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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

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You Deserve Better (part six)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

•○🌑○•

Cassian's pov

Cassian had just finished his bath after a gruelling training session and sat down on the couch next to Az, opposite Rhys, when Rhys's mom walked in with a little girl hiding behind her skirts.

"I'm home boys." The Lady of Night Court said in her soothing and gentle voice, her wings tucked behind her. She tugged on the small hand holding her larger one, but the girl didn't budge from her position. The lady sighed. "Rhysand, come get your sister. She insisted on coming to meet you, but now she won't stop hiding."

Rhys stood up, grinning, walking towards them and peeking at the little girl. "Hello sweet pea."

The little girl's smile turned into a scowl, and honestly, it was so adorable Cassian couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"I don't like peas Rhysie. Don't call me that."

"Alright fine. Now come here. Let mother go." She reluctantly let go of her mother's skirts and raised her arms towards Rhys, waiting to be picked. He obliged and walked back to his place."I'm going to change and the go cook dinner. Don't get into any trouble."

"Us? Trouble? Never." Cassian said. As she passed by him, she ran a hand through his hair, patting Az's shoulder before entering her room.

"How have you been Thea?" Rhys questioned, setting her in his lap.

"I've been fine. Father got me more new toys and candies yesterday. Don't tell mother, but I sneaked some for you as well."

"Is that so? That's so nice." Then Rhys angled her so she could look at Cassian and Azriel. "That is Cassian. And that is Azriel."

Cassian smiled at her and she clung harder to Rhysand, as if they were going to eat her. Cassian walked over to them and knelt next to Rhys. "Hello Althea. How are you?"

"I'm good. Cassian." She said hesitantly. She looked up at her brother when Cassian held out his hand, who nodded. She slid her tiny hand into his.

"You can call me Cass." He said raising her hands and placing a kiss on her knuckles. She began giggling.

"Cass... can I call you Cassie?"

"C–cassie?"

"Mmhmm." She nodded seriously. "Like I call Rhys Rhysie, you'll be Cassie. Otherwise you can't be my friend."

"Oh mother. That's sad. I guess you can call me Cassie then."

She then turned to look at Az, who smiled. "You'll be Azzie." She didn't wait for his response as she hopped down from Rhys's lap and grinned at him before pulling out candies from her pockets and setting them on the table. "For all of us. We should eat them before mother sees." She said gravely.

•○🌑○•

As the inner circle waited for Rhys and Feyre to arrive with Nyx, Elain spoke up.

"Can I ask something, if you don't mind?"

"Sure Elain." Cassian said as he settled between Mor and Nesta. Everyone had arrived and already taken their seats. Azriel angled his body towards Elain as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Who is the seat on the left side of Rhys's for? Its always empty and no-one sits there."

Cassian smiled as memories flooded him from back when Althea was still living in Velaris with them. How she always loved to bicker with him, but loved him just as much. How, since the first time he had met her, she had always insisted on calling him Cassie, rather than just Cass.

After she had left, it had become an unspoken fact that the seat next to Rhys's was only reserved for Althea.

The flap of wings could be heard but no one paid attention to it as they knew it would be Rhys. They didn't realise there was a second pair of beating wings.

"That seat is for–"

"Me." Someone said from near one of the many balconies. Cassian whipped his head around, and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

There she stood, next to Rhys and Casteel, in a sleeveless turtleneck flowy white gown, grinning at them.

"That is my seat."

Cassian was out of his chair and halfway to Althea before he even realised he had moved. She also moved and the next moment, she had her arms thrown around his neck and he had completely lifted her off the ground.

"Cassian! I swear if you dare drop me– you asshole!" She screeched when he twirled her around. He laughed, but set her down. He flicked her nose and she swatted his hand away. "Well, hello to you too Cassie."

She looked behind him and smiled. "Hello Mor." Althea walked to her and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry–"

"Shh. Its alright." She pulled back to look at Mor and grinned. Then waved her left hand in front of her face. "I'm engaged."

Mor squealed and hugged her again. When they parted, Althea barely had the time to turn before Amren pulled her down for a hug. Althea gaped, looking at Cassian before hugging her back.

"About time you returned, girl." She let go as suddenly as she had grabbed Althea.

Althea grinned, turning to look at others that were gathered. Cassian walked to Rhys while Feyre introduced Althea to her sisters.

"She really is back?"

Rhys shook his head. "I'm not sure."

He glanced at Casteel who stood next to him.

"We might stay for today, and maybe meet frequently, but we are needed at the camp. She helps with the girls' training. I've told her she doesn't have to and that she could stay here, she hasn't decided yet."

Rhys nodded while everyone proceeded to sit at the table, an extra chair next to Althea's having been summoned by the House.

•○🌑○•

Althea's pov

They had moved to a sitting room after the dinner, having brought out Rhys's wine. They were all talking and laughing about some story Cassian was telling, and Althea grinned. She had missed this.

It wasn't as awkward or scary as she thought it would be. And seeing Azriel didn't bother her at all, which she was not really surprised to realise.

She was sitting between Rhys and Casteel, her head on Rhys's shoulder, Feyre next to him with Nyx playing with the ornaments on her chest. Cassian was on the couch next to Casteel, his arm around Nesta. Elain sat next to Nesta, Azriel next to her. Amren and Varian sat on the other couch with Mor.

Everyone fell silent, smiles on their faces, thinking about what to say or do next. Then Cassian spoke up again, serious, as if he were planning a war.

"Let's play truth or dare. If you don't answer or do the dare, you take a shot."

"Alright." Althea sat straighter, while the glasses and liquor appeared and Mor filled all of them up.

"I'll go first." Cassian grinned, turning to Casteel. Althea poked Casteel's back.

"Be prepared. I'm pretty sure he's going to ask what I think he is."

He nodded. "Truth." Raising his wine glass, he took a sip.

"Have you ever measured your wingspan? If yes, how big is it?"

Casteel sputtered, choking on the wine as soon as the question was out of Cassian's mouth. Althea had to pat his back, and he took a deep breath.

"Didn't I tell you how serious these people are regarding wingspans?"

"I didn't realise." He muttered. "No. I haven't ever measured it. Didn't need to."

"Why?" Nesta questioned.

"I know how big parts of me are, which I'm pretty sure is the reason you're asking." This time, Althea choked on the tea that she was drinking, opting out of drinking wine, knowing she couldn't handle it.

Casteel leaned back, grinning while she glared at him. The smug bastard.

Nesta's interest seemed piqued while Mor was grinning too. Cassie had narrowed his eyes, and Elain looked around questioningly. When she turned to Azriel, he looked away.

"Anyway, it's my turn. Thea, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Hmm." As he was wondering what to ask her, Cassian leaned over and whispered something in his ear, making him grin. "What's the most embarrassing thing that has happened in front of someone you were interested in?"

"Drinking. That's all. I drink something, and I do all the embarrassing things imaginable." She paused before continuing. "Only once has me drinking led to anything good."

"And when was that?" Mor asked.

"The night we confessed." She sent a cheeky grin at Cas before turning to Rhys. And so it continued, till it was again Cassie's turn.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to compare your wingspan to the one with the biggest wingspan here. That would unfortunately be Azriel. Not me." He sighed sadly.

"Told you they were obsessed with wingspans." Althea murmured as Casteel stood.

"What do you mean unfortunately?" Azriel grumbled as he walked over and stretched his wings. A measuring tape appeared in front of Cassian and he stood, everyone's focus on the Illyrians stretching their wings.

He started measuring Azriel's wings first, then, saying it out loud, he walked to Casteel, who extended his. Everyone watched with bated breath as Cassian measured it, his eyes widening.

"Holy shit."

"What?" Azriel and Rhys asked simultaneously.

"His is fucking bigger. Two inches, to be precise."

Rhys shot up, walking till he was next to Cassian, gaping when he realised he wasn't lying.

Althea shook her head as all the Illyrians settled back in their places, all of them except Casteel grumbling. When Cassian turned to look at Nesta, she shook her head at him, frowning. Which was not really the best thing to do, as he started arguing and bickering with her. Althea yawned, her eyes drooping.

As the game went on, it was Casteel's turn, making him look at her. "You wanna go sleep?" He asked when he realised she was halfway to falling asleep on Rhys's shoulder. Althea nodded, sitting up straighter. As she announced that she was going to go rest, Casteel stood up. Being mostly tired, but also craving his attention and love, she raised her hands, wanting to be picked up. He raised a brow.

"Come on. I need some affection, alright? You've been ignoring me the whole day."

Casteel grinned, bending to pick her up. "Is that so, princess?" He mumbled in her ear.

"Yes." Her arms wrapped around his neck as his one of his hands went behind her knees and the other braced her back.

"Oh Mother, never thought I'd see something so scandalous!" Mor whisper yelled.

The retort on the tip of Althea's tongue died down as she again nodded of, before she buried her face in Cas's neck.

She had no recollection of what happened next other than hearing everyone deciding to go to sleep and Casteel following Azriel because his and Althea's rooms were pretty close.

•○🌑○•

Casteel set her down on the bed, a set of folded night clothes appearing at the foot of the bed. Casteel helped her change into them, which was code for he dressed her, because she was dozing off the whole time. When he was done with her, he went into the adjoining bathing room to change into his own night clothes. As he came out, he found Althea sleepily reaching for him. He smiled, climbing in next to her and pulling her into his chest, covering the both of them with his wings and falling asleep.

What he didn't realise, was that a fuming spymaster, the one who had been quiet and indifferent throughout the time they had been in Velaris, was hiding in the corner of the room, where the shadows were the thickest, wondering how and why the hell he had rejected the female in Casteel's arms.

•○🌑○•

The wedding was in two days.

Althea was ecstatic. Impatient. But also nervous. Panicked. What if things didn't go as planned? What if something happened? What if Casteel decided he didn't want to be with her?

It was a stupid thought, because everyone knew that would never happen.

They were just finishing some last minute shopping and picking up the wedding outfits, when it happened.

Althea was deep in conversation with Feyre, Mor and Nesta, the men following behind. Elain had chosen to stay back at the River House, tending to her garden, and Amren and Varian were doing whatever they did in their free time at Amren's apartment.

A tiny meowing sound drew Althea's attention, and she peeked around Feyre, finding a tiny white cat shivering in the shade of the building. It looked so scared. Althea pulled away from the group who slowed down and crouched next to the cat, picking it up. It was a boy.

Althea rubbed his head, holding him close till he stopped shivering. Then she stood and turned to Casteel with a pout.

"I can't leave him here Cas. Look at him. He looks so frail. Can I keep him?"

He looked like he wanted to say no, but then he sighed. "You think I can say no?"

Althea squealed, kissing his cheek before whispering in the cats ear that she was taking him home, like one would talk to a child.

"Never realised you wanted a cat." Rhys mused.

"Yeah well, now you know. I think I'll name him Silas." She looked up at him, her eyes meeting Az's in the process of looking back down at Silas.

SNAP.

•○🌑○•

A/n: I know I said I would take some time in posting this as I'm reading the new book in Casteel's series but I felt like not being bad. So here yall go loves.❣️

Taglist: @bubybubsters @Act1839 @we-were-beautiful

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yeahimwiththeband · 4 months

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with the band chapter 19

husband and wife (part 2)

warning: you may briefly develop sympathy for a character you really dislike. A/N: my bitter little toast to the bride and groom. lydia learns what it means to be married to the man she's chosen. if you're just finding this now, i suggest starting at the beginning - or at the lastest, chapter 7. word count: 1.8k

From across the ocean, staring out at the water from California, Lydia could feel her cousin’s worry, and she thought to herself: you don’t know him like I do.

It was her wedding day.

Lydia could hear their guests in their new apartment from the beach—all the heels and the slides on the tile floor, their conversation and clinking glasses bouncing off the mirrors and the marble. Their balcony doors were open, and the reception had almost spilled outside.

Lydia was still wearing her veil, a fine tulle dripping down her back all the way to her ankles, trailing in the water that washed up around her feet. She had her phone in her hand. She was trying to make a call.

She had been trying since 10 o’clock this morning, when the hairdresser had pressed the veil into place.

Lydia stood on the beach barefoot; her shoes were upstairs, at the reception with the band and Ryan and all George’s friends—the ones who were in California, the school friends who wore worn-down Todds and wanted to feel a bit dangerous by hanging out with a real musician (or look it, on their feeds, in photos near a musician). Taking casual reels with Jess Harper casually lounging in the background. She had confirmed the guest list. Like a wife should. She looked down at her ring (huge and not very rock and roll, as Jess pointed out). George had even agreed when she said she didn’t want Dave Novoselic there, that creepy old rock star who always brought needles to every party. The one who brought the bad batch that sent Tara to the hospital. George promised Dave wouldn’t be there; George was on his best behaviour. Like a husband should be. Novoselic had been disinvited, at her request. That was the power Lydia wielded now. She wasn’t just some kid in over her head anymore, or some Penny Lane character hanging on by a thread: they were married. Everything was going to be better. It was a new life, after everything.

Everything had been perfect since Lydia decided to stay in California. She finally called her dad. She had even been home to visit, and had seen Izzy's mom and Mrs. Shepherd. But Lydia couldn’t bring herself to see Izzy.

Hovering at the storefront, Lydia had seen her cousin behind the register; she was so stricken by guilt at the sight that she turned back. After a few panicked messages, Harry cheered her up before he left for Italy: he said Izzy had moved out, had another new job, and was back in school—she only worked at the store on weekends. (Lydia tried to return the favour by not telling Jess where Harry was; she couldn’t keep track of whether they were off or on again or real or not real again. Jess's posts had gotten desperate.)

jessH missing this one today

↳ harrystyles hop on a plane soon babe

larry4ever222 you guys are so cute jk pls breakup

Lydia felt relieved that Izzy was doing better, that she had escaped, that bringing her on the tour had worked—for the most part—but Lydia's guilt stuck to her, like her wet veil against her ankles.

She watched the waves go out and felt the undertow along with it, pulling her white satin slip dress and the pit of her stomach. Her new life in California was so beautiful. Whenever she felt like she was being pulled under, she remembered that first summer on tour and the first time George noticed her. She was shooting content for Jess’s socials and he kept pulling faces at her through the camera. The next day, she found a new phone stand outside her door. Then a new computer and clothes and plane tickets.

Then a ring.

The wedding had been perfect. Except Izzy wasn't there. And Izzy and Harry weren’t together. Lydia believed she had smashed that up too, causing accidents everywhere. She knew her cousin and she knew they couldn’t be together now, after Harry left her like that. But Lydia still wanted to fix it.

Maybe she could still fix it. She had a plan.

A car horn from the road behind their building jolted her out of her haze, and back into another memory. A little bar, in nowhere New Brunswick, at the beginning of Jess Harper's second, tiny tour. The summer after she had turned 18, the summer it all happened.

The audience consisting of the celtic band—including a bagpiper who had fallen asleep—going on after them, Tara’s parents, and a bachelorette party that was half unconscious. Lydia found an angle in the corner of the bar, pressed up against the window, where she could shoot the crowd to make it look like an actual crowd. She had to get more people in to see their shows, or the next venue would cancel and Ryan would walk. Lydia could stare at her shots of George pulling faces for hours, but they weren’t working. She leaned back, trying to make the seven heads in front of her look like 70.

She heard a car horn too close and glass sprayed across her skirt: she turned to see that a driver had tapped the side of the building, sliding too far into his parking spot. The tap cracked the window. Lydia leapt up and burst into tears, even though she wasn’t hurt. She ran to the back of the bar, past the kitchen, and outside, to the laneway behind the bar, and George followed her. He thought she was injured. He thought she should go to the hospital. She couldn’t stop crying.

“Did the glass cut you?” George asked, circling around her. He pulled up her sweater a bit where glass still clung to it, but Lydia swatted his hand away.

“I’m okay,” Lydia said. “I just need a minute. You can go back inside.”

“Must have scared you,” George said. He reached out and Lydia turned away. She was breathing deeply, in and out. “It’s not really like you, Lyds, to keep anything hidden.”

“Not this,” Lydia said.

“Not what?”

Lydia shook her head.

"You always tell the truth," George said.

“I’ve done some… I’ve done some fucking awful things.”

“So have I,” George said, smiling, countering her grave tone with levity. It didn't work: Lydia’s eyes sank down to the floor.

“I’m not like you guys,” Lydia replied. “I’m here because I ran away.”

“Lydia, me too. We’re more alike than—"

“No, no we’re not. I’m alone. I’m alone with what I’ve done.”

“What you’ve done?” George asked.

“And you should know. You know what? You should know about it. I should wear like, a button or a sash or something,” Lydia said, gesturing across her chest, “with the crime written on it, so everyone who comes in contact with me knows, so I’m not lying every minute of every day that I spend with anybody. I caused a.… There was a car accident, and I was driving. I was trying—I thought I was a good driver. I was paying attention. But we still crashed.”

“Is that how—“

“Yes, that’s how I lost my mom. Because I felt like driving that day.”

“Lydia, you have to know that it’s not—“

“Don’t say it. I’ve heard it before. It doesn’t—it’s not true, so it doesn’t sink in.”

George’s shoulders dropped. He wanted to reach out, but she kept swatting him away.

“And then I left my dad at home.”

“Sometimes, you have to take care of yourself,” George offered.

Lydia shook her head.

“I’m a messy person,” she said, her voice low. “I’m a toxic person.”

“I’m messy too,” George said.

Lydia backed further away from him. Her back hit the door. George stepped toward her. Lydia wouldn’t meet his eyes. She looked at her feet, at the pavement.

“There’s no way anybody could ever want me,” Lydia stammered. “There’s no way you could ever want me.”

“I want you,” George said. “I want you.”

And that was it.

Lydia pulled her veil up out of the water and glanced at her buzzing phone. Harry had sent a dozen texts since she posted announcing that she and George were married. He was in Italy; it was the middle of the night there. But Lydia couldn’t bring herself to message him back.

What would she say?

What could she say to Izzy?

Lydia had done everything to make Izzy happy, even saying nothing and swearing everyone to secrecy when George became infatuated with her—briefly—on tour. Lydia just wanted to keep her on the tour and away from that store she hated so much, and she thought she could stand it—the sight of them together—if Izzy really loved him.

Of course, at the time, Lydia didn’t know she would be here just a few months later, on the beach, in her wedding dress, with George in a tux upstairs. But no one could have stopped her.

Jess had told Lydia not to go through with it just a few days ago at the recording studio. From behind the microphone, Jess noticed an bright prism of light against the walls of the control room, and the distraction almost made her miss the hook. She traced the light back to a rock on Lydia's ring finger, dropped her headphones, and raced out of the live room in the middle of her verse, pulling Lydia out into the hallway.

“Lydia,” Jess said, gripping her wrist and smiling in spite of herself. "Tell me you didn't."

“We’re crazy, I know.”

"This is serious."

Lydia giggled.

“George is a propeller, a sharp propeller, going at full speed. Don’t walk into the propeller, Lydia."

Lydia smiled. “But the propeller speaks to me in soothing tones.”

Jess dropped her wrist and laughed.

Lydia kept going: “The propeller tells me I’m a good person and we can run away together.”

“Oh, Lydia.”

Lydia shrugged. Jess rolled her eyes and they laughed.

From the beach, Lydia could hear that laugh.

She locked her phone screen and picked up the hem of her dress. Izzy would be fine, Lydia thought to herself, because she had a plan to get her back together with Harry. She conceived the plan after George proposed and put it in motion during her visit to her dad, when she convinced Mrs. Shepherd to leave Izzy that house in Italy, and then convinced Harry that region was the perfect place for him to dry out. With the wedding out of the way, the next phase of her plan could go ahead.

“Where did you go?” George said when she re-entered their apartment, leaping up from his seat.

Jess smiled warily and everyone at the table clinked their glasses. George grabbed Lydia around the waist and she sunk into him, wanting to drown in him. They kissed and everyone clapped. Lydia beamed. She was exactly where she was supposed to be. Everything was beautiful, and George had paid for every detail: the ceiling was so heavy with flowers they kept falling, full blooms landing like grenades on the table to giggles from all the guests.

She sat down next to George and Jess raised her glass to her, looking skeptical (as always). Lydia gulped down her champagne and George squeezed his hand around her waist, burying his face in her hair to bite her neck. Lydia laughed: was this the happiest she would ever feel? Could she and George feel like this every day?

“To the bride and groom!” Lydia recognized the voice and snapped her eyes toward it. It was Dave Novoselic, chucking back something clear, seated at the head of the table. He had joined the reception while she was downstairs, stepping out to make a phone call that she couldn't actually make.

“He saw the post and wanted to come—I didn’t know what to do,” George said, running a finger up Lydia’s neck. Dave wiped his mouth and winked at Lydia before turning back to Ryan.

Lydia smiled and took another long drink. It was her wedding day, and she would stay happy, no matter what.

next chapter ->

#harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #love on tour imagine #love on tour fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles romance #harry styles fluff #harry styles au

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animation-recaps-by-sean · 1 year

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Gravity Falls beyond the Woods Chapter 12

Dipper and Wendy deal with the fall out of their missing kids, while the kids find themselves caught in a war of paranormal beings.

<-prev next ->

The hot water ran down Wendy’s body. She should properly get out lest her husband think she’d drowned. Her kids, she lost her kids. She shut off the water and dried herself with a towel. She tugged on her jeans and buttoned up her flannel. When she walked back into the room her husband was on the phone.

“That was Ford,” Dipper told her after hanging up. “He and Stan are on their way. How are you holding up?”

At the far end of their hotel room, there was a sliding glass door with a balcony. Wendy walked out on to it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared. Not in the bunker, not during weirdmaggedon. Dipper, what if we never see them again?”

Dipper followed her out there. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head against her shoulder. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. Rose and Ty can take care of themselves. They’re tough. Like their mom.” Wendy placed her hand on his, and they stood there for a minute. When they went back inside Dipper asked. “Did your mom ever talk about spells or fairies? Even if it seemed like bedtime stories at the time?”

Wendy’s expression darkened with anger. “Dipper, please don’t tell me you think my mom might have been magic.”

“Look, I understand you have feelings about your mom, but I’ve seen too much stuff to dismiss it out of hand.”

“Look, my mom was just a shitty lady who ditched us, nothing more.”

Dipper sighed. “Wendy, she had a cursed bracelet that summoned the faire.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! She probably just bought them in a garage sale or something. What about those magic wax statues that Stan bought? Did that mean he was a master of magic wax?”

“He was building a stargate in his basement!”

“But that had nothing to do with the magic wax!”

Dipper felt he should deescalate the situation. “Look, we’re tired and frustrated. We’re not gonna help the kids like this. Let’s try to get some rest before Stan and Ford arrive tomorrow.”

They both climb into the bed. Neither of them got any sleep.

Meanwhile their daughter was trying to find a way to save her and her friends. Rose was shaking the bars to see if she could get anything loose. Even her Corduroy strength couldn’t move the bars and that was saying something. Her brother was on the other end of the cell, looking at the wall.

“Hey Rose?” Ty shouted out.

“Kinda busy here,” Rose grunted as she pushed against the bars fruitlessly.

“Do these grooves in the wall kinda look like a face?”

Rose turned around and walked over to her brother. “I guess, but we have other things to worry about.”

“But considering where we are, maybe it’s an actual face?”

"You kids know the sad tale of King Arthur right?" They all turned around to see Puck, about the size of a human adult, leaning against the bars.

Rose thought about everything she ever read about fairy lore, which wasn’t much. “Robin Goodfellow?”

"No, no, no. Puck is a title to those who serve the royal family directly. I’m a new Puck. Robin died a long time ago.” Her eyes grew sad. “Not like the Once and Future King. Stabbed to near death by his own nephew, he was brought here on the promise of healing and was put in a deep sleep. You see, the queen wished to have a human leader in her debt. But with the queen's attention what it is, she missed most of English history and poof, the monarchy was reduced to a bunch of mascots."

"What does this have to do with our cell?"

"Well with nothing to do with the sleeping king, her majesty decided to put him to use redecorating."

The stone face eyes flew open, revealing the terrified eyes of the once great king. At that moment the whole place shook. The kids screeched, Ashley picked up Stanley.

Puck looked up. "They're here," the faire hissed. As the fairy flew up. The room shook so hard the bars fell out. The kids looked at each other and scrambled out. When they made their way out to the clearing, the kids saw metal death machines raining fire down on the fairies.

"What the heck are these?" Ashley shouted.

Rose turned to her brother. "We've seen these before!"

Ty was less sure. "We have?"

"Yeah, in Dad's old journal. It's those alien robot things."

Ashley was having a time. "Wait, so not only are fairies real, but so are aliens."

"Yeah, Gravity Falls was built on a crashed UFO. And these things are left over from it. Don't worry, their sensors are only designed to pick up fear. Watch."

Rose stepped forward and firmly planted her feet onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her thoughts. 'No fear. No fear.' She thought to herself. She did it, she was calm. She stared down the metallic beast… and a large claw reached out and grabbed her.

"Aaaaaaagh," She screamed flailing about. "No fear! No fear!"

Puck, now about the size of a butterfly, appeared on her shoulder. "They've been reprogrammed." Her tone was dull. She was looking at her fingernails too.

"How?" Was all Rose's lungs could get out.

"Some fool we call the Homunculus. Nasty piece of work. Wants to rule all magical creatures. All hulled up in that starship buried in the mortal realm."

Rose angrily slammed her fist against the claw that was holding her. “Can’t you do anything about this?”

“Well, we’re trying. But these beasts are made of steel. While not pure iron, which burns us if we touch it and is immune to our magic, it still hurts to touch and our magic is weak against it.”

“Peachy,” Rose said through gritted teeth. Think, think, think! Her heart was thumping. She was definitely afraid again. The claw tightened against her body. She could hear Tyrone, Ashley, and Stanley screaming below her. She was going to die. She was going to-

The bracelet on her wrist started to glow. With a flash, Rose was holding a sword. It was a long and elegant rapier like the ones she uses in fencing. Although this one seemed much sharper. The guard was adorned with amethysts much like her bracelet.

Shocked, Rose dropped the sword but reached out while it fell. With a flash it was back in her. A quick slash showed Rose it was much, much sharper than it looked. It sliced through the steel like butter. The robot started to explode and Rose started to fall.

"Aaaaaah!" She shouted as she plunged to her death. But before she splat, she landed on another robot shooting flames at several fairies. She sliced that one in two and fell on her butt. This one was closer to the ground.

The robots started to notice the girl destroying them and another came for her firing bullets. Rose screamed again, running serpentine to avoid them. She spun around and stabbed the machine as it came close enough. When her new sword pierced it, it started to spark.

After the last explosion, the rest fled. Ty ran to his sister. "Rose what the hell was that?"

Ashley wasn't far beyond. "Yeah that was something." Little Stanley was vibrating with excitement.

The fairy queen and Puck hovered over the humans. "So that's where Excalibur went," Puck mused. The Queen shushed her.

She turned her attention to Rose. "It seems my dear human, that the bracelet that adorns your body was forged from the broken pieces of Excalibur; it was shattered during the King's final battle. I kept the pieces for sometime but they were stolen from me a long time ago."

Rose looked at the sword. "Excalibur was a rapier?"

"No," Puck explained. "The sword is enchanted. It takes the form best suited to its wielder. Had your mother gotten the bracelet, it would have taken the form of an ax."

Titantia smiled. "Perhaps we can help each other. With Excalibur reawakened, surely its wielder can defeat the Homunculus. Puck tells me you found the bracelet looking for your missing grandmother, yes?”

“How did she-?”

“It is Puck's job to keep an eye out on the happenings in the human land. And she tells me your mother’s maiden name is Corduroy. Is this true?”

“Y-yes.”

The Queen smiled a toothy grin. “Well it just so happens I have this.” She pulled out a cylinder with Mrs. Corduroy written on it. “A while ago, I…purchased this from a man in a red robe.”

Rose eyes grew with excitement. Ashley, on the other hand, was very confused. “What is that thing?” She whispered to Tyrone.

“A memory. Back before the ‘Never Mind All That Law’, the supernatural creatures were hidden by a cult called the Society of the Blind Eye. They erased the town memories repeatedly until our parents and your mom realized that it was giving the whole town brain damage.”

“That…makes sense.”

Queen Titantia spun the tube around her fingers. “I never got around to watching the memories on here, but you might find the subject more interesting. So how about it? Slay my enemy, and I’ll give your grandmother’s secrets. Deal?”

“Deal.”

#gravity falls #wendip #fanfic #wendy courderoy #dipper pines #ocs #gravity falls fanfiction

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years

Text

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 20

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2452

Warnings: Talk about death and terminal illness

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Chasing Cars Head Above Water

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Rooster

The day had started on a sour note with the thought of having to fly a near-impossible course while knowing no matter how well he did on it, Maverick wouldn't choose him for the mission to 'protect' him. Then, to have the day go as it did with dogfight football, the laughter and camaraderie, and the flirtatious conversations he'd had with Juliette, Rooster couldn't have imagined a better end. He still felt horrible about leaving the bruise on Jules's hip. When she'd stepped in front of Rooster to stop him from going after Hangman, he'd grabbed onto her waist as a way to silently ground himself, to remind him that as long as Juliette was there, he couldn't do anything because if a physical altercation between the two men occurred, she absolutely would've held no regard for her safety and stepped in to break them up. She would've risked getting hurt by either one of them, and that's the last thing Rooster wanted, although he'd ended up hurting anyways...

The group, as always, gathered around the pool table. Coyote and Phoenix chose to talk to Juliette and Rooster, who stood so close that their arms pressed into each other, almost like they were leaning into one another. Maybe they were. Rooster was still shocked from her insinuation at their sex life earlier, and he hadn't been able to get it off his mind since. Had they not been in public, Rooster might've pulled her into another kiss he'd been dying to give her since the other night.

These Boots Were Made for Walking blared next to Rooster, causing both him and Juliette to jump. She swiftly pulled out her phone and said, "I need to take this. I'll be back."

She hurried out the door, hitting answer on her way. Rooster briefly overheard her say "Hey, Mom" before the noise of the crowd drowned her out. Not thinking anything of it, Rooster continued chatting with Phoenix and Coyote, avoiding anything to do with the mission. None of them wanted to stress over it tonight when they had the remaining two and a half weeks to do that. Instead, they chatted about their squadrons, antics on their carriers, stories of when they'd come home from deployment, and everything else that brought a smile to their faces.

However, as ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty, Rooster noticed Juliette had failed to rejoin them. Concerned, he excused himself from the group and made his way outside. Juliette sat on a bench at the far end of the balcony, staring at her phone.

Rooster approached hesitantly, unsure if she wanted space or not. "You okay?"

"Hmm?" Juliette looked up at him, somewhat dazed. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just got off the phone with my mom, is all."

Rooster took a seat next to her. "I know it's been a long time, but I can still tell when you're not 'fine.' What is it?"

She shook her head. "It's fine, really. Besides, you're having a good day. I don't want to bring you down with what's going on with me."

"I care more about you than anything else. Talk to me, Jules."

He watched Juliette fiddle with her phone for a few seconds, turning it over and over in her hands before she finally spoke in an eerily calm voice, "Dad took a bad turn tonight. Mom told me I should maybe start preparing myself."

Of all things she could've said, that was one of the last Rooster expected. A coldness settled over him, the dread of the impending death of yet another person he loved. He'd purposefully pushed people away in his life to avoid going through this again. It'd been hard enough losing his mom and becoming an orphan at eighteen. Maverick might as well have been dead to him over the past decade, and he'd lost a close friend right after his breakup with Jules, which played a part in him not returning to her. Rooster hadn't wanted to mourn anyone again, nor did he want people to mourn him if he died, to go through the grief. Yet, here he was, the heartache already setting in at the mere idea of losing Tom Kazansky, a man he hadn't seen in close to ten years, yet the feelings were as strong as ever. And here he was, getting close to Juliette before a death-defying mission, one he wouldn't be chosen for, but nonetheless, the stress and anxiety it induced were enough to make even the most level-headed people like Juliette on edge.

"I'm sorry," Rooster said, the words sounding less than comforting coming out of his mouth. He knew better than most that nothing anyone said or did could help with the knowledge that one day, and one day soon, a person you loved would die. "Do you want me to give you a ride home so you can be with them?"

Juliette smiled softly, shaking her head. "No, thank you, though. I actually told my mom when she called that I'd come over now, but I received a text from Dad a few seconds later telling me to stay out and have fun with everyone. I don't even know how he texted so fast when the man types with just his pointer fingers still. Dad is also strangely scarier when he doesn't speak."

Juliette leaned back, staring out over the beach and at the black horizon, her gaze distant. "I remember when the first time he was diagnosed with the cancer. It was about a year after you and I broke up. I was terrified of losing him. It's actually why I called you that day. I figured if anyone could understand, it'd be you."

Rooster's heart sank to his stomach. "Jules, I-"

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty," she interrupted gently, patting his thigh reassuringly. He placed his hand atop hers, lacing their fingers together. "I knew it was a long shot trying to reach you after what happened. And you did call me back, I just had my assbutt of a boyfriend at the time in my house when you did."

"Assbutt?" Rooster repeated, unable to help the amusement edging his tone. "Was he the cheater?"

"Yeah. Antonio Cerrillo. I'll give him credit where credit is due, though, because he was good to me while Dad went through chemo."

A flood of guilt rushed through Bradley. He couldn't help but think he should've been the one to comfort her, to be there for her. If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly, he would've. Juliette, however, not noticing Rooster's grimacing, continued. "Dad went into remission a few months after. We'd caught it early enough that the chemo worked wonders. About three years went by with nothing, and then, suddenly, it was back. It was worse the second time around, and it took two years before the doctors said they couldn't see any remnants of it. That chemo treatment was extremely tough on both Dad and Mom. Dad because he was the one going through it, and Mom because she cared for him day and night. She went forty-eight hours without sleeping once because she was so upset and stressed over making sure Dad was okay because he went through a nasty rough patch during an already horrible chemo treatment. I made her get some sleep and took some time off work to care for him. Once he moved past that second diagnosis, I thought that was it. It's Dad, after all. He's invincible. Like Maverick. He fended off six enemy aircraft until Mav could come to his rescue. How many aviators can say that?"

"None that I know of," Rooster replied, quickly running through the list in his head.

"And then, right before you got here, we found out it'd come back. As you already know, it's terminal..." Juliette trailed off, falling silent and clenching her jaw. Rooster waited for her to gather herself because he recognized she wanted to cry but was doing everything she could to prevent the tears from forming or falling. It took a couple of minutes before it happened. Juliette's voice was barely above a whisper as she said, "I think I've been in denial. I thought maybe the doctor's made a mistake with their terminal diagnosis or that he'd be a miracle case and would live despite everything, defy all expectations like he always does, but I know now. I know I don't have long with him, and now I'm torn between listening to him and making him happy by staying out with all of you or going home and spending time with him before I can't anymore."

"What if I went home with you?" Rooster offered, regretting the words the moment they came out of his mouth. Why would she want him around after he'd abandoned her? This was her family anyway, not his. Not anymore. Rooster lost that privilege when he eliminated them from his life all those years ago.

Juliette shook her head. "No, you should stay here and enjoy your night. I'll catch an Uber back home and-"

Rooster shook his head and cut her off. "Juliette, you were there for me when my mom was dying. Let me be here for you."

"You have so much on your plate right now. You have training and the mission to worry about, and I need you to focus on that. I need you to-" Juliette's voice hitched momentarily- "I need you to put everything you have into acing what Maverick throws at you because my gut tells me you're going on that mission and if you don't come back..."

"Jules-"

"I can't have your funeral too, Rooster."

Although he didn't believe her instinct about being chosen for the mission, Bradley still couldn't let her panic. He couldn't have her grieving over him, too, especially when there was nothing and would be nothing to grieve about. "You won't. I will come back to you this time. I promise."

Juliette finally looked over at him, sorrow etched onto her face, but she managed to smile appreciatively at him. "I'm going to hold you to that, Lieutenant."

"I want you to." Rooster lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "Do you want to go back inside? Or do you want me to give you a ride home?"

Juliette checked the time on her phone. "It's only eight... maybe stay for another hour, appease my dad, and then give me a ride home?"

"You got it, boss." Rooster stood up, helping Juliette along the way. Before he could move, she embraced him in a brief, tight hug, which he willingly returned. She kissed him on the cheek as she pulled away, prompting him to ask, "What was that for?"

Juliette shrugged. "For being you and being there for me just now. I'm sorry for putting such a damper on your night."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me what was happening." Rooster held out his hand. "Shall we?"

Juliette took it, and the two of them re-entered the Hard Deck. They ordered drinks from the bar before rejoining their friends. Juliette noticeably stayed glued to Rooster's side, but he hardly minded. He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible because who knew when the next time would be that they could see each other after the mission?

Around nine, the aviators, exhausted from the long day of dogfight football and realizing they would resume regular training tomorrow, decided to call it a night. Rooster drove Juliette to her house, where they said hello to Maria and Firefly and waited for the girls' Ubers to pick them up before rounding up Raptor and Lightning into the back of Rooster's Bronco and heading to the Kazansky household.

Sarah opened the door, surprise showing in her red-tinged eyes. She'd been crying, of that, Rooster had no doubt. The Kazanksy matriarch inquired, "What are you two doing here? I wasn't expecting-"

"Everyone else retired for the night, and I wanted to come hang out with you and Dad. Rooster was kind enough to go through the trouble of picking up the dogs on the way here."

"It was no trouble at all," Rooster assured, bending down and scratching Raptor and Lightning behind their ears. The dogs leaned happily into him. "I'm sure you need to get back to base, but you're welcome to stay for a bit," Sarah offered.

"I wouldn't want to intrude. I'm sure you'd like to spend time as a family."

"You're family too, no matter what's happened," she insisted.

"I should probably get back to base and get some rest for tomorrow. I promised someone I'd come back from this mission-" Rooster glanced over at Juliette, flashing her a small smile- "so I need to make sure I'm rested for tomorrow to be at the top of my game. Rain check?"

"Of course. It's good to see you, honey." Sarah gave him a motherly hug, then left the former lovers alone.

"Thank you again for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow?" Juliette queried, pulling her jacket sleeves over her hands and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Jules." Rooster leaned down and pecked her cheek despite his heart and his head shouting furiously at him to pull Juliette into a passionate kiss to make her forget all her woes and worries, if just for a short period of time.

"Good night, Bradley." Juliette entered the house and shut the door. Hands in his pockets, Rooster shuffled to his car. He drove back to base, although he didn't remember much of the ride there, his mind too preoccupied with Juliette and with Iceman's turn for the worse.

When he arrived to his room, Rooster got ready for bed, taking a shower, throwing on some sweatpants, and brushing his teeth. He sank onto his bed but didn't lay down right away. Instead, Rooster opened his nightstand drawer, pulling out a small box of keepsakes containing his most prized and sentimental possessions. Inside resided only five things: a picture of him, his parents, and Maverick when his dad was at Top Gun; his high school graduation ring, a gift from Maverick; his dad's naval academy ring; his mom's wedding ring; and a silver locket. It was the last item he pulled out. Rooster hesitated, wondering if its original owner would want it back after all this time. He rubbed his thumb over the familiar anchor embedded on the front before flipping it over and reading the inscription he longed to say to Juliette again: India Lima Yankee.

***

Tags: @lgg5989@shanimallina87@polikszena@summ3rlotus@souslesyeuxde@gleasonmalfoy@icemansgirl1999@supernaturaldawning@thedarkinmansfield@lyannaforpresident@lapilark@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth@simpofthecentury @blueeyes-blueskye @gleasonmalfoy @armyx78 @always-abigails-blog

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arcanesilcofan · 2 years

Text

Part 3

It was now another day, you got up from your couch out the door heading towards the last drop.

You headed upstairs towards silcos office where you saw him and jinx talking.

[Sighs]

[Silco] The world's growing smaller every day, Thanks to the hexgates. And now, we're cut off. The topsiders are leaving us further and further behind. What happend?

[Jinx] she already told you.

[Silco] I'm asking you.

You sat there as you watched Jinx jumped from the ceiling onto his desk which made a thud.

[Jinx] One of those firelight wackos was a girl. With pink hair.

[Silco] hmm...

Silco then turned around in his chair handing the golden syringe to jinx so she could help him. She got closer to him so she could help with his eye.

[Silco] Your sister's gone. you know that as well as I do.

[Jinx] I know. I know. Sisters, right?

[Jinx chuckled]

[Jinx] You can't live with 'em, can't stuff 'em back in the ol' babymaker.

You looked confused and scared jinx obviously didn't know how babies are made.

[Silco] today's screw-up will set us back weeks.

Jinx leaned up against silcos chair next to him.

[Jinx] I'm sorry.

[Silco] I need to know that I can rely on you.

Jinx was sort of just messing around while listening to him.

[Silco] I'm doing this for us, Jinx. All of us thr sons and daughters of Zaun deserve more that their runoff.

He the let go of her wrist as she rubbed it.

[Jinx] it won't happen again.

She held the hold syringe item up to his eye.

[Silco] I know.

It then pierced at his black molten eye, he jolted in pain as the purple liquid flowed down his eye.

You watched as you winced at the sight knowing that had to be painful.

Silco leaned forwards as he sighed.

[Silco] Sevika and y/n will clean up today's mess.

[Jinx] Sevika? That ogre couldn't clean a dust bunny with a blowtorch, y/n could probably do better than her.

[Silco] she'll suffice. You should focus on your gadgetry.

Jinx laid down on his desk with a groan causing silco to look at her.

[Silco] take some time.

[Jinx] i-i Don't need time.

Jinx stammered at her own words.

Silco looked away his back towards her.

[Silco] take it anyhow.

Jinx got up from his desk in a hurry leaving silco alone.

You pushed the door open facing silco.

[Y/n] so I'm guessing me and sevika have some cleaning to do.

Silcos eyes widened as he turned around to face you.

[Silco] I see you're finally here, are you finally willing to work now.

You stood there still clearly angry at yesterday.

[Y/n] ugh, yes I'm willing to work again.

Silco had a smirk on his face as he pulled out some paper work.

[Silco] Good, You're my top gaurd letting you leave would be a great mistake.

Silco didn't mind you're presence near him, you might have been one of his somewhat favorites the only reason for that is you sometimes gave him hard times but most of the time you corporated with him.

But anyway on to jayce and Mel now.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

The council was having a little party as celebration for the day of progress the room was filled with people.

Mel raised a golden cup to an old woman before Turning around on the balcony

Elora walked up next to Mel.

[Elora] Fundraiser's going well. Your mother would be proud.

Elora looked at Mel while saying that.

[Mel] Hmm... would she?

She questioned Elora

Mel and her mom Don't have the best relationship sort of like Caitlyn and her mom except her mom didn't push her away.

[Elora] Tired of mingling? She asked Mel

[Mel] Hmm. These people have nothing new to offer me. The only one actually worth my time is him. Mel looked at a giant air craft in the sky with Jayce's face on the side.

[Elora] the golden boy. She chuckled ah, he's won piltovers heart. Oh, speak of the devil.

Mel and Elora both turned around to see Jayce, who currently has everyone's eyes on him.

Elora waved at Jayce motioning him to come over there, which he did walking towards the two on the balcony where the sun was setting.

Jayce walked up to Mel.

[Jayce] Could I borrow you for a minute? He asked Mel who looked a bit surprised.

She followed behind jayce leaving Elora alone on the balcony.

Jayce and Mel were now in the library.

[Mel] To what do I owe the pleasure?

[Jayce] it's Heimerdinger.

Mel scoffs as the two walked around the room.

[Mel] when is it not?

[Jayce] we've shown him our research. He thinks we need more time.

Mel leaned up against the table.

[Mel] it's progress day. Representatives from all over the world. Have come to see what new wonders the city of progress has to offer. If there's a tome to present a new creation, it is now.

Jayce sighs knowing Mel is right about this.

[Jayce] great. Jayce sounded a bit annoyed with the whole ordeal.

While Mel leans against the table chuckling.

[Mel] Heimerdinger is a great scientist. But he's old. He only ever sees the past. Piltover needs a leader who looks forward. Someone like you.

[Jayce] you really believe that? He questioned Mel

[Mel] hextech has the potential to change everything. She turned around pointing to the smaller version of Piltover.

[Mel] the world is ready. And I've already spoken to several potential investors.

[Jayce] investors? He asked confused by what Mel meant.

[Mel] of course. Chuckles everyone wants hextech for themselves. It's your speech. Give the people a glimpse of the future.

After that conversation Mel left the room leaving jayce there.

Now let's see what jinx is up to!

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Jinx was busy throwing her grenades off of the edge of her lair or room whatever it is. Jinx held onto the grenade she had already pulled the clip off.

[Jinx] it wasn't her.

She dropped the little bird like grenade on the floor as she panicked.

[Jinx] it wasn't! She then kicked the grenade off the edge as it had just exploded.

[Jinx] I know. Just... just some wannabe street trash. I got confused, that's all. Now, he thinks I'm weak. "Sevika will clean it up." Sevika's a regular Johnny-on-the-spot. I'm not weak!

The voices chatterd in her head as she got a sick idea

[Jinx] and I'm gonna show him. Oh, I'm gonna show him. You'll see.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

The crowd was cheering as they waited for Jayce speech, Viktor sat there waiting for jayce.

[Viktor] where were you? They were asking if I could do the address.

[Jayce] you should come up with me. We're partners.

[Viktor] No, no. Not in front of all of them... you... have your speech prepared?

All Viktor heard from jayce was uh-huh as he watched him walk away.

[Mrs. Kiramman] An inspiration to piltover's future and that of all humanity. Please join me in welcoming to the stage... Jayce Talis.

Jayce turned around to Viktor.

[Jayce] guess it's time.

Jayce took a sip from his cup before going out on stage.

The crowd cheerd as jayce stepped out onto the stage.

While that was happening, Caitlyn was out on duty doing her normal patrol

[Jayce] uh good evening. I know many of you probably didn't expect to see me here today. And believe me, I'm just as shocked as you are.

The crowd applaud as he said those words.

Jayce sat him clip board down reading it on the stand infront of him.

[Jayce] My family and I are simple people. In our factory, we made hammers. They were probably used to cut the stones you're standing on right now.

As Jayce said those words he saw how proud his mother looked in the crowd of people.

[Jayce] No one in my life expected very much of me. And that is precisely what makes this moment so extraordinary. A few years ago, the hexgates opened their ports to the world and made piltover prosper beyond anything we could have ever imagined.

The crowd of people stood up and began to cheer for him.

[Jayce] But... we're not done yet.

In the back Viktor was about to pull the lever waiting for jayce to motion him to.

[Jayce] this year, we've created something new for you. Something that... um...

Viktor waiting patiencetly for the signal.

[Jayce] that we will share with you...when the time is right.

Everyone in the crowd was muttering and talking.

[Jayce] things that will put an end to your hardships. Whether you're the scion of our high houses, or an honest laborer from the underground. We vow to keep pressing forward, for we are the city of progress. And our future is bright.

The crowd cheers happily as fireworks went off in the back outside.

Meanwhile with Caitlyn and the other enforcer.

[Duty captain] that it, then? I thought that talis boy was kind of genius. Last year, didn't he launch a blimp halfway across the continent?

[Caitlyn] Airship, actually. An airship has a rigid metal hull. It's not a blimp.

[Duty captain] it's a balloon, ain't it?

Another enforcer said sure as hell looks that way.

[Duty captain] Pardon us, if we aren't quite so refined as you, milady.

[Female enforcer] what are you even doing here, kiramman? Don't you have a cocktail party to attend?

All the other enforcers laughed at her joke while Caitlyn didn't mind that much, she then turned her head and saw fire.

[Caitlyn] Fire. Fire!

This caused all the other enforcers who were on duty to act fast, at the scene.

[enforcer 2] what's happening?

[Caitlyn] get the fire brigade!

Caitlyn ran to get the fire extinguisher.

The other enforcers heard a voice inside the fire.

[Baby voice] help. In here, please. Help me.

The enforcers ran inside without a second to think while Caitlyn took care of the fire.

[Baby voice] help. It's so hot, please. I'm trapped.

More enforcers ran to help Caitlyn put out the fire.

[Baby voice] I'm a helpless little girl, and I've set the building on fire.

The voice changed into jinxs voice.

[Altered voice] by accident. Totally by accident.

As Caitlyn finished putting the fire out she saw jinxs calling and dropped the fire extinguisher

[Caitlyn] get out. Now!

[Altered voice] also, I brought this dynamite. Goodbye.

An explosion happend possibly killing the enforcers inside the place, while Caitlyn got flinged back.

Caitlyn struggled to get up but she caught a blurry glimpse of jinx heading inside a building before passing out.

[Viktor] the gemstone is gone. Along with some of our research papers.

Jinx stole the gemstone by causing an explosion as a distraction so she could steal the stone without getting caught.

[Marcus] The situation is still developing. No one in the undercity has claimed responsibility yet.

[Heimerdinger] how did it come to this?

[Hoskel] Hmm. For too long has the underground been left unchecked.

[Shoola] we've lost touch. They may not be your preferred constituents, but they're still our people.

[Mrs. Kiramman] the undercity cannot be controlled. Not by us.

[Salo] so where does that leave us?

Bolbok was muttering something.

[Bolbok] Mr. Talis could rhe trenchers build a weapon with the stolen crystal?

[Hoskel] Shimmer, body replacements... we've seen their ingenuity over the years, of course, they can.

Jayce stood up from hid seat.

[Jayce] if the right person got a hold of it, it's possible they could utilize its energy.

[Mrs. Kiramman] we need to address this immediately.

Viktor was about to get up before jayce stopped him.

[Jayce] I agree. It was my responsibility to safeguard this technology and I failed. My mistake cost people their lives. I have come before you to recommend that we suspended all hextech operations until the situation is resolved. Including out laboratories, the refinery and the hexgates.

[Hoskel] have you lost your mind?!

[Shoola] the hexgates must remain open. Piltover's status as a global shipping lane depends on it. Thousands would lose their income.

[Jayce] But shouldn't the safety of piltover be our first priority?

[Heimerdinger] you would sacrifice your life's work?

[Hoskel] without the hexgates, my goods cannot reach foreign markets till winter. Am I to tell the noxians their next shipment of wine will be vinegar?

[Mel] councilors. It appears we are at an impasse. If we shut down the hexgates, the city will suffer. But if we do nothing, we leave ourselves Vulnerable to malefactors. More lives may be lost. Perhaps the time has come to explore a more radical solution.

[Mrs. Kiramman] what are you suggesting?

There was a bit of silence before Mel answered.

[Mel] Mr. Talis has demonstrated his commitment to our safety. He's willing to sacrifice his own enterprise. And it seems ro me only Mr. Talis had the knowledge necessary to secure the hexgates. I propose that a new chair be brought forth. And that house tails be elevated to this August body.

[Jayce] what?

[Mel] as a councilor, he will have fhe resources necessary to protect all out investments.

[Shoola] councilor Medarda, this is highly irregular. The council has held seven seats for generations.

[Bolbok] does the boy have any experience?

[Mel] only that of a scientist like Heimerdinger.

Heimerdinger looked down as he sighed.

[Heimerdinger] I believe councilor medarda is right. Hextech security should be administered by a scientist. I second the motion.

[Mel] well then shall we vote?

Meanwhile with jinx!

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Jinx was listening to some music while she did her work.

[Silco] Jinx!

She couldn't hear silco.

[Silco] Jinx!

Again she couldn't hear him since the music was too loud.

[Silco] Jinx!

Silco slammed his fist down on the table stopping the music.

[Jinx] that's me!

[Silco] half a dozen enforcers, dead. Enforcers. Dead.

Jinx watched with a smile on her face.

[Jinx] yeah...

[Silco] a building blown to pieces.

Jinx chuckled as she laid her head down on the table messing with something.

[Jinx] oh, yeah.

Silco snatched the item out of her hand clearly angry at what she has done.

[Silco] Do you have any idea what you've done!

[Jinx] actually, I do.

She pulled out the gemstone showing silco it, before hanging it to him.

She stood up giggling as she pulled a lever making fireworks go off.

[Jinx] Happy progress day!

The fireworks blew up pink,blue and yellow fireworks went off.

She walked up to silco pulling him into a hug.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

With jayce and Caitlyn.

Caitlyn was flipping her gun on her finger as she examined the photo. All of a sudden there was a knock on the door before it opened.

[Jayce] hey. How are you feeling?

Caitlyn stood up walking towards Jayce.

[Caitlyn] I've had a break in the case.

[Jayce] shouldn't you be resting?

Caitlyn pulled Jayce's arm towards the stool she was sitting on before perhaps.

[Caitlyn] while the trail is hot? Listen, you know how i've suspected there is a single mind behind the undercity's violence?

[Jayce] the great conspiracy.

[Caitlyn] I think whoever attacked the square is our suspect. The same symbols showed up at the botched smuggling operation at the hexgates.

[Jayce] the hexgates?

[Caitlyn] keep up. All this time, they've kept their dealings localized to the undercity. Low priority. The attack on the square changes things. They've overstepped. If I can figure out who made this, it could lead me directly to whoever's behind it all. The answer is here, staring me in the face. I can feel it.

Caitlyn took a few steps back stepping onto the red stool.

[Jayce] how do you intend on proving any of this?

[Caitlyn] if I can just work this out. Marcus will have to listen.

[Jayce] if there's one thing I've learned about the council, they need more than just theories.

[Caitlyn] since when did you concern yourself with the councils opinion?

[Jayce] since i.. became a councilor.

Caitlyn chuckled until she realized he was being serious.

[Caitlyn] you're serious, when? Why? Have they discovered how to govern with grease and a spanner?

[Jayce] ha ha. I was actually hoping you might consider joining my staff.

He handed note, she opened it up.

[Caitlyn] house "talis security" that's a ceremonial position. I'd live behind a desk.

[Jayce] you almost died, Cait. I... I just want you to be safe.

She handed him the note back.

[Caitlyn] thanks, but I already have a job.

[Jayce] No, no you don't. After the attack, your parents spoke to the sheriff. This is the best I could do.

[Caitlyn] I don't need charity, councilor yours or my parents.

[Jayce] Cait.

[Caitlyn] get out.

And just like that Jayce left leaving Caitlyn alone to her work ever though she isn't an enforcer anymore thanks to her parents.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

After all of that stuff happend, silco came back to the last drop heading up the stairs where his office was.

Once he stepped inside he saw you sitting on the couch.

[Y/n] a bit busy hm?

[Silco] why are you in my office? He questioned you.

[Y/n] I just wanted to see how you're doing, but I guess I'm not wanted at the moment. You said this while you're e/c looked at his blue and molten colored eye.

Silco walked over towards his chair, flopping down in it.

[Silco] No, I need you to do something for me.

You raised an eyebrow interested on what your boss meant.

[Y/n] hm. What do you need? You said while walking towards him

Silco pulled out one of his cigars lighting it, taking a breath of it before answering you.

[Silco] a quick shoulder massage would be nice, hm?

You knew why he asked you rather than Jinx or sevika it was because you weren't rough.

Before placing your hands on his shoulder you set your battle axe down next to you, you then placed your hands on his shoulder rubbing them.

[Silco] hmm, that's it keep rubbing.

You hummed as you continued.

Silco looked up at you with half opened eyes, you chuckled a bit.

all of a sudden silcos hand was on yours motioning you to stop, you took you're hands off of his shoulders taking a step back.

[Silco] Well that was pleasing.

You smiled at his comment.

[Y/n] well I should get going now.

You grabbed your battle axe as you started to head towards the door.

[Silco] I look forward to seeing you're presence tomorrow.

Before you left the room you stood there for a bit.

[Y/n] of course, i can't leave after all.

And with that you left the room, leaving the last drop heading home for the day.

Today was interesting.

When you finally got home, you flopped down on the couch kicking your shoes off.

You got comfortable on the couch falling asleep after a while.

#reader x arcane #silco x reader #fanfiction

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marie-eve-anne · 2 years

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I Start Off Life As Little Miss Perfect

French Empire Lives into the Modern Day AU aka Marie Eve Anne Saga AU

Summary: Marie Eve Anne meets a man she actually likes for once.

If you want to be a girl like me, it’s impossible. Obviously. It’s not like anyone can just be anyone. If you think that’s what I’m talking about, you are so wrong. I meant by if you can be scary and cute at the same time. And also good at almost everything adults throw at you.

Little buggers like me could give you a headache when you stay around long enough. And if you somehow find yourself in these pages, dream on. You have no idea what’s going to happen to you.

Let me introduce myself at first before I start this disaster.

My name is Marie Eve Anne. I am six years old.

For some of you who were definitely wondering, ‘Oh, who's this? Welly's daughter?’ No. This may sound like its rubbish, but it’s real. I am NOT Arthur Wellesley's daughter. I may look like it, but if you zoom in, you can see it. Yeah, yeah, we have the same eyes, but hey, there are a lot of people who have blue-grey eyes.

And why would Arthur have a daughter at that old age? If you think ‘Oh, cool!’ then stop daydreaming.

So anyways, my life began on the 18th of June. Waterloo Day! What a coincidence! My dad was Napoleon Francois Bonaparte, aka the Duke of Reichstadt, Napoleon II, whatever you wanna call him. My mom is Maria Teresa von Rothschild, and she was a rich Jewish lady. Like, THE RICHEST.

Dad couldn't get away from court, and Mom was busy with her family. So their relationship resembled Hades and Persephone, if it's not obvious. I had to stay with my dad in Vienna, since surprise! I am the granddaughter of Napoleon Bonaparte himself. Any crazy royalist or republican would have eyes on me and my father the moment we get out of the city. At least we could walk around Vienna outside Schönbrunn Palace.

Today, it was the 3rd of December. It wasn't snowing as heavily as Russia, but it was snowing. I felt the cold coming in. Currently, it was past sunset, but the streetlights around Vienna were illuminating the snow very well, so I could see it. Snowflakes were pouring down from the sky, forming light mounds of snow. I was watching this from a hall balcony. I'd rather not go to another one of those boring balls by my caretakers. What does a kid like me have to do there? I would just fade into the background, since I had nothing to do. Unlike the adults who somehow find enjoyment in being completely stale. Don't talk to me about my grandma. She opts to stay in her lovely house in Parma, where she has no idea how disliked she is.

It's been at least fifteen minutes after the ball started. The hall was starting to get noisy. And there I singlehandedly ruined a party by not being there in the first place. Talk about absence. If I'm there, they'll just ignore me. If I'm not, chaos erupts. I am the useless organ in the human body, yet some people make a fuss about it if its not there. You might think, Oh, poor girl! Don't pity me. I'm used to this. Ever since I was three, I've been ignored.

Anyway, there were these two soldier men who usually stood guard at the doors, were off looking for me. It was like they were blind or near-sighted, because I was at a close window, but these two were frantically running around like idiots looking for an elephant. I was four feet tall. Anyone clear-sighted could see me there. It was becoming annoying, so I whistled. They immediately turned around. "You were looking for me?"

"Ah, yes! The Chancellor was looking for you!" One of them said. I was feeling like he'll come right in front of me. He's going to say: "Now, what are you doing?" In his stupid voice I don't want to hear. Even though he's agreeable, I can't help but not like him, at all.

After a few minutes of waiting, that man finally came down the hall. He appeared in formal attire, his hair styled perfectly, and even though it was so short, it didn't need all of that fancy styling powdered wigs had. And also, those things are outdated. Does he want his head lopped off? He was conservative, so it will be eventually, I think.

"Now, what are you doing?" Called it.

"Watching the snow." I answered him softly. This man's good side was most definitely the best thing you want out of this whole city, aside from my grandparents' money.

"Aside from that, why are you not at the ball tonight?"

I answered accordingly. "I prefer to look at the snow and stars tonight." I wasn't lying. I really did prefer looking at snow than attending a party where I can't possibly exist. "But you belong there tonight. Archduchess Sophie is looking for you as well." Oh yes. Archduchess Sophie. Aside from being there for her children, she was also there for her guests. Mostly guests. And also, are trying to gaslight me?

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Still in the ballroom. Looking for you." As if I'd believe that. She's probably entertaining guests. "May we then?" I held his arm, and we walked back to the ballroom.

The music was the only thing in the ballroom that was fine to me. It might've looked extravagant. Pretty. To you and I. If only it wasn't ruined by the number of shallow nobles around, who think their position is totally natural and they don't have to work for their lives to be perfect. Another reason why I don't like parties. Who wants to be stuck in a room with too many idiots? But then I noticed the absurd amount of people waiting near the main door. Was someone coming?

"Ah, there you are, my darling!" She was trying to be sweet with me. Emphasis on trying.

"What's the occasion? Why is everyone standing so close to the door?" She smiled, though I could tell that she was trying to be civil. Because she doesn't smile much. Sophie held my hand. "Someone special is visiting. We're lucky we found you early!" Says the woman who let me wander around on my own to watch the snow.

After this conversation, the doors opened. The crowd stayed silent, while the music continued. There was an old man in the middle. He was old, but he looked strong enough for one. An army man, I think. Looking closer, he had blue-gray eyes, sharp but intelligent. They looked tired, almost. "Who is he?" I asked Sophie.

"My, it is the Duke of Wellington! He's come to Vienna." I felt stupid.

I saw his portraits, when he was way younger. Despite his old age, though, something about it felt kind of sad. Yeah, I know, growing old sucks, but there was also the tinge of unhappiness floating around the air. Sophie, along with Metternich and I, greeted the Duke formally. Nobody but me could then ask the next question. I was a kid, so sue me.

"Who are you?" I meant by his name, not his title.

"My name?" He asked. Wow. He picked up quick.

"Arthur's my name. You may call me that, if you wish." As he said so, he looked a little lonelier. Now that I see his eyes closer, he looked even more so. His eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he just stared into the depths of despair.

"Your name, darling?"

"Eve." I said shortly. I always preferred to be called by my middle name. Seems more honest.

"Eve is your name, dear?" He didn't clearly hear me, I think. He was old, after all.

"Yes, sir." I politely responded.

This conversation would've been longer if it weren't for a man named Metternich. "Perhaps we should converse, Your Grace?"

"Ah, yes. What is it?"

"Why have you come to Vienna in such short notice?"

His eyes shifted from sad to glad. "My friend, Sir Arbuthnot, has told me my tiredness taking its toll. A vacation to Vienna would most certainly be ideal." What? Because I was here?

I ignored the rest of that conversation, and just stood idly in the ballroom. There wasn't anything to do at all. But now that I'm here, I can't get out because of Sophie. Still, I wanted to meet that man again. He was looking down at me the whole time.

Someone apparently sent me a letter after the ball. It said:

"It has been of curious intent, and it is most certainly unruly. I wish to see you in private. The northern wing. The corridors you were watching through. Metternich had told me.

-Sir Arthur Wellesley"

Huh. That's strange. He referred to himself as his own name. Maybe he was being friendly, since I was a child, after all. I wanted to come, of course. But maybe this man thought I could get away by myself.

This was perhaps the kick-start of my new life. How? He wanted to talk.

#marie eve anne #arthur wellesley #duke of wellington #klemens von metternich #european history #historical fanfic

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izdatazn · 4 months

Text

Welcome to S.U.I.T.S: Initiation By Fire

TERRAN 8 - SEMI FINAL

The morning arrived, casting a gentle beam of light through my blinds and filling the air with the delightful symphony of birdsong. Sleep had eluded me due to the events involving Asuka last night. Lying in bed, I gazed at the ceiling as I drifted into a daze. The memory of that remarkable kiss lingered on my lips. However, it wasn't my only concern as I still had a tournament to participate in and hadn't gotten a full night's rest. It is Monday, January 12th 2079.

Finally, I climbed out of bed and strode towards my balcony door. Pausing for a few seconds before reaching my blinds, I took a deep breath and then slid them aside, opening the balcony door to let in the fresh air.

"Good morning sleepyhead!" Asuka announced from her balcony with a bored look on her face. My jacket was still wrapped around her while she carried her sports bag on her shoulder as she climbed onto mine.

"Today is another big day for both of us," she said confidently as she entered my room without hesitation or invitation like usual invading upon my space once again. I observed her stretch her body, trying to make our normal life seem natural, but it was easy to see that she was struggling. She avoided eye contact with me. "Your mom makes delicious breakfast; I'll join you with Nao." I nodded as she stepped out of my room and into my house, accepting her presence and trying to maintain the semblance of a normal routine despite the underlying tension between us.

Asuka and Nao were playfully eating breakfast together in the kitchen, while I discreetly observed from the living room, savoring my toast. At that moment, I made a conscious decision to let go of whatever had happened last night and simply appreciate having Asuka's company so close to me. I believe this is also what Asuka desires.

My phone buzzed a couple of times, and upon reaching for it on the table, I discovered a message from Kumiko inviting me to join her for breakfast near the station. I declined invitation and stood up from the floor to take another sip of my orange juice.

As my mom walked by me, she remarked, "Leaving so soon? You haven't finished your toast."

I lied, ”Kumiko wants to have breakfast with me at the station,”

"Ah, is it a breakfast date?" Asuka teasingly interjected. Our eyes accidentally locked across the room; she subtly looked away while still posing her question.

"Don't be silly," I answered. "I'll see you at school." Hurriedly grabbing my sports bag, I dashed through the hallway. In that split second before disappearing out of the door, our eyes met once again. It was during that momentary connection that her disapproval of me meeting with Kumiko became apparent from her gaze. Scratching my neck, I thought to myself: "Don’t look at me like that Asuka; it’s driving me crazy.

Just like the school’s social media, news sites were solely focused on four top runners from our nation. It's safe to assume they were referring to Aikawa Eiji, Shigihara Asuka, Kobo Kumiko, and myself. I am far from being a top runner but it appears that news sites crave exciting content about two rival schools competing against each other in male and female sprints as well as relays.

Today, my body wasn't cooperating with me due to a lack of sleep, and I did everything in my power to hide it. I positioned myself near the fountain, attempting to wash away the fatigue from my face. Unfortunately, it didn't help much, and people passing by took notice.

Suddenly, a bothersome voice broke through the air. "You look terrible, Issei," Eiji remarked loudly. I turned towards him on my right side and saw him standing there with his arms crossed.

"Don't speak to me as if you're one of my friends, Aikawa," I replied irritably. "It's Kobayashi."

"Whatever you say, Issei," Aikawa replied as he approached me and casually slung his arm over my shoulder. "Instead of dwelling on whatever happened between you and Asuka, focus on the upcoming events."

I glanced at him skeptically. “I don’t know what you mean.”

"I hit a nerve with that comment," he chuckled. "You guys are easy to read." Eiji playfully patted my back. "Remember what I told you on day one, Issei? Even though she may reject me multiple times, I will eventually win her over." I glared at him intently. “Ah, I see the determination in your eyes. Hold onto that for today.” Eiji slapped my back and walked away. “Fortunately, we're not in the same group in the 100m sprint.” He stopped and turned around. “But you'll have a tough competitor today, so good luck.” Aikawa gave me a thumbs up. “I’ll see you in the next round.”

Thanks to Aikawa's help, I effortlessly surpassed my competitor in the 100m sprint and advanced to the next round. However, after a few hours had passed, I noticed that my body wasn't responding as it should have been. Now, the 4x100m mixed relay was upon me and it had been a long day of anxious waiting.

I stood at my position on the track, feeling my energy wane. Aikawa stood next to me, casually stretching while the air filled with excitement. The seats were packed with spectators eagerly awaiting the start of the mixed relay.

Aikawa chuckled and said, "I hope you saw your school's social media post about this race, Issei. They called it 'The Race of the Century' and came up with so many other cringe-worthy titles. The spectators are really hyped up." He laughed again and added, "Let's give them an amazing performance today and tomorrow.”

The anticipation was tangible as we positioned ourselves for the mixed relay race. We eagerly awaited the sound of the starting gun, while observing Kumiko and Asuka standing side by side. Ignoring the commotion around us, my focus narrowed on one thing. After a few tense seconds of anticipation, the starter gun finally went off.

Kumiko and Asuka sprinted forward simultaneously, their figures blending into a blur. It was impossible to discern who took the lead as all four runners were evenly matched. The baton smoothly passed from hand to hand as each athlete handed it off to their teammate, propelling them forward with incredible speed and determination.

As they dashed towards their next teammate, it appeared that Asuka's partner had taken a slight lead with Sho closely trailing behind. Sho then passed the baton to Nanako, who sprinted off and caught up to Asuka’s team, now running side by side. Aikawa and I trotted forward until we felt our hands touch the baton tightly before being sent flying off. What felt like minutes of running lasted only a couple of seconds. We focused on sprinting towards the finish line, with Aikawa briefly taking the lead before I gained traction and ran beside him. I overtook him by a step and crossed the finish line first by a millisecond.

I stumbled forward, tripping on my own shoes, but luckily Kumiko and Asuka were there to catch me. With their support, I managed to come to a halt and sank down onto my knees. Lying on my back, I gasped for breath while the crowd cheered in excitement over the unfolding event. Despite it only being the semi-final, the match was so thrilling that even the spectators were on edge.

Aikawa joined the girls and stood beside me, laughing as he tried to catch his breath. "This guy is going to get himself injured before tomorrow's main event," he remarked jokingly. He extended his hand towards me, and after a few moments of lying there catching my breath, I reached out and took hold of his hand. He pulled me up with a firm grip. "I hope to see you bring this same energy as my rival tomorrow.”

“What happened to you?” Kumiko asked. “You looked so dead this morning and all of sudden you took first place in the tracks. Did something exciting happen last night?”

“I believe that Aikawa gave me some motivation.” I avoided the answer and lied to her. “Because I was nervous for today.” I cleaned my face with water near the water fountain. "Well, Issei, I hope you have a restful sleep after the event," Kumiko said. "Because you'll need it for tomorrow." She walked away, stretching her limbs. I found myself alone with Kumiko after the event, although there were still a few spectators and students lingering around the school. As we stood there, basking in the glow of the setting sun, she turned to face me. Initially, Kumiko didn't capture my interest but without makeup and with the sun shining behind her, she appeared truly beautiful. I kind of understand why she was called the number one beauty at school by our peers.

She discreetly hid her arm behind her body and began to confess something to me when we were abruptly interrupted by someone who appeared behind me. It was a woman holding a phone and recording us

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I couldn't help but notice that it's Issei Kobayashi and Kumiko Kubo right in front of me!" the woman squealed. "Can I get your autograph?" She eagerly took out her notepad and pen as she approached me.

Feeling a sense of unease building up inside me, I glanced at Kumiko with a worried expression. However, she seemed oblivious to what was happening as she watched the female fan approach us. I noticed a couple of figures subtly surrounding us from afar. This peaked my suspicion. When I turned back around quickly, I introduced myself to the enthusiastic fan who held her pen poised like a weapon ready to strike. Reacting swiftly, I pushed her away causing myself to stumble backward. Just before falling on my backside, Kumiko caught hold of me.

In an act of aggression fueled by obsession or madness perhaps, the female fan hurled her pen towards me but missed as it struck the ground where Kumiko had been standing just moments ago.

"I've finally found you!" The fan screamed in a menacing tone, revealing multiple pens concealed within her clothing. She quickly connected them together, forming dual swords. With fury in her eyes, she charged towards me while I desperately dodged each swing. In a swift move, Kumiko pushed me aside to keep me safe.

Three wooden stumps emerged from the ground as two others wrapped around her arm. The fan and Kumiko engaged in close combat while I watched closely. I noticed several fans dressed in our casual clothes surrounding us.

"Issei, run!" Kumiko shouted. "I'll handle this."

Panic-stricken, I hurried into the building with a few of them chasing after me. Despite feeling exhausted from the earlier tournament, this unexpected moment filled me with energy to escape. As I ran through the hallway, they followed closely behind. Reaching the second floor, I grabbed a nearby broom and swung it frantically at them as they attacked me. In an attempt to distract them, I threw a bucket before continuing my escape.

I ascended to the third floor where two more charged out of a classroom and threw me onto the floor. In a rush, I rolled forward and quickly regained my feet with the broom still in hand. Four of them were now chasing after me. As they pursued me relentlessly, we reached the rooftop where there was no place left for me to run—they had successfully cornered me.

A male fan spoke up, saying, "We simply wanted your autograph." He laughed hysterically and charged towards me. Reacting quickly, I struck him in the face with my broom, but was then pushed back by a female fan. She too laughed uncontrollably and said, "We only want to bring you to our leader." Struggling to break free, I kicked her knees and punched her face with all my might. Despite my efforts, she remained unfazed. In a whisper, she warned me not to resist and took a step back, pulling the broom away while dragging me out from the corner.

Thrown abruptly into the center of the rooftop with all three of them surrounding me, I found myself defenseless without anything to fight off my attackers. Moreover, my skills in close combat were far from exceptional.

As I stood there, a hand was placed on my shoulder as a man walked past me. "Let me handle this," Hideki said, unsheathing a small razor sword hidden in his sleeve. "Why can't you guys just be normal fans instead of crazy fans?" The remaining attackers lunged at him, but Hideki swiftly dispatched them. "You guys aren't any fun."

He turned around and approached me, patting my shoulder. "Luckily, we were nearby," he said. I noticed one of the attackers slowly getting up. Hideki turned back to face them. "I guess you want round two then." An arrow whizzed over our shoulders and struck the attacker's chest, followed by a bullet aimed at their forehead, ending their life.

I turned around to see Nanako standing on the railing with her fixed position. "That kill was mine, Ren," Nanako said as she touched her earpiece.

Suddenly, Kumiko rushed out of the building and onto the rooftop. She tightly wrapped her arm around me and silently cried. "Thank goodness you're still alive," Kumiko whispered with relief in her voice. "I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier."

"Issei," Kumiko whispered, her voice filled with concern. "You're injured." Gently, she touched the scar on my cheek.

"I'll be fine," I assured her, brushing her hands away. "I'll take care of it later."

We stood in the middle of the road near our house, enveloped in darkness. Only the streetlights provided a faint glow. Kumiko tenderly caressed my injured hands, her face reflecting a mix of worry and betrayal for not noticing earlier.

Trying to change the subject, I asked, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"It's nothing," she replied softly, shaking her head. "I'll tell you after tomorrow's tournament." Releasing my hands, she took a few steps back and suggested, "Are you sure you don't want to come inside and tend to your wounds?"

I rejected her offer. "I'll be alright. See you tomorrow."

As I watched her enter her house alone in the darkness, I couldn't help but feel pain coursing through me. However, I didn't want Kumiko to worry more about my injury. Turning around, I entered my own home silently and cautiously made my way up to the second floor where my chilly room awaited.

To my surprise and confusion upon entering the room with its balcony door wide open and lights on; Asuka stood in the middle of the room wearing my favorite jacket holding a first aid kit - evidently prepared to take care of me.

“Shit, Kumiko must’ve told you.” I asked as I closed the door behind me. “I’m fine.”

"Sit down," Asuka firmly replied.

"I can do that myself," I said reaching for the kit in her hand but she refused to let go. Frustratedly sighing out Asuka's name before speaking again:

"Sit," she repeated firmly once more.

Reluctantly obeying at last; sitting down as instructed while keeping my eyes on Asuka. She approached the door and switched off the light, leaving only the gentle glow of the full moon to illuminate the room. The atmosphere became serene as she settled down beside me and began unpacking the first aid kit. Silently, I watched as she cleansed my bloodied hand and tended to a noticeable scar on my cheek. With care, she applied a band-aid over it.

"Anywhere else?" she inquired.

"No," I replied truthfully.

"You're lying," she shot back. "Let me see." With that, she unzipped my jacket and slid it off my shoulder revealing another severe scar on my back. "Look, this looks worse than your hands." She positioned herself behind me, gently touching my wound with concern evident in her touch.

"I should have been there," Asuka whispered softly.

I noticed a faint glow emanating from behind me as silence surrounded us; a comforting stillness between just the two of us that reassured me. After finishing tending to my wounds, I felt her arm wrap around me tightly and her cheeks brushed against the wound on the back of my shoulder as she held onto it firmly. Her voice trembled: "I should have been there to protect you...I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about me, Asuka," I whispered placing my hand firmly over hers. "I am capable of taking care of myself."

Our gazes were locked, intertwined in a profound silence that enveloped us completely. We stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity, and with each passing second, our connection grew stronger. Slowly, we adjusted our positions, leaning closer to one another until Asuka reclined on the floor beneath me. The soft moonlight illuminated her beautiful face, which now displayed a noticeable blush across her cheeks.

Breaking free from our trance-like state suddenly, Asuka tried to push me away. However, I firmly grasped both of her wrists and held them above her head. Asuka glanced slightly away from me as a single tear escaped from her eyes. Though vulnerable in her position, she did not resist my grip.

After a moment of silence, she finally looked into my eyes again, her face bathed in the soft glow of the full moon. I watched as her gaze followed my hand as it reached for the zipper on my jacket and firmly gripped it. With deliberate and unhurried movements, I partially unzipped my jacket to reveal the track uniform tank top she had on underneath. Drawing nearer until I could feel her shallow breath against my cheek, I slowly fully unzipped her jacket, exposing her bare belly button. The scent of her perspiration lingers in the air around us. Gently yet assuredly, I rested my hand on her stomach while maintaining our unwavering eye contact.

"Issei," Asuka softly whispered, drawing out each syllable of my name. "Please don't look at me like this," she pleaded in desperation. "Or else I'll lose control."

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measuringlife · 2 years

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My mom fell again and this time broke her femur. And just like that I am teleported to August 2019 when she fell down the stairs and broke her hip. Her 2019 fall set off a dramatic chain reaction of us deciding to sell her house, move her to independent senior living near me in VA, and having her dog Louie join the #GreenmontCourt gang.

There was no instruction manual for any of this, nor did any of us know that a pandemic was just a few short months away.

Between August 2019 and October 2019 I handled immediate needs when it came to my mom - like making a will (which she has told me she had done, only for me to find a draft that was not signed), power of attorney, banking needs, car drama, searching on her behalf for a senior community, and beginning the long processes of emptying out 40 years of stuff in my childhood home.

We moved my mom down in October 2019 and it was a bumpy transition for her to say the least. However by the start of 2020 we all were finding a bit of a groove. I took my mom grocery shopping and to lunch every 2-3 weeks, Tim & I ate at her senior living dining room once - in fact I think that was the last time I saw her before COVID.

Spring Break 2020 was spent in New York making the final push to empty my moms house after multiple weekends doing it between August and December 2019. We had a realtor and were ready to list. Nothing like putting a house on the market in the early days of the pandemic. We finally got it sold in October 2020 (although if we would have waiting a year I’m curious what we could have gotten for it - but I also didn’t want to be responsible for an old empty house 250 miles away either).

During the first 6 months of the pandemic no guests were allowed in my mom’s senior living community. So I’d drop groceries at the luggage cart in the lobby to be brought up and then go around back and talk with her while she was out on the balcony a few floors up. For many of these months I know my mom also wasn’t able to spend much time out of her room. I was worried about all the sitting she’d been doing. No wandering the halls, or trips to the dining room, or mailbox.

In October 2020, I was finally able to visit in her apartment. I can’t recall if her walking was noticeably worse. Considering the last time I had stood in a room with her was 8 months earlier and she was still just 6 months post hip replacement surgery then.

For the next year and a half my mom didn’t leave her senior community except for me to take her to a few eye doctor appointments and I “dragged” her to Thanksgiving at my house in 2021. Her walking and balance was definitely worse. I tried to express my concerns about her sedentary ways and encouraged her to walk even just the halls of the building or really slow on a treadmill holding the rails in the fitness center where she lived.

Finally in March of this year I coaxed her into coming to CVS with me to get her prescription after a doctors appointment. Then in April I got her to come with me to do her own grocery shopping. She successfully made it through the store but then felt dizzy and tired when we went to wait in line so I got her to the car and then went back in myself to check out.

The past month since that day I had tried to get her to come back out to shop or eat but she was “sick” canceling on me both times which resulted in me having to do her shopping and dropping it to her while she laid in bed.

This past Sunday was the last time I had seen m her. She had fallen earlier in the week right after getting her 4th booster shot. This fall shook her up, but she was in the lobby area and staff were there. I knew she was sore so I did her grocery shopping and came up to her apartment to visit with her. She was using her cane which she’d had gotten into the habit of using the past few months. I was glad she was using it, but also sad to see she had regressed to needing it.

Sunday night she fell in her bathroom and that’s the fall that broke her femur. She got taken to the hospital Monday morning (she did not call for help until then because she didn’t want to go to the hospital “at night.”) she spent most of Monday in the ER and then was brought up to a room Monday night. Tuesday she had her surgery and they put a metal plate in her leg. I got to visit with her Tuesday evening and have talked to her 2-3x a day since Monday.

Today she is getting discharged and moved to a nearby rehab which she will be for at least 2 weeks. I’ll be visiting her today and bringing by stuff from her apartment. I’ve been trying to give her straight talking pep talks about how she needs to take this physical therapy seriously and to keep it up once she gets home.

I’m sure it’s been hard to lose a lot of her independence over the last few years - although she’s also made a lot of choices to not use the independence she has had. It’s been an adjustment to move from a house to senior independent apartment living and no longer driving (although she’s done very little of it even the 3-4 years before her move). However walking is an incredibly important freedom and I really hope she can fight for it. Her quality of life will change dramatically if she doesn’t.

We witnessed my grandmother (my mother’s mom) go through a series of falls and rehab that she was never committed to doing the work for recover. Finally after fall 3 or 4 she ended up wheelchair bound for the last ~8 years of her life. For reference this all happened in my grandmother’s late 70s-early 80s (she died at 90), but keep in mind my mom will be just 71 this October and this whole mess started 2 months before her 68th birthday.

It’s crazy to think about how YOUNG she is (and how “young” I am to be dealing with all of this). While I do think my mom is a weak person in many senses of the word. It’s also striking to see how quickly she lost herself after she retired at 65. Now granted her mental health took a turn for the worse around that same time too which ultimately led to her retirement.

It just makes me sad that my mom’s mantra since as early as I can remember has been “life sucks and then you die.” Yet here I have been watching all these decades her leaning into the suck. Not ever trying for happy or better. She is one of the most frustrating people I know and keeping my boundaries when it comes to her is so important for my own sanity.

When she is in distress like this (and back in 2019) my boundaries aren’t as firm. For example calling to check in 2-3 times a day. I want to because there is a lot going on and changing, but she zaps my energy and works my never most times.

I know we are a few weeks away from me being able to get back to weekly check ins and seeing her every 2-3 weeks. But even that frequency has been a lot these past few years considering only I saw her 2-3 times a year for most of the 10 years prior.

There’s no bow on this story, it’s still unfolding, but I wanted to put down some thoughts.

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blueprint-han · 3 years

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#...........................................................................................................................................#what if i...died #not from sh but like.... just happened to pass away in my sleep... my paranoia is going off the charts...#my mom and i had a lovely fight today #she found my self harm scars #i tried to like... cover it up and i think she's partially convinced... and i have this feeling she told my grandma about it...#gosh i have to go buy dinner but like #what if i crash the vehicle #this is too much for me to handle #i just stood near the balcony and my mom's like “#“dont put on this drama tic actof like standing near the balcony and crying” and then started cursing about how she has to he worried about #her own daughter in her own house... I'm... honestly? im sorry. maybe im the one who keeps taking this stuff to heart too much to the point #where it fucking brings me to the brink of self harm. it's my fault. all my fault...#she told me wbout how she should just run away ajd how I'm being such a problem to her.#yeah so like? if i hadnt TOLD u and kept.it hidden youd be like “u keep hiding stuff and youre giving me tension dont keep it bottled up”#and the moment i don't...#honestly #i... idk what to say anymore... fuck me #i just... she thinks im sad cuz ahe tells.me to stufy but who's gonna tell her about the stuff she says...#y'know what #ill go drive my way to get dinner #and if i happen to die whej i do that #ill be happy #i don't even see a future with myself lmao #what's the use of struggling so much to wait for things that never get better #its my fault. all my fault. all my fault that im weak and stupid and im on my phone alk the time. everything what i do is wrong and she's #the perfect human being.#dawn.txt #tbd #dawn.personal

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thepremedthatwrites · 3 years

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Things Have Changed

request: Can you plsss do a Peter x reader relationship where the reader is a family friend and Peter has always had a crush on her and idk ends up admitting it to her at night or something and things get very heated like smutty or whatever.

Did I decide to edit this a day early because I'm procrastinating my school work? Perhaps. But anyways, I hope you all like this fic!

warning: smut below the cut

I could feel the beginning of sweat start to drip down the side of my face as I squinted my eyes trying to see the others in the water. The sand was at the border of being too hot to stand on in bare feet, causing me to walk closer to the water where the cold ocean had cooled the ground. “C’mon (y/n)!” Lucy shouted over the sound of the waves crashing into the shore. “The water isn’t even that cold!”

This was a lie and we both knew it. The icy water brushed the tip of my toes as I held back a shudder. At least the water would help me cool off from the unforgiving sun. As I stood contemplating what to do, I felt a hand graze my back. I turned to see Peter walking by me, a grin on his face. “Too scared to run in, (y/n)?” he asked. That was enough to kick me into action as I started to follow him into the water.

“Of course not,” I replied, holding back the instinct to let out a gasp as the cold water wrapped itself around my stomach. Both of our parents stayed by the towels and umbrellas, leaving the ocean to their children as they drank and talked about whatever it is that adults talked about. The blue house that our families had rented stood tall and proud behind our parents, overlooking the beach and whatever sat beyond what reaches of the ocean we could see.

Peter and I came to a halt as we reached where Lucy and Edmund were. “Where’s Susan?” Ed asked as Peter dunked his head under the water.

“I believe she said she was taking a nap,” I replied as Peter’s head reappeared from the dark water. His blond hair was now pressed against his forehead and had become a few shades darker from the weight of the water.

“Watch out! Big wave!” Lucy just managed to shout out the words before my vision was painted white as the wave crashed down on us. I lost control of my body as I let the current drag me around like a rag doll until I felt myself crash into something solid. At first, I thought it was a rock before I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my chest.

“Don’t worry, I got you.” I heard Peter say as my head broke the surface. I gulped in a deep breath of air, the oxygen reaching my lungs as I wiped the salt water out of my burning eyes.

“Thanks,” I managed as the taste of salt water danced down my throat.

“I think some of the water went up my nose.” I heard Edmund say while Lucy was pushing her hair that had been plastered in front of her eyes out of her face. I turned my head to look at Peter whose arms were still around me. The sudden realization of the situation finally dawned on me and I felt my face warm at the close proximity. Suddenly his arms felt like iron chains around me and I couldn’t ignore the feeling of their weight on me. Peter seemed to have also become aware of the sensation of our bodies pressed against each other as he slowly removed his arms from me.

“Sorry,” he said softly, his face now also a light shade of pink.

“Yeah, no worries,” I said quickly. I was suddenly thankful for the large wave coming our way as I turned to face it, focusing my thoughts on not being drowned by the rushing water.

“I almost drowned!” Lucy exclaimed as we all sat around the dinner table. It had been my mom’s turn to cook dinner and so she had made us all steak. I started to cut into the meat as Lucy told Susan all about our adventures in the water. Peter and I had become a bit more quiet since the incident in the ocean. I felt myself stealing glances at him every now and then. Sometimes he had already been looking at me too.

“I’m so happy you guys decided to join us here in the states.” I heard my mom say to the Pevensies’ parents. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other since we moved to America.”

“I know, it seems the kids are having a lot of fun hanging out again,” Mrs. Pevensie replied. I turned back to the conversation but could feel the burning glances Peter occasionally threw at me throughout dinner. I was thankful when dinner was over, trying to wash the dishes as quickly as possible and avoiding being near Peter as much as the confines of the kitchen allowed. The parents had disappeared, most likely to the balcony that overlooked the water to drink some more and catch up on what they had missed in the past five years. As soon as the dishes were done, I excused myself blaming my exhaustion on the sun and went to my room.

I was surprised when I woke up to a dark room. I had expected myself to be unable to sleep and instead toss and turn until the rest of the lights went out in the house. I got up from my bed, checking my phone to see it was around three in the morning. My stomach growled as I turned on my lights. It seems that pushing the food around your plate does little to actually satisfy your hunger. I paused at my mirror before leaving. I brushed out my hair and checked to see that the pajamas I wore were acceptable to be seen by the public. I wasn’t sure if I would run into Peter, he was most likely still asleep, but I wanted to play it safe. I wasn’t sure why I was so concerned about my appearance around him. When we were younger, before my family moved to America, I could have cared less about what he thought of my appearance. But then again, we had been younger then. Five years younger to be exact. We had grown since then. His shoulders had broadened and he had become taller. My body had developed curves where it used to be straight and I had finally grown into myself. We weren’t how we were back in the UK. We were older and more mature.

I shook the thoughts from my mind and opened the door to my room. I walked as quietly as I could past my parents’ room and then past all of the Pevensies’ rooms before reaching the stairs that led to the living area that held the kitchen. I opened the fridge as my stomach automatically growled at the sight of all the food. The best part of being on vacation was the fact that the fridge was always filled with leftovers from dinner. I settled on some of the mac and cheese, spooning some into a bowl before putting it into the microwave. I stood patiently as the whir of the microwave filled the silence that had settled into the room.

“What are you doing up?” I jumped at the voice before turning to see Peter standing by the entrance of the kitchen.

“I was hungry,” I said while pointing my head to the microwave. He walked over to me and I was suddenly thankful I had spent the extra time on my appearance before leaving my room. He wore only a pair of grey sweatpants. I couldn’t help myself and let my eyes wander his exposed abs. He definitely did not have those five years ago.

“I missed seeing you,” he said, causing my eyes to jump from his abs to his ocean blue eyes which I could easily drown in if I weren’t careful.

“Me too,” I replied, my voice much softer than I expected it to be. I cleared my throat before speaking again. “I missed having someone I could annoy like an older brother.” Peter’s face scrunched as he shook his head.

“Please don’t call me an older brother. That’s weird.” I raised an eyebrow at this, my heart racing. All this time I had thought he saw me as another little sister. But if that wasn’t the case, what did he see me as?

“And why is that?” I questioned. Peter’s face seemed to have reddened. I wasn’t sure if it had already been red from the sun and I just hadn’t noticed or if he was blushing. Before he could answer the microwave went off causing me to jump. Peter opened the door, taking the bowl out as steam rose from the food.

He set the bowl down on the counter before turning back to me. His eyes seemed to be studying me. I subconsciously bit my bottom lip in anticipation. I watched as his eyes followed the movement. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you,” he finally said.

“And so have you.”

“The thoughts I have about you…” Peter started as he walked closer to me, stopping so that we were almost pressed against each other. “They are not thoughts a brother has about his sister.” He leaned down towards my ear, his hot breath brushing the bare skin behind my ear and sending a shiver down my spine. “That is why it’s weird for you to call me an older brother.” My face must have been the color of a lobster at this point, and I was no longer afflicted with hunger. Instead, lust coursed through my veins. He paused for a moment as if in thought before pressing his lips on the same skin his breath had just caressed. I let out a soft sigh allowing my hand to grasp onto his strong bicep. My other hand had crept around to his stomach, tracing the abs I had just moments before been admiring. He moved his lips, kissing down my neck as I moved my head back to give him more access.

His hands wrapped around my waist before he lifted me into the air. I let out a gasp in surprise before my ass met the cool counter. His eyes looked me up and down, filled with lust and desire. “Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?” he asked. His hands were by my hips as his thumb traced shapes on my thighs. I found myself blushing at his words. Many people had called me beautiful before but the way he spoke it was the same way people sing praises to the gods they worship. He stepped towards me and I opened my legs for him so that he was as close as physically possible.

He stopped for a moment, his eyes meeting mine. They seemed to be saying all the things that had been left unsaid since we had reunited. You’re different. I’m different. These emotions are different. I love you. I wrapped my legs around him, forcing him closer (something I had not thought possible). His hands moved so that they were on either side of me, resting on the counter. My own hands were on his shoulders. I moved one so that it caressed his face. My mac and cheese sat patiently on the counter next to us, expecting to be eaten soon. I had a feeling the bowl would be staying there until the morning. Peter brought his face closer to mine. He paused for a moment, his eyes moving from my lips to my eyes. I gave a slight nod. Then, he kissed me.

We kissed and suddenly I understood what the authors of the romance books I used to read were writing about. He was like a drug. With each touch I needed more. With each kiss I craved just one more moment of the taste of his lips. My hands traveled to his hair as we continued to kiss. His hands wandered my back, traveling beneath the fabric of my t-shirt. I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to stay like this for eternity. On the other hand, I wanted more. I wanted to connect us even more. I wanted him to fuck me.

I pulled back just long enough for my shirt to be discarded. Then I immediately reconnected our lips. I kissed him hungrily, as if those few seconds apart had left me famished. His hands slipped between us, holding my breasts. A small shudder went down my spine as his thumbs brushed my nipples. His hands continuously moved, as if they weren’t sure what to do with all the newly exposed skin. He squeezed my breasts before letting his hands travel down my stomach, gripping my waist harshly as we continued to kiss.

I could feel a growing wetness between my legs. The feeling of something hard being pushed against my inner thigh informed me Peter was just as turned on. He disconnected our lips, tasting my chin and then neck and then collar bone until he reached my tits. I attempted to catch my breath as his tongue flicked across my nipple. I let out a soft gasp as my back arched in pleasure. He started to suck on my tits, making sure to show great care and attention to both of them. His grip on my waist tightened and I was sure there would be a slight bruise in the morning. I couldn’t bring myself to care at the moment as that slight pain was the only thing keeping me grounded as pure pleasure pulsed throughout my body as Peter continued to kiss and suck and bite on the sensitive areas.

He stopped abruptly, standing upright and looking me directly in the eye. His erection that had been increasing in size and hardness was now protruding from his pants and pressing into the soft skin of my thigh. “When I was younger, I had always felt an attraction to you, (y/n),” he said. His voice was lower than usual and he seemed to be slightly out of breath as he spoke. “I never knew whether it was a friendly attraction or something stronger than that. But the moment I saw you for the first time in five years, I knew the feelings I felt for you...it wasn’t something most people feel. It was something so strong it took everything in me to not fall to my knees in defeat. In a happy defeat where I surrendered my heart to you.” I felt as if my heart was going to burst from my chest as I listened. “My body burns with desire for you (y/n). Please. Let me show you how you make me feel. Let me love you.”

I licked my lips, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth felt. I took a deep breath, hoping some of the fresh night air would clear my lust-clouded mind for a moment. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes a million times.” I could feel a large grin growing on my face and Peter was wearing a matching one. He grabbed my face in his hands before bringing us together for a kiss. It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen as his hands left my face and traveled down my bare top before playing with the band of my shorts. I inched towards the edge of the counter before sliding off, our lips parting for a moment as my feet hit the ground before immediately reuniting.

He roughly pulled down my shorts and panties in one motion, letting the clothes hit the ground. I followed suit, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers. We parted for a moment, the moonlight shining through the window that sat over the sink allowing enough light so that I could see the true length of him. I had only a few moments to admire him, the thickness of his cock was sure to stretch me out deliciously, before he turned me around. I bent over the counter, the cool stone pressing against my naked skin. His hands gripped my hips to hold me in place before he pushed into me.

I let out a loud moan, causing him to put a hand over my mouth. He stayed in place, leaning over so that his mouth was next to my ear. “We have to be quiet. Unless you want both our families to see what we’re doing.” I nodded in understandance as he stood up straight again. He started by moving slowly. He pulled out halfway before pushing in all the way to the base. I felt my pussy flutter around him. He continued this slow rhythm for a while, testing out the water while stretching me out to fit him completely.

Once I felt myself start to adjust he started to go faster. I could feel the edge of the counter dig into my stomach each time my body was thrusted forward. My breasts moved in rhythm with Peter, my weight being supported by my forearms which were propped on top of the counter. His fingers dug into my hips as he fucked me. The kitchen was filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and our muffled moans as we did our best to stay quiet. The smell of sweat and sex hovered in the room. The moon acted as a spotlight for our indecent act. My vision was obstructed by my hair which was now a mess, strands of it sitting in front of my face.

“Peter, please,” I moaned quietly. I could feel myself getting closer, my legs now weaker than before as my arms were the only thing holding me up. Peter sensed this, using his hands that were on my hips to lift me up. I felt my mouth open, but no noise came out as my mind became overtaken with pleasure. I could hear Peter let out a groan as I felt myself collapse around him. I let my head fall forward as I attempted to recover from my orgasm. The pleasure started to become more bearable as Peter continued to fuck me. His thrusts were becoming more desperate. Just as I started to think he couldn’t be any rougher, he pulled out.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded. The way he spoke brought butterflies to my stomach. He spoke much more forcefully than before, his voice laced with lust as he was too concerned with his own release to speak gently to me. I obeyed, opening my mouth for him unprompted. I started moving my head for him, wanting to make him feel just as good as he made me feel. His head fell back as his hip thrusted forward. I fought back the reflex to gag as his cock buried itself deep within my throat. His hand pushed on the back of my head, keeping me in place as I felt the beginning spurt of a warm and bitter liquid shooting down my throat. I swallowed all of it greedily, wanting to have as much of Peter as I could.

As the last drop of his cum slid down my throat, he slowly pulled away. I wiped away the small dribble of drool that had fallen down my chin. I looked up at him and he looked down at me, a smile on his face. His hand ran down the side of my head before caressing my face. I slowly got up, my legs still slightly weak. “Wow,” I said, slightly out of breath. Peter let out a soft chuckle before pulling me in for a kiss. We quietly got dressed. Peter grabbed my hand, leading me to his room. Our clothes didn’t stay on for too long as they quickly found their way to his bedroom floor. The night was filled with whispers of confessions of love, hands in hair, and lips pressed on naked skin. The next morning I would wake up, afraid that it had all been a dream before I turned to see Peter’s face on the pillow next to me. Then, a smile matching Peter’s sleepy one would form on my face.

#peter pevensie #high king peter the magnificent #high king peter #king peter the magnificent #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie smut #peter pevensie x y/n #peter pevensie x you #peter pevensie headcanon #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie one shot #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #narnia fanfiction #narnia smut #narnia imagine

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captainmalewriter · 3 years

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Symbiotic Relationship

Ever since I was little, I've been really good with plants. I know how to take care of them, how to nourish dying plants back to health, what certain species need, etc. My mom's a botanist and my dad's a florist (the best in town actually), I think green thumbs just run in the family. Me? I'm just happy taking care of my garden and traveling to new places to see their local flora.

No, I’m not a plant daddy, I don’t have the looks for that. But I love plants all the same, plants give me joy!

Or rather... I guess I should say used to give me joy.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love my plants dearly. But I’ve just been so lonely lately. I thought it would go away with time, but it got worse. I’ve tried dating apps but, as I half expected, no luck. It feels like it’ll never end, I think I’m becoming depressed. Sometimes I wish I could just leave my old life and just become someone else, even if it was just for a day.

I’m sitting on my balcony as I look out into the blue skies. The sunlight feels warm and pleasant on my body. A bee flies near me, buzzing as it flies down to my garden. I follow it with my eyes, and when I do so I spot a few of my veggie plants that desperately need water. When I did last water them... last Tuesday? Sunday? I couldn’t remember anymore, it’s been so long now.

I turn my head away from my garden, I couldn’t bare with seeing my pride and joy suffering because of my inability to get it together. Bad idea. I had forgotten about the succulents I kept on my balcony. They too, were in need of some care. It was too much for me. I started to cry.

I ran down the balcony stairs into my garden. I spun in place as I looked over all of my various plants and flowers. Some of them were beginning to wilt, others were still holding on strong but I feared for not much longer.

“I’m so sorry... someone, anyone, please help me!” I cried out. I kneeled over on the ground next to my plants and cried. I don’t know how much time passed, but it must have been a while. Probably too long, I could’ve sworn I heard some voices. But whenever I looked up, all I saw was my garden. Maybe I was growing delusional too. My head was aching, throbbing really, and the world around me was spinning. And my eyes were getting heavy, not just from tears but from drowsiness. Every time I closed my eyes, they got just a little bit heavier, until I couldn’t keep them open anymore.

***

It was still broad daylight when I woke up. I felt groggy from whatever caused that sudden sleepiness. I stood up and brushed off the dirt from my clothes.

“Huh?” I gasped when I noticed my hands. They were darker than I remembered. God, how long was I out to burn so much...

I began walking towards the balcony stairs to go inside, but something caught my attention and I stopped midway. A sunflower. A really tall sunflower, probably a foot and a half taller than me. I didn’t have any sunflowers at the moment, the last ones I had were gifted to an aunt a long time ago. I walked up to it and stared in awe at it.

“Do not be afraid,” I heard a voice say.

“What the hell!?”

I jumped back, quickly scanning the area for whoever’s voice that was. I looked everywhere but didn’t see anyone. I kept looking and looking, but I really couldn’t spot anyone.

“It is I who speaks, the one your kind refers to as, Sunflower,”

I turned to the mysterious sunflower, unsure if what I was hearing was real or a sign I need help.

“Do not be afraid. What you hear is no illusion or trick, but as real as the sun shines.”

Oh God the sunflower is still talking to me. I took a step forward, cautiously.

��So... you can talk?” I asked it.

“Only to you, and only within your mind. I have come here to grant your wish, and as a result, resolve your internal turmoil.”

“My internal what?” I asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Turmoil. My brothers and sisters, the ones you care for in your home, have summoned me with regards to a crisis.”

I stood there as the sunflower talked, speechless to what was happening in front of me.

“You have taken great care of our kind, ever since your childhood.”

“Yeah... I have...”

“And as a token of our appreciation, it is now our turn to take care of you. I have granted your wish for a new life. Please, take a look with your phone.”

In my confusion, I did as the sunflower instructed and nearly screamed. I saw my face, my new face. I loved it, I nearly wept out of pure joy. I put away my phone and nearly hugged the sunflower. I stopped just before touching it, afraid I might crush it, and instead danced in place next to it.

"Thank you, Sunflower! This means the world to me..."

Some months have passed ever since the sunflower changed my body. The sunflower vanished that evening and hasn't been back since then. I never got to ask it how it worked its magic, but I'm forever grateful for what it did.

Before it left, the sunflower warned me that if I stopped taking good care of my garden that it would return and leave me worse than how it found me. It emitted an intimidating aura that gave me chills, but I had no problem meeting its conditions. In fact, ever since I became a new man, I've been taking better care of both myself and my plants.

I don't think I've ever been happier with my life. Sure, I still get sad or anxious every now and again. But it's never as bad as that dark time in my life, and I'm grateful for that.

You know, I remember there were some people that told me that I spend way too much time on my plants. That it's good to have a hobby, but don't take it too far. That plants can't take care of you like a person can. Well, joke's on them. I take care of my plants, and they took care of me during my time of need. I'm living my best life now.

I'm currently traveling in Italy. I love it here, and there's a cute guy that keeps checking me out when he thinks I'm not looking. But I know, and I'm going to make my move.

Yeah, this is the life.

#male body swap #male transformation #body swap #body switch #mental change #male shapeshift

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handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

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The Cabin - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader (Part 1/3)

“What’s got you so distracted?” Evans asked Tom.

“Sorry, I just…I had planned on visiting my family again during break, but most of them will be on a cruise for a family friend’s wedding. I know I saw them less than two months ago for Christmas, but I don’t get to see them often anymore.”

“Oh, damn!” Chris replied.

“I know, I’m considering whether or not it’s even worth it to deal with two incredibly long flights going to and from London if I’m not even going to get to see my family.” He said, opening the make-up trailer door for him and Chris.

“Where else were you thinking about spending break?” he asked, plopping down in the make-up chair to start having all of the Captain America washed off for the next two weeks.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I may just take a trip to somewhere much closer by myself.” Tom answered, running his fingers through his hair when his wig was removed.

“If that’s what you WANT to do, cool, but you should just come with me to the cabin.” Chris suggested.

“The cabin?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, my friend Y/N owns a huge cabin and I drag my family up there every few years.” He explained.

“Thank you for the invite, but I couldn’t intrude on your family’s time with you.” Tom politely answered.

“Come on. First, you know my mother loves you. Second, you aren’t intruding on anything.” Chris tried convincing him.

“I really don’t want to be a bother.” Tom felt guilty, knowing how much of a family person Chris was.

“That’s it.” Chris dramatically pulled his cellphone out. “Siri, call Ma!”

“You wouldn’t.” Tom said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Calling ‘Ma’” Siri’s voice replied. The make-up artists were trying hard to keep their laughs to themselves at this point.

After a few rings, Chris’ mother answered the phone. “Hey sweetie.”

“Hey Ma, I’m here with Hiddleston and I need you to settle an argument.” Chris shot Tom a snarky ‘watch this’ look.

“Tom! How are you, sweetheart?” Chris’ mom Lisa asked.

“I’m doing well, thank you. How have you been?” Tom replied with a grin on his face.

“I’m good, I’m good. Now what are you two arguing about?” She asked.

“Well, Tom isn’t going to get to see his family over filming break.” Chris started to explain.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Lisa interrupted. “You should just drive up to Y/n’s with Chris! There’s plenty of room and you know I always make too much food anyhow.”

Chris gave Tom a cocky grin. “That’s exactly what I was telling him, Ma!”

“You’re too kind.” Tom laughed. “I suppose you’ve made an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome with us.” Lisa reiterated. “We’re getting ready for bed since our flight is so damn early in the morning, so I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

“Thanks, Ma! Be safe!” Chris answered, hanging up the phone.

“Thank you.” Tom said, getting up from his make-up chair.

“I told you, it’s no biggie. We’re gonna have a blast.” Evans answered.

“When are we leaving?” Tom asked.

“Well, we’ve got a few options.” Chris answered as the two of them left the make-up trailer.

“Go on.”

“They aren’t expecting us there until tomorrow, but if we leave in the next few hours, we’ll actually beat them there.” Chris explained.

“I mean, I’m nowhere near tired.” Tom said, letting Chris know he was down for the drive.

“Same. I’ve been so excited for this trip, I feel wired.” He replied “Wanna pack and meet me at mine?”

“Absolutely.” Tom answered. “Anything specific I should pack?” He called loudly as the two had walked a distance apart.

“Dress comfy!” Chris yelled back. “And bring a jacket! It’s snowing!”

Tom waved and made his way to his trailer.

It was about an 8 or 9 hour drive up to the cabin, so the guys rolled up at about 3 in the morning.

“Is anybody else here?” Tom asked, as Chris navigated his truck up the snowy drive.

“Y/n’s here. She spends about half her time up here.” Chris answered, parking the truck and shooting you a text.

“Where does she spend the rest of her time?” Tom asked.

“Everywhere, really. She’s a writer. She’s even come and crashed with me while I was filming.” Chris answered, hopping out of the truck when he got your text reply.

“Books? Scripts?” Tom asked, curious what you wrote.

“Books, mostly. She’s got a few popular series, but she also has a few pen names that she refuses to tell me so I’ve always assumed she like consults or edits or something.” Chris answered.

“How mysterious.” Tom chucked, grabbing his bag and following Chris up to the house.

“Y/n!” Chris yelled into the cabin, leading Tom into the large home.

“Did you really work all day and then drive 8 hours?” you laughed, walking down the stairs.

“I just couldn’t wait to see that beautiful face.” Chris dropped his bag and pulled you into a bear hug.

“Sure. This definitely has nothing to do with you beating Scott to one of the big bedrooms.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him.

“That’s just a perk.” He teased, introducing you to Tom. “I’m sure you know who this is. Y/n, Tom. Tom, Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” You replied, pulling Tom into a hug.

“It’s very nice to meet you too.” Tom said, happy to see that you seemed just as chill and down to earth as the rest of Chris’ friends and family.

“He had to bail on his plans to fly home for the break, so I convinced him to join our two weeks of amazing chaos and shenanigans.” Chris laughed.

“Amazing is right, bucko. I just got two hot tubs installed” you shared.

“Yes!” Chris half yelled.

“Also, mi casa es su casa, Tom. Make yourself at home.” You told him.

“Gracias.” Tom replied in Spanish.

“Any chance you two want to take a dip tonight before the rest of the pack arrives?” Chris asked, looking between you and Tom.

“Absolutely” you answered, walking towards the kitchen. “You both okay with Beer? I’ve got other options.”

“Beer for me.” Chris answered.

“Actually, a beer sounds rather refreshing at the moment.” Tom answered.

“I’ll grab the beer and you two can pick your rooms” you called from the kitchen.

“You down for the hot tub?” Chris asked Tom.

“I am, but I didn’t pack any swim shorts.” He answered.

“No worries, Y/n has a whole closet full of random stuff. Follow me.” Chris led Tom up the stairs. “Y/n’s room is at the very top, but there’s two rooms just below that. We can take those two. Let those with kiddos stay closest to the bottom floor.”

“Sounds good to me” Tom replied, dropping his bag on the bed before following Chris to your closet of misfit swim clothes, jackets, sleepwear, blankets, and other miscellaneous stuff.

When you made your way upstairs, you saw that the guys had picked the two rooms closest to yours. You weren’t surprised. They were the two biggest after yours and Chris never got to pick one of them because he was always the last to show up for his family get togethers.

“When you two get changed, head up to mine. The second hot tub is on my balcony.” You took the three unopened beers and went up the last set of stairs to get changed in your room. Your suit was a black balconette bikini top and a pair of black high waisted bikini bottoms. The top and bottom had a few strappy bits that accentuated your curves.

“Well hello there, sexy lady.” You heard Chris and his unending charm behind you as you were finishing getting your top all sorted.

“You guys get settled in?” you asked, nodding towards the beers.

Chris opened one and handed it to you. “We did.” As he opened another for himself and sat on your bed, he shared a bit about Tom. “I’m happy he tagged along. I don’t know what he’s got going on in his personal life because he doesn’t share a lot, but he needs a break like this.”

“Well, if I had to take a guess...” you took a swig of your beer. “You two get along great which makes me think he’s a down to earth, genuine person.”

“I agree” Chris replied.

“If you’ve seen any of the tabloids lately, they aren’t very friendly to the exes of the women he’s most recently dated. I’m going to assume he’s a bit overwhelmed and a bit worn out. It’s hard to stay genuine and down to earth when the media is writing about you as if you’re a scheming fuckboy.”

Chris took a swig of his beer. “I think you might be right. God, beauty and brains? Why won’t you marry me?” he teased.

“Like you could handle me” you teased right back.

“I’m going to go get more beer so we don’t have to leave the hot tub.” Chris stood and smacked your ass on the way out.

“How did I know you were going to do that?” you laughed.

Chris was laughing as he passed Tom. “I’ll meet you two up there.”

When Tom walked in, you opened the last of the three beers and handed it to him. “Pink suits you.” You noticed he was wearing the bright pink swim shorts from the closet.

Tom blushed and laughed as he took a sip of his beer. “It was this or ones with bananas all over them. I thought I’d make a bold choice.”

“Choice well made” you replied, opening the double doors to your balcony. “It’s going to be a short chilly journey to the hot tub, but heaven once you get in.”

When you went to walk up the steps on the side of the hot tub to get in, Tom extended his arm so you could grab his hand. “Be careful.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile.

“God, I leave for two minutes and you two are already holding hands.” Chris snarked as he joined the two of you on the balcony. You and Tom both laughed as you walked down into the hot tub and let go of his hand. “What’s he got that I don’t got?” Chris was fake sniffling as he climbed into the hot tub after Tom.

“Oh, sweetie. I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question.” You answered, finishing the beer in your hand.

“Now I really want to know” Chris replied, opening and handing you a second beer.

“Are you two always like this?” Tom laughed.

You and Chris looked at each other and answered “yeah” at the same time.

After the three of you had spent about a half hour in the hot tub just talking and laughing, Tom cleared his throat. “Thank you for this.”

“For what?” you asked. He was sat between you and Chris, the three of you looking out at the beautiful snowy mountain view.

“Chris, for inviting me. You, for having me. Both of you for forcing me to get out of my own head.” Tom answered.

“You don’t need to thank us.” Chris replied, slapping Tom on the shoulder.

“He’s right, you know.” You smiled, looping your arm through his and leaning your head on his shoulder, looking back out at the view. “You’re pretty great company if I do say so myself.”

“Well, if I can’t thank you, at least let me share my appreciation of you both.” Tom replied, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“Just wait until the whole pack shows up” Chris laughed. “It’s calm now, but you’re going to have plenty of distractions once the shenanigans start.”

“Remember, my room is the safe zone” you laughed. “No kids, it’s off-limits during games, and it’s the only access to this balcony.”

“I’ll keep that in mind” Tom chuckled.

Chris looked over and saw you cuddled into Tom’s side. “Why do I get the feeling you’re ‘appreciating’ Y/n over there a lot more than you are me” he teased.

You laughed and Tom looked over at Chris. “If you wanted a snuggle, that’s all you had to say.”

The three of you were all laughing, the lateness of the night sinking in. “If I snuggle anyone I’m going to fall asleep, and I have a feeling that’s not the best idea in a hot tub.” He stood up and hopped over the side, almost slipping on the icy balcony floor.

“What time is everyone arriving tomorrow?” you asked, not moving from your spot at Tom’s side.

“Well, they always grab breakfast down at that old little diner after they land, so maybe 11?” Chris answered, wrapping himself in a towel.

“You mean we actually get to sleep in?” you said with a bit of exaggerated shock.

“I don’t think it counts as sleeping in if you don’t go to bed until after the sun starts peaking over the mountains.” Tom teased you.

Chris laughed. “Hey, we’ll take it. Sleep is going to be a rare commodity around here for at least a few days.” He left the balcony and went back inside to warm up.

“I can’t wait.” Tom said.

“Me either. I love when they come up here. Always makes this place feel more like home.” You shared, moving to get out of the hot tub.

“I think the chaos is something I miss when I don’t get to spend time with my family.” Tom replied, once again grabbing your hand and making sure you made it safely out of the hot tub and onto the balcony. “I think having all of my nieces and nephews running around and the fact that there is always something cooking or baking…It’s hard to feel alone.”

You handed Tom a large towel and wrapped another one around yourself. “Well, if that’s your idea of a great time, you’re going to love your time with Chris’ family. They’re love and chaos and great food with a dash of an extreme love of competition.”

Tom followed you back into the house. “Well, again. I appreciate that I’m able to experience it.”

“Me too” you said, drying your hair a bit with your towel. “It sounds like you needed a bit of an escape.”

“That’s one way to put it” Tom said, drying off.

“Well, if you need anything just come find me, okay?” You could hear Chris coming back up the stairs to your room.

“Thank you, I will.” Tom replied, seeming to hesitate for a second. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you tonight. Or this morning, rather.” He laughed.

You couldn’t help but smile as you threw your towel into the clothes hamper. You were a very confident person. You were proud of who you were, and you loved your curvy body, but all of a sudden you felt very naked standing there in your bikini. Tom’s genuine compliment and the way he confidently looked you up and down left you with goosebumps. “The feeling is definitely mutual.”

“Let me know if I can help with anything. Preparations and such.” Tom mentioned as Chris walked in.

“Don’t worry about that, Ma usually takes over when she gets here.” Chris laughed.

You shrugged. “True” you added, both grateful for and irritated by the interruption.

“Y/n, I checked that all of the doors were locked. Our trucks are both locked too. I’m gonna pass out and shower when I wake up.” Chris let you know.

“Thanks” you replied. “I’ll probably hop in the shower before I go to bed so that I can help your mom sort meals and such out when she gets here.”

“Sweet. I’m going to bed.” Chris interrupted himself with a yawn. “I will see both of you in a few hours”

As Chris headed back down a floor to his room, Tom cleared his throat. “I really don’t mind helping.”

“You’ll eventually get roped into doing something, I promise.” You laughed.

Tom nodded and smiled. “Well then, I’m going to go shower and sleep. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Tom turned to walk down the stairs, you spoke. “Try to relax.” When he turned to look at you, you continued. “You have nothing to worry about for two whole weeks. No schedule, no paparazzi, no expectations…just, let yourself enjoy it, okay?”

Tom smiled and nodded his head. He replied “I think I will” before continuing down the stairs.

Instead of your alarm, you were woken up by Chris crawling into your bed. “Y/n.” He was trying to wake you up gently. “Y/n!”

“Did my alarm not go off?” you asked, rolling over and snuggling into Chris.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I underestimated my mother’s planning. Turns out they got to the diner at 8 this morning and they’re currently unloading the cabs downstairs.”

“What time is it?” you asked.

“9:30” Chris replied, the two of you hearing someone coming up the stairs.

“I’m going to need coffee” you mumbled.

Tom made it to the top of the stairs and saw you and Chris together in your bed. He tucked the thought away, making note to ask Chris about the two of you later. “Not a morning person?” he asked, laughing at your messy bed head and request for caffeine.

“I can be when I need to be, but we were awake and drinking on my balcony like four hours ago” you replied.

“Can I make you some coffee?” Tom offered.

You rolled over and sat up sorting out your messy hair. “I can make it. I just need to get dressed.”

Chris rolled out of your bed, going to your closet. “Bra, leggings, sweater, fuzzy socks.” Chris tossed your clothes onto your bed.

“You know me so well.” You laughed, gathering your clothes and getting out of bed. “I’ll be down in a few.”

“I think they’re finished unloading, but I’ll go see if there’s anything else they need help with.” Tom replied, heading downstairs.

“I’m offended that you two look like you’ve just had 12 hours of beauty sleep.” You teased Chris, pulling your leggings on.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself” Chris said, turning to leave. “You’ve definitely caught someone’s attention.” Chris had noticed the way Tom looked at the two of you cuddled up in your bed and planned on asking him about it later.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sleepily asked, but Chris was already gone.

You finished getting dressed in your long, oversized sweater and fuzzy socks and walked downstairs to greet Chris’ family.

“Y/n!” Chris’ sisters greeted, pulling you each into a hug, the three of you quickly catching up.

Then came Scott, who practically tackled you. “Bitch, it has been too long.”

“Agreed.” You replied, the two of you making plans to go get stuff for drinks tonight.

You’d said a few hellos and given a few hugs to various other friends and family and eventually you made your way to the kitchen with Tom and Lisa, Chris’ mom.

“Oh, my dear, it’s so good to see you.” Lisa pulled you into a tight hug, kissing both of your cheeks. “I can’t believe the boys showed up at three this morning!”

You laughed. “It’s good to see you too. And Chris warned me a few days ago that he would probably drive up after he finished filming.”

Looking over you saw Tom holding a mug of coffee out towards you. “For me?” You reached out and took the mug from him.

“It’s the least I could do. Lisa told me how you take your coffee.” He answered, nodding towards Chris’ mom.

You took a sip, humming to yourself. “Thank you, this is perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to Tom’s cheek before hearing Chris’ niece call for you.

“In the kitchen, sweetie” you called back out, walking towards where you heard her call from.

As the adults started getting settled into their rooms, the kids were all starting to crash from the hectic morning they’d had.

“Let’s watch a movie in the den, guys.” You suggested, grabbing blankets and pillows and throwing them on the couches and floor so that the kids would spread out and nap.

“What are we gonna watch?” one of his nephews asked.

“Well, we’ve got Goosebumps, we’ve got School of Rock, and we’ve got Bedtime Stories.” You read the movies aloud, with the kids all picking Goosebumps. About 15 minutes in, all of you were asleep in various places in the room.

Scott, Chris, and Tom were bundled up in their jackets talking on the back porch as Chris set up your grill and got it ready to use.

“So how long have you guys known Y/n?” Tom asked.

“Oh, god. It’s been…I don’t even know. It’s been years.” Chris thought about how long you guys had been friends.

“Chris met Y/n one day in New York. She was there for a book project or something and Chris had ducked inside her apartment building to get away from paparazzi.” Scott laughed, remembering Chris tell him the story.

Chris let out a big laugh. “She was getting ready to walk out and I practically ran into her. When she realized why I so rudely shoved my way into the building, she asked me ‘Do you want to do something very immature but totally worth it?’ I had to, right?”

Scott continued the story. “She led him up to her apartment and ran inside. Chris just waited at the door wondering what he’d gotten himself into when she popped back out, holding a box of water balloons.”

Tom laughed. “Oh, please tell me you threw them at the paparazzi.”

“They did. They filled a bin full of them and went to the roof.” Scott replied.

“I have never made a friend so quickly in my life” Chris said. “We got through about half of the bin before they left. Even better, they never got a picture of me throwing the balloons. The tabloids alluded to the fact that it was me, but we never officially got caught.”

“I don’t know if she adopted us or if we adopted her, but she’s been family ever since.” Scott added.

“Either way, she’s the best kind of people.” Chris said, closing the lid on the grill.

“I can see that.” Tom replied. After a short pause, he continued. “Have you two ever…dated?”

Chris grinned, remembering how Tom had looked at the two of you cuddled up in your bed. “Nah, she’s one of my best friends. Possibly my actual best friend.” he answered, sitting down next to the other two guys.

“Even though I’m sure ma would love it if you two got together.” Scott laughed.

“I think ma just wants both of us to settle down and have kids like the girls did.” Chris replied. “She treats Y/n like a daughter.”

Scott looked back at Tom. “Why the interest in Y/n’s dating life, huh?” he teased him.

“Just curious” Tom answered with straightest face he could manage.

“I don’t know” Chris continued, continuing to tease Tom. “You two looked awfully cozy last night.”

Tom’s cheeks blushed a bit before he could answer. “If a beautiful woman laid her head on your shoulder, what would you have done?”

“Fair point.” Chris laughed. “She’s single, you know” he added.

“She is” Scott echoed, smirking. “And I have a date to go shopping with her if you want me to see if she’s interested.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” Tom replied, failing miserably at hiding his grin.

“No rush” Scott answered, putting his hands up. “I’m just saying…”

“Give him a break” Chris interrupted. “He’s got two weeks to see where things go.”

“True” Scott replied.

Part 2

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #Tom Hiddleston x curvy reader #Loki

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lokiskitten · 3 years

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Loki Laufeyson | mommy issues

Loki x fem!reader

plot : Loki misses the presence of his deceased mother, and you are now 8 months pregnant. During a tough night, your husband decides to feed off your maternal milk.

Warnings : mommy kink, description of grief, description of pregnancy, breastfeeding, adult breastfeeding.

Rest. Rest was all you’ve been requested to submit to, as you now neared the moment where your child would wish to come out of the womb. Loki, your husband, had been of great support throughout your entire pregnancy, watching you and making sure you received everything your body and hormones could desire. However, this situation couldn’t help but remind the demigod of the mother he once loved, and once lost.

“So, what are we saying? I know it’s a boy, I can feel it! What do you think?” You energetically asked from where you laid as your hand gently caressed the bulging belly which grew over the months. But noticing that Loki wasn’t answering, your eyes looked up at the silhouette of the man you loved and who stood onto the balcony of your shared bedroom in Asgard. “Loki?” You notified again, eyebrows frowning lightly as you worried for your partner who seemed to be dipped into deep and concerning thoughts. His eyebrow raised, body slowly turning towards you as his hair gently moved due to the wind brushing against his dark locks. Suddenly, he seemed to remember about your question, and immediately snapped back. “Oh, a boy for sure.” He answered with a smile whilst making his way back inside of the warmth which contained the bedroom.

The demigod reached the bed, sitting down by your side as his hand rested onto your stomach. Unexpectedly, the baby turned inside of the womb, creating friction against the wall of your stomach. Both of you smiled, feeling amused by this gesture as it meant that the baby was doing well. “He’s a feisty one. Just like you, my love.” Loki purred before leaning in and placing a kiss onto your lips. However, the man continued to seem upset about whatever preoccupation had taken over his mind. You couldn’t help but feel concerned face to this saddening sight.

“What’s bothering you, Loki?” You asked, hand travelling up to his shoulder which you rubbed in a friendly manner. The powerful man shook his head, sigh escaping his lips as he even managed to put up a smile. The truth was, Loki’s mind was highly occupied by the thought of his deceased mom who he desperately missed. His green orbs looked up at your face, soon trailing down to your chest which he admired hungrily. A smirk immediately appeared on your now more reassured face. “What do you want?” You questioned teasingly, foot soon traveling up to his back, where you started to caress and rub alongside his spin.

“Mmmh, you.” The demigod answered before laying down by your side, stomach facing the bed sheets as his lips sprayed kisses against your jaw. Pregnancy drove most of your hormones wild, causing you to constantly crave for more and more pleasure coming from your partner, as if you now needed to receive sexual satisfaction for two persons instead of one. However, Loki was far from complaining about your outbursts. In contrary : he felt absolutely ravished about your new sexual pace.

Soon, the man’s lips reached down to your chest, cleavage on show as you were only dressed in a nearly transparent white night robe, which allowed your bulged stomach to receive the well needed space required for proper comfort and development. Loki’s eyes went motionless, lips parting slightly as he admired the way your breasts had developed through pregnancy, growing bigger exactly like your stomach did. But in fact, he wasn’t interested in the size of them, but by what they specifically contained.

Hesitantly, his hand moved up to your shoulder and allowed the strap of your robe to fall down your arm, setting your left breast free for him to admire and cherish. Your head tilted back, being aware of what was to come as you could nearly feel your nipple twitch out of envy and impatience. Licking his lips, the man’s fingertips caressed your sensitive areola, causing a few droplets of white liquid to drip out of your bud as soon as he started to tease it a little too much. Of course, you hadn’t noticed the little leak of milk which was unexpectedly occurring during this brief intercourse as your eyes were too busy focusing onto the black trap which was caused by your closed eyelids.

Without hesitating any longer, Loki finally took the decision to wrap his lips around your nipple, a moan escaping your mouth as a reaction face to the sudden contact of his warm tongue against your breast. This happy encounter caused your lower core to throb, begging for more coming from your sexual partner and love interest. The demigod soon started to hungrily suckle onto your fleshy mound, milk flowing out of your hardened bud which Loki happily tasted and swallowed. You continued to moan out of pleasure, experiencing this sensation you never got to go through before as it was the first time that Loki would allow himself to feed off your breast.

Backing away for air, the powerful man licked his lips to make sure that absolutely no drops would go to waist, gentle groan escaping his mouth as he decided not to waste any more time by remaining motionless instead of carrying on suckling onto your breast. Within a second, your nipple was found trapped again, the tip of Loki’s tongue rubbing against your areola and hard bud whilst milk continued to be extracted from your breast. The tasty liquid slid down his throat with ease, landing into his stomach and filling his mind with endless satisfaction and pleasure.

Once he estimated that he had had enough, Loki finally pulled away from your body and fell onto his back whilst panting, hand resting onto his now filled stomach as your brow lifted curiously. “Tired already?” You questioned teasingly, legs moving up to your bulged belly as your eyes looked down at your loving husband. But Loki remained stern, saddened almost, as getting to taste your nutriments couldn’t help but place him in a state of pure sorrow concerning his deceased mother.

Thanks for reading! Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or a request, and I will gladly answer them! 💜

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danniburgh · 3 years

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Sins of the Flesh (priest!Dave York x f!reader)

Pairing: priest!Dave York x f!reader

Summary: His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed. “Lord, have mercy on me.”

Word count: +10.9k

Warnings: religion! catholic religion to be precise, a lot A LOT of religious references and undertones (shot every time you find one lmao), age gap (around 15 years, reader is legal), smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex, breaking of celibacy vows!, catholic guilt, me making divine metaphors... i think thats it.

A/N: first of all this is all @asta-lily’s fault, she asked why no one had turned this man into a priest and i said “ok ill do it” so i did it, she is to blame. also i wanna say thanks to the pocket wives that encouraged this creation, sorry my loves, this isnt as slutty as yall thought lmao, and thanks to @alliterative-albatross who gave me all the bible verses that shaped this story as well. and i wanna thank the creator of this playlist that i listened over and over while writing this, and yeah, sorry for this monstrosity, love you <3

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

moodboard by @asta-lily

“So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.”–James 4:12.

Sunday 1.

Like a piece in a puzzle.

That’s how you fit in.

There, sitting in the middle of a ten people polished wood bench, eyes on the four feet tall crucified Jesus on the wall above the altar, ready for the first sermon you were to hear after coming back home.

Home. That was the name.

That church felt like home.

You were enjoying sitting there, among the children you met a couple of hours earlier when you were introduced to them as their new catechesis teacher, breathing in and out the myrrh incense burning and invading the navel and your lungs, filling them with new energy, getting them ready to feel the love that you were sure was about to pour over you.

You heard your name behind you and you turned around to see Mrs. Stevens, one of your mother’s friends waving at you from two rows behind.

“Hi, honey!” she smiled at you and immediately you reciprocated “I heard you were in town, are you staying this time?”

You drowned a chuckle inside your chest and bit your lip, nodding. Just realizing you even had missed the venomous messages hidden behind the kind words mouthed by old catholic moms.

“Yes, Mrs. Stevens, I’m staying this time.” you replied, the woman lifted her hand a bit to the sky and you smirked to her.

“God bless, I bet your mom is delighted you’re here!” she muttered “I know she missed you terribly all those years you were in that school.”

“It’s called college, Mrs. Stevens,” you reminded the woman, and she rolled her eyes, making you chuckle softly again “but do not worry for my mama anymore, I graduated, I’m staying for good.” you told her, amused at the way she acted as if you staying at home was some godsend blessing.

The organ began to play on the upper balcony behind everyone and you saw two altar boys, carbon copy of each other, almost rushing their way to the altar, and behind them… Father Dave.

You smiled softly at the sight of him as he walked solemnly to the altar, his green chasuble flowing with the air and the movement, there was a thought you had all those years you were away from home because of school, always coming back to Father Dave York: the young priest that decided to stay in the first congregation he was sent to, the one that became a pillar to the community, the holy man that held the direct link to God and that gave you your first communion, the one you missed when you went to attend mass at the church near campus because no one gave the sermons like he did. For some reason, whenever you least expected, you thought of him.

You saw him putting his bible on top of the pressed cloth over the altar, kneel and kiss the center of it and cross himself. And then, after he closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to himself and to God, he opened his deep brown eyes and he looked at you.

“Let us pray.”

Your mouth dried when his deep timbered voice, with the help of a small microphone on his altar, wrapped the entire navel and you with it, he looked at you as he cleared his throat and he opened his arms to the sky, breaking eye contact with you.

“Lord, have mercy.” he murmured, and the congregation replied to his prayer as you struggled to find the air that had escaped your lungs.

As Father Dave guided the congregation through the sermon and through the prayers, all you could see was him.

In some way, there was something different about him you hadn’t noticed the last time you were there; you didn’t know if it was something about his deep voice as he recited the credo by muscle memory, the way he walked from one side of the sanctuarium to the other as he talked about the scripture or the way his hands wrapped around the chalice when one of the altar boys handed it to him as the organ echoed all around the navel, announcing the communion.

You stood up and walked to the back of the line and sighed as he lifted the wafer to the sky, and your eyes closed by themselves when he lifted the chalice and took a sip from the sacramental wine and locked your eyes on him as the line moved.

As soon as you were in front of him your lips parted and he smiled at you softly.

“The body of Christ.” he murmured, his deep brown eyes on yours as they filled with tears.

“Amen” and you opened your mouth.

He put the wined wafer between your lips and his thumb brushed with your chin, making your skin burn as you brought it inside of your mouth with your tongue and forced yourself to walk away from him.

As you returned to your seat with the gold cross that hung from your neck between your fingers and kneeled to pray for the forgiving of your sins, all you could think of was brown, deep eyes, and a soft, brief touch on your chin that burned more than the wax of a burning taper.

Dave felt it.

The way you looked at him throughout the entire service.

And it made him feel different.

When you rose from your seat to walk to the communion line, he saw the way your body moved, almost as if you were floating instead of walking.

He knew you were back, and his heart was happy you were finally home.

But he didn’t expect to see you so changed.

And he didn’t expect the way your eyes had made him feel.

Then you were in front of him, and he smiled because he remembered the first time he handed the body of Christ to you, years and years before.

And your eyes filled with tears as his breath hitched when your lips parted for him as he fed you the sacred soul of the savior.

God, have mercy.

His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed.

Lord, have mercy on me. He thought as he entered the sacristy.

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”–Proverbs 28:13.

Sunday 2.

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” Dave heard your voice next to him and felt the air leave from his lungs. Not you, please God, not you.

You had been avoiding Father Dave for almost the entire week.

And you felt guilty about it.

You couldn’t even look at him in the eyes and not think about those dreams you were having about him.

If God was all love and perfection, why was he tempting you with dreams of Father Dave, his own servant, touching you in places you got shivers from, warming your body with his own, putting his mouth on your skin as you repeated his name like it was the sanctus?

Holy, holy, holy.

Why was God putting inside your head the sins of the flesh you had already asked forgiveness for? Why was he making you desire a forbidden man? A man that was not to be perceived as a man but as the representation of him on earth.

That morning, when you walked into the church to impart the catechesis class, you saw Jesus on the cross and you saw him look at you. And you knew he knew.

All omnipresent, all omniscient, all omnipotent.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Almighty God why were you thinking about him so much?

And the resolution in your mind was asking for forgiveness, you needed to pay penitence for those thoughts you knew you did.

But were you really about to confess to the man you had been dreaming about that he was invading your every thought?

“It has been two weeks since my last confession.” you mumbled, playing with your cross over your neck, Dave breathed in deeply and intertwined his hands on his lap.

“What are your sins?” he asked, closing his eyes as he remembered his own.

Dave was always a man of faith. It was in him from birth. He had been taught and trained to not fall into any temptations and so far his life had been devoted and dedicated to God and only to God.

But your eyes and the way you saw him, and the way your eyes made him feel when they locked on his, had him spiraling down into decadence.

Sometimes, dedicating his life to the word of the Lord made him forget he was still a human, he was still a man.

He had needs.

And he was alright before your eyes. Before your holy eyes were on him.

He had dreamed of them; he had thought of them; he had imagined them when he was in the limbo between sleep and awakeness.

He had dreamed of your lips, of your lips on his skin, he had thought of those lips that just looked like they needed someone to wet them and bring them back to life; he had imagined those lips of yours in places of his body he swore never to use.

He had prayed for them to disappear; he had begged to his God to erase those thoughts of his mind and free them from the temptation that was incarnated in you, in your body, in your eyes that denied to see him when you were in the same room, in your hands as you moved them to teach the children, in your legs trapped in the tight denim of your jeans, in your lips as you smiled to everyone but him, in your entire being, just by existing.

But they had increased, like a tamed flame sprayed with gasoline. He had a fire in his chest, one that was spreading through him as he was closer to you.

He needed them gone; he had sworn to never look at a woman as an object of desire; he had sworn on his life and he had vowed his commitment.

But you were there, kneeling next to him, separated by the thinnest patterned panel, holding the matches and the fuel.

“I’ve been having… improper thoughts, father,” you whispered, closing your eyes and left your necklace alone, clutching your hands together as tight as you could, you felt the aura change and the air grow thicker between him and you, “about a man.”

Dave opened his eyes at your confession and frowned. A man?

He knew you could tell him whatever you wanted; he knew he wasn’t allowed to ask in for details; he knew he was only there functioning as a link for you to get absolved from your sins and you were a young woman granted of free will and enough time to ask for absolution but he wanted to know; he needed to know who that man was.

“He is ol–older than me,” he heard you mumble and his hands tightened their grip on each other “and I can’t have him, father, I–I’ve been having these thoughts about a forbidden man.”

Dave’s mind went reeling, and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t like to assume about the life of his congregation members, he never did, but you were talking to him, after he had been dreaming about you for days, after you two shared something about desiring another man. And he was angry. He wanted to know who. He wanted to know who was keeping your mind the same way you were keeping his.

“He keeps me up at night, thinking of him, that is,” you whispered “I’ve–Jesus,” you let out the air of your lungs and Dave breathed in deeply once more “I’ve touched myself thinking of him.” you said under your breath and Dave felt his chest tug and turn.

“Does this man… know what he is causing in you?” he muttered with a frown and heard you sigh.

“No, I don’t want him to.”

“Alright, child,” he replied after a few seconds, and made a grimace of disgust at the pet name. It felt wrong, and he felt dirty with the word on his mouth, “do you repent these sins?”

“Yes, father, I do.” you closed your eyes at his words and wanted, for once, to be brave and tell him he was the one roaming around your mind. But it wasn’t fair.

“Please, recite in silence the act of contrition,” he muttered to you and you obeyed, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

As he waited for you to finish, he did the same on his side of the confession box

I’m choosing to sin and failing to do good.

“Amen.” you said, and he murmured the word to the ceiling.

“I think the word you do for the church,” he started, and you wrinkled your nose at the thought of him knowing it was you “the devotion you have, and how you repent, you don’t need to pay penance,” he muttered separating his hands and putting two fingers on the edge of the patterned panel that separated the two of you “through the ministry of the church,” your breath hitched as he whispered the words to you, and you saw with teary eyes the shadow of his fingers on the panel “man God give you pardon and peace,” you bit your lip and unclutched your hands, lifting your fingers and pressing it to his as two heavy tears fell from your eyes.

Dave felt the pressure of your touch and felt his hand tremble.

“And I ab–absolve you from your sin.” he said under his breath, pressing back.

“Thank you, father.” you whispered, not moving your fingers. You could feel the warmth of his through it and for a few seconds, you could also feel his eyes on your face.

Dave was the one to break the contact first. Absentmindedly brushing his fingers on his stole as he saw the shadow of you move and get out of the confession box.

He sat there, thankful you were the only one that morning and thinking about what you had told him.

A man of God, a man of hope. He had hoped, even if it was a sin and even if it was forbidden by pure creed and vow, that you were feeling the same as he was.

For a moment, he wondered about those thoughts… Were you thinking about that lucky old man touching you? Were you thinking about that man kissing you? What did that man look like? He wanted to be that man; he wanted to be the one whose touch you desired; he wanted to be that man you thought of as you sneaked your hand inside your underwear at night and brought yourself to pleasure. He wanted to be the one whose kiss you yearned for as your sex ached for attention; he wanted to be the one whose fingers you imagined as your own were buried deep inside you.

He fisted the flesh of his thigh over his dress pants and forced himself to stop thinking of you like that.

Dave stayed inside the confession box for twenty minutes more, praying for forgiveness, as he had done every night since you had been back.

At service, he saw you further back on the benches and he tried not to sneak glances at you as you sat there with your precious eyes on the crucifix above him, avoiding him at all costs.

And at communion, he tried not to brush your soft skin with his fingers as he fed you the wined wafer, failing when his knuckle brushed your cheek, his chest deflating when he noticed the way your face quirked in pain when you muttered Amen at him. Dave tried not to make anything of the fact that you kneeled more time than anyone else on the congregation after receiving the communion.

And when the service was over and he was alone in the sacristy, he tried and failed to not think about your skin, your eyes, your hands and your lips all over his neglected body.

That sunday night Father Dave masturbated in the shower thinking about you with your fingers deep inside you as his mind imagined it was him you thought of when you touched yourself in the darkness of the night and prayed for forgiveness.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that.

“Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.”–1 Peter 2:11.

Sunday 3.

“Father, sh–shit,” you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning as your pointer and middle fingers circled your wet clit under the covers of your bed, your legs spread open, the soft cotton of the sheets grazing softly at your inner thighs as you imagined your fingers being one of Father Dave’s, as you imagined him next to you, with his arm above your head as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and nibbled at your neck while his other hand played your clit like a master pianist. You imagined the hardness of his erection pressing patiently on the skin of your hip, wetting it with pre-semen, making your body burn with the feeling of his warm naked body beside you.

As your other hand played with your nipple you imagined his eyes taking you in, you imagined his lips on your skin, were they soft? you bet they were, and you bet as well his hand would be surprisingly rough for a priest.

“Jesus, fu–fuck.” the knot inside your lower belly exploded with the thought of him and his hand and his body and his lips and his priesthood and you came with a silent scream that made your ears ring for a few seconds and your legs tremble on the bed.

As you hazed out, ready to fall asleep again before your alarm went off to go to work at the church, you felt that familiar guilt cripple inside you and settle in your chest, warming up and leaning against your heart.

Dave was panting, he fisted his hand as he leaned on the tiled wall of his shower and his other hand moved desperately on his cock. The water was still warm, and he closed his eyes shut as he imagined it was your hand on him, giving him the pleasure he was seeking, as he imagined you were behind him, your lips brushing against the wet skin of his back, your free hand around his chest, gliding softly at his skin, making him whimper with your touch.

It was so early for him to be so hot over you again; it wasn’t good for him to give into these desires he had and had been praying so hard and so much to get rid of.

He didn't want to keep doing it and he surely didn’t feel good after it, but his body ached for you, his chest turned every time he thought about you, every time he saw you around the church, he felt the deepest, hottest desire for you and your hands and your body and he just couldn’t help it.

His hand gripped and pumped as fast as he could and he came with a silent groan, opening his eyes as he finished milking every drop of his seed and watched it mix with the shower water and go down the drain. Along with the decency and morality that was left inside him.

You heard your name being said, and you turned around as you finished picking up your things from the small desk you used to teach the catechism; you saw Mrs. Vega, the church custodian, a small, old lady that had known you forever, walking towards you.

“I’m sorry dear, but I want to ask you for something.” she said when you smiled at her.

“Of course, Mrs. Vega, what is it?” you put your small book inside your bag and hung it from your shoulders.

“You see, the little twins that help Father Dave are sick today,” you frowned at the mention of Father’s Dave name but let out a sad sigh at her statement, “and they can’t come help with the service, you’re the youngest of the teachers, could you do it?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and felt your stomach churn inside you at the thought of standing next to the altar for a whole service.

“Me?” you asked, your voice in a high pitch as Mrs. Vega reached for your arm and tugged you to walk out of the chapel and into the navel of the church.

“Yes, dear, remember only the youngest get to do it.” she obviated, pulling you with her to the transept and up two steps to the sanctuarium “you only need to hand him the communion things and the holy water, I will prepare everything for you.”

“Why don’t you do it?” you asked in a whisper, not daring to take a step further closer to the altar. Mrs. Vega turned to look at you, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Since when are you shy, girl?” she asked with a teasing smile “I remember you singing in that kiddie choir we used to have and doing it terribly,” you chuckled at the memory and bit your lip “it’s only until the boys get that bug they got out of them.” she palmed your arm, and you breathed in deeply.

You looked up at the crucified Jesus above the altar and silently begged him for anticipated forgiveness.

Dave almost cursed when he saw you standing next to the altar as he walked across the navel.

The thought of who would replace Bobby and Chris on their altar duties didn’t even cross his mind as he was more worried about praying for the boys and sending them some sweets and pleading for the cleansing of his soul after the incident on his shower earlier that morning.

As he stepped up to the sanctuarium your eyes locked on his and he noticed you lips parting when he nodded his chin once at you, he noticed the way you swallowed as you nodded back and for a brief second, his imagination ran wild and made him believe you felt the same way as he did about you.

Even if it was the wrongest thing to think about.

It was like torture.

An hour of torture.

You got to see him kneel behind the altar and kiss the white pressed cloth softly as he stood, as you wanted and wished to be the altar’s cloth he pressed his plump lips on, he crossed himself and you mimicked his movements. And for a brief fraction of a second, as he opened his arms to the sky, you saw him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. And his eyes burned in your skin, they made you feel like your chest was aflame.

The communion time arrived, and he turned to you as you grabbed the chalice with the wine, his eyes locked with yours and you felt them weigh heavy on your body.

Dave couldn't concentrate, he felt on his side the way you were looking at him. It was heavily distracting for him to have you there, in his space, so close to him.

His hands brushed yours when he took the chalice from you and he stood there for less than a second, his fingers on yours. His soft touch and warm skin made your lips tremble with the emotion that touching him gave you. You felt a shiver go up and down your spine and the small hairs of your nape rose as his hands trapped yours.

You caught your lip between your teeth as he broke the contact and you knew he noticed; he looked at your lip as you bit it, and you blushed under his and God’s gaze.

You watched him and he felt you observing him as he prepared the wafers and wined them inside the chalice.

Your throat knotted when he lifted the cup to the sky and you felt your mouth dry as he brought the rim to his lip and his neck strained while he took a sip of the sacramental wine.

Because of the closeness you could see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed the wine, you noticed a small drop of the crimson red liquid escape from his lips and the way he trapped it with his tongue settled deep inside your belly and leaked through your sex.

The pain of the greatest guilt you’ve ever felt in your short life appeared again and clawed its way inside your chest and to its now usual spot right next to your heart, you were struggling to keep your thoughts at bay; you were looking at Father Dave, right in front of you, doing what he dedicated his life to, and you were imagining him using his hands on your body instead of handling the instruments of the church.

Would he touch you like that? would he treat you with the same delicacy as he treated the body of Christ? would he caress you as softly as he did the chalice? would his mouth be warmed with your taste as it was by the wine he drank?

Dave turned to you and he saw you clutching your hands together, you walked towards him slowly, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you moved, almost as if air went through you, as if instead of giving steps your feet barely touched the floor because you were floating.

Everything slowed down, the music of the organ in the balcony, the prayers of the congregation, even the way he moved slowed down so he could focus on your face; on your sweet eyes, those that had brought into him the feeling of humanity, on your soft skin that had scorched his hand when he dared brushed his fingers on it, on your lips, those lips that he couldn’t pray out of his head.

He lifted his hand with the wined wafer, and even the way those holy lips of yours parted was slowed down.

Your eyes connected with his and Dave felt it in his body, deep inside his stomach, the temptation, the whispers of his mortal body as it reacted to your actions; he put the wafer between your lips delicately and pushed it inside your mouth, and then, as if by the grace of God in the heavens, you closed your mouth while he did it, and your lips wrapped softly around the pad of his finger as he pulled them away from you.

And just like that, the world started moving at its usual pace.

His skin tasted sweet. And you spent the rest of the service thinking about what other parts of him would taste like that.

Would his neck taste the same if you kissed it? would his chest feel like that if you nibbled on it? would his lips be that warm or would they be warmer?

Dave’s finger was burning.

He wanted to chop it off his hand just to stop feeling that flesh-eating guilt of enjoying your lips, your soft, warm lips around it, touching his skin, wetting it with the slick of your mouth.

After the service ended and Dave blessed the congregation, he saw you rush to the exit and he felt the sting of the guilt and the sadness. He wanted to talk to you and offer his apologies before you went home.

Sunday 4.

You weren’t there.

And Dave missed your eyes on him.

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”–Romans 12:1.

Sunday 5.

As soon as you walked into the church you felt the eyes of all omnipresent beings on your body. As if the desire that burned deep inside your body left marks all over your skin, that could be visible for all those that looked carefully enough.

You heard your name behind you and jumped slightly, startled. You turned around and felt your blood fall to your feet.

“Father Dave,” you muttered, more to help yourself acknowledge the fact that there he was, standing in front of you, out of habit, his white tab collar was the only piece of his attire that hinted the fact that he was a priest. You tried to control your body as you felt instantly that flame inside your chest beginning to spread.

“You weren’t here last week,” he said, hesitating to step closer to you “are you okay?”

You nodded a few times and bit your lip to stop it from trembling.

“Are you sure?” Father Dave asked, and you dropped your eyes to the floor and saw him give a couple of steps towards you, your breath hitched and your entire body began to shiver when you felt his hand on your arm “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“What?” you looked up to see him and you could notice his pained quirk, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed and his lips… those lips you had spent all but two weeks imagining printing themselves and making marks on your skin, on a sad, downwards line.

“Can I please talk to you?” he said again in a whisper and you opened your mouth to reply, but only air came out, “please?”

His deep brown eyes were on yours and you felt your chest turn by the feeling of having him so close. You nodded, and he turned to the sides, as if he was making sure there was no one there, and guided you to the sacristy.

“What are you doing?” you asked, a bit altered when he opened the door and let you in first, followed you and closed the door behind him.

“I just needed to be alone with you for a minute,” he clarified, you let your eyes wander around the small space where he got ready every day for the services instead of letting them settle on him, because you knew being that close to him wouldn’t help your situation at all “I wanted to apologize.”

You frowned and looked at him. He had his back almost glued to the door and his hands together, his thumbs fidgeting with each other.

“Apologize for what?” you muttered, and he sighed.

“I’m–I make you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.”

Dave felt stupid telling you that, but it was his truth; he spent every free moment of his days when you weren’t near him thinking maybe it was because of him. It would make sense, that you didn’t want to be there because you didn’t like his closeness, that you didn’t want to be there because he was taking advantage of his position to steal glances and give furtive touches.

He understood, but you were an excellent woman, devoted and committed to the congregation, and he knew he needed to stop or you would leave and he would never see you again. And he couldn’t have that.

“You aren–you…” you babbled, and then the look he gave you made you lose your words.

His eyes were all over you. And you could feel them on your skin, how they took you in, how they navigated through your body and every inch of you was immediately on fire.

Then he looked at your face and you swore you could see in his brown eyes the deepest form of devotion there was. And your mouth was agape and your eyes filled with tears and suddenly he was in front of you and his hands were orbiting your face.

“Can I touch you?” he said, and you nodded.

He cupped your face, and you felt his warm, rough hands scorching your skin as you closed your eyes. His warmth started mixing with your own and you could feel him inside you already. It was as if everything you needed in life was already there.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you whispered, closing your eyes as his fingers started caressing the skin of your face, tracing your features “I swear you don’t”

Dave let out a sigh when his thumb traced the edge of your lips and he so wanted to lean down and take them in his. There had been so long since he last kissed someone and he, for a split second, forgot everything about him and the only thought in his mind was you.

“I don’t?” he asked under his breath as a tear rolled down your cheek and he brushed it off with his knuckles, you shook your head and opened your eyes and he felt his heart fill with the purest love he had ever felt in his life “you swear?” you curled your lips up and nodded twice.

“Can I tell you something?” you muttered, looking up at him and losing yourself in the depths of his brown eyes.

“Always.”

You allowed your hands to slide to his shoulders and you let out a relieved sigh. They fit perfectly.

“Yo–you are…” he nodded his chin, his hands still cupping your face softly as his eyes studied your face, you let out a trembling sigh and grabbed as much courage as you had left within you “you are the man I’ve been thinking of all this time.”

Dave widened his eyes and the movements of his hands stopped, he looked at you, searching for any hint of mischief or lie, searching for something that could tell him you were lying, that you were playing with him. But there was none.

“That’s why I wasn’t here last week,” he heard you say as he felt his heart burn with the flames of his desire and love “I was embarrassed after what happened at the communion.”

You looked at him for a second, waiting for the rejection, waiting for him to tell you what you already know, that he can’t for you what you wanted him to be, that he can’t give you what you wanted as his duty was with God and not with the mortals, let alone with a woman.

Father Dave had resigned to the pleasures of the mundane world; you knew that, but you also knew he deserved to know, even if nothing would happen.

“Am I?” he asked you, bewildered after such confession, you nodded and moved your hands to cup his face, a gesture that made him close his eyes. You wondered when was the last time, if ever, he had been touched like that “we can’t” he replied, opening his eyes and leaning in to you.

You could feel his breathing mixing with yours as the implications of his words fell on you.

“We can’t” he repeated, pushing his forehead to yours as you trembled under his touch.

“You want to?” you asked him and Dave asked for guidance in his mind as you started crying and wetting his hands. He nodded, and you sobbed.

“I can’t” he whispered, and you shook your head as he looked at you pouring your feelings from your eyes.

“Kiss me.” you pleaded, looking into his brown, deep eyes. Making him frown.

“What?”

“If you’re not gonna give me anything, at least kiss me.”

His face quirked from confusion to pain in an instant, and you gripped the hold on his face.

“Please, Dave.”

Dave sighed at the way you whispered his name without calling him a father, and deep inside him he was grateful. With you he didn’t feel like a man of god, with you, letting him touch you and touching him back, he only felt like a man. Like the man he never got the chance to be.

“I–I” he started, and you shook your head. Dave looked into your eyes and all the air he had stored in his lungs left his body in a hurry, you were the most precious being he had ever seen, and for a second, he wanted nothing but to make worth the fact he had you in his hands “shit.” he said under his breath.

Dave brought your face up to him and printed his lips on yours, stealing the little air and the close to no coherence you still had in you. You let out a soft moan out of the surprise and out of the feeling of your entire body warming up to his temperature.

His lips were as soft and as wars and better than you had imagined, they were a bit dry and hesitant on yours, but the contact of them with yours made you feel like you were floating away from the realm of the living.

Dave didn’t want to stop kissing you. He didn’t remember the last time he had kissed a woman, and in that moment he wasn’t kissing any woman he was kissing you; the precious being that had been in his mind for weeks and that had never left.

Unsure of his movements, he let you take control of the contact and soon enough you were sliding the tip of your tongue along the seam of his lips, Dave let out a surprised grunt and opened his mouth slightly of you, and you took his lower lip with your mouth. And he let you kiss him all you wanted, enjoying the contact of your slow, wet, warm lips on his less experienced ones until he was sure his lungs were screaming from the lack of air.

When he broke the kiss, he left a small one on your forehead and pressed his lips there and you closed your eyes to feel him settle inside you

“I’m sorry.” you whispered to his neck. And he nodded slightly.

“Me too.”

“But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”–Matthew 5:28.

Sunday 6.

Your knuckles grazed softly with the sacristy door and you heard the muffled noise of the latch and the door opened.

“Hi,” you smiled and Dave looked at you up and down “got your text.”

“Come in.” he motioned his hand for you to hurry and you turned your head to both sides and walked into the sacristy, closed the door behind you and slid the latch.

Immediately after the door was locked, you felt his hands on your waist and his chin on your shoulder.

“This is why you texted me?” you teased and he moved to let a kiss on your jaw.

“I missed you.” he muttered and turned your body around for you to face him.

“You didn’t.” you smiled at him and wrapped your hands around his neck, grateful for the apparently deliberate choice of him to take off his tab collar.

“Yes, I did, I missed you all day.” Dave leaned towards you and took your lips in his, already knowing, after less than a week’s practice, how you loved being kissed.

His lips were as warm as they always were, his tongue barely present if not just to taste the sweetness of your lipstick, his hands always steady on your waist, and at the end, his forehead on yours, just taking in your breaths with his.

“Mass starts soon.” you said, and he nodded, sliding his hands to your middle back to wrap you closer to him.

“I know.” he left another brief kiss on your lips.

“You gotta get dressed.” you murmured against his lips.

“I know.” he muttered back and kissed you again.

“Want me to help?” you asked under your breath, just for him, as if you saying it as low as you could would stop God from listening.

“Yes, I would love that.” Dave replied and gave into another deep kiss that stole both your breath and made you want to stop the time so you could kiss until your lips fused together.

“C’mon you need to get ready.” you broke the kiss and stepped away from him, making him smile. You wandered around the sacristy and found his tab collar. You sighed and took it in your hands.

Dave looked at you and noticed the way you looked at the soft plastic piece, he walked towards you and raised his hand to grab yours. As you felt his hand on yours; you turned your head to look at him and smiled softly, and you moved your hands, raising them to carefully lift the collar of his shirt and clasp the piece around his neck.

“You okay?” he asked in a whisper, you nodded and bit your lip at the sight of him in front of you.

Dave moved and walked to the small table against a wall with a large bowl of water and you gazed at him as he washed his hands and whispered a few words. You leaned onto the wall just looking at him go to a small cabinet near the opposite corner and took a white, folded linen garment, which he unfolded and you recognized as the long robe he used under all his attire.

He slid it off and whispered another prayer again as he let it fall and graze his ankles. His eyes went to you and you smiled at him, he next grabbed a green square that you also recognized and you walked to him and took it out of his hands.

“Let me do it” you whispered, and he nodded, you unfolded the long stripe that was the stole and found its middle, Dave crouched a bit to help you and you let it fall around his neck over his shoulders.

“Return to me the stole of immortality,” he whispered, looking at your eyes, your throat dried at the deepness of his voice “which I have lost in the sin of my first parent and although I, unworthy,” he continued and took your hand in his “approach thy sacred mystery grant to me everlasting joy.”

You gripped his hands and felt your throat knotting around itself.

“Why are you praying to me?” you asked under your breath. He cupped your chin with one hand and brought you close to his face.

“You’re holy.” he whispered and left a soft kiss on your lips.

“Stop it.” you chastised him and he shook his head, giving you a soft smile that you reciprocated immediately.

You turned to the table and saw a long, golden cord and you took it.

“Not that one.” he muttered, and you frowned.

“Why not?” you saw him taking a deep breath as he took it from your hand and left it back on the table.

“The cincture… it means chastity and continence.” he replied under his breath and you let out all the air of your lungs as he took his chasuble and put it on without looking at you.

“Dave.” you called, and he lifted a hand to you as he said the last prayer. When he finished, he looked at you and as if he read your mind, he smiled at you and shook his head.

“Don’t,” he whispered, taking you again in his hands and pulling softly so your head rested on his shoulders “don’t apologize please.”

“I need to,” you mumbled against the light fabric of the green chasuble “I’m keeping you from your vow.”

Dave grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from his body, his hands slid to your face and you gripped his wrists as he brought your face to his.

“You’re not doing anything, my love,” he muttered the last words directly on your lips as he stole a few kisses from your trembling mouth “you’re perfect,” he panted out and you shook your head “I’m doing this because I want to, please understand it,” he kissed you again, a bit more desperately “you’re the most divine creation I’ve ever laid my eyes and hands upon,” he whispered rapidly on your lips “and I want you to be mine.”

You gasped as the words left his mouth, and he gazed at you.

“Dave...” you started, but he didn’t let you finish, he wrapped his arms around you and brought your body to his, tightening the embrace as he thought of the implications of what he just asked.

Dave lifted his eyes to the ceiling and for the first time in years, with you slowly wrapping your arms around his waist, exactly over the place the cincture was supposed to go around, and the sweet aroma of your perfume inundating his senses, he felt really close to heaven.

“I want you to be mine too.” you whispered into his ear, and he smiled, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

“How beautiful and pleasant you are, O loved one, with all your delights!”–Song of Solomon 7:6.

Sunday 7.

You stirred on your seat again, the organ was playing the latest song before Dave would bless the congregation and wrap up the service and you were nervous.

You glanced at the crucified Jesus above him and you felt his eyes on yours; you felt him shove his holy hand on your chest and as the last notes of the song inundated the navel, you felt your throat sting with the green tint of your deep guilt, but at the same time, the rest of your body drown with the red warmth of your love and desire for Dave.

Is it worth it? you heard inside your head and your immediate response was yes.

Eternal damnation in exchange for a few hours of love. It was condemnedly worth it.

The service was over and you stood up with the rest of the congregation; you talked with a few people on your way out of the church and slowly and patiently you waited for everyone to disperse.

You walked around the gardens outside the church and slid between the gate that marked the beginning of Dave’s small house inside the church grounds. You rummaged around your small bag and pulled out the key he had given you earlier and with nervousness and the familiar guilt settled next to your heart; you let yourself into his house.

You turned on the lights. The space wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small and everything around smelled like him. For a priest’s home, the place lacked religious imagery, and you automatically chastised yourself for thinking about his priesthood again.

You sat on the loveseat next to the door as you waited for him and got dragged inside your head again; you talked about doing that throughout the week and you had agreed it was something you both wanted. But your head sent you through an unwanted train of thought and you sat there, thinking about the future. Something you hadn’t talked about.

After all, he would still be a priest and you would still be a young member of his congregation. You could spend time with him and let you love him and let him love you as much as you two wanted, but in the future… what else was there for you?

You could never ask him to leave his habit for you, you could never ask him to leave his life for you, you could never do something like that to him. But you were unsure if something like that had any other path but failure.

The door opened and there he was, unclasping his tab collar and dropping it on the end table as you rose from your seat and walked to him. He smiled at you and his hands found his place on your waist.

“You’re here.” he said, not surprised but relieved.

As he took off his attire in the sacristy and walked to his house from the church, he had a few minutes to think about what he was about to do. He didn’t allow himself to overthink it because if there was something he knew was that he wanted it; he wanted it more than he had wanted anything in his life. He couldn’t explain it even if he tried, but he knew there was something about you that made him feel human, there was something about you that made him feel like he belonged somewhere, maybe the way you talked to him, maybe the way you kissed him, maybe the way you always seemed to understand the moral and spiritual dilemma he was in. He didn’t know, but he knew that he loved you, even if he wasn’t supposed to, even when he wasn’t allowed.

And as he thought of it, love was one of the laws of the God he represented, and he felt it deeply.

“I’m here.” he pulled you to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded.

“Thank you.” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, shaking your head at him.

You felt his lips on yours as they re-discovered your kisses and his hands roamed to your middle back to press your chest to his.

You were amazed by how fast he had learned how you liked to be touched, how you liked to be kissed and caressed, as if he was just trying to commit to memory everything you ever wanted and he wanted to do it to you to please you.

Dave slid his hands from your back down to your hips and moved you softly to the side, without breaking the kiss he snaked his hands to the back of your thighs and lifted you. You smiled in his mouth and wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked to his bedroom.

When you crossed the doorframe you started leaving small kisses on the skin of his neck and he sat on the edge of his bed with you in his lap, you were already feeling the hardness growing inside his pants and his hands started grazing up and down your thighs as he let you taste his neck how you best pleased.

Dave was in a haze. He understood then the power of physical touch combined with deep love; it enhanced the sensations, the flame inside his chest was burning him from the inside out with a deep desire he was sure he had never felt before, and you were there, moving slowly on his lap as you devoured the skin of his neck and kissed slowly around his jaw.

“Dave,” you whispered as you licked his earlobe and pulled out a shiver from him, he hummed in question “touch me.”

He didn’t hesitate on questioning where, his hands roamed all around your body, they were big and warm and they were rough; you cupped his jaw with both hands and took his lips in yours with a wet, open-mouthed kiss that he followed as his hands snuck inside your shirt and you moaned softly at the feeling of skin to skin.

You moved out of his lap and stood up in front of him, Dave let out a soft whine at the sudden loss of your weight on his body but stopped when you moved his legs open and stood between them.

“Take off my shirt, please.” you told him, not in an order but he obeyed, he grabbed the hem of it and lifted it, you raised your arms and felt his lips on your rib side as you finished taking it off and dropped it on the floor behind you.

Dave put his hands around your torso and licked your skin experimentally, which made you gasp at the feeling of his wet tongue against your skin and he smiled to himself, doing it again and nibbling on the same spot softly.

His hands slid to your waist and without being told to he unbuttoned your jeans and dragged them down slowly, his eyes directly on yours. You smiled at him with your reddened, kiss-swollen lips and he felt your smile settling inside his lower belly, his cock twitching inside his pants.

You put your hands on his shoulders as he helped you out of your shoes and jeans and when you were there, standing in front of him only in your underwear, he swore there wasn’t anything more divine than your body.

You sank on your knees and your hands landed on his thighs, Dave’s throat clutched and his chest turned as you smiled at him and your hands slid to his belt, you raised your eyebrows as if asking for permission and he nodded a few times, leaning backward into his hands to give you space for you to do whatever you wanted to him.

You unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, his breath hitched when your fingers hooked to the hem of both his pants and his boxers, and then he lifted his hips for you to pull them off him. Dave smiled when he saw you bite your lip at the sight of his hard cock resting on his abdomen. It did something unexpected on what he thought was his dead ego, but he loved the way you looked at it.

“Take off your shirt.” you said and again, without it being an order, he obeyed. Unbuttoned it as quickly as he could and slid it off his shoulders as you leaned over his lap and took his erection on your hand, your thumb grazing softly the tip and he threw his head back between his shoulders.

“Oh, my love.” he sighed out as you started pumping slowly and when he closed his eyes, you licked the underside and wrapped your lips around the tip, making him gasp.

You took it slowly, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum as it came out of him, pumping the rest you couldn’t fit inside your mouth with your hand.

Dave forced his eyes open and moved his head down to watch you, he shivered when he found you already looking at him; he moved his hand to your face and with his knuckles caressed your cheek, making you smile with his cock inside your mouth.

For him, looking at you on your knees between his legs was like looking at a sacrosanct painting; your lips around him taking as much of his length as you could, your saliva dripping from his dick to your hand, bobbing your head up and down as your eyes, those holy eyes that never left his, it was a pleasure he never thought he would get in his earthly life.

He felt himself close to cumming, and he pushed your head softly upwards, you rose from your knees and clashed your messy lips onto his and he wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands roaming around the skin of your back. His fingers played with the back of your bra and he broke the kiss for a few seconds to unhook it and help you slide it off, you smiled when he sighed at the sight of your breasts in front of his face and he pulled you flush against his head, taking a nipple in his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue around the soft skin of your nipple made you cry out his name softly and arousal gathered between your legs. One of his hands rested on your other boob and kneaded delicately as you fisted his hair in your hand. Dave moved his mouth to your other nipple and lapped at it before trapping it inside his mouth, you pressed his head to your chest and let out a moan when his teeth grazed your nipple as he released it.

“I wanna taste you.” he muttered against your boob and you smiled at him, nodding.

He moved you softly to lie down on the bed; the sheets were cool and soft and he stood on the edge, taking you in again, studying your body.

He leaned down to you and you opened your legs to make space for him; he hovered over your body and kissed you again, softly, as if you were back in time to the first kiss he gave you in the sacristy, as if he wasn’t about to devour your body.

His kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck and your chest, he left one in each nipple, making you laugh, he left a trail of them over your belly and one over your belly button. As he kissed your abdomen and your thighs, you looked at the ceiling and you smiled at whoever was watching.

Dave took the hem of your panties on his fingers and you lifted your hips for him to slip them off you, you lifted your legs and he unhooked them from your ankles, grabbing your calves and opening your legs again. He gulped when he saw your wet, expectant pussy right in front of him and looked at your flushed face. He leaned down and left kisses around your thighs without breaking eye contact.

“Guide me.” he whispered and left a kiss right over the hood of your clit, making you moan.

You nodded once, and he looked at your pussy, opened the lips gently with his fingers and blew on your slick folds, making you shiver. He flattened his tongue and licked from your slit to your clit, tasting your arousal, moaning at the richness of it.

You slid your hand to your clit and looked at him.

“Here.” you mumbled, circling a few times to show him how. He had told you he had sex before his ordination, because he didn’t want to go into his holy orders without having experienced it and wondering for the rest of his life what he had missed, but he said it wasn’t as good as he thought it would be and before you, he thought he would never know. So you had to show him what you wanted and what you liked because his experience wasn’t vast.

Dave did as you showed and you moaned out loud, the pads of his fingers were warmer and bigger than yours and he was handling you so delicately you were already on edge.

He kept licking and circling your clit and then, without a second thought, he moved his fingers away and started circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh m–my god,” you fisted his hair, pushing his face into your pussy and he pressed your hips onto the mattress, looking at your face with your mouth opened in pleasure and your eyes closed shut “Dave ke–keep doing that baby,” you pleaded and he did it, and started playing the pad of one of his fingers on your slit, making your hips buck slightly he saw you pant and smiled when you slid your free hand to play with your nipple so he added a second one to play with your entrance “inside, put them inside.” you said under your breath and he pushed his fingers slowly inside your cunt, making you let out a long moan of his name, he started pumping and curling his fingers inside as he had imagined you doing it all those weeks ago while touching himself in the shower and closed his eyes to hear you moan his name as he brought you closer and closer to pleasure.

He moved his fingers faster inside of you and hand fisted and pulled his hair as your moans became tamed screams and he thought of them as the most pious symphony that he and only him had the sacred pleasure to hear.

You wrapped a leg around his shoulders as you felt the knot inside your belly explode from his ministrations and you chanted his name over and over as he worked you through your orgasm. You panted for a few seconds and opened your eyes to the sight of Dave licking his fingers clean. You smiled at him and released his hair to motion him to come to you; he hovered over your body again and you put your hand on his nape to bring him to you; you moaned softly at your own taste and you felt it smile on your lips.

“What?” you asked in a whisper.

“Did you like it?” he asked back on your lips, you nodded and cupped his clean-shaven jaw, leaving a deep kiss on his lips.

“I loved it,” he smiled, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and felt his cock brushing lightly against your folds. “make love to me, Dave.”

You saw his smile widen, and it was his turn to nod to you, he kissed you again while his hand worked on aligning himself to you; he slid the tip through your folds and you gasped on his mouth when he found your entrance and started pushing in.

He did it slowly, no rush; he wanted to feel you in every inch of his cock; he wanted you to feel him and every ridge and vein of him as he found his home in you.

You nipped at his lip as he bottomed up and smiled when he stayed there, inside you, enjoying the wait for your body to acclimate to his, you looked into his eyes and you felt it.

You felt how you two fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

As if his body was made for you and your body was made for him.

It felt right.

It felt sacred.

Dave started moving at a calmed pace and you with him, quickly finding a rhythm where your hips moved almost in unison and he thrusted into you deeply every time he moved. He was supporting his weight on one arm next to you while the other gripped your hip and helped you with the tantalizing dance you both were having.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck when your hands moved to his back and you pulled his body down to yours, his chest gliding yours and his hips circling as he thrusted faster into you.

Dave moaned into your neck when you scratched his back as his thrusts became pounds.

“Harder, please, baby, harder.” you whispered into his ear and he listened, driving into you as fast as his body allowed, the noise of his skin clashing with yours and the wetness of you leaking around his cock flooded the room and his moans grew louder and you dug your nails into his skin chanting his name as you got closer and closer to your second release.

“Yo–you’re a goddess,” he muttered into the skin of your neck as his cock grazed your cervix, his hand wrapped around your hips and he lifted your ass for him to thrust deeper, making you moan his name loudly “you’re m–my go–goddess.”

You slid your hands to his ass and fisted his buttcheeks, pushing him further into you.

Dave felt his orgasm closer and closer every time he drove into you and your warm walls started to clench around him with the closeness of your orgasm, he nibbled the skin of your neck and clutched his eyes shut tighter when his body started to stiffen as he pounded into you; he muttered your name a few times like a prayer he never knew he needed to make, and it sounded right, your name in his voice as he drove himself and you to climax, his own name on your sweet voice as you begged him for everything he had in himself, it was all right, it was all correct, there was nothing wrong, how could he had felt so guilty about it when it was the most perfect, most righteous, most sacred, most heavenly action he could do.

You in his arms, your hands on his body, his cock inside your cunt, you wrapped around him begging him to cum inside you, everything about it was all he could have asked for to feel like he was in heaven. He had almost said no to feel it, and he bursted inside you at the same time as you broke in pieces around him, thinking that he would rather live his life with you around him than his afterlife in heaven.

“I love you.” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you opened your eyes after riding the high of your orgasm and looked at the ceiling.

You frowned when you heard his words and when you remembered what he said to you before he came, and as you turned to the side to see him that red warmth you had felt earlier disappeared almost completely and the bright green taint of the deep guilt inside you washed over your body and your soul.

He looked at you and narrowed his eyes. His expression changed as he realized you weren’t going to answer his confession.

“Dave,” you whispered and his face changed, his brow furrowed and you saw his jaw tighten “what did we just do?”

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