#like. the CLEAR pleasure in their voices whenever they said the names of the victim or the guy who killed him

[starbuck]

i don’t understand people who get sick pleasure from recounting tragedies, i really don’t

[jolenes-doppelganger]

hiii!! i just read your works about ilsa and rose. could you possibly write about lady jessica x fem! corrino reader? where they meet at the final scene of the movie…

xx

[Hi Anon! Thank you for the request. I had some fun ideas with this one, enjoy. :3]

Phantom Frequency

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Corrino Reader

Summary: Following the overthrow of House Corrino’s monarchy, few things are certain. The Bene Gesserit’s power over the throne, political stability and spice production seem to be uncertain, but on a more personal level, the Corrino household can only fear for their lives. But not all is lost for the two eldest daughters of the former Emperor Shaddam. With Irulan married to Paul and the Reader secured as her primary advisor, a third party strikes a bargain to maintain her security.

Warnings: Drugging, abduction, dub-con ‘arrangement’, dub-con medical examination, Jessica being Jessica

A/N: I know I said this might have been spicy… So I hope you’re hungry! For nothing.

Word Count: 2.8k

You’d heard the whispers before you stepped foot off of the ship onto Arrakis. You were the middle Corrino princess. Your sister, Irulan, deciphered truth, your younger sister wielded the Voice, and you had mastered complete control over your body. Each of you played a key role in the Corrino household. Irulan and your younger sister Addsham played direct roles in controlling the affairs of the household. You held a different purpose. While the two of them occupied the Bene Gesserit with their development and tasks, you lay in the shadows, collecting information and rumors out of the mouths of those around you with uncanny accuracy. But the whispers hadn’t helped you to prepare for the direct interest of the Reverend Mother Atreides.

“Abomination!” the sisters of the Bene Gesserit cried, all momentarily caught up in hysterics as Paul Atreides commanded Reverend Mohiam to silence.

The Fremen warriors stood clustered around the Muad’Dib, the Lisan al Gaib of their fables. But from your perspective, they were really clustered around her. Of all the people she could have fixed her eyes upon, she’d chosen you. Not your frightened sister Irulan, not the pale face of your father, Emperor Shaddam, but you. Small, unassuming, clustered and partially veiled amidst the throng of Bene Gesserit sisters. Quiet, resolutely collected and observant. Jessica Atreides had picked you to focus on. Why?

“... All these years, and I have the pleasure of finally meeting Lady Anirul’s successor.” a voice squirmed through your head. “You don’t carry her name, or her features like your older sister, but you do have her eyes, and her bearing.”

Jessica’s blue eyes bore into yours as the voice drew uncomfortable waves through your ears. You weren’t really hearing her voice. Her lips were barely moving… This was the Voice. Jessica was using some ventriloquy variant of the Voice to talk to you, and you alone.

“How?” you whispered, your brief murmur coming out like a soft gasp, indiscernible from the rest of the Bene Gesserit gasps.

“When you’re my pupil, I’ll teach you.” Jessica eerily stared, eyes sliding off of you and back onto whoever her next victim would be.

<——————->

Paul Atreides had won. The way Irulan clutched your arm as you exited into the safety of the Emperor’s ship made that clear. You’d watched your father kiss the ring of the boy warrior in a haze of disbelief and fear, your emotions scrambled alongside that of the women surrounding you. Walking into Irulan’s private chambers aboard the ship was like walking behind a stage curtain. She broke down, clutching at your shoulders, burying her face in your neck and sobbing.

“No, I can’t do it.” Irulan cried, chest heaving and voice cracking. “I can’t do it (Reader), I can’t face him again. Or his mother.”

You were numb. The kind of numb that slid into your bones whenever trouble struck. It left you with a clarity that was always sort of peculiar; an emotionless outlook on the problems you faced, the ability to tackle dilemmas with the unfeeling scalpel of logical next steps rather than the blunt phalanges of emotional wallowing. You cupped your sister’s head, resting your foreheads together.

“Who said you have to face him right now? No, you have time. You get three days to sob and sit in your self-pity, behind closed doors naturally, but then you will not cry any longer.” you found yourself instructing.

“I hate him.” Irulan whispered. “I fucking hate him.”

The very concept of Irulan swearing was a bit funny. She didn’t use these words. You’d doubted if she ever had them in her vocabulary.

“I believe it was you who held me against the bathroom wall and scrubbed my tongue with soap when I used those words.” you joked.

Irulan let out a tearful laugh, wiping her eyes and nodding.

“Sorry. You were twelve. And someone could have heard you.”

You nodded. It was a funny memory in hindsight. It had caused no lasting harm, quite unlike the predicament Irulan faced. All of the potential marital arrangements she’d been discerning for years, all of the suitors with varying levels of financial and diplomatic aptitude stripped from her in one fell swoop. She’d been damned to a sandpit with the worms and the Fremen. No respite from the Bene Gesserit would be given. No safety net should things go awry.

“I’m staying with you.”

“No.” Irulan shook her head. “What about Daddy?”

“Daddy has Addsham. You have no one. You need my skills, you need my council. You need someone to bear the burden with you.” you said, clutching your sister’s hands. “I’m not asking. I will stay. And you will not be alone.”

Irulan’s eyes filled with tears all over again, and so did your eyes. But you didn’t let them fall. You’d never cried since the night your mother had died. Now would not be the day the six year dam broke. An attendant broke you away from your sister, urgently vibrating in the way most servants did when they carried important news.

“The Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides requests your presence in meeting room six.”

No time was given. It was a direct order. Veiling yourself once more, you walked towards the specified meeting room.

<——————->

The room was empty. To your eyes, at least. A cup of tea, a Gom Jabbar needle. A test of some sort, or perhaps a warning. You kept your distance from the objects, breathing in the smell of stale incense. A large tapestry hung from the wall, a beloved favorite of yours. Lady Anirul seated alongside a younger Emperor Shaddam. Three little girls that bore varying ratios of similarity to the two parents. You smiled, observing your family. Something was off, however. You knew something about it was off. It wasn’t Emperor Shaddam, or any of the three little princesses, it was your mother, Lady Anirul. Was it her hands? No. The neck… Not that either. Her face was odd. Maybe it was seeing her countenance in the format of the tapestry. Maybe it was just seeing her again. But the more you looked, the more you realized that it was her face. All blended together, all seamlessly woven, except for the life-like eyes. The blue, glistening, life-like eyes of someone that was not your mother, that had never been your-

Hands sprung out from the tapestry, encircling your neck and pushing you backward into the table. The slits of the tapestry, the slits in your mother’s eyes went blank, and the face that replaced your mother’s sent chills up your spine.

“Let this be your first lesson.” Mother Jessica whispered, grip tight over your windpipe. “When the gut screams that something is wrong, you listen.”

She released your neck, and the fright combined with the released pressure on your airpipe made you dizzy. You slid to the floor, head spinning in shock and fear. Tears collected in your eyes, and your hands shook. All of these reactions were without your consent, and you couldn’t gather the necessary strength needed to reverse these processes, to engage the parasympathetic nervous system to undo the shock of the deceitfully devised strangulation attempt.

“Oh, child.” Jessica scoffed. “You grow too comfortable in your house.”

“You cut out my mother’s eyes!” you found yourself whimpering, like a scared child.

Jessica laughed at this, a cruel sound mixed with a certain degree of disdain.

“You have thirty seconds to collect yourself.” she ordered.

You found yourself rising, turning away from her to collect yourself. You stopped breathing like a hysterical adolescent, instead forcing slow breaths in through your nose. You gripped the edge of the table, righting the dam against your conflicting emotions. Then you turned, making eye-contact with the woman behind them all.

“I am not a traditional mentor. Your mother never was, hence why she was never allowed to mentor another following me.” Jessica coldly recounted. “But she taught me more in six months than the rest of them did in sixteen years. Still, she teaches me. From beyond the grave she sends me lessons, ones that hurt to learn. And now, she’s sent me you. The middle child, the forgotten one, the little rebel that bides her time in the shadows. You.”

Jessica adjusted her loose veil, grabbing the Gom Jabbar needle.

“What would this be used for?”

“The Gom Jabbar test. I passed it at fourteen.”

Jessica nodded, setting the needle down. But then she fixed her piercing gaze on you once more.

“But that’s not the only way you know it.”

Anger flashed through your veins. How dare she!

“My mother was a strong woman, she was sick. And no one helped her, so don’t you dare throw her death in my face-”

“Silence.”

Your teeth clacked shut, clipping your tongue in the process. The taste of iron filled your mouth

“Did your mother kill herself with the Gom Jabbar or not?”

You reached behind you, gripping the table with ferocious intensity, channeling the rising tide of emotions into another action other than crying.

“She did.” you croaked out, breathing in through your nose so fast the air whistled.

Jessica nodded, picking up the cup of tea. It was still hot, you noticed. A product of the heat conducting coil at the base of the cup.

“Do you know what this tea is?” Jessica asked, a rhetorical question. “It was the only thing found in your mother’s system following the autopsy. And you’re going to drink it.”

You screwed your eyes shut, silently praying to any higher power that would dare listen to make this nightmare stop. But then you opened them, not allowing yourself to succumb to despair.

“Take it. Before I make you.”

The cup was hot in your hands. The liquid a murky brown. It was a derivative of spice, notes of chamomile and citrus laced in with the pungent scent of spice. You swallowed down the beverage, doing so with mechanical detachment.

“Close your eyes.” Jessica murmured, taking the cup from you.

Her fingers grazed your with startling gentleness. It was a tad bit sensual, but perhaps you were making that bit up.

“Feel.”

The pregnant bump of Jessica brushed against your stomach, her hands resting on your lower face. Her nose brushed yours, a brief motion. Then her lips rested on your left ear, her breath tickling the hollow cavern of your ear canal.

“Your mother drank a spice cocktail, a depressant based blend to promote bliss and a sense of euphoria. She died happy.”

It was too much for you to bear, and in between the soft caresses of her hands, in between the stress of the last twelve hours, in between all of the emotional heartache you’d experienced, a sad, neglected child sat crouched in a corner, wondering where her mother went. You broke down, hands fisted in the Reverend Mother’s robes as she collected every stray tear you cried with her lips, collecting the water of your body and storing it in hers.

<—————->

Distant voices blurred together the longer you were in that room. You called it ‘that room’ because you were unsure of where it was. Your routine was set. When you came out of the drug coma, you were fed and given water, and then the bitter drink was administered. As you came out of the coma again, more voices were clear.

“Leave me with her.” a raspy voice.

“But Reverend Mother, you gave birth only three days ago-”

“Leave me.”

The voice. Quick footsteps, silence. Hands encircled your face, sweet smelling breath ghosting over your nose.

“I’ve had you inspected.” she murmured. “You are in perfect health, fertile and strong. A strong vessel, this is important.”

You opened your eyes, meeting the tired, slightly bloodshot eyes of the Reverend Mother.

“I cannot teach someone weak. I will not teach someone weak. But you are not weak, daughter of Anirul. No, you are good stock.”

Her hands crept over you, exposing your skin, pulling off your robe.

“Still… I do not necessarily trust the Imperial physicians I had brought to you. I need to see for myself.”

Jessica started at your lymph nodes in your neck, checking pulse, fingers prodding the skin. She pressed over your belly button, your appendix, watching your face for signs of discomfort. Her touch slid down to your feet, your ankles. She carefully checked all the joints of your arms and legs, paying special attention to your hips.

“Strong body, good heart, your lungs sound clear and full. But are you suitable for breeding?” Jessica asked herself.

Both of her hands encircled your breasts, probing and caressing, checking for any potential defects.

“Not as vessel filled as they should be. You need more blood flow to the glands. Daily massages should help with that.”

It was humiliating, being touched so callously. It was medical, sure. And the Reverend Mother was a sister of the Bene Gesserit, but this was hardly protocol.

“The womb…”

Her hands slid down to your pubic area, probing and prodding just above the pubic bone. She did this for sometime, more carefully examining this area than anywhere else.

“It’s safe to say that you are fertile. Not as fertile as you should be, however. Estrogen rich foods, daily boric acid suppositories to help with pH balance… Yes, most certainly.”

Jessica gripped your thighs without warning, pulling them apart, exposing your vulva to her view. It was a quick look, she merely skimmed over you with her gaze.

“Aesthetically pleasing. Hmm.”

The Reverend Mother dropped her grip, tying the robe over you once more. To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Humiliation, confusion and flattery all brewed together in a jumbled mix, and you found that every possible response you had to the examination dried up in your throat.

“What?” Jessica smirked bemusedly. “You are very aesthetically pleasing, not just there, but everywhere.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows felt like the only correct de-escalatory measure. Tightening the robe over you felt necessary, covering yourself from her gaze. Jessica eyed you carefully, her hands cupping your cheeks and jaw.

“Let me make one thing clear. I do not explain my methods. I will not explain my methods. Once the desired outcome is made, there will be no room for discussion over my methods. I am the teacher, you are the pupil. Criticism will not be tolerated, neither will disobedience.”

A thousand questions raced through your head. Who had given her this authority over you? Why had she drugged you? How long had you stayed in a timeless state of unconscious bliss while the world worked around you? What if Irulan had needed your help while you were gone? What if your father had left with the rest of the Bene Gesserit, and you’d never gotten to say goodbye?

“I have questions.” you rasped, voice crackly and hoarse from not speaking for several days.

“I don’t have the patience to answer them. The only thing you need to know at this point is that you are not permitted to leave my side without my consent. That means you eat with me, you attend all meetings alongside me, you tend to my affairs when instruction is given and you sit quietly when I have nothing for you.” Jessica listed, getting closer, cupping your face more forcefully. “You sleep alongside me, you dress alongside me, and you most certainly do not hide yourself from me.”

Jessica slid a hand down your back, her other hand gripping the back of your head. Her lips pressed right against her ear, wet, hot air tickling at the sensitive flesh.

“And what we do when it is just us, what we do in those quiet hours once I am healed from labor, that you will never speak of.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide and troubled. Was she… Propositioning you for sex? Was this even a proposition or just a straight up demand. You wanted to open your mouth to protest, but Jessica was faster.

“Get up.” Jessica said, exerting control over you using the Voice.

Your body obeyed unwillingly, standing before her.

“Kneel.”

Your knees buckled, and her hands were quick to jerk your face up, glaring at you with intent.

“Never, ever attempt to speak without being spoken to again. Especially to tell me what I can and cannot do. Arrakis is under Emperor Paul’s jurisdiction now. What I do to ensure House Corrino remains subjected will be none of his concern.”

The fire in her eyes died down, replaced by a soft amusement.

“It won’t be bad, dear. None of it will be bad. You won’t ever worry about being forced into a diplomatic marriage without good warning. And if you do well, if you are a good student, I will have very little incentive to send you away.”

Jessica finished her lecture, amusing herself with the soft baby hairs that clung to your forehead.

“And from now on,” she continued, voice soft, “You call me Jessica.”

[darkwaveho]

Favors

Summary: You get multiple surprises in one day.

Parings: Stoner!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: 18+, Stalking, harassment, cursing, suggestive content, Jealousy, groping,

Part 4 | Part 6|

The events of last night weighed heavily on you all morning. You barely slept last night and you were not in the mood for anything, or anyone especially when you get to your film class and find someone sitting in your unassigned assigned seat. you decide against confronting them about the seat, at least right away. As soon as you sit down and pull your laptop out the faint smell and that hypnotizing accent sends chills down your spine. 

“You know it’s not polite to leave someone wet and needy on top of a car, right? Not only do we need to work on your manners but aftercare as well hm?” She spoke the truth after you left her, she craved more of you she didn’t even stick around for the party too long after. In search on relief, she went back to her room and came several times while she still had the fresh memory of you on her brain. you quickly turn your head in her direction with a shocked expression. What was she doing here? How did she even know what class you were in?  

“How do you even know where my class is?” you ask with a hint of anger.

“I have my ways dekta.” you only stare at her annoyingly before she speaks again. You let silence through the atmosphere as she inches closer to you in your seat. “How about we continue what we started in the garage?” you laugh. “What we started? I’m pretty sure it’s finished.” You lower your voice. maybe you can play with her bit more. you did have fun last night seeing her easily submit to you. “I’m pretty sure you finished too.” Wanda moans with a joyful smile plastered on her face. “I know I said this before.” She slides her hand up your leg while you slap her hands away giving her a warning glare. “But I love your mouth.” Her breath faintly hits the shell of your ear. “I haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing it the way I want though, maybe we can change that?” You feel her fingers lightly tug on the zipper on your jeans.

A loud voice rings through the room startling you out of your trance Wanda placed on you. “Miss Maximoff, I do not believe you are on my listing for this course, Is there a reason why you’re here in my class?”

Wanda clears her throat and turns to the professor. “I’m not on your listing professor, that’s why I’m here to get a feel.” She squeezes your leg. “On if I want to enlist in this course, I absolutely love film.” He hums in acknowledgment. “Yes, that’s all fine and good but until I see your name on my list you cannot be in my class. I’m going to have to ask you to leave Miss Maximoff.” Wanda clenches her jaw and narrows her eyes at the man who does he think he is? When Wanda moves too slow for the professors liking he raises his voice. “Now.” Oh yeah, she was definitely going to get him for this. “I’ll see you later baby.” she says lowly.

“No, you won’t.” you quickly reply back to her.

 “You’re cute.” She smiles before picking up her bag and walking down the stairs to stand in front of the professor’s desk. she stares him down on her way out of the room. She wonders if he normally has a stick up his ass but then she remembers how pathetic his wife would sound whenever she needed Wanda to fuck her because he couldn’t get the job done. He definitely needs to be put in his place if Wanda wasn’t taken by you already, she would surely fuck his wife again in retaliation and leave a few items behind on purpose but not anything that would link her to the affair.

“What’s up with you and Maximoff now? It’s like every time I see you, she’s there.” you sigh while rubbing your tired eyes. “I guess she has me on her list now.” Daisy studies you silently. “You’re not going to give in to her right? she treats them like whores after she’s done having fun with them.” You really wish you could tell daisy that you weren’t going to fall victim to Wanda. it’s no use in lying, you’re obviously attracted to her even if she’s pushy and obnoxious all the time. “I know daze, trust me I’m not the one seeking her out.” Her jaw drops from your response. “Wait run that back, she came to you?” You nod your head with a curious gaze. 

That’s never happened before, Wanda never had to chase anyone before so she must really want you. “But don’t worry I’m trying to avoid her I’d rather not deal with her baggage.” Daisy doesn’t want that to happen. She doesn’t want you getting hurt, you’re to kindhearted to be with Wanda anyway you deserve someone better someone that matches your same energy. someone like Daisy. “Good.” She says with much more confidence than she had before. you raise your eyebrows at her which has her quickly rephrasing her words.  “I just don’t want you getting hurt. I’d have to kick her ass.” As you chuckle at her protectiveness; she playfully nudges your shoulder while the professor signals for the class to quiet down. “You have nothing to worry about.” you say as the light dim down.

After film class was over you and Daisy decided to head to the cafe for a moment, this was your favorite spot. you only really came here with daisy to unwind and chill. the two of you order your usuals and sit at your favorite table all the while exchanging different theories and opinions about the movie you two watched in film class this morning. after a while Daisy says her goodbye as she gathers her bag her coding class was all the way on the other side of the campus, and she couldn’t be late again. “I’ll catch you later Y/n.” 

you smile at her as you look up from your laptop. “See you later Daze.” You should really be more aware of your surroundings Wanda thought as she’s been sitting here in the cafe just watching you and Daisy for the past 30 minutes. Kate gave her the run-down of your whole routine she knew you’d be here in the cafe after film class, but she didn’t know you would bring that convict with you. she finally rises from her hidden spot in the cafe and walks towards you with determination and confidence.

“I told you I would see you later, didn’t I?” you look up from your laptop to yet again see the same face you say just a few hours ago. She drops something on the table causing you to shift your focus. “What’s this?” You say questioning the black matte shopping bag Wanda placed on the table. “Open it and find out.” She says while smiling at you as she takes a seat across from you. You don’t know what might be in there but you’re curious.

When you take too long without moving to open the bag Wanda pushes it closer to you. “C’mon I spent a lot of time picking it out for you.” She ends the sentence with a pout. A cute pout. You were probably really going to regret this, but you make a move to open the bag. inside the bag she had all types of underwear from detailed lace, silk, thongs, she even bought you guarders and stockings. 

“Are you serious, right now?” 

She pouts a little at your response she thought for sure you would like them, and it was wayy better quality than the flimsy ones you wore last night. she wasn’t complaining then about the easy access, but she wanted you in the best, so she bought it for you, she was the only one going to see you in them anyway. “Yes, what’s wrong do you not like them?” 

You ignore her question because you do in fact like them you actually love them but the way she just bought them and casually shows up with a bag full of panties annoys you a bit. “Why did you buy these?” 

“Well, I felt a little bad for ripping your red ones and you left the party without anything covering that pretty pussy of yours.” She leans forward as she darkly whispers. “We can’t have that now, can we?” You throw the bag across the table hitting Wanda in the chest. “What is this something you buy other whores?” Wanda was about to put you in your place for even mentioning those other broads. she never bought them anything like this. what did she have to do to prove to you that you’re the one for her? maybe she didn’t think it through and jumped the gun with the panties. Before either of you can continue with your conversation you spot Carmen coming to your table Wanda notices your shift in sight and follows suit. 

“Hey, Y/n.” 

“What’s up Carmen? This is a little weird I’ve never seen you out of your uniform before.” Carmen chuckles and slightly blushes. Wanda sits across from you staring daggers into the other girl, was she really going to stand there and not acknowledge her? and blatantly flirt with you in her face? Oh, no that’s not going to fly. “Well, hello to you too Caramel.” Wanda sends her a tight-lipped smile after her sarcastic remark. Carmen turns her head to Wanda’s seated figure. 

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there.” She still makes no effort to properly greet Wanda. “Anyway, I um wanted to give you this, I didn’t see you this morning and I know how much you love them. So, I saved you one.” She places the small pouch containing the brownies on the table. Before you can grab the container; Wanda’s hands are all over it. She opens the container ignoring your stern look of disapproval. 

“Wanda!” You try to reach for the brownie, but she leans away from you taking a bite of it. “Oh, I’m sorry, here have a bite.” She holds the brownie out in front of your face. Disgust shown on your face has Wanda tilting her head with a curious look. “I’m not eating after you.” She lets out a devilish laugh. “You won’t eat after me, but you had no problem sticking your fingers in me?” Your eyes widen with shock and embarrassment. Carmen shifts uncomfortably as she clears her throat. “Oh, I- uh, had no idea you two were.” She leaves her sentence open not knowing what to do in this situation. She’s embarrassed, Wanda notices and of course takes advantage of that. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it Caramel, but thanks for the brownies.” Her posture falters for a moment before she turns back to you. “I’ll see you around y/n, enjoy the brownies.” She leaves the table before you can explain and tell her you and Wanda are not together. you shift all your energy to Wanda. “Hm, these are really good; I see why you like them princess. but as good as they are I can make better ones; I’ll make you some the next time you come over.”

You roll your eyes at her cockiness, who said you were ever going to step foot in her apartment again? “Why would you do that? seriously she’s really nice. Now it’s gonna be awkward when I have to explain everything to her.” 

“Who says you have to explain anything to her?” 

“Well, I don’t need anyone thinking I’m dating you. maybe I can still catch up to her.” You say as you start gathering your things and getting up from the seat. Wanda moves fast to round the table and pushes you back in the seat before you can leave. 

“Sit. down. Detka” She pushes you back with so much force your left panting. 

“You know I don’t appreciate being treated like that you really hurt my feelings, but you can make it up to me by letting me feed you this brownie. Open.” She sits on your lap holding the brownie up to your lips waiting patiently. 

“Please don’t make me get rough in public I’d rather save that for the bedroom, unless you like being watched.” You stare up at her as heat rushes through your body. “I don’t want any-” your sentence is cut off when Wanda shoves the brownie into your mouth unexpectedly causing you to gag a bit. You give her a bewildered look after your fit of coughing calms down. “What the fuck.” you say with the brownie still in your mouth.

“Ah ah detka don’t talk with your mouth full.” she giggles at your reaction. This was fun to her playing with you this way she didn’t want to choke you up like that…not really you just tested her patience. She’s rather choke you properly in the confined space of her room and not in this café. When your eyes shift from Wanda and your face falters, she follows your line of sight. Ah of course she forgot about this problem. Daisy. She needs her out of the way. She doesn’t deserve you. Carmen doesn’t deserve you. Wanda is the only person on this earth that should be able to claim you and she’ll make sure that happens. Daisy’s smile quickly falters when she sees Wanda sitting on your lap and so close to your face. 

To Daisy it was as if Wanda was sucking your face right now in front of her. Your breath hitches when you see the hurt on her face. Sure, you both flirted back and forth and had moments, but nothing came of it because neither one you made a move to further explore things exclusively. Did she have the right to be mad? To be sad? Should you feel guilty right now? Wanda on the other hand had a smug look on her face she really wanted to push Daisy’s button. She wanted to mark her territory. Wanda grabs your face and presses her lips against yours. You’re shocked from the contact not able to do anything for a moment but sit there and let her lips move against yours.

“Kiss me back.” she lowly growls against your lips. She seems to get irritated at the lack of interest from you, so she harshly bites down on your bottom lip. You groan in pain, but it doesn’t last long when you feel her tongue move across the wound she just caused. She continues her exploring as she finally moves her tongue into your mouth. Everything happens so quickly you didn’t have a chance to react accordingly. Wanda leans back slightly while biting her bottom lip as she studies you. “You taste so sweet Princess and I’m sure it wasn’t because of the brownie.” 

you got lost in Wanda for a moment that felt like eternity when you finally turn back to the door you see Daisy’s figure approaching the table. “Daisy.” you whisper with wide eyes. When she gets to the table the words that come from her lips are harsh. “I forgot my jacket.” she nods her head at the other side of the table not bothering to look at you or Wanda. 

“So much for avoiding that baggage you spoke of this morning, huh, Y/n?” She says as she reaches next to you to grab her jacket. Wanda takes a guess at what you two were talking about it had to be about her. She can tell how much it affects Daisy that she’s so close to you right now. Wanda chimes into the conversation to push Daisy’s buttons even more. “What’s that supposed to mean Johnson? You got something you want to say?” Wanda says as she removes herself from your lap to stand eye to eye with Daisy.

Daisy thinks about it for a moment you shake your head not wanting her to stoop down to Wanda’s level. but of course, Daisy was going to do whatever she wanted. “Not much, just that you’re a future junkie and that Y/n shouldn’t be giving you the time of day.” She shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly. 

Wanda laughs at the insult unfazed. “Yeah, maybe so, but with your record I’m surprised you can even pass judgement on me. honestly, I don’t see how the university allowed you to even enroll here. You low life, low class, bottom of the barrel, jail bird.” Okay, maybe the insult hurt Wanda more than she led on with. 

“Okay, enough.” your attempt at de-escalating the situation goes unnoticed. 

Daisy sets her jaw and stares Wanda down with determination and slight amusement? what did she have up her sleeve? “At least I’m true to who and what I am, the only reason you’re even here is because of your father’s name. From what I hear daddy wasn’t too enthused about your artwork as much as he was about Pietro’s future track career. Isn’t that, right? Even your own father knows you’re nothing but failure, you’re a shitty person with shitty art.” Was it bad to say you were slightly turned on right now? 

“Speaking of fathers how is yours by the way? Actually, how are both of your parents? Are they proud of what you’ve done?” Wanda says as she tilts her head curiously waiting for Daisy to answer her questions. Daisy’s parents were dead. she was an orphan. This was going too far, too fast and each time you tried to intervene it did nothing.

“Wanda!” you slap her arm from your seated position.

“What? she gets to talk about me and my family, but I can’t return the favor? you’re smart Johnson there’s no taking that away from you, but you have to be the dumbest smartest person on earth to think you can get away with hacking a major multibillion-dollar corporation and get away with it. And from what I heard you took a plea deal isn’t that right?” Daisy was close to going to jail? you didn’t know that. You also didn’t know she hacked a multibillion-dollar company, maybe she didn’t trust you enough to share that with you. 

Daisy shakes her head no as Wanda counters it with a condescending yes. “Yes, you did, you took the plea deal so you wouldn’t go to jail. Art is subjective to anyone that views it that’s just how it works but you, you’re a fucking hypocrite. Everyone else involved had to serve time, their future ruined but not you, right? You couldn’t even take accountability for what you did. That’s not being true to what and who you are. You’re nothing but a coward and a snitch!” You wouldn’t say Wanda was angry but she sure wasn’t her normal laid back and chill self-right now, and her prominent accent was proof of that. 

Sometimes you forgot she even had one it only comes out occasionally but, in this moment, it’s been present since Daisy approached the table. You see the clench in daisy’s fist you don’t want her getting in trouble she would ultimately get expelled since violence was not tolerated whatsoever. you stand up from your chair to step in-between the two of them but before you can fully stand between them you feel the shocking coldness drenched all over your face and shirt. Maybe that was a bad idea, and you should’ve just stayed seated or simply let them hash it out on their own, this whole thing was stupid anyway.

“What the hell?” When you finally open your eyes from the liquid substance. 

“Shit! Y/n, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to throw that at you.” Daisy is apologizing profusely. 

“Here, printcessa, let me help you.” Wanda tries helping you dry off; she also uses this as an excuse to touch you but mainly just to help you dry off with the napkins she grabbed. you swat at her body not wanting either one of them to touch you. it’s one thing to have a freezing cold ice coffee thrown in your face but when you look down at the table your laptop was completely ruined you don’t even need to touch it to know it won’t power back on. “Look at my fucking laptop, now what I’m I supposed to do? You two have any idea how much I saved up for that? this whole argument is fucking stupid; I’m not sticking around for your dick swinging contest anymore.” 

“Y/n just let me help.” Daisy says while reaching out to you. 

You step away from her and Wanda gathering your bag. “No, I don’t want help from either of you. Both of you can fuck off! you point to both of them while walking out of the cafe to go home and clean yourself up.

“Great going Johnson, you fucked up her laptop.” she smirks to herself when she sees you took the bag of panties, she bought after all. Wanda takes another second to snap out of her mind of you wearing them and turns back to Daisy “I must have struck a nerve huh?”

“Fuck you Maximoff.” Wanda laughs at the anger steaming from Daisy right now. 

“I bet you’d like that, is that why you don’t like me? because I didn’t have you on my list?” Daisy expresses a look of disgust at Wanda’s response she was not interested in Wanda at all sure she was pretty, but she didn’t like her as a person and that also made her ugly. 

“In your dream Maximoff.”

Wanda hums 

“Anyway, here’s what’s going to happen. I need you to stay away from Y/n.” Wanda was being serious right now; she was having a perfect moment with you before she showed up. she ruined the coffee date with the insults and the spilled coffee on you and your damaged laptop. “What? Why would I do that? who are you to demand things from me?” Daisy had no idea how cruel Wanda really could be. 

“Haven’t you heard? I’m Wanda Maximoff, but I’m sure people know who you are much more than they know about me don’t they Skye?” The sharp intake of Daisy’s breath and her wide-eyed reaction is enough for Wanda to know she had won this battle. “How do you-” Daisy stutters her words not able to fully get them pass her lips.

 “Oh, please if I knew about your case what makes you think I didn’t know about you? The real you?” 

“Look I’m in witness protection you can’t tell anybody my real name.” Wanda holds her hand up not wanting to hear her babbling any longer. 

“Yeah, not interested in that honestly just stay away from y/n and your secret is safe jailbird. Do we have an understanding?” Daisy loved being friends with you, she wanted to be more than friends with you, but she couldn’t let this get out she would be hunted down for turning on the others she hacked the company with. this was going to be painful, but she had to put herself first. Daisy nods her head yes. “Yeah, whatever.” Wanda perks up at her response. 

“Glad we could come to an understanding Johnson, enjoy the rest of your day or not I don’t really give a fuck.” That is the last thing Wanda says as she grabs your abandoned laptop and walks out of the cafe. She wouldn’t just leave it there; you needed a new one and she was going to get one for you. Her princess couldn’t be without a laptop, and she definitely didn’t want you using the old beat down computers in the library. Only the best for you. Hopefully you would appreciate this much more than the bag of panties she bought you.

[lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall]

The Spark That Split the Seas - Poseidon x Reader x Thor

(A/N)

Hey guys I’m back! I’ve been grinding hard for a new character that I’d gotten in this game, Genshin Impact, so I’m sorry for the absence! Anyways, as always, I want to thank you all for the support on my past two stories and on my account, I truly appreciate every one of you! On a story-related note, since I’d mentioned on my previous post that I had a lot of Poseidon x Reader x Thor fics written in my drafts, I decided to post one so you guys could also join me in the feels! Any feedback would be appreciated! This was originally shorter than the final story you’re seeing now, as I’d first only written their dialogues, but as usual, I excitedly itched into making a story out of it!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Spark That Split the Seas

Poseidon x Reader x Thor

For more than all the millennia the gods and other species alike had known the lonely kingdom of Atlantis, never once did the crashing waves gave way to the chirping of the largest Albatrosses until now. Otherworldly flying creatures joined with the familiar exclusively earthly ones in enjoying the ebb and flow of the ocean, albeit this time, the hungry ocean appeared more satiated and seemed to follow a regular pattern ‘from sudden crash to a long calm, to crash again then back to another lengthy calm;’ life in the sea rejoiced in this odd occurrence.

Beautiful yellow sun rays poured through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope pattern on the large interiors of the kingdom ruled by the god of the seas, and catching the reflection of his nonchalant visage. The long, elegant dining table filled with every kind of seafood delectable imaginable also fell victim to the light, along with a figure that sat down opposite, whose invitation was clear.

Hidden from this heavenly atmosphere were the prying eyes of a little messenger bird who stood unobtrusively behind one of the tall pillars near the far end of the room, halting his slide just in time to witness this miracle:

The living bearer of the most fearsome title, the ruler of both this grandiose palace of the most precious gems and coral and all the oceans and waters, the almighty Poseidon, though against all reason and self-proved authority whatsoever, against the epics of Greek poets, was indulged, seemingly willingly, in the pleasure of having another’s company. In the shadows, Hermes’ red eyes shot wide open in shock.

Poseidon, the ever abrupt and rude god who had deemed most beings to be below him, received a guest, a still breathing one at that.

What in the gods’ name?

In a tone of haughty contempt, a grunt escaped from Poseidon’s lips. Finishing chewing the last bite of delicious food in your mouth, you nodded your head in earnest agreement with his point. Your next words were uttered with the firmness of an old sage who had all the answers, your beliefs shaped by the countless lifetimes you had lived.

“Existing is painful.” Your shoulders bobbed with your chuckle.

Although Poseidon felt a small measure of relief−a feeling that by habit had always been easy to brush-off with a condescending thought, his face betrayed nothing as his stoic features remained still. “If you agree, then why not allow me to kill you this instant?” As if to emphasize his strength, the crashing sound of dreadful combat between waves and rocks rang in the air, and you almost wished that a low rumble of thunder accompanied it, finding beauty in its loud peals, and additionally giving a volume of inspiration to Michelangelo below.

Despite your gaze being unrequited, you were sure you had the god’s attention. Since arriving here, Poseidon noted that your expression had always been smoothed into a calm, smiling one. “If you had intended to kill me, we would not be having this conversation right now.”

Poseidon sat rigid and silent.

“It’s a comfortingly tragic drama, my circle of life. I may not have been lucky to acquire a life as long as that of the gods, but I have definitely lived more times than you have.” Your words were so nonchalant, for a second there Poseidon thought you were kidding.

“That is for the simple fact that you mortals are weak, pathetic.” Lips as pink as young petunias touched the clear edge of the wine glass as Poseidon’s eyes closed, content to give over to listen.

“Yes, we are.” You paused. “But because of this frailty, we learned to adapt, evolve.”

“There is no need for evolution if you are perfect from the moment of conception. Hence why gods such as I, will always be above you.”

“You’re correct. Humans will never become gods after all,” Again, Poseidon found himself absorbing your words like a sponge. At the same time, he experienced an occasional sharp prick at the edge of his emotions, as if signaling him to pull back. “The same as gods will never become like humans.”

“Extremely foolish of you to think that trash is worthy of the shiniest Orichalcum. Your race has been created by us, for us, and will therefore always be inferior.”

“Humans are inferior in all aspects, this, is a fact. It is hence no accident that there is a history of rebellion and consequently, a false notion of superiority. But to be able to look beyond this, is to understand that we never truly intended to surpass animals nor the gods themselves. The nature of our desire: everything was meant for either survival or man’s search for meaning.

“We are by nature flawed and inconsistent creatures. And as you have no doubt seen for yourself as well, despite reaching all our goals, achieving our wildest dreams, we have never reached a position where satisfaction is achieved.” Keenness made your words sound almost heroic. There was a twinkle in your eye and a lilt in your voice, and Poseidon found that now he had a much clearer picture of your reputation for an irrepressible desire to see what is beyond your reach as you questioned: “If I may ask, as I have seen the gods share this sentiment of looking for meaning, do you feel an inkling of the same?”

When Poseidon had put the wine glass down, he hesitated a moment, his supposedly closed mind wavering between doubt and certainty. He would never come to understand this, nor admit to feeling this dissonance, but at last, he shook his head at his consideration, trying to reduce the unpleasantness he felt by the same way he had always used to get out of extremely rare difficulties.

“Do not disrespect me, mortal.” He knew himself that it was an empty threat.

“Those were never my intentions.” You bowed with great respect, but there was at the same time apparent in your manner the consciousness that while Poseidon would never in any way confirm your statement, he did not necessarily refute it. Your heart rose in gratitude as you regarded him with a look of affection, believing in your intellectual companionship.

“Lord Poseidon, as the fearsome god of the seas, what is the meaning of life for you?” The god surveyed your reflection in one of the golden plates, and maybe it was because he had acted in a charitable way towards you, but he saw brightness, a refreshing difference, as if there were no heavy shackles to weigh you down.

“My husband has always been in search of a worthy opponent. What about you?”

It was like a pin came dangerously close to the rational bubble of Poseidon’s beliefs. But then your words penetrated his mind, and he berated himself for almost falling prey, yet…

“Perfection.” Poseidon blurted out loud, full of self-indulgence, but uncomfortable with the thought of pity reeking from his pores, a role that was clearly uncharacteristic of him.

Tilting your head, your brows meshed inquisitively upon hearing this. “This presents the conundrum; you are already perfect, as should all the gods. Since you have explained, gods have always been pristine, perfect, the moment you all were born.

“So, if you have already achieved the meaning and purpose of your life, what is there left to live for?” There was something entrancing in your guileless form, and Poseidon was displeased that another should feel such an interest in your wise, unguarded character. “And if gods have already reached perfection, why is there an endeavor still for the dross of earth?”

For the first time in Poseidon’s life, he was receptive of contraries. Not one single time, had he ever been in the position where he listened, much more considered the act of interpretation. What he said goes, but for some frustrating reason, he was coming to terms of mutual respect; whenever he was sitting opposite you, chin in hand, the more he caught the flame.

Quickly, he stopped that train of thought and he seamed his mouth, stoic. Only his eyes betrayed a spark of defiance. “Stop asking ridiculous questions.”

Again, you bowed. “I apologize if I have overstepped such boundaries.”

“You better be.” With a look of eager inquiry, Poseidon asked, “Why are you not afraid of me? Is it because you are confident Thor would protect you?” One thing that distressed him was that the more he was alone with you, the more he saw your hands, always ungloved, noticed the wedding-ring on your finger. That closed circle excluded him, his face registering the insult. “As expected from a repulsive weakling,”

“No. I know he would be there for me whenever I should need him, and also the times when I don’t.” You said still a smile on your mouth.

Although you were unaware of the eagle eyes that were watching your every move, you had the instinct. You did not need all the information, and you had nothing to hide. Your shoulders were loose, back wasn’t ramrod straight and you exuded a carefree attitude. “The sole reason why my fears have dissipated is because perhaps, I enjoy your conversation.”

To say this whole exchange took Hermes by surprise would be an understatement. After the initial expression of shock, he laughed lowly.

You continued, “I have already accepted your beliefs. No one is entitled to those except yourself.

“If I were to die from imparting what my beliefs are, that is simply fate, a tragedy, but nonetheless, fate. Of course, I would try my best to avoid disappearing from this lifetime, seeing as I have made a promise with my husband, to continue to fight for my life, shall needed, until the very end.” Poseidon’s grip tightened the slightest bit.

“I believe that despite our obvious differences, we are simply two being who each have our own unique experiences that shape our views and beliefs. For hundreds of millennia, I’d seen calamity from all angles; mainly conflicts over a universal truth,

“But so long as there are questions, there will never be one solid concrete truth. And I’m okay with that.” You concluded.

Compliments never rolled off Poseidon’s tongue easily, since in his view they were nothing but hollow words. But this time, he could hardly slip a word in bad taste. He thought it pleasant to hear you, but it could not distract him from the uninvited presence in his throne room.

“You’re a heretic.” His usual strong voice beckoned your attention, discerning the sternness on the table of his expression to be forced. No matter, you had just enough of a last glimpse to see his face looking younger in repose.

“I have been labeled as such.” You noticed the unique rhythm of the crashing waves seemed to have settled along the sand grains, and you admitted it was so beautiful and timeless.

“You’re dismissed.” Poseidon believed in being straightforward with affairs. Since the conversation has ended, the final interchange of words was not likely to be a substantive one. Though this was his original reason, the face at the forefront of his mind right now was not yours but Hermes’.

You stood up and curtsied to show your gratitude. “Very well. It was splendid to be in your company this afternoon.”

Blue eyes followed you as you began walking away, and he watched you until you went out of sight when you began to ascend the Skíðblaðnir, a ship so completely reserved only for you by the Kingdom of the Norse. Then Poseidon’s ears turned toward the messenger’s direction.

Hermes quickly dashed to Poseidon and knelt to greet him with such a great respect akin to the expectations all elderly gods have always expected of their younger ones.

“We gods are perfect beings from the very start; therefore, we do not plot schemes nor engage in disagreements.” The implication registered with a jolt, and Hermes felt his mouth open as the real reason for your invitation became clear. He fought the urge to look at where Adamas had died brutally as a lowlife, not failing to recognize that this was the exact opposite of that faded history.

Finding quiet when Hermes immediately left, the god of the seas stared at his dominion, taking deep breaths of the air, not feeling the normal icy sting carried by the ocean. Over again he dwelt upon in his conversations with you, interested to find out if the Norse god of thunder had been able to sustain a similar type of conversation.

The very first quiver of interest sparked through Poseidon and though he did not recognize it nor perceived it, he understood the most important things, the only ones he ever needed to:

You did not seek validation nor attention. You had no fear of death, neither of the hardships of life.

Your depths of wisdom were unparalleled throughout the realms, which he would comment on its wasted potential, however, he knew Hermes already understood that part of it.

And the god of messenger did, as the word got around slowly but surely:

“There would always be those who dare to brave the ocean’s roar, but there was only one who withstood it.”

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Epilogue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: Loki reflects on his new life with you. Chapter Warnings: straight fluff peeps A/N: Here it is, the very end of the story! The last chapter posted a few moments ago, so make sure to check that out before this. To everyone who’s taken the time to read, comment, like, reblog, theorize, or talk to me about this story at all, I’m honestly honored. It’s been a wild ride and, seriously, y’all are the best! Well, I hope you enjoy! Happy reading friends :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @marvelousdaydreams​ @andromedasstarship​​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​ @sourpatchspinster @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter 

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Loki? When is mommy coming home?” Matt asked the god whose lap he was currently sitting on.

“Any second now, little one. Do not fret,” he replied with a smile.

Months after the Battle of Oklahoma City, Loki was happily living with you and your family once again. It took a considerable amount of convincing to get Director Fury to agree, but eventually he did. Even worse was having to talk Odin into the arrangement. Did it hurt to be exiled from his childhood home? Of course, but Frigga came down to Midgard to visit when she could. And being banished to go live with his beloved wasn’t so bad, either. Still, Odin had thought that it was a fitting punishment for him to have to spend his days among the mortals he once intended to conquer.

Thor was his brother��s biggest advocate, somewhat surprisingly, and Loki would be forever grateful. While Loki hadn’t actually been there for the negotiations, supposedly Thor fought every charge brought against him with impressive intelligence and eloquence. Loki was pretty sure he was exaggerating as he was so wont to do, but who knows? The world is full of surprises, after all.

Speaking of surprises, your family just had a huge one. Ana had given birth to twins! She and John had been prepared for that, but they hadn’t told the rest of you. Loki would forever remember the way your face lit up when you heard the news. Your smile was, well, there was no other way to describe it than angelic. And the look you’d given him when he held one of the newborns completely melted his heart. Now you were all waiting for John to drive his wife and two new kids home from the hospital. As far as Loki was concerned, life was perfect. Well, almost.

Thanos was still out there, which did cause some concern for the trickster god. But Thor was looking for him right at the very moment, so Loki would have to put his trust in his brother. Once he found that evil Titan, though, Loki would be first in line to join the troops in the battle against him. Even help lead them, perhaps. Thanos’s very existence was a threat to you and your family, which Loki held so dear. He’d stop at nothing to thwart the villain.

Ah yes, villainy. A concept Loki had struggled with for so long. Was he one or just the victim of bad circumstances? According to you, who Loki was inclined to believe, he was a hero. Once he’d told you the whole truth, you were quick to reassure him it was not his fault. Did he plot against his brother and father to take the throne of Asgard? Well, yes, that he was guilty of, but even then his motives were understandable. It did help ease his guilt, but that feeling would gnaw at his heart every now and again. Whenever it did, though, you made sure to pepper his face with kisses, hug him close, and tell him he’d saved Midgard. That he saved you. That he was a hero.  

“Hey, handsome,” you greeted sitting down next to him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, my darling. Just thinking, is all.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, I am just thinking about life. It is a beautiful thing, I realize now,” he said, taking your hand to place a kiss to it. “And thanking the Norns that I am luckiest man alive.”

You’d made it very clear to Denzel that you did not want to be with him anymore. Once you and Loki were officially together, he did back off. It was somewhat reluctant, but he did it nonetheless. And he even managed to be pleasant and friendly when you and Loki ran into him in town. But the bottom line is, there was no one trying to come between you and your prince anymore.

“And why is that?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Because I somehow won your heart.”

“Loki,” you gushed. “You have to stop taking all of these cliches or there will be none left for me! But still, thanks, my knight in shining armor.”

“See, there are plenty for you! But as you wish, my love,” he laughed. “I will just have to write you poems and serenades instead.”

You got very flustered at that. He had sung for you once, as promised, and his voice was even more beautiful than you had imagined. The thought of him singing something of his own creation made you swoon, especially if it was written for you. You poked him for laughing at your embarrassment, but before you could tease him back, the front door opened.

“Mommy!” Matt cheered, pulling himself away from the TV show he was immersed in. “Daddy! Did you bring the babies?”

“Yes, small fry,” John laughed. “We brought your new brother and sister.”

“Yay! I wanna see! I wanna see!”

Ana went to sit on the couch with her daughter, and John followed with their two sons. Matt’s new younger siblings laughed as he waved to them. It made the four-year-old smile.

“This is your little sister, Scarlett,” Ana told Matt. “And your little brother. James.”

You teared up a little hearing that. You’d already been told, of course, that they named him after your brother, but it still made you emotional. Loki pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head. He looked at the happy family and let himself imagine having a family with you for a second. He’d been thinking about it a lot recently, and he realized he wanted to adopt. It was ironic, sure, given his own history. Then again, maybe it made perfect sense. He wanted to be able to give some kid what he hadn’t. Maybe he couldn’t change what happened to him, but he could stop it from happening again. Either way, he would wait until Thanos has been dealt with. After all, he didn’t want the child to be in any danger.

Mama and Papa came out of the kitchen carrying a cake, which Loki was very happy to say he had helped baked. Helped Mama bake it, as a matter of fact. Things were still tense, to say the very least, when he’d first come back to the farm. They were still working on it a little even now, but it was better overall. She was certainly more accepting and picked fewer fights. Mama was happier now, too, something that seemed to take a weight off your shoulders.

Ana made a joke about how she should be trying to get her figure back, but still happily accepted a slice. Your family stayed there until that evening, talking, laughing. The babies were surprisingly quiet, and Loki slowly rocked Scarlett back and forth as she slept, his ability to be nurturing still somewhat shocking him. James was in your arms, and you looked at your nephew with hope in your eyes. After such a dark time, the future was looking bright indeed.

“My darling,” Loki said later that night as you were sitting together on the porch, enjoying each other’s company. “I want to thank you.”

“Oh? What for?” you asked, snuggling close to him.

“For showing me another way. For helping me move on. For accepting me. For everything you’ve ever done. For loving me. All of it. You, my little mortal, are my angel, my savior, my whole heart. And for saving me from myself, I thank you.”

“Oh, Loki. You don’t have to thank me for that. Believe me, it is my pleasure. You’ve saved me so much, too. But you’re right, I do love you, and I always will.”

He whispered your name against your lips in the seconds before he kissed you. Just like every one before and every one after, it was perfect. A promise of love and loyalty. Of trust. It was everything he had ever wanted. You were everything he needed.

Of all the places in the universe the Tesseract could have taken him, it made sense that it chose here. With you, Loki knew he was safe. He knew he was home.

[vs-redemption]

Tis i 🐱 anon I’ve been Mia for a bit lol. But I had the idea of Dabi with an assassin reader that was either 1) recruited into LOV or (2) was sent to kill Dabi but fell in love etc. whenever you can pls ily thank you ❤️

From Cindy:  🐱 anon! I love you ♥♥ And I missed seeing you in my inbox. I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to this request. I’ve been busy due to the holidays. My sister stayed at my house for a few days and we watched the entire first three seasons of Haikuu. lol Now she’s obsessed too *evil laughter* Anyway, I really hope you like how this came out. It might take a turn you don’t expect.

Bullseye (Dabi x Assassin!Reader)

The name of the extraordinary ability you had been born with was documented on the government’s official quirk registry list as “true aim.” It was a simple, yet accurate title for the power which allowed you to hit any target with pinpoint accuracy. No matter what, you never missed the spot you were aiming for as long as you had a clear path. The only drawback was that you had to be within twenty feet of the target. Anything further than that began to lose detail and required something greater than perfect 20/20 vision.

When your quirk had first manifested, you’d been pretty excited to think of all the creative ways and situations in which such a power could be used, even though the adults around you were quick to point out that most of your ideas would be considered illegal by the suffocating and suppressive laws enforced in your country. Such restricting rules had instantly rubbed you the wrong way, and that slight irritation had grown into full blown resentment by the time you’d graduated high school with the reputation of being a trouble maker. Your teachers and other authority figures never seemed to appreciate the way you dared to question the way things were, or that you constantly tested your boundaries by trying to get away with using your quirk in any given situation.

Your refusal to conform to rules made it difficult to get into a college or even hold a job. You even ended up getting banned from several bars and sports centers for having an unfair advantage against other people playing darts or other precision games. The discrimination drove you to look for the freedom and acceptance you craved in less respectable parts of your city. It was in some back alley pub where you’d met a crooked broker named Giran. He sympathized with your situation right away and convinced you that if people were going to villainize you no matter how you used your quirk, you might as well live up to the exaggerated and often times false accusations made against you.

The partnership began with small crimes, but grew more serious as time went by. However, it had still been quite a shock the first time Giran asked you to take care of a hit that had been put on some random scum bag who’d done some bad business with a different random scum bag. Your hesitation waned after seeing the reward money and you accepted the job. The power of your quirk in combination with the black market weapons you’d received from Giran made completing the task a piece of cake. You got a thrill from the easy money, and decided you’d take more jobs like that from then on. Reports of your assassinations spread until you’d earned the nick name “Bullseye” by the press. By the time Giran offered introduce you to a member of the League of Villains, you’d already made it onto the country’s most wanted list.

“Well, if it isn’t the infamous ‘Bullseye” everyone’s been talking about.” The moment your eyes landed on Dabi, you began questioning Giran’s judgement for the very first time since you’d met him. You didn’t like making assumptions about people based on appearance, but there was something about the fire villain’s presence that put you on edge right from the get-go.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” you nod politely. “You must be Dabi.”

The recruitment process was a little tedious. Dabi asked a lot of personal questions about your goals and motivations which seemed weird coming from a guy who left piles of burnt corpses around the city. It wasn’t the questions themselves that gave you pause though, it was the taunting little comments he made at your answers, and the lazy smirks he gave you every now and then. There was something about the intense look in his half lidded blue eyes that got under your skin as well. It was like he was trying to rile you up. But even though you weren’t a diehard follower of Stain or anything like that, your skills as a killer allowed you to pass the interview, earning you a spot in the League of Villains.

The weird feelings you had about Dabi only increased as you spent more time with him on missions and at the hideout. The way his eyes lingered on you always gave you chills, and certain things he said lingered in your mind until you couldn’t focus on anything else. You tried your best to ignore him, but sometimes you lost your patience and ended up bickering with him about the stupidest things.

“Can you try to control your fire please?” You’d tell him irritably. “I can’t do my job if I can’t see where I’m aiming.”

“Sure thing, doll.” His answer just irked you more due to the mocking undertones in his voice.

“And do you really have to monologue for your victims every single time?” you snap. “You’re such a drama queen!”

“Oh, would you rather I focus all my attention on you?” the playful glint in his eyes does weird things to your heartrate and all your pent up feelings finally come to a boil. Keeping a cool head was important for you, especially as an assassin, but Dabi had gotten on your last nerve.

“I swear I’m going to actually murder you!” you say through clenched teeth. “Every time I look at your face I feel sick to my stomach. Your eyes and smirk invade my thoughts and drive me to distraction! You’re annoying comments make me feel like I’m actually on fire, and I really just want to punch you in the face.”

Dabi’s blue eyes go wide and he stays silent for a moment as your words sink in. Then, slowly, he’d make an expression you’d never seen grace his face before… an actual genuine smile.

“Wow,” he says while shaking his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re even more emotionally constipated than I am.”

“What do you mean by that?” you ask and the way his gaze softens threatens to trigger your fight or flight response.

“Do you want to punch me?” He asks seriously, “Or do you want to kiss me?”

“What?” of course the mere suggestion sounds ludicrous for a moment, but suddenly your thoughts shift and everything clicks into place. His eyes and smirk didn’t give you a stomachache, it gave you butterflies. And your reaction to his teasing comments wasn’t real rage at all, you were just flustered. All the pieces meshed together and formed a conclusion in your head. “I have a crush on you.”

“Oh?” He was surprised that you’d make such a bold statement after misreading your own feelings for so long.

“And yeah,” you say with a weird amount of resolution, “I think I do want to kiss you.”

A victorious look blooms in Dabi’s eyes and that obnoxious smirk spreads across his face. He opens his arms and beckons you to come towards him. “Well, come on then doll,” he coos. “Don’t keep me waiting.” You let out a sigh and narrow your eyes at him.

“But I think I’m still going to punch you first.”

[aj-writes-here]

may i request one where levi's s/o gets jealous over something, so they argue but end up having make up sex? i-

I just finished this one, and I hope you like how it turned out! Remember that if you have any comments, if it is too long, if you like it, if you didn’t, feel free to send anything!🤗 Also, this was the last request I had pending so if you want to request something else, go ahead. And btw I’m only doing Levi requests (HC and scenarios) at the moment, so that’s pretty much all I have to say😅

Only You (NSFW)

Who the hell had the idea of accepting the two newly transferred people? That guy Marlo seemed like a nice someone, but surprisingly the girl who arrived with him was not Hitch. And damn y/n wish it was Hitch instead of that new reckless girl. Since she arrived, her eyes were always on the Captain, and even y/n had heard her spitting some comments about 'how hot he was, with that cold stare and attitude' but for more than she wanted it, y/n couldn't answer back, in the end, her relationship with Levi was still an unknown fact for the cadets, only Hanji and Erwin were aware of that. And they were conscious of how Carla, the newly arrived cadet had her eyes laid on Levi. How could a squad leader be jealous of a younger girl who was a real headache? She was loud, annoying, narcissist and she was always saying she was better than the rest but... She was good. She had incredible skills, good with the ODM, at fighting. That's why Carla she had made it into Levi's squad.  

The truth is, that y/n was not someone jealous, she trusted Levi with her life and she knew he had no eyes for someone else. She was everything for him and he had told her that several times, but this new girl was getting on her nerves. It wasn't the first time Carla had obvious actions and everyone would notice her, that day after training was a clear example. She had 'troubles' at taking off her straps, the one on her right thigh. Or the time after an expedition when y/n saw Levi carrying her in bridal style because she had a 'sprained ankle',  or when she had stuck to him on cleaning day. Until then, she was just an annoying brat.

After an expedition, Levi's horse tripped and he ended up with slightly injured and with a discomfort feeling on his back, fortunately, nothing was broken and probably just a bruise. At the moment they were back inside the walls, y/n went to check on him to the infirmary, peaking his head just a bit, she saw  Carla was already there, using her hands to touch his back while he was trying to put his cravat back on, how was she so brave to be there, touching the Captain's back? y/n heard how he told her to go away in his style, and when Carla was out of the room, she spoke to her friend awaiting for her outside the infirmary.

—One week and the almighty Captain will be between my legs—Blinking an eye, she kept walking.

—Good luck trying—y/n answered back to herself, knowing the true meaning behind her words.  

She was trying not to even think about that girl. As said before, she was not someone jealous, but whenever she joined Levi on expeditions made her emotions react. That same day after dinner y/n went back to her room, the same room she shared with Levi. Taking a deep breath, she made her way in. Not wanting to argue, she just remained silent and went to her room to remove her straps, Levi noticed she seemed tired so he just focused on his cup of tea watching her moves. Once y/n was back where Levi was, he decided to break the silence.

—Oi, can you check my back? It feels fucking annoying—Standing up and taking his shirt off, he was surprised by his lover's words.

—Why don't you ask Carla to help you?—y/n had sworn she was not going to snap but she did. Damn her loose tongue.

—Is that why you've been acting weird all day? Don't be ridiculous, y/n.

—Ugh, come on. She's with you all day long. And if that was not enough, you ask her to join you on expeditions.

—Because she's good and she knows what she does, brat. That's the only reason.  And you know that in open fields it's better to keep the bests soldiers in different places. You're one of the bests, I need you covering other areas.

—That doesn't explain why she was touching you today—She gave him a fake smile, jealousy being more obvious than ever. y/n stood up to face Levi.

—So you were there—He lifted an eyebrow with the same boring expression on his face— At the moment I felt her filthy hand on my back, I told her to go away. And besides, I'm dating you, aren't I?

—She even told one of her friends you would be between her legs in one week—y/n rolled her eyes and walked away from Levi, she was trying to control her emotions, but it was hard to do.

—She's a brainless brat—He turned over and he was looking at her one more time—How long have you been stressing yourself out about this?

—A few weeks—She drifted her eyes away from his face, maybe she overreacted but she couldn't help it.

—Tch, you've been an idiot then. How could you think I would be interested in her?—He asked while walking towards her, leaving no space between her back and his desk—And just for your information, brat, the only legs I will be in between will be yours.

In that very same second, y/n felt a shiver running down her spine. She didn't even have the time to think because Levi took her by her hips and sat her over his desk, starting to kiss her neck. And she was not going to deny it, she loved it when he acted like that. His lips moved to her mouth, whispering.

—I don't want anyone but you, do you get it?—Again, he kissed her deeply for a few seconds. Moving back to her sensitive neck he articulated his words one more time— You are the only one I love and the only one I want to be with, brat.

y/n felt the wetness dampening the fabric of her panties, how the fuck could he turn her on so fast? He used both of his hands to grip her shirt and tear it firmly, making the buttons jump somewhere in the room. Yes, he had just ripped her shirt with no mercy.

Holding her by the sides of her torso, he set her on the floor, so he could get rid of her pants, and after touching his thighs all the way up, y/n sat on the desk on her own, comprehending his signs. Levi moved closer to her, and when she was about to kiss her he pulled away just to tease her, and slipped one finger on her panties, smiling internally when he felt how wet she was. He left a trail of kisses from her neck to her stomach, kneeling in front of her. Using his hands to spread her legs a little more he kissed the inner part of her thigs, knowing how much that drove her crazy.  Apparently, Levi was in the mood for ripping her clothes because this time her panties were the victim. Without giving her time to think, he used his tongue to lick along her entrance, making her moan and she gripped his hair tightly in her hand, bucking up her hips against him as a reflect. Levi eating her out was complete torture and y/n knew it, the movements of his tongue were slow, tasting every single space of her.  He grabbed her by her hips and dragged her closer to his face giving complete attention to her sensitive clit, flicking his tongue against it. y/n tugged his head against her, feeling her entire body on fire because of his attentions. She laid her head back letting out a loud moan, and that response only encouraged Levi to go faster. While all of his concentration was on her clit, he decided to use two of his fingers to go inside her, moving them rapidly. Levi was already uncomfortable at the feeling of his hardened length inside his pants, henceforth he used his free hand to touch his erection over the fabric trying to relieve the sensation. A loud moan escaped y/n mouth, claiming she was close. Bad idea. Levi was a tease and he loved it, so when he felt her walls clenching around his thin fingers he took them out, also stoping the movements of his mouth.

y/n cursed him and took him by his shirt to give him a heated kiss at the same time he used his sharp hand to take off her bra, exposing her breasts.

Eagerly, y/n laid one of her hands on his crotch, moaning on his mouth when she felt how hard he was already. A gasp left Levi's lips as he spoke.

—You are the only one who can provoke this—He said harshly—

—You have no idea how happy it makes me—Smiling against his lips, she unzipped his pants so she could touch it over his boxers.

—I can tell—Levi answered with a low voice, reaching for her lips one more time.

He only stopped touching her to put his pants and underwear down, suppressing a moan when y/n grabbed his shaft on her hand, stroking him slowly. Levi moved her closer to the edge of the desk, and knowing what was next, y/n laid her hands on the piece of wood as he aligned himself on her wet entrance.

Pushing his hips forward, y/n threw her head back, closing her eyes at the feeling. Her hands left the desk and they found a place on Levi's neck and shoulders, she needed to hold on to something while he was thrusting in and out of her. The pace was slow but his lunges were hard, he kissed her jaw as he kept moving his hips against her cursing under his breath at how tight she felt around him. y/n looked for his mouth, kissing him deeply and moaning over his mouth. Her hands were moving with complete freedom on his back, digging her nails from time to time.

When their lips were far away from each other, Levi laid his forehead on her shoulder and softly grunting on her skin, he was beyond gone in pleasure. His hands were touching her thigs as he started pounding faster into her.

—Fuck, Levi—She claimed his name with no shame— Just like that, keep going.

She uttered with a hectic voice, digging her nails even harder in his back and wrapping her legs around his waist so he could go deeper into her.

Even though Levi had great self-control, right now it was hard to achieve it, and right now he didn't care. He was not teasing her, or testing her limits. He was showing her that there was no other than her, that all of his affection, love, passion, and craving belong to her. And so did he.

Levi looked at her, loving all of her expressions. Her messed hair, that thin layer of sweat that was starting to cover her forehead, all of her. Damn,  she was perfect. He felt his lower stomach starting to knot up, he dug his fingers on her skin as he was feeling closer to release. y/n was not behind either, she could feel electricity running down her spine, feeling how her walls were clenching around his dick at the same time he was twitching inside her. Accelerating the rhythm of his thrusts, y/n could feel how she was falling from heaven when her climax took over her, letting out a loud moan from her mouth. Just a few seconds later Levi's body was on complete ecstasy, meeting his end on a release that made him shiver, a strangled groan coming out of his throat. Once he stopped his now slower movements, his forehead was still laying on her shoulder as they both tried to gain their breath back. y/n hold him tightly against her naked body.

—Oi, is it clear now that I just want you, brat?—Levi asked, moving his gaze to her reddish face.

—Very much—She replied with a lazy smile, cupping his cheek with her hand and kissing him.

—I love you, idiot. Only you—Levi laid his hand on her cheek and caressed her cheekbone, kissing her again. He could never get enough of her lips.

————————————

After taking a shower together, y/n changed into her sleep clothes, her shorts and one of Levi's shirts. She was about going to bed when a knock on the door stopped her actions, and since Levi was still in the bathroom, it was her who opened the door.

—Goodnight, Capt—The provocative face the girl had, turned to one of panic at seeing y/n.

—Carla?—She asked, eyes wide open.

—Squad Leader y/n. I-I—She couldn't find the words to say, and her face turned paler when she saw Levi leaving the bathroom only with a towel around his waist.

—Cadets are supposed to be sleeping at this time—Levi spoke— Get out of here before I make you and the rest run laps before the sun comes out.

They couldn't even saw the moment the girl left, she was faster than lightning. Honestly? y/n couldn't help but smile as she was closing the door. Once it was locked, she walked towards Levi.

—Do you realize that tomorrow all of them will be talking about us?—She asked with her eyes lifted and hug him by his lower back.

—It's about time they find out—Levi replied in a relaxed way, giving her a soft gaze after she kissed him.

It was sure that the girl would be telling everyone what she saw, Squad Leader y/n wearing Captain Levi's clothes, and the Captain walking out of the bathroom only wearing a towel. They had been keeping it a secret from the cadets for a year and a half, it was not a bad thing for them to know. Maybe in this way, the rumors about them and the deliberate flirting would cease, but it was clear now for y/n and Levi. They belong to each other, today and always.

[stayextrafrosty]

I’m Dying for a Taste of You: Chapter 5

Chapter Title: The Side Effects of You

Chapter Summary: Michael and Alex follow Caber out to the middle of nowhere and witness a horrific sight. Michael makes a decision regarding Alex that doesn't work out the way he hopes.

A/N:  I've officially planned out the rest of this story! I've never planned anything before and it feels strangely liberating. The remaining chapters will be longer (like this one) so I can wrap up the plot of this story in a reasonable amount of time. There's a pretty graphic depiction of blood and body horror in here so be warned. And we have the return of highly possessive Michael. So enjoy!

Kinks Explored: Somnophilia, bondage, wax play

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

-

Alex and Michael followed Caber out but lost sight of him as he wove through the cars. Alex watched Michael’s eyes as he glared at every small movement that Alex wouldn’t be able to see. He rested a hand on his arm.

“Just stay calm. He wouldn’t stray far from Alayna right? Are we really going to assume she just left?” Michael rolled his shoulders in response.

“I can still smell the creep. Wait here,” he said. He quickly unhooked the chain from Alex’s neck and he vanished. He was only gone for a moment before he was back and shoving a sweatshirt and gun into his arms. Alex raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d come here without having a way to arm you, did you?” Alex didn’t know what he thought. He had been perfectly willing to let Michael handle the fighting if need be.

What’s wrong with me? I never completely put my life in someone else’s hands. It’s stupid.

Alex pulled the sweatshirt on and wrapped the strap of the holster around his waist. Michael looked him over once and grabbed his hand, pulling him in a direction away from the club. Alex knew this would be faster to let Michael go alone, but he didn’t seem to be willing to do that.

His prosthesis made it hard to run. Michael seemed to be conscious of it but the pace he was walking certainly wasn’t easy. Alex just clenched his jaw and kept pace. He wondered if turning into a vampire would heal his leg. He assumed not but the rumor was that becoming a vampire healed everything. He had learned to live with it and it wasn’t as though it bothered him, but what would it be like to actually experience sensation again?

Michael gripped his hand tightly and seemed to slow his pace. Alex just squeezed his hand back as they walked. Michael was scanning over everything, occasionally lifting his head like a dog would, smelling the air. Alex wanted to chuckle but he figured he could tease him about it when they weren’t hunting a killer vampire.

“Hey,” Alex said softly, tugging on his arm. Michael stopped walking.

“I don’t know if Caber is the vampire behind the murders. But even if he’s not, I have to kill him for breaking the rules of the club.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities, but isn’t he way stronger than you?”

“I’m a lot more pissed off. I know you can’t smell it, but he’s surrounded by blood.” Alex nodded slowly and Michael turned to keep walking.

They were walking into an open field next to the club. The neon lights still obscured the stars and served as a beacon to find their way back. Not that Michael would get lost. The rocky New Mexico ground made Alex stumble but he never fell with Michael holding onto him.

The walk was silent except for the dirt under their feet. The darkness grew as they moved further into the opening. His eyes were adjusting slowly but the moon was absent so natural light was minimal. Alex looked up at the stars, wondering just how he had gotten into this mess.

He could just barely see the dip of the water retention hole. No water would be there now but the spring and the melting snow usually filled it. Michael sped up his walking again, pulling Alex along behind him. He was at a light jog by the time they got to the edge.

A small hint of light coming from one of the sewers caught his attention. The biggest one. He glanced at Michael who was hyper focused and glaring at the light.

“Stay here and I’ll be back,” he ordered quietly. Alex shook his head.

“There’s no way I’m letting you go down there alone. You gave me a gun for a reason,” he whispered back.

“I can smell a lot of blood. Whatever’s down there… I don’t think you should see it.”

“This is my job remember? I need to find the identity of who’s killing girls to clear your name. And I have a strong feeling it’s Caber.” Michael clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair.

“Dammit, fine.” He released Alex’s hand and lifted his to his mouth, biting it. Alex didn’t flinch as Michael lifted his bleeding hand and wiped it from his chin down his neck. He repeated the same motion on the other side. Alex raised an eyebrow.

“What’s all that for?” he asked.

“It’ll cover your smell for a little while. Hopefully long enough to get some useful information.” Michael started walking down slope to the basin. Alex watched after him for a moment before following. He stumbled a bit but Michael was right in front of him, looking over his shoulder as they walked.

When they finally made it down, Michael, grabbed his face gently. Even in the dark, his sharp features stood out. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It felt too much like a goodbye. When Michael tried to pull away, Alex grabbed his arm and yanked him back. Alex wasted no time running his fingers over his shoulders and up his neck to rest on his face. He kissed him again. Filling it with a promise of later that he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep.

Michael held him close for another few moments, sighing against his lips and hands slipping just under the sweatshirt so his fingers brushed over Alex’s skin.

“Stay behind me,” Michael mumbled. Alex nodded and they pulled apart. They walked as quietly as they could to the sewer opening, finding the grate cover set to the side of the hole. Michael had to duck slightly but it was wide enough for them to walk side by side. Alex followed him in, opting to stay only one step behind him as opposed to a few.

The light at the end of the tunnel pulsed and flickered every few seconds. Why would they light a fire in a place with almost no ventilation? Alex started to see the imperfections in the wall as they got closer. The tension in Michael’s shoulders refused to relax. Alex couldn’t smell what he did, but it must be torture.

They rounded the curve of the sewer, Michael trying to peak ahead before they accidentally walked out and gave themselves away. Alex grabbed his hand again, trying to make sure that he didn’t stumble too far forward. Michael squeezed his hand in a silent acknowledgment.

Suddenly he stopped and pressed himself against the wall as tightly as he could. He lifted a finger to his lips and inched his way along the stone. Alex tried to peak around his body but Michael kept him pressed back. Alex dropped his hand and reached for his gun. He finally picked up on the quiet talking.

“I promise baby girl, I’ll stop whenever you want. This is just a scene I’ve wanted to try,” he heard Caber say. His voice was weirdly gentle and reassuring.

“I don’t know if I like being tied up like this. I mean… what if you can’t stop?” A small voice squeaked out. They finally inched far enough that Alex could look around Michael.

Torches burned along the walls and in the center of the room. He watched a shirtless Caber walk around a stone slab. It was almost straight but rested at an angle with a girl who was still fully clothed chained to it. Alex chanced a look at Michael who looked sick to his stomach.

“You don’t trust me? I’m hurt. I promise you’ll enjoy this.” He stopped in front of the girl and leaned in, biting her shoulder. Her limbs pulled against the cuffs as she sighed in pleasure. Alex looked away. He started to feel hope. That maybe this girl wasn’t in danger, just at the mercy of some weird fantasy.

The tearing of fabric made him jump as his head jerked up to watch in horror as a knife ripped through her dress. She screamed and tried to cover herself but with her hands and legs restrained, she was helpless. Alex gripped the gun in his hand, ready to jump in and stop this.

“Stop! I don’t want this!”

“So you lied to me? That’s not very nice.” Alex could hear the sick joy he was getting from this. The girl’s eyes widened as he pressed the tip of the knife into her throat. She choked out a sob and desperately pulled at the cuffs.

Alex took less than a step towards them.

He thought he would go deaf from her scream.

Michael grabbed his arm.

“Your blood is for a good cause. Promise.”

Blood poured from the line running down her torso.

-

A hand clamped down over Alex’s mouth and pulled him back from the scene. His fingers trembled around the gun and his feet weren’t on the floor. Water spilled from his eyes and his stomach turned. The image burned into his mind replayed on every surface he looked at.

Michael held him so tightly he thought he might snap in half. But he also might fall apart otherwise. He mumbled soft hushing sounds into his ear. Telling him to wait for a bit longer. Michael pulled the gun from his hand and slipped it back into the holster on his hip.

Alex had seen the bodies after they had been drained. But they were never like what he just saw. He hadn’t considered what the other victims looked like while it was happening. Now he had a perfect visual. One that he couldn’t force away.

He could hear Michael mumbling words in his ear but couldn’t make any of them out. The light at the end of the tunnel was growing faint but even the dark couldn’t stop the replay of the knife cutting the girl open.

The night air brushed over his face, forcing him to finally blink. Tears still ran over his cheeks and the nausea hadn’t subsided. He struggled in Michael’s arms as his stomach flipped. He released him and Alex fell to his knees hurling. Sobs made his shoulders tremble and broke up the sounds of his emptying stomach.

Michael rubbed his back slowly, pulling him into his arms when he couldn’t puke anymore. They sat together as Alex cried, his eyes screwed shut, willing the image away.

“I know, I know. He won’t get away with this ok?” Michael reassured. But Alex couldn’t take it. The tears didn’t stop as he wrenched himself away from Michael, rage filling his body. “Alex—”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Alex growled out. He grabbed the gun and ran- as much as he could on shaking legs- back toward the entrance to the sewer. He didn’t get far before Michael was grabbing him again, arms wrapped around his waist as though he were a small child.

“You will die if you go back in there right now!”

“I don’t care! I’ll take that bastard with me!”

“Alex, listen to me! I will help you, ok? I will help you get rid of him but please, stop!”

“I can’t let him walk for another second!” Michael’s fingers dug into his waist as he was pulled back. Alex struggled but Michael held him fast. He was spun around to look at Michael’s face.

The background faded away and he couldn’t break eye contact. Michael’s eyes glowed bright red in the dark. His mark throbbed and he dropped the gun to the ground. His body relaxed and he struggled to remember what they were arguing about. Michael spoke slowly, but his mouth never moved.

Calm down. I’m here. Stop fighting.

And it was the best idea ever. Alex leaned in slowly and Michael pulled him to his chest. Soft kisses were dropped over his cheek and down his neck. He let his head roll to the side and eyes flutter shut.

Sleep. My love.

-

Light filtered in from the edges of the shade when Alex cracked open his eyes. He closed them again when he determined it was too bright. Feeling slowly returned to his body. The soft sheets were wrapped around him. Softer than normal cotton. They rested against skin all the way down his body. He was sore from the previous day but pleasantly so. He reached out and ran his fingers over the fabric before they brushed against another body. He turned over slowly and pulled his eyes open again.

Michael’s face was soft and his curls looked like a halo on the pillow where the light fell. Alex followed the lines of his face down his neck to his shoulders. He followed the hard lines until they disappeared under the covers at his waist.

Alex didn’t remember much after they followed Caber out of the club. It’s like there was a blank where memories should have been. Alex sighed and figured he would just ask Michael when he woke up.

He wanted the answers now but he couldn’t bring himself to disturb the peace that was the two of them in bed together. Alex reached out again, running his fingers over Michael’s cheek and over his neck. He snored softly and shifted under Alex’s touch but didn’t wake.

He scooted himself closer as his hand ran over his shoulder and down his side. He slipped his fingers under the sheet and pushed it away slowly. Alex kept his eyes on Michael’s face, making sure he didn’t wake up. He rolled him to his back carefully, leaning down and kissing his chest.

Michael was beautiful and Alex had known that since the first time they met. But now he had time to really take him in. He might have blushed if he had been awake but this was his time. His time to be selfish.

Alex kissed his chest, flicking his tongue over his nipples and watching them harden from the attention. Michael sighed in his sleep as he slowly worked his way down his torso. The lower he moved, the more Michael’s cock hardened.

“’lex…” Michael mumbled. Alex held in his laugh from the joy of knowing he could have this effect on him, even in his sleep. He let his fingers dance over his skin, barely brushing the surface. The hair on his chest tickled his fingers and face.

He moved lower, nipping gently at the skin on his hips. Michael’s breathing was picking up, and soft moans occasionally escaped. Alex wondered what he was dreaming about. He ran his hands down his arms and tickled the palms of his hands. Tracing his mouth along the V of his hips, Alex positioned himself between Michael’s legs.

Alex started slowly, taking the head of his half hard cock in his mouth. A small whimper made him grin. He scratched his sides gently, moving down to his hips and then legs. Michael’s mouth opened slightly as he sighed. Alex swirled his tongue around the head, tasting the pre cum that had started leaking.

He pushed Michael’s thighs apart slowly, running a finger along the crease of his ass. He sucked his cock in as deep as his gag reflex would allow. Michael whispered a broken sound that might have been his name. Alex teased his fingers around his hole as he wrapped his tongue around his cock as much as he could.

Alex kept watch on his face as he moved his head up and down at a steady pace. His free hand massaged his own growing erection as it throbbed and begged to be stimulated by something else.

If I wake him up, I’m sure he’d be more than willing to solve this problem.

Alex pushed the tip of his finger into Michael’s ass. He’d wanted to do this yesterday but he’d been spent. As fun as it had been to include Forrest, he needed to own Michael. Make sure he was the only one Michael wanted.

He released his cock from his mouth and ran his tongue down his shaft before sucking one of his balls into his mouth briefly. Michael’s eyebrows drew together along with a soft moan. Alex moved on quickly, pushing his tongue against his entrance alongside his finger. He only lingered a few seconds before pulling away. He glanced around the room and noticed a brand new bottle of lube on the dresser. He ran his eyes over Michael again and decided against pulling himself up and putting on his prosthesis just for that. He pulled his fingers out and spit on them before pushing them back in.

Alex kissed Michael’s thighs as his fingers moved in him slowly. He watched Michael’s cock jump every time he pushed in. He went back and forth between his legs, working his way back to his hips and the head of his now fully hard cock. Alex let his eyes flutter closed as he took Michael in his mouth again.

“Well this is certainly my favorite way to wake up,” a groggy voice mumbled. Fingers ran through Alex’s hair as he opened his eyes to find Michael smiling at him. He hummed around him and Michael sighed happily, gripping the strands of hair. “Fuck,” he breathed out.

Alex curved the two fingers buried in his ass, pressing against his prostate. Michael’s cock throbbed in his mouth as small moans slipped out. Michael let him take his time. Never thrusted though he could feel the way his legs were shaking.

“God Alex, I won’t last if you keep this up,” Michael joked, breathless. Alex released his cock from his lips and grinned up at him.

“Fine. Do me a favor and get the lube you so kindly picked up.” Michael smiled back as Alex pulled his fingers out. Michael moved quickly and was back on the bed kneeling next to Alex in no time at all.

Alex pushed himself up on his knees to meet him halfway. Michael cradled his face in his hands as their lips met softly. Alex reached of his hips, running his hands over them to the muscles in his lower back. He splayed them over as much skin as he could, feeling the muscles flex.

Michael licked at his lip before tugging on it gently, making Alex sigh. He ran his hands down to squeeze his ass before pushing a finger back in. Michael yanked their bodies flush against each other, save for the space where he was gripping both of their cocks and stroking at the same pace as Alex’s finger.

“I had never seen anything so beautiful. You sleeping next to me,” Alex said during a pause in their kisses. “Every part of you free for me to take. I couldn’t help myself.” Michael chuckled and Alex could have sworn his cheeks were dusted pink.

“You keep reminding me how much I don’t deserve you. But I refuse to let you go.” Michael nipped at his lip again, slightly elongated fangs catching the skin. Alex pulled his finger out of his ass and gripped his hips instead.

“The feeling is mutual,” Alex said. Then he pushed Michael onto his back again. He dragged his hands more roughly over his torso than he had earlier. Michael rolled into his touch and reached up to run his own hands down Alex’s arms. Alex didn’t allow it for long, grabbing his wrists and pinning them together above his head.

Michael’s fanged smile turned Alex on more than ever. Everything about Michael was perfect. He leaned down to press hungry kisses against his mouth that Michael gladly returned. Alex rubbed their cocks together, shuddering at the stickiness that leaked from both tips.

He grabbed the lube and pushed the cap open. He released Michael’s wrists but he never moved them as Alex coated himself. Michael’s eyes burned holes in his skin as they roamed his body. Alex closed the lube and tossed it aside. He grabbed Michael’s wrists again and let his now lube coated fingers slip inside him.

Michael moaned and rolled his hips. His noises cut short by Alex kissing him again. He moved his fingers quickly, spreading and twisting them to relax the muscles. But Alex was already impatient, and apparently so was Michael.

“Fuck Alex, I need you inside me,” he pleaded between kisses.

Alex pulled his fingers out roughly, making Michael yelp and grabbed his cock, pushing the head into his ass. Both of their mouths fell open at the tight squeeze. Alex rocked his hips slowly but his legs were shaking with need.

Michael wrapped his own legs around Alex’s hips and pulled him in. He thrusted forward, burying himself deep inside. Alex’s head fell to rest on Michael’s shoulder as they both moaned and panted.

Alex thrusted roughly again and again. His eyes closed, lost in the bliss of Michael clenching around him. He pressed his mouth to his shoulder and kissed once, twice, then bit. Michael met his next thrust, making them both gasp.

“Alex, please. I need to touch you,” Michael begged. Alex met his gaze before releasing him. Almost instantly his arms were around his neck, hands tangled in his hair, pulling their mouths together. Alex kept his rhythm steady but he was close and it wouldn’t stay that way much longer.

“You’re mine, Michael,” Alex said when they parted. “I don’t want you going to anyone else for anything, understand?” He watched as Michael’s eyes turned red and teeth extended. He tried to turn his face away but Alex grabbed his throat, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I refuse to let you go.”

Alex held Michael down by his throat. Knowing full well that if he wanted to, he could escape. He sat up and bent one of Michael’s legs back so he could hit deeper. They moaned together at the new angle. Michael grabbed himself and started stroking as Alex snapped his hips forward.

His mind was getting fuzzy. All he could focus on was chasing the edge that he wanted to fall over. He squeezed his hand around Michael’s throat tighter and watched as his back arched and his fist twisted into the sheets.

“Cum for me Michael,” Alex ordered. Michael moaned and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from his throat. Alex smirked down at him as he pressed his lips to the pulse point in his arm. “Go on baby. If you want it, it’s yours.”

Alex’s hips stuttered in their rhythm when he bit down. It hurt. So much more than usual. Alex hissed but kept his thrusts going. He cursed as he felt the pressure in his groin. Michael was staring up at him, eyes as red as the blood that escaped from the side of his mouth. He wanted to beg Michael to kill him. To turn him.

Michael released his wrist and pushed himself up with his free hand. Alex leaned in to rest his forehead against his. They panted together, chasing the relief that they both needed.

“Michael, I���m…” He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before he was filling Michael’s ass with his cum. Choking out a low moan and grabbing his legs, bending them back so he could pound into him. Michael’s ass gripped around him, sending waves of overstimulation to the rest of his body. His cock throbbed as it emptied itself.

“’lex…” Michael moaned out. A few more rough thrusts pushed him over the edge.

Michael’s back arched as his hand pumped his cock. He came over his abs and fist, moaning brokenly as Alex’s thrusts slowed. Alex pushed himself fully inside Michael before letting himself fall forward onto his chest. Michael squirmed beneath him, rubbing his cock against Alex’s stomach and grinding his ass against his hips where they were connected.

“Stop moving,” Alex mumbled, nuzzling his face into his chest.

“Can’t. You feel too good,” he replied though he did attempt to still his hips.

Alex lifted his head and rested his chin on Michael’s chest. He watched him curiously. The blood on his lips started to dry and he seemed to be biting his bottom lip to keep himself still. Alex leaned up and kissed him, pulling his lip from between his teeth. Fresh blood slipped over Alex’s tongue and he sighed happily.

“If you need more—” Alex started. Michael cut him off by flipping them over. The mess on his stomach was now covering Alex’s too. He grabbed his cock loosely and rubbed slowly, grinding his ass down.

Alex whimpered quietly but didn’t stop him. He ran his hands over his legs and hips, moving Michael back and forth. His cock throbbed from the continued stimulation but it wasn’t a bad feeling.

It wasn’t long before Michael was gasping and moaning above him, jerking himself off with shaking legs. Alex dug his fingers into his hips and thrusted his own up quickly. Their hips met a few times before Michael shuttered and came again with a low groan. There wasn’t nearly as much as the first time but his cum still made a mess between them.

Michael pulled himself off Alex carefully before rolling onto his back next to him. Alex turned his head to watch him run a hand through his hair and smile. The sun caught his hair again and Alex chuckled. Michael glanced in his direction with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re still the most stunning person I’ve ever seen.” Michael just rolled his eyes but Alex saw the small grin that snuck out.

“I’ve got nothing on you, hunter.” Alex blushed and Michael rolled onto his side, running a hand over his arm. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone as perfect as you. Even though you’re reckless and let me drink when you know you shouldn’t.”

“I just want you to be happy. And I want to be the one to make you happy.” Alex took the hand that was running over his arm and pulled it to his mouth, kissing his fingers.

They laid there for a couple hours, talking about nothing in particular. Michael teased Alex about their activities the previous night and Alex was reminded of the missing time in his memories.

“Hey, I can’t remember anything after we left the club. What happened?” Any part of Michael that had been relaxed tensed under Alex’s fingers. He sat up and pretty much jumped out of bed.

“I believe I promised you a warm bath. I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Michael was gone from the room before he finished speaking. Alex’s eyebrows drew together. What was he hiding? He had six days to solve the murders of the girls and he didn’t have time to worry if Michael was being honest.

He was almost certain it was Caber but couldn’t figure out why his gut insisted that. He needed proof if he was going to get Michael off the hook. Michael wandered back into the room a few minutes later with a cocky smile on his face. Alex didn’t have time to react before he was being scooped up into Michael’s arms and carried to the bathroom.

Michael’s tub was huge and had jets. He hadn’t used them last time he was here. But here he was, being set down into comfortably warm water with Michael sliding in behind him. His arms wrapped around his waist, pulling Alex against his chest. He kissed his shoulders and mark making Alex sigh.

This was obviously a distraction. Alex’s brain told him to just go with it. Michael would be happier if he did. Michael pressed a button on the side of the tub and the jets started shooting slightly warmer water. Alex tried to make sure he didn’t get lost in the therapeutic massage against his knee, just above where his missing leg was.

“Michael,” he mumbled out, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment. It would be so easy to just let it go…

“I’ll take care of you alright?” Michael said next to his ear. Alex slipped into the comfort of his arms. But only for a second.

He reached for the memories of last night again, only to come up blank. Something significant was cut from his recollection of the previous night.

“Michael. As much as I want to let you get away with the distraction, what happened after we followed Caber yesterday?” Alex leaned forward to put some distance between them. He looked over his shoulder at Michael.

His face was wrought with worry and nerves. He refused to look Alex in the eye as he grabbed the soap and lather his hands before rubbing the tension out of Alex’s shoulders. Michael washed slowly, digging his thumbs into the muscles. Alex sighed and looked away, allowing him time to think.

“You were horrified by what we found. So I took your memories,” he said quietly. For a minute, the only sounds were the water as it shifted with Michael’s movements.

Anger bubbled under Alex’s skin. Michael had told him he doesn’t use his powers like that. And now he’s gone and taken an entire evening of time from him. He wanted to jump up and run away but he was confined to the bath. He cursed his missing leg. Instead he gripped the sides of the tub until his knuckles turned white.

“Please understand Alex. I’ll tell you what you need to know but I wasn’t going to let you suffer with seeing visions.”

“You had no right to make that decision for me.”

“You were in a rage, Alex. I had to stop you. You didn’t handle what we found out well.” Alex paused but stood his ground. Even though it killed him to go against Michael.

“You’re going to give me every memory that you took back,” Alex said lowly. He glared at the white wall.

“Alex—”

“No! You are going to do as I say Michael Guerin. Or I swear to god I will leave.”

Alex’s throat burned with the words. He knew it was an empty threat but he didn’t know how to make Michael understand the betrayal he felt. Michael had gone silent behind him, fingers frozen in place on his skin. Alex turned to look over his shoulder at him.

He met Michael’s red eyes. Fury rolled off of him as his fingers started to dig into Alex’s skin. He flinched at the sharp pain.

“Michael. Let go of me.” He finally blinked and looked down to where his fingers were. He released Alex but it didn’t last long. Alex was yanked back by his waist and Michael was burying his teeth in his mark.

Alex yelped at the sudden intrusion and tried to squirm away from Michael. Tears pricked at his eyes as Michael sucked at the skin. He wasn’t drinking. The way his jaw clenched and bit made the message clear. This was intended to hurt. Alex pushed as much as he could but Michael refused to release him. Then words began to float into his mind.

You are mine. You will not leave.

His brain demanded that he believe those words. That they were the only right solution. Michael detached from his throat and Alex scrambled to the other side of the tub. The fear creeped into his mind and he grabbed at his neck, as though to stop the bleeding even though there was none. Michael’s eyes glowed bright red.

“What is wrong with you?” Alex snapped.

At his voice, Michael seemed to slump back. His eyes blinked rapidly as the red faded. He looked around the bathroom as though he didn’t know where he was. His gaze finally landed on Alex, who shook even though the water was warm.

“I— Alex I—” He shot up and climbed out of the tub, grabbing the towel and slamming the door closed behind him. Alex jumped at the sound.

-

Alex finished washing himself before climbing out of the tub and siting on the edge. Had he gone too far? Did threatening to leave send Michael into a frenzy?

He looked around and while there were new handrails on the wall, he wouldn’t be able to maneuver himself back to the room without crawling. He stared at the closed door for a few minutes before deciding to ask for help.

“Michael,” he called. He wasn’t sure if Michael was still here but he hoped. He let his anger get the best of him. While he didn’t think he was in the wrong, he could have gone about it differently. The door squeaked open slowly. Not fulling opening. Alex took a breath, thankful he hadn’t left.

“I need help getting back to the room,” he said quietly.

“I’ll bring your prosthesis to you,” Michael mumbled out before starting to close the door.

“No. I want you to help me.” Alex knew what Michael was feeling. He needed to make sure he understood that Alex still trusted him. Michael hesitated before pushing the door open. He had put on a pair of sweats with a loose t-shirt and he wouldn’t look at Alex. Just offered his hand. He shoved back the embarrassment of his next demand. “No. Carry me.”

“It would be better if I just got your prosthesis. You don’t need to pretend like you want me to help.” Alex’s nose twitched in annoyance.

“Carry me,” he repeated more firmly. Michael finally met his eyes and he could see they were red from crying. His heart broke. “Please,” he begged quietly.

Michael moved slowly but lifted him into his arms. Alex wrapped his arms around his neck, resting his head on his shoulder. Michael held him securely. There was no danger of being dropped. He wouldn’t hurt him.

He was placed on the bed gently and Michael stepped away before he could stop him. He walked across the room to pick up his prosthesis and bring it to him. He set it on the ground next to Alex.

Alex grabbed his wrist before he could move again. He tried to get Michael to look at him but he simply refused. He tugged on his arm to bring him closer. Michael hated himself and Alex could tell.

“Can you bring me some clothes?” he asked quietly. Michael nodded and moved to the dresser, pulling out more sweats and another shirt. He handed them to Alex before beelining for the door. “Wait!” He froze just as he stepped into the hall.

“I want to talk. About yesterday. About what just happened. About us.” Alex pulled the sweats on, then the shirt. Michael stayed in the hall while he got dressed. Only turning once he was done. He moved back into the room, leaning against the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Alex sighed.

“I’m sorry I said I would leave. I didn’t mean it.” Michael’s eyes flicked up to him for a second.

“I… You shouldn’t apologize. You have every right to want to leave. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

“It hurt Michael. The way you bit me.” His eyes screwed shut and he gripped his arms.

“I know. And I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did it. I just wanted to find a way to keep you here. Keep you with me.” Alex knew this. Knew that he had tried to compel him to stay. But he fought it back. He was here because he wanted to be.

“You tried to compel me. It didn’t work.” Michael looked up at him, confusion written all over his face.

“It did. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Alex shook his head.

“No, Michael. I resisted the compulsion.”

“That’s not possible.”

“You’re the one who told me I had to learn how to fight off the influence of the mark. So I did. Compulsion is no different.” Michael stared at him. Dumbfounded. A small smile broke on his face before it vanished again.

“You never fail to amaze me,” he said quietly before looking away again. Alex sighed.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you compelled my memories away yesterday. When I probably wasn’t prepared. You still had no right. I need all the information to make an accurate judgement,” Alex explained. Michael ran a hand through his hair and bounced one of his legs.

“I just wanted to protect you. I was scared you were going to get yourself killed.”

“I get that but I want them back, Michael. Then we can figure out what to do.” He looked at him and took a few steps toward the bed.

“We?” Alex’s shoulders relaxed for the first time since the bath. He gave Michael a small smile.

“Yes. We.”

Michael kneeled down in front of Alex and took one of his hands gently. Alex squeezed back in response. He lifted his free hand to rest on Michael’s face as he leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I forgive you for taking my memories as long as you return them. And I forgive you for what happened earlier. I trust you Michael. That hasn’t changed.” Michael lifted his head and chased Alex’s lips, pressing soft kisses to them.

Alex allowed this for a long while. He could feel Michael’s hesitation and fear in the way his hands trembled. The pleading in his kisses that begged Alex to reconsider. Their lips slipped over each other easily, soft sighs breaking the silence.

When Michael finally pulled back, he took a deep breath and ran his hands up Alex’s arms. Placing his hands on his face and pressing their foreheads together made Alex feel safe. Michael spoke softly.

“The part of your memories I took was when Caber sacrificed a girl. You froze and I had to drag you out. Once you regained your senses you were determined to kill him. I used compulsion to calm you down then seal your memories.”

Alex nodded, placing his hands over Michael’s. He swallowed, suddenly nervous about what he would see. What if Michael was right and he couldn’t handle it? Sacrifice was far off from any of the hypotheses the police force had. He would need to convince them of a new motive and that Michael wasn’t part of it.

“Alex, I’m going to need you to look at me,” Michael said softly. Alex opened his eyes to get lost in the golden brown of Michael’s. He watched as they slowly shifted to a glowing red. Mesmerized, Alex leaned forward, lips brushing against Michael again.

Remember everything that happened before I compelled you.

Like he was speaking into his mind, Alex felt like the answers to the universe had been laid out before him. A realization that he had been reaching for but could never quite understand.

Images began flashing through his mind. Some were fuzzy as the nature of memories go but there was no mistaking the blood drenching every part of the vision in front of him. A girl chained to a stone slab, a knife, a cut down her body. He distantly felt Michael’s hands on him, holding him upright.

Michael’s hand covering his mouth to stop the scream was when things blurred. He couldn’t make out any of the walls. The sacrifice replayed over in his mind until the outside came into view. He remembered the disgust and anger. He felt himself throw up in the memory and he wanted to gag all over again.

Then he was raging, grabbing for a gun and Michael was yelling. They both were. Alex needed to calm down and Michael overpowered him. Then they were pressed together and Michael’s eyes were red.

Alex slumped forward into Michael’s arms, trying to control the urge to start puking again. He tried closing his eyes but the image of the knife running down the girl’s torso wouldn’t let up. It felt like it wasn’t as vivid as the previous night, as though he was already starting to forget.

Michael pressed kisses to his head and held him close. He had moved to sit next to him on the bed. He made soft hushing noises and Alex was grateful. He felt the anger rising again. At himself. At Michael. But mostly at Caber.

“Why did you stop me?” he asked once the nausea ebbed.

“Like I said yesterday. He would have been too strong. You would have died.”

Alex didn’t respond, not wanting to get into the same argument. He had always been prepared to die to protect people. He lost his leg protecting someone from a vampire and he would happily lose more limbs to rid the world of vampires like Caber.

“I know what you’re thinking. But my first instinct will always be to protect you.” Alex laughed humorlessly.

“That’s technically my instinct too. But you told me I should suppress it,” he pointed out.

“It’s different for me.” Alex snorted.

“How so?” Michael blushed and looked away from him.

“Because I brought you into this life. It’s my job to keep you safe. Besides, if I wasn’t there then you probably would have died that night we met.” Alex fell silent. Would Isobel have killed him? Everything that Michael said seemed to imply that she wouldn’t do something like that.

After a few moments of silence, Alex pulled away from Michael and grabbed his prosthesis. He rolled the sweats to above his knee and began the process of putting it on. He was acutely aware of Michael’s eyes on him but he tried to ignore it.

Once he was done he stood slowly, walking back and forth around the room to make sure he had put it on correctly. Then he rolled the sweats back down to cover it. He met Michael’s eyes and smiled.

“Let me make you some food,” Michael said, standing and offering Alex his hand. He took it and they moved downstairs together.

-

Michael made him pancakes and sausage and Alex would never not be surprised that he could cook so well. They tread carefully around their topics of conversation, wanting to wait until there wasn’t food in danger of going to waste.

Alex insisted on rinsing the dishes because Michael had cooked. But Michael was still intent on making up for attacking him. At least that’s what he assumed. He had grabbed everything before Alex even had time to stand. He had rolled his eyes and just decided to watch him.

His thoughts drifted to their activities in bed and he smiled. He would make sure to wake him up like that more often. His cock twitched and he shifted in his seat.

“Alex. I’m trying to give you a break after yesterday but I’m only a man.” Michael didn’t even look away from the plate he was scrubbing down. Alex felt the heat in his cheeks and tried to think of anything to stop the arousal.

Once the dishes had been placed in the washer, they both moved to the couch. In an effort to keep things serious, Alex sat across from Michael. As opposed to straddling his hips like he wanted to.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me for stopping you yesterday,” Michael started. “But just because we saw him do it doesn’t mean you have evidence right?” Alex nodded.

“It’s unlikely they’ll take my word on anything. Especially considering it’s not a theory they had come up with yet.” He took a breath. “You were right to stop me yesterday. I still disagree with your methods.” Michael looked away from him. “What sacrifice was he performing?” Alex asked. Michael ran a hand over his jaw and shrugged.

“There’s a handful of old rituals that call for sacrifices but they haven’t been used for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. They’re generally regarded to not work.”

“Well what are they?” Michael glanced at him before pushing himself up from the couch. Alex raised an eyebrow as he walked to a bookcase he had never inspected too closely. He ran his finger over the spines of a few books before grabbing one with a green cover. Michael flipped through the pages before handing it to Alex.

“This is just a record of the rituals that have been performed. Most didn’t work.” Alex skimmed through the script that he could barely read. The page seemed to talk about reducing the sensitivity to light.

“But some did?”

“Yes. The one’s that worked,” Michael pulled the book from his hand and flipped to the back, “are here.” He handed it back and there were a total of maybe fifteen rituals. Some of them even seem to be repeated.

Healing Sun Sensitivity Fertility Sun Sensitivity Human Immortality Sun Sensitivity

Alex read over them again and again. None of them sounded like something Caber would be interested in. He ran his finger over the word ‘immortality.’

“There’s a way to turn a human immortal?” Michael swallowed and shook his head, as though he was trying to get rid of bad memory.

“This is just a list of rituals that worked. That doesn’t mean it went well. It requires a horrific amount of sacrifices and the human killed themselves after finding out.” Alex couldn’t even imagine how many people were required.

“What about this sun thing? It’s done the most.”

“It’s repeated every few hundred years. How do you think I can go outside without burning to ash. It’s a… less intense… ritual. Only requires a few people.” Alex’s eyes snapped up to Michael, appalled at the way he talked like their lives didn’t matter. “Alex. I can promise you that we only use the worst of the worst for it. That one’s not picky with who’s blood is used.”

Alex swallowed. He believed Michael that they picked horrible people for the sacrifice. But his stomach still turned at the thought. Some of the rituals had requirements. Was it something stereotypical like women virgins? Or were there other specifications. He shook his head and flipped through the pages more.

“None of those sound like something Caber would want.” Michael took the book from his hand again. “Hey—” Michael pressed his mouth to Alex’s to silence any protest. It didn’t linger long but it was enough to leave him wanting.

“I will help you with this. Isobel and Max both have books with more information. We have a week right?” Alex nodded. It didn’t sound like much time to him but Michael seemed confident.

“I just want to keep you safe,” Alex mumbled. Michael smiled and cradled his face in his hands.

“I know.”

-

Michael was right when he said that Isobel and Max had more resources. They both brought by more dusty old books than he had ever seen outside of an actual library. Isobel had even hung around most days to help them. Alex was not spared the lecture that he was sure Michael had heard already.

“Look. I don’t know what Michael told you but these kinds of relationships almost never end well. Someone will end up hurt or dead. I love Michael and I don’t want him getting killed because you decide you hate vampires after all.” Alex chose his own words carefully.

“I care about Michael. I’m trying to clear his name so people stop coming after him,” he insisted. She glared at him, as though trying to determine if he was telling her the truth.

“You’re smart, Manes. I don’t have to tell you that I could kill you if you so much as breathe the wrong way.” Alex hoped the fear that made a chill run down his spine didn’t show on his face. She sighed and pulled out her phone. She tapped a few times before she turned the phone to show him a picture.

He looked at a photo of Caber with a new girl. Happy and seemingly all heart eyes for her. The nausea returned. Isobel scrolled and showed another girl. Then another.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on him since that night Michael said you saw the sacrifice. I’ll send these to you. It’s not definitive proof but it should be enough to get the police to look into it right?” Alex was dumbfounded. She had done that for them? Maybe it was more accurate to say she had done it for Michael. She cleared her throat and he realized he hadn’t answered her.

“Uh, yea. It should be enough. Thank you,” he said. “These girls haven’t been reported missing or dead yet. If they had, the police would already be on the porch. I’ll run over there now.”

Before he had time to stand, the front door opened and Michael rushed in and slammed it behind him. Alex would have asked a question but there was a pounding on the door.

“Your friend is on me again. Claiming that I broke the deal.” Alex’s eyes widened and he rushed to the door. One of the girls had turned up. He looked back at Isobel. She wasn’t part of this but if she was seen with Michael, she might be pulled into it.

“Stay out of sight,” he ordered her.

Alex pulled the door open just enough to squeeze out. He didn’t think before shoving Kyle back and glaring.

“What are you doing here? I have two more days.”

“That was only if no one else turned up dead. But your little pet or whatever killed another girl.” Alex shook his head and felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

“No. He’s been with me the whole time!”

“Oh really? He wasn’t with you just now when I found him.” Kyle spoke like he won and Alex fumed. The accusation was meant to trip him up. He had used it on suspects before.

“Listen to me Kyle. He didn’t do this. But I know who did. If you’d let me come with you to the station then I could show the chief too.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and saw three attachments from an unregistered number that he assumed was Isobel. He clicked on the message to the three pictures she had sent and handed his phone to Kyle. “Look. This is the guy you should be focused on. His name is Caber.”

Kyle clicked through the photos. Alex saw him swallow and clench his fist around his phone. He shoved the device back against Alex’s chest.

“Send these to me and I can look into it. The chief will be back in two days and you better have something we can act on.” He stormed back to his car and Alex watched him until he disappeared around the corner. Only then did he let his shoulders relax.

He opened the door again to Michael and Isobel sitting on the couch. They talked in hushed voices, Isobel glaring at Michael. They stopped talking when the door clicked shut again. Michael stood again and moved to wrap his arm around Alex’s shoulders.

“Look, Alex is doing everything he can. If you insist on helping why don’t you seduce that cop?” Alex raised an eyebrow as he looked between the siblings.

“He is hot,” she said in a curious voice.

“Do me a favor and don’t kill him,” Alex replied half as a joke. He would be lying if he said that it wasn’t something he was concerned about.

“Oh honey, no. Just want to take him for a ride. You can bet that he won’t hate vampires after that,” she said, smirking. Alex chuckled and looked over at Michael who had a disgusted look on his face.

“Thanks for the gross image, now get out,” Michael said, gesturing to the door. Isobel rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll be back when I figure out where the next sacrifice is. I trust you two can keep yourself occupied until then.” Alex felt the heat on his cheeks from the suggestion. She seemed to float out of the house and he and Michael were alone again.

Michael ran his hands over Alex’s shoulders, rubbing circles into his muscles. He sighed and let himself relax back against Michael’s chest. He ran his mouth over his neck as he rubbed, kissing softly. As much as Alex wanted to let this continue, he still had things to do.

“Michael, I have to send some emails. Not to mention I have to try and narrow down the search area for Isobel.” Michael just hummed and sucked gently at his pulse point. Alex moaned softly and let his head roll to the side. He cursed Michael for being so good at distractions.

It took all of his will power to pull himself away from his wandering hands and mouth. Michael pouted and grabbed his arms again. Alex stood his ground and gave him a disapproving look.

“You’ve done nothing but work all week. It’s ok to take a break.” Alex just sighed.

“Working on a way to save your life might I remind you,” he said.

“I feel like I should be insulted that you think I wouldn’t be able to get away from that little police force.” Alex couldn’t help but crack a grin. Michael made fun of him often for the education the academy provided.

“I’ll feel better when I’ve cleared your name.” Michael watched him for a moment before releasing his arms. Alex smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then he made his way over to his open laptop at the kitchen table.

The house was mostly silent for about twenty minutes apart from Michael moving around upstairs. Alex sent the pictures to Kyle and was searching through the police data base to see if there were any patterns to where the victims were found. He marked another red dot on the map for the most recent discovery.

They had sent Isobel and Max to the sewer area where he and Michael had witnessed the sacrifice but there was no indication that Caber had been back since then. If the rituals were moving around, then there must be a pattern. He had always hated ‘connect the dots’ but it’s what his map was turning into.

He was so focused on his map that he didn’t hear Michael come downstairs. In fact he had no idea he was nearby at all until he felt a pair of hands running over his thighs under the table. He jumped slightly and pushed his chair back so he could look down.

Michael just grinned up at him, trying to play innocent. Alex could only watch as he nuzzled his thigh and traced his nose up to where his cock was tucked. Excitement made him twitch under the attention. Michael kissed him through the fabric of his sweats and Alex shuddered.

“Can I ask what you’re doing?” Alex said sarcastically.

“I’m doing nothing. Feel free to keep working,” he replied almost innocently. Alex rolled his eyes and tried to ignore him, reading through the reports again.

Michael’s hands wandered, squeezing and rubbing his legs and thighs. His mouth was focused on gently teasing the outline of Alex’s cock that was slowly hardening. Michael ran his hands up and hooked his fingers in the waist of his sweats. He tugged gently and Alex considered making difficult for him but was more content letting him have his way. He lifted himself and Michael slipped his sweats down his legs and eventually off.

Alex scrolled to the next page of information as Michael’s breath hit his skin. Soft kisses landed on the inside of his thigh and traveled upward at a torturously slow pace. Right as Alex thought he would feel the warm wet of his mouth around him, he moved to the other side, avoiding his now annoying erection completely.

He read the same line for the fifth time as Michael kissed up his other thigh and nibbled at a spot that made him whimper. Alex looked down at his fingers on the keyboard as they trembled. He clenched his fists and demanded his brain focus on the task at hand. But Michael was making it hard to ignore him.

He tapped a few letters into the search bar before Michael was breathing right next to his cock, making it twitch. He ran his lips over him lightly, barely touching at all. Alex dug his nails into his palms and tried to read another sentence.

“You didn’t even ask where I was earlier,” Michael said sweetly from between his legs.

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to.” Alex cursed the way his voice shook.

“I got you a present. Of sorts.” The way he said it made his skin burn. It was then Michael wrapped his mouth around him. Alex’s hands flew from the keys to his hair. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs wider.

Michael worked him slowly, using his tongue to tease the tip while his hands roamed. One moved to cup his balls and run a finger over his ass. Alex’s hips rolled slightly at the stimulation. He pulled on Michael’s hair and felt the rumble of his groan around him.

“The present isn’t this torture right?” Alex gasped out. Michael released him with a wet sound that made Alex tug on his hair again.

“No, it’s not. But I thought I was being nice.” Alex looked down at him in time to watch him drag his tongue from the base of his cock to the head before swallowing him again. His hips jerked up and he moaned loudly.

“What made you think this was nice,” he scolded halfheartedly. He saw the glimmer of mischief in his eyes as he pushed a finger into his ass, making Alex squirm. Michael refused to answer him as he took his cock in until it hit the back of his throat. Alex cursed and let his head fall back again.

Michael picked up the pace and Alex was spiraling fast. The finger in his ass moved in time with the bobbing of Michael’s head. It occasionally curved to just brush over his prostate. The chair he was sitting on squeaked every time his hips rocked forward.

Michael pushed the chair back so he wasn’t under the table anymore. He grabbed Alex’s leg and lifted it over his shoulder. He repeated the same process with the other leg. Alex called out as the finger inside him curved up again. He gripped the edge of the chair to keep himself steady.

“Oh fuck,” Alex moaned out. Michael was too good at this. He sucked harder and Alex was sure he would be content letting him do this forever. His body screamed for more as Michael’s tongue swirled around the tip of his leaking cock. He teetered on the edge of orgasm and he wanted to move but Michael had him pinned.

“Michael please,” he begged. The fingers inside him spread open to make sure he was prepped. Michael took his cock to the back of his throat once, twice… then pulled off. Alex whimpered as he backed away, smirk on his face.

“I need you sensitive,” he said smugly. Alex’s cock throbbed as he tried to glare at Michael who swept him up in his arms.

Michael carried Alex to his bedroom and the smell of rain and lavender overwhelmed him. The room was dark except for the candles scattered about. Alex’s mouth opened but no words came out. How was he supposed to react? His heart pounded in his chest as his emotions ran wild. Then Michael spoke next to his ear.

“Who said I wasn’t a romantic?” His tone was teasing and he set Alex down on the bed. His hand ran over Alex’s face gently.

“What is all this?” Alex asked nervously. The little light the candles actually provided was enough to see his wicked smile. Michael grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it off him. He tossed it to the side before grabbing his throat and squeezing.

“I’m going to remind your body exactly who it belongs to.” It didn’t answer his question but he didn’t care. He trusted Michael.

He tugged Alex’s hands forward and positioned them as though he were praying. He walked to the other side of the room and pulled something out of a bag. When he stood in front of him again, he could make out the braiding of rope. Alex’s cock jumped as he remembered the way some people had been suspended at the club.

He had almost forgotten his desperation and need in the surprise of the candles. His hormones hit him full force and his hips rocked on the bed. Michael wrapped the rope around his wrists in a figure eight, occasionally tugging to make sure it wasn’t too tight. Alex thought about squirming to see his reaction but it was too late for that.

Michael pushed him back on the bed and pulled his arms up by the rope, tying the ends around the headboard. The rope was soft but if he pulled too much, there would be marks on his wrists.

“I feel like I should be concerned that you knew how to do that so efficiently,” Alex teased. He heard Michael chuckle in response.

“Isobel taught me a long time ago. She claimed it would be ‘good to know.’” Once Michael was satisfied with the knot he traced his hands down over Alex’s body, making him squirm. He pulled but the rope held him mostly in place. Michael made quick work of his prosthesis and Alex couldn’t help but smile at how good he had gotten at it. He didn’t get to dwell on the sweet thought for long before Michael was back to his torture.

Alex’s hips rolled as Michael’s nails scratched lightly at his hips before one hand wrapped around his aching cock. He moaned and pulled at his ropes again, whining when they didn’t move.

“Makes it harder to be a brat doesn’t it?” His breath caught in his throat as he looked down his body to where Michael was unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and stroking Alex with the other. Alex rocked his hips into Michael’s fist a few times before he released him. He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and crawled onto the bed, hovering above Alex.

“I need you,” Alex begged. Michael traced his finger over Alex’s lips before slipping a couple over his tongue.

“I know what you need, baby,” he said tauntingly. Alex’s hips rolled as Michael dragged his fingers from his mouth and down his body, nails scratching his skin. “You’ll only feel what I want you to.”

Michael vanished from above him and Alex tugged on the ropes, needing some kind of stimulation. His hips jerked up into nothing. He whimpered out Michael’s name and heard him chuckle. He watched as Michael picked up one of the small white candles and carried it back to the bed slowly. He met Alex’s gaze.

“Stay very still for me.” Alex could only nod in response, unsure if he would actually be able to keep the promise.

Michael tipped the candle and poured the wax into his palm. He closed his fist slowly and opened it again before the wax could harden. Then he placed his hand over Alex’s chest and he hissed in surprise. It wasn’t ‘hot’ per say but the warmth seemed to spread throughout his body.

The wax cooled quickly as Michael pulled his hand away. Alex’s muscles in his arms flexed as he tugged at the ropes. Michael leaved over his face and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, avoiding touching any other part of his body.

“How did that feel?” he mumbled against his lips. Alex’s body shook with need but he forced himself to answer anyway.

“Warm. Nice.” His voice was breathy.

“Good. Now close your eyes,” he ordered gently. Alex did as he was told and his skin buzzed as he felt Michael’s breath travel down his body.

He jerked when Michael flicked his nipple with his tongue. He could feel the precum leaking from his cock as it rolled down his length. Michael didn’t focus on his nipple for long before he pulled away. Alex was tempted to crack open his eyes and peak.

A sharp burn hit his sternum. It rolled down towards his navel as his back arched and he cried out. The heat rippled over his skin as though it was Michael’s venom but it eventually cooled. His breath left him in small gasps as he felt Michael’s fingers trace the same path as the heat.

Alex’s cock jumped again and he rolled his hips. He needed to be filled. He needed the relief.

“Michael, please,” he whimpered out.

“Have a little patience. Doesn’t this feel good?” His voice was next to his ear, making him shudder.

“It’s too much,” Alex panted.

“Oh but we’re just getting started,” Michael taunted.

Alex could see the flickering of the candle behind his eyelids. Michael’s finger traced over his jaw and chin, tilting his head back. Alex expected a kiss.

His arms yanked on the ropes as an intense burn settled in the hollow of his throat. He squeaked out a moan that was swallowed by Michael’s lips. His cock begged for stimulation as it twitched and leaked. The wax ran out from the dip in his throat and over his neck. Michael pulled away and dragged his fingers through the wax and over Alex’s collarbone.

The wax hadn’t cooled before the burned started on his sternum again. This time it ran all the way down to his navel and Alex couldn’t help but squirm. He heard Michael chuckle.

“Am I going to have to tie your legs down just to keep you still?” A hot drop splattered over his abs near his hips. He gasped and felt the rope rub welts into his skin as he pulled. Michael’s fingers, covered in hot wax, ran over his bicep and Alex’s hips jerked up again.

“I need you to fuck me Michael. Please, I’m begging.” Michael just repeated the same movement over his other arm.

“Not yet,” he said, voice sweeter than honey. Alex could visualize the smirk that he would be wearing. His tongue would be running over his canines, taunting him with the idea that he might bite him.

Another hot drop splattered on his hips and upper thighs. His legs shook as he tried to stay still. If he moved too much, the wax would run between his legs. He moaned as Michael poured a long line of heat over his other thigh and down to his knee. Alex moaned.

“Michael,” he whispered out, voice shaking.

His cock throbbed again and every part of his body felt like it was on fire. He imagined Michael between his legs as another pool of wax was poured over his thighs, closer to where his legs connected to his pelvis than before.

Alex called out as his hips rocked more, making the wax drip down and over his ass. The heat continued to burn through him and on his skin. He imagined Michael bending his knees back and thrusting into him raw.

Every rough movement would hit just the right place. He would fist his own cock until Michael replaced Alex’s hand with his own. He would bend over him before sinking his fangs into the mark and Alex would grab at his back, leaving red scratches.

“Alex,” Michael panted out next to his ear. Another hot drop hit his pelvis and Alex’s body spasmed.

“Fuck, Michael!” His cock jerked and cum shot over him, mixing with the still cooling wax. His orgasm moved through him in waves, all as Michael whispered in his ear.

“Good boy… good boy… All mine. You’re all mine…”

As Alex came down, the wax cracked on his skin with movement. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head, looking for Michael. The other candles around the room made sharp angles on his face but he could still see the gentle smile.

Alex lifted his head as much as he could and Michael met him halfway, pressing their mouths together sweetly. Fangs caught his lip and he sighed happily. Michael stood slowly and undid the buckle on his belt. Alex drooled at the way he popped the button. He pushed his jeans down in full view of Alex who’s cock twitched again.

Precum glistened on the head of Michael’s cock as his wrapped his hand around himself and stroked a few times. Then he was moving to grab the lube from the dresser and slicking himself up with the hand not covered in wax. Alex rocked his hips slightly and Michael smiled as he settled between his legs.

He pressed two cool fingers against his hole and pushed them inside easily. Alex’s toes curled and he rolled his hips. Michael scissored his fingers a few times before pulling them out and pressing the head of his cock inside instead. Alex sighed and clenched his fists that were still restrained above him.

“Fuck baby. I’m not going to last long,” Michael said, running his hands over Alex’s thighs and hips. He rolled his hips again and looked up at him, pleading.

“That’s ok. Use me however you need.” Alex rolled his head to the side, making it clear that he really meant what he said. Whatever he needed. He glanced at Michael again, noting the glowing red of his eyes.

Michael thrust his hips forward, burying himself inside Alex. Alex’s mouth dropped open in a silent moan. He felt Michael bend over him and there was a tearing sound as his hands were freed.

As soon as his arms weren’t blocking the mark, Michael’s head was buried in his neck, kissing and licking the mark before biting. Alex’s eyes rolled back as he wrapped his arms around Michael, digging his nails into his skin.

Michael’s hips started to slam into him with little restraint. Alex could hardly make a noise as his own oversensitive cock rubbed against Michael’s abs. He dragged his nails down over Michael’s skin, feeling the growl it elicited from him.

Michael fucked him roughly as he licked away the blood from his throat. Alex could feel the throbbing as he did his best to match Michael’s thrusts. He moaned louder with every move and could feel a second orgasm building fast.

Michael’s fingers dug into his hips as he guided the movement of Alex’s hips. His tongue pressed the wounds closed before he sat up and grabbed Alex’s legs, bending them back so Alex was spread wide.

“Ah—fuck!” Alex grabbed himself and stroked, watching Michael’s face.

His heart raced as he watched Michael’s look of pure ecstasy. He was so attentive. So sweet. Smart. Snarky. Helpful. Devoted. Perfect. Loving…

Alex’s mind went blank as Michael adjusted his hips again to rub against the sweet spot on every thrust. He called out Michael’s name over and over again, more breathless every time until it was just noises of pleasure. Alex twisted his free hand into the sheets and gripped his own cock harder.

“Gunna… cum…” he managed to moan out between noises. Michael grunted above him and any rhythm he had left was gone as he slammed into him.

“Cum with me, baby,” Michael encouraged, breathless. A few hard thrusts later, Alex was shooting another line of cum onto his abs and chest as Michael filled him. Michael ground his hips against Alex’s ass and it only served to drag out both of their orgasms.

Eventually Michael pulled himself out and collapsed beside Alex. He removed the rope from Alex’s wrists but they were clearly bruised. Michael kissed the welts and held Alex’s hands to his chest as his eyes drifted closed.

Alex watched him, knowing he wasn’t asleep. He traced the lines of Michael’s face with his eyes. His heart thumped in his chest and he was sure Michael could hear it, though he never said anything.

The wax on Alex’s body cracked and fell off as he shifted closer to Michael. He gently tugged one of his hands out of Michael’s and ran his fingers over the scratchy stubble along his jaw and cheek. His eyes opened again and they just stared at each other for a moment.

Alex was the one to lean in, kissing him more gently than they ever had before. There was no rush and no desperation in the way their lips pressed together. Everything felt easy with Michael. Even though there was all this outside drama, being with Michael was the only thing that felt right now.

He thought back to old books and poems. Every description of falling in love was defined by a moment. Maybe it was sudden. Maybe it was slow. But this was his moment. In the way their lips moved, hands touched, and the completeness of his heart.

I love you.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Whether It Works Out Or Not Part Three

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome kids, welcome to the conclusion! I hope you've liked this little foray into the Wild West. Enjoy!

[Spoiler warning for the first three chapters of the game!]

Tag List: @huliabitch​ @cookiethewriter​ @pedrosbigdorkenergy​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @anonymouscosmos​ @culturalrebel​ @karmezii​ @teaofpeach​ @crookedmoonsaultpunk​ @wrestlingfae​ @zombiexbody​ @nelba​ @gabrielle1776​ @toxiicpop​ @mstgsmy​ @misty-possum​

Part One: Strangers

Part Two: Friends

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains unprotected sex, historical inaccuracies and allusions to previous abuse. Stay safe!]

If he had so glibly dubbed Linton perishing of pneumonia as bad business, he dreaded to come up with a term for whatever Irene had gone through. Christ, spousal discipline. A victim of the so-called 'gentlemen' that brought their wives to heel with the rod, coverture at its goddamn finest. It had always made Arthur's chest tight, made him see red, had him raring to give them a taste of their own medicine despite Dutch's constant preaching about an eye for an eye only makes the world blind.

Womenfolk, for all Arthur's troubles with one in particular, deserved to be seen and heard as much as anyone else. Shit, from a biblical standpoint they were supposed to be cherished, protected, defended if they needed it. Arthur was not a pious man by any stretch; the blood on his hands had him thoroughly convinced of his prime spot in Hell come Judgement Day. But if he needed to resort to thumping the good book to get his point across, he damn well would. Fine gentlemen may not fear overmuch the wrath of one Arthur Morgan, yet they certainly feared for the salvation of their wretched, mealy little souls.

Irene's brown eyes were dark and surprisingly dry as she watched him watch her, the tales she told painting the late Mr. Carson as no man, but a fiend in man's clothing. 

Arthur felt a lump form in his throat when she spoke of selling off her damn hair just so she could get free of that bastard. It was clear that after what she had suffered, nearly dying on the side of a mountain was a veritable paradise. She'd had to learn everything the hard way, taking all that she had read about and painstakingly putting it into practice. That she was still alive was a goddamn miracle. A miracle that Arthur didn't feel like testing the charity of. Providence had kept her safe thus far, but just how damn long did she expect that to hold? 

What if someone else had found her in that trap? What if he hadn't been hunting that bear? Hell, what if one of those boys from Lemoyne had come across her bathing today? Arthur gritted his teeth. Granted, she wasn't defenseless, not by a long shot, but lone wolves didn't tend to last out in the wilds. It had been sheer coincidence that nothing far worse had happened.

"Come back to camp with me." He interrupted her to offer, his voice rough. "I...me an' the gang, we can keep you safe there. You ain't gotta' live like this anymore, that feller's dead. He can't come to drag you back to that...misery."

She shook her head, her smile sad. "I've been on my own for too long, Arthur. I'm used to it."

"Please." He begged. "I don't...if...look, I...I don't want you to…" he trailed off, frustrated by his inability to articulate the confusing emotions roiling in his chest. "Hell, I dunno'." He muttered, shoving the toe of his boot into the dirt. "Scared for you, I guess."

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"What if it wasn't me?" He retorted. "What if every time, it was-"

"It was you, though." Irene interjected softly. "I won't deny that our paths crossing again and again seems like fate, or divine intervention."

Arthur huffed out a breath. "I s'pose, but-"

"You needed someone to listen, and I needed someone to show me kindness."

"Well sure, but-"

"If you had bedded me in Valentine, would that have satisfied your curiosity?" Irene inquired primly. "Nipped your fascination in the bud?"

"Shit, no." Arthur finally managed to get a word in edgewise, shaking his head. "I...you seemed real sweet. Pretty. Sad, in a secret way. I wanted...but then you said all those things and I...I ain't never met a woman that seemed to see me like how you did, Miss Irene. Most folks just see what they can get outta' me."

"I always saw you, Arthur. From the first time we met on the side of that mountain." Irene told him, her voice gone soft once more. "I saw your smile, and your beautiful eyes, and the way you were willing to help. It made me want to help you too."

"M-My--? Shucks, ma'am, I ain't...I mean my eyes is...uh." Arthur yanked at the collar of his shirt. Despite it being unbuttoned, he suddenly felt as though it was too tight. "Well, you're one to talk about beautiful eyes!" He blustered, feeling his gut twist when she looked surprised of all things. "What, ain't anyone ever said somethin' nice to you before? You got nice eyes! And a good heart! Smart words, too, you're intelligent! Shit--I mean, shoot, sorry, ain't tryin' to swear in front of you." He rushed to apologize, worrying at the brim of his hat. "I'm just off-balance is all, ma'am, forgive me."

She waved off his apology, laughing. "Don't be so uptight, Arthur! It's still me."

"But it ain't, that's the thing. I…" he paused yet again, fumbling in his satchel for his journal. "I-I haven't stopped thinkin' of you, Miss Irene. What I'd say if I ever ran into you again." Opening the book to the first sketch of her, he turned it around so she could see. "I never came up with anythin', though. Aside from 'thank you'."

Instead of staying where she was, she approached and sat down alongside him. Those fingers, just as reverential as the first time 'Frank' had seen his sketches, ran down the lines of her face on the page.

They weren't perfect. His memory of her had been blurry with drink and many of his sketches had been scribbled out or erased into gray smudges in frustration. "They're beautiful." She whispered.

"No, you're beautiful." Arthur murmured before he could think better of it. "Nothin' that I could make would ever do you justice, Miss Irene."

She was flushed already from the fire, her hair slowly drying into a wild mess of sun-streaked curls that he longed to run his fingers through. "I wouldn't say that." She tried to deflect his words, smiling shyly down at her hands.

She had been married. Her acting like what he was doing was something new had Arthur damn near distressed. He cupped her chin with his hand, keeping his touch as light as he could bear while he tipped her face up to look at him. "I would."

"You would?" Her tongue darted out to soothe her dry lips, stirring a half-forgotten memory in his mind of her making some sound into his mouth as he kissed her. 

"I sure would." He drawled, tilting his head and lowering his mouth to hers. The little whimper that came out of her settled in his abdomen. Was this a bad idea? Probably. "Take the shirt off."

"You told me to put it on!" 

"And now, I'm askin' you to take it off." Arthur growled, pressing his mouth against the shell of her ear and breathing, "please."

Irene shivered all over, clinging to his hands like she was trying to keep her composure. Lord knew Arthur's own composure had never been particularly ironclad. She finally released him, her fingers trembling when she reached for the hem of the shirt.

"Easy girl, only if you want to." Arthur pressed a kiss to her cheek, "only if you're willin'. I ain't so brash to believe that you bein' alright with this one time before means that you'd be okay with it now."

"You…" Irene hesitated. "I've never been allowed to say no, Arthur."

Oh, Jesus, that hurt. "Well now you can. Any time. Right now, in the middle, whenever." He forced the words out past his muted, secondhand horror. "I'll stop. I'm not...this ain't about somebody gettin' hurt, okay? This is...I'm tryin' to make you feel good. That's all I want."

Irene squinted up at him, her disbelief evident. "So...it can be good? That's not just something they put in the books so women don't decide to never get bedded?"

Oh Jesus. "Oh, Jesus." Arthur scrubbed helplessly over his stubble with one hand, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't come off as terrifying or lecherous. "So, you...b-but you was married." He floundered. 

"Yes?" 

"He ain't...I mean you never-?"

"I have never been kissed like you kissed me before, if that answers your question."

"Well, yes and no. I-I reckon yes." Arthur stammered. "Alright, let me...I'll pitch my tent and we'll have a lie down and I'll...I-I guess I'll do my damnedest."

Jesus, he needed a minute. Just a momentary reprieve while he fumbled to unlash the canvas from Chase's back. Christ, his mind was going like Hell's wheels. She had never known pleasure from lying with a man. Never. To the point where she thought it was fabricated. One more nail in that devil's coffin, he supposed. Lord, Arthur prayed he was up for this. 

She wanted to help him set up the tent and Arthur had to laugh, his nerves easing a bit at the petulant way she demanded to hold the guylines taut for him. "It's ungentlemanly for me to expect you to help out with stuff like this," he tried to explain.

"If you start pulling some nonsense about how I'm a delicate flower, you will regret it." Irene informed him firmly. "I haven't gotten this far to be treated like glass, Mister Arthur."

"Well, you certainly wasn't protestin' that treatment in Valentine." He chuckled, watching her face go bright red.

"I-I was caught off-guard, that's all! Fell back into old habits!" 

"Oh shoah." He shrugged, still grinning. Thunder rumbled in the distance and he quickly opened up the tent flap with a broad, sweeping bow. "After you, ma'am."

She smiled at him and Arthur was hard-pressed to think of a prettier sight than that, the woman sidling past him to enter the tent after she had gathered up her still-damp things. 

Arthur Morgan did not consider himself a good man. He did not consider himself a particularly smart man either. But every once in a while even his life could pan out with gratifying and interesting results. Such as an attractive woman who had been masquerading as an attractive man ending up in his tent, waiting on him to show her the...primitive ecstasies of the flesh. 

He took his time before joining her however, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette and scan the perimeter of the grove, an idle hand on his revolver. 

He definitely wasn't stalling. Definitely wasn't trying to compose himself before he got out of pocket with her. But Jesus, what he would love to do if she was willing! 

The sunlight began to wane as the clouds rolled in and Arthur stubbed out his cigarette, carefully saving the remainder for later. No telling when he'd get his hands on a fresh pack, and the last chew he'd indulged in had been so strong it nearly burned a hole in his lower lip. Better to stick to the sticks.

He entered the tent to find Irene sitting cross-legged on her bedroll, still in his shirt (and Lord, that was a whole other article that he needed to address about himself), and she looked up at him expectantly as he ducked his head so he didn't bump the side of the tent. "Was just makin' sure everythin' is safe, Miss Irene." He explained, tying the tent flaps together. Arthur then began the process of unbuckling his holster belt, carefully hanging it from the support by the door. He had only stayed alive this long because Hosea had taught him to always have a revolver within reach. "You nervous?" He asked conversationally while he dropped his hat by the door.

"Perhaps a bit." Irene replied, her truthful words giving him pause. "I am optimistic, however."

"I ain't gonna' hurt you, but you need to be honest with me, okay? Won't hurt my feelin's none if you tell me you don't like somethin'." Arthur assured her, "I can adapt."

"Thank you, Arthur."

Oh Jesus, there it was again. Like a hot brick in his stomach, an intoxicating combination of wariness and arousal. He knelt beside her, tangling his fingers greedily through her short, thick curls. He could feel her trembling slightly, which was...sobering. "Ain't gonna' hurt you." He soothed, making a shushing noise. "Ain't gonna' hurt you. You're okay."

Wide brown eyes stared up at him and Irene nodded slowly.

"You trust me, Miss Irene?" Arthur asked quietly. 

Another nod.

"Good." Arthur cupped her face and crushed their mouths together without further ceremony. She gasped into his mouth, her hands finding purchase on his chest where she proceeded to cling to him. He only vaguely remembered how she had reacted to his kiss before, her body threatening to collapse against his own in that cramped little garret that the Saints Hotel considered a rentable room. 

"Arthur," she breathed shakily, kissing him at an almost fevered speed. "Is this really how it's supposed to be?" 

"Is it good?"

"Oh yes, so good, I-"

"That's the important part sorted, then. Rest'll take care of itself." Arthur nibbled on her lower lip, his teeth gentle in case she needed to pull away. If anything though, she pressed closer. He was pleasantly surprised when she timidly slipped him her tongue, illustrating his enthusiastic approval by welcoming it with his own. "Can I touch you?" He gasped against her lips, his forehead resting on her own. They were fully in each other's space now, but he knew that could change in an instant. 

"Please, please." Irene begged, clutching his hands.

"Can I take off the shirt? Can I see you?" was his next question, loaded as it was. 

"I…" Irene paused. "I don't know if...you'd want to, honestly."

"Oh believe me, I want." Arthur insisted. "If you want, I want." 

"Just like that?"

"Don't need to be any more complicated than that, ma'am." Arthur kept his hands still. "Just a little heavy pettin' even, if that's all you're lookin' for. But I can make you feel real good."

"Heavy petting?" Her brow furrowed. "I'm...unfamiliar, Mister Arthur."

"Yeah, y'know, heavy pettin'. You kinda' just...I mean you uh. Touch. A lot. Usually." He struggled to explain, again finding himself walking the line of trying not to scare her while still giving her the information she sought. "Demonstration? I ain't so good at this." He finally suggested ruefully.

Irene nodded and Arthur drew his index fingers over her collarbone, framing it briefly before he slipped further down. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he cupped her breasts through the undershirt, letting their weight rest in his palms.

He had to clear his throat before he spoke next. "Okay?" Irene nodded, her expression almost laughably serious. "I'm gonna' move my thumbs now. Just gentle, no pinchin'." Arthur informed her. "You let me know if that's okay."

"Mmhm." She inhaled sharply the second he grazed over her nipples, a little hiccup leaving her. Arthur had never encountered that particular reaction and he lingered in the same spot, swiping his thumbs back and forth across the soft mounds of her breasts. He felt her body begin to react, her nipples waking underneath his touch. 

"Okay?" He rasped, his throat dry all of a sudden. Irene looked...drowsy, almost, the woman biting her lower lip and just watching his hands move. 

"Feels good." She whispered. "I...I think I like it?"

"You ain't sure yet? Want me to stop?"

Arthur barely got the question out before she said, "no!", flushing immediately afterwards. "I-I mean no, please...please keep going?" She requested, not meeting his eyes. 

He chuckled, "okay then. Just relax. I've got you, Miss Irene." Her hands fumbled for purchase on his suspenders and Arthur was delighted when she shoved them off over his shoulders, the woman whimpering as he removed his hands from her briefly to slip out of the loops. "Shh, I'm right here." Arthur murmured, returning to his previous ministrations.

"I don't know what to do." Irene breathed, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "What do I do, Arthur? Can't j-just--" her voice hitched, fingers digging into his upper arms as he continued to gently stroke her. "Sit here, not doing anything."

"Lemme' take care of you for a l'il bit, okay?" The older man offered softly. At his insistence, she laid back, propping herself up on her elbows and then gifting him a tender little cry when he dipped his head to mouth and tease at one of her nipples through the shirt's thin fabric. 

Rain began to patter on the tent's canvas roofing, dulling the sounds of the surrounding woodlands. It was like a curtain being drawn, shielding Arthur from the outside and narrowing his world down to nothing but the woman currently arching her entire body up in search of his mouth. Irene reached for him blindly, her hands so delicate in his own when he laced their fingers together and pressed his lips back to her breast through the shirt's material.

She writhed beneath him, little noises of desperation issuing from her without much preamble. It was as if she was starved for touch. In a way, Arthur supposed dimly, they both were. Her guarding her secret, trying her hardest to be cautious and he keeping his own secrets, trying to work around the blatant duality of his existence. 

We're thieves in a world that don't want us no more. 

But here, here, in this sheltered glade, the two of them might find a moment of reprieve. A haven.

Irene grasped at the hem of the shirt, going to tug it over her head and immediately getting stuck because she hadn't unbuttoned it first. The woman thrashed, nearly elbowing Arthur in the face, and he couldn't help the way his laughter exploded out of him. "Whoa there! Easy, hold on." He said, lending her a hand to unbutton the shirt from the inside so she could get it over her head safely.

She was breathless from giggling by the time they managed to free her from the shirt's clutches, and Arthur had to kiss her again. Tentatively her hands traveled up the back of his neck and found their way to his shaggy hair. She tugged, making him rumble into her mouth. "You wanted to see me?" Irene asked shyly, and Arthur realized she was trying to display some sort of willingness. 

"If it's alright, ma'am, I would." He murmured, keeping his eyes on hers. She nodded and Arthur gave her a gentle peck on the lips before drawing back, settling onto his knees so he could really take in the sight. 

Outside he had done his best not to ogle. Which had been incredibly difficult. But Arthur Morgan wasn't some skin-hungry yearling, and he could usually determine when to avert his eyes. 

In the twilight of the tent she was a damn vision. He reached out and cupped the back of her calf, palming the curve of the muscle that lurked beneath the skin when he moved her leg to open her up just a bit. She was strong, forged of stubborn steel. His eyes traveled up, lingering on the thatch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Further up to her breasts, pebbled with gooseflesh and no doubt still feeling the echoes of his mouth. Her collarbone had been so delicate under his hands, like some fanciful artisan’s filigree. That throat, Lord, to tarry there and cover her skin with reminders of him would be heaven-! His eyes shifted to her freckled shoulders, the area littered with old scars. Arthur had the sneaking suspicion that her back would have borne the brunt of what she had gone through.

He wished he could stop time itself and sketch her just like this.

"You're beautiful." He mumbled, only half-aware that he was even speaking. Irene squirmed, covering her face, but Arthur gently caught one of her hands and tugged it away. "Irene, you're beautiful." He repeated, a little louder.

"You...you don't mean that, Arthur." She replied weakly. 

"Oh yes I do, ma'am." He insisted, her pulse thundering against his lips when he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Can I…may I?" 

Irene nodded rapidly, her head falling back when Arthur spread her legs. He abruptly felt like a starving man at a banquet table. Her cunt was flushed pink, honest, glistening with the slick of her arousal. Her thighs trembled against his forearms. 

Jesus. 

Arthur rubbed a palm across his face, trying to judge whether his stubble might be a bit too aggressive for the obviously sensitive area. "Hey, I…I'm gonna' try somethin', okay? You let me know if…" he trailed off when he looked up and saw her with her arm over her eyes, hiding from him again. Her cheeks were ruddy, whether from embarrassment or excitement he was uncertain. "Irene? Look at me." He implored, reaching out to tip her chin down. "You're okay, it's okay."

She hesitantly put her arm down, biting her lip. "Nervous," was all she said.

"You want me to stop?" Arthur asked, hating the way she still looked surprised. "I will stop."

"No, I just...I'm not used to it being so…" Irene paused, clearly searching for the correct word. "Gentle."

Arthur groaned, "you're killin' me woman. Tell me if you ain't likin' what I'm doin'." He sank down between her legs, urging her up a little on the bedroll so he could lay on his belly. Jesus, he was lost. She was shaking under his touch, quivering just from his kisses on her inner thighs. Arthur continued to make soft noises in his throat, trying to keep her calm as he worked his way higher. 

"A-Arthur?" Her voice broke, questioning. "Arthur, that's my-"

"Sure is." Arthur replied, already drunk on the clean, delicious scent of her. "I'm gonna' just...have a little taste."

He was slow, careful, like he was out stalking prey in the grasslands. Soft kisses that made their way relentlessly inward to his prize until finally, he parted her lower lips with his thumbs and lapped at the nectar that seeped forth. Irene flinched, obviously startled by his mouth on her, and her hands flew to his hair. Arthur waited for a beat, and then cautiously continued tonguing at her. "This--this cannot be proper, Mister Mor-gan--" Irene tried to reason, her voice gone reedy. "What if-"

"You just washed yourself, ma'am." Arthur drawled from between her thighs, rubbing his stubbled cheek against the inside of her leg teasingly. "Ain't nothin' else that concerns me if you're likin' it."

"I...oh, Lord, I can't think." Was her shaky response. "Wh-What are you doing to me, Arthur?"

"Showin' you how the worst outlaw this side of Saint Denis pleases a woman." He growled, the words hanging heated and sharp as a knife in the air between them before he resumed the sweet toil of eating her out. 

She whined high, her fingers kneading at his scalp making his eyes roll shut in satisfaction. "Ar-thur, I--oh, Jesus, Arthur!" Irene sobbed when he lashed her clit with his tongue, rolling over it again and again.

"That good, hmm?" Arthur asked rhetorically, smiling against her when all he got was a moan in reply. She was so damn hot on his tongue, her core soaked with desire just from his heavy petting. That she had never experienced pleasure with a man was asinine, and Arthur privately vowed to give her everything that he could. Fastening his lips down over her clit, he swept his tongue back and forth in a tick-tocking motion that made her nails dig into his scalp. 

That's not just something they put in the books so women don't decide to never get bedded?

"Gotta' admit," Arthur said, pulling away for a moment. "I'm a little curious about those books you been readin' if women are gettin' bedded in 'em." He continued with a teasing grin, full-blown laughing when Irene covered her face and shook her head, groaning. "What, no recommendations for me, Miss Irene? I enjoy a good piece of literature as much as the next feller!"

"You are cruelty incarnate, Arthur Morgan." She huffed. 

Arthur relented, delving back into her with his fingers and tongue as an apology. He assumed from the half-stifled whimpers of don't stop that he was forgiven his transgressions. "You taste so damn good." He muttered, rumbling in approval when her hips rocked upwards and filled his greedy mouth with her cunt. "So damn good, wanna' get every last drop of this treat."

"A-Arthur--" she panted, "I feel...oh God, I…"

Her cunt pulsed under his touch and Arthur stroked his thumb gently over her slit as she came apart for him, every contraction making her slick folds twitch. "There we go," he soothed while she bucked and trembled. "There we go. Nice and easy, Miss Irene." He felt an odd sense of triumph, like when he managed to pick a troublesome stone out of the divot of Chase's frog. Androcles didn't have quite the same ring as Arthur, however. 

Irene's chest was rising and falling rapidly, the woman still gasping for air. Arthur was unprepared for when she seized the front of his shirt and pressed her mouth to his own, whimpering even as she licked at his tongue. Arthur exhaled hard, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back. Probably more roughly than he should have. 

"You okay?" He panted, his nose brushing her own when he reluctantly pulled back an inch or so. 

"Yes, God yes." She sighed, embracing him and giving him a dazed, oddly grateful smile. "Are you...I-I mean, would you like to…"  Irene tried to ask, that sweet blush making its way down to her shoulders. 

Arthur cupped her breast again, rolling over the tight little peak with his thumb. "'Would I like to'...what?" He questioned playfully. "Use those pretty words of yours, Irene."

"I'm scared." She told him honestly, her breath hitching at his touches. "I...it's unbecoming to be so wanton-"

"Honest, Irene. The word you're lookin' for is honest. Ain't nothin' wrong with knowin' what you want." Arthur hurried to interject. "The only sin is helpin' yourself to what ain't freely given."

"Arthur…" she trailed off, staring at him like she had never seen him before. 

He cleared his throat after a minute. "Yeah?"

"I...thank you, Arthur. I wouldn't have--thank you for saying that." Irene laughed, "suppose now you're the one saying what I need to hear."

"I s'pose so." Arthur agreed, grimacing when a flash of lightning lit up the tent. Thunder rolled after a time, the storm still a ways away. His hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, easing them open one by one. Irene had herself propped up on her elbows again, and Arthur wouldn't say her expression didn't do wonders for his ego. "You'll catch flies if you don't close your mouth, Miss Irene."

She snapped her mouth shut, turning her head away with a nervous giggle. "Sorry! I-I apologize, I know staring is rude." 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Irene." Arthur said softly, his hands falling into his lap after he shrugged free of his shirt. He saw her eyes dart over towards him, the woman clearly trying to be more surreptitious about her peeping. "Ma'am, you are buckass on my bedroll. You're more than welcome to look." He drawled, his words laced with a confidence he didn't exactly feel. He knew what he looked like. 

Irene covered her eyes, and then peeked through her fingers at him. "Are...are you certain?" Instead of replying verbally, Arthur just began unbuttoning his placket. "Arthur, I...oh." She mumbled as he shoved his pants off of his hips and down his legs, freeing up his cock. "Oh, Lord." Her hand actually moved like she wanted to touch him, but she flinched back. 

Arthur groaned low in his throat, pleasantly warmed by her reaction. It had been far too long since he had indulged himself, and even longer since he'd had such lovely company while doing so. "You can touch me, y'know." He offered, and her hand crept forward again. 

"It...I won't hurt you?" Irene asked worriedly, her fingers hovering in midair just above his turgid cock. The damn thing was already slick with pre-spend, droplets continuing to leak forth as though his whole body was just waiting for her to be brave.

"Touch gentle-like." Arthur instructed, gritting his teeth when she circled the head of his dick with the pad of her index finger. "Jesus Mary n' Joseph-" he cursed under his breath, the sensation of her fondling him like the lightning outside had leaped into his blood. Then, "your husband didn't let you touch him?"

"I was told to be still and quiet for him." Irene replied absently, her attention blatantly elsewhere as she drew her finger up and down the side of his cock. "He didn't last long. I assume he feared if I touched him, his fuse might shorten even further." 

Arthur tried to stifle his snort of laughter to no avail, waving off the inquisitive look she gave him. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just...I ain't really surprised, is all." He quipped, feeling more than a bit smug. He choked on his next breath when she wrapped her fingers around his cock, the woman seeming to gauge the weight of him in her palm. 

"It's not nearly so terrifying when I can see it." Irene remarked bluntly, trailing her thumb over the sensitive head. 

Arthur grunted, catching her wrist. "Easy now, Irene. I'll freely admit eatin' you out mighta' shortened my own fuse, don't take it personal." He pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist, nipping at the tender skin there and hearing her gasp softly. "I'd like to bed you very, very much, Miss Irene." He breathed. "Show you how it ought to be."

"I…" Irene hesitated, the pattering of the rain and the encroaching thunder the only sound in the tent for a moment. "It won't hurt?"

"I hope not. But if it does, you tell me an' I'll stop." Arthur murmured, framing her face with his large hands so she couldn't hide from him. "I swear it, Irene. I ain't gonna' hurt you if I can help it." He promised fervently. "Not that kinda' man, okay?"

"I know you're not." Strong words. Brave, considering her history, her lack of knowledge about his past and her current vulnerable state. "Oh, but…" she paused, then carried on stiffly, "Arthur, if I get pregnant-"

"T-There's...ways to prevent that." He should have...it wasn't impossible to get ahold of condoms, in spite of the advertising restrictions. He felt like an idiot. "I don't have...I mean, I'll be careful." Lord, since when did he talk about this so openly? Lightning flashed like punctuation on his sentence. Irene looked pensive, her eyes wide in the dim light, but Arthur would have sworn he saw relief there. 

"I know there are more ways than one. My father was a doctor," was her even reply. "Please do what you can. I'm sorry I'm not more prepared."

"Irene…" Arthur was at a loss, cradling her head to his chest. "You trust me?" He asked for the second time that day, his voice a hard rasp.

"Yes."

No hesitation. Arthur closed his eyes, warring with himself. Nothing that he knew about was foolproof. But nothing that her father could have known about was foolproof either, aside from abstaining altogether. Things could fail. 

They would be careful, he assured himself. "Okay." He croaked out, trying for a smile. "Lay down with me."

Irene obliged without question, seeming a bit confused when he had her straddle his hips. Arthur pulled her to his chest for a slow, sloppy kiss, feeling his cock slide against her wet little cunt when he rolled his hips upwards. Irene gasped out his name, her hands clutching helplessly at the bedroll beneath them. "A-Arthur!"

"Yes, Irene?" The man drawled against the shell of her ear, smirking into her skin as she whined.

"Th-This is--"

"Different, I know. Maybe considered unseemly. But I want you as close as I can get you, Irene. And…" Arthur paused, burying his face in the curve of her throat. "Want you to be able to get away from me if you need to, okay?" He explained softly. "Ain't gonna' hurt my feelin's, I promise."

Her exhale was a sharp little thing, as though she had just been pricked by a thorn. "You won't make me stay?"

"Not if you don't want to, no." Arthur answered firmly, taking no offense to her query. "You say stop, I stop." As much as he hated to admit it, this wasn't exactly his first rodeo with someone like Irene. People like him tended to be...heavy-handed, so a little caution and consideration went miles.

She kissed him hard then, making Arthur groan into her mouth when she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him between their bodies. He knew he must have throbbed in her grip, because she tightened her hold momentarily in response. "I'm...going to put this inside me now." Irene announced, a little awkwardly. 

Arthur chuckled, the noise quickly dissolving into a gasp as she shifted her weight and the head of his cock pushed past her slick folds, Christ she was hot-

The man tangled his fists into the bedroll so he didn't grab onto her and rut upwards like he instinctively wanted to do, his breath coming in harsh, raspy pants as she slowly worked herself down on his cock. "Mary mother of-" Her little sighs and moans had Arthur gritting his teeth to the point that his jaw ached. "You alright?" He managed to ask, daring to raise his hands to rest on her thighs. 

"Yes." Irene breathed, the smile on her face a moment later looking like sheer bliss. Arthur was a goner. 

"You sure?" He had to verify, his hands traveling upwards to cup her face. "Feels good for me no matter what, you know that. Need it to be good for you, too." 

Her eyes opened and she looked down at him, stealing the breath out of his chest as she threaded her fingers into his hair. "It's already good. Now make it better." 

…

"So what will you do now?" Arthur asked sleepily, nuzzling his nose into her tousled curls. The rain pattering on the canvas of the tent was lulling him into a doze. The air had cooled considerably in the wake of the storm. thank the Lord for small favors. 

Irene's sigh gusted across his collarbone. "Not certain. I never dreamed to think about what would happen if I was truly free. Ever since I found out about him being dead, I've...I'm not sure how to explain it. There is relief, of course, but also a type of dread. I have grown used to this nomadic lifestyle. I have grown used to not being tied down by civilization."

"You sure 'bout that?" Arthur chuckled, "you still talk like you're sittin' in a parlor enjoyin' tea with the high society."

"Oh, you and I both know that you catch more flies with honey, Mister Arthur." He felt her smile against his chest, "I...there was a sort of interlude to this life that I found enjoyable when I believed I was still hiding. A simplicity. I knew I could not settle anywhere with other folk, not for very long anyway, as it would make it more and more difficult to hide who I was. So I did not want to settle anywhere." She hummed, stretching languidly against his side. 

Arthur rumbled, his hands wandering over her deliciously-naked body. "You still feel that way, Irene?" 

"I don't want to go back." She murmured. "There's nothing there for me anymore. Yet I don't think I truly belong anywhere just yet." 

"How about with me?" Arthur offered quietly, tilting her chin up so he could cover her throat with kisses. He rolled onto his side and pulled her back to his chest, continuing to nudge his nose against the side of her jaw until she giggled that he was tickling her. "You could come join the gang." Bold words, he realized a little too late. "I'm sure the other gals would love you, and Dutch-"

Irene shook her head and Arthur fell silent, burying his face in her curls to inhale her scent with a sort of forlorn resignation. "It's very kind of you to offer, Mister Arthur, but I'm afraid foisting myself upon an already established group would be a recipe for disaster. In a way, I am still uncertain of my identity. Despite my age, I have never really...been myself. I have always been something else, had some role strapped to my back. Now that I've truly shed it, I'll need time to settle into being who I ought to be." She threw him a smile over her shoulder. "Whether Frank, Irene, or some amalgamation of the two, I am uncertain. But I do know this: I am glad to have met you, Arthur Morgan. For you helped me banish the burden of fear that bowed my shoulders so readily. I thank you from the bottom of my heart." 

Arthur was silent for a time, mulling everything over. "Suppose I'd better make the most of this then, huh?" He asked finally, gesturing upwards at the roof of the tent. "Don't sound like that rain is plannin' on stoppin' anytime soon." His cock twitched against her rear, and he grunted when she shifted her weight. 

"Like this?" Irene asked curiously, raising her leg and hooking it over the back of his thigh so his freshly-awakened cock could rub across her folds.

Arthur huffed out a breath, seizing her hip with one hand to keep her still. "You're playin' a dangerous game, woman." His voice grated a bit.

"You don't scare me, Arthur Morgan." She replied playfully.

Because you don't know who I am. If you did...maybe I would. 

Arthur closed his eyes to ward off that dark thought, and in his moment of distraction her hand wrapped around his cock and she canted her hips back, guiding him inside her once again. 

It was like finally coming home, a soothing balm for the spirit that had been forced to wander for so long. Arthur sheathed himself as deep as he dared, her breathy cries of his name more than enough praise to keep him warm in the no-doubt solitary months to come.

"Irene, Irene, you're beautiful." He clumsily complimented her, his lips pressed to her ear so she could hear whatever fool thing came out of his mouth. "God dammit, you are so beautiful. Perfect." His hands found her breasts, cupping and caressing them until she was writhing, bucking back against him in a manner that was downright wanton.

He loved it. The feeling of her around him, beside him, underneath his hands…

Arthur Morgan did not consider himself a good man. He did not consider himself a particularly smart man either. But right now, right now, he considered himself to be a remarkably lucky man.

"I'm close-" he choked, growling when Irene clenched down on him and keened to announce her own climax. Arthur nearly spent himself inside her, only just managing to pull out and spill his seed on her thigh instead. He snarled as he came, the sensation of his hand downright disappointing after being so deep in her. "Christ alive, Irene." He panted startled when she gently palmed his still hard cock and carefully urged it back inside her. "Easy, woman--"

"I just like the feeling, that's all." Irene assured him, shivering and arching her back against his chest as she moved into a downright luxurious stretch. 

Arthur groaned, wrapping his arms around her to keep them pressed together. His hands rested at the apex of her thighs, and he stroked absently over the skin he found there. "I'd love to have stayed inside you, but I know neither of us are keen on bringin' a new young'un into the world." He tried to smile, tried to make it a joke.

"Maybe someday." 

Irene's nonchalant, sleepy words hit Arthur like a punch to the gut. What was this woman doing to him? Arthur loathed himself for the way his heart hitched, ached at the idea of having a child. For the longest time in his younger years he had deluded himself into thinking that he might have something like that with Mary, dreaming about domesticity of all things. Going out and teaching little Jack how to fish had been torture, because all he could think about was John leaving the boy behind and Jesus Christ, how could a person ever do something like that?

"I think I'm gettin' a little too old." He admitted quietly. "Think the ship's sailed on that one. Plus, I mean, with the stuff I'm involved in…" he trailed off, tightening his hold ever so slightly. Irene yawned, snuggling down into his arms. He kissed her cheek. "Ah, don't mind me, Irene. I'll wake you up if anythin' happens."

She drifted off so quickly, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts. He eventually pulled away from her, a hand on her back to keep her still, and he felt a ridge beneath his fingertips. Squinting in the dim light of the tent, he realized it was a scar. And it wasn't alone, her back was fairly riddled with them. 

His stomach dropped in dismay. Arthur was not free of his own scars, of course. The ones on his chin were freely visible, and the rest of his body bore a fair amount of mileage to that end. He hadn't had an easy time of it. No one in the Van Der Linde gang had. 

He untied the tent flap and propped it open after shuffling back into his pants, lighting the remains of his cigarette. The older man stared out at the rain for a good long while, his mind thousands of miles away as the cigarette slowly burned to ash between his lips. Tomorrow morning, perhaps the morning after that if he was fortunate enough to steal a bit more time, they would part ways once more, cast themselves adrift to the tides of fate. 

He might never see her again. 

After the weeks he had spent, wondering whether the phantom woman in the Valentine hotel had been nothing but a figment of his imagination...and now, knowing that she was real, flesh and blood...

Arthur lit another cigarette and reached for his satchel, tugging free his journal and then settling in to sketch her sleeping form. Here and now, in this secret clearing, he would eke out some semblance of peace. The graphite stub swept across the page, capturing forever the curve of her cheek, the glorious mess of that chestnut-brown hair, the wrinkles of the blanket that he had draped over her in case the breeze grew too ambitious. 

Turns out the man I THOUGHT was Frank was actually -IRENE-. The world does so love to afflict me with its twists and turns...

Bonus: A Brief Diversion

[adarlingsnightmare]

Ciel Phantomhive Yandere Alphabet

Anonymous said:

Hi! Can I ask for ciel phantomhive yandere alphabet?

I’m very sorry for being gone for such a long time and not posting anything, but I’ve been incredibly busy with school and haven’t had time to just sit down and write something. I will be more active from now on. Under the cut because it’s long.

A- Attribute: What brought on this side of them? What made them suddenly click?

It's not entirely clear what made him turn yandere, most likely his traumatic childhood affected the way he sees things.

B- Blood- If they're extreme how messy are they willing to get?

Oh, Ciel's not spilling a drop of blood, at least, not directly. Sebastian will be the one killing any rivals or obstacles in the way of his love for you.

C- Cope - Do they try to deal with this jealousy sooner so they don't lash out?

Ciel is smart, he doesn't act rashly, no matter how furious he may be that someone is taking your attention away from him. He'll spend time planning how he's going to make this person suffer, and believe me, they'll be suffering alright.

D-Death, Do they feel any sorrow for their victims at all?

None at all, he believes they deserve their fates for getting near his darling. Even if the victim was someone his darling cared about like a friend or family member, he would not care, only be irritated that they're wasting their tears over them.

E- Earnest, Are they intense?

Yes, 100%. You'll feel like you can't breathe when you're around him -- which is all the time.

F-Fight, How would they feel if you fought back against them?

All you're doing is giving him more chance to prove his power and authority over you, which he loves doing. Of course, if you constantly fought back he would get irritated, but don't worry, after the punishment you receive you won't be doing it again.

G- Game: How much do they enjoy watching you run and have a fearful expression?

Ciel simultaneously thinks it's funny and thinks it's pathetic. He's a bit of sadist, and loves to see the hope leave your face as you're dragged back to him by Sebastian.

H- Hell: What would be your worst experience with them?

There isn't one specific experience that is worse than the others, because let's be real, your life with Ciel sucks. But not being able to the bathroom without Ciel's permission means you are most likely going to end up wetting yourself, which Ciel will then punish you severely for and to me that would be so horrifying. You can never avoid punishment, no matter how hard you try.

I- Iron: How emotionally stable would you be throughout the events that unfold?

You may start out stable, but in the end you'll be broken down to the point of not doing anything without Ciel's permission.

J- Jet- How fast would it happen for them to go yandere?

The two ways Ciel would turn yandere (at least outwardly) would be if you either rejected his advances over and over or you were already together. With the first, it would be fast; the second you leave after rejecting him again, you find yourself being restrained by Sebastian and brought into Ciel's room. If you were already together it would be slow, little by little Ciel would take control of your entire life, and it would be too late before you realised what was happening.

K- Kill- Would they hurt anyone to get to you?

Is that even a question? He'll do whatever it takes, who cares if a few people get hurt along the way? As long as he has you, he doesn't care.

L-Lonely, How much loneliness would they feel if you two were apart?

As if Ciel would ever let you leave his sight for even a second.

M- Might: How aggressive would they be towards you?

Ciel doesn't get particularly aggressive or violent, per say, but that's not to say he doesn't get scary. He usually remains calm, with a menacing low tone in his voice and an intimidating look. He may however start screaming at you if you constantly defied him and his patience wore thin.

N- Next: Would they ever move on after you?

It's not like death would get you out of that relationship.

O- Oppression- How many rights would they take away from you?

Rights? You won't even know what that word means by the first month of being trapped with him. He takes pleasure over controlling every single aspect of your life; what you eat, what you wear, where you go, when you speak, etc. You'll rely entirely on him, and that's exactly what he wants. He sees you more as a pretty doll he owns than a person.

P- Prize: Would they consider this a game?

Oh, definitely, this is a game of chess and you're his Queen.

Q- Quality: Would they to be secretive or be flashy about what they do?

You'll always be with him in public, but no one would ever guess the true toxic nature of your relationship.

R- Rain: Would they keep you trapped inside forever?

No, whenever he has to go somewhere you'll be there with him, arm in arm.

S- Stalker: Would they stalk you? How intense would it go?

He doesn't really stalk you, more gets Sebastian to go out and get information on you.

T-Turmoil, Would they force you to team up with them?

You're not on the same level as him, you're just a doll, why would he team up with you?

U-Usage, Would they use you to get what they desire?

You are the only thing he desires.

V- Version: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He won't seem as lovesick as the typical yandere, but believe me, he is obsessed.

W-Wild Card, a random yandere headcannon.

While Ciel will make Sebastian kill any nuisances, only he is allowed to lay a hand on you. He wants to be the only one causing you pain, in fact he wants to be the only person you think about. And yes, he will brand your skin with his name.

X- Xenophobia: How much would they get angry from their jealousy?

More annoyed than angry, but he is horrendously possessive, so he will punish you for even glancing at another person.

Y- Yander: How many crimes would they commit?

As many as necessary, but Ciel would be careful not to draw attention to himself and would most likely pin the crimes on someone else. If all your family and friends are killed, Ciel will tell everyone it was "your crazy stalker who wanted you for himself", and would claim he was helping you recover.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//evening petals. yamaguchi tadashi//

Request: Hi! I just wanted to say that I absolutely LOVE your writing you’re one of my favorite imagine accounts 🥺💕 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Yamaguchi where he’s like a prince and he throws a masquerade ball and him and the reader start falling for each other and stuff if that’s ok 🥺😔👉🏼👈🏼

Warnings: brief mentions of premarital holding (i know i know.  I’m filthy)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes:  Me, pulling out all of the obscure knowledge I’ve gained from reading stupid amounts of Victorian era British literature:      👁👄👁

*18th Century Royalty AU?  18th Century Royalty AU.*

This was the last way that Yamaguchi Tadashi wanted to spend his 21st birthday, but he understood.  He was a prince after all.  It was necessary for him to find a wife to sit next to him on the throne, but seriously?  Today of all days?

His parents and the royal staff had been planning this ball for weeks, so it’s not like Yamaguchi could just refuse.  Everyone had worked so hard to make this evening special for him and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful.  It was wonderful, really.  Seeing the ballroom of the palace graced in beautiful candlelight, the curtains drawn back so the rose gardens were visible in the slowly approaching dusk, hundreds of people littered around the room, socializing with one another. 

The masks, especially.  It was other-worldly to him.  He probably knew many of the nobles in the room, but with their faces obscured behind the beautifully crafted accessories, he felt like just another person in the room.  For once in his life, he didn’t feel like Prince Tadashi.  He was just- Tadashi.  There weren’t any unnecessary eyes on him.  People weren’t hounding him about trade deals with neighboring kingdoms or trying to appease the future king.  It was so refreshing, being able to move through the crowd without stopping him every few steps to introduce themselves and their entire family.

But, word quickly spread throughout the party as the fingers and whispers became almost impossible to ignore.  “Yes, that gentleman over there.  With the gold Venecian mask.  Yes, that’s him! That’s the prince!” People talked and Yamaguchi knew that it was only a matter of time before he was being swarmed by noblemen.  Everyone in the room knew the true intentions of this party.  It was the opportunity to attempt to get their daughters married away to the most sought after bachelor in the kingdom.  

If I just walk faster, maybe I can-

“Prince Tadashi!”

Shit.

Yamaguchi turned slowly, his smile just visible beneath his half-mask.  “Yes! Hello!  Thank you so much for coming,” he said, bowing gracefully to the gentleman.

The gentleman gave a deep bow, the two young women giving polite curtsies in his presence.  “Your highness, I am Lord Claudius Chavanet of the Gruidor Kingdom.  It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“No, please! The pleasure is all mine!”

“I would like to introduce you to Lady Catherine Chavanet and Lady Adele Chavanet, my eldest daughters.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Prince Tadashi,” the one in the exquisitely painted cat mask says, holding her hand out, fully expecting Yamaguchi to do something other than just stare and smile awkwardly at him.  Coming to the realization that he should do something, he takes her hand and gives it a firm shake.

“I’m very pleased to meet you too, Miss Chavanet,” he says, continuing to shake her hand enthusiastically.  The girl stares at him with a bewildered expression and pulls her hand away, folding them delicately in front of her.  

Her sister, not wanting to fall victim to the prince’s flustered facade, chooses simply to give him another curtsey.  “Thank you for having us, your highness.  Happy birthday.”

“Thank you for the kind wishes.  Now, if you would excuse me,” Yamaguchi smiles, thankful that his mask covers his flustered cheeks.  Before awaiting their farewells, he has turned on his heels, walking briskly away, desperate to find his parents, his friends, anyone that can maybe shield him from all the unwanted attention.  

“Tadashi!” There’s a sigh of relief from the prince at the familiar voice of his father.  Finally, someone to get me out of here.  Yamaguchi turns to make a B-line for the king, his one escapte, but he was sure the disappointment was evident on his face as there was a literal line of people waiting to talk to the king, or rather, to talk to the prince.

He shook his head, trying his best to pull a smile onto his face, as he approached.  “Father.”  Yamaguchi gives his father a short bow.

“Have you been enjoying yourself, my boy?”

“Yessir.  Thank you for doing this for me.  It’s absolutely amazing!”

“I’m glad to hear it.  However, all of these people have been waiting very patiently to make your acquaintance.”

“Yes, I apologize for keeping them waiting.  It was rude of me,” he apologizes, lowering his eyes in shame.  It was not of very princely conduct to keep nobles and other royal families waiting.  His father had made that very clear to him a long time ago.  ‘These people . . . they tend to be very agreeable at face value. But, just as we do, they come to these parties to make powerful connections.  I suggest you keep your most polite head about you whenever they are around.  It could easily cost you the kingdom or, worse, your life if you aren’t careful.’

“Don’t fret too much, Tadashi.  It’s your birthday, after all!  They can wait on you,” his father bellowed, giving him a kind wink.

Tadashi isn’t sure how much time had passed, but he does know that the servants came by three times to offer him a drink and he also knows that he will gladly be taking them up on their offer as his throat had grown dry from endless greetings and polite conversations.  After tonight, he was pretty sure that he was going to be okay never going to another party again.  He met close to a hundred eligible young women and, yet, they all ran together in his head.  That girl over there, was she a Terlee or was she Princess Sakura of the Atalon Kingdom? Wait- or was that Lady Norah Blaisha?  He found himself growing frustrated as he tried to remember who everyone was.  He felt so lousy!  How was he meant to pick someone to marry if he didn’t even know anyone’s name?

His father’s firm hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.  “Well, I think that’s everyone.  Anyone catch your eye?”  There was a gleam of hope in his father’s eyes.  His parents have waited a long time for this day.  For the day when he would begin courtship with a young woman, but how was he meant to tell his father that he didn’t remember a single exchange that just happened?

He couldn’t do that.  He couldn’t disappoint his father like that.  Instead, he simply nodded, eyes shut tight in a painfully fake smile.  “Yes, there were a few that I found very agreeable.”

“I’m glad to hear that, son.”

Yamaguchi was ready to ask if he could be excused to go find his friends, but the words got lost somewhere in his throat.  At the edge of the crowd, a young woman sat, her black mask decorated with ornate gold twists and turns of filigree, splashes of little red embroidered roses around the edges.  He’s sure he would’ve remembered that mask.  It was easily the prettiest one that he had seen all evening.  He would’ve complimented it, but Tadashi didn’t remember being introduced to her.

“Father?”

“Yes?”

“Over there, the girl with the black and gold mask?”

“Yes, I see her.  What about her?”

“Do you know who she is?”  Yamaguchi asks, not taking his eyes away.

“I believe that is the youngest daughter of Lord Sauret.  She’s closer to your age than her sister, but her sister is unmarried and well- you know how it is.”

He did.  The eldest girls were to be married before the younger ones were allowed to engage in courtships, but he couldn’t just let this opportunity slip through his fingers.  It was the first person to really catch his attention, how could he not introduce himself?

“I would like to be introduced.”

“Tadashi-” his father warns. 

“You’ve said it yourself, connections are vital.  That’s all this is: forming connections.”

The king released a heavy sigh, unable to say no to his son’s pleading eyes.  “Fine.  Come along.  We’ll go find her father.”

In a matter of minutes, Yamaguchi Tadashi was grinning one of his first genuine smiles of the evening as the two fathers introduced their children.  

“Your highnesses, it is my absolute honor to introduce my youngest daughter to you both:  Miss Y/F/N Y/L/N.”  You do a low curtsy as your father introduces you to the members of the royal family, keeping your eyes trained to the floor.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Y/L/N,” Yamaguchi smiles, bowing deeply in your presence.

“And my son, Prince Yamaguchi Tadashi of the Rozu Kingdom.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, your highness,” you reply, a polite smile on your face.  

Yamaguchi’s hand went to the back of his neck, unsure of what to say next.  Honestly, he didn’t think he would get this far and no one had ever taught him what to do in these sort of situations.  Was he supposed to ask you to dance or should he stay here talking to you?  Does he compliment you?  He was meant to lead the conversation, yet he didn’t even know where to start.  Should he ask if you’re having fun?  No, that would be a bad conversation starter.  

“Do you like roses?” 

Good one, Tadashi.

“I’m sorry?”  Your face contorts into a soft look of confusion as you fail to comprehend his sudden question.

He can feel his face grow hot, averting his eyes awkwardly.  He wishes that he could just hide behind the curtains and disappear like he would do when he was a child.  This was by far the worst social interaction that he’s ever had and last week he said ‘yes, thank you’ when his servant asked what he wanted for dinner, so the bar for bad social interaction had been set pretty high for the prince. “Well, your mask- it has roses.  So, I just wondered.”  

Your hand reaches up towards the mask instinctively, fingers tracing over the little embroidered flowers.  “Oh, right.  My mother used to love them.”

“Really?  What’s her favorite flower now?”

Your face flashes through about a hundred different emotions before finally settling into a look of sadness. 

“Oh my God! Wait- I am so so sorry!  I didn’t think!  Please, forgive me, miss!” Yamaguchi frets, bowing in apology probably thirty times in a matter of seconds.

If he wasn’t desperately pleading for your forgiveness, you probably would’ve been more upset, but you couldn’t deny that his flustered mannerisms were, in a way, sort of cute.  His face was as red as the roses on your mask and he was waving his hands around frantically, muttering that he was ‘so so sorry.’  

Yamaguchi slowly looks into your face when the sound of sweet giggles are coming from your direction.  There’s a smile on your lips that almost instantly soothes him.  It radiates the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day and he can’t help melting as he looks into your shining eyes.  “Have you seen the gardens?”  He asks, returning your gaze, gesturing out the window to the rose garden shining gold in the disappearing daylight.

“That’s why I chose to sit here, so I could look out at them,” you say, nodding slightly.

“Would you like to see them?  Up close, I mean,” Yamaguchi offers.

“Your highness, I don’t know if that’s appropriate,” you ease, eyes flitting over to where your father was engaged in a casual conversation with the king.

The young prince simply shrugs and gives a dreamy sigh, an unknown burst of confidence bubbling up within his chest.  “It’s a shame, really.  The China Roses fully bloomed today and I was hoping to get a good look at them before the sun went down.”  He offers you a sly smile, unfitting of the usually awkward prince.  “But, if you don’t want to see them, that’s okay.  I’m sure I could find someone else to accompany me, but I doubt that they’d be half as breathtaking.”  

In the golden light of the evening, your blush blended in with the medley of colors dancing across your skin.  How could you possibly refuse now?  You reach out, taking his expectant hand, letting him guide you discreetly away from the party and out into the beautiful serenity of the palace gardens.

Tadashi’s head begins to clear as he is finally able to escape the overwhelming bustling atmosphere of the party.  He rids himself of his mask, running a quick hand through his hair, finally being able to breath easily again and drop the ‘charming prince’ act that he was expected to uphold.  He could finally just be Tadashi once more.  

Following his lead, you untie the strings of your mask, letting it fall into your hand.  It’s here, in this moment in time, that Prince Yamaguchi Tadashi of the Rozu Kingdom wishes that he had the ability to stop the world around him, staying in this frame of life forever.  You weren’t looking at him, examining one of the flowers that hadn’t quite blossomed into its full beauty yet.  In the disappearing daylight, your delicate features caught the fleeting rays, casting a soft orange glow over you.  It was a masterpiece of nature that he wanted to have saved as a portrait forever.  Happiness surrounding every inch of your being as you reveled in the stunning garden that completely encircled you.

So, this is the feeling, huh? The butterflies sneaking up into his stomach and the clouds fogging his mind, but not in the same way that they were when he was at the party.  This was a better feeling.  He wasn’t shrouded with anxieties, worrying about what to say or what to do.  Rather, his head was buzzing with thoughts about how beautiful you look, so undoubtedly happy wandering around his gardens with him.  Thinking that it would be completely inappropriate to kiss you right now, but maybe that could stay here, tucked between petals, protected by thorns.  

But, if it was so wrong, why were your hands on his chest? And why weren’t you pulling away from him?  If it was so socially taboo, why were you kissing him back and why didn’t he want to stop pressing his lips to yours?  

Yet, here, shrouded in the approaching darkness, tender kisses were shared between the glowing evening petals.

[marril96]

Handle with Care

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: A sexual role-play leads to guilt and tears.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian​

*****

It was a game no different than the countless others you'd played.

It started with a kiss that made you tingle all over, nerves on fire, going off like fireworks on the Fourth of July. A push — a shove, really, for you intended to make the most of the night — and Rowena was on her back, naked as the day she'd been born, arms spread, skin glistening like a milky sky dusted with a constellation of freckles, hair spilled around her head like a fiery halo.

Lying so still, her eyes observing your every move, taking it in like prey preparing for an attack, heart pounding softly in her chest, she resembled an angel. She was beautiful as one, charming, magnificent, supernatural not just in species but in presence itself. A force of nature you never tired of claiming, of making it clear to everyone that asked — and those that didn't — that she was yours.

She didn't get like this for just everyone. She didn't bare herself — body, mind, and soul — to any stranger. It took years of love, of devotion, of endless patience and support and kindness for you to earn her trust to be allowed to play this game.

As much as she wanted to pretend otherwise, Rowena was a delicate thing. Gentle. Fragile. She needed to be handled with care, even when she relinquished all control and told you, in no certain terms, to go at it. To roam free. She had her limits, and she trusted you to respect them.

Straddling her, you pressed your mouth to hers in another kiss. Tonight was your night. As much as she loved being in control, there were times when she relished being a powerless, naughty girl in need of punishment. A few days ago, that was your role. Tonight, it was hers. Your hands roamed everywhere, tugging, squeezing, feeling her warmth underneath your fingertips, as delicious as her mouth on yours.

Rowena's eyes fell closed, a moan escaping her lips — her swollen, cherry-red lips, hungry for kisses, begging for more. Your teeth grazed the lower one as you parted, drawing blood. She hissed, startled, and you smirked. Rowena pouted, and you clicked your tongue, shaking your head. She was at your mercy tonight. Nobody said anything about playing fair.

You kissed down her neck, every now and then capturing a bit of skin between your lips and leaving behind a butterfly bruise. They were violet and beautiful, marks of ownership she would wear for days, alike those she'd left on you earlier. It was one of your favorite parts of the game. Being allowed to hurt her, ruin her, and make it feel so good — not just for you, but for her as well.

Rowena accompanied every nip with a moan, pain and pleasure mixed into one, a sound that was magic to your ears. Her body was a canvas, blank and perfect, waiting for you to fill it, to make it yours. And, the artist you were, you were happy to oblige.

Your cupped her breasts. Small, supple, they fit perfectly into your palms. You kissed each one, suckling on rock-hard nipples. Biting on each before releasing them with a plop. Rowena looked at you with wounded, desperate eyes. Sad as a kicked puppy. You used to have a hard time resisting them, but over the years you'd built a tolerance for petty manipulations in the bedroom. You had, after all, learned from the best.

"Aw, what is it, baby?" you cooed, sarcasm thick in your voice.

"Y/N, please," she whined. A perfect, delicious little melody.

You raised an eyebrow. "Please what?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you." You emphasized it by pinching one of her nipples, eliciting a yelp. "Is this not good enough for you?"

"It is, but…"

"But what?"

Rowena pouted. Realizing you weren't going to fall for that, either, she said, "Please, Y/N."

Her hand slithered between her legs. You slapped it away. "Patience, sweetie."

"But—"

"No buts." Your fingers slid over her thigh in a gentle caress. A teasing. A promise of what was to come. "We've only just started. No need to rush things."

"I need you."

You chuckled. And she had the audacity to be offended when you called her a brat. "You're such a baby."

"Am not," she said defiantly, scowling.

"So are. My little baby," you teased, booping the tip of her nose.

She scrunched up her face adorably. "You're mean."

"That's rich, coming from you. Or did you forget last week?" She'd worked you so hard it had hurt to walk for two days straight. You hadn't regretted a thing; every lick of pain, every screaming muscle was worth it.

Rowena smirked. "T'was a lot of fun."

It definitely was. "And so is tonight." You raised a questioning eyebrow. "Unless you're chickening out."

"Please. As if I've anything to fear."

"I can be scary."

A snort, taunting, derisive.

You scowled. "What, you don't think I can?"

"Of course you can, darling." She patted your arm as if you were a dog who'd just performed the simplest trick. Good girl, the gesture said, condescending to its very core. So smart for a dog.

You grit your teeth, smacking her hand off. "You're being a naughty girl."

There it was again, that smirk, infuriating and delicious all at once. Defiant as ever. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to have to punish you." Your pussy quivered at the thought. Pictures already formed in your mind; Rowena on her knees, your hand tangled in her hair, pulling to expose her neck, to show her who was in charge. To make her submit for every failure to do so resulted in a new punishment. Bruises adorning her body, bites and scratches, red lines and purple butterflies. An artwork to be admired.

She quired up an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Mmhm." You licked your lips, imagined your tongue exploring tastier places. All in good time. "Can't reward bad behavior, can I?"

"You most certainly can't," she agreed. Then, with a teasing grin, "If you're competent."

Brat mode on, it seemed. Not that it was ever off, in the sheets or the streets.

"Are you saying I can't punish you?"

"Och, I know you can. If it's any good, though… that is a guessing game, is it not?"

"Is that a challenge?" you asked, knowing full well it was.

"I don't know. Is it?" You scowled. Rowena shrugged, blinked innocently. "You are a more… gentle lover, darling. I just don't know if you have it in you to be tough."

You slapped her in the face with all the strength you could muster. Her cheek instantly swelled an angry red, skin bristled, tingling with raging nerves. If that was how she wanted to play, so be it. You loved a good challenge.

The smug smile never left Rowena's mouth. If anything, it got bigger, bolder. She laughed, and it was hearty, too nonchalant for her own good. "Is that the best you've got?"

Frustration swelled in your chest. Riling you up was her favorite thing to do whenever you played. She loved to push you to your limits, loved to tease and taunt and mock until you snapped and took all your anger, all your rage out on her. It hurt a lot, and it hurt so good; you knew from your own nights as a "victim," when Rowena's own limits were pushed and you happily paid the price.

Your hands shot up to her neck, fingers wrapping around the sensitive skin. Tentative, gentle, testing the waters before the final countdown. Choking wasn't something you practiced often, but Rowena always welcomed it. She'd never refused a punishment, had never used her safe word and asked that you go slower, lighter. She welcomed pain for as much as it hurt, it felt so good, so empowering.

She knew you would never do anything she wasn't comfortable with. Knew one word of hers would be the end of everything, and your arms would be open for her to snuggle into as you murmured apologies. She felt safe with you, just as you had with her. There was no danger, no fear. Nothing either of you hadn't consented to.

Nothing but endless trust.

Rowena snorted. "Seriously?"

If that's how you wanna play it, fine. Eyes locked in an intense stare, your fingers tightened around her neck. Such a delicate thing she was. So small, so frail. You could crush her throat if you wanted to. It was a scary amount of power to have, but you knew how to wield it. You knew not to let it get to you, not to abuse it.

"How about this, Red?" The words rolled off your tongue in a purr, delicate, provocative. The way you knew made her quiver in all the right places. "Hm? You like this?"

Your nails dug into her skin as you squeezed and squeezed and squeezed, grazing it, almost drawing blood. Marking it. She was yours; your property, your little doll to play with, to do whatever you wanted to. And, gods, there were so many things you wanted to do. So many punishments you wanted to inflict, different ways to make her scream and beg and whimper underneath you. To make her curse your name just as you had hers last week as she'd worked you to your very last limit.

Rowena smacked your arm. Again. And again. She kept hitting you, kept fighting you, tiny fingers clawing. Desperate as a trapped kitten, and just as harmless.

Your mouth curled into a smirk. "What do you think you're doing? Hm, Red?" Then, teasing, "My Little Red Riding Hood."

She still fought you, desperate to get free. Strange as it was given the situation, she was pale as a ghost. Her eyes, you noticed far too late, were wide, filled with panic like a sky painted grey with storm clouds. Filled with fear; pure, unadulterated. Terror much alike the one you knew well for, three years ago, it had been a constant. A nightmare she couldn't seem to wake up from, that followed her everywhere she went and made her fear every shadow she came across.

You instantly released her. Guilt ate at you as she doubled over and gasped for breath. You hadn't squeezed her that hard, had you? Surely, you were careful.

No. Your heart knew it before the reality of the situation reached your brain. You were too rough. You frightened her. You hurt her.

"Rowena, I'm so sorry," you said. "I didn't—"

Were those tears dripping on the bed? Was she crying?

You had crossed her limits, but surely it wasn't that bad. She couldn't be that scared, like bad then, in that hotel room, with the Devil crushing her skull and setting her alight — all the while she was still alive.

Could she?

Surely she was exaggerating.

Right?

"Hey, are you okay?" You reached for her shoulder. She stiffened under your touch. Went still as a statue. "Sweetheart?"

Her eyes, wounded, broken, found yours for a brief moment before falling downwards in shame. A whimper tore from her mouth. More tears fell, and with them came sobs that shattered your heart into a thousand pieces. She was shaking, heart pounding so hard you could hear it, could feel the vibrations under your fingertips.

"Rowena—"

"Don't." She gathered the last remnants of her strength to say it, to make it curt, straight to the point. As close to regular one could get when they were crying.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. Whined. Cried like she hadn't in months, not since the last nightmare. They'd lessened in frequency, reappearing every now and then as opposed to every night like they used to. She'd managed to get them under control over the years, just as she had flashbacks; they weren't gone, never would be, but they weren't as frequent. She could sleep without fear now. She could walk the streets without worrying about something random sending her down a memory lane she wished she could erase from her head.

Was that what you'd done? Had you sent her back to that hotel room, straight into Lucifer's arms?

"Hey," you said softly, in that tone that always calmed her, that always put her at ease. You rubbed her shoulder, caressed it with utmost tenderness. "It's okay. You're okay."

Only she wasn't, was she? Because of you. Because you went too far. The accusations stung. It was an accident; you would never harm her on purpose, would never make her relive the worst day of her life. Would never cause her any kind of pain she didn't want you to.

Yet, you did exactly that.

Your intentions didn't matter. The fact remained that you did it. You swore you never would, and you did it, all over a stupid sexual game.

Tears pricked at your eyes, sharp as knives. Accusatory. Unforgiving. You were a bad person. A bad girlfriend. If Rowena decided it wasn't worth it, that she wanted nothing to do with you, she would be well within her rights.

"Come here." You didn't feel like you deserved it, but you wanted to make it up to her. Wanted to, at the very least, try to fix the damage you'd caused. Wanted to — selfishly so, and you hated yourself for it — feel her against you and, for a short moment, feel like you were doing something good, like you were helping her.

Just like countless times before, she dove into your arms, buried her head in your chest, and crumbled. She wept and sobbed and whined, sad to her core, broken, shattered. Unconsolable.

All because of you.

Guilty tears falling, you wrapped your arms around her. Tight as if your life depended on it. "It's okay," you whispered. "It's okay, baby. You're safe."

And she was. You were the only person she allowed to see this side of her; this frail, broken creature, all defenses down, protective walls torn apart. She knew you wouldn't judge her, wouldn't take advantage. She trusted you.

That only made the guilt that ripped at you worse.

She trusted you, and you did this to her.

She trusted you despite it.

You hurt her, and she still trusted you, still felt safe in your arms. Still sought comfort in you. Still let you see her at her worst, weakest, most vulnerable.

"I'm sorry," you said once again, and wanted to say it many more times, for as long as guilt ate away at you. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

You rocked her writhing form, gently, as if she were a child. Rubbed soft circles across her bare, sweat-soaked back. Nuzzled her hair and kissed her scalp.

"I'm so sorry."

Moment by moment, whisper by whisper, Rowena quieted down. Pulling away, she rubbed at her swollen, scarlet-rimmed eyes.

"You okay?" you asked.

She gave a small nod and, in a raspy voice, said, "Aye."

"Need anything? A glass of water?"

"I'm fine."

She wasn't, but, like always, she put on a front. Her way of regaining some control, some dignity after falling apart.

"Was…" You swallowed a lump in your throat. Licked your lips. Cleared your throat. "Was it a flashback?"

Rowena nodded.

The confirmation shattered you, tore you apart like a knife deep in your gut. You should have known this would happen. You'd choked her before, but never like that. Never that hard. It was your fault she was hurting. Your fault she would spend the night tossing and turning in bed, the memories burning in her mind, fresh as if not a day had gone by since the incident. Your fault she she was back in that hotel room, completely and utterly helpless, terrified to the bone..

It was all your fault.

"I'm sorry," you said for the upteenth time. As if that could change anything. As if an apology would erase the agony she was in — the agony you'd put her in. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Not in a way she didn't like. You'd planned to hurt her plenty tonight. Only, she was supposed to enjoy it. Not curl up in a ball and weep.

"I know," Rowena said, and meant it. She could hold a mean grudge. If there were any ill feelings, she would have let you know.

That only made you feel worse.

She should have been angry. She should have screamed her lungs out, arms flailing wildly, eyes flashing purple. She should have hurt you, or wanted to at the very least.

She should not be this calm about it after what you'd put her through.

It wasn't right.

Noticing your turmoil, Rowena reached for your hand. She was warm to the touch, soft, gentle. Her fingers twined with yours, squeezed tight. A comfort you didn't know you needed. Your nerves instantly calmed, tense muscles relaxed. The woman was magic, and she didn't even have to utter a single spell. All she had to do was touch you, and you were hers, your body, soul, and mind under her command.

Sometimes you hated it.

In times like this, you welcomed it.

"It was an accident," she said, looking straight into your eyes. Making sure you heard her loud and clear. "I'm fine. Don't beat yourself up."

"I shouldn't have choked you."

"You didn't know."

You didn't. But still… "We did it before, so I thought it was fine." You couldn't change what happened, but you could explain. You could make her understand. "I didn't mean to go that far. It just happened. I—"

"I know," Rowena said. "It was an accident, darling."

"I suck."

"You don't."

"I'm a bad girlfriend."

"You're not."

"I'm just like him."

"Don't you dare say that!" The sharpness of her tone startled you. Her eyes, still red and puffy, were fuming, anger coiling in them like a storm about to devastate a town. "You are nothing like Lucifer." She spat the name like the filth it was. "I never want to hear you say things like that again. Have I made myself clear?"

You gave a nod. "I'm sorry."

A smile broke out on her mouth, small but encouraging. "Like I said, it's okay. I'm okay.."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye." You stared. She sighed. "For the most part. Don't worry. The worst has passed."

"I'm—"

Raising a forefinger in warning, she said, "If you say sorry one more time, you are sleeping on the couch."

You threw your arms up in defeat. "Sorry." She raised an eyebrow. You cringed. Nice going, Y/N. "I'll just stop talking."

"That would be greatly appreciated," Rowena deadpanned.

A moment passed in silence. Then you said, "I guess I shouldn't choke you anymore."

"That would be for the best," she agreed. "I can handle it for the most part, but it would be best to prevent future accidents. Some things..."

"I know," you said, reclaiming her hand, squeezing it in emphasis. She didn't have to explain. If she couldn't handle it, that was enough for you to cease doing it. After all, you played these games for mutual pleasure. There was no satisfaction in suffering if it wasn't wanted. "Is there anything else you don't want me to do?"

"Just choking."

"Okay."

"Och, and…" You raised a questioning eyebrow. She bit her lip. "Maybe don't call me Red."

"Of course!" His favorite nickname for her. A bad choice of words on your part, especially when coupled with choking. "It completely slipped my mind."

"It's alright, darling."

Laying down, you waved for Rowena to join you. She was beside you in an instant, nestled in your embrace, curled up against you like a kitten.

"I love you," you said as you played with the locks of her hair, threaded your fingers through them.

"Me, too," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone.

You laid like that for what felt like hours. It took a while, but, to your surprise, Rowena, feeling safe, protected, drifted off to sleep. Smiling, you kissed the top of her head and allowed your eyes to fall closed. Allowed much needed sleep to claim you.

Tomorrow was a new day. Hopefully, a brighter one.

After all, you had a game to finish.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca​ @salembitchtrials @jay-eris​ @hellsmother​ @elizabeth-effie​ @shadowgirl-vsb​ @rowenaswife​ @wonderifshelikesroses​ @xfireandsin​ @liddell-alien​ @hotdiggitydammit​ @lae-lae​ @darkhumorsblog​ @angel7376​ @cherrypierowena​ @evil-regal-vampiress​ @hellbentredhead​ @angel-e-v-a​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @rowenaslilwitch​ @midnight-lestrange​

[demonwifey]

I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader has a think for beetlejuice’s voice. Like a voice kink.

I struggled with it a little bit  because I’ve barely written full on smut before so I hope you guys enjoy. I decided to do a different take and do a succubus reader instead of a human reader.

But still got through it and @paxenera actually got an ask like this as well so go check hers out too!💚💜🖤

Warnings: NSFW +18, succubus!reader 

Word Count: 3,453

After a full 2 weeks in the human world Y/N was finally home. Back to the grim darkness that filled the sky. Back to the eerie sounds of wails and moans on the air. Back to a never ending sight of the dead walking around freely. The Netherworld. Home, sweet home. 

****

And it wasn’t easy being one of the Netherworld’s most infamous succubi. Y/N took the position after having met an early death when she was only 27. She practically lived a boring life when so why not find something a little more exciting and fulfilling in her after life. That’s when her case worker assigned her to work at the hottest Netherworld brothel, Dante’s Inferno. After spending what seemed like 3 months, actually 2 years in human time, she worked her way up to a full fledged succubus. 

Of course, being a succubus came with it’s ups and downs. The upside was that Y/N felt more alive than ever. She had sexual power over desperate men. They made her feel in control in every single way. But that was also the downside. Her victims were only in it for their pleasure. They wanted her to take control as they filled their fantasies of being dominated by a sexy seductress demoness. But sometimes she wanted…less. Maybe Y/N wanted someone else to take control. Maybe she wanted to give the power to someone else.And there was only one man that gave Y/N exactly what she wanted. And his name was Beetlejuice. 

The demon man came into her life just a year after fully becoming a succubus. The two ran into each other at Dante’s Inferno. Y/N was back to visit her old brothel friends and Beetlejuice was there for a good time. He spotted Y/N as soon as he walked in the door and knew he had to talk to her. The other succubi warned her not to mess around with Beetlejuice but Y/N was way too intrigued. After a night of endless flirting, she pulled the demon man into what used to be her old room. And the two were hooked on each other since 

The pair were like ‘friends with benefits’. But friends that had deep mutual underlying feelings for each other that they would never admit. Whenever Y/N was home she would invite Beetlejuice over. While sex was one of their main bonds, they still just enjoyed each other’s company. Y/N loved Beetlejuice’s sweet talk and the ability to make her laugh. Beetlejuice loved her dominant personality and the fact that she always listened to him talk about anything. 

Although Y/N genuinely liked listening to Beetlejuice’s wild stories, she also had her own selfish reasons for being so engaged; she loved listening to man’s voice. Most people in the Netherworld thought of Beetlejuice’s voice as literal nails on a chalkboard. But whenever she heard his deep scratchy voice scream out “Babes!” when he walked in the door, it drove her wild. Don’t even get her started on when they have sex. Hearing Beetlejuice’s voice moan and grunt over her was like she’d been sent to heaven. 

Y/N wasn’t actually sure if Beetlejuice actually knew about her secret fixation or not; spoiler alert, he did. And she always took note at how he’d get more vulgar when telling certain stories. His yelling and swearing louder at the peak of a story made Y/N more aroused than she’d like to tell. And, of course, he’d never complained when she stopped him mid-sentence to attack his lips in a fever-ish kiss.      

****  

Y/N walked out of her bathroom finally feeling refreshed from a steaming shower. Although she loved her succubus title, she hated the stench that would linger after spending a night with a human man. The smell of desperation and sex was perfect in the moment but she wanted it off of her once the high came down. Although many Netherworld occupants didn’t feel the need to follow basic hygiene since they were dead, Y/N did. 

She sat down on her bed and pulled her long coily black hair into a low ponytail. After every feeding, the purple tips in Y/N’s hair would go back to their beaming tint. It symbolized that her demon needs were met. But yet again, her personal needs weren’t met. 

While she was gone, Beetlejuice was also gone. Out trying to find unsuspecting humans to say his name three times. Another one of his far fetched plans that Y/N listened to but never took too seriously. And although both demons were in the human world, they never found time to see each other. Y/N was handling her own responsibilities so she never had time to stop and entertain the green haired demon. 

As Y/N walked into her living room, she looked around for something to do. She was dressed in only her silk black robe and a pair of lace black panties with her breast remaining free. She plopped herself down on the couch and let her brain think. One of the many sources she had of entertainment was Beetlejuice. But he was gone so she had to find something else to keep her busy. Maybe she could just rest and rela-

*RIIIING*

Y/N rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. It was finally her day off and some random person had to interrupt that. Y/N got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Everything in the Netherworld was vintage and antique. Which made the 20 year old in her excited when she first moved in and saw an old landline phone hanging on the kitchen wall. This had better not be those dead football players again, she thought. Y/N grabbed the phone after the 4th ring. 

“Hello~?” Y/N said in her now normal seductive tone. One of the things her mentors taught her was to always answer the phone like she was a sex operator. ‘It adds character’, they always said.   

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to answer their phone.” The all too familiar voice of Beetlejuice echoed through the phone. Y/N felt a faint shiver run down her spine. She was caught up in her own thoughts for a second before clearing her voice and speaking again. 

“H-hey, Beetlejuice. Long time no see, or hear, I guess.” She stammered a bit. Dammit, she was supposed to be one of the fiercest succubi in all of the Netherworld. Yet here she was losing that whole persona over a demon who wears stripes for a living. 

“And whose fault is that, babes? I’ve called you like 100 times and you’ve never answered.” Beetlejuice claimed with a mock snarky attitude. Y/N scoffed.  

“Okay, I’ve been in the human world working. Not all of us get to be free ghosts that come and go as we please.” She shot back, playfulness all in her voice. She then leaned her body against the wall next to the phone. 

“You were in the human world? Why didn’t you tell me, babycakes? I could’ve made arrangements to see you!” Beetlejuice practically screamed through the phone.

“I did tell you, Beetlejuice. You just have very selective hearing when your hands are on my ass.” Y/N explained and the phone grew silent for a moment.  

“…As true as that may be, we are going to disregard that.” Y/N laughed at the demon’s comment. That’s when he proceeded to tell Y/N about the new couple he was watching, the Maitlands. An average, middle class, white suburban couple. Apparently it was almost their time to die and Beetlejuice was going to use them to haunt their house. While listening to Beetlejuice mouth off about the couple, she moved back into the living room. Sitting herself back on the house while twirling the phone’s spiral cord between her fingers. 

“Is that why you called, BJ? To tell me your new master plan? And how are you calling me from their anyway?”

“Oh, the Maitlands have an old rotary phone in their attic. Apparently the husband, Adam, likes to collect antiques. And I called cuz’ I wanted to check on you, duh. Gotta make sure my babes is okay.” Beetlejuice attempted to mumble the last part but the demoness still heard him. Pulling her finger out of the phone cord, Y/N placed her hand over her heart.

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Mr. ‘Ghost with the Most’ does have a beating heart after all.” She mocked. This time Beetlejuice scoffed.

“Don’t go spreading it around, kitten. It only beats for you.” Y/N would’ve dived more into that last part had she not been too distracted by the pet name he used. Hearing his scratchy voice call her ‘kitten’ aroused her more than she’d like to admit. She squirmed in her spot on the couch, rubbing her exposed thighs together.  

“Mmm, Beej you know how much I love it when you call me kitten~” Y/N purred out. She began moving the hand on her chest down the front of her body. His gritty voice mixed with the silk of her robe against her body was making her more and more aroused by the second. 

“Getting a little worked up, are we, babycakes? You missed me that much?” Y/N could almost hear him smirk though the phone. 

“Don’t get cocky, Beej. You already know which parts of me missed you.” Y/N’s hand grazed its way down to her thigh, not quite ready to touch herself completely. 

“Hmm, let me guess. That pretty little pussy already wet for me?” And that was it. As his gruff tone echoed through Y/N’s phone, it was just enough to make her go further. She undid the band that closed the robe around her before pushing the silk fabric away and slipping her hand into her lace panties. Y/N slowly grazed her middle finger over the tip of her clit. Chills covered her body as she felt her pussy entirely soaked. She was too wrapped up in her own world to realize that she didn’t even answer Beetlejuice. And he didn’t like that one bit. 

“I asked you a question, babes.” He practically growled through the phone. This caused Y/N’s succubus senses to heighten as her body was beginning to be overtaken by pleasure. Every instance of arousal she’d feel would be boosted by ten.     

“Aaah~ Yes, baby. It’s so wet for you, Beej. Only you.” Y/N moaned as she began to circle her finger around the sensitive skin.   

“God, kitten. You’ve got my dick rock hard right now.” Beetlejuice groaned out. The huskiness in his voice made her get even more wet, if that was even possible. And Y/N wasn’t oblivious. She knew Beetlejuice was touching himself as well. And, God, if that didn’t turn her just as much.

“Ahh, oh Beej~ I need you here. Please, I need you right now.” Y/N begged as the room was filled with nothing but her moans and sighs. She was never ashamed of begging for Beetlejuice, especially when she knew that’s what he wanted. His groans got longer and lower with each word she sighed out.

“Oh, babycakes, you trust and believe I’d be there right now if I could.” Beetlejuice moaned out. He wanted her, of course. He wanted to feel every inch of Y/N with his own hands. But right now, this is as close as he could get and he was going to make it worth her while. “Your fingers are in you, aren’t they?” 

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, feeling more pleasure rise to her pussy as she went to slip her index and middle fingers into her wet opening, pumping them in and out slowly. “Mmm, yes. Ah, Beej, baby. And I’m so close.” 

“Good. Now stop.” Beetlejuice commanded. Y/N’s eyes shot back open. He couldn’t be serious. Not when Y/N was getting so close to her desperate orgasm. One she’d been rightfully needing after two weeks.

“No, Beej, please. I’m so clo-” Y/N whined and protested but continued to rub herself. Beetlejuice knew this and wasn’t having any of it. When he told Y/N to do something, he meant it. 

“I said stop, kitten. I wasn’t asking. ” His voice then got seriously stern, making Y/N feel all too timid. The man was how far away but she still felt the need to follow his commands. Although she let out a quiet whine, she moved her fingers away. The lack of contact made her upset but she still did as told. Beetlejuice knew Y/N all too well and he knew when she’d follow his demands.

“That’s a good girl. Now, stick your fingers in that pretty mouth of yours.” The green haired demon spoke. Y/N couldn’t do anything but oblige. She slowly moved her hand from her throbbing pussy upwards. She lifted her fingers to her lips and placed them slowly into her mouth. Y/N let out a long, drawn out,  breathily moan as she tasted herself. Beetlejuice’s groan mirrored hers.   

“Mm, fuck yeah, babes. You taste yourself? You taste how desperate you are for this dick?” Y/N continued to moan at his words as she moved her fingers around in her mouth. “Get your fingers all wet for me, kitten.” 

Demoness just followed suit. She moved her tongue along her fingers to wet them excessively. Y/N let her imagination wander, thinking of them as Beeteljuice’s fingers. Thinking of how he would wet his fingers with her mouth and then slide them smoothly into her aching pussy, while whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Mmmph, Beetlejuice~” Y/N mumbled behind her fingers. She was getting restless. Fantasies could only take her so far before she wanted the real thing again.

On the other end of the phone, Beetlejuice was getting close to finishing himself. He stood in the Maitland’s attic, phone in one hand and leaking dick in the other. He stroked himself roughly, wishing it was Y/N’s mouth around his hardened erection instead. Taking a guess at how she looked in that moment made the man helpless. She was probably sprawled out on whatever surface with her legs propped open widely as an open invitation for him. He listened to her muffled moans through the phone’s receiver intently. God, the people he’d kill to see Y/N in such a helpless position again. Stuck in his own pleasure, Beetlejuice decided he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Okay, babes. Are they nice and wet now?” Beetlejuice asked, ready to give Y/N everything she needed. 

Y/N pulled the fingers from her mouth and a small trail of saliva followed behind them. God, she thought, this was about to be too great. “Yes, baby.” She sighed out. The groan Beetlejuice let out was almost enough to make her come right at that moment. 

“Mmm, perfect. Now put them inside you, kitten.” The demon man spoke though his own moans. 

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. Her body was hot and aching from her paused orgasm. She quickly moved her hand back into her panties before pushing them into her throbbing pussy entirely. Y/N practically screamed out at the missed contact. Beetlejuice growled louder at her scream and that only made it worse for her. She got back into the previous motion of fingering herself, this time more feverishly and without a slow pace. As she curled her finger against her g-spot as she spoke again. 

“Beej, please. I want to come. Please let me come, baby. Oh god, I wanna come just for you, baby.” Y/N begged without hesitation. Her voice was getting higher as she was right on the edge of her orgasm. 

“Come for me, kitten. Make that pretty pussy come for me.” Beetlejuice growled through his husky voice one last time as he was right on the edge with her.

Y/N’s moan could’ve reached all of the Netherworld as she finally got the release she so desperately craved. She arched her back against the couch as her pussy clenched and spasmed against her fingers several times. She grinded her hips up and down on her fingers as she rode out the sensation to its end. Beetlejuice wasn’t far behind as he pumped his dick just a few more times before his cum spilled all on the floor in front of him. Even though neither beings needed to breathe, the both gasped and panted like the wind had been knocked out of them. The only thing heard through the phone were harsh breaths back and forth. Finally, Beetlejuice was the first to speak. 

“Hot damn, babes. We have got to do that more often.” Beetlejuice sighed out heavily. Y/N sighed along with him in agreement. Her body started to relax as she came down from her high. 

“Mmm, believe or not Beetlejuice, I’d actually prefer the real thing.” She spoke while still rubbing below her. On the other end, Beetlejuice tucked himself back into his pants. Y/N also made an effort to get herself together. She removed her hand from her panties before pulling some on the robe back over her. Y/N didn’t even realize how tightly she was gripping the phone in her hand. She loosened her tight hold on the phone and then heard Beetlejuice chuckle on the other end at her comment.

“You and me both, kitten.” Y/N simply smiled at the man’s voice as Beetlejuice grinned on the other end. 

“Honestly, you should just send one of your clones next time. That might make things a little easier.” Y/N joked. That’s when Beetlejuice let out a loud cackle and Y/N giggled with him. “No chance, Y/N. As if I’d let the boys enjoy you without me there.” He joked back. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. She finally fixed her position on the couch back to how she laid before.

“Don’t you think that’s a little selfish, Beej?” She asked while grinning, already knowing what his answer would be. 

“I can be selfish all I want, babes. It’s part of my character.” Beetlejuice said matter of factly and it was Y/N’s turn to let out a loud laugh. Once she stopped the line grew silent between the two for a moment. Y/N turned on her side, clutching the phone closer to her ear. 

“Beej, how long are you gonna be gone for? I really do miss you.” The demoness spoke fondly. Again, the fiercest succubus in the Netherworld, but she would only let her shy and timid side show for Beetlejuice. Once the demon man heard those words, his dead heart ached longingly. 

“Oh, babycakes. I don’t really know. But I promise, as soon as I’m done with these dopes here, you’ll be the first person I come to see.” He reassured sweetly. Y/N felt a small blush creep its way to her cheeks. 

“You promise?” She asked flirtatiously. Beetlejuice let a wide smirk fill up his face. 

“Yeah, kitten, I promise.” He spoke lowly and Y/N felt like she was melting. Before Y/N could say anything else, “Well, I gotta run, Y/N.” 

Y/N sighed with disappointment. “Alright, have fun watching the Maitlands.” She said as she sat up on the couch. 

“I’ll do what I can, babycakes.” The man spoke. 

“Bye, Beej.” Y/N stopped but she wanted to say more. Yeah, she wanted to talk more but she wanted to add something to her goodbye. Something long lasting. Something like an ‘I love you’. But she didn’t. 

She ended with, “You’d better keep your promise.” Before she heard Beetlejuice laugh one last time.

“I will, I’ll see you sooner than later, kitten. Bye.” And with that, the dial tone rang through her phone receiver. 

Y/N sighed and let her body hang loose on the couch. Her hand fell to the side off the couch as the phone hung loosely in her finger. Y/N placed the back of her other hand on top of her forehead before getting lost in thought. She had it bad for Beetlejuice. And one day she was going to have to admit her feelings. Maybe when he came to see her after he was done with the Maitlands. She’d come straight and say ‘I love you, Beetlejuice’. One day she would have the courage to let the words out. Even though the demon man was already gone, all she could say was,  

“Sooner than later, Beej.” 

Thanks for reading💜🖤💚

[dreamingwaytoolate]

Last Hope |Chapter 1|

Warnings: Not much? Gossiping. There’s a fight at the end, but nothing physical is described.

Length: 2.3k

Summary: When the famous superheroes of Neo City suddenly disappear, a misfit group of teenagers are the only chance the city has at surviving.

Inspired by this moodboard

-----

Jeno sighed as he settled down in his desk. Morning practice had been rough, and he was ready to fall asleep, but unfortunately a day of classes awaited him. A couple boys from the track team entered the room and sent him polite smiles as they made their ways to their desks.

Jeno couldn’t help but sigh. It wasn’t like he wanted to quit, but he just couldn’t keep up. With school, soccer, baseball, and being captain of the basketball team there was just no way to do it all.

Unfortunately, the track team didn’t seem to quite understand Jeno’s predicament. He was one of their best sprinters, after all, and they were losing him.

But Jeno reminded himself that it was for the best, despite the guilt that clawed at him whenever he saw his former teammates.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class, but the teacher was nowhere in sight. Some kids began to chatter curiously, but moments later the door swung open and the teacher stepped in. He was followed by a boy with orange hair.

“Class,” said the teacher. “This is Liu Yangyang from China. He will be joining our class starting today. Please welcome him and help him if he needs it.”

The class began to murmur among themselves, watching the new student. The new kid, Yangyang, shifted a bit and readjusted the backpack hanging off his shoulder. “Why don’t you go have a seat beside Jeno,” the teacher suggested. “Jeno, raise your hand.”

Jeno did as the teacher instructed and the teacher encouraged the new student to go ahead. Yangyang smiled slightly at the teacher and made his way over to the empty seat next to Jeno.

When the boy was settled Jeno offered his hand and a smile. “I’m Jeno.”

Yangyang looked at Jeno’s hand for a second before accepting and offering a tight lipped smile in return. “Yangyang.”

“So you’re from China?” Yangyang nodded. “What made you decide to move here if you don’t mind me asking? Kind of an awkward time in the year to start at a new school.”

Yangyang merely shrugged and turned his attention away from Jeno to the board where the teacher was beginning to write. “I’m spontaneous like that.”

Jeno furrowed his brow slightly at his answer, but the teacher turned back to the class to begin his lecture so his chance was gone.

Throughout the lecture, Jeno would glance over at Yangyang to see how the boy was faring in a Korean biology lecture. However, the boy was diligently writing down the notes on the board and didn’t appear to be too confused either. Or at least, that’s how it looked to Jeno.

It was about 20 minutes into the lecture on cell structure, when suddenly the door opened and in steps none other than Lee Haechan. With his silver hair, leather jacket, and piercing eyes no one in the school dared mess with the boy. He was known for causing trouble, and people knew to steer clear of him.

“Mr. Lee, how nice of you to join us,” remarked the teacher.

Haechan smirked at the man. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Moon.”

Mr. Moon sighed. “I’ll be seeing you in detention later, Mr. Lee. Now please, take your seat.”

Haechan made his way through the isle of seats, ignoring the way that people noticeably shifted away from him until he stopped beside Yangyang and Jeno’s desk.

Jeno grimaced as he watched Yangyang, who stared ahead at the notes on the board, mouthing them to himself quietly. The boy had unknowingly been sent to one of Haechan’s seats of choice in the classroom.

Haechan knocked on the desk, gathering Yangyang’s attention.

“You’re in my seat,” Haechan told him firmly.

“Oh,” Yangyang looked around, noting the way people were watching the exchange with both trepidation and curiosity. “Well, Mr. Moon told me to sit here.”

“Well, now I’m telling you to find another seat.”

Yangyang stared back at Haechan and without a moment of hesitation replied, “Why don’t you? You were the one who walked in 20 minutes late.”

Jeno held his breath; he should have stepped in earlier perhaps, but he hadn’t expected Yangyang to respond so boldly. And from the the way Haechan’s jaw set and his fists clenched, neither had he.

“Fine,” he gritted out, continuing on to the back of the class and occupying one of the empty seats there and throwing his backpack down with a large thud. The class stared at Yangyang, who swallowed at the feeling of all the eyes on him. He had a feeling he’d messed with the wrong person. And on his first day of all days.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself in Mandarin.

-----

If there was one thing Park Jisung hated, it was school.

Or rather, talking in school.

If Jisung could just coast through the next few years of high school without saying a word to anyone, life would be good.

But alas, that was not the case.

He had a presentation to give today, which meant all eyes would be on him. He tried to swallow his nerves as the student before him on the attendance sheet finished her presentation and class began to clap.

That meant he was next.

I can do this, he thought to himself assuredly. I can do this.

But as the girl returned to her seat, panic overtook Jisung. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.

He shot up from his seat and made a break for the door, successfully managing to slip out of the room without being noticed among the applause. Just like always.

He’d have to make it up, yes, but Jisung would figure that out later. For now he just had to busy himself until the period ended. And not get caught.

Jisung figured the bathroom would be a safe place to stick around for the next half an hour and began to make his way there. But on his way there, he passed a hidden corner tucked away in one of the halls and spotted a flash of pink and brown hair very close together. Jisung quickly realized what was going on and sped down the hall towards the bathroom, his ears turning red.

He shoved open the bathroom door and let out a breath, expecting to be alone, only to find Mark Lee of all people staring at him from the sinks, in the middle of washing his hands.

Mark might be two grade levels above Jisung, but he was established enough in the school that it was impossible for Jisung not to know who he was; senior class president, editor-and-chief of the school newspaper, a tutor, and active member of Jisung didn’t know how many clubs. 

“You okay?” Mark asked, switching off the faucet and grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands.

“Huh?” Jisung blinked. “Oh, um, yeah.”

Mark surveyed Jisung skeptically. “You sure? You just rushed in here like you saw something you weren’t supposed to.”

Jisung almost laughed at the accuracy of the boy’s assumption, but would never admit such a thing. He shook his head, stared down his feet and muttered, “It’s nothing.”  

Mark looked like he wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it. He didn’t know this boy, and it wasn’t his place to pry. Instead he offered the kid a kind smile and patted him on the shoulder as he left.

Jisung stood there for a moment before leaning back against the cool painted brick. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

There was still some time before the period was over and he breathed out a sigh and shut his eyes as Jisung realized where he was spending it.

-----

The set was a disaster.

When the director had come to Renjun that morning, asking for help on the set, he hadn’t imagined the extent. He knew that they were behind, but from the looks of it barely any of the background was done.

Renjun groaned. This was going to take hours. Maybe even days.

He looked around the auditorium, but most of the other students were all cast members who were preparing for rehearsal. And the rest of the kids in art club had probably already left for the day.

Which left Renjun on his own.

Great.

With a disgruntled breath Renjun rolled up his sleeves and began spreading out his supplies. It was going to be a long afternoon.

As Renjun ran his brush over the ruined paintings he could overhear bits and pieces of the conversations of the actors and actresses on stage.

“Hey, can you help me run lines?”

“I just can’t hit this note, and I feel like the director is going to blow up at me one of these days.”

“Do you know how that one move in the first song goes?”

“I saw him three different times this week with three different girls,” said a girl’s voice.

A laugh from another girl. “Na Jaemin is something else. He’s got some guts going around like that with girls.”

“Maybe so, but you can’t deny he’s good-looking. I mean, did you see his pink hair today? No one else could pull that off.”

Renjun rolled his eyes. Jaemin was the biggest flirt at SM Academy. The kid was nice enough on his own, but it was best to steer clear of him when it came to relationships. Renjun himself had witnessed many tears in the halls, all victim to the charms of Na Jaemin.

As Renjun continued to work, hushed whispers fell among the cast members. Curious, he glanced up. A boy with brown hair entered the auditorium. Renjun thought he looked vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place his name.

“Here comes Zhong, marching in late like it doesn’t affect the rest of us.” A scoff. “Who does he think is? We’ve got a show to put on.”

“Considering all the money that kid comes from, he probably never had to understand the importance of punctuality. People waved it all his life.”

“Can’t believe a sophomore got the lead role in the musical,” the first boy grumbled.

“His parents probably bribed the school so that their precious boy would be the star.” Disdain dripped from the second boy’s voice.

Now Renjun recalled who the boy was. Zhong Chenle was a year below him and a musical prodigy if there ever was one. Of course, people tended to focus on his wealthy background.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late, I had to stay after class because one of my teachers--”

“Save it, Zhong,” snapped one of his cast mates. “We’re already past start time. Get your script and lets run the banquet scene.” Renjun watched as Chenle  nodded and pulled his script out of his bag, joining the other cast members on stage.

Renjun shook his head as he turned back to the background he had to finish. It wasn’t any of his business. He had a job to do, and that’s what he would do.

-----

Jaemin walked down the street from school, his phone ringing with the incessant notifications from all the people seeking his attention. Most other days he probably wouldn’t have minded, but not today. He released a breath before silencing and pocketing his phone.

The silence was good for him.

Of course, it never seemed to last long enough. As he was walking, the city sirens rang. There was a criminal on the loose, and the supers would be arriving.

As much as Jaemin wanted to stand around for a glimpse of them, he had enough common sense to keep walking home in case things escalated. Usually, the heroes of Neo City were good at containing their fights and wrapping them up quickly, so Jaemin wasn’t too worried.

Jaemin continued on his way home before he noticed that his surroundings were getting increasingly noisier. Jaemin stopped and looked around, eyes widening when he saw that just a block away Neo City’s very own heroes were fighting a man in a grey suit.

Jaemin gaped. So many times he’d seen them on the news, but never in person. Even though he’d only noticed them for a few seconds, the heroes’ opponent had noticed him too. The foe began making a run towards Jaemin, and Jaemin  didn’t even notice the change in events until a transparent shield was put up around him. Jaemin blinked, startled when the grey suited man ran directly into the shield that was currently surrounding him. Suddenly, a firm arm grabbed him and whisked him out of immediate danger into the nearest alley.

Jaemin looked up to meet the eyes of Power Surge behind his bright blue mask. “You okay, kid?” Jaemin managed to nod.

The man seemed to relax a bit before settling a firm gaze on Jaemin. “What were you doing just standing there?”

“I-I was coming home from school and then you just kinda all appeared down the street,” Jaemin tried to explain, though he knew it sounded weak. He’d heard the sirens. He could have taken more precautions. But he hadn’t.

“Be careful. We won’t always be able to catch you before trouble hits. You’re lucky Zeus spotted you and was able to put a shield up in time.” Jaemin nodded as Power Surge spoke. Power Surge studied him before putting his hands on both his shoulders. “Head home out of the other side of this entrance. You should be safe. And take more care in the future with these kinds of things, okay? There are dangerous people out there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Power Surge smiled at him briefly before running off to join the fight. For a moment Jaemin considered staying to watch, but then he remembered how worried his mom would be that her son wasn’t home when there was a fight going on in the city. Especially today.

No, he had to go.

With a final look back at the fight, Jaemin jogged down the alley that would lead him home.

________________________________________________________________

a/n: sooo I’m trying a thing! Now that classes have been moved online I might be able to get some writing done, so I thought not why not give it a shot?

I linked a moodboard at the top where you can find more details about the main characters (aka nct dream & yangyang) if you’re interested.

I apologize that there isn’t a whole lot of action/superhero stuff in this chapter until the very end, but I wanted to give a basic introduction to each of the characters before we delve too deep into that. Of course, we’ll learn more about them as the story progresses!

Feel free to send me your thoughts and feedback! I’d love to hear it!

[madpanda75]

“Escape Room Escapades” Part One

So sorry I’ve been MIA. Work has been sucking my soul and leaving me with no energy to write (end of the fiscal year...amiright 😂) 

ANYWAYS, this was a fic request from @thatesqcrush​ for her birthday about Rafael and the reader getting locked in an escape room with the prompts: "That’s probably the fastest I’ve ever done that” and “Isn’t this considered public indecency? We could get arrested!” from this lovely smut-filled list. 

@thatesqcrush​ I’m so sorry I’m late with this! Happy Belated Birthday, doll,

Part One sets up the scene but expect a smutty part two tomorrow. Also please forgive my crappy editing. ❤️ 

You sprinted up the steps into One Hogan Place, muttering apologies to people as you pushed past them towards the elevator. Your foot suddenly cramped up and you cursed yourself for not choosing proper footwear for the marathon you just ran. After a long sleepless night, you had hit your snooze button one too many times the next morning and ended up running late to the monthly meeting Jack McCoy held with all the district attorneys.

Finally you reached the elevator and pushed the button, sighing in relief when the doors immediately opened. You stepped inside and leaned back against the wall, wiping the sweat off your brow when a familiar voice pierced through your tranquil moment.

“Hold the elevator!” A briefcase suddenly swung between the closing doors, allowing them to retract enough for Rafael to enter the car with you.

You lifted your eyes to the ceiling and groaned. Rafael was the reason why you had pulled an all-nighter, preparing summaries of court cases you took over for him while he was on leave without pay.

Rafael arched a brow. “Nice to see you too, Y/L/N,” he dryly said, hitting the button to the appropriate floor.

“Barba,” you mumbled and stared at the wall.

“Do you have those court cases for me?”

“Yep, worked on them last night.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile and patted your briefcase.

He turned towards you expectantly. “Well, let’s see them.”

“It can’t wait till after the meeting,” you replied with a sigh. Rafael crossed his arms and stared you down. Obviously the answer was no. You rolled your eyes and handed him your purse, allowing you to use both hands to rifle through your briefcase. Papers and pens fell to the floor at your feet while searching for the bulky files.

Rafael nudged a fallen pen with his toe. “Ever think about organizing yourself, counselor.”

You scowled, finally finding the files in question and handing them over. “Ever think about not biting the hand that feeds you.” The elevator came to a halt. You stepped out as soon as the doors opened, trying to get away from Rafael before he started nitpicking at your work.

Unfortunately you weren’t fast enough, Rafael was right behind you, hot on your heels. “Heard you plead out the Jenkins case.”

“It was the best course of action given the circumstances. There was no outcry or physical evidence. Our victim kept changing her story. We’re lucky we got the defendant on the registry and 5 years probation,” you argued. “Are you going to look into every case I handled while you were on leave?”

“That depends. Did you take the easy way out with all of my cases,” he retorted.

Having had enough, you stopped him in his tracks right in front of the meeting room. “Barba, let’s get one thing straight. When you went away, your cases became my cases. Meaning they are no longer your concern. Now I gave you the court summaries out of the goodness of my heart, but from now on, stay out of my business and my work. Are we clear?”

You stared down the handsome ADA. It felt like you were facing off with a bear in the woods. You reminded yourself to show no fear and refuse to back down. Rafael narrowed his eyes at you. “Crystal clear” was his tense reply, moving past you to enter the meeting room.

*****

At the meeting you tried to listen to what Jack McCoy was saying but your mind kept wandering over to Rafael. When you first started working at the D.A.’s office, you found him to be smart, sexy, and a damn good lawyer. Back in those days, you were cordial to each other, exchanging pleasantries and small talk whether it was in the elevator or waiting in line for coffee. You admired him and it wasn’t long before you had developed a crush. You suspected your crush may not have been one-sided when you ran into each other at a charity gala not too long ago. That night the witty banter between you both crossed over into flirtation along with a distinct look of desire in his eyes that matched your own.

After the gala, a serial rapist and murderer began targeting young girls and blackmailing those who were involved in the case. You had heard Rafael was one of the unfortunate blackmailed targets. Rumors circulated around the office about what he had done in the past, but you ignored them, even chastising your secretary when you caught her spreading gossip. To be honest, if you were put in Rafael’s position, you may have done the same thing he had.

When it was announced that he would be going on leave without pay, you offered to take over his cases. Although it doubled your workload, you were happy to do it. You wanted to show him that it didn’t matter what he had done in the past. He still had a friend in you.

But when Rafael came back, everything changed. He was cold and callous, showing no signs of gratitude for helping him out. He would meet with you for hours, splitting hairs over every finite detail, criticizing the job you had done. You quickly realized that Rafael wasn’t the man you knew and you grew to despise him.  

You looked up from your notes only to lock eyes with Rafael, holding each other’s gaze from across the expansive table for a split second before focusing your attention back on what your boss was saying. Not a minute later did you stealthily peer across the table again to steal another glance at him, drinking in his hypnotic seafoam green eyes, the strong aquiline nose, the thick dark hair that was beginning to grey, making the man look even more distinguished. Despite all attempts at hating Rafael, there was still this underlying lust-filled desire that you just couldn’t shake. He may have been an ass, but he was undeniably handsome. You watched him twiddle his pen between his long fingers as his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

Shifting in your seat, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to feel those large hands caress your body, his fingers stroking you as you begged for more, his mouth muffling your pleasure-filled cries with a kiss.

Like a record scratching, you came back to reality when Jack McCoy called your name. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Excuse me,” you replied, your cheeks still flushed.

“Does that sound ok to you?”

“Absolutely. Looking forward to it, sir.” You smiled, not sure what you had just agreed to.

“Perfect. It’s all settled then,” he said. “So this Saturday, you, Walters, Patel, and Barba are going to do an Escape Room.”

Looking around the room in a panic, you saw that all eyes were on you. “Escape Room?”

Jack McCoy nodded. “That’s right. It’s a team building event, a chance to learn how to communicate better through problem solving. We’re splitting everyone into groups and you four are the lucky ones who get to go first.”

“Terrific,” you mumbled and glanced over at Rafael who was currently pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was in the beginning stages of a migraine. At some point in a past life, you must have done something horrible and now you were making up for it, threefold. Not only were you going to be spending your day off with Rafael, but it also happened to be your birthday weekend.

After you were given the location and time to meet for Saturday, Jack dismissed the meeting. You and Rafael both came up to the door and tried to leave at the same time.

“After you,” he grumbled, allowing you to exit first.

As luck would have it, you and Rafael had offices that were right next door to each other. The pair of you walked side by side down the hall in silence when you saw Detective Carisi running towards you.

“Hey Counselors, I was just checkin’ to see if you had that warrant for Peter Chapman’s apartment. We’re chompin’ at the bit to get in there and see if we can find somethin’.”

Just as you were about to respond, Rafael cut you off. “I’m headed to Judge Reyes’ office this morning. You should have it in an hour.”

“Actually, I have that warrant right here.” You reached into your briefcase and pulled out the signed slip of paper. “I happen to know Judge Reyes’ favorite watering hole and his affinity for top-shelf tequila.” You gave Rafael a pointed stare. “It’s my case now, remember? Let me know if you need anything else, Sonny.” You smiled at the detective and flipped your hair back, walking away.

Rafael stood there, left in the dust.  His eyes raked over your form, watching your hips sway with every step. The intoxicating smell of your perfume still lingered in the air. God, you drove him crazy.

Sonny arched a brow, noticing how Rafael couldn’t peel his eyes away from your ass. “Ya’ know, she’s single,” he said, causing Rafael to whip his head back toward the detective. “Just sayin’.” Sonny shrugged.

“Shut up, Carisi.” Rafael rolled his eyes and headed into his office. “Carmen, hold all my calls,” he told his paralegal, shutting the door and sitting at his desk.

*****

After reviewing your case files, Rafael sat back and rubbed his hand across his face. Damn, you were good. From your first day at One Hogan Place, Rafael had noticed you. How could he not? Apart from being beautiful, you were a brilliant lawyer. Whenever he could get away, Rafael would often sneak into the courtroom to watch you in action. You were razor-sharp and ruthless but there was also an inherent kindness to you. It was more than just winning a case, you showed compassion and empathy towards victims. There was also an undeniable sexual attraction. Sitting in the courtroom, he would try to suppress the carnal thoughts he had while listening to your closing summations. If you only knew the dirty deeds he wanted to do to you. It all came to a head at the gala. Typically at these functions, Rafael would have a glass or two of scotch, say a few quick hellos to the important people and sneak away, but that night was different. Seeing you saunter into the room, wearing a dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, Rafael was drawn to you, like a moth to a flame. Then the David Willard trial happened and everything changed. Rafael was lucky that he had only been given leave without pay for his past actions. When he came back to the office, his confidence had taken a blow as did his reputation. Everyone around him was talking about the elusive incident. Rafael couldn’t walk into a room without people glancing his way and abruptly changing subjects. The only person who didn’t seem to get caught up in the rumor mill was you. While on leave, Rafael had heard you had taken over his cases. Knowing that SVU was in your capable hands brought him some relief but it made him feel threatened. What if while he was away, the D.A. saw what an incredible job you were doing and decide to make his leave without pay more permanent. Rafael knew he was on shaky ground and was determined to find his footing once again. He knew he was hard on you. The flash of hurt in your eyes when he addressed you just about broke his heart, but he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way of his job. He had a career to protect and you needed to understand that. It was better that he keep his distance. Of course Rafael hadn’t anticipated being locked in a room with you but he shrugged it off. He could certainly handle himself in an awkward situation. It was one afternoon. What’s the worst that could happen?

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @raulmonamour​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @imjustreallynosy​

[platonicone]

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 28 - The warmth of cold

What can melt a frozen heart? I wonder…

It was 7 a.m. and he was already up and running. As soon as he stepped out of his room, a medic was standing there with his medicine in hand. Knowing that medic was simply following Luna’s order, there was no point in arguing with him. He took his pills and made his way to the manor gates.

The silver-blond woman showed up a few minutes later. He looked at Aranea and she wore a long fur-lined black coat and a muted red scarf with matching fingerless gloves. The zipper of her jacket has a large round accessory with a red gem. Her long-heeled boots matched her leather trousers.

“Aren’t you overdressed?” he asked, as she approached closer.

“No, dummy, you are underdressed. Go back and put on more layers of clothes. It is below freezing where we are going.”

“I think I should be fine,” he brushed it off.

“I can’t take any chances. Your girlfriend would kill me if you get hypothermia,” she exclaimed.

“For the last time, Luna is not my girlfriend,” he shook his head.

“Who said anything about Luna? You brought her up. The proper response should have been, ‘I am an emo loaner and I don’t have a girlfriend.’” She smirked.

“Ugh. I hate you,” he moaned.

“Aww sweetie, I hate you too,” she replied, playfully punching on his arm.

“Whatever,” both Squall and Aranea said at the same time.

“So predictable,” she caroled in a singsong voice. He just ignored her.

“Now go put on some more clothes while I raid the pantry,” she instructed, walking in the manor.

Once ready, they made their way towards the railway station.

“Are we going by train?” Squall asked.

“No, we are going in that,” she pointed at an imperial airship.

“Is that safe?” he asked with concern.

“There is no place safer than that. It is my airship,” she proclaimed.

“Wow!” He marveled at the state-of-the-art airship.

“Hello Lady A,” welcomed Biggs, as they entered the airship.

“Hello Biggs and Wedge,” she greeted her loyal companions. Wedge just nodded in response.

‘Hmm. Biggs and Wedge, these names sound familiar.’ He wondered.

“Thank you so much for taking care of things at Lucis.”

“It’s our pleasure lady A,” Biggs replied courteously.

Everyone saluted her as she walked into the ship.

“You never told me your rank,” Squall noted.

“Because it’s not important,” she brushed it off. “But if you must know, I am the commodore of the Niflheim Empire's Third Army Corps 86th Airborne Unit.”

“Impressive,” he admitted.

This airship was the first time Squall got a close look at Imperial technology. It was a scientific marvel. The airship’s thrusters roared, and within seconds they were soaring in the sky.

They were barely a few klicks away from Tenebrae when the entire landscape changed. The lush green terrain was replaced with layers and layers of unending snow. The temperature dropped sharply.

“What’s our mission?” he asked, looking outside from the window at a frozen snowscape.

“To retrieve a legendary item called Frozen Tear,” she stated.

“What’s so special about it?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. The legend has it that whenever Shiva suffers immense pain, a tear escapes her eyes and due to the extreme cold, it is crystallized instantly. It is said that the luster of this Frozen Tear would put a thousand diamonds to shame. Niflheim retrieved one such tear when they killed Shiva,” Aranea informed.

“One of our scouts reported observing Frozen Tear on Shiva’s corporeal body. We will go check it out and if it’s true, we will grab it for ourselves before Niflheim can get their hands on it,” she briefed.

“But, aren’t you working for Niflheim?”

“It’s complicated,” she stated, clearing a strand of hair on her face.

The snowstorm outside was intensifying with every passing second.

“Lady A, we won’t be able to go much further because of this snowstorm. You would have to get there on a snowmobile from here,” informed Biggs.

“That is fine. You can drop us here,” Aranea agreed to the plan.

“Alright, lowering the altitude,” he announced to the crew.

“Your snowmobile is in the hanger,” Wedges informed.

Aranea nodded and got up from her seat. Squall followed her as well. She opened the door connecting the cabin and the hanger and made her way in.

Squall stepped in and looked at the snowmobile. It was a military grade snowmobile with a high-caliber machine gun mounted on it. He noticed a strange carving near the bottom of the vehicle. He crouched down to inspect. It had Trepe etched into it.

“That’s the name of my snowmobile,” Aranea revealed, looking at his quizzical expression.

‘Trepe, where have I heard that name before?’ He wondered.

“I did not know you liked to give names to objects,” he pointed.

“Shut it, scar-face.”

“What is this ship called?” he inquired.

“It’s called Save the Queen. I am not very sentimental about names, but having names makes things easier to locate,” she reasoned.

“Strange choice for a ship name,” he remarked.

She just shrugged. “The crew came up with it.”

Once Squall got up from examining the snowmobile, Aranea handed him something. “Take this pill.”

“What is it?” he asked, inspecting the red gel pill.

“This pill would prevent body temperature from dropping down even in extreme conditions. A mad scientist named Dr. Verstael created it when we fought against Shiva.”

‘There was a mad scientist in my world, but for some reason, I can picture him wearing clown’s clothes. Weird.’ His mind recollected a distant memory.

Squall took the pill and swallowed it quickly.

“Lady A, this is as far as we can go. Let me know when you are ready and I’ll open the hanger,” said the overhead voice of Biggs.

“Can I drive?” Squall asked with the eagerness of a child.

“I know this terrain better, so I’ll drive. How about you ride it on the way back?” she offered.

“Deal,” he accepted, reluctantly.

After sitting properly on their snowmobile, Aranea gave the signal to open the hanger.

A cold wind rushed in as soon as the hangar door opened.

“Ready to go?” she asked, glancing back at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Always,” he replied, giving a thumbs up.

She glided her snowmobile, Trepe, from the hangar onto the snow. The snowmobile landed, sending puffs of snow in all directions.

“We go north from here,” she declared, looking at the inbuilt compass next to the speedometer. “Also, brace yourself for the cold.”

“Where are we?” he asked, looking at their surroundings. Everywhere he looked was just a sea of white snow.

“We are in Ghorovas Rift within the region of Vogliupe. This is a treacherous icy terrain enveloped in a perpetual blizzard,” she informed.

They went at slow speed for a while, which made Squall wonder if that was the max capacity of the snowmobile.

“Ready for some thrill?” She asked, breaking the silence.

Before Squall could even respond, Aranea floored the accelerator and zoomed away. Squall didn’t know if he should be thrilled or scared.

The frostbite and the chilly wind felt like it was cutting through the skin, yet the speed at which they were going gave a satisfying thrill. As the speed picked up, the adrenaline took over, giving them a thrill of their life. The snowmobile seemed to glide on the snow almost frictionless.

In spite of low visibility because of the blizzard, they were now close enough to see the giant corporal body of Shiva.

Aranea suddenly braked hard, causing her snowmobile to spin a couple of times. Squall barely held on as it spun out of control, eventually coming to a stop.

“What happened?” he asked, breathless.

“Daemons,” she growled, narrowing her eyes.

Squall immediately looked around, but could not see any threat. “I don’t see any daemons,” he stated.

“Not around you, look beneath you,” she instructed, jumping off the snowmobile.

He looked down, and the snow started to shift on its own. Suddenly, hordes of Snaga came out all around them. The 4 ft monster was relatively weak, but what it lacks in strength they made up with overwhelming numbers.

“Be careful, they like to steal potions from people,” Aranea warned.

Both being seasoned fighters made the fight easier. After clearing the horde of Snaga with relative ease, they continued their journey deeper into the blizzard.

The path got narrower through the snow-covered woods as they progressed, eventually to the point where the trail was just wide enough for their snowmobile.

They soon came to a stop, as the only path forward was blocked off by fallen trees. They got off their vehicles to clear out the path, only to be ambushed by Wraith. It was a 9 ft tall macabre daemon that levitates. It kept its victims at arm's length to grapple and squeeze the very life from its prey.

They were surrounded by 10 Wraith, shutting down any chance of escaping. They closed in on them slowly as both warriors stood there with weapons ready to strike.

“Any bright ideas?” Squall asked.

“Wraiths are slow-moving. If we hit them from the back, we can link up our attacks.”

“You go, I’ll distract them.”

Aranea nodded and with one high jump disappeared from the sight and landed a few feet behind the Wraiths.

Squall released a salvo of bullets from his gunblade at multiple Wraiths enraging them. Some rushed towards him for a physical attack while others targeted him with a magical attack. Squall deflected all physical attacks and used other Wraiths as the cover to dodge the magical attacks.

“Incoming at 6 o’clock,” declared Aranea, preparing a high jump attack.

Squall knew what she meant and replied, “Ready.”

Aranea’s attack the Wraith directly behind Squall and he capitalized on that vulnerability to execute his link attack, Relentless Revolver. Together they decimated the Wraith in one conjoined attack.

Aranea jumped back to create some separation between her and wraiths while Squall drew their attention.

“3,” he heard Aranea say.

“Okay,” he stated, giving the signal to attack.

The Wraith to the right of Squall was decimated next.

Leon and Luna made a balanced team with one focusing on offense and the other providing the defense. Squall and Aranea, on the other hand, were an all-out offensive team, that could devastate the mightiest of foes. They were like a well-oiled machine working in perfect synchronization.

Knowing the fighting excellence of Aranea, Squall never had to worry about protecting her as he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself, which made it different from fighting with Luna. Aranea had the same trust in Squall’s abilities, which made them a fierce team.

One after another, they picked off all the Wraiths and continued their journey further.

“This used to be a holy site. Pilgrims from all over Eos would come here to pay tribute to the Goddess of Ice. In M.E. 745, Niflheim slew the awakened Astral Shiva, leaving her gigantic corpse lying in the gorge. A strange phenomenon turned part of the desert wasteland into a dark icy landscape ever since. We lost many lives that day. It is said that those fallen soldiers became daemons and haunt these very grounds,” she explained.

“You mean to say that the Wraith we slay back there were people once?”

“Yes. It changes the whole perspective of the fight, doesn't it?”

“Yeah.”

“Niflheim has started converting civilians into demons to gain an advantage in the battlefield. I don’t agree with that practice. I signed up for the military so I could protect those who can’t protect themselves, not for this. I’ve been thinking about quitting and going back to being a mercenary. But I do love my country too. I am not really sure what to do anymore,” Aranea narrated.

“I see,” he replied, sounding uninterested.

“Is that all you are going to say?”

“What am I supposed to say about other people’s problems?” he replied callously.

“You know are such an ass sometimes. When someone shares their problems, they are expecting you to either console or advise them. And not be indifferent about it,” she chided him.

“I am sorry. I wasn’t trying to be indifferent towards your problem. I just didn’t think that my opinion on this matter would have swayed your decision,” he revealed.

“Why would I ask your opinion if it didn’t matter to me, dumbass? You are my friend, of course, your opinion matters,” she urged.

“Ask yourself, would you be able to do more good by staying with the Empire or against them? If you stay with the Empire, you get information on their movements, research, and can protect civilians. As long as you have something worth protecting, I think you should stay,” he counseled.

“See, was it so difficult to just share your thoughts? You think too much and never say enough, that’s why that scowl never leaves your face. Sharing your thoughts is a necessity in a healthy relationship,” she advised.

“Ya, you are probably right,” he acknowledged.

Once again silence accompanied them as they moved on.

“You haven't said anything, is my charm making you nervous?” she joked, breaking the silence.

“Oh please,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Squall. Is there something on your mind?” Aranea asked.

“Not really,” he replied.

“Not really,” she said, almost in sync with Squall. She broke into giggles.

“What's so funny?” he asked, getting annoyed.

“Funny? No, no, it's not that! I'm just happy. I feel like I'm finally beginning to understand you a little. That's all,” she stated, clasping her hands.

“I'm more complex than you think.” He folded his hands and looked away like a child.

“Then tell me. Tell me more about yourself,” she appealed.

“It's none of your...”

“...Business!” she finished his line and started laughing once again.

“You are annoying,” he fumed, before walking ahead.

They cleared out another horde of Wraiths as they got closer to the fallen Shiva.

“We should walk from here,” she instructed as snow intensified. “Welcome to the resting place of Shiva.”

The cold wind amplified with every step they took towards Shiva. The visibility dropped greatly as the snowstorm picked up. They had to put a hand in front of their face so snow doesn’t go into their eyes directly. The corporeal form of Shiva was hundreds of feet tall. She lay on the ground froze in time. Her entire body was submerged in the snow with her upper torso visible. The expression on her face was of pain and anguish.

Once they got close enough, Aranea shined a laser on Shiva’s face.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“This is a special laser which would refract from a prism. Using this, I am trying to locate the Frozen Tear.”

She had been scanning her face for a few minutes, but she did not locate the legendary treasure. She was starting to believe it was a myth.

“Let me try,” Squall appealed, finally getting tired of waiting in this extreme cold.

“If we don’t find it in the next two minutes, we leave,” she declared, handing him the laser.

The two minutes had gone by and even Squall wasn’t able to find anything.

“We should go now. This was a waste of time,” she complained.

Just as he was retreating the light away from Shiva’s face, Aranea noticed something shinning.

“Wait, I got it. I saw something shining just as you were retreating the light. It was somewhere around her left eye.”

Squall scanned the area carefully. Finally, a rainbow-colored pattern was formed at the edge of her eyes because of refraction from prism-like Frozen Tear. Shiva’s hair covered the edge of her left eye, masking the tear.

“This is awesome,” Aranea exclaimed. “I’ll go get it.”

She tossed her spear towards Shiva and warped there. Her warping was different than the ones Lucian soldiers used, it left a red trail behind indicating magitek use in it.

She proclaimed the mythical treasure while Squall stood there wondering what it would feel like to warp.

“We got it, Squall,” she proclaimed, hugging or rather tackling Squall in excitement.

Squall pushed her off and got up first, “Good. Now, let’s get out of this frozen hell.”

As they were making their way towards the snowmobile, a hailstorm of snow flew in their direction as something huge landed with a thud. They turned around and a 46 ft tall demon awaited them.

“I was wondering where did the Deathclaw go?” Aranea said with an eerie excitement.

Deathclaw had a bulky bone structure. Its name stems from the giant talons on both of its arms. Fighting one is said to equivalent to tempting death itself.

“Let’s get the party started,” she said, readying her spear.

“Aren’t you excited to see him? Your boyfriend?” he suggested.

“No, based on the looks, it must be your relative.” She retorted.

“Whatever,” he said, as he launched into the daemon.

“Squall, be careful of its laser attack,” she warned as she took the aerial route.

Squall unloaded a round of bullets as he ran towards the monster, but it barely flinched. Aranea landed on top of him, impaling her spear, but it shrugged her off.

Both the warriors took turns attacking it from either end, not giving it enough time to use its deadly laser.

A few Wraiths and Snaga emerged from the snow, joining the fray. This distraction gave Deathclaw enough time to conjure its magical laser attacks. The rays spun around it and flew out in straight lines, damaging anything in its path.

Because of snow, Squall’s mobility was severely limited and was unable to dodge the attack in time taking the brunt of the damage.

Aranea landed behind him and healed him with a potion. “Told you to be careful.”

“Sometimes pain brings the best out of you. Here goes, Renzokuken,” he unleashed his limitbreak and followed it up by the Blasting zone causing enormous damage to the beast.

“Not bad. Now watch this,” she jumped and disappeared from the sight and landing square on the Deathclaw with great impact. Her technique, Highwind, was equally effective as Squall’s limitbreak.

The game of one-upmanship carried on as both tried to outdo the other. Which was great for them, but not for the beast.

The Deathclaw created some separation from them and drew its claws together to form a single large laser beam. By now they were familiar with the attack pattern, so they dodged it expertly. However, the powerful laser beam had landed on their snowmobile and bore a hole through the fuel chamber.

Aranea was closer to the snowmobile noticed fuel leaking from the vehicle, “Shit.”

“Squall we need to run,” she yelled.

Squall, who was engaged in close range combat with the beast was oblivious to what had just transpired. “We can defeat this. I got this, don’t worry.”

“Squall, Trepe was hit by the laser attack and our fuel tank is damaged. We have to retreat before all the fuel leaks out.”

“Damn, without snowmobile we would freeze to death walking all the way back,” he realized.

“Come on, hurry,” she urged.

Squall landed one fierce blow on Deathclaw causing it to stumble back. He used this opening to dash toward the snowmobile. Aranea of her part was ready to drive away as soon as Squall gets there.

The snow made it very difficult to run as his feet would sink in the snow with each step he took. Deathclaw had recovered enough by now and started chasing Squall.

Squall was trying his best to run as fast as he can, but the Deathclaw was catching up quickly. “I am not going to make it, you leave and come back for me when you can. I’ll defeat this and find shelter somewhere,” he yelled, running towards Aranea.

“Did anyone tell you that you give out stupid ideas sometimes? I am not leaving you here to die in this cold. Your pill would wear out in a few hours and without it, you would be a statue like Shiva.”

“Come on, be pragmatic,” he urged before turning around and shooting Deathclaw a few times.

“I am not telling your girlfriend that you died under my watch, she would kill me,” Aranea replied.

“Stop being annoying and listen for once. I’ll find a way to survive, trust me.” He commanded.

“Stop being stubborn and listen for once. You don’t have to be a hero every time.” She countered.

The Deathclaw pounced on Squall and he parried its attack in time. He fought with Deathcalw again to damage it enough to create some separation. They were losing fuel with every passing second.

After sufficiently damaging the daemon Squall ran again. He was getting close to the vehicle when Deathclaw got up and lunged itself towards Squall. The demon was right behind him now, he could sense its breath. It raised a claw to take a swipe at Squall when it was impaled with bullets.

Aranea was manning the machine gun on the snowmobile, unloading on Deathclaw. He ran. The monster chased him. And a friend impaled it with bullets to save him. It all felt like a déjà vu.

“You drive, I’ll take care of this,” she instructed.

Squall hopped in the driver’s seat and they sped away while Aranea shoots at the Deathclaw, keep it at bay.

Soon they were out of a narrow trail and into the open and seemingly endless field of snow. They speed away as the fuel gauge was almost empty. Soon the snowmobile came to a standstill.

“Not good. We still have a long way to go. It would take us hours to get to the airship on foot.”

“The sun will set in a few minutes,” he added, further complicating their situation.

“Biggs, can you hear me?” she asked, tapping her communication earpiece. She waited but got no response.

“I think we are still out of range,” she admitted, disappointingly.

“Then let’s keep walking towards it till we get in range,” he suggested and starting to walk.

Neither of them said much as they pondered for a solution for their precarious situation. Considering their distance from Shiva, the chill wind was relatively bearable now, although visibility remained low because of the blizzard.

Aranea kept testing her earpiece frequently, but she got no response. After 20 minutes of walking, Aranea finally connected with Biggs.

“Biggs, can you hear me?”

“Lady A, there is a lot of background noise, I can barely hear you,” replied Biggs. The gushing wind in the background drowned out her voice.

“Squall, can you stay quiet please?” she turned around and said to him.

“What? I haven’t said anything!” he defended, taken by surprise.

“I know, I am just messing with you,” Aranea said with a grin.

“You are insane to be joking at times like this,” he complained, with a facepalm.

“Biggs, Trepe broke down and we are stranded, can you send a rescue team please?”

“All I heard was Biggs, breakdance and rescue,” Biggs relayed to Wedge.

“What? That makes no sense. Let me talk,” said Wedge, taking Biggs’ earpiece.

“Lady A, this is Wedge. Can you please repeat yourself?”

“I said Trepe broke down and we are stranded, can you send a rescue team please?”

“Lady A, we can barely hear you. Can you try from a different location please?”

“Okay,” she resigned.

“What did they say?” inquired Squall.

“They can barely hear me,” she cited, as she marched in the direction of the airship. After walking for 10 more minutes, the wind had slowed down considerably.

“Can you hear me now?” she inquired.

“Yes, Lady A, we can hear you loud and clear,” came the reply from Biggs, who had taken his earpiece back from Wedge.

“Trepe broke down so we are walking towards the ship.”

Biggs tracked her location using the inbuilt GPS in her earpiece.

“Lady A, you are a considerable distance away from the ship. I can dispatch a rescue team but it will be nightfall by the time they get there.”

“What are my options?” she questioned.

“We can dispatch teams to escort you back here. We’ll have to fight daemons on the way back,” he offered.

“No, that would be reckless. We might lose some men if we do that,” she disputed.

“Your safety is our priority, Lady A,” Biggs argued.

“And to keep my crew safe is mine,” she replied instantly.

“But Lady A we--”

“My decision is final. You are not to dispatch any rescue team at this hour.” Her commanding tone left no room for argument.

“Then what can we do?” Biggs asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, unsure.

Squall chimed in, “Aranea you mentioned that this used to be a trail for pilgrims, right?”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Then shouldn’t there be heaven somewhere?” Squall wondered aloud.

“That’s a great idea! Who says you are dumb,” she said, playfully punching his arm.

“No one says that!” he replied, taking an offense.

“You get flustered so easily, it’s almost cute,” she replied with a laugh.

“You are unbelievable,” he hissed.

“Tell me about it,” she replied, with a playful wink.

“Whatever.”

“Guys, is there a haven nearby? This used to be a trail for pilgrims, there has to be a haven somewhere.” She inquired.

“Let us find out and get back to you on that,” Biggs responded.

Biggs frantically scanned the terrain to find any spot where they could get shelter. Wedges dug through the archive data for any clue.

It was over five minutes and she still heard nothing from them.

“Lady A, we found something,” announced Wedge, in an excited tone.

“There is an old haven by a thawed lake just two klicks east from your current location.”

“Great! We can spend the night there. You can send the rescue team at sunrise.”

“You got it, Lady A,” Biggs affirmed.

“What did they say?” Squall asked curiously.

“There is a haven two klicks east from here. If we hurry, we should be able to make it by the nightfall.”

“Let’s go then,” he said, walking in the east direction as the darkness was starting to take over.

Author's notes:

So, what do you think about this chapter? Let me know in your comments below. If you don't have much to say then at least say 'Hi' so I know someone is reading this. It would really brighten my day. Thanks :)

PS: I hope everyone is safe and healthy in this COVID-19 outbreak. Isolate and prevail. Introverts (like me) have mastered this skill lol