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in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather · 8 months

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Birthday Week Vignettes

As a little gift for my bestie and worstie, for her birthday week, I’ve written a selection of fun little vignettes (stretching the terms fun, little and vignette to mean several thousand words of something gory or fucked up).

It has been the greatest and most treasured experience I’ve had on here getting to know you. From the hilarious shit talking, to expanding my horizons in terms of what I read and write, and giving each other constant new ideas and support, I am so grateful for all the downsides of existing in an online space as it’s meant making a wonderful, cherished friend. Happy birthday and may we enjoy your presence in our lives and this garbage fire for a long, long time to come! 😍😍❤️❤️😈😈 @safarigirlsp

Day 1; assassin!Mills x RC

Summary: The Museum needs two operatives to pose as a married couple and go into a chateau full of depraved people letting loose and acting out their fantasies in an Eyes wide shut-type party. That old chestnut.

A/N: I’m a sucker for going undercover as a couple, in every iteration of that trope, and undercover at a sex party is an especially fun variation. This little episode didn’t fit into my main assassin!Mills story, but it was too interesting to throw out completely, so this seems like the best way to share it. If you like the premise, I’m happy to write a conclusion for it.

CW: mentions of wlw, mlm, group sex, fetishes, voyeurism, dubcon, murder, drugs, alcohol, sex work

WC: ~5.5k

Cipher and Gage picked up their small leather bags soon after they landed, exiting the airport hand in hand. Cipher’s steel toe boots thumped loudly on the tiles, his long leather coat rustling with every casual move of his tall, broad frame. Gage sized him up out of the corner of her black-rimmed eye, appreciating the sexy, disheveled swoop of his sandy hair, the frosty glint of his blue eyes, his sharp jawline dusted with a few days’ growth of beard. Her eyes wandered lower, to the tight black tank top that peeked out from his unbuttoned white shirt, the studded belt drawn tight around his narrow hips, and the tightly coiled muscles of his legs working under his equally tight pants. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him in the car. Their quick encounter in the airplane toilet was too short for her appetite.

She walked briskly in her six inch shiny leather boots, barely reaching his shoulder despite the added height, feeling the chill in the airport as a gust blew under her scandalously short skirt. A man walking past them balked at what the blown up material revealed and she giggled to herself. Cipher squeezed her hand tighter and walked even faster in retaliation, leaving her to practically run to catch up with him. They barely jumped into the stretch limousine parked and waiting to take them to the rendezvous point that Rostov decided on when Cipher pulled her roughly onto his lap and glared, squeezing his large hand painfully around her thigh until she squirmed and pouted, removing her round Windsor sunglasses and giving him a plaintive look, all innocence and invitation. She had often remarked that it didn’t serve him any good to get all worked up over other men ogling her like that; if he wanted an attractive and flirty wife like her, then there were consequences to deal with.

They had enough time to redress and clean up as well as could be managed on a backseat when the limousine pulled up on Museum property. The partition rolled down and an Acquisitions operative pointed the barrel of a gun at the pair.

The heavy metal door creaked and moaned as it was pushed open for Adriane. She entered the small circular cell, windowless and bleached by harsh white halogen lights, where Cipher and Gage sat bound and gagged.

Without gracing either with eye contact, Adriane walked briskly, sweeping an elegant circle around the small cell, her heels clacking an ominous rhythm on the concrete floor. “In a moment, you will be separated. You will never see each other again,” she spoke the chilling words quietly and emotionlessly, as though to herself, as she circled the young pair like a crow awaiting carrion to feast on. “Whoever talks first will go free. The other will not leave this place alive.” She tossed the last words over her shoulder as she slipped like a shadow out the door and it closed heavily behind her.

She was not negotiating. She was not trying to entice them with anything only to pull the rug out from under them, as other people they had dealt with in the past had. The pair understood the danger they were in as they locked eyes, determined to leave this place together, and alive.

30 minutes, my office. A, the letters scrolled across the beeper in your hand.

When you arrived, with a minute to spare, you were feeling pretty smug about yourself that you managed not to be late, to say nothing of the fact you were chosen as the operative to be entrusted with this last minute, highly sensitive task.

Adriane’s office looked like the wardrobe department of some grungy photo shoot, with distressed denim, faux leather, fishnets and studs galore. Racks and racks of clothing were hurriedly rolled in, no doubt for the purpose of outfitting for this impromptu exhibition you were going on.

“Our guests have a meeting with their prospective employer this evening. We intercepted the coordinates Rostov provided and took Cipher and Gage on a detour here,” Adriane informed as Mills strode out from behind a rack with an armful of clothes. You looked from him to Adriane, wondering if this was some test and her omitting he would be there was supposed to catch you by surprise. Satisfied you did not betray your heart jumping into your throat, you diverted your attention to the racks of female clothing surrounding you.

“Won’t he know we’re not them? You know, when he looks at us?” you asked too snarkily for someone who knew Adriane wouldn’t waste anyone’s time if this was a real concern.

“Rostov doesn’t know what they look like. Both he and our guests are too discreet in their dealings to allow something like that. And the private party you are attending is designed to ensure privacy. At least where your faces are concerned.”

You felt a nervous knot tie in your gut, thinking ahead at what the night would more than likely demand of you. “And their stupid nicknames?” you asked, forcibly casual, as you pressed a red plaid skirt to your hips, wondering if it would even cover half your ass.

“For the same reason. They are decently intelligent, cautious people in their business dealings, even if their behavior otherwise is questionable. Under different circumstances, they might have been potential operatives for the Museum. As it stands, their use is limited to a single outing.”

You followed Adriane to her laptop computer, as thick as a briefcase, sitting in front of her leather chair, with a video paused. Scattered on the desk were photos of Cipher and Gage, taken over the last few weeks, as evidenced by the changes in the color and style of their hair. They were photographed several times in rather compromising positions, not that they seemed to mind. Gage was always smiling brightly when her hand was shoved possessively in Cipher’s back pocket, and he was not shy about embracing her in a town square and kissing her with what you personally deemed to be an excess of tongue, with both his hands on her ass, peeking out of another too-short skirt. Frenzied moaning and the squeak of leather grabbed your attention and you looked up at the video Adriane played.

“This was just over an hour ago, in the back of the car we sent for them,” she informed, looking unimpressedly at the screen.

The parallels between you and Julian were not lost on you. Two people, outrageously in love, killing for a living. Except the pair rutting wildly in a limo were free to be out in the open, not concealing anything from anyone, while you could only look at Julian askance and steal brief moments when you were sure no one was looking, which was hardly ever.

“The girl has great stamina,” you quipped, averting your eyes discreetly. From their copious, almost defiant public displays of affection, you didn’t imagine either would be bothered to know a few people had watched some blurry, low resolution footage of their intercourse, but the aversion was for your sake, not letting the Museum make a voyeur out of you. It was enough they made you a ghost and a killer.

“You need to become Cipher and Gage for the duration of this Exhibition,” Adriane underscored. “They are ruthless, reckless, and passionate. Their reputation precedes them in Rostov’s inner circle.”

“We understand,” Mills assured, seeming to imply that even if you didn’t quite get it, he did.

Adriane came up to stand next to you and snatched the blue tinged, white rimmed sunglasses off your face, replacing them with a dark, edgy pair more in line with Gage’s confirmed style. “Rostov is a hedonist with wild delusions of grandeur. He will try to flirt with you, and his demands are known to go far,” she informed in a tone that signaled you were to go along with it, as far as necessary.

“I’m cool,” you shrugged, stomach twisting with disgust you were still not entirely able to suppress.

“He will likely flirt with you too, Julian,” Adriane said in the same demanding tone to him.

“Mh,” he grunted vaguely, shucking on a leather biker jacket and ruffling his hair, as he studied his reflection, deciding if it all came together just right for Cipher.

You barely contained a grin, thinking of this scrawny little man, twisted with perversion, trying to entice the architectural marvel that was Julian Mills.

A clink of metal on hard wood rang through the air. “Put these on.”

Julian made his way to Adriane’s desk first, picking up the two rings with discreet tracking devices installed inside. He deftly slipped the smaller one up to the knuckle of his ring finger and let the other one drop. You followed moments behind and picked up the ring off the desk. It gaped around your ring finger, looking too big even for your thumb.

“Doesn’t fit,” you dismissed, setting it down and pushing it towards Adriane.

“Let me,” Julian said lowly, his long, thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. He brought your hand up and twisted the ring off his finger, sliding it carefully over yours and inspecting his work when he was done. He seemed to approve of the way your hand looked adorned with his wedding ring.

He then picked the other ring up and set it in your hand, expecting you to put it on him.

“Do I have to love, honor and obey?” you looked up at him as he offered a waiting hand. His silence filled the air with crackling intensity and you fought with yourself not to look away.

“Just obey,” Adriane answered for him and brought the moment to an end. Without ceremony, you slipped the ring on Julian’s finger and turned away from both of them.

Obey, you scoffed inwardly. Love was easy. Honor, you conceivably could. The only demand they both had of you was the one you struggled with most.

“You leave in 15 minutes,” Adriane informed as dispassionately as ever.

Before you left, curiosity got the better of you. “You got all this information out of them… Which one cracked?”

“They both did, of course,” Adriane gave a serene, composed smile, assured in the Museum’s methods.

“So who got to go free?”

Adriane blinked and for a moment, you had the distinct sense a huge grin would slice across her face. A jeering, hideous one, mocking your naiveté. ��You should go get ready,” was all the reply she would give, and all the reply you needed.

As you descended in the gold-adorned elevator, on your way to the armory, Julian was quiet, looking at his panel and committing every detail of the plan, of Cipher and Gage’s history and activities, of intelligence on Rostov - all he could - to memory.

“Why was I chosen for this task?” you asked, choosing the opposite approach to Julian’s and clearing your mind before jumping into the task at hand.

He was silent as you descended for several levels and you started to assume he had not even registered your question. “It was an opportunity to improve your field mechanics,” he answered like a politician on the campaign trail.

Silence then followed from you. “Field mechanics,” you repeated, deeply unconvinced.

He turned and looked hard at you, pleading with you to hear what he was not allowed to say. “Adriane is under the impression that we are convincing as two people in love.”

It was not a compliment. The words had the cadence of a slur, and his tone of regret. It was not a good thing at all. He narrowed his eyes, satisfying himself that you took his meaning correctly.

The warm sunset, full of purples and oranges, gave way to a fine evening as you drove outside the city. As soon as you exited, you donned your masks as a precaution, wary of how far Rostov’s eyes reached. Yours was a white mask that extended into a crescent moon shape above your forehead and under your chin. Along its edges and around the eyes, the mask was outlined in silver and small stars twinkled along its face. Julian’s mask was white and gold, representing the sun, with five curvy rays creating an inverted pentagram around the smooth white face of the mask, adorned with golden arabesque designs. You looked at each other once the masks were on and the eerie blank canvass they presented, not knowing what face and expression they hid, was chilling.

You joined the scattered trail of other cars, uniformly black and armored, as they traveled noiselessly down a private road that would have been impossible to find without very specific instructions. The road was maintained to perfection, allowing you to glide smoothly down and weave its serpentines as they appeared without the slightest trouble. If not for the heady mix of trepidation and excitement that kept you wired and buzzing awake, you could have been lulled into a dreamlike sleep and sunk into the impenetrable darkness that surrounded you.

After stretching for what felt like an eternity, the road finally ended at a well-fortified gate, where you were ushered in and led up a lavishly landscaped path. A veritable army of masked guards stood sentinel all along the path, the entrance to a grand building and all the way to a sequestered area separated by gold stanchions and a red rope. Neither the host nor the guests wanted the security’s scrutiny while indulging in their hidden pleasures, a mistake that Julian and you were instructed to exploit. Behind unadorned gunmetal gray masks, the guards’ eyes followed every guest as they approached the rope forbidding entrance to the room beyond to all but a select few. There, you were instructed to shed your clothing and don party attire.

Rostov had purchased the magnificent château a few years back and it currently served as the crown jewel of his ostentatious tendencies and debauched proclivities. He restored it to its former glory, and had it outfitted with every modern comfort to boot, ensuring maximum pleasure and safety. It soon became the perfect place to host his monthly bacchanals, a pleasurable distraction from his usual activities of acquiring and testing biological weapons.

Invitations were handed out either to former collaborators who had displayed a keen sadistic and perverted streak, or to prospective talent, like Cipher and Gage, to ascertain if they possessed the requisite depravity of character to join in on Rostov’s activities unflinchingly. Masks and the privacy of the location guaranteed zero risk of discovery and damage to anyone’s reputation that would result from engaging in this sort of activity in a public venue.

With that in mind, you did not hesitate to disrobe. There was little to remove anyway and the mask served another useful purpose in making you bolder by hiding your face and whatever chagrined expression it might reveal. Julian watched, his eyes moving appreciatively behind his white and gold mask, as your skirt hit the floor and you removed your cropped top in one smooth movement. He waited, and at first you wondered why, but quickly surmised he meant to wait and have you undress him. You were proven right when he stepped into you as your last stitch of clothing came off and stood facing you, to shield you from any prying eyes. He did not put it beyond this rabble to be spying on guests as they changed. You slipped his trench coat off and, suddenly aware of your nakedness and his imposing proximity, made quick work of his shirt and pants, unzipping them roughly and making him flinch, before tugging them down just as harshly. Remembering your role, you chuckled, as though you had done it to tease him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, eager for the dress, as revealing as it was. Julian seemed unfazed by being completely naked in a large anteroom and offered the white halter neck satin dress for you to step into. The dress had a large slit in the side and flowed with every step, and the back was left entirely bare. It glided as smoothly as water up your body as he pulled it up and tied it at the base of your neck. He pressed his mask into your neck, in an approximation of a steadying kiss, and you felt the length of his body pressed into you, with the material of the dress dividing you leaving little to the imagination.

Julian’s attire was similarly revealing. A similar white material folded and tucked in around his hips, like the bottom half of a toga, and draped over his torso, cinched over one shoulder with a gold hoop and cascading down like a cape. He looked like an ancient marble statue, its perfection exaggerated by an impassioned artist in ardent love with his model, was brought to life.

The low thump of the music pulsed through the closed door as you neared it, and Julian brushed the bare skin of your lower back with his clever fingers as he claimed your waist, holding you close to his side as you ascended the steps and entered the party.

The renovated château was a blend of showy rococo and sleek modern styles. The dichotomy made for a luxurious experience, striking a balance between the lavish furnishings of the past and the present-day creature comforts, such as telephones, cameras, air conditioning, and modern mechanics. You followed a servant, distinguished by her plain gunmetal gray mask, into a spacious ballroom where the main activities were taking place. Heavy velvet curtains were drawn over the tall windows that lined the walls, keeping the lighting in the room low and atmospheric with only the dimmed chandeliers and scattered candelabras to set the mood. Dry ice created a mist swirling around the floor and ghosting around your steps. Erotic house music filtered in from the speakers embedded high above, and its thumping bass rattled in your bones as it provided a steady rhythm to rut to.

You passed sections of the ballroom, some divided by pillars and more heavy drapery, others raised on a dais, and each offered different activities. In some, more accessible areas, guests mingled and leaned masked faces close to exchange conversation and toasts, lifting only the bottoms of their masks to take quick sips. On a chaise longue, red and trimmed in gold, lay a man with his toga hiked up around his waist, straddled and vigorously ridden by a woman with nipple piercings connected by a series of chains and pendants, and her dark skin extensively tattooed. A small group of people, in various stages of undress gathered around them and commented on the participants and their activity.

You passed onto a higher level, leaving the couple behind you, and noticed that this area had raised platforms around one central viewing point. Each platform had two red leather sofas, one lower and one higher, permitting more positions and participants, surrounded by several waist-high columns. Each column held an object for members to use, either for pleasure or pain. You took in a few, including phallus-shaped implements, ball gags, riding crops, and pliers. In the viewing area, more of those comfortable chaise longues were laid out for those wishing to observe. Several platforms were currently occupied, but one drew your attention. A masked woman had her long legs wrapped around two men, one inside of her, the other inside of the man between them, and the three were being observed by a masked man in a black robe. He was one of Rostov’s inner circle, designated by his robe as untouchable – unless he asked to be – and irrefusable. His build was wrong; he was too young and too fit to be Rostov, so you moved on.

Sooner rather than later, you remembered as the stench of too many bodies fucking in an enclosed space hit your nostrils, you would have to engage in some activity yourself, lest your restraint draw unwanted attention. Even now, you felt appraising eyes land on you and Julian as you passed. You could not blame them. For all the young and attractive participants present, paid or drugged, who walked around and offered themselves like hors d’oeuvres to be sampled, they smacked of sex workers who were only doing a job. Some had the shaky, twitchy physique of junkies, while others had the used up bodies of veteran sex workers. You and Julian, by contrast, were trained by the Museum to be lethal, and having looks to kill was not a mere phrase where you came from. All those lessons in walking runways, learning classical dances, gymnastics, yoga, and the subtle art of erotica over the two years of your training made you both stand out in the most noteworthy way. Every step showed off your bodies, effortless grace and proud bearing; every brush of your fingers against Julian’s sculpted arm promised something more between you, and you felt eager eyes follow you, hoping to witness the moment you decided to take it farther.

The sounds of leather cracking and moans, quickly drowned out by delighted praise or mockery, led you into a large chamber, lined with ornate columns. A red carpet painted the floor red and several servants walked unobtrusively around with smoking censers, diffusing aphrodisiac scents around the cavernous chamber and perfuming the aroma of sex before it grew stale. In its center sat a long table, with a smorgasbord of men and women on top. From your vantage point, you could see two women with their heads between the other’s legs, one on her back, the other over her on her knees, both writhing and exaggerating their pleasure as their surgically enhanced breasts jiggled in one unmoving spot. Next to them were two handsome men on their sides, performing the same act and moaning deeply around the other’s shaft. In the middle was a piano bench with three women of widely varying ages in an embrace, busily alternating positions and acts. Around the table sat the more important attendees, watching, some stroking themselves or others under the table. The first woman you’d seen dressed in a black robe sat on the lap of a bony old man, his skin hanging like wet paper over his frame. She wriggled on his lap from his touch under her robes and pulled up a sleeve to offer her arm. He produced a syringe and injected her with a cloudy substance before resuming his ministrations. Julian walked by and caught the woman’s attention. She reached out for him and he extended her a hand, letting her pull him in close as she arched her back and spread herself across the table for him to sample. Julian loomed over her until she couldn’t wait anymore and tugged on his arm, splaying his large hand over her comparatively small breast, instructing him to knead at her chest. He did so, leaning closer over her so he could swipe the empty syringe from the floor and tuck it into the folds of his clothing. When he accomplished his task, he disengaged from the woman and you could see her roaming hand had found his way in between the folds of his toga and was trying to get in another one or two strokes as he retreated. As his partner, his wife, for the evening, you felt no need to disguise either your proprietary sense or your jealousy. Grabbing for his elbow, you jerked him towards you and spun him out of the way, positioning yourself between the woman in black and the object of both your desires. Too late it occurred to you that it could be huge mistake to challenge a high-ranking member. Your body spoke for itself, like a cat bristling and hissing, ready to claw out any eye that rested too long on Julian. You looked at her hand, suspended in midair as she considered demanding Julian back. With what relish you would break each and every finger, enjoying the snap of each knuckle. The flash in your eyes seemed to communicate this rather eloquently to the women and she turned back to the decrepit old man she was sitting on and threw her head back, her deranged laughter muffled behind her mask. The scene drew many masked faces to turn towards you and examine you with uncanny glittering eyes from behind impassive disguises. They had the eerie curiosity of carrion birds, waiting for their prey to become carcasses.

Julian drew you close, acting possessively, as if the fighting and territorial behavior was part of your foreplay. Grinding his hips into your backside, you felt him stiffen reflexively. His hands squeezed your hips and you threw your head back against his broad shoulder, letting him play out the scene and get you safely away. His hands roved up your body, following the contours of your waist and ribs. One hand slipped inside your dress and drew a lazy circle around the nipple, drawing it into a stiff peak and rolling it between his rough fingers. You let a shudder roll visibly through you and pressed your thighs theatrically together for the benefit of those savoring your reaction, creating some friction and relief. Julian’s other hand snaked up and coiled around your throat as he bent to whisper in your ear. “Fuck,” you heard a guttural grunt as he panted behind his mask, and his strained voice sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arched your back into him before you could think not to and his hips responded with a deep thrust as his stiffening cock sought some relief against the curve of your ass. “We should get out of here, he’s--” words failed him and he had to swallow hard before resuming, “he’s not here.”

As you straightened up, trying to find the closest exit point and make for it, one of the marauding sex workers, emboldened by whatever chemical cocktail she was on, made her way to you and placed one hand over the breast Julian wasn’t cupping, and the other around his neck, inviting herself into your company. Not worried about causing trouble due to her rank, you unceremoniously slapped her hand away from Julian, to delighted comments and encouragements from the throng watching on. She tottered like a toddler and you knew a single push could knock her down, and in her state, she likely wouldn’t even feel it. Still, she did not take the hint and tried to touch Julian again. His hand fell away from you and you caught her wrist, twisting only a little before she crumpled into the ground.

As you turned to leave, you nearly bumped into a woman, stripped to her waist, holding a young man’s wrists over an antique letter writing desk. Another woman, with sagging breasts that suggested breast feeding several children, bound in a leather harness, was whipping the youth across the back while an old man in black robes held his hips and frantically pumped. His legs were wiry and crooked and his gut was visibly round as he worked around the protruding flesh to stick his small member into the young man. You squeezed Julian’s thigh in question, as the gesture could be viewed as announcing your eagerness to join in. He wrapped his hand around yours and stilled you, signaling no. Rostov was scrawnier than this round-bellied man. But you were likely getting close.

Julian raised his masked head towards the upper levels of the chamber. All along the top floor were small viewing chambers, like opera boxes, and most of them held a member dressed in black, with a select guest, or guests, keeping them company. It was there he spied him.

Rostov, ever the attention seeker, was the only attendee with a mask made entirely of gold. Noticeably shorter than the naked woman accompanying him, he seemed to be watching Julian too. Without flinching or looking away, Julian stood and waited for a few beats. Finally, Rostov seemed to make up his mind and with a quick summoning gesture, a servant materialized next to you and asked you to join the host on the uppermost level.

As you were led along the balustrade to Rostov, you saw peep show-like personal rooms with acts going on in glass cages. These seemed to be one per box and, anticipating that you were brought here to perform rather than talk, you were grateful you wouldn’t be ogled by a multitude of criminals. Just one.

In one box, there was a woman in thigh-high boots and a collar around her neck, with a leash leading to some unseen master, bound to a velvet-cushioned chair. The viewer was issuing commands on what was to be done to her and you tried not to listen as you passed that box and approached another. In the glass box, a throuple was enjoying hot wax and blindfolds. At Rostov’s box, you saw a naked man wipe himself down as he exited and a pair of servants untied the woman and helped her out of a harness. The truncated scene confirmed what Julian had shared about Rostov and his penchant for more dominant men and submissive women. Gage’s impish and dominant behavior was a departure from that, so you made sure to remember not to play a meek, passive role.

The small man, hardly larger than a child, wore a golden mask that was reminiscent of hannya masks from Japanese theater, with large eyes, and a twisted grimace with a gaping mouth, revealing sharp teeth. Rostov examined Julian first, holding his large hand in his two small ones, looking at the golden band on his ring finger. He gave yours a glance to confirm he had it right, and let Julian’s hand go. As if examining a thoroughbred, he ran his hands over Julian’s thickly muscled chest, the marvelously sculpted ridges and valleys of his arms.

“You hold Gage so close, so very close,” Rostov said in a thick accent and sighed. “I can see why.” He ran a finger over your mask, down its smooth, cool cheek, and lower still, dragging his small hand flat down your chest, down the valley between your breasts. Julian shifted his weight and his chest involuntarily puffed up, making Rostov huff a small laugh.

He walked a few small steps away, into his box, and Julian surmised he should follow. When Rostov lounged on the divan, Julian did the same, and they were at last on the same plane.

“From the moment you two walked in, I had one single thought.” He waited until Julian leaned in closer, tacitly asking for an answer. “I want to fuck your wife,” he stage-whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear. “This is a family, Cipher,” Rostov placed a proprietary hand on the back of his neck, pulling him intimately in. Without the masks, they would have been a hair away from kissing. Julian heard Rostov’s labored breath behind his mask and was sure the man was hard to bursting, though his proportions were such that robes successfully hid on his body what they could never hope to hide on Julian. The man’s eyes devoured him, taking in his body greedily, lust shining in his beady eyes. “We do everything as a unit,” he coaxed.

Julian did not blink. He was playing the role of a man who did not share the woman he loved, and it came naturally to him. Both he and Cipher were the sort to risk powerful people’s displeasure for what they truly wanted. He observed his host, aware of his own intensely masculine appeal and let the man’s desire win out, breaking his determination and making him willing to negotiate.

“Bah,” the little man waved a frustrated hand, “I can see that your wife is not the sharing sort – for a moment there, I was worried she would break my wife’s arm when she was playing with you. And you can imagine the sort of pain in the ass she would be then,” Rostov laughed and phlegm rattled in his lungs. “I’m saddened to see you have the same sick notions of fidelity.” He sighed again and shook his head. “I’ll satisfy myself with watching you this first time, then.” With the matter decided in his mind, Rostov rolled away from him, and servants came in to escort you and Julian inside the glass box, while the pair that was in it before you came back and fell into an embrace with their host.

@thegrislady @lumberjack00fantasies @queeniebee @vedavan @mythrielofsolitude @house-of-cadwyn

#commander mills x you #commander mills x reader #assassin au

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sroloc--elbisivni · 10 months

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Bunnyguard master post

July 1, 2023: in the spirit of shameless self-promotion here's a collective post for the Usagi Yojimbo/Rottmnt fusion Leosagi fic series I've been working on this year. somewhat celebratory because 1. I'm very excited to have hit the halfway mark on this project 2. my birthday is later this month and I can do a little treat for myself if I want 3. it's my first day off in ages and I can spend my time luxuriantly and frivolously. Prompts taken from Year of the OTP; titles from Richard Siken "Litany in which certain things are crossed out."

Post last updated December 22, 2023

Bunnyguard verse premise in three bullet points:

The cast of Usagi Yojimbo are embedded in the Hidden City

Draxum helped raised the turtles

Usagi gets hired as a bodyguard for Leo a month after the Krang invasion

January - "missionfic" - something other than the desperation Usagi does his best to not embarrass himself while Leo tries to do the same and fails. (the hero shifts from one foot to the other)

February - "mermaid au" - no one will ever want to sleep with you A first meeting sparks a series of increasingly dumb and desperate decisions. (the repeated image of the lover destroyed)

March - "mutual pining" - your heart, and it is painted shut We skip ahead in the timeline to the point where Usagi has decided he's going to just quietly pine forever and Leo stops for five seconds of self-examination and immediately starts planning his wedding. (the same big and little words, all spelling out desire)

April - "No, I'm not dating your brother" - There is something underneath the floorboards After a series of shenanigans, (some of) Usagi's misconceptions are corrected and Leo eventually gets a full night's sleep. (bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing)

May - "accidental pet/child acquisition" - Quit milling around the yard and come inside Usagi uses his day off to be with his family, including his son, and Leo takes a turn being the babysitter instead of the babysat. (Inside your head you hear a phone ringing.)

June - "you're not what I expected" - These terms from the lower depths After being chased by a demon, Leo and Usagi end up in the bones of both of their pasts, one after the other. (I have told you where I'm coming from, so put it together.)

July - "enemies to lovers" - recently we have had our difficulties Leo screws up, Usagi gets hurt, and they have to work together to fix it. (the moment of epiphany, in gold light)

August - "au of your choice" (free space) - close enough to see the blue rings Usagi fights a dragon and Leo has a bunch of minor problems happen all at once. (But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats)

September - "hurt/comfort" - Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? An unexpected attack forces everyone involved to reexamine their circumstances. (Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere)

October - "identity shenanigans" - I guess I can tell you that now. Our heroes go on a date to a mob warehouse and find out things that were not exactly secrets but definitely unknown. (I walk through your dreams and invent the future)

November - "be careful what you wish for" - You want a better story. Who wouldn't? A confrontation, a choice, a number of things undone. (It should mean laughter, not poison.)

December - "forgiveness" - so maybe I wanted to give you something Our heroes reckon with their actions, and choose to try again. (I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.)

#bunnyguard #here we go :3 #turtles #usagi yojimbo #leosagi #fic talk #updated through september

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chaotic-on-main · 8 months

Note

Sky, first of all, let me congratulate you on reaching 250 followers! You are an absolute star and seeing all your fantastic accomplishments is a sight to behold!💖💖😊 Second, I think I would like a matcha green tea with kitchen sink from the ice cream truck please! Specifically, kitty acquisition!🐈😻 Thank you so very much and keep being awesome! :)

Order up!! One matcha green tea with everything but the kitchen sink for Cas!!

Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event!

☾ Pairing ➼ Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ modernAU, alluded animal abuse (very very little!), cat dad!Levi, kitty adoption, fluff, established relationship

☾ A/N ➼ Hi Cas!! Thank you so much for sending this request in, it's so cute!! The kitty acquisition line is so funny even tho it took me ages to understand what you meant (my fault). Just imagining him being soft to animals that need love?? UGH I WANT HIM. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! 💕 (Also I hope you're hanging in there still! Tropical storms are so scary and I'm sending you all the best wishes and vibes your way)

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.9k

Levi is always really good at keeping surprises from you. No amount of pestering nor poking would make him relent his deepest darkest secrets. Even when you pulled the birthday card and asked for even the smallest of hints, he didn’t budge.

You suppose that wasn’t the worst thing, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t the littlest peeved at it even though you knew it would benefit you in the long run.

So, when Levi blindfolded you the moment you both buckled into his car for the afternoon, you can’t help but sigh heavily. He told you to dress casually and you both skipped lunch, so you knew he was taking you out to eat.

Why he wouldn’t show you where he was taking you though was beyond you. You knew this town like the back of your hand so where could he even take you that you wouldn't know?

“Levi, you’ve kept me on my toes for a whole month. At least tell me something about it?” You whine. The speakers around you play the shared playlist you and Levi had made together in an effort to stop fighting over who got the music that day – the rule being each artist would get 5 songs each. You managed to swing 10 for a couple artists, which of course was met with an eye roll.

“You’ve waited one month. What’s another 15 minutes?” He grumbles next to you. You feel his hand sit on your thigh and squeeze your flesh gently.

“Just one teeny-tiny smidgen?”

“Fine. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said one small thing. That’s all you get.” There’s a hint of a smirk in his voice, which only makes you huff quietly.

There are a few turns and stops here and there but eventually, you feel the car slow to a stop before hearing Levi moving the gear stick into park. He turns the car off, the jingling of keys filling up the now empty space.

"Are you ready?" He asks off to the side.

"Yes!" Then you feel his long fingers hooking into the blindfold and tugging up and out of your eyes then over your head.

It takes a few hard blinks before your vision can make sense of the brightness around you. At first you notice you’re in front of some sort of shopping center. Upon further investigation, you’re in front of a café.

There are big, wide glass windows on the entire exterior wall, littered with various paw prints and cat vinyl stickers. On one of the windows reads ‘Whiskers Perch’ with a cat paw holding up a steaming mug of something. Your first thought is it’s a cat themed café but then your eyes snap to movement right below the name – it’s a tabby cat doing the biggest stretch known to man.

This isn’t just a cat themed café.

This is a cat café.

And Levi took you here for your birthday because you’ve always wanted to visit one of these.

“Oh my, Levi..” Your voice trails off as you look over to your boyfriend of many years. He’s eyeing you cautiously as he gauges your reaction. You give him a wide smile and lean over to kiss him on the cheek softly.

“This is the best thing ever! I see why you wanted to wait to show me.” You can’t hold back the squeal that comes out as you unbuckle yourself from the seat. Levi softly huffs in amusement next to you as he does the same.

When you and Levi walk in, you’re met immediately by a hostess wearing a long apron and cute pink top. She smiles at you both as she looks up from the pad in her hand.

“Hi! Welcome! What name is your reservation under?” Her pretty eyes bounce between the two of you.

“Ackerman.” Levi says. The hostess’ eyes trail down her pad before releasing a small ‘ah!’ and marking something down.

“Great, looks like you booked for an hour and fifteen. Follow me this way!” She chirps as she sits the pad down on the wooden podium.

As the hostess leads you to your reserved spot, you don’t hesitate to ogle at everything around you. The café is quite large, which you wouldn’t have guessed from just the outside alone. There’s one central lobby where cats freely roam – either sleeping on the many towers or playing with each other and the miscellaneous toys lying about. You don’t spot the patrons right away but as you move further in, you notice there are semi-enclosed rooms lining the outer walls.

Each room has an archway as an entrance, kept wide open so that cats and patrons can come and go, and above each door is a number – the max going to 24. Most of the booths are filled with multiple people, all eating and drinking with cats lingering around them. The best thing about the little enclosed alcoves was that the noise level is minimum.

She takes you to an alcove off to the left, labeled number 8.

“Your waiter will be with you momentarily. Please take a few minutes to read through the rules if you haven’t already.” She smiles widely at the two of you as you settle in before taking off back to the front.

There are a couple small menus in front of you and you reach over to pick them up. One is a menu for food and drinks and the other is a rules list.

1. Be gentle – no tugging or pulling.

2. No loud noises.

3. Do not pick up the cats – let them come to you.

4. Do not share the food/drinks with the cats.

5. Cats are cats, we are not held liable for any damage they may cause you.

6. If there’s any emergency, do not hesitate to alert a team member.

7. Feel free to take pictures and have fun!

8. Some cats may be up for adoption – please ask a team member if you might be interested.

A lot of these rules are common sense, though you can't blame them for reiterating them for those who need it. The last rule catches your eye and you find yourself flicking your gaze up and over the menu to Levi. He’s busy looking at the drink menu and pays you no mind. Is this why he said this was a bad idea?

“Are there any teas you want to try?” Levi asks over to you, his eyes still glued to the laminated menu in his hands.

“You’re the tea connoisseur, I trust you.” You shrug your shoulders as your eyes graze the menu in front of you. The teas had fancy names with their blends underneath and truth be told, it was all a little overwhelming. Best to leave it to Levi, you think. But the food…

Your waiter comes by a few moments later to take the orders, dropping off a teapot and a couple of cups right after. As Levi stirs the leaves around, you take this chance to stare out to the lobby. There are a myriad of cats running about but none paying much mind – except for a small jet black one sitting high in one of the cat towers.

Bright yellow eyes stare into yours from far away. You can’t see much of him as he’s tucked in high, but from what you can see, there are a few nicks in his ears and his face is quite round. Besides his eyes, everything is dark – like a black void. He only sits and stares at the two of you, despite you trying to coax him to come closer.

“Levi, I think this one is plotting our murder.” You mutter, pointing towards the dark void.

“Well, it is a cat. That’s just how they are.” Levi says back jokingly. Satisfied with the steeping time, he pours a dark red liquid into the cups before sliding yours over to you so you can make it up as you like with the ingredients offered. Levi leans back with his cup in hand, the way he always does, and takes a careful sip as he eyes you doing the same.

The flavor is wonderful, and you can’t even begin to categorize the different notes. It’s sweet and floral, almost earthy in tones – with a light spice. Levi always knew how to pick a good tea. You lean back in your seat and sigh in content.

“This is good.” You say finally, setting the cup and saucer back down on to the table with a clink.

“It’s not half bad.”

“Not half bad? That’s some high praise from Levi Ackerman.” You joke, raising an eyebrow at him.

Suddenly there’s a shift in weight on your booth as a large short-haired orange cat leaps onto it. It’s tan striped with a few white spots across his face. Wide hazel eyes stare up at you.

Mrrooww!

“Oh look at you!” You coo down as you place your hand on his head and start scratching. His fur is soft and you feel his body vibrating under you as he purrs loudly. Trailing your fingers down his red collar, you pinch the tag between two fingers and lean down for a closer look.

“Milo huh? You are such a cuties.” You whisper down to him. He lets you pet his back a couple more times before circling around and lying down next to you. His eyes are closed instantly, deciding this is his new napping spot. You place your hand on his soft belly and pet it, eliciting more purrs.

You and Levi fill the time before the food came with talks of what you’d like to do that evening. As cats came for face rubs and left with happy purrs, you ultimately decide you want to stay home and make dinner together then maybe settle in with a movie. Levi, of course, agreed easily as he was not one who liked to be out at night anyways – but he was always willing if you wanted it. The idea of going out for your birthday became less appealing as the years came and went. Well, with the exception of the cat café, of course.

The next time your eyes survey the lobby is after the waiter comes by to pick the empty plates in front of you. You immediately spot the same black cat from earlier. He’s much closer this time, sitting back on his hind legs with his front paws barely passing through the arch. Those electric eyes stare up but not at you. They’re staring straight at Levi, who stops talking to look over once he realizes your attention is no longer on the conversation.

“Levi, I think the murder he’s plotting is yours.” You say quietly. An attempt to ‘pspsps’ is made but to no avail. Not even a glance is thrown your way. The cat slowly blinks before standing up on all fours and leaving.

“If I go missing, you’ll know it was him.” Levi says back dryly.

You snort at that as your hands reach down under the table to pet the long white fur belonging to a Himalayan cat that had laid claim to your lap halfway through your meal. You don’t fight the urge to boop the soft pink nose of your new friend. A baby blue eye cracks open at you from the sudden touch but she just curls up even more on your legs, stretching her paws out to show you matching soft pink beans.

“How much time do we have left, do you think?” You ask Levi as you look up at him. He’s watching you intently with those dark eyes of his and there’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he does.

“About another 20 minutes.” He glances at his phone screen to check the time. You peep the screen and notice his background is a picture of you sitting on the central fountain in your town’s square, mid-laugh as you try hide from the camera. It was taken a few weeks ago and you wonder how long he’s had it like that. It’s intriguing considering he always kept the original images that came with the phone upon first purchasing it, but you don’t press.

There’s a soft ding to the right of you and when you look down, you see that the black cat is back – this time with a small silver toy in his mouth. It seems to be a bell attached to a string. In a swift motion, he jumps up to Levi’s booth and sets it down next to Levi before sitting back on his haunches and staring up into Levi’s startled eyes.

This is the first cat to approach Levi the entire time you have been there. And he was brought a gift no less. You find yourself quietly giggling at the sight and don’t hesitate to snap a picture of their stare off.

mew

The quiet mewl he makes melts your heart immediately.

“He brought you dinner.” You say softly.

“She, actually.” The waiter that had left with the check earlier is back now, setting the black book and pen down in front of Levi. “She’s unusually quiet for her breed, so it’s nice to see her so open with a patron. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Levi grumbles, taking the pen and signing the merchant receipt in his neat handwriting.

“Can I ask what kind of cat she is? And what happened to her?” You eye the nicks in her ears. There are a few chunks taken out, all fully healed.

“She’s a rescue. Before coming here, she was locked in a cage at all times. You see, she’s a bombay so you can imagine what they held her for. They’re quite rare.” The waiter says sadly. They perk up quickly though, and smiles over to Levi. “But she’s really taken a liking to you.”

Levi carefully reaches over and his hand hovers over her head in hesitation. She initially pulls back and you can see the gears in her head rolling as she considers Levi. She opts to sniff his hand and that’s it.

They do look good together, you think.

“Can I ask- is she up for adoption?” Levi’s eyes snap to yours.

“We don’t have room for a cat right now.” He mutters quietly.

“Shush.” You wave your hand at him before turning your attention back to the waiter.

“She is! Would like me to get the paperwork?”

“Now hold on a minute-“

“Levi, look how much she likes you!” You stretch your arms out to the black cat who had not moved a muscle during this whole interaction. Yellow eyes blink slowly up at Levi.

“That doesn’t refute the fact that we barely have the space nor time to take care of her.”

“We’ll make room. Besides, I work from home so I can keep an eye on her!”

Levi says your name with exasperation, narrowing his gaze at you.

“She needs a home.” You say, and even more quietly, “Plus, it’s my birthday.”

“You’re impossible.” He grumbles before turning his attention back to black cat next to him. There’s no collar around her neck. “What’s her name?” He asks, looking up to the waiter.

“She never came with one nor did she answer to one.” The waiter purses his lips.

“Would you like to come home with us?” Levi asks gently to the cat. You swear you see her round eyes widen as another quiet mewl escapes her. His expression has softened considerably and the tone he uses makes your heart jump. It's all laced with adoration. Slowly raising your phone up, you take another photo.

Levi straightens up and clears his throat before raking his fingers through his hair as he thinks. His eyes slide over to you, almost as if he was checking one more time if this is really what you want. You give him two thumbs up.

“Fine, bring me the paperwork.”

Half an hour later, the adoption papers were official and you are both sitting in his car, the silence almost deafening. Your new family member curls up in the carrier that was provided to you to take, and you turn around in your seat to watch her sleep.

“Are you mad?” You whisper over to Levi.

“No.” Levi turns the keys, the car rumbling to life right away.

“Are you sure?” You bite your lip nervously.

“Yes, I’m not mad. Just-“ He looks over to you. “This is our first pet together. I’m…”

“Levi, are you nervous?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.” Levi grips the steering wheel and puts the gear in reverse. He checks the rearview mirror for any oncoming traffic, his gaze dipping down to the black cat in the backseat.

“You’re going to be a great cat dad, Levi.” You smile over at him. He just sighs softly as he pulls out of the parking spot, eyes alert to anything that might come in his blindspots.

“We’ll see. Have you thought of a name?”

“I was thinking Bleptholomew.” You say back with confidence.

“Absolutely fucking not.” He says quickly, eyes cutting over to you from the mirror. “Besides, that sounds like a boy's name.”

“Pft, cats can be named anything. They don’t believe in gendered names.” You cross your arms over your chest with a fake pout.

“Anything else?”

“Frankie?”

As Levi drives out of the parking lot and into the busy street, he reaches over and gives your thigh a squeeze.

“Frankie it is.”

#sky's summer event #hehe kitty acquisition #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x gn!reader #levi x gn!reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #fluff #cat dad!levi #modern au #asks #answered

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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years

Text

Title: Star-Crossed: #HFT {1}****

Professor Chris Evans x OFC University Student Calliope “Cali” Jamison AU

Warning: NSFW, Cursing, 18+ Content, PLENTY OF WORDS, Plot,

Word Count: 12.2k

Synopsis: Look out for it in chapters 3 or 7.

Note: Another one because I can't stop thinking about this idea. I have been sitting on this for MONTHS because I wanted to wait until I wrapped some things up BUT life is short and I wanna share this. I have been thinking about this trope a lot. I am in no way condoning teacher-student relationships especially if said student is a minor and/or not of sound mind. However, I am a lot more open to a college professor-college student relationship. I prefer this trope to any in its subgenre/sub-trope even though it may not be ethically proper, depending on the debate you listen to. That being said I’ve wanted to tackle this idea of mine for some time and dipped my toes in with “Anatomy 101” which I wanted to expand on some time in the future. Now, I am going to remix and expand on this professor-student trope. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Note II: Included is some Moroccan Arabic/Arabic in general. The translations are provided by Google.com. If the translation is incorrect, I apologize, please don’t hold it against me. Feel free to correct me, I don’t mind.

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging. I appreciate it!!!!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!

****Characters in this Fiction Story are of legal age, sound mind, and are consenting through no dubious means. ****

**NOT Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derived from but not really a continuation: Anatomy 101

Chapter One: Desert Rose

“Cali, try not to wander too far tonight.”

You looked in the mirror at your father who was rustling through a folder of papers on his right while an ancient-looking book rested in front of him. It was his latest acquisition on yet another one of his excursions. His face never looked up from the papers. It was classic for her father, the man who was able to do ten things at once with two eyes, and two hands. Sometimes you thought his brain was a super machine that none other could rival. He always amazed you. Not just with his intellect or aptitude in his field but with his passion for what he did and how he lived his life.

It was him who instilled in you the desire to travel and find the answers to the world and humanity through travel, languages, literature, and love. He believed we were all connected through those three things and through those things could we better understand each other. He and these trips were probably the reasons you’d decided to transfer colleges and switch majors while tacking on a few more for good measure. If any little girl ever felt like their father was their hero, you were that little girl. He was yours.

He looked to you, and you took in his appearance with his glasses lodge on his nose bridge and his forehead crinkled from deep thinking. He was no longer a young man, but the years had been kind to him—very kind.

“Understood young lady?”

You rolled your eyes at his faux authoritative tone then sighed, “Dad, I’m twenty-two. I think the days of me being a young lady are long gone.”

“Twenty-one. Your birthday hasn’t come yet. We still have three months.”

“Two months and twenty-nine days, thank you,” you corrected.

He scoffed then shook his head. “You have your whole life to get old Calliope. Don’t rush it. One day you will be my age thinking where the time went.”

“I can take that as long as I am exactly where you are in your career,” you replied.

He smiled and put the papers in his hand down. “As long as you remember career isn’t everything. Living is most important.”

You thought about his words for a moment then continued applying your lip color. A silence that stuck for a few minutes befell the room. Once you were satisfied with your bold makeup application, you stood.

“Where are you off to tonight?”

“There is this lounge I wanted to check out before we left. It’s supposed to be real chill.”

“Ah, a lounge. All right, just remember our flight is tomorrow at five, and you cannot be late,” your father drilled.

“I know dad. I won’t be late.”

You readjusted your dress, smoothing your palms over the thin creases your sitting had created, then walked to your purse. Beside it, the vase of vibrant colored hibiscus flowers caught your eye. You traced your fingers along a delicate petal and plucked a red one out of the mass to arrange in your hair just behind your ear. Pleased with how it complimented your dress and the exotic look it gave you, you nodded to your reflection. When you got to your father you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t work all night dad. It’s our last night here. Who knows when you’ll be back. Take some time to smell the desert air.”

He sighed and looked up and through the panoramic window before him. No doubt the desert was calling his name.

“Don’t wait up,” you whispered before you scurried to the door.

“Don’t drink too much,” he called out just as you closed the door behind you.

You planned on drinking too much, taking part in some of the unspoken draws of Morocco, and dancing until your feet hurt. This was your last night of fun before the next chaotic and rigorous stage of your life began. You didn’t expect to have any free time to accompany your father on his work trips for the foreseeable future. As you waited for the elevator to open into the lobby of your hotel you took a quick selfie with the gold backdrop of the elevator wall. That and the warm lighting only enhanced your look.

By the time the elevator opened, you’d posted your selfie with a simple caption of red-painted kissy lips and a hibiscus flower. Less was more after all. As you walked across the lobby, you felt eyes flit toward you. You received several head nods and pleasing smiles that said the look was much appreciated.

“Can I get you a car ma’am?”

One of the hotel valets stood outside in his red and gold uniform waiting for your reply.

“How far from here is Shaida?”

“Hm, maybe a fifteen-minute walk or a five to eight-minute car ride.”

You weighed your options while looking up and down the street. The night was beautiful, the weather divine, and part of you wanted to take it all in.

“If I may ma’am, I suggest a car. After a two-minute walk, the heat will make it impossible to not sweat.”

You smirked then shrugged. “You might be right. Thank you.”

He stretched his arm out and seconds later a black car pulled up with one of the hotel’s drivers behind the wheel. The valet opened the backdoor for you then waited as you climbed in.

“Enjoy your evening ma’am.”

You thanked him just as the car pulled off. Settling into the seat you kept your eyes glued to the views that passed the window. Morocco was a favorite destination for you. This was your eighth time coming and each time still felt new to you. The truth was, Morocco held a special place in your heart, it was the land of your maternal side. Your father had met your mother twenty-seven years ago while he was fresh out of grad school while studying for his doctorate. He’d always said she opened him up to a whole different view on life. It was a view that influenced everything he did after meeting her whether it was professional or personal.

The savory scent of street foods cooking all around you made you moan and your stomach rumble, but you ignored it not wanting to get sidetracked. Only a few minutes passed, and the driver was pulling up to the entrance of the lounge. From the looks of the street, it didn’t look like it was a well-known place because it was so nestled off of the beaten path, but you didn’t care. After thanking the driver, you stepped onto the sidewalk and walked the few remaining feet to the door. Standing outside was a man dressed in street clothes with a makeshift bandana wrapped around his head. He looked you over once then averted his eyes back to scoping out the street.

Once you stepped inside you realized that the exterior looks were deceiving. It was a full house. The heady scent of flowers, incense, smoke, and a mixture of snacks hit you like a train and you immediately felt transported to a different time in history. The hypnotizing sounds of an Arabian Flute and the Bendir played cohesively together to make you feel like could have been transported back to the time of King Idriss of the Idrisid Dynasty.

As you walked through, you scoped it out impressed by the sultry red décor that screamed both royalty and sin and taken aback by how smoky the place was. It didn’t take long for you to feel as if you’d made the right choice for the night. Finding a place at the bar you sat and adjusted to the vibes of the establishment getting lost in the music. You understood now who the man outside was, he was a scout. This was one of the few places one could come and enjoy Morocco with a touch of both modern and ancient. A man passed you puffing from a tube and from the scent of the smoke you knew the risk this place was taking. Hash.

“You have the distinct look of both a tourist and a local.”

You spun around to the woman behind the bar whose curly hair must have been the envy of everyone she knew. She had a mischievous smile that only highlighted her kind eyes.

“I guess I can be classified as somewhat of both,” you said.

The woman took you in a bit longer, fully assessing you.

“Ah, I see. Our blood flows through you but you are American.”

You smiled and nodded.

“In that case welcome. Blood is what matters here.”

She took a glass down and poured a clear liquid into a glass then placed it in front of you.

“What is this?”

She didn’t look as if she were going to answer so you did the only hospitable thing—knocked it back. Instantly, you knew what it was, Mahia. This was your traditional welcome.

“Mm, thank you.”

She nodded. “So, tell me, are you here for business or pleasure?”

“Me? Well, the business is done so I’m all about the pleasure.”

The bartender smiled widely and refilled your glass. “Then you have come to the right place. We have drink, music, dancing, snacks if you choose, and—substances.” She nodded to a passing woman who was also puffing from a tube.

“Let’s start with the first three and see where the night takes me.”

She smacked the bar, “I like you.”

She walked off to tend to another customer and your eyes followed and watched her pour another man a drink. Just behind her, you caught sight of a man who seemed out of place but also looked like he belonged. The glass in his hand was almost empty and the way he held it said a lot about him. Where everyone else would hold it fully, with the palms of their hands, he held it with just his fingertips. Nine out of ten people at a bar would hold the glass in the middle, he held it closer to the rim and the icing on top was him holding it with his pointer out instead of his pinky.

You’d been around a lot of men in your life -thanks to your father and his line of work- that you’d taken a large interest in your own life experiences, and you’d come across them all. Men who were meek and soft-spoken because they never fully asserted themselves and preferred for things and people to come to them. Men who were boisterous and presumptuous and assumed everything was meant for them and attempted to claim it all regardless of what anyone else said. Men who were easily overlooked because of their non-threatening disposition, and even men who were hard to miss because of their titillating mix of all of the above.

From the way he held his glass, to the way he sat on the battered wooden stool you could tell there was something different about him. You didn’t know what yet. You watched as he drained the glass, placed it on the bar then tapped the rim while making eye contact with the soulful-eyed lady bartender. She topped off his glass without a word then busied herself with the patrons around her. With the glass firmly between his fingers again he took another long sip while his eyes remained glued to his phone. Your curiosity piqued as an urge to know what he was doing overtook you and you got lost thinking of all the possibilities.

Heavy Arabic speaking drew your attention to your right. When you turned, an attractive man with deep-set brown eyes, a full goatee, and a man bun of lustrous locks. He looked like a blend of an old-fashioned but modern local. His full lips moved again.

“Aljamal almahaliyu.” {Local beauty?}

You smiled. You’d always found the Arabic language beautiful.

“American?” He lifted his brow as a look of uncertainty filled his features.

You snorted and took a sip from your glass.

“Aljamal almahaliyu wulid fi 'amrika,” you replied. {Local beauty born in America.}

The man smiled widely as surprise and satisfaction filled his eyes.

“Your Arabic is very good,” he complimented in damn near perfect English. The only thing that gave him away was his heavy accent.

“And your English is quite good.”

He held out his hand to you, “Deladim.”

You shook his hand.

“Cal.”

The softness of his hands contradicted the ruggedness of his outfit. His clothes said he could have been an explorer, but his hands said he was a masseuse. “Interesting name,” you followed up.

“Well, my full name is Abdeladim, but Deladim is what my friends call me, and Dim is what my lovers call me.”

His words were like a lite tap against your cheek out of the blue, shocking.

“Wow.”

Every time you’d come to Morrocco with your father, you’d been approached by plenty of smooth-talking locals who all thought they could snag an American for the night for their stories with their buddies. You never fell for it.

“Very bold of you.”

You turned your body back to the bar and continued nursing your drink as Deladim continued to give you his best lines. By the fourth line, your eyes slipped to your left to find the same man from before now watching you. His drink was ever present in his hand, but the screen of his phone was now dark. You had his undivided attention. There was something in the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made you feel like he darted an electric current right through you. Your skin tingled and that slight curiosity about his reading preferences had not transitioned into full-blown wonder over who this man was.

You didn’t know how long you’d stared at each other, but he was the one to look away first and when he did his luminescent blue orbs went right back into his phone. Before he lifted it to his face you glimpsed words. Was he reading a book in a bar?

“Took care of it,” the lady bartender said before you as she nudged her head to your right.

The seat beside you that was filled a short while ago, was now empty.

“A blind man could tell you weren’t interested,” she filled in.

You smiled, raised your glass to her, and took a mouthful of the strong liquid.

A short while later and a handful of drinks, you’d drifted over to the lounging area of the business where men were smoking and chatting up a storm, mellowing out to the soft sounds of Moroccan wooden instruments. The smoke in the air only heightened the hedonistic vibes of your surroundings and you didn’t mind one bit. Feeling like wanting to take a walk on the wild side for your last night in town, you decided to partake. After a blend recommendation from the bartender, you got comfortable in a slightly secluded corner that was draped in red silk and shadows and lit up the hookah contraption. This was by no means your first recreational excursion.

Upon your first inhale, you moaned gratefully for the choice. Its aroma was similar to flowers but there were hints of fruit and smoked nuts but those did not distract from the strength of the drug itself. You leaned back, closed your eyes, and let everything that you’d been worried about earlier drift away. Nothing mattered, not the looming start date of your third year of college, not the stress of moving from one top tier university to another top tier university in the middle of your degree program, not the double stress of changing said degree program and adding two more on for a full-on double major with double concentrations. You knew the next two years would be your most rigorous and though you’d never admitted it out loud, you were slightly worried you wouldn’t be able to pull it all together.

A few more puffs and your mind was as empty as your glass. Across from you, your eyes met the stranger from earlier, and again his eyes were on you. Under this light and in this atmosphere, you itched to touch him. Seconds away from blurting a likely thirsty comment, you bit your bottom lip hoping that would stop the words. It barely worked; the urge remained.

“You look like you have something to say,” he said.

You instinctively turned to look behind you, but only came face to face with the wall. When you looked back at him, he smirked, lifted his glass then took a puff from his own hookah-like contraption. When he blew out you watched the smoke drift up in a hypnotizing swirl-like spiral. This wasn’t his first recreational excursion either.

“Cat got your tongue?”

His eyes met yours again while you sat there dumbfounded.

“Feeling jealous about it? Would you rather have my tongue instead?”

His smile was wider and again that spiral of smoke escaped. “I don’t know how easy you think I am, but I’m not that kind of man.”

You snorted then giggled unable to keep it in. He sounded like one of those women who used that as a defense to throw the man they were interested in off the fact that they really were that kind of woman -a liberated woman who never needed to make excuses for her behavior and was damn proud of it- but they didn’t want them to know that.

“Then what kind of man are you?”

He didn’t answer right away. He sat there watching you. His eyes roamed over you in the sultriest way, in a way that no others had traveled you. A small flame lit at the nape of your spine that made you sit up even more. Your body was on full alert for something impending, something that would change your life. Was it him?

After a long pause, he spoke, “You’re welcome to find out on one condition.”

Interested, you took a long drag from the tube and slowly swallowed before making an “o” with your mouth to huff out the smoke in a series of o shapes. He softly smiled before sipping his drink.

“What condition?”

His smile stretched. “You have to throw in some Arabic here and there.”

You smiled and that small flame at your spine went up a notch in intensity and location. You patted the seat beside you and waited to see his move. It didn’t take long for him to stand and walk over with his hookah contraption and drink in his hands. The closer he got to you, the more you could make out his outfit. The black appearing jeans he wore had rips at the knees and gave the peekaboo effect showing off his flesh and outlining what looked like slim but strong thighs.

As your eyes raked up his body, the semi-tight white shirt he wore gave you an idea that he either had a six or eight pack and that was when your teeth sank into your bottom lip. He placed the hookah down beside yours then sat in the seat that you’d patted seconds ago. The rush of air gave you your first whiff of him. He smelled like the incense that was currently surrounding you but also musky scents that were so similar to cedar or hickory and a touch of sweetness. It was completely masculine, completely unique to him with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, something different.

“How did you know I was speaking Arabic?”

He smiled, leaned forward, and took another long drag from the Hookah. As he blew the smoke out, he looked at you. “I know and can recognize tens of languages.”

“Do you speak it?”

He shuffled his head then shrugged, “Conversationally. I’m by no means a local beauty.”

You smiled hearing him tease you with what the man from before had called you.

“Cute.”

You took your own pull from your Hookah and allowed several moments to pass in silence.

“He wasn’t wrong though. You are a beauty.”

Your eyes met his but only for a moment before he looked down and into his glass. He swirled the liquid then downed the rest.

“Thank you but I’m sure you must say this to all the girls you meet in underground Moroccan clubs while smoking semi-illegal hash.”

He checked and it was deep, and it made you wonder what his actual laugh sounded like.

“I don’t meet any girls in underground clubs in Morrocco while smoking semi-illegal hash, much less talk to them. You would be my first.”

Your eyes lingered and you couldn’t ignore the thrill that raced through you.

“Oh I do so love exclusivity,” you said while batting your eyelashes.

It was an action he snorted at. A few more moments passed in comfortable silence.

“So, tell me, what is a Moroccan rose doing here? Business or pleasure?”

“Moroccan rose?”

A small shy smile spread across his lips and for a second you didn’t think he would clarify.

“It’s uh—your scent. You smell like Moroccan roses.”

You stared at him surprised he could smell you in a place so filled with so many smells.

“I didn’t know you could smell me.”

“I smelled you since the moment you sat down at the bar. Moroccan roses with a slight hint of hibiscus,” he said nodding to the bud still in my hair. “You’re quite distracting.”

He went right back to puffing from his Hookah as if he hadn’t dropped two very important facts. One, he noticed you as soon as you walked in and two, he found your scent distracting. Those were very good signs.

“Uh—pleasure, strictly pleasure,” you replied.

His head snapped to you, and you glanced at him with a coy smirk.

“I came for a bit of business, but it’s really been only for pleasure. This is my last stop and tonight was supposed to be the culmination of that fun. Sort of like my last hoorah.”

“Ah, a wanderer?”

You leaned back and sighed. “I have been known to wander a bit but not all those who wander are lost.”

The smirk on his lips disappeared and his head cocked to the side.

“Tolkien.”

You smiled and nodded, “A favorite quote.”

He didn’t speak for a few moments, instead, he just stared at you, locking your eyes. The look that flashed across his face made you curious. He looked like he’d just discovered something rare, seen something he couldn’t understand or explain. As soon as the look came, it went, replaced by one of awe.

“Gorgeous chaos, he mumbled in a hypnotized daze.

“What?”

“She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos and you can see it in her eyes.”

The way he said it made your heart race so fast you could have sworn it was audible over the instruments in the club. He looked as though he were looking through you, either right to your soul or to every little atom that made up your aura and all the stars of your being. In all your years you’d never been looked at like this. He looked at you like the reflection of the universe, and all of the galaxies could be seen through your orbs like he was so transfixed that if he dared look away the world itself would crumble around us casting us into oblivion, like dreams were made of this one moment and his dreams were all about me. Every woman wished someone would look at them like this and right now you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Let not light see my black and deep desires,” he added.

Fuck, you thought. You felt like he’d just cast a spell on you that pinned you right where you were. You watched his hand lift and move toward your face but before he touched your cheek his hand froze. Shaking his head, he dropped his hand while clearing his throat.

“God, I’m very sorry. I don’t know what—what came over me,”

He took a deep pull from his tube and kept his eyes forward. You cleared your throat and took another pull of your hash. “It’s okay. No harm no foul. Let’s just consider the effects of Charles Bukowski and Shakespear. A two-hit quitter.”

“You know those quotes?”

Blowing out the smoke, you nodded, “Yep. Charles Bukowski and Shakespeare, Mcbeth.”

He looked impressed.

“Wow, many would get Shakespeare because he’s a classic but not Charles Bukowski.”

“You shrugged. “What am I say, I’m a total literature snob.”

“All literature or just American?”

“All. The thoughts and writing practices around the world have always fascinated me. Did you know in some parts of the world the style often reflects societal beliefs of love?”

You could feel yourself running to the edge and prepared to jump off it though you remembered the looks most of your exes and flings gave you whenever you went off on a tangent about literature and love. It didn’t stop you.

“Through research and travel I find that though every area in the world relates to love, African and Middle Eastern literature whether novels, memoirs, or even poetry showcase it in such a way that one cannot miss the sentiment of love.”

Without giving him a moment to interject, you continued pointing out things your father had shown you on this trip. Things that were from well over two hundred years ago. You’d spent hours lost in the texts just immersing yourself in what life and love were like then. By the time you stopped speaking and your eyes returned to him, you’d realized you’d done it again.

“Uh--,” you awkwardly began trying to find the words to smooth things over or show him you weren’t so bookworm. However, the words escaped you. Sighing you continued, “I’m sorry I just—do that sometimes. I’ll stop.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your intelligence and passion for learning. A well-read mind is a beautiful mind and yours I can already tell would make many drunk off its beauty.”

He had a way with words—a beautiful, sensual, and sweet way, a way that made you eager to know more about him. A slow smile spread across your lips before you dipped your head feeling the full weight of your self-consciousness.

“Um--.”

“I’m Chris.”

He held his hand out to you waiting for you to take it. After a few moments of contemplation, you took it.

“Cali.”

Shaking his hand, you allowed yours to linger for a bit longer than necessary, as did he. It was your turn to get lost in his eyes, his impossibly deep eyes that somehow in the dark shone bright blue. You both released each other at the same time but your hands rested on the seat between you, so close but so far.

“Tell me more about literature steeped in love.”

You smiled then continued not needing any more of an invite. The next several hours passed with the two of you in an enthralling conversation about literature of all sorts and the differences between cultures, beliefs, and even society. You tapped into your knowledge from your major and all that you’ve learned over the last two and a half years on top of the things you’d discovered while traveling with your father. The more you talked about the topic the more you realized you’d made the right decision in changing your major and eventual career path.

When Chris tuned in and added his own findings and experiences you couldn’t help but sit there mesmerized by his intellect. You’d always had a weakness for a smart man. This man happened to be blessed with brains and beauty—a deadly combination. All you wanted to do when he spoke was listen and pay attention. There was something commanding about him, something that demanded attention.

“Am I boring you?”

“Huh? What?”

He smirked then bit his bottom lip and your eyes dropped to them.

“You’re staring like you’re lost,” Chris explained.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I was listening to you just—lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking?”

You looked around the room and realized that there were plenty more people who’d wandered in and the new additions made the club louder. You knew then that you’d been sitting here much longer than you’d thought. You roamed your eyes over him resigning to your fate. It had to have been fate. A man who looked like him, who was your type in every way that mattered, who checked every intelligence criteria box you had and made you want to do such bad, dirty, nasty things too. Talking to him had only intensified your desire for him.

“Highly inappropriate things,” you said before grabbing your freshly refilled glass to take a sip.

“Care to share with the class?”

Resting your hand on the back of the seat, you nudged your jaw in your palm and gazed at him trying to decide if you were drunk enough.

“What if your highly inappropriate thoughts match mine?”

Your belly fluttered. Was he saying that he has also been having inappropriate thoughts about you this whole time? You were at a loss for words and that was rare. His amusement twinkled in his eyes but there was something else there—seduction.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

His lips quirked before he tipped his glass to them.

“Me?”

He scoffed. “I don’t think I have one seductive bone in my body.”

He had to be kidding. You’d been trying to find one unattractive thing about him for hours, just one and every attempt was a failure.

“I’ve been sitting here with you for the last few hours, and I doubt that very much.”

Chris smiled and under the colored lights, you could have sworn you saw him bite his bottom lip. It was a quick action but done in such a sensual way that goosebumps pricked your skin.

“Have I seduced you, Cali?

“It could be that you have, or it could be these never-ending drinks, or the hash and whatever else is in the air. Who’s to say.”

“See, told you, not one seductive bone in me. You on the other hand--.”

“What about me?”

Chris looked like he was weighing the pros and cons of divulging this information.

“Foreswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night!”

A giddy giggle escaped you and you clamped your hand over your mouth a tab bit too late. Chris laughed joining in with your laughter.

“Oh my god,” you said before an abomination came out of your mouth in the sound of a snort, straight-up Steve Urkle style.

Horrified your eyes widened but Chris only laughed harder, clapping his hand over his chest. He didn’t look to mind. “Cute”.

As if the compliment was the incantation to opening King Midas’ doors, you slid closer realizing somehow your bodies had naturally drifted closer to one another already. Now he was only a few inches from you. Again, Chris’s hand rose and traveled to you, this time he didn’t stop until he was centimeters from you.

“May I?”

You nodded. The back of his hand touched your jaw softly, then he slowly trailed It up to your ear before turning it so he cupped your cheek. The heat from his palm seared your skin in the most delicious way making your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Are you saying my beauty has seduced you?”

Chris didn’t speak at once; he just allowed his thumb to skitter across your cheek in feather-lite touches, but they couldn’t be missed. Your skin tingled, heart raced, and stomach knotted. His effect on you was so instantaneous that you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Cali—I dare say that you have bewitched my mind--.” His thumb slid across your bottom lip.

“--My eyes--.” Now it was pulling your bottom lip down ever so slightly feeling.

“--And my curiosity with far more than your beauty.”

On instinct, you caught the tip of his thumb between your teeth and but down—not enough to hurt though. A deep groan fell from him, and holy hell did it sound sexy as fuck. Not only did your brain think so but so did your body, the evidence was the slickness between your legs. You watched his face drift closer and closer to yours but when he was a few inches from your lips he stopped and waited. You were confused for only a few seconds when it dawned on you, he wanted you to have equal say in how this moment played out. He wanted to know that you wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you.

Chris's eyes were on yours searching but patiently waiting. They flited between your eyes and your lips, and you wanted to know how patient of a man he was. As if he heard your thoughts, he smirked.

“I am a very patient man, Cali. I could make you break before you me.”

The cockiness coming off of him only heightened your attraction to him. Any other time when it hadn’t been over six months since you’d been with someone or with any other man that didn’t look like him or think like him you would have enjoyed making him eat those words. Tonight—you’d rather him eat something else. With a smirk of your own, you crashed your lips to his and showed him how much you wanted to kiss him.

Chris moaned on your mouth, allowing you to lead the action. His lips felt at home on yours, a perfect fit, and the electricity crackling through you said they were possibly meant for yours. That electricity is what made you pull back to look at him. Did he feel it too? The look in his eyes said he had felt it and it was having the same effect on him.

“Holy shit,” you said.

A wide smile lit his face and this time both of you took lead slamming your lips together again. His hands were on you in seconds, one pulling you flush against his upper half, the other cupping your skull, holding your head in place as he kissed you senseless and into the most frenzied state of arousal you’d ever been in. You wanted this man—this man you only knew a handful of things about—this man you’d only known for a few hours. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything.

Dipping your tongue into his mouth, you wrapped it around his, but he beat you to what happened next. Chris sucked your tongue in a slow sensual rhythm. With each one, you moaned and with each moan, Chris held you closer. You didn’t know if the rapid pounding against your breasts was his heart or yours and you doubted it mattered. When Chris nibbled your bottom lip, you whimpered and gripped him at his waist, crumpling his crisp white t-shirt. You didn’t know when it happened but when you felt the hard rippled ridges on him you realized your hand had somehow made it underneath his shirt. His body quivered while a shudder slipped from his lips.

“The way I react to you and you to me,” he croaked out, his voice husky, raw, and full of desire. “It’s intoxicating.”

You smiled and tipped your tongue out to trace along his lips. He sat there still letting you explore the taste of him. The more you tasted the more you wanted and without warning, he bit your tongue and sucked it into his mouth pulling you into another soul-swapping kiss.

“Christ! Do you want to go somewhere else?”

You moved your face until there were a few inches between your lips and peered into his eyes. You were met by the same patience, the same self-control but now it was not as tightly bound. You nodded first, then spoke, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded again with a smile. “Let’s go.”

Both of you stood and went into motion in unison, him making a move to the bar to settle both of your tabs while you to the restrooms to touch yourself up. A few minutes later, you met him at the door then dipped into a waiting taxi. You got lost in the view once it pulled around the corner to show the darkened beach but when you felt a large hand rest just above your knee at your thigh your attention went right back to where it belonged.

Sitting beside you, he looked like a man who’d made up his mind to seduce you, his eyelashes were low, eyes a mixture of bright blue in color but heavy in headiness. If seduction was a person, he was sitting across from you. Biting your bottom lip, you sucked it into your mouth. Chris’ hand inched higher and higher until it was halfway up your thigh with his fingers kneading the fleshiest part of your inner thigh. A soft moan escaped you.

His reaction was a pleased smile that instantly made you feel shy. Pressing your fingertips to your lips, you turned your head from him to the window and giggled behind it. His fingers never stopped kneading and the more they moved the more you wanted to moan. You liked them on you. suddenly you felt his nose nuzzle your ear.

“God, you’re sexy. I can’t wait to hear that moan loud and clear,” he whispered.

If the eyes of the taxi driver weren’t steadily peeping into the rearview mirror at the two of you, you would have stuck your tongue down his throat. Keeping some equanimity about you; you put your hand on his thigh a few inches from his inseam and squeezed. His groan was guttural and filled with so much yearning your belly did backflips from anticipation.

Before you knew it, the car stopped. Chris thanked the driver, then came around to open your door. With his hand held out, he waited for you to place yours in it. Giddiness took over and you took his hand. He then pulled you out of the car flush against him. You giggled again and allowed him to wrap his arms around your waist as he dropped a teasing open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. He cupped your skull and kept you right where he wanted you as he tasted your neck. You easily got lost in the sensation and the way his lips sent tingles all through you.

“Moroccan rose will be my favorite scent for the rest of my life now,” he mumbled against you.

“Such a sweet talker.”

Chris yanked the back of your neck and crashed his lips to yours, rolling his tongue with yours and nipping at your lips. Moaning you wrapped your arms around him his neck and sagged against him. He began walking backward but he held you tightly never making you feel like you would fall. You felt sand between your toes and that fact was so startling you broke the kiss. When you glanced around you saw the desert before you.

“Oh my god, I thought we were going to your hotel.”

“I didn’t book one. That’s where I’m staying,”, he said pointing off to the right.

A large tent was pitched, and it bellowed with the gentle night breeze.

“A tent? Are you camping?”

“With a view like this, I couldn’t bear to have walls separating me from it. Trust me it’s not as rustic as you’re thinking. Come on.”

Chris took your hand and lead the way to the wood-planked walkway. As he led you, you took notice of the other pitched tents in the vicinity. They weren’t miles away, but they definitely weren’t close enough to be nosey. When you got to the entrance, he unzipped the flap and lifted it allowing you to go in first. When you stepped inside it was like stepping into a little piece of ancient Morocco. This was glamping.

The lanterns around the space were lit and decorative images danced around the roof and walls of the tent. It was beautiful.

“Wow.”

“Like it?”

You nodded. He took your hand again and led you to the back through another flap. To the back, there was a deck, and it showed the vastness of the desert. Where sand touched the sky, the indigo glow was breathtaking. Here the stars were the most visible.

“Wow—incredible.”

You got lost in the stars searching for your favorite constellations.

“Wow, I can see Hercules,” you said pointing out the constellation to the right. “And Canis Major, my god you can clearly see how it resembles a dog. Look.”

Your voice betrayed your excitement. That excitement was how you didn't realize how close he was until you felt his arms wrap around your stomach. His bearded chin nestled in the crook where your shoulder and neck met.

“There is Altair and over there is Vega. Do you know their story?”

You shook your head. Before he spoke again, he kissed a path from your neck to your ear then back down.

“Vega was a celestial princess, one of the goddesses of the sky. That meant she was immortal. Though she was immortal that didn’t stop her from worrying about what everyone else in this world desires--.”

His teeth grazed your shoulder and snapped the thin strap of your dress. With his teeth, he pulled it off your shoulder and then brought kisses back up your shoulder.

“She was worried as it seemed she would live in eternity alone without an everlasting love. Love that she’d watched plenty a mortal obtain.”

He trailed kisses along the back of your neck to your other shoulder and mirrored the same actions. With your straps off your shoulders, the material began to sag off your body. Your skin was cool thanks to the breeze but just beneath the surface you were sweltering, and it was his doing.

“One day Altair, a mere mortal, caught the eye of Vega from her celestial perch. She was so besotted with his beauty and his form that--.”

His large hands slipped a little higher to untie the strings just underneath your breasts. From there it was an easy slide for the dress to fall to your ankles.

“She descended from the heavens to greet him--.”

He turned you to face him then stepped back and slowly looked over your naked body. The heat in his eyes could have ignited sand itself.

“They fell deeply in love. It was a love poetry and plays were written about. A love so all-encompassing, so passionate, so life-altering. They lived every day of his mortal life together until they both retired to the skies to never part for all eternity.”

His voice alone could give orgasms, it was that hypnotizing, that enticing. That coupled with the way he was looking at you in this moment it was impossible to not squirm.

“You give Byron’s words new meaning. She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus, mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

Fuck, you thought as a fresh gush of moisture dampened your panties.

“You’re beautiful Cali—so beautiful.”

The wind blew but before you could shiver, he was there shielding you, holding you close, caressing your skin tracing a path of fire and desire up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. When he cupped your jaw, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed you softly and slowly teased you. When he broke the kiss, he tailed his lips to your neck and sucked then dipped down. When he stood again, he had you in his arms.

When you felt his lips on your nipple you exclaimed, throwing your head back. If his lips on your neck felt good, now they felt like heaven. As he licked and pleased your flesh, he sat on the reclining chair. With you straddling him, he took your other breast into his hand and kneaded it.

Instantly your back arched; “Mmmm.”

“So receptive of me.”

For emphasis, Chris pinched the nipple that was just between his lips. You sucked in a sharp breath and angled your back further. His hand at your tailbone stopped you from squirming too far. To intensify the sensation, he pinched your other nipple and latched his lips onto your throat.

“Oh god,” you whispered.

“You smell like roses, taste like spun sugar, feel like heaven, but tempt me like a seductress. You’ll drive me mad.”

He licked the swell of your breast and the valley between then shook his head in between your breasts. One second you were relishing the wanton feelings bubbling within you, and the next your fingers were laced in his hair yanking his head back so you could feast on his lips. His moans echoed into the desert behind you enhancing the sultry vibes of the moment you were sharing.

Abandoning his hair, you lifted the hem of his shirt anxious to see the rest of him. Chris sat up, lifted his arms, and allowed you to peel his shirt off. With his chest bare, your eyes dropped and took in every detail. The lite dusting of hair right below his collarbone was inviting. Normally you hated chest hair on men, you found it sloppy and cumbersome especially when it ended up in your mouth. With him, right now it was anything but. Unable to help yourself, you plastered your hands over his chiseled pecs and smoothed your fingers over them. He looked like he worked out every day.

The myriad of tattoos that were scattered across his chest and abdomen made you do a double take. You hadn’t expected it at all. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip you resisted the urge to rake your nails down his chest.

“Your eyes are glazed over, you okay?”

Embarrassment washed over you and you blinked away from his chest to his true blues.

“Perfect,” you said before kissing him again.

Seconds later, Chris stood holding you against him carrying you inside. When you felt the mattress underneath you, you perched your legs on the bed and watched him stand before you. His eyes roamed over your body again and it was like he was looking right through you.

“Did I lose you?”

He scoffed. “Not a chance, sorry I zoned out for a second.”

“Ah, not doing it for ya’ huh.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?”

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you closer to him at the edge of the bed. Keeping his hand on you, he brought your foot to his lips and kissed the bone just there. He then led kisses a little way down your leg while his other hand swirled a path along your leg. Every few kisses, he bit your flesh making chills race through you.

“Have you heard the thoughts your brain forms? God, I don’t think I have ever been this attracted to someone in my life. I’m not just attracted to your beautiful face or your incredibly sexy body.”

His lips were now at your inner thigh, and you watched him sink to his knees before he kissed that bone right beside the most private of your body, just where your thigh and pelvis met.

“Mmm.”

Chris then draped one of your legs over his shoulder while pushing the other down flat against the bed.

“This devastatingly sexy body,” he repeated before he placed a kiss at the top of your mound. “I’m attracted to your mind. This entire night I haven’t been able to help the thoughts I’ve been having like we’ve met before--.”

He hooked his fingers in your thong.

“Spoken before--.”

He pulled the material slowly down your hips then legs, then tossed it behind him.

“Touched before, kissed before.”

With that, he dropped an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss on your clit.

“Uuugh, fuck!”

“This can’t have been the first time I’ve done that.”

He led small kisses across to your pelvis then inner thigh and back again. Every kiss made you squirm, your back arch, and your fists ball the fabric on the bed.

“Are you talking about previous lives now?”

“Maybe.”

You bit down on your bottom lip then angled onto your elbows.

“Careful sounds like you’re awfully close to saying something as cliched as destined mates,” you teased.

He smirked.

“Cliched? Would I be wrong?”

Before you could answer, he delivered a long stroke of his tongue across your sex stopping any thoughts much less words. Your gasp echoed around you as you slammed your back to the bed. With your fists balled beside you, your thighs raised trying to press together to deliver the pressure you needed. However, they didn’t meet. Chris pushed them back to the bed keeping you wide for him.

“What was that Calli? I couldn’t quite hear that.”

You opened your mouth to speak but again his lips found your folds. The slow but precise flicks he delivered make goosebumps freckle your skin as if it were cold trying to preserve its heat when in truth, your body was on fire and steadily reaching the point of combustion.

“Ah, you sighed when he sucked your clit nether lips into his mouth fluctuating the pressure he gave you. When you felt the tip of his tongue dip into your entrance your hands abandoned the sheets and grabbed hold of his hair keeping his head right there.

The feel of him dipping his tongue in and out of you felt so good. He started slow and gradually sped up before he swirled his tongue within you. He slurped and you nearly levitated off of the bed.

“Mmm, you taste incredible, Calli.”

With your nails dug into his scalp, you held tightly to his hair as you felt the beginning stirs of your orgasm. Fuck, already, you thought in pure shock. He’d barely begun. Sure enough, without warning your crescendo came and your grip tightened before your thighs trapped his face between your legs with his mouth just where you needed it.

“Oh my god! Oh god, oh god, oh god! Yesss!”

Chris moaned as he pried your thighs open. Feeling bold and strong from the orgasm you were still riding, you tugged at his hair urging him up. As soon as he was close enough you kissed him, swirling your tongue with his tasting yourself. The distraction was enough to make you roll onto him to straddle his body.

“Mmm, you’re right I do taste good.”

Chris’ grip on your hips tightened as he groaned and kissed you fiercely, stealing whatever breath you had left within you. Pulling away, you traced kisses down his jaw to his neck. His hand slinked down your back to grip your bare ass. It was such a strong grip that you gasped, then groaned when you became wet all over again. You sank lower and kissed his tattooed chest, taking care to tease his hardened nipples. Every groan, moan and fluctuation in his breathing fueled your desire for him making you want to please him even more.

When you made it to his waist you began undoing his belt, then his pants. Within seconds, you had them undone but before you could make the move, Chris flipped you onto your back and crashed his lips to yours. Not having it, you rolled right back onto him but again he flipped you onto yours. The two of you giggled together realizing that neither of you was going to have your way with this one and someone had to yield.

Chris caressed your cheek and gently kissed your lips leading a path of soft kisses down your body. You watched as he trailed the flower that had been in your hair down your flesh. Everywhere it touched goosebumps appeared and everywhere it went it left behind a trail of yearning. He rotated the bud around your nipples, then slowly brought it between the globes of your breasts. When he went down your stomach, he went around your belly button taking his sweet time knowing that every second only made your desire burn hotter and hotter. He then traced the flower to your core, making you flinch.

“Sensitive or hungry?”

You groaned and sucked your lip into your mouth. He then traced the number eight across your sex. After he finished m

“I could watch your body react to this flower all night,” he uttered eyes never leaving the flower. Once his face dipped down and he found himself right back between your legs, eye level with your sex you reached for him.

“I want you.”

“And you’ll have me but not until I have you screaming my name, writhing and dripping begging for me.”

He didn’t wait for your reply, instead, he buried his face between your legs and feasted as none had feasted before. Your moans spilled from you one after the other at varying decibels. You didn’t care how loud you were being. Normally you got a little self-conscious when you expressed your pleasure. You never felt one hundred percent comfortable with any of your exes or partners and it wasn’t due to any fault of theirs. It just was how it happened. With Chris, right now, you wanted him to know just how good he was making you feel, how much you wanted him.

The flower he held never left your body and somehow, he managed to ravage your clit and folds while circling your breasts and nipples with the flower. Just when you thought you were going to come apart and shoot into the night sky above, he bit your inner thigh while pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuuuck!”

With that, you came again, and again, he slurped every single drop like it was the most precious commodity.

Chris then rose and stood in front of you. His pants were open showing off just a smidge of the snug-fitting black boxer briefs he wore. You gave him your full attention as he removed the remainder of his clothes. As the pants dropped, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip still picturing what he had hidden behind those things.

“The way you’re looking at me is only making this harder; harder being the operative word,” Chris said.

Your eyes dropped to the prominent bulge at the juncture of his thighs. Your tongue snaked out to slide across your lips anxious for him. Chris groaned then tore the underwear off revealing all of him to your eager eyes.

“Wow,” you marveled.

He didn’t move, he stood there allowing you time to take him in, and take him in you did. He was buff, but not in an overly done way, in an everyday guy who was active in his life way. The tattoos on his skin only added to his sex appeal.

“Like what you see?”

You smirked and dropped your thighs back to the mattress and just as expected his eyes fell to just where you wanted his full attention.

“I bet I’d like what I feel even more.”

Chris chuckled, shook his head then stalked toward you. With ease, he nestled himself between your open and welcoming legs and bit your nipple before lowering the weight of his body on you.

“I felt you liked to tease, but I see teasing is just the tip of the iceberg, huh?”

You felt the thick, heavy mass pressing against your sex and you could barely hold yourself back from bucking up against him. His groan was rich, and it sent such a thrill through you. You couldn’t believe you had this strong an impact on someone and that he was freely letting you see it. It’s like he wanted you to know that you had him wrapped around your finger.

Chris softly kissed you once, then twice. Each kiss gave you a glimpse at something deeper, something tender, and sweet. He could be a seducer but that wasn’t all that he was. You rolled onto him again and kissed a trail down his sculpted frame taking care to kiss all the parts of him that tempted you. You kissed each nipple, raking your nails through the dusting of hair on his chest, each defined ab, and his obliques where those mouthwatering indentations resided. At the touch of your lips on that part of him, you felt a heavy thwack against your chin. Glancing down, you saw the offender. Up close you took notice of the violent veins protruding along his shaft and the thick and swollen head that glistened with a long drop of his desire.

“Planning on drawing it?”

“I could if it would make you harder.”

Chris scoffed. “Honey, I don’t think I could be any harder right now.”

“Open for debate,” you replied before tipping your tongue out to lightly swirl around the bulbous head.

He groaned long and loud while arching his head back. The veins in his neck bulged showing you just how desperately he was trying to cling to control. You repeated the action a few more times before you sucked his tip into your mouth applying more than a little pressure.

“Christ!”

You moaned. He tasted like mint and something else—vanilla maybe. Whatever it was, you were sure it was a taste unique to him and a taste you found subtle enough to enjoy. Slowly, you dipped your mouth lower and lower taking half his thickness before you sucked up. His hiss and the slight miss of his hands as they aimed to the top of your head no doubt to hold you in place told you everything you needed to know. He was open. You licked from the base to his tip like he was your favorite flavor lollipop. Another groan was your reward.

“Do that again.”

You licked him again. “That?”

You knew that wasn’t what he meant. The muscles in his jaw jumped then his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“No,” he struggled out.

You smirked and dipped your mouth over him again this time taking him a little further until you felt he was close to the back of your mouth. Chris groaned and fastened his hands on your head keeping your head there trapped. You moaned on him and without warning, he brought your head lower so you took him deeper. With him nestled right where he could feel the vibrations most, you moaned again. His grip loosened as he pulled you off of him.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. I swear ta gawd, you’re gonna make me cum right now.”

You could pick up an accent and it was the hottest thing you’d heard. He wasn’t the only one that was close to coming.

“Your mouth feels incredible.”

Feeling bold, you took him into the mouth he liked so much and showed him incredible was the beginning. By the time you were finished with him, you’d have him listing off every synonym of the word. As you pleased his flesh, every hiss, gasp, moan and groan became more and more desperate, more and more emphasized and the more he lost control, the more powerful you felt. That didn’t mean that giving him pleasure meant you felt none. You were so turned on it took everything in you to not drop your hand between your legs to inch yourself to the release he was creeping up on.

Quicker than lightning, he’d flipped you onto your back and pressed your thighs apart making enough room for his bulky body and stealing your breath in the process. The way he looked at you as if you were his prey and he the predator only made you want him more.

“Fuck,” you whispered out.

“If you insist.”

His lips pressed to yours and his tongue swirled with yours. The man was a kissing connoisseur and magician, and this was the way he cast his spells—this was the way he bewitched. When you felt the tip of his intrusion brush against your inner thigh you shook and immediately felt embarrassed. Chris’ smile was soft.

“The feeling is mutual, believe me.”

He kissed you once, twice then a third, and on that third kiss, he joined your bodies in one slow, torturous, and impossibly delicious feeling thrust. Every inch he filled you with made your back arch and every arch pressed your breasts onto his hard chest. Chris tore his lips from yours first then buried his face into your neck and whimpered.

“Oh—you feel--.”

It was a sentence he never finished—not with words. Instead, he shuddered into your ear and let his body mirror it with a shiver. With him buried to the hilt, you felt impossibly full, but you still wanted more. Wrapping one leg behind him to rest at the crest of his ass, you lifted your hips to meet his next thrust. The movement was unexpected and his snapped to yours. With your eyes locked, you clenched around him and circled your hips.

“Fuck!”

Chris pressed one hand to the bed and brought the other to your throat, but no part of his grip hurt. It was the motivation he needed to speed his movements. With every connection, your breasts jerked, and every retreat your leg around him tightened as your muscles.

“Uuugh, you’re going to kill me gorgeous,” Chris croaked out with every thrust.

“Then return the favor. I think death by fuck would be a good way to go.”

His eyebrow crooked and you saw the moment something shifted within him. His jaw twitched and then with his next bruising thrust he clasped both your wrists in one of his hands and pressed them above your head. From then, his thrusts became rougher, harder and so damn wild. The pattern her set was one of chaos and your body responded to it. He kept you guessing, needing and whimpering until you were sure that the other tents nearby could hear just what was going on and you didn’t care. You hoped they were listening.

No matter how you tried to free your hands to touch him, it was no use. He held you right where you were taking everything he wanted while giving you just as much. Soon, the pit of your stomach tightened, and your legs trembled, you were close and the grin on his face said he knew it.

“I think death by multiple orgasms sounds like a better way to go.”

Chris thrusted forward hard then circled his hips sending you over the edge. You screeched and allowed your body to shake as it wished. You had no control over it, he did. You panted and bucked against him needing more and having too much all at once. When his thrusts continued, he’d released your hands and grabbed your thighs keeping them apart and you slightly elevated in both his strong arms. This new angle told you that you’d be crashing over the edge in seconds.

Sure enough, you came again and again with him showing no mercy nor giving you any reprieve. Instead, he changed the pattern again, slowing things down. The sudden change sent your body into hyperactivity and your hips bucked again. Chris groaned and moved his hands to your hips. He held on to you like he was riding a bucking bronco trying to control you. With a groan that sounded so close to a growl, he pulled out of you then flipped you onto your stomach and sheathed himself once again.

“Aaaah! Fuck, yes!”

The action was so quick your head spun but not for long. When you felt his hand at the back of your neck and the other coming down on your ass you lost your shit.

“Oh god—Chris.”

“Mmm. Still sound like a good way to go?”

He dropped his lips to your back and kissed a path along your spine until he reached your shoulder. Once there, he sank his teeth into your flesh. You dropped your head back and for the first time, you noticed that this particular part of the tent was see-through, and it gave you the perfect view of the stars. As another orgasm claimed you, you felt yourself transcending to touch those stars. Chris slowed his movements and brought his kisses to your jaw, then your lips. This kiss was different, it was languid, teasing, but filled with longing. It was a different longing than before; it was a longing for more time.

“You’re perfect, Cali,” Chris mumbled on your lips. “So fucking perfect.”

Your belly fluttered. Mustering all your energy, you pulled from him, then pushed him onto his back. He stretched his arms behind his head with a wide smile as if he couldn’t wait for the show. You stood on the bed giving him a full view of your body then stood over him legs wide enough that he could see just what was in store for him. As he licked his bottom lip you saw a spark of worry in his eyes.

“Scared?”

Smirking he stretched his body and groaned. “Should I be?”

“I don’t know. I could do whatever I want to you.”

“I’m counting on it.”

His cockiness was too damn attractive, and you couldn’t believe you liked it. Scoffing, you lowered yourself over him. His eyes dropped between your legs and watched with bated breath. He looked like he was mumbling an incantation in his head drawing your body to his. Just before you sank onto him, you stopped hovering just out of reach. Chris groaned then cracked his neck.

“Are you afraid?”

“Not at all.”

“Then sink that gorgeous, deliciously tight pussy on this cock.”

“No please?”

He smirked.

“Oh, so you want me to beg.”

“Are you above it?”

Chris brought one hand to his mouth, licked his thumb then brought it to your clit. The first stroke was feather-lite.

“Mmm.”

“Are you?” He dipped his thumb lower swiping your slit coating his finger before bringing it back to swirl around your bud. You moaned again but made a silent vow to not give in.

“Try as you will, I guarantee you will not hear me beg for anything.”

“No?”

For emphasis he gently pinched your clit sending a sharp electric charge through you and right back to your sex. Unconsciously, you dipped lower, your folds brushing the tip of his cock. You both groaned at the same time, both bucked your hips together, but you were the one to rise back up.

“Stubborn huh.”

“More than you know. However, I would have mercy on you if you said the magic words.”

“What words may they be?”

His finger was now going back and forth and round and round in a synchronized show of skill. It was becoming harder and harder to resist. You wanted him to fill you as much as he wanted to be nestled in your heat.

“Please—take this—dick.”

Again, your body dipped lower and brushed his tip. This time you didn’t lift up, instead, you rocked your body back and forth like a wave coating his bulging appendage. With each swipe of your sex, Chris softly grunted and subtly lifted his hips. You didn’t know if it was an involuntary movement or if this was a ploy.

“God, you’re so wet for me, Cali.”

“Mm-hm. Dripping.”

His finger sped and you knew you were close. You just hoped he gave in before your body betrayed you. Circling your hips, you took a few centimeters of him giving him the impression you were giving in but when his hand came to your waist you lifted up denying him the satisfaction. The groan he let out was one of frustration. You saw the veins in his neck protruding and wondered how much longer he could hold out.

“Still so tight,” he whispered.

“Do you want to stretch me out?”

He scoffed, smirked, and angled his head back.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Cali.”

The authority in his voice made you straighten your spine. He sounded like he often gave orders, and you wanted him to command you.

“This dangerous game has consequences. Can you afford them?”

“Like?”

The pressure he applied to your pearl increased and you knew your face betrayed how much you liked it.

“Loss of voice, sore muscles, raw throat, inability to sit properly for a week or two, among others.”

“What about the consequences for you? Can you afford them?”

“Such as?”

“Inability to think of anything else but this tight, dripping pussy, hallucinations of seeing me everywhere you go but when it isn’t me wishing it were, daydreams that take you back to this night for months on months, frenzied wet dreams every single night, and the fate of inadequate self-pleasuring where it never is good enough because it is not my hand, my mouth, my tight delicious pussy. Your punishment for tonight will be a lifelong one. Can you afford the price of your pleasure?”

He looked at the end of his rope like he was about to release the beast any moment. His jaw ticked, throat bobbed, and breath shook.

“Cali—please—take this dick so I can fill you and stretch you so perfectly that weeks from now you will not be able to have another because you will only see my eyes.”

As the victor you dropped onto his cock, taking him fully into your body and loving every second of it. Chris grunted then gripped your hip. He didn’t move you though, he wanted you to take control. You instantly set the pace bucking against him with quick swipes. Chris sucked in a breath and watched you move, in complete awe. Rather than sticking to one pattern, you swirled around him before you began bouncing on his hardness.

“Fuck!”

He matched every move you made with an upward flick of his hips. Every time he did it, it threw you off until you’d stopped moving completely and allowed him to jackhammer up into your core.

“Fuck! Chris, yes, right there. Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me—cum with me.”

His thrusts became more and more aggressive and the sharp twinge of pain at your hip from his fingertips said you’d have a bruise to remember this night. It was a bruise you wouldn’t mind. Chris sprang up, held your hips more firmly, and rocked you against him as he fucked you. You could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that he’d lost control and was chasing the same thing you were—a release.

“Yes, Yes, God Cali.”

Your eyes locked and you felt the same longing he did. If only tonight wasn’t all you had. Before you knew it, you’d crescendoed over the edge pulling him with you. Both of you rode the wave of pleasure that kept producing sparks of fire and thrill straight through you making neither of you want to break apart. You kissed him allowing everything you were feeling to spill into him.

If tonight was all you had, then you would take it and press it to memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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#starcrossed: hft fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x ofc #professor x college student #college fanfiction #black fanfiction #chris evans smut #starcrossed 1

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hergrandplan · 12 days

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Get To Know Me Tag

Thank you for the tag Sophia ily 💜 @sillylittleflower

do you make your bed?

Usually! Especially when I leave the house in the morning, because then I'll remember.

If I stay the whole day at home though... at some point I'll look at my bed and see a crumpled mess of sheets

what's your favourite number?

7! my birthday and I feel, overall a lucky number. Plus idk, I can't explain why but it just *feels* right

what is your job?

I'm a copy editor! Started as an editorial assistant, but now that I've graduated and have more hours at the office (a very nice 32 hours, four days a week) I'm taking on more responsibilities and leading my own projects which is very fun

and I can now honestly say that if I was a Barbie, my job would be books (because it is! which is still wild)

if you could go back to school, would you?

Whenever I started freaking out about graduating at work, everyone said that I can still go back to school whenever.

However, since literally JUST got out of those trenches, I don't think I'll be going back any time soon

can you parallel park?

I can't even drive (I'm going to start lessons soon though)

a job you had that would surprise people?

I mean aside from being an editor? I think my internship in Acquisitions (still publishing but like, buying the books and stuff) was really cool! Especially the whole getting to read manuscripts from famous authors beforehand

do you think aliens are real?

The universe is too big for them not to be real

can you drive a manual car?

Nope and I tried once, had a panic attack so . automat it is

what's your guilty pleasure?

Fanfic, young royals, reading trashy books I know are going to be bad

tattoos?

Two! Both on my right arm, one a floral one and one bottle with a moon in it

favorite type of music?

Definitely pop. I used to be more a musical theatre girlie and I still love the theatre but I don't listen to it as much now

And especially sad pop (Lizzy McAlpine, Gracie Abrams, etc).... sign me up

Also: Blonde pop music is a vibe, it just hits different

favorite color?

Changes every day but I think today's is yellow

do you like puzzles?

I love them! I'm not allowed to buy them as much cause they're expensive but yes, love them

favorite childhood sport?

I played volleyball for 11 years (from age 7 till 18) so definitely that haha

do you talk to yourself?

All the time :) I've gotten used to it by now (even though I'm very annoying)

what movies do you adore?

There are some that I rewatch yearly, like Love, Actually, The Polar Express and A Muppet Christmas Carol, and I love them every year

Other movies that I adore are definitely like, sweet, easy movies with a little bit of a tearjerker. Nora Ephron is a gem, even if You've Got Mail is a bit creepy, and literally anything queer I'll watch.

Oh Nimona!!!

coffee or tea?

Coffee and I drink it way too much

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

A teacher lol

Onward tagging: @bigalockwood @skibasyndrome @darktwistedgenderplural @piebingo

and everyone who sees this and wants to have a go :)

#i love this tag!!!!#nina rambles

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chellesdump · 7 months

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Mrs. Spider - School Meal Club

"DaChaeTzu decided to spend the afternoon outside in the backyard playing any games that came to mind, but when Chae found something that caught her eye they decided to take it inside the house when they were called at lunchtime, during naptime Dahyun decided to keep it on her bed with her but soon their Mama found their newest acquisition and made them put it back outside since she almost suffered a heart attack"

word count ─ 1.2k

tags ─ little! school meal club, baby! tzu, baby! chaeng, toddler! dubu, mommy! jeong, mama! nay, autumn, backyard, crawly critters, bugs, spider

notes ─ This is for the Spider prompt, if we are talking about bugs we know Dubu has to be present. I wrote this in record time, today I spent a good portion of my afternoon-evening at my nibbling’s birthday party, so I only had so little time to write it but as always I don't feel good if I don’t write the prompt for the day. Please enjoy :3

After they had finished eating their breakfast the girls wanted to go out and play in their backyard, Mommy had promised they could go and play there if the weather wasn’t that cold, so they let her know “Go pway now p’ease?” asked Chae looking over where their eommas were sitting, “It’s cold outside if you go out then you will get sick” informed their Mama with an apologetic face.

ChaeTzu started pouting since they really wanted to go out and play, their eommas were suggesting different activities that they could do inside, thankfully Dahyun the savior came to the rescue, “But Mommy said if not too cold, we could pway” debated Dub, “an’ Sana unnie teach me to know if too cold or no. Here say 2 an’ 3 which means no too cold”.

“And exactly when it’s too cold?” asked Mama, “Mommy say start wif’ 1 no go out” responded Dubu, "Pway now?" asked Tzu with hopeful eyes, with a sigh and an accusatory look their Mama told them that they could go out and play, but first they needed to get out of their pajamas.

The adults helped the babies get into warm but comfy clothes so they could run to their heart's content, while the kids played in the backyard the adults would be watching tv in the living room to be close enough.

The first thing they did was gather the fallen leaves into a big pile and jump into it, they repeated the action several times until they got tired of it, then they decided to play on the playset that Mommy with the help of Hyo had built. Climbing, sliding and swinging they spent a good portion of their morning playtime in there, they played as if they were a dragon, princess and a knight, making up stories about why the princess was traped in the tower, or why the dragon wasn´t really bad, even about how the knight wasn’t really brave.

That was until their attention shifted elsewhere, Chaeng got distracted by something hanging from one of the playset’s supports, it was a tiny black thing that was making beautiful patterns with some translucent string, and being the art lover she is, watching the little critter was entrancing. Soon she was joined by her sisters that were looking for her, they didn’t understand what she was doing instead of playing with them, “What doing?” asked Tzu looking the same direction as Chae but having no luck locating whatever caught her sister's attention, Dubu also wanted to know so she repeated the question, “Chaengie what you looking?".

Putting a finger to her lips she pointed with her other hand to where the little creature kept making art for it’s audience, and whispered “Wook, pwetty” - if this was a comic you would be able to watch the shimmer on Chaengie’s eyes at the greatness of it -, finally DaTzu could watch the same thing as their middle sister. After watching it for a few minutes they could understand why Chaeng was so focused on it, “What that?” questioned Tzu trying to know what was the name of the creature that was capable of doing such art, using her unnie knowledge Dub answered, “Is a spider, I has a book ‘bout it”.

After her sisters' insistence, Dahyun went inside to fetch her book about bugs to read all the facts about the majestic spider, when she came back with it they sat under the cobweb to read all about their new friend, stopping to inform it about what they were reading, Dubu was thankful for her sister insistence on telling the spider all about the latest facts they were learning since she wasn't a strong reader yet. But who could blame her, she was barely 3 years old and still had so much time to get better at reading, most of what she was telling her baby sisters was from her memories of Mommy or one of her unnies reading it to her.

Their quality time with their new friend was cut short when Mama called them inside to eat lunch, not wanting to part ways with it they put the spider inside a jar with little holes on the lid to allow it to breathe, and hid it in one of their hoodies to take it to their room later. Throughout lunch, they talked about the many stories they invented while playing, how they played in leaf piles, and how they were reading under the playset's shadow, leaving out all the information about their newest friend who was hiding inside Dahyun's hoodie.

Soon after they finished eating their eommas informed them about the fact that nap time had come along, without much fuss the babies made grabby hands asking to be carried over to their room, while Mama and Mommy diapered up the babies Dubu went to use the potty, not before hiding Mrs. Spider - that’s the name the girls decided for their friend - under her covers.

Once she was back her Mama helped her get into a Pull-Up since she was still accident-prone while sleeping, soon after Mommy came back with some milk, 1 bottle of banana milk for Tzu, 1 bottle of strawberry milk for Chaengie, and a sippy cup filled with chocolate milk for Hyunnie; while they drank their milk Mama and Mommy sang a lullaby for them, 2 lullabies later the three girls were asleep.

The adults had gone back to the living room to wait while the kids had their nap, but as soon as they reached their destination they remembered that they hadn’t taken the bottles - and sippy cup - back, and if they let them there it was almost a fact that they would spill over and soak the beds. Nayeon was the one tasked to retrieve them since Jeongyeon was the one who prepared them, she made quick action of picking them up and replacing them with pacifiers in the girls' mouths to avoid finger-sucking, but what she found Dahyun cuddling made her run from the room while screaming.

Back in the living room Jeong heard her girlfriend's screams and went to find her, they collided in the hallway where Nay clung to Jeong's shirt crying, when she was able to calm down Jeong asked what had happened, “Dahyun, she had a… a jar with a… a spider inside!! I swear its many eyes all were looking at me” cried out Nay, “She is cuddling the jar Jeongie!! “We can’t let her keep it!!” added Nay before hugging her girlfriend once again.

When nap time was over, they explained to the girls how they couldn't keep their new friend trapped in a jar inside the house, the girls made their discontent known at their decision, but once their Mama told them how Mrs. Spider would miss their family they let it out back in the backyard waving goodbye and telling it how it would be missed.

And they promised not to bring anything inside before letting either Mommy or Mama know about it, to avoid Mama having a near heart attack again.

#chellesdump #age regression #sfw littlespace #jyp twice #twice agere #twice little space #toddler tzuyu #toddler chaeyoung #little kid dahyun #little! school meal club #little chaeyeoung #little dahyun #little tzuyu #spiders #ageretober #ageretober day 15

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renjibozo · 1 year

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episode 8 trailer dropped, you know what that means !

guess who's back for another prediction.

ok first off before i put the cut, i just think rei's english is so pleasant to the ears that's all

okay spoiler territory time

(edited a little to add in a little something)

it seems we're finally at that point of PV 2 and 3 where they started planning and preparing a birthday !

but first let me just cry about how cute the conversation between kazuki and rei are before i get into the topic of the scenes playing in the trailer

(don't trust my translation 100% i am only going off of how i understand it with limited knowledge)

Rei: Because Miri came, I started to feel the seasons. Kazuki: That's true∼ Rei: And I thought summer was just hot. Kazuki: You do become more of a hikikomori when the summer comes... Rei: Summer was just limited to coolers, but... Kazuki: But? Rei: There were... also days where I thought the sunlight was nice

also this

Rei: It's the first time that I've ever thought that I liked this weather Kazuki: Barbecuing on tiles sounds good too Rei: I'll have to refuse. Kazuki: Eeh?

i love how rei's a little more talkative and especially about his likes and dislikes when it comes to summer

anyways onto the scenes!

kazuki and miri are preparing but i'm still not sure if they're preparing for rei's birthday because putting kazurei's conversation aside, it should be related to the episode still like the previous trailer for episode 7

since miri's zoo trip is over and the rainy season was shown in episode 7, and kazurei talked about the summer weather, i can only guess that it really is gonna be a rei birthday thing because no way is it miri's birthday bc hers is in november, and her acquisition was in christmas eve

rei bday might be somewhere between june to september

i will cry if i get this correct

the suwa manor i assume??

we don't really see rei outside of the house on his own especially in work attire so this is new new

this implies that despite kyutaro once looking at rei saying he knows the consequences of betraying the organization the most, he is in contact with his boss (father)

did he have an escape attempt once? is this episode going to elaborate on that? this seems more of a rei backstory episode after kazuki's backstory episode

local malewife malewifing as usual, nothing out of the ordinary except he looks just a bit more natural in his position rather than vaguely distressed

im willing to bet kazuki's the one who did her hairstyle because i feel like rei would just accidentally tug on her hair every few seconds but i might be proven wrong or they never show us

favorite child and unfavorite child face off? they have similar facial structures and hair strand placement

the color contrasts is screeching into my face as well

(also i just think rei looks like slender man in that screenshot jesus christ he is terrifying)

now why is this man here

he cannot be related at all so whats he doing here !! was he hired by rei's boss to take care of him or something !!!! curious. so curious

i really do wonder what sort of conversation they're having in the midst of a gunfight inside a ship

maybe the organization found out about miri and them taking in miri?

the infamous "Rei-papa looks lonely sometimes" scene which really just wants me to think its a rei bday episode

NOW WHAT IS THIS !!!! HELLO !!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT HAPPENED LITTLE CRINGEMAN

he's showing too much emotion so i'm convinced that there was a threat made to miri and kazuki by favorite poster suwa child

we never see this man with any kind of scratch or wound from episodes 1 to 7 during gunfights, but we see him a little roughed up in this scene for once which really screams this man might be nearly superhuman but he is not Immune to physical damage (nor is he immune to psychological warfare)

this episode has me hyped because it seems like a tenser vibe compared to kazuki's more melancholy confrontation with his past which he ends up coming to terms with

hopefully rei does get back home safe and sound even if he gets a wound or two, manifesting!!

thats all folks, thanks for coming to my newest installment of yuzu loves overanalyzing 40 seconds of footage

#i have nothing better to do #buddy daddies spoilers #buddy daddies #edited to add a little detail

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ninja-muse · 7 months

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September is birthday month, if anyone's wondering why my acquisition of books appears to have slipped again (picture #2). At least I'd read nearly all of them before they joined my library shelves, and Winter's Gifts, well, it's really easy to read an Aaronovitch novella within a day or two of acquiring it. Especially since…

September was also week-vacation month, which is part of how I made it to 13 books read but very little explanation for my read-from-TBR-shelves stack (picture #1), only two of which I read on holiday. The two short ones I read in the gap between "finished the latest Book Of Substance" and "started the official Vacation Stack", and Digger was one of my 2023 goals so I decided to check that off. Baking Yesteryear was a surprise/accident. I was telling a coworker how much I enjoyed reading the library's copy and they said, "hey, while you were off, we got a copy too damaged to sell…". And one has to treat oneself in birthday month.

(Vacation was good, in case you were wondering. Camping, so no wifi, so lots of outdoors and reading time and charming rodent shenanigans.)

My biggest regret of the month, by which we mean less regret and more mild bookish panic, is the number of reading copies I appear to have taken home. I have one for Menewood which I'm planning to get to once I finish with My Roommate is a Vampire, and the rest of them were, well, um. Look. When your store buyer and random publishers send you books you'd enjoy and your coworkers finish reading ARCs you've been interested in, things happen, okay? At least at this point a lot of the books are coming out next year, which probably doesn't bode well for my 2024 TBR but that is a future problem.

Also, not doing great at my goal of reading a Canadian author every month. This is the second (?) month in a row I've failed on that front which, yes, is why I'm reading a Canadian author right now. (Also it's one of those ARCs a coworker finished with.)

Beyond the bookish stuff, there's not much to report. I've written a good bit and am surprising myself by how much I can write on my phone during a commute. Had a good birthday. Ate good food. Got fun things. Dealt with slightly more chaos at work than usual. Finished the last season of Great British Bake-Off aired in Canada and am looking forward to starting the Canadian version tonight.

How was your September?

And now without further ado, in order of enjoyment…

Evidence of Things Seen - Sarah Weinman, ed.

A collection of true crime journalism tackling recent social justice issues and big-picture flaws in the justice system.

8/10

multiple #ownvoices essays by BIPOC authors

warning: the usual things one would expect to find in true crime journalism

Infinity Gate - M.R. Carey

A scientist, the multiverse, AI, and the nature of humanity.

8/10

Nigerian and Moroccan POV characters

warning: slavery, fire, xenophobia, war, torture, violence

Thornhedge - T. Kingfisher

Toadling confronts the knight bent on entering the sleeper’s tower.

8/10

Arab Muslim secondary character

Digger Unearthed - Ursula Vernon

A wombat’s tunnel takes her to a very foreign land. She would like to go home please—but there are gods.

8.5/10

Baking Yesteryear - B. Dylan Hollis

Tried and true recipes from the past century.

9/10

🏳️‍🌈 author

The Fragile Threads of Power - V.E. Schwab

Seven years after Red London was saved, some people have moved on and others are still picking up the pieces. And some are asking whether the king deserves to be in power.

7.5/10

POV characters of colour, 🏳️‍🌈 POV characters (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 author

Winter’s Gifts - Ben Aaronovitch

Agent Kimberley Reynolds investigates a case with “unusual characteristics” during a Michigan winter.

7/10

Ojibwe secondary characters

Lud-In-The-Mist - Hope Mirrlees

A bourgeois father tries to save his children from the plague of fairy fruit—which is hard, since it doesn’t officially exist.

6.5/10

warning: classist, misogynist, generally unkind to the disabled and mentally ill

A Long Day in Lychford - Paul Cornell

Something is wrong with the borders around Lychford and the local coven has to put things right before people get hurt.

7/10

Black British main character

warning: mild racism and xenophobia

The Vaster Wilds - Lauren Groff

A servant girl flees her colonial town for the dubious safety of the wilderness.

7/10

protagonist of colour, mentally disabled secondary character, incidental Powhatan and other indigenous characters

warning: racism, misogyny, rape, disease, starvation, murder, death of a child

Board to Death - CJ Connor

Ben turns down a suspiciously good deal on an old board game. Then the dealer turns up dead on his doorstep.

6/10

🏳️‍🌈 main character (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay), 🏳️‍🌈 author, #ownvoices

Starter Villain - John Scalzi

Charlie inherits a supervillain empire, complete with a subscription mega-laser, spy cats, and enemies.

6.5/10

The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices - Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins

Two friends go on a holiday to northern England.

7/10

Currently reading:

Like Every Form of Love - Padma Viswanathan

A writer digs into the strange, complicated story of a man she befriended in a marina.

🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (gay), Indo-Canadian author, 🇨🇦

warning: domestic and child abuse

My Roommate is a Vampire - Jenna Levine

There’s a room-to-rent in Cassie’s low, low budget. The (hot) guy renting it acts like he’s from the 1800s. Surely he’s just quirky.

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (gay)

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin

A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

Stats

Monthly total: 13 Yearly total: 100/140 Queer books: 3 Authors of colour: 0 Books by women: 5 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 5 Books hauled: 6 ARCs acquired: 12 ARCs unhauled: 4 DNFs: 0

January February March April May June July August

#books #booklr #bookblr #rec lists #read in 2023 #reading wrap-ups #my photos #stacks of books

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coraleethroughthelookingglass · 4 months

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FANFIC ROUNDUP: 2023

LIST OF FANWORKS

POSTED

Nossë-Verse (Hallmark/Coffee Shop AU) with @somebirdortheother

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year - E - 13/13 (though only the last chapter was posted in 2023)

Seven - E - 3/7

Just Let Us Be Three - Durin/Disa/Elrond - T - one shot

Thanks For Making Me A Fighter - T - one shot

High and Dry - Gandalf/Saruman - T - one shot

Sharp Dressed Man - G - one shot

Let’s Play A (Love) Game - T - one shot

Just One Yesterday - T - one shot

Almost - T - one shot

Good Girl - E - 6/6

Pick A Part That’s New - Durin/Disa/Elrond - E - 5/5

Honey - E - One shot

Home Is Where The Heart Is - M - one shot

Other Fics

The Queen of Nothing - Fairytale/Royalty/YA AU - T - one shot

Tattoo You - Florist/Tattooist AU - T - one shot

Mergers and Acquisitions - Lawyers/Roommates AU - E - one shot

Dark is the Way. Light is A Place - Modern Dreams AU - T - 2/3

Stuck on Me Like A Tattoo - Sequel to Tattoo You - T - one shot

You Can’t Take The Sky From Me - Firefly AU - T - one shot

The Story of Us - modern AU - T - one shot

The Nerwen - Batman/Superheroes AU - T - 2/2

The Art of Letting Go - modern childhood friends to lovers AU - T - one shot

A Vague Haunting - urban fantasy AU - M - 2/5

Three Is A Charm - Celeborn/Galadriel/Halbrand - E - 1/3

Your Sword Vs My Dagger - University/Musicians AU - T - One Shot

Cruel Summer - Modern Friends with Benefits AU - E - 2/3

In Sickness and In Health - WW2 Soldier/Nurse AU - 5/6

The Decurion’s Wife - Roman AU - E - 6/9

Total words: including all the collabs 292,227 which feels crazy considering I keep beating myself up for writing too slowly.

UNPOSTED WIPS

Nothing. I have posted at least one chapter of everything I’ve started this year.

TOTAL # OF COMPLETED WORKS/FANDOMS WRITTEN IN

21 completed works written for the The Rings of Power fandom

OVERALL THOUGHTS

That I’ve done a lot more than I thought I had, although finishing one fic before starting another does seem to be an issue 😂

PERSONAL FAVORITE?

The Decurion’s Wife is the one I’m most proud of, mainly because of the amount of background research I’ve done. It’s also the story that I feel shows me evolving a little as a writer.

MOST UNDERAPPRECIATED

I think Dark is the Way. Light is A Place, which might have worked better in my head than on paper. I do still plan on finishing it though, so maybe when it’s all together it'll make more sense.