#taking a break from con crunch to spit this out

[alienaiver]

Heart-shaped Narutomaki

Shinsou Hitoshi x gn!reader

warnings: light mentions of detoriating mental health, poor self esteem but not a main theme wordcount: 2k content: fluff, valentines day special!, sfw, gender neutral reader, poc and body type friendly reader, established relationship, soft love, affirmations, surprises, giving men flowers is important to me, no use of y/n, timeskip, pro hero shinsou, canon compliant with few canon divergences (shinsous acquired a scar that isnt canon), time to treat the male on valentine i think!, reader is bff with midoriya, COMFORT, reader is described to wear jewelry but not which kind, not beta'd

notes: hewwo! :3 another shinsou fic straight from my shinsou-obsessed brain juices. in this universe it's a rather new relationship, albeit established! reader is best friend with midoriya and who helps with the elaborate shenanigan. happy valentines day yall ily!!!!1 im smooching you and giving you a bouquet of flowers i found in the wild<!!!!3333333

You turn the corner of the hallway with a bright smile, giddiness giving way to the spring in your step. The cellophane wrapper of the bouquet in your hands make a crinkling sound as you pass it around in your arms, being as gentle as you’re able. Midoriya spots you from the end of the hall and waves excitedly before signaling with a pointer the location of your boyfriend. He’s in his office to the left, writing up a report with a false deadline. He thinks he needs to turn it in before his patrol tonight, but it’s not due until tomorrow. There’s perks to being best friends with the number one hero, after all, and you’ve been given permission to utilize them to the fullest tonight.

Shinsou has an evening patrol that he absolutely cannot dodge and the apologies he spouted a month ago when he found out still makes you ache. The date itself isn’t important to you, you’ve always thought you could celebrate any other day of the month and it’d still be as romantic. But at the same time you and the people around him have noticed the burn-out he’s close to reaching, and decided he needs to be treated.

And then the planning came into play. It helps that Shinsou works at Midoriya’s agency, giving you full opportunity to utilize aforementioned perks.

Midoriya hurries to disappear as to not seem obviously complicit as you reach the entrance and hide the flowers behind your back, leaning against the door frame in what you hope is an attractive pose. Your outfit’s inspired by his hero costume, complimenting the black and grays with purple jewelry and accessories sprinkled in.

If Shinsou notice you, no movement betrays it, face glued to the screen in front of him as he scrolls rather aggressively with the mouse in his hand. You clear your throat and wiggle the flowers to get the crinkles to catch his attention. He looks up unhurried with confusion laced onto his face before he realizes who’s standing by his door. His expression immediately softens as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” he says gently, leaning back in his chair and clears his throat, “what brings you here?”

If you wanted to keep it cool, you’re unable to with how bright you’re smiling, shoulders tensed from the excitement of the surprise. You giggle as you enter his office, revealing the bouquet of flowers from behind you, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

His eyes widen for a split second before he laughs, “aw, you came with these for me?” he hurries to get up and greet you, a hand to your hip and a chaste kiss to your lips, “lemme go see if there’s a vase in the kitchen.”

He accepts the bouquet from your hands with the utmost care, eyes twinkling in a way you hadn’t expected. He looks like a child on Christmas Eve who sees Santa Claus putting presents under the tree. The magic seems to be shining through his every being.

As he exits the office you take stock of the surroundings; it’s usually abundantly clear how he’s doing based on the tidiness of his work space, but there’s no glaring pointers when you look around. You circle the desk to see the picture he has of you framed; a candid shot taking at Eri’s 18th birthday party and next to it the picture of him and his dads from his U.A. graduation.

You smile as your fingers trace absentmindedly over the desk, hoisting up the bag on your shoulders. He comes back with a laugh, “there was a vase that fits the color scheme of his bouquet perfectly, isn’t that amazing, babe?”

You pretend to be surprised and not reveal to him the part about Midoriya planting it in the office kitchen specifically for Shinsou to find it after your arrival, “what? No way!” you smile, watching him put it gently at the desk, sighing out almost wistfully.

“It’s the first time I’ve gotten flowers.”

You circle the desk again to reach him and wrap your arms around his neck to give him a kiss on the cheek before he turns his face to get one on the lips. It feels meaningful and deep. After you pull away, you see that his eyes are still closed, chasing the feeling. You smile and whisper again, “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

Shinsou leans his forehead against yours and smiles, huffs out a small laugh, “thank you.”

You let the moment linger, basking in this point in time of being with him, feeling his warmth on your waist where he’s holding you, listening to his breathing. When he pulls away slowly to, presumably and regrettably, kick you out you hurry to interrupt him with a playful pat to his shoulders, “I brought you a change of clothes. The reservation’s in 15 minutes so you better hurry.”

Shinsou’s brow raises at you and he shakes his head, “can’t, babe. I know my patrol’s not for another hour but I have a report to finish.”

You smile,”your patrol’s not for another two hours. Starting when you sit your ass down at the restaurant. That’s a bargain I made,” you wink and hand him the bag of clothes. Puzzled but complying, Shinsou takes the bag and looks into it. The dress shirt he once confessed he feels the most handsome in is there, folded and pressed, together with his favorite pair of ripped, black jeans. He looks up at you with wide eyes and the excitement you’re exuding is warming him from the deepest part. With a disbelieving laugh he pushes the bag back towards you, “still have that report, though.”

You sigh theatrically with your shoulders poised before you push the bag against him again, the game of reverse tug a little fun. Your hands travel over his arms back to his shoulders, “you know I love your work ethic,” you catch his eyes, “but trust me when I say I have this planned out, okay?”

You peck him on the lips and let your arms fall back to your sides, “this is the thing I’ve been planning for weeks,” you wink and Shinsou laughs. It’s more a huff of breath out of the nose, but the smile indicates that he’s finally processed what’s going on. You’ve planned a Valentine’s surprise for him.

The restaurant isn’t fancy or typical of Valentine’s. Your friends all recommended all kinds of cliche spots that would be sure to blow your boyfriend away, but you know him and his preferences. He likes when it’s personal and home-y. His obsession with having a home only started to make sense to you in the recent months of your relationship. You hadn’t known of his past or his life at the orphanages until very recently.

So you decided that this, the first place he took you on a date would be perfect. When he realizes where you’re headed, he keeps squeezing your hand in barely contained excitement and laughs bashfully whenever your eye catches his. It’s absolutely adorable and your own butterflies are soaring at the unmistakable happiness and love he emanates towards you.

When you arrive at the local ramen shop hand in hand, the local owner, an uncle type of man greets you excitedly, giving you a not-so-subtle wink as he maneuvers you to your regular seat at the back. When you’d come down a few days ago to reveal your plans to him, he’d gushed about how honored he was to host such a thing and even suggested to make you a special ramen, which only made you all the more sure that this had to be the special spot.

The owner waits on you as if you’re at a real restaurant, bringing you the chopsticks and the glasses from the counter where it’s normally a self-serve kind of function. Shinsou can barely look the man in the eye, embarrassed to be treated with such high regard at his local eatery.

You talk about his day, of the coming patrol tonight, the report he needs to finish and you tell him of the cats at home. How you made sure to feed them before leaving and how long you’ve been planning this date. He reaches for your hand as you start to tell him of the trip to the florist for purple flowers, of the chats with Midoriya on how to make this work. It’s all very relaxed and comfortable, smiles and glances exchanged between sentences.

When the food arrives, you both gasp. His more silent than yours but no less surprised. You know there’s a style to prepare ramen bowls, but he’s taken it to the next level. Not only has he taken his time to cut the narutomakis into small hearts, he’s also cut your nori seaweed into heart shapes too. It is so beautiful and endearing that you can’t help but bow your thanks excessively at him. He sheepishly scratches his neck as he announces how it wasn’t a big deal and that his two favorite customers only deserve the best on such a special night before he retreats to his kitchen.

After he’s gone, you fish out your phone from your bag to catch a picture. Shinsou starts pushing his bowl gently towards yours so that you can get a picture of them both but you push it back towards him to indicate you want a picture of him with the bowl. He looks at anything but you for a moment, a shy smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head, “I’d ruin the picture,” he admits sadly and you lower the phone to look at him properly. The scar that he’s attained on the left side of his face from a particularly nasty fight with a villain has yet to heal or completely disappear, and ever since then he’s been reluctant to be in pictures.

You try not to sound condescending as you coo at him, “you are the most handsome man I know. You would compliment this beautiful bowl and I promise you can check and approve the picture afterwards, okay?”

He sighs and lets his shoulders fall before he complies. You smile at him and raises the phone anew, angling the camera perfectly. The light falls on his right side, making the scar less visible in the low light of the room.

“Say cheese.”

The picture comes out absolutely wonderful and you’re unable to hold back a squeal of excitement as you grip the phone close to your chest, letting the love you have for the man in front of you rush through you. He patiently waits for you to show him the picture and when he does, your heart aches at the way he visibly relaxes, eyes softening at the way you caught him looking naturally relaxed and handsome despite how tense he felt. He nods approvingly before you both get ready to eat.

“I almost don’t wanna ruin it,” you whine and Shinsou laughs, “me too.”

Full of both the deepest broth, noodles and love, you walk back towards the agency hand in hand. The silence is comfortable between you, the hum of the town surrounding you.

Before you reach the agency, Shinsou stops in his tracks and retracts his arm, scratching his head. “I… I’m not sure how to properly thank you. I’ve never… uh, never had a proper Valentine’s date before.”

You smile mischievously as you lean in to catch his eyes, “I’m amazing, right? But really, there’s no need to thank me – seeing you enjoy the night is way more thanks.”

He rolls his eyes before he pulls you in close, “I mean it, thank you. You make me feel so many good things and I’m so terrible at voicing them. Thank you for planning this.”

You snuggle your cheek into his chest with a warm sigh, “you’re welcome. I love you.”

He kisses the crown of your head and squeezes your hip, “I love you, too. So much.”

[fake-bleach]

fallen star | darkish!ezra x reader

summary: You're lost, alone, and looking for your family in the middle of a planet you know absolutely nothing about. That's until you encounter a man who offers to help you, giving you more than you bargained for.

word count: 9k (crazy i know oops)

warnings: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), bit of a slow burn but not rly, dub-con smut (ezra convinces reader to give in), kinda manipulative/creepy ezra, unprotected sex, virgin!reader & is innocent as hell so.. innocence kink?, age gap (but reader is of legal age & an adult ofc), piv (pls use protection), fingering, foreplay, nipple play, crying from pleasure, slight spit kink, size kink, breeding kink, praise, degrading, dirty talk, all that good, filthy shit - lmk if i missed anything!

author's note: hi all! this is the first official writing i've ever done so please feel free to give me any suggestions, notes, etc! i've been so inspired by the incredible writers on this app, such as @mypoisonedvine & @toxicanonymity's fics & wanted to give it a try for myself! i'd appreciate it so much if you could let me know if you'd like more from me as well! hope you all enjoy <3

ao3 link | masterlist

The heat and humidity sticks to your skin while you run, desperation seething through your teeth as you take a deep breath. You inhale sharply as you finally take a break to sit on the ground. The bright, green scenery around you consumes you as you look around frantically, having seen the same trees and leaves over and over again. You're practically running in circles at this point.

You're stuck, and quite frankly, losing hope.

You've lost your family amidst this strange, new planet, as your father convinced you and the rest of your family that there would be hope to discover new materials and minerals that you'd be able to sell. You all would be rich and finally 'comfortable', not having to live off of the things you'd be feeding off on day by day, as your father said..

What a load of shit.

You're unsure of where exactly your family had gone, as you woke up two mornings ago to an empty tent; the "home" that provided you no privacy for the past few weeks, whatsoever. Since then, you've been on the search for them. They're all you've ever known, and despite the immense pressure and burden you've had on your shoulders for being the eldest sibling, you needed them.

You've never been out in the real world on your own. At least, not without your father to help guide you and provide reassurance in what you were taught to do.. what you had to do. You were completely dumbfounded and unsure of what you'd do next in this planet you hardly knew of, and to your knowledge, barely had any population.

The solitude you've experienced the past 48 hours has been torturous to say the least, and the scraps of food you were luckily able to find were running low already. You were getting tired already. How could you survive if you could barely last a day?

As you catch your breath, you begin to stand back up, prepared to continue on your journey and in hopes of finding more food and water. To your advantage and luck, this planet was breathable, giving you one less problem to worry about. As you lift yourself up back on your feet, you hear the crunch of a branch around you.

You quickly turn your head towards the sound as your breath hitches, your heart racing a bit faster. Your mind wanders to the worst case scenario, unsure of what might be out there. You weren't even sure if there were any creatures or other dangerous species out here.

The one thing you did know was that there were dangerous people out there. There was that constant reminder in the back of your mind, engrained from the repeated lectures that your dad gave you as you grew up.

"Sure, there are monsters out there, honey.. but it's the humans that'll get ya for good. They're the real monsters."

With his words roaming around in your head, you slowly take a step back as you continue to frantically look around, seeing nothing but the same leaves, trees, and branches filled in your eyes. You lick your lips nervously, clearing your throat to prepare yourself to sound tougher than you look.

"Who's there?" You yell out harshly, showing that you're no one to mess with. But to the unknown force watching you, it's not convincing one bit.

Silence fills your ears as nothing responds to you. No voice, no steps.. not a single sound. You take a long pause before you start to open your mouth again, until you see something out the corner of your eye move closer, yet subtly towards you.

Quickly whipping your head around to look towards that direction, you gasp faintly as you see a man approach you slowly. His hands are up, almost in a surrender. "Hey, hey, now.. no need to be afraid.." he says softly to you. The accent that his voice lets out consumes your ears as you take a step back, your eyes looking over him, taking in his presence. He's the first person you've seen in the past 48 hours and you're shocked, and more notably, afraid.

"Step back.. Stay away." You let out sternly, grabbing your small switchblade from your pocket to aim it towards him, trying to prevent him from getting any closer.

He was a tall man with messy, black hair, and a patch of white leaking towards the front. He seemed exhausted, looking at you with hazy eyes and on the brink of passing out. "P-Please, girl.. just need some help, I swear," He says as he licks his dry lips, breathing in harshly, "Been out on my own for a couple of days now.. and I'd assume.. you've been on your own, too."

You scoff as you shake your head quickly, denying the fact of the matter, "N-No, sir, you'd be wrong. I'm just getting back to my family, that's all. I can't.. I can't help you." You tell him as you glance around, a small brink of hope in your chest telling you that your family would be right there. But, you knew deep down, that would never be the case.

You look back at the man in front of you as his hand reaches towards yours, gesturing you to put the switchblade down, "Come on now, no need to do that. We can stick together, huh? I can help you get back to your family, you can help me get some food and supplies.. How's that sound? Keep each other some company, yeah? Then I'll be out of your way.." He tells you with a soft chuckle, a small grin forming on his lips in hopes of you to agree.

You back up a bit more before feeling your back hit a tree, making you sigh harshly as you lick your lips, thinking of what you should do. Your mind races as you think of all the possibilities that can come out of this. If this man was genuine and just needed some company and a bit of help.. he might be able to help you get back to your family.

As long as you kept your distance from him, you'd be okay.. and you would be able to finally find them. You wouldn't have to worry about being on your own anymore.

You look at him with stern eyes as you begin to reply, the grip of your hand on the switchblade tightening, "I don't even know you. You're a stranger. What makes you think I could trust you?" Your voice is a bit shaky as you speak, unsure on what decision you should make.

"That's right, birdie.. I'm a stranger, I know, but I guarantee you that I'm only tryin' to help you. You help me out too, and we'd be doing each other a favor. Killing two birds with one stone, if you will.." He proposes to you, his voice a bit gentle and soft as he tries to persuade you into joining him, giving you a small smile. "You just.. gotta put a bit of faith in me, that's all. I'm sure a pretty girl like you's got a nice heart, hm? We can help each other."

He nods at you as he finishes, taking a step towards you with his hand reaching closer to your switchblade. You breathe out faintly as you nod back at him, slowly bringing your hand back down to the side of your body. You flip the switchblade back and insert it into your pocket, your eyes never leaving his.

You bite your lip nervously as your heart begins to relax a bit, relenting, "I.. Okay, let's say I say yes.. What's in it for me? What makes you reliable in helping me? You said you needed my help too.. what would I be doing for you?"

The shakiness in your voice is evident as he stares at you intently, his eyes focused on you. He chuckles softly, explaining himself to you, "Well, birdie, I know this entire planet like the back of my hand. At least this entire area, that's for sure. More importantly, I know where we can stay for the night. I can give you some food.. a nice, warm place to sleep in.." He lets on, his grin widening as he notices your eyes soften at his words.

He can tell that you're exhausted, the hunger in your stomach increasing as every second passes. He knows what you need.

"Seems to me like you want that, don't you, honey? I can give you that.." He continues as he smiles at you. He seems genuine, even if you can't sense the obscure tone in it. "Just asking for your company, that's all.. that's all I want from you."

You breathe out through your nose, taking in the words he was saying. You're conflicted as your mind races with your fathers' words flooding through your head. But, you know you won't make it out here alone, especially not through another night of wandering on your own without any food or water.

Desperation is getting the best of you.

You gulp and reluctantly nod your head at him, ultimately agreeing to his offer. "Alright, fine, but we're keeping to ourselves, okay? There's no need for us to.. get to know each other or anything like that. You're helping me get back to my family, I'm giving you the 'company' you want: That's it." You establish the ground rules, letting him know that you want nothing else from him.

The man slightly shakes his head at you, poking his tongue against his cheek for a second. He laughs softly and nods, saying, "Alright, birdie. You got yourself a deal. But the least you could do is tell me your name, right? Here, I'll go first.. I'm Ezra."

Putting a name to the face, your eyes soften a bit as you stare at him. Ezra. You acknowledge it and nod your head, taking a pause before telling him your own name.

His mouth forms a bright smile, presenting his nice teeth to you, repeating your name on his tongue. "Lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Now, let me lead the way. Shouldn't take too long." He tells you enthusiastically, looking over at you while he proceeds his way east.

The sun's down by the time you reach the destination that Ezra's led you to. By the time you get there, your mind is hazy, the exhaustion and hunger getting to you with each step you take. Your eyes widen as they lay on the site in front of you; a decent sized tent that seemed much more impressive than the "home" you had with your family for the past few weeks.

Ezra's voice fills your ears, breaking the silence around you outside as he approaches the front of the tent, looking over at you with a grin. "Here we are, honey. Home sweet home." He tells you, licking his lips as he makes his way into it, beckoning you to follow him.

And you do. You follow behind him eagerly, impatiently expecting everything he's promised you: food and a nice, warm place to sleep in. Once you enter the tent, he turns on a lamp that fills the space with light. You're immediately looking around, taking in and cherishing the fact that you're actually somewhere that's remotely cozy and comfortable, just how a home should be.

"Do you like it?" He asks you softly, making his way behind you as you look around with curious eyes. You nod your head, giving him a small smile despite your inability to trust him too much. "It's.. really nice. Thanks, Ezra." You tell him, licking your lips as you pull your eyes away from him to set your bag of things in one of the corners.

The tent has almost everything you'd need in a basic home and it's impressive, to say the least. A small table for you to sit and eat at, a tiny kitchen area, and a decent sized bed that fit perfectly in the corner of it.

You turn your head back towards him, his eyes already wandering over you in curiosity. You ask him eagerly, yet collected, "So.. I was promised food? Can I get that now.. please?" You're trying not to have an attitude, seemingly as this man was kind enough to take you in, but you're starving.

Ezra smiles at you and nods, waving his hand towards his direction to gesture you to come over to him. While he walks towards a decently sized bin, he speaks to you, saying, "Don't got too much here, but it should be more than enough for the both of us the next few days. We'll go out looking for more soon."

You nod and follow him, eagerly looking over his shoulder as he kneels down to open up the bin. It's filled with packs of little food that are meant to get you through a tough journey or for you to get by, but it's definitely not anything special. By all means, food is food and you were more than happy to get what you could.

"Thank you, Ezra, I appreciate it," You say to him kindly as he grabs two bags for you, looking up at you while he places them in your eager hands. He nods at you and gives you that kind smile again, making you grin back at him.

As he grabs his own bags, he closes the bin and stands back up, motioning you to sit with him at the table.

When the two of you sit, you immediately open up the bags and nearly devour your food, your stomach growling in the process of your meal.

You hear a small chuckle as you eat and you look back up at him, mouth full of food. "Slow down, sweetheart. It's not goin' anywhere, don't you worry," He tells you, all while he calmly takes bites of his food, clearly cherishing it more than you are. "The faster you eat, the less you'll enjoy it, you know? Better to eat slow so it fills you up real good." He finishes.

You sigh as you nod at him, agreeing and taking in his advice. You hadn't realized that maybe you should be cherishing what you're getting right now, rather than indulging yourself in it so quickly.

Looking down at your hands, you sigh, apologizing to him. "Sorry.. I've just been so hungry. Thank you.. again. I really am grateful." You finish with a small smile at him, continuing to slowly eat your food and taking in the flavors that were satisfying your palette.

The both of you ate in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked knowing that you had someone with you, regardless of who it was. And from the few hours you've spent with Ezra, he seemed like the right person to be with.

As the two of you finish eating, you're satisfied, and definitely a lot more happier than you were before. You were just ready to end the day and get a good night's rest, exhausted from the relentless journey you were on.

You yawn softly as you shut your eyes, bringing your hand to your mouth to cover it up. Ezra looks at you attentively, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips once you remove your hand. You didn't notice that, though.

He then chuckles at you and shakes his head, smiling widely, "Ready to go to sleep now, birdie? You can have the bed tonight." He tells you, the kindness in his voice seeping through.

You look at him with soft eyes, eyebrows furrowing, "No, no, it's okay, I can sleep on the floor. You're the one who got this place and took me here.. you deserve the bed." You tell him earnestly, unable to accept his offer. Sure, it's just a bed, but he deserved to sleep well tonight too.

Ezra just shakes his head at you and laughs faintly, "No, you take the bed. I take the floor. Don't you worry, we'll have time to make it work.." He lets out, chuckling.

You aren't too sure what he means by that.

You ignore it though, just giving him a small smile instead. He was just being kind, and you were grateful for it.

Nodding your head, you reluctantly give in and sigh out, "Okay, just tonight though, alright? I'll be out of your hair eventually, anyway." He just grins at you as he takes in your words, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Right.. it's just a couple of days." He murmurs out, glancing around the room, pursing his lips. He looks back to you and nods, getting up from his seat as he gives you a grin, "Alright, time for bed, darlin'. You need some privacy?" He asks.

Getting up from your seat as well, you nod your head, slowly moving towards your bag. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks Ezra. I'll let you know when I'm done." You tell him.

He acknowledges your request and walks out the tent, zipping it up securely. You take your spare clothes out of your bag, beginning to change into the comfortable pajamas; the only ones you had left.

You don't feel the eyes on you, staring at your every move.

Getting ready to go to sleep, Ezra's changed into some comfortable clothes as well. He sets up a small area for him to sleep in, right next to the bed that you'll be taking. As he does so, you sit on the bed, staring at his movements.

Still feeling a bit guilty about the bed, you tell him, "Are.. are you sure you're okay sleeping down there? What if you get cold.. or something?" You ask him, gradually starting to care for him more than you hoped or expected to.

He glances up at you, sitting up on his knees as he lets go of the sleeping bag, shaking his head. "Honey, stop asking. This isn't the first time I've slept on the floor, and besides.. it's much more comfortable than you'd think," He replies to you, grinning at your concerns for him, "Don't you worry about me, alright?"

You sigh and nod your head at him, giving into his request to let it go.

"Alright.. goodnight then, Ezra. Thank you, again." You let out tiredly, giving him a final smile. You moved yourself towards the edge of the bed that was facing the wall of the tent, preferring to sleep where you weren't so exposed to any open part of the bed.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." Ezra says, turning off the lamp in the tent before he gives you a final glance.

You turn to your side to shut your eyes, putting your hands underneath the side of your head as extra support from the pillow. You were comfortable, more comfortable than you've been in the past month.

You hear shuffling down on the floor, Ezra moving around in his sleeping bag as he tries to get comfortable enough to be able to doze off.

A couple of minutes go by as you attempt to fall asleep, failing everytime while your body shivers. You had a blanket over you, but it wasn't enough. There seemed to be a constant drift of wind from the outside coming inside the tent, making the heat in your body gradually fade away.

You sighed frustratingly as you softly whispered to Ezra, hoping he was still awake. "Ezra.. is the tent open?" You asked him, wondering if he forgot to close it all the way.

You hear his rough voice, whispering back to you, "No, honey, it's closed.. You cold?" He asks back, leaning up on his arm to look at you.

Turning your head and body towards him, you nod your head and sigh, "Yeah.. sorry, I can't sleep like this.." You let out, annoyed at yourself. You've already asked for so much from him and you were sure he just wanted to sleep already.

He grins at you and begins to get up slowly, saying, "Don't apologize, birdie.. It's hard to sleep when it's so cold," He breathes out, the silence in the room deafening you besides his course voice, "Why don't I come up there? Keep you warm for the night.. I promise it'll help you fall asleep."

You swallow as you think of it, unsure if you should let him be so close to you that way, so quick into your acquaintance. You were so cold though, as your fatigue ran through your body and all you wanted to do was sleep.

So, you agreed. What else was there to lose?

"Okay.. just for tonight." You murmur out, gesturing for him to come on the bed as he nods at you. You lay back down on your side, facing the wall of the tent as you move the blanket so he can have some too.

You feel him get on the bed, the weight and smell of him consuming you just from being right next to you. His hands move the blanket up to lay it on top of himself, sighing contently as he feels the warmth of the both of you surround his cold body in just a few seconds.

A couple of minutes later, as you're gradually starting to doze off, you feel arms wrap around your body, their strong hold pulling you by your waist. Ezra's chest presses into your back, his crotch just below your rear as you gasp softly, the intrusion of physical contact suddenly waking you up and energizing you.

You turn your head slightly to try to look at him, but before you open your mouth to say anything, he cuts you off. "Shh, honey.. just to make you feel a bit warmer. There's no harm in that. Physical contact creates warmth.. you know that, right?" He mumbles to you, just enough to be coherent as you furrow your eyebrows, conflicted by this.

You had just met the man and he was already holding you this close.

You sigh out and breathe softly, saying, "Okay.. I guess you're right," continuing to let him hold you. It starts to feel kind of nice, the warmth in your body increasing as you're both huddled so close together.

As you start to relax again, you press the side of your head to the pillow, allowing yourself to shut your eyes gently and let the sleep take over you.

Your peace is quickly taken away though, as you feel Ezra's hand on top of your hip begin to caress your stomach, slowly moving it lower to the hem of your pajama shirt as he slips his hand underneath it. His hand begins running across your stomach, feeling you.

Gasping softly, you turn your head to look at him again, asking sharply, "What are you doing, Ezra?"

He just hums and continues, his eyes shut. "Shh, sweetheart, c'mon.. Just gonna make you feel better, alright?" He whispers out, his other hand gripping your body tighter against him as the hand on your stomach lowers itself to your pajama pants, starting to slip it underneath the fabric.

You squirm against him as you groan out harshly, "S-Stop, Ezra, stop!" You protest against him, unsure of what to do. Your eyes move around the room frantically as his arms overpower you, holding you still against his chest.

Ezra's eyes open as you squirm against him, making him laugh out faintly at your struggle. His fingers start to roam across your panties, letting them run over your core. His head moves closer to your ear, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Be quiet, honey.. just let me do this, let me make you feel good. It'll keep you warm.."

His hand slips underneath your underwear, quickly cupping your pussy with his entire hand, making him groan out as you whimper, gasping out, "Ezra, please, stop!"

He ignores your pleas, moaning into your ear as his fingers run across your lips, feeling you grow wetter by the second. "Fuck, birdie.. You feel that? You're wet for me.. you're liking this, aren't you, darlin'? It'll feel good, just trust me.." He sighs into your ear, moving his lips to your neck to kiss it softly.

You continue to shake and squirm against him, trying to kick him off of you, but it's no use. He moves his leg over your own, entrapping you against him as you feel his crotch press into your hips and waist. The hard bulge in his soft pants makes you throb, forcing a moan out of you, both from a mixture of fear and unwanted excitement.

"Don't fight me, baby. Don't fight this. It'd be much better for you if you just gave in.. it'll feel so good, sweetheart, please, let me.." He pleas into your ear, pressing two of his fingers on your cunt to find your clit.

Rubbing small circles around your lips, he hears for your moan, indicating that he's found it. He smirks widely as he continues to rub small circles on your clit, feeling you grow wetter by the second as the pressure of his movements persist.

You whine out as your body grows a bit weak, feeling the pleasure build up in your body. Your heart races as you gulp, shutting your eyes tightly. You've never had anyone in your life do this to you before.

Ezra laughs faintly as he continues his motions, "That's it, sweetheart.." He draws out, "Give in, fuck, I know you want to. Anyone ever touch you like this, baby?" He inquires, moving the hand underneath the side of your body you were laying on. He grips your stomach, right below your breasts, and moves his body to lay on his back, taking you with him. Your back lays just against Ezra's side, his left arm wrapped tightly around you, moaning out as he has more control of you like this. He kicks the thin blanket off of the both of you, giving him a view of his hand down your pants and underwear, the moonlight shining through the tent.

You whine out, shaking your head quickly as you feel the warmth grow in your stomach the more he rubs those circles on your clit. "N-No, never, no one's ever touched me like this.." You moan, gasping and panting a bit heavily as you stare down at his fingers moving furiously against you. You can't help but grow wetter at the sight, knowing that it's him who's doing this to you.. but it feels so wrong.

"What I thought, baby.. Knew this pussy was pure." He chuckles, his teasing and almost mean demeanor running through your body, making you shiver and whimper slightly. You don’t know why you like it.

He stops his movements as he slips a finger through your folds, gathering how wet you became, making him sigh out in satisfaction. He pulls his finger out to look at it, showing it to you as well. "Look at that, honey, you're so wet for me now.. Didn't I tell you how good it'd feel, huh?" He lets out as you look at the glistening finger in front of you.

He moves it to suck it into his mouth, moaning around it. Popping it out from his lips, he laughs wryly, "Tastes good too, baby," making you blush furiously. It's so dirty and makes you feel so fucked up.

He takes no time to waste and moves towards your bottoms, quickly grabbing the hem of both your pants and underwear, "Let's get these off now, honey. Wouldn't want them in the way of our fun," and pulls them quickly off of you, making the cold air hit your core.

You gasp loudly as you clench your legs together, not wanting to have him see you there, much less continue.

He looks up at you with dark eyes and places his hands on the top of your knees, warning you, "Don't you get shy on me now, sweetheart. We've already gotten this far. I don't want to make it hurt for you.. I want to make you feel good, baby.." He tells you, his voice gradually becoming softer as he finishes. His hands proceed to grip at your knees, pushing them away from each other to spread your legs for him.

You reluctantly follow his requests, knowing that it would go a lot smoother if you complied. He groans faintly as his eyes latch onto the sight of your wet cunt in front of him, taking it in completely. "Fuck, honey.. what a pretty fuckin' pussy. Gorgeous.." He tells you, the dirty words filling your ears as you blush again at them. You've never had anyone talk to you like that, nor have you even heard anyone speak in that way til’ now.

Your eyes look around the tent, wanting to look at anything else but him and yourself, the shame starting to flow through you. You feel his fingers gently spread your lips apart, making you whimper softly at the feeling. It makes you look down at him and his hands, and you move your legs to try and clench them together again.

He tuts and shakes his head, gripping your knees harshly this time as he pushes your legs away from each other, spreading you for him completely. "You do what I want, baby, and this all goes smoothly, okay? You don't, and I promise you it'll hurt for you."

His eyes are stern as he looks into your own, seeing the angriest he's been so far towards you. You nod your head gently at him, gulping nervously and not wanting to make him any more upset.

The lips on his face slowly turn upwards, grinning at you brightly, "That's a good girl.. Just be a good girl for me," He encourages you, letting his fingers run around your glistening lips again as he moans out softly. "Gonna give you a finger, okay, darlin'? I'll go slow, if that's what you want.." He proposes to you, seemingly wanting to make this enjoyable for you as well.

You nod quickly and sigh sharply, pleading him, "Y-Yes, Ezra, slow please.. Please don't make it hurt."

His smile grows fonder, knowing that he's got you where he wants you now. "Don't worry, birdie, I'll make it good for you.. Just trust me."

The index finger that's right above your clit then moves into your lips, swiping it down between your folds as you moan. He then finds your entrance, pushing it in slowly and as gently as possible, making him groan out.

You gasp softly as your jaw falls open, looking down at his finger entering you. He sighs, "Fuck, so tight, sweetheart.." as his finger then pushes all the way inside of you, thick and long. You pant as you stare at his hand, clenching around his finger. He looks up at you and smirks, lips curling up into another grin, "S'good for me, honey.. Have you ever even touched yourself?" Ezra prompts you, realizing how shocking this was for you.

You move your head to look up at him and shake your head, gasping out, "Just.. just touched myself a couple of times, but never.. put one inside," and you lick your lips, your throat becoming dry, making you gulp.

He chuckles and slips his finger out, thrusting it back into you to see you gasp again, making him laugh. "Fuck, that's hot, baby.. Pretty pussy taking my finger so well. So tight.. Think you can take more?" He asks you, his finger gradually moving faster as you grow wetter, the squelching sounds filling the space more and more.

You moan out louder as you bite your lip, nodding your head at him. It was starting to feel good, and you couldn't help but give in.. forgetting about ever wanting him to stop.

"Good fuckin' girl, birdie.. My god." He says, taking his finger out just enough for it to be outside of your entrance. He presses his index and middle finger together now, rubbing them in between your folds to gather the slick you've produced for him. He then pushes it into your hole once he feels they're wet enough, making you whine loudly.

You gasp out, "F-Fuck, Ezra!" and grip onto one of the pillows next to you, lifting your head to sit up and watch his movements. You feel your body grow hotter by the second, the overwhelming feeling of his slow, yet deliberate fingers moving deeply inside of you, the mere sight of it making you lightheaded.

Your throat grows dry as you pant heavily, feeling nothing like you've ever experienced before. His eyes wander over your body, taking in the view of your worn out face, moaning for him, and your body that's trembling for him, your baggy shirt lifting up and up as you begin to shake.

His gasp is low and loud as he smirks, his mouth falling open as he looks at you, his need for you increasing more and more. As his fingers continue to move, he adds a third finger, making your face twist in pleasure and a mix of pain, the sudden intrusion shocking you. It feels too good for you to even care at this point.

He praises you filthily, moving his free hand to move your shirt up, exposing your tits for him. "God, you're so pretty, honey.. Such a pretty fuckin' cunt. Can't believe I found you, huh?" He says, making you squirm as butterflies fill your stomach with his dirty words and nick names.

He grasps onto one of your tits, squeezing it harshly, but not harsh enough to hurt you. Just right. He twists one of your nipples gently between his thumb and index finger, watching as it hardens and perks up for him. He groans at the view and brings his face closer to them, taking your other nipple into his mouth as he sucks onto it desperately.

You moan loudly, whimpering against him as the pleasure grows immensely. You've never felt this good in your life and you're in absolute bliss. You're not sure how or if it could get better than this.

"E-Ezra, can't.. can't take it, oh god," You cry out, panting even faster and louder as his fingers hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars for a second. It's too overwhelming, too fucking good. Your hands find their way towards Ezra's hair, tugging on it gently, needing him more than ever. You wouldn't even begin to think that meeting him today would lead to this moment.

He finally removes himself from your tits, chuckling darkly as he looks up at you, bringing his head closer to your face. He looks at you intently, with desire and as if you were the only person in the entire world.

His fingers slow down, making you catch your breath a bit, and he removes them from your entrance, bringing them up to your face. "Taste yourself for me, baby.. Wanna see you take my fingers, can you do that, honey?" He whispers softly to you, his three fingertips resting against your lips, waiting for you to open them up for him.

You oblige, nodding your head as you open your mouth for him, allowing him to slip them in between your lips. You close your mouth shut around them, sucking on them gently as you moan out, looking at him the entire time. Your eyes roll back as he pushes them even further into your mouth, making it a bit harder to breathe, but you continue, wanting to please him.

His fingers were so thick in your mouth, and his scent was driving you insane. "Atta girl.. God, you're so fuckin' sexy. Makin' me go all crazy, you know that, pretty girl?" He groans out, bringing his free hand to grip your chin roughly. It makes you whine against his fingers, making Ezra feel the vibration of it through them.

He laughs lowly and slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, looking at them as your saliva connects, providing a string of it as he pulls it away. He just chuckles as he watches it, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. His grip on your chin moves to your cheeks now, squeezing your face a bit tightly as he demands you, "Open your mouth, baby. Open wide for me."

You quickly listen to him, opening your mouth as wide as you can. Before you could even process it, he spits down your throat, making you gasp loudly. "Now, swallow it. Swallow it all, darlin', let me see it." He instructs you, his grip on your face remaining rough and tight.

You nod and close your mouth, swallowing all of it for him. His hand squeezes your cheeks together, making you open your mouth again to let him see that you did what he asked of you. "Dirty, dirty fuckin' girl. Got so lucky, didn't I? Now you're getting it.." He lets out, snickering as you stick your tongue out to prove it.

His words make you feel so filthy, but you can't help but start to love it.. crave it. He's making it harder for you to even breathe right now.

You let out a small laugh, still absolutely worn out and overwhelmed, thanking him as your head feels cloudy. Ezra then grasps onto one of your hands, making you stare at its motion. He brings your palm to his hard bulge, all pent up through his pants, and the way it feels makes you moan. You've heard stories about men and this happening to them, but you never thought you'd be able to feel it like this.

"See how you make me feel, sweetheart? How hard you make me? You know what this means, right?" He says to you, his voice rough and raspy while he palms your hand over his bulge, making him moan lowly. You shake your head, not knowing if what you're thinking is the right answer.

He grins and chuckles, "Means I need your pretty pussy around me, honey. That's the only way I can satiate this.. make it all go away.. You gonna help me with that, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me?" Ezra eggs you on, wanting you to crave this just as much as he does.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you swallow a bit nervously, unsure but curious to know how it'll feel like. You've wondered about this your entire life, and you could finally experience it now.

You open your mouth to speak, hesitating to do so. Ezra softly rubs his other hand towards your inner thigh, attempting to reassure you. "Don't worry, birdie.. I'd never hurt you, if that's what you're concerned about. I'll make it feel real good for you. Make you see stars, honey.. What do you say?" He encourages, leaning in closer to your face.

What else do I have left to lose? You ask yourself, coming to your decision to agree. You pause, nodding your head at his proposals.

"Words, darlin', need you to tell me. Tell me you want this.. that you want me." He tells you, urging it from you as he removes your hand from his bulge to lift his hand to your face, gently caressing your cheek affectionately. It makes you shudder to the touch.

You sigh, inhaling sharply, "I want you, Ezra.. I want this." You admit to him, the arousal running through your body as it reaches your core. You grow wet again, thinking of this actually happening.

He smiles gently at you and leans in closer to your lips, whispering out against them, "That's it.. Atta girl, baby," and presses a gentle, yet firm & long kiss to your lips.

You moan into the kiss, shutting your eyes at the feeling. You've been kissed before, but never like this.. never from a man who's made you feel this good. It leaves you dazed and hazy as he pulls away from you, the need for him growing even more.

Ezra's hands reach for his pants now, grabbing onto the hem as he pulls it down along with his own underwear, revealing his hard cock for you. The sight of it makes your mouth water, wondering how he'll even fit inside of you if you could barely handle a few of his fingers.

Your throat grows dry as you gulp nervously at the thought, making you stammer out, "Ezra.. A-Are you sure it'll be able to fit? I.. I'm not sure if it will.." You confess to him, licking your lips as you finally look up at him.

A soft laugh escapes his throat as he grins at you, stroking his cock gently and slowly, staring at you with a hard gaze, "Don't you worry, honey.. I'll make it fit." He tells you, the nervous tone in your voice all the more spurring him on, aching with need for you. "Now, keep those legs open for me, birdie.. Wanna look at you while I take you."

Your heart races at his words, yet you comply with his requests, knowing that there's no way of getting out of this regardless. Nodding your head and staring at his face intently, you keep your legs spread for him, the cold air hitting your core and making you shiver.

Ezra moves himself in between your legs, grabbing the base of his cock with his right hand as he rubs the tip of it along your wet folds, making him moan out from the feeling. His stare is fixed onto your glistening cunt; the only thing he's been fantasizing about this entire day.

Without warning, he pushes the fat head of his cock into your pussy all while keeping his eyes on your face, wanting to see your reaction to him. Your eyes shoot open from the sudden intrusion, mouth falling open. "E-Ezra!" You gasp out, looking down at his body connecting to yours as you grip the bed to the best of your ability.

He just lets out a sigh of satisfaction, laughing at your reaction, "Sorry, baby.. Couldn't wait any longer. You can take more, can't you?" He pushes you, smirking as he continues to make his way into your cunt more and more, feeling his cock grow deeper inside of you.

Your walls involuntarily clench around him, the stretch of it almost unbearable for you as your shut your eyes, throwing your head back. He wasn't giving you any time to really adjust, and the pain burned while the pleasure slowly made itself apparent with the warmth in your body growing quickly.

Panting, your heart races even faster, unable to stop yourself from opening your eyes. You keep your gaze on the sight of him pushing himself inside of you, making your body feel fuller by the second.

Ezra groans as he continues to push further, gasping out, "Fuck, that's it, baby.. What a tight fuckin' pussy. Fillin' you up nice and good, just like you needed.." The words on his tongue making you throb for him, as he finally buries himself inside of you completely.

Your breath is taken away as his thick cock fills you to the brim, tears beginning to form in the corner of your eyes as your mouth gapes at the feeling and sight of it. He's huge, making it evident that way as you see him bulge out from your stomach.

He chuckles as his eyes follow where yours are, seeing himself in your stomach. He places his hand right there on top of it, pushing onto your stomach so you can feel him right there. "You feel me in you, honey? So deep, I know.. But it feels good, don't it? Takin' every fuckin' inch.." He pants, slowly but adamantly rocking himself against you.

It takes every bit of control in him to not fuck you hard, taking what he wants from you and using you how he wants.

"Gonna move now, baby.. S'gonna feel real good, I promise.." He whispers, reaching for one of your legs to lift it up onto his shoulder, making the angle of his cock push into you even deeper as you groan loudly, the unbearable feeling running through your core.

You just lay there, taking it as the pleasure builds up and up inside of you, his hips pushing and pulling as the speed gradually increases.

He pulls his hips back, his hand pressing harshly onto your stomach to keep you still and full of him, making sure that he pulls his cock out just enough for it to rest at your entrance, wasting no time to shove it back into you.

The burn of his girth and how much it stretches you feels incredible now, making you moan out and shudder at the feeling. With each push of his cock, he fills you completely, pressing his hips to the hilt of your pussy, almost like you're taking him deeper every time.

"F-Fuck.. Ezra— please.. please!" You whine, the tears in your ears now falling down your cheeks at the overwhelming pressure in your pussy. "So.. So good, please, fa-faster.." You plead, your eyes fixed on him completely.

He lets out a filthy laugh, loving how much you're craving for it now. He knew he'd get you right where he wanted you. "That's my girl.. my good girl. Don't you worry, honey, I'll give you more than you need.." Ezra whispers lowly to you, the speed of his thrusts and movements now going at an unbearable pace, making your body shake and move from the force of his hips.

You whine out loudly, choking out as your eyes shut from the rapid change of speed. The noises that your pussy makes from his huge cock hammering inside of you is filthy, making you flush from how it rings in your ears.

"Dirty girl.. You hear yourself? Hear how soaked you are from my fuckin' cock? Can't get enough of this pretty little pussy, honey.. It's too good. Wanna fuck this cunt forever.." He groans out, making your eyes roll back at his words.

His movements suddenly halt as he pulls out of you, grabbing onto your waist roughly to flip you onto your stomach, trapping your legs and hips with his thighs. Ezra quickly grabs hold of his cock, gliding the tip of it through your folds as he shoves it back inside your tight cunt, feeling him deeper than you ever thought you could.

Your back involuntarily arches up, the feeling of him buried inside of you being too much, too deep, as you whale and whine, turning your head to try to look at him. "W-Wait! Too much, please.. slow down!" You choke out, trying to get him to relent.

Ezra just laughs and shoves your head back down onto the bed with his left hand, the other pushing your back down to press your stomach flat. He shushes you, his thrusts quickening as he fills you with each push, "Shh, honey.. Just take it.. You can do it, I know you can, baby.. S'Better like this. Take this fuckin' cock, like the good girl you are.."

Your body convulses at his harsh movements, making your stomach coil in pleasure as you feel yourself grow hotter and hotter, the feeling in your cunt making you sob out. His cock repeatedly hits that spot deep inside of you, making you see stars.. just as he promised you.

His hips continuously collide with your ass, moving his hands to grab handfuls of it, squeezing your cheeks harshly as he spreads your ass for him, watching his cock plunge into you over and over again.

"Fuck, birdie.. Gotta nice ass, too.. So perfect for me." He chuckles out, slapping your ass a few times, making you squirm and groan out from the pleasurable sting. "Mmphf!" You whimper, his hand pushing the side of your face down onto the bed.

You cry out, tears falling down your cheeks as you sob, "T-Too much, Ezra! I.. I can't.."

He shakes his head and tuts his tongue, correcting you, "Yes, you can, you can, sweetheart.. Not gonna stop til' I'm done with you," He says harshly, his tone needy and mean as his movements grow rougher. "Cryin' so pretty for me, baby.. Makin' me so proud.. My girl."

You shake as your body convulses from his thrusts, and Ezra laughs at that, knowing that you're close.. feeling that you're close, as you clench around his huge cock repeatedly, that unrelenting feeling building up in you.

Ezra's arm moves beneath your stomach, grasping onto your waist tightly as he suddenly pulls you up against his chest. He holds you unbelievably close and tight against him, making it impossible for you to move away, keeping you absolutely still for him. His hand at your waist moves to one of your tits, grabbing it hard as he holds you there.

His thrusts hit that spot inside of you repeatedly, pressing into it over and over again as you shake, your body feeling too weak to even hold yourself up. Ezra just does that for you, gripping and taking your body to his liking, as if your body was his.

To be fair, your body already is.

Sobbing out, you scream and shut your eyes tightly, lifting your head up to rest it on his shoulder, his pants and groans filling your ears as you grow lightheaded. "That's it, honey.. Gonna come for me? I feel it.. Feel how close you are. I am too.." He whispers in your ear, moving his free hand down to your cunt, using two of his fingers to rub rapid circles on your clit.

Your eyes shoot up at the feeling, enduring the feeling of your climax increasing as your stomach tightens and coils uncontrollably. "F-Fuck— Ezra! Go-Gonna.. come!" You cry out, your body completely giving out as his cock just takes you.

"That's right, come on my fuckin' cock, baby.. Gonna come too.. fill you up real good, sweetheart.. Make you mine."

Your eyes widen at his words, knowing that he shouldn't.. he can't. "N-No, Ezra, not inside, you can't, I.." You whimper out as your breath hitches in your throat.

He just shakes his head, laughing in your ear, "I can't? I can't? I can do whatever I want, baby. Nothin's stoppin' me.. not you, not your little family.. They're long gone now, honey.."

You whimper and cry out, squirming against him as you try to pull away, knowing that you can't get pregnant. Not in a world like this.

Your pleads just spur him on, all while his fingers on your clit push you further to the edge.

"You know, I was watching you.. following you around all day.. wondering how tight this pretty cunt would feel around me. Fuck.. I was right.. Now, you're mine. Never gonna leave you, baby.. Pussy's too good. Can't let you go.. Can't give this up."

Tears stream down your face as the pressure inside of you builds up with every breath you take, not even processing the words he just said. Your lower body shakes as you try to keep your eyes open, screaming out, "G-God.. M' gonna come!" His fingers apply even more pressure on your clit as he laughs. "Come for me, honey.. Doin' so good for me. Come on my fuckin' cock."

Your ears drown out every single noise in the tent, ringing loudly as your throat tightens, screaming out. Your cunt tightens around his cock, clenching onto him as much as you can as your pussy convulses and writhes against his, seeing stars. He fucks you through it, his pace never faltering as your climax coats his cock with your slick, running down your weak thighs.

He lets go of your body, making you collapse on your stomach as his thrusts go faster, harder. He's close, and you can feel it too, his cock twitching inside of your spent cunt.

His groans fill the room as he hammers into you, gripping onto your ass and waist to keep you still for him. "Gonna fill this pretty pussy so deep, you're gonna feel me for days, honey.. That way, you'll never leave me.. Never gonna feel any other man fuck you this good.. My pretty girl.."

You whine out at his words, knowing how fucked up it is.. but, you can't help but love it.

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling your waist flush against him as he groans loudly, holding you there. His cock is buried inside of you as deep as he can, pulsing streams of his come inside your cunt. You feel him deep inside of you, painting your walls as you sob out at the feeling. "O-Oh, fuck!"

"Fuck, yeah, baby.. All fuckin' mine, Take it. That's a good girl." He sighs out contently, pushing his cock even a fraction of an inch deeper, as far as he can. You whimper at how full you feel, his come running through your pussy, whining at how good it feels for you, even though it shouldn't.

Ezra's body slowly collapses on top of your back, keeping himself inside of you as he finally slows down, beginning to catch his breath, his high deterring.

The tears in your eyes start to dry up and your eyes stay wide open, processing everything that just happened. The shock runs through your body, making you shiver at the thought. You can't help but crave him even more, making you realize that you wanted this.

Ezra moves his hands around your waist to pull you against his chest as he rolls to his side, taking you with him. He pulls you in closer, preventing you from moving, staying flushed against him.

His coarse, gentle voice fills your ears as you shut your eyes, the exhaustion catching up to you, all while his hand runs through your hair, caressing your head affectionately.

"All mine, honey.. Never lettin' you go.."

And he never does.

You never make it back home.

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[awesomerextyphoon]

Speculum Cupido

Summary: You’ve been Dr. Strange’s apprentice for some time now and you wanted to prove your best friend wrong. It goes awry and both of you find yourselves in a ‘dark mirror’ universe where the Captain, the Asset, the Kraken, and the Fallen Angel want to make both of you theirs.

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Female Reader x Dark!Ransom, minor Dark!Bucky x OFC x Dark!Sam

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Warning: Dub/Non-Con Smut, Oral (m & f receiving), Daddy Kink, MMF Threesome, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Non-Con Drugging, Breeding Kink, and Artistic License w/Biology

A/N: This is my gift to @labella420​ for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @chrissquares​ , and @amythedvdhoarder​’s Happy Hoelentine’s Day Challenge.  Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Shout out to @saiyanprincessswanie​ for letting me borrow an idea of hers for this fic. Thanks to @the-soulofdevil​ for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

Another Valentine’s Day, another day for the world to mock me being single.

You were having enough of a ‘meh’ week as it is. Dr. Strange had to return to Kamar-Taj for an in-person meeting and Wong was who knows where. They had instructed you to work on your portal and transfiguration spells while they were away which was fair since you’ve been lacking in that department.

It’s just that you longed for some excitement.

Luckily you wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s completely alone; Isabeau, your best friend, was coming over due to as she put it, ‘no one cares about a day where all one gets is somewhat good sex’.

Fast Forward two hours and you’re getting your room ready for Galentine’s Day Movie Night. You had decked out your room with homemade baked goods, drinks, best friend movies, all the good shit.

“I have wonderful news!” Isabeau burst in with gusto yet again.

You shot her a bemused smile, “What is it this time?”

“I have a new crush! It’s Eric from IT!”

“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time?” you queried in reference to the time when Isabeau’s crush turned out to be a complete asshole.

“Oh hush! This won’t be like that at all,” Isabeau retorted, “Now how about you? Have you had any luck with a hot sorcerer?”

“If only I’d be so lucky,” you muttered as Isabeau started on the Toffee Crunch Cookies you made.

A few minutes later, Isabeau’s eyes narrowed and her full lips curved upward in a mischievous smirk.

She had one of her ideas again.

“Hey, why don’t you try an ambiance spell. They’re harmless and you always feel better afterward.”

You didn’t like casting them due to something always going awry, but you relented once Isabeau broke out her puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright, I give,” you submitted, “I’ll try a simple floating star spell. Let me find the book.”

 Both of you went to the library for the book but it was nowhere to be found. All of the ambiance and illusion books were blank.

“Is this a sorcerer thing? I’m not seeing any words or illustrations,” puzzled Isabeau as you went through book after book in the library only to find them blank.

“No. Maybe we should just go back to my room,” you suggested as you made your way to the exit.

“Wait! There’s one book left. You could try that one.” Isabeau pointed to the last book on the shelf. It was a little worn like many of the books that resided in the library, but the inscriptions seemed odd; like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet it was the only book that had anything in it.

“Fine,” you relented as you took the book back to your room.

  The spells in the book weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but one spell seemed to stand out to both of you.

“Speculum Mundus?” Isabeau wondered.

“It means Mirror World in Latin.”

“Oh,” her eyes got a mischievous glint to them again, “I bet you can’t cast the spell.”

“Not this again.”

“Oh come on,” Isabeau goaded, “It’s a simple mirror world spell. You’ve done it before. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you gonna chicken out again?”

“No! Just give me a minute,” you mumbled as your hands got into the starting position and recited the incantation.

  The room changed instantly.

It was filled with prism-like structures and kaleidoscope imagery giving the space a surreal ambiance.

It wasn’t unlike the last time you went into the Quantum Realm with Dr. Strange and Wong, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and a chill shot through your spine.

You heard a gasp and turned around to see Isabeau with her protruding eyes opened wide and her mouth gaping. Following her line of sight, you saw four of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

Though something was amiss.

For one thing, there were two Steve Rogers; one with a beard and one clean-shaven. Bucky Barnes’ arm was silver and not dark gray with gold highlights. All of them were in black uniforms with sections of vermillion and/or maroon. Clean-shaven Steve had a black tactical suit with a vermillion Kraken on his chest. Bearded Steve had a skull with tentacles on it. Sam had three vermillion stripes and one maroon stripe across his chest and shoulders with a falcon’s head in red surrounded by a black circle between his pecs.

But the thing that set off all your alarms was the fact that Bucky’s outfit was a dead ringer of his Winter Soldier days.

Instinctively, you grabbed Isabeau’s hand and made a mad dash for the hallway. You needed to get some distance so you could ground yourself.

You tried breaking the spell but to no avail. Not only did the spell not break, but your hands also burned at each attempt.

“We won’t lose you again!” one of the Steves yelled as you and Isabeau turned a corner.

“Come here, mici prințese!” another voice, probably Bucky’s shouted as the two of you made your way into a closet.

“I think we’re okay for now,” you breathed telepathically as the four Adonises crept past your hiding place.

“What’s the plan now?” Isabeau asked fearfully as her heartbeat started to rise in terror.

“I don’t know but-” you were cut off by a strike to the back of your head and your vision rapidly fading to black.

  Muffled voices and the beeping of medical equipment brought you from the void.

“Nothing is wrong….they’re…good, sir.”

“Be sure that they are. We can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Groggily, you open your eyes to find yourself in a sleek hospital room lightly chained to a bed. Several other people were monitoring your vitals. One of them is Dr. Bruce Banner, or what seems to be Dr. Banner.

Bruce turned to see you looking around with a slightly confused expression, “Ah, you’re awake,” he turned to one of his aides, “Contact the Captain and Lieutenant. Tell them to come to get their bride.”

You blinked. Bride?

“Where is Isabeau, my friend?” you inquired as one of the aides brought you some water.

Bruce scowled, “Don’t think about her. You might be able to see her if the Captain and/or Lieutenant wills it.” he remarked while eyeing you up and down in a condescending almost lecherous manner, “Hmm, looks great for breeding,” Bruce noted as he fondled and prodded your curves.

You’ve always been proud of how you looked, but at that moment you wanted to shrink in the corner after giving this Bruce a roundhouse kick to the groin.

You were about to tell Dark!Bruce to fuck off when Tony Stark, fuck it, Dark!Tony entered the room. This Tony looked a lot more sinister with his silver, gray, light, and steel navy blue armor. His face and hair were mostly uncovered with his facial expression positively predatory.

“Cap’s one lucky bastard. He gets a sexy bunny along with Lieutenant Smart Ass.”

Recalling how some megalomaniacs liked shows of submissiveness, you lowered your head and asked where you were.

Whether it be out of pity, spite, or malice, Tony answered your question, “You’re in another earth, another universe.”

You nearly swiveled to look outside the window. NYC’s skyline was radically different. There were fewer buildings and HYDRA insignias everywhere.

“HYDRA took over this world.” You deadpanned. FUUUUCK!

“Sexy and smart.” Tony praised sardonically.

It didn’t take time for HYDRA to regroup after WWII. Zola and his associates were able to convince Howard Stark to give them the Tesseract with the promise of great renown, riches, and no longer being bound by the laws of weaker men. They were able to create a superweapon with the help of Dr. Whitney Frost and have been ruling the planet ever since.

It could be worse. HYDRA knew they had to offer the people comforts in exchange for their obedience. They eradicated all diseases, created a good standard of living, and ended all petty conflicts under the new world order.

Though Tony didn’t feel the need to tell you. You’ll figure it out on your own.

The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and his younger, clean-shaven counterpart in all their masculine glory.

“Good, you’re here.” Bruce welcomed smirking at your silent pleas.

Both soldiers walked over and inspected you.

“Hello, kitten. Name’s Ransom.” The clean-shaven soldier drawled as he moaned from your scent, “Nice set of lips you’ve got there.”

“We’ll definitely have some fun with her,” Steve noted as licked his lips ogling your curves.

You had to use all of your restraint not to spit in their faces.

“We’ll take her.” Ransom decided while Steve nodded.

Several of the aides breathed a sigh of relief as Steve broke the chains on your bed like they were nothing.

“Don’t have too much fun now!” Tony called as Steve picked you up bridal style.

“Who am I kidding? they’ll breed her like a Catholic rabbit!”

  “Um, where are you taking me?” you queried, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You will address us as ‘Sir’ in public unless instructed otherwise. Is that understood?” It took all that Steve had not to push against the wall and pound your pussy with his cock he was so enraged.

No, he needed to wait. No one was to see what’s theirs.

Ransom, for his part, chuckled and shook his head, “Best not to anger this one, kitten. He hasn’t been in the best of moods.”

  You gasped once the doors to their living quarters opened.

The place was huge!

It had a modern yet retro design; it should’ve been confusing, but it worked. Grand windows showcased the skyline with a balcony in the middle with a huge kitchen next to what looked to be a restaurant-style fridge and a huge living room with a TV and a fireplace.

Yet there seemed to be something missing.

“Place needs a woman’s touch,” Ransom commented sending a smirk your way.

“I’ll see you in the guest quarters Ransom” Steve deadpanned as he led you down a hall.

  The bedroom was enormous yet sparse like they didn’t know what to do with it.

You were about to say something when Steve dropped you onto the incredibly soft mattress. His eyes darkened with lust and you knew what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a way out of this, not with the magic inhibitors Bruce placed on your wrists.

Maybe you could give escape one last try; you just had to wait for the right opening.

Steve smirked upon seeing you removing your clothes. He liked that you knew your place, his pretty little princess.

You could only gasp when Steve removed his uniform top. He had an incredibly defined musculature: broad shoulders, beefy biceps, chiseled pecs and abs, and a seriously drool-worthy Adonis Belt. The light shining behind him made his body appear even more glorious.

Steve looked like an ancient god brought to modern times.

With a predatory smirk, Steve slowly crawled to you loving the smell of your arousal. “Let me lay out a few rules, sweetheart. You will make our meals, clean our rooms, bear our children, and be our good little whore. You must earn the right to wear a bra; panties are out of the question.”

Each rule was emphasized by a kiss or a love bite to your jaw, neck, collarbone, and shoulders.

Finally, you are to address us as Sir in public and Daddy in private. Say it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you muttered with your eyes downcast.

Steve lifted your chin up with his forefinger, “That’s a good girl,” and brought you in for a kiss on the lips.

The kiss was demanding yet soft. You were surprised he was capable of such gentleness.

Steve was about to push his tongue into his mouth when Ransom strolled into the room.

“Does she know the drill?”

Steve broke the kiss with a smirk,” Just finished explaining it.”

Ransom shot you a sardonic smirk, “You got the rules, kitten? Good. Now if you misbehave, I’m gonna send you to the dungeons for a few days.”

Steve started up again, “But...if you’re good-”

“A good little wifey,” Ransom interjected caressing your right cheek and leaning in for a kiss.

This kiss started off soft then intensified (really know how to lure a girl) into one filled with passion and dominance. Ransom forced his tongue into and moaned at your taste. A few seconds later he was pushing what felt like a small tablet past your tongue forcing you to swallow.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Cool it, grandpa! I did, don’t you worry. She’s gonna feel it. Aren’t ya, kitten.”

You started to feel strange. Your body temperature skyrocketed, your mind was in a deep haze, your thighs were clenching on overtime you were so turned on. You needed relief and fast.

“Please Daddies!” you begged as you tried your best not to touch yourself.

“See grandpa? She’s ready.” Ransom purred as he grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders. He planted a few kisses near your entrance and groaned at the smell of your arousal.

It only took one long, slow lick to your slit to turn you into a moaning mess. You couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you.

Ransom groaned at the taste of your juices. Not even Stark’s overpriced chefs could compare. “Fuck, she tastes divine,” he groaned and dove in for more. Ransom attacked your folds and swollen clit with insane intensity and precision alternating between his tongue and fingers.

You were on cloud nine. Each motion took you further to the precipice of an orgasm. Ransom kept bringing you back from the edge only thrust you back into his level of tumultuous.

Steve got in on the action by covering your moans with a kiss of all-consuming passion and started playing with your breasts.

“Fuck, these tits are amazing! Can’t wait until these are filled with milk” Steve purred as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and the other between his big and forefingers.

After twenty minutes of teasing, Ransom finally let you come. A volcanic eruption of ecstasy erupted from your core and Ransom lapped up all of your juices.

“Rogers, you’re in for a treat!” Ransom exclaimed as he hopped off the edge of the mattress.

“I get her pussy first since you got to eat her out,” Steve uttered as grinned at your blissed-out state.

With a tsk, both of them got you into position with Steve’s thick, muscular thighs on either side of your hips and Ransom standing in front of you taking off his pants.

He was huge! His cock was long, thick, and veiny. It wobbled against his masterfully sculpted abs with each step he took. You wondered how that was going to fit in your mouth. Turns out Steve’s was no smaller if his tip being coated with your slick is any indication.

“This won’t hurt, kitten. You were made for us.” Ransom cooed.

You didn’t know how right he was.

Steve made his move by pushing into you inch by delicious inch and moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, she fits like a dream.”

“Don’t take forever, grandpa.” Ransom chided.

“Shut up, ya punk!” Steve retorted as he began thrusting into you loving the way your pussy clenched around him like a vice’s grip.

“Open wide, kitten,” Ransom started to push his throbbing cock into your mouth.

It took a bit of time and effort to loosen your jaw enough for him to fully enter you. He started fucking your mouth before you were ready. You tried not to gag he was so rough.

What happened to the man from earlier?

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Ransom breathed as he was approaching his climax.

Steve came with a primal roar that reverberated throughout the room after making you come two more times.

“Swallow it, kitten” Ransom ordered.

Funny thing is, you didn’t need the order. You delighted in the salty, tangy, and slightly sweet flavor.

Two minutes after you swallowed all of Ransom’s spent, both men decided it was time to move. Ransom got onto the mattress and pulled you on top of him with his tip nudging your entrance. Steve got behind you and placed kisses along the juncture between your neck and shoulders while positioning himself at your ass.

“Please...please don’t do this!” you pleaded, the pill’s effect slipping for the tiniest of moments.

Steve grabbed your neck with just enough force to pause, not hurt.” Best be a good girl now, sweetheart,” he warned.

Ransom slid in first, “Holy fucking shit!” he moaned, “Sam owes me $40.

“That depends on how well their bride is taking to them,” Steve pointed out.

“Eh, we’ll say ours is better.”

Ransom moaned again once he bottomed out and grabbed the globes of your blessed backside. He couldn’t wait to grab and smack it around in their quarters.

Steve moved slowly causing both of your breathing to hitch, his from pleasure and yours from slight pain.

With a grin and smirk, they started moving in tandem. Your body almost couldn’t take the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“I could get used to this,” Ransom remarked.

“Well, we have the week,” Steve breathed past your ear.

Both kept at it until they came in you twice. You nearly passed out after your twelfth orgasm.

“Rest kitten,” Ransom purred as you finally gave in to your exhaustion.

  “The bride took to our seed,” Steve reported to Director Pierce.

“Good. We found their parents along with the rest of the resistance.” Pierce imparted.

Steve scowled at the information.

You and your friend, Isabeau, were the only ones to survive the Eve Project. HYDRA wanted to genetically groom compatible brides for their top soldiers. You were promised to Steve and Ransom and your friend to Bucky and Sam. Both of you were whisked away to another Earth by the resistance and your treacherous parents.

Now you were back where you belong.

“When do we leave?” Ransom growled.

“Once Strange and Wanda crack the protection spell. In the meantime, enjoy your bride.” Pierce turned to leave, but stopped before turning off the screen,” I want to see some little ones soon.”

[myriadimagines]

Roadside

Stranger Things One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Robin Buckley

Other Characters: — 

Warnings: alcohol, swearing

Summary: You and Robin are best friends. And best friends are supposed to tell each other everything, right?

Word Count: 1,711

A/N: my submission for @moonlit-imagines‘ writing challenge! also the summary is hella lame but oh well. i wrote a whole angsty ending for this but decided against it and decided to give a happy ending instead. enjoy :)

reblog/feedback/comments are very much appreciated!!!

“Let’s take a walk. Just you and me.” 

You look up at her, uncomfortably shifting your weight from one foot to another. You’re leaned up against the hood of your car, clasping your notebooks to your chest as you meet her gaze. She stares back at you, kicking her shoes up against the dirt, both of you holding your breath. The school is empty by now, everyone already gone, leaving you and Robin alone outside the building. The moment of seriousness feels odd, uncomfortable, tense. You gulp, unable to see even a hint of a teasing smile on Robin’s face, and you suck in a sharp breath.

“Okay,” you finally nod, and Robin chews on her bottom lip. She watches you put your books away, stuffing them into your backpack, and Robin resists the urge to crack a joke about how haphazardly you shove the papers away. It’s how you first met, after all, desks next to one another, her muttering a sarcastic comment under her breath. You snorted with laughter, and it took her by surprise — the fact that someone was paying enough attention to hear her — that she couldn’t help but burst out laughing, too. It wound the both of you in detention, chastised for disrupting the class, but it was worth it for Robin to find her best friend. 

You nervously readjust the straps of your backpack, hitching them higher up on your shoulders, dragging out the seconds to avoid the conversation you know both you and Robin have been dancing around. She tilts her head, and you reluctantly follow her as she begins walking, the both of you trailing by the edge of the road leading to school. It’s strangely quiet, as if the entire world is granting you a moment of privacy, wanting to listen to what you have to say. 

But you know the world is spinning, continuing on as it must. The world doesn’t care about you or Robin. It doesn’t care about two friends taking a walk under a clouded sky, mouths filled with words they want to say, but finding themselves swallowing them, instead.

The road is empty, not even a hum of a distant engine breaking the delicate silence that dances around you and Robin. You pull your denim jacket tighter around your body, feeling the autumn winds getting colder as the sun hides behind the clouds. The browned leaves crunch under you and Robin’s shoes as you continue to walk, going down the stretch of road that seems to have no end, and you awkwardly clear your throat to remark, “This is nice.” 

Robin doesn’t respond, and part of you knows not to expect her to. She’s never been one to beat around the bush, to bullshit with you. You can see her in deep thought, eyes glued to the ground as she presses her lips into a flat line. 

You know it’s coming. The very thought twists your stomach into knots. You’ve been avoiding her all day, ducking into classrooms and rushing down the hallways whenever you so much as caught a glimpse of her, but you can’t escape this any longer. Any minute now, and you don’t even realise you’ve been holding your breath until you’re practically suffocating, any minute now—

“Did you mean it?”

Your heart stops in your chest, and you can’t even bring yourself to look at Robin as she stops in her tracks. You shrink under her gaze, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as the events of  the previous night come flooding back to you. 

Robin didn’t even wanted to go to the stupid party, but you were too excited at being invited to care. You dragged her along, poking fun at the annoyance on her face, both of you drinking together and wrinkling your nose at the taste, struggling to choke it down instead of spitting it out. That was enough for her, tossing the cup to the side and refusing to let any more touch her lips, but you downed cup after cup, too fast for her to stop you.

She guided you to the bathroom when you had one too many, stumbling through the crowd, glaring at your leering classmates who watched with smirks on their faces. Your arms were around her, clinging to her, and you let out a drunken laugh as she finally managed to get the two of you to the bathroom, locking the door behind her for good measure. You collapsed onto the tiled floor, the both of you sitting opposite one another as she leaned up against the sink and you leaned up against the wall, knees bumping into each other as she shook her head at you. 

“If you need to throw up,” Robin warned you. “Make sure you do it in the toilet. Do not throw up on me.”

You snorted, leaning forward as you practically crawled over to her side. You rested your head on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her as you murmured, “God, I feel like I can’t even stand.”

You waited for Robin to say something, to tease you, to chastise you, but to your surprise, she softly responded, “It’s fine. We’ll stay here as long as you need.” 

You looked up at her, trying to ignore how close your face was to hers, how your noses were practically touching. You swore, you could create constellations from the freckles on her face, and your heart skipped a beat as she raised an inquisitive brow at you. All these thoughts were thoughts you’ve desperately tried to ignore, but your drunken brain has no inhibitions, and before you can stop yourself, you suddenly leaned forward, pressing a desperate kiss to her lips.

Robin didn’t stop you at first, and somehow, despite how disgusting the alcohol tasted earlier, on your lips she finds herself tolerating it. But her eyes widened as she realised what was happening, and she quickly pulled away, hands on your shoulders to hold you at a distance. She stared at you, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to come up with something to say, and you looked away, wriggling yourself out of her grasp. 

“Shit, I—” you stammered, shaking your head as you bury your face in your hands. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m so drunk.”

Robin could only stare at you, unsure of what else to do or say. The two of you told each other everything, but this was something she knew she could never speak of. Her feelings for you were something she repressed so hard, some days she could even forget about it, but now all she could think about was the curve of your lips and how you tasted. 

But this isn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to be a drunken kiss you’d forget about by the morning. Hell, she still couldn’t even tell if you liked girls or not, if this was a drunken act you’d later try to laugh about or something more.

The two of you remained silent, and you refused to look up at her, tears stinging your eyes as you worried that you’ve ruined it all. Finally, through your hands, you mumbled, “I need to be alone, Robin.”

She hesitated, not wanting to leave you. “I…”

“Please.” you croaked out, and Robin could hear the sadness in your voice. The kiss aside, she knew she shouldn’t leave you in your drunken state, but she slowly got to her feet, making her way to the door as she waited for you to stop her, to tell her to stay. But you didn’t, you stayed quiet, and Robin let out a sigh as she reluctantly stepped out of the room.

She didn’t know how you managed to get home after that night. She waited in her car for you, almost waited all night, watching each and every person that left the house, but there was no sign of you. At school the next day, she almost didn’t expect you to show up, but she saw you at the end of the hallway, expression solemn and shoulders hunched as you rushed from class to class. Robin didn’t even know if she wanted to confront you for the truth, worrying that she wouldn’t like it, but she knew she had to.

So here the two of you are, standing at the edge of the road, fearful to look at each other. You hate this tension, when the two of you are so used to being at ease with one another, never uncomfortable even in silence. But this silence feels suffocating and heavy, and you absolutely hate it. 

“Just tell me,” Robin pleads, and you gulp. “I just need to know.”

You try to weigh up the situation in your mind, thinking of the pros and cons of lying or telling the truth, but you know emotions are rarely so logical. You look up at her, meeting her imploring gaze, and you quietly respond, “I meant it.”

Robin’s heart stops, and she stares at you, unsure if she heard you correctly. “What?”

“I meant it.” you repeat, raising your voice enough for her to hear. Your hands are shaking, unsure of how to interpret the expression on Robin’s face, and you begin to say, “Robin—”

Robin suddenly leans forward, grabbing your face in her hands, pulling you towards her as she kisses you. This time, you taste like your fruity chapstick, the one that she’s always borrowing from you, imagining that your lips are on hers each time she puts it on. This kiss isn’t desperate, but softer, sweeter, and the both of you are left breathless when you finally pull away. You blink at her in surprise as she stares back at you with wide eyes, her hands still on your face, and you ask, “Did you mean that?”

“Yes,” Robin responds without missing a beat, and you laugh, wrapping your arms around her waist as you pull her in to kiss her again. The world feels right again, as if everything off balance is once again restored, and all that matters is you and Robin. Robin, your best friend that you’re kissing by the roadside, with huge smiles on both your faces.

tag list: @inspiredbynewt​ / @locke-writes​​ / @fangirlsarah16​ / @cnco-babes​ / @doot-doot-danvers​ / @batfam16​ /  @marvelismylifffe​ / @tonystarkshomeoflostkiddos​ / @redbullchick​ / @azeret-mirror​ / @randomfandomimagine​ / @thedarkqueenofavalon​ / @captainshazamerica​ / @thereagles​

[cherrysha]

1.english is not my first language so sorry if something sounds strange. I realized that the requests are open and I would love it if u wrote something with the feitan pls. maybe a headcanon of him dealing with a very affable s / n (?) kkk i can't explain but like he is disturbed because she is accepting very well the fact that she was kidnapped and now she is forced to fall in love with him, and he is like "me I'm a fucking criminal, why are u so calm?"

It doesnt sound strange at all! This went in a completely different direction and its part headcanon but mostly just a short drabble. I’m not one hundred percent happy with this piece, but i wanted to get it out there!

Also, This is a universe in which I deny the fact that he sounds horrible in the dub. We only stan subbed Feitan over here. 

word count: 1572

My requests are open atm

Warnings: TORTURE. thats it. thats all it is. just one big torture scene. 

 So if his s/o didn’t resist...

• He’d prolly just think they were biding their time

• He wouldn’t ask, he’d just straight up assume that they were playing the long con

• And a few months of it and he’d be sick and tired

• They were so agreeable, they let him touch them even when he was covered in blood

• And I don’t see any way this doesn’t end in torture

• He’d be really pissed off abt it

• Probably goading you the whole time

• “It doesn’t have to be like this if you just tell me.”

• And in truth he knows no plan would work, but he just wants some confirmation that you were going to try to escape

-

“Plan for what?” And he sighs. Part of him knew this was going to happen; that you’d still feign innocence. And that same part of him revelled in the course of action he’d decided to take. Basking in the chance to finally cause you pain. It’s a deeply rooted desire, one he isn’t accustomed to controlling. He wasn't one to pass up an opportunity such as this one.

You’ve been tied, arms above your head as the balls of your bare feet support the weight of your full body on the unforgiving concrete floor. The blindfold he had used to lure you into the room with is now converted into a gag as its shoved into your mouth. He’s done listening. Maybe when he’d given you incentive to be more... forthcoming, he’d remove it. The knife glints in the low light, the sight of it seemingly manifesting out of nowhere is startling to say the least. He takes a minute to ponder the situation. The apprehension on your face. You’d never seen him like this, only ever catching glimpses of his profession in the blood soaked clothes you washed so diligently. Was that not enough of a warning? He makes quick work of cutting off your top as well as the bra underneath. He deftly moves behind you, the sound of something heavy being picked up as he opens his mouth to speak. “This is going to hurt.” And it’s the most warning he’s given any of his victims. The suspense they felt, the jagged breaths they took as he circled their body like a hawk; it was part of the excitement for him. The whip cracks against your back one, two, three times before he takes a break. Your mouth opens in a wretched scream, but Feitan has become accustomed to the noise. It’s as irrelevant as the sound of the overhead light buzzing in the background. Blood seeps from the places the whip had licked your skin. Dark red as it lazily rolls down your back and soaks into the top of your cotton shorts. He stands back and admires the way your muscles bunch up under your skin in a useless effort to pull away from the pain, lifting you off of your toes until your feet lazily swung away from the ground. He was starting to enjoy the weak noises that left your throat. You don’t even notice when he forces your shorts and underwear down your legs. There’s a pool of cloth lying at your feet, dainty fabric that had been soaked with blood and cut into ribbons. He hits your thighs and ass with the next five strokes of the whip. Before moving again, he stutters, torn between being forgiving or continuing his endless assault of your soft flesh. The way your head falls limply to your chest, a sheen of sweat coating your body as crimson red rivulets silently descend to the ground below you, as if it’s their duty to entice him. To push him over the edge with need until he couldn’t take it anymore. It makes him give in, seven more and then he drops the instrument in an attempt to contain himself. He takes a moment to look at his work. Lover’s blood, he’s sure that he’s read something about the beauty of it. But seeing it for himself, hearing your shallow breaths as you succumb to the pain and your body slackens against its bindings, is more beautiful than he’d imagined. - He wakes you with even more pain. A faint trickle of something searingly hot burns down the fresh wounds that mar the opened flesh of your back. The scream you let out is the loudest yet, and he takes pride in the fact that he was able to wrench such a sound from you. A noise that no one else had heard and it was all because of him. “It’s just a disinfectant.” In all actuality he knows the level of pain you’re experiencing is probably on par with receiving the injuries, but he can’t stop himself from teasing. He finishes with a sigh and walks around to your front, smiling slightly as he sees your face. You looked wrecked, completely sinful as ribbons of pink tinged liquid dribble down your legs. It’s an encouraging thing. Feitan was the only one to see you this way, would only ever be the one to see your face streaked with tears and sweat, eyelids drooped and breath heavy from the excruciating pain he’d given to you. It makes his own breathing heavier. The spit slicked gag is ripped away and you don’t budge, head still slack against your chest as you stare dazedly at the floor. “Were you hoping to gain my trust so you could try to escape?” He whispers. And you almost don’t hear it over the sound of your own breath. You stutter out a feeble ‘yes’, because you know it’s what he wants, but it doesn’t seem to placate the man. He’s done this long enough to know when someone is lying to him. He’d previously came to the conclusion that you were just good at telling him what he wanted to hear, the paranoia settling over his mind like a heavy blanket as months stretched on and you’d remained unwavering in your acceptance. He can see it now, the truth of the matter enclosed in your feeble attempts of stopping the torture. He takes a step forward and smiles at the slight hitch in your breath at his sheer proximity. You were finally giving him a reaction he was accustomed to, one that he knew all too well. “See, I’m not so skilled at keeping people.. alive” he twists the blade in his hand, eyes shying away from your own as if he’d just revealed a weakness to you. He’s deep in thought, mulling over what exactly to do so as not to harm you too bad. You had told him the truth, after all. “This.. this is where I’d sever your leg from your body.” The knife is red hot as he pierces it through your skin, successfully drawing the image onto you. “At the joint.” After doing the same to the right, he digs it into your lower stomach, “if I had cut here, your entrails would cause such a mess.” Groans leave your throat in your attempt to breathe through the pain, rolling your head back to avoid looking at him. Its hard to contain the excitement he feels just from looking at your debauched state. You were enticing to him, enough so that he had gone out of his way to pluck you from your miserable life and let you start fresh with him. But right now, all he could really think about is how alluring your body was. Bloody and raw, so vulnerable in every sense of the word. He closes his eyes and lets out a puff of air through his nose in an attempt to contain himself. After he has, he continues his earlier ministrations. “The arms would be next, as you’d imagine,” And the lithe blade penetrates the meat of your shoulder as he continues with a downward stroke. It’s debilitating at this point. In a desperate attempt to block it all out, your eyelids involuntarily dance closed. Your body felt utterly destroyed, but your mind was in even worse shape; Choosing to forego the pain, black dots clouded your vision as you felt yourself being quickly tugged under and into unconsciousness. It’s a gentle slap, in his opinion, a warning to keep you alert. He didn’t want you to block this out. Not yet. He’s talking more than usual, a pent up frustration at the fact that he didn’t get what he was looking for. That he was denied the satisfaction of making you admit your wrongdoing. So, he snatches it from the crunching noise of your body hitting the floor. “If I did that, you’d die. Do you think I want that?” You only have enough strength to nod ‘no’, and your answer gains you a swift kick to your gut. He knew you were lying. “I’m not going to kill you.” He lets out something akin to a shaky laugh, the revealing sort that lets you glean just how unhinged the man truly was. He only meant to punish you, to force the truth from your mouth. But once he had a taste of the way you shrieked at his touch, how sweat made your naked body glow in the dim light, he knew this would be the first of many punishments to come.

[jb2856]

How you Love Me - Chapter 2

TW/tags: 18+, graphic r*pe/ Non-Con scene!!!please be cautious.

Hey guys, hopefully you liked the first part! As of right now I don’t have a posting schedule. And I promise this is as dark at the fic will get.

Give me feedback if you like, it will help me out! This one could also potentially be pretty tough to read, So please tread lightly, if the warnings are at all concerning/triggering please do not read!!

Part 1 part 2 Part 3 Part 4(end)

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Below is the very graphic non-con/r*pe scene. If you believe it could be potentially triggering in anyway please do not read ! — the end of the scene is marked in red, if you choose to continue. The whole fic will not be like this. This is the only chapter That will go into this much detail about it.

—————————

The night was dark, eerily quiet.

The crisp autumn wind blew through your hair, slightly calming your nerves. You breathed in deeply, sighing it out.

Making your way through campus, you had been walking back to your apartment, anxious to get home. You had to take a late class this semester, only needing a few more credits for your degree, the only down side being that you had to walk home in the dark, alone.

Under your boots, the fallen leaves crunch and break from your weight. Feeling uneasy you had sped up your pace, your head had been down your eyes watching your boots smash the leaves as they went, you never saw it coming.

Something harshly grabbed your arm, pulling you back making you stumble. Your heart started racing, you couldn’t think, you didn’t even have the time to react before a mans voice was hissing at you, “don’t make a fucking sound, or I’ll kill you.” You felt the cool metal of a gun on your temple, you began to shake, terrified of what would happen. You were stronger than that you thought, you’d began to struggle against him. He slapped you hard and shoved you forward, pulling you into an alley hidden from view. No one would save you.

You’d been able to scream out, on the hope that someone would of heard you. The man had grunted and roughly pulled your head back by your hair, he grabbed your throat firmly, squeezing, making it hard for you to breathe. After a minute, he’d ripped his hand off your throat, then slammed your head against the brick wall. You’d stopped, gasping in pain, scared to say another word.

Your cheek had scorched against the brick, the soft flesh of your face torn from the force. He held one hand on the back of your neck to reach down with his other to roughly force your jeans down, gun in hand, he’d ripped your panties away to make access for himself.

“Stop please,” you’d cried out, hyperventilating and noticeably shaking, tears had streamed tracks down your now dirty and bloodied face.

“Shut up!” He had hissed once again, shoving you against the wall again forcefully, your forehead had met the wall in a clash of pain.

“Please!” You had been desperate, hoping he’d change his mind and leave you.

Of course, he hadn’t.

“I said shut up!!” He’d yelled, forcibly slamming your head against the sharp brick wall once more, splitting it open with the force. This blow had made your head spin, the blinding pain stopping your fight against him, making it even harder for you think straight.

You’d given up. You were dizzy, all you’d felt was pain.

“Fuck.” He had sighed in pleasure as he forcibly entered you. “you’re a tight little thing.” You sobbed out in protest of his actions, his words making you sick. You’d thought you might have passed out, the blinding pain becoming too much. Eventually he stilled though, finished it had seemed. The man had pulled away from you, letting your weak and used body collapse to the ground without a care. He bent down over you and had padded your pockets down, looking for anything to steal, once satisfied with his findings he’d uttered one last word, “Disgusting.” He’d grunted and spit down on your now bare lower half, he’d shoved his gun into the back of his dark jeans before retreating. He ran away you thought, though you’d passed out before you had seen him go, having felt nothing anymore, nothing but pain in that moment.

————————

End scene/flashback

————————

Your eyes shoot open, cheat heaving, your throat sore, You had been screaming.

Your mother, downstairs, having been watching television with Maria, heard your screams. She jumps up and races to your room in a flurry.

Your door flys open in a flash, your mother rushing to your side, her hands going straight to work, to comfort you. One hand going to your forehead brushing your sweaty hair aside and one hand landing on your own thats gripping the sheets tightly in fear.

You scream and struggle again, trying to get away, not really being fully aware of where you were just yet. Your brain is malfunctioning, not catching up to its current environment.

“Baby, it’s me! It’s me! It was just a dream, you’re home, you’re safe!” You mothers terrified voice rings out, making your struggle end.

“Momma!” You sob out, like a 3 year old who’s afraid of the dark. You’re choking on your words, wrapping yourself around her, fingers clutching her sweater tightly. You haven’t had this bad of a nightmare since the beginning of all of this, months ago.

She holds you for quite awhile, you’re trembling in her arms. Your mother wants to cry with you, how could her baby girl be going through so much pain? She just wanted to help but there wasn’t anything else she could do.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper, voice wet with emotion. “I just want it to stop.”

“I know baby, I know.” She responds, running her fingers through your hair repeatedly, trying to comfort you to fall back asleep.

Your mother allows herself to cry now, you’ve fallen asleep, head resting in her lap. She wills herself to stay strong, not wanting to jolt you back awake. She slowly removes herself from your now limp body and pulls the covers higher over you, then retreats out of your room, keeping your door cracked.

——————

Downstairs, Maria is still sitting on the couch, not wanting to interfere. Laura walks over and shakily takes her place on the couch next to her, “is she alright?” Maria asks, concerned.

“She’ll be fine, I think.” Laura sighs, “that was one of the worst nightmares she’s ever had.” Maria nods, understanding.

“Come here.” She said holding her arms out, inviting Laura for a hug, Laura sniffs and embraces her back. They’ve been best friends ever since you and Frankie met, bonding over the loss of their husbands, and the friendship their children had found. They’d seen you two grow separately and then together, they recognized the love you two shared.

“I have to go back to work next week,” Laura exclaims, finally allowing herself to break. “I don’t want to leave her alone, I can’t”

“I will come sit and make her meals while you work, I’d love to.” Maria explains, “It would be give me purpose, something greater than sitting around at home worrying about my mijo.”

“Yes,” Laura nods. “Yes, I’d really appreciate it Maria, thank you.”

“Of course mi amiga.”

———————

It’s a sunny Monday morning, Laura’s first day back to work. She’s about to walk out the door, meeting Maria on the steps. “I tried to bring her breakfast, she wouldn’t eat.”

“It’s ok mi amiga, she’ll be in good hands today.” Maria insists, “I try my best.”

Laura hesitates a second, not wanting to leave, Maria just shooing her out. “Ok alright, I’m leaving. Don’t hesitate to call if anything happens, or if you need anything at all.”

Maria nods, “Si si si, go on.”

———————

It’s around 12pm when Maria make sher first attempt, she’s made you something easy to eat. A bowl of fruit, something healthy, but sweet enough for you to enjoy.

Maria makes her way up the steps and down the hall to your room, she knocks and waits a beat. With no answer she opens the door, glancing at you in bed. “Mija?” She says softly.

You’re not answering, she tries again, more pronounced this time. “Mija, I’ve made you a fruit bowl. Something easy to eat. Please take a bite of something. I’ll be up in a bit to collect.”

You hear the door close and open your eyes, turning to look at the effort Maria has put in. Maybe you should. Just a little, not enough to make you nauseous again.

You eat maybe 5 pieces of fruit and feel full, not wanting to eat anything else you turn again and close your eyes.

30 minutes later, she returns, smiling when she sees you’ve eaten some. “Good job Mija.”

Some time later she comes back to just check on you, maybe she’ll try to get you to talk. She walks in and immediately crosses your room to open your blinds, “you need sunlight, it’s good for you.” She states, stubbornly.

You squint your eyes, shielding them from the harsh light protruding from the glass panes. You’re annoyed now, but you don’t say anything. You just turn your head into your pillow to hide from the light, from her.

“I remember when I first found you and my Francisco.” Maria chimes in, chuckling and breaking the silence. You sigh behind your pillow. “I walked in on you guys, together, in his bedroom. I was ready to beat him”

You just stay in your position, not daring to give her a thing. She continues, “so embarrassed he was, his chubby cheeks all red. I scolded him, made you guys keep the door open after that.” You frown, you remember that like it was yesterday. You’d been 17, you’d hadn’t confessed to each other yet. You’d just been messing around with each other, not really knowing what you were doing. He’d had you on your back, your first real make out. He’d been trailing his hand up your shirt when his mother had barged in. You miss the time when your life hadn’t felt so hard.

“I’d accepted you quickly Mija, you’d become mine as much as he is mine. Family.” She sighs loudly, breaking the spell, slapping her hands against her knees and standing up, “te amo.” You can feel your eyes watering, you didn’t deserve this woman. You’re feeling the regret, why have you been treating everyone so horribly. Your mother, you need to get better for her, for Frankie.

“I’m making supper, I expect you down at the table in 30 minutes.” Maria states behind her as she shuts your door.

You could do one meal….right?

———————

Next chapter

[artificialqueens]

Mateo's Eight, chapter seven (Branjie)--athena2

Previously: Brooke confessed about her daughter to Vanessa and they kissed Now: THE HEIST (dun dun dun)

A/N: Thank you all so much for your amazing feedback on this fic! I never expected people to actually like it this much. This chapter was tricky, so thank you as always to Writ for being an amazing beta!

Please leave some feedback on this chapter if you’d like!

Read on AO3

The food truck Nina wrangled from somewhere rumbles over potholes toward the Met. Everyone exchanges nervous glances, the silent anticipation in the air almost overpowering Nina singing along to the Tangled soundtrack.

Vanessa holds the necklace Brooke got her in a white-knuckled fist, contemplating what it means if she wears it. Her mind reviews the points of the plan but also tries to grasp what Brooke told her last night, the horrible things she’s been through. Can she really blame Brooke for what she did, when she was just protecting her daughter? Can she forgive a lie that went on the whole time they were together?

Vanessa looks at Brooke, eyes focused on her lap. She thinks of Brooke’s tears soaking her shirt last night, the absolutely gutted look in her eyes as she told Vanessa about her daughter, like someone had ripped her heart clean out.

Vanessa needs time to think, when she’s not about to pull off the biggest con of her life. When she doesn’t have to worry about her mom working herself into the ground, or the overdue notice on their bills. She forces her feelings aside until then, which has always been hard for her. Her feelings are constantly getting in the way, anger taking control the night she fought with Brooke, passion winning last night, pulling her into bed with Brooke when she shouldn’t have. She can’t let anything interfere with her focus tonight.

Her stomach flutters as she trails behind Scarlet and Plastique into the ball, the gown Nina got her as soft as butter against her skin, the gold making her glow. She struts inside, casual and unconcerned. This is the most expensive thing she’s ever worn, and she’s going to enjoy it.

Nina is on the floor with the Vogue team, attending to everyone’s needs. Yvie is holed up in the truck outside, watching everything through her hacked security feed. Silky’s in waitress garb, gliding between tables. Brooke and A’keria are in the kitchen, and Vanessa finds that she trusts Brooke completely with her tasks, the weight of fear lifted from her.

Silverware sparkles on each table, the glare off thousand-dollar gowns blinding. It’s not until now that the glitz and glamour really sink in. Vanessa will have millions after this, millions, and most of the guests would consider it pocket change, like the stray dollar you find in your coat.

Any second now…

“People are sitting,” Nina says through their ear comms, a hint of panic emerging.

“Let’s do it,” Vanessa says.

She hovers by the bar, across from the bathroom Plastique will be running to later. She keeps her head down, fading into the background, wanting to be ignored for once.

“Dishes went out for Plastique’s table,” Brooke says into her comm. If Brooke did her job right, Plastique will be hunched over the toilet about 15 minutes after eating her soup made of overpriced vegetables. Inducing vomiting is the least sketchy thing they’ll do tonight, but Vanessa can’t help but feel a little guilty about it. Still, it’s the only way, and it’s not like they’re really making Plastique sick.

“Right on time.” Vanessa can’t stop the smile that creeps into her voice, hit with happiness that Brooke is with her.

“Are you wearing a watch like I told you?” Brooke asks. “I could’ve synchronized them—“

“You’re not putting sequins on shit. I’m looking at my phone, Brooke,” Vanessa says.

Yvie makes gagging sounds around a mouthful of whatever she’s crunching on. “Do I really have to experience this conversation with my own two ears?” she asks.

“Tell me about it,” Silky gripes. “This ear comm is a group chat from hell. ‘Cept I can’t even leave the chat.”

“How do you think Scarlet feels? She’s stuck at that table with boring-ass rich people and can’t even talk to us,” A’keria says.

“I wish I didn’t have to talk to us,” Brooke says.

“Back to work!” Vanessa snaps.

Waiters hurry past her from the kitchen, balancing gleaming silver trays with dishes of salad resembling burnt tree leaves, still-bleeding steak she can eat in two bites, and bowls of murky green stuff that might have been scooped out of a pond. Give her a slice of pizza any day.

Silky slips into the bathroom to prepare for Plastique, armed with the magnet Yvie made to take the necklace off. Vanessa knows they’re close, heart pounding in her chest, time moving through quicksand. She sips her drink without tasting and almost spits it out when Scarlet’s voice rings over the ear comm.

“Plastique’s on the move. Bitch is looking real green. And I deserve a higher cut after what I’ve been forced to listen to.”

“I’ll give you a dollar,” Vanessa promises, positioning herself in front of the bathroom, up against the cream-colored wall within the camera blindspot.

“You can’t even buy a candy bar with a dollar,” Scarlet says.

“You can buy my love,” Yvie says. “But you already have that, Scar.”

“How much to buy your damn silence?” Vanessa asks.

Yvie’s reply goes unheard as Plastique sprints around the corner, the pale green tinge to her face clashing against the bright pink dress that ripples with her movements. The door slams shut, and a man in a black suit stumbles after her. Vanessa has to marvel that an entire bodyguard is required to watch one necklace.

“Can’t you read?” Vanessa demands, pointing at the curvy gold script on the door. “It’s the women’s bathroom.” She crosses her arms and the guard sulks off to the side.

“How’d I get stuck on barf duty?” Silky laments over faint sounds of retching. “This ain’t even fair.”

“She’s puking, though?” Vanessa asks.

“Oh, hell yeah, she is.”

“Then get in there and take the necklace, dummy!”

Vanessa’s palms sweat, breath stuck in her throat. She hears the toilet flushing inside, and mumbles too indistinct to make out.

“Waiter’s coming your way,” Nina says.

Sure enough, a waiter rounds the corner, and Vanessa cuts him off, nudges him toward the bathroom door just as Silky comes out, slipping the necklace between dishes stained with a thick orange substance Vanessa can’t blame anyone for not finishing.

“Necklace is on the move,” Vanessa says, watching the tray head into the kitchen.

It’s in Brooke’s hands now, and there’s nowhere Vanessa would rather have it.

—

Brooke gasps as she snatches the necklace and 112 million dollars hits her hand. It weighs seven pounds, Vanessa had said. Heavier than Zoey when she was born almost two months premature. A thousand times more expensive than the medical procedures needed to keep her little heart beating.

This one necklace is worth more money than most people will ever see. This necklace could solve all her problems and then some, for her and so many others. What’s the harm, really, in giving everyone in the group a better life–for A’keria to have her own home and Vanessa to help her mom and Brooke to get her daughter back–at the cost of one little necklace, growing lighter as the seconds pass? They aren’t hurting anyone. The only people who will even notice is the company that owns it, who owns hundreds more jewels just as expensive.

She slides it into the soapy water where A’keria washes dishes, watching A’keria pluck it out and excuse herself to the bathroom, where her tools await.

—

A’keria has to admire the intricacy of the diamond, the sheer quality of the jewel, as she splits the pieces apart. It’s criminal, really, to break something so exquisite, so well-made, but she knows what they’re getting is worth far more.

Police sirens blare outside, the loudspeaker announcing that all employees must report to the main entrance while police search for the missing necklace. A sly grin spreads across A’keria’s face, because they won’t find anything. All she has to do is get the pieces to Silky, who will get them to Vanessa, who will sell them and get their profits.

She carefully breaks off another piece and waits for Nina to find the replica necklace and call the police off.

—

Nina hovers near the fountain, a hand awkwardly pressed against her hip, the replica necklace bulging underneath her dress. Vanessa and Brooke haven’t been answering on the comms, something Nina suspects isn’t a coincidence. She wonders if the two of them are kissing in some gallery room and hopes they’ve made things right.

Police officers scurry around, one of them interrogating Plastique and Scarlet about what could have happened to the necklace.

“Should I do it now?” Nina asks nervously. “Vanessa?”

“Do it!” Vanessa commands.

Nina lifts the hem of her soft orange dress and lowers the necklace into the fountain. She pulls it out with a triumphant cry, running to the police to show them that she found it, and they can end the search.

—

The buzz of the Nokia gets Vanessa ready. She stands up straight, dripping confidence, to pose as the fake buyer with Brooke as the fake artist. Vanessa excels as the buyer because she could attract the attention of others, and the con relies on people not only thinking the art is Brooke’s, but also worth what she’s asking.

Brooke always says rich people will pay a lot for art without knowing anything about it, and so far, she’s right.

“Excuse me, I’d like to buy those pieces.” Vanessa walks up to her, just as they’ve done four times now, making sure to avoid any familiarity. She can’t give anything away, not when this is the biggest con they’ve done.

“I’m asking a very high price,” Brooke says.

“As you should.” Vanessa raises her voice a little, two men across the gallery creeping closer to hear. “I’ll offer you $10,000 for all three.”

Brooke scoffs. “At least 20 grand each. No less.”

She and Brooke continue to haggle, Vanessa luring the men closer and closer, hanging on their every word. Finally, Vanessa backs out of the sale just short of the 60 grand, and one of the men pounces, saying he’ll happily pay Brooke’s price.

Vanessa peeks at Brooke while the man pulls out his checkbook. She has her head down but Vanessa can see the smile stretched across her face, and a rush of affection hits her at once. She loves Brooke, loves her so much, and maybe it’s time to start saving money for a house one day, a house completely their own.

She’s so distracted by Brooke’s shining eyes that she doesn’t notice the man watching them from the corner. She’s so busy dreaming of walking through their new house that she doesn’t notice the man pulling out his phone. She doesn’t notice anything until two police officers are in the gallery, pointing right at them.

But by then, it’s too late.

—

Secret mission with Brooke complete, Vanessa heads back onto the main floor, where the celebrities grumble as they return to their seats, the fake necklace safely around Plastique’s neck.

Silky casually slaps the diamonds into her palm. Vanessa stashes it inside the special compartment she sewed in the dress, and the diamonds lightly brushing against her hip with each movement only increases her pride, making her all the more aware of what she just pulled off. The con of her lifetime, of any lifetime, 112 million dollars gone and no one the wiser.

There’s a tap on her shoulder.

“May I have this dance?”

Vanessa spins around to see Brooke with her arm outstretched. She’s changed into the outfit Nina got her–a silky black sequined suit, each sequin catching the light and reflecting it at Vanessa, stealing her breath in the process. Vanessa knows it’s been a long time since either of them have been in clothes this nice or this new, and she feels like a new woman as she accepts Brooke’s arm.

“You know slow dancing ain’t my thing,” Vanessa warns as Brooke leads her to the dance floor.

“But it’s mine.”

They don’t talk as they glide around the floor, Brooke’s hand on Vanessa’s waist, which is just as well because Vanessa doesn’t have any words. She can feel Brooke’s heart thrumming against her fingers, her green eyes gazing at Vanessa dreamily. She’s never had a proper slow-dance with Brooke, and she’s going to savor each spin, each careful turn that Brooke guides her through.

“You’re wearing the necklace,” Brooke says, her cheeks flushing at the gold heart dangling around Vanessa’s neck.

“Figured we needed all the luck we could get,” Vanessa says. She tightens her hold on Brooke’s hips, not caring what it means, not caring how good the dance and the necklace make her feel. All she cares about is being here with Brooke.

“This is…nice,” Vanessa finishes lamely, because she can’t describe it. It’s a kind of weightless joy she hasn’t felt since before prison, and she doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that the feeling has been brought on by Brooke.

“It is,” Brooke agrees.

They keep moving even as others sit down, and all Vanessa knows is that she could do this dance forever.

—

“Ness,” Brooke hisses, eyes darting toward the cops.

Vanessa’s blood runs cold. Someone called the police. Someone who had seen them before, maybe, or thought they were suspicious? It doesn’t matter. They have to get out of here.

Brooke snatches the check and Vanessa runs down the hall, where Brooke mapped an escape route in her plans, just in case. Vanessa has never been more grateful for Brooke and her planning.

Brooke is behind her as she sprints to the shipping entrance by the bathrooms, slamming down on the metal bar and shoving it open. But it catches on something with a clinking sound that stops her heart. The door only opens a crack, just big enough for a child to wriggle through.

Vanessa sees a chain holding it closed at the top. The gallery staff must not use this entrance anymore. Her heart pounds, because they’ll never get that chain off. Vanessa might be able to squeeze through, but Brooke will never fit.

She can hear cops shouting in the distance, Brooke cursing under her breath. Tears of helplessness spring to Vanessa’s eyes. She can see Brooke’s mind frantically working, trying to think of another way out.

“You have to go, Ness,” Brooke says firmly. “You can fit.”

“I’m not leaving you for the cops!”

“We don’t have a choice.” Brooke hands her the check. “Take it. Go lie low at A’keria’s. I’ll come get you. Go!” She nudges Vanessa toward the door.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll find another way out.” Brooke crouches down and begins moving Vanessa’s limbs, helping her contort through the narrow opening even as Vanessa continues to protest. She kisses Vanessa fast and hard, and the intensity she pours into it makes Vanessa tremble in fear that it’ll be their last kiss.

“But–”

“I’ll protect you, I promise. Always.” Brooke pushes her through, and Vanessa runs.

—

Seven women exit down the grand steps at the Met, hearts light and fluttery with dreams of the future.

Nina dreams of adopting a third child with her wife, Monet; another kid to run around the house, laughing and shouting, to fill her heart beyond bursting. She dreams of writing comedy shows again, performing in front of a crowd and letting their applause etch a permanent grin on her face, a career she gave up a decade ago. She dreams of second chances.

Scarlet dreams of a space where the designs she drew as a little girl in her princess bedroom can come to life, for everyone to see the beauty that’s only ever been in her head. She dreams of seeing her clothes not only on famous people, but on regular people, well-made and priced so anyone can wear clothes they feel good in. She dreams of sketching in a cozy house with Yvie at her side.

Yvie dreams of setting up an internet cafe with its own computers for everyone and free coffees and baked goods. She dreams of returning to school to get a master’s with no worries about loans, having more time to do her hacking, to expose criminals. She dreams of typing away on a big couch with her long legs thrown across Scarlet’s lap.

Silky dreams of walking into the principal’s office and paying off the lunch debts for the whole school so no child has to go hungry. She dreams of the new supplies she can buy for her classroom, the crafts kids can make with the markers and paints and colored pencils, the colors and laughs that will fill the room. She dreams of a giant house where she can soak in a tub and eat chocolate while she grades papers.

A’keria dreams of focusing on herself, to have a home where her mother didn’t track her every move and her father didn’t tell her to get a better job. She dreams of brushing the dust off her old business cards and designs, of a little boutique where she can create her own bracelets instead of polishing someone else’s. She dreams of people giving her designs as gifts to those they loved.

Brooke dreams of breaking all possible ties to her ex, the bills he caused disappearing. She dreams of walking into a new house with her daughter secure in her arms, to fill the kitchen with laughs as they bake cookies, to see her smile every day. She dreams of time home with her daughter, time to learn to love herself again, and maybe, if she’s lucky, time with Vanessa.

Vanessa dreams of those bills vanishing into thin air, of moving her mom into a nice house and having time to relax without all-day shifts. She dreams of finding a new place for herself and Riley, to rediscover herself and what she wants to do. She dreams of endless possible futures she can live, and if a certain blonde woman creeps into a few of them, the dream only becomes that much brighter.

And when Vanessa asks Brooke to stay over at her house tonight, she feels she’s one step closer to that dream.

—

“I can’t believe we did that,” Brooke slurs as she pulls off her suit. “You’re brilliant, Ness. Super brilliant. Like, your brain must be so, so big.”

Vanessa suspects some of the praise is fueled by the amount of wine Brooke had at the ball, but Vanessa accepts it anyway. Besides, she’s still high on champagne and the success of the mission, and Brooke’s cheeks are flushed as she giddily puts on the pajamas they stopped by her place to get (‘It’ll be like a sleepover, Ness!’), and Vanessa has to smile.

Brooke is struggling with her shoes, her normally nimble, graceful fingers fumbling at the straps, and Vanessa carefully unfastens them for her, lifting Brooke’s legs and pulling the shoes off, then helping her step into plaid pajama pants.

“Still got them toes, I see,” Vanessa teases.

“Of course I do. Where would they go?” Brooke asks in confusion, and Vanessa stifles a laugh. She’s always loved the soft Brooke that needed Vanessa to take care of her. Brooke was so used to taking care of herself, taking care of them both, that it was nice to return the favor, make Brooke feel as cared for and as loved as she made Vanessa feel.

“Okay, time for bed,” Vanessa commands, herding Brooke under the covers. She’s put Brooke to bed two nights in a row, and it’s hard not to enjoy it, especially when Brooke smiles as Vanessa pulls the blanket up, melting into the soft fleece. “It’s 2am. You need to sleep.”

“‘M not tired,” Brooke whines with a pout, eyelids fluttering in her effort to stay awake, like she’s afraid Vanessa will disappear if she can’t see her.

“Sure you are, baby.” The baby slips out before her champagne-addled brain can stop it, and Brooke’s smile makes her even warmer than the liquor.

“Okay,” Brooke agrees. She squints at Vanessa. “Is that my sweatshirt?”

Oops.

So what if Vanessa just happened to grab it tonight? It was on the top of her clothes pile, the room a little too hazy to dig through her dresser for proper pajamas. So what if the soft cotton feels nicer than the thousand-dollar dress she had on earlier? It doesn’t mean anything.

“Maybe.” Vanessa gives a coy shrug.

“I’ve been looking for that!” Brooke gets that cute pout again, and Vanessa has to resist the urge to kiss it away.

“You know it looks better on me.”

Brooke nods, the motion quickly turning to a yawn.

“Sleep, Brooke.” She can avoid Brooke’s lips but not her cheek, pressing a light kiss to the still-rosy skin.

Brooke is asleep in seconds, her even breaths almost lulling Vanessa to sleep as she stands. She’s about to join Brooke under the blankets when the door opens, her mother home after another late shift. The moment seizes her, and Vanessa needs to ask her something, now.

“What are you still doing up?” her mom asks, dropping down at the kitchen table with leftover pizza.

“Um, can I ask you something?” Vanessa asks, biting her lip.

“You can ask me anything, honey. What is it?”

“Okay, let’s pretend you and Dad stole something together and I was really young. And you could tell the cops you did it all and let Dad go free, but you’d never see me again, or you could put Dad in prison so you could be with me. What would you do?”

The intense look in Vanessa’s eyes must be enough to stop her mother from wondering why she’s asking such a strange question at 2 in the morning.

“I would choose you. I love your father, and I wouldn’t want to send him away. But you’re my baby, Vanessa. Even when you’re grown, you’re still my baby. I’d do anything to protect you.”

He took her. He took my baby. Brooke’s teary voice rings through her head.

Vanessa kisses her mom and numbly returns to her room. Brooke is curled up on her side, knees bent—her knees always got in the way, Vanessa thinks fondly—with her arms drawn against her chest, looking like they’re burning with emptiness, aching for someone to hold.

Vanessa watches Brooke sleep, her mind spinning. Brooke didn’t want to hurt Vanessa; she just wanted to protect her daughter. Her baby. Yes, she lied for nine months, but Vanessa can’t blame her. Brooke had just been hurt too many times to take the risk that Vanessa would hurt her too, toss her aside like a broken doll as her parents and ex-husband had done.

Vanessa has always been empathetic, crying over movies since she was a child because she felt it all so deeply. The emotions of others easily rubbed off on her, and she absorbed them like a sponge. She’d come home from the makeup store jittery with the nervous excitement of a teenager off to prom, the hopefulness of someone treating themselves to a makeover after a breakup. But Vanessa can’t even begin to understand how terrifying and lonely things must have been for Brooke.

A husband who used her to make himself look good. Who took away the baby Brooke had been so desperate for, just for money and revenge. To have her daughter there one day and gone the next, leaving Brooke completely alone, too scared to tell anyone as the secret ate her up inside. To have the police use her daughter against her. Constantly getting hurt, over and over, so that keeping the secret was the best way to protect herself.

Aside from her secret, Vanessa never had reason to doubt Brooke’s love for her. Brooke was always open and honest with Vanessa, even when it was hard for her. Brooke sighs in her sleep and Vanessa thinks of the nights they spent together, laughing at episodes of Parks and Rec they’d seen five times. How she could roll over in the night and Brooke would be there, her presence soothing. How she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Brooke’s snorting laugh, the little hairs that escaped her ponytail and sprung around her face, how she’d give Vanessa her jacket when Vanessa forgot her own.

She hasn’t stopped loving Brooke, no matter how mad she was, how hard she tried to pretend.

Vanessa slips beside her—there’s not really room for them both but she doesn’t care, misses sleeping with Brooke too much. She nestles herself against Brooke’s chest, Brooke’s arms wrapping around her, holding her tight, weighing Vanessa down with safety and adoration.

“I love you,” Brooke mumbles into her neck, and Vanessa stills.

There’s a lot of things that could have caused it. It could be the wine, or the high of success, or the fact that Brooke is still half-asleep.

The same could be said of Vanessa, but when she returns the I love you, she means every word.

[som3thingcr3ative]

Voluspa (Prophecy) 3

Okay so I couldn’t resist!

Looking over the past chapters for this I realized that they were super short. I am not the type of person who has patience for all of those tiny chapters, so here’s a bunch!!

Ivar the boneless x reader

Chapter three/?

Synopsis: After running from her home, Astrid finds herself in a peculiar situation with some less-than-friendly people. She reminisces on her life and her companions and we get a glimpse of her through another’s eyes.

Warnings: Slow burn, mention of self-loathing, Ivar, Language, probably will be NSFW, weapons, blood. You know, Vikings.

PART 1 2 3 4 5 6

After a day’s ride at a steady tolt, I give Hvardr the cue to slow. With the sun just kissing the horizon, I scout for a place to spend the night. 

Bears have long since gone into hibernation, so finding an empty den was like finding a needle in a haystack- without anything to light the hay on fire. Somehow, though, I do find one, and the three of us settle in for the night. 

Hvardr stands in the back of the cave, head drooped, asleep. I’d taken off the harness and unwrapped a reindeer pelt, curling up on it with my coat wrapped around me for warmth, facing the small fire I’d built. It will burn all night, thanks to the logs I’d gathered, self feeding. When the bottom log burns out, another will fall into its place. 

Einar returns half an hour later with a snow rabbit in his jaws. He sets it at my feet and I take the pelt off, handing the rest to him. I watch the fire light flicker against the scars on his legs, scars he’d gotten as a pup, caught in an illegal trap. His mother was nowhere to be found, so I’d taken him in. That was two years ago. Now full grown and rather large for his species, Einar was a breathtakingly gorgeous animal. His fur was as grey as the mist in the valley, his muzzle and paws as dark as a moonless night. I treated him with all of the patience and love a wild animal deserved; I never forced him into anything and our relationship was based on trust. 

After all, I’d seen the way captive wolves had turned on their supposed masters. Those people had been fools, trying to tame a wolf like a dog. No, I was not them. 

When Einar had fully healed, I’d released him into the wild. I had no intentions of keeping him, and I’d been careful to keep any interaction to the bare minimum, but he refused to leave. For two nights, he’d pawed at my door, howled, whimpered and cried so loud that the innkeeper in our small town had come to my house in the morning to complain.

That was the start of our relationship, and he’d remained loyal and calm, as if I were his alpha. I treated him like the wolf he was, and in kind he protected and loved me.

Now as I watch him, I can see that he imprinted on me and I on him. And I am grateful.

Einar finishes off the rabbit with the sharp crunch of breaking bone. He pads silently over to me and noses his way under my coat-blanket, lying curled against my back. His warm head rests on my neck and ear, and I fall asleep to his gentle, even breathing. 

When I wake, the moon is still visible over the mountain peaks. Hvardr is restless, pacing along the wall and whinnying- a behavior I’d never seen in him before. Einar is gone, but I can still feel his warmth against my back. 

I get the feeling that something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

As quickly as I can with my shaking hands, I pack up my things and harness Hvardr. I stamp out the fire until nothing remains, and then I mount my pony and gallop out of the cave. 

His urgency becomes my own. I do not stop him when he speeds up, careening onto an open dirt road. Behind us, a howl echoes among the crisp dawn air; I stop Hvardr and howl back. 

We pace in a circle for a few minutes, Hvardr’s ears flicking at every sound. I cannot help but to watch my back. The air feels wrong somehow, and I am not the only one to think so. 

Einar bursts out of the trees a few hundred feet away, sprinting for us at top speed. His pinned ears and raised guard hairs have me off of Hvardr and running for him before I register the movement. We collide in a mess of furs and wolf, his whines and low growls calmed by my voice. 

“What’s wrong, Einar?” I ask the wolf, burying my hands into the scruff of his neck. He is shaking, panting heavily. 

And then I get my response. 

Men and women- probably ten or so, break from the tree line, coming straight at us. They are brandishing axes and torches and swords, dressed in Viking leather armor. My eyes threaten to pop out of my head. 

All of them stop short when they see me holding Einar against my chest. 

Hvardr, behind me, stamps his foot and sniffs at my shoulder, confused and frightened. He knows better than to spook, so he looks to me for guidance. Einar licks at my jaw and I remain frozen, staring at the line of Vikings before me.

A bear-like man steps forward, hesitates, then walks toward me. The others remain frozen, even as the tall viking leaves them behind. He has an odd look in his eye as he gazes at me. Uneasy, I stand and grab one of my two swords from my packs. 

There’s nothing I can do. Sure, Hvardr can outrun them, but they will hunt us down if we run. They will kill Einar, and probably me, if not rape me and force me to become a slave. I have to think on my feet. I have to survive this. 

So I stand with my feet shoulder width apart, legs braced, shoulders back. I stand with my chin held high, the glistening blade of my sword an extension of my arm and a welcome weight. And I stop the Viking in his tracks with the tip of my sword at his throat when he comes too close. 

Bjorn Ironside, Ragnarsson, Viking, stares down the blade of the most well-crafted sword he’d ever seen, straight into the green eyes of a woman. Her hair is shockingly red, lying about her face in a halo of curls, draped elegantly over her fur coat. He looks at her fur-lined gloves, at the coat made of deer hides and white rabbit furs, at the breeches, at her boots.

His eyes find the wolf and instantly the woman reacts, giving pressure against his neck, nearly breaking the skin. 

“Don’t look at him!” She growls in perfect Norse, her eyes blazing with fury. Bjorn narrows his eyes at her. She wouldn’t dare slit his throat in front of nine other Vikings, all armed and ready to defend their prince at the slightest provocation- or would she? He has never seen her like in all of his years of raids. A woman, with a fine sword and fine clothes, who can handle herself and speak perfect Norse. No, he does not know what she will do. He cannot hope to predict her.

But he knows someone who may.

“I am Bjorn Ironside Ragnarsson,” He starts, surprised to see no spark of recognition in her eyes at the title. Her grip on the pommel of the sword tightens with the ominous creaking of cold leather. “And who, exactly, are you?”

“Drop the axe and tell your friends to do the same, and then we’ll talk.” She growls. Even smarter than he’d thought. So he slowly lowers the axe, lets the handle slip out of his hand. And he nods to his hunting party to do the same with their weapons. 

The woman lowers her sword but does not take her eyes off of Bjorn. Her right hand finds the shoulder of her stallion, the other slips into the wolf’s winter coat. She does not sit. She does not bow. 

“Now tell me, who are you?” He says, his voice just hinting at a threat to which she does not take kindly.

“Do you have a Jarl?” She demands, eyes narrowing into slits. Bjorn shakes his head at her. How can she not have heard? Ivar being King is all he can think about- to his own shame. “A King, then?” The woman persists. 

“Ivar the Boneless.” Bjorn snarls. He spits at the ground beside him, still pissed off that his younger half brother, the cripple, is King instead of him. 

“Ah,” She says, like she understands. “And that would make you his half-brother, if I’m not mistaken?” The way she cocks her head and raises a brow makes him think of a fox, conning its way out of a trap. “Take me to him. It is your King I would speak with, not you.”

Bjorn’s spine stiffens. Behind him, the Vikings snatch their weapons off the ground. Her eyes catch the movement, so Bjorn takes the second to lunge for his axe- but she is too fast and just as he turns to strike her, he finds himself staring up at her from the ground. 

“Which way to your King, Bjorn Ironside?” Her voice is a snarl, a threat. And her wolf, encouraged by the woman, growls at Bjorn, his fangs mere inches from the Prince’s face. 

He points inland, away from Kattegat, hoping she’d get lost and die in the mountains. 

She sheathes the sword and mounts her pony from the ground. 

“I will be sure to tell him about our encounter, Bjorn.” She says with a wink. 

And then she turns the opposite way he’d pointed and gallops straight for Kattegat, the wolf in her shadow.

Tagging (open):  @tis-itheapplepie @thetwistedqueen @inforapound @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @themusingkitten

[reddogf13]

Between two Voids ch 5

Pennywise x Beverly

summery:  It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater? 

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Between two Voids ch 4

next chap: Between two Voids ch 6

_____________________________________

~ch:5 Gifts ~

Back in ITs lair Beverly had hunkered down under the many layers of blankets. Staying in hiding since yesterday after leaving the apartment. Wanting to be left alone completely for a time being. It was the only way she could without the feeling of being watched from the dark. Being unhappy that this was the best she could do, hiding under blankets like a child.

“my life's going well.” she thought to herself. Turning over with a hiss at her ribs.

“maybe the clown can get me painkillers.” Losing patience over feeling aches at every movement.

“how many blankets are there? Where'd he get them all?” she wondered, shifting a bunch of pillows into a pile to rest her head on. Being careful not to knock down the large pillow pillars she formed earlier. Laying under a blanket fort carefully constructed with a mostly empty pizza box sitting nearby. Sighing when her stomach loudly growled. Getting up to shift out of the blanket pile. Peering out first to look for the clowns presence. Squinting toward the darker half of the den not lit. light illuminating half in red out from the wagon sitting near. the other half in partial blue from the outside new morning light falling through the large skylight above.

“looks like hes not here, good.” having not seen him since the night. If she could say she saw him at all with only his yellow eyes floating in the blackness. She took in some of the colder air before settling back down into her hidden fort.

“i don't think I'll ever want pizza after this.” taking up one of the few remaining slices . The wrapping on her hand catching her attention as she ate. Reminding her of the touch he gave on the back of her neck. Rubbing her free hand at the spot to stop the hairs on her neck from standing in remembrance. Mind wandering in reverse at what happened yesterday. Chuckling when Charles got hit with a rock.

“he probably threw that rock because I was taking too long at the door. … he probably heard that kissing comment.” dropping the slice onto the rest in dread.

“maybe he'll forget while hes out doing whatever. … probably hunting.” she thought, picking her slice back up.

Outside under the blazing afternoon sun IT was pacing in thought. Thinking of what his next gift should be. He couldn't do the same gift twice. That would show he was lazy, females did not like males that took shortcuts. Especially when they took them on the first steps of courting.

“the shift in her is different then the average. Not sadness, not fear, something between anxiety and anger.” Pennywise paced at the entrance of the drainage pipe to recall what humans called the specific emotion.

“stress? … what breaks stress?” he stopped mid pace.

“hmm, does any place still sell them here? Maybe that tourist place around the old iron works still sells them.” remembering another common gift given on the red heart day. “ I'll have to present it in a nicer container.” he went off to fetch the gift.

Inside Beverly was drawing swirls into the blanket underneath her. Slightly enjoying that she wasn't in the junkyard on this cold morning ... until now.

“Beverly.” hearing the clown speak her name from the small blanket entrance.

“what?” she asked unenergetic, not in the mood to talk. Growing more agitated as she felt him coming closer.

“got you some things.” setting down another hot drink on the pizza box beside her. Putting down a translucent fabric bag, filled with something heavy, alongside it. Crouching off to the side to watch her reaction over the gift.

Curiosity on the strange bag having Beverly pull it close. Tolerating his presence in her space for the time being. As long as he stayed quiet while sitting far away.

“...rocks?” looking inside the bag with confusion.

“not rocks.” he stated.

“sure looks like rocks to me.” she thought. Finding it the strangest thing he's given to her. Picking one up from the mix to look over.

“try one”

“humans don't eat rocks.” setting the one rock in hand back into the mix.

“they're not rocks.” he repeated. Beverly staring down at them at what she could be missing. Picking one back up for another examination.

“”try one” like he expects me to eat them” she thought with a look over it. Grabbing hold of both ends to press on the middle. The “rock” snapping in two under the pressure. Surprised it broke so easily she looked at the inner core of it.

“its chocolate.” she mouthed to herself. hands breaking the chocolate down a little more into smaller pieces. Trying one small piece gladly as her first piece of candy in years. The chocolate core melting in her mouth with a small crunch from the thin outer shell.

“like it?” His speaking catching her attention with a question coming to mind. Beverly pausing her snacking with a tap of her fingers against the bedding. Contemplating how to approach the matter.

“we have to go outside.” she spoke firmly.

“very well.” disappointed at not getting an answer to his question. Following her out the usual way, but her pace being quicker then normal.

“maybe she didn't like it.” he thought as they walked out the pipe.

“what is all of this?” turning to confront him on the river shore.

“what is what?”

“why am I here?! What's with the medication and all the food?!” she specified.

“you're sick.” his head dipping to the side.

“aaaand?” she tried getting more out of him.

“and what?”

“you planning to keep me stuck here?! what happens when i am better?”

“we'll see.” he shrugged. Beverly turning away with a frustrated sigh.

“you didn't like the gift?” he asked.

“gift?”

“i assume that means no.”

“why give me gifts?” she stared suspiciously.

“isn't that usual of courting?”

“courting?!” she exclaimed with a hard swallow of spit she managed not to choke on from shock.

“yes, courting. Do you use a different word for it?”

“no! I mean, there's no courting -courting of me- specifically- by you!” she kept clarifying on her words.

“why not?”

“wh- ...” she was taken aback by his question. Coming up with a million reasons why not.

“he can't be serious. This is some dark joke. A very creepy joke that's too far, even for him” her thoughts passed by at the speed of light.

“tell me, why are you courting me?!” she demanded to know.

“what reason shouldn't I?” he inquired.

“because, - … I am human! Wouldn't you rather find one of your own kind?!” she said off the list of the most obvious of reasons.

“heh, there is only one other like me and I despise them. If I want a mate I'll have to sss- choose one.” avoiding the word settle. That would not be a word liked upon by a possible mate.

“what about all those attempts to kill me?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“that was many years go when you were still prey to be eaten.” speaking as if it were nothing.

“so what's changed now? That i am older than I used to be?”

“yes, you've also shown your equal in strength. You don't act like prey underneath me. One point in taking a mate is making sure they're strong. So that the pair can be stronger together rather then one being crippled by the other.” he explained.

“you think I can make you stronger?”

“in some ways.”

“what if I don't want to be your mate?” her glare hardened.

“well, it will be your loss on a fine catch.” chuckling with a gesture to himself.

“what if I try to leave? You could be forceful about it.” holding her glare with a serious tone. His happy expression dropping at the mention of force.

“i won't-” he started.

“you could.” tone settling darkly on her words.

“shall you let me tell why I won't? … There is simply no reason for me to. I am not running out of time like you.” looking her in the eye as he spoke. Waiting to continue in case she was going to interrupt again.

“ I have waited this long to court someone, I can easily wait just as long again. A forceful approach only gives cons. You wont get a mate that way, only a threat that doesn't like you in the least. Half the time you must spend energy watching your back. they will kill you the soonest they have the chance or make your life miserable when they don't.

The rest of the time you have to waste energy forcing them to stay. Waste energy fighting every single moment together. Any brood created will have a lower chance of survival as one parent disfavors them. That's more energy being used for something that wouldn't be required normally. You're not my be all end all if you leave.

I have better things to spend my energy upon then trapping you here. Its not even worth doing for a meal.” he finished. Beverly not being completely sure of how honest his words were.

“humans do it for the physical pleasure. Not so much the companion part.” her glare softening a little.

“you humans get it physically while I get it through a feed of energy. It wont do me any good if my other half isn't satisfied.” smirking on the subject.

“so what you're saying is, you only get off when she does?” she asked.

“precisely.” his grin stretched overly wide.

“perfect.” she spoke sarcastically with a hand rubbing her face. Emotionally exhausted after the short time of talking.

“i can just leave then, can't I?” challenging his word on not holding her.

“no, there's still my winning of the bet. You're with me until your illness is better.”

“dammit.” she thought, having forgot about that.

“can you at least get this off my hand?” holding up the wrapped one.

“its not fully healed.” he sighed.

“but if you really want it off.” extending out his hand to her. Beverly setting her own in his again, That chill running down her spine from his touch. Becoming more flustered as his second hand covered hers to gently rub over the wrappings with his thumb. The smooth wrappings growing fuzzier with each smooth over. Taking a piece of it to shred away similar to a cluster of cotton being pulled apart. The rest detaching from her skin after a little pull.

Letting her hand go with the pulled webbing sitting in his. Holding it as the material broke down into dust blowing away with the wind.

“thanks.” She wasn't sure what else to say to him. Freaking out inside that he was courting her. Stuck with him for maybe a month or two until her pneumonia is gone.

“claims i am strong yet he has to take care of me.” she thought.

“is strength the only reason for courting me?” walking by to find a place to sit.

“you can be resourceful at times, clever, loyal.” he listed off from behind her.

“pfft, I am not any of those things.” tone of fake cheer to hide her depression.

“at least you still look delicious. He-he.” Laughing lightly at the look of unease Beverly gave him. He couldn't scare her, but he was still able to enjoy getting under her skin.

“i disagree.” he spoke to break her unsettlement.

“disagree all you want, it doesn't change facts.” fake cheerfulness faltering. Kicking a rock into the water nearby to watch it sink.

“if I was loyal I would still be with the guys. If I was clever would I even be here?” she went off in thought. Dragging her mindset down a dark spiral. Hanging her head low in her hands as she sat on an old fallen log.

“i recognize that emotion.” he thought. Hes caused despair many of times on others, but this will be a first on correcting it.

“like flowers?”

“depends, why?” she let out a tired breath. Watching him put a hand up his sleeve with a yank outward now having a small bouquet in hand.

“like these?” holding them out to her.

“will they burn?” leaning away from the offering. Not entirely trusting offers from him.

“most put them in vases, but sure if you want them to.” bringing the offering closer to him again. The flowers burning away with a small singe of fire. Falling to the ground as a pile of ashes.

“listen clown, I don't want any gifts from you. I rather we just keep space unless there's some important reason not to be.” standing to speak with little care to his reaction on the matter. Either he was being truthful about letting her go or he was lying and shed have to fight for her freedom. For the latter case she'd need to be more prepared first before any attempts.

“i haven't found the right offering yet, is all. I shall keep presenting, eventually I will find an offering you'll like.” speaking as if it were a challenge of his skills.

“no, that's not it! I don't want them! ” she rubbed her forehead.

“your taste is hard to point.” ignoring what she just said with a few thoughts to what she could want.

“nothing's going to work! there will be no courting of me or gift giving or whatever! That is all with no moving on the matter! … are you listening?” she asked at seeing him look off in to the distance to the side. “maybe you'll listen better if I try to leave.” she sighed with a turn to head off.

“you want new clothing?” he asked suddenly with Beverly stopping. thinking carefully on her next action. Considering in her thoughts for a moment.

“i do, but I can't take his gifts. That will just get me into all sorts of trouble.” she debated. Really wanting new clothes that weren't so torn or stained from blood. She walked forward without giving an answer to his question. Thinking that possibly ignoring him would get her own message across that she wasn't going along with this.

“what about a place with hot water?” throwing that offer out next while following behind. Almost causing Beverly to trip over her own feet.

“a place with hot water. Where I could take a shower and not a dip in the cold river. … no, I cant.” she thought. Ignoring him further with a painful bite at her tongue not to accept.

“it will be a room at that fancy hotel.” no reply from her about it. “it won't be a gift. Just a neutral providing.” he added. Having her stop with a heavy tightening in her chest. She inhaled a deep breath with a look to the ground.

“he says it won't be, but I know it is. Being out of the drainage tunnels would be nice, but ...” she fought with herself.

“no.” she painfully answered.

“ I'll shorten my bet winnings.” he offered last. He didn't want to put that on the table, but he needed to grab her with something. Courting wasn't just gifts, it was a show of what you could provide. Confidence in putting on a grand show on shortened time was still high for him. He just needed her to accept and judging by her body language it was becoming impossible for her to say no.

“shortened imprisonment.” she thought.

“shortened by how long?” Wanting to avoid being scammed by him shortening it by just a day.

“2 weeks off the total month left.” he answered.

“over half.” she thought, considering the option. “ I can't accept anything. … he wont stop offering things if I reject. … accepting would get me away faster. I really don't want to regret this … he's really throwing things at me. Maybe ….” an idea coming to light on shifting this further to her advantage.

“take off 3 weeks.” she stated at him.

“that barely leaves anything!” he exclaimed in a deep snarl. With a day already having passed and then another 3 weeks gone. He'd only have 6 days with her fully under his watch.

“you can have that be the last gift. Last gift has to be the best, right?” she smirked with brows raised.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air. Letting out a deep guttural growl from the core of his chest. This was heading a way he did not like.

“you did not want gifts.” narrowing his eyes toward her.

“i'd really like this gift. You don't want to end on a bag of candy do you?” baiting him further with a small smile. Happy to watch him squirm under the pressure. shifting his body with some speaking of an unknown language to himself at the side. Going still in contemplation with a look off to the side like earlier before this whole bargaining started.

The slow look he gave her next had her smile drop. Eyes burning a bright yellow with a growing sly grin. An idea of his own forming on evening the deal for himself.

“I'll give you your gift, if you kiss me.” he stepped closer.

“ … I'll get nothing unless I kiss you?” she glared, stepping back. Her risen mood dropping like the rock she kicked into the river.

“no, you'll get clothes, the hotel, and reduced 2 weeks either way. The kiss will get you the third week reduced.” Her mood raising back up a bit with the kiss being optional.

“how badly do I want that third week gone?” she asked herself in thought. Considering her next words carefully to figure out a way around this. “... it's not a gift anymore. More of an exchange.”

“you're the one who said to stop with the gifts. I thought an exchange would be easier for you to accept. Heh.” he chuckled. “besides, you said you would rather kiss me then someone else. So I can't be that bad.” what he brought up had Beverly turn away to hide the blush growing across her face.

“somebody shoot me now.” she thought with nothing to help her cope over the embarrassment. Collecting herself enough to face him.

“okay.” she spoke the acceptance quickly.

“the faster I get away, the better.” she figured in her mind to take this little bullet.

When he leaned down close she leaned back reflexively. Staying still for the action being difficult with the idea of him getting so close. Flinching away more from his touch of gently holding her chin. Heart racing from her body having learned that touch was not something enjoyable.

“afraid I'll bite? Heh heh.” he teased. Beverly forcing to lock her body still after that comment. Flinching made her seem afraid when she wasn't. Not wanting to portray that while being so close to a mouth filled with teeth.

“shh.” he hushed, slowly moving his hands to hold the sides of her face. She really hoped he couldn't feel her tense shivering in forcing the stillness.

The chill going down her spine settling her pounding heart. Shutting her eyes tightly with him coming close. Unable to back away from his hands holding her in place.

Beverly wasn't sure what to expect from the kiss. Maybe the taste of blood or a feeling of many teeth biting. Instead she got a soft kiss with the light taste of caramel popcorn. A few more kisses passing between the two making it go on longer than intended. The deepening of the kiss sparking an inner excitement Beverly never felt before in a kiss. Her body starved for affection taking anything it could, even from something that can kill her with a bite to the face.

Opening her eyes had her senses come to on what was happening. Shoving him away defensively to get him off. Pennywise releasing her with a step back for space. Standing by as Beverly straightened her clothes with nervous fidgeting over what happened. Avoiding his gaze like it would kill her to lock eyes.

“want the room or the clothes first?” he asked, feeling the same level of energy Beverly got from the kiss. He would have loved to keep the kiss going, but he needed to stay patient with her.

“how will the clothes be picked?” looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He gathered everything else for her, she assumed he would pick the clothes too.

Without answering he pulled a wad of cash from his sleeve. Holding it out for her to take.

“where'd you get this?” slowly taking the cash, suspicious of its origins.

“borrowed it.” he shrugged.

“ did the “borrowing” involve a dog?” already knowing the answer to that question. Remembering what Erik had mentioned yesterday in his paranoid rant.

“no, what dog? No idea what your talking about. Clothing store is not far from here.” he pushed the subject along.

“suuure you don't.” she mumbled. Counting out the money to budget it at the store.

“$321, Erik sure was busy.” she thought.

“I'll be taking my time on this shopping trip. You might as well wait somewhere else.” pocketing the money, walking up the river bank to town.

“you can't walk out to the hotel, its too far. You've already been outside long enough as is with your illness.”

“i won't die by spending 10 more minutes out in fresh air.” waving him off to go wait.

“why are humans so stubborn?” he thought as she left. He thought about following her, but Beverly wouldn't be too happy with him. He'd wait, but only until after her shopping was done. Getting her back to a warmer environment quicker then a long walk would.

“shit, maybe fresh air will kill me.” Beverly thought over the cold air stinging her lungs. The sensation growing to a consistent stabbing pain by the time she entered the clothing store. She stopped to lean against the wall to deeply breath in the warm air. The stabbing pain dying down with each warmed breath of air.

“what have I gotten myself into?” questioning herself walking down the aisle.

“i shouldn't have taken any of that offer. Shouldn't have given that -” she could still taste him with a lick of her lips. Intensely scrubbing her mouth with her sleeve to get his taste off. Shoving her regrets aside to sort through things. Staying picky over her selection to get the most out of her money. Able to get quite a few outfits and a backpack for easy travel.

“a week left then what? Will IT actually let me go? If I escape I'll have to return to Erik. Convince him to leave Derry, but now that he has an actual apartment he's not going to budge. Money will be tight if I move in with him. Charles seems to be rooming with him too.” she thought with a disgusted shiver. Piling everything onto the counter for purchasing.

“if I start making money maybe I can have Erik push Charles out. Charles can only drag out his life savings before his rent cannot be paid. Slime ball won't be hired around here with how much he chases girls away.” slowing her thoughts to count money for payment. Shoving everything into the large backpack to head on her way.

Following the wall outside to round the buildings corner. Buying a few newspapers from the multiple dispensers. Being only interested in the wanted sections at the back. Rolling them all up into one big bundle with a tap at the ends to keep the bundle tight. At the sight of movement she looked away from the bundle in hand.

“your rooms ready.” Pennywise stretched at his arrival back from the hotel.

“i told you to wait.” tapping the newspaper into her other palm.

“the store out of free bags? Why the expensive bag?” he pointed to the one she wore.

“easy for travel. Had a suitcase, but it didn't last on the streets.” shoving down the newspapers into it. Zipping up the small pocket to slip it back on.

“ready?” he asked with an offered hand. Beverly staring at it as if it were a bear trap ready to snap. Reluctant on taking it after everything else today. When she did take his hand a flash of black swept around them. Disappearing just as it arrived with them appearing inside the most front part of the hotel room.

A little motion sickness hitting Beverly at the arrival. The sickness disappearing by walking further into the room to get away from him. Noticing right away that this was the fancy V.I.P room of the hotel.

Fancy living room with full surround sound TV bigger than anyone shed seen before. Mini bar filled with alcohol, snack bar with multiple goodies. Double doors leading to the bedroom with another TV system sitting in front of a large king sized bed. A side sliding door leading to a whole dining area with a long table surrounded by multiple chairs.

Stopping at the dining room doorway at the sight of a buffet of food laid out all across the table. Not one spot being open to see the table top.

“i thought you might be hungry.” he spoke from the main part of the living room.

“i don't eat that much.” seeing over enough food to feed a party of 5. she wouldn't be able to put a dent in no matter how hungry she was. Although her growling stomach was happy to take a chance at the challenge.

“noted.” The point of the food being a presentation over simple feeding. He had to show three times as much in the limited time together. This was just the start of it all with each new presentation planned on being bigger than the last. Smiling widely in satisfaction over the mighty display with no need to hide it. The smile being his common expression in almost any situation already, it would seem no different. The smile twitching at seeing her pass over the food for the bedroom. Questions rising on why she ignored the display.

“not going to eat?” keeping his tone from sounding insulted. How could she ignore such a grand display so carefully arranged by him.

“not yet. I need a real hot shower and a change of clothes. DON'T come into the bathroom.” warning him in her most dead serious tone.

“why?”

“ basic privacy, If you do enter I'll gouge your eyes out with one of the shrimp forks on the table!” she threatened with a slam of the bathroom door.

“hm, should have thought of that. There's a lot more to stab me with here.” he thought with a hum. Being stabbed wasn't deadly, but still not a great feeling to deal with. “as long as I keep her happy I can avoid the issue.” he shrugged off. Ducking slightly to pass through a door way into the bedroom. Looking over everything with judgment at the quality. Especially the bedding that didn't seem nearly as soft as the one he made.

“i can make it better.” already thinking of ways to change the object. Moving on to the attached dining room. “why do humans build everything so small?” he thought over the room sizes.

“can't make that bigger, but I can organize it all to make it seem so.” his calculating paused by Beverly leaving the bathroom. Helped by the warm steam her refreshed scent filled the air around her.

He didn't turn to face her immediately, taking a deep inhale of her scent. Closing his eyes in enjoyment at the flowery scent. Most humans had some sort of scent, but it was always more of a false one. Perfumes that stained the skin or heavy shampoo scrubs that made them smell like a chemical vat.

Beverly let out a breath at finally feeling a pure cleanness on her skin. She bathed in rivers and homeless shelters, but that always involved straight cold to freezing water. Cold water just never felt like it penetrated the dirt enough for her. She loved hot water with just a soap bar for shampoo. Her time on the streets made her a bit more money saving with luxury's. Why buy a bottle of fancy smelling shampoo for six bucks when a plain scentless soap bar was seventy five cents.

She ruffled her hair with a dry towel. Working to get the last bit of water out of all the curls. Finding it dry enough she dropped the towel into a laundry basket by the bathroom doorway. Heading into the dining room with a temporary pause in her steps. The clown standing by the doorway with his back facing her.

“don't you have places to be?” growing tired of his presence being around so much.

“no, nothing more important than being with you.” he replied with a turn to face her. His usual smile plastered on his face.

“ I really don't like this game your trying to pull. … why don't you just eat me and get this whole thing over with.” she glared.

“ ha, that would be counterproductive to the courting.” he joked.

“this is serious! What logic did you get leading up to this plan?! WHY choose me and WHY do you remotely think this plan will work, at all. What kind of joke are you trying to make out of this?!”

“no joke this time. I thought these questions were answered. If you're going to ask the same thing, I will too. you have reasons why I shouldn't?” Leaning down on an arm resting on a countertop followed by a cross of his legs. A feeling that this conversation was going to be long & repetitious.

“obviously in the fight we all had years ago one of us hit you a little too hard in the head. What about the biggest issue, you still eating kids?!” she snapped.

“i haven't eaten one in years … but not by choice.” the first half confident with the last part mumbled in a whisper.

“so you'll eat one if you get the chance to? You didn't think it through on that I wouldn't be very happy about it. That I wouldn't sit by to let it happen.” watching him look off in thought to the side.

Truthfully he hadn't thought that far. He had become far too focused on the challenging thrill of the hunt currently in motion. This pursuing tunnel vision was becoming a recurring weakness with him. One that again had Beverly involved in.

“that's a yes.” she huffed with a hand shoving his chest, having him stand straight again.

“i won't be forgetting that you tried to kill me either!”

“you tried to kill me, we should be even.” shifting his head from side to side with a shrug. Taking in a long breath of air to catch her scent more clearly. Doing so while he could with her standing so close.

“no, no were not even! Not even close!”

“what would make it even? I can get you anything.” he offered.

“nothing! you can't just buy it!” shoving him, body growing a little desperate for air at the exertion. All the talking had kept her body from catching up on the air used. Despite wanting to continue she had to stop the whole interrogation short. Looking away momentarily to take in deep breaths to quickly regain herself to continue. When she turned, ready to speak, she was taken aback as IT had built up a oozing drool in the meantime.

“you're drooling.” was all she could manage to say. Unsure of how she should be feeling now. Was he hungry? Should she be regretting her words of eating her from earlier?

At just realizing he was heavily drooling he flecked out his long forked tongue. Smile dropping with a sweep away of the built up drool in a blink. Her scent had been bringing up a different hunger in him. His mind scolding himself for focusing on it so much. It was a falter in his “normal” composition with poor timing on the currently discussed topics.

“going to eat me?” she asked boldly. A tiredness in her heart wanting it all to end sooner without the games. Facing him in a fight felt far easier to handle than him playing nice.

Her words bounced around in his mind. Drool building up within his mouth at the tempting thought.

Beverly's body tensing with him leaning closer in the slowest manner possible. Her eyes darting around between him, possible weapons and his moving arms. The limbs hovering around both her sides as if preparing to trap her in a encircling embrace of death. invading her personal space with only half a foot separating their faces from one another.

He only wanted a taste.

One lick. One bite. A piercing of her sweet skin.

His jaws clamped tightly shut to hold himself back.

They're eyes locking for what seemed like an eternity. He could read her through them, but she had no way of telling his next move.

She wasn't scared, more prepared for a fight … or death. Body twitching out flinches in preparing itself for pain to hit it. Forcing herself still as not a sense of submissiveness should be shown under his dominating presence. She stood tall, fists tightened, a stare deep into his eyes she held as long as possible before needing to blink.

All of that crumbled away from the answer to her question.

“not how you think.” a grin of sharp teeth stretched across his face. Lines of drool escaping his jaws to fall from his jagged teeth. Bringing his presence back from her personal space, teeth shifting to not be so aggressive. Showing his long twisting tongue with a long drawn out lick of his jaws to sweep up the falling drool. The organ stretching out past a foot long turning from a pinkish red at its tip to a blackening purple toward the back. Sharp looking bristles lining the sides of the darker half, spreading a webbing of drool between each.

This display had Beverly break down from absolute shock. Her mind swearing her heart must have stopped. Maybe she fainted, she wasn't quite sure as the world blacked out around her. Yet, she was still standing when everything came back immediately after. The tenseness in her body washed away to numbness. The world slowing around her until she focused back on him. Not sure what to feel at seeing him stand in front of her with a smirk.

“ I'll leave you for tonight, but I'll return in the morning.” turning away from her with a walk out to the living room. Away from his sight, Beverly let a strong shiver pass throughout her whole body. Hands now shaking off the built up adrenaline rush.

[hiyo-silver]

Behind Blindfolds

Nobody expected the world to end the way it does until it starts. It was always thought to happen all in one go but instead it drags on for years of feigning really living when all they’re doing is surviving. In this situation maybe, surviving is really losing.

Summary: They finally venture out, learning that they may not be the only ones alive and that that may not be a good thing.

Chapter 1 2 3 + ao3

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers@bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose11 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic@boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler@yooonbum @coffeekaspbrak @sedanleystanley

The group finally did talk out who would go and who would stay behind and hold up the fort. Getting settled in the car is a completely different story. Bill obviously takes front seat, not letting go of his promise to drive. Bev is given the passenger seat so she can have more room. Ben is in the back between Richie and Eddie, the idea of him being in the middle being to avoid pda as much as possible.

“You sure about this blind driving thing?” Beverly asks, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, she trusts Bill, or at least she wants to. But driving to the store without even being able to see anything at all seems like an idea that’s not the smartest. She doesn’t even know if he can drive well. Hell, he hasn’t even shown proof of a driver’s license.

“It’s n-not completely blind,” Bill shrugs, clicking on the navigation to type in the address. “Technology d-don’t fail me n-now,” he says with a nervous chuckle. He hears Stan open the garage from the inside of the house with the remote. It’s go time now, no turning back at this time. The lives of all of the losers are on his back now. And he’d feel bad if he left Kay alone with a grumpy Stan for longer than he needs to.

The gps calculates their location, contacting the satellites to calibrate how Bill can get them to the supermarket. He pulls forward out of the garage, it feels completely wrong to do without sight. The atmosphere outside is eerie, and it feels unsafe to be out in the open like this, even if they can’t be affected by the monster by sight. The most concern builds when they roll over something large and hear a crunch. Bill excuses it as a speed bump and the others hesitantly agree for their own sanity.

Until the car crawls over another, Bev closes her eyes and breathes out a deep breath, her mouth in an anxious o shape. “Another speed bump?” she asks, the denial is so much better than the truth they all know. They’ve all been out here at least once in their process to get to safety. They saw what was happening to people. Just like what happened to their own Mike but out in the open, one after another after another.

“Yeah. K-kids live around here. It’s to keep them safe from speeding cars,” the explanation almost hurts more. All the kids, It can get kids. It’s probably easiest to get kids, they’re smaller and more vulnerable. It’s done before anyone could think to save a child. They could even run over a kid. Running over people like useless roadkill is one of the hardest things the group has gone through this far. At least Kay isn’t here for it, she’s much too soft and cares too much about people for this not to traumatize her forever.

Suddenly the car goes off beeping. They’re too close to something on the right side, and the suddenly the left too, and in front and behind. They’re surrounded by something. The car is shaking and quivering like something on the outside is touching it and attacking. It does stop though, only after Bill slams hard on the breaks. He speeds ahead, finally the car stops beeping and signifying that something is too close. They’ve gotten away.

The gps lady announces their arrival at the supermarket after what feels like it’s been forever. They’ve never been so relieved as when they can stop the car and return the blindfolds to their eyes. The next challenge is getting in, and that’s where bringing Ben along comes in. He has a key tethered to his vest, which he has along to ensure their entry, and the ability to lock the doors up behind them again. They walk together, all connected like a chain of preschool toddlers. Ben leads, fingering around the door for the lock, finally able to shove the key up the hole of the lock and getting it to fall to the pavement with a cracking sound.

He takes more strength than necessary to pry open the sliding doors. The place is barren, nobody is here so of course the door has to be opened manually. Who knows if it’ll ever be opened automatically ever again. He gets it closed again after they all file in. They take role before the door gets entirely closed to be sure that they’re not leaving anyone else there. Finally they all pull up their blindfolds to reveal the scene they’ve entered.

The lights all slowly turn on, one box on the ceiling by one. It’s even more eerie than driving in the dark, a supermarket entirely empty is the oddest sight they’ve witnessed this far. Everything is mostly in order, as much as it can be after people rushed to grab things in the wake of this tragedy. They all start walking through the aisles on their own, separating but not dropping their guard by any means. They may never learn to trust the world around them again.

Beverly walks down the frozen foods aisle, looking up and down, trying to find something that would be of use to them. Nothing perishable, she has to remind herself, then wandering her way to where the canned goods are, those should be the best. She grabs a basket from the end of the aisle, picking up some beans and some corn, questioning whether or not the group would want peas or not. Ben looks around the entire store, wrinkling his face up.

“I’m not cleaning any of this up, I hope you’re not expecting me to,” he says with a sheepish chuckle, making his way down to the staff room to see if anything useful was left back there, though it’s not likely. Bill makes his way to where the potato chips and soda is, figures for a man of his age, probably taking community college courses. It doesn’t take a lot for them to constantly realize how actually little they know about each other other than the fact that they’re alive together in whatever this bullshit is.

“Attention shoppers, losers, meeting in aisle 27,” a voice slurs over the loudspeaker. They all listen and make their way to the same aisle that the voice had commanded. The apocalypse is like the military, it teaches people to follow instructions without question. They find Richie with the microphone for the speaker in one hand and a bottle in the other. Pinot grigio, they should have known that he’d be a wine drinker, too much of a pussy for harder liquor and not having the taste for whiskey or scotch. It brings some of them small chuckles, Richie always brings them laughs when they think they can’t even smile. A perfect buddy for a situation like this.

“We should stay here forever,” he slurs out with a grin, holding up the bottle as if it was a toast. A toast to them. “Food, safety, space, most of us,” he suggests. He seems really proud of the revelation, though all the others question him.

“Richie, what about Kay and Stan? And Kay’s baby, huh?” Eddie asks, his voice daring Richie to argue with him, he’s smaller than Richie but it’s always been very clear that he’s the one who’s in charge of the two. They’d all say Eddie was the logical one, not the smart one necessarily, but he’d be damned if you couldn’t call him logical.

Richie looks almost embarrassed as he keeps speaking, “What about them? Isn’t it every man for themselves?” he asks, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He wouldn’t normally be selfish, but drunk Richie is a different kind of Richie, a Richie they wouldn’t want to know. At least he hasn’t been much of a drinker in the past few months of his life, though the stress of now may bring it back.

“Richie, no,” Eddie says sternly, pulling the bottle fr’s hand, it shatters on the floor, leaving the yellow liquid to spread across the floor, Richie wearing a pout on his face. “Get yourself a bottle of water and drink it all, dickhead,” Eddie spits out bitterly. He especially doesn’t like drunk Richie, he’s a big reason it took them so long to actually get together.

The conversation is cut short, though, by a loud banging on a door in the back of the store, the loading door where deliveries are often received. Ben tells them that as he walks carefully in the direction of that door. “Hello?” he calls, patting his palm against the door firmly to let the person know how close he is now.

“Ben? Is that you?” a voice calls back in near hysterics, he’s very obviously sobbing, hiccups and choked coughs loud enough to hear through the door, it breaks the losers’ hearts to hear it, though they still question whether to help or not.

“Yes, Victor?” he replies, softening more than the other losers, it’s a coworker of his. The coworker has always been a little out of it, someone hired so the company could prove they hired people who have had a troubled past. He was an ex con, though he’s not sure if Vic was actually guilty or not, he just knows he’d been in prison for two years after his senior year of highschool. But Ben doesn’t judge. Vic has been nice enough to him, at least for someone who wasn’t in normal society for how long he wasn’t.

“Let me in, please, they’ve left me here to die,” Victor sobs, Ben doesn’t know how else to react. He starts to open the door slightly only for Vic to push on it roughly, Ben tries to keep it closed. He wants to help but the desperation only makes him nervous. The door gets pushed open again and as Vic starts into the entrance Ben sees his eyes and knows what they’re under and knows what he has to do, he runs at Vic, pushing both of them out into the parking lot. The losers hear a scream behind the slammed door. It hurts, but it just means they need to get going faster. Loss is growing to be a normal part of their current situation.

Bev can only distract herself by going back into an aisle. She hears chirping a few aisles down. She’s shocked to find them alive, but there’s three parakeets in a white wire cage. It hurts her deep inside. None of them had really thought of the animals. With hardly any thought she opens the cage and puts them in a small box with some holes poked for air. She can’t just leave them. Maybe it’s maternal instinct or hormones, but she knows she just can’t.

She even remembers a poster in the guest room. It identifies different species, Stan is obviously interested by them. There’s something like that in the office too. Maybe Stan would even care about the birds, something to make him smile once they get back. An apology for making him stay at the house in that time.

She hides them in the basket, finally meeting up with the others at the front of the store, they’re returning their blindfolds to their heads to carry their load to the car. For some reason it almost feels like a normal family shopping trip. Maybe this will be the life that becomes normal in their eyes. Bev doesn’t know if she finds that thought comforting or if it’s just plain sad.

[bliphany]

Fanfiction Rec Day - Rinch

I am late, but..., it’s fanfiction rec day and how can I resist not to mention some of my fave Rinch stories? I love Rinch fic writers, they wrote some of the most tender, mutually respecting, and consensual partnerships, with reasonable angst which often rewardingly resolved (or rewardingly not) in the end. You can always feel their love toward characters (not only to this pair but included other characters.) Also, the way they put words together is beautiful.

This is a Long list. Really I’m not joking. It’s too long I decided not to include their summary. Just ep-related tags and some fyi, please still read the original tags per your preference. I’ll put a keep reading below. Not sure how it'll look like on the phone. Hope you’ll still love me. :p

(not in particular order) (*: personal comforting stories)

But I learned not to want by violentdaylight (asexuality)

pretense never suited us by the_ragnarok (asexuality) *

Going Nowhere by halotolerant (4C)(Provenance) *

The Raven Project by iteration *

A Bottomless Well of Jealousy by iteration *

All the things we don't talk about by iteration

An Unstoppable Force by iteration (M/F)(Fem!Finch)

Night's Candles by hedda62

Relief by hedda62 *

What Rough Beast by hedda62 (4C)

Then Move Not by hedda62 *

The Human Heart by hedda62

Details by esteefee

Army of Survivors by esteefee

Belief by talkingtothesky *

Extensional Context by nogoaway *

On the Day After Tomorrow by Draycevixen

Discretion by JinkyO

Follow Me Home by talkingtothesky

the best is yet to be by talkingtothesky *

A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement by Toft *

A More Subtle Trap by Giddygeek *

Absolutely Necessary and Altogether Impossible by esteefee

Hypernym by esteefee (Dead Reckoning)

Five Times Finch Compared Reese To Dillinger by StarlingJedi

At Certain Hours It All Breaks Down by nogoaway (Dead Reckoning)

We Pick Up the Pieces and Move On by Mystical_Artist (Dead Reckoning)

What's On the Table by cortue (Dead Reckoning)

The Raven of Odin by Dien

What No Angel Knows by astolat

Technical Support by astolat

Dangerous if Unbound by astolat

Spit and Polish by Toft

Outsider Perspective by Neery

Memento Mori by astolat (The Crossing)

Drifting by astolat

Perchance by galaxysoup

Praying in agony on waiting shores by Lenore

Penetration Testing by Toft

Data Corruption by SpicyCheese

High Risk by Toft

we make hope from every small disaster by violentdaylight

let’s be clear, i’ll trust no one by violentdaylight

But every fire is a lesson learned by violentdaylight (Fem!Reese/Fem!Finch)

I've been waiting all my life (you're not a day too soon) by violentdaylight

reese/finch morning after ficlet by violentdaylight

code blue by violentdaylight *

In a Parallel Fashion by nogoaway

His Legs of Iron by nogoaway

on the reliability of surgical knots and sutures by violentdaylight *

the invention of the modern piano by violentdaylight

Panzo con un Amico by Vagabond *

Press My Nose to the Glass Around Your Heart by Perpetual Motion *

When Things Explode by StarlingJedi (Number Crunch)(Super)

These Games We Play by Mystical_Artist *

Misunderstandings by thisstarvingartist

Catch a Boat to England, Baby (Maybe to Spain) by leupagus

It's Memories That I'm Stealing by Draycevixen

The Good Dog by Draycevixen

Layover by nogoaway (4C)

Belonging by nogoaway

cor unum by Draycevixen (Deus Ex Machina)

Bear Care by Draycevixen

The Ocean Doesn't Want Me Today by Draycevixen

Comfortable by hiddenlongings

Endearment by talkingtothesky

saved from any evil wind by the_ragnarok

Sympathy for the Hellhound (and the Broken Winged Bird) by RyuuzaKochou

Your Voice in My Head by CaroltheQueen (always_1895)

A Lifetime For A Day by eyeus *

Proving A Point by eyeus

Burning Sea by Rosslyn

keeping ground by Rosslyn

I show not your face... by Michaelssw0rd

Luna's Arrow by Rosslyn

Exhale by Dien

The Proposition by esteefee

Self Defense by Speranza

Come Away With Me by talkingtothesky

Dissociation by bjjones

Blizzard by the_ragnarok

Reel you in and spit you out. by Michaelssw0rd *

Bird's Eye by waterfallliam

First Time by TheHiddenMemory

Touch by aerye *

Outcall by aerye

Idols on Ash by darkmagicalgirl

Nourriture de l'amour by aerye

Difficult To Name aka Titles Are Difficult by elbowsinsidethedoor *

Pallas's Rosefinch by elbowsinsidethedoor

Give And Take by elbowsinsidethedoor

Anomalous by TheHiddenMemory

The Importance of Timing by talkingtothesky

Undeclared Variables by brinnanza

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by talkingtothesky

Pillow Talk by Michaelssw0rd *

Sub Rosa (Behind Closed Doors) by Jo (jmathieson)

After Action by Huggle (Foe)

The Reese Technique and the Finch Response by Rosslyn

The Final Frontier by Rosslyn

Personal Training by Rosslyn

Summer dreaming by RussianWitch

Troubleshooting by Dien (Bad Code)

Expert flirting. by Michaelssw0rd

Like the Wind Needs the Trees by halotolerant (4C)

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

‘Choosing Sides’ Part Eighteen - Rip His Arm Off

Selina gave Miho a good look over when she arrived for her shift, her expression even.

“Your date with Mr. Baba went well then?” she enquired, and Miho blinked at her in surprise while her face conflagrated.

“We were just catching up,” Miho clarified. “It wasn’t a date.”

“I see,” Selina mused. “I don’t know how well you know him, but just be aware he’s definitely a bit of a rogue with the ladies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Miho nodded, trying to cool down her face without it looking like she was. “I’m aware of employee rules, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You don’t seem like the rule breaking type,” Selina nodded.

“Of course she isn’t,” a voice cracked, and both Selina and Miho straightened to the unannounced arrival of Eisuke, looking sour as ever. “No one breaks rules on my time.”

“Mr. Ichinomiya,” Selina greeted with a nod. “It’s unusual for you to come down here in person: problem?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m appropriating Miss Ohira.”

He’d taken her arm before she realised, and it took a few steps away from Selina before Miho twisted free, shooting Eisuke a pointed look before softening it to something more akin to surprise.

“I’m sorry I just… you’re taking me where exactly?” she asked, frowning a little as she looked into his face.

Rich… powerful… handsome… dominant… entitled…

“I need a date, and you’re it,” he declared. “But not…”

“Excuse me?” Miho blurted, bewilderment clashing with irritation.

“Was I unclear?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing.

Unclear about consent maybe?

“No, I heard you, Sir,” Miho managed, reining in the sharp edge of her tongue. “You just, caught me off guard. I have a lot of work to do and…”

“You work for me, don’t you?” he asked rhetorically.

“Well, I do, but going on dates is not in my contract,” she pointed out, and in response, Eisuke bent a little closer to her.

Miho took a step back, her feet moving apart just the right amount, her arms ready to lift in defence, and she hadn’t even thought about it.

“So, you want to fight me?” he enquired, eyebrows raised, eyes shining with amusement. “Interesting.”

“I don’t want to fight you, Mr. Ichinomiya,” Miho said, trying not to spit, trying not to push back so hard he backhanded her right out of the hotel - because aside from being backhanded, that would be the end of her investigation.

Baba had provided an opportunity for her to gather information, and here, in the form of hubris personified, she was presented with another.

“But I am an employee here, not an object over which you have ownership,” she continued. “Perhaps if you had simply asked me if I would be your date?”

Eisuke’s head tilted a little.

“Would you have agreed?” he questioned, and Miho gave it a few seconds of thought.

“Yes,” she answered finally, and with a satisfied grin, Eisuke held out his hand to her.

“Then I don’t see a problem,” he announced.

She knew he did, he just disregarded everything other than what he wanted. An arrogant tyrant he was, but a shrewd one.

“Define date,” she instructed slowly, her hand reaching outward cautiously.

“A stickler for detail,” he noted, watching her face as her hand inched closer to his and then stopped, hovering.

If he snatched her hand, she would recoil, he could see it in her posture; he could also see she was daring him to, so she could justify another burn.

“I require accompaniment for a ridiculous awards ceremony,” he clarified after a few more seconds. “Not whatever sordid imaginings you’ve cooked up.”

“I do have a very vivid imagination,” she volleyed, “and so better to be safe than sorry.”

Her fingers twitched, but still remained just shy of agreement.

“If this ceremony is so ridiculous, why go at all?” she asked, and Eisuke snorted out an incredulous laugh.

“You really do know nothing about me,” he sniffed. “Of course I’m winning the award, again, for Tokyo’s most successful businessman under forty, though they only introduced the age categories because they realised no one else would ever get a look in.”

“Final question,” she announced, all the while weighing up the pros and cons of agreeing.

Kaga would probably lose his shit if he hadn’t already given the revelation she’d made to Goto last night – Con.

Getting closer to the most powerful man in the hotel, and evidently Tokyo’s most successful businessman under forty could provide her with further opportunities to identify both the seller and buyer of the stolen information, not to mention potential entry to the penthouse and nearby restricted access suites – Pro.

Sorry Kaga.

“Why not ask one of what must be a large number of by far more societally influential women dogging your shadow?” she posed.

“Because they want something from me,” he pointed out easily. “Money, power, marriage, the easy life, whatever it is, their eyes cloud over – it’s nauseating. You, on the other hand…”

And he looked at their palms again.

“…I think you’d rather tear my arm off,” he finished. “And money can’t buy that kind of amusement.”

“So I’m the entertainment?” she frowned, retracting a little, and it was then Eisuke seized her fingers with reflexes Miho failed to avoid.

“That’s another question, Miss Ohira,” he remarked, and Miho grit her teeth.

He was right, she wanted to rip his arm off and beat him with it.

“Answer it, Mr. Ichinomiya,” she directed, not blinking. “Please.”

The afterthought made Eisuke actually laugh.

“Yes,” he confirmed, softening his grip just a little. “I’m bored, and you’re not nearly as afraid of me as you should be. But I don’t want you to think I’m taking without giving: name your price.”

Penthouse suite for the rest of my life?

Holiday somewhere tropical?

Bling for days?

“A favour,” she smiled as it came to her. “A favour from the most successful businessman in Tokyo… under forty.”

Eisuke thought he’d won.

Miho thought she’d won.

“You drive a hard bargain for a nobody,” he observed, sliding his thumb across the back of her hand before letting it go. “Done. Now stop wasting my time, you’re not nearly ready enough to be seen in public with me.”

“It’s not going to take an entire day to get ready,” she asserted, shaking her head a little.

“Oh, yes it is,” he replied flippantly, and walked off, expecting her to follow.

Style hair, put on make-up, don pretty frock, match shoes and bag, add jewellery.

That’s the normal process.                                                              

But Eisuke’s idea of Miho ‘getting ready’ was a true production.

He left her in the hands of one of the hotel’s stylists, who co-ordinated all her appointments across the day – dress and shoe fitting, body scrub, nails, three different hairdressers squabbling over the best do, make-up artistry, accessorising and embellishing. The only real breaks she had were to snack and go to the toilet – also the only time she was alone enough to send through an update to Uncle Fujiwara.

The reply read, “Use extreme caution. Check in when you return,” and Miho had to believe the message wasn’t Kaga’s.

When the finally time arrived for Miho to actually meet with Eisuke, she was thoroughly exhausted. She tried not to fidget in the gown the stylist had ultimately chosen out of Eisuke’s shortlist; it said as much about him as it did reveal Miho’s skin – very different to Baba, who had most certainly had her modesty in mind when he’d delivered her his dress.

“Hotel uniform does look good on you,” Eisuke said when he approached her in the lobby, his judgement one hundred percent transparent, “but this is a marked improvement.”

“I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Ichinomiya,” Miho smiled reservedly, “however, it’s all a little over the top.”

“No such thing,” he smirked, and offered her his arm.

“The mind boggles at the cost of this dress alone,” she muttered as she attached herself to him and they headed for the doors, “let alone the jewellery.”

“A couple of million probably,” Eisuke shrugged – pocket change really, but Miho couldn’t help but choke on the idea of walking around with that much money dangling off her body. “So don’t disappear,” he added as they approached the limousine waiting for them outside. “Soryu will find you and after that…”

“It’s a little early in the evening for threats, don’t you think?” Miho sighed, rolling her eyes and pausing to look back at him in the open doorway of the limo. “I haven’t even had champagne yet.”

“Let’s rectify that,” Eisuke responded smugly, motioning for her to get into the vehicle before following.

“So, Mr. Oh is your personal goon squad?” Miho questioned, seating herself carefully so as not to be indecent.

“Hardly,” Eisuke chuckled, handing her a flute of chilled champagne. “But times are dangerous, and Soryu is excellent at what he does.”

An evasive answer.

Miho looked into the glass at the shimmering liquid, then over the rim at Eisuke.

“Think I’m really so common as to drug your drink?” he frowned indignantly.

“Times are dangerous,” Miho pointed out, using his own words against him, but she lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip, which seemed to assuage Eisuke a little.

His eyes, however, warned her not to push him too far, that he had his limit and he wasn’t going to suffer her if she crossed the line.

Eggshells… crunch crunch.

Conversation after that was minimal. Perhaps Eisuke hoped the silence would cause her to squirm and in all honesty Miho was uncomfortable – but she was not going to squirm for him.

“Is it strange,” she asked when she took his hand and gracefully unfolded from the limousine, “attending an event like this in another five-star hotel?”

“Hmph,” Eisuke snorted derisively, escorting her into the golden lit lobby of the Hilton Tokyo. “Four-star and barely that.”

“So you don’t consider them competition?” she asked, nodding kindly to the concierge, who had taken one look at Eisuke and called an elevator.

“Nobody, is competition,” he smirked: cocky but he truly believed it.

“And why is that, Mr. Ichinomiya?” she continued, preceding him into the elevator.

Her question had been casual in tone, but when the elevator doors closed, she became suddenly aware of the fact they were alone in a very confined space.

“I have more money, and more influence than anyone in this city,” he said just behind her shoulder, and Miho turned around to face him, even though she might have liked to move away. “Isn’t that why you asked for a favour?” he went on. “Because you know I can grant you anything?”

“Anything?” she repeated, tilting her head a little, and as if taking this as a challenge to his reach, Eisuke shuffled a little closer to her.

“Anything,” he stated flatly, eyes cold and apparently displeased by her doubt.

“This,” Miho began evenly, though inside she had scuttled as far back against the wall as she could get, “is going to be a really long evening if you spend it trying to intimidate me.”

She was the first to look away, but she made a point to turn her body slightly away from him without widening the gap between their bodies.

“If I was trying,” he stated, the weight of his hand against her hip far greater than flesh and bone alone, “you’d know it.”

Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson!

Her chin lifted and she glared as her fingers encircled his wrist, just as the elevator chimed and the doors opened.

“It might be a little embarrassing,” she whispered through her teeth, not jerking his hand away as she had intended now they were exposed, “if your arm candy abandoned you.”

Instead, she lifted his hand slowly with a comfortable smile, and turning to the elevator opening, once more entwined their arms.

“Someone with the audacity to ask me for a favour,” he hissed against the side of her head as they walked toward the ballroom entrance, “wants it for a reason.”

Uniformed hotel staff opened the double doors dramatically, and there Eisuke paused to look pointedly into his arm candy’s face.

“And that’s why you won’t abandon me,” he finished with obvious satisfaction.

The ballroom was already packed with men in tuxedos and women in expensive gowns; the king and his escort were fashionably late, but that made sense.

All eyes seemed drawn to them as they were enveloped by the warm orange glow of the room, an Eisuke’s expression slipped into haughty indifference. Together they carved a path through envious men and doe-eyed women, and only occasionally did Eisuke stop to greet someone – always his terms, not theirs. They glanced at Miho, but passed her over; she was little more than an accessory, just like the diamonds in her ears and hanging around her neck.

She smiled graciously when someone happened to make eye-contact, but was never engaged in conversation, which actually made it easier for her to study the sycophants attempting to get into Eisuke’s good graces.

By the time entrees were served, however, her cheeks were aching, and she was glad to take her seat. Effectively a persona non grata, she was not involved the discussions around the table of eight, that comprised of a politician and his wife, two high ranking public servants and a CEO of an engineering firm with his… toy.

Dialogue revolved around currency prices, import-export tax, tourism trends and constrictive government policy, which was not especially unlike much of what Miho had been involved during her work with government agencies. The difference was the serious tension between each of the men, and the catty, sideways glances between the women.

After main course, there was applause when Eisuke was called to the podium, but Miho was much more interested in studying the crowd than she was in listening to whatever arrogant rubbish Eisuke spouted in his acceptance speech. Glowering, sneering, disgruntled, jealous, as politely as people spoke to Eisuke face to face, there was no small amount of envy from the competition and those who wished desperately to be him.

It wasn’t until Eisuke stood behind her chair and lightly placed his large, cool hands against her bare shoulders that she snapped out of her thoughtful daze.

“You wouldn’t call me boring, would you?” he whispered directly into her ear.

“I could summarise if you’d like to test exactly how much I consolidated,” she replied, trying to relax beneath his fingers as they tapped, turning her head a little to meet him half way.

“No, I think it’s time we made a real spectacle of ourselves,” he smirked, pulling her chair back enough to indicate she should stand.

“How exactly?” she questioned, unable to not look or feel slightly worried.

He took her hand in answer, and led her to the centre of the absolutely empty dance floor, surrounded by the wealthy and the important who once more looked their way.

“Being the centre of attention is not really my thing,” she muttered while trying not to grimace or flush with embarrassment.

This proved all the more difficult when Eisuke snaked his free arm around her waist and rested it on her hip.

“If you didn’t want to be stared at,” he told her, pressing himself against her as the piano and cello began to play some light jazz, “then you shouldn’t have worn that dress.”

“You really love having power over people, don’t you?” she noted a little bitterly as she followed his lead in time with the music, trying to ignore the fact they were the only ones dancing.

“Absolutely,” he dropped as if as much was elementary.

Abruptly he turned her, like he really was trying to get her to screw up, but Miho stepped around his feet with the confident alacrity of someone well acquainted with formal dance.

“Is it worth it?” she asked him, every few seconds the room nothing but a blur of dapple and light. “Coming to an event like this just to stand before a group of men who are either desperate to join you, or who’d love to see you fall?”

“It’s important the plebs understand their place,” he remarked, his hand slipping further toward the small of her back.

“And the hundred or so women in this room who’d murder their first born if it meant they could trade places with me right now?” she probed, if only to distract herself from the pressure of his fingers. “I know what you said earlier, but surely a union with some wealthy heiress would only advantage you. Mhm, though if you squeeze me any more tightly, tongues will wag.”

“I don’t need the help of a woman to gain an edge in business, or anything for that matter,” he said pointedly, lips actually brushing her earlobe as he spoke, and Miho’s body tensed.

“Is that right?” she frowned, sliding her jaw from one side to the other before accidentally stepping on his toe. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“You will be if you do that again,” he growled against her neck, but Miho chuckled.

From the outside she wondered what they looked like – what story was their audience conjuring about their non-existent relationship from this farce?

“You don’t like it when your entertainment gets the upper hand?” she queried, but her smile wavered as his hand crept up to the hidden zipper at the back of her bodice. “What are you…?”

“You don’t, have the upper hand,” he exhaled to her cheek.

Their noses brushed as she turned her head, and there was a few seconds of steely eye contact, before Eisuke leant Miho back so far her carefully sculpted curls nearly brushed the floor.

“Having fun?” Miho swallowed as he held her there at a complete disadvantage.

“Very much so,” he smirked, placing his other hand to the side of her face and touching his thumb to her lips, just as the music stopped.

More obsequious clapping punctuated the moment, and Eisuke only righted Miho once it began to wane.

“What other tricks am I supposed to perform tonight?” she asked, and then immediately regretted her turn of phrase.

“Your words, not mine,” he pointed out, actually emitting a satisfied chuckle, short lived though it was.

“What an exquisite companion,” an attractive man complimented when they finally made it off the dance floor, eyeing Miho up and down – flattering perhaps, but respectful?

Certainly not.

Before Miho could even purse her lips to form a polite acknowledgement, Eisuke had jerked her against him, once more coiling his arm around her waist.

“You’ll have to forgive Mr. Ichinomiya,” Miho smiled, retaliating with her words, “he’s used to having things all to himself.”

“Well this is my night,” he declared, but Miho was satisfied with the warning dig of his fingers into her side.

“Please excuse me,” she then smiled sweetly. “It’s well past time I powdered my nose.”

Despite clearly wishing to convey to his rivals this concubine was his, there was not a whole lot Eisuke could do other than let her go when she pulled the bathroom card.

So he let her go, and with her fake smile dialled back down to a simmer, Miho collected her clutch from her seat and took refuge in a toilet stall.

In a slump she allowed the pent up tension to leave her body – verbal combat and the constant tight-rope walk was putting a strain on her in a much different way than sparring with Kaiji.

“And what exactly have you learned?” she asked herself, shaking her head. “But surely… a man like this, he would know… he has to know something.”

Gathering herself, and what reserves of energy and resilience she could, Miho eventually left the bathroom and began down the wide corridor, but a familiar voice caused her to stop in her tracks.

“So it is you, Miss Fujiwara.”

Continue to Part Nineteen - Give It To Me