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starlling-writes · 6 months

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Steel My Heart

An adventurer falls in love with his sword, but can they truly be together when their love is so dangerous?

Rating: Teen Contains: swearing, fantasy violence, alcohol consumption

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Little fanfic inspired by Ginny Di's OC Temper, and the story Temper is writing. I've written this fanfic as if Temper is the author. Because of that, all the main characters are named after smithing terms - which I like to think that if anyone calls Temper out on in, she gets flustered and defensive, saying it's hard to come up with names. This is not the only fun little detail I've put in, but it's the only one I'll disclose (for now). Oh, and yes - even though Ginny really only has fem OCs, I made the main character of the story masc (I have reasons; no, I won't explain rn, sorry).

For now, it's just this one chapter, but I would like to one day make this a full-length fic, especially with all the ideas I already have for it.

— — —

Writing Masterlist

Woe to Weal

“How much can I get with—” Anneal paused as he dumped his coin purse on the bar and counted, then meekly continuing, “three silver?” He was down to his last coins. He didn’t enjoy relying on the sympathy of others, but he had no choice but to bank on it.

The barkeep gave him a pitying look before going back into the kitchen. Hopefully that was good. There hadn’t been much to scavenge or hunt on his way into this village, so any food would be good. On cue, his stomach growled like an owlbear. Not that it could be heard over the boisterous group that stumbled in, making everyone turn and look. A hallow pang turned Anneal’s head back to his measly fortune.

A fortune that was swiftly swiped up by the barkeep. In its place, a plate of food and a stein of juice were set. And the key for a room. He was about to thank the barkeep but one of the new, rowdy patrons all but slammed into the bar beside him. “Good friend, some drinks and food, if you please!” the halfling lilted. “And later some rooms so we may rest at ease.”

They eyed the gold she offered, then the group of hers who were all lost in their own conversation. “You’re adventures.”

“That we are, indeed. And we’re open for hire, should you so need,” she honeyed on.

“Yeah, actually.” They reached under the bar and pulled out a small flier. “Go see the mayor when you got time. She’ll give you the details. If you can manage to handle this tonight, you can dine and stay for free.”

“Well well, what a deal—”

“Sorry,” Anneal cut in, “but is this request open to all adventurers?”

They both looked at him. The barkeep raised their brow as they looked him over again. “You’re an adventurer?”

“I am.” Anneal cleared his throat, then straightened up and adjusted himself. “I admit, I’m… a bit down on my luck at the moment, but I can hold my own.”

A strong hand clamped on his shoulder. It seemed that the halfing’s group had been listening in and were all now circled behind him. The orc woman leaned in close. “Trying to be competition, little man?”

She could easily snap him in half—he had mixed feelings about that. “No, no!” he quickly defended. “I—I’m clearly no competition for the four of you.”

“Correct,” she said.

“I merely meant more of a… partnership? If you will—if the job is even something that would benefit from more fighters?” He glanced to the barkeep, hoping his desperation wasn’t noticeable to everyone.

It was.

The barkeep shrugged. “Hell if I know. Mayor knows more,” they deflected, then promptly removed themself from the situation developing between all of the adventurers.

Anneal slowly turned and faced the group he callously interjected himself into for this job they knew nothing about. Their expressions ranged between friendly, curious, reluctant, and unimpressed.

The orc spoke up again. “So, how do you fight? You look like fragile magic wielder.”

“Uhh…” He didn’t enjoy being called fragile, but compared to her, it was fitting. Especially with how scruffed up he was at the moment. “Well, I guess it’s sorta like magic.” He flicked his hand and in it appeared a spectral dagger. “Right now, these are all I got. But I know how to fight with other weapons, too. I’m best at being sneaky and such. You know—typical rogue shit.”

She nodded acceptingly. “Not bad. Maybe we work on more fighting skills for you.”

“Wait, so… you’re all fine working together?”

“We all fall on hard times at least once. It’s always good to help others when you can.” The elf with pastel hair held out her hand. “I’m Cerromet.”

“Anneal. Nice to meet—ahh!” When he went to shake her hand, a small creature jumped over Cerromet’s shoulder and tried to bite his hand. Luckily, he withdrew in time.

Acting fast, Cerromet turned her hand and grabbed the little psudo-dragon by the belly. She held the fang-bearing creature to her chest and petted it sweetly under the chin. “Sorry about Bloom. She’s just hungry.”

“She’s not the only one!” piped up the gnome. She hopped up on the stool beside him and leaned over for a better look at the plate the barkeep left him. “It’ll be nice to have some actual food instead of goodberries.”

“I’m sorry the ones I make are so sour,” Cerromet pouted with a little attitude. “That’s just how my magic is, Pennyweld.”

The halfling leaned on the bar and stole his stein. She took a swig then said, “I’m Burr, by the way; and Bi’Kern is our burly friend. She’s tough, for sure, but kind in the end.”

“I don’t mean this as a criticism, just an honest question. Do you always speak in rhyme?” Anneal asked.

“It’s more fun to speak in song. Try it sometime and tell me I’m wrong.”

“But do you ever not speak in rhyme?”

“You’ll sooner see ancient dragons fill the sky, than you’ll hear a lilt fail from I.”

“Okay, okay… what’s a rhyme for orange?”

Bi’Kern smacked the back of his head. “Stop being ass. Just drink already.” Burr made a point to start chugging the drink she stole from him while conspicuously returning to the table they had claimed.

They all gathered around the table, eating and drinking, getting to know each other better. Anneal was grateful for how warm and welcoming they were with him. He needed it after the past month. He was still hesitant to think that they’d become his new adventuring group, but the more they talked and laughed together, the more hopeful he grew. The quest they’d take that evening would tell if they were actually compatible.

“Oh thank the gods. Finally, some adventurers who can sort this mess.” Mayor Planish was visibly relieved once the group explained they were interested in taking the quest. “You see, about a couple weeks ago now, this ancient mausoleum within our graveyard was opened. Not to get too into it, but this tomb has been thought to be impenetrable since before this town was even founded—so its opening is… is something. The tomb has been the cause for this horrid stench,” she waved her around the air, “that has permeated everything.”

“Good to know this isn’t usual,” Pennyweld not-so-quietly scoffed.

Planish smiled apologetically. “Yes, well, this stench isn’t the only thing. We sent a couple people to check out the tomb once we realized it was opened, but they never returned. There’s no telling if the worst has happened, or if there’s some force keeping them from returning. Or hells, maybe they found a treasure and magically snuck off. Townspeople have also started to go missing at night. We’re not yet certain that’s connected to the tomb, but it’s a safe bet.”

Something in her story pricked Anneal wrong. He couldn’t tell if she was lying by omission or just lying outright, but he could tell there were secrets she was keeping close to the chest. He held his tongue for now.

“So basically anything could be in there,” Cerromet said. “And we’re to go in blindly for how much of a reward?”

“1000 gold total. And I’m willing to let you keep almost anything you find inside the tomb.”

“Not to sound like a greedy cunt, but is any of that paid upfront?” Burr asked.

The mayor hesitated, then slowly nodded a couple times. “A portion can be arranged.”

The group exchanged glances. “Give us a bit to discuss it over,” Cerromet said, smiling in polite anger. She almost literally pushed the group all the way out of the building and across the street for enough privacy. “We all agree this is iffy, right?”

“Mayor knows more than she’s telling,” Bi’Kern agreed. Everyone nodded, having also caught on to that. “Pay is low, too.”

“Yeah, especially when we have no idea what we’re up against,” Pennyweld said.

“Perhaps we should do some recon and ask around before we decide to accept or turn the mayor down?”

They all agreed and split up to gather information on their own. Cerromet scoped out the cemetery for clues; Pennyweld and Bi’Kern asked around the taverns and eateries; Burr checked out the shops; and Anneal searched for signs of a thieves guild, and other less-reputable info circles.

Overall, their hour of research didn’t turn up much. There were rumors that the mausoleum belonged to an ancient spellcaster—some rumors specified a dark mage, others a philosopher of questionable alignment. There were also no signs within the cemetery that suggested anyone or thing left the mausoleum after it opened. At least, none remained currently.

The mission remained much of a mystery. But everyone, wanting answers, agreed that they were up for the challenge. Up for trying, at least. They reported back to the mayor, then used the initial portion of their pay to get prepare for the fight.

The cemetery was silent and empty, the nauseating stench repelling all visitors. The great, stone double doors of the mausoleum hung askew, cracked and split where they appeared to have been forced open. Entering the mausoleum, the antechamber was long and unassuming; a soft, floral smell offered some slight relief from the rotten stench. Rows of columns stood at each side and a dusting of pink flower petals, decorated the floor to the stone plinth that stood at the other end.

“Fresh petals,” Cerromet frowned. “How did they get here?”

The petals shouldn’t have been there. Who would have left them? Why? Everyone readied themselves for anything.

“That plaque over there seems to have some writing. You think it might hold a clue as to what we could be fighting?” Burr exchanged looks with the others before taking the lead, walking over to investigate.

A shiver made Anneal flinch. Something was near. He whipped around in time to see the petals rise up off the ground. In time to call out to the others so they could at least turn and see the petals swarming forward at them.

Everyone started fighting the flora off. All the melee fighters were having a rough go. Trying to punch and slash little, floaty petals was practically useless. Especially so for Anneal. Even when his spectral blades connected with the swarm, none of them shriveled or smushed the way the others were achieving.

“I thought you said you could fight,” Bi’Kern criticized.

He growled and unsummoned his blades in frustrations, settling for using his fists. “I can fight, but like I said before: I only have my astral knives. Whatever these things are, they must be too dumb to take any psychic damage from them.”

Bi’Kern laughed derisively. A few others held back their own smirks and laughs.

“Ow! These things bite!” Pennyweld called out.

“Did it just get redder?” Anneal asked.

“I think these things are vampiric,” Cerromet guessed. “Watch yourselves. I doubt them getting their fill of blood will be a good thing.”

The vampiric petals proved to be just a tedious hinderance rather than a real challenge. Anneal was once again feeling down on himself. His first test with this new group and he was basically useless—not to mention he didn’t find out any info earlier since this town was so small, there was no underground network. Unless he could really turn things around, he didn’t see things working out with this new group.

“Though they die not, may her gruesome works be ever confined,” Burr read off the plaque. “I don’t think these flowers are the threat this warning had in mind.”

“Agreed.” Everyone gathered at the end of the chamber by the plaque. From here, they saw two staircases, one on either side, curving downward. “Well, shall we continue?” Pennyweld said a bit too merrily.

They decided to split the party and explore both staircases. Burr cast dancing lights for her group, while Cerromet used the same spell via an enchanted ring. But they quickly found out that the dark stairwells led to the same place. Unamused looks were exchanged. Then Pennyweld let out an excited ooh, dashed up the stairs she had just come down, then down the opposite stairs behind the second half of the group. “Hey guys! Our stairs led to the same place!”

Cerromet chortled. Bi’Kern was less amused. But overall, the silliness was appreciated.

Beyond the landing, the hall split in two again. Betting the paths would converge again, the split up to explore. This time the path led to identical hallways with six coffins. All were broken open. All were empty. Well, not fully empty; they found a couple rings, a broken pair of earrings, and an old dagger.

“Here,” Bi’Kern said as she picked up the weapon. Turning towards Anneal, she tossed the dagger at him, saying, “Now you can fight.”

Thankfully his reflexes were better than her knife throwing skills. The blade didn’t draw blood, but it still stung a little. “Please don’t do that again.”

She shrugged. “What? You caught it.”

Brushing it off, Anneal looked the blade over. Did a few test slashes. It needed to be cleaned and sharpened, but overall, it was in good condition for being sealed down there for such a long time. He slid it into the empty sheath on his side.

Continuing on, they started hearing some questionable squelches. The horrid stench was more concentrated here too. With a silent look, they all prepared to fight. As the two hallways came together into a larger chamber, they could faintly see a sarcophagus on a dais. The source of the sound was deeper in the chamber, still shrouded in darkness. Cerromet sent her lights further in, dispelling the dark. When the creatures were revealed, they all wished they had let them stay in darkness as the group left.

Four, fleshy monstrosities lingered a dagger’s throw away. Three of the abominations looked like corrupted, wrong deer; the other creature was a mound of bloody viscera and eyeballs. They were definitely the source of the stench. And they just noticed the group.

One of the abominations bellowed a guttural shriek. It made their skin crawl. Beyond the initial discomfort, there was no lasting effect. The beast exhaled sharply out its nose. Then the fight took off.

All three abominations reached out with an intestine-like appendage, aiming to ensnare them. Penelope and Anneal dodged, while Bi’Kern didn’t resist. She let the thing draw in her in. And when she was close, she ripped and sliced her way out of her restraints, then followed with another axe slash to its body.

Cerromet transformed into a dire wolf and lunged for the throat of another abomination. Her teeth sank easily into its flesh. The creature thrashed, trying to shake her off. As it finally managed to fling her off, Cerromet slashed at it with her claws skidding to a stop a few feet away—her slash missing its mark.

The mound schlepped over to Pennyweld just as her eyes went bright blue. The mound rose up, its flesh spreading into a wide blanket. It tried enveloping Pennyweld, but she kept it at bay with a fury of punches—no, not quite punches; her hands had morphed into bestial, clawed paws that she used to swipe at it. Anneal hadn’t seen anyone fight like her before; the others were only just getting used to this new ability of hers.

One of the abominations switched focus and tried to ensnare Pennyweld. It succeeded in catching one of her wrists. And with her less able to defend herself, the mound began to engulf her. She struggled to get free, to move away. But the creature’s hold held fast. Bi’Kern was too focused to try to assist; and Burr was in the middle of giving Cerromet some quick healing.

But thankfully Anneal was there, and swiftly slipped away from distracting the one that had been attacking Cerromet. He rushed in and sunk two of his spectral daggers into the mound’s fleshy mass. Luckily these things weren’t immune to psychic damage. It shrieked and thrashed, no longer interested in trying to consume Pennyweld—letting her switch her focus to fighting the abomination.

All in all, they had been in tougher fights. They all stayed conscious throughout the encounter. And they weren’t totally wiped of spells and abilities. Thankfully, the monsters dissolved away into nothing, their wretched stench gradually dissipating with them.

“I know this is a grave and all, but… should we check for any loot?”

“If you keep things like that in your tomb, I say anyone who thwarts them deserves to take whatever else you’ve buried with ya,” Anneal agreed. “Also, we did technically take this dagger already, so might as well be thorough about it.”

No one here was morally pure.

But that’s okay.

Besides the few metal weapons left behind by the unfortunate adventurers who first entered here, the only thing of note was the sarcophagus. The top was already halfway off. After seeing the other coffins in the other hallway, it was curious to see a skeleton still inside. The single ring it wore definitely gave off magical vibes. They doublechecked for traps. Seemed safe. They took the ring and the corpse crumbled to dust, catching them all by surprise. It was quickly agreed upon that if anyone asked, they found it like that.

As they started to leave the tomb, something caught Anneal’s eye. Kicked off to the side, partly covered by dirt, there was a stray metal button. He picked it up. It had a unique design on it that he swore he recognized. He pocketed it for the moment, then they left to report in.

“What?” Planish blurted in a panic after they gave their report. “There were really no corpses anywhere? How—what happened to her?”

“Her?” Anneal pressed. He crossed his arms, cocked his head, and gave her a challenging look. “How would you know the corpse was a woman when, according to you, no one has escaped the tomb?”

Planish’s eye twitched. “I—well, you see, the… the adventures had sent a Message before we lost contact.”

“Are you sure that’s how you know?” The rest of the group exchanged looks, unsure of where Anneal was going with this. He stepped forward, leaned on the mayor’s desk, looked her over. “You know, that’s quite the nice coat you have there.”

“Thank you?” she tentatively said. This felt like a trap, but she couldn’t determine how.

“Such a shame that you lost the button on your cuff.” He grabbed her left wrist and held up her sleeve. The broken threads had been snipped away, but the button had yet to be replaced. Anneal withdrew the one he picked up in the tomb and held it against her coat. Planish pulled her arm away, standing up from her desk and turning to hide the damaged sleeve. “You were there. And you escaped—likely while the group of adventurers you hired were fodder for those things.”

She growled. “What do you want?”

“The truth.” The others stepped forward and flanked him. None of them were going to let the mayor escape this without answers.

“Fine…” she sighed, frustrated, and withdrew a book from her desk. She proceeded to tell them the tale of how she found this book of poems behind an exterior stone of the mausoleum. Of how beautiful the poems are and how she fell in love with Izod, the long-departed writer. And so, she hired a group of adventurers to break into the tomb so that they could find the poet’s corpse and cast True Resurrection—so that she can be with her love. However, Planish was not expecting there to be monsters sealed away too, and was quick to flee for her life.

“You endangered your town for that?” Anneal scolded her. “People died because of you and your foolish, parasocial crush! That wasn’t even Izod’s tomb—a different name was on the sarcophagus. Someone hid that notebook behind a loose stone long after the thing had already been built.”

“That spell wouldn’t have worked anyway; that corpse was too long dead. Whoever convinced you otherwise has you severely misled.”

“This town needs new mayor.”

Planish had no further excuses. The group collected the rest of the reward money and left.

They returned to the tavern they met at for food and rest. True to their word, the owner let them eat and drink for free; they even returned Anneal’s three silver from earlier. The ladies were all quite jovial, but a cloud still hung over Anneal.

“You wanna talk about it?” Pennyweld softly asked him.

He took a slow, deep breath, and let it out while still staring into the bottom of his drink. “Can I see that sword we took?” Bi’Kern removed it from their bag of holding and handed it over. He checked the handle and found three, tiny rubies inlaid in the metal with a single rune etched below them. “Remember earlier when I mentioned I recently parted with my previous party? Well…” He stood the blade on the floor, his palm on the pommel to hold it up. “This is what happened to them.”

That sucked their energy away. He went on to explain how the three he traveled with before had ditched him—presumably after hearing about a mission they didn’t want to share the bounty of. He wished he could say he was surprised by their betrayal. But he was the last to join their party and had always felt not quite let in. It left a churning feeling in his gut to learn that the mission they tried to do without him was the one he’d succeed at without them.

“Shit,” Burr said, then took a long drink.

“Hey, you didn’t rhyme,” Anneal called her out, slipping out of his remorse.

With a quirked eyebrow, she leaned forward, using her cup to gesture and point at him, “What else is there to say, when things had gone that way?”

He laughed, conceding. “Fair enough.”

“Here,” Bi’Kern said as she placed a stein in front of Anneal. “One drink.”

Burr smiled and pulled out her lute, immediately starting to play. It was like a secret cue that the ladies knew, for they all took up their own drinks.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” Cerromet smiled. Anneal felt it was a challenge—one he was not prepared for.

They all started singing along. The beginning was slow and somber, fitting Anneal’s mood. Then the ladies started drumming on the table as the song picked up. When the song cued, they drank. The song was about taking a moment to honor all that was past and gone, but not letting it hold you back from celebrating all the good things you currently have, and looking brightly to the future.

By the end, the bitterness Anneal felt before had dissolved. “Made a whole song for this kind of situation, huh?”

Burr shrugged. “We all have grief that weighs on our hearts, so I found a way to help using my musical arts.”

“Well, thank you.”

“So do you have any specific plans for after this?” Cerromet asked as she fed a chunk of meat to Bloom.

“Oh, uh,” he stammered. Guess they weren’t going to let him into their group. “No. but I’ll figure something out.”

“You should come with us to Ravalo then—if you’re okay with still being in our party.”

Anneal stared dumbfounded at her for a couple seconds. His emotions were being flung every which way tonight. “You’re all okay with me joining you?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t celebrate with you if we didn’t,” Bi’Kern added, her sass coming out more threateningly after having imbibed a few drinks.

Anneal laughed. It was wild to think about how quickly his fortunes had changed today. How quickly he comfortably fell into this new group.

He was too lost in thought thinking it all over that he wasn’t prepared to suddenly hear someone say feed me almost directly into his ear.

He flinched, choaking on his drink. After clearing his lungs and breathing normally again, he looked around for the source of the voice—it definitely wasn’t any of the ladies.

“You okay?” Pennyweld asked. Everyone was giving him curious or concerned looks.

“Yeah…” he said slowly. “Who the hell said that?”

“Said what?”

“Feed me.”

“Well I didn’t hear anything like that, so either you’re hallucinating, or it’s some sort of magic thing.” The others concurred with her. That didn’t make him feel better.

Fool. At your hip, the voice came again. Anneal looked down, and all around. Was someone invisible? Or super tiny? The voice growled, the dagger!

He took the dagger they had grabbed from the tomb out of the holster on his upper thigh and stared at it. “Hello?”

Feed me and restore my strength!

“Oh shit!” Startled, he dropped the dagger on the table. “The dagger talks!”

Burr burst into a fit of laughter. “Of all the weapons you find in the tomb, you grab the one that’s cursed?” she said amid her laughter. “Guess we better hurry to Ravalo & find a cleric to get it reversed.”

“You have some terrible luck,” Pennyweld said, pity nowhere to be heard as she continued to happily devour her plate of mushrooms and stewed veggies.

“If it makes me try to kill you guys, please stop me,” Anneal said flatly. He had had no personal experience with cursed weapons, but had heard plenty of tales of them compelling their wielders to harm those closest to them.

Bi’Kern laughed and slammed her now-empty stein on the table. “Phhwa! You won’t even get close to killing any of us before I break you.”

Anneal wasn’t entirely certain that she wouldn’t try to break him right now…

They other continued making jokes while he examined the dagger. It looked rough. Which was odd for what he knew about magical items—cursed or otherwise; he thought they were supposed to have some kind of immunity to damage. This was certainly no ordinary cursed weapon. It might not even be cursed for all he knew.

Well. Everything in balance, he guessed.

— — —

Writing Masterlist

#ginny di universe #cursed weapon #human x living object #fanfic #had posted this before but took it down

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tomfowlery · 3 years

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I love The Ghost and Molly McGee with all my heart!! 😭 I didn't expect myself to fall in love with this show so quickly but it's easily one of my favorites in this year alone!

#i drew like 19? pieces last night with these two i love them sm #the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #fanart #disney #vintage #vintage art #sorta-i scruffed it up #blvdart

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sevendeadlymorons · 3 years

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Yesyesyesyess- i have been waiting for your requests to open I hope you are having a good day and stay safe and healthy <3

And could you please do headcannons for how the brothers + Barbatos would react if mc babies them loads like if one of them do the smallest movement or noise mc would think that is adorable, coo at them and spoil them with kisses

This ones really cute, and I like it a lot :D

I honestly catch myself doin it sometimes since I’m around children a lot 🤣

Brothers + Barbatos’ Reaction to MC Babying Them

———————————————

Lucifer

Doesn’t understand what the fuck you were doing and why you were doing it

He just finished a crossword puzzle, why are you cupping his cheeks and praising him like a baby? It’s hardly anything to celebrate?

Kinda weirded out at first but leans into the praise and affection after seeing the absolute look of delight on your face

Actually really likes the way you cup his cheeks and kiss his nose and smile that big sweet smile of yours while running your hand in his hair

You have to stop though, his brothers are watching

Probably won’t let you do it again, honestly. Or at least not in public

Mammon

Eh?! What you doing, human?!

He came sprinting towards you to tell you about this test he got a good score in and you suddenly started grabbing his face and pinching his cheeks and cooing him like he was 4 years old

Will try to push you off, but inside, he loves it, and he adores the affection you’re giving him and desperately wants more

Sorta didn’t like how you were currently doing this in the corridor though so pulls you into his room to continue, making sure his brothers weren’t around to disturb

Sits on his bed like a happy puppy, letting you ruffle his hair and shower him with lots of praise and kisses

Best thing ever to him, just don’t do it in front of his brothers

Leviathan

Leviathan.exe has stopped working

You crawled towards him when he’d won a round in his game like always, and started fussing over him, getting all up in his face and showering him with affection

He could feel his face burning up but fuck, did it feel real good to receive affection

Can’t deny he found it rather weird though, since he’s a demon and all, but he can’t get enough of the love you were providing him

Leant into your touch when you pulled his head down to plant multiple kisses on his forehead and cheeks

Wants this to become a regular thing, so does his best to win every single round in hopes of getting praise off you

Satan

He feels like a cat and doesn’t know how to feel about it

On one hand, you were fussing him over finishing a book, but on the other hand... you were fussing him over finishing a book

He isn’t used to that and he feels it’s such a pointless thing to praise, especially since he could easily finish 5 books in a day if he wants to. This was merely a single book

But he likes the praise and the affection and the way you ran your hands through his hair and left kisses all over his cheeks, nose and forehead. It felt nice

Let you continue on for a bit longer until it felt odd

Doesn’t mind if you do it again, he enjoyed your touch

Asmodeus

He loves it so much

He’d just finished the perfect eyeliner when all of a sudden, you came running up to him and started cooing him, showering him in praise and kisses on his head and cheeks

He found it a rather odd gesture but he didn’t particularly care as long as he could feel the touch of your fingertips on his face

Pulled you back towards him for more praise if you showed signs of finishing

He truly does melt when you coo at him and can’t get enough of your affection for such small accomplishments

He’ll definitely be accomplishing more things when you’re around

Beelzebub

Can’t help but smile honestly. No clue what you were doing, but it felt nice

Finished off his food as per usual, but this time, he had you hugging at his waist, scruffing up his hair and planting kisses all over his cheek

Found it rather strange, and he had no idea what he’d done, but praise is praise and he’s loving it

Hugged you in his arms as you showered him in praise and kisses, and listened intently as you cooed at him lovingly

You were doing it at the dinner table in front of his brothers, but he doesn’t really mind, he’s just happy he’s getting attention

Enjoys the praise he gets after eating his dinner and it’s pretty much a routine by now

Belphegor

He’s not complaining but he absolutely is in his head

He doesn’t even know what he did, he was just sleeping, when all of a sudden you came barrelling towards him and tackling him, pinching his cheeks and treating him like a kid

Mildly irritated at your creepy gesture but it kinda felt... nice... to be given praise like this?

Actually sorta liked the way you caressed his cheek and kissed his nose a thousand times, and he really, really wanted more

Pulls you into a tight hug and continues to listen to you endlessly praise him and ruffle his hair, a small smile and blush on his face

Maybe he’ll get used to this

Barbatos

This really won’t do, but if it makes you happy...

Finished up making everyone’s tea when he felt you come up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, giving him a squeeze as you throw unnecessary praise at him

Honestly almost spills all the tea but he hadn’t had a hug in a while so he appreciates it

Didn’t understand what you were doing at first or why you were doing it for that matter, but you sounded so happy so how could he possibly stop you

Turns around to hug you back, aware the Prince and the brothers were staring at him, and let’s you continue this mass amount of affection, even allowing you to pull him down to plant a singular kiss on his nose before he turns back to continue his work

Always enjoys your praise and affection, it brightens his day

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me barbatos

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residentialrabbit · 2 years

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Weird question but of all characters we can find in the game, which one was the hardest one to develop (personality, backstory, design etc)?

The hardest one to develop personality and backstory-wise would probably be Cherubim.

They're the newest character that wasn't based on a preexisting character I already had so @samrosemodblog and I basically made them from scratch. Without giving away too much I'm also trying to avoid certain tropes but still have her be likable and interesting to get to know. He's sorta the one I've had the most trouble with but I think Sam and I can pull something off.

Design-wise is difficult because a majority of the characters just have revamped designs from their other iterations and character design is something I really enjoy. Though If I had to saayyyy maybe Noel since this was his initial concept design before settling with his current fit

I think I was going for a pirate look here....? But that doesn't really fit Noel so much so his current scruffed goth formal was what I went with.

Though I think I truly had to seek out additional help from @happypaca on designing one of the more important supporting characters since, even though you can't tell bc they're blacked out, have a very fantasy esque outfit and I'm not the best when it comes to that genre.

She also helped me with designing Cherubim since her outfit is also fantasy-inspired so big thanks to her on that department!

When it comes to writing... I think the hardest for me to write is Rosita's route. Namely, because I ended up completely scrapping her original Chapter 3 outline and had to rethink how I wanted to conclude her arc in a way that's satisfying. Other cereus members were disappointed because the initial idea for her chapter three seemed funny but once I got to that part the gag just felt like the joke was on her and was mean-spirited. Maybe once the game is done I can speak more on what the alternate Ch.3 for her was and see if people would have agreed that the rewrite was the better idea or if I was overanalyzing the situation.

It's also a little difficult to write someone as light-hearted and silly as Rosita and be able to take her seriously too since she's mainly been used for light-hearted moments in other routes but I think I'm managed to strike that balance with her! I love this bimbo lesbian and I want her to be liked just as much as the other's stories.

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retro-memo · 3 years

Text

Webbed Up

Hey guys, with the angsty one-shot I pulled yesterday I thought I'd go for something more light-hearted.

Now, this isn't at all related to the previous one-shot and it is 100% crack. It's just humor and something I whipped out in my notes in five minutes.

So, don't expect it to be great. Like put your bar very low here.

~~~

Ever since the whole Vulture fiasco and after the kid turned him down for a spot on the Avengers, or what was left of them, Tony had made an effort to include Peter more, not just shouldering him off to Happy like he used to.

It first started with having the kid over at the Compound every couple of weeks but Tony eventually found he enjoyed having Peter's bubbly personality around. A monthly thing soon turned into having the kid over weekly.

It reminded him of when Bruce was still around, when he still had a lab partner and when the team was still whole.

Granted, the kid was much more like a ball of endless energy compared to Bruce but Tony found it refreshing.

However, this was supposed to be a peaceful lab session with the kid. On paper at least, nothing could've gone wrong.

Of course, something had to go wrong and it had to be the kid's web fluid. Tony knew there was a reason he didn't like using paper anymore…

"Kid, remind me to never allow you near Dum-E and U again." Tony groaned, hitting the back of his head against the wall behind him where he was suspended up by the kid's webs.

Peter, who was lucky enough to narrowly escape from being webbed up like him, face so red from the embarrassment it could've put Thor's cap to shame and had the audacity to look like the most innocent being on planet earth. "I'm so sorry, it's just that I didn't know that the web fluid would explode like that!"

His bots certainly didn't help either. Both were hiding behind Peter the best they could, peeking their heads out from behind the kid. It was quite a picture with the three trouble-makers looking like they'd been caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

“Don’t you have some kind of liquid to get me out of it? Like the one you used when you webbed my hand to your room’s doorknob?" Tony grumbled under his breath as he tried tugging fruitlessly at the webs that kept him suspended, trying to ignore his growing headache.

It grew when he saw the kid wince and Peter scruffed at the floor with one of his tennis shoes. He sighed, already dreading the answer. “What now?”

“I-uh, sorta left it at the apartment?” Peter shrugged unhelpfully, his mouth puckering to the side and Tony groaned, regretting all his life decisions at that moment. This was karma. He was certain of it. Howard was laughing at him from beyond the grave.

“Great, how long until this stuff dissolves?” Now the kid really looked guilty and mumbled something barely audible.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Tony leaned forward as best as he could, which wasn’t much considering he one with the wall at this point. All he got was some more mumbling and he scowled. “I don’t have enhanced hearing like you do, Underoos. Speak up a little.”

"Three hours."

"Three?!" Tony stared at Peter, gaping at him. "You mean I'm gonna be stuck to the wall like a beached starfish for three hours!?"

“Sorry, sir.” Peter ducked his head and seemed to be getting redder—wait, was that little shit smiling?

Tony took a deep, calming breath before dropping his chin against his chest, feeling thoroughly exhausted and utterly done.

Mentor a teenage superhero, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

Right.

When he got out of this webbing he was going to build a giant bubble just to stick Peter in it. He'd have May to back him up on it too.

"Mr. Stark?" The kid's meek voice dragged Tony away from the plans he had to build a Peter Parker/disaster-proof sphere and he looked up to see the teen grinning. Smug almost.

Tony's eyes narrowed. "What's up, kid? Did you figure out a way to free me?"

"Mr. Stark it's not that." Tony quirked an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

"It's getting late and May wants me home soon…" The kid trailed off and scooped his bag up from the floor, slinging it into his shoulder.

It quickly clicked into place for Tony, and he stared in mute horror at what the kid was implying. "So what, you're just going to leave me hanging for three hours here alone?!"

The billionaire jerked furiously against the webs restraining him, even if he knew that it was useless. He could only watch as the kid started jogging for the lab doors, fucking giggling because of the position he left him in.

"You're not alone! Dum-E and U are here for you!" Peter called back and sprinting towards the elevator, barely turning his head as he waved a dismissive hand in the air.

"Parker, get back here!"

"Bye, Mr. Stark! See you tomorrow!"

~~~

... I said it was a crack fic... (Or in this case, probably crap is a better word for it.)

#Crackfic #Humor #irondad #spider son #Fluff #Sorta?#Does this count as fluff #I dunno #I'm new to this shit #peter parker #tony stark

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

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Unselfish Love / Peter Quill Imagine

Request: Hi! Do you do male!reader imagines? I sorta want one with Peter Quill, with him struggling with his sexuality and the reader comforting him despite not knowing about his crush on the reader

Of course I do love! I’m a very firm believer in everyone being able to find their representation in fandoms :)

Comments are much appreciated! <3

It’s funny how different perspectives can become.

Especially when you compare a person who has lived on a spaceship for twenty years, to mostly everyone else on Earth. Peter remembers being one of those people, one of the ones who wanted to escape, but never knew how. He had loved watching Star Wars and Star Trek with Meredith, wondering what could have been.

He never thought it would end with him killing his own father. Everything about him, at the moment, just felt so up in the air. And as he watches the galaxy from where he sits in his pilot chair, he realises that the thought of exploring makes him feel more tired than anything else at the moment. He tilts his head, gazing upwards, eyes more open than they can be in the fullness of day. He’s not looking at one star, yet somehow sees them all at once. He stands up, fingers dancing down to the cassette player that rests on his belt, allowing the play button to click as he stretches his arms. He closes his eyes, beginning to let his feet shuffle against the floor, taking a final peep to make sure Drax wasn’t standing still in the corner, before he lets himself dance.

If there’s one part of himself that he’s sure of, it’s that music will always flow through him.

‘Pretty blue lights along the way, help you right on by

And the blue lights shining with a heavenly grace, help you right on by-’

You watch him from the cockpit doorway, laughing as he kicks his legs, utter concentration on his face, crackling somewhat from the old cassette. Usually, unless he really wanted to annoy Rocket, that ancient music machine was his only audience, watching with those two rolling eyes and scruffed tape. As he turned, his eyes caught you standing there, being less adept at hiding in the shadows than Drax was. Or perhaps, evenly so. He dropped his eyes momentarily before looking, his head tilted to one side and a hopeful smile playing on his lips. But you could see the exhaustion that he hid behind his eyes.

‘Quill, do you ever go to sleep?’

‘Not while there’s dancing to be done, my friend. I could ask you the same question. Can’t resist, huh?’

You frown slightly, in fear of your real reasons for being up so late with Quill being found out. But instead he only runs over, tossing off his jacket onto the floor so he’s able to grab your shoulders, laughing wildly.

‘The stars, Y/n, the stars!’

‘Plus, who can resist these moves?’

He starts to sway again, biting his bottom lip with a look of mock determination, until you knock him on the shoulder and sit down on the floor. With a dramatic sigh, Quill sits down on the step next to you, his cotton shirt brushing against your shoulder.

The darkness outside illuminated him in a light, brushing off the soft curls that lay a mess against his forehead as he takes a deep breathe. His eyes were soft, silvery and emanated a divine aura of everlasting magic and hope as he turned to face you with a smile.

‘Well, are you going to tell me what’s wrong Quill? I know we’ve talked about your dad before...’

He bristled slightly at your words, and you decided it was best to just allow him to talk when he was ready. The stars coiled their glowing tendrils upon whatever part of his face it came across, dipping the man in a radiant, hypnotic glow. It showered down as sprinkles of allure and pearly hues.

He was just so beautiful, you thought with a sigh, not noticing his eyes deep in question at the noise. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. You loved the way his voice quickened when he sparkled with a new idea, or was so enjoying one of mine that he lost himself for a moment and quite forgot the mask he wore for others. You knew the second you had met the Guardians, you had given him his heart to keep it safe, that's just the way it was. You didn’t mind if he could never give you his in return. Just being here, on the Milano, was enough.

‘Can I be honest with you, Y/n. I’m just- I’m just struggling at the moment. I miss my mom, sometimes I miss Earth, and I just... don’t know who I am anymore, I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be.’

‘Wow, that’s the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard you say.’

The left side of his pale lip tugged upwards, creating an amused smirk on his god-like face, (as if he would ever let any of the Guardians forget he was half-god, technically). He bumps his tense shoulder further against your own.

‘Oh, ha ha. You’ve been spending too much time around Gamora.’

You did not say anything- you just did not know what to say. He was peculiarly conscious of you sitting next to him, your arm near his. Your silence was somehow comforting, he thought, it was peaceful in a way where he could feel at home and know that no matter what was happening, he was safe. He hadn’t felt this way since Meredith had taken him out to lie under the sky, the two of them sharing a pair of headphones, cheeks touching. It was bliss.

The two of you just sat there for a while, sitting under the stars, which were like a beautiful, surreal blanket above your heads, nothing but the soft breaths of him by your side.

‘But seriously, I spend all my time wondering if this is who I am, you know? I have such this... unselfish, I think? This unselfish love for everyone, and sometimes, I wonder if that means more about me than I thought it did before.’

You blink at him slowly, trying to comprehend what he was telling you. He took the lack of reaction as a bad sign.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to bore you.’

You only shake your head, offering a warm smile full of hidden devotion and awe in return.

‘You could never bore me, Peter. Watching you try and speak is far too entertaining for that. But I wouldn’t worry, everything will eventually just click into place, and everything will suddenly just make sense. Or you’ll constantly be evolving, changing, challenging yourself. Either way, you will always be perfect, Peter Quill, and you will always be you. So would you stop worrying, for once?’

Peter’s eyes were as immobile as the rest of his face, as if news like that was impossible to absorb any faster. He was frozen for maybe three whole seconds before the corners of his mouth resumed their usual softness and her eyes quit staring. As soon as the last syllable echoed its way around his head, you find yourself interlocked in a kiss. Your eyes widen and it takes approximately one point five seconds to realise Peter Quill, the man you love, is kissing you and a further two point eight seconds to realise that you’re kissing him back. Your eyes have fluttered shut and in the darkness you see light exploding.

All you can focus on is Peter. On the soft moan he just made, the way he tastes like caramel and midnights under turning galaxies. The way his hand rests over your heart as he pulls away.

‘I-I’m sorry-’

‘Don’t be, do it again.’

His cold lips brushed against yours as he tugged you closer. You pressed your hand against his sculpted chest, relishing the firm, hard muscle. Nestling closer, you felt for his heartbeat, allowing the two of you to melt as one into the night.

Buy me a Coffee?

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itsdetachable · 4 years

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hello, i have a question about ferrets if you don't mind answering. if you don't want to, please feel free to ignore this ask. i've never had ferrets before but i'm hoping to in the future - from what i've gathered, is scruffing mostly to hold them in place to keep them still if you need like check them or for training of some sorts? does scruffing hurt them like it can a grown cat?

Hi! It’s no problem I love talking about ferrets. Scruffing can absolutely be safely done for an adult ferret, it won’t hurt them. They retain that sorta-going-limp reaction when scruffed into adulthood, and as long as you’re not holding EXTREMELY tightly they’re fine. It’s extremely useful for checking them out - for checking their teeth especially, but vets will also scruff ferrets so they can palpate their bodies during exams as it’s much easier than trying to do it on a wiggly ferret. Sometimes you can also scruff a ferret who needs a nail trim, but that turns the whole thing into a 2-person job (one person scruffs, the other trims).

You can also scruff as a training method, but in that case it’s done quickly - you’re supposed to be trying to mimic the mom-ferret’s method of discipline, which involves a quick-scruff to hold them in place and hissing. To be COMPLETELY honest, in my personal experience the only time this was effective was when training them not to bite too hard, but even then it wasn’t always effective because ferrets bite each other along the neck during play! Sometimes it just riled them up more, so I switched to doing “time outs” in a pet carrier instead of scruffing, or just stopping play completely when they bit too hard, and that worked better.

Ferrets are pretty tough, and the skin of the back of their necks is really flexible I suppose you can say? A lot of ferrets, during play, will bite at that part of the neck, and my ferrets (especially one of them, Tikki) would routinely just grab another ferret by the scruff and drag them along the ground for a bit while the other ferret just flopped (and sometimes yawned!). Oh yeah, sometimes ferrets yawn nice and wide during a scruff, useful for seeing all those teeth, especially the back ones.

So scruffing - not painful, useful for keeping them still for multiple purposes (even picking them up if necessary), though the effectiveness of it during training is a “who knows” imho.

Hope that clarifies! You can always feel free to ask away on any questions you have :)

#ferrets #ferret #pets #Anonymous

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packsbeforesnacks · 4 years

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The $10,000 Question || Ricky & Winn

TIMING: Friday, February 14th, 2020 (Valentine’s Day), Sunset LOCATION: Harris Island & Portland, ME PARTIES: @ricky-corderbro & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: After a $10,000 donation to the school’s arts program, Winn lets Ricky take him on the date he paid for. The two have a heart-to-heart, then a stomach-to-stomach. WARNINGS: A couple instances of graphic (read: mature) language.

All told, Ricky had not expected to have his little online stunt net the public school system a ten grand donation that, from the complicated legalese he could muddle his way through, would see them burn in hell if they used a single red cent for anything other than arts funding. Slightly more complicated was the fact that the donation had come from Winn. All things being equal, the blind date they’d had hadn’t been terrible, and while he’d never admit this to Winn, the sex had been mind-blowing, but he had no intention of pursuing a relationship with the man. Or… rather… with the werewolf. He was acutely aware that his own species identification would probably be a topic for the evening, but, for the moment he was content with trying to figure out exactly what he was going to do for the date.

He’d tossed around several ideas; from something home cooked to renting a boat and having a moonlight meal in the Bay. But somehow that all seemed to fizzle in the face of the fact that Winn was obscenely rich enough to drop ten thousand dollars on a Valentine’s Day date without batting an eyelash. It flew in the face of what Ricky at least thought he knew about the man, but it was fresh out of his shower, smoothing curl serum he’d swear he never used through his hair, that it all finally clicked into place. As he laid out his suit he made a phone call, tying the tie saw him make another one, tying reservations down with the same surety his fingers used as they tied the knot, and finally, as he stood in front of the mirror in a charcoal pinstripe suit, he had everything ready to go. “Ready when you are, Romeo.” He quickly typed out, throwing some toiletries and… essentials… into a small bag and striding towards the door. “WINSTON!” he shouted, not even knowing if his roommate was home, “I’LL BE BACK TOMORROW.”

Panic wasn’t a typical emotion for Winn. He was calm in a crisis, a confidante for those who needed it, and, if he did say so himself and he did, pretty generally chill. One bad habit, though, one that Winn had never quite been able to break, was his inability to turn down a dare, or be called on a bluff when he could just as easily decide that his bluff was the truth. It was more than that, though. His inheritance was buried deep in the electrical grid of Virginia, a monopoly among monopolies that often did more harm than good, he knew. The trust had vested when he’d turned twenty-one, and all of the money his grandfather, coal and gristle, had put into it for his sole “heir” had come into Winn’s possession. What his parents, and his deceased grandfather, hadn’t counted on was the sole heir becoming a werewolf (or bein’ gay, but that was… less a dealbreaker). Certainly hadn’t expected that same heir to fuck up so bad that he wouldn’t even think of leaning into any aspect of their family’s various business.

No, Winn didn’t know what to do with all that money. He said it all the time, and it was true: he didn’t want for much, really. So, when Ricky had come around soliciting donations to the arts, somethin’ Winn knew wasn’t gettin’ the funding that hockey was? Well, what was $10,000 between (mutually attracted) friends (who had previously hooked up, and then not gone further than that, and hell if Winn was gonna be out-stubborned, and who was to say if Ricky even wanted to do more than some athletic, excellent fucking that had left Winn the best kinda sore for days)? So, yeah, he’d made a big choice and he wasn’t gonna fuck it up, no sir. … So, yeah, little panic. Just a little.

Which was to say, he’d been flying around town all afternoon, renting a car — as if they’d ride on his bike or in the beat-up jalopy he used most of the week — transferring money, writing up paperwork, hassling a notary, causin’ a desk lady at the school to pass out, tryin’ to find one goddamn suit that wasn’t shit-tier, and then beggin’ Blanche to tailor it for him all by six o’clock, dammit Ricky. He was thankful he’d gotten a haircut the day before Valentine’s, otherwise he’d probably have passed out somewhere in the middle there.

All things considered, though, he knew he cleaned up well. Hell, he’d modeled. The suit, a violet three-piece, had worried him a bit — was it too bold? — but Blanche assured him that the cut would distract Ricky from the choice of color. Lines of a lighter purple ran through the white silken shirt underneath. The tie and pocket square, a deep, dotted navy, had been Blanche’s choice: he’d bought about six, and trusted Blanche to match well, something his colorblind eyes struggled with. Just as he finished, sliding a watch on his wrist with just enough time to spare, Winn got a text from Ricky: “Ready when you are, Romeo.” He shoved a couple hundreds at Blanche as he left, sliding into the jet black Maserati he’d lucked and charmed (and paid) his way into and sped off towards Harris Island.

He pulled up at 5:59, walked to Ricky’s door, and rapped a quick three. As the door opened, he whistled lowly. “Wow. And I thought I was dressin’ to impress.”

He liked to think that he had at least some semblance of an idea of how Winn would roll up to his house, but when a Maserati of all things pulled down the long drive and Winn stepped out of the car in a suit that looked like it’d been tailor made for him, Ricky was starting to wonder if he was punching outside his weight class. As he walked out onto the porch he heard a low wolf whistle coming from the general direction of the main house, and looked over to see Dee flashing him a thumbs up from her back porch, “Back inside, Dee! You’re old and it’s cold.” The thumbs up quickly turned into her flipping him off and he turned his attention to the supermodel on his porch. “Well… I can’t show up to a date looking like a slob. First thing’s first…” He held a hand out. “Phone. Can’t have you guessing where we’re going before we get there.” Ricky had this date planned out down to the last detail, and a solid portion of it was contingent on Winn not figuring out what was happening until the last possible minute.

“Don’t worry. I won’t go looking through your pictures. Though I’ve already sucked your dick, so I can’t imagine I’d see anything in there that’d shock me.” His shoes crunched along the gravel as he walked to the car, carefully putting his bag in the back as he leaned against the side of what he prayed was a rental (the thought that Winn had bought a sports car for this date, while believable, was too much to handle). “Come on! I’ve got plans, Woods. I’ve got a whole evening impeccably planned out and we gotta hit the road!” He couldn’t keep himself from smiling broadly, this may have started out weird and awkward but Ricky was genuinely looking forward to the evening.

When Ricky had been, well, his normal Ricky self, Winn felt a coil in his gut, that he didn’t know had wound, ease up, if only a little. Winn was well-aware of the ways in which this whole… thing could’ve come off. He placed his phone gingerly into Ricky’s hand, fingers brushing against the other man’s palm and Winn blushin’ up to his ears at the mention of their night. “Who knows,” he whispered conspiratorially, “Maybe I want you to find what’s in there, Ricks.” He smiled, a bit… giddy? Yeah, giddy. The first date had been a surprise, if a pleasant one. This one, well, he may have paid for it, sorta, but… Ricky didn’t have to dress up so nice for him, if he didn’t want to. It was a different view of the man. He’d had his hands grasped in the curls that were pulled back, he’d seen the tan skin beneath the three-piece, he’d— Well, he was getting side-tracked, and Blanche had tailored the suit well enough that going too far down that rabbit hole would be a problem. Unless Ricky was into— Nope, down Winner.

In the time he’d spaced, Ricky had made his way over to the Maserati, leaned up against it like the best bad idea Winn had ever had. A whole evening? Damn. Winn smirked as he held Ricky’s door open, gesturing the other man in with a practiced air of cordialness — thanks Cotillion. He slid in, careful not to brush his hair, stickin’ up a bit with product, against the roof of the car. “Go ahead and set up your phone on the car’s Bluetooth. I’m a good conversationalist, I know, but quiet seems… neither of our speeds.” He winked, letting the implication hang in the air. This was good. This was great. “Where to, Cordero?” he said, turning the key in the ignition and feelin’ the car growl (ha) back to life.

The energy between them was a constant back and forth that straddled the line between flirtation and outright verbal fucking, and as Ricky took Winn’s phone and slid it into his jacket he leaned over, patting the well-scruffed cheek of his date, “Well then, I’ll have to dig through it. We’ll be in the car for about an hour. I’m sure I can find something on here that’ll amuse me.” As the car pulled down the long drive and out onto the road he smiled, stretching out a little as he hooked his phone up to the Bluetooth and the sounds of Barns Courtney’s Fire started to fill the car, “Head towards the highway. We’re going south. You’re gonna wanna start goin’ towards Portland. I’ll tell you more when you need to know it.”

He turned in his seat to make sure his bag wasn’t rattling around too much in the backseat, knowing full well he had important things inside of it, before turning to look at Winn and his (as much as he was loathe to admit it) incredibly handsome profile. “So. Mr. Woods. Ten fucking thousand dollars on a called bluff. I mean I know I’m a damn good lay and some charming company but that… is a lot of fucking money. That big a patron of the arts?” He let the question hang in the air for a few moments before smiling wickedly and modifying it, “Didn’t know that was a traditionally werewolf characteristic.”

“Good taste in music,” Winn said offhand, trying to pay attention to the road as the drums and deep baritone filled his speakers. Winn knew his grin had gotten bigger when the other man had patted his cheek. He liked Ricky’s hands (was that a weird thing to say?). He’d ignored the quip Ricky had made about goin’ through his phone, knowin’ (hopin’?) it was mostly a joke. It wasn’t like there was anythin’ too incriminatin’ on it — no, if anything, Winn was embarrassed by the lack of content on his phone. Save for texts and a couple time-wasters (and ESPN alerts, ‘course), he wasn’t glued to his phone and it showed. ‘Course, there were a couple’a… personal pictures (... and videos) on there, he wasn’t stuck in the Stone Age. Some stuff from his second time as a model, too. But nothin’, like Ricky had said, the man hadn’t seen before.

“An hour, huh? Want the windows down? It’s not freezin’, and headin’ towards Portland’ll take us along the coast for a little while. The Maserati, for all its beauty, smelled a little too much like fine leather and oil. He caught Ricky moving out of the corner of his eye, and tilted his head over just slightly, inclining one eyebrow as Ricky adjusted a bag. He caught the man’s eye for a moment, but knew he’d get shit for askin’ too many question and, besides— “Ten fucking thousand dollars on a called bluff.” When Ricky mentioned Winn being a wolf, smiling like he’d struck gold, Winn had to grin back, a little… wolfish. “Some werewolves,” he started, “are a big fan of artists, actually.”

He winked at Ricky, before turning back to face the road. “I grew up around some of the best art in the country. Didn’t always get it, but hear that’s not necessarily the point, and I usually enjoyed it regardless. And, well…” He coughed. “It, um, seemed important to you. And, like I said, not like my money’s goin’ to anything useful.” It felt like he was dodging a question, for some reason, but Winn had no reason to lie to Ricky. “The money thing just never… came up, especially since you refused to let me pay for your dinner.” And the werewolf thing… well. Ricky got why he hadn’t blabbed about that, he hoped.

“I have excellent… if eclectic… taste in music.” This was something Ricky normally listened to in the workshop as he was carving, but it seemed suited for an evening drive on his way to a date, so he’d just started the playlist up. His fingers rapped in time with the music, head bopping along as he enjoyed what was undoubtedly the most luxurious car he’d ever ridden in. The whole situation was weird. How dressed up he was, the car he was riding in, who he was riding in said car with… it was like watching pieces of a puzzle you thought you knew the solution to come together to be something entirely different and foreign. Not bad, necessarily, just… foreign.

“You know, it’s a pity we didn’t take your car… or my truck.” He withdrew a joint from his breast pocket, watching it roll around in the clear vial that kept it from making his suit smell like he’d just gotten out of a Phish concert, “We could have had a very relaxing drive down to Portland. But… as it stands… I don’t think we should hotbox a Maserati.” He put it back into his pocket as he listened to what was a very unsatisfactory answer. “Lots of things are important to lots of people, Winn. Doesn’t mean everyone gets ten thousand dollars.”

The man’s comment about werewolves liking artists made Ricky chuckle, and he squeezed Winn’s thigh, “Uh-huh. Well… all of that is a terribly unsatisfactory answer, but, I guess that’s the best I can hope for this early in the evening. I’ll have to get you good and liquored up over dinner, which is on me, by the way, and get you to spill all the beans. You can get drunk right? That’d be such a drag if you were going to be a sober Susan all night. We’ve got plans… and don’t worry about driving home. We won’t be going back until tomorrow.”

The leather hugged Winn, like an old friend it hadn’t seen in a while. He had the money to throw down on a car like this, sure, but he knew himself too well. The bikes got more use than his shitty car, and he shelled out enough to keep them in good shape in the Maine winter. He could drive a graduate student-level car. He didn’t mind. Much.

When Ricky pulled the joint from his pocket, Winn winced. “Ah, sorry about that, man. I just… my car’s a mess.” True enough, and Ricky hadn’t seen his car. Not like Winn thought he’d judge, except… well, okay, he probably would. But it wouldn’t matter to him. Winn knew that, rationally. “We always could. I have the car for the weekend,” he said, only a bit dubious of his ability to get smoke out of the leather. Winn hummed along as the song faded and the next started up, reaching a hand down from the wheel to brush a thumb across the back of the hand Ricky had placed on his thigh. Focus on the road and not the devastatingly attractive man sitting next to you, Winner. Ricky squeezed, and Winn groaned. Dirty pool, Cordero, he knew Winn was—

Winn started talkin’, half to respond to Ricky, half to distract himself from the warm hand on his thigh. “I’m not tryin’ to be cagey, Ricks. I didn’t… think much about it. I would’ve done it if you’d asked me outright, date or no. The ‘cue was that good,” he quipped. He tried to resist askin’ a question about their direction. “Pretty presumptuous, if you’re askin’ me, Mr. Cordero. You’re lucky you’re pretty, otherwise might not let you get away with that.” He snickered, unable to take himself too seriously. “But no, I mean— Yes. I can get drunk. Takes me a minute longer than other folks, and, well, you’re responsible for bringin’ out drunk Winn. He’s a little… handsy. So is sober, Winn, though.” He moved his hand that had been on Ricky’s to give the other man’s thigh the same squeeze, hand a little further down than Ricky’s had been. “But I’m happy to be here, with you, y’know? Money or no. You make good company.”

Ricky caught the wince as Winn looked over at the joint in his hand, “You have the car for the weekend but I don’t think there’s a detailer talented enough to get the smell of good weed out of the fine-ass leather of this car. Don’t worry though. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that later.” Winn’s hand rested on the back of his own and the silence stretched out for a moment; in the momentary lacuna between songs it seemed extra quiet, but the music kicked up again, the same gentle song by KALEO that he used as his alarm in the morning, and that long long moment lapsed into the moment after, and then the moment after that, “I didn’t think you were being cagey.”

He laughed, removing his hand and looking at his phone to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, “If I thought you were being cagey and just trying to slum it with us “normal” low-class folks I wouldn’t have been as chill, but, your finances are your business and yours alone.” It wasn’t like Ricky had been particularly forthcoming about his own level of wealth. While he wasn’t even close to the same tax bracket as Winn it was unlikely he would ever truly want for anything.

“I don’t recall you complaining about my level of presumption when I had you bent over my washing machine the other week! But since I’m already acquainted with how handsy sober Winn can be, I think I’ll take my chances with Drunk Winn too.” Winn’s hand squeezed his thigh and he shot him a wicked smile, “Now who’s presumptuous? And we’ll see if you sing that same tune when you see how the evening unfolds. You might regret purchasing this date afterall.”

“If anyone suggested I was “slumming” it with you, they’d get a laugh and a punch ‘cross the face. Laugh, seein’ as how you look like a million bucks. Deckin’, ‘cause I’ve known too many rich assholes to have the patience for that shit.” Winn grimaced. “Not even a full moon week and I’m talkin’ about throwin’ hands. Must be somethin’ in the water.”

He listened attentively, only sputtering a little when Ricky mentioned their escapades again. “Ricky, there’s not a whole lot you could say that’d make me regret this, and, ‘sides, it seems like I’m already gettin’ my money’s worth. And you’ll forgive my rudeness if I remember holdin’ you up by your ass and spreading you open against your dryer a little better. Hard to forget, that.” Winn ran his hand down the middle of Ricky’s thigh, and back up. Two could play at this game, long as Ricky liked. But… “You’ve got me all pent up about the night’s activities, can’t I get even a little hint? I’ll make it worth your while. You name the price.” He snorted. “Not money, though, think I should keep a little around for a rainy day.”

Winn took a glance out his window, at the smattering of stars casting their light on the water. The tinted windows of the Maserati ruined the effect, just a little, but it was still a sight to behold. “It’s beautiful out, isn’t it?” he asked, more to himself than to Ricky. It was hard, had been hard, when he’d been in Europe, to remember to take the time to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. To slow down. Way this night was goin’ so far, he figured it was a good time as any to take every moment in.

“Oh, we all know hanging out with me is slumming it in the best way.” Ricky chuckled, acutely aware that he lived a life of privilege; from his financial comfort, to his social comfort, even to his supernatural comfort. He was reminded, again, that he hadn’t seen or talked to Skylar since their last unfortunate meeting, and a cloud passed briefly over his face, one he quickly strove to erase as he laughed. “Do you get a moon period? Are you super moody right before the moon. Do I need to start stocking up on ice cream and chocolate to throw at you as we start to approach a full moon? Maybe a heating pad and a nice romantic comedy to tide you over?”

Winn’s incredibly detailed recounting of the last time he’d been at Ricky’s house made him flush a scarlet that he was glad was mostly hidden by the car’s dim interior, “Uh huh. You would remember that. Pity I don’t have security cameras. Would have been one hell of a home movie.” His laugh overrode the music for a moment at Winn’s comment, tutting gently, “Oh… you’re going to be a helluva lot more pent up before the night is through, Winn. Don’t you worry… I’ve got a lot planned for us. You’re going to be getting your money’s worth, and a night you’re not going to forget.”

It was an abrupt change in Winn’s tone that accompanied the comment about the beauty around them, and Ricky nodded slowly, “Take exit seventeen up here. But yeah. It is. You know I’ve lived here my whole life… only been outside the state a couple times, and only outside the country once. But still I think Maine is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I love it here.”

Winn groaned. He’d been a big fan of chocolate, before the transformation. He could have a little, on occasion, but he tried to resist, hoping eventually he’d forget how it tasted — like vegetarians always claimed they did with meat. There was a solitary container of M&M’s in the freezer, for when he broke and just needed it. “No chocolate, please. We’re — some werewolves — allergic to it. Dog problems, y’know?”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “But, uh… Yeah, I get… grumpy, but mostly I get out the aggression on the ice. We have… other needs, too. Fightin’ and fuckin’, the werewolf story. If you give into one, you can usually mitigate the other. Since I’m not gettin’ laid every day of my life, I bury myself in burning out the wolf in practice the days ‘round the moon. Go punch trees, be the world’s worst karate stereotype.” He let Ricky talk for a moment, watching for the exit he’d mentioned, only stopping him to joke — “Record me any time, bro, I look great on a camera, I can show off for you.” — and to snort a little at Ricky’s own humor.

Winn took the exit as Ricky talked about his feelings for Maine, letting out a small sigh and deciding to chance a bit of the rawness Cece had (sort of) complimented him on. “I… miss my home, sometimes, y’know? I never thought I’d leave, really. Down south is different, all mountains and valleys and folks who’ll shoot your face off — though, glad to be away from them, uh, mostly. But your home helps me forget about that. A lot, actually. Don’t know if I’ve ever said it aloud, but I don’t know. I… think I could see myself finding a home here.” His voice got quiet, buried in the music thrumming through the car, “I hope.”

Winn cleared his throat. “Could also go traveling the world, though! Y’ever been to Europe? Lots of good food, good people!” He laughed a little too loud, he thought, but maybe he was overthinking it. It’s not like he was tryin’ to hide from Ricky, but, well, maybe Ricky wasn’t the only person who thought he could scare folks away.

Ricky bit his lip for a long moment, taking several deep breaths and steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I am going to try really hard to be respectful here, really very hard… But… you’re telling me… you’re a goddamn werewolf… And you can’t fucking have chocolate.” It took every single iota of control that he had not to laugh hysterically at what seemed to be the funniest bit of supernatural carryover. “That’s… That’s a very interesting bit of dietary restriction and I will be sure to keep that in mind when I order for us this evening.”

Several deep breaths later and he had the urge to laugh entirely under control. “Well you know if you had to be any karate stereotype, you picked a good one. You could have been “weird divorced dad who’s a strip mall karate instructor” and that’s just not a fucking good look for anyone. You can smell the desperation on that one a mile away.”

He listened, carefully and silently, as Winn very uncharacteristically talked at length about something that seemed very personal and sincere. It was a good look for him. When he finished, and Ricky was sure he had finished because he didn’t want to interrupt that particular bout of sincerity, he nodded slowly. “Once. My parents are… or were… or I guess are and were…” he paused for a moment, parsing out the grammatical accuracy of the statement he was about to make, “Actually you know what, it is were. My mom’s dead and my dad moved back. Anyway. My parents were immigrants. My mom was from Ireland and my dad was from Venezuela. So, after I graduated high school… Like literally several hours after… I got on a plane and flew out to meet my mom’s family.”

He paused again, looking ahead at the several conversational roads that diverged in front of him, “My mom’s clan. With her dead, I was the only Selkie left in White Crest, that I knew about, and books can only teach you so much. So…. I spent three months before my freshman year of college in this fucking TINY little fishing village north of Galway. Didn’t speak English til I came back to Maine, just learned… Everything. That I didn’t know about how to be what I am. So… in a very long winded answer to your question… yeah I’ve been to one very very small rural part of Europe once.”

“I appreciate your restraint,” Winn deadpanned, knowing how his chocolate problem sounded, after he’d said it aloud. Ricky was clearly trying to phrase it as delicately as possible, and he did appreciate it, but… c’mon, it wasn’t that funny. There were theories about why the chocolate allergy carried over were varied, and some lucky assholes didn’t even have to deal with it. He snorted at the assessment of stereotypes, quipping a short, “Yeah, that’s not the kind of thing I want people to smell on me, y’know?” One small turn apparently deserved another, and Winn cocked his head to the side, trying to make as much eye contact with Ricky as was possible while still keeping an eye on the road. Luckily, and maybe surprisingly, the road that Ricky was leading them down was fairly clear of cars.

“I, uh—” he started. He knew from his classes, and personal experience, that Ricky had just divulged some fairly deep information, including information about, well, the secret to end all secrets, right? Winn sounded the word “selkie” out in his head while he thought about his response, racking his brain to figure out what that could mean. He thought back to the late night texts Ricky had sent, wondered if he’d meant to tell Winn. Winn wasn’t a guarded person, not really, but he had… the impression that Ricky was, that maybe Ricky being honest with him was something precious, to be cherished. “My father was an immigrant, too. Raised in Singapore for most of ‘is childhood, till his parents decided to send him to the States for college, told him not to come back. I… always appreciated what he did, I guess, for me. Ma was the granddaughter of a coal miner, daughter of a “self-made man” type. Neither of them were werewolves, don’t know I am. Don’t speak to them much.”

He paused, considering how best to say this, not wanting to come across as callous, but knowing, if Ricky’s mother had died before Ricky graduated from high school, that going too far into the “gentle hands'' school would be, maybe, offensive. Grief stung, but pity stung worse. “I’m sorry about your mom,” he settled on. It wasn’t enough, but was there ever anything that could be?

“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what a Selkie is. But I’d like to hear more about it, if you’ll tell me. No pressure. Just… from one shifter to another, I know it can be… weird, reconciling two parts of yourself. Not to, um, assume that’s your experience. I know…” A pause. “... friends o’ mine, who don’t see it as two halves. And for me, for someone who chose this life, I know that I usually feel… more free, when I’m the wolf. Wouldn’t say happier, jus’... freer.” He tentatively put a hand on Ricky’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “And thank you. Know that maybe sounds weird, but… I wasn’t lyin’, I do want to get to know you better, Ricky. Whatever parts you want to show me. So, I’m grateful.”

He glanced at the clock on the dash, doing some quick mental math. “And let me know if there’s another turn I should be lookin’ for. Seems like maybe we should be gettin’ close? To… wherever.” He left his hand on Ricky’s shoulder, waiting for the other man to tell him to move it, or lean in, or do whatever he needed to do. Winn was a hands-on kinda guy, in more ways than one. His words were good, but his actions could speak louder, he thought. He waited.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to call the restaurant and tell them to cancel the chocolate fountain I ordered for dessert.” Ricky was only human… ish… and he could only maintain so much composure upon hearing that his werewolf date for the evening had a legit dog-like chocolate allergy.

To his credit, Winn managed to make it very, very clear that Ricky’s story held his full attention, and the road only part of it, as Ricky laid out at least the framework for the story about what he was and where he’d come from. When he’d finished, Winn started his own story, and it helped Ricky at least start to put the puzzle pieces together of what the man behind the frat boy bravado was like.

He couldn’t help but laugh, however, when Winn admitted he had no idea what Ricky was. “We’re not terribly common. Especially in America. We tend to stick to the UK where we’re from originally. As far as I know, after my mom died I was the only Selkie in White Crest for over a decade. But… we’re shifters, like you, but instead of a wolf, I’m a seal. Born a seal, first turned into a human when I was about two. We’re at-will shifters, as long as we have our skin, so I’m not chained to the whims of the moon like you are. Take a left up here on Hall.” He pointed to the intersection in question and then scratched at the stubble on his chin.

“I never really… I came into the shifter thing at an advantage. We’re born, not made, and I was lucky enough to be born to a family where it was all really commonplace and ordinary, so I never really had to go through the whole ‘duality of identity’ crisis that I know a lot of shifters do. I am a seal, who can turn into a human. That’s just me. I’ve got bigger problems than trying to work out how to wrap my head around that, you know? That’s just… The boring and average part.”

As the car made the turn and he looked at the map on his phone a wolfish smile started to creep its way across his face. “Then up here you’re gonna take a right onto Congress. After about… looks like a mile… the place we’re headed should be on the left. I think you’ll know it when you see it.”

“Well, I’m clearly not the best educated wolf on the block. No one mentioned anythin’ other than werewolves, ‘fore I got changed. Selkie,” Winn started, trying the word out in his mouth again. “Seal. Got it. But, dude. That’s so fuckin’ rad. I don’t, uh, mean to, like— I just, it’s cool to not be the only supernatural thing out there in the big wide world. It’s cool that you’re a part of this, that I mean… that we don’t have to hide that shit between each other?” He felt a light flush rise to his cheeks and ears. “Um— Uh, but—” What the shit, Winner, get your act together.

“We do both have a connection to the moon, though, right?” he tried, grasping at something else Ricky had mentioned to pivot the subject. Moon. Okay, he could talk about the moon. “Don’t know much about seals either, but ocean tides must be somethin’ you’re aware of, I can’t… like, imagine that, if the moon looks at the sea funny, that wouldn’t change somethin’ for y’all? Swimmin’ patterns? Where the good fish are? Same for us ‘n deer or other forest grub. I mean, stop me if I’m totally off base.” He took the first turn. “Wish it was out tonight, really. Not gonna rise till after 3, I think. I haven’t looked at an almanac in a second.”

He took the next turn Ricky pointed out, driving down Congress and takin’ in the sights of Portland. He’d been down here a couple times, and it was a softer sort of city than D.C., but he liked it. “Ricky,” Winn said, turning to look at him fully for a brief moment, eyes soft in the dim light of the car. “Don’t really think there’s much ‘boring’ or ‘average’ ‘bout you, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so.” He turned back in his seat, driving comfortably along, keeping an eye to his left for somethin’ that’d be… obvious. He cracked the window ‘bout halfway, to see a little better past the tint, and that’s when the smell hit him. Fuck.

Winn pushed down a little harder on the pedal, almost instinctively, headin’ towards the source of that smell. Eventually, his eyes caught on a low, brick building, with “SALVAGE BBQ” written on the side in what (Winn thought) was black-and-yellow lettering. He could kiss Ricky. Actually… Winn parallel parked the Mas and, with a big grin, unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across the middle of the car to plant a (oops, probably a little wet?) kiss against Ricky’s stubble, smiling against the other man’s cheek. “You’re a man after my own heart, you know that?” he said, a little breathy. Was he being too excited? He was prolly bein’ too excited. But, well, his metaphorical tail was waggin’. He leaned back over, open up his door. “Bro,” he said, reverently.

“I mean… You still very, very much have to hide this shit, but not from me.” Ricky gave Winn his patented heart melting crooked smile, laying on the charm extra thick as he listened to a blushing Winn navigate his way through some moon logic. “Mmmmm. Maybe technically? But the moon has no practical effect on my day to day life. I can change during any phase of it, and my sense of smell is so acute that I always know where the good fish are. I think the closest connection to the moon I have is that it’s safest for me to change at night, so I’m just used to swimming around by its light.”

He let the conversation trail off a little as they neared their destination, watching Winn carefully. The minute the man cracked the window, Ricky knew he’d figure it out; if he could smell the bbq with seal sense then Winn definitely could with werewolf scent. Sure enough, Ricky could swear he saw Winn’s ears actually perk up when he caught the scent and sight of the building they were approaching. “I’m pretty and dumb, but did you really think I was making us get all dressed up for some fancy ass shit? Nah bruh, that’s a bait and goddamn switch right there. So congrats, we’re gonna be the only two people in three-piece suits up in what has been lauded as Portland’s best bbq place.”

He laughed at the excited kiss planted on his cheek before getting out of the low sports car, feet crunching across the gravel as they walked towards the door. “Sit, boy.” He pointed to a nearby table with “Reserved Cordero” on it before walking over to the counter, “Yeah hi. I called ahead earlier. Cordero. We had two Meat Fatalities, quart of collard greens, quart of mac and cheese, two sides of the BFFs, large order of hush puppies, and three orders of pickles. Could I also get two waters, two of that bourbon barrel-aged stout I see on tap, and about a whole roll of paper towels? We’re gonna need it.” He carefully balanced the beer and water as he wandered back over to the table, setting them down and grinning, “I ordered enough food for about fifteen people. So. I hope you came hungry. This is only stop one. Gotta fuel up.”

Ricky had a real nice smile, Winn thought. One that Winn wanted to keep puttin’ on the other man’s face; after all, he had a whole night to do it. So, he’d been wrong about the tides affectin’ Ricky. Big whoop. He had time to learn the ins and outs (... and ins and outs) of selkie biology. He’d picked up what he needed about wolves, easy enough. “You’re a goddamn menace,” Winn said as Ricky explained his plan, “... but one who’s got me pegged pretty well, it seems. This is the shit.” Winn’s laugh was big and full, enough so that a pedestrian looked over for a moment in concern. But fuck that dude, he was having fun.

The inside of the place reminded him a little of the campgrounds that the National Park service had set-up through the Shenandoah — long picnic tables situated against the windowed wall, smaller tables set up throughout, a little dinery, a little rough-’n-tumble. “Sit, boy.” did things to Winn that he’d be ashamed to admit in polite company, sending a pleasant shock up his spine. The wolf felt what Winn felt about the whole affair, but more… primally. Winn sat down, shifting his suit pants while Ricky’s back was turned and hoping like hell a wannabe Karen hadn’t seen him pretty much fondlin’ his dick underneath the table. He had a reputation to keep in tact, damn it.

He heard bits and pieces of what Ricky had ordered for them, wiping the mental (and, frankly, physical, whoops) drool away from the side of his mouth. Winn hadn’t eaten since that morning, to be prepared for whatever the date might entail — a ten-thousand dollar fuck far from out of the question. Mentally, he made a deal of sorts between the two halves of himself. No, you can’t just shove your face down in the meat and go to town, that’s gross. Yes, if you aren’t satisfied, I’ll coax the beautiful seal man into another helpin’. No growling, no matter how hungry or horny you are. Just… don’t. Non-wolves think it’s weird.

When Ricky mentioned the sheer amount of grub he ordered, Winn just grinned, too delighted for words. He took a long pull of the stout that Ricky had gotten, the oakyness slidin’ down his throat just right before respondin’. Leaning across the table, reminiscent of the first date they’d had, Winn said, at his usual volume (which is to say, slightly above an inside voice), “What’s our plan of attack here, Ricks? You’re the ‘cue master, you’ve gotta guide me. Teach me. Tantalize me.” A wink and a smirk, as was his typical choice when bein’ forward on purpose. “And if this is only stop one, I can’t wait to see what comes next. Bet it’s a big ol’ secret, though, huh?” He leaned back in his seat, head cocked subtly to the side, takin’ in the smell of the ‘cue… and of Ricky, the wolf waggin’ its tail happily, at peace with itself — with himself.

It was infinitely edifying to Ricky to see how much he’d hit the nail on the head with both his restaurant choice and his date choice. He’d gone through a lot of options in his head; high brow weekend in New York, drug and booze fuck/game fest in a cabin by the lake, renting a boat for a moonlight sail, the options had been many. But in the end Ricky had decided that none of them felt… Winn. He did know, however, that Winn had an eye and stomach for barbecue, and after some research had discovered this place.

A band played at the far end of the restaurant, some four piece local folk ensemble singing about ghosts in the woods, and he knocked his glass against Winn’s before taking a long drink of what turned out to be a pretty damn decent stout. He moved the various bottles of barbecue sauce around the table as he listened to Winn, “The plan of attack? Eat. Eat. More eat.” He looked over his shoulder to see no fewer than three waiters carrying their trays of food toward them, inhaling deeply as they set them down in front of them.

“Hey. Ricky doesn’t phone it in when he’s gotta take a dude out. This place has won like a million awards. And I know you’re serious when it comes to barbecue. And yes. It is a big ol’ secret and you know that. You gotta just roll with the punches tonight.” He grabbed one of the french fries and started nibbling at it, examining his sauce selections as he inhaled the smell of the barbecue in front of him. “I think I’m gonna start with chicken though. Because why the fuck not. Everyone loves chicken.”

They chowed down for a few minutes before Winn came up for air. He was making a conscious effort not to eat like, well, a wolf, but Ricky seemed to have his own appetite to sate. Protein would certainly play well, later… if the later that Winn envisioned came to fruition. The food was so damn good. “Damn, dude.” He looked at the spread before them, not even a little full, but in awe of the sheer amount of barbecue on display. The different sauces danced across his tongue — his favorite, a sweet Carolina with just a hint of vinegar. But there was a hotter one, a little more tangy, that was also right up his alley. The meat was all cooked perfectly, moist enough that it’d be great on its own, and not so moist that it didn’t take the sauce on, and the sides? Shit, Winn had never even been a collard greens person, and he’d kill a man for the recipe on display here.

“Bro…” He didn’t have the words to express just how much this was up his alley. “You really know the way to a man’s heart, and stomach. That’s for fuckin’ sure.” This was going to be a good night.

#wickedswriting #para #Ricky #The Ten Thousand Dollar Question #wickedsmature #//#102 Days Later

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chaeopteryx · 2 years

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i have many complaints about the boba show so let’s begin because what is the internet better for than complaining

1 literally no character development for any besides boba. like the lack of fennec and seeing her grow and shit is very disappointing. same with the mod crew. while it is a short show, they put barely any focus on them and made them into blank slates. we had no reason to care about them - no insight on their motivations, how they live, anything. when the girl said they weren’t leaving, i had no way to see her view or literally care about what she wanted. really disappointed with them.

2 character and scene design. i loved majority of tattooine, it felt like it has in the past, whatever. my complaints are on the design of the mod crew mainly. they look so out of place with the rest of tatooine. they’re hightech, shiny kids while tatooine still looks very sand and sorta shabby. i don’t know how to describe the look of tatooine, but it’s recognizable. they could have made the mod crew much more scruffed up to fit in, but they didn’t and it ended up with me not liking them. the look of the safe place casino thing also bothered me. i literally dont know what it’s called, but it was also much more hightech than the rest of mos espa. the lady said tatooine was changing but we have no evidence of that. both felt very out of place.

3 it’s boring. the fight seems were all pretty slow, like that speeder chase scene from i think ep3? for example. the whole show was pretty boring and couldn’t keep my attention whatsoever.

4 mando. now i love mando and think he saved the show from being completely horrible. but this isn’t his show - it’s boba’s. we could have done with less mando content and more time to focus on boba i feel.

i had really high hopes for this show after the mandalorian and was thoroughly disappointed. i just hope the obi wan show is good.

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laurabelle2930 · 7 years

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Every Life has a Moment~Olicity fic 4/5

Disclosure: Smutty times ahead...so it might be termed as explicit...you’ve been warned.

Read it here or on AO3

Chapter 4

Reconnecting

She awoke to the strange sound of perfect silence; her shoulders grew tense as she began to lean upward slowly. The man beside her groaned tiredly, “Please don’t tell me you heard her cry?”

Felicity patted the back of his hand affectionately, “No baby she’s asleep,” she too groaned when her eyes swept toward the clock placed innocently on her bedside table. The bright, fire engine red light displayed a steady 3:08 with the am lit just beside it. She pushed her knees towards her chest as she continued her steady, uphill climb.

She felt Oliver rumble beside her as he shifted from his back to his right side, “Please tell me you’re not going to disrupt her?”

Felicity shook her head before her chin dipped to her chest. She grimaced a bit when her eyes flickered over her worn night clothes. Before their daughter was born Felicity slept in nightgowns made of flimsy silk that more often than not left her skin mere moments after her head landed on the pillow. When she was pregnant her taste’s changed. She wanted something that would allow her to grow as the baby did so she opted for fabrics made of cotton...or as Oliver often pointed out shirts that smelled like him. She’d chosen about four of his old college tee-shirts to wear as her stomach grew. Her defense for the change had been geared toward the baby but in reality as she grew something in their relationship changed. He wasn’t distant but, no longer did she fall asleep smelling of lavender and their mixed sweat; now all she could smell was sweat, baby powder and oddly enough dried milk.

Her nose wrinkled when she brushed her fingers over a crusted spot of spit up courtesy of a very blonde, blue eyed little girl. Oliver grumbled again when his previous words went unanswered, “Seriously honey please tell you’re going to let her be?”

Felicity swept her fingers over her bent knees, “Relax sweetheart I have no desire to wake the finally sleeping demon,” she laughed quietly as she shifted her gaze and smiled a bit brighter.

Oliver’s nose was nestled deeply between the rumbled edges of his pillow case, his soft kissable lips were parted and, his usually maintained scruff was now three days too long. She was about to rub her fingers over the soft overgrowth near the line of his defined jaw when he mumbled into his pillow, “Good because I haven’t slept in three months...”

Felicity sighed in agreement, “Yeah but at least your breasts aren’t sore.”

She saw his chest rumble with amusement, “Too bad I’m not the reason for the discomfort.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled a bit too lowly, “Too bad indeed.”

She waited for his next verbal volley but all she received was a sharp snore brushing over her bare upper hip. Felicity swallowed another low sigh and, let her eyes wonder over her sorta husband’s beautiful body. She rested her forearms over her knees and rubbed her elbows with brisk fingers. His strong arms were placed along the two sides of his half exposed face. His fingers were lying limply over the edge of the mattress in the space between it and the headboard. She followed the line of his angled bicep until she could mentally trace along the line of his covered scapula. She bit at her lip as usual while her greedy eyes slid shut. She moved her fingers over her upper arms rapidly and pretended for just a moment that her skin was the taut skin of his upper back.

Her head fell back briefly when her imagination allowed her to envision the curve of his lower back. Her stomach clenched when she was near the rounded edge of his delectable ass... he coughed inwardly, “Honey I’m tired...” causing her eyes to snap open.

Her hands were now frozen along her chilled skin, her body was still coiled tightly to her chest and, he was still sleeping soundly beside her. Felicity groaned in frustration, “Great I can’t even get laid in my imagination now...” before she uncurled her legs and, began gingerly moving her weary muscles towards the cool floors.

Oliver rustled a bit but remained safely in his dreams as she carefully placed her toes along the area rug near her side of the bed. She shivered and glanced once more at the clock. The still red display seemed to taunt her gleefully as the steady numbers mocked her inability to find solace in her dreams. She groaned, “3:40,” lowly before forcing herself to stand along the edge of the bed. She pulled her arms upward until her fingers were joined over her head. She stretched out her entire body before her now wider hips swayed her gently toward the darkened family room.

She looked along the floor as she stepped gingerly. Their once immaculate home was now a staging space for organized chaos. The lights along the kitchen island were dimly lit allowing her to see tonight’s dinner dishes as they laid untouched in the kitchen sink. She glared at the three empty bottles and the un-sterilized nipples near the kitchen stove. She held back a strangled laugh when she spotted the blue bunny sitting innocently in the center of their daughter’s white highchair. The edge of her big toe hit along her “play” crib as she tiptoed over the debris field of forgotten toys. She sighed happily when her toes rubbed along the one clean surface of her entire household. The rug felt new, soft, and vibrant as she moved slowly past the coffee table and towards the over-sized chair near the floor to ceiling windows.

Once her calves landed over the crème colored fabric she immediately felt at peace. The sounds of her home moved on around her as she sat in comfortable silence. The refrigerator hummed behind her as the ice maker dumped out another row of perfectly squared cubes. The air conditioner clicked on so the small hairs along the nape of her exposed neck stood along her chilled skin. The soft summer breeze whipped through the cities tall buildings as the lightning flashed brightly in the cloud covered skies. Moments later the glass seemed to rattle as the thunder echoed darkly in the cold distance. The city below made her skin glow as the shadows of the light danced along her pale complexion.

She whispered to the darkening skies, “And the city slept as the storm waged war between the angels of the living and the angels of hell...”

The thunder rolled through her body like an eager friend moving for a tender embrace. She let the sound vibrate through her skin while the sound of the pattering rain filled her empty soul with hope for a new tomorrow. “Is that from the poem you wrote in college?”

She smiled slowly as she coiled her body inwards along the lines of the overstuffed chair. “Hmmm, it’s the fourth line,” she replied quietly as the building storm growled angrily from just beyond the city’s skyline.

He padded forward through the debris field. She watched his strong legs moving gracefully along the cluttered floors. His boxers were wrinkled, his grey tee-shirt was rumbled and his hair was messed from the movements of his roaming fingers. He yawned once his feet were along the center area rug, “Honey what’s up?”

Felicity shrugged innocently, “I’m restless, I’m tired, and well I’m another thing but that’s not a 4am discussion.”

He stopped before her with his arms crossed and his legs parted. She had to tilt her neck to see past the shadows around his tired eyes. His gaze flickered with longing as he fell slowly to his sturdy knees. He ordered coarsely, “Place your feet on the ground and spread your legs...”

Felicity’s back straightened almost instantly. She pulled her legs out from beneath her and slowly began to edge her legs down the front of the chair. She asked coyly, “I’m never said I was horny...”

He smirked knowingly as he placed his broad palms along her shaking knees. He brushed his thumbs over the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs and, began to massage along the bones of her cramped legs. Her head fell back as she moaned, “it’s been so long since you’ve touched me...”

She felt the ridges of his pectoral muscles through the fabric of his thin shirt as he slowly inched his way between her waiting legs. “I was waiting until you were ready...” he murmured darkly with need.

She rasped as he skimmed his fingers down the line of her inner thighs, “You were?”

He chuckled darkly, “Honey when’s the last time you let me see you?”

She couldn’t help herself when she cocked her curious head. Oliver smiled almost shyly as his fingers splayed out along the hemline of her standard, cotton panties. Suddenly Felicity wished she’d worn something a bit more attractive as she muttered vaguely, “You see me all the time?”

She brushed her fingers through his matted hair as her knees locked along his ribcage. Her ankles hooked near the small of his angled back while he brushed his thumbs roughly over her pelvic bone. He grumbled lowly when she trailed her fingers down to the nape of his neck, “I used to know every curve of your body but, just now when I rubbed my fingers over your thighs I became aware of the subtle difference in your shape...”

She gaped at his honesty and, trailed her fingers down to rest timidly over his scruffed cheeks. “Describe it...” she nearly begged.

Oliver grinned sweetly, “With words only?” he asked as he trailed his fingers over the waistband of her panties.

Felicity tugged along her bottom lip with her upper teeth and moaned darkly, “If I said no what would that mean?”

His eyes shifted within the darkness of the open room. The thunder rolled loudly as her heart stammered erratically in her needy chest. She gulped when his fingers left her teeming skin, he smiled a bit too eagerly then said, “Relax Felicity...We’ll take this as we always do...”

Her eyes danced in muted appreciation, “It’s not that I don’t want you,” she admitted more to herself than anyone else. “Hell I want to have sex but something keeps holding me back,” she muttered again more to herself than to the man before her.

“Yeah I figured when you whispered that you couldn’t even get laid in your imagination...” he blustered as he placed his fingers over her own.

She chuckled lightly, “I thought you were asleep...”

He winked then muttered, “I’ve learned you reveal more when you think you’re all alone...”

Felicity mumbled, “This is about more than just sex isn’t it?”

He brought his fingers to her wrists and slowly edged her thumbs over his lips. He softly kissed the pads then breathed against her skin, “Something between us isn’t the same...”

Her forehead nearly fell over their joined hands when she exhaled, “So it’s not just me?”

He guided her hands to the nape of his neck and waited as she laced her fingers. He then massaged his way over her forearms until he reached her elbows. Felicity slowly unhooked her ankles and gently tugged her hips forward so her chest was nearly flush with his. He remained between her parted legs with her knees placed along his hips. She shuddered a bit when he pushed his hands over her upper arms and towards her shoulders. Then he used his hands to guide her body even closer. She leaned into his touch as she pulled his lips to hers. He breathed ruggedly, “I need to be with you...”

Felicity moaned in complete agreement, “I need to feel you inside me,” she added as their lips lightly brushed.

He smiled into the first timid kiss, “But before we can run we have too...” he waited with bated with breath as Felicity chuckled out the one word answer.

“Walk, but one question my love?” she croaked with a bit of worry edged in her tone.

“What’s that?” he whispered before kissing her chastely.

Her body vibrated with envy as the rain pounded along the window panes. Her lips felt shaky as he rubbed his talented fingers along the nape of her neck. “If we discuss why we aren’t having sex then we’ll have to discuss the other issue...” she mentioned a bit hesitantly.

Oliver bit at her bottom lip seductively then suggested a way to remedy the situation, “I have a way to make the conversation less cumbersome...”

“Does it involve touching?” she giggled as his hands began moving eagerly down the line of her covered spine.

“Maybe,” he grinned vibrantly as she moved her fingers through his hair.

“Making me come while we talk about our marital status is a rather interesting idea I agree,” she moaned when he spread his fingers along her hips once he managed to dip them beneath the hemline of her “practical” underwear.

Felicity choked in surprise when she felt his index finger falling over her ready clit. “Wow someone’s eager,” she exclaimed in hushed tones just as the lightening lit up his aroused face.

His blue eyes were murky, his body was coiled and his pulse was erratic as he used three fingers to explore her darkened inner walls, while the thumb on his opposite hand was busy pushing roughly along her small bundle of needy nerves. He made her back arch when he rubbed his chest over her pebbled nipples. Her head fell back as a low scream raced through her entire body before exiting from her parted lips, “Shit baby...that’s...damn I’ve missed you...”

He pressed his lips to her collarbone and licked at her pulse point while he mumbled, “Why aren’t we married yet?”

Felicity panted as her knees buckled along his waist, “Well I was busy carrying your child so I guess I was distracted.”

She cried, “Shit baby, if you do that again I’ll scream loud enough to wake our daughter...”

Oliver sucked along the tender skin of her jawbone, while he kept moving his fingers in and out of her slick, clenching, inner walls. His thumb was over her clit when he finally breathed, “What’s stopping us now?”

Felicity felt the familiar line of sweat beginning to roll slowly down her arched spine. Her fingers were clenched in his hair while his lips remained anchored to any visible aspect of skin. She breathed into the darkened room as he once again plundered her darkened depths, “I wanna fuck you and I’m afraid you’ll no longer want too...”

She expected his fingers to still at her emotionally driven confession but as usual his response left her completely winded. He growled darkly as he trailed his lips over her throat, “I’d fuck you right now if our daughter wasn’t a wall away...”

Her snicker morphed into a throaty scream, “What do you call this?”

His teeth skimmed lightly over her puckered skin, “A gentle reminder of what I can make you feel...”

He drilled a bit deeper as she let herself grind down over his moving fingers. Her fingers fell to his shoulders, her back arched even further so her thoroughly aroused nipples were nearly along his bobbing throat. He kissed his way down her shirt covered sternum as she bucked roughly over his hand. She felt him grin along her upper ribcage when she could barely mumble, “You’d fuck me here and now if you wanted to so what gives?”

His teeth pulled easily along her shirt, the fabric rubbing over her erect nipples made her groan as her anchored fingers began to bruise. Oliver’s touch remained steady as she ached for the coming release. He pushed roughly over her clit once more before uttering, “I want to do so much more than fuck you Felicity...” He gulped then added harshly, “I want to reconnect our souls...”

As his lips slipped over the last s her body began to rapidly crumble. She panted as the thunder rolled, “Yeah that we need to be alone for...”

He nipped at her nipple through the shirts fabric; she couldn’t control the small yelp as her hips began to quiver. His pace remained punishing as he echoed her previous sentiment, “I need to be with you, but it’s deeper than that, we’re deeper than that...”

Her fingers dug along the toned flesh of his shoulders as her body erupted like a dormant volcano. She could feel the lava spilling through her needy veins like the rain over a dry field. Her heart glowed as her body warmed. She felt his body shuddered against her as he placed his forehead over her stammering heart. She coiled her fingers through the wrinkles of his tee-shirt as he removed his fingers from her abused core. He gulped, “I need to love you Felicity but, I need your love in return...”

She ruffled his hair softly as her lungs begged for much needed air, “I’ll have mom take her tonight,” she rasped as the world around her began to grow brighter.

He gulped, “Honey?”

She managed a gnarled, “Yeah baby?” as her body continued to shudder from its previous high.

“I miss you,” he whispered as his lips fell over her left breast.

She smiled quietly as she murmured, “I miss you too...”

A rather delighted knock at her front door made the adorable child in her arms squeal. Felicity looked down at her daughter. Her chubby little arms were beating wildly through the open air as Felicity smiled. She bounced the giggling girl in her arms and laughed with infectious enthusiasm, “I think that’s Nana, Yes I do...” she gently coo’d as she pressed her daughter’s palm into her own.

The blue eyed, blonde haired baby screamed with utter delight as Felicity shifted her towards her hip. She called out over her shoulder, “Mom the doors unlocked...” before adding, “and please don’t tell Oliver he’ll kill me!”

Moira walked in holding three shopping bags and dismayed frown, “Angel he’s got a point...” she prattled as her heels clicked along the floors.

Felicity rolled her eyes and babbled to her giggling daughter, “Nana’s only saying that because she wants us to move into the manor on the hill...”

Moira gasped in amusement, “So you have noticed my not so subtle hints!”

Felicity kissed her daughter’s flawless brow, “Hard not to,” she whispered along her daughter’s perfect skin.

Moira moved around the highchair and placed her bags on the kitchen island’s counter. She then trailed her fingers along her grand-daughters tangled blonde curls before fixing Felicity with a motherly stare. “So have you two settled on her name?”

Felicity’s eyes instantly fell, “That’s another reason for our night alone...” she noted with shame.

Her precious Evie giggled as she nuzzled her perfect face into her mother’s shoulder. Felicity kissed her crown quickly then mumbled in her sweet smelling hair, “He’s still set on Donna but something about that just weird’s me out so I’m still set on Evie...”

Moira sighed, “Is Evie short for Evelyn?”

“Nope, just Evie, why?” she sighed as Moira’s stare made her lowly tremble.

Her adoptive mother swept her fingers across her brow then left her fingers along her cheek. Her eyes twinkled brightly as she softly spoke, “Did you know that it took us four months to name Thea?”

Felicity shook her head a little bit but replied, “No...why?”

“Robert wanted something cute like Tiffany and I wanted something regal like Jocelyn so we literally argued for months while we both fought for our suggested names,” she offered as Felicity began to slowly sway she and Evie in place.

“What helped you decide,” she murmured as she let her daughter’s chubby little fingers curl around one of her own.

Moira smiled softly, “Oliver...he came in one night with our family tree and threw it down on the floor before us. He then declared with a very determined tone that we either pick a name from that list or he’d choose for us.”

“And Thea comes from?” Felicity giggled with appreciation at her fiancé’s stubborn steak.

Moira rubbed her thumb along her cheekbone and gazed down at her sweet grand-daughter, “It was from a distant cousin on my side,” she replied evenly.

Felicity leaned into her affectionate touch and smiled contently, “What was Oliver’s choice going to be?”

She chuckled at the fond memory, “Sydney,” she laughed. “He chose Sydney because we’d just visited Australia that spring.

Felicity rolled the name around her tongue as her daughter’s sleepy eyes began to fall. “Sydney...Sydney Elizabeth Queen...” she murmured more to herself than to anyone else.

Moira chuckled as she withdrew her hand, “I take it Elizabeth is because of your mother’s affinity for that name?”

She nodded then added, “and of course the name has to go with Queen...”

Her newly named daughter’s chubby cheek fell on her mother’s firm shoulder as she began to lightly snore. Felicity pressed her lips to her closed eyes and rubbed her palm over her curved back. Sydney snuggled into her mother’s embrace as Moira said, “Why not Sydney Elizabeth Smoak-Queen?”

Felicity lifted her eyes and curved her lips as she rested her chin over her daughter’s forehead. “I’ve been an honorary Queen since I was five and while Oliver has already said we’re going to hyphenate I’m deciding we’re not...”

Moira’s brow furrowed in confusion at her words. “Angel if he’s pushing for it then why aren’t you?”

She smiled, “I don’t need her name to be a law firm, I can see my mother in her smile and I can hear my father in her laugh. I can see Oliver in her eyes and you in her skin tone. I can see everyone I love in my daughter, so her name should be about moving forward and not anchoring her to the past,” she realized aloud for perhaps the first time.

“But Sydney is from the past?” Moira lightly debated with a broad smile.

“Yeah but that name was chosen by the boy I fell for when I was five,” she whispered. “He’s the reason that she’s even here so I’d say that’s a pretty good link wouldn’t you agree?”

Moira nodded in happy surrender. “Are you ready for me to take her for the evening?”

Felicity nodded softly, “Just give me another minute,” she quietly asked. “I never knew what it feel like,” she whispered as she held her daughter close.

“What, what would feel like sweetheart?” Moira asked knowingly.

Felicity closed her eyes and breathed, “Feeling whole. I never knew what it would feel like when she made us whole...”

Felicity surveyed her handiwork carefully. Moira took Sydney three hours ago leaving her enough time to scrub her house down from top to bottom. She stood before her floor to ceiling windows and carefully scanned the room with a critical eye. The late afternoon sun left her camisole covered skin feeling blissfully warm as she slowly cracked her weary neck. Their daughter’s door was closed, her “play” crib was straightened up and all her various toys were stowed within the confines of the white walls. She eyed her kitchen as she placed her palms over her waist. The granite was clear of any dirty dishes or small stuffed toys, her dishwasher had recently finished its load, the pots over the stove had been dusted then cleaned. Her stainless steel fridge was cleared of any spots or smudged fingerprints, her white cabinets looked brand new and her grey floors were practically worthy of being eaten off of.

She sighed however when she noticed her family space was still not up to par...She frowned then mumbled, “I need about four more hours in any given day...” as she spotted a few tumbleweeds of dust roaming beneath her sectional.

Her rug was still clean, and the glass covered coffee table was clear but still she wasn’t happy...she pressed her toes along her calf while she slid her palm over the nape of her neck. She exhaled tirelessly as the door knob turned.

She glanced at the squeaking hinges and smiled a bit brighter when to her immense surprise came a beautiful array of mixed colored orchids. “I see someone remembered the prom story a bit too well...” she teased as his brilliant blue eyes came peering around the door frame.

His smile made her heart melt and palms sweat as he slowly advanced into the mostly clean room. The beat from their downstairs neighbor’s music made his eyes slant downwards, “I see you didn’t have time to call it...” he groaned in annoyance as he placed the flowers gently on the kitchen counter.

Felicity shrugged then resumed her visual inspection, “Sorry babe but between getting Sydney ready for mom and cleaning the house I got a bit distracted.”

She had her bottom lip between her teeth when Oliver sputtered, “Sydney?”

Felicity smiled a bit as she nodded slowly, “Yeah a little story inspired me to finally name our daughter.” She pulled along the hem of her camisole, “What do you think?” she asked nervously.

He leaned into the island, his arms were folded over his chest as he cracked a breathtaking smile, “Mom told you about how they named Thea didn’t she?”

Felicity nodded, “Yeah...”

His chin fell to his chest as he quietly reflected. Felicity saw the way his shoulders instantly slumped. She stroked her toes over her calf once more and bit over her bottom lip. Her body felt jittery like she’d had five cups of coffee, her heart fluttered and her stomach churned as he remained silent. She wanting to diffuse the unintentional tension so she took the stolen moment to prattle on a bit about her day. “Mom also told me that my technology subdivision within the company will be ready to go by next week....so we might want to consider hiring a nanny since we’ll both be back to work.”

Still his eyes remained steadily on the floor. Felicity suddenly felt tense so she traveled down another road, “She also brought up the idea of moving back home since they’ll be in Italy for the next year with the new merger?” her voice died when he still refused to budge.

She was about to try one last topic when he said softly with muted tones, “When I found out we were having a girl I immediately wanted to name her Sydney...” Felicity’s body froze. Oliver’s shoulders shuddered as his affected voice echoed through her warming heart. “I remember that night once you’d fallen asleep with your head on my chest,” he laughed a bit as did she since that up until last night was their only form of real physical intimacy. “I remember tracing along the lines of the blurry sonogram photo and whispering there’s my Sydney...there’s my baby girl...”

Felicity whispered, “Why didn’t you ever suggest it?”

He glanced up finally with a flurry of emotions reflecting off his handsome face. She recognized the curve of his bottom lip when he replied, “You didn’t want anything tying her to our past and Sydney...”

“Was perfect,” she interrupted quickly. “It’s perfect because it was thought up by the seven year old who melted my five year old heart.”

Oliver’s blue eyes nearly shimmered when he sighed, “A child can’t fall in love Felicity...”

She cocked her head as her fingers massaged along the base of her spine, “Why not? I did,” she volleyed as he smirked.

“You had an odd way of showing it,” he countered as she laughed timidly.

“I was scared,” she allowed with brevity.

He nodded in polite acceptance, “So was I...”

Her stomach jumped, “What do you mean you were scared?” she mused with quiet reflection.

His blue eyes sparked as he undid the first button along his dress jacket. She wanted to move but didn’t; she stayed there in the center of the family room with her nervous fingers along the nape of her neck. Oliver grinned with sweet intentions while muttering, “This isn’t about my hang-ups Felicity.”

“It can be,” she murmured with regret when she shot him a sorry gaze. “It needs to be,” she corrected when he returned the timid stare.

His fingers slipped over the second button as he smiled sadly. She seemed to squeak as her head fell and her lips parted, “I’m afraid you won’t desire me…”

He almost coughed, “What?” as the sound of shock rolled through her nimble body.

She shrugged before taking a small step forward, “Well I just realized that not once in our entire relationship have you ever let me see your fears so…”

“So you thought by giving up your biggest one I’d perhaps give you a few of my own in exchange,” he surmised with his adorable questioning tone.

She wrinkled her small nose and grinned slightly, “Love’s a two way street baby and as you said you can’t fight for us alone…”

She saw him lean forward once her amused words had found their home within his forgiving heart. She remained still as he slowly approached. He first removed his dress jacket and threw it on one of the chairs along the kitchen island’s bar. She removed the elastic from her hair and pulled her fingers through the tangled mess. She apologized briefly, “I truly meant to take a shower…”

His sweet smile of amusement grew. Her own lips curved when his fingers landed over the knot of his partially undone tie. “I’m guessing we’re going to rectify that situation aren’t we?”

She heard her voice falter, “Ummm, we can I guess?”

His fingers moved swiftly down the tie, “Although you’ll end up needing another one if the night goes the way I’m expecting it to…” he announced like one would if they were announcing dinner.

Felicity’s heart raced, “So ummm you’re going to ease my concerns over my changed body?” she let the question fall flat as her body began to betray her brain.

In a rare move Oliver took a page from her book and bit along his lower lip. Felicity’s entire body tensed in spontaneous arousal as he slowly undid the remainder of his tie. His dark chuckle made her stomach burn, “Well,” he started with the voice of aged whiskey, “you’re afraid I won’t desire you so I’m going to remedy that situation by discovering the parts of your body that you’re afraid I no longer yearn to touch.”

Felicity’s heat fell to her pattering feet. “You know that’s not fair,” she complained. “You say something so completely erotic and I’m left standing here like a damn puddle wondering how you ever decided to fall in love with someone who could barely utter the word sex until she was 20!” Her chest heaved in aggravation while he continued to casually remove his clothing.

His fingers were along his shirt buttons when he spoke gingerly, “Your hips are wider since the baby was born.”

Felicity’s hands flew to her waist at the completely off subject comment as she scowled, “How in the world do you know that?”

She swallowed a low pant when he slowly pulled his shirt tails out from his still buckled pants. His eyes glinted with mischief when he lowly replied, “I know every square inch of your body Felicity…”

She gulped, “But you haven’t touched me in months?”

He sighed as his shirt hit the floor, he proceeded to kick off his black dress shoes with careless ease while she remained confused by his words from before. He removed his dress socks quickly and still she stood there flummoxed. She finally stepped backwards toward their open bedroom door when his body taunted her cruelly once he placed his fingers over his belt buckle. She slipped her fingers past the waistband of her sweats and groaned darkly in muted realization, “You’ve been watching me haven’t you?”

His slow nod made her lips part and her body quiver. “You leave the door open when you shower; so most mornings before you’d come to kiss my cheek I’d simply lie on my side and watch you rapidly dry your wet skin.”

His words made her moan from her stomach, “That’s kinda perverted…”

His trousers fell to the floor, she watched him slowly step out of them before his fingers fell beneath his boxer’s waistband. Her mouth nearly watered when the thin material fell to the floor. He smirked when her eyes fell to behold his fairly substantial arousal, “So is you doing the same thing…”

Her eyes widened, “I honestly thought you never noticed?” she squeaked as he sauntered closer. Her spine hit the frame of their bathroom door when she muttered, “Can you honestly blame me?”

His seductive smile and aroused blue eyes made her thighs quiver as her palms landed against the wall. Oliver pressed his nearly hardened erection over her lower abdomen so his tip was dancing dangerously close to her hungry clit. Her body trembled when he grazed his fingers up the line of her exposed forearms, her heart nearly stopped when he hooked his thumbs in fabric of her camisoles hem. He deftly pulled the material upward as she slowly felt her palms moving along the surface of the drywall behind her. He nearly stammered, “I was afraid you’d never see who I became…”

Felicity’s quivering lips fell, “Oliver I fell for you before I knew what falling meant…” she breathed as he slowly began to expose her untouched skin. The air conditioner kicked on, the vent above her head whistled slightly when the cold air rushed rapidly through the air ducts. She shivered when the room grew steadily colder. Oliver brushed his thumbs across her navel; her head fell back instantly when his index finger grazed the underside of her right breast.

His rich voice made her skin vibrate as he said, “I’m the one who put the barrier up this time…”

She tilted her head along the wall sighed as he slowly pushed her shirt up and over her erect nipples. “You pulled away because of my medical history didn’t you?”

She felt his thumbs ghosting over the pert tips when he mumbled lowly, “Being here without both of you wasn’t even close to a viable option.”

She slowly began to raise her arms once she felt the heaviness of her breasts falling over her ribcage. Oliver pulled her top off carefully as her eyes fluttered. Her dark voice vibrated through her wanton body when she finally managed to moan, “Having sex is just one form of intimacy Oliver, we could have done other things to keep our physical relationship strong.”

She heard her shirt hit the floor shortly after he began to trail the tips of his fingertips down her curved sides. She felt the small lines along the pads of fingers as he deliberately took his time in reaching her curvier waist. She heard his breath catch in his throat before his mumbled words ghosted along her collarbone. “Yes but then this moment wouldn’t be nearly this incredible.”

“Finding something you like Mr. Queen?” she teased as his touch began to tickle along her lower ribcage.

He sounded amazed when he muttered, “You’re body is so…”

“Flabby, out of shape, untoned, and lined with stretch marks?” she guessed mainly in fear.

Oliver swallowed a dull laugh but still managed to whisper, “No you idiot you’re fucking beautiful…”

Her chest heaved, “Then why aren’t you inside me yet?” she begged as his palms fell along her waist. She wound her fingers through his thick hair and growled harshly when his fingers played along the skin of her hips. “Come on baby don’t make me beg…”

She felt his smirk along her earlobe when his husky voice made her quiver down to her trembling toes, “I won’t be gentle about this…”

She tugged roughly at his hair then bit sharply at his jaw before murmuring, “Who asked you to gentle about anything?”

He bit roughly at her jaw making her scream as he quickly removed her remaining clothes. She felt the heat and, strength of his cock along her parted lips as he slightly bent his knees. He grazed her skin with his teeth once more before his dark words made her body internally scream, “I’m going to fuck you hard and fast baby…”

She rubbed her slick nether lips over his tip then screamed, “Enough stalling either fuck me or I’ll make myself come…” Ten seconds later her eyes rolled beneath her closed lids as her inner walls stretched painfully to accommodate his growing length. Her hips bucked sharply, her voice sounded pained when she cried, “I forgot how this felt…”

Oliver’s small laugh made her thighs burn, “That’s a bit insulting honey…”

She took the joke in stride as her muscles began to relax. The sharp twinge near the small of her back began to ease; her knees shook as he slowly began to guide her body forward and the up. His palms were against her lower ass; her chest was pressed to his, her rock hard nipples felt like glaciers cutting along a ship’s bow as their skin brushed. His lips drifted over her tilted neck while she used her fingers to tug along his hair. He grunted sharply, “You planning on having a bald husband?”

She lowly screamed, “Would you prefer to bleed?”

He nuzzled her skin with his nose and whispered along her pulse point, “Sex makes you funny.”

She laughed as he let her feel every elongated inch. His stride was slow, and steady. His body was hard, defined and hungry as her stomach burned for the sharpness of two wanton bodies in mid-collision. Felicity’s coarse voice echoed through the empty room, “I’ll be a riot once I’m sated so if you don’t mind…”

He took the hint but before she felt empty he whispered softly with indescribable love, “I don’t work without you…”

She pressed her lips to his temple then replied in kind, “Nor do I…”

She felt every inch of him as he slowly pulled out, her body tensed along his own; she felt the corded muscles of his forearms flexed to support her waist once she managed to lock her knees around his waist. She shuddered as her body hiccupped once only his wetted tip remained. He sucked roughly at the tender skin along her collarbone as she managed to drag her fingers down to his shoulders. She felt the low grin of a satisfied man appearing over her flesh just before her body burned and screamed from his punishing assault. He rammed forward until she felt the wall behind her crack. Her spine tingled, her bones ached and her core burned as Oliver’s promise became more than naughty words. He fell silent as he honed his focus. She quivered with each stride, she screamed like those pathetic women she’d heard about from porno’s as her cries of “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” began to cascade freely from her unoccupied mouth.

His fingers tightened when he too began to chant, “Come for me baby, give it up Felicity, come on fucking come…” along her heated skin.

He sent her back into the wall over and over again, his speed was impressive, his mouth was dirty and his body was dripping with their mixed sweat once she began to meet his thrusts half way. Each time he pumped inward she moved along him sharply. Her body tingled as her inner walls hugged his cock. He felt long, strong, and almost dangerous as his tip penetrated her over and over and over again…She cried loudly as her head fell forward along his shoulder, “Don’t stop…come on baby, make me come…”

He growled “So fucking beautiful,” darkly as his lips trailed along her cheek.

She whimpered, “Come on Oliver, make me complete…”

He pushed harder; her body began to shatter as she accepted him gratefully. Her fingers felt raw, her knees ached and skin was covered with their sweet, sticky, mixed sweat as another line began to roll leisurely down the spine of her back. His anchored hands began to grind over her skin, his touch now mimicked the movement of his hips as he thrusted harder, and deeper. His lips were at the corner of her mouth, her fingers were clawing at his skin, his knees now supported both their weights as she let out an all consuming, “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK…YES, YES, YES, ALMOST THERE…”

He drove harder, as he moaned along her lips, “You’re mine…”

She felt his tongue slipping over hers when she muttered, “I always was…”

She felt her spine break, her skin was on fire, and her body was in the midst of an all out sensory black out when she finally screamed, “YES, YES, YES….”

His croaked, “Fuck,” raced down her throat until it reached her hollow belly.

He consumed her final, “Fuck yes, “with a rough kiss. Her body rolled over and over and over again as her orgasm shattered her body into millions of indiscernible pieces. She felt his body quake and weaken when he filled her inner core. She could almost taste his release as it swam warmly through the darkest places of her quenched soul. She dug her fingers along his shoulders then breathed as their lips finally parted, “Wow…”

Her forehead fell along his as he pushed her further into the wall. She felt him lean inward with weary bones before his muttered, “Fucking perfect…” cascaded across her lips.

She laughed with no breathes left in her now feeble lungs, “I think we made up for a few months on that one…”

He kissed her chastely, “How could you ever think I’d be any less aroused by you?”

She brushed her fingers along his sweaty skin, she could feel his fingers massaging her rounded ass when she finally muttered, “Every time I look in the mirror I can see the changes. My hips are wider, my stomach isn’t yet flat and breast feeding doesn’t do wonders for your tits…”

He kissed her almost feverishly as his erection finally began to soften, “You’re softer yes but you’re body is still so strong, it’s remarkable Felicity, you brought a life into the world honey, you’re a fucking miracle, you give us our miracle,” he insisted as she let his endearments race through her heated blood.

His lips were still hovering over her own when she mused, “You don’t mind the sagging breasts?”

He laughed darkly, “Once we’re in bed I’ll show you again what the sight of your naked body does to me…”

She involuntarily quivered but asked none the less, “Can you take me again?”

She felt his stare when he whispered against her parted mouth, “Oh can I…”

The wall along her back suddenly vanished, his legs felt strong and sure as he moved them backward, his lips were on hers when he placed her coiled body on their shared bed. His kisses began to sear her soul as his body moved slowly above her, her mind raced, her fingers clenched, and her body tensed as Oliver made good on his promise…

Her hair was splayed around her pillow, his fingers were tangled in her hair, her arms were around his shoulders, their blankets were tossed around their waists, her toes were sliding along his calves, and their lips were tangled as they traded long, rough and, punishing kisses. His pectorals burned her nipples as their hips moved in their own circular rhythms, he was solid within her once again, her inner walls were screaming for their release as he slowly consumed her…

Felicity ended the kiss to pull the remaining air around their coiled bodies into her empty lungs. She gasped, “I thought this was just going to be a heavy make out thing…”

His forehead fell over her own as her eyes slid shut for the fourth time that night, she bit along her bottom lip and, held back another soul shattering scream as her release coated his skin. His whispered words brushed her cheeks gently, “I told you we’d end fucking again…”

She laughed once her heart found a less erotic beat, “Why do we also use that vulgar term? I mean we’re making love aren’t we?” she thought aloud as Oliver’s fingers began tracing along her brow.

She felt him settle within her as he flooded her body once more, she silently wondered if he was going for child number two when he replied breathlessly, “We’re always making love but I think it’s easier to call it fucking, it’s sounds more erotic I guess when we remove the love component.”

Her brow furrowed, “Maybe it’s our way of keeping the flame alive…”

Her theory made his lips curve, “How so?” he asked softly as he parted from her once more. She felt him settle between her thighs while she rested her bent knees near his hips. His elbows were by her arms; his fingers were dancing over her collarbone as she trailed her own down his sweaty back.

“I think sex for us is just so layered. I mean clearly we’re drawn to each other…” she began while Oliver kissed her softly.

He murmured into another deep kiss, “Clearly since we’ve had sex four times in the span of a few hours…”

Felicity dipped her tongue past his parted lips as she mumbled, “Yeah are you trying for another baby?”

He ended the kiss slowly then replied, “So what if I am?”

Her brows raised, “Don’t you want more than a year between them? Hell don’t you want your hot wife back?”

He gazed at her longingly, “No and she’s lying beneath me, what else you got?”

Felicity croaked, “You’re serious aren’t you?”

He nodded as their noses brushed, “I want another child and that would be another layer to your sex theory wouldn’t it?”

She nodded then slowly brushed his lips, “It would yes but sweetie another child is a trigger for me,” she swallowed painfully then admitted, “Sydney was a complication free pregnancy what if we try again and something goes wrong?”

Oliver put some space between their faces while their bodies remained entwined, “Then we’ll deal with it but, Felicity I know you, I know how your mind works and frankly if I want another child I better knock you up before you have the chance to change it…”

She rolled her blue eyes and snickered, “So the whole let’s just fuck endlessly to reconnect was really let’s fuck until I’m knocked up huh?”

He gently shrugged which made her smile even brighter, “If you didn’t want to risk another pregnancy you would have taken precautions.”

Felicity huffed knowing he was right, “You sound like Mom.”

He chuckled, “Well this is how I became a father…well that and some amazing shower sex but that’s not the point,” he added with glimmering eyes.

She trailed her fingers down his skin, “Yeah but with Sydney we completely disconnected. We barely touched for a year and that’s not good for either of us…” she lightly noted with a tinge of regret. “I can’t go through another year like that, I honestly can’t go without sex for that long…” she grunted in shame.

Oliver coughed in shock then muttered, “Oh trust me that won’t happen again…”

She eyed him then chose another angle, “We’ll be pushing off our wedding again…”

“Not if we get married next week before Mom and Dad leave for Italy,” he mentioned almost too quickly.

Felicity groaned, “She’s bringing our daughter back in some horrible mini flower girl’s dress isn’t she?”

His eyes rose almost to his hairline. Felicity pinched his skin making him mutter, “Oh please you’re my wife already it just has to be legal…”

Felicity remained silent but only to think of her next words. She saw his blues eyes grow warmer as he pushed her hair behind her ears. She smiled despite herself then lowly surrendered. “Fine we’ll get married next week but, still I’m not sure how I feel about you tricking me into having another baby…”

He brushed his thumbs down her cheeks until they were over her lips, “Seriously though?” he started honestly, “I wasn’t trying for another child, I’d never do that without you being on board but I can’t say I’d be unhappy if we did indeed conceive our second child tonight; and secondly good because Mom’s already booked the minster for Saturday at the house.”

“I know,” she admitted easily as she kissed the pads of his thumbs.

His eyes jumped, “You know what?”

She laughed at the oversight in her response. Her lips curved as she sputtered, “I know you’d never trick me into having another child. I know this was truly about us reconnecting and no I didn’t know about the wedding…”

He chuckled, “We can call it off if you want to wait.”

She kissed his thumbs again, “Yeah,” she exhaled, “I could but you’re my husband in my heart so it’s about time we had it writing to.”

He asked slyly, “Wanna finish your sex theory?”

She winked, “Why you think it will lead to another round?”

“I’m hoping,” he admitted eagerly.

She couldn’t help but giggle a quick, “I love you,” before she began again with “sex means babies, and fucking means passion, and fire, and all the other emotions that come with the need to feel someone moving within you.” She took a sated breath, “I’m just wondering if the word fuck is just another wall I’m leaving up for reassurances.”

Oliver’s voice softened in empathy, “Whether you call it sex, fucking, or making love Felicity, whenever we come together like this we’re becoming one you know that right? The term doesn’t matter because each time I’m with you they all apply.”

She sighed in limited acceptance, “Yeah but still don’t you feel it’s cheapening the bond we share? I mean we’re basically husband and wife, we have a daughter, we’re committed to each other and I’m probably pregnant right now so don’t you feel that the word just doesn’t apply?”

His smile made her body melt beneath him, “If the word was a barrier you wouldn’t have said I was your husband, you wouldn’t sound nearly so calm about being pregnant again and, you wouldn’t be lying here you’d be down the street and around the corner. Felicity it’s just a word, it’s an erotic word that turns us both on that’s it,” he stated easily.

She let his words once again roll over her body like a tidal wave. She let herself find solace in the fact that she was his wife, she was a mother and she was alive. She let herself take stock of their entire story before replying with hope, “You’re right,” she gulped. “You’re right because we have it all. We have passion, anger, longing, desire, ownership, lust, erotic urges, and most importantly love. We have love,” she repeated, “We’re in love and that’s the one wall that will never fall,” she smiled when he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. She whispered as his tongue began to part her lips, “I’m completely in love with you.”

His words became lost but she still heard his faint if not raspy, “I’m so in love with you…” as the endearment slid down her throat.

She moved her fingers up his cheeks as the kiss deepened, she moaned darkly, “Fuck me again…” as his body began to react.

He parted them briefly to ask, “Are you sure? You might actually end up pregnant before dawn.”

She pulled his lips to hers then kissed him roughly before she rasped against his parted, panting mouth, “Then fuck me and get the job done…”

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#arrow #arrow fic #olicity #olicity fic #au #college besties #best friends #childhood #oliver and felicity #smut #soulmates #writers block

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