

“Well, then go. We can talk later.”

You hesitated. “I don’t feel comfortable just ditching you.”

“It’s not ditching when I say you should. Go and enjoy yourself.”

You thought about it for less than a second. “Okay, thanks.” You left your half finished drink and turned to a somewhat empty spot and let the music take over.

It had been a while. You normally didn’t have much time for these sorts of things. And, honestly, you often didn't make the time. You didn’t really like clubs, where it was so warm and sweaty and everyone pressed up against you. But you did like dancing. Moving your body, letting yourself feel like the most powerful sexy being on this earth once you moved to the beat.

You lost time. You twirled and swayed and closed your eyes. You forgot about anything else. But you were thirsty eventually, and glancing around saw your group of friends together talking somewhere ahead. So you walked to the bar to order a drink. While waiting, a body appeared next to you. you glanced up and were temporarily knocked aside by the beauty of him.

Long soft looking brown hair. Blue eyes seemingly glowing down at you as he stared back at you smiling. Oh his smile. Beautiful white pearls. His mouth was full and pleasant.

He was taller than you and seemingly muscular..

He was stunning.

He kept smiling and you were frozen. Looking at him like you had never seen a man. His arm reached out and grabbed the drink the bartender made you and handed it to you, because you were not aware of anything but him. You took it and sipped from it. Thanking him softly , even if you paid for it yourself.

He didn’t seem to move. Seemed comfortable being right at your side. You glanced at your friends once, still animated by themselves and turned to the stranger.

“What's your name?” You asked.

He moved his hands in such a way that made it clear he couldn’t hear you.

You told him yours. And though his eyes twinkled he didn’t say anything. He pointed at himself and made a weird noise. You didn’t get it, until he looked saddened at you.

Was he deaf? Well, no, because he could clearly hear you. What was the word? Mute? You weren’t sure, but you were sure he was telling you he couldn’t speak. “Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but you can’t speak?”

He shook his head. He didn’t seem to have anything with him to communicate either.

He lifted a finger underneath the glass and pushed it upwards. You had to drink or it would spill.

You giggled, “Alright, alright, I’ll drink, stop.”

It should be eerie how much he didn’t take his eyes off of you, but for some reason it didn't feel that way. He curled a finger around a bowl of peanuts and pushed it towards you.

“Oh no, I don't eat those, and you shouldn’t either, who knows how filthy the hands were that touched them.”

He pushed them back again, immediately, looking at them like they failed him. You knew you should go back to your friends. You should. Yet your feet didn’t move. Your eyes were captivated by him. You couldn’t stop looking. And neither did he. It felt like everything around you went quiet, and people ceased to exist. All you saw was him. His shiny hair, his beautiful smile, his eyes who were bluer than the ocean. You noticed you two were standing awfully close once you thought how clean he smelled. He didn’t seem to wear a scent, he just smelled fresh.

You felt a weird pressure in your chest. Close wasn’t close enough. The two of you just stood there, nearly pressed against each other. Wordless. Staring.

You felt him taking your hand.

And you let him. He guided you away. You did not know where, you did not see anyone or anything. Just him. As he led you outside. It was dark, and you felt sand sneaking through your shoes, the silty air of the sea in your lungs.

You were at the beach, the moon shining down on the two of you, illuminating his features.

His hand reached out to stroke your face softly, his eyes following his fingers over your skin, like he  wanted to absorb everything he saw and felt about you.

You stood still and let him, it felt like a dream. Everything was blurry but his features were clear. His fingers were so soft as they explored you, his hand traveling over your neck, shoulders, down your arms, you shivered and then he pulled you near. 

You hadn’t expected the kiss. His lips were so soft as they stroked yours. You closed your eyes and let him take the lead.

He laid you down. his body covering yours quickly. He was a little cold but you didn't mind as your body was heating up. It felt like a relief to feel his skin against yours.

His lips gliding down your skin, it felt so lovely. Your hands started exploring him the same way.

His strong muscles - and where had his clothes gone suddenly?- but the question left as you explored his form. He was damn near perfect in your opinion, you hadn’t found one flaw so far.

You would have worried about your own flaws if the look in his eyes didn’t stop any negative thought from coming up. You had never seen anyone looking at you the way he did. Like nothing mattered. Like you were the most beautiful woman on this earth. It was neary too much, that look. But you soaked in it, you had never felt more powerful.

Your dress seemed to disappear just as fast as his clothes had gone, you wondered if you were losing track of reality, but it didn’t matter. As soon as you nude bodies connected it had never felt more right. You were both so quiet, like even the sounds you made were private, just for the two of you, no one else was part of it.

You couldn't get enough of stroking his stomach, feeling how he quivered everytime you did. He made a noise sometimes like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t.You looked down, and even his manhood was gorgeous. And you never found it particularly exciting before. He was grinning, like he knew what you were thinking. Maybe your expression spoke a thousand words.

“You’re perfect,” You told him. it was completely truthful. You couldn't feel the shame you were supposed to feel.

His hand was laid against the side of your face, as he looked into your eyes again, like he wanted to say the same to you.

You felt your cheeks warm, weird that this felt so much more intimate than your actual naked bodies currently pressed against each other.

He moved a little closer still, his hand reaching down, and next moment he entered you. You hadn’t expected that. It should’ve been too soon, but he slid right in. Oh. He felt… he felt really good. 

He moved, gentle long strokes. Not too rough, but precise. 

You moaned now. It felt like your body wasn’t your own anymore. As he played it fluently and all the while your eyes not leaving the other. 

You barely remembered when you finished, or him. All you knew was how he felt. And how he kept going, and again. Like he couldn't get enough. He managed to take a break at some point, to gather you up and carry you to your house, naked as the day you were born. It was a fortune you two weren't caught. 

At your apartment, he set you down, you didn’t even remember unlocking the door, but as soon as you stood inside he was on you again.

His mouth was pure aphrodisiac to you. You couldn’t get enough. And neither could he, as his mouth and tongue explored all of you. You felt high with how he made you feel. You didn’t think you ever experienced such pleasure, and so much of it.

And all you seemed to notice was his blue eyes that were a beacon calling out to you and keeping you home.

🐚

The next morning you woke to a naked body next to you. Long brown hair spread out over the sheet as he was still asleep.

You took a moment to appreciate the sight.

Then you remembered you had ditched your friends. and your date.

You groaned and fell down on the pillow. you better had a good excuse ready when you faced them. And you didn’t have one. Well besides, “met a hottie and I couldn’t resist, apparently.” God, what had gotten into you? Besides him…

You glanced at him. Well, if you could take a picture Beth would at least understand. She was crazy about those romantic movies with chance meetings. But Genevieve…Well it was her boyfriend’s friend after all, and that made it more awkward.

Your lover woke up. Rolling over, exposing himself without shame. He reached out for you and you held your hand up. “No, I can't.” He actually looked disappointed. What had he expected, you had lost count how many times he was inside you last night. “And I'm afraid I have to face my friend’s wrath for leaving them behind. I can’t believe I did that, without even saying goodbye.”

His hand stroked your hair, while he hummed. Was he comforting you? You peaked through your hair at him. He looked so content though. Well, he hadn’t deserted his friends after all. He had seemed to have shown up alone.

You searched for your phone. It was on the dresser where you left it yesterday. And with about 84 messages staring back at you menacingly.

You decided to check Beth. She was worried. Genevieve’s wasn’t different, but apparently Beth had seen you leave, and they were confused. It wasn’t like you, and especially not without at least telling them something.

You decided a group call was best. Dive into the deep and face your actions.

“I know I fucked up,” is how you started the conversation, “I don’t know what came over me. He just showed up and it was like I stopped thinking, and I'm sorry I worried you. And I'm sorry for Ovid, he seemed nice. I just…. I have no idea.”

“He was very good looking,” Beth agreed.

“Owen is good looking!” Genevieve defended immediately. Owen! You wheeped inside, finally knowing his name…and relieved Gen didn't call you or on it.

“Yes, but this guy was like a model, come on Gen. “

Silence. She didn't want to admit it out loud.

“He’s still here,” you whispered.

“What!” Genevieve yelled. “Oh my god you skank, you let him stay the night?”

“I think we were too busy the whole night to even notice it was morning,” your cheeks reddened while admitting it. “You have no idea, it’s like he couldn’t get enough of me, and I…well I have never experienced this.”

“That good huh?”

“Oh my god you have no idea. He was…he was a lot, but not enough you know? I felt like I was high or something, he is so gorgeous, guys, and his body…if only you could see.”

“I can pretend to drop something off right now,” Genevieve said, deadly serious.

“What, no. No, we want privacy. I think. I’m not sure, he doesn’t seem to mind if anyone sees him naked, and I think…we left our clothes at the beach.”

Shrieking was heard from both sides. You continued to take their teasing for a while. You got it, it was probably hilarious to hear.

“You’re not mad at me?” you asked quietly once they calmed down.

“Maybe, but also, kind of impressed. Sam is probably more angry, because it’s his friend, but Owen took it in stride.”

“Oh god, I don't even know what to say to them.” you sighed. You were feeling shame, you did, but you also really didn’t regret it. Which was weird because you were never this irresponsible.

“Don’t worry, I'll smooth things over.”

“In the bedroom you mean?” Beth chuckled.

“Well it has worked so far. Besides, once I tell him this was the first time you ever got carried away and you're normally not like this at all, it must be a really special person to make you act this way, he'll understand.”

“I don’t even know his name.”

“Oh god this is priceless. You’re finally getting in touch with your inner whore.”

“Am not, but he’s just so..”

“Yeah yeah dreamy, we get it.”

An arm wrapped around you from behind and soft lips explored your neck. A familiar firmness pressing against your back.

“Hey, I’m talking to my friends,” you protested half heartedly, because you were already enjoying the ministrations.

He ignored your words, even though you were sure he understood you just fine. His tongue licked you softly, and your knees buckled.

“Okay, okay, I'm going to hang up, I will talk to you later.”

“Oh my god girl, what's gotten into you, is he-”

You hung up and dropped the phone. He turned you around and picked you up . Fuck, the way he made it seem effortless really did things to you. Forget about being sore, it was worth it.

✨

You were exhausted. Even after taking another nap. Your body pleasantly buzzing with all the attention it received. You had to get up eventually to get food. 

Making some eggs and grilled cheese, you offered your lover something to drink. He sniffed everything carefully and then turned his nose up. 

“Water then? Can’t go wrong with water.”  You offered him a glass. 

He did accept it, finishing it in one gulp and handing it out to you.

“Another?” you asked after seeing him drink like this, and he nodded.

He drank about 3 glasses before he seemed to be satisfied.

But he didn’t eat anything,

“Surely you must be hungry?”

He nodded.

“You don’t like eggs? Or cheese?”

He grabbed an egg and broke it to slurp the gooey stuff before you could stop him. A raw egg, you shuddered. But some people did that, right? Like those bodybuilders, for the protein. And he did seem to work out. Your eyes got temporarily lost glancing over all his muscles, before snapping out of it, when you met his eyes and they seemed to darken again. You quickly turned. As much as it was the best night of your life, you were really really tired. Not used to this kind of exercise at all. Your body started tingling however, so it was hard to not think of all the details he had given you to fantasize about for the rest of your life.

“So, I was thinking, we should find something for you to wear. We left our clothes at the beach, and I doubt I have much that fits you.”

He shrugged. It didn’t seem to matter to him at all.

“You can’t walk around naked, you’ll get arrested!”

His eyes glanced at yours, noticing the shock and then he pointed outside. “We should collect it?” You guessed and he nodded. “Well, I’ll go, you can’t go out this way.” So you showered and got dressed, but before you left he kept preventing it by kissing you, and again…And once more at the door. Before you pushed him back inside. 

“Someone might see you,” you hissed , looking around if none of your neighbors were in the hall. “I’ll be back soon. Find something you can eat, yeah? I don’t need you fainting from starvation.”

He leaned into you again to kiss you, and you evaded him. “Later!” you giggled, watching the pleased smirk on his face. You fixed your hair, and your shirt, the cheeky bastard had sneaked in a handful, and went on your way.

You couldn’t believe you slept with someone on the beach, in full sight of potential witnesses. Finding your clothes didn’t take long, but your dress was covered in sand and seaweed, and his clothes were wet and needed a good wash. You didn't find his shoes, and then wondered if he had even worn any. You couldn’t remember, you didn’t exactly pay attention to his feet.

You took your hoard home and after a long make out session, where your lover acted like he hadn’t seen you for years, you made your way to the washer. 

“Once they’re dry you are free to go.” Then realized that it sounded like you were kicking him out, and hurried to add. “If you want to, I mean, whatever you want.”

Whatever he wanted seemed to be you. His hands wouldn’t leave you alone. And you didn’t know where to go from here. Did one night stands normally stay until the afternoon the next day? Or seemed to keep wanting to have sex? You didn't even know his name.

“I don’t know what to call you,”  you told him sadly. “Maybe you can write it down?”

You searched for pen and paper but he just stared at it curiously.

You wrote down your name.”You know, my name…now yours?”

He grabbed the pen and it broke, he must have held it too tight. “Oh shit, okay, no problem. Do you have anywhere to go? Like a job or home?”

At the word home he lit up. He nodded enthusiastically and wanted to go outside

“Wait, your clothes!” You held his hand, “We have to wait until they're dry. Maybe  we should watch some tv until they are.” You led him to the couch and turned on the tv. He flinched but soon relaxed and watched the screen fascinated. He grabbed the remote and started zapping quickly, often looking at you with a bright smile like he had found some new toy to admire. You giggled.

“You act like you've never seen a tv before.”

He cocked his head and just stared at you. 

“Okay, pick anything you want, I don’t mind.”

He did eventually settle on something. A documentary about ocean life and his bright eyes didn’t leave the screen for a while. Occasionally he seemed to scoff at something the narrator said but he stayed quiet. You wondered what it was like, not being able to talk verbally. It must be frustrating. Maybe even lonely.

He didn’t seem to have anything on him either. No phone or any information to figure out who he was. But he was a grown man and you couldn’t just pry. Besides, it's hard to pry when communication was off.

Once the laundry was done you handed him his clean clothes, and he looked kind of repulsed wearing them again. 

“You really like being naked huh?”

He shrugged, then reached out to you with a teasing smile as he lifted your shirt a bit. “Oh no, I quite like being covered, thank you very much.” You giggled as he threw you a pout. “Come on, let's go, you wanted to show me home?”

He lit up again, and quickly grabbed your hand to drag you outside.

“Is it very far? Do we need the car?”

He shook his head and pointed again.

“Okay, lead the way, I'll follow.”

He walked fast, like he couldn’t wait, he made some weird noises in the back of his throat that you interpreted as excitement, and his enthusiasm felt addictive.

He dragged you towards the beach again, then to the water. He seemed to want to keep walking, but you froze.

“No! No I don’t go in-”

He turned to look at you, questioningly. Pointing to the water.

“No, I- I had an accident, many years ago. I don’t swim. I can’t.”  You took a few steps back, your heart beating fast. Your mom’s voice and face clearly visible still after all this time, as she found you and yelled, crying, and in complete panic. You had nearly died that day your parents told you. And ever since, you never went in the water again.

He held his hands out for you to take but you shook your head, feeling faint and stepping back to sit down. “No. please, don’t”

He sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and just holding you. Sheltering you from the fear that raised inside of you as you remembered.

🌊

It had been a beautiful day. The sun shined brightly and the water seemed calm underneath the boat you were on. You loved the water, and your parents enjoyed being away from work for a while. 

As a single child you were used to entertaining yourself and that's what you did most of the day. Walking back and forth on the boat, making up games in your head, watching the sea as the boat cut through the water smoothly. 

Your parents were laying on deck somewhere, but you were much too busy to pay attention to them. You had just spotted something that kept your eyes firmly on the water. It never appeared at the same spot though, constantly moving. You didn’t know what it was. At that age your knowledge of any sea creatures was minimal, but it didn’t matter, anything was fascinating at that time. 

Your sandwich dropped out of your hands and floated in the water for a second, before it disappeared. A fish? You walked back to your parents, pretending to be hungry still and getting another sandwich. Happily you walked back to the railing again, ripping a piece off and threw it. And it happened again. You were used to feeding ducks, but you never fed anything else, so this was fun!

Another piece and another until it was gone.

In your enthusiasm, and to continue the game, you hand reached out to your doll and you threw that as well.Then watched it float in the water. 

Then you realized that your doll was lost in the ocean forever. Would it be eaten as well? Or sink down, like toys often did when you took a bath. You started crying, and wanted to run back to your parents, or the nice man that moved the boat, to make them stop it, to make them return it, but then you saw a hand grab it and throw it towards you. The doll landed with a wet squish on deck. Happily you ran towards it and hugged it, soaking your own clothes, but you didn’t mind. You had little Boop back. The world was perfect once again. You looked up and thought you saw a blur of color coming up and going down again fast. A friend. You were sure of it. Friends did things like this. Sharing lunch and sharing toys.

You ran inside to find stuff you could play with, but not mind missing. Like a plate, and your mom’s purse and one of your dad’s shoes…you grabbed it into your tiny arms and walked back outside. One by one you threw it in the water. And watch it sink, until suddenly it was thrown back up again. You clapped your hands, and threw it back in again.

This little game continued for quite a while, and sometimes you saw more of your friend. Dark hair,  eyes looking at you from the water. Why was this boy in the water for so long? Mother had told you to be careful because the water was dangerous here and you couldn’t swim yet.

Why did he stay in the water, he seemed to enjoy it there. You wanted to climb over the railing and go to him, but your mother’s warning sounded in your ears, and you didn't want to get punished. You waved the next time he came up again and he waved back.

You didn’t remember very well what happened in between this fun time, and what happened next, but the sky changed and the boy seemed to fall behind the boat more and more, as the water seemed to be less smooth now than it was before.

There was some yelling from the men on the boat and your mother’s worried voice calling out to you. Eager to listen, you let go of the railing and turned to go towards her, maybe even tell her there was a boy in  the water, when a big wave suddenly made you lose your balance.

You slipped easily and went down into the water. The coldness being the most you remembered of that scary moment.

The water seemed to suck you in and closed all around you as it became dark instantly. Your tiny body thrashing against the current and lack of air. You didn’t know what to do, this was something that your mind had not prepared you for.

Cold arms grabbed you, however and dragged you down, or up. It was hard to tell. But you did feel water sliding past your body and he pushed you up , and then air.

The sea kept pushing against your body and kept taking you down, but you were held up and you could breath, you coughed and held onto the arms for dear life.

When he started swimming away, the boat was not even visible anymore, you realized it was the boy. The dark hair and eyes were the only recognizable thing you had seen.

He swam against the current, somehow strong enough to do so, and it took a really long time before anything changed but the vast ocean in front of you.

It was scary but it was also the most exciting thing you had experienced. Because he was a friend! He had helped you! You saw a glimmer under the water, or felt something smooth and slippery against your legs, but it did not occur to you what it was until later. As land came in sight and he pushed you forward until you could stand. But you didn’t stand, your legs were too shaky to. You sat in the middle of the shore as water leapt against you, but you couldn’t be dragged away anymore. He floated in front of you, making sure you stayed where you were.

“Where am I?'' You sobbed a little, the adrenaline coursing through you and feeling scared without your parents.

His face dipped in and out of the water. “Land” he told you.

“I wanna go home,” You whined.

“They'll find you here…I think. It’s land.” He looked around. “They know you fell, they will look.”

You hoped so, this was worse than that time your dad was late picking you up from school, and you had to wait with the teacher as she sighed at the inconvenience. You never felt like she liked you after that. And mother would be angry because you fell in the water, like she told you.

You cried some more, but felt a cold hand around your ankle.

“They’ll come.” the boy said firmly. You didn’t know why you heard him so clearly, while you couldn't talk under water at all.

Then you saw his body. Your eyes glanced from his torse to his legs. But there were none.

You gasped. “Fish?”

He frowned until he saw where your eyes were focusing on, and then he laughed. “No, it’s a tail. So I can swim.”

“Can I get one?” If you had a tail your mother wouldn’t be angry anymore because you could swim just as well as the boy.

“I’m not sure. You’re not like us.”

‘Oh,” you said, disappointed.

“I know some of you can, I saw it myself!” He then said proudly. “And it would make sense. I did save you.” He glanced at you fiercely suddenly. “That means you're mine.”

“Like a friend?” you said excitedly.

He frowned. “What’s that?”

“Someone you play with. Someone you like.” you explained, glad to know something he didn’t.

“Oh. Yes, like that. I like you,” he cocked his head. “I can keep you.”

“Okay,” you smiled. You weren’t scared anymore. The weather, as suddenly as it had changed, had turned calmer again, and you weren't alone. You had your friend.

“I’m going to have to bite you though. If I'm going to keep you.”

Bite you? That didn’t seem fun. You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to be called a scaredy cat again, like Lisa sometimes told you when you jumped out of the way if she threw a ball at you, and he had saved you, so it might only be fair.

You shrugged, pretended to not be worried and said. “Okay.”

He came up and grinned. It suddenly seemed less friendly like this, but you already said you’d do it, and a promise is a promise, wasn’t it? He slithered up closer, and you were mesmerized by his tail. It was really beautiful colors, blue and white and shiny…you wanted to touch it, but your mother raised you right, you didn’t just touch people. Unless they said it was okay, like you did, to this boy.

 He moved really close and you noticed how cold his skin was. You felt his face moving closer to you and wondered where this bite was going to be. He made a weird noise, but he seemed to not say anything if his face was out of the water. Maybe he was shy up close?

You felt his mouth on your neck, and then, quickly, he bit down sharply. You screamed because it did hurt, and moved back, but he moved with you until he let go. Blood was covering his mouth and your hand flew up to your neck to feel. 

"That hurts!"

“Of course it does, how else are we supposed to feed?”

You frowned. “You're not supposed to eat me.”

“No, not you,” he seemed to agree, “I Wouldn't bite you there if I was going to eat you.”

Where was he going to bite if he was? you wondered but in your young mind it seemed like an explanation enough.

“Now I can find you. And you'll come look for me , right?

You nodded. Maybe you could go on another boat trip, or sometimes your parents took you out to the beach. You loved the beach! It would be even better with a friend to play with.

You continued talking, and playing. He loved splashing you with his tail, until you shrieked in protest but couldn’t stop laughing. Until you became so exhausted that you started yawning and your eyes were drooping.

“They’ll be here soon,” he frowned, like the thought bothered him. “You should go on land, and I need to…leave.”

“Can’t you stay?” You pouted.

“They can’t see me, they’re not friends.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

He hummed and seemed to drift back.

You hoped he would still be nearby so you could wave at him once your parents were here. But you crawled further onto the sand and laid down there, and sleep took over you. It was the worried yells that woke you again.

Your parents rushing over to you and grabbing you and shaking you and so much yelling. Your mother's panicked voice as she said she thought you were dead. That you had drowned. Your father tried to calm your mother down. The two of them taking turns holding you, too rough, too long. You, cryinging and panicking again, remembering the cold dark water. How it kept dragging you back. How there had been no air and your body felt like it was going to explode from pressure.

How afterwards there had been no boat trips or beach days. And how when the time came to learn how to swim your mother's face triggered your fears so much that you hadn't dared to go into the water, and had full out panic attacks until they gave up.

How many trips to the therapists hadn’t been enough to keep from telling that a boy saved you, that not only fishes had tails, until you learned to keep your mouth shut and realized it was a dream. Maybe something your mind conjured up to feel safe again. A savior. A protector.

You still sometimes told someone, like your friends, but no one believed it and you were forever stuck in believing that they believed it wasn’t real, and therefore so should you, and still feeling it had been so real to you.

But what about the bite? Well, there had been one, and your parents took you to the doctors, afraid a shark or something had nibbled on you, but there had been no infection. In fact it had stopped bleeding very quickly, and healed very well. It was a faint shimmer on your skin now. You knew where it was and knew the slight ridges you had to look out for, but it was barely noticeable. Still whenever you rubbed it, it gave you a sense of safety. Something that seemed to look over you.

💭

You sat on the sand, looking out to sea. Next to you sat your lover, maybe you should give him a nickname because it sounded scandalous calling him that. Like a Victorian lady wrapped up in a torrid affair, waiting to be exposed so your older husband could challenge him to a duel to the death. Although, looking at him , you were sure he would win any fight. His body really was something. Healthy, with muscles in all the right places, no tan lines anywhere. Well, he did seem to have a fondness for nudity after all. 

You lowered your eyes, you had no idea what had gotten into you. One look at him and you were a goner. Your mind simply stopped thinking for itself and only seemed to focus on his beauty. You never expected to be this shallow. But it wasn’t just looks, he was kind. Even without words he made you feel understood and safe. He had comforted you and listened to your ramblings as you shook under the fear that raced through you. Making noises that let you know he was there. His strong arms keeping you safe from the horrors in this world.

You had told him what happened. Told him about falling overboard and nearly drowning, how your parents found you later, and were surprised to see you unharmed, but were upset nevertheless. How everything resulted in your fear of being in the water. But that you loved the sea, and kept coming back almost everyday, no matter how short. You just never stepped inside it.

How you couldn't swim because of it. 

He listened, eyes full of understanding and interest. Not once did you seem to bore him. But you didn’t tell him about the boy, you didn’t want him to think you were crazy, or childish. No, you told him what your parents told you. How you must've swum upwards and the water pushed you to shore again. How you were lucky.

How you had to be more careful. And you could have died. It was something your therapist had said shouldn’t have been said to a young child, but it was said in worry, and your mother’s reaction made your fear worse. You knew all that. And yet, you never dared to dip even a leg in. You tried your feet a few times but it all seemed to overwhelm you shortly after and it felt easier to avoid.

can’t

You looked at Blue, deciding on that name because of his eyes and told him. “I find it weird that the sea can both terrify and soothe me. I stay away, I yearn to be here and yet, I can never let go and embrace it. There is a feeling something will happen, and I don’t know what.”

He wrapped his arm around you, letting you lean against him.

“I wish I could know your name,” you sighed. “I know nothing about you.”

And yet he knew your deepest fear. 

He took your hand and laid it on his heart and smiled. It felt like a love confession and you smiled. “You’re the romantic type, huh? All handsome stranger coming to save the innocent lady and sweeping her off of her feet and courting her.”

He grinned widely and nodded, then got up and held his hand out for you. You took it. Then he grabbed and lifted you up as he was holding you in his arms again. You honestly did not think you would ever tire of it. It was such a cliché, but it really made your heart beat faster.

“You’re good at courting too?” you teased, and watched him nod ever quicker.

“You seem perfect. Are you sure I'm not dreaming?”

He kissed you. Well, it wasn’t the worst dream if you were.

🏖️

Your one night stand turned into two, you and Blue spend the whole day together, walking down the beach, collecting seashells, he offered you the prettiest ones and you accepted gladly. You had enough shells, but it was sweet to be gifted them.

You arrived back home, rosy and a little sweaty, and very hungry. Pulling open your freezer and fridge to see what you could make, you noticed open packages and a lot more room than you had the day before.

“Blue?” you asked over your shoulder, knowing he by now knew it meant  him, and he appeared a second later in the kitchen.

“Did you…eat the fish?” You asked a little nervously, the question seemingly ridiculous, but there really wasn’t any other explanation.

He nodded happily. and you looked at all the packaging he finished. That was a lot of fish…you also didn’t see any used pans or smelled anything coming back. Now he could have cleaned up… But it had all been frozen, it would’ve taken a while to defrost before it could be prepared. There had not been enough time before you had returned looking for your clothes.

“Did you eat it raw? Because that’s very bad for you.”

He shrugged.

“You could get sick.’ You worried, you didn’t really know what could happen, but getting sick was one thing you heard.

He shook his head.

He hadn’t seemed off, maybe raw fish was okay when it had been frozen, and was still frozen at the time of consumption? You had no idea. 

“Are you one of those uncooked food eaters?” you tried.

He nodded. 

“Oh okay, well, I don't really know what I have at home for you to eat.”

He pointed at you, grinning.

You laughed. “Well I doubt I would be tasty.”

He grinned even wider, a little more menacingly and stepped forwards, shoulders bracing like he was going to jump you.

“Oh no. I’m chewy, really unpleasant to get stuck between the teeth,” you giggled as you stepped away. “Will give you horrible stomach pains afterwards, you won’t like it at all.”

Then you shrieked as he moved forward and tried to sprint away. Tried, because he had you the next moment. He kept amazing you with how fast he was.

He held you against the fridge and stared into your eyes and hummed.

He made you weak when he looked at you that way. His eyes told you there was nothing he would rather look at than you, and it made you gooey inside. You had never had a man making you feel this way.

“You are so beautiful,” you whispered. So kind, so strong, so gentle. He really did seem perfect.

He kissed you slowly, his full lips just loving yours, taking his time. By the time he lowered them to your neck you had already widened your legs and he lifted you up.

While being carried to the bedroom, you really did wonder if this was real.

💙

The next day you went shopping, there was no food and Blue didn’t seem to like anything you had in the apartment. He wanted to come with you, and you easily agreed, having become used to his presence. you closed his seatbelt for him because he didn’t seem to remember to, warning him ‘safety first’ before starting the car. The way he looked being in your car was strange, but you didn’t comment. You knew he was a little different, and maybe he lived somewhere very remote, or maybe he didn’t come from here. It wasn’t a good explanation, but you had no reason to complain when he was the best man you had met so far in your life. So he didn’t know how technology worked? He knew how to work your body and that was much more important. The thought made you blush. You had never seen yourself as a very sexual creature, but he sure brought it out in you.

Shopping was, interesting, so to say. Blue looked around in wonder, but also passed by most foods you would pick out, and visibly preferred the fish section. You decided to go with what you both would like, but made a note to make sure to cook it for him before he died of salmonella. It would’ve been a tragic ending to your love story. 

Packed with way too much fish you would ever finish on your own, you went back. Cooking was a little complicated, because Blue was intrigued by the process, but was more intrigued with touching your body during, and you were so distracted you nearly burnt the meal. And forgot to cook the vegetables properly.

Blue looked suspicious once a plate was put in front of him.

You laughed. “Okay sorry, but I don’t know how to eat fish other than cooked, and I don't want us to get sick. It’s good though, I promise. And I kept your veggies uncooked, like you wanted, right?”

You didn’t know how a raw diet worked, but fish was something you did not want to serve raw. You just hoped he wasn’t insulted by it.

He took a bite carefully, pulled a face, seemed to hesitate, then took another bite pondering. It was fascinating to see all the expressions so clear on his face. He showed everything he was thinking, and it felt like a better communication system than all the people that said one thing, schooling their face, but meant another. Blue had clearly never learned any tact, but at least he seemed honest.

Afterway carefully chewing, he seemed to decide that it was acceptable. You dug in yourself, it was very nice, your favorite dish. You were happy he hadn't found it disgusting. For some reason, the thought made you realize you would've been a little hurt if he had. Like he would have rejected a part of you, which was a ridiculous thought and you tried to shrug it off.

Desert was much more simple.

He had decided it was you. Again. You really enjoyed chocolate mousse, but the way he put his tongue on you had you decide that chocolate mousse was overrated. This was truly the best way to finish dinner.

🐟

You woke up. Warm, comfortable, an arm slung around your waist. Blue was still sleeping. Maybe you tired him out for once. The thought made you smile to yourself.

You carefully moved away from him to stretch, and made your way to the bathroom. Relieving your bladder and washing yourself, you wonder if this was going to be your life now. He seemed to have no intention to go, and you had no intention to make him leave.

It was strange, because you had just met. You knew nothing about him. But you still felt so comfortable around him.

You made sure to check in with your friends who were stunned with the fact your one night stand turned into some prolonged romance, but were happy. You didn’t really believe in love at first sight, but how else could you explain the jittery feelings that coursed through you as you thought of him? You didn’t want him to leave!

Things had to be settled today, you decided. One way or another you had to get some information out of him, or see what he wanted to do with the situation. What did he want? Would he like to keep seeing you? Go on an actual date? Was this already considered dating? You were a little worried he would suddenly disappear. And it frightened you how much you knew you would care about that.

“Alright , we need to talk.” You told him at breakfast, as he sucked on his raw eggs, something that still seemed disgusting to you, but you wisely didn’t comment. 

“Well, I'll talk and you'll listen,” you realized. “This has been a lot of fun. Great, really, but I should know more about you, right? Who you are, or where you come from?”

You scratched your neck. it had been itching a little since yesterday, and while it was noticeable at first it started to get worse today. Maybe you had a little sunburn from yesterday, you did spend a long time on the beach.

Blue’s eyes zeroed in on your neck, it was like he could see what was there. But no one really did unless they were very close. He seemed to get a little dazed before your voice broke him out of it.

“Unless this is coming to an end.” You hated how your voice became a whisper. You didn’t sound confident at all, and maybe a little pathetic. Damn those stupid feelings.

He looked up at you confused. Like he didn’t know what you meant.

“I would like to keep seeing you, but I don’t know if that is what you want?” You told him, gathered up the strength to get some surety. It was either finding him missing at some point, or asking clarity for your own piece of mind. Maybe he had been waiting to see what you wanted anyway.

He got up, and long streaks of his legs marched him over to you, he grabbed your face with one hand. Gently holding it, he grabbed your hand with his other and put it on his heart.

“I think that’s a 'yes', I want to keep seeing you’?” you whispered, feeling yourself melt. Knowing he knew because he had to hold you up.

He frowned and nodded. Then he put his hand on your heart. Or maybe your boob, you weren’t sure. But it felt terribly romantic.

“Okay, that’s a step. Maybe we can go to your place, you must be tired of wearing the same thing.” You glanced down at his body “Well, when you do wear clothes.”

He pointed outside. 

“You want to go now?”

He nodded but bit his mouth, like he was pensive about something. 

“I don't have to go in, if that’s not what you want.”

He pointed at you. 

“Me? You’re afraid I don't want to go inside?” As you saw him nod, you wondered how bad the neighborhood he lived in was. “I don’t care, If it’s that terrible you wouldn’t bring me there right?”

He nodded seriously.

To lighten the mood you joked. “And I'm sure you can protect me against any danger.”

He seemed to make himself bigger somehow, without making himself seem ridiculous. God, he was perfect. You wondered if one last time before you went would be a good idea. The sheets were beginning to be in need of a good wash, but once more wouldn’t matter by now, would it? And - 

Your thoughts were cut off with a kiss and a devilish grin, like he had known where your mind had gone.

“Sorry, am I really obvious?” You said through heated cheeks.

He nodded, shrugged, and seemed to spread his arms out like he said ‘Who could blame you’. 

You put your hands over your face. “You’re awful, no shame at all.”

There was a noise that, when you glanced back at him, might've been a laugh. so it made you laugh and then you were kissing again. 

But he broke it off before it got too heated. Pity. He pointed outside again.

“Alright, let me make myself ready okay, And wear clothes! Not everyone will appreciate seeing your tooshie exposed.”

You did though. You enjoyed it very much, it was round and not too big or small. You stared at it as many times as you dared, and he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact his own eyes never left your body either. He was just enraptured with you as you were with him.

Realizing you had been staring at the carpet for several minutes now without making progress at getting ready, you hurried. He waited at the door for you with the same cut off shorts and shirt he had been wearing all this time, no shoes. Oh god you had taken him shopping and no one had even mentioned he wasn’t wearing shoes. You had broken the one rule that stores would give. 

You figured maybe no one noticed, because they were too busy staring at his handsome face. The only explanation you could think of. 

You offered the car, but he pointed in another direction, and so you figured he must’ve lived nearby.

But as you neared the beach again, you became confused. Maybe he was a tourist? They sometimes booked one of those beach houses. But he led you on the beach itself, towards the water.

“What? Blue…you were supposed to take me to your home.”

He pointed to the water.

“What do you mean? You live overseas?”

He pointed at the water again, frowning. He made a movement with his hands and you didn’t get it, so he did it a few times, looking frustrated.

“Swimming?”

He stopped in relief, pointed at the water, to himself, to the water, ‘swimming’.

“You swam?” you said, stunned.

He nodded. Pointed towards you, and then him.

You didn't get it, again. “I don’t understand, sorry.”

He grabbed your hands, held them, and stared into your eyes lovingly.

“I get it, it’s hard to explain this way, really hard with no way of communicating.” you said sadly.

He looked at the water again, then pulled you.

And you froze and dug your heels in, staring at him in shock.

He looked at the water again, towards you, your entwined hands, and again towards the water, he made a noise. He sounded… urgent.Your neck began to itch worse again.

“Are you staying at one of the houses?” you said, a little desperately, even if you began to understand that probably wasn't the case.

He shook his head. He now looked at you a little sadly. Humming, his thumbs stroked your wrists where he was holding you. Like he was comforting you. The way he was staring at you, it was like he was expecting something. Waiting for something.

Your neck started to burn awfully. You tried to loosen your hands to rub the spot, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Blue, what - let go, my neck it’s -”

He let go of one of your hands, but was quick to lay it on your neck, right on the spot, it felt, it felt strange, it was burning up, but somehow his touch felt better.

Your body felt weird. And you noticed he was trying to pull you near the water.

“No, I can't,” you told him, feeling no control over your body as he dragged you further in. Your eyes drawn to the water, fear rushing through you, your mom’s face, the cold dark water surrounding you, your heart beating, no air, there was no air.

And then he appeared in your vision, his blue eyes, so like the boy in your memories, catching yours, calm, his hands holding you, a soft embrace. You felt your feet walking with him towards the water, wanting to protest, but your mouth was silent, and your eyes couldn’t look away from him.

Dark hair, blue eyes.

His body holding yours as he dragged you through the water, cold skin, slippery tail, A wide grin, so playful, words and promises made.

Blue eyes looking back at you tenderly, lovingly, holding you against him. You could see only him. Even as the water soaked through your sandals. Even as water splashed at your calves.

’You're not like us’...’I can keep you’... ‘find you’

Your body followed him in, he was smiling brightly, his eyes sparkling, but he didn’t let you go. He was guiding you, so gently. It was like your fear was there but numbed, in the background. Like the most important thing was to be close and not let go. You didn’t.

Water was around your waist, the waves moving your body back and forth, swaying in the current of the water, but he did not let you go, he did not pull away. He kissed you.

His soft lips felt like an explosion on yours. It felt like you were fading until all that was left was him. The way he felt. And the way he made you feel.

You made a noise. You felt weird.

Water splashing on you as he whipped his tail at you, laughter sounding through the air as you splashed back. His face disappearing underwater to speak to you.

Water reached his chest and you were already not feeling the bottom under your feet anymore. You let him pull you. He seemed happy. He kissed you and his tail sweeped against your legs and - …Tail? you looked down and saw the colorful glimmer of his tail, not legs, underwater. Before it would settle in, you felt a burst inside, a sharp painful burst, and you fell down. The power of it made him let go and you went under. 

But his arms were around you immediately. You worried you would see darkness, but you could still see the light above you, the sun shining through the water. You could see him very clearly, his face so close to you as he helped you get steady against the movement of water. You expected to choke, but it felt like your lungs were just fine.

“What-” you said, and realized sound came out of your throat, water came in your mouth but disappeared and yet it did not feel like you ran out of air.

He smiled so happily, his eyes shining to you in delight.

“It’s okay. I got you.”

You looked around, water was surrounding you everywhere, there was seaweed twirling around you, the occasional crab you could see floating around. It looked like you could see a lot further than you expected down underwater.

You glanced down his body, noticing the tail, and momentarily were distracted by the beauty of it, before another movement distracted you. As you saw your own tail.

A shock went through you and you wanted to flinch away, but he wouldn’t let you. Your hands touched yourself. Slimy softness greeted you where your legs were supposed to be.

This wasn't real, was it?

"Bucky."

You looked up, confused.

“Bucky. My name. I couldn’t give it to you until now.” he grinned. 

“Bucky?” you tested it out.

He seemed pleased with hearing it, and nodded. “Yes, I can't speak up there. I couldn’t tell you anything, only if you were in the water.”

You felt like you should panic, and there was confusion, and there was fear, but it all felt so….farther away. “What happened? I don't get it.”

“You had to turn.” He shrugged. “You didn’t want to go into the water the other day, but I knew you couldn’t stay here long. After we mated, I knew it would only take a few days before you turned. And I couldn't let you turn on land.”

That’s why he dragged you while you were so afraid, why he didn’t listen.

“But how can that happen, I'm not..this!”

“I marked you,”  he explained in a tone like you should’ve known. ” When I saved you. You let me, remember?”

Blue eyes, dark hair….Bucky.

“You didn’t really think it was a dream, did you? Why else do you think we were drawn to each other? You’re mine.”  For a moment his expression darkened. “Why didn’t you come to me? You said you would? I waited every day, and you didn’t come until a few years ago,and you never went into the water.”

Like you had disappointed him, failed him. Broke your promise. Which you did. It was a promise that shouldn’t have to be kept, you were children after all, but it became clear he had kept it. He had expected you to keep it. And it occured to you that rules, human rules, might not apply here.

“My parents were very afraid after what happened. They didn’t go anywhere near the sea for ages. Only after…when I moved out, I started coming here. Like I couldn't stay away.”

He seemed a little more pleased. “You were looking for me.”

“I-” ‘no’ you wanted to say. But weren't you always looking. Looking for something. Someone. Didn’t you feel you were missing something. “I couldn't get into the water.”

You tried to explain. You didn’t know why you felt the need to make him not angry or hurt by you. It hadn’t been your fault, but the way he acted was like you hurt him a great deal.

“So I came to you.” He moved closer and held your hand. 

“Can I go back?”

“No.” He seemed happy with the idea. “ We don't go on land unless we have to. To kill, or to mate. And it takes years of practice. You have to be strong enough, and learn how. It took me all this time. But I knew I had to. I knew you were here.”

“You should have asked.” you said. Thinking of your friends, your family. If you couldn't go back, how worried they would be. How they would suffer.

“Why? You promised yourself to me. I saved you, I didn’t need to ask, I could have let you drown, or killed you. I didn’t. I own your life. And you said we were friends.” he shrugged.

Warmth pinched your eyes, but as soon as the tear appeared it had vanished in the cold silty water. 

“Friends don’t hurt each other.”

“But I didn't." He sounded confused. “I would never hurt you. You belong with me. And now we don’t ever have to part. We live very long. You don’t have to worry about dying. And you don’t have to worry about the water anymore either. You are strong enough to go where you please. I could show you so many things. You don't need to deny yourself any longer. Let go, embrace me.”

He echoed the words you said to him, when you told him about your shared history. How you yearned to embrace your longing. How you wanted to be near the water. Had it simply been the sea that called out to you?

A fish curiously swam nearby, and you suddenly were reminded with the empty freezer, the frozen seafood he devoured…how you only seemed to like fish the most growing up. The bite he had given you. Your urge for the sea, even if you never dared to near it or touch it.

How Bucky had waited for you to show up and play with him, and how you had, unwillingly, broken that promise.

How he talked about owning your life because he had saved it, and how you could have a tail if only you did what he said.

Your tail was pretty, even if you thought his was better, but it wasn’t your legs and it felt strange seeing it swing back and forth, feeling like you could push upwards if you tried, wondering if you could keep up with him if you swam. Wondered how cold and dark the sea would get the further you would drift.

You looked backwards where you thought the beach would be, but, being underwater, all there was was water.

His finger turned your face towards him again. “I love you.”

You blinked, he put your hand on his heart, and the familiarity hit you like a warm glow, he had been telling you all along.

And he laid his hand on your heart, staring into your eyes intensely.

You felt the words leave your mouth without thinking about it.  “And I love you.” 

And you knew you did. Despite everything. You had been looking for him. You had been looking for love.

[jjungkookislife]

Crybaby [Epilogue]

ღ pairing: namjoon x f. reader

ღ genre: established relationship, light smut [18+]

ღ summary: Sometimes your emotions overwhelmed you, sometimes they made you cry, but your friends were there to comfort you all the time. Crybaby, a sweet nickname bestowed upon you by said friends, but when Kim Namjoon says it, it's more of a tease.

ღ wc: 1.5k

ღ warnings: impreg kink, unprotected sex, marking (hickeys, scratching), mention of beer pong, uncle!jungkook, pregnant!reader

ღ date: January 7, 2024

Namjoon couldn't get the thought out of his head, not after you had been so responsive on your wedding night just a few days ago. You had cried so much that night, begging and sobbing for him to fuck you full of his cum, to breed you, while tears rolled down your cheeks like they always did when you were overwhelmed by the love you held for him.

His fingers laced with yours, hands pinned to the mattress as he fucked you, mapped out his home in the column of your throat and imagined every filthy desire that escaped your lips. You begged him to get you pregnant, to breed you like he so desperately wanted to but didn't realize until the words slipped from your kiss-swollen lips in the heat of the moment, hands breaking free and nails raking down his back as you arched into him, kissing him deeply.

Now all Namjoon could think about was you round with his child, a deep ache in his chest as he looked over at you from across the room, you had no idea how you were affecting him as you laughed along with your shared friends, but he was desperate with a carnal desire to bed you again and again until you were round with his child.

Yoongi is the one who approaches Namjoon. 

“Everything okay?” Yoongi asks as he raises his cup to his lips.

“Y-yeah,” Namjoon clears his throat as his cheeks flush. He’s unsure if he wants to bring this up right now; especially when your friends are gathered just a few feet away in an intense game of charades.

“You sure?” Yoongi prods. Usually, he’d be in the mix of everyone, but Jungkook had already pushed him toward Joon with a knowing look, though part of him thinks it was because of his shit talent at charades.

“No,” Namjoon sighs in resignation. He knew his younger brother wouldn’t allow Yoongi to leave Namjoon’s side until he got an answer but some things were just too personal to share. Namjoon wasn’t sure if he should even discuss this with Yoongi until he discussed it with you.

After all, Namjoon had been living in your home for months now. You had insisted on living together before the wedding and Namjoon had agreed. You had more than enough space for him, a home office, and perhaps now a nursery? Namjoon wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed. Had you meant what you had said? Were you ready to grow your family? Or was it just something to say in between the sheets? Not knowing would eat at him.

“I won’t tell Jungkook if you don’t want me to,” Yoongi shrugs. “He’s nosy as all hell, but even he knows not to get into your business with you two. You’re married now.”

“I know,” Joon says. “It’s just, Baby said something on our wedding night and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

Yoongi nods, waiting for Namjoon to continue.

“She said…” Namjoon trails off, embarrassed. “She wanted a baby.”

Yoongi grins. “Congrats!”

Namjoon laughs. “We haven’t done anything. I don’t know if it was just talk.”

“Just talk?” Yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion.

Namjoon covers his face with his hands. “You know, talk?”

It takes Yoongi a few more moments for Yoongi to realize what Namjoon is insinuating. “Oh! Oh!”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Damn, who knew our Crybaby had a way with words. Good for her.”

Namjoon smacks Yoongi’s shoulder. “That’s my wife!”

Yoongi laughs harder, shaking his head. “So what’s the problem? Just talk to her about it. Chances are she meant what she said. Do you want kids?”

Namjoon nods. “I’ve always wanted to be a father. More so once I met Baby. I’m excited to try but I don’t know if she meant it and we’ve been too busy to even sit down and discuss it.”

Yoongi nods, placing his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“It’ll all work out, man.”

A few nights go by before Namjoon is pulling you into his broad arms, kissing your cheek. 

“I’ve missed you,” he states as he trails kisses down your jaw toward your neck.

You giggle. “I’ve been right here.”

“I know,” Namjoon explains. “I just want you all to myself.”

“Ah, my husband,” you giggle as he kisses your neck, his hand going to your hip. 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you call me that,” Namjoon admits as he takes your hand to lead you to the bedroom. You smile when you get on the bed and he joins you, kissing your lips.

You’re lost in his touch, his lips, his dulcet moans as you strip each other. He pauses when you reach for his boxers, taking your hand in his to lace your fingers together. 

“There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about,” he says as he brings your hand to his lips. “Something you said on our wedding night.”

Immediately, you know what he’s talking about and your cheeks grow hot. You nod, licking your lips as you feel tears sting the corner of your eyes.

“Do you want to start a family already?” Namjoon asks as he locks eyes with you. He knows you probably won’t be able to hold eye contact for long but he needs a genuine response.

“I do,” you admit. “I’m not sure how long you wanted to wait but nothing would make me happier, Namjoon.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Namjoon chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips.

“Really?” you ask as happy tears roll down your cheeks.

“Really,” Namjoon assures you as he kisses your tears away. He kisses your hand one more time before stealing a kiss from your lips, his broad body over yours as you two get lost in the moment. Moans soon fill the bedroom, and Namjoon takes care of you again and again.

Four Years Later

“Jungkook!” you call as you step into the home he shares with his husband, Yoongi. “Come get your nephews!”

Namjoon laughs as he comes in carrying both boys in his arms. The Twin Terrors, you called them when they were hyped up on sugar and no naps.

Jungkook appears from the kitchen, his smile radiant as he spots his nephews.

“My babies!” he cries as he opens his arms wide. The boys cling to him, giggling when Jungkook lifts them both. 

Yoongi shuffles in after, a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Jimin and Tae?” he asks with a yawn.

“Yup,” you nod, shaking your head as Jimin and Taehyung walk into the home with a table and chairs for the backyard.

“Seokjin is in the back with Hobi manning the grill,” Yoongi states before leading Jimin and Tae to the backyard.

“In our defense,” Tae starts but shuts up when he notices the glare you shoot his way. “Never mind.”

Jungkook cackles as he carries your sons to the backyard. Namjoon shuts the front door before heading to the kitchen to grab you a bottle of water. You thank him when he hands the bottle to you and the both of you head to the backyard.

You take a seat at the table with all the snacks, waiting for lunch to be prepared. Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung chase your children around the yard. Jungkook had Yoongi build them a playground set for when they stay over to visit.

“Mommy!” your oldest comes running toward you. “What’s beer pong?”

You shoot a look at Jimin that could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants.

“It’s a game for adults,” Namjoon swoops in, taking his son from you.

“Oh,” your son laughs. “Jimin said you can’t play because you’re having a sister.”

You sigh heavily. “You’re getting a sister. Jimin needs to mind his business.”

Jimin waves from his spot. “Sorry!”

Taehyung cackles as he lifts your youngest onto his shoulders. You shake your head as Jungkook goes after them toward the slides. Your oldest screeches as he wiggles out of Namjoon’s hold to join them.

Hoseok scoops him up and runs with him, both laughing as they go. Jungkook demands to be pushed in the swing while your oldest claims the highest point as his kingdom.

Namjoon drapes his arm over your shoulder as you take in the scene unfolding before you. Seokjin and Yoongi talk animatedly about something by the grill, your other friends play with your children, and you know the baby on the way will have just as much love as your sons. Your heart swells with happiness. So much love to go around. You’ve always been loved and accepted by the seven men present, and that love has overflowed and been passed onto your children as well. You couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to call your friends; your family.

Namjoon isn’t the least bit surprised to see you crying, with a smile on your face.

“My Crybaby,” he chuckles as he kisses your forehead. “Always my Crybaby.”

<< previous

[trashpandato]

Earth

It’s a few days after the initial flurry of Kara coming out to the world as Supergirl. Kara won’t lie; she’s exhausted. It’s a combination of days of back-to-back interviews, of juggling her new responsibilities as Editor-in-Chief along with her appearances as Supergirl, both in a crime fighting capacity as well as those appearances that were more for show. Several weeks of nervous anticipation paired with new demands on her time have taken their toll. 

But finally, finally, she gets to relax with Lena on her couch one Friday evening.

They’ve had dinner already, sharing a few dishes from the new Thai restaurant that Kara has been dying to try for a while, and now Lena is sipping on her wine while Kara works her way through a container of ice cream. After this week, she deserves an extra treat, or three.

Lena has been quiet all evening, uncharacteristically so. Usually, when it’s just the two of them, Lena doesn’t hold back. Kara is about to ask her what’s wrong when Lena puts her wine glass down and fixes her with a searching look.

“You know,’ she says, her words hesitant and a little shaky, “I’m surprised you’re still here.”

Kara frowns. “What do you mean? This is my apartment.”

“No, I mean, here. On Earth.”

At that, Kara shifts so she can face Lena more fully. She doesn’t ask any more questions, wants Lena to get out what she needs to say without interruption.

“With Nyxly defeated, and Lex gone, hopefully for good this time, I thought you might want to, um, go home. To Argo. Be with your parents.”

Kara can hear the fear in Lena’s voice, can see the way her hands tremble a little. She has a pretty good idea how much courage it has taken Lena to broach the subject, and her heart aches a little when she thinks about how long Lena must have sat with these thoughts, mulling them over, stewing, like she does when she is worried about something.

“Lena,” she says, trying to infuse the next few words with as much clarity and conviction as possible, “I am home. Sure, eventually I’ll want to go visit Argo again for a couple of weeks, but Earth is home for me now. This is,” she adds, waving her hands between them, “you are.”

There’s a small gasp and then Lena looks up at her, eyes wide.

“Me?”

Kara nods and takes both of Lena’s fidgeting hands in her own.

“I feel like we still have unfinished business, you and I. With Nyxly and Lex and all the chaos they brought, we’ve barely had time to breathe. To talk. To think about what we want, moving forward.”

Kara watches as Lena tilts her head to the side just a bit. “What we want?”

“Mm. I know what I want. I know that I can’t envision a life without you. But I think we need to talk about what you want, too. I’ve been the one making decisions for the both of us for too long. I want to do it right, this time.”

Lena doesn’t answer, not right away. For a moment, all she does is stare at Kara, mouth slightly open, like she can’t quite believe what Kara just revealed. Kara isn’t sure if she should continue, if she needs to spell out for Lena that her dreams of the future include a shared home, a wedding in Midvale, lazy Sunday mornings in bed, and Lena at the center of it all. But before Kara can decide, Lena surges forward and crashes their lips together. It’s forceful enough that Kara tips backwards, surprised by Lena’s speed. It means that their first kiss isn’t quite what Kara had imagined it might be, a soft, delicate thing by the door before Lena heads out for the evening. Instead, Kara’s back is pressed into her couch and Lena is on top of her, pushing herself as close as she can get.

When Lena eventually pulls back a little, her lipstick smeared and her hair askew, there’s a bright smile on her face, the kind that makes her nose scrunch up a little.

“I know what I want, too.”

[moonlightspencie]

and i’m not how you hoped

Description: “forgive my northern attitude, oh i was raised out in the cold”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: drugs (reader smokes weed), alcohol consumption, past loss of a child

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: might write a part 2

playlist here!

Things had been weird. That much was for certain. We both knew there was something happening between us that neither of us wanted to address. Until we did.

What followed were a couple years of… not bliss, but the closest thing we could get to it. He was good to me; too good to me much of the time, if you ask me. But it worked. It was good and comfortable and entirely natural to us.

Though, as I always tended to do, I had to find a reason why it wouldn’t last.

Most of the time, he could reason with me. He was really good at that, actually. Being reasonable, and knowing me well enough to use what makes me tick against me in order to keep me from self-sabotaging.

But, as things always do, it changed. Now, something was weird again. And it was something I didn’t want to talk about. It was something he’d try to figure out, but never quite get.

I sat at the table in our motel room. We went on a case that weekend after Sam had seen something online about a possible werewolf. He’d tried suggesting it as a way to get us to let him help regardless of his still-healing broken arm. All that came of it was us leaving him behind to take care of it. And we did.

I’d gotten into bed, expecting Dean to meet me there after his shower. But, my body seemed to know something was off before I did. I woke up an hour later to see the impala missing.

So, I sat at the table. Waiting.

“You’re back late,” I noted, not looking up.

I didn’t need to. I could smell alcohol and stale cigarette smoke rolling off of him. He’d been at the bar all night, that wasn’t a secret. I just wished I didn’t have to hear him lie about it.

“I needed to go for a drive.”

I looked up at that, simply raising a brow. We both knew he didn’t really mean that. Sure, he’d gone for a drive. But I knew that he’d be going back for the impala in the morning when he thought I wasn’t awake.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at his shoes.

“Sorry.”

I nodded. “I know. Just go shower.”

He shuffled into the motel bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him. I settled into bed again shortly afterwards, letting myself drift off the sounds of the water hitting shower tile. I woke in the early morning hours, his bed already empty.

I turned over, seeing the sunlight start to settle over the horizon and give a warm glow to the earth. I cuddled further into the comforter, deciding to close my eyes until I heard the rumble of an engine, the rustling of a take out bag hitting the table, and the mattress creaking under his weight. It all happened as I had preplanned it in my head, and only after all of that did I allow myself to pull my aching body out of the bed and into a stream of hot water.

I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me and bring relief to all of the parts of me that were battered and bruised on the case. Getting slammed into a wall was seldom a fun time. At least this place actually had some water pressure.

We drove down the road in silence, and I stared out the window. He tried a few times to strike up a conversation, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak more than a few words.

Things had been off for a long time. He knew it. I knew it.

It started when I raised concerns about his habits at the bar. It scared me sometimes how he’d drink until he was numb. He’d get back and pass out until the morning. He’d wake up half human. I hated the cycle of it.

But, really, it was more than that. I knew how he was.

What scared me most was that he’d started talking about our future. He’d started planning for when we were done hunting, or at least when we only took smaller cases to pass the time. He told me he wanted to marry me. Not in some big, fancy wedding. He said he wanted our family there, blood and found. He told me I didn’t have to wear a white dress if I didn’t want to, but that he’d love to see it if I chose to do it.

He told me he wanted kids eventually.

I didn’t know what to say at the time, and weeks later I still couldn’t figure it out. There was only one solution in my mind to it all.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he sighed, pulling to the side of the road and whipping the car into park. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“Don’t act dumb. You know exactly what.”

I huffed out a breath. “I can’t do this anymore, Dean.”

He was physically taken aback, his stare on me unwavering. He shook his head in disbelief as I tried not to notice.

“Can’t do what, exactly?”

“This. All of it.”

He reached out, a warm hand on my arm.

“Baby.”

“I can’t do it. I can’t lose you. I can’t watch something out there finally get to you. Or Sam. I really can’t watch you drink until you’re dead.”

“I’m doubt that’s going to be the thing to kill me.”

“It’s been every night, Dean. You’re sneaking out to do it.”

“I’m sorry, okay? But I’m not going to kill myself with a beer.”

“That’s not my point, Dean.”

“Whatever the hell your point is, you knew me before we got together. What changed in the past few months other than the fact that I told you I want to be with you for real?”

I sighed, my eyes scanning over my hands in my lap. He knew his answer, regardless of how much I tried to hide it. Part of me hating his method of self-medicating, that’s for sure. But a much larger part was scared of how much I loved him, and even more how much he seemed to love me. The way he could see through me so easily told me as much.

“I thought,” Dean started, shaking his head as he glanced away.

“You thought,” I said, almost as a confirmation that a thought is all it would be.

I watched him as he looked out the window. My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew I was being harsh, but I always told him to be careful getting too close to me. We’d both known too much loss.

“I tried telling you it wouldn’t work, Dean.”

He snapped his head towards me. “So that means you’ll shut me out the second we really get close to— to something real?”

I let out a breath, not able to bring myself to respond.

“Say something! Anything,” he pleaded, trying to mask his pain with anger. It didn’t work well.

“You don’t know what I’ve—”

“Dammit, then tell me,” he said, voice raising even more. “How am I supposed to know if you don’t say anything?”

“Try telling yourself that, Dean,” I replied before I could think.

“The difference is that I’ve opened up to you.”

I fell silent at that, taking a slow breath. He kept his eyes on me through it all, knowing he’d bested me on that point.

“I can’t lose anyone else,” I said quietly.

“You think I don’t know what that’s like?”

“Not like I do,” I stated firmly, looking at him with glassy eyes. “You know part of how I got into all of this.”

“What else?” he asked, voice growing quieter.

“I was twenty, settling down finally after breaking things off with my boyfriend at the time,” I began.

“Right. You were with your parents then.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Uh, but what I don’t tell anyone is that I was pregnant when I moved in with them. That’s why I moved in with them, actually. I could’ve taken care of myself, but I needed help with the baby.”

His faced dropped, and he reached his hand out to hold mine on instinct. I gave it a soft squeeze, appreciating the grounding he gave to me in that moment. He always knew how to calm my nerves, though this time even his hand engulfing mine only provided a tiny amount of comfort.

“Did…” he started, sighing softly. “Did you lose the baby?”

I shook my head, and his hand squeezed mine a little tighter. I didn’t dare look in his direction, turning my eyes outside the window. I looked at the trees blowing in the wind, the clouds passing by, and pretty much anything else that would take my attention away from what I was about to say.

“I had the baby. Her— her name was April,” I stuttered out, quickly wiping away tears as they fell with my free hand. “We got to spend two years together. The first six months were with my parents, and we moved south after that. She was everything to me. I never knew you could love someone that much, you know?”

“I’m so…”

“I know,” I cut him off.

“If I’d have known sooner,” he said, leaving me to figure out the rest.

“Would it really have stopped you from trying?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But I would’ve understood more. I could’ve been more sensitive. I could’ve been there for you.”

“That was ten years ago. You only got to know me a couple years back.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

He brought my knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there.

“You deserve to have someone who’s there for you when you need to talk. Pain doesn’t just go away. Especially— Especially since that kind of pain isn’t like anything else,” he said, keeping my eyes on his.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, though. You couldn’t understand what I lost.”

“I could still be there for you.”

I snorted out a laugh, and he merely looked at me curiously. I shook my head before I looked at him again.

“When did Dean Winchester become the soft and sensitive one?”

“You’ve given me a run for my money on the whole ‘cold and mysterious’ thing, sweetheart,” he said with a soft smile.

“I’ve won on the unattached part, too.”

His smile faded, a more somber look taking its place.

“You’re still leaving?”

“Telling you my closest secret doesn’t mean I’m obligated to stick around. I think we both know you’re not changing your ways anyhow.”

He nodded slowly, finally dropping my hand. He looked ahead, starting the car and pulling away from the lookout point as if it were any other day.

Each day passed so slowly over the next several months.

I packed up everything I had, though it wasn’t much, and just drove. I didn’t know where to yet at the time, but I needed to clear my head before I made any real decisions. Doing it behind the wheel seemed as good a place as any.

Eventually I found myself going north. It was like a magnetized pull, I couldn’t help myself. I drove and drove until I was in front of an old cabin that I still somehow had the key to.

It was almost the same as I remembered inside. A bit further north from where my parents had lived, but still a slice of home out in the woods. It needed a little work, but then again, so did I. I figured it could be a little project that would help each of us polish up a little.

It was a slow process, but eventually the cabin looked just like it did when I was a kid. It was airy and warm in the summer. And as the fall months rolled in, it was cozy and bright from the blaze in the fireplace.

I picked up old habits as I settled into my new home, needing a little buzz here and there when I wasn’t on the occasional hunt.

I rolled up slowly, methodically, letting it take the same mental place that I knew cleaning a gun would take for Dean. I wondered if he’d be disappointed in me. I wondered if he’d take the smoke from my lips and swallow it down like it was the sweetest autumn air. I took a deep breath, clearing out that air from my head and let the routine take over.

Routine carried me from the small dining table in the cabin, out the back door, onto the wooden deck, and right into an old, rickety rocking chair. The chill in the air seeped into my bones, and I wrapped my jacket closer around my body. I could hear the quiet chirps of a few birds telling me that it was far too late in the season for anyone to really enjoy being around here. But I couldn’t help myself.

Home was home. No matter how much I’d tried to remove myself from it as a kid, I always found my way back. It felt like an odd kind of comfort now. Now that everything has changed so much.

I wondered if April would’ve liked it here. She loved the snow when it came, I knew that much. Maybe she would’ve been able to grow accustomed to a more lingering cold. I wondered what would’ve happened if we’d have stayed with my parents up north. Though I rationalized that thinking about those ‘what-ifs’ would only tear me up. I didn’t know about any of the evil in the world outside of human beings. I couldn’t have done anything better to protect her and I had to force myself to remember that.

I looked out over the small patch of land that wasn’t covered in a blanket of trees. It was overgrown, I could see that well enough. I just didn’t care all that much. I breathed in deep, letting the crisp air fill my lungs. It smelled like pine and rain, with the faint smell of the chimney smoke seeping out of the cabin’s rooftop. The wind carried much of that smell in the opposite direction, much to my dismay. I wished it would come and wash away the smell of a different type of smoke that was soon to come.

I closed my eyes, letting the breeze carry itself over my body. It was growing colder with the fire-orange sky forcing itself into nighttime. I wished the sun would stay with me a little longer. But I was born and bred into the cold, and summer sunshine was always a privilege and blessing. I couldn’t expect it to stick around forever. I put the joint to my lips.

My eyes opened slowly. I lit up the end, letting the smoke slowly fill up my body like I was a hot air balloon and it was the only thing keeping me afloat. I exhaled slowly, watching the cloud float into the sky with the rest of it’s purer siblings.

I thought of Dean again, and this time I allowed myself to indulge for more than a few moments. I wondered what he was doing. Where he was. If there was some case pulling him across the states and even further than he already was from me. I wondered if he was even alive.

Life was dangerous. We all knew that much, and it was almost a comfort. It was hard to feel unprepared for the end of all things when you could recognize that you had a much larger margin for it than most other people. But I worried less for him when it came to being torn apart by werewolves or getting his neck snapped by a demon. I worried more that the bottle would take him long before he’d have a chance to die bloody.

Dying from liver failure seemed to be a much worse fate, I thought.

But, even so, I knew that whatever he was doing, he was probably drinking while doing it. It was another kind of morbid comfort. That wherever he was, I could know that one thing wouldn’t change: he’s been and probably always will be a functioning alcoholic. The bottle would be by his side through everything. Even if I couldn’t.

Maybe Dean wouldn’t really have a right to judge me for smoking. Vices were the things that kept us going when we felt like false virtues were perpetually being forced onto us. If we kept saving the world, maybe we deserved to fuck around a little on the side.

I sat with that for a little while, letting it chill me the same way the air did until my fingers felt the heat from the end of my nightly indulgence. I decided I could go for a cigarette.

Winter came in fast. In hindsight I should’ve known, but I hadn’t lived up north in so long. I pulled a blanket up to my chin as I settled on the couch after dinner, closing my eyes as my body warmed slowly. I’d already had my smoke for the night, and it was still in the process of settling in my body. The night was peaceful. Until there was a loud knock on my door.

I got up quickly, taking my gun from the side table and walking slowly towards the entry way. Nobody was supposed to know I was here, and I certainly wasn’t expecting visitors. I kept my gun behind the door, ready to pull it on whoever stood on the other side.

The door creaked loudly as I pulled it open, but the sound of my heart in my chest was much louder when I saw who was standing on the other side.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly, giving me a lopsided smile.

I let out a breath. “Hey.”

He sighed softly, looking past me into the cabin. I could see in his face he was sizing up the place, trying to see if I was safe enough here. That brain of his was always working, even when it was covert like this. Something people never seemed to see with him.

He’d always been undercut by everyone who knew him. Sammy was the smart one, Dean was just the muscle. But he was so much more than that. He was practically a genius in his own right. The amount he knew about various gods and monsters would blow most other hunters out of the water. All he’d seen and knew amounted to more than someone who spent all their time in a library. I knew that from firsthand experience. He’d shocked me time and time again with all of the facts he’d be able to pull out of thin air.

I stared at him as he took me in, too. He was sizing me up just as much as he’d done to the house. Trying to figure out if I’d been taking care of myself. He had a special talent for reading me in that way.

“How’ve you been?” he finally asked when he had his suspicions in place.

I shrugged. “Same old.”

“You look good.”

He could still make me blush. I stepped backwards, opening the door further.

“Do you want to come in?”

He nodded. “Please.”

I watched him as he walked past me, looking around the place.

“This is nice,” he stated at last, then looked back at me with a soft smile. “Where’d you find this?”

“Uh, it was a place Bobby helped my dad find years ago. I was just a little kid, but this place… It was like Disney World-equivalent.”

He laughed. “Screwed up standards we’ve got. This still looks like magic to me.”

I walked nearer. “It is.”

He fell quiet, giving me that same old look. It never got old, the way his eyes softened and his lips formed the slightest smile. It was almost imperceptible, but I could always tell when it was there.

“I needed to be back home,” I said, glancing around like I was seeing it all with new eyes. “It’s good for me.”

“You always talked like it was the greatest place in the world. I kind of always thought you’d end up back here. At least back in Wisconsin,” he shrugged. “I’m happy for you.”

I put my hands in my pockets. “You thought I’d come back here?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Felt kinda… Like it was supposed to happen. Not fate, just—”

“Inevitable?”

“Yeah.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, something clearly on his mind. I looked off towards the fireplace, noting how it had started to smolder rather than burn. That just wasn’t right.

I walked over abruptly, throwing a few fresh logs onto the pile, standing and staring until it was in a comfortable blaze once more. I let myself feel the warmth through my clothes for a few minutes.

I turned towards Dean again eventually, seeing him still in the same spot like he was stuck in time. I called him over, telling him to get warm by the fire. The winter months weren’t always kind this far up in the state, and he was clearly feeling the chill.

He came to stand next to me, his arm just barely brushed mine, but it still managed to send a spark all the way through my spine. Some things never changed, at least. He held out his hands, letting the fire’s warmth creep all the way up and through his clothes. He let out a soft breath, enjoying the blaze.

“It’s cold up here,” he stated.

“Always told you I grew up cold. Sun sets around 4:30, and the snow comes in hard.”

“What about in the summer?”

“Sweltering and beautiful.”

He laughed quietly, shaking his head after a few seconds. I gave him an amused smirk, looking up at him.

“What are you laughing about?”

He shrugged. “Grew up cold, but it’s still sweltering and beautiful. Just sounds a lot like you.”

I swallowed, not responding. We stood at the fireplace a minute longer before I finally found words to say. Probably the wrong ones.

“You smell like the bar,” I stated quietly.

“You smell like smoke,” he retorted.

I hummed. “Not much else to do up here in the dead of winter.”

I walked towards the couch, settling into the cushions and letting my body melt. He watched me as I did, waiting until I was comfortable to sit beside me. He let out a long, soft sigh.

“You could always come back. Hunt with us.”

I didn’t respond. Once again.

I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye. His arms were crossed over his chest, but even with his guarded appearance, I knew he was desperately wanting to open up. There was something on his mind, I just couldn’t quiet tell what it was.

“We miss you,” he said at last. “It’s not the same without you. And I don’t want to pull you away from all this, I just—”

He let out a breath again, though this time it was much heavier. I took a chance and turned my head to see him in full. He no longer looked all calm, cool, and collected. I could see it in his face. He was deeply uncomfortable with what he was saying, but he couldn’t quite stop himself from saying it anyways. He swallowed, looking down at his hands in his lap before he continued his thought.

“I’d really like it if you could come with sometimes. You don’t have to stay all the time, but I— me and Sammy… We just really miss you.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Dean.”

He nodded solemnly, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. I watched him for a moment, only speaking when I realized he wasn’t planning on saying anything else.

“I’m better off here. Sometimes I’ll grab a case if it’s nearby, but I’m pretty much as out as a hunter can get right now. And besides, everything that happened with…” I trailed off, looking away when he turned his head towards me. “Well, you know.”

He swallowed. “I know.”

We were quiet for a moment, a million thoughts running through my head and probably his. He looked at me for a moment.

“What changed?”

I raised a brow. “What didn’t?”

He smiled to himself a little, tilting his head down almost shyly. It still sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach when he smiled like that.

“You never really wanted to leave the life. Now you kind of have.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I don’t know, I guess it just— Hunting all the time like that just isn’t for me anymore, I guess. Things change.”

He sighed softly. “You know, I really don’t drink much anymore. I did tonight, but that’s mostly because I was terrified to see you.”

I looked at him, catching his eye quickly. I didn’t know what to say, and it was clear after a moment that he didn’t either.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked after another beat of silence.

“He stayed behind. Wanted to give me some space.”

I nodded.

We both turned, looking into the flames of the fireplace for a while. It was quiet again, but a bit less uncomfortable, now. He breathed slowly, the rhythm of his chest rising and falling calming me down. Several minutes passed just like that. Peaceful silence.

I felt the cushion he was on shift a bit eventually. Little by little his hand moved towards mine. And I let it happen. I even opened my hand to his when his palm finally covered my fingers entirely.

I heard his breath change at last, one big sigh let out, as our fingers intertwined. I’m sure my breath sounded a tiny bit erratic, but I’m certain the effects of the weed were helping to calm any nerves I’d be feeling. That what I tried telling myself, even as I turned my head towards him and opened my mouth to speak.

“Do you need someplace to crash?”

“No, I have a room.”

I breathed in. “Will you stay anyways?”

He froze up for a few seconds. Then…

“Always.”

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Twenty-One

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~3.2k

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The sky blushes with the hues of the setting sun as you and Shanks step into a soft, grassy clearing. The world around you seems to hold its breath, wrapped in the golden embrace of twilight. The trees form a natural barrier, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze, creating a melody that dances through the air.

You walk side by side with Shanks, your fingers now constantly seeking to brush against his. Each touch sends a thrill through your veins, a thrill you are trying to hold onto while not allowing the tension of your argument to ruin your mood. You glance up at him, catching the way the dying light paints his features in shades of gold and bronze. His red hair catches the sun's rays, turning into a fiery halo around his head.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Shanks' voice breaks the silence, low and rich.

“Very much indeed,” You reply, still staring at him. Shanks chuckles and eyes you.

"I was talking about the scenery," You laugh softly, and lean into his side on your next step.

"So was I," you retort, your gaze remains fixed on him. "He is painfully handsome I must admit.”

Shanks leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "And you, treasure, are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You feel a flush creeping up your cheeks, and you playfully push him away. "Stop it, or I'll start thinking you're trying to win me over."

He laughs, the sound rich and genuine. "Win you over? I thought I already had."

"Maybe," you say, tilting your head playfully. "But it never hurts to keep trying."

Shanks grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Challenge accepted." His smile began to fade and you can see his thoughts turning away from playful banter. You needed to talk, this was a most intimate place to hold such conversation. The playful atmosphere dissipates, replaced by the weight of unspoken words. You step away slightly, your smile fading from your lips. Shanks takes a deep breath, catching your elbow and turning you so you face him. His eyes lock onto yours.

"Aria," he begins, his voice steady but filled with an underlying tension. "We've been avoiding this for too long. I can't keep pretending that everything's fine."

You cross your arms over your chest, a defensive gesture you can't help. "What are you trying to say, Shanks?"

He takes a deep breath, his one hand running through his red hair. "I don't want to hold you back from exploring the world. You've got so much ahead of you, and I can't be the reason you miss out on any of it."

Your heart aches at his words, but you push down the rising emotion. "And what if I don't care about all that? What if I just want to be happy? Is that not enough?"

Shanks steps closer, his eyes searching yours for something. "I want you to be happy too. But being with me means danger, uncertainty... a life constantly on the run. Your longing for exploration is limited."

You take a step back and run your hand through your hair, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "You think I'm naïve? That I don't understand the risks?"

Shanks shakes his head, his jaw tightening. "That's not what I meant. I just... I don't want you to regret this later."

"Regret?" Your voice rises, filled with incredulity. "The only thing I'll regret is not kicking your ass for being a complete imbecile. Do you even understand what it was like for me? Trapped, suffocating under that life they planned for me!"

His eyes flash with something—anger, guilt, something more complicated than either. "I know what you've been through, Aria. But running away from one trap doesn't mean running into another is the answer."

Your fists clench at your sides. "This isn't a trap! This is freedom! And you are trying to take it away from me because you're scared."

"I'm not scared," he snaps, but the look in his eyes betrays him.

"Then what is it?" You demand, stepping closer. "Why are you pushing me away?"

"Because I love you!" The words explode from him, raw and unfiltered. His chest heaves with the effort of containing so much emotion.

"Then why are you trying to make this so difficult?" You shout back, grinding your teeth together to stop yourself from speaking words you might regret.

"Because loving you means wanting what's best for you," Shanks says through gritted teeth. "Even if it means letting you go."

Tears blur your vision, but you blink them away furiously. "I don't need you to decide what's best for me, Shanks. I can make my own choices."

His eyes darken with a mix of frustration and longing. Before you can react, he steps forward and grabs your shoulders, pushing you back against the trunk of the nearest tree.

The rough bark bites into your back as he looms over you, his breath hot against your face. "You drive me crazy," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, like you don't return it ten fold?" You fire back at him, eyes blazing with fire. Shanks doesn't respond, instead his lips dive down to yours. You gasp against his mouth, but then your arms are around his neck, pulling him closer as every ounce of tension between you ignites into something far more powerful and consuming.

You can taste the desperation on his lips as he kisses you, his tongue searching for yours and tangling together in a heated dance. His hand moves from your shoulder, sliding down your arm and intertwining with your fingers. You feel his calloused fingers against your skin, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

Shanks deepens the kiss, his lips pressing harder against yours as he leans into you, his body pinning you against the tree. Your heart races in your chest, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. You can feel the intensity of his emotions, the passion and longing that has been building up between you for so long.

As the kiss continues, you become aware of the world around you fading away. There's no ship, no crew, no pirates or marines. It's just the two of you, lost in the moment, caught in the storm of your emotions. The only sound is your ragged breathing and the soft moans that escape your lips as Shanks' tongue explores the depths of your mouth.

His hand leaves yours just as quickly as it had taken it, traveling up your arm and resting on your cheek. He cups your face harshly, his thumb caressing your skin as he pulls your face deeper into the kiss and you feel as if he intends to devour you. You wouldn't complain.

Shanks tears his mouth away from yours, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare up at him, your emotions a chaotic storm. Without warning, he releases your jaw and grabs his knife from his belt, the blade catching the last light of the setting sun.

"What are you doing?" Your voice is a mix of breathlessness and confusion, but he doesn't answer. Instead, he slices through your shirt with a swift motion, the fabric falling away in tatters.

"Shanks!" you exclaim, trying to cover yourself with your arms. But he's relentless, his eyes dark with desire as he runs the tip of his knife between your skin and bra. The poor bra drops from your body as you make another noise of outrage in the back of your throat.

"I'll buy you dozens more," he promises, his voice rough and low. "But right now, I need you bare, treasure.”

Before you can protest further, his mouth descends on your breasts, hot and demanding. You let out a moan and dig one of your hands into his hair. His tongue flicks over your sensitive skin, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. You gasp and arches your back, pushing your breast into his mouth as his lips work their magic.

His mouth suckles your breast, tongue laving at your nipple with a hunger that rivals a starving man. His hand drops his knife in favor of cupping the breast yet to receive attention.

You can feel the heat of his desire radiating off him, and it only fuels the fire burning inside you. You arch into him, squirm against his body, your fingers pulling on his hair as you let out a soft moan.

"Shanks," you breathe, your voice trembling with need. His name on your lips is bar far the sweetest he has ever heard and he desires more. More of you.

Shanks pulls away from kissing your bare chest, his lips leaving a trail of heat against your skin. His breath comes out in ragged pants, matching the rhythm of your own racing heart. You watch him with wide eyes, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

"I want to taste more of you," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

Your eyes widen as he sinks to his knees in front of you, your arm around his neck dropping against he shoulders for balance while his hand moved with practiced ease to the waistband of your trousers. His fingers work deftly on the buttons, each one coming undone with a soft click. You shudder as he tugs the fabric down over your hips, exposing more of your skin to the cool evening air.

"Shanks..." you whisper, your voice trembling. The sight of him kneeling before you sends a rush of heat through your body, making you feel both vulnerable and incredibly desired.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust and something deeper—something that makes your heart ache with longing. "Trust me," he says softly, his hands gliding down your legs as he helps you step out of the trousers and underwear.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the anticipation building with each passing second. His one hand grips your hip, steadying you as you lean back against the rough bark of the tree and dig your fingers into the bark.

The cool evening air brushes against your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Shanks' body. You shiver, but not from the cold. Shanks looks up at you one last time, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper that makes your heart ache.

"Trust me," he murmurs again, his voice sending a thrill through your veins.

You nod, unable to find your voice. Shanks' lips curve into a small smile before he lowers his head further. The first touch of his mouth against you sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. You gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair.

His tongue flicks out, teasing and exploring, each movement sending waves of sensation through you. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, but it escapes anyway, raw and desperate.

Shanks' hand on your hip tightens its grip as he pulls you closer to his mouth. His tongue moves with practiced skill, finding all the right places to make you shudder and gasp. You brace yourself against the tree trunk, your fingers digging into the rough bark as you struggle to keep yourself upright.

Your world narrows down to the sensation of Shanks' mouth on you, the heat and pressure building with each flick of his tongue. Shifting against his mouth, your indulgent noises turn to desperate whines and your fingers sharply pull on his hair. But that only seems to fuel his fervor.

"Shanks..." you moan, your voice trembling with need. Your legs begin to shake, but Shanks' grip on your hip keeps you steady. He hums against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your breaths come out in ragged pants as Shanks continues his relentless assault on your senses. Then his tongue circles your clit repeatedly, each movement pushing you further towards release. You can't hold back the pressure in your abdomen any longer. With a cry of pleasure, you arch your back and let go as Shanks drives you over the edge.

Your world explodes into a million stars, your body quivering as waves of pleasure ripple through you. The intensity leaves you breathless, your fingers still tangled in Shanks' hair. As you come down from the high, Shanks rises to his feet, his face glistening with your essence and eyes burning with raw desire.

He makes quick work of the strings of his trousers, his movements efficient and almost frantic. The anticipation builds again as you watch him, your heart pounding in your chest. When he frees himself, his cock stands erect, a testament to his arousal.

Without a word, Shanks grabs your leg and pulls it against his waist, the roughness of his movements only heightening your need. His cock presses against you, hot and insistent, and he begins to rut against your still-quivering body. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, reigniting the fire that had only just begun to subside.

You grunt and whimper, gripping his shoulders for support, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingers. Each thrust brings him closer, the head of his cock brushing against your most sensitive spot. Your breaths come out in ragged pants as the pleasure builds once more, threatening to consume you entirely. He wasn't even in you yet!

"Don't tease," you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

Shanks' eyes bore into yours, dark with lust and something deeper, something that makes your heart race even faster. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. His tongue dances with yours, a wild, desperate tangle of heat and need. You can even taste yourself on his tongue. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you locked in this fervent embrace.

You gasp into his mouth as he positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against your slick folds. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he pushes forward, filling you bit by bit. The stretch is intense, almost too much, but the pleasure that follows is all-consuming.

Shanks pulls back slightly, his breath hot against your lips. "Aria," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "You feel incredible."

You can't form a coherent response, your mind too clouded with pleasure to think clearly. Instead, you tighten your leg around his waist, urging him deeper. Shanks groans at the sensation, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself inside you completely.

The rhythm he sets is aggressive and wild, each thrust driving him deeper into your cunt. it makes your back scrape against the bark your pressed against but the kiss of pain only heightens the pleasure. One of your hands makes it way to his jaw and you pull his lips harder against yours, urging them to part so that you may drink in his taste. Rather than give you what you want, Shanks' tongue snakes out and takes control of yours.

You're lost in the intensity of the moment, the raw hunger of Shanks' kiss, the feel of his body moving against yours, inside yours. The world around you is nothing but a blur, the sounds of the jungle fading into insignificance compared to the pounding of your heart and the ragged gasps of your breath you make against his tongue.

Shanks' hand moves from your hip, sliding between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, each movement of his hand matching the rhythm of his hips. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a coiling tension that threatens to overwhelm you completely.

You break the kiss, your head falling back against the tree as you let out a moan that echoes through the quiet grove. Your body tightens around Shanks, your muscles trembling with the effort of holding back the tide of pleasure that's threatening to crash over you. Even your leg around his waist begins to tremble and shake against his body.

"Let go, treasure,” Shanks growls, his voice low and husky in your ear. "I've got you."

His words are all it takes to send you spiraling over the edge. You cry out as the pressure inside you shatters, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you as you cling to Shanks for support. Your body convulses around his, the contractions of your release drawing a deep, guttural moan from his lips.

The intensity of your release leaves you trembling, your body quivering against the rough bark of the tree. Shanks' breath is hot against your neck as he groans, pulling out of you with a swift, deliberate motion. The sudden emptiness makes you gasp, your muscles still spasming in the aftermath of your climax.

Shanks rests his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy and ragged. His eyes are dark and filled with a mix of desire and something deeper that makes your heart ache. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the evidence of his own arousal still pressing insistently against your thigh.

For a moment, the world seems to stand still. The jungle around you is silent, the only sound the mingled rhythm of your breaths. You reach up, cupping Shanks' face in your hands, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingers. He leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the sensation.

Then he opens them again and meets your gaze with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. Without a word, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss that's both tender and possessive. It's a stark contrast to the wild passion of moments before, but it sends a different kind of thrill through you.

Your lips move against his in a slow, deliberate dance, each touch igniting sparks of pleasure that linger in the aftermath of your high. You can taste yourself on his lips, a reminder of just how intimately you've been connected. Shanks' hand moves to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

You lose yourself in the sensation, the world narrowing down to just you and Shanks. His mouth is warm and insistent against yours, each movement conveying a depth of emotion that words can't capture. It's as if he's trying to tell you something with every touch of his lips, something that goes beyond desire.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathless. He rests his forehead against yours once more, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something. At the very least, thoughts of your argument had long since left your minds. You sigh and press your fingers into his cheek.

"You are going to have to give me your shirt because I am not walking back to the ship topless." The sly grin that slowly makes its way onto Shanks' face is all too telling of how much he is enjoying this moment.

Shanks chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Fair enough," he says, reaching down to the hem of his shirt. With a swift motion, he pulls it over his head and hands it to you. His chest is bare now, the muscles rippling under his tanned skin. You can't help but admire, a pleasant smile blooming upon your lips. At least the view you will have walking back is more than enough to make up him ruining your shirt and bra.

Date Published: 6/24/24

Last Edit: 7/29/24

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[heroloverangel]

Nest

You and Hawks plan for the future.

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for Hawks. With his schedule, it was clear that you’d be spending a lot of time on your own and would rarely get more than a few hours a week together. Still, it was a small price to pay if it meant getting to be with the man you’ve grown to love. Sure, you not exactly thrilled that your honeymoon was a three-day weekend at home when his wings were damaged, but you’re not going to waste what little time you have with him complaining.

“Hey.” His voice is rough from sleep as you hear him shuffle forward to you. You’ve got your back to him as you wash the dishes, and your heart beats a little faster when warm arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest. “You busy?”

You shut the water off before leaning more into his embrace, letting him walk you backwards to the couch. “Not at all. You have a nice nap?” He nods and presses his face into your neck, and you run your fingers through his messy hair. He practically coos into your touch and only squeezes you tighter. “Keigo? You okay?”

He nods and meets your eyes with a tired smile. “I’m good, just kinda been thinking about some things.” Your wedding ring catches his attention and he reaches for your hand. “I get that it’s only been a couple weeks, but I’m pretty sure this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Your heart melts and you cuddle closer to him on the couch. “Me too. I wish we got more time together, but every minute like this makes it all worth it.” He hums happily, and you wonder if that’s all he wanted to say. It’s no secret that he’s always starved for affection, and you’ve got more than enough to sustain him. His wings fold in around you, wrapping the two of you in a little world of your own. You snuggle on the couch together for a few more minutes before you decide it’s time to finish the dishes and begin to stand.

You’re not expecting his next move as he reaches for you again. “I wanna have a baby,” he blurts out with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer crashing through a wall. 

You’re caught offguard. “You what?”

Keigo grabs for your hand and links his fingers with yours. “Uh…that was kinda sudden,” he laughs awkwardly. “We did talk about having kids someday,” he points out.

“Well, yeah, but when we said someday I didn’t think you meant this month!” 

He winces but tries harder to explain himself. “I really didn’t either, at first. I’ve never really had anyone of my own until you, though, and I love what we have together.” You nod but don’t interrupt him. “And adding a kid to the mix, some little chick that’s the best of you and me combined for us to take care of and love, don’t you think that’d be amazing?”

Now that the initial shock has worn off, you have to admit you’re not entirely opposed to the idea. “It would, I think.” You see the emotion in his eyes and it dawns on you. “You never had that growing up, did you?” Hawks shakes his head, and your chest aches with the thought that anyone could have denied him so much. You squeeze his hand back just as hard. “Oh, babe. You’re gonna be a great dad, but are you sure we’re ready to fill up a nest? You’re already stretching yourself so thin with everything,” you point out.

“I’ll get more time off,” he insists. “The top ten don’t get much in the way of parental leave, but I’ll find a way to swing it. I can trust the sidekicks to take on more of the work, they’ve been complaining about not having enough to do for awhile now. And there are so many other heroes who owe me favors, I bet I can cash some of those in for an extra night off every week. I’ll make it work,” he promises, already pulling out his phone. “If Endeavor could manage to raise four kids while he was in my position, I’ll figure out a way to handle one.”

You sigh and give his hand a reassuring squeeze of your own. “I know you will, and I want that with you. Just give me some time to think about how soon I want it, okay?” He swallows hard and nods, flashing you a smile that always makes you fall in love all over again.

He doesn’t bring it up again, there’s no reason to dwell on it when you both know it’s a conversation you won’t forget. Still, you can’t help noticing his eyes seem to wander towards your middle more than usual and how he’s even more eager to wrap his arms and wings around you every chance he gets. You know how important this is, but you surprise even yourself how quickly you reach a decision.

There’s a ball of nerves in your stomach knowing exactly what you’re agreeing to, but it’s tempered by a swell of excitement you weren’t expecting. Hawks has always been known as a man too fast for his own good, and you shouldn’t have expected anything different once you got married. “Okay, I’ve thought about it enough,” you announce one night while he relaxes after work and he looks back up at you with wide eyes. “Keigo, let’s have a baby.” You both smile at each other while the words sink in, and then he’s leaping off the couch and pulling you into a hug that squashes the air from your lungs.

“You’re sure? We really don’t have to jump into it if you want more time,” he insists, but you’ve already made up your mind. “That’s so great,” he gushes and cups your cheek to pull you in for a long kiss. “Y’know, it’s probably gonna take a couple tries. We better go ahead and get started now, mama bird.”

You cackle with laugher as you’re scooped up in a flurry of feathers without another word. You don’t think the smirk on his face has ever been bigger as he brings you down the hallway, nearly knocking the door off its hinges in his haste to give you a full nest.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 25

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 3.5k

IMPORTANT a/n: I am really sorry, you can start the Mari witch hunt now. Chapter 26 is in the editing stage... message me questions. I've had this exact chapter drafted for about a year. I want to hear your thoughts while we enter the third part of this story.

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

“You do understand that this is a traumatic event?”

Javier ashes his cigarette with a head shake. His bones are aching and tired and he feels old. Like he’s ready to retire at the peak of twenty six. It’s always warm, it’s humid like the day of his false wedding. No one knows his pain but he’s willing to share it. We need therapy, you told him once.

Look at me, I’m trying. 

He doesn’t take the words of his work appointed therapist very seriously but it’s taken him twelve sessions to finally talk about it. The first words other than good afternoon out of Dr. Hertz mouth already frustrates him. It frustrates him more how attracted he is to her. He swears her exact hair color is yours when he left. She sits with a pencil skirt like all the women around the office do. Besides his boss, she’s always in a pantsuit. Skin tan from the Colombian sun, nails always done in a square tip—scribbling in a notebook. That wasn’t like you, the nails. It was rare if you ever had them done, he’d like running his thumb over your nail beds, an odd spot that tickled you. He missed you so badly. 

“The situation hurt her the most.” 

Dr. Hertz fixed herself a frown and a nod, pen to paper a dry sound that ticked him off. “Take it from the top for me please.” 

The night of June 16th 1986

Javier decides to grab his thick work file before  he drives to the hotel he wanted to share with you. Sitting in a chair that has housed many sad men like him, he frowns over the case details of pregnant drug smugglers' corpses and child detainments for gun possession. Ashing into a tray that isn’t his. 

His head hurts and so does his hand, it’s nerves are short circuiting while he holds himself from calling you. He doesn’t want to think about tonight at all. He doesn’t want to continue to be haunted by Lorraine and the swell at her stomach. Avoiding the thought—that it could be—he abandons it. Instead he buries his nose in cigarette smoke and work for the night, he much rather be buried in the crook of your neck. Inside you, beside you, looking at you, holding you, speaking to you– he just wants you here. He hates to waste time and he isn’t sure why he feels a sick instinct that you maybe have less time then he believes. 

He decides to call after his 3rd cigarette. It’s a long shot considering it’s 3 am but he has never been good with self control. He pictures your face as you sleep, he’s watched it despite your pleas to fall asleep alongside you, he likes to watch before he does. You always sleep on your stomach, hands on either side of you like you were tossed in bed, one on his chest and a cheek smushed. You drool, he won’t tell you that but you do. He’s frowning while he dials, you hadn’t told him you loved him back tonight, he wonders what he did wrong. Or if it really just Lorraine. 

“Hello?” Your voice is dry and very much awake. 

“Andrea.” Is all he can itch out his throat, he isn’t even sure why he called you. Maybe just to hear your voice, that's reason enough right? 

“It’s late, baby.”

He thinks maybe he could just hang up now, whatever urge he felt all night had been fulfilled with three simple words in your sweet voice. He closes his eyes fighting an urge to drive back forty minutes to your house. 

“Yeah-yeah I know. Just want to hear you before I sleep.” 

“Well, you're hearing me. I love you.”

He nods, he knows. It’s his religion, those words leaving you.  “Will I be able to see you tomorrow?” 

You hold silence for a beat, an exhale beyond the receiver. “Yes, I want to sleep in your bed this time.”

“Okay.” He says pathetically quick, nodding like you could see just how serious he is about spending time with you. You giggle, and he wonders what changed in the last few hours since he left you in the aftermath of your brother's wedding. Maybe you just missed him too. 

“Okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

He can't help himself, he just can't. 

He says it like a whisper, like it's a secret. 

“¿Sabes que te amo, verdad?”

“I know, I just–" You take a second, like you know what you're going to say will hurt him. He can't tell if you're bracing yourself or giving him time do so as well.

"Sometimes I just miss you when you're around and it's tiring to feel like I’m still fighting to keep you."

Colombia 1988

“I couldn't understand that. When we were together each moment felt like she was slipping away from me. I just didn’t know she could feel the same way. I was a present partner.” He sighs, an itch in his molars. A weird tick he gets when he wants to see your face. “I tried to be.”

Dr. Hertz pressed her lips in a firm smile, “It may seem difficult to assess a situation you are so tied to, do you suppose maybe Andrea felt this way because your relationship was on borrowed time?”

“It wasn’t on borrowed time.”

“Maybe borrowed time isn't the correct phrase, but you began the relationship fully aware that you would leave. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you agree that-that idea could’ve struck a nerve in the insecurities you said she had in relationships.”

“Is this a therapy session for her or for me?” Javier snaps and he isn’t sure why he takes it there, isn’t sure why he says her name so bitterly like you did anything wrong. Dr. Hertz nods, and scribbles with a crease between her brow. 

“I have never met Andrea, you are my patient. I want to help you recognize a place we could work together to improve.” 

“Alright.” He rolls his jaw for a moment feeling like a scolded child. His eyes flick to the clock. Another half hour left, he wants to head back into his apartment where it’s safe. 

“Alright, was it the next morning that you met with Lorraine?” 

Javier’s nostrils flare, thinking of her makes him feel physically ill. She says her name and sees your face when he tells you. 

“I didn’t meet up with her, I was ambushed.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, the weight of the word feeling useless in this setting. He knows what the word truly means, ambushed, he stood in front of Carillo’s closed casket days after the ambush. “I was caught off guard.” Javier decides to correct himself.

The next morning, June 17th 1986

There is another car in his driveway. A car unfamiliar to him. The sun blares down and he’s already sun tired and he just woke two hours ago. He decides to light a cigarette before stepping up to his front door, still his father holds a no smoking policy in the house. 

He shuts his eyes, eyelids burning orange and he drags in his first breath since last night. He wonders if you’d be free for a drive to the lake. You played into his biggest fantasy a few days ago in your tiny bikini, nose nuzzled in your mound. He’d like to do it again. 

He could hear the main road 3 minutes down the hill, that and the crackling from his burning cigarette. He flicks his wrist to check the time, strange for his father to have guests at any time of day. Javier shrugged it off with a step on the cigarette butt. He’s been burning through them lately, smoking one for only two minutes. He supposes his habit is now an addiction, he’s good at it at least. 

Javier walks up the small steps to his front door to be greeted by his father with a frown. His eyes scan over his father’s body, blocking any view of the inside of the house. His body on autopilot, he hands the car keys to his father like he does every time he comes home. But the air was still and this wasn’t like every time he came home. Javier’s heart dropped to his stomach, a fear that something happened to you. “¿Qué pasó? ¿Quién está aquí?"

“Lorraine and her parents are here.” 

Javier shuts his eyes and takes a step back into the porch. Allowing his father to follow him, shutting the screen door behind them. Javier pinches his nose. 

“I’m not interested in talking to them. Fuck this.” Javier pats his pockets for the keys he had just given away without thinking.

“You can’t leave this time.”

Javier walks into his home. Feeling like he’s attending a principals conference. His pastor–the father of his ex-girlfriend, her mother and her sat on the couch with solemn faces. Javier nods at both parents, adjusting his collar bundled with nerves. Despite feeling betrayed by his own father, he still will never disrespect guests in the home he built. Javier offers his hand to Mr. Smithfield to which he takes because ultimately he is a christian. He presses a kiss to the cheeks of Mrs. Smithfield and Lorraine. It reminds him of the first time he had dinner at their home. He knew the family his whole life because of church but being introduced as their darling girl's boyfriend was one of the most anxiety inducing moments of his adolescence. He remembers them with the same stone cold faces, ready to devour him whole if he had stepped out of line. 

He knew them as powerful people, he knew if he had wronged their daughter he would no longer have any work in town. 

So, Javier was quite the wreck.

“Sorry If i kept you all waiting— I was caught off guard.” Javi sits across from them, all scary looking with intense sad stares. 

Mr. Smithfield nods, “We knew you wouldn’t have shown if you were given a warning.” 

His initial reaction is to rebut, to jump to his feet and tell them they hadn’t had a clue of who he was. It feels like a body shot. Javier hadn’t grown into a full man yet. The comment still triggered the nerve that sends him off on anger infused raves. He thinks of you, and the face you’d make if he did. He realizes that this moment is one he shouldn’t run from, maybe this will be the moment to prove himself to be a better man. For you. It’s wrong but it’s what he thinks. 

If he stays here and listens to whatever berating this family has for him, maybe, just maybe, you’ll be proud of him for hearing them out. 

So Javier clenches his jaw and allows Mr. Smithfield to speak. “We as parents are concerned for our daughter. Javier— you know we trusted you with her and we see clearly that you took care of her. But—you bolted in her most vulnerable moment.”

Javier furrows his brows, looking into the eyes of Lorraine.

 She seems to have been in another room, on another planet. Her icy eyes, the ones he once gazed into with adoration— served him nothing but coldness. He wanted to snap in her face and ask if she was there. Was this a bad dream? He looks to his father once more. Chucho stands at the arm of the couch with his arms crossed. Javier never felt this weak. 

Look at me

At least look at me Lorraine.

He assumes this silence as an olive branch for his explanation. 

He’s unsure of what he needs to explain but he does anyway. 

“Mr… and Mrs.” Javier looks at the both of them, god what scary looking people. “I care for Lorraine, for a long time I loved her but we were too young and too serious. We fell out of love just as fast and— and we stayed together out of convenience for our careers but there were weeks where we didn’t speak to each other. We didn’t have the time or the will to work on it.” 

It was the truth. Last year they reached a point where she’d come in without a word, dropping groceries on the counter, ripping off her scrubs, getting into bed and locking the door. A sign that tonight, Javier must sleep on the couch. He stared at the bubbled ceiling, with his bones aching from his oversized limbs making space in the futon. He stared until his eyes burned and wondered what he was doing with his life just at the ripe age of twenty three. 

Mrs. Smithfield looks like she’s seen red, like, how dare you not love my daughter? Javier is sure if she’d said those words out loud he’d laugh and send them all to hell. But she doesn’t. 

She does not. 

Her chin quivers and her nose twitches. Teeth barred like she’s about to let out a profanity but instead, she begins to cry. 

“But you have time to get my daughter pregnant.”

Colombia 1988

Javier laughs bitterly. As if the sentence didn’t ruin his life. Here he is whining about it to his beautiful therapist. She frowns, shaking her head. Javier wants the session to end already. 

“It was like I died in that living room. The dreams I was just creating stayed there. I was in so much shock I hadn’t even second guessed the accusation.”

She nods with that understanding face of hers, it reminds him a bit of yours.

“It may be important to understand the rest of your story, it may be important to know exactly what you felt after she revealed the news.”

Javier is bothered by the way the doctor says news as if any of it had been truthful. 

Javier lights another, Dr. Hertz scribbles a short one. Javier flicks his eyes up to hers as his cigarette burns. 

“You keepin’ tally?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm.

She doesn’t smile, “Yes. I am. Please continue.”

Javier stares at her for a moment and it reminds him so much of you it makes him sick. He can’t help but obey. 

“Truthfully, I first felt like I regressed. I had been cruising through my life until that moment, losing track of time. I thought… how? I’m just a kid? I felt like I was ten and my dad was sitting me on that same couch to tell me my mom ran off. I was in that same head space. Both times I felt like I was being punished for my actions, both times I felt like an open wound, ”

“You felt like both situations had been karma?”

“Yes. I felt like a human wedge between my father and my mother. My existence had been a bad mark and when she left it was a final message of “look what you’ve done.” Javier’s throat is scratchy and he wishes these things were said to you first but he supposes a professional listener will do. “And I grew up to be so selfish and reckless, reckless with my relationships and with sex. And so abruptly I decided to leave that all behind for Andrea, I started to be safe, caring, a better man. But there I was facing the consequences of my own actions. Look what I have done.”

Look at the mess I made.

Will you still love me? After I have made a mess of all we found sacred? 

She nods with a look in her eyes that feels bright, like she was so proud of him for such an articulate and honest answer. He wasn’t sure why today he was being so honest. 

“Anyway. I was stumbling over my words asking how she knew— which felt like a shitty question to ask in front of her parents but considering the outcome I guess I was onto something.” Javier pulls his cigarette from his lips with a pulled brow, he’s burning through these far too quickly, he’ll be broke in no time. “She told me she was 5 months which tied me back to being her only sexual partner the entire year of 1985 and some of 1986 you know until I moved away. I just went cold while her family ranted.”

He hears them in his head when he looks at Dr. Hertz. He spares her the details, their time is inching towards the finish line. 

“We talked with your father and we know you’re a good young man. We know our daughter was tempted.”

“I don’t see you as a man to abandon his child.”

“Our daughter will not have this child out of wedlock.”

“We are willing to make arrangements swiftly to stifle the talk in our church.”

He sat with his head in his hands.  Ears ringing and he felt so fucking guilty for having such a reaction to his own consequences. For being so broken when he wasn’t the person carrying the child, for the woman across from him. 

And he knows her family well, he knows that their faith and christianity only stretches so far. He knows about Lorraine’s eldest brother who came out as gay and is no longer seen in Laredo. He knows Lorraine despite their fall out, he knows the stress of image that was placed on her at just six years old. He knows, he held her head as she cried while she spoke about their conditional love. It scares him deep in his soul, he knows and it breaks him. That he’d not only ruin her life but his future child’s life if he doesn’t man up.  He knows that the delicate bones in her body move aside for life, a life he had part in creating. He could not–he cannot add to the stress. He sees it in her gaze.

“I know now I was seeing guilt in her eyes. She knew the child wasn’t mine, she took advantage of me. But at the time I saw a girl I had loved, I saw her alone in a room full of people.” Javier leans against the chair. “I was a fucking idiot.”

“You were trying your best.” Dr. Hertz corrects him, “You were deceived, you were young. When you speak of Lorraine you still have room for grace and understanding of her circumstance despite her manipulating you and still, still you give her that grace to be a flawed human . You should apply that to yourself too. “

Javier looks down at his shoes for a moment. His brows pulled tightly together. His chin quivers and he isn’t sure why he feels her words with such intensity. Two weeks ago Javier told Dr. Hertz that the first time he considered therapy was when his ex-girlfriend burst into tears after sex. It was that session she finally pushed to know who Andrea was, Javier spent the bulk of the session smiling. Hertz had been smiling too, last week Javier had been frowning again. He told her about Louisiana. He had beaten himself up repeatedly for the insecurity he placed in your heart, Dr. Hertz hadn’t agreed. She quite unprofessionally called him, an idiot, for being so unkind to himself. “It seems like you were a great person for her, not everyone gets the chance to truly understand their lover.” Javier disagreed, he explained the wedding and how he hadn't felt so detached from you until that moment in the yard.

“That was the last time we were really together as a couple. “

We never really got the chance to be a couple, huh.

Hertz nods, and Javier drops the pregnancy scandal on her like a small footnote in his story. 

ThenwesplitbecausemyexmanipulatedmeintobelievingIwasthefatherofherunbornchild. 

In one fast jumbled mess between cigarette pulls. Dr. Hertz had thrown her hands in the air, earning him a Javier…

Today he tells his story and it hurts bone deep. Today he couldn't escape the trauma he kept in the corner of his mind during the lonely years in Colombia. Javier pulls himself together, pushing his agony aside to lift his chin. Checking the clock. Five minutes. 

“I knew I would have to-I knew I hadn't had a choice. I knew some sort of modern couple co-parenting with step-parents would never fly. They’d send Lorraine and my baby off somewhere I would never find them. I mean, maybe it's different here in Colombia but I’m talking about bible belt American socialites, it was already a travesty to them that a hispanic man got their baby pregnant. I also knew my father would never speak to me again, he gave up everything to be my father. He lost his own wife while he tried to be the best for me, I knew this wouldn't kill her. I knew I wasn't right for her in any way. I caused so much mess in Andrea’s life, this was the only way to leave swiftly and make her hate me. It would be easier that way, if none of this happened she’d be home in Laredo burning for me. I already wasted too much of her life with my antics.” Fuck it, Javier’s cheeks were wet. He had been crying the second he opened his mouth. Rushing to say his peace until next week. 

He knows todays your birthday, but he wanted to keep something for himself. He wants to suffer that alone.

“It would hurt her but it wouldn't kill her. They knew I’d go away to Colombia anyway but at least she’ll be wed. I was set to be married two weeks later.”

[angeledeggs]

Hey! Xx can you please do a HC for the courtiers having a S/O that they’ve known since they were humans? Like the S/O probably became a demon In order to stay with them.

I sure can! Btw, this was SO fun to write<3!!

Valerius🍷:

He's so very touched to have you. He's self conscious and though most don't know it, you know after being with him for so long.

"Are you sure you still want me?" He'll whisper to you at night. "Don't you want something better than me?"

When he was younger, he would shrug away your touch and scoff at you. He dosent know how he managed to keep you. But now he doesn't. He finds one of his only stress relievers to be at night when you two cling to each other.

If you ever become a demon for him or do something supernatural to stay with him, he will definitely cry.

How could you still love him? How could someone as sweet and beautiful as you love a corrupt man such as himself?

It's not long before he asks you to marry him. He should have a long time ago. But he finds the matching wedding bands ease the ache in his heart often.

Vlastomil🐛:

He's very old. He can't remember how many generations he's lived through. How many people he's seen die. But you never do. And it's not long before he realizes what you've done.

He confronts you, begging for you to say that you haven't done anything wrong to extend your lifespan for him, but he takes one look at your eyes, and he knows.

He's so mad at first. Why did you have to stay with him? He didn't deserve you, anyway. You just had to commit yourself to him in such a way...

He sheds many tears in his office.

But one day he just can't handle distancing himself from you anymore. You're the love of his life-- he shouldn't have distanced himself from you at all, oh, he's so sorry.

He can barely explain his apology in between tears, but he gets the point across well enough when he fumbles with his own rings, when he messily slips one onto your fingers, when he drops to his knees before you.

Valdemar💉:

They never ask you how you live as long as them. They already know why. You're their beloved, and as long as you are happy, they are aswell.

At night they find themselves turn to your sleeping form and hesitate to touch you. Their fingers are claws, their skin is no longer it's natural shade, but green, they have horns. They do not deserve you. They deserve not even to gaze upon you. In their eyes, you are still the sweetest human in the world.

Only when you plead with them to finally hold you like they used to do they give in. They have missed your warmth in their cold, dead arms.

The very same night they finally hold you after so long, they blurt it out. "Marry me." They whisper. "What?" You manage. Valdemar's eyes are teary. They force your head to look away with a hand at your jaw. They tremble against your back, your form pressed against their chest. Their tears are cold against your hair. "Marry me." They repeat.

Your ring is made of iron and bone.

Volta🍰:

She's so touched that you've stayed by her side for so long. She dosent like to think of it, though. She feels a lingering dread in her belly when she does. Why, you're human, it's such a surprise you've lasted as long as her. She is a demon after all, the only way you could last as long as her is if you--

Oh, no. No. You shouldn't have done that at all, you shouldn't have become a demon just for her. Why would you do that?

She loves you more than anything, you're her darling, why would you do such a thing? She finds herself constantly crying at night, distraught even as you comfort her.

She can barely eat or talk to the other courtiers she's so upset, so angry at herself for not noticing and intervening sooner. She should have noticed! She should have noticed that you became a demon like her...

Two demons. She contemplates this for a long time. Two demons, together. A sudden thought strikes her.

She runs to you in the middle of the day. She trips over many things, but it's fine, she needed to do this on her knees anyway. She scrambles to your legs, still on her knees, and clasps your hands in her own, and declares her offer of marriage.

She has no ring for you. But she has a bangle on her wrist. And so that shall be your wedding ring.

Vulgora⚔️:

They would be happy forever if only besides you. They always told themself that. And it's so true. They love you so much, more than anyone, more than anything.

And they had always just assumed you were human like when you both met

They don't think much of you living as long as them, at first. They don't pay attention to many things, after all. And then one day, they're just looking at you when they realize, that, oh. That's why you lived so long. It's because you're like them.

They don't know what to think, they're kind of numb to it at first. How could they not notice?

They think of it for a long, long time. Such a long time. They are unusually quiet. And then one day they just embrace you so tight your back cracks, their muscles tight and tense.

Pressed in an embrace, they present to you their oldest sword, and they beg for your hand in marriage, to commit themselves to you as you had commit themselves to them.

❀

[lynnbeth5172]

Stitched Up Love iii

Another nightmare, it was always the same. When Aemond lost his eye, that time it was Jacaerys; he was the one who stabbed his eye out, most times in his dreams. His cousins and nephews took turns stabbing him, in one dream it was Rhaena, the next it was Baela…but it always ended with Lucerys.

His mother knew of the night terrors, when they started. She’d calm him when she heard his screams from his bedchamber, but as he got older and was able to stifle his cries. She hadn’t noticed that he still has the nightmares, he didn’t want to make her more tired than she already was, not when he could see the bags underneath her eyes or the skin around her fingers getting worse and bloodied.

He rubbed his eye and felt an ache coming, clenching his jaw and the blanket as the ache of his eye continued, breathing in deeply and breathing out as the pain slowly began to fade.

He got out of his bed and began putting on his riding leathers, then braiding his hair and pulling his eyepatch on. Planning to ride Vhagar to take out the bit of tension that the nightmare had on him. It made him feel free of the nightmares, free of his fathers neglect. 

In a few days it’ll be his father’s name day he mused on that thought, he knew that the king would have a feast to celebrate. As if he deserved any celebration for being a complete arse of a father. Aemond knew that his half sister will be there, his nephews and cousins will be there. That mere thought made his knuckles clench, Vhagar probably felt his tension so he yelled ‘Dohaeris’ as they were in the sky, eventually flying back to the dragon pit. 

“Ziry’ll sagon okay…”

He patted the elder dragon’s back and Vhagar snorted when he did that, Aemond smiled when she did that. After he claimed Vhagar and had healed properly enough from his eye injury; he visited the elderly dragon. He had felt slightly alone due to the preparations for Helaena and Aegon’s wedding, so he went to visit Vhagar in her cave. A book in hand as he read to the dragon in Valyrian, it was about the Doom of Valyria and talked about House Celtigar. Another family of Valyrian blood but rode no dragon or married a relative. The visits to Vhagar became more frequent as his siblings' wedding neared, with needing to sooth his sister’s panic attacks and having to hide the wine from Aegon, the dragon pit became a small sanctuary for him. A place to just take a rest from all the chaos of the wedding day, now it’ll be the name day of his father. Or rather the king.

“Rhaena won’t gūrogon ao…hen mēre hen rhaenyra’s letters, ziry emagon zȳhon own zaldrīzes bona hatched.”

He removed his glove with his teeth and folded them together, holding them together as he left the dragon pit. Eventually making it back to the Red Keep where the small preparations were being made ready, he looked at the tapestry on the walls, instead of the debaucheries of man and woman fucking. Before his niece and nephew were born, his mother changed the tapestries to show The Faith, Seven pointed stars sewn, though some of the imagery was disturbing; he supposed it was better than the original tapestries that were put on the wall.

Making it to his mother’s chamber, he opened the door. Being met with his mother giving his decaying father a bath, scrubbing the moldy skin with a gentle hand; through the trials and tribulations, Queen Alicent still had remained a beautiful woman, even with the light purple hue of bags under her eyes. As well as her tired look as she nodded along to her husband’s ramblings, as Aemond’s presence was announced, his mother’s gaze had gone to him and a small smile came to her face as he came closer to kiss his mother’s cheek. Not doing the same for his father.

“Good morning, mother…hope you had a restful sleep.” He gave a small nod and smile at his mother, not focusing on his father.

“Indeed I did, I hope you did too,” Queen Alicent looked back to Aemond’s father, he remembered when the mold and rot hadn’t been that bad. Now it had claimed half of his father’s ear, Aemond would’ve been lying if he hadn’t admitted that he found a small semblance of humor in his father’s ear decaying.

Soon he’ll be bone and no more.

“I saw the servants scurrying to get things ready…” Aemond hesitated but went on;

“When will Rhaenyra and her family be coming?” His mother probably saw him tense up again, she took his wrist and gently squeezed it for comfort.

“They’ll arrive in a few days, I’ve sent a raven to Rhaenyra but I haven’t gotten a reply,” she pressed her lips together and took in a breath, as if the princess not reading her letter made her slightly disappointed.

Aemond took his mother’s shoulder and squeezed it gently, any mention of the princess had the Queen slightly upset. When he asked his grandfather about why she gets upset by the mention of the princess, The hand would simply say that they were close.

The King's wheezing broke him out of his thoughts, repeatedly saying “Aemma”. When Aemond was younger he used to think that Aemma was his father’s sibling or a friend, that was until he asked the maester who Aemma was; the maester explained that she was the last wife of his father, his half sister’s mother. 

Now his father had taken to calling Aemond ‘Daemon’, which he remembered. Even if it was the rarest time of him being drunk, he vaguely remembered striking his father when he said that, making his father’s tooth fall.

Aemond stood but his hand remained on his mothers shoulder, wanting her to have a semblance of comfort. Leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead, that was when his father started coughing; his mother sighed like this was a common occurrence, it was.

“Aemond, fetch the maester…and maybe your grandfather.” He nodded and started walking towards the chamber door, only for it to open and be faced to faced with Isla, a basket in her hand and her chestnut hair in a braid that went down her shoulder. It suited her.

She seem to have peeked at what was happening since her smile faltered and she took a few steps back.

“I…Should I get the maesters?” Aemond fixed a reassuring smile onto his face.

“I’ll do it.” Then a thought occurred and he didn’t know why but he added: “Unless you’d like to join me to fetch the maester and my grandsire?” It seemed that the question was also unexpected by Isla as she raised her brow but nodded as he then offered her his arm to take. She hesitated but took his arm, her hand felt warm as they started walking together.

“Does this happen often?” He turned to her when she said that, her blue eyes were filled with curiosity, made him feel oddly warm inside. Though the question made him slightly uncomfortable, he hasn’t spoke to a lowborn like this, mostly polite curtesies. Most servants wouldn’t dare to ask these questions.

“Yes, mostly the coughing. The maesters make their daily round often…it feels like they sleep there.” He let a small smile come onto his face, Isla too had smiled a bit but her face went back to slightly serious.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this, my mother suffers from some sort of sickness so I understand.” Her gaze went back down as they made it to where the maester Mello was, her face becoming slightly more somber. As if the thought was painful. He didn’t mention that he didn’t care for his father, his father never cared when his eye was stolen. Why should Aemond care when his father may lose another limb?

He did feel bad for the girl, offering a smile to her. Deciding to change the subject.

“How long have you been a seamstress?” Her gaze went back up to him and she simply shrugged and looked forward as she spoke:

“My mother stitched clothes and other things to make ends meet, she tried teaching my sisters how to sew but only few of us understood how to.” She smiled a bit at the memory, it was a pleasant sight.

———————————————————————————————

After the two of them retrieved the maester, Isla brought the elder man back to his father’s chamber. He went to retrieve his grandfather, who was in his study, he brought him back to the king’s chamber. When he got there, the seamstress was gone and there was only a green dress on his mothers bed.

Aemond made it back to his own chamber to bathe and change into a tunic and jerkin, as well as britches. Eventually going to the playroom of his niece and nephew, where he was met with a grip around his leg, he looked down to see his nephew Jaehaerys , looking up at him like a happy puppy. It made him smile as he scooped Jaehaerys up and walked inside the nursery.

“Rytsas, byka Jae.” He crouched down to join his nephew on the floor as he looked up to see his sister with Maelor in her arms, that was when he noticed Aegon was also there.

“I heard father nearly died again, shame he didn’t.” His elder brother smiled gave a crooked smile and let Jaehaera do a braid in his hair.

“He didn’t.” Aemond was slightly stoic when he said that, contrast to his brothers amused look.

“And a damn shame he didn’t.” His crooked smile faltered slightly, they all wished their father was dead. He caused their mother pain and ignored them all in favor for their worthless bastard nephews.

“Blood will be in the water and there will be no undoing.” Helaena whispered that to babe Maelor as she bounced him up and down, Aegon ignored it but Aemond raised a curious brow to her, she gave him a small smile and he returned it.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took in a breath, it was a peaceful moment and he didn’t want to ruin it. His fathers cough attack was just a normal moment for him, it became normal. He wondered if Isla the seamstress would get used to it, if her mother had the same condition as his father then maybe she’d be used to it.

Though his father will still be alive…his only hope that his death will come soon. Even if chaos comes.

———————————————————————————————

Okay so…this took some time to write but I don’t mind this chapter tbh, some may not like it but I do so…<3

[filthy-mudeoki]

First snow

Like their first night in the snow, they makes wishes for each other. With their wedding around the corner, tonight’s snowfall is all the more special. 

Tagging: @kairadiamond Thank you for the prompt!! I had a lotta fun with this one!

Just be warned, it gets just a lil steamy at the end ... nothing too hectic.

Sang Zhi is under the covers, showered and comfortable, yet sleep evades her. Their pre-wedding party had come to an end some time ago. Her friends had whisked her away for the night, with the plans of pampering the bride come morning. Her stomach leaps with excitement at the thought that she’ll be getting married in only a matter of hours. 

But strangely enough, it’s not the excitement of her wedding that keeps her up now. It’s the thought of her groom that makes her worry. For the sake of propriety, Jiaxu was not staying at the same hotel as her. Still, it was only a five-minute drive, but it’s enough distance to leave her feeling slightly uneasy. She twists and turns and tries to talk herself out of it. 

She glances around the room and is blessed to see her friends fast asleep. Grabbing a pen and paper, she scribbles them a quick note. She doesn’t intend to stay out too late but she rather not altogether disappear on them. 

Sang Zhi is out the door and into the waiting taxi in no less than ten minutes. She’s had the same repetitive thought now and all it serves to do is make her sad. Because while her family have been in fully attendance tonight and all the days leading up to their wedding, Jiaxu has only had by his side, her and Sang Yan. 

She’s asked Jiaxu about the family he wanted to invite to their wedding and his answer broke her heart. 

“I … don’t have anyone to invite,” he told her. Sang Zhi noticed that he had looked a little embarrassed by that. “You’re my family, Zhizhi.” 

She had held him close that night. They had not spoken further on that for a while until she asked again, if there was no one he wanted to invite. In the end, Jiaxu settled for a few far lost distant relatives but he had made it a point to tell her that everyone he wanted at his wedding had already been invited. Sang Zhi thinks about her parents on the drive over to Jiaxu’s hotel. Their excitement and happiness has made every moment more memorable. Her heart aches, knowing that Jiaxu is without his parents today of all days. She can’t imagine not having her mǔqīn and fùqīn with her.  Ever since they bid each other goodnight, she’s worried about him going back to his hotel room alone. She knows he must be thinking of his mother today. They had flown back to Yihe two weeks ago, and left flowers at her grave. Jiaxu had been a little more morose on their way back, but she understood why.  

In the elevator, she pulls out her phone and calls his number. He answers on the second ring. 

“Wéi,” comes his soft answer. 

She hears it immediately in his voice. The soft heartbreak he’s been holding on to all night. She knows then that she’s made the right choice coming to him tonight. 

“Wéi, Jiaxu,” she replies. She looks up and sees the elevator almost glacially climbing to his floor. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Sang Zhi?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she tells him. 

“Why not?” 

She pauses for a beat, “Because you’re sad.” 

He chuckles softly, like he wants to laugh it off. But they both know she’s right. “I’m not,” he tells her nonetheless. 

“Jiaxu.” 

She hears him exhale into the phone, picturing him hunched over, alone in his hotel room. She silently urges the elevator to go faster. 

“Jiaxu,” she gently urges him, “it’s okay.” 

“I don’t want to be sad on our wedding day, Sang Zhi,” he admits. “I didn’t think it would hurt this much to not have them here. It’s been years now but …” 

‘They’re still your parents. You’re allowed to miss them as much as you want, whenever you want,” she tells him. 

“I know.” His answer is still too quiet for her liking. “It’s just today of all days, I’m feeling … it a little more.” 

He doesn’t need to clarify what the ‘it’ is. It is the absence of parents; it is a lifetime of loneliness that has only just been cured. It is the part of a family that he will never get back.

Jiaxu doesn’t get melancholy often and she knows their wedding has brought forth some of the things he didn’t even know he missed. But she wants to remind him, that despite it all, he is not alone. There will always be a family waiting for him on the other side and together they will honour, and miss and remember his parents. 

Duan Jiaxu is not without his family. 

“Didn’t I tell promise your māmā that you would not be alone anymore?” She asks him. Finally, the elevator climbs to his floor and it dings softly. She all but runs out, looking for his room. “Jiaxu?” 

“You did,” he answers slowly. 

“Are you not my family, Duan Jiaxu?” 

She hears the stocky intake of breath and knows he’s fighting back his tears now. “I am.” 

“We’ll miss them together. You’re not alone, Jiaxu,” she tells him. Holding the phone, a little tighter, she whispers, “It’s okay.” 

She’s standing before his door now and gives him a moment before she knocks. “It’s okay, Jiaxu,” she repeats as she knocks once more. 

She can hear the rustle of his clothes as he gets up. “One minute,” he says. “Someone is at the door.” 

Sang Zhi’s still got the phone to her ear, when he opens the door. His eyes are slightly red, his cheeks tinged with just the barest hue of pink. 

“Sang Zhi,” Jiaxu breathes out in surprise. Absently he cuts the call. “What are you doing here?” he asks as he leans out to look up and down the corridor. 

Before she can reply, he pulls her into the room. She kicks off her shoes as he guides her through the hotel room towards the couch. 

“Sang Zhi, what are you doing here so late? Did you come alone?” he asks worriedly. 

She smiles, reaching for him. He pauses and looks down at her. Sang Zhi’s fingers brush against his cheek and she can feel the dampness there. He doesn’t move away and she takes that as a good sign. 

“I told you. I couldn’t sleep. Not when I know you’re sad … and in pain.” 

“It’s not painful, really.” He tries to dissuade. 

“You’re missing your parents, Jiaxu. Anybody would feel the pain of their absence.” 

She is desperate that he understands this. So, she guides him to the couch, making him sit as she kneels before him. Her hands go to his face once more and this time, he closes his eyes, leaning into her touch. 

“No matter what, you’re not alone, Jiaxu. You have people that love you,” she tells him. “And your parents – your māmā and bàba will always be with us.” 

He pulls her closer, burying his face into the crook of her neck and she does nothing but hold him tighter. 

“Xièxiè Sang Zhi,” he finally says. He pulls back a little so he can look at her. Brushing aside some of her hair, he grasps her face in his warm hands, “for coming to me tonight. For knowing what I wanted even before I realised it myself.” His thumbs swipe across her cheeks as he speaks, “Xièxiè for making me a better man.” He tips her chin up, their lips the barest distance apart, “Xièxiè for loving me more than I deserve.” 

He steals whatever reply she might have with a soft kiss. He pulls her up and onto the couch beside him. He wraps his arm around her, tugging her closer and for the moment, they both sit quietly, watching the night sky. It’s a beautiful scene, she sees through the floor to ceiling window that his hotel room has. But it’s not the night sky she’s focused on, it’s their reflection in the glass. Huddled together on the couch, she can barely tell where he starts and she ends. 

“You know if you had been just a few minutes earlier, you’d have run into Sang Yan,” Jiaxu tells her. 

Sang Zhi smiles. She loves that her brother was there. That he probably guessed as much as she did that Jiaxu would be a little lonely tonight. 

“I’m just surprised he actually left. You know he’s been having difficulty lately, sharing you,” she quips and Jiaxu laughs. 

“He’s going to have to get used to it.” 

“Hmm.” 

She closes her eyes and she knows she’s never felt more at peace than in this moment. Jiaxu is gently playing with the ends of her hair. She can hear the gently rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her ear and if she’s not careful, it will be enough to lull her to sleep. 

“Zhizhi,” he finally says breaking the silence. 

She looks up at him, but he’s looking out the window. 

“It’s snowing.” 

She sits up immediately, looking excitedly out the window. She can see it too now. 

The first snowfall. 

She had been warned by a few people that having a wedding so close to winter would mean weather not ideally suited for a wedding, but the first snowfall had always been special to them. But she never actually thought she’d get the first snowfall on the eve of her wedding. It was almost too perfect. 

Without realising it, she’s standing before the window, watching the snowfall. She feels Jiaxu behind her as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her back so he can rest his chin on her shoulder. 

“I remember our first snowfall,” he tells her. “I was already in love with you and didn’t even know it.” Sang Zhi smiles as he continues speaking. “I am grateful for many things, but that first snowfall … that’s something special.” 

“It was.” She agrees. Looking at their reflection in the window, she catches his eye, “Want to make a wish? All wishes made on the first snowfall come true.” 

Unexpectedly, he frowns a little, “I don’t know what more I could wish for. I have everything right here.”  

There’s a warmth rushing up her cheeks but she insists. “One wish Jiaxu.” 

“Fine. One wish.” Without moving away from her, he brings his hands together at her front, like a prayer and closes his eyes. She watches him, still in the reflection and she’s tempted to ask what he wishes for. 

She knows what she wants. 

Him. Them. Together, healthy and happy for all the years to come. 

So, she closes her eyes and places her hands over his as she makes her wish. When she opens her eyes again, he’s already looking at her. Intently, and with deep seeded desire. She knows that look, feels it to the very depths of her bones and it always sets her alight. 

“What did you wish for?” he asks. He turns over their hands, intertwining their fingers. 

“I can’t tell you that, it won’t come true,” she teases. He pouts slightly and she chuckles. “What did you wish for?” 

“You,” he whispers as he kisses her cheek. 

 “You didn’t have to wish for that. You already have me.” 

He places another kiss to her cheek but he doesn’t move away. His lips move slowly down and Sang Zhi moves to give him a little more room. 

“I wished for you to be happy, always,” he murmurs against her flushed skin. 

“That won’t be too hard, not if you’re with me,” Sang Zhi says. “Right?” 

“Right.” He shifts her a little so he can look at her more clearly. 

She knows what he’s going to say, but she needs him to hear it first. “Wǒ ài nǐ, Jiaxu,” Sang Zhi says. It’s a soft declaration but it echoes beautifully in the quiet of their hotel room. “From our first snowfall to our last, I will always love you.”

 He grasps her face gently in his hands, pushing back her hair as he leans in closer.  

“Wǒ ài nǐ, Zhizhi.”  

He doesn’t let her say anything more, gently tipping her chin up so he can kiss her. It’s a soft kiss but when his fingers find purchase in her hair, as he pulls her closer with his other hand, it sets her heart racing. She pushes up against him a little more urgently.  

She’s breathless when they pull apart. Her fingers have twisted the fabric of his sweatshirt and she’s not ready to let go.  

His fingers are caressing her cheeks and she leans into his touch. Looking up, to meet his eyes, she’s fallen in love all over again.  

There’s a small mischievous little smile that is playing on his lips and she can’t help the breathy little chuckle that escapes her.  He teasingly raises a brow and she loops her arms around his neck.  

“I can’t stay,” she murmurs as he kisses down her neck once more.  

“Hhmm,” comes his response.  

She loses all coherent thought when he hoists her up. Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist. He holds her against him as if she weighs nothing. She giggles when he walks them into the bedroom and there is no argument to heard from either of them then. She impatiently tugs at his shirt and he drops her onto the bed, quickly pulling it off himself. Sang Zhi is all breathy little moans when Jiaxu comes back down to kiss her.

It’s the first snowfall with her first love on her final night before she becomes his wife. Sang Zhi could not have asked for a more perfect end.

mǔqīn - mother

fùqīn – father

Wéi – hi

Xièxiè – thank you

Wǒ ài nǐ – I love you

[livingincolorsagain]

a’s sambucky master-list 2022:

(or mostly sambucky for the exception of exactly two ficlets which are gonna be added at the very end of this list)

ao3:

but baby i'm a fool for you

After several attempts at getting back in the dating game, Bucky bites the bullet and asks Sam for dating advice. Chaos ensues.

(Or, Bucky and Sam are dating, and they're the last to find out about it.)

(and to feel in the night) the nearness of you

Bucky stopped and let Sam’s feet touch the ground. “I’d never let you get hurt, sweetheart,” he said, too earnestly, and Sam looked at him, his wet hair sticking to face, his eyes that were as dark now as the midnight sky above them, big and sincere, full of love he never shied away from putting into words.

“I know,” Sam said, because he did. Some things would always remain certain; and like the sun rising and setting everyday, Bucky’s love would always remain real and undeniable.

You're my Calling (Cure my Longing)

Sam turns mid-sentence, gesturing ferociously at Bucky. The couple he’s talking to has big smiles that get bigger as he goes on, turning his back away from Bucky, talking with his whole body.

Bucky frowns and downs the last of his beer, debating if he should go over and join the conversation that’s obviously about him or if he should stay where he is, by the sidelines, watching from far away and–

Then Carlos is passing him and saying, “Congratulations, Bucky. Took y’all long enough,” and Bucky pauses, bewildered into stillness, but Carlos is gone before Bucky has the chance to ask what in the world he’s talking about.

the physical intimacy series:

i replay every embrace (just for a trace of you)

Every touch means something. Means everything.

and you touch me (and i'm like)

They both have their scars.

Some of them are marring their skin, touchable; a physical reminder of things they can never forget.

Others have left no trace.

But every scar has a story, Sam knows, even the ones you can’t touch.

When Riley fell, Sam wasn’t injured.

Like Heaven to Touch

The song ends and another starts. Sam half-turns toward the dancefloor at the first tone, the wine glass forgotten in his hand. He gets a look in his eyes as Frank Sinatra’s voice starts to fill the spacious room.

You're just too good to be true

Can't take my eyes off of you

Bucky watches him for a moment; the look in his eyes is one of aching longing and wistfulness, as if the music has taken him to a different time and place. The look grows unbearably sad, so without thinking, Bucky asks, “Wanna dance?”

all that we do (we do for love) series:

(favorite choices)

(Bucky, Sam and the long, rocky road to parenthood.)

Baby Talks

Sam was just about done drying himself when he heard the giggles. Just like every other time, his heart bloomed, a love so tremendous and uncontainable filling his chest.

and i play it on repeat (until i fall asleep) co-written with @saryasy

“And for my last question, what’s next for you? Cap, you want to go first?”

Sam’s answer to this question has stayed the same throughout the day. He’s going to keep doing what he does best, fighting the good fight, protecting the people, and giving help to those who need it.

The thing is, all day, no one has asked Bucky what’s next for him. So, even though the way she worded it implied she’s asking Bucky next, Bucky’s completely blindsided when she turns to him and says, “What about you, Sergeant?”

There’s a long pause, Bucky’s mind blanking. He must have stared too long at the interviewer because Sam subtly nudges him.

So, without giving it much thought, Bucky says, “I’m gonna keep doing what I do best, watching Cap’s six and being an unpredictable, unstable human being.”

“That’s quite hot.”

must’ve been a deadly kiss (only love can hurt like this)

Sam imagined wedding planning was already stressful enough without fighting bad guys on a regular basis.

As it was, Sam was Captain America, and he had a job to do.

He also had a very disgruntled fiancé who followed him wherever he went.

romantic stylez (with a z)

“Oh, no.” Sam says, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s and leaning closer to him. “Tonight is very special for us. Y’see, James and I just got engaged and this is where we had our very first date.”

“Yeah,” Bucky picks up. “I’d’ve booked a table but I wasn’t sure he was going to say yes.”

“Aww, baby,” Sam says, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I was always going to say yes, you only ever had to ask.”

Bucky’s heart stutters in his chest as he meets Sam’s eyes, and he loses himself in the deep brown and the long, curled lashes just a little, only looking away when he hears the lady sighs sappily next to them.

(or, an undercover mission changes everything.)

Rough Surfaces

There was an inherent loneliness to being Captain America.

And it wasn’t like Sam had never been lonely before. He'd been lonely, he’d been alone, and he’d been lonely and alone, but there was something about this, a feeling so old he was surprised he could still feel it; that it still affected him.

That hollow silence that was once filled with the sound of life.

Figaro meowed and Alpine didn’t answer, and for a split second, Sam forgot. He panicked.

Then he remembered, and it weighed him down, an ache so deep it felt engraved into his very being.

And really, it was fine. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do this alone, he could, but.

He didn’t want to.

Mostly, he had started to believe he wouldn’t have to.

tumblr:

nightfall

one chance, tender, savior (and check out the steering wheel flower arrangement by @elektraking)

pet

bruised/kissed

you’re distracting

delicious/mystery

shimmer

transparent

mornings and nights (samstevebucky)

in dreams (samriley)

[mariposa666haruka]

The first smut I am uploading wooow

Pairing: Top!Vincent Phantomhive x Bottom!Undertaker

It is vanilla but lots of teasing and dirty talk haha

I actually wrote this for a darling friend of mine. Hehe

The howling of the wind was not the only thing that could be heard at the famous funeral parlor of London. One would assume it was another mourning family who had just lost a beloved of theirs and was making preparations to hold an appropriate funeral. But the sign on the door read "Closed" so there possibly couldn't be a customer inside. Knowing the owner, many could have said that there was a torture session going inside,

And not the owner actually crying..Why would the always so joyful Undertaker possibly cry for? He always made a point that he was quite carefree.

Not a single soul knew that he was in the woe of love; bottles already emptied of liquor lied on the cold stone floor and crys soon turned to sniffs, although tears went on flowing down his green iris eyes and as if they were hot burning lava he kept wiping them away with his long black sleeves.

"How unfortunate that the laughter....has disappeared" Weirdly enough his voice was not stained with the misery lingering in his eyes. He knew it was already time for him to pick himself up and put his mask back on, but his not-beating heart still ached, making him allow his old soul a longer time of living his sadness.

Grabbing his favorite buddy, the skull that always lied silently on his desk, he mumbled "Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it has stopped beating?" The skull reminded silent of course. How unexpected.

In the streets however, things were not so silent, fast footsteps running mindfully towards their destination. Their owner passed many people, but of course no one was going to recognize him despite his popular looks; after all why would The Earl Phantomhive be doing running in the streets at such day, it was his wedding day after all, he was probably just a relative, or at least that is how people convinced themselves in their simple minds.

The "Closed" sign was the last thing that could stop him at this moment, opening the door he barged inside, only to be met with the sight of his darling in tears.

"Oh, Undie-" "OUT"

His darling shut him up.

He could not help but chuckle, he deserved a hard slap for that, but he did not mind it as he rushed to his side, brining him into his arms.

"Didn't you hear me you primitive poor excuse of a man? You even have the audacity to let your laughter echo among these walls when I am here....." Vincent kept holding him no matter how hard he pushed him away, holding the back of his head, he brought his face into his chest.

"When I am here... being pathetic over someone like you-" The primitive poor excuse of a man shut him up, devouring his mouth as if he had been starved for ages.

"Vince-" The Undertaker had the enough power to throw him flat against the wall, but his hands disagreed for some reason.

Earl pulled back once he felt his darling relaxing in his arms. "My sweet death... would you slap me if I say you are being dramatic right now?" His voice had a touch of amusement.

"I would clear your very existence" His darling however, sounded quite serious, no matter how unusual was that.

Vincent chuckled again before kissing his tear-stained eyes, and brought his hand up to his chest, so he could feel his heartbeat, "This very heart belongs to you, my soul is yours to take and my mind would only be filled with the thoughts of you." Undertaker did not like how he knew that his lover was not lying. He infact, wanted him to lie, so he could shut his pain away, convincing himself that he was not his to have.

But looking up at his blue eyes that glowed like a clear pond under the moonlight, filled with a liquid called 'honesty' , he knew it was never his fault. He had proved his feelings many times, one of them being today, leaving his new wed bride behind for him.

The Undertaker's fingers, fiddled with his lover's buttons, wanting to bury his face into his neck. Vincent allowed him of course, letting him go as far as nibbling and bitting on his skin. He knew exactly what his darling was doing, he wanted to show that woman the he could never belong to her. She could never own him.

Vincent Phantomhive only was his to have. That woman may own his last name, or the title of his spouse, but his heart could never be hers. A side of him called his possessiveness pathetic, but he was not going to care about it at that moment. He did not mind being 'pathetic' in front of his lover, his oh so sweet and gentle lover that could never see him as anything but precious.

Picking him up easily, Vincent pinned him against the desk, right next to his skull buddy, returning all the love bites he had left on his neck and shoulders. Removing the attire off of his petite body was not hard, he took his time with it though, caressing every inch of skin with affection, giving his butt cheeks squeezes as his mouth worked on his hard nipples.

"What is wrong Undie? Not making much of sound today? You know how I love hearing you." Vincent playfully pulled on his now sensitive buds with his teeth, finally making him whimper slightly.

"That is it darling, do not forbid me of hearing you." He went on with his teasing, smirking when he moaned loudly as his fingers stretched his hole.

"You currently do not even deserve....mmhah... touching me.." Of course The Undertaker was too prideful to admit how he had forgiven him so easily, not that Vincent did not know.

"Should I be touching Rachel instead of my darl-"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT" It was high pitched scream at this point as the fingers inside of him had pressed his sweet spot.

The Earl had this annoying habit of laughing when his darling was being cute like this. He took his teasing further by rubbing his tip against his entrance. He clearly wanted to hear him ask for it.

"Put it in already, you wretched vermin" Undertaker had never sounded so desperate before, his usually pale face now flushed as he looked upon his lover.

Vincent felt his heart squeeze itself at the sight before him, he pulled him up into his embrace once more. "You know the rules Undie, mouth open, tongue out." His smug smirk could be mistaken for one of a devil's.

And so he obeyed, not putting up a fight like he always did. He panted as he opened his mouth, and the second his tongue was out, Vincent had his mouth over it. Sucking on his tongue definitely was one of his favorite intimate activities, but now he wanted to hear him scream as he did so.

Holding on his butt cheeks, Vincent pushed his length inside him, his darling letting out a loud muffled scream as his tongue was being held captive. Vincent wanted to keep tormenting him further by the slow pace he was having, but The Earl himself was being impatient at this point.

Undertaker's moans got louder the second Vincent let go of his tongue, only to go back to his neck.

"Vincent...mahh I am...close ..go slower" his lover did the exact opposite. "VINCENT" His lover only laughed. "Undie darling, hahaha you have to see your expression right now... that alone is bringing me to my edge." He lovingly smooched his lips, his cock twitching inside of him. "You know I am close too.. not that we are going to stop anytime soon I have to...mahhahaha, you just squeezed me so hard...are you happy to hear that...we will go longer than usual?"

"Why don't you try...ngghh shutting up for once?" And Vincent did as he said, bringing his mouth to his, moving his hips faster, enjoying the feeling of him moaning into his mouth as they both orgasmed together.

The pair did not stop at one round, Vincent stopped counting at some point, he was determined to give his darling the wedding night he deserved. Oh he wanted to actually marry him for real, instead of a noble woman whose only purpose was to give him a heir.

He held his sleeping darling against himself, holding onto him tightly, his fingers caressing his back and drawing hearts here and there; as both of the laid inside one of the bigger coffins, the lid off of course.

"Well it cannot be helped, guess I just can enjoy the moment I have with you."