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#thank you thank you for letting me talk about them i love them <3 <3
moonstruckme · 3 days
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I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)
Thank you gorgeous, love you <3
cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 
And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 
Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 
“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 
You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 
“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 
You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.
You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 
Your breath stills in your lungs. 
You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 
“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 
You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak. 
“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 
“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 
Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”
It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 
“Everything alright?” he asks. 
You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten. 
“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 
“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 
To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 
“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 
“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 
You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”
“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 
“I’m fine,” you say again. 
“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 
You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 
“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.” 
“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 
“Please,” you squeak out. 
He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.
“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 
“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.” 
You shake your head. “You don’t.” 
A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 
“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 
He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 
You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 
Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 
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jordyn14 · 2 days
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can you please write jealousy joe??? I would love to see that 😁😁
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Pairing: Joe x fem first person
Words: 2,020
Notes: I’m loving these requests, please keep sending them in! I hope you enjoy!! <3
Taglist: @wickedfun9
I reached forwards and grabbed the alcoholic drink I’ve been sipping on periodically while laughing and having a great time with some friends. Like every night after the Bengals first win of the season, Joe, my best friend and her husband, and me all go to our favorite bar in Cincinnati to celebrate the win, and today wasn’t any different.
The bengals first game of the season which was a home game was pretty much a shutout. Joe threw for over 400 yards and threw for 4 touchdowns, 3 of which were to ja’marr chase. It was everything we could’ve hoped for the first game of the season, so in celebration, we all came to this bar in the quieter part of Cincinnati.
We all sat at a small table in the back together while Joes hand rested on my thigh, squeezing and trailing his hand up and down it periodically, which sent shivers down my spine. As I sipped my drink, I got to the very end of it and then set it down on the table. “Alright, I’m going for another drink run. Anyone need anything else?” I asked the 3 other people at the table who were still laughing at something Joe said a few seconds ago.
From next to me, Joe patted my thigh. I looked over to him with a flustered smile on my face, the alcohol somewhat taking an effect. Damn, I was a lightweight. “I’m good, baby, but thank you.” Joe said and leaned over to me and placed a kiss on my cheek. My face flushed red and I looked over to my best friend, Serena, and her husband jonny. I let out a little giggle as Joe slid his hand up my skirt jokingly, knowing how it affected me. Once I contained myself, I cleared my throat and waited until they both said they could use another drink before I walked away.
As I walked away, I could feel Joe’s stare on me the entire time. Ever since we first met at LSU when he transferred, I was totally taken aback by him. The first thing that drew me in were his looks. Those locks that fell onto his forehead and those bright blue eyes. His body wasn’t bad either. What made me stay was his personality. Before I met Joe, I didn’t know a man could be so amazing, inside and out. I mean we’re talking about a nerdy, Lego and SpongeBob loving, funny, kind, thoughtful man. What more could a girl ask for?
When I got to the bar, I found a place to squeeze myself in and placed myself between two people. After a few seconds, the bartender walked over to me so I put in all of our drink orders and started to sing along to the music quietly, wanting the time to pass quicker. “Oh my gosh…is that really you?” A familiar voice asked from next to me. I raised an eyebrow and looked over to the man before my mouth practically dropped open. “Luke? What the hell are you doing here?” I asked in a shocked tone and instantly wrapped my arms around him. The both of us just laughed, shocked to see one another.
Back at LSU, Luke and I used to hang out pretty frequently. It was never anything more than two friends getting together, getting high, or getting drunk-even studying in some rare cases. Our little friend group consisted of me, Luke, anna who was Luke’s girlfriend, and Serena, my best friend. But, since Luke was 2 years older than me, by the time Joe came along Luke had graduated, which means I never got to introduce Joe to him and the friend group kind of broke up and became Serena, me, Joe, Ja’marr chase, and Justin Jefferson.
“Since Anna grew up here, we decided to move back. What are you doing here?” He asked me as we pulled away. “I followed my boyfriend here after college. When I get my drinks you’ll have to come meet him, he transferred right after you left.” I told him. After hesitating for a few seconds, he nodded and flashed me a smile. “Yeah, I definitely will have to meet him. So how have you been? How’s your writing going?” He asked me. “I’m good, writings been good too. I actually published my second book a few weeks ago. What about you? How has your business major been going?” I asked him with laugh, knowing back in college he had no idea what to do with it. “I actually didn’t do anything with it. I’m a police officer how. I love that I found out what I was passionate about after I spent thousands of dollars on college.” He laughed. I laughed and grabbed the drinks the bartender set down in front of me as was about to invite Luke over to our table so Joe could meet him.
All of a sudden, I felt a hand slide around my waist and looked to the side to see Joe practically hovering over me and Luke, who was shorter than me. I couldn’t help but notice the angry expression on Joe’s face and how he was clenching his jaw. I was about to open my mouth to introduce them but Joe spoke right over me. “Hey, I’m Joe, Her boyfriend. And you are?” Joe said abruptly, giving Luke a fake smile in the process. I looked up to Joe with a glare on my face at his rudeness and was about to say something yet again when Luke talked first. “Hey, Luke. It’s good to meet you, man.” Luke said and held out his hand for Joe to shake it.
Joe just glared down at his hand and then looked right back up at his face, not shaking his hand. “Excuse us, Luke. It was great seeing you again.” I said. I flashed Luke a smile before grabbing onto Joe’s arm and tried to pull him with me, but he wouldn’t budge. Why did he have to be so strong? I could feel his arm muscles as I gripped onto his bicep before I said, “Joe?” In a somewhat pissed off tone. I saw Joe look Luke up and down before grabbing two drinks in his hand while I grabbed the other one and started walking with me.
I scoffed a little bit and stopped walking before we got to the table so Serena and Jonny couldn’t hear us. I turned to face Joe as we both set our drinks on the nearest table. Joe was just looking down at me with a pissed look on his face. “What the hell was that, Joe?” I asked him. Joe looked like I was the stupid one before he gestured over to Luke and said, “What the hell was that?” I looked at him like I was missing something. What was his fucking deal? “Me catching up with a friend from LSU and you being a fucking dick before I was able to introduce the two of you, that’s what it’s called, Joe.” I said.
Joe just looked me up and down while biting his lip slightly and said, “I don’t care what it’s called. I don’t like the way he was looking at you. I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.” I let out a small laugh and shook my head, taken aback. “What, do you not trust me now or something? When have I ever given you a reason to not trust me.” I practically spat at him, getting even more annoyed as we talked. Never in our time as a couple have I ever been unfaithful. “It’s him that I don’t trust. If you haven’t noticed, you’re the most gorgeous girl in this entire bar.” Joe said.
What reason would he have for not trusting Luke? Could he not see by the way I reacted that we were only friends who haven’t seen each other in a while? And anyways, he overreacted before he even got the whole story. I couldn’t help but laugh at him a little bit. “He has a fucking girlfriend, Joe. Why are you so jealous?” I asked him. “It doesn’t matter that he has a fucking girlfriend,” Joe said quickly and looked over at Luke before he looked even more pissed and gestured angrily over to him, “I mean look at the way he’s staring at your fucking ass right now.”
Without even looking at Luke, I scoffed while shaking my head at him and said, “you’re unreal.” Joe squinted down at me. “So now I’m not allowed to be pissed when a random man is drooling all over you?” He asked me. I put my hands on the top of my head for a few seconds before letting them slide off, shocked at how he was acting. “You are blowing this way out of proportion, Joseph. We were friends back at LSU.” I said. “Why, because I don’t want a man who used to be your friend flirting with my girlfriend and staring at her ass? You’re mine.” Joe said.
“Exactly, I’m yours. I’m yours and you are mine, so who the fuck cares that someone I was friends with a few years ago was flirting with me?” I asked him. Joe looked over in the direction of our table and grabbed my arm gently and moved us a few feet away. While he was moving me, I looked back at the table to see Serena and Jonny staring at us, knowing something was going on.
When we stopped, Joe looked right into my eyes. For the first time during this entire conversation, my face flushed red and I could feel myself getting turned on slightly. Why was this so hot right now? “I do. I care. I am the only one that should be flirting and looking at you like that.” Joe said. I tried my hardest to hide my smile because despite how much I was annoyed with him and his jealousy, he was really fucking hot.
After a few seconds, I couldn’t hide it any more and smiled up at him. Joe glared at me in confusion while butterflies flew around in my stomach. “You’re honestly pretty freaking hot when you’re jealous.” I said, my face heating up a little bit from the dirty thoughts in my head as I admired Joe and his pissed off state. Joe started to smirk a little bit but when he realize what he was doing, he cleared his throat and the smirk was gone just like that. “It’s not funny. Do you know how much I wanted to smash his fucking face into that bar?” Joe asked me. With a little glare, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge. So, I tried to go closer to him, but all he did was back up.
I stopped moving and then stuck out my bottom lip jokingly, knowing one of his weaknesses was when I looked sad. With an annoyed look on his face, he wrapped his arms around my waist, hating the effect I had on him. We both pulled each other in closer so I leaned forwards and kissed Joe’s lips. Not expecting it at first, Joe pulled back slightly and gazed into my eyes before smashing his lips against mine. Joe breathed in the kiss as I arched my back. Joe kissed me back hard and right before we pulled away, Joe bit my bottom lip gently. “Was he watching that?” I breathed out with a smile. Joe looked up at the bar past my head and then nodded with a small smile. “Good.” I said and turned around to look in the direction of the bar with our arms still around each other. My eyes caught Luke’s who immediately looked away with an embarrassed, awkward, and nervous look on his face. I looked away and to Joe while running my fingers through his hair. “Let him be the jealous one, I’m not going anywhere Joey. Ever.” I said.
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wardenparker · 11 hours
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 11
Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 14.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Marcus Pike the Breeding Kink King, a dash of dirty talk, the tiniest whiff of roleplay, sexual activity in a public place, cum eating. False accusations of cheating, gossip rags being gossipy, descriptions of getting a tattoo (needle mention). Summary: The end of your trip to Texas comes with a few surprises, and a meeting with your mother goes far better than expected. But good things do not guarantee paradise forever. Notes: Hi my lovelies! I do apologize for the spotty posting timeline lately. My health has been inconsistent to say the very least and continues to be unpredictable. Thank you for bearing with me and always being so incredibly supportive. I'm certain that I missed fixing some errors in this chapter, but I blame the migraine I've have for the last 10 days. Enjoy this week's chapter!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10
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The last night you and Marcus are in Texas comes after an afternoon-long barbecue that somehow manages to outdo every barbecue of every previous day. You're pretty sure that you've been nibbling constantly since sunrise but rather than being overwhelmed, you're just sorry that you're going to have to leave tomorrow and not see most of these people again for a long time.
The water in Marcus's hand is for you and he comes over to drop a kiss on your lips as he presses it into your hand. "Band is starting at seven." He tells you. "Do you want to shower beforehand?"
"Probably should." There's mischievousness in your agreement, though, and you tuck a smirk in the corner of your mouth as you take the water from him. "I saved my cutest top for tonight. To be the very best groupie I can be."
"Oh really?" He chuckles at how eager you have been to meet his old bandmates. "I like groupies." He smirks, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you close. "Really like them."
"Do you want to show me how much?" You ask, letting that smirk loose but keeping your voice very quiet even when you bat your eyelashes at him.
"I can do that while we shower." He groans wickedly, winking at you. "Unless you want to save that for after the show?"
"No need to save," you assure him easily, drinking down half of the glass of cold water he brought you and letting your grin grow wider. "There will be hours in between. We can do both."
"Insatiable." He grins back and you, wrinkling his nose slightly and proud about that fact. "I love it."
"C'mon." Grabbing his hand, you head for the house with a bitten back grin. Back inside and upstairs to his room – now appropriately defiled by the fact that you're in that Early Relationship Honeymoon Period and horny as hell – to add his childhood bathroom to the list of places you've fucked on this property.
Marcus smirks when there’s a number of suggestive whistles that ring out. Everyone here aware of how eager the two of you are and he gives a halfhearted wave before disappearing. You might be embarrassed if you cared at all, but his cousins have been nothing but welcoming and accepting. They all seem to share the opinion that Marcus has waited too long to meet his match and you are more than happy to be the one that they have welcomed as their cousin – or nephew or son's – perfect match.
“I love them all, but I need to get you alone.” Marcus huffs as he practically races over to the stairs.
"Alone, naked, and wet, I hope." You're on the stairs just ahead of him, the advantage of one or two steps meaning your ass is right in his face as you hustle up to the second floor.
"How wet you are depends on how good of a job I do turning you on." He can't help himself, reaching out and slapping your ass, something you love if your delighted giggle is anything to go by. "How wet are you?"
“Wet enough that if you even touch me over my clothes, I’m going to moan,” you admit, glancing back at him when you reach the top of the stairs.
"Promises, promises." Marcus reaches out and cups your pussy from behind, jumping up the last two steps to press close to you. "Fuck, I love you." He growls into your ear as he rubs your clit.
“Oh fuck—” Maybe it’s more of a whine than a groan but the arousal in your voice is unmistakable. Pressed between Marcus and the wall, your hips rock to get as much pressure and friction from his hand as absolutely possible. “I—I love you too, baby. Fuck.”
"Shower." He orders softly, pulling away from you reluctantly. He knows he can't fuck you in the hallway and his cock is already pressing against his shorts.
Since the discovery of your interest in a more submissive role sexually, you and Marcus have been enjoying playing with the dynamic. Soft orders for things that he knows will bring you both pleasure. Seeing how well you follow his instructions while he’s inside of you in any way. Right now you move with long strides to get to the shower as quickly as possible, already shedding your clothes along the way.
Smirking as he watches the rushed strip show, Marcus pulls his own shirt over his head. He's never had someone so enthusiastic for his touch and it's honestly its own kind of high. Plenty of women wanted him, but not with the hunger that you constantly display. He can only hope that it never changes. "So sexy." He huffs, unbuttoning his shorts to step out of them as he follows you.
“Oh yeah?” As soon as the water is on, you glance back over your shoulder and throw him the most tantalizing glance you can possibly summon. “Come and show me how much.”
“Fuck.” He hisses and immediately rushes forward to crowd into the shower with you, pressing kisses to your back as he folds in closer to you.
Marcus might be testing the waters with how dominant he’s comfortable being, but he still likes it when you show him how much you want him. When you hum at the feeling of his hands on your skin or moan deep in your throat at the perfect kiss. He even loves moments like these, when you whimper at the way his large hands spread over your body to hold you as close to him as you can possibly be without him being inside you.
“Love you.” He whispers into your skin, not wanting you to forget it in the two seconds since he has said it last.
“I love you, too.” Pressed into that little space together, you twist your head around to kiss him and then lean forward against the wall. There aren’t too many comfortable ways to fuck standing up under falling water, but having him press into you from behind is good no matter where you are.
His hands slide over your body and one sinks between your thighs. Immediately parting enough for his hands with a quickness than has him smiling. “You like when I finger you?” He teases. “Rub your sensitive little clit for you?”
“I like every way you touch me.” Your hips roll as if to prove it, searching for the right angle to get his thick fingers to sink inside of you.
“Greedy.” He chuckles softly. “That’s what you are.” He doesn’t pull his hand away, giving you what you want as two fingers slip inside you. “My greedy girl.”
“Can’t blame me for getting addicted.” You moan, forehead pressed against the tile, when his fingers scissor open inside you. “You feel so fucking good baby.”
“You feel better.” He groans quickly, working you open as the hot water rushes over you.
“Made just for you, baby.” If there was ever anyone you could truly feel that about, it’s Marcus. The way he seems to make you feel complete in ways you didn’t know you needed or even wanted is uncanny and beautiful. And the way he fills you to bursting is just as fantastic.
Marcus worships you with small kisses as his fingers move inside you, groaning in your ear about how good you feel. The thick length of him pressed against your ass. “Marcus—” His name is a whine and a prayer with every long stroke of his fingers. “Please, baby. Please fuck me.”
“I’m going to.” He promises, grinding against your ass as he continues to finger you. “Too bad you still have your birth control.” He moans in your ear. “Dreamed about you pregnant last night. Nice and round with my baby.”
“Fuck.” If anyone had suggested pregnancy or breeding or any of those fertility-related kinks to you before Marcus, you might have laughed them out of your bedroom. But in a few short weeks, you’ve got from wanting children but not looking forward to being pregnant — all the way to getting wet at the thought of starting to swell with Marcus’s baby. The impulse to promise you’ll stop taking it tomorrow is right on the tip of your tongue but you know it’s just a touch too soon. “Yeah?” You breathe instead. “You woke up hard to the thought of fucking me full of your baby?”
“Why do you think I was ravenous this morning?” He asks, chuckling at how he had woken you up. He had been a little embarrassed by the dream, so he hadn’t mentioned it at the time, but realized later that it was dumb to keep it from you. “When you’re ready, I’m going to be feral.”
“We need to start building that house now.” You insist, suddenly possessed of a whole new set of reasons to be eager for more privacy.
He chuckles as he nibbles on your shoulder, moving to the hollow of your neck. “Yeah? You want to paint a nursery right away baby?”
“We’re gonna have to if you keep growling about getting me pregnant.” Something which you apparently find far sexier than you anticipated, if the way your cunt throbs and pulses around his fingers is any indication.
"You love the idea." He challenges softly, humming against your pulse. "It's not my fault you're so perfect I can see the future we have in store."
“I love the idea so much I’m ready to say let’s just buy a house.” The throaty laugh you let out burns into a long moan when he curls his fingers inside you. “Need you, baby.”
"Never want you to say that I don't give you what you want." He pushes your feet apart, careful not to let you slip on the slick tile and pulls his fingers out of you to immediately replace them with his cock. A smooth transition planned to keep you from missing the fullness.
There is more freedom here, at least where volume is concerned, and when your moan bounces off the tile it is music to Marcus's ears. The utterly satisfying fullness of having him inside you is indescribable, even if you have tried to find the words several times talking to Syd. Sharp, powerful strokes will work you both up to your peak quickly, letting you enjoy the water that burns as hot as your skin as he pounds into you.
Marcus has learned that going harder is needed sometimes. It’s something that both of you enjoy and lose yourselves in, always making sure that you are still with him with filthy sweet praises in your ear. “My perfect princess.” He groans. “Taking me so well.”
It’s so much filthier coming from such a sweet, unassuming man like Marcus, and he presses you into the wall with a firmness that leaves absolutely no room for questioning. You are his. He is yours. And anything you moan to each other in the throes of passion is fair game. Filth, praise, and everything in between is welcome as your hips slap against your ass and your throat strangled around the endless cries of pleasure.
It’s never been this good. It’s cliched to even think it, but it’s true. He can barely even breathe when you are surrounding him. Drowning in you happily. “Fuck, I love you.” He promises. His hands squeeze and caress before sinking back between your thighs to rub your clit while he continues to fuck you at a frantic pace.
“Love you so — fuck! — so fucking much.” You practically claw at the wall of the shower when the calloused pads of his fingers find your swollen clit and press in on tight circles. Perfect little circles. “So close baby, so fucking close.”
“That’s it.” He groans. “Want you to cum. Want you to soak me. Need it.” He dips his hips lower and changes the angle that he shreds up inside you.
“Fuck—fuck—can’t wait until you’re fucking me full of your babies, oh god—” He’s already an expert at tearing you apart and putting you back together, and this time will be no exception. Your legs shake with it and your belly tightens, coiling at the base of your spine tightening as pleasure rips through you.
“That’s it, fuck, so good, Princess.” He hisses in pleasure. “Cum for me. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. I love it.” It only takes two or three more sharp snaps of his hips before you’re calling his name, sure that if anyone else is in the house right now they can definitely hear you but too overcome with pleasure and too full of him to care.
When you cum, it’s like your entire soul melt with his. Your heartbeats align and for a split second, Marcus can’t tell where you end and he begins. Perfectly fused together in ecstasy. As soon as you tighten around him, his thrusts ease, still moving but helping you float down from the precipice. “Good girl, fuck baby, you are so good to me.” He pants in your ear. “So good. Giving me everything, aren’t you? Yeah, you are, I can feel it.”
“Fill me up, baby.” Your legs may be rubber at this point but that sensation of his cum painting your inner walls is worth holding out for. It has you rocking your hips back even more than you need to ride the aftershocks of your own orgasm, hoping to bring him to his.
He loves when you say that. Groaning your name as his pace picks back up. The slap of his hips not quite as sharp, but insistent. “Gonna, fuck baby, gonna fill you up.” He moans in your ear. “Drip me all night.”
From the way his hips start to stutter you know he’s close, and you grind back against him with a low moan. “Gonna be dripping your cum while I meet all your friends.”
“Just the way I want you.” He groans, kissing your shoulder and moaning as he pushes deep, throbbing inside you as he fills you up.
There’s nothing but the sound of running water and panting breath for a minute or two as you both collect yourselves, arms wrapped around each other in the best way you can manage while he’s still inside you and you’re leaning on the shower wall. “I love you so fucking much.” You murmur, giggling softly at the giddy feeling still coursing through your veins.
“I love you too.” He whispers, smiling against your shoulder as the soft aftershocks continue to squeeze him as he softens inside you. “Addicted to everything about you.”
“Glad we agree about that.” It isn’t elegant but you twist around and manage to place a kiss on his jaw. “So…breeding kink, huh?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly as he slowly pulls out of you. “Sorry. I know that took you by surprise.”
“Not in a bad way.” You promise him, fully turning around now, to put your arms around him before you both have to clean up. “Surprising but…potentially shared?”
“When it actually happens is still one hundred percent up to you.” He assures you, wanting you to know he would never pressure you, no matter how much he dreams about the future. “But shared, huh?”
“Surprise,” you tease, reaching for a washcloth.
“Every day is an adventure with you.” He chuckles and steals another kiss before he turns his attention to getting ready for tonight.
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You’re right on time despite taking an overlong shower, arriving at the club in downtown Dallas in time to see a group of his old friends gathered at the bar.
“Hey.” A carefree grin lights up his face, reunited with old friends and their spouses. The band is about to leave to get on stage so it’s quick backslaps and promises to catch up later after he introduces you proudly. They disappear and it seems like all the other crowd around you to all talk about Marcus.
It’s much the same as it was with his cousins. Quick questions about you — or the occasional “That’s why I recognize you!” — but mostly wanting to tell stories about young Marcus in the olden days, teasing their old friend and gauging your reaction to their stories to decide if you’re good enough for him. You don’t mind of course. Your friends would have done the same if they hadn’t already met Marcus before you got together.
“Hey now.” Marcus pouts and protests but it’s all in good fun. He’s enjoying the stories; taking him back down memory lane. He hugs you tighter to him as he laughs at a college age story, where he had imbibed a little too much and made a fool of himself.
“Everyone got drunk and dumb in college at least once, didn’t they?” You hug his side and grin at him while his friends tease and chatter. “And I’m sure you weren’t the only college student in the world to skateboard across campus in boxers and a cowboy hat. I’m just impressed you didn’t fall off the board more if you were drunk.”
“Hammered.” He confirms with a laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know if I would have felt anything that night.”
“All the better that you didn’t get hurt then,” you laugh with him, enjoying these glimpses into the Marcus of the past. “Though I think we should recreate the look. For posterity.”
“Bachelor party.” He grins, leaning in and kissing you on the nose. “One of those boring co-ed ones where the couple is disgusting and can’t be apart for even one night of debauchery.”
“Cause we’re gross in love.” The smile on your face is blinding, lighting you up from the inside out as you beam at him.
“Yes we are.” He agrees, unable to stop himself from kissing you again, as his friends groan playfully around you both.
“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus’s old college roommate huffs good naturedly and rolls his eyes. This is the guy Marcus had lived with before he moved off campus to live with Lara and he’s always known Marcus Pike to be exceptionally lucky in love. “Lucky bastard.”
“I am.” He agrees with a small nod. “I’m honestly surprised that you aren’t already engaged.” One of his closest college study partners snickers as she shoots you a grin. “He always was rushing into things headfirst.”
“Don’t think he didn’t give me a ring right away,” you joke, holding up the shimmering promise ring on your hand. “But we want to keep our heads on straight, so it’s a promise for now and an engagement a little bit into the future.”
“There’s the Marcus we know and love.” She giggles, taking your hand and admiring the ring. “Honey, it’s gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it?” The little heart-shaped diamonds wink and shine in the dim lighting of the club and you can’t help but smile proudly. “I told him he set a dangerous precedent with this one. If the promise ring is this beautiful then the engagement ring has to be, too.”
“Knowing Marcus, it’s perfectly designed to set with your promise ring.” She guesses, grinning wildly when he shuffles guiltily. “I knew it!” She throws her arm around his shoulder and smacks a playful kiss on his cheek. “Atta boy!”
“You did not buy it already!” You gasp in shock, giggling with unrestrained joy at the embarrassment and glee on his face.
“It’s safe.” He promises, shrugging slightly. “I didn’t want to risk them not having the perfect mate when I came back.”
“You’re incorrigibly sweet.” The idea that he’d gone so out of his way makes you melt on the spot, with warmth in your cheeks and a fluttering extra beat of your heart. “And I love you.”
His group of friends cheers when you kiss this time. For all the shit they give him, they are all thrill Marcus has found his sweet soulmate. Right then, the lights dim and everyone turns towards the stage. “Marcus Pike.” His eyes widen when the lead singer says his name. “Report to the stage. There is a bass waiting to be played.”
“Oh fuck yes!” When you squeal with absolute pure excitement you grab his side and practically cackle with glee. Even Agent Bailey is smirking in her plain clothes. “Go, baby! Go!”
“Oh my Gooooood.” Marcus groans as he’s practically shoved towards the stage and he shakes his head, pointing his finger at the band. “I hate you guys.” He moans, even as he shuffles closer, but they just grin.
“Best night ever!” You call back, grinning from ear to ear as you make your way to the front with his friends.
“This is going to be amazing.” Hooking her arm through yours, Stephanie grins at you. “Have you ever heard Marcus sing?”
“No.” And you pout about it for about two seconds before the glint returns to your eyes. “He always demurs and says he’s not that great but I know he’s being humble.”
Marcus shrugs out of his leather jacket and winds the strap of the bass around his neck and back to quickly strum a chord before adjusting the tension to his liking. “I’m going to hurt all of you.” He huffs, even if he’s grinning out at you.
“You fucking love us.” The lead singer, his old friend Leo, reminds him with a shit-eating grin.
Marcus rolls his eyes and huffs, not even able to deny it. “Which songs are we doing?” He asks instead.
“Set list is next to your pedal,” Leo tells him, grin only growing bolder when Marcus doesn’t deny anything. He knows his old friend misses playing. They’ve talked about it. Hence this silly little stunt. “Just like riding a bike, right Pike?”
He snorts and looks out at the crowd, his eyes automatically finding you and he smiles. “Yeah.” He scoffs. “If riding a bike means embarrassing the shit out of yourself in front of your soulmate.”
“It absolutely fucking does, dude.” Leo laughs, slapping Marcus on the back before he steps up to the mic to hype up the already excited crowd.
Marcus winks at you from the stage and looks at the lineup. Most of them are songs that they performed when he was in the band and quite a few that he knows Leo knows he knows. Apparently this wasn’t just a last minute deal. As Leo introduces the band, Marcus starts the bass chords for the first song.
It’s not the night you were planning — swaying to the music with Marcus with a cold beer in your hand while his friends played. This is infinitely better. Marcus is in his element up on that stage, showing off and playing to the crowd and making sure he finds your eyes every so often. Surrounded by friends and an enthusiastic audience, you could see Marcus enjoying many more nights like this. It makes you all the more glad that his friends decided to surprise him.
The crowd is a mix of older and younger people, the songs favorites and he enjoys the energy of the people singing along. Finally finished and sweating, in desperate need of a beer, he grins when you clap and yell.
"You are absolutely incredible." The second he hops down off the stage; you're practically jumping into his arms to give him a kiss. "And I never, ever want to hear anything about your singing voice again. That might be the sexiest singing ever."
He laughs, catching you easily and spinning you around. “Think you might be a little biased, Princess.” He teases, feeling euphoric and like he could do anything tonight.
"So?" The giggle that bubbles out of you is nothing short of adrenaline-infused joy. "I'm still right."
“Shit.” The laughter is infectious and he joins you. “I need a beer.” He admits, squeezing you close.
"Allow me." You insist, and when he makes a face you hold up a hand, still grinning. "Groupie's privilege."
“Groupie, huh?” He chuckles again and slides his hand down to your ass. “You have someone in mind?”
"Yeah," you poke his side and laugh, wiggling the fingers of your other hand in his face. "The one wearing the ring."
“Ring?” He glances at your hand and smirks. “That’s a pretty ring baby, but I could do better.” He flirts. “Dump that guy and run away with me. I’ve gotta sweet van and I know how to treat a lady.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"You think you can do better for me than my soulmate?" Batting your eyelashes back at him and half playing along, you tug Marcus toward the bar to get him his drink. "He's pretty amazing."
“I know I can.” He snorts, grinning at your playful banter. “You’ve never been with a musician baby.”
"Hmmm." An amused hum barely smothers your grin and laughter. "I have heard that bassists are experts with their fingering."
“Then you know.” He nods as you both slide up to the bar and Marcus orders a draft. He turns back to you. “My fingers are magic, baby.” He promises. “I can take you to the stars.”
It's too hard for you not to giggle at that, leaning into his side there at the bar. "I did know that already, though."
He breaks the character he was putting on and winks at you. “I was merely playing my favorite instrument.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Your pussy.”
"Marcus." Your tone is very false in its admonishment, and you're still grinning when you swat at his arm. "You can play her any time you like."
“Now?” He arches a brow in challenge.
You should have known he would jump on it, and you tilt your head at him with a wide-eyed expression. "I mean...not here but..." Glancing around the room proves that there is little cover to be found, and you bite your lip. "Bathroom?"
Marcus smirks and nods to the bartender when he sets his drink down. “Come on.” He takes your hand and drags you away, unable to even drink his beer in his haste to make you cum.
Practically able to feel the heaviness of Agent Bailey's eyes tracking you across the club, you can't bring yourself to care. Not when the promise of his hands on you is so close you can already feel it.
Normally, Marcus would never do this. Not now. But somehow, being with his own friends and playing, seems to have tapped into the wilder side he had exposed when he was younger. Not thinking like an FBI agent at this moment.
The club has two single-occupant bathrooms in a back hallway, and Marcus shoves open the door to the nearest one to tug you inside. "Holy shit." You're giggling again, bubbling over with it. "We're so lucky Agent Bailey trusts you."
“Amazing what a background check and a security clearance will get you.” He jokes as he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He knows he can’t be in here too long with you, it would be rude, but he has to touch you right now. You are just adoring him too much.
It's almost too bad you wore jeans tonight, but you had wanted to keep that feeling of fullness after the shower and truth be told the denim inseam still managed to give you a little stimulation on the way out here tonight. Now Marcus pops the top button open with eager fingers and you whimper softly, biting back the sound so no one in the hall outside hears you.
“Gotta be quiet, Princess.” He coos, smirking at your already lust blown eyes. “Can’t let anyone know you’re fucking a musician in a bathroom, can you?”
You’ve never done anything like this before and he knows that, but with wide eyes and the shivering desire to obey, you nod your head and bite back a needy whine. His hand slides down your panties, finding you slick with new desire and the remnants of his cum covering your lips. He groans your name in your ear and immediately pushes two fingers deep inside you.
It takes effort not to cry out. Not to whimper or moan or keen his name at the sharp, sweet intrusion of two thick fingers deep in your pussy. The vaguely taboo tint of doing something sexual in a public place only makes it better — a surprising feeling that you’ll have to bite for later — and you bury your face in the crook of Marcus’s neck, knowing that it will muffle the little bit of sound that you simply can’t swallow in your own throat. He doesn’t draw it out, doesn’t tease you. Just pumping his fingers deep and twisting his wrist to rub your clit as he tries to see how fast he can make you cum for him.
It’s like being sent up in a rocket, where all you can do is lean back against the sink in the little bathroom and hold on tight. He knows your body, knows how to make you see stars without breaking much of a sweat, and the adrenaline from playing on stage that’s still coursing through him keeps the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you at an almost punishing speed that feels amazing.
It’s like his playing a song with your body. The soft whimper echoing the timing of the beat of his fingers. Kissing along your neck as he pants against your skin. Already throbbing in his pants, but this is for you. “Good girl, baby. You’re so sweet for me.” He groans quietly.
There's not really much you're doing for him right now except keeping quiet and spreading your legs so he can dive inside you, but you'll fix that later. You'll lay him out on his bed and worship him for as long as he will let you. Right now your back arches and you have to let go of your white knuckle hold on the counter in order to tug him closer, pouring the moan that you want to let loose into a kiss instead.
He feels when you let go. Your moan muffled by your tongue as your walls soak his fingers in their pulsing grip. Feeling your heartbeat through the sensitive walls of your pussy. It’s so good and he loves that you are enjoying yourself as the bar music plays loudly.
"Fucking hell..." When you can finally breathe again you look up him with a hazy smile. "I'm gonna give you the best blow job of your life later on," you promise him with a grin.
He smirks as he pulls his wet fingers out of your fluttering cunt and holds them up to the dim light of the bathroom. They are shiny with your slick and he reaches out to your lips. “Open.” He orders.
That was not at all the response you were expecting, but somehow it far sexier because of that, and even though you've just cum you can feel your pussy fluttering at what he wants you to do. It only takes a second before you open your mouth, letting him put his fingers heavily on your tongue before you obediently clean them of any trace of your slick.
Marcus groans quietly, cock twitching in his pants and all he really wants to do is bend you over the sink to fuck you this time, but he can’t. You pop his fingers out of his mouth and he hisses at your innocent look. “Good girl.” His voice is raspy and dripping with lust.
"I feel like I should start calling you something." Leaning up, you steal a kiss and then rebutton your jeans so the two of you can wash up and go back out to his friends. "But I don't know if you wanted to be that kind of dom."
Marcus chuckles as he watches you in the mirror. “So you’re telling me you want a red room in our new house, hm?”
"I'm not gonna be mad about it if you want one," you answer innocently. "I just had the very intense urge to call you...'daddy' a second ago, but I didn't know if you'd like it. That's all."
Marcus has never been in a situation where someone would call him daddy so he has to think about it. “Only one way to find out.” He decides, patting you on the ass as you move out from the sink so he can wash his hands.
"I guess we'll give it a try later then." The air dryer in the bathroom is loud enough to drown out any other conversation, so you finish cleaning up and steal yet another kiss before dragging him back out into the club feeling like you're living on Cloud Nine.
Everyone in the group knows what happened when the two of you disappeared. At least to some degree. They might not believe that it was only an orgasm for you, but the grins are wide and Marcus snorts at the whistling and clapping from the guys. You brush it off with burning hot cheeks and a grin and go to get fresh drinks from the bar. Tonight has been pretty fucking perfect in every way you can think of. The best possible way to say goodbye for now to Texas, although you know you'll be back as often as you can be.
Marcus accepts this beer quickly, feeling parched and he winks at you before he takes a sip. “I think she might want me to find a band in D.C.” he teases.
"Oh, ya think?" Stephanie snorts, leaning into Leo's side when he comes over to join you at a high-top table.
"Actually..." Leo smirks, looking down at his soulmate before he glances up and around the group. "The guys know this already but...there was a big reason we were glad Pike showed up tonight." He tips his beer toward Marcus in salute. "Tonight was the last Dallas show we might ever play."
“Really?” Marcus frowns instantly, looking around to the group. “You guys are gonna stop playing?”
"We're moving in about a month." Leo announces. His arm winds around Stephanie proudly and he squeezes her tight to his side. "Steph got an amazing job at George Washington Hospital. So we're actually moving to DC."
“What?” Marcus sputters and starts beaming. “That’s great!”
"I'm really excited," she admits, smiling even bigger and brighter than Marcus is. "So maybe you won't have to find a new band after all."
“Well, we’d still have to find other members.” He look at the guys. “Until you come out to visit.”
"Maybe we'll all move East." Their drummer, Clark, jokes. He takes a sip of his whiskey and leans on the table. "Y'all know anyone that needs an electrician or a carpenter? I could be persuaded."
“We’re gonna be building a house.” Marcus snorts. “You’re hired.” He’s joking, because he would never make that decision without you, but it’s interesting to think about. Clark is the best damn carpenter he knows.
"Actually..." Tilting your head to look at Marcus beside you, you shrug your shoulders a little and have a sip of your drink. "There's some work that needs to get done at the inn, too. I've been putting it off because my electrician retired last year and finding a new guy is a pain."
His brows lift in surprise and Clark smirks. “Really, tell me about it.” He encourages.
"It's a historical property," you clarify right away, knowing that that scares some people off. Which is fine with you, really. If they aren't comfortable working on historical structures, you're not going to work with them anyway. "Of course things have been updated, but the structure is colonial so it does require a little bit of tender loving care."
“That’s awesome.” Clark snorts. “I love historic structures. Have you rewired the entire building or are you having to replace as you uncover issues?” He asks. “Code has changed so much since knob and tube. And that’s recent in a historic home, depending on how historic.”
"I've only owned the property for a few years, so we're having to play catch up from the previous owner." His enthusiasm is met with plenty of your own, and you look back at Marcus with a wide grin. "You just watch how fast I adopt all your friends. I was not exaggerating about that being what my family does."
Marcus laughs and leans back. “Adopt away, babe.” He encourages you. “You’ll get sick of them quickly.” He teases, laughing again when they all shoot him a finger.
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Two days after touching back down in DC, the early morning meeting that you have with your mother and the communications staffer whose job it is to wrangle all things concerning the First Kids means that you’re up and moving before Marcus. You’re essentially having breakfast at the White House, which is less cozy than having coffee and muffins with your soulmate, but this meeting is important. You really do have things to talk to your mother about.
The staffers show you to the less formal dining rooms in the apartment, a rare time the president allows business to be conducted here, but it’s important that you feel comfortable.
The family dining room in the White House residence is still beautiful, and honestly you prefer it to the larger state dining room. The smaller and more casual room makes it easier to convince yourself that it’s just a normal breakfast with your mother today. Agent Bailey blends into the background here, noticeably more relaxed when she is around other agents and not working solo. It’s a good morning for both of you, and you move to the sideboard in the room to make yourself a cup of coffee while you wait for your mother to come in.
The communications staffer comes in and greets you warmly, laying out folders by the plates. “Your mother should be here in a few minutes. She was just in a briefing.”
“How are you, Annette?” The senior staffer that’s joining you is a woman that you’ve known for years. She was also on your mother’s staff in Pennsylvania and she is a good friend of the family after so many years working side by side.
“I’m doing well, how about you?” She asks politely and gives you a warm smile. “Your mother told me about your soulmate, I’m so thrilled for you.”
“That’s so sweet of you, thank you.” There’s going to be a lot more talk about Marcus as this goes on if your mother and Annette accept your proposal, but for now you sip your coffee and smile. “The adjustment to DC hasn’t been too bad for you? Everything’s been okay?” A little small talk before your mother comes in and breakfast gets served is actually nice. With everyone being so busy you feel like there are people you haven’t gotten to talk to in ages.
“It’s always crazy, but we are adjusting well.” She smiles. “Brad isn’t too fond of the traffic, but who is?” She snorts. “I keep threatening to steal a diplomatic plate.” She jokes.
"I'll nab them for you," you promise her, sitting back with your coffee and smiling at the way your promise ring glints in the room's lighting. "They can't fire me from being First Daughter."
She laughs, knowing that you are completely joking but it would be funny to see the headlines. “I’ll expect one then.” She teases, picking up her own coffee to sip.
It takes a few more minutes before your mother comes in, but you and Annette sit and chat and pour second (or third, in your case) cups of coffee.
“I’m sorry, Birdie, Annette.” Your mother rushes over to drop a kiss on your head and throw her arms around her friend’s shoulders briefly. “That took longer than I expected.”
“Everything okay?” You’re wildly aware that there is plenty that your mother deals with that you do not have the security clearance to know about, but that isn’t what you’re asking. You’re asking if your mother herself is okay.
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “But I wish that people would stop trying to impress me with long winded reports going over every minute detail.” She huffs with a laugh. “My favorite briefing is from DIA Agent York. He gives me the bare bones information and it’s over in less than five minutes.”
“Would he consider it a blessing or a curse to be out on the State dinner guest lists in appreciation for his speedy briefings?” You ask, practically snorting a laugh at breakfast is served.
“Knowing the kind of man he is, a curse.” She snorts, appreciating your joke but also because she would never willingly let a man like Dave York around her family unless he was protecting them.
“Well, it’s nice to know that the chaos around here is just normal chaos.” The smile you offer your mother is fully understanding. The inn is your own beautiful area of normalized chaos.
“Of course. Thank you for coming.” She acknowledges that her life, her career isn’t the center of her children’s lives and she doesn’t take for granted when they make time for it outside the normal Friday night dinners. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course, Mom.” An early morning meeting is a small sacrifice to make, especially when Marcus exhausted you last night trying out a sexy little card game you’d had stashed away since Syd’s bachelorette party a couple of years ago. It’s safe to say he liked the suggestions the game came up with. “There’s coffee, amazing food, and my favourite Mom, why wouldn’t I come? Although Marcus’s mother is pretty great. Solid second place in the Best Mom Ever competition.”
“I wanted to ask you how your week in Texas went.” She admits, pouring her own cup of coffee. It’s her third cup of the day so far, but she’s also been up since four.
“Honestly?” You pause when a staff member sets a plate of hot food in front of each of the three of you and a large platter of pastries and fruit in the center of the table. The chorus of Thank you’s is in unison. “It was fantastic. His parents are great, I got along pretty well with most of his cousins, and even met a bunch of his friends from college. It was…” you grin at The admission forming on your lips. “It was really wonderful. His parents are planning on coming up to visit us here this summer.”
“That’s wonderful.” Your mother lights up and she nods. “We will have to have a family dinner.” She suggests. “Here? Personal tour of the White House? Do you think that would be something they would enjoy? I know his father would probably enjoy a game while he’s here as well.”
“Marcus has season tickets to the Nationals so we’re definitely planning on seeing a game.” The omelets that have been set out in front of you are steaming and you dig in to your plate without hesitation. “I was going to ask you about a tour for them so thank you for jumping on that. And I know they would love to meet you guys. A family dinner would be really great.”
“Marcus is wonderful and I can guarantee that it’s a reflection of his parents.” Your mother hums. “And as your soulmate, I think it’s important that everyone meets and gets along.”
“I know his parents already said they wouldn’t be offended if you were too busy, but I do want you guys to meet.” Donna and Matthew Pike had sworn that they would completely understand if they didn’t see hide or hair of your parents during the trip, but that hadn’t sat well with you. Your parents have always made time for the important things in their kids’ lives no matter how busy they were.
“Absolutely not.” Your mother sounds offended by the idea. “There is no reason, barring a world catastrophe, where we should meet his parents at your engagement party or some other event. “No, if they want to have something low key, we don’t have to meet here. But I am eager to meet them.” She shoots you a grin. “Diplomacy can wait for one evening.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t pass up the chance to have dinner at the White House.” The grin you send your mother is beaming and appreciative. “That’s a bragging right not everyone gets. There will be plenty of informal meals in the future.”
“Then I will try to make sure that the chef makes something that will measure up to the amazing food Sydney will be plying them with.” If it wouldn’t hurt your business, your mother would have hired her to be the White House chef in a heartbeat.
“I will carry that compliment back to her on a silver platter.” Now that all three of you are eating — devouring — your breakfasts, you don’t mind getting into things. Of course your mother doesn’t have all day for this meeting, but you expect to be sitting here with Annette for at least a little while. “So, before I put my two cents in, what kind of social media and press presence were you thinking you might wrangle me into?” You’re curious, after all. Since Junie has a clear passion and Alex is handsome and personable, whatever route they chose for you was bound to be a little different.
“Well, I was hoping that we could show how small businesses are vital for our economy.” Your mother looks over at Annette who is nodding. “You are a small business owner and you work with others as well.”
“Okay.” You nod, mumbling the word as you finish a bite of food. “So highlighting the small businesses we work with? Making visible visits to other small businesses? That kind of thing?”
“I know that you utilize some of the local merchants for your supplies.” Your mother nods. “Maybe some clips of you with them? We can do a voice over with the message we want to sent.”
“I’ll compile a list of who we have good relationships with and you let me know who you want to have footage of?” It’s a big plug for the businesses that you do actual work with, so you can’t imagine any of them objecting. “Patronizing your local small businesses is a message I’m happy to get behind.”
“Corporations have garnered too much power in the country.” Your mother agrees. “We need to find a balance between them and a simpler time where everyone shopped local.”
“Alright, that’s easy enough.” Although you’re sure that other complications will arise in time, agreeing to this plan is at least something you’re glad to do. “Anything else?”
A look is exchanged between Annette and your mother. A pause that should be concerning. “It’s about…your soulmate.” She begins.
“What about him?” You frown instantly, not liking the tone that has been chosen for this thought.
“I was hoping that you might sit for an interview.” Annette is the one who voices it. “For the Love is Love legislation that your mother is trying to get passed.
“Oh!” The hesitation in their voices is nothing to do with Marcus, really, and you relax measurably. “Yes. We can definitely do that. And actually?” Looking between your mother and Annette, wondering what they’ll think of this idea coming from you of all people. “I think I can do you one bigger than that.”
“What do you have in mind, young lady?” Your mother almost smirks at the idea that you are suggesting something.
“I know I’m not the kid you expect this from.” The look on her face says that loud and clear and you completely understand why. “But Marcus and I talked it over, and we thought we would see what you thought about a First Family love story. From engagement to wedding to building a house.”
As a career politician, it’s been a rare time where your mother has been speechless, but she just gapes at you, her mouth slightly ajar in shock. “I— are you sure?”
"I mean we're not offering to have a White House photographer follow us around every second of every day, but we know that things are going to get said about us no matter what. Our family are public figures, and Marcus grew up with a father in the spotlight. We figured that getting ahead of the narrative and giving people honest glances into who we are was a hell of a lot better than people just speculating wildly."
“That is an amazingly gracious idea.” She can understand that you are going out on a huge limb and that is so appreciated. “Are you sure you would be comfortable with that scope?”
"We've talked through it," you tell her, knowing that it's probably unbelievable for her to hear this coming from you. "And I'm more confident when I have Marcus with me. I feel better able to handle the extra sets of eyes on my life. So...I thought it made sense not to waste that."
“I think that would be incredible.” She reaches out for your hand. “Only what you will give us though. No more.” Your father had reminded her right before leaving for her briefing that you are her daughter and probably the most private out of the three children. You don’t crave the spotlight at all.
"Marcus thought we could start with the engagement," you tell her, knowing that this is a big leap for you and trying not to be nervous about it. "But I think I should put something on my social media about him being my soulmate first. Maybe some photos from a date with a small announcement?"
“It will mitigate any issues that might spring up.” She doesn’t mention how there has been chatter about the congressman being unhappy about the demise of your relationship. That’s not your concern.
"Our favorite restaurant is family-owned, and we can pick something to do afterward that is still small business or community oriented." That shouldn't be too awfully hard, considering the DC area is always crawling with choices for things to do. You're spoiled for it, really.
“Whatever you think would be best.” She smiles at you. “While I would normally have one million ideas, I think it’s better if this is organically from you.”
“I know Marcus already has my engagement ring hidden away somewhere.” A fact which makes your cheeks burn and your smile turn a little dopey. “But I don’t know anything else as far as that goes. Is it okay if I give him your email so he can touch base with you, Annette?”
“Absolutely!” Annette agrees immediately, while your mother looks impressed that your soulmate has already bought your engagement ring. More importantly is your reaction to that information, you look dreamy eyed and she couldn’t be more happy for you. “I must applaud Marcus for thinking ahead.” Your mother hums, taking a small sip of her coffee to hide her smile.
“We’re both thinking ahead.” A fact which gives you no end of pleasure. The flight back from Dallas had been spent in dreams and future plans, cuddled together looking out the window and making up a list of big and small things you wanted for your future together. “We’re starting to plot out what we want for our house, too. That’s the timeline that’s going to take the longest.”
“Your house?” You had mentioned it before, but your mother ticks her head to the side curiously.
“We’re going to build,” you explain, reaching for a scone from the plate of pastries on the table. “Since the land that the inn is on is more than enough and I own all of it, we’re going to use a portion at the back of the acreage to build a house.”
“That sounds like an adventure.” She’s always known you enjoy doing things your way and it’s refreshing to see that apparently your soulmate understands how much of your being is invested in the inn.
“It’s going to feel like a mansion after sharing my apartment in the inn.” After a little discussion, Marcus had decided that he would rather share the smaller space with you while the house is being built and sublet his current place to Clark — ensuring that his friend can have the new start in DC that he wants. “But we’re excited. It’s a whole lot of planning and big steps forward all at once, and for once I really have a partner who’s on the same page as me.”
“That’s the most important thing.” She knows this from experience. There is absolutely no way she would be the current president if your father hadn’t been on the same page as her as far was what their lives might look like. It’s something she’s always wanted for all of you.
“So…I know it’s more than you were going to ask of me.” Which you appreciate. Your mother recognizing and honoring your boundaries is something she had to work on a lot when you were in your teens and twenties. You look at up her and crack a small, bashful grin. “But it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity for something as uplifting and positive as a White House wedding.”
“A White House wedding?” Your mother’s gasp is surprised, honestly believing you would never even entertain an idea like that. “Are you- you’re joking right? It’s not April Fools Day. That was days ago.”
“I am not joking.” Although you can definitely see why she would be shocked. This is not a decision that you made quickly or easily — or alone. “But I do have an ulterior motive,” you admit, wanting there to be full transparency. “I am hoping that a super-secure and publicly documented White House wedding is a trade off for letting us go on our honeymoon alone.”
She doesn’t even glance at Annette. “Absolutely.” Your mother immediately insists. “There is no way I would want any kind of publicity for your honeymoon. You don’t even have to negotiate for that.” It’s honestly alarming that you think she might want you to do something for her political career on your honeymoon.
“Oh, that isn’t what I meant,” you clarify immediately, seeing naked distress in your mother’s face when she’s normally so good at staying neutral. “I meant…without my Secret Service detail. Give Agent Bailey and Agent Sisson a few weeks off while we go overseas. Marcus is very well trained and definitely enough to keep just two of us safe.”
Her expression eases slightly, relieved that’s not what you are talking about and she nods. “I think that will be entirely appropriate.”
“I’m optimistic that we can make sure this works for everyone.” Sitting in your seat in the family dining room, you lean back with a little extra confidence — bolstered by the fact that you know Marcus is with you every step of the way, just like your family. “Make this happy, and exciting, and something to look forward to.”
“Whatever you want.” Your mother agrees. “Whenever you want.” She adds. “I don’t want you pushing up plans for us, sweetheart.”
“We said we wanted to get started on the house before we get engaged,” you tell your mother, though you have to appreciate her insistence here. Plenty of other parents would hack the timeline if they were in her shoes. “So it will depend on how quickly we start in on those plans.”
“And Marcus wants to stay at the inn while you build?” She asks, lifting a brow in surprise. While she has seen your little apartment and thinks that it’s darling, Sam had always insisted it was too small to share space for even more than a day.
“We talked it through and he feels like it’s more important for me to be close to the inn than for his commute to be shorter. He’s going to sublet his current place to a friend that wants to move up from Texas and then the friend can take over the lease when it comes up. We’ll have a little less space than we would if we stayed in his apartment, but we don’t mind close quarters.” A fact which you will not look bashful about right now…no not at all…
“That’s a very solid plan that you have laid out.” Annette compliments. “It seems like you and your soulmate have made a lot of plans.”
“Right now I’d call it our favorite hobby.” Second favorite, but you’re not talking about your sex life in front of your mother…
The president snorts and rolls her eyes as she reaches for another scoop of fruit. “Sure.”
“Anyway.” Forcibly getting the conversation back on track seems like a smart idea. “Annette is my point person, then?”
“Yes.” Your mother takes the hint with a small smile. “I reasoned you would be more comfortable with her than any of the new staff.”
“And I appreciate that.” You offer both your mother and Annette a grateful smile. “Especially since this is going to involve my soulmate, I’m very glad to have someone that I know and trust working with us.”
“I am eager to meet him.” She hadn’t been present at the state dinner, she had been sick, but from what she can tell she will like him.
“Why don’t you come by the inn and have dinner with us sometime in the next week or two?” You suggest, figuring that would be nicer than a formal sit up in an imposing setting. “Something casual for the first time you meet? So we can all relax a little.”
“That sounds perfect.” Annette knows the value of an informal meeting. It often creates a better mood for the entire interaction.
"Awesome." Having everything moving in a comfortable direction is as much as you could ask from this meeting, and it's nice to see your mother semi-relaxed at the start of a workday. "Well, I'm sure you have eighty-seven things to do today Mom, so I won't keep you."
She winces apologetically and looks at her watch. “I’m actually about three minutes late for a cabinet meeting.” She admits, standing up to move over and kiss your forehead again. “Are you and Marcus coming to dinner on Friday?”
"We'll be there with bells on," you promise her. "Go get to your meeting. I love you, and tell Dad I love him too."
“I will, sweetheart.” She promises. “Annette, I will see you later. Take your time finishing breakfast.”
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The unfortunate truth is that the dinner with Annette might be necessary sooner rather than later. Within a bare twenty-four hours of the White House Easter Egg Roll and the official photos that refer to Marcus Pike as your soulmate, the commentary on social media and in online tabloids begins.
Marcus frowns as he opens the new story. It’s not uncommon for articles to be inflammatory, he knows that from the state dinner, but this is all but calling you a cheating liar. “Fuck.” He growls, eyes narrowing on the wording from the ‘anonymous source’.
"What's wrong?" Your nose is stuck in the schedule for next week while dinner is in the oven and you sit with Marcus in the living room, but you glance up when he sounds unhappy.
Marcus sighs and turns his phone towards you so you can read the headline. “I hate to accuse anyone, but this fucking sounds like your favorite congressman ex.”
"Sounds more like your ex, if you ask me." Vanessa might look sweet and innocent, but she can be cutthroat and single-minded in her goals when she sets herself to it. Something she learned from her justice father. "Think they're getting their jollies going after us together?"
“Shit- you think?” He ended things on a good note with Vanessa. Actually, she broke up with him, why would she smear his name?
"I don't know what her motive would be besides trying to get under Sam, but I wouldn't be surprised by it." Leaning forward to read the beginning of the article on his phone, you still frown. "I knew somebody was going to try saying we cheated, but damn."
“We know the truth.” Marcus frowns as he rereads the article. “This seems to imply that we are lying about being soulmates.” He looks over to you with a small grin. “That’s proven easily enough.”
"Hmm." That does make you smile, and you look up at him from behind your laptop. "Are you thinking we should stage a little photo on my social media as a response?"
“Absolutely.” He’s not thrilled about the tattoo you both share, but it’s solid evidence of your connection. “Your reputation won’t even tarnish a little.”
"I'm sure I'll get some snide comments about the kind of tattoo we share, but that's on me." You shrug at the truth of it. "I definitely should have gotten it somewhere else."
He laughs and shrugs. “Doesn’t make a difference now.” He reminds you. “It’s on both of our skin, so it’s proof. You’ve had it for years and so have I. Should we post new pictures and old ones with the tattoos?”
"We can do a little album on my Instagram." The suggestion is a welcome one, but it does mean you push your laptop away and set it on the coffee table to snuggle a little closer to him. "You have old photos with the tattoo in them?"
“I do.” Marcus chuckles. “But….” He shrugs. “They were taken by my ex-wife. She’s not in them.” He assures you.
“That’s fine.” Frankly, if Lara gets involved in the conversation it will just reinforce the fact that Marcus has had your marks for a very long time. “I can bribe Agent Sisson to be our photographer for a photo that has both of us in it.”
“And how do we want to casually set up pictures of our lower backs?” He asks with a grin.
“There’s nothing casual about what we’re doing.” You tuck yourself into his side and grin. “This is answering a call out.”
“To address any unfounded and untrue rumors….” He captions with a snort. “Straightforward. I like it.”
"If we wanted to do this casually, I would just say we should go take some pool pictures." You glance up at him, seeing what he thinks of that. "Violating my mom's no bikini rule for a good cause."
“I like bikini’s.” He agrees immediately, his eyes darkening slightly with lust.
"Oh yeah?" The smirk on your face is nearly instant. "Like we should take a tropical vacation level of like?"
“Like you need to book one immediately.” He huffs. “Texas didn’t count as a vacation.”
"Of course it did!" The fact that he's getting all bent out of shape imagining you in a bikini when he sees you naked on a daily basis is adorably, quite frankly. "And you can't even claim it wasn't sexy. We nearly broke that bed."
“Of course we did.” He laughs. “It’s old and we are horny.” He teases, biting his lip as he pulls you close. “But in a bikini, it’s so much less clothing to take off you.”
"You wouldn't even have to take it off." He's getting ideas and you turn your face up to smirk at him, fully encouraging those ideas to take form. "Just shove it aside. Nothing else needed."
“Fuck.” He hisses, clenching his jaw and imagining fucking you on a beach somewhere.
"Gonna keep that imagine in the spank bank, babe?" You can't help but tease him a little, knowing that you would be reacting exactly the same way if it was Marcus teasing you. But you started it this time so you get to tease.
“Fuck yes, I am.” He snorts. “We would get arrested. But it would be worth it.”
"There's a private beach where we could get away with it somewhere." Leaning up to press a kiss to Marcus's cheek, you're still grinning. "Good to know it's on the fantasy list, though."
“Very high up there.” Marcus admits with no shame. Just the freedom to explore these ideas with you is amazing, even if they are never acted on.
"I think..." The only thing that keeps you from shifting into his lap is the kitchen timer going off from the oven. Instead of climbing on to him you just climb off the couch to get to the baked pasta you put together right before Marcus got home from work. "That maybe we should do half the honeymoon in Paris and the other half on the Riviera? Get some swimsuit time in?"
“I like the way you think.” Marcus chuckles quietly, nodding. “How long are we talking? A few days in each place? A week?”
"A week each?" You pull him up from the couch to come to the kitchen with you. There's still a table to set and wine to pour, and all that good stuff. "Two weeks in France sounds like magic."
“I agree.” He grins and grabs the bottle of wine you had set out. It’s become a routine to have a glass with dinner and he enjoys the selection the inn has, although it annoys you that he insists on paying you for the wine.
"A big, beautiful wedding. Two weeks in Paris. A lovely house for us to move into." Every time you think through the plans you're starting to make for the future, they sound better and better.
“That sounds perfect to me.” Marcus admits, smiling softly at the idea. “Have you thought about the style ideas I sent you?”
"I was showing your Pinterest board to Syd on our lunch today." The collection of Dutch Colonial, Queen Anne, Georgian, and Federal style houses that Marcus had put together to share with you is full of so many ideas that you had lost track of time in the kitchen and was almost late to interview a new member of the housekeeping staff. "She likes the Queen Anne style Victorians, of course."
“Of course she does.” Marcus grins as he lifts a brow. “Which one of those were you most interested in?” He doesn’t really mind what architectural style your home is in, as long as you are happy with the result.
Having decided that the edge of the property where you planned to build was far enough from the inn and her out buildings that you didn’t need to be loyal to the colonial structures, you have a little more freedom to choose what you build. “I think I like the Georgian houses you sent me best,” you tell him, setting down two plates of baked pasta in the table at your customary seats. “It complements the colonial style without being obsessive about matching, and it’s not overly complicated.”
“That’s a good choice, and it still fits with the overall theme of the property.” Marcus agrees. “However…one thing I think is a must in our new house.”
“What’s that?” The two of you settle down and pick up your forks, comfortable in the relative quiet of the apartment while Agent Bailey takes one of her occasional walks around the grounds.
“We have to have an elevator in our house.” He’s gotten used to the elevator at the inn and can’t imagine living without one now.
“Non-negotiable?” You tease, knowing that on the nights he goes to the gym after work he groans his way into the apartment on principle. “Noted. You will have your elevator.”
“Thank God.” He dramatically moans and tosses his head back. “Getting older sucks. You’ll see.” He teases about the age gap, but it’s only seven years. “Heartburn is about to start.”
“I was more thinking of our kids,” you admit quietly, poking your fork into a big bite of sausage and zucchini and pasta together. “What if one of them needs the house to be accessible?”
“That thought had crossed my mind.” Marcus agrees. “But we will pray that all our children will be healthy, prepare in case they are not.”
“No matter what, they’ll be cared for and loved.” That, at least, you can both guarantee.
“Plus it will be easier when someone undoubtably breaks a leg.” Marcus snorts, laughing slightly. “It seemed like it was a contest in my family who would break a bone first every year.”
“Kids are gonna be clumsy,” you joke, pointing your fork at him in teasing accusation. “Got it.”
“But they will make up for it with good looks and charm.” He grins back at you and winks.
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First Princess Cheating Scandal is the headline splashed across the tabloid on the magazine rack, and your hand twitches before reaching for it. This is the bullshit you absolutely hate about being in the public eye, and now that they’ve started coming for Marcus you hate it even more. The article inside claims that you faked your matching marks — including your scars, which is possible but extremely far fetched — and that you’ve been sleeping together since at least the night of the State dinner.
With another one of those dinners on the horizon and the weariness in your bones over now spending multiple weeks of time on this stupid non-issue, you pay for the magazine and continue on to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building with it shoved in your purse. Agent Bailey’s advice had been to let it roll off your shoulders because people are always going to gossip, but as much as you’d like to do that it’s possible this might affect your mother’s image. Or your business. Your previously fully booked inn has had multiple cancelled reservations since this whole thing started.
So you walk on, with the little treats you made in a container in your purse and Marcus’s favorite midafternoon coffee order from the shop around the corner to surprise him at the office.
Marcus is pouring over a case when you knock on his office door. He doesn’t keep it closed, preferring to let his team come to him whenever. To feel like they can. Looking up, he sees you and immediately smiles. “Birdie.” He almost said Princess, but since the beginning of this entire ‘scandal’ non-scandal thing, it’s kind of soured the nickname. Immediately abandoning the file, he stands up and rushes around to give you a kiss. “This is a welcomed surprise.”
“I did a little baking with Syd this afternoon and the results were so good that I couldn’t wait to share.” The kiss is a comforting balm, even if it’s short, and you hold up the cup in your left hand. “And I brought your coffee.”
He groans in appreciation, of both the baked goods and the caffeine. “I was just about to get another cup from the break room, but this is better. His hand slides around your back and he rubs it soothingly, seeing the pinch of upset around your eyes but he wants you to talk to him naturally. “Want to come inside? Share it with me?”
You nod and step inside, your own cup from the coffeeshop clutched in your other hand. It’s herbal tea, though. Caffeine didn’t seem like a good idea when you’re already anxious. “Agent Bailey is in the bullpen, I hope you don’t mind.” Now that you’re in a relationship with a well-trained and fully competent federal agent, your Secret Service detail tends to be a bit more relaxed about giving you space.
“Not at all.” Marcus insists, guiding you over to the little couch in his office. “Rodriguez will show her where the donuts are.” He snickers.
“So…” he sits down beside you and you pull a small container of Madeleines out of your oversized purse to offer to him, but the magazine is sitting just underneath and it makes your eyebrows pinch together all over again. “We walked past a news stand on the way here and…saw a new headline.”
“Oh no.” Marcus sighs, he takes the container but sets them aside to give you his full attention. “Bad?”
“Not great.” With a resigned sigh, you pull the magazine out of your bag and hand it over for Marcus to inspect. Under the headline is the now-famous shot of the two of you dancing together and the article inside includes a paparazzi shot of the two of you grocery shopping alongside one torn from your social media of a date night.
He winces at the headline and huffs, opens it, flipping to the article and skimming it. “I want to really get this ‘anonymous source’ into a fucking interrogation room.” He growls, growing more and more upset at the outright lies that are being insinuated. “But it’s fucking hard to be sleeping with you when security from Vanessa’s building has me showing up on a timestamped tape.”
“Agent Bailey was less than thrilled with the accusation that she would lie about anything out of loyalty. You might have to fight her for that interrogation.” Shaking your head as he puts down the magazine, you’re craving his warmth and security enough that you lean in on the couch beside him. “I had an idea, but I don’t know if you’ll like it,” you admit quietly.
“What is it?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, wanting to protect you from all this. He feels guilty, like you would be better off if your connection hadn’t been acted on.
“It’s….a little dramatic.” You can admit that, too. Although at this point you feel like a dramatic response isn’t uncalled for.
It might be necessary, in Marcus’s opinion. He nods and hums while waiting for you to continue.
“How would you feel about having another tattoo?” The question is posed carefully, quietly, but you had been considering it all the way over and bandied it back and forth with Agent Bailey during your walk. While extreme, it would certainly put all doubts to rest to share a video of you getting a new tattoo and having it appear just seconds after being finished, fully formed on Marcus’s skin.
“No gang or face tattoos.” Marcus jokes, shrugging slightly. “I’ve got no problem if you want to get a tattoo, sweetheart.” He decides. “But I don’t want you to do that simply to prove that we are soulmates. We don’t owe anyone anything.”
“I know it’s not owed.” That thought had never even crossed your mind, actually. “But I want this put to rest and something small that we decide on together would be a nice mark to share under almost any circumstance.” Shrugging a little, you take a sip of your tea and sit back. “It’s just a thought. Obviously I’m not going to just go off and do this on my own. That’s the opposite of the point of it.”
“No, I’m not opposed to it.” Marcus protests softly. “I just want to make sure it’s not from a place of insecurity.”
“Even if we weren’t soulmates, I would think it was sweet to have matching tattoos,” you tell him honestly, savoring the quiet comfort of the moment when your mind was chaotic just a half hour ago.
“What kind are you thinking of?” He asks softly, smiling as you lean against him. He enjoys the warmth of moment. The quiet comfort of you with him.
“I haven’t come up with anything brilliant.” Or even anything original. You had mostly been waiting to talk to him about it. “But something small, that’s reasonably discreet? Behind the ear or on the ankle or something like that? Even the wrist, so you could cover it with your watch when you want. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
“What about a little flower?” Marcus offers. “Behind the ear. I can cover that with my hair if I need to, and it can be your favorite bloom.”
“That sounds completely adorable.” The smile you have for him is beaming, feeling the way your heart bursts at his absolute acceptance and support. The love that radiates off him even in something as simple as knowing how much you love flowers.
“I thought you would like that.” He admits, tapping just behind your ear. “And you are so sensitive when I kiss right here. Especially when I’m inside you.”
“That’s mostly because you’re inside me.” Even though your cheeks burn with it and you slide down a little against his side, you’re still beaming at him. “If we’re going for things that enhance sensitivity then maybe I’ll have to look into piercings,” you tease.
“Don’t tease.” He pouts, twitching under the proper suit. “I can’t think about those kinds of things and be expected to work.”
“Oh, would you like if I had secret piercings?” You raise one eyebrow in interest, surprised to hear such an enthusiastic response to the passing idea.
“Piercings are hot.” Marcus would never deny that. “If you wanted to get some, I would support you completely. Enthusiastically.” He teases with a grin.
You hum at him, intrigued enough by the thought to actually heavily consider it, just imagining his face seeing them and how eager he would be to play with them. “That would be a very personal gift for my soulmate.”
Yes it would be. Marcus hums, trying and failing to hide a small smirk. “Personal is good.” He agrees, “but don’t feel like that’s something I have to have. If you want it, that’s one thing.”
"It's something to think about." It's no secret to him that you like things that mark you as his – your soulmate marks, of course, but your promise ring and occasionally wearing a piece of his clothing as well. Piercings might be something only he would see, but that just makes it all the more meaningful.
“Hmmmmmm.” He chuckles and nods his head. “It is. But I don’t think you came all the way down here to just fill my head with dirty thoughts.”
"I came down to surprise you with coffee and tell you that I love you." When he cocks his head slightly, you end up grinning. "I might have a little date night planned for you tonight. The caffeine has ulterior motives."
"Oh really?" He perks up, smiling slightly as he looks over at you in utter surprise. "So I need to make sure I'm home on time tonight?"
"Actually?" His delight is gratifying, and you squeeze his arm gently at your waist. "I'm taking you right from here. Our night is in the city."
"Kidnapping me, hmmm?" He grins widens and he bites his lip. "What does Agent Bailey think of such activities?"
"Oh, she helped me plan it." And she seemed to have fun with it, too, which made the little diversion even better. "Even made our dinner reservation for us."
"Wow." Marcus makes an impressed face. "That was a plot twist I didn't expect." he laughs. "Am I allowed to know any details or just show up and look pretty?"
"Just be your handsome self when I come back at five to pick you up." You stretch up to kiss his cheek, glad that he seems to be looking forward to tonight and hadn't been looking forward to just going home. "I'm going to scoot home, finish some paperwork, and get all dolled up for you."
"Bring me back an outfit?" Marcus asks, turning pleading eyes on you. "It can be another suit, I just want to freshen up too. Look my best."
"I'll bring something devastating but understated." That isn't hard considering Marcus's wardrobe is extremely well curated, but you still like to pay him the compliment as you pull yourself back to standing. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, babe."
He can’t help but grin a little more, your compliment making his shoulders lift confidently. “I’ll see you soon.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours in the office where there’s privacy, although he will walk you to the elevator.
"I love you." That is for the privacy of his office too, but only because it comes with such a doe-eyed look from you that it's nearly obscene.
“I love you too, Hummingbird.” He promises, the same sappy look in his eyes as he turns to guide you out of the office. His hand rests on your lower back, over the tattoo.
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Unfortunately, no date night photos or other positive presence on your social media is enough to combat the now growing accusation and rumors surrounding your soulmate status. It's only two weeks after first presenting the idea to Marcus that you're both sitting in a tattoo studio with the artist that did a beautiful flower tattoo for Sydney's sister AnnaLeigh.
Marcus had asked Juan to come and film the entire thing, so it couldn’t be said that it was spliced together. Although he was sure that comment was coming. Some people couldn’t be pleased no matter what, they didn’t want to believe there was an innocent reason for them being together.
The simple design would not take long to ink into your skin, and the artist helped Juan set up two chairs so that both you and Marcus could be in the shot to capture the instant the finished tattoo appears on Marcus’s skin. The entire video would be shared on your social media, audio included, so you had had to work up the nerve to even just chat with Marcus on camera. Sharing another mark with him isn’t stressful at all, it’s letting the public so deeply into your personal life that is.
“I like the design.” Marcus sits down on the other side of you and takes your hand. “You should have let me do the tattoo this time.” He jokes. “I don’t know what it feels like.”
“We can switch if you want to?” You’re nervous, and he knows it. Not for getting the tattoo, but from everything that has been going on.
“That’s up to you, sweetheart. Whatever you want to do.” Marcus wouldn’t take this experience from you if you want it.
“It’s small,” the artist assures you, seeing anxiety in her clients. “And behind the ear doesn’t hurt very much for most people. I had one woman nearly fall asleep on the table because she liked the humming and the soft vibrations.”
Marcus can handle a little bit of pain. You know that. A tattoo is nothing compared to broken limbs or the incident when he was undercover and was shot — which had sent you in a flurry of cooing and coddling for about three days when he first told you about it. Tattooing is the kind of pain that some people find pleasurable, so you squeeze his hand and nod. “Why don’t you give it a shot? You might decide you like it and we’ll end up here all over again.”
“Is that alright with you?” Marcus asks the tattoo artist, knowing they might not appreciate a change of clientele.
“Fine with me.” She nods as she sets up her tray. “I have both of your information on file and believe it or not this happens a lot. Soulmates come in with a design they’ve chosen but they’ll change their mind at the last minute about which one of them will actually being sitting for it.”
Marcus chuckles and turns you both so he can sit down in the chair. “We’ll both be wearing it anyway.” He agrees. “So I don’t mind experiencing it.”
“I’ve never been shot but I guarantee it hurts less.” You move to let him sit in the artist’s chair and situate yourself by his side.
Marcus chuckles as the tattoo artists eyes widen. “I’m a federal agent.” He explains quietly. “It was just a flesh wound, but she thinks it’s impressive.”
“It is impressive!” And you’re just going to keep telling him so over and over until he caves, but right now you just throw a pout at him to make him laugh.
Marcus gives you the laugh and turns his head to the side, staring at you. “Still not as impressive as you are beautiful.” He murmurs softly, although the video picks it up.
“I love you, too.” The bashfulness in it is only because you weren’t expecting that kind of compliment right now — as the artist about to permanently ink Marcus’s skin is making sure she has everything she needs on her tray. You lean into his side and tip back your head, nothing but pure love in your eyes right before they slip shut at the brief press of your lips to his.
Marcus hums, an automatic sound that comes out of him when you kiss him. Excited that you are as free with your kisses as he is, it’s liberating to indulge whenever the urge strikes you. When you pull back, he grins. “Now I’m ready.”
"Go ahead and lean forward." Sitting down on her stool, the artist beckons Juan over with the camera for the best angle to watch the action and still have you in the shot. "And here goes nothing."
The first touch of the needle nearly makes Marcus jump. He barely resists the urge and then laughs quietly, trying not to move too much. “This is kind of ticklish.” He admits.
"Then it already hurts less than the one I got," you tease, glad that the experience isn't painful for him. Watching him giggle about it and knowing it's being filmed is downright endearing.
“I’m sorry.” Marcus apologizes, even though he has nothing to be sorry for. “I wish your experience was better.” He snorts after he says it. “Maybe not, or I might be covered in ink.”
"It wasn't bad, but it was definitely more than a tickle." The grin you shoot him, though, is knowing. "If you end up liking this so much tonight, we might be covered in ink because of you instead."
“Only areas that can be respectfully covered.” He teases you, sending you a wink as the artist continues to carefully work behind his ear.
"Sounds like a plan," you toss him a smirk in return and the set of you grow quiet after another round of low laughter, so the only sound in the room becomes the resilient buzz of the artist's needle.
Marcus could probably fall asleep if the noise didn’t vibrate in his head. He smiles at you, squeezing your hand gently. “After this, we will have to go get that cream to keep it clean.”
"We can get a Tattoo Goo kit before we leave the shop." His hand is in yours and you squeeze it reassuringly. "It's going to be tender for a bit, but it won't take too long to heal."
“I’m sure you will be completely cuddly as I heal.” He snickers quietly.
"I think having a cuddly girlfriend is mandatory for the healing process," you tell him seriously. At this point you've completely forgotten Juan is here for any other reason besides moral support. Forgotten about the phone in his hands being a camera and the fact that this video will become public for the world to see. This is just a moment between you and your soulmate. And a sweet one, at that.
“You should have seen me when the scar from your appendix showed up.” He snorts. “I was upset that my soulmate was hurt.”
“We were kids.” Sure he’s older than you, but you were so young when you had appendicitis. “Did it really worry you that much?”
“Yeah.” Marcus admits, not ashamed of that in the least. “Not knowing what happened, I kept imagining horrible things. Waited for other scars to possibly show up for at least a week.”
“If you had scarred from your broken leg or when you hurt your shoulder, I probably would have felt the same way.” It’s less of an admission from you and more of a confirmation, telling him in no uncertain terms how much you have always cared about his well-being. “Which is still your gunshot wound is such a big deal.” One of your fingers digs into his arm playfully. “That scared the crap out of me.”
“Well, now if I get shot, you can baby me right away.” He teases. “And tell the plastic surgeon to make the scar invisible.”
"I don't mind wearing your scars." The thought comes out quieter than you mean for it to, holding Marcus's hand tightly in yours. "I'm proud of you. And proud to wear your marks, no matter how many of them there are."
“Hopefully not too many more.” He hopes, smiling at you. “But I’m proud to wear your marks too, Hummingbird.”
The session doesn’t last too much longer. Marcus has a high pain tolerance but the tattoo mainly just tickles him, making him grin and laugh as he chats with you and with the artist for the last few minutes. When she pronounces him done and stands back, there is a moment of silence before the permanence of the piece takes hold on him and transfers instantly to your skin.
A sharp intake of breath at the momentary pain is how you know it has happened, and you glance over at Marcus — and Juan with your phone — just absolutely beaming with happiness. “Does it look as good on me as it does on him?”
Marcus inspects the area, forgetting the camera is even on and recording. He leans in and presses a kiss to the tattoo. “It looks even better, Princess.” He promises with a smile.
______
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foundheavenly · 2 days
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Hello I wanted to ask about a fic with a dying SO in the arms of Geto,Gojo and Nanami?
If that's too much characters then I choose Gojo.
Thank you in advance
Slipping through my fingers
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Disclaimer: English is not my mother tongue so please be nice
Words:
Pairing: gojo x reader, geto x reader, nanami x reader
Theme: heavy angst
Masterlist
Thank you for this requet but who hurt you??? I guessed I'm relieved that I like writing angst because I would have been a complete mess right now. <3
Nanami -
You were weak and battered, every breath feeling like a struggle against an invisible force. Kento held you in his arms, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"You can't leave me" Kento pleaded, his voice breaking. "I can't do this without you."
His heart was heavy with fear.
Right at that moment, his mind brought him back years ago. He saw himself back when he lost his only friend, the only person who had ever been his solace. He saw himself back when he lost Haibara. And right after this tragedy, he promised himself to protect those around him. He promised himself to protect you, to prevent anything from happening to you.
Yet here he was. His hands shaking and covered in fresh blood.
Your blood.
You reached up, cupping his cheek with a trembling hand. "You're strong, Kento. Stronger than you know. You'll carry on, and you'll make the world a safer place, just like we always dreamed."
Tears welled in Kento's eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling in the cold air of the room. "I can't imagine a world without you in it" he admitted, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heart breaking.
"Remember when we first met?" you whispered, a faint smile tugging at your quiver and cold lips. "You were so determined to save the world from curses, and I was just a stubborn girl with too much curiosity for her own good."
Kento chuckled softly, the memory of your first meeting flooding back to him. "You were always getting yourself into trouble" he recalled fondly. "But you had a heart of gold, and I knew from that moment that I couldn't let you face the dangers of this world alone."
Your tired and dull eyes met his and you took a sharp breath. "Kento.." you whispered, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Don't talk." He said firmly and choked back tears, his hands trembling a bit as they pressed against the wounds, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
You managed a weak smile, feeling a surge of warmth from his voice.
His thick fingers gently moved to your face and brushed against your cheek, his touch tender yet laden with sorrow. "You're going to be okay. You have to be."
You shook your head faintly and a faint chuckle escaped your lips, knowing the truth even as you clung to the last vestiges of hope. You weren't ready yet. You didn't want to leave him, not right now. Not when you were close to get married.
"You always were the optimist." You said, your voice barely a whisper. "But even you can't deny the truth forever, my love."
Your words got him.
Simply.
Quickly.
Terribly.
Tears spilled over his lashes, trailing down his cheeks in shimmering rivulets. "Nonsense." Kento insisted even though he was in pure panic, his voice cracking with anguish. "We will find a way. We always do."
It was the very first time his stern mask was breaking.
Your eyes fluttered open, the light within them dimming with each passing moment. "I don't want you to blame yourself." You murmured, voice slurred with deep pain. "This was my choice, my burden to bear."
You acted wtihout thinking. Wave of curses was attacking you over and over. Not sparring you nor him. You just shielded him with your body as he was getting exhausted.
"You are not leaving me." He said, desperation lacing his words. "I won't let you."
Your hand suddenly lost its grip on his cheek, the touch growing weaker with each passing second. "Remember me" You whispered, labored breathing. "Remember us."
"Always." Kento promised. "I will never forget you."
Gojo -
In the dimly lit room of an abandoned warehouse, the air was thick with tension and the scent of blood. Satoru, his normally blue vibrant eyes covered by his blindfold were now filled with worry, cradled you, his best friend, whose life was slipping away with each passing moment. The mission against the curses had taken a disastrous turn, leaving both of them battered and broken.
He was repeating himself that he couldn't lose you. No, he couldn't. Not you. Not after losing his best friend a few months ago.
With trembling hands, Satoru pressed down on the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood. "Hang in there," he whispered. His voice choked with emotion. He was trying hard to keep in control. "We will get you to Shoko."
You managed a weak smile, the effort visibly draining you. "I'm not sure I can hold on much longer, Toru" You rasped, each breath a struggle.
"Don't talk like that" The white haired man pleaded, his heart clenching at the sight of your pain. "You're stronger than this. You've survived worse. Way worse."
A faint chuckle escaped the your quiver lips, tinged with bitter irony. "Guess I used up all my luck on those past missions, huh?"
Tears welled up in his eyes as he shook his head. "No, you're not allowed to give up. I won't let you."
In the distance, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the empty warehouse. Satoru's grip tightened around you, a mixture of fear and determination etched on his face.
"I wish I could have protected you better. I let my guard down." Satoru murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."
You reached out, weak fingers brushing against his cheek. "You've always been there for me. That's more than enough."
Your conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Shoko, rushing to your side. Satoru watched helplessly as she worked frantically to stabilize you, her efforts a blur against the backdrop of your fading consciousness.
Shoko looked at Satoru and he understood.
Darkness closed in around him, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I won't leave your side" he vowed, his voice trembling with unspoken emotions. "I promise."
And in that heartbreaking moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, Satoru whispered words of love to the one person who had always meant everything to him, even if he had never found the courage to say it aloud before.
Geto -
"I'm sorry, my love" whispered Geto, his voice trembling with sorrow as he pressed his lips to your forehead. "I never should have let you take that risk."
Lying on the cold stone floor, gasping for breath, a weak smile graced your lips as you struggled to speak. "It was our job, Suguru. Our job to protect the world from the darkness that lurks in the shadows."
Tears welled in his eyes as he held you tighter, as if trying to defy the inevitable. "But at what cost, my love? At what cost?"
He couldn't lose you. Oh, he could be selfish and cursed you so you could stay by his side. But he won't do this. Not to you.
Your breaths grew shallow, each one a painful reminder of your condition "Some sacrifices are necessary. For the greater good."
His heart clenched at the words, a mixture of pride and despair flooding his soul. "I cannot bear to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.
"I'm sorry. I don't think I have much time left." You said.
"Don't say that.” He murmured, his hands trembling as he tried to stop the blood. "We will get you out of here."
"It might be too late for that." You whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "The pain...is too powerful. It's consuming me from the inside."
Geto's heart clenched with despair as he realized the gravity of the situation. They had embarked on this mission together, determined to rid the world of the malevolent curses that threatened to engulf it. But now, faced with the prospect of losing you, his resolve wavered.
He was going to lose his mind.
He won't be able to live without you.
He can't lose you.
"We should never have taken this mission." Suguru murmured, his voice choked with regret. "I should have protected you."
You winced and reached out, grasping his hand with a strength born of sheer willpower. "Don't blame yourself. We knew the risks when we got to this school. And besides, we've met each other and I am happy I got to spend time with the love of my life."
His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gazed down at you, his heart heavy with sorrow. "I love you. I can't bear to lose you."
"I love you too, my love" You replied with a genuine smile, her voice barely audible now. You were close to the end. "But you have to promise me something."
"Anything," Suguru vowed, his voice breaking with emotion.
"Promise me that you'll keep going." You whispered, your grip on his hand weakening with each passing moment. "Promise me that you'll never give up and lose yourself, no matter what."
Suguru gulped and nodded.
"I promise" He vowed, his voice filled with determination.
You smiled faintly, your strength fading with each heartbeat.
Your eyes fluttered closed, Geto pressed his lips to your forehead, whispering a silent prayer to whatever gods he didn't really believe in might be listening.
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elllisaaa · 11 hours
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loved the bf!beomgyu!!! <3 could you perhaps do bf!taehyun as well? :)
the bf!txt agenda is not doing any good for my delulu hours but here we go !!
BF!TAEHYUN who is not the most talkative, but that is the most caring and observant boyfriend ever.
for example, he knows exactly what your coffee order is, he knows what your favourite snacks are, and he knows which song from your long ass playlist on spotify is your favourite. and these are things you don't even have to tell him, just because he always has an eye on you, and because he wants you to feel like a princess. and that's how taehyun makes you feel everyday. whenever you need something, bet he would hand you his card so you can pay for it. and don't even think about paying something for yourself or the both of you when you two are going out. but that's just because he wants to treat you like the queen you are.
"oh and i left my card for you on the kitchen counter, since you're going out with your friends this afternoon. i know you will do some shopping so get yourself something nice for our date tonight angel."
even if you don't workout, taehyun will bring you to the gym with him. he doesn't need you to do anything else than be there for him. it's maybe not what some would call quality time, but it is for both of you, especially when his schedule is so packed. he steals some kisses between his sets, lets you vent to him about your annoying coworkers, and smiles everytime you take his towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. and yes, he also loves it when you gush over his muscles and how strong he is. he's often the one praising you, and when you compliment him, he always finds a way to turn it back and fluster you. so sometimes, you make it your life mission to make him blush instead. and he lets you do so because you have him wrapped around your finger.
"you're very pretty today angel." - "but you're prettier tae, the prettiest boy in the world." - "what did i do to deserve you ?"
you know that your boyfriend sometimes struggles to talk about his emotions and feelings, and you're always here for him no matter what. but when he finally opens up to you, he's never backing up. everytime he feels bad or tired we would've kept it to himself and stayed alone before. but now, after a long day at work, all he wants is to come back home to you and hold you close to him. sometimes he needs to tell you everything that happened, and sometimes he just needs you to soothe him into your embrace. either way, he feels the most at ease, the most loved when he's close to you. in the mornings after these nights, he wakes up before you to make you breakfast as a thank you, even if you insist that he doesn't need to and that it's your job as his girlfriend. but the princess treatment never ends with taehyun, and he will never take you for granted.
"just eat angel, i did it because i wanted to and because i love you."
BF!TAEHYUN who pays for everything just so he can literally ruin you for any other men when you come back home.
because the reason he let you borrow his card to pay for your hair, your nails and your clothes, has some ulterior motives. he loves it when you're all dolled up for him, when you take up so much time to look even better than usual for him. he especially loves it when you're wearing skirts or dresses, because it gives him an easier access for when he bends you over the couch and fucks you from behind. he loves it when your makeup runs down your face because you're crying from how good he's making you feel. taehyun loves it when your hair are all tangled and messy because he's tugging on them when you're sucking on his cock. and he loves it when he sees the scratching marks your brand new nails he payed for had left on his back.
"that's it princess, cry for me. feels good ? i know it does."
taehyun is always willing to give you everything you want in bed, as long as you're good for him and doing everything he's telling you to. one of his favourite ways to torture you a little is by edging you. you can choose how he's pleasing you - his mouth, fingers or cock, whatever you want, he'll give it to you - but you have to warn him every time you're close, and he'll stop. and when he finally lets you cum, he's telling how proud of you he is, how good you are for him, and how good he's gonna fuck you as a reward. and he does fucks you good, so good you're going dumb and can only whine and cry out for him.
"my good girl, i'm gonna take care of you, hm ? gonna reward my angel."
but when you're not following his orders, or when you decide to be a brat and act out, he has no other choice but to discipline you, right ? his go to punishment is to bend you over his lap and spank you. taehyun makes you count each slap he gives you, finding it cute how red the skin of your ass gets with each new one. he loves it when you stumble over your words, moaning and crying out when he slaps your butt one more time. each time, you take your punishment so well he cannot do anything else than rewarding you with his cock, because after all, you're his princess and he just wants to give you the best. and obviously, he loves it when you're all cute and innocent, but the best moment is when you become nasty and desperate for him and he gets to lovingly degrade you.
"my pretty little slut, acting like a saint and whoring yourself out for my cock."
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ilwonuu · 1 day
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AHHHH IVE JUST FINISHED READING UR FIRST TIME WITH YEOSANG AND THE SAN VERSION!!! I AM IN LOVEEEE WITH THIS!!! I was also wondering if you could do a Jun version of this since I saw u also write for Seventeen! 🩷
oh my gosh thank you so much!! i’m so happy you enjoyed them,,,i would love to do a jun version,,,lmk what you think and thank you for requesting <3
first time
·.༄࿔ wen junhui
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ೀ pairing- established relationship, nonidol!jun x fem!reader, softdom!jun x sub!reader
ೀ warnings- smut with no plot, fluff!!!, first time, dry humping, making out, slight blood, unprotected sex(he pulls out), dirty talk, pet names(angel,baby), jun is a sweetheart<3, they take a bath together after, they say i love you for the first time (yuck), lmk what else!!!
ೀ a/n- i was having WAY too much fun writing this. where’s my jun at 🙂
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you and jun have never rushed into anything in your relationship. you met him a few years ago but only started dating him for 5 months. you two didn’t get intimate until 2 months into your relationship. you have gave him a couple handjobs, gave him head a couple times. he’s more shy about what he does to you but he has always offered which you agreed. he was quick to offer to eat you out once before which you both enjoyed very much. the casual fingers in between your legs as you two watch a movie. jun was shy but he wasn’t scared to not do it.
he’s had sex before. that made you a little nervous but you were ready. you two were making out in your shared bedroom. his hands were on your hips as you started to grind against him. his hands are big against your waist. you are already drunk on your boyfriends touch. “you’re so pretty.” he says in between kisses. “j-jun.” you moan out as he starts to move your hips faster against him. you throw your head back in pleasure when he starts kissing your neck.
“jun- p-please i need you to fuck me.” he pulls away from your neck to look at you. “what- are you sure?” you nod as you grind against him harder. “y-yes junnie- i need you so bad- i’ve been thinking about it so much.” you look at him nervously. “fuck- i need you to but i want to make sure you’re 100% sure.” he holds your waist tighter as you continue to move. “i’m so sure- i want you so bad jun.” you moan as you feel him get harder underneath you.
“okay- tell me if you start feeling unsure.” he smiles at you as he pulls you to kiss him. he hands are touching you softly. the fabric of your underwear and your boyfriends sweatpants being the only thing keeping you from each other. “i’m g-gonna cum jun.” your moans get louder as he helps guide you against him. “yea? cum for me. you’re so good for me love.” his voice so close to your ear sending shivers down your spine. “j-jun.” you cry out as your legs lightly shake.
“i know angel, feels so good. let go for me.” he leaves open kisses against your neck and your jaw. you move your hips with juns hands a couple more times as you come undone. “feels so good angel.” he whispers into your neck as you slowly move through your high. “you’re the prettiest thing.” he smiles at you innocently.
“can you fuck me please j-jun?” you sigh as you start to climb off his lap.
“i’ll give you whatever you want my love.” he moves off the bed as you lay back. “you’re so perfect.” he moves your panties down your legs in a swift motion causing you to blush. “gonna make you feel so good. god i can’t believe this is all for me.” he kisses your thighs as he smiles softly at you. his hands snake to your thighs as spread your legs a little. you reach down to take off your white knee high socks that he got for you but he stops you.
“keep them on you look cute.” you smile and nod as you’re left in just your (his) loose t shirt and your socks. “you don’t even know how crazy you’re making me right now. i’m so hard.” all of that shyness that jun is usually full with is gone when you’re alone and now you’re under him? he’s surprised he hasn’t came in his pants yet. your look so beautiful to him.
“jun hurry- i’m impatient.” he leans down to kiss you quickly before pulling his sweatpants. he wasn’t wearing any underwear so he easily pulled them off his legs. he moved in between yours legs before looking up at you. “are you sure you want this?” you nod grabbing his arms. “i need you jun.” you smile to yourself as you look at your boyfriend. you mentally thank yourself for taking his shirt off him earlier.
“okay okay.” he smiles at you before lining up with you. you suck in a breath as you look down between you. you feel him slowly push in looking up at you. your face scrunches in pain as he stills. “you okay baby?” he kisses your face trying to comfort you. “y-yea just feels a little weird- keep going.” you sigh as you try to relax your body. he pushes in a little more still not bottoming out yet. you knew jun was big but him being inside you- he just felt so much bigger. you whine a little at the slow pace. jun pushes in fully finally bottoming out.
“tell me when baby. i don’t want to hurt you love.” you nod as your try to not focus on the pain. “j-jun i think you can move.” he kisses your lips again as he slowly starts to move his hips. “jun- feels- fuck so good.” you don’t even remember the pain you felt shortly before.
“f-fuck i know angel. you’re so t-tight.” he groans as you nod with his words. his thrusts are slow because he’s scared ro hurt you. “faster j-jun.” you moan as you spread your legs a little wider. “s-shit are you sure love?“ he looks down at you a little. “p-please.” his hips start to speed up making your body jolt more. he grabs the shirt you’re wearing pushing it up so he can see your chest.
“you’re so pretty- fuck you’re taking it so good.” he groans as he watches your tits bounce with his thrusts. “j-jun- oh my god-“ you throw your head back as his mouth attaches to one of your nipples. his thrusts are quick but he’s making sure to be gentle with you. “you look so pretty like this. i’m gonna cum- can i come on your chest? please.” you nod as you feel yourself get closer to coming.
“jun- r-right there. f-feels so good.” your eyes shut as you melt into the pleasure. you cum hard under your boyfriend with a loud moan. “j-jun-“ he kisses your cheek. “fuck- love i’m coming.” he leans down to pull you into another kiss as he pulls out of you. he strokes himself a couple more times before he’s coming all over your chest. you whine at the unfamiliar feeling. he smiles at you as he kisses you again. “are you okay angel?” he asks you as he grabs something to clean you with.
“j-jun i think- there’s blood.” you look at him in slight fear as you see red in between your legs. “angel- let me get a bath ready for us. are you okay?” he asks you as you cleans you as gentle as ever. “y-yea i don’t feel pain or anything just scared me.” he nods as he runs to the bathroom starting a bath for you. he quickly comes back to your side as he helps you into the bathroom. you admit to feeing a little sore.
“i’m so sorry angel- was i not being gentle enough?” he helps you take your remaining clothes. he helps you into the bath before he climbs in behind you. he rubs your back as you sigh into his touch. “jun- no you were perfect. it was all perfect i just scared myself.” you lean back into his chest as cups water over you.
“okay- let’s just relax for the rest of the night yea? i got you my love.” he smiles as he rubs your thighs softly. “jun- i love you.” you blurt out breaking the short silence. he looks at you shocked but his expression quickly changed to a very happy one. “i love you even more.” he kisses your head holding you close in his arms.
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tipsyleaf · 2 days
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The relationship between Violet and her mother since she’s an angsty teen now I feel would just worsen a little when she found out she was having a little brother. They were probably so close when she was little. It was already a little rocky (what teen girl didn’t have a rough patch with their mom at that age. Ik I did) but the addition of a new baby just means less attention for her. She was probably too young to process it when Cecilia was born cause she was little but being a teen and the idea of having a new baby must be rough. Especially as the months pass on and her mom tries to bridge the gap between them before he’s born, only thankfully it was fixed after he entered the world :)
(Oh it be so sweet conversation though. I can only imagine the moment they finally talk it out.)
It's late at night. You can't fall back asleep after waking up for Scottie's 2am feeding and you're down in the living room, watching TV in the dark. Violet comes out of her room to get water and sees her mother awake on the couch. She just walks past with her water bottle not saying anything at all and grabs water from the fridge. Moving to go back to her room you finally say something.
"Not even gonna say hi?" Violet stops as she's about to step into the hallway, looking over her shoulder and nods.
"Hi..."
"You wanna sit with me for a few minutes?" Violet nods again, walking over and sitting at the other end of the couch. This is the farthest she's ever been from you in a long time. The air is thick and tense as you both watch whatever you have on.
"You okay?" Violet takes a sip of her water, nodding again, but she won't look at you.
The silence fills the room again, making the TV way too loud to you as you start thinking.
"This reminds me of when you were 3..." You smile, finally getting her attention to look at you.
"You got so mad at your father for giving me kisses first before you when he got back from a work trip and you refused to talk to him for 2 hours."
"I don't remember that." She moves closer, curling up into your side. You put your arm around her and kiss the top of her head. Smelling her lavender scent with an even bigger smile.
"Of course you don't, you were too little... Are you mad at me?" Violet tenses up under your touch. You look down lifting her face up, her eyes meeting yours. Slightly damp.
"Not mad just... Left out." The realization hits you. Ever since the baby was born you'd been so preoccupied making sure Cecilia knew you still loved her and take care of Scott... You forgot that your oldest still needed reassurance, even at her age.
"Aw, sweet pea... I'm sorry." You hug her tightly, rubbing her back as she hugs you for dear life.
"It's okay."
"No it's not. You deserve time with me... I know you sure as hell need a break from your father... He's so far up your ass he could tell you what your insides look like." She chuckles, smiling for the first time in a while as you kiss her forehead.
"Can we spend time together?"
"Of course honey! If you want to spend time with me or ever just need me we please tell me. I grew up with grandma and I'm thankful for her but she smothered me... So I thought giving you space was the right idea. I guess I gave you too much."
You sit back, continuing to rub her back as she relaxes into your side, thinking about anything and everything you could do together.
"Okay... How about instead of you doing daddy daughter day with your sister you come out with me? You always look so miserable when you come home from those."
"Ah... We always do such... Kiddie stuff. It's boring but I just can't tell Dad."
"Well, we can do more adult stuff together... Like, get a Mani Pedi... Go shopping, eat and maybe a movie? Would you like that?"
"I'd like that a lot actually... Thanks."
"Of course baby. Anything for you." You hug her tight again, squeezing her to you as she groans.
"Mommy please, I can't breathe." You let her go, smiling and holding her at arms length.
"Did you just call me Mommy?!" She looks embarrassed for a moment.
"Felt right... Just don't tell Dad or neither of us will hear the end of it."
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mysadblacksoul · 2 days
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Backslide - 3/13 of the Clancy album
Grab a coffee and let's start this madness
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MV
Tyler is wearing the same clothes that he wore in Overcompensate MV to I would assume that this MV takes place right after
Let's break down the signs first
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We see the return of Ned Bayou as well as FPA, now standing for Food Petrol Etc.
You can buy 9 buns for $21, love the symbolism
There is a Jim sign omg. Baby is having his own bubblegum business
Of course the Bishops sign with 9 lines marked on it
I could've sworn that the black sign says "Dema Vapes", but looking closely I believe it's "Velma Vapes" lol
What is more, the cones (?) are yellow and I'm pretty sure that the fact that there are 5 of them is not an accident
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They sold him bread that went bad lol. Nah for sure it's not the case since he gives the same bread to a child
But I believe that the scene and the lyrics are closely tied with Stressed Out
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Now the next scene is interesting
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I think that the bad weather is a simple metaphor for feelings of anxiety or fear
We can see that Tyler was contemplating then he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts
This is when the scene changes to normal, right? Exactly on the line It's over my head
Then we move to the scene with the kid
And I really believe that this little lad is personification of Ned
Like he has the same boba eyes lol
No but for real, this is parallel to Chlorine - kid is giving Tyler a cup just like Tyler gave to Ned. Yet he accepts it and drinks whatever is inside and Ned just shudders
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Another interesting thing, that could make my point more valid is that the kid literally asks Is that a stain? You should change / Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? like he knows Tyler very well and is in a way looking out for him
It's like he's keeping Ned by him - okat I'll stop
It might be a stretch, but the N kinda looks like a mirrored band symbol, do you also see it?
If 0.75c is equivalent to the cost of one bun than Tyler is being ripped off since he paid $21 for the pack instead of $6.75 lmao
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Something is really wrong with those buns lmao
Then the mood changes again, but this time is even worse. Like his mental health is declining even more and even faster
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The bread is wet, the day is ruined, thanks Mr. Joseph
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You killed it Josh, love your creative mind
*funny music stops*
Now let's talk about the way how the MV is looping itself
I would say that it is a demonstration of the twisted circle that is life
Maybe it's a very basic analysis but I think of all the complicated lore-oriented MVs this one is uncomplicated
What is shown here is how our psyche can play tricks on us and how we can complicate a rather simple situation ourselves
If Tyler hadn't had dark thoughts then nothing would have happened to the bread, so he would have just gone and given it to Josh
This shows how our psyche itself can abolish the situation in which we find ourselves
Looping, on the other hand, shows that as long as we don't do anything about it ourselves, we will be stuck in this fishbowl (see what I did there?)
Maybe it's one big AD to check your mental health and a sign to try to get better
Lyrics!
Rat race, place to place, adding weight / Tendencies on repeat, innit? - rat race for sure happened in Dema, and repeat is literaly the loop, innit meand that Clancy is canonicaly British
Benefit from a shoe with no lace - shoe with no lace would make you fall back on the behaviour that you are running from
Take the seat with the crease in it - seat of someone who already tried to change their life, or even who had the same dreams and hopes for better future like Clancy
This could be parallel to When I leave, don’t save my seat/ I’ll be back when it’s all complete from Chlorine
I don't care, you control me / Leading me anywhere - well, all I should say is Dema don't control me and we all know the rest of the story
I don't wanna backslide to where I've started from - he doesn't wanna go back to his back habits as well as doesn't wanna go back to his life before he tried to escape
There's no chance I will shake this again - if he falls back one more time that will be the end of him. His psyche won't take it anymore and his plans will be buried
'Cause I feel the pull, water's over my head - this is parallel to Fall Away And I, I can feel the pull begin. But it also gives me the parallel to Holding On To You MV, the scene with the rope
Strength enough for one more time - like I said, this would be the last attempt to change everything
Reach my hand above the tide - it could indicate that his physical strength is also wearing out
I'll take anything you have / If you could throw me a line - again with the line. But it also can mean that he can endure anything now, he just needs a little helping hand
I should've loved you better - this line can be directed both to himself but also to the person who extends his hand to help. He might not have appreciated both parts before and now regrets it
Do you think that now's the time / You should let go? - This line is like both a request and an apology. As if he wants to say “I'm sorry I treated you badly before but please don't leave me when I need help”
Bad place, on a hundred-dollar bass - this line is also giving me Stressed Out. You can imagine the cheap bass being transported on the bicycle right?
Kinda wishin' that I never did "Saturday" - I think that he doesn't mean the MV irl lol, but the regret of taking part in Bishops' manipulation altogether
Is that a stain? You should change - a play with mentioning Saturday and the lirycs She said that I should change my clothes
Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? - like I said before I believe that this is Ned looking out for Clancy, wishing him well
Thanks for asking, in a way, but / Accidentally uncovered a new one yesterday - safe to say that he is not doing better lol
What happened to what I brushed under the rug? - what happened to how well he used to be able to hide his problems and true feelings
I used to be the champion of a world you can't see / Now I'm drowning in logistics - if viewed as a fact that he created this world it now looks like he wants to regain all control over it. Logistics is to take care of the management of planning. And once again we see the mention of drowning
The bridge is acting as an externalization of his myhs and fears that even if he is outside the Dema, the Bishops will still have control over him
The entire song is about both regaining conrol over the world of Dema but also regaining control over himself, his psyche.
The main theme is about not going back to old habits.
The most important thing here is progress and pushing forward.
Because one wrong move can make all the work in vain and we will sink to the very bottom.
Safe to say that I liked it haha
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sparrowrye · 2 days
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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 3
Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?
Previous part
Part 3: missing time
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"Please don't be upset," I begged Reagan.
"I'm not!" She sounded too chipper as she stepped up onto the newly finished porch. Alastor and Husker were talking a few paces behind us. I noticed Alastor's attention focused heavily on the expanded haven. He had yet to know how much more there was than what he could see.
Reagan left the front door open and skipped the stairs two at a time. I let out a sigh as I walked over to the broken frame on the living room floor. I knelt down and casted the glass together, melting them in place and refurbishing the wood frame.
I placed it back in its rightful place as Alastor walked in. His cane tapped the floor as he crossed the room. He looked different than how I remember him, somehow. His features seemed sharper and the air about him was different. Or maybe it was because it has been too long since I last stood in the same room as him.
"I would love to hear what happened in my absence." He gently gripped my fingers and placed a kiss on the back of my hand. "We now have all the time in the world."
"Mère?"
Alastor turned sharply at the French word for mother. Standing at the base of the stairs was Nym and Thatcher. Their hands were clasped firmly together and Thatcher hid slightly behind his older sister.
"Who is he?" Nym asked Reagan, who stepped into view from the stairs.
Ah, this was why she had been chipper.
"Who are they?" Alastor hissed. "How do they know that word?"
"I taught it to them," I said calmly, walking over to the young pair.
"How do you know that word?"
"One of your books." I knelt down beside Nym and Thatcher and held out my clawed palm. They habitually placed a free hand on it. "This is Mr. Alastor, my dears. He is my soulmate."
Their eyes turned to him, uncertain and unsettled. I didn't blame them. His appearance wasn't a kind one, even though gentlemanly, and it made me think back to when we first met in the alley. How long ago was that? Twelve years?
"Quite a pleasure to meet you two." His free hand touched his chest as he gave a very short bow of his head. He made no move to come near them.
I stood up and let Thatcher clasp his sister's hand again. Nym suddenly looked up at me and asked quietly, "I thought we didn't like him."
My eyes immediately went up to Reagan. She grimaced before meeting my intense stare. "I told them my feelings about him when they asked." She held up her hands in pretend surrender.
"We'll speak later." I knelt down again to be level with Nym. "He has been gone for a while and we weren't sure when he was coming back. But we do like him."
That last sentence felt strange, almost forced. I pushed off my knee and asked Reagan to make them breakfast. She silently obliged in an effort to get back on my good side. I didn't blame her for her feelings towards Alastor, but I did blame her for involving the two youngest family members in matters like this.
I noticed Lucas waiting at the top of the stairs. I thanked him for giving us space and let him walk into the kitchen to help Reagan. He gave a curt nod to Alastor who didn't return the gesture.
He put his cane behind his back, claws gripping it dangerously tight. "I see you've filled the house with new souls."
"I had to fill the void after you left." The comment made his ears nearly flatten. I stood an arm's length from him and stuffed my hands in my pants pocket. Still in my plain night clothes, I felt oddly out of place in front of him in his usual suite and bow tie.
My anger and hurt lingered, and something told me it was going to stay that way for awhile.
"I wasn't expecting you to..." he trailed off in an effort to find the words.
"To create a family?" I offered.
"I suppose that's a way to put it."
I could feel our bond had already reattached itself. Yet it wasn't the same as it had been before. I still couldn't hear his thoughts and his feelings felt far away. Even so, I felt an ugly emotion hidden somewhere inside him.
Husker, Charlie, and Vaggie came to the rescue a moment later. They too had mixed feelings of his return but Charlie seemed the happiest out of all of us. The tension between Alastor and I felt tight enough for a knife to slice right through it.
"Come see what we've done with the place." Charlie urged him out the door. I let her take him out of the house and went to talk to Reagan.
****
Alastor walked absentmindedly behind Charlie. None of this had happened the way he had expected.
He certainly wasn't expecting his soulmate to be angry with him. He had been hoping she would be grateful, relieved, and happy to see him physically back in this realm. Although, he should've expected some type of negative reaction given her sensitive nature.
Which seemed to have faded quite a bit.
He wanted to know more and fast. She went through a serious amount of change, as much as the haven, and he wanted to get to know every inch of her new personality. Why couldn't time move faster?
He would need to have a discussion with her regarding the two new children, as well. He never liked children, which was odd given that he started to fall for his soulmate when he saw her tender love towards them, and having them under the same roof as him made something prickle uncomfortably under his skin.
The haven had turned into a city. He was shocked to see stores, restaurants, apartments, and more. They had progressed in such a short timeline, shorter than he'd ever seen a group of people do. He wondered about the community. He could see Demons and Humans alike being friendly towards each other as he walked down the street.
How close was everyone? How communal were they? How did they resolve disputes with greater numbers? The answers to these questions and more wouldn't come until he spent time around this city.
He had never been bothered by the vastly growing civilizations, cities, or towns in previous centuries. Even in Hell it never bothered him to see construction complete a project within a couple months or years. He had always been an observer, a journalist, and information gatherer.
However, this time he actually felt left behind. It made his smile turn ugly.
The stares and slightly more crowded streets further down didn't go unnoticed. He could hear the shocked whispers and the quick explanations from parents to children of his persona. It soothed his pride to know these people were aware of his reputation, as well as his connection with their great protector.
Dragon Demon, hm? he noted to himself. Certainly better than Snake Demon.
Finally—finally—Charlie finished chatting closer to noon and allowed him to return to the house. He caught sight of the two children running down the hill. They casted worried glances at him as they passed.
If Reagan was bothersome, he could only imagine what those two must be like in the house.
Vaggie, Reagan, and Lucas said goodbye as soon as we heard Alastor walk in. Husker remained behind with me, tail wrapped several times around my own, as Alastor's red figure came into the kitchen. I felt more on his level now that I was adorned in my usual dress pants and light colored top.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"Of what?" He placed his cane in front of him, claws folded over and gripping the red cover.
"The haven."
He turned his head as if viewing it from here. "It's grown an impressive amount."
There was an awkward silence between the three of us. I wanted to spew everything at him. I wanted to talk nonstop, to explain everything that has happened, to tell the finest details.
But there was a piece of me holding back. Not with the words, but with actions and emotions. Hurt was still an overwhelming feeling despite his explanation of his disappearance.
"Why the children in the house?" he suddenly asked.
"Nym and Thatcher?"
He nodded. His smile was showing his teeth.
"They were trouble cases. I grew attached the more I worked with them and the house was too empty."
"Do you intend to keep them as you've done with Reagan?"
"You hate children?" I inquired.
"You could put it that way," he lifted a single claw and let it tap back on his microphone.
"That was something else I didn't know," I said slowly, "But yes, I intend to let them stay. At least until they're older."
His movement made me jump, quickly moving from his spot at the counter to right beside me, hand extended. "Perhaps you should tell me more. I would love to hear what has happened."
I looked between his eyes and his claw. It felt like a dream still, like I was going to wake up feeling even more crushed by his absence. Husker tightened his grip around my tail, seemingly grounding me in reality.
Surely this was real.
He lifted one eyebrow. He's trying.
I placed my black claw in his palm and watched as his red claws slowly encased my hand. His skin felt tough yet smooth and his claws were smooth and cool to the touch. A zip of energy bounced between us, making our hearts race higher than normal.
It felt like he was being incredibly careful. He wasn't really pulling me—more like guiding me—to the bright living room. I wasn't fragile but it seemed that was how he was treating me.
My protest fell short when he brought me over to the couch. He sat down so we were facing each other but I made sure to keep an inch of distance between us. Husker sat on the chair closest to the window, his presence not going unnoticed by his master.
Alastor hadn't let go of my hand. He rested his cane on his lap and locked eyes with me. A single claw gently rubbed the back of my hand.
"I have been waiting to hear your voice. Please, enlighten me about the past eight years."
My mouth opened but no words came out. I had wanted to tell him about everything but when the opportunity fell at my feet, I was silent. So much had happened, where did I even begin? It felt awkward, too, sitting there with his full attention on me. He felt familiar yet strange. Why was this such a problem?
I casted a glance to Husker for help but he wasn't willing. His tail whisked about his feet as he leaned forward on his knees for the sake of his wings. When I looked back to Alastor, his smile seemed strained, if not nervous.
"Perhaps a look into your memories would suffice? At least to start," he offered. I nodded without thinking. It was too late to reject the offer as his mind gently but firmly melted with mine.
I tried to block off a few memories but that seemed to alarm him. He tried pressing for those memories and when he couldn't get through, he looked at the events around it.
"You made a deal with someone?" he demanded, suddenly pulling out of my mind. My ears pinned at his tone. "Who?"
My mouth did the thing again. I clasped my claws tightly together and hugged my tail suffocatingly around my leg. My eyes glanced up to Husker for aid.
Alastor turned sharply to his servant. His gaze wasn't questionable — it was murderous intent. He stood abruptly and slammed his cane loudly on the floor. Husker's eyes went wide, fur stood straight up, and claws dug into anything he possibly could to give himself momentum.
He lunged for freedom but it was no use. Alastor barely lifted a claw to send him choking to the ground, tentacles pinning his limbs to the hard floor. I jumped in front of Alastor and grabbed hold of his hand, my magic attacking his own.
He let go of Husker and instead grabbed my arm in return. His magic bolted through me too fast and without warning to put up any proper boundaries. I felt exactly where he was searching, and right as he found his answer, my cell phone started to ring.
He withdrew from my mind as his head slowly turned towards the front door where the phones lay hidden in a drawer. He stared for a moment, the house utterly quiet except for the horrid ringing that felt like the seal of my death.
His eyes found mine out the corner of his eye. "You have ten seconds to explain the confines of this arrangement." His grip was crushing my wrist.
"I-I...I'm...I defend Vox's stations and he...he promotes the Haven. He's not allowed...to go...he can't come into the Haven at all. Physical or technological."
He was silent for a moment.
His eyes were staring at me, his head still turned away but single eye locked with both of mine. The phone had finally silenced and now all that could be heard was Husker's ragged, scared breathing and the ticking of the clock on the mantle.
I gently pulled my hand towards my chest and he let go. He said, "Last I remember you refuse to make deals with anyone."
"I made deals with you," I reminded softly.
"Aside from me."
I looked down at my claws. "Things changed. I needed to find ways to keep the haven safe."
"And giving your soul to Vox was going to do that?" he shouted, spinning to face me.
"Yes!" My head snapped up at the aggression. "Promoting the Haven meant we could have more people to defend it and more people to believe it's important enough to leave alone. It also keeps Vox on our side rather than against. He's a pain in the ass to deal with but he has the resources."
Alastor's snarl grew.
"Besides, I didn't give my soul to him. It was a soul binding contract for both parties."
His shoulders lowered at that. He casted his eyes to the side in thought. I reached down to help Husker back up to his feet. I gave him a reassuring squeeze on the paw and let him disappear out the kitchen door, leaving Alastor and I alone.
He had one hand on his cane and the other covering his eyes when I turned back to him. His antlers were still big, meaning he was incredibly frustrated still.
"I'm sorry." I kept an arm's distance between us. "I did what was needed to survive."
Gaze still casted away, he withdrew his hand from his face and held it out to me. I calmed my shaking before place my hand in it. He pulled me close then let go of my hand to put it on the back of my head. He pressed his lips to my forehead and took a slow, long, deep breath.
His antlers shrunk back to their normal size.
"I'm sorry," I said again.
"I've missed so much time with you," he mumbled against my skin.
"We live for centuries. There's still time." I tried for a lighter tone.
He let out another breath. "I suppose you are right."
I flicked one ear up. "Say that again."
"Say what?" He pulled away to meet my eyes. Was he always this much taller than me?
"You never say that. Say it again."
His eyes stilled as he thought to the conversation. His realization was obvious when he lifted his eyebrows. "No."
"Say I was right. Say it again." I stepped closer so I was invading his personal space even more so.
"No." He moved his claw from the back of my head to my face and gently pushed me away.
"But it was so sweet of you," I laughed and pulled his hand off.
The phone rang again. I grimaced as he turned his head like an owl to stare at it.
"Maybe you'd like to see your old pal again?" I offered, "He's been obsessed about your return."
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Author's Note:
oooooOOoooOooOOoooO
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Taglist:
@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall
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himezoro · 4 hours
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Hello!! Could you please do what it would be like to date Luffy?? He's my favorite character and I loved your Zoro headcanons!!
— tysm for requesting !! i've recently came back from my trip and still recovering from my mental breakdown lol, so writing for luffy aka my son is all i need <3 i hope it brings you joy and light ⋆˙⟡♡ i have other requests in my box and i promise to do them all, i won't let you down !!
ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ : monkey d luffy's guide to relationship (check out roronoa zoro's guide here and here if you're interested)
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dating monkey d luffy would include :
endless, countless and heartfelt laughters. luffy is an outgoing and fun person to be around. he's always having fun on the way of making his dream come true, making each day bright and sunny. he won't be trying that hard to make their s/o laugh, his authenticity, fearlessness and lack of danger estimation would do to the trick. but expect him to yell his s/o's name everytime he pulls a prank or tests his flexibility by making funny faces. if his s/o happens to be sad, he would also try his best to cheer them up by first, making them laugh to forget about their worry. when in bed with his s/o, he would let soft and intimate laughs escape his throat when talking to them or listening to their stories. laughing is an intimate and loving act according to luffy's guide.
physical touch. luffy's a sucker for hugs, tender gestures and pdas!! he has no shame hugging his friends like a koala, but with his s/o?? they would barely be able to breath lmao. luffy would sleep with his arms fully wrapped around his s/o's back, with his chin on the top of their head, sometimes, he would sleep on top of them with his whole weight just to show "how much he loves them", or with his head on their lap. with luffy's, their s/o is always at arms length thanks to his ability, much to his delight. the boy's clingy, but so adorable and natural about it. however, if their s/o needs some space, luffy would understand, although a bit saddened, so expect him to ask for a hug when they're ready. if their s/o really hates physical touch, it would be difficult for luffy to adjust (he's just a big soft plushie please take care of my baby)
receiving random compliments at random times. luffy's very honest and genuine, and even though he lacks real communication skills, he never lies. therefore, if he sees their s/o with a new outfit and he finds it nice, he will vocalize it in his words. "your coat is brown like a juicy steak, it looks tasty! you should wear it more often", "your hair looks like a cloud this morning", "your eyes sparkle like lasers!!".
him being involved in his s/o's hobbies/occupations. luffy is naturally curious. people often feel like he is pestering and "in the way", which can hurt his feelings, but he is genuinely interested in his friends' activities. he has so much admiration for them. but with his s/o? luffy would not only pester and ask what they're doing, he would also be trying to learn alongside them, with stars in his eyes. if their s/o's a fighter and fighting with a particular weapon or style, luffy would sit quietly and watch for some time, clapping his hands and feet at any random movements from their body, before joining and mimicking. if their s/o was reading or doing anything more intellectual or academic, luffy would sit by them, his arms crossed on the table and his head on top and listen to them talk and tell about what they're learning. if his s/o is patient and pedagogical, he would be so happy and confident enough to ask questions. he will then brag to usopp and chopper about his recent learnings with confidence and pride, saying how "(your name) taught me!!" (he will also turn around to his s/o to check if what he's saying is correct). it is very important for luffy to know what his s/o is doing and what they like, and for them to share their activities together. because on luffy's part, this boy would include his s/o in every single thing, even on shenanigans with usopp and chopper if they'd like.
hungry kisses and messy makeout sessions. the first kiss with luffy was soft, quick and intimate: a simple peck on the lips. also, at the beginning of the relationship, they were few, as the captain is more of a hugger. however, when his s/o would explain luffy that kisses could involve tongue, dear lord. luffy got insatiable. with his first french kiss, the move of his tongue got so messy he let some drool escape from his lips, trailing out from his s/o's lips. he also accidently bit his s/o's bottom lip so hard it stayed swollen for a couple of days. luffy would take note on his s/o's preferences and always surprise them with that one kiss that would leave them out of breathe and shaky. during make out sessions, not only his tongue would be insatiable, but his hands as well. this boy cannot stand still, he would trail his hands all over his s/o's body, especially the inside of their thighs or their ass. oftenly, after pulling away from his lips, he would look at his s/o's eyes and say "more" before diving in again.
aside from the messy kisses from heated and hungry make outs, luffy's kisses are always spontaneous and playful. he's hanging from the chandelier with his legs around it? he'll grow his head down just he can peck his s/o's lips. his kisses are never calculated or protocolar, they're just like his sweet personality. he would try to kiss you when you eat to "taste your food", claiming that it tasted better.
learning to communicate. luffy is not a complete moron, but his communication skills and social awareness may not be the best. their s/o will have to use patience in order to have a meaningful conversation about their intimate feelings or their relationship in general. luffy is a good listener to his s/o, however, his responses are not always fitting to the matter at hand, sometimes even immature. nevertheless, luffy is a willing person, especially with his s/o. he would try his best providing more fitting responses to his s/o's matters and expressing his needs as well, especially if he feels he has been saddened by their behaviour.
entrusting him and reassuring him. of course, luffy is a confident person, not only in his skills, but also in his dream of being the King of the Pirates. however, if their s/o does not vocalize their trust in his dream, skills or character, luffy would be saddened and pouty. it could trigger his jealousy. he is the captain of a fantastic crew with fantastic people and he feels entrusted with that role, but the one trust and validation he needs is from his s/o. if their s/o compliments him or refer to him as "future King of the Pirates", he would be beaming so hard and brag about it a little.
having a number one fan and devoted partner. luffy loves all of his crewmates and would do anything for them. but his s/o is special. he would always cheer them up, be their cheerleader, talk about them at any given times (a little like tom holland with zendaya lol), protect them from the smallest ant, raise them high. he will always stand for them. if his s/o's in danger, the smallest hint of common sense hidden in his brain gets completely lost and he goes feral. he won't let anything happen to his s/o, before letting anything happen to his dream. his dream is with their s/o: there's no Pirate King with his s/o, no matter what. losing his brother already broke his heart, and he knows losing his s/o will hurt the same, so he does not let anything happen to them. <3
he's the definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, but i feel like he would rather eat from your plate than giving you his lmao. he won't mind sharing with you, but he would enjoy stealing food from your plate.
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rebouks · 2 days
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-- anon
I'm sorry, but what kind of accent does Ivan have? He's the only sim who speaks that way and now that he's more in focus, I can't help but wonder where he comes from! Also, while I'm at it, I've also noticed that you stay loyal to the Sim world ("speaking in Tartosan" "a Tartosan goddess", etc), and while it's obvious that Tartosa was based on Italy and Spain, do you imagine your characters being from real countries and with distinct cultural backgrounds?
hmmm idk that he really has an accent as such, it's more that he speaks more loosely/common than every one else. i don't really have voice claims or any real countries to pin these pixels to cos they're sims u kno, it'd probs get messy if i started tying things to irl and not others.. so nah, other than rough stuff like vaguely japanese for mt. komo or italy for tartosa i don't pin em to real places ig you could use my northern english accent as an example tho, like my mom is pretty well spoken but still northern right? so she pronounces her t's n shit but my accent is way more common and i drop all mine to a ridiculous extent (if i was to write butter or water the way i'd say it it's practically unreadable lol.. like bu'uer? bUHer?? idk lmao) so Ivan probs speaks like me tbh.. Tommy, Rhys and a couple others speak that way too and Oscar does when he's drunk
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-- @zosa95
For Bryatt!
Disagreements: How often do they argue/disagree? ehhh probs not a lot, i can't imagine Wyatt engaging in pointless arguments, he'd just walk off lmao
Sex: Who moans the most? Brynn..
Family: Who changes the diapers? mostly Brynn
Family: Who gives their children ‘the talk’? idk ig with Ellis it'd be Wyatt but it'd be like "wrap it up n' pee" so i can see Brynn adding to that 😆 all Brynn if they have a girl tho
Affection: Who gives the most kisses? Brynn!
Sleeping: Who wakes up with bed hair? Wyatt.. u know Brynn has pictures of that shit
Home: Who does the groceries? Wyatt.. gotta make sure actual food is in the house u kno
Miscellaneous: Who kills the spiders around the house? no one.. lil spider did no one any harm 🕷
Miscellaneous: What do they tease each other about? hmm idk if they tease each other all that much tbh, they're playful but not at each other's expense u kno
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-- @akitasimblr
hello becca! for salton, pleeeeeeease <33
Who is on top? Sid most the time lmaooo.. let's face it, Alton be lazy n' submissive
Ever had sex in public? a couple times
Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? in between? mostly the latter
Where is the strangest place? probs a broom cupboard or smth at uni idk lmao 😆
thanks!!!
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-- anon
I know you don't do WCIF but would you mind sharing the creators you like most for male sim clothes? I struggle to clothe my guys a lot and I noticed you have a huge cast of male sims, so I was wondering. My bad if this sort of ask is unwelcomed too tho
but.......... skjdskj idk darte77 and gorillax3 are prolly good places to start or u kno.. google
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-- @akitasimblr
hello becca!!! one more extra i wish to know of: well, a couple now, rickey love and patrick harvey :) a) where are they living now? b) what do they do for a living? c) any chances of seeing them again in fib (or their daughter...??)? thank youuuu!
ohhhh idk.. i think the whole point of em, as sad as it may be, is that Oscar n them lost touch n they kinda fell off the face of the earth u kno? a price Oscar paid for his choices ig never say never tho! and we'll see 'em again when i eventually get round to doing a uni flashback for Oskie so yay! 🤸‍♀️
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag
A set of 20 questions to get to know your OC! ty for the tag @dandylion240 @hannahssimblr @sirianasims & anyone else i forgot <33
ROBINNNNNNN 🧡
What uncommon/common fear do they have? that Oscar will disappear off into his confusing world of horribleness Robin doesn't fully understand yet ;-;
Do they have any pet peeves? not rlly.. pretty hard to piss the guy off
What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? headphones - cameras - letters ^^
What do they notice first in a person? their thoughts 👀🧠
On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? idk.. 4/5? i imagine he's kinda used to feeling other ppls pain as well as his own but he's still a baby ;-;
Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? FIGHT!
Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? yeeeeah.. he likes some quiet time now n then but he loves his family sm 🤗
What animal represents them best? fuck if i know.. a fly on the wall? lmao
What is a smell that they dislike? stinky younger sibling diapers
Have they broken any bones? not yet.. somehow
How would a stranger likely describe them? weird.. QUIET
Are they a night owl or a morning bird? night owl.. it's peaceful when everyone's asleep 💤
What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? cilantro/coriander - pastries
Do they have any hobbies? photography - pissing around in the sea/on his bike/in whatever he shouldn't - writing to Alex - SPYING ON PPL
Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? u can't surprise the lil guy.. i dare u to try
Do they like to wear jewelry? yeah ig as much as a kid does.. string stuff, friendship bracelets or w/e
Do they have neat or messy handwriting? kinda messy.. maybe it'll be neater later
What are two emotions they feel the most? intrigue & overwhelmed
Do they have a favorite fabric? he said he doesn't care
What kind of accent do they have? ✨imaginary pixel land accent✨
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and ty to anyone who's sent me any love trains recently <33333 ily all sm but i got overwhelmed the more i let pile up in my inbox so i deleted everything so i could breathe again 🙈
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changingplumbob · 2 days
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Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 3
Battle of the century or kids playing console games...
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CW: Unicorn zombie with minor carton gore
Carson: You don’t think this will be too physically taxing do you
Artemisia: Only for losers
Onyx: Don’t worry Carson, there’s no exercise required
Fergus: I dibs the green car
Onyx: Is everyone ready
Artemisia: Oh would you just press start already
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Onyx: First round goes to me!
Artemisia: That’s ridiculous, you must have given me the broken controller
Carson: Or you’ve been practicing, I get to pick next track. Strawberry Fields!
Fergus: Oh no I hate that one, I always get stuck in the strawberry jam
Onyx: Just follow along behind me Fergus and you’ll see a clear path okay
Fergus: Thank you Onyx
Artemisia: I always think it’s so funny how well-mannered you are
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Carson: I would have thought you’d find that annoying
Artemisia: Nope, it helps us get out of trouble
Onyx: So see here Fergus, if you go between these two flowers there’s the fast launch ramp
Fergus: And no strawberry jam sinkhole!
Artemisia: Hold on, you’re not entitled to win
Fergus: Just try and stop me Emi
Carson: Come on Artemisia, let’s wipe the track with them
Onyx: Team Pancakes!!!
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Kayleigh: I like to hear them play, the house is so quiet with just Carson now
Eliza: Bob and I have been thinking of trying for another one after Fergus becomes a teen. Bob would love a daughter
Kayleigh: And how about you
Eliza: Well I’ve never loved being pregnant but a third kid would be nice
Kayleigh: Sweetie I don’t mean to sound indelicate but have you considered adoption
Eliza: Adoption? Is that legal when I can get pregnant?
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Kayleigh: It’s the 21st century, just because you can have them doesn’t mean you need to. Not that I can talk, I had four
Eliza: I suppose that way I would avoid the pregnancy impacting on my work
Kayleigh: And if Bob wants a girl you can tell the agency that, but you can’t tell your uterus that
Eliza: *chuckles* Good point, I’ll think about it. Oh, would you excuse me? The markets just opened in Tomarang
Kayleigh: Go ahead, you’ll not beat me at this chess match anyway
Eliza: Thanks for helping me learn more
Kayleigh: No problem, I’ll collect my husband and get out of your hair. Night
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Kayleigh: Come on Carson, time to go
Carson: Just let us finish this last race mum
Artemisia: Oh it’s finished and I’m victorious
Fergus: Thanks again for helping me Onyx, I had a lot of fun. See you for my birthday Emi?
Artemisia: Sure thing, Tuesday right
Fergus nods excitedly and the dinner party disperses.
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Happy very cloudy Halloween! The Pancakes decide not to have a party since they had one last night and Bob will need to work tonight. After a quick breakfast the household splits up as everyone has their own tasks to do this morning.
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Bob of course wants to get his work out in before shift. Fergus is in a patch of hyper focus with his ADHD and decides to play mad scientist in the treehouse. Eliza decides to do a dance workout since she cleaned everything yesterday and finally Onyx is set to walk Ginger again.
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Eliza is dancing away when she pulls a muscle in her back.
Eliza: Ouch! Oh, maybe an adoption is a good idea, I will be a 40 soon
Thinking on this she carries on, working on her other muscles. Outside it’s hard for Onyx and Ginger to make out where they’re running but the pair do their best. Ginger isn’t sure why her dad isn’t taking her for these jogs but supposes Onyx is an alright substitute.
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Onyx: I’m back home dad, Ginger is all walked
Bob: *grunts with effort* Did you tell your mother
Onyx: No, she’s busy practicing speech and I didn’t want to disturb her
Bob: Smart choice
Onyx begins their cheer routine, they still have some more solo practice to fit in. All is going well until they fall over on their face. They push up looking around but Bob is busy working his legs and hasn’t noticed. To celebrate Onyx pulls off a perfect flip!
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Previous ... Next
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clawbehavior · 2 days
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zero context WIP game! thanks for the tags @killerandhealerqueen and @fourth-quartet 🥰🥰
i'm playing fast and easy with the rules of this one (which you can find here). instead, you'll find numbered snippets from a bunch of WIPs i am 75-90 per cent done but ambivalent about which to update first. gahan readers, what interests you most?
--
1. even gods can't change the past
gaon stares listlessly at the stickers lining the base of the night lamp. despite repeated disinfectings, they haven't come off, dinosaurs, trucks, sparkly muffins. things he had put there to make their hospital stay livelier. 
'i guess we're even now,' soohyun says, quiet and mostly to herself. 
gaon thinks for a while. 'chief jo?' he guesses. soohyun had a girlish fascination with her mentor that in turn made the normally gruff man go tongue tied. 
'what -- no. jishin,' she says as if this explains anything. when gaon looks over at his wife sitting on the bed beside him, she looks guilty, sad, and relieved. the guilt is most prominent. 
'what --' says gaon, having to swallow because his mouth is suddenly dry. 'are you talking about?'
----
2. unnamed modern strangers in a bar au
the stranger backs gaon up until he hits the brick wall behind them, none too gently. but the man pays no attention to this. he looks at gaon with desire both ferocious and unyielding. 
'this husband of yours,' says the stranger angrily, sliding his hands into gaon's thick hair and keeping them there. 'you talk about him like he walks on water but he's only a man.'
'he's my world,' replies gaon breathlessly, eyes fixed on the man's mouth. then the stranger is kissing him. 
---
3. omega spin-off of enantiomers
gaon spins in yohan's arms so they're back to chest, before sensuously dragging himself down yohan's front until he's crouched at yohan's feet. yohan's hands tighten around his when gaon looks up at him from the floor, smilingly and with heat. 
'that look is why i put a baby inside you the first time around,' yohan says, stroking gaon's hands. there's a hint of warning to his tone. and desperation. he can't be held responsible for what he does if gaon keeps this up. 
gaon laughs delightedly.
of course, that's when the bedroom emits a wail that filters down the hallway and into the living room.
--
4. everything everywhere all at once
soohyun's eyebrows go up in shock. 'you still love him,' she says accusingly. 'not just that -- you want to go back to him. your parents died because of kang yohan!' she yells this last part, stomping her feet in enraged helplessness. 
'good people die without good reason,' gaon replies, feeling his cheeks redden.
she looks at gaon like he's grown another head. 'are you listening to yourself right now? you'll forgive kang yohan, and for what? he broke your heart. you were devastated for weeks!'
'i'm not selfless, soohyun-yah. not like you,' gaon replies, voice cracking. he searches for the words, pulling them from deep inside him. 'after appa died, i kept the restaurant open to prove that i could. helping people came after. but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep dragging on like everything is normal when seeing how fucked up everything is is destroying me.'
soohyun visibly swallows her words, letting gaon finish. 
'i hurt,' gaon whispers, 'all the time. i'm so angry. it's like looking into an abyss but now it looks back at me. being with yohan makes me feel safe, like i'll survive this. like there's more to living than just pain.'
soohyun hunches over at the knees and hugs herself. 'why does it have to be kang yohan?' she says miserably.
'i don't know.' gaon approaches, choreographing his intent. he pulls her into a hug when she doesn't resist. 'it's fucked up. i'm fucked up but i miss him terribly.'
'what if he breaks your heart again?' she sniffles against gaon's chest, voice going flat with inevitability. 
'he might,' gaon admits, squeezing her in final consolation. 'but i'll go my whole life regretting it if i don't try.'
--
5. elevator troubles
‘bujangnim?’ gaon asks, knocking on the heavy wooden door for appearance’s sake before striding in. but yohan’s not there.
the sound of his harsh breathing fills the office. he makes his way over to where late afternoon sunlights spills through the floor to ceiling windows and stares at the traffic twenty stories below, tiny trucks and tinier people. 
he's livid. if he could, he would shatter every single window of this ministry building with the frequency of his rage.
a hand slips over his eyes, cooling their heat and blocking his vision. a body follows behind. 
‘shhh,’ rumbles yohan in gaon’s ear, moulding himself around gaon, silken wool and heat and support everywhere. his other hand lands on gaon's chest, over gaon's fast beating heart. 
gaon’s only reaction is a hitch in his breathing. his muscles remain tightly coiled, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
'he told me that my parents would be proud of me for doing the right thing,' gaon says with long pauses between into the red blackness. 'when he -- when he was the one who helped doh young choon --' he breaks off with a stifled sound, enraged.  
yohan's joyless chuckle rumbles through gaon's body. 'min jung ho is a viper.' his inflection doesn't change when gaon grabs his wrist. 'down to his venomous words.'
'what gives him the right,' gasps gaon, eyes turning wet with frustrated tears under yohan's palm. he presses back into yohan's body. 
'none,' says yohan simply. 'just as he has no right to dispense justice.'
'i want to hurt him, so, so badly,' gaon confesses, pulling yohan's hand away. 
‘we will,’ says yohan. 
future promises aren't enough. gaon whirls around. 'now, yohan.' he pushes the unresisting older man backwards until yohan's thighs hit the heavy oak table. 'i want to destroy him now.' 
---
6. my heart goes back to you, i just don't know
trigger warning, beware.
jung sunah pulls gaon’s face up with a fistful of silky, dark hair. gaon’s pupils are blown wide. yohan catches a peek of red tongue as gaon swallows, sweat beading along the younger man’s temple. yohan knows this expression from when he looked into the mirror all those weeks ago after jung sunah had ambushed him. 
she drugged gaon.
yohan watches with a foreboding feeling as jung sunah simply stares at gaon. the hunger on her face is…not good. she cocks her head, hand traveling to gaon’s panting mouth. yohan watches her fit two perfectly manicured fingers, nails painted rouge into the seam of gaon’s mouth; feels somehow worse when gaon doesn’t resist. 
‘he’s nothing! a means to an end,‘ barks yohan. he sounds affected because he is. he knows what’s happening here, what jung sunah is making him a bystander to.
she ignores this. ‘you know, i never liked giving blowjobs,’ she says conversationally. ‘they’re demeaning. the power differential is obvious. men enjoy it.’  she tilts gaon’s face up using the fingers in his mouth.
gaon pants heavily, eyelashes turning wet as he blinks slow and hard. ‘seeing kim pansanim on his knees makes me understand the appeal of it.’
‘is that why you brought him here?’ yohan asks, thinking quickly. ‘to get to me?’
‘you put your hand on his shoulder on live television,’ she replies in a faraway voice, but yohan can read her now.
--
tagging @technitango @tenderlywicked @rocknghorss @thedeviljudges @briwates @mid-n0vember @eyesof-kkomi feel free to pass ofc and if you are a writer who enjoys being tagged, lmk so i can include you in the future
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tgmsunmontue · 2 days
Text
Online & Anonymous 3/16
Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.
Odd year = Bradely's POV and Even year = Jake's POV
>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)
>>Jake chatting (italics)
2005/2006 2007
2008 – Jake
                Flight school.
                Four years at USNA and now he’s back in Texas, the familiarity seeping into him like a homecoming and part of him cannot believe he made it into flight school. Not that he’ll let anyone else think he had any doubt, but he is inwardly fist pumping, outwardly trying to pretend it’s no big deal. He doesn’t care if it comes off smug, he does feel a little smug, that he obviously good enough to have been selected. Damn it feels good. And also such a relief.
                He’s good enough.
                He wants to share it with Nick. Doesn’t of course. While he trusts Nick with pretty much every little piece of vulnerability when it’s related to his sexuality and experience in that arena, his career is shaping up to be another huge part of his identity and he doesn’t need help or guidance from a guy on a website on how to best work on this aspect of his life. He feels like he’s got this one. After a few months though he decides to share, in a vague way, because he’s been getting comments from his instructors.
                Approval.
                He’s doing well.
>>You ever accomplish something that people didn’t think you could do?
>>That even you maybe didn’t think you could do?
>>HA.
>>Yes.
>>Feels fucking amazing to prove them wrong.
                Jake grins at the screen, wants to tell him about how amazing it is, being in the air. How much he loves it, the rush of the pressure pushing him back into the seat as he takes off. The
>>I got into my first choice of programme. So yeah.
>>Does feel pretty good.
>>Well done. Proud of you.
>>Thanks.
>>Think you maybe need to believe in yourself more.
>>Maybe.
>>My parents didn’t.
>>Don’t.
                He hasn’t talked about his parents with Nick. Talking about your parents generally doesn’t come up when your jerking off with another guy online, but they talk about a lot of different stuff now and it fits with this right now. He feels like Nick might get it.
>>I came out to them and they kicked me out.
>>Oh shit. I’m sorry.
>>I mean, it’s not a competition but my parents are dead so I can understand that feeling of loss I guess? Like they should be around to support me, but they aren’t.
>>Sucks more for you I think. They’re alive and are just bigots.
>>I was lucky to already have a place to go.
>>I’m extra proud of you.
                Pensacola is a different beast than boat school, everyone seems to be a little smug that they made the cut to be there, and Jake lets himself absorb the culture. He tries sleeping with a woman only to find that he can apparently have worse sexual experiences than his first time with a man, and of course he finds himself messaging Nick.
>>Bad sex with a man is still preferable than bad sex with a woman.
>>You give in to peer pressure and hook up huh?
>>How did you know?
>>Been there, done that. Got the tshirt.
>>As a gay man I have to tell you that even bad sex with a man rates above mediocre sex with a woman.
>>Why do people care so much where you want to stick your dick?
>>I like that rhyme. And I have no fucking clue. Mystery. It’s not like gay people haven’t always existed.
>>I’ve got a friend, female friend, who knows I’m gay, and she let’s me use her as a beard sometimes. Everyone thinks we have an on-again off-again fuck-buddies type thing going on.
>>So you’re still not out to people.
>>Nope. Would make work impossible so I just –
>>Hide in plain sight.
>>Huh. I wonder if I could get one of my friends to cover for me.
>>A lot less women in the military. Good luck I guess?
>>Well. I think one of my friends might just lie for me. Tell others that he saw me leaving with a hot chick or something. He’s the best wingman.
                He stares at the message, wishes he could call it back.
                Delete it.
                It’s too close to home.
                Wingman.
>>Definitely need a good wingman if you’re planning on cruising. You got bigger balls then me if you’re going to try and do it while you’re not on leave.
>>Are you sure that’s safe?
>>It’s not like they’re following me and putting cameras in rooms. I just need to be careful. Although so not worth it most of the time. But it would be kind of nice to have the option if it did present itself.
>>Yeah, I’m sure guys are just falling into your lap in the military.
>>I mean, they might be and I’m just not picking up the signs. They’re probably so repressed they wouldn’t be any good anyway.
>>I’ll leave that for you to find out.
>>Not sure if I should be wishing you luck or telling you to be careful.
                Jake isn’t sure either. He probably not going to risk it.
…            …            …
                It’s not always possible for them to have instant communication. He gets interrupted sometimes, or Nick isn’t available for days at a time, sometimes weeks, and his own schedule is erratic. However he’s always had time, made time, to chat with him since they found each other and he doesn’t have so many close friends that he can afford to ignore one.
                “What are you always doing on your laptop?” Javy asks and Jake feels like time freezes around him for a split second. Javy is one of the few people he’d count as a friend, his easy-going nature dealing with Jake’s prickliness effortlessly, seemingly patient and just waiting for Jake to come around. They were at USNA together and it wasn’t until they shared all their third- and second-class summers together that Jake had thought that maybe they could be friends.
                “Talking with a friend. He travels a lot.”
                He feels like it’s not actually a stretch of the truth, because he’s figured out that Nick moves around, the times he can talk inconsistent, meaning different times zones. He’s always assumed that Nick is American, but now he knows that the website they’re using to chat is actually based in England, and for all he knows Nick could be anywhere in the world.
>>Are you American?
>>Will you stop talking to me if I say no?
>>Of course not.
>>I’m shaking my head at you. You’re meant to be all patriotic being a member of our military. Shouldn’t be communicating with the enemy.
>>You just called it our military. Pretty sure you’re American.
>>Caught out. Yeah. I travelled around a lot as a kid. Tennessee, California, Virginia, Maryland and even Texas. Who knows, we could have walked past each other and never even known.
>>Yeah. We could have. That would be a weird coincidence.
                “You know, if you ever want to tell me something, I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”
                Jake’s head snaps up so fast he’s surprised there isn’t an accompanying sound.
                “What?”
                “Just. Uh. I know if there was something, you can’t tell me. But if you did, and I’m not asking you to, but if you did, I wouldn’t be letting anyone else know. No telling on my part, that is.”
                He blinks.
                Holy shit.
                That’s pretty much Javy saying he knows, or at least suspects, that Jake is… something other than straight.
                “Just, once second. Just let me say bye…”
>>I think I’m about to come out to a guy who is my best friend in real life, because you’re my best friend in not-real life, plus we have sex and I do not want to ever have sex with J, but uh… I think I might be sick.
>>I’ll talk to you soon.
                His conversation with Javy goes around in circles for a little bit, Javy not willing to ask outright, and Jake unprepared to speak the truth; terrified to voice it. Then Javy gets fed up, places his hands on Jake’s shoulders and just stares at him, expression serious.
                “Jake. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother. There is nothing, nothing,” he stresses, “that would make me stop loving you as my brother and best friend. So, if in some hypothetical world you felt brave enough to tell me that you were… gay, then it wouldn’t change anything for me. I just. I got your back no matter what okay?”
                Jake can’t form words, grabs Javy into a tight hug, he’s biting his lip so hard it hurts, might even be drawing blood and he nods.
                “Thank you.”
                “Any time man. You want to go shoot some pool?”
                Jake lets out a shaky breath and nods again.
                They spend several hours together, in which Javy seems to want to really impress upon Jake that nothing is going to change between them. He still uses his body to shove Jake out of the way when he shows Javy up at pool, still slaps his ass in a vain attempt to distract him while playing darts, grabs them beers and doesn’t pull his fingers away when they accidentally brush like Jake is somehow going to take that as a sign of something more. He can have friends that know and they won’t hate him.
                It’s a revelation.
…            …            …
>>How did it go?
>>I’m kind of worried about you.
>>Hope you haven’t done anything stupid.
>>Or been beaten up.
>>Dishonorable discharge.
>>Fuck Jas, please tell me you’re okay.
                Jake stares at the flood of messages and feels touched, but also a little hysterical, because none of those worse case scenarios are going to happen. He trusts Javy with his life, he can definitely trust him with knowing.
>>I’m okay. Sorry.
>>It was fine. He had pretty much guessed and we talked about it. He’s the best.
>>After you.
>>Glad to know I haven’t been replaced.
>>I appreciated you for the orgasms.
>>Oh. Okay. Putting me back in my place.
>>Prefer you to put me in my place.
>>Really now? You in the mood huh?
>>Yeah.
>>Fuck. This is awful timing. I’ve got to leave in like five minutes.
>>Can’t take care of you like I want to.
>>That’s okay. You can go out and do what you need to do, and while you’re out you can think about me, jerking off as I type out what I want to do to you.
>>Unfair.
>>Hot though.
>>Shit. I’ve really got to go. I look forward to reading whatever you leave me.
                Jake grins, a little nervous. He’s gotten better at this, anything he does regularly for a few years becomes better, but he doesn’t know if it’s good. Not without Nick offering his constant feedback. He always finds what they talk about together the best, but Nick has left him plenty of messages that are just descriptions of what he wants and likes that Jake wants to return the favor.
>>I want to go down on you, suck you off until you come. I want to kneel in front of you and take my time, learn the taste and smell of you. The texture of your skin under my tongue and fingers.
>>I want to do it while I’m in my uniform, because that feels taboo you know? Want you to rub the head of your dick over my lips.
>>Want you naked so I can touch everywhere.
>>I start off slow, a little cautious because I want you to fuck my face, but we’re going to need to build up to that, stretch out my mouth and throat a little, let me gets used to the feel of you in my mouth and throat.
>>I really want to do this. I’m hard just thinking about it. Like the idea of your hand on my head, just guiding me, think I’d enjoy fingernails scraping my head.
>>I want to do this with a guy with no condom, I want to taste the skin and salt. I want that trust as well.
>>I’d trust you.
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allthecastlesonclouds · 4 months
Note
tell me about drawtectives. what is this little show.
oooooh my god oh my god. they are my guys. so.
drawtectives itself is a youtube series created by julia lepetit on Drawfee. it's an rpg mystery show– s1 is a murder mystery, s2 is just a mystery– that doubles as an art challenges show. she draws all of the backgrounds and npcs and most of the assets (the 'cutscenes', you could call them) and then the team gets together, knowing absolutely nothing besides what julia's asked them to prepare, and does some funky improv to create a very funky storyline.
there are 3 players and one dm; the pcs are rosé, york, and grendan/grenda/grandma/gma, and the Big NPCs are Jancy True (s1/s2) and Eugene Finch (s2) and they're, in their own words, a found family, so. beloved. their backup plan if all their jobs fail is to move out east and open a bookstore. jancy and eugene have fully accepted their titles as mom/ancestral ghost and son despite meeting each other likely once before the drawtectives dragged them together. overall though if i had to summarize, it's a bunch of friends getting together, making a bunch of puns, appreciating julia's art, and laughing together. the vibes are 10/10 so loving. in writing the transcripts i've written (Karina laughs) (Nathan laughs) (All laugh) So Many Times it's just fun.
so there's three pcs. first one we meet is gyorik 'york' rogdul, who's a half-orc come to the city to learn about his mother's culture. he is the character we have by far the most lore for– if I compiled all the lore I had about the Northern Tribes and Wild Trains, I think the document would be multiple pages. he's also illiterate, which was an interesting decision for the english major of the group to make (in other words, York Will Not Be Illiterate For Season Three bc Y'all Cannot Read) and morally gray if you think about it too hard (he killed his own brother) but yknow he's hot so it's okay. they're all hot any crimes committed are okay. he's also aroace (confirmed by the player, which is!! vibes!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TELLING ME @axolotllee!)
rosé is the Human Rogue and the youngest of the party; her main trait in s1 was Millennial and she Dealt with that. she, in contrast with York, has so little lore we are scraping the barrel. she was a thief, then left everything about that life behind and changed her name to rosé when she went to work for jancy. she lied on her resumé. she knows how to sew; she's sewn Pockets of Holding on most of her clothing. she bonded with a stray cat that lived outside her last apartment. she's three credits short of graduating college. she's, in addition to being a drawtective, jancy's intern, and cried when jancy got her a cupcake. she won't tell her best friends when her birthday is or where she goes to school or what her last name is. that's all we know about her and i love her and she could probably kill someone as she has multiple knives on her person and does not use them. she's bright and funny and can be pretty dark but really does find the humor in it which is. wonderful.
so grendan highforge starts out as The Snobby Rich Boy which. already love the trope something Always Happens To Them if they're a pc. then through s1 they make an offhand comment about a character (faucon, whose name is pronounced 'falco') and how if her name was pronounced that way it'd be grenda. faucon asks how they feel about it. they are caught very off-guard by that and then ask to be called it for the next hour or so. then the next witness calls him gma, and then grandma, and then. yeah she realizes she's genderfluid. and he uses any pronouns and has a full beard and also wears a romper and loves dogs and the player is the Most Experienced TTRPG-er so through maybe using resources a bittt grandma is the most observant character of all of them. he's also a dog walker and a lightweight and does canonically have druidic magic though that was Not Touched On Much and showed up to their first day on the job slightly stoned (they did stop doing that though.) she carries around a box to make the height difference (york is 7'. grendan is 4'. rosé is 6'. you can see the formatting issue) slightly less difficult. she doesn't know how rhinos reproduce but has had a fascination with them since a police chief said one might've committed a crime. i think they could kill someone by talking too much but they don't actually have the strength or dex to do Jack Shit.
and jancy true is the head pi (a great many of the characters are puns and i love it so much) and is there to make sure things get done and clues don't get missed. she has a cochlear implant and uses a cane and solved s1 just by Reading The Paper and hearsay. she solved about half of s2 before Someone Stopped Her. she says hello children to the drawtectives and it is such a fond thing. eugene is. a guy who i love. julia started the show thinking he would be some mysterious character to join them and then made the wonderful improv decision– avoiding having to do npc-npc conversation– of saying 'yeah eugene is spinning a camera on its stand' and rosé just says so gleefully. 'guys. i think he's stupid.' and he became their son. his character is a lot of The Plot of s2 so i don't want to get into it too much but. jancy and eugene my beloved.
they're just. such a family. to quote nathan (grenda's Player) from the s2 talkback: "That's one of my favorite things about this show, is we came in with these vague ideas for characters, and just playing them with each other, they became friends and became better people as a result of knowing each other and solving mysteries. ... Like, we all kind of independently made our characters people that either were distant from their families or, you know, just had tenuous connections to other stuff, and so these are, like, the realest connections they have in their lives."
and then karina (rosé) about 10 seconds later: "Yeah, we love a found family where they bond over just being the worst."
god. them. they're chaotic and loud and feel very real to me. they have excitement and are pretty bad at social cues but they love each other and want to die together because they would hate too much to be separated. i could articulate this better but it's one in the morning and they mean a great deal to me.
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bookwyrminspiration · 5 months
Text
Shattered Upside Down
A kotlc wings au: masterpost here
Chapter 45: Epilogue (One Year Later)
word count: 10.6k
chapter summary: After freeing Olivia from Phoenix's clutches and (mostly) successfully defeating them and the Neverseen, what have the winged kotlcrew been up to in the past year?
warnings: death (non-violent, not mc)
taglist: @axels-corner @cadence-talle @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @loverofallthingssmart @cowboypossume @shellyseashell @imaramennoodle @dragonwinnie-kotlc @solreefs @fintan-pyren @jazzanddaydreams @xanadaus @valentinerose529
-> ao3 link here or read below one last time :)
The light had begun to turn a warm honey orange by the time Sophie Foster glitched into the grass fields of New Havenfield. All her friends should be inside by now, ready to enjoy the feast her parents had promised to prepare--partly in celebration of one year free, partly for personal reasons.
And this time they truly were free.
No more secret defeats or enemies crawling to the shadows to regroup. They’d actually done it this time--well, as far as they knew. If there turned out to be another resurgence they had to defeat again…Sophie was going to have some choice words with whoever was in charge of the universe.
Sophie’s wings buzzed lightly at her back as she surveyed the pastures, her vigilance a new habit she’d never break.
Grass shifted ever so slightly beneath the meandering air, and everywhere she looked she saw evidence of life bouncing back.
The gates had been reattached to their fences, new trees planted where they’d been torn that fateful day what felt like a lifetime ago. All the disturbed earth and rubble had been smoothed away, leaving clear paths to the house and pastures.
And there were animals in them.
Not as many as there’d once been, but anything at all was a huge improvement from the complete desolation that’d lasted months. Until, in a burst of inspiration, Sophie had dragged a dragon here.
It’d moved out long before Grady and Edaline had moved back in--it’d taken a while to rebuild the house, after all. Their faces had been grim when she’d first brought them for a brief visit and they’d seen the damage for the first time--the destroyed stairs, crumbling walls, the empty fields that’d once been teeming with life.
But even so, determination had steadily broken through.
Edaline’d even said she’d wanted to replace the stairs for years, but hadn’t had a good enough reason.
Sophie’d wanted to strangle her with a hug right then and there, but had settled for squeezing her hand as they’d continued along.
Sophie was mostly useless when it came to construction, and she had so many other new responsibilities to learn to balance, but she’d tried to check in on the house’s progress as much as she could.
Even though she didn’t have a bedroom there anymore.
It’d stung at first, even though it’d been her idea; and it wasn’t like there wasn’t space for her to visit--she still stayed over all the time.
It’d been bittersweet, a finality to all the rapid changes in her life. One more chapter of it closed.
Because as much as she loved her parents, it didn’t feel the same; something in her itched to keep moving, her mind desperate for the thoughts and colors and sounds it’d grown used to in the forest.
The monsters.
Even before their mission-gone-awry, Sophie’d already known what it was like to be different--and not in the way people liked. So now that she’d--mostly--gotten past her fears, she couldn’t help sympathizing with the things.
That didn’t mean there weren’t occasionally close calls, but they’d become fewer and farther between since Sophie had started working closer with Echo. Ever since the glitching not-cat had trusted her enough to show her the different pockets of monsters and things living in a sort-of-truce, she’d been spending more and more of her time with them, just like she used to wander the pastures at Havenfield.
Her parents weren’t necessarily happy about that--and a few of her friends had some reservations, even as far as they’d all come. But she had to. She couldn’t explain the feeling--plenty of her friends were successfully not spending ridiculous amounts of time around wild, potentially dangerous animals as they all worked to right the world. And yet.
Grass swished as Sophie started up the path towards the house, hoisting her spoils beneath her arm to get a better grip.
She’d known she had incredibly talented friends, but they’d somehow risen above and beyond even that in the past year.
Wylie and Fitz had formed a duo of sorts, Tam occasionally a third member, serving as valiant ambassadors between the surface and the Underground. The elves couldn’t stay down there forever, afterall--the dwarves’ patience could only tolerate so much.
But they also couldn’t jump right back into their old lives, even with the Neverseen and Phoenix gone--at least as gone as they could be. There were still…complications, of course.
Several elven houses had actually survived the apocalypse intact, given how isolated they’d been--and the fact they weren’t animal preserves. That really hadn’t worked in the Ruewen’s favor.
Biana and Maruca were helping coordinate moving those who still had houses back into them--their charming personalities were a huge help when dealing with so many haughty elves, but both of their abilities to detect and understand monsters made them invaluable when scouting out the surrounding areas to determine if they actually were safe to live in again.
Of course there were still thousands of displaced elves--those who had lived in Atlantis, or who hadn’t been so lucky with their homes--who needed a place to live. Last she’d heard of that, Dex had been deep in conversation with some dwarves, goblins, and council members about the logistics behind building temporary housing. Their plan sounded a lot like what she’d known as apartments back when she’d lived with humans.
She was sure people would have a lot to say about the smaller quarters and having to live near each other--but they’d also been doing that for over a year already, and underground at that. They’d be ridiculous not to recognize just how much of an improvement it would be to actually get some sunshine again. She was no physician, but everyone’s vitamin D levels had to be seriously hurting.
She could ask Elwin the next time she saw him. He’d probably tease her, again, about when she’d first come back.
~
“You know, it’s a miracle this flimsy piece of crystal was enough of a defense to keep this place safe,” Fitz observed, screwing the thing back in place after everyone had filed inside. He had one leg hooked over a new, stronger ladder--Sophie had broken the original--and the shiny new prototype of his knee brace clanked against the metal.
“I think Ro mentioned a couple times that she rigged it up with some bacteria, so anything that tried to get close learned the hard way that that was a bad idea,” Sophie offered as Olivia slipped her hand back into hers--they’d had to let go for the brief climb.
The little girl’s other arm was resolutely wrapped around Bee, holding the black and blue stuffed bumblebee tight to her chest; when she’d seen Sophie’s house last night after the campfire, she’d gasped so loud Sophie’d feared something had broken in, but she’d just rushed to the bed and grabbed the thing from where it’d been left next to Ella.
And Sophie suddenly remembered a note in the back of a diary and the hasty doodle next to it--a doodle Olivia had drawn. Of a little bee.
“Is that yours?” she’d asked, but the way she’d held it tight and trembling was all the answer she needed; maybe it was only a small toy in the grand scheme of things, but with what Olivia had been through? Any comfort was monumental.
She hadn’t set it down since, not even as they got ready to visit the Underground--all of them. And no one had said a thing about it.
Her friends, so far, had mostly been leaving Olivia to her. They weren’t ignoring her, but what were you supposed to do when someone added a very traumatized 8 or 9-ish year old to the group who had spent the last several months of her life witnessing and perpetuating horrific violence and mind games? And who had just witnessed two very influential people in her life die right in front of her--after watching her parents die not even a year before that?
Keefe kept making jokes and Fitz kept smiling encouragingly, and Linh was always so gentle, but some things just needed time.
She didn’t know why Olivia had chosen to stick to her side over everyone else’s, but she was going to do everything she could to be supportive and helpful…whatever that actually meant.
For now, it meant holding her hand as they climbed down the stairs into the Underground full of so many eagerly waiting people Sophie thought her brain might explode trying to list them all, even with her photographic memory.
All the parents who hadn’t seen their monstrous kids since they’d run away desperate to get their hands on them, bodyguards, Black Swan members, and maybe more; Sophie fell to the back of the group with Olivia so that when they finally crested the bottom, they wouldn’t be in the center of the chaos.
Just because she’d said she’d come didn’t mean she was ready for something as emotionally intense as this--especially with strangers. Sophie was barely more than a stranger herself.
“Dex!” Juline cried as she could only assume he reached the bottom, followed by what sounded a lot like him getting tackled.
She could hear Alden sobbing as he held tight to Fitz and Biana, and Tiergan’s soft voice as he spoke with Wylie under his breath--he was trying to keep it between the two of them, but unfortunately for him, all ten of them could hear it.
“Sophie?” Edaline’s voice called, nervous. Sophie still hadn’t shown her face; she and Olivia were a spiral up.
Tam reassured her mom. “Don’t worry, she’s here. She just…needs a minute.”
“Why?” Grady asked, and she smiled as she imagined the furrow in his brow.
Sophie looked down at Olivia. “Are you ready? I promise everyone will be very nice.” Well, Ro might make some stupid jokes, but we can deal with that when we get to it.
“Miss Foster truly has a knack for suspense,” Mr. Forkle said, a voice she hadn’t heard in so long she couldn’t help the way her eyes widened as she glanced toward the edge.
When she looked back at Olivia, something inscrutable had changed in her face. “Okay.”
Sophie took a breath and led the way down the stairs.
~
“You’d think erasing them would be the hardest part, not giving them back,” Fitz groaned from where he lay sprawled on the ground. There were plenty of chairs he could’ve chosen, but apparently the siren call of the hard earth was irresistible.
Elwin had chosen a chair, and now rubbed at his temples with his eyes firmly shut.
Adjusting to the influx of memories they’d poured back into his head.
Well, they’d already been in his head, just wildly out of place. They’d put everything back properly--and while some of the memories had found their place on their own, several had wandered aimless.
Meaning Sophie and Fitz had had to manually find where they went.
It’d be too soon if she never had to do anything so meticulous ever again.
“That’s the consequence of improper washing technique,” Tiergan told them, but his stern demeanor had been unusually softened since they’d come back--she suspected Wylie and the twins had something to do with that.
Sophie made a noise from where she’d collapsed in another chair, Olivia crossed legged on the floor beside her. “I’ll make sure to consult you next time we run away and need to hide our location from you and the Council.”
“Better idea,” Grady jumped in. “What if you don’t run away at all?”
Even though they were in one of the biggest rooms in the Underground, it still didn’t feel like nearly enough space for the number of people crammed into it.
All of her friends, all of their parents, Mr. Forkle, plus Sandor, Grizel, and Ro, Livvy to check up on Elwin, and Elwin himself. And there was little Olivia in the corner, but she was making herself so small she might as well not have counted.
Everyone had been incredibly nice to her, just as Sophie had promised, but it was still a lot of people.
And there had been a lot of confusion.
~
“Soph--oh?” Edaline had paused midway to her, head tilting to the side as her mouth dropped open. But she shook herself off as Sophie kept moving forward.
Edaline carefully closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around her.
“Hi, Mom,” she whispered into her ear, wrapping her free arm around her tight in response. She felt Grady’s join a moment later.
“It sounds like you have quite the story to tell us,” her mom said with a meaningful look as she pulled back, hands resting on Sophie’s shoulders.
Olivia’s face went carefully blank and tense, aware they were talking about her.
“Are you going to introduce us?” Grady asked, and Sophie realized it was more than just her parents Olivia was worried about. The whole room had gone silent, waiting in anticipation as they caught sight of her fiery red hair. Of someone new.
“Everyone, this is Olivia,” she said. “Olivia, this is everyone. She was…well, it’s a long story, but let’s just say she needed some better role models.”
Mr. Forkle raised a brow at that. “I do hope you plan to tell it, Miss Foster.” He watched Olivia with curiosity, a far-away look creeping around the edges like he was remembering something long past.
“Hang on, are you saying you think you all are role models?” Ro snorted, shaking her head and making the vivid purple of her pigtails sway.
“Hey, we may not be perfect--well, most of us, since I clearly am--but we’re definitely better than Murad and his creepy half-elf Phoenix people,” Keefe shot back.
Did you have to use every single buzzword possible? Sophie asked him, sighing as questions broke out; overlapping each other and rising in volume, she couldn’t even make out one question from another.
What? he asked, grinning and totally aware of what he was doing. It’s easier this way! Now everything’s out there.
Now I can’t even hear myself think, Tam put in, reaching up to tug on his bangs where he leaned against a wall near Linh, Wylie, and Tiergan, who was pinching the bridge of his nose and contributing to the noise.
“Don’t worry,” Sophie told Olivia, who had drawn back even further. “They do this all the time. It’s normal--and no one’s mad, I promise. And definitely not mad at you,” she said, guessing at where her reaction came from. “They’re just really confused…we kind of ran away from home a while ago, and everything has been chaos ever since. If they’re mad at anyone, it’s as us.” She gestured to herself and her friends. “We do stupid things a lot, and they’re kind of fed up with it.”
“Are you alright?” Edaline asked Olivia, brow crinkled. “I know you don’t know me, but we can fix that. I’m Edaline--Sophie’s mom. And if Sophie likes you, I’m sure I’m going to, too. She has great taste--don’t you agree, Grady?” she elbowed her husband lightly, drawing his attention away from the insistent inquisition her friends were undergoing.
Mostly it was them being asked any number of questions and going “you should ask Sophie about that” and “you’ll understand once Sophie tells the story” and “Sophie will explain.” Great. Really supportive of them.
“Hmm? Well, she does have some good friends, but there is that b--hey!” Edaline had elbowed him harder, and he seemed to actually be paying attention this time. And to realize there was a very overwhelmed little girl right in front of him. “Oh. Oh. Yes--Olivia, was it, kiddo? I like your little bee friend; it looks very soft. How’d you get wrapped up in all this mess?”
Olivia looked wide eyed between Grady and Sophie, and she wasn’t sure where this was heading or what she should do about it when Olivia opened her mouth.
The room had quieted by then, the adults getting nowhere with their questions and resorting to hugging their children again.
They’d overheard Grady’s question, however, and now watched with curious anticipation.
Olivia hesitated for a moment, then said. “You should ask Sophie about that, she’ll explain.”
Keefe cracked up.
~
“I think they’re going to explode if you make them wait any longer for that story,” Elwin said as he slipped his spectacles on and picked up her wrists. The leftover salve back at the village had helped some, but not enough. “So how about I take care of these while you start talking.”
Sure enough, when Sophie glanced back, it was to a room full of very tense, very expectant faces.
They’d sat patiently through Fitz and Sophie returning Elwin’s memories--and she couldn’t explain just how profoundly the relief had washed over her when she’d first seen him. Standing, full of color, wearing a ridiculous shirt covered in unicorns. Just himself.
She knew Livvy was good, but she hadn’t really believed he was okay until she’d seen the grin that’d split his face and he’d said, “There’s my thief!”, wrapping her up in an enormous hug.
But they’d stalled as long as they could.
Olivia was still curled up beside the chair, intensely aware of the attention she’d drawn as she nibbled on a puffed dessert. Kesler had offered it, promising there was nothing slipped into it to turn her green or anything--though she didn’t really understand the joke.
“Fine--but can you guys promise not to interrupt us with a million questions? We’ll be up all night if we do that.”
“I seem to recall you kids made a similar promise once--and were terrible at it.” Mr. Forkle smiled, silently settling into a nearby chair anyway.
“Hang on--us?” Keefe cut in. “You’re making us help, too?”
“Well obviously. Did you really think that ‘let’s make Sophie do all the talking’ thing was gonna fly?”
“Well…” Dex said, with a pointed look at her wings.
They buzzed under the intention--and from the tickle of Elwin’s fingers as he spread something over her burns. “That’s not what I--maybe I will tell the whole story myself then, if you’re all going to be so ridiculous.”
“I can help,” Linh offered, raising her hand ever so slightly.
“I told you, this is why she’s my favorite of you two,” Sophie directed at Tam, who only rolled his eyes.
“I’m beginning to wonder how we ever accomplished anything,” Tiergan rubbed at his temples.
“Simple. We’re the best!” Biana chimed in, appearing next to Sophie and startling her so hard she shrieked.
“You are,” Della agreed with a smile, but she continued. “Now about that story? Grady and Edaline already shared what you, Linh, and Sophie told them on your earlier visit. But it seems there’s been…some developments?”
Olivia sat very still as several people glanced at her again.
Fortunately for her, Fitz chose that moment to fluff his wings, knocking a glass off the table behind him with a loud clatter--he jumped at the sound as all eyes turned to him, but she could’ve sworn a hint of satisfaction flashed through the mindbubble as Olivia blinked.
“If everyone’s done, I’d be happy to tell you what’s going on--it’s great news,” she saw a few shoulders relax--even though everyone had seemed to pick up on their light, playful moods already. “But if you’d rather mess around…”
Biana appeared at her brother’s side to clamp a hand over his mouth as he opened it to protest, smiling sweetly.
“Alright,” she said as the room fell silent, expectant. “You already know some of the story, but there’s a lot we haven’t shared. Do you remember how Dex found that tag on the mushroom that broke into the Underground forever ago? The one that had a broken chain on it?”
~
“There has got to be a better way to carry that,” Maruca shook her head, re-securing her locs back as she watched Keefe stumble by.
Sophie followed her line of sight, a snort-like laugh bursting painfully from her nose as she saw what Maruca was talking about.
Keefe had a beanbag chair in his arms, but had apparently decided that the best way to hold it was to pile it atop himself in such a way his head was nearly completely covered, holding desperately tight for purchase as he walked unsteadily onward. She was seriously concerned he’d walk right out of the village and plummet to his death, even with the new railings.
Strung with vine-braided rope and peppered with flower buds waiting to bloom, they were a recent restoration project. There’d been railings when the village had first been built, evidenced by Olivia’s account and the leftover remnants they could sometimes find around the place.
But with time, storms, and tragedy they’d almost all fallen apart. None of her friends had bothered making railings when they’d started restringing some bridges and clearing out rubble, but that was because none of them needed them. If they fell--though it would take an idiot to fall in the first place--they could just fly back up.
That wasn’t true for everyone here anymore, though.
There was Olivia to think of, who had chosen to temporarily stay in the village with them because she couldn’t bear to be underground again--and because her monster wouldn’t be able to come underground with her.
Their parents hadn’t been thrilled at the thought of leaving several impulsive teenagers in charge of a young child, so they hadn’t.
On top of Olivia’s safety, their parents were frequent visitors; Grady and Edaline had already been to the surface before, and apparently so had Della and Mr. Forkle, so they were adamant that they should come over as often as they could to…she wasn’t actually sure.
Just to be there and start making up for the several months they’d been torn apart.
“AAH!” Keefe shouted, cutting her musings short as he nearly lost his balance on one of the rope bridges.
“You have telekinesis!” Fitz admonished from somewhere far in the distance--so far Sophie couldn’t even see where he was. “Use it, you idiot!”
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER HOW AWESOMELY THIS IS WORKING!” Keefe called back, though it was muffled since half of his face was pressed into the beanbag as he continued his stagger.
“What are you even doing?” Sophie called after him, barely containing her laughter, broom in her hand long forgotten.
“OLIVIA NEEDS SOMEPLACE COMFY TO READ HER NERD BOOKS!” he called back, and she realized that was, in fact, the direction he was heading.
With Olivia in the village--frequently visited by much more qualified role models than the ten of them--she’d chosen her own house.
She’d picked one nearby Sophie’s, though she hadn’t explained why. She couldn’t help suspecting it didn’t actually have anything to do with her; sure, Sophie had been the one to promise to get her out, but they’d all helped with that.
And they’d only spoken briefly when she’d been kidnapped, not long enough for them to form a strong connection. At first Sophie had just been the most familiar face, that was all.
Living in the village for the past month, she’d inevitably gotten to know the rest of Sophie’s friends, too. She’d taken a shining to Linh, both for the Hydrokinetic’s kindness and her dragons. Olivia had also started spending more and more time with Maruca, though she wasn’t sure what drew the two of them together.
Maruca sighed as they watched Keefe go, turning back around to get back to work; they were all having another cleaning day--and this time there wasn’t any horrible news burning the back of Sophie’s throat ready to throw it all to a halt.
They actually had even more help this time.
“Is he trying to fall?” Grady asked, returning from his trip to get more rope from the storage shed. He was helping Maruca with that--and originally Sophie had been part of it, but after a few too many close-calls, they decided she should sweep instead to preserve her fingers.
“AW, I THINK GRADY-O’S ACTUALLY WORRIED ABOUT ME!” Keefe yelled, even louder since he was further away and had a death wish.
Grady ruffled Sophie hair as he stood beside her, shaking his head. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave him in that creepy abandoned facility?”
None of them were willing to bring anyone else to the facility, since they didn’t know how it would respond to someone non-monstrous, but they’d told them all about it. And Keefe and Dex had been going back multiple times a week after Marella had showed them how to get there. They claimed it was because the Black Swan wanted to know what other valuable intel was hidden there--Dex’s first visit had been brief and under significant stress, after all--but Sophie was certain Keefe would’ve been there just as often even without the excuse. Dex was just covering for him.
Just because their families knew they had wings and some…interesting side effects from their first mission gone wrong didn’t mean they knew the whole story yet.
Even with minimal interruptions and half of the story already told, Sophie had spent practically the whole day recounting the last few months when they’d all gone back. Her friends had, of course, helped; they hadn’t really meant to make her do it all, but there still were some parts of the story only she could tell.
Like how she’d been kidnapped, and what she’d found in different monster’s minds.
There were other parts of the story only others’ could tell, but that didn’t mean they did.
Keefe had chosen not to tell anyone about what the being was to him, and none of the rest of them were quite sure either.
Biana hadn’t talked about the colors she saw with anyone but the ten of them--eleven if Olivia overhearing counted.
Maruca hadn’t mentioned what she’d done to keep them all safe.
Marella hadn’t talked about how she’d met her dragons.
Linh, however, was more than happy to share details about her own.
They’d been relegated to the forest floor when they had visitors--Elwin may have been fine getting jumped by a baby dragon, but they were starting to get bigger, and she didn’t think many others would take it as well as he did.
Even though Grady and Edaline used to work with animals. And even though they were slowly getting Olivia to open up more about her monster, Goldie.
They were taking it much better than she would’ve expected, given what had happened at Havenfield when the apocalypse first started and everything since.
She didn’t know if it was a testament to the strength of their natural courage, or if the need to comfort a traumatized little kid was enough to overpower any reservations they may have had, but she was grateful either way.
“You still with me, kiddo?”
Sophie shook herself off and smiled. “Always.”
~
Standing before Havenfield’s new door of crystalline wood, she hesitated before raising her hand to knock.
The gesture made her feel ridiculous and hope no one was watching, but she didn’t live here anymore. It didn’t seem right to just barge on in, even if she visited all the time.
Her knuckles were still against the wood when the door swung open and Tam’s face peeked out.
“Took your sweet time getting here.” He stepped back to let her pass, eyes reflecting the waning light. “I should’ve guessed,” he snorted as he saw what she carried.
“Am I the last one?” she asked, though she already knew the answer was yes.
“Sophie? Is that you?” Edaline’s voice called from the dining room, raising it to be heard over the lively chatter from dozens of people all in one space.
Sophie trailed behind Tam as she joined the group. “Sorry I’m late, Mom.” She used her free arm to wrap it around her mother, who had rushed her the moment she’d seen her to press her close; her wings gave a fond buzz.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming at all! What kept you?” Edaline pulled back, brushing a stray strand of hair off Sophie’s forehead; it was constantly sticking out every which way since she’d cut it, but it was infinitely better than all the tangles she’d dealt with from flying. Now she didn’t even have to think about tying it back before taking off, and she’d gotten all that weight off her neck.
“Is that for me?” Olivia asked, appearing beside them and pointing to Sophie’s arms.
“Sophie!” Fitz admonished from across the table where he sat between Keefe and Alden, wings relaxed and draping to the floor. “I thought we agreed stealing was wrong!”
“Stealing is great, actually, Golden Boy,” Marella answered for her, leaning back in her chair at a dangerous tilt that had Wylie frowning next to her.
“You’ve never even stolen anything before!” Tam protested, re-taking his seat between Linh and Maruca.
Sophie turned away from the debate that broke out to refocus on Olivia, who still looked expectantly at her with those wide bright eyes, arms folded over her chest. Her hair had been braided back, though a few curls were escaping and frazzled, matching the dirt stains on the knees of her overalls. She must’ve spent the day running through Havenfields pastures--maybe chasing Goldie.
“Yes, these are for you,” she answered her earlier question, and handed over her spoils.
A DVD of Labyrinth and a chapter book she’d swiped on a quick visit to the Forbidden Cities.
When she wasn’t with Goldie, Olivia liked to spend her down time reading or obsessively rewatching the same human movies over and over again, listening to the languages of her childhood.
Labyrinth had been one of Sophie’s childhood staples, and when she’d seen it she couldn’t help grabbing it to pass the classic on.
“You’re going to run out of space to keep all those at this rate,” Grady teased as he emerged from the adjoined kitchen with platters of pastries in each hand. His apron said “KISS THE COOK”, which Sophie had grabbed for him on a different Forbidden Cities run; it was becoming quite the habit of hers.
“I’ll keep them in your office when that happens,” Olivia decided, darting off with her goods; footsteps pounded up the stairs as she raced to her room to deposit them.
A bittersweet pang coursed through Sophie.
She’d worried about leaving her parents alone when she’d decided she preferred to stay in the village; she couldn’t bear to be so far from Echo and all the creatures, and visits weren’t enough.
Even going back every single day, the distance grew as she stayed at Havenfield to help with the rebuilding efforts. Even though the most she could do was carry things sometimes. Construction really wasn’t her thing.
But they weren’t the same people she’d moved in with who were lost and grieving and needed someone to guide them back to living, and they weren’t the same parents she’d left in the Underground who needed reassurance she was still alive.
Grady’d definitely shed a few tears, but all his arguments had been half-hearted when she’d told them.
And she wasn’t leaving them alone.
There was Olivia now.
Sophie didn’t have a bedroom here anymore, but Olivia did.
There wasn’t a single moment she could pinpoint where Olivia had started melding into the family. No one had meant for it to happen; it’d simply been the result of a series of decisions trying to make the best out of a bad situation.
Grady and Edaline weren’t the only ones who had been kind to Olivia, who had visited the village and brought her gifts and been willing to put in the time to get past the thick shell Murad had put around her.
Not that that could be resolved in just a year--or ever; she’d bear the scars for the rest of her life, but they’d made significant progress in earning her trust.
But even with so many people offering her a peace she’d nearly forgotten, Sophie’s own parents had stood out above the rest.
Olivia trusted Goldie, her giant gold-threaded midnight bear, more than she trusted herself.
And Grady and Edaline had a way with animals.
As soon as they’d earned Goldie’s trust, it was like this arrangement was inevitable.
Of course she’d stay with the elves who literally worked an animal preserve; of course they’d look after an experimental little girl thrust into a new world without any family left to remember her--they already had experience with that, after all.
The only blip in the process had been the rest of the half-elves.
There was no simple solution to what to do about or with them, and they still didn’t have everything worked out.
With the help of information Dex had retrieved from the abandoned facility, the bits of intel recoverable from the burnt husk of the main facility, and the scraps of knowledge Olivia had from experience, they’d started searching for survivors of the facility fire.
And, with time, they’d found some.
There was no way to anticipate how any one person would react.
Some of them vehemently believed in Murad’s cause and had been indoctrinated by his revenge since birth, spewing vitriol against anyone who came near.
Some hadn’t even been a part of the experiments and plots, they’d just lived there because there was nowhere else in the world they could find a population of people like themselves. They’d been born into it and didn’t know anything else.
Some didn’t know what to think when Sophie found them and asked to talk.
And neither did the elves.
Originally the councillors had wanted to keep this knowledge to themselves, but there was no way Sophie was going to let them stay quiet about it; she’d understood why they’d kept quiet about Lady Vespera’s Nightfall--but she wasn’t going to sit by a second time.
They must’ve seen something in her expression that made them realize there was no keeping this quiet, so they’d elected to spread the news gradually themselves, and their world had never been the same.
Especially not after the Council had asked to meet with any half-elves willing.
The burden of arranging that meeting had fallen to Sophie and her friends, since they were the ones actually going out to find former Phoenix members.
It’d taken months, but with their combined efforts they got a dozen of the half-elves they’d found to agree to represent their people before the Council.
That wasn’t to say everyone was happy with the arrangement--the half-elves they’d found had only been the tip of the iceberg, hundreds more having survived, escaped, and reconvened around the globe.
And they were just as divided about the issue as the elven world.
Their main advantage had been surprise, as virtually no-one had been aware of their existence--not even the few elves who’d been alive when the banishing decree had been issued. It was too long ago; their ancient minds hadn’t held onto the memories, especially with the washers deployed throughout the Lost Cities and the rewritten history books replacing the gaps.
But now they’d been discovered, and they were far fewer in number and power than the rest of the Lost Cities.
So despite intense debate, they agreed to the meeting.
A meeting that had grown to include all the intelligent species.
When the meeting had started, there were only six intelligent species.
When it ended, there were seven.
Of course Sophie’s attendance had been requested to represent her friends, given just how wrapped up they were in the whole mess--because describing it as anything less than was just wishful thinking.
There’d been arguments both ways--saying that half-elves should fall under the designation of elves and didn’t need their own classifications (of course with some arguments they should be classified with humans instead). Others that they were too different from both species to be anything but their own category.
Regardless of what everyone else thought of them, the half-elves refused to align themselves with the elves given their history. And with that solemn reminder, the Council voted in favor of their own classification and broke the tie.
It was the least they could do, a first step, though they were a long way from making up for the mistakes of the past. If they ever could be.
The other species had left that meeting concerned that if half-elf/half-humans--who referred to themselves with which word depended on the person--could be considered an intelligent species, what did that mean for humans? Was it the elven-half that made them eligible? Or if the title was something that they could hand out based on a vote, whose to say humans weren’t intelligent after all? The thought had darkened and perplexed many faces, but it wasn’t what had screwed up Sophie’s--she already knew humans deserved to be considered intelligent, she just also knew that battle would be a long one, and wasn’t quite ready to take it on.
She was more worried about Olivia.
If the half-elves were establishing themselves again, would Olivia want to go back to them? She’d lived her entire live with them, after all. Spoken their languages, participated in their traditions; their faces were far more familiar than Sophie and her friends’.
Would they want her back?
Surely they knew about her--she’d been Murad’s favorite project.
But they hadn’t asked about her at all. Not until she’d broached the subject herself, the worry unbearable until she ripped off the bandaid.
They’d gone still.
“She’s alive?”
One of the half-elves from the meeting had pulled her aside, grip tight on her arm and desperately searching her face, brown eyes meeting brown. “Olivia’s alive?”
She’d stammered out some sort of affirmative, too caught off guard by their intensity to do anything else.
“Take me to her, please.”
It had taken a few days for security purposes, but when she’d brought them--Saya, she’d learned--back to New Havenfield, she’d never seen anyone so nervous.
Saya kept pushing back their dark curls, fiddling with the edges in anxiety, so different from the collected calm they’d displayed in the meetings as they waited in the pastures.
And then Grady, Edaline, and Sandor had walked out with Olivia behind them, and the unease on their face turned to bittersweet heartache at her small gasp.
Saya hadn’t said a word as they’d dropped to their knees, arms holding Olivia tight as she crashed into them and gripped them tight.
They switched to a human language Sophie didn’t recognize but still understood, and her eyes burned badly enough she had to look away--so did her parents, even though they couldn’t understand what they said.
But the love in the words was unmistakable.
“You’re alright? They’ve treated you well? When I heard--”
Olivia nodded. “They’ve--they’re nice. Where did you go?”
“I never went anywhere, honey. But when you left, I never thought I’d see you again. I thought something horrible had happened. But you promise you’re okay?”
“It’s better now since…since…” she trailed off, glancing at Sophie. “You’re not going to leave again, right?”
“Never again. I promised your parents I’d look after you, remember? I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to find you. I had no idea where to start looking--but now I’ve found you, and I intend to keep my promise.” Saya tucked a curl behind Olivia’s ear, searching her eyes before pulling her close again.
They steeled themself then, remembering they had an audience, and switched back to the Enlightened Language.
“Sophie tells me you’ve been looking after her. Thank you,” they said, carefully even.
Edaline blinked. “Of course--Saya, right?” Saya nodded. “It’s the least we can do; no one deserves what she’s been through.”
“How do you know Olivia?” Grady asked, tightening his hold on Edaline.
Saya stayed on the ground, eyes on Olivia as they spoke. “Her parents and I were close, though they were far more involved than I was.” They didn’t say with what, but they didn’t need to. Involved with Murad and his experiments. “I promised I’d look after her if anything happened to them--though I didn’t know until recently--” they inclined their head to Sophie “--that she was still alive. I thought she’d died with Murad and Fintan in the fire.”
Olivia flinched at the names--nearly imperceptible, but there; Sophie swore she could hear a growl from a distant pasture.
“What are your intentions now?” Sandor squeaked out, squinting suspiciously at Saya. He’d taken to guarding Olivia instead of Sophie, and seemed glad to have someone to protect again.
Saya’s expression hardened, and they stood, a hand on Olivia’s shoulder; she looked anxiously up between the two of them.
“I intend to keep my promise.”
“How?” Sophie cut in, acutely aware of the rising tension.
“Thank you for looking out for her, but she belongs with her people. How would you like to come home with me?” they asked, looking down at Olivia and softening their tone.
Olivia stayed quiet, frozen--and this time there was no mistaking Goldie’s agitation as the growl sounded again, heavy footsteps approaching.
Sophie tried again. “Where are you staying?”
Saya glanced at her, debating with themself for a moment before answering; they’d worked alongside Sophie long enough not to immediately write her off. Saya had been the first to agree to the meeting, after all. And they’d stayed near Sophie throughout the whole ordeal.
“Murad established a number of unmapped bunkers in the event something went seriously wrong.”
Olivia wrapped her arms around herself tight and Goldie’s thundering form crested around a corner with all its hair on end.
“Underground?” Olivia asked faintly.
“Hey, kiddo, remember the breathing exercises we went over?” Grady said before Saya had a chance to answer. “Slow and steady, that’s it. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
Olivia squeezed her eyes shut tight as she listened, body lightly swaying with the rhythm.
They stayed quiet as she regulated herself, only broken by Grady and Saya’s gentle encouragement.
Goldie stalked up beside Sophie, fur laying smooth over its body--but eyes fixed intently on Olivia.
Sophie reached a hand out to brush against it; she hoped the soft strokes would travel through whatever mental link the two shared and help calm Olivia down.
When Olivia opened her eyes again, it was to Saya crouched in front of her, seeing her with new eyes.
“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, honey? A lot I don’t know about. Yes, the bunkers are underground. Would that be a problem?”
Olivia didn’t answer, but turned anxious eyes towards Goldie, who stared back.
“She doesn’t like being underground,” Sophie explained quietly, wings buzzing. “It reminds her of…everything. Since your facilities were underground.”
Saya stayed quiet for a few moments, brow furrowed. “Well, that’s a problem.”
They looked around then, surveying the pastures and the peaceful animals they’d been slowly accumulating, Goldie at Sophie’s side, her parents and Sandor tensely watching over the exchange, the new house of crystal and wood.
“Do you like it here?” Saya asked, switching away from the Enlightened language; Edaline, Grady, and Sandor’s expressions pinched.
Slowly, Olivia nodded. “Everyone’s very nice, and Goldie likes it here. There’s lots of space for it. And I have my own room--I even have some of the movies we used to watch!” She pushed up a little in a bounce of excitement. “We could--we could watch them together.”
Saya smiled. “I’d love to watch a movie with you. Do you like the people?”
Olivia wasn’t blind to what was happening. “I miss you. It’s…scary, sometimes, meeting so many new people. But Sophie promised me they’d all be nice, and that I didn’t have to meet anyone I don’t want to. And she keeps her promises.” Goldie shifted. “You could…you could stay here with me.”
Sandor’s face screwed up with impatience as Sophie’s eyebrows lifted.
“I wish I could, honey. And before we watch that movie, I have a very important question for you.” They waited for Olivia to nod. “Do you want to stay here? I know I don’t have a place for us aboveground, but just say the word and I’ll figure something out.”
Olivia took a moment, looking around at the new Havenfield just like Saya had, really considering her answer. She met Goldie’s eye, looked and Grady and Edaline, at Sandor, at the fields she’d started to play in and help with. “I like it here.”
“But do you want to stay? I promise I won’t be upset if you do, I just want to know what you think, okay?”
Something loosened in Olivia’s face and she nodded. “I like it here. Are you sure you can’t stay with me?” Her voice was near pleading, holding tight to Saya.
Saya’s face softened, and they pressed a kiss to Olivia’s forehead. “I can’t, honey. But I promise I’ll visit as much as I can. Every single day, even.”
They switched back to the Enlightened language. “You understood all that, I presume?” That part was directed at Sophie, and she nodded.
“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Edaline asked--polite, but strained.
“If Olive doesn’t want to be underground, I don’t have anywhere I can take her right now. And with what she’s been through…I’m not going to force her to leave.” Saya appraised Grady, Edaline, and Sandor as though they’d never seen them before. “She likes you, and she likes it here. If she’s finally found some stability, I won’t take it from her.”
“But you’re not going, right?” Olivia cut in, even though Saya had already promised to visit.
“I told you I’d be here as much as possible, didn’t I?” they said, squeezing her shoulder. They turned back to Grady and Edaline. “And in that case, I believe a proper introduction is in order, since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other--assuming you have no problem with that?” They raised a brow expectantly, almost in a challenge.
A smile broke across Grady’s face. “Of course not--if that’s what Olivia wants, we have no problem with it. Grady, Grady Ruewen,” he said, stepping forward to offer Saya his hand for a firm shake.
Edaline bent over to wrap Olivia in a tight hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. I promise, Saya can stay over as much as they want, okay? Whatever you want. And if one day you want to leave and stay with them instead, that’s okay too. We just hope you’ll visit sometimes.”
Olivia’s answering smile could’ve lit the world on fire.
~
“Was that all you grabbed?” Saya asked from their seat in the corner; they sat alone. Just because they were at Havenfield even more than Sophie these days didn’t mean they knew or liked everyone the Ruewen’s had invited. Sophie wasn’t sure they’d even met Alden before.
“Almost everything,” Sophie shook her head, reaching into her pocket to pull out a pack of mints and tossing them to Saya, who caught it with ease.
“And that’s why you’re my favorite elf,” they grinned, tearing off the plastic and popping one into their mouth.
Marella made a noise of protest, and Fitz opened his mouth to respond to Marella, but Biana kicked both of them under the table. “We are not having this debate again! Not at the table at least! Go fight it out outside if you need to, you animals.”
Tam had to cover his mouth with his hand to smother his laughter, and he wasn’t the only one.
“If you’re handing out presents, please tell me you got something for the rest of us,” Keefe begged, making puppy-dog eyes at her. Even though he knew the answer. It’d become a small tradition for her to bring Olivia a little something back whenever she visited the Forbidden Cities, and occasionally she grabbed something for Saya, too.
But the three of their’s connection to the Forbidden Cities--raised by humans and half-humans--was something they mostly kept between the three of them.
That wouldn’t stop Keefe from asking for treats and favors, though.
“Unbelievable. You save the world and this is the thanks you get?” Keefe complained with a small smile, because he knew he was about to start even more debate and arguments.
Sure enough, Maruca snorted, “You saved the world? Were the rest of us on vacation or something?”
Sophie tuned them out as Olivia came racing back down the stairs, giving Sophie a quick nod before she skirted around the chairs and mingling bodies to find Saya.
They smiled at her, running a fond hand over her head and fingering the braids Grady had done that morning.
“Saya’s taken the news well,” Edaline murmured next to Sophie, and she realized they’d both been watching them.
“Well, they said they were more ambivalent about Murad and his revenge dreams. Some of the others are probably taking it harder.”
Even after all the months spent working together, re-establishing the elven and half-elven worlds--sitting through meetings, traveling the world, and learning more about construction coordination than she ever thought possible--and even after all the progress they’d made, there was still one detail that bothered her.
A desperate, scared, lonely boy with eyes that couldn’t decide if they wanted to be blue or green standing alone in an evacuating village as his elven mother turned from him, never to return.
The defining moment of Murad’s life, the one that had sparked him to form Phoenix and shaped his vitriol against elves into what it had been.
But why?
Why had she walked away?
Murad had raved about how she’d chosen elves over him, but…she’d looked so devastated in that memory.
Sophie had so many responsibilities to balance, but the image of Murad’s mother’s bracing face burned against her eyelids every time she closed them, and she couldn’t stop asking why why why why why?
So she’d found herself before Councillors Bronte and Oralie, asking if they had any idea where to start looking for a vanishing elf.
Because there wasn’t any record of her in the Registry Files; Sophie’d thought that if she’d renounced her half-elven son and human lover, she’d have rejoined polite elven society and there’d be something to find.
But it was like she’d never existed.
Bronte and Oralie couldn’t say much to help--but they reminded her that elves don’t die, at least not naturally.
The elves from that time were still alive, even if their memories had been altered.
And so on the side, Sophie’d began the long and tedious process of identifying the few Ancients who were ancient enough to remember, of visiting them, getting permission to search for their washed memories--some were more willing than others.
There were those who didn’t want anyone rooting around in their head ever again, even if it meant they never got their old memories back--they’d been fine this long without them, after all, so what did it matter?
There were those nervous and distrustful about the process--especially if she kept her wings out for the meeting, so she’d taken to keeping them under a cape during her visits just to make it easier to talk to them.
And then there were those who were her favorite to work with: the ones eager to have their memories returned, who practically begged the Moonlark to find what had been stolen and set things right. They were few and far between.
All that didn’t even take into account how temperamental Ancients could be with how old and crowded their minds had become, nor how isolated they generally liked to stay. The majority of Ancients old enough to remember never responded to her initial contact.
Suffice to say, she’d had her work cut out for her--though Fitz had been sweet enough to help as much as he possibly could, and given the wide range of reactions to their varying levels of success, she was immensely grateful she didn’t have to suffer it alone.
Especially when, against all odds, they’d actually found something.
She’d been nearly ready to call the search off that day; she’d been here before, the infinite darkness in the outskirts of a mind that meant whatever memories there’d once been had been swallowed and lost.
The few flickers of ancient, ancient memories they’d already found were better than the complete emptiness they found in most minds.
But this particular ancient seemed so eager--desperate--to find something, that she nearly couldn’t bear the thought of telling them there wasn’t anything left.
She’d opened her eyes and looked into their imploringly blue eyes, that she found herself transmitting to Fitz, One more try.
The tug of exhaustion pulled at his mind, but he didn’t complain. Just rallied the little energy he had left to pool between them and squeezed her hand tight.
“One more try,” she repeated out loud for their benefit, and they nodded and closed their eyes, bracing themself in the chair. Their fingers dug so deeply into the wood she worried it’d crack.
With a final shove, they sliced through the fudgy edges of their consciousness as they shouted MURAD again, and Sophie sent a tiny bit of the power stored beneath her ribs in an attempt to get something to happen.
Maybe they aimed in the right place. Maybe it was her stored power. Maybe it just finally clicked into place.
Whatever it was, Fitz whispered, Oh fuck, before his mind immediately recoiled from its own vulgarity as a crackled memory surged forward. It buoyed them out of the recesses of this ancient’s subconscious with a startling instancy as they watched.
Even through the distortion Sophie could make out her face, pretty dark curls to her waist and deep blue elven eyes, dark skin, and a pinched expression overflowing with tears.
~
She burst into the room, not bothering to knock and sending them jumping to their feet.
“Nai--” they started, but she wasn’t listening.
“They won’t listen. They can’t see reason--they’re too afraid, and I don’t know what else to do,” she whispered, gripping her hair tight and frazzling it as she paced the living room.
“Slow down--what are you talking about?”
Murad’s mother stopped, turning to face them. “The council. Y--said they’d talk to them to appeal the decision, but he couldn’t make it. He messaged me, begging me to take his place. Because someone has to make them see how--how--how stupid this is. They can’t erase them, I’m not letting them take my family from me.”
“You met with the council?”
“If you can even call it that. He told me I had to go immediately, since they were already preparing to wipe their barbaric decision from their memories! Can you believe it?” she whirled to face them. “They know, they know it’s wrong--that’s why they erased it. Because they’re a bunch of cowards who can’t face the fact they’re doing this because they’re afraid--ruining thousands of lives over it.”
They struggled to keep up with her, heart pounding as they watched her pace back and forth and back and forth.
“I showed up and half of them didn’t even know what I was talking about!” she burst out, hands curling into fists. “I left Murad in--” she cut out, tension riddling her body as horror flashed across her face.
They stilled. “With Hati?”
Murad’s mother whirled, punching the wall and sending photos crashing to the floor. “I’m an idiot. How could I--I need to go back. I left him alone because I thought--what was I thinking!”
“You left him alone?” They could only helplessly repeat back what she said, could only try and understand bits and pieces of this whirlwind.
She darted back to the door, still ajar from when she’d burst in; she fumbled a starstone from her pocket and held it up to the light, not even bothering to look.
Instead her eyes were on the ground, but far far away and furious as she held a hand to her mouth and tried to brush away the tears.
They’d never forget the terrified sorrow on her face as the light started to pull her away.
Or the soft, “No,” she breathed as she faded from sight, muscles going limp and eyes wide as she realized all too late her carelessness.
And all they could do was reach towards their sister and watch her disappear.
~
Sophie opened her eyes to tears streaming down their ancient face, and as she opened her mouth to say something--anything--she tasted salt on her own lips, too.
“I’m so sorry,” Fitz said, hollow and automatic as their hands dropped from their temples.
They’d seemed too stunned to say anything in response for a long minute, and then they turned away.
Their bright blue eyes fogged over, and they hugged their arms close.
“I have always felt,” they began, pressing a palm to their chest over their heart, “that I was missing something. When I still spoke to my old companions, they told me it was the product of an old mind. Things slip through the cracks. It’s only natural. And I tried to believe them, that this space in my life was nothing more than an Ancient mind collapsing on itself. But some part of me never did, and when I heard that the two of you were searching the minds of those willing, I couldn’t resist. I had to know.”
They paused and took a breath. “And now I do.”
Sophie blinked hard. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage. What else could she possibly say?
They continued like she hadn’t spoken. “I remember now…she was so passionate. If anyone could’ve convinced the council to revoke their decision it would’ve been her. That must’ve been why she risked it.” Their eyes fixed on her. “The general population doesn’t know the specifics of what our world went through, and us recluses even less so. But we all heard of the meetings between the species, and that there were half-elves there. Murad…I know it’s unlikely, but did you ever learn anything of him?”
Sophie’s breath caught, and Fitz’s wings ruffled behind them in surprise.
Their brow furrowed, anxiously looking between them and reading their reaction.
“You have?”
She couldn’t get her mouth to work, couldn’t figure out how to tell them that Murad had been responsible for their world falling apart, couldn’t figure out how to soften the blow.
Fitz beat her to it. “We did. He…he didn’t make it out.”
Their minds still held hands from their probe, and she felt his thoughts racing frantically past as he tried to school his expression and give this Ancient any peace he could.
They closed their bright blue eyes, as though they’d been expecting it. “Thank you; now leave me, please.”
They’d complied, numb. Fitz’s hand tight in hers as she drew them through the void and back to the village.
Neither of them moved or even said a word, simply standing there, until Wylie crossed their paths.
One look at them and he was calling a family meeting and gently pushing them into chairs beside the campfire; their fingers were still intertwined.
It’d taken a little bit to gather everyone, as busy as they all were with their different projects these days. Linh’s dragon had finally woken, and she’d been helping re-acclimate it to being awake and taking care of its no-longer-so-little ones. Marella had moved hers out of Havenfield, though Sophie wasn’t up to date on where it was now. It took Tam some time to get away from wherever it was he kept slipping off to--she saw him with Fitz a lot, and heard them say something about “knocking some sense into everyone.”.
But everyone trickled in, one by one, until the ten of them were silent around faux purple, yellow, white, and black flames and the questions became more and more worried.
When they’d mentioned calling Elwin, Sophie and Fitz had sent the memory through the mindbubble and watched it ripple into their heads, whispers falling silent as they watched.
Wylie and Biana, their resident experts on light, confirmed what they’d already suspected.
Murad’s mother, who’s name they hadn’t fully caught, had been too distraught and distracted as she’d held up the starstone.
They couldn’t see the specifics of the light, but Wylie and Biana said there was an impassive hunger to it, visible in the patterns it pulled her body apart in.
Never to reform.
She’d faded.
Murad had been wrong. She hadn’t abandoned him in that village to choose pure-bred elves over her family, her son.
She’d left desperate to keep him, and had died trying to get back to him.
His hurt, his motivation, his entire cause was built on something that wasn’t even true.
Millennium of work in retribution, months of chaos and torment, and this entire time she had chosen him.
Chosen him so entirely that it had torn her apart.
~
None of them had known what to do with the information, so Sophie’d told Saya the next time they crossed paths at Havenfield; it hadn’t taken long, they both visited as often as they could.
They’d gone quiet, then sought out Olivia to hug her close and apologize because they couldn’t stay.
Amidst Olivia’s disappointment, they silently pulled a starstone from their pocket and faded into the light; Sophie couldn’t help a pang of worry, remembering Murad’s mother being pulled so gracefully, so silently into its eternal light.
Edaline and Grady had come out then, just in time to watch them twinkle away.
They’d looked at Sophie in confusion. Did something happen? We thought they were staying the night.
So Sophie had silently pulled them inside to tell them what she and Fitz had found; something that changed everything and nothing at all.
That had been a little under a week ago, and she hadn’t seen Saya since.
But they’d shown up today, grinning at Olivia and exchanging polite conversation with all the guests they didn’t know.
Edaline and Grady had decided it’d been entirely too long since everyone had gotten together, and they all deserved an evening of fun and relaxation with how hard they were all working. For months Sophie’s days had been so crammed she could barely tell them apart. Between all the meetings the council wanted her sitting in on, helping Echo manage the forests and creatures, her Murad project, the reconstruction efforts, visiting Havenfield, and helping her friends with their equally busy schedules, she wasn’t sure she’d been this busy when the Neverseen and Phoenix had been at large.
And, another reason to celebrate, it’d been almost an entire year since they’d finally won.
But she set all of that from her mind, wings buzzing with excitement in their loose tailored shirts as she slipped into a seat beside Dex, nudging him affectionately with her shoulder.
He grinned back at her from his animated conversation with Elwin about something she didn’t understand, passing her one of the pastries Grady had baked.
As she bit into it, a small Brrr echoed through the room.
When she looked down, she found herself staring directly into Echo’s eyes as it perched in her lap.
She swore she could hear Tam muttering something that sounded a lot like weirdo as she pet it, trying not to sprinkle powdered sugar over it.
Linh flicked water at her brother, giving Echo a longing look from across the table.
Tam grumbled under his breath, and Keefe laughed at him with wings flashing white. They ruffled, bumping into Fitz, who’s own wings shot out and hit Biana.
She shrieked in indignation, laughing as she pushed out of her chair--Maruca reaching out to pull her back down as Wylie shook his head. Sophie saw Dex’s hand slip into his pocket, and she feared what he’d pull out of it--but that wasn’t nearly as wicked as Marella’s expression; she only ever looked like that when she knew something good was about to go down.
“Everything alright over there?” Grady called from where he’d returned to the kitchen, and Sophie couldn’t help grinning as she finished off her pastry, watching her family. Her ridiculous, weirdo family.
“Never been better.”
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