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mangekyuou · 4 years

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SEE YOU AGAIN ━ﾞ

⁺◟ CHARACTERS . . . guido mista fem!reader

⁺◟ GENRE . . . angst oneshot

⁺◟ SYNOPSIS . . . life is unfair and mista learns that the hard way after the love of his life is killed before his very eyes.

⁺◟ CONTENT WARNINGS . . . graphic descriptions of death ‘ blood

⁺◟ WORD COUNT . . . 2.1k.

⁺◟ COMMENTARY . . . i used his epilogue outfit because the purple and blue is SUPERIOR !!! and deserved more screentime. also i don’t know what it is about these types of oneshots like i literally have to hold myself back from breaking my own heart.

The sky was various shades of pink, purples, blues, and oranges. They all meshed well together, behind the setting sun and pure white clouds.

The tides from the beach came further than they had all day, the small children running from the water while screaming and cheering. Other children crying and throwing tantrums as since the sun was setting the beach was going to close soon. The smell of the sea had filled the nose of a lone tan-skinned man, setting close by the beach.

The man sat the closest table to the beach, looking out into the sea. Unlike he usually did, the man let his short black hair feel the breeze from the sea. His hat, which was different than the one he wore just a year ago, sat on the table just to the side of him.

His hat had a diagonal grid pattern to it with the front shaped like a purple downward arrow. He wore a turtle crop top sweater, similar to his hat both in color and design. On his legs, he wore tiger-striped leather pants where a short-barreled purple revolver sat in his side pocket. On his feet were dark boots that he bought recently.

Sitting in front of him sat two slices of strawberry cake. One slice sat in front of him while the other slice sat across from him on the other side of the table as if he was waiting for someone. In reality, he wasn’t waiting for anyone.

He had done it ever since last year. He would come to this very seaside restaurant, sit in this very table, and watch the slice across from him while he ate the one in front of him in silence. The staff at the restaurant at first worried for him, but now they had become accustomed to the man’s behavior.

A certain waitress even took it upon herself to plate the slices in two plates, a place a rose and candle in the middle of the table in hopes of making the man feel better, but it never worked.

A lone tear fell from his eye, down his cheek, as his head slowly fell below his head.

From inside his head, he could hear a woman’s voice.

“Giorno, protect Mista!”

Those three words had haunted him since the minute they left the mouth of the woman who had said them.

The love of his life.

( y/n ).

The woman who opened his eyes. Though their first meeting was not ideal, she had changed his life.

She had witnessed Mista kill three men in order to save a woman. When the first gunshot sounded, she immediately ran and hide behind a dumpster. She peered over the side of it, watching Mista shoot the three men with perfect accuracy. Her eyes fell onto the woman who was shaking and in bad condition and how she thanked Mista, meaning he helped her, he wasn’t the one hurting her.

But she also had witnessed him being captured by police. She was one of the few people who had believed in him and wanted him to be proven innocent.

Without a second thought, she had run to a familiar man, the same man who helped her off the street and gave her a home, Bruno Bucciarati and she informed him on the incident, pretty much begging him to help use Passione’s influence to help change Mista’s verdict and help him out of his sentence.

Her pleas did not fall upon deaf ears, Bucciarati had done just as she wished, swaying the verdict and giving Mista on a Stand fit for gunman like himself.

Sex Pistols.

Bucciarati had officially introduced the two one another and had informed Mista if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have known about his incident and wouldn’t have been able to sway the verdict in his favor.

( y/n ), the first of Bucciarati’s recruits. She was one of his neighbors and had often gone fishing alongside him and his father when they were younger. His home was like a second home for her, because she hated being home.

After Bucciarati’s father had passed away, he joined Passione and she had followed him in suit, much to his dismay. She proved herself to be an amazing addition with a Stand with an innocent-looking appearance, but it was anything but that. She was the first to officially join his team, helping him recruit the others.

She is known to be very open and accepting, and Bucciarati’s right hand.

She was.

( y/n ) had passed away a year ago, alongside her teammates, Bucciarati, Abbacchio, and Narancia. Her death had devastated the team, rather what was left of the team, Mista included.

She was the person who Mista had bought the extra slice of cake for.

It was known to the entire team how the two felt for one another. It was obvious. No matter how hard they tried to hide it. The lingering glances, the blushing, the “subtle” flirting, the hand holding and small touches that Narancia would catch, their protectiveness of one another, the way she would play in his hair, their dates to the very restaurant he sat in a year later that they tried to disguise as patrol for Stand users. It was even obvious to Giorno, the newcomer.

Even if it was obvious, neither of them were bold enough to process their relationship publicly.

She was the light of his life and she was taken away from him just as fast as the speed of light.

She sacrificed herself as a decoy against Cioccolata, only thinking of the man she had loved with all of her heart and not about herself.

Weakened, as blood had poured out of the sides of his head, he could not run after her. And that’s when she said her last words.

“I love you, Guido Mista.”

He reached out for her. His eyes were wide as he stared at the sight in front of him. It was as if time had slowed itself, as the scene before him happened slow motion. He watched as the disembodied arm, cut deep into the neck of ( y/n ), slicing through.

Tears had formed in his eyes as he watched her stop struggling, her body just...standing for a brief moment to everyone else, but to him, it felt like an eternity. Her head fell off her shoulders, falling onto the ground, rolling toward him slightly.

Her hands trembled at the sight, his dark eyes looking into the now lifeless dull ( e/c ) ones of his partner. Her mouth was agape, allowing the blood left in her head to drain out. The rest of her body finally fell, blood gushing out of her now open neck.

The first yell for her had been from Number Five, tears flowing down the cheeks of the small entity as it cried out for her as if she could hear.

Mista opened his mouth to scream, to shout, to speak, to whisper, but nothing came out. Streams of tears decorated his cheeks as he crawled to ( y/n ), desperately in hopes that despite how bad the situation looked, she would be okay, she would wake up, this was just some sort of dream.

She wasn’t really gone. There was no way. She was too strong to go out like...this.

After Cioccolata was taken care of, Giorno rushed to heal Mista. The tanned man refused. He wanted to die. He couldn’t live in a world without her.

He didn’t want to live in a world without her.

He held her head close to him, finally finding his voice. He cried for her until he couldn’t cry anymore. He screamed for her till his voice went hoarse. Even then, he whispered until he couldn’t anymore until the words no longer came out and it was just tears. Even if all he wanted was for there to be a way for Giorno to bring her back, he knew that wasn’t possibly. If it was, the blonde would have already done it instead of just standing there and letting him mourn.

As he held her in his hands for one last time, the many memories ran through his head. Her smile, her laugh, just everything about her. One memory in particular that appeared over and over was one where she laid next to him on the beach in the sand, looking at the sunset as she confided in him her past and her hopes for the future.

“I don’t want this life anymore. I want out of Passione. I...I want a better life for myself. I want a job that I don’t have to hide anyone. I want one that I can proudly show off and say that I have. Something cool! Like a doctor or a nurse! Maybe even a firefighter or an engineer! Of course, I’ll have to go to university but I’ve been saving up so I think I have enough to go now. I’m just scared to tell Bucciarati, I just want him to be proud of me...but you’ll support me, right?”

“Of course I will. I’ll follow you every step of the day,” He told her.

But her dreams never came true. She never got to go off to university. She never got to hold her degree, not even step foot inside a university classroom. Her life was just truly beginning, but it was taken away from her in a split second.

When it was all over, ( y/n ) was buried next to Bucciarati on the hilltop of a cemetery, separated from the other deceased.

Mista could not attend her funeral. He couldn’t bring himself to watch them put the love of his life in the ground and cover her with dirt. He couldn’t do it without wanting to jump in after her.

On the day of her funeral, he spent at the seaside restaurant that she adored and where they had many dates away from the team. She had only chosen this place because they served the best strawberry cake and she knew that he loved the strawberry cake.

He listened to the waves crash onto the shore, daydreaming about what could have been. Daydreaming of what it would have been like to have been Diavolo and still have her sitting in front of him with that bright smile of hers. But that was never going to happen.

The first few months of her death, he blamed himself for her death. If he was stronger, there would have been no need for her to protect him and use herself as a decoy. The image of her last moments haunted him to this day. Having to see her decapitated was not an easy sight. Watching her face drop, watching her eyes come lifeless and lose their color.

With the help of Giorno, Mista slowly began to recover and returned to himself, a bit more mature than how he was before. Witnesses the deaths of his friends and his lover had contributed to him maturing.

Mista let out a small sigh, losing his appetite. He pulled out the revolver in his pocket, emptying the barrel, six small entities coming out, and jumping onto the slice of strawberry cake, eating away. All except for one, Number Five.

Number Five, known as the crybaby of the bunch, had simply floated in the air next to Mista, watching its user with sad eyes. The sea breeze blew past, sending shivers down the Stand’s small body. As it shivered, a translucent appeared out of the corner of its eye.

Now sitting across the table was a translucent figure of a familiar woman with a bruised neck, looking at the man across the table with eyes full of admiration and love. A gasp left the entity’s mouth.

Mista picked his head up, looking to Number Five, “What’s wrong?”

Number Five pointed across the table, “Y-You don’t see that?”

Mista followed the entity’s pointed figure, finding nothing at the end, “See what? There’s nothing there. You should probably eat, you’re imagining things. ( y/n ) always did say you had quite the imagination compared to the others.”

The translucent figure giggled.

“M-M-Mista―!”

“I wonder if she’s here right now watching me eat at her favorite place. If I had a second chance I’d yell it to the world how much I love her. I just wish she didn’t leave.”

Her hand caressed his cheek slightly, her touch nonexistent. While it hurt she could no longer touch him and have him feel her, she was happy to just be in his presence.

“I never left, Mista. One day...one day I’ll see you again. Hang on until then, okay?”

⁺◟ BACK TO NAVIGATION . . .

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #guido mista #mista #mista x reader #mista x y/n #mista x oc #mista oneshots #mista scenarios #mista imagines #jjba oneshots #jjba scenarios #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #tw ― death #tw ― blood #night rather than day ── 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰. 𓂃 ★☆

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littlemessyjessi · 4 years

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“Little Wife”: Part 2: Bjorn Ironside: Vikings Imagine

Bjorn Ironside Imagine Bjorn Ironside x Reader: Plus Size Reader, PS Reader , Non Viking Reader

Freezing cold sea spray hit me right in the face as I braced myself against the side of the ship.

Much to Bjorn's annoyance...seeing as he had told me to come away from it numerous times.

I ignored him...of course.

"You'll catch death before we arrive home." he said coming up behind me and wrapping another fur around me. "I wasn't planning on bringing a dead wife back, you little demon."

Some of the men chuckled at his exasperation.

They quickly labeled me as the thorn in their leader's side...much to their enjoyment and his displeasure.

Bjorn sighed as he stood behind me.

His firm chest pressed into the soft curves of my back.

I tolerated the furs and his bulky arms wrapping around me .... because it was actually cold...but I had never been so fascinated in my life.

I'd never left my village before and all I ever saw of the sea was from the shore.

This was a different and entirely mindblowing experience.

"You're mother seemed pleased that you're marrying into royalty." he commented and I whipped around to glare up at him.

"You just had to go and ruin my moment of happiness, didn't you?" I accused him with a withering look.

A few of his men chuckled and the smirk that coated his face made me want to attack him.

He was substantially bigger than me though and I was vastly outnumbered.

"You'll be a princess." one of them commented...though I felt it was more of a tease.

"Who said I wanted to be a princess?" I grumbled and savagely clutched the furs around me as I angrily stared out at the choppy waters.

"Don't all little girls want to be princesses at some point?" the same man asked teasingly.

I glared at him venomously, "No. Do all little Viking boys want to be filthy heathens?"

The men roared in laughter.

I shrugged as I turned back to the sea, "I'd rather be a heathen than a princess."

The men cheered at me and I laughed lightly.

"I thought I'd managed to marry a filthy heathen but turns out all I got is a useless prince. What rotten luck." I said teasing Bjorn who honestly took it in good stride.

He took my teasing fairly well....even if I was a hateful little badger at times.

"Well, this useless prince has no intentions of laying with a frozen corpse so.... good night lads." he said and with that he unceremoniously swung me over his shoulder and headed towards the back of the boat.

He placed me on my feet before settling down and pulling me down into him and basically hiding me completely with the furs.

"If you'll just stay there you'll be warm." he said.

"But I can't see." I whined. "And that was the whole point of coming along. I want to see."

He blew out an irritated breath at me.

"Alright, on your left there is water and ice. And on your right, more water and ice. Behind you, oh look more water and ice and up ahead.... wait a moment- oh no- more water and ice. You're not going to see anything for a while so just still before you fall in the water."

I was beyond irritated with this attitude he had.

Who the hell did he think he was telling me what to do and honestly did he expect me to listen to him?

To his credit, I had almost fell over on more than one occasion.

I felt that hulking chest of his deflate a bit underneath me as he sighed.

In reality I knew I was probably stomping on his last nerve and I'd deserve every bit of hostility but I was just excited.

The prospect of getting away from a place I never thought I'd leave was exciting for me.

I had mixed feelings on the whole situation, of course.

Leaving friends and family but at least it stopped the pillaging and I got to see the world.... or at the very least the sea.

I looked up at Bjorn, taking in his features.

He was a very rough man sort of man and in that there was such a beauty to him.

Not that I'd ever tell him such a thing.

I had no intentions of inflating his already enormous head on the situation.

"Hey." I said and he glanced down at me to acknowledge that he'd heard me.

"Tell me about your gods." I said and he lifted an eyebrow at me.

"What?" he asked, a tiny glint flickered in his eye.

"Your gods." I said. "I don't know anything about them and while I've honestly not been very interested in the customs of my village...I guess I should know if I'm supposed to marry a ..." I stopped to fake a gag. "prince."

He chuckled at me and swatted my bottom in jest.

"What is your distaste with the idea of being a princess?" he asked.

"You answer me first." I challenged.

"Honestly, it'll take much longer to explain the gods to you." he said. "And I'm not even sure that I should be the one to do such a thing."

"Is it only gods?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"Is it only men? Are there women as well?" I asked laying my cheek upon his chest, relaxing a little into the warmth of him.

His arm pulled me closer so that his hands might lock around me.

"There are many goddesses." he said.

"It's not like that where I'm from." I remarked. "Women... women aren't looked at for much of anything in my village. To breed and bare children and if you don't...."

I didn't want to finish the tale to be honest because while I did have some fond memories of my village there were many that were not.

Bjorn seemed to notice my sudden drop in mood but I didn't really feel like elaborating on it.

He was silent for a moment.

"There is Freyja. She is a goddess of love and war." he said. "And her twin brother Freyr is a god of farming. They are both gods of fertility. We usually offer some form of swine to the twins."

"Offer?" I questioned.

"Slay it." he confirmed. "We slaughter the hog and have it in the form of feast in honor of them. Cats are sacred to Freyja as well."

"I like cats." I said. "Never had one. Tried to keep one once but it scratched me and ran off."

"That sounds like another hateful little creature I know." he teased and I lightly punched his side making him chuckle.

"Frigg is the wife of Odin. She is the goddess of wisdom and destiny. She can tug at the threads of fate. So if you stay in her favor she'll help you and if not she'll hinder you. Sound familiar?" he teased and I glared up at him.

"She's also linked with the sky, fertility, mothers and home." he said.

"Tell me more." I said sleepily snuggling into him.

His deep voice rumbled in his chest and lulled me right off to sleep.

I awoke a few hours later to the sound of laughter and the bright sun shining right in my face.

Bjorn had long since moved from beneath me and was standing near the front of the boat.

The men were merry as food and drink were passed around.

Apparently, the day was good and accordign to the talk amongst them....the gods had showed the voyage favor.

They'd pulled in many fish from the nets and there was a piece of land in the distance.

"Good morning, Princess to Be." said the same man from the night before with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

"Morning." I mumbled and narrowed my eyes but a smile on my lips none the less.

"Sten." he said and produced his hand to which I accepted and responded with my own.

"Eh, we might just call ye, Wee Demon." he teased and I shook my head at him. "Bjorn Ironside and his Wee Demon Bride."

"I'm not anyone's anything!" I snapped and he laughed.

I moved past the chuckling men and found Bjorn's hulking figure.

"Are there no women present here at all?" I asked him.

"Good morning to you too." he laughed looking out at the morning sun.

I blew a breath of frustration out through my nose.

"Good morning, dear husband to be. If it pleases you could you be so kind as to inform if any other creatures other than men inhabit this voyage?" I asked sarcastically.

He laughed at me, "Yes, there are many shieldmaidens with us. Most of which are on that boat there."

I squinted in the distance where I did in fact see many women inhabiting a particular boat.

Upon further inspection I discovered the were peppered amongst all the boats.

I guess I just didn't realize due to my excitement and exhaustion.

In fairness, they did bare many of the same hairstyles and armor.

At a glance, it wasn't that obvious.

"What's a shieldmaiden?" I asked.

"A warrior who happens to be a woman." he said.

"Can I meet them?" I asked.

"Are you interested in women?" he asked and I furrowed my brows at him.

"Excuse me?" I said. "How is that any of your business?"

"It's my business because I know those women and they'd love to get their hands on a soft, plump thing like you." he said.

"You don't own me, Bjorn." I said.

"So you keep reminding me." he said. "Even though you literally have no place to-"

"I will jump off this damn boat right now." I said staring up at him.

"Jump then." he countered.

"I would rather die than live wedded to a husband who thinks he can control me." I said. "So you let me know. Are you gonna be a tyrant or not? Because I'd rather die."

We stared each other down for the longest time.

The few moments of sweetness we had were fine but in reality.... this was not a fairy tale romance.

We'd struck a bargain but we hadn't fallen in love.

He stared at me for a moment longer before turning to the closest board and signaling them.

"Revna!" he called out and a tall woman with long black hair looked up.

In honestly, she was the most breathtaking woman I'd ever seen in my life.

The sheer power of her.

You just didn't see women like that were I came from.

The two boats came a bit closer together and he looked down at me.

"Go on then." he said. "If you're so determined to jump it shouldn't be a problem for you to swim the rest of the way."

"We can let the wee boat down for her." piped up a man from the back of the boat.

"No, let her go ahead." he said challenging me.

Mistake.

I glared at him momentarily before climbing over the side and diving into the water.

Yes, it was freezing.

Yes, it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing into me.

Yes, it felt like my lungs were about to explode as I broke the surface.

However, I'd drown before I'd let him see that.

I didn't even bother to look at him as I turned and swam towards the other boat.

The women there pulled me up and wrapped me in a fur.

I was enveloped into a ruckus of laughter, welcomes and congratulations.

I stared Bjorn down from across the water.

Truthfully, I was just as spiteful as he was but I'd be damned before I admitted that.

The woman known as Revna embraced me with a grin.

In person, she was much larger than I originally thought and quite intimidating.

"Welcome!" she said. "That was quite a move. We could've came and got you but I like a ballsy woman."

"Back off, Revna." one of the women laughed. "Apparently, she's supposed to be Bjorn's new wife."

"We'll see." I shrugged sassily and they roared in laughter.

"Fiery." Revna laughed. "I do like you."

I smiled, "He's not really so bad. He just likes to tell me what to do and I've never really reacted all that well to it."

She chuckled, "Bjorn is a decent man. He's had many a wife before but he's a decent man. He just falls in love too quick and likes to travel a lot. Sometimes this is hard on a relationship."

"I didn't know he'd been married before." I commented.

"Yeah." she chuckled passing me a bit of butter and bread. "Fair few times. A few have gotten themselves killed. Some just divorced."

"I told him I had no intentions of playing his little wife." I said before savagely cramming the bread in my mouth.

"We heard!" another woman said. "Everyone has been talking about how you might actually be the one to deal with him."

"Oh I'll deal with him alright." I grumbled.

"And so the honeymoon phase is over." Revna chuckled.

I glared at the side of his face.

If he wanted to be pissy then so did I.

Hello, darlings. Just a wee bit of a lover's quarrel, lol. They're both such tempermental brats.

I hope you enjoyed the next installment and that you have a lovely day.

Love, Kenny

@frankie2902

@pleasantdreamqueen @becrazy–beyou –beyou

@becrazy-beweird

@littledeadrottinghood @blackirisposts

@therealmrshale @woodworthti666

@jimmys-afterlife-love-deactivat @thegreatirene@fanfictionandjunk

@angelus320

@alanlizzingtonshore@buriednurbckyrd@disneymarina@@tubbypeachwriting

@sullybot @georgiagrl1990 @whenallsaidanddone

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Love, Kenny

#bjorn ironside x plus size reader #bjorn ironside #vikings #vikings x reader #vikings x plus size reader #bjorn ironside imagine #ps reader #plus size reader

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msjr0119 · 5 years

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Cordonian Wags

Introduction

In a world full of Professional footballers and their demanding wives- can their football team nicknamed the ‘Cordonian Apples’ succeed? An American female physiotherapist joins the club. Will this cause issues with the footballers wives?

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry- AU Plot switch*

Disclaimer- Mention of drug use!

I’d like to thank @pedudley for being such a superstar supporting me, listening to me ramble on with ideas about this series prior to posting - you’re amazing babe! 😘🥰

Tags: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012

*******

Riley Brooks, a sports physiotherapist- closely worked with football teams in UK. Born and raised in New York, she decided to spread her wings and study in England, when her parents had passed away. Her first job after graduating was with Manchester City- this is where she met her husband, the clubs striker Xavier López. Scrutinising job opportunities for physios, she decided to take the risk and accept the job in a completely new country. There were plenty of opportunities within the UK but she needed a fresh start.

Riley arrived in Cordonia - the little unheard of country that provided breathtaking views. It was like stepping into a fairytale. The blue sea was crystal clear- that you could see the fish swimming without taking much notice. The scattered hills provided a stunning landscape. The country itself was clean throughout and provided a friendly atmosphere.

Arriving at the Applewood Stadium, she contemplated what she was actually doing. Was she crazy? Possibly. If I don’t try- I’ll live to regret for not trying. The stadium was tiny in comparison to what she was used to. The contract she was due to sign was only for the new season. She had spoken to the teams coach, Bertrand Beaumont over the phone. Today was the day she was meeting him in person as well as the chairman Constantine Rhys. Pulling up to the security gate, she showed her ID - the security guard knew that they were expecting her and had offered to escort her to the chairman’s office once she had parked up.

****

Leo Rhys snuck into his house at 5am, still intoxicated. He knew his wife Madeleine would berate him the second she laid eyes on him. Stumbling around, he lost his balance and went flying into the expensive large vase. Laughing to himself on the floor, he knew he was going to be in dog house- yet again. Madeleine walked into the grand hallway- her arms folded, and her eyes narrowed providing daggers at her husband.

“And where the hell have you been? You have training soon!” She snapped- knowing full well that he will have been at the strip club again.

“Oh Maddy. You know what I do. I hate you. I do these things to live because quite frankly you irritate the fuck out of me!”

Madeline stormed off. She had only married him due to his status in the team - the captain. People called her a gold digger, she was and she didn’t care. She knew what she wanted and she cunningly got it.

Sneaking off to her bathroom, she created three identical fine lines before she snorted the white powder. You need sex to live darling, I need this to try and forget all the scandals you cause.

*****

Drake Walker rolled over in the king sized bed- reaching out for his girlfriend Kiara. However she wasn’t next to him. When they first began courting it was amazing. They were known as the perfect couple- ‘couple goals’. Kiara was very career minded and an independent woman. Their relationship had ‘fizzled out’ since she had began her new job- she was multilingual and worked as a translator for a local law firm. She wasn’t the usual type of footballers wife, she earned her own money. There had been suspicions by the press that Kiara had been unfaithful to Drake - these accusations constantly jeopardised her career. His friends and sister had advised him to end his relationship with her. Deep down he wanted to- but he felt like wasn’t worthy for anyone, so just accepted their failing relationship that was full of lies and deceit.

“Ki? Where are you?”

“Sorry. I went to work.”

“But it’s 6am!”

“Early start Drake. I’ll see you later, I don’t know what time?”

“Kiara have you forgotten? It’s the first day of training and the pre season party tonight!”

“Oh...good luck honey. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make the party. Have a good time.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“See ya.”

Drake just sighed after the phone call. Recently he kept making excuses up for Kiara’s absence- much to the annoyance and frustration of his friends. Tonight was going to be deja vu - ‘Drake Walker the mug’.

*****

Liam Rhys and his wife Olivia, were sat in their sun lounge having a light breakfast. Olivia was frustrated with Liam- he had been offered a transfer to Real Madrid last season but wanted to stay loyal to his home country and his family. Threatening to divorce him didn’t even make him reconsider his decision.

“I see that your brother is in the papers again.” Olivia snarled, whilst flicking through the papers.

“Liv, don’t start.”

“Why he is still the captain I will never understand. If anything he should be on the bench! He is an embarrassment to this club.”

“Love, that he may be. But it’s Leo. He’s always been the same. Maddy puts up with him - forgives him every time.”

“You deserve to be the captain Liam. You work the hardest out of all those plebs.”

Liam shook his head. He didn’t want all that responsibility of being the captain. No matter how much of a poor husband his brother was- he was a successful striker.

*****

Zeke and Penelope were the only couple in the club who had a family. They had two beautiful girls. Before training began, he always wanted to spend quality time with his daughters - taking them out for a rides on their ponies. Family time was precious.

“Go on Emma! Go on Emily! You girls are doing amazing!” Zeke shouted proudly to his daughters.

“They have definitely improved with their riding skills.” Penelope said, snuggling into her husbands embrace.

“I could watch them all day. Did you manage to get a sitter for tonight?”

“Yes, Amber offered to look after the girls and the poodles. She will be here at 5pm. Are you glad to be going back to training?”

“What do you think? I’d rather spend time with my family and our animals. I need to check Sterling’s leg before I go- he was limping a bit. Hence why Emily is riding Lady instead.”

“You really should have become a vet instead of a footballer darling. Well, good luck. I’ll see you later on.”

*****

Maxwell Beaumont, the coaches younger brother felt pressure at every match. He was the teams goalkeeper, his best friend Hana supported him, and socialised with the teams Wags. Their friendship had blossomed over the years, secretly into something more- both of them denied it when their relationship was questioned.

“Hey. Are you ready for the first training session? I’ve brought you some breakfast.”

“Thank you- you’re the best! And don’t remind me...Bertrand has been drilling it in my mind to be punctual. To concentrate and to not embarrass him.”

“Max I believe in you. What will be will be eh?”

“Yep.... I wonder how much trouble Leo is in this morning? He’s in the papers again.”

“This is why I always advise you to not go out with him- he’s a bad influence.”

“Hana, I go out with him to drink- not to do the rest of the activities he chooses. And we know why I go out drinking with him. To stop speculations about our relationship.”

*****

Bertrand was waiting in the chairman’s office along with the chairman Constantine and his wife Regina. They were all nervous about meeting their new physio. They had interviewed her over the phone and fell in love with her ambition. Would the men accept a female physio? Would they retaliate? The club had no choice- there wasn’t much interest in the position. The other interested candidates qualifications and experience didn’t compare to what Riley had. They didn’t want to tell the team straight away, in case she rejected the offer last minute. There was a slight knock on the door. Bertrand stood up to answer, and greeted her with a friendly smile.

“Hello. You must be Riley. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You are correct. Nice to meet you Mr Beaumont.”

“Welcome to Cordonia, Mrs López.”

“Thank you, Sir. Your country is absolutely beautiful. But please call me Miss Brooks. Myself and my husband have separated.”

“I do apologise- I don’t know how you must be feeling? But we are thrilled to welcome you to our club. Bertrand has the contract ready for you to sign. Then we will take you on a tour of the stadium- the team aren’t due for training for another hour. We thought you’d like to accompany us to the pre season party tonight and we will formally introduce you to everyone?”

“Oh. I was hoping to have an early night. To be prepared for tomorrow. I need the players to fill out some medical forms so I know what I’m working with.”

“I like a woman who is determined and prepared- I knew you was the perfect candidate for the role. But there’s no need to rush into your role. Our first match isn’t for another week. And we would like you to enjoy yourself too.”

“Okay, I’ll come tonight. Just let me know the time. I’ll do some preparation after the tour.”

******

The men each showed up to training. Bertrand was smiling - they all looked at him bewildered. He never smiled, he was strict with them all- even the chairman’s sons.

“Welcome back gentlemen. I’ve got a good feeling about this new season. We will just have a quick session today as we all need to get ready for the annual pre season party - and the chairman wants to introduce you all to someone later....Right let’s get to it.”

Riley stood, watching in the background- trying not to gain attention. She wanted to view how they played as a team. Hoping that there wouldn’t be too many injuries whilst she was in Cordonia. On the tour, Bertrand showed her pictures of the men and explained their positions- whilst watching them train she figured out who was who.

“Hi. You must be Riley.”

Riley jumped before turning around to see a mystery brunette smiling at her softly- whilst holding a toddler in her arms.

“Erm. Yes. Nice to meet you...?”

“Sorry! My manners. My name is Savannah Beaumont- Bertrand’s wife. Drake Walker is my brother. I hear that you are from the States? Myself and Drake are American too- on our mothers side. I hope you’ll settle in just fine. They aren’t a bad bunch really.” Is she kidding? I’ve been watching them for ten minutes and already their egos are getting the best of them and they are already arguing.

“No offence Savannah, but I know you are lying about them not being a bad bunch. I know how footballers minds work. I’m married to one myself. Yes, I grew up in New York but I moved to the UK where I studied and later worked in Manchester.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were married- I suppose the wedding ring gives it away huh?” Riley twiddled her rings with her thumb before laughing nervously.

“I won’t be married for much longer. We have separated- I started the ball rolling with the divorce before I left. That is why I came here when the opportunity came up. A fresh start.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Riley. If you ever need anyone to talk to I’m here.”

“Thank you. But I’m only here to do a job. Then when the season is up- I’ll move on. I’m going to go to my flat, I’ve seen enough. I’ll see you at the party?”

“Yes, you will. See you later.”

Just this brief conversation, made Savannah’s mind work overtime. She believed that Riley was intelligent, she was beautiful. She couldn’t suss out why she would be separated- she didn’t want to elaborate on the situation and seem nosey.

*****

Drake pulled Liam to the side after noticing his sister talking to a stranger, whilst they were stretching. Savannah wasn’t one to socialise with people she didn’t know.

“Who’s Sav talking to?”

“I don’t know? Why? She’s probably one of Leo’s flings. You know how they all come and stalk him after he uses them. She’s gorgeous- don’t tell Liv I said that. She would stab me - quite literally!”

“I doubt Savannah would be acting so calm with one of your brothers flings Li. If Bertrand asks where I am- just tell him that Sav needed me.”

Drake ambled over to where his sister was - she was content sat under the tree with his nephew, Bartie. The mystery woman had disappeared, like a ghost. Taking his top off, he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“Hey Sav.”

Savannah was playing with her son, not noticing the figure appear beside her. Feeling like she had a mini heart attack- she was ready to throttle her brother.

“Drake! You scared me! Your brother in law will go berserk if you’re not training.”

“So? Who was you talking to?”

“Why do you ask?” She smirked.

“Just curious. Liam assumed she is one of Leo’s flings.”

“Incorrect. You’ll see her tonight.”

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise, I’ll see you and Kiara at the party.”

“It’ll just be me. She’s erm... she’s...”

“Cheating on you Drake. You always seem to make excuses up for her. Since she started that job nobody has seen her- the press have snapped pictures of her with mystery men. You deserve better, big brother.”

“They are her colleagues, Sav!”

“Oh really? What’s the excuse going to be tonight Drake? I love you, I just want you to be happy.”

Savannah held her brother in a tight hug. She walked away furious with Kiara’s actions.

#theroyalromance #choices trr #riley brooks #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #hanalee #bertrand beaumont #trr constantine #trr regina #savannah walker #liam rhys #leo rhys #trr kiara #trr madeleine

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rosepetals-flyingbirds · 5 years

Text

Freedom.

With: Sigurd Snake In The Eye x Reader.

Word Count: 2,1K.

When Sigurd left his previous home -the great hall-, his intentions were solely to have peace, Lagertha took her throne back and Sigurd accepted her peace offer.

But even with that, he couldn’t sleep in the same place she does now.

A small house near a lake was enough for the young prince. Sigurd has born in riches but he didn’t make such a fuss about it.

The place was quiet enough, mostly young couples with a higher way of life or honored families by the Earl.

A singular couple, the man and woman residing straight next to his home, were the first to introduce themselves to him.

Sigurd had to accept, the couple was somewhat unpaired. The man spoke stiffly with doubtful words, while the woman was completely gorgeous.

Her smile was entirely poisonous, and each word was smart and sounded important.

Sigurd became interested in his neighbors.

Over the season that he lived there, the neighbors have become closer, almost to the point of friendship. The couple would invite him for dinner nearly twice a week, and Y/N would prepare the tastiest meals, while her husband sat and cleaned his fishing materials.

Sigurd had come to learn that Y/N’s family was quite prosperous, and when she married, Hródolf had gained command of her supplies, buying a home and making sure that the golds and silver were emptied just enough so that she fully depended on him.

Regrettably for her, the way she was raised -being a child of a strong warrior with uncountable riches while alive- had left her with no work abilities, besides planting.

It had to be her enthusiasm in her lonesome childhood, her nanny back in the day loved planting and taught Y/N pretty much everything. And even if cold Kattegat was, the plants seemed to blossom gorgeously under Y/N’s sweet touch.

Sigurd and Hródolf had a sort of deal. Sigurd loved to hunt and to spend some time alone in his family’s cabin, sometimes he would visit his brothers but he grew used to be alone. So Hródolf would give the prince some fishes and Sigurd would bring some meat for Y/N prepare meals with.

…

After a day with his brothers, Sigurd was finally coming home, it was late at night. He was almost opening his door when he heard a loud crash. His eyes shot to his surroundings, trying to find the noise, which was accompanied by a man’s roar. The words were incomprehensible but Sigurd knew the man might be angry.

When he listened to a higher feminine voice he understood that it must be his neighbors. He entered his home, mind at rest as he prepared a bath for himself.

After bathing for bed, he finally met his deserved sleep.

The next morning, he took a piece of bread from the table and left to meet Ubbe on the shore. The place was quiet and Sigurd didn’t see Hródolf’s small boat, he glanced around and found it weird.

Chewing his last slice of bread he went to Y/N’s door and knocked twice. When she opened Sigurd took a genuine look at her.

A long -cheap- sleeved dress hid her appearance from his eyes, but what took the young prince’s attention was the huge purplish circle under her left eye and her red neck.

He grew instantly troubled.

“What happened to you, Y/N? Was it Hródolf?” Sigurd asked, interest carved into his normally hard highlights. Y/N’s delicate voice interfered him, a little smile on her damaged face.

“Don’t worry, I fell in the docks yesterday, a boat was near and I hit my eye.” She said, voice tied with fear. “Hródolf separated your fishes, prince. Will you take them now? I can clean if you want…”

Sigurd was gazing her form and even forgot about the stupid fishes. Out of instinct, he touched her arm in an attempt to see the further damage, when she whimpered at the touch he grabbed the hem of the sleeve and tried to lift only to be met with her hand stopping him.

But as a prince he had somewhat a power over her, shaking his head slightly she retrieved her touch and Sigurd took the sleeve up until her elbow, and just as he expected: Purples marks as well.

It wasn’t his business, but he couldn’t allow that sort of behavior. “Has he done that before?”

Y/N kept silent, crossing her arms and looking at her feet. “It is my fault.”

“Don’t you dare to say that.”

“But it’s! I was stupid, I fell in love with him, I was young and an orphan, he used his charm and I was a fool to believe in his love!” She said with glassy eyes staring at him, almost touching his soul.

Sigurd was heartbroken to hear such a thing, even more, to see that she believed it was her fault that the fucker didn’t appreciate the amazing woman he had. “And now I don’t have any riches left, everything I had he used. I ran away once, but has no work for me… and is better to live in that way than becoming a whore.”

Silence overtook the place, Sigurd tried to find a way to save her. Of course he had an interest in her, but how could he steal a woman from her house? Yes, he was a prince but it would screw all of his peaceful scenarios.

Letting a sigh he shook his head. “Fuck that.” He mumbled under his breath, Y/N was taken aback by the answer. “I’ll have a nice chat with him, and then I’ll take you out of here.”

Y/N bit her tongue, he would “save” her only to have her until he grew tired and start to treat her like an animal.

She knew very well what men did. She learned it in the hard way.

“With all due respect, my prince, I don’t want to leave my house which was bought with my gold only to go to another man’s bed.”

“This isn’t what I have in mind, even if I consider you the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and the fact that seeing you in pain makes me want to kill that bastard.” He took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t force you in marriage or take you away without your consent. You said you don’t have work abilities but I have a perfect purpose for you.” He stated and Y/N was confused, what she could do?

…

Lagertha said she didn’t have any bitterness nor problem against the sons of Ragnar. And Sigurd being the calmer one asked for a favor, he explained Y/N’s situation and how great she was with flowers, and how some vegetables grew perfectly under her touch.

Lagertha knew how women were treated and agreed to have her, not as a slave, but as a worker. So Lagertha told Sigurd about a farm she has a few miles from the great hall and that Y/N could live with the old couple who took care of the place.

When Sigurd told Y/N, she was amazed and hugged him tightly. Not only she could get freed from her terrible husband, but she could earn her own independence.

But then, she grew worried. “He’ll kill me.”

“Don’t you bother about that, I told Lagertha what he did and she hates violence against women.” Y/N nodded, after all, Lagertha was a shieldmaiden and ruled by herself. “So if you want, she will cast him out or kill him. It is your decision.”

Y/N looked around her house and unconsciously held her necklace, Mjölnir in her hand and a praise being sent to Thor…

(…) She had prayed for him so many times, and Y/N knew that Hródolf would find and kill her… was him or her. “I want her to kill him.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll kill him myself.”

Sigurd took Y/N to the farm Lagertha has mentioned, Hródolf was still in the sea on his fishing, so the process of taking Y/N away was easier.

When the man got back to find his house empty he started to yell her name… along with some profanities.

Sigurd left his house with a sword. “She is not there.”

“What do you mean she isn’t here? Where is she?” He asked angrily, completely forgetting he was addressing to a prince.

Darting his eyes to Sigurd’s residence Hródolf shook his head. “Is she there? That whore opened her legs for you?” He took large steps near Sigurd.

The prince with a snake in the eye didn’t seem disturbed, and it irritated Hródolf profoundly.

The man tried to punch Sigurd who dodged in time and kicked Hródolf’s arse making him fell on the floor. “You know, when I first saw her I got mesmerized. So beautiful, so smart, so… delicate. Yet, married with a pig like you.”

Hródolf grunted and tried to get on his feet but Sigurd inserted his sword on the man’s leg making him scream. “Only cowards hurt women! But you’re not only a coward but a thief as well.” Splitting the man’s skin open, he looked the blood falling in the sand. “Stole her money and everything her father had achieved.”

Sigurd stabbed the other leg making another scream mix between the tranquil place’s sound.

Hródolf looked at his legs before glancing at the man. “You think you’re a hero?!” He started to laugh. “You’re a damned prince! Born in all the riches, had everything you could want, all the women.”

“You’re right, but I would never lay a finger on them.” He stated and kicked the man’s face, he wanted him to feel what Y/N felt, maybe even more. “But enough, I’m tired of you already. Y/N will live the life she deserves and you’ll die as the coward you’re.” Sigurd touched the tip of his shining sword in the man’s chest, blood running down his nose due to the kick, and his legs’ skin split open.

Hródolf was crying and begged for mercy, but Sigurd could only see Y/N’s glassy eyes and the injuries on her body. Sigurd retrieved for a second sensing a stab in the heart would be too merciful.

Placing his sword on its holster Hródolf started to thank the prince, who smirked at his stupidity.

Sigurd walked to Hródolf’s boat and grabbed some rope, walking back to the spot he saw blood in the sand and Hródolf’s weak efforts of crawling out of the scene.

Sigurd pulled the man’s leg and intertwined the rope around it, the yells were already irritating him, but it was a good plan -almost Ivar’s plan, he thought-, he did the same process around the man’s torso and dragged Hródolf’s body until the end of the sand when it met the ocean, letting him laying in the cold sand.

With each wave coming Hródolf was covered in salty water, the salt would burn his wounds but he wouldn’t die as fast, which was what Siggurd wanted.

He wanted Hródolf to suffer for everything he did sweet Y/N go through.

As the water came and went he coughed and tried to crawl back, which was impossible since his legs and arms were tightly convoluted with ropes. And with the salty water burning his wounds, the man was agonizing.

Sigurd was proud of his plan, he grabbed an apple inside his home and sat warm in his furs watching the suffering of the man who dared to hurt Y/N.

…

Days passed and Sigurd stood living in his house alone, forthwith no longer neighbors. It was somehow lonely, he and Y/N weren’t much close but he used to have dinner with her and her -now dead- excuse of a husband.

His routine stood variously as always, sometimes he would hunt, other times meet his brothers, even a few travels here and there.

The young prince was grateful to Lagertha for helping Y/N, and he visited her sometimes, she was… brighter. Happier.

And he loved to see it.

Y/N was grateful to Sigurd, he helped her so much and she knows she would never be able to thank him enough.

…

A few years passed and along the years Sig visited Y/N almost four times per month, she taught him how to plant and a strong friendship developed.

Sigurd's feelings weren’t wrong when he first saw Y/N, the vision of such a pretty woman in front of him, and the feeling of confusion when he witnessed the pig she was married with.

But now she was freed, she was no longer being possessed and without any sort of metal with her. The plantations grew more prosperous and Lagertha was happy since her people were well fed.

Sigurd surprisingly found joy planting with her, and Y/N actually said he was good with it.

A few time further, Y/N was in love with the man. She thought she was at first, but was too afraid to let someone in after the entire Hródolf past.

But Sigurd wasn’t a bad man, no, he was a good one.

Sigurd found his luck then, he would raid when required but he married Y/N and both moved to a beautiful wood house near the former one she was living with the old couple.

It was hers! And in that way, she could have her privacy with her loving husband and keep with her job, her choice, since Sigurd would give her the whole world if she asked him to.

Even being a daughter of a great Viking warrior, she never thought she could marry a prince, but life has its plans.

…

#sigurd x reader #sigurd snake in the eye x reader

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yaboymercury · 5 years

Text

Ripping 9 to 5 - Sailor

(Re upload since the original was flagged for the pic)

Joining the navy seemed to be the only way for Sam to escape his parents constantly pestering him about why he didn’t have a wife yet, since he really didn’t want to have to own up about his sexuality, at least not yet. Also being a repressed gay soul he found the purely masculine energy on the ship refreshing.

Being a gay sailor seemed to feel like a bit of a stereotype for Sam before he joined the ship but when he finally did, he found out the rumour had some truth to it. He hadn’t seen anything too explicit but he was certainly getting a certain recognisable energy from a lot of the guys and some of them seemed to be very touchy with eachother occasionally.

But in spite of all of this Sam only really had his eyes on one of the guys. He didn’t even know his name but he saw him from over the other side of the kitchen sometimes. He has rust coloured hair and deep penetrating eyes which he had made contact with on occasion. But of course what caught his attention most was his beautiful bouncing ass which filled up the back of his white trousers very comfortably. The man also seemed to be quite popular and outgoing having an overbearing presence which made people around him want to get close with him.

In spite of all this Sam was quite introverted and struggled to find any reason to talk to the man. But he did feel a sense of urgency since he could tell that a few of the other men had their eyes on his amazing ass as well. He would have to make a move soon.

But instead it all seemed to happen by chance, and not go exactly the way he imagined.

Sam had finished his duties for the day when he was on his way back to his room to collapse on his bed. He was so exhausted he didn’t realise that there was someone walking close behind him so when he stopped for a moment to get his bearings the person behind him pushed right into him pushing him onto the ground.

“Oh shit shit shit! Sorry I should have been paying more attention you had kind of distracted me, let me help you up.”

Sam turned around on the floor to be greeted by the beautiful sight of the man he recognised from all the time he had spent staring at him, who was bent over outstretching his hand with a bashful smile.

Still lost for words and staring agape at the man helping him Sam accepted his hand and was helped up.

“Shit I’m so sorry about that.. I haven’t seen you around here much since recently, I’m John”

He said shaking Sam’s hand which he was still holding from helping him up.

“Um Sam, my name is Sam and thanks for helping me…”

Before he could continue he felt a sharp pain in his ankle and winced in pain his knees falling a little and he stupidly fell into the chest of John. He couldn’t help but notice how strongly he smelt of sea salt and sweat.

“Crap I think I sprained my ankle”

Helping him find his feet again John said apologetically.

“Shit I really did hurt you, well it’s a good thing my room is close my I have a first aid kit to see if I can do anything.”

Sam blushed at how kind the man was being but also found himself lucky that he was getting so close to John so quickly and it didn’t even have to resort to scheming.

“Yeah sure that sounds great, mind if I get some help though” Sam asked as he slung his arm around John’s almost comically wide shoulders so he could hobble next to him on the short walk to his room, making sure to get more deep whiffs of his masculine aura.

The cabins on the ship are all quite basic and John’s was no exception housing only a desk with some drawers and a single bed. One thing which was very common also on the ship was bad lighting so the dim light lead to an oddly rough and sensual atmosphere in the room.

John invited Sam to sit on the bed while he bent down and fished in the drawers in the meanwhile bending down so his ass was only centimetres away from Sam’s face.

The temptation was strong for Sam and the least he could do was take a weak sniff just to get more pheremones from this beautiful man. When he did the result surprised him.

Unlike the relaxing yet strong salty scent the rest of John had his ass was significantly more musky and dirty smelling even through his thick trousers. With only a short inhale Sam coughed a little prompting John to glance back at him.

“Oh crap I’m so clumsy today, my ass is almost right in your face and i guess it might smell a little bit, umm I guess if we spend more time together you’ll find out why.”

John was now crouching at Sam’s knee holding a ice pack to where the bruising was on his knee. Opting to be braver than he usually was, and overlooking the majority of John’s sentence having forgotten the smell Sam asked.

“So you want us to spend more time together?”

The question certainly got John’s attention as he looked up from Sam’s knee and dropped the ice pack in shock. His shock then turned into an interested smirk as he pushed himself of the floor put his arms on either side of Sam on the bed and brought his face mere centimetres away from Sam’s.

“I could see that working”

And after that sentence they both simultaneously joined in an hungry kiss. In that moment the tension in the room lifted as both men realised they had the same intentions.

Finally breaking from the embrace John stood up fully and walked to the door.

“Is it okay if I lock this?”

He asked Sam suggestively being unable to hold back a grin.

“I would expect no less” Sam replied lifting his shirt off and walking up to John as he finished locking up and lifting his up as well.

As Sam lead John by hand back to his bed there was a deep rumble in John’s stomach.

“Shit” Sam heard John mumble to himself “Not fucking now”

Lifting his head up to make awkward eye contact with Sam John asked “Will it be okay if I just head outside for just a minute or two?” Sam thought it was a little weird nodding but luckily John continued saying “Don’t worry I’ll be right back” with a wink as he walked to the door.

Unfortunately for him it rattled a little as he pulled at it and he tried the key but it was jammed.

“Shit, shit , shit” Another stereotype Sam was beginning to notice was the whole swearing like a sailor thing.

“You alright over there?” he asked half knowing the answer “Your ‘situation’ can’t be that bad can it I really don’t mind you being a 'giver’ to be honest it’s a preference”

His lewd proposition went completely over the other man’s head who seemed to be sweating a little and looked quite panicked “No it’s not that kind of situation, well not completely…”

Sam was quite a naturally helpful kind of guy so he wants to calm him down walking up behind him. “Sorry I feel quite stupid I have no idea what you’re alluding to but it can’t get too much in the way of the fun can it?”

John was far too busy panicking looking at the door lock to fully prepare for Sam to out his arms around his waist and put his crotch on his ass. The motion was intended to revive the sensual atmosphere but all it did was increase the bursting pressure inside John and finally lead to release.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAP

The unmistakable sound rocketed right against Sam’s barely covered member and being completely in shock from what happened the pleasure from the powerful vibrations came as a surprise and lead to the man letting out a wholly involuntary moan. But of course right after this the rank meaty fishy blast of air reached his nostrils. Sam sometimes got really bad gas himself and working on a ship meant he was around some bad smells all the time, but nothing even on this level. It felt like the inside of his nose was burning and he began to wretch at the terrible stink.

Skipping all embaressment however all John could focus on was the moan that he got out of Sam. Spinning around the face the man who was violently coughing into his fist he said almost accusingly: “You enjoyed that, you moaned, you got pleasure out of that!”

His face lit up from his seeming discovery of a fart fetishist, not giving any time for Sam to recover from the smell he continued. “So I’m sure you can tell by now that I’ve got terrible gas, it’s pretty much constant, but don’t get it twisted I love it, the feeling of relief and the smell of my own brew, but I’m sure you can tell that it could be debilitating sexually. But it seems like I found my solution!” He finished his speech grabbing the still wretching on the lingering stink Sam by the cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.

“Since I started noticed you in the hallway I have been holding in my gas, so I’m not really sorry to say but you deserve this since I guess it’s kind of your fault…. but hey you enjoy it” John said pulling Sam over to the bed.

Finally recovering Sam began to understand John’s misunderstanding but not knowing how to articulate himself he just stuttered on his words and couldn’t finish a sentence, which John just translated into excitement which was actually a massive panic.

Before Sam could do anything he had been pushed down on the bed and John was getting into position to squat over his head. He was freaking out but this was his one opportunity to properly tell John what he was feeling but then he caught sight of that ass again.

It was now hovering around above him almost hypnotising him with its beauty. Stinking beauty.

In his distraction he had missed all of what John had been saying, but he didn’t care he was taking of his trousers and now his underwear. His ass had a layer of hair getting darker nearer the crack which Sam loved and began salivating at the sight of it even getting a little peek of the hole inside.

“..so I’m sure you won’t mind using my flatulence as a substitute when you inevitably run out of air” He finally registered what John was saying and it scared him back into reality but by that point it was too late. Sam could barely finish saying 'Wait’ by the time he was engulfed in John’s gorgeous pungent butt.

He hadn’t even ripped one yet but the smell of his ass was overwhelming and becuase of how massive it was Sam couldn’t experience anything else except muffled hearing of what John was saying.

“Ahhh I’m so lucky that your hot face makes such a comfortable seat, literally I can feel your nose right in my hole!” Sam thought that was kind of a compliment? But the last part certainly scared him. He thought he could maybe get used to this but then it begun.

“Think the canons are ready to fire Sam so prepare for impact”

PHRRRRRRRRRRRAP

FRRRRRPPPPT

RAAAAAAAAAARPP

The sound and the smell of the flatulence was tenfold due to Sam being stuck in the abyss of John’s ass and all of the stink was free to go up his nose. It was rank, the powerful meatiness and fishiness but altogether rotten rancid stench made Sam feel like he was inhaling toxic fumes and his eyes even began to water.

In contrast to this John was moaning at the relief of letting it out.

“Oh god Sam I can even smell that up here and god I’m a stinker I can’t help but be proud of it” Sam could hear John say as he began to rub his ass even more into Sam’s face. Sam could even tell John was beginning to jerk off, at least someone was enjoying this.

FAAAARP

PUUUUUUUUUUUUURAP

RRRRRRRRRP

The cacophony of gas continued and Sam began to buck and attempt to scream into John’s ass for freedom.

“Oh it’s good to hear you’re enjoying it down there, you really are a bit of a slut for my stink.” John said as he began to jack of Sam with his spare hand.

'Wait’ Sam thought 'How the fuck do I have a boner?’. He was stuck under a hot man’s ass being forced to inhale his anal pheremones. Thinking it over it did make a bit more sense.But it didn’t stop it from stinking so much!

The farts and moans from John continued as Sam’s grip to consciousness began to slip, but the hand job from John was about to pay off. But at that moment John stopped turned around and looked at Sam’s sweaty face and placed his ass cheeks around Sam’s pulsating dick.

“Oh you look a little rough and God damn your face reeks, but I can only blame myself for that, but if anything I think you look cuter.” He said with a wink.

All Sam could get out was “Fuck you stink…”

“Haha I Know but you love it, so let’s finish this”

And with that he pulled his dick one last time cumming all over your chest and simultaneously let out his last blasting fart to forcefully vibrate Sam’s cock past the point of climax and lead to one of the stinkier orgasms of his life.

Sam couldn’t help but let out a moan which was stopped short by a deep kiss from John which when over they both inhaled, with Sam coughing on the residual stink of the room while John took a proud whiff of his handiwork.

John pulled the blanket over the both of them and pulled Sam right into his chest not caring about the cum.

Whispering to Sam he said “So now we know eachother a little better I propose you share this bed with me on a more permanent basis… I’m sure I can pull a few strings… Let’s sort out the technicalities in the morning. Goodnight and smelly dreams”

Excited but terrified at what this meant for him Sam didn’t even notice the cover being pulled over his head. One rancid rip under the covers from John and Sam was out.

#eproctophilia #fart #fart story #fartfiction #gay #gay fart #stink #male fart #flatulence #r9t5 #man fart #reupload

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citrontartellete · 5 years

Text

I want you and always will

So, hello again :). I´m completly obssessed with this show, someone save me !! So this one is based in of my favourites songs ever that is “Oceans’ by Seafret and to me this song scream their names. So here is a kind of angsty fic with happy end and smut at some point.

Pre - Armageddon

‘Good evening you are listening to BBC Radio 1’

Yeah I want you

And nothing comes close

To the way that I need you

I wish I could feel your skin

And I want you

From somewhere within

Crowley sighed and rolled the glass scotch between his handsclosing his eyes listening to the music. For the first time in years Crowley bothered to listen to the radio, the apocalypse was near and he wanted to do something different. Following the silly human cliché of doing something you never did before. He took a sip of his scotch and sighed again, biting his lips his mind going back to a few hours ago, replaying everything that Aziraphale, his angel, had told him. He then watched carefully as a tiny bit of hope showed up on the angel’s face and the dreamy look on his too blue and beautiful eyes and Crowley dared to hope too. Dared to hope about only their side existing, away up in the stars just the two of them, living in a small house on Alpha Centauri or Gallyfrey. Gallyfreian people were such nice understanding people they would accept them with no trouble, no more reports, no more thwarting or wiles, no more head offices Beezebuth or Gabriel or any of this, just the two of them in a nice planet with nice people trying to finally be happy. Where he could finally, touch, kiss, and tell everything he felt and had to swallow down every fucking day for almost six thousand years. Those bloody feelings he kept for ages bottled up inside him.

‘Go off together ? Listen to yourself !’

His mind supplied, the hopeful tone on his angel’s voice, of course Aziraphale wanted this as much as he did, just as badly it was written all over his face. Of course, he refused it to both actually go off with him, to actually leave all this stupid nonsense behind and just be happy. Stupid, stupid, stupid angel! Their fucking head offices didn´t give a fuck about them. Crowley thought angrily, feeling the tears sting in his eyes. He just wanted a chance with Aziraphale, to touch him properly. He recalled all the times they´ve encountered each other through the history and the small weeks they would take off together to get drunk and mock their respective head offices, and just talk. How close they were of each other staring, almost touching, and almost giving into those feelings bubbling under their skin, the longing afterwards. He could feel the angel´s eyes follow his every move when they were together how Aziraphale would fixate his eyes on his lips every time Crowley took a cup or a glass to his lips, or ate a bit of food. The angel would lick his lips and close his eyes sighing in resignation. Crowley knew, he have watched and replayed every little moment on his mind, torturing himself with it, wanking himself to the memories of these small stolen moments when their fingers brushed together or when he and Aziraphale got too close or their knees and shoulders brushed together.

Imagining how touch his angel must feel, if his skin was soft like it seemed, how it would be run his hands for those blonde white curls and trace his lips with his fingers following their shape, to hold on Aziraphale soft lovely body while they were deep in passion and letting out all those eons of hiding their feelings behind.

Crowley took another sip of his scotch and got up. Would not do dwell on these thoughts right now. He was going to the bookshop again, he was going to beg the angel to come with him to Alpha Centauri or Gallyfrey or Pluto since the angel said yes to him. He just needed to convince him to come to the stars.

It didn´t work. His angel kept stuck with that stupid idea of talking with the Almighty, so She could fix it. God as always was moving in mysterious ways, God writes straight with crooked lines, because none ever knew God’s plans for heaven´s sakes. Not even angels.

‘I´m going home angel. I´m getting my stuff and I´m leaving and when I´m off in the stars I won’t even think about you’ It was the worst and more hurtful lie that ever escaped his lips. Of course, he would think about Aziraphale and he knew that in no time he would be back to beg him again, actually beg, get on his knees if he needed to.

I want you

And I always will

I wish I was worth

But I know what you deserve

You know I'd rather drown

Than to go on without you

But you're pulling me down

He lost Aziraphale and nothing made any sense. He had lost his angel, the world could fuck explode right now he didn´t care, he is going to just sit in this pub and drink himself until the skies were red and comets were crashing down the atmosphere and the sea turned into a massive bowl of bouill- bouilla whatever name the French called that fancy fish stew of theirs. He had no reason to fight anymore. Crowley would gladly spent the eternity doing whatever he was told to or causing problems or listening the Heavens torturing the demons with The Sound of Music for all he care. He started to pray silently that the rain crashing outside would be one of holy water, heavy fat droplets of holy water. Be discorporate was still a better option than live without Aziraphale. His life would be so empty without him and that endless faith and love, grace, and he did not even add the fact that Aziraphale was a enough of a bastard worth knowing. He recalled being an angel sometimes. It was when he first saw Aziraphale, before he sauntered downwards, that gracious angel with an easy smile helping the cherubs with their chores of looking cute all the time, and following Gabriel´s steps without a word of complaint even though the archangel would throw orders at him. Crowley followed Lucifer and the guys, and every time he feels guilty and unworthy of Aziraphale and everything that he is. He hates himself so much for it. Why he did not have seen it before? Defying the Almighty, asking questions when they were made with sole purpose of obeying and do as they were told. Nevertheless, he was curious, curious about what was that about. About the questions, he wanted answers. Why was this so wrong Up There ? He just wanted to know and that would have been his damnation. If he hadn´t asked or went to the bloody meetings with Lucifer he could be with Aziraphale right now, both in heaven, fighting side by side. It was fun though, how his world revolved around the angel. His angel.

Post Amargeddon’t and Trials.

Crowley watched Aziraphale feeling a little dazzled. Watched as he moved around his flat to fetch more champagne, to talk with his plants covering the little traitorous bastards with love and compliments. He only followed him resting his body against the doorframe as Aziraphale listened to what the plants were saying, the champagne flute on his hand, bare feet and without so many clothes, the light making his white blonde curls glisten, his cheeks flustered and an easy happy smile on his face.

‘Oh thank you !’ he said to the bindweed over the small fence that Crowley had placed against the wall, the white flowers vigorous and shining more than ever ‘Oh, really ? I didn’t know that !’ the angel said. gently lifting his eyes from the plants to stare at Crowley his eyes blue eyes so bright, it almost seemed to Crowley that all the stars were dancing in his angel´s eyes ‘Oh….Are you sure of this darling ?’ he asked the plant, gently turning to a large pot of lemongrass.

The same lemongrass that Crowley would take to the angel, under the excuse of drinking fresh tea instead of the boxed ones because ‘Really angel for all you know these teabags must be filled with all sorts of chemicals, here lets have fresh tea !’ Actually, nothing made Crowley happier than seeing the knowing smile on Aziraphale´s face and he loved take the product of so much hard work to the angel (Not that shouting at the plants count as hard work when it comes to gardening). It made him immensely happy.

‘Enough angel you´ll spoil ‘em’ The demon said.

‘But darling, they were just telling me how much you talk about me’ the angel said amused never breaking the eye contact, leaning a little to listen what a bromeliad had to say as well, Aziraphale giggled ‘Yes, he is lovely, indeed’ the angel winked at him.

Crowley gasped. Aziraphale winked at him and his plants beamed the little fucking bastards beamed and giggled. Where are their respect for him? He would teach them a lesson later. Crowley walked to Aziraphale and took him by the hand taking him out of the greenery, swearing and murmuring under his breath about what he would do to them. He had not noticed when the angel interlocked their fingers together trying to supress his laughter.

‘Honestly, darling don’t threat the poor things like this they are not lying’ Aziraphale said and Crowley came to a halt in the middle of the corridor leading to the living room the angel taking advantage of the moment, slowly wrapped his arms around the demons´ torso, resting his cheek on his back and Crowley wanted to scream. He closed his eyes and swallowed the scream down his throat, squeezing his eye shut, feeling the angel´s fingertips move gently through the thin fabric of his shirt in light caresses sending shivers down his spine, making him almost moan. Then Crowley felt a light kiss on his shoulder and bit back another moan. It was a butterfly kiss only. It was not worth a moan, really. However, Aziraphale´s warm lips against his cold skin even over the fabric of his shirt is….is….Oh God.

He waited so long for it, for this touch even if it is this gentle, even with a layer of fabric separating his angel´s beautiful soft lips from his skin.

Crowley´s brain short-circuited when he felt the angel place a small open-mouthed kiss on the back of his neck, he went weak on the knees, if Aziraphale wasn´t holding him so tight he´d fallen to the floor. If that had happened he would have worshipped Aziraphale by kissing his feet and hands in utterly devotion, offering himself in abandon to his angel take his claim on him. He felt the angel clutch him closer, flushing their bodies together. He would not mind if it was one time drunk thing, a moment of adrenaline after being through so much. Crowley just needed it; he just needed the angel’s touch, the angel taking him in any way he wanted to have him. Crowley would be his gladly. Even if God Herself smite him afterwards. He did not care.

Aziraphale stopped touching him and he let out a despaired noise escape his mouth and begged on a pained tone of voice

‘Please angel, please, don´t stop, don´t stop….’ The demon almost sobbed.

‘Darling, please stop thinking. I can hear it’ the angel answered calmly. Then Aziraphale spun him around and placed a hand on his cheek, he leaned on the touch kissing the angel´s palm eyes fluttering close, feeling Aziraphale caress his cheek with the pad of his thumb, and slowly dragging it through the demon skin until it reached his lips, tracing them, rubbing his finger there. Crowley whimpered, parting his lips allowing the angel to continue his exploration ‘So beautiful….’ Aziraphale whispered and kissed him. Licking into his mouth, tracing his tongue and teeth with his tongue, sucking on it. Making hard to Crowley to keep control of his body. He barely noticed that he had miracle them on his bedroom making Aziraphale laugh a little on his lips.

They started to divest each other with trembling hands and impatient huffs.

‘We could just miracle them away, darling…’ Aziraphale suggested panting a little after another breath-taking kiss, while Crowley fumbled with his pants.

‘No angel, I´ve waited too long for this moment to just miracle them away’

When they finally were free of clothes. Crowley felt his back collide against the mattress the angel all over him, kissing his neck and down his chest, playing with his nipples alternating licks and gentle bites making the demon arch his back, kissing each one of his ribs while interlocking their fingers, whispering praising lovingly words.

‘You’re so beautiful like this, darling’ Crowley dug his fingers on the angel´s shoulder, running his nails over the skin whimpering each time the angel lowered his kisses more, reaching his hipbone, tracing soft kisses on his thighs the demon screamed in pleasure when the angel took him in his mouth, licking his cock head first and ever so slightly taking him, never breaking their eye contact or the hold on his fingers. When Aziraphale started to bob his head, almost closing his eyes Crowley lose it and he moved his hips in soft thrusts.

‘Aziraphale….’ the angel moaned around his cock, sending electric shocks through his body. He was sure he could not hold it any longer and then he came on his angel´s mouth with a cry, squeezing Aziraphale’s fingers with a breaking force. Aziraphale smiled at him from between his legs and he pushed the angel up by the shoulders, kissing him violently tasting himself on his angel tongue watching as Aziraphale moved slowly. How can the angel be so calm about this? So patient. He straddled Aziraphale, resting his hands on both his cheeks kissing him desperately while whispering on his lips ‘Take me angel, take me...Make me fully yours’ He sobbed on the angel´s lips biting them and then kissing him brutally again.

A few moments later Crowley felt Aziraphale´s fingers inside preparing him, while the angel sucked bruises on his neck and shoulders. Why was Aziraphale taking so long to be inside him? Why? Crowley thought with despair. He was getting impatient. Needed the angel inside him, it was an overwhelming need. The only thing he could think about right now. But before he could complain again, Aziraphale was sliding inside him carefully, watching his face for any sign of discomfort.

‘I´m alright angel’ he whispered, locking their gaze. They moved together on a slow rhythm at first, Aziraphale holding him tight. His eyes were so full of love, Crowley could feel every ounce of this love dripping of the angel´s pores and engulfing him, making him feel all this grace and light inside him. So powerful. He never felt so loved, so cherished before. It was dizzying.

‘I love you’ Aziraphale panted on his lips, thrusting harder and Crowley writhed beneath him screaming the same thing, wrapping his arms around his neck. The demon closed his eyes when he felt his angel coming inside him. When he opened his eyes again there were pearly white feathers scattered and floating around the room.

‘I love you angel’

***

‘I only noticed at that church in 1944’ Aziraphale said sometime later when they shared some takeaway, both wearing robes and sitting on the floor. Shoulders touching. ‘Sorry dear’

‘What for angel ?’ Crowley asked eating a bite of his broccoli

‘For taking so long, I was too afraid of it before. Too afraid of my feelings, too afraid of what might have happened to you’ the angel explained with a tight voice.

‘What made you change your mind?’ Crowley asked curious.

‘Now I know the Almighty would never punish me for loving’ The answer was simple and sincere. The demon laughed and leaned to kiss his angel cheek.

‘Yes, She would never’ He agreed. They finished their take away and then cuddled on the couch falling asleep. When they woke up later, both noticed a new plant near the window. A white rose bush and small note. Both laughed and kissed again. Now they have all the time of the world.

‘You are right. I would never judge you. You have my blessing

-God’

#good omens #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley #fic #a little angsty #Happy Ending #smut #songfic #my fic

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inthegroundontime · 5 years

Text

Title: So, You Married a Selkie Rating: PG Ships: Rudyard/Liesel ( @ncvaflows ), mentions of Chapman/Masha ( @enjcyourselves & @caughtintherevolution ) Characters: Rudyard Funn, Georgie Crusoe, Liesel Ivanov Summary: Rudyard may not have noticed that he’s been married for the last four months, but it hasn’t escaped notice altogether.

It’s unorthodox, but Rudyard supposes he quite likes having the shifter woman around. She’s kind to him in ways no one, not even Georgie or Antigone has ever been. She listens to his stories and shares some of her own. At dawn, when she returns from her swim, he makes her a cup of tea and she sits with him, reading her book while he does the Piffling Matters crossword. Together, they delight in typos and the simple pleasure of a sunrise in Piffling Vale before the rain rolls in. It always does – especially when she leaves to swim again and Rudyard departs for work. As he worries about her safety, the storms sometimes abate, but every now and then, the lightning becomes fierce and he thinks hers will be the next body Antigone embalms. Liesel. She’s an unusual woman, with sad, dark eyes. Sometimes she seems quite happy in his company, but when he can’t stay with her or when they part for the evening – him for his bed and her for the sofa (Rudyard really ought to charge her rent but he can’t bear to) -she looks at him with such profound despair, it breaks his heart a little. Nothing has broken Rudyard’s heart in a good, long time.

He no longer sleeps well in the bed. It isn’t particularly comfortable – it never has been – but it never seemed so large before, so empty. It’s cold under the blankets and Rudyard eagerly springs from bed in the morning to make tea and toast to go with the kippers Liesel has hunted off the coastline. Once, she brought him back a pearl the size of his thumbnail. He keeps it in his other top pocket – the one above his heart, where Madeline does not sit. He used to keep nothing but lint and a pen there. He doesn’t know why he does this foolish thing, but he does it anyway. It gives him comfort, allowing him to pretend Liesel is nearby when he knows she is swimming and he is trying to keep the funeral home afloat in a much less friendly tide. Across the square, Chapman has only grown more cheerful. No one wonders how he enticed the island’s newest resident – a pretty blonde whose presence dripped magic in a way Rudyard thought was bad form, but that everyone else seemed to take for charm – yet everyone speculates why Liesel hangs around Rudyard. Rumors circulate. He has used a love potion on her. (He hasn’t. He can’t brew a decent one to save his life and Antigone finds them unethical). He has stolen her skin and enslaved her. (He hasn’t. He returned her pelt to her the day they met. Slavery makes his skin crawl). He has hypnotized her, enchanted her, cursed her. (He has done none of these things. Since reconnecting to his witch roots, he has not ever attempted something so advanced).

No one, not even Rudyard, knows why Liesel stays.

No one, except Georgie Crusoe.

Rudyard is half-in the flue of the crematorium, scrubbing the bricks clean of soot and unnamable junk. Georgie, meanwhile, sits on the table, flicking through a manual on cremation that Rudyard shoved her way this morning. As they work, Rudyard can’t help but lament certain goings-on.

“Chapman is allowed to have a mystery woman turn up and follow him around and no one accuses him of enslaving her!” he grunts between scrubs. “Meanwhile, I open my home to a woman who prefers the sea to my company and the whole town thinks I must’ve bewitched her to sleep on my sofa when she gets tired of swimming!”

“Course no one accuses Chapman of anything,” Georgie says without looking up. “The whole ruddy island still thinks he’s human.”

“Of course, he’s human. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much of a novelty around here, now, would he?”

“Mmm.” Georgie pauses and then asks, “Does Liesel always sleep on the sofa?”

“What, now?” Rudyard pops his head out from inside the chimney, coated in black soot. “Yes, of course, she does. What kind of impropriety-“

“ ‘S not impropriety if you’re married, sir.”

Rudyard smacks his head on the bricks as he climbs out of the chimney. Massaging his scalp, he looks at Georgie with shock and then sternness.

“Now, look here,” he says, “I think I would know if I was married to Liesel. I don’t appreciate your new brand of humor and demand you quit while you’re ahead.”

“I don’t think you would,” she continues. “Know if you’re married, I mean.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I’d know.”

“R-i-i-i-ght,” Georgie says. “Oi, Rudyard?”

“What?”

“Are you married?”

“Good God, no! Like I said – I would know. And I am – and will always be – a bachelor.”

“I don’t know how much longer you’ll have that option.”

“It isn’t optional, Georgie. It’s a fact of life. No one would nor ever shall marry me. I’m short-tempered, bossy, and wholly unsuited to the enterprise.”

“Yeah. You’re unsuited all right.” A pause. “But how d’ya like Liesel?”

“Well, of course, I like Liesel,” Rudyard stutters. “She’s kind and smart and doesn’t ask me stupid questions and she’s been contributing to the household in her own way and-“

“But how d’you like her?”

Rudyard scrambles back into the chimney. Scrubbing the bricks furiously, he waits a long time before answering the question.

“She’s kind to me, Georgie. You have to understand, I have something of a weakness for people who are kind to me. And she listens to me – about anything, like what I have to say is important. No one does that. Not really, anyway. She makes me feel… special? Is that the word? … Valued? And I would return the favor instantly, but she looks so sad all the time and we both know I’m rubbish at cheering people up and besides, she spends so much of her time in her seal-skin, swimming and fishing and bellowing at Chapman when he goes for a dip in the ocean, so I get the feeling that maybe she’s only being nice to me so I won’t charge her rent since she prefers the ocean to me, which shouldn’t hurt, since she wouldn’t be the first, but I wish I knew how to make her stay…”

“Rudyard!”

“Yes? What?”

“Do you like Liesel? As in, do you fancy her?”

“Well, of course, I do, but that’s nobody’s business but my own, thank you very much!”

“Then why the bloody hell do you make her sleep on the couch?”

Rudyard smacks his head on the bricks again as he emerges. He grumbles for a moment.

“Now look here, Georgie-“ He sounds more tired than he does angry; resigned and almost sad. “-That’s not how things are done. When I fancy somebody, I don’t ask them to bed. I shove it down and wait for the feeling to die. It inevitably does. And then, since it’s already buried deep in my psyche, I don’t have to worry about giving it a proper send-off.”

“Oh my God.”

“It isn’t as if telling her I like her will amount to anything,” Rudyard continues. “Talking about your feelings has never gotten anyone anything.”

“Rudyard, you stupid-“ Georgie doesn’t finish that thought. “Tell me the story of how you met Liesel.”

“That’s hardly relevant,” Rudyard says. “But it was on the beach. I was trying to enjoy a cheese sandwich as far away from Antigone as I could get, so I’d gone down to the beach. It was an idyllic day – perfectly toasted sandwich, peaceful scenery, really, all except the angry wind, which I managed to stop, thank you very much! And a curious thing happened: a fur coat washed up on the beach at my feet. I picked it up – I can’t abide littering – and then this woman, lovely eyes, totally naked, begged me to give her her coat back. Well. Of course, I did, but not without lecturing her about beach rules! This isn’t the Riviera, after all! The last thing Piffling needs is a nude beach! And then, somehow, we got to talking and I offered her a place to stay until she was back on her feet – or flippers, I suppose. A little shifter humor. And the rest is history.”

“So, Liesel is a selkie.”

“Well, when you put it like that… yes. I suppose she is.”

“And you had her pelt?”

“I didn’t know it was her pelt! I thought some irresponsibly and obscenely wealthy woman had left a valuable fur coat lying about!”

“And you returned it?”

“She was naked! What else was I meant to do?”

“Rudyard. D’you know anything about selkies?”

“Sure. They’re seal-shapeshifters and they enjoy Russian literature, fresh flowers, and get weepy over televised ballets.”

“No, that’s just Liesel,” Georgie said. “Do you know what if means when a man takes a selkie’s pelt?”

“I didn’t take it on purpose!” Rudyard snaps. “It washed up on the beach, I picked it up, I handed it to her.”

“Men don’t normally do that.”

“Are you saying I should have kept it? Proved all those damned rumors true? That I can only earn someone’s affection by enslaving them?” He sits down on the hearth. Drawing his knees to his chest, he looks bleakly over at Georgie, who has abandoned her reading. “I didn’t realize then that she was a selkie, but even if I had, I still would have returned her pelt to her. She deserves to choose for herself how she wants to spend her life.”

“Have you noticed how she’s chosen to spend her life?”

“Miserable in the funeral home at night and in the morning; in the ocean the rest of the time?”

“With you.” Georgie joins him on the hearth. “When a human offers a selkie her pelt back, he’s proposing. She accepted. Congrats, sir. You’ve been married for four months.”

“I’ve been what?”

“It’s a shame we couldn’t have thrown you a real stag party.” Georgie elbows him. “I bet we coulda gotten Chapman to jump outta a cake.”

“Good heavens, why would I want that?”

“Dunno. It would be hilarious, though.”

Rudyard chuckles weakly. Imagining Chapman looking like an idiot, covered in buttercream frosting almost distracts him. But suddenly, the color drains from Rudyard’s cheeks – not that it’s easy to see under the grime.

“Wait. I’ve been married to Liesel for four months?” he asks. “When was anyone planning to tell me?”

“She thought you knew,” Georgie says. “Still does. And you are a rubbish husband.”

“Well, we’ve established that I would be!”

“Yeah, but you’ve been ignorin’ her. Makin’ her sleep on the couch. You’ve never even tried to kiss her… I mean, have you?”

“No, of course not! I just learned that we were married thirty seconds ago! How was I supposed to know I was meant to act as a husband?”

“Dunno. A little cultural sensitivity?”

“I don’t have that,” Rudyard laments. “I don’t even have a paradigm of what a good husband does!”

“What about your mum and dad?”

“We don’t talk about them,” says Rudyard. “Their marriage wasn’t exactly ideal. I’d want to do better by Liesel. She deserves better than to only be acknowledged on birthdays and holidays.”

“Yikes.”

“Indeed.” Rudyard runs a filthy hand down his filthy face. “I need to start planning. I need to woo her. Show her I’m serious about making this marriage of inconvenience work.”

“I think the phrase is ‘marriage of convenience’.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to. The point is, I do fancy her and if I want her to spend less time at sea and more time with me, I’ll have to let her know, won’t I?”

“So you’re not gonna just push this down?”

“Things have changed, Georgie. I’m a married man now.”

“Just like that, eh?”

“What do women like from romantic partners? You’re a woman. What would you want from your ideal husband?”

“A flamethrower. A helicopter. A trip to the Maldives.”

“Now you’re just being difficult.”

“Nah. Just bein’ me. What would Liesel want?”

“I suppose I could get up earlier… Go with her to the beach. Learn to make a better breakfast.”

“And ask her to sleep in the bed instead of the sofa?”

“We walk before we run in this relationship. We’ll see.”

“Rudyard…”

“… I’ll ask, but if she leaves me over it, I’m blaming you.”

Rising to his feet, Rudyard walks towards the door. Georgie watches him curiously. He stops at the threshold and turns. For a moment, he looks as if he’s about to thank her. Instead, he nervously fidgets with the wilted collar of his shirt.

“How do I look?” he asks.

“Like hell.”

“Oh. Good. Women love a bad boy.”

As he walks out the door, Rudyard hears Georgie’s last bit of yelled advice: “Oi! Rudyard! Take a shower, you daft bastard!”

What he doesn’t hear as he veers upstairs and towards the bathroom – a shower might not be a bad idea – is Georgie’s whispered hopes.

“Good luck.”

#x. drabble #ncvaflows #.002 | making funerals magical since the 15th century #r: for once i'm lost for words | {rudyard x liesel}

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kitsunetsuki-miko · 5 years

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Title: The Priestess who became a Fox Writor: riddelllee Commissioned by: Mother of all Monsters Summary: What are you, child of Inari? Rated: M Warnings: Violence, mentions of abuse Website: [Link] Disclaimer: Mother of all Monster owns this character and the story behind her

She heard their words drift aimless and unfocused, echoing off bamboo screen doors to settle like knives at her throat. Marriage. It’s the one thing Hatajinko Ai never imagined for herself—her parents, on the other hand, thought differently.

Do you not see how I tend the Shrine?

She had dedicated her life to the Hatajinko Inari Shrine, an act she had never decided but always known to be true in her heart. Ai looked up into the faces of her parents. Shouhei and his wife Hitomi had never known what to do with her. Her father may have been the Head Priest of the shrine, but Ai had done his duties for the last week. She had done everyone’s duties. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t inherit the shrine, but she had tried to make the best of it.

In her hand, she clutched the acceptance letter to Kannushi like a lifeline.

“We’ve arranged a meeting with the Minamoto family later this week. Perhaps that will give you enough time to make yourself presentable,” her father said as if her unbrushed hair would be a deal breaker.

Even if it was, she didn’t want the marriage anyway.

“I just finished my exams for Kannushi,” she stammered.

Her father went on as if she hadn’t spoken, talking of the conversation he’d had with Minamoto-san, the opportunity for her to begin her life, and how fulfilling she was sure to find marriage. It coiled in her stomach, a rippling shudder that pricked the hair along her arms. And then she was looking into Shouhei’s face and the words slipped past her lips before she could stop them.

“I can’t get married. I’m going to Kannushi and getting a degree.”

“Ai,” her mother chided, shaking her head impatiently. “You don’t need a degree. Minamoto-kun will take care of everything, he’s going to inherit his father’s shrine and—”

“No.”

The word rang imposing and unwelcome in the space as if she had uttered a disgusting swearword instead. Smack—her father backhanded her across the face. She stumbled back, hand rising to caress the stinging flesh, tears in her eyes as she looked up in fear at the figure of Shouhei.

He screamed red fury into her face, degrading disregard in every furious word. She was ungrateful. She should know her place. Her role would forever be subservient—Ai winced and pleaded, a supplication that he refused to answer. It didn’t matter what she thought. She was too young, too inexperienced, too stupid to understand. Her choices were stolen, her voice muted.

Am I not human, too?

He sent her to bed without dinner. She searched for her mother’s eyes in the distance—they remained fixed on a point just above the floor, unflinching resolution beneath weathered, tired eyes. Hatajinko Hitomi had accepted her fate in this world; she had no room in her heart for anyone except herself.

Ai curled up in bed, her ribcage vibrating as wracking sobs shook her bones. She squeezed her eyes shut, and lips trembling, asked for help. She didn’t want to marry someone picked out by her parents. She didn’t want the life they had shoved her into. All her life, they had treated her less like a daughter and instead like own property, the help, the maid. They had shoved a dustpan and a broom into her hands the moment she could stand, and Ai burned to think of her stolen childhood, her stolen happiness.

She was a fox in a trap. But what limb would she need to chew off to break herself free?

The following week she was a ghost, flitting in and out of rooms, avoiding the inevitable as much as possible. She couldn’t eat. She tossed and turned at night, sweat on her brow, and all the while, the fire burned. Like magma, it seeped through her veins until it scorched her skin.

Two days before she was supposed to meet her husband, she collapsed.

The physician found a fever raging and ordered immediate bed rest. The ceremony was postponed, and she breathed a little easier that night. At first. Drawn from sleep by the parched valley of her mouth, Ai rose and poured herself a glass in the cool night air.

“—This is just ridiculous. What a time for her to get sick.”

Her steps faltered as she passed by her parent’s bedroom.

“We shouldn’t have told her until the day of.”

“No use worrying about that now.”

“Well, the minute she’s well, we’ll hand her over to Minamoto-san, and finally we’ll have that girl out of our lives.”

She remained there a silent statue in the dark long after their breathing had stilled and snores filled the air. With a start, she stumbled back into her own bed, and pulling the covers around her neck, she buried her face in her hands and cried.

I’m sorry I’m such an inconvenience.

Why? Why was nothing she ever did good enough? She had done everything they had ever asked of her without question or complaint, the dutiful daughter as always, faithful to the family shrine, devout to Inari—and it wasn’t enough. She hadn’t earned their love. Her face shone with heat, sweat on her brow, her lips cracking in the desert of her fever. She had pushed herself to prove she was worthy. What a fool she was to think that love was earned. She should have realized—she had given to them every piece of her, sought to endear herself to them—but they had never given her any in return.

What had she done to deserve this? By what right did the world force her into weeping misery? She had nothing left to give, nothing left to bribe the fates to change her story. But she deserved more. She deserved more than the cold dismissive scoffs of her parents, the gloating smiles of her brother. The flames of injustice encircled her heart.

She could feel herself fading, feel the fire consuming away at her flesh. Her mind felt alive within the inferno. Where was the person to hold them accountable for these crimes? Didn’t she deserve a knight in shining armour to save her from the cruelty of the world? But there was no one coming, she had no freedom, and the taste was harsh and metallic in her mouth.

Maybe the fever would kill her—let nature take its course. But foxes would sooner chew off their paw then lie down and die.

What are you, child of Inari?

The heat burned behind her eyes. It was almost as if she could hear the God Inari echoing in the recesses of her mind.

What are you, devout priestess of the Inari shrine?

Pain blossomed, the clicking of bone scraping against bone, the long numbing ache of teeth shifting. Her blood burned, her fingernails sharpened and curled into claws. She buried her face into her pillow to drown her muffled cries as her body distorted. What was happening to her? Razor-sharp incisors grew past her gums and replaced her teeth; her sight took on a fevered haze.

What are you?

She took deep breaths, in and out—in and out, adjusting to the warmth still hovering just beneath her skin. She raised her hand; saw the curled clawed fingers, a growth of thick black hair travelling up her arms. A power she had never known before thrummed in her veins.

She emerged from her room, marvelling at the strength in her limbs. She felt like if she were to strike out with her hand she could blot the stars from the night sky. She could kick the mountains into the sea. In the darkened hallway came another sound of a door opening, and her brother stepped out.

“I thought I heard you. Feeling better then? Good, we can get rid of you tomorrow.”

He came to stand beside her, his eyes glazing over her in the dim, missing the sharpness of her teeth. He bent his head to whisper in her ear, “Just don’t cry on your wedding night. No one likes a weepy bride.”

She looked up at him, and he caught a glimpse of bloody red eyes where brown should have been. She didn’t give him a moment to wonder what it meant. In a second, she had knocked him off balance, stepping around behind him and kicking his leg out from under him. She bodily threw him down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He groaned, curling into a crumpled heap on the floor. She would come back for him later.

She pushed open the door to her parent’s bedroom.

“What’s happened?”

The noise had roused them. Shouhei turned on the lamp, and her mother screamed as she caught sight of the creature standing in the doorway. Ai saw the fear and panic in their faces and she feasted on it. She took a step toward them and relished the flinch her father gave as he stepped back.

Why don’t you love me? She wanted to scream at them, scream until the effort tore apart her throat and left her gurgling blood upon the floor. She wanted them to understand. “Why was it so hard to love me?” she cried instead, hot tears trailing down her muzzle. “Why must you control me? Why can’t you just leave me be?”

But they had no answers for her. Hitomi stared at her in unrecognizing terror. She could see her father trying to find a weapon without her notice. “You will never let me be,” she growled at them, teeth bared. “You poison everyone around you. You are dictators and fascist monsters. You want to play God. Then I guess I’ll have to play the devil.”

Her father’s warm blood drenched her fingers as she ripped out his throat. He gaped and floundered like a fish. Hitomi mumbled incoherently, frozen in fear. Ai caressed her face, leaving a stream of crimson in her wake.

“Please, Ai,” her mother begged, tears in her eyes.

“You let it happen.”

“I know—I didn’t mean to, I was just—” she trailed off as Ai hushed her softly, pressing her bloodied finger against her lips.

“You care only for your own life.”

“Please—”

“I decided to care about mine.”

Ai held onto her until the light faded from mother’s eyes. She rose from the bed and surveyed the lake of blood and body parts, breathing in the smell of death. She didn’t look back as she stepped back into the hallway, blood dripping from her claws. Black ears angled as she heard heavy breathing and straining pants—and she found her brother attempting to drag himself up the stairs. She watched his struggle for a moment, and then swooped down in a mass of black fur and crimson rain.

“Ai—” he choked as she grabbed his hair, pulling him up, a feat of strength impossible for a woman of her small stature. She slammed him back into the wall, cracking wood.

“Hello, little brother.” She stood on her tiptoes to reach his ear. “Beg me to spare your life.”

“Dad! Mom!”

“They can’t hear you anymore.”

He tried to pry off her hands, but though his nails dug into her skin until he drew blood, she didn’t let go. Instead, she slammed him against the wall again, knocking the air from his lungs.

“All you had to do was think for yourself,” she growled into his ear.

He began to scream, incoherent cries for help. It made her chuckle instead.

“I’m saving the woman you would marry,” she said with viciousness and spite in her coloured tone. And then she smashed him a third time against the wall, throwing back his head until a sickening crack reverberated from him and up her arms. He slumped to the ground, vibrant crimson blossoming across his head.

Drenched in blood, the Inari Shrine glowed in ruby fever. She had dragged the bloodied forms of her family, laid as offerings before it. She stared at their lifeless faces for a moment, at the river of red staining the stones before her. She looked up into the face of Inari, the eyes of the stone fox glowing crimson in the night.

Who are you?

She turned to look out the city lights of Kyoto, at the tall concrete buildings hiding other stories like her own. And as she descended the staircase, she decided she would paint this whole town red if she had to.

I am free.

#Hatajinko Ai #Shouhei Hatajinko #Akira Hatajinko #Hitomi Hatajinko #Kitsune #OC #Fanfiction #Commission #Everyone should look at her website #its amazing #Inari #Character Study

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aj-the-psycho · 5 years

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The Band of Rotten: Chapter 2

THE STRAY PIRATE

Summary: A pirate on land? Sounds odd, doesn't it?

TW: None

Ao3 Link

France, 1860

He woke up with a groan, the sun already starting to bake his face. He had taken off his eye-patch in favor of the dirty, off-white fabric that he’d tear from the sleeve of his tunic. He hid his trusty eye-patch in the folds of his loose pants in the hopes of avoiding suspicion. No one wants to deal with a pirate—and it’s especially suspicious when you find one wandering around on land. He strolled down the small dirt pathway in the fisherman town, heading away from the coast.

As he reached a plateau a distance away from the coast, he could see a speck off to the ocean, not too far from land. It was his ship, Le Destin Doré, with her sails drawn. For the inexperienced, the ship looks more like a merchant ship than a pirate ship. It was his work a few years ago, inventing a way to disguise the ship to make it look less suspicious—pirating and raiding becomes easier that way. It was quite a misfortune that he had to leave the ship alone, though one might say it was his own fault. He didn’t fuss about it much—he knew he could get her back.

From the elevated ground of the hill, the view of a fisherman town brought back bittersweet memories of the past. The beach had always been his favorite place when he was younger. But having known the rage of the ocean, he thought the sea was a bigger wonder than a mere beach. He paid attention to the fishing boats docked at the port after two months at sea. Children were running on the sand, spilling with laughter and joy. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being that small and cheerful. Looking the other way, he ventured deeper into the town, the sight of the sea finally retreating into the horizon.

After a few hours, the sun was getting higher as it approached midday. His stomach was empty and his throat rough as the sand. It was a shame that he had to leave the ship in such a haste that he didn’t have time to acquire provision. So, looking down at a small muddy puddle, he looked down at his reflection, trying to make himself more presentable. He swiped the remnants of dirt on his neck and fixed the sheet covering his eye to look neater. After that, it was not a difficult job to get food and water.

“Excuse me, madmoizelle.” He attracted the attention of a young girl who was sitting on the small porch of her house. He gave her a small, shy smile which seemed to have charmed her. “Um, I am not from around here and I seem to have lost my way. Would you mind giving me a little water? I have not another provision left.”

“Oh, of course.” She smiled in return, a bloom of pink coloring her face. “Would you need anything else?”

“Uh, no, no. No, thank you. I didn’t want to be too troublesome. Just the water is fine.”

“Nonsense! I’ll see what I can get you.”

As she retreated into the small house, he congratulated himself. The girl returned with a big ale-mug of water and half a loaf of fresh bread. She handed him the mug which he accepted gratefully, though with a little confusion.

“Why the mug? You don’t seem like someone who drinks.”

“It’s father’s,” She answered with another smile. “He’s a big, burly man with a big appetite, which means a lot of food and ale. He’s out on sea now, so I don’t suppose he would mind you borrowing his precious mug.”

“Well, your father sounds like a delight.” He gulped the water quickly, quenching his thirst. “Thank you for your kindness, I better get going.”

“Wait, mother had just finished baking and we seem to have some left over. Here, have some.”

“Why, thank you.” He gave her the sweetest smile and nodded.

As soon as he turned his back, his smile dropped. He let out a sigh, looking down at the paper-wrapped bread. He walked faster towards the center of the town, not knowing what he intended to do. As he trudged further, his mind wandered to the past, but his thoughts didn’t linger for long. In the middle of the small town was a statue of a swordfish, body contorted as if breaching out of the water. The statue was surrounded by shallow flower beds that burst with colors. He passed it with a sigh, going even further. He knew not where he was going.

Noticing the houses only becoming denser as the town becomes more packed, he backtracked as he wanted to avoid any human contact. His half-covered face had turned many eyes—he didn’t need to raise more suspicion. Under the shelter of a short-but-thick tree, he revealed a yellowing paper from under the folds of his pants. It had minute tears at the edges, though other than that it was in a good condition. The paper, a map, was given to him years ago and it was meant to be seen only by his eyes. He did not trust anyone with his secret, not even his closest allies on the ship.

There were scribbles written on the back of the map. Throughout the years, he’d collected clues that will lead him closer to what he sought. For now, the search will have to stop. He tucked the paper back under the folds of fabric and rested himself against the tree behind him. The bread on his lap was no longer warm. He tore a generous chunk, finally filling his empty stomach. Children were running around, bare feet on the cold stone pavement that was clouded with mud and dust.

Evening came surprisingly early—at least it felt like it came early for Baylen since he woke just before midday. He stuffed the leftover bread under his shirt that was tucked into his pants and climbed the tree, not going too high up. He could see the sea in the distance as sunset painted the sky with its golden hues. He basked in the warmth of the setting red sun. His skin was tan after spending half his life in the open ocean. Baylen had always loved the sea. He loved the calming vast blue or the wild waves during a storm. When he was little, he would charge into the ocean, unafraid of the deep even when it was dark.

Soon, the sun plunged under the horizon, leaving traces of purples and pinks that shifted to dark blue and black. The moon claimed the sun’s throne, a dim glowing light in the dark. It slowly rose higher in the sky, casting dull shadows around the town. As the night crawled and the darkness became darker somehow, Baylen decided to take another walk, perhaps to the other side of town. He didn’t know quite exactly what he intended to do, but as a stray pirate on land he thought he deserved to feel a little confused and out of place. Children were no longer in the streets. He could see the yellow lights of candles through dirty windows where people sit inside in warmth, sharing stories and laughter.

A crack. Someone is out here hiding in the darkness. He looked around in caution, fingers unconsciously reaching for his covered eye. He walked again, but the rustling became much louder. Again, he stopped. After seeing there was no danger, he continued his silent stroll. There was a subtle glint in his field of vision, and before he could do anything a knife was placed against his throat.

“Do not… come any closer,” the voice said firmly, though Baylen could hear an underlying tremor. He could only see the hand holding the knife under the dim moonlight—not even the outline of the figure was visible in the shadows. “Another step and—”

“Um, excuse me, but I did not have any intention to harm anyone.” Baylen leaned his weight on his side, speaking nonchalantly. “So, if you don’t mind. Put your knife away, and I’ll be on my way.”

The voice remained silent before it spoke again. “Was that a trick?”

“Alright, sir, I apologize. That was an odd, if not idiotic, question.” Baylen continued despite the offended gasp he could hear. “If it was a trick why would I tell you? And why would I trick you for?”

“So… you’re not trying to rob me?”

“What do y—of course not. What do I look like to you? A pirate?”

The man, at last, stepped out of the cover of shadows. He wore a simple white, long-sleeved tunic and dark fitted pants. His shoes were perfectly polished aside from some stray dust. His auburn hair was mussed, framing his oval face perfectly. This man was no townsfolk. Baylen stepped back, flitting his eyes up and down the figure standing before him. Quite the handsome fellow.

“You’re not from around here,” Baylen said, words sounding more like a statement than a question. He was met with silence and a sharp glare. The small knife was no longer pressed against his neck, but the man still held it in his hand. “You look a little out of place.”

“Who I am and where I am from are not your business.”

“Ah, and your French sounds odd, too. Not unacceptably odd, only that you do not sound like any Frenchman I know. From out of town perhaps? Or even out of the country?”

“That’s enough.”

Baylen noted the way the stranger fidgeted his free hand by pulling on his trousers and the way his eyes shifted with uncertainty. Something was not right, but Baylen wasn’t bothered to find out what it was. If he were to help this stranger, he could gain an ally—perhaps. He offered the paper parcel of bread he had to the stranger, not saying a word. Seeing the stranger frown at his offering, he sighed.

“My name is Baylen Delacroix. And you can put away the knife now.” He ripped a piece of bread and shoved it into his mouth. “And you are?”

“Um… why would I tell you?” The stranger seemed to be cautious, albeit a little confused.

“You seem lost. You don’t know where you are going, do you?”

“Uh… what do you know abo—”

“I would like to help.”

The stranger’s eyes softened in surprise before leveling him with another glare. He had to be careful who he trusts. “Why?” He asked, doubt shrouding his voice.

“Because I need your help as well.”

Silence. Such a shame it was dark. Baylen thought he could have admired this attractive stranger in the daylight much more easily. The stranger nodded a few times, finally slipping the knife back into its small leather casing attached to his belt. He eyed the piece of bread in Baylen’s hand, silently regretting his decision to reject the offering earlier. Baylen walked past him, fully expecting him to follow. He walked quickly, keeping his pace to catch up with Baylen.

“I—uh, I apologize for being rude. I wasn’t—”

“No need. Nothing unusual for me.”

“I’m… I’m Remedio Arlotti. Or—or just Remy for short.”

“Well, Remy, you seem tense.” Baylen halted his steps. “What can I help you with? Remember you still have to do me a favor if I were to help you.”

“Alright then,” Remy said with slight hesitation. “Have you ever heard of America?”

“Yes.”

“I need to go there. Why I need to go is nothing for you to worry.”

“Excellent!” Baylen exclaimed with a smile. This could be a profitable opportunity.

“What?”

“I am the captain of a ship. Unfortunately, a band of pirates have captured my ship and now I am stranded here with no crew.” Baylen started spinning a small tale of lies. It was preposterous for him to ever admit to his true identity. Not if he could help it. “My ship is still here, not too far from the coast, because those pirates are stupid enough not to go into the open ocean once they steal a ship. That is unfortunate for them, but fortunate for us.”

“Us?”

“Yes! You are helping me get my ship back and I will sail you to America.”

“I—wait, you are a sailor?”

“Yes. I thought that was quite obvious from my explanation.” Baylen was about to say something else when something in his mind clicked. “Could you tell me your name again? It sounds… familiar…”

“No,” Remy let out a nervous chuckle, eyes shining with worry. “You must have mistaken me for someone else.”

Baylen squinted his eyes, looking at the man standing before him with curiosity. He could have sworn he’d heard that name somewhere. But that was a topic to dwell on at another time. They were now a distance away from the beach. The view of the ocean was not visible, covered by simple brick houses, but the smell of the sea still lingered. They walked to the edge of town, finding a shelter under an abandoned shed which had started to rot in some places.

Baylen found comfort, leaning against one side of the wooden wall while Remy remained standing, cringing in disgust at the rotten patches of wood. He finally sat gingerly on the other side of the small shed, trying his best not to touch anything. He didn’t seem to notice Baylen’s eye watching him with careful attention. Remy tapped his fingers on his knees with discomfort and agitation. He didn’t know whether he was making the right decision by being here. He contemplated on going back, beg for forgiveness. Yet he knew that wasn’t what he wanted. He wasn’t happy before, so why would going back now be any different?

“So, uh…” His voice echoed in the tiny room, gaining Baylen’s attention. “How do you suppose we’re going to get your ship?”

“I haven’t had a plan. I thought we could use you as a bait.”

“You’re using me as a bait? Uh, excuse me, but I don’t want to die!”

“Listen, you’re not going to get a scratch under my watch. They know me—I mean, they would recognize my face—so sending you would be our better option.”

“What?! Are you ins—”

“Hey, sailing to America is no easy task! If you want me to help you, then you will have to help me get my ship. Without a ship, we can’t sail.”

There was silence, again. This would be difficult to say the least. Considering the size of a pirate crew, they would be facing up to thirty men. They were vastly outnumbered. Remy didn’t understand what Baylen meant by using him as a bait. All he knew about pirates, none of them are loyal which means using one member of the crew as a leverage would be out of the question.

“How about we get the townspeople to help us, too?”

“How do you mean?” Baylen asked, unsettled.

“Well, if we warn the people there was a ship stolen, they might be willing to help since this is still their waters after all.”

“Ah, no, no. We cannot do that.” Baylen was alarmed by the suggestion. If the people notice the name printed on the side of the ship, his cover would be blown. His pirate ship was quite notorious along the coast of France, which means his name as the captain was, too. “That would not do.”

“Why not? Considering a pirate crew would have more than thirty people, the two of us won’t stand a chance.”

“No, this pirate crew isn’t too big. Twenty people at most.”

“Where is your sailor team?”

“There were only five of us against all twenty of them. They were killed. I was the only one who managed to escape.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. Is that what cause the injury on your face?”

Baylen raised his hand against his face. The wound that blinded his eye had long healed. He didn’t care about being blind or missing an eye, but he didn’t want to raise suspicion when he came to shore. He shook his head, answering Remy’s question.

“I have an idea,” Baylen said somberly. “Are you practiced in sword fighting?”

“I know how to fence…”

“Good enough.” Baylen rested his head against the wooden wall, closing his eye to rest. Just as his mind started to wander, he snapped his eyes open. “Oh, I do know you!”

“No, you don’t.” Remy said, defensive.

“Yes, I’ve heard of you before. That explains why your French sounds so foreign to me. French isn’t even your mother tongue, is it?”

“Please, don’t say anything else.”

“You’re a—”

“I won’t help you then?” Remy raised an eyebrow in challenge. His heart was thundering in his chest. He should never have told the sailor his name. Baylen was staring at him with an amused expression.

“Alright, m’lord,” Baylen said mockingly, turning away with a smirk. “Sleep well, because we are getting you to America tomorrow.”

Remy let out an exasperated sigh. This is going to be a long night.

Prologue Ch 1 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

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violetrance · 6 years

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I'm seeing a lot of people annoyed that Klance shippers are downplaying that recent Allurance moment in the clip & to compare it to the bonding moment is a reach etc. So I feel the need to explain/clear up why that moment is possibly hinting at A LOT, and why so many people are making a big deal out if it.

1. Lance has a crush on Allura. This has been known since day one, it is obvious. He has a clear infatuation with her and it has been shown throughout the course of the show. So some people immediately assume that he will end up with Allura. That’s fair, because what we’ve explicitly seen in canon is that he likes her. But what about Allura? We’re always talking about Lance’s feelings towards her and they’ve had some nice, genuine moments together, but she still as of now has not showing any romantic interest in Lance. If you compare her growing development and interactions with Lotor, they are very different to what she portrays towards Lance. Every time Lance makes a move on her, she’s either turned off or has no reaction to it. Now I’m not saying she can’t develop possible feelings for him as they go along, but it’s been five seasons going on six and we still have seen no indication that she feels that way. Which brings me to my next point.

2. In the most recent clip, Lance is clearly acting flustered towards her, saying ‘We make a great team.” But what is Allura’s reaction it? Nothing. She literally just brushes it off and says “Let’s go Lance.” So they can proceed with their mission. It’s obvious, even now, that Allura is not interested in Lance like that. Also, going back to my first point. Yes, Lance does have a crush on Allura, you can tell he genuinely likes her. That’s normal, it makes sense. But why does that make everyone immediately assume they’ll end up together? Crushes are apart of life, they come and go. Unless he’s in love with her and she feels the SAME WAY towards him, there can be no established relationship. Lance has literally said in his vlog, that even though Allura is great he’s not ready to settle down just yet because there are plenty of fish in the sea. Well???

3. No matter what you choose to believe, that scene and the scene Lance has with Keith during their bonding moment are meant to parallel each other. It’s just the truth. But you need to analyze the blatant contrast of the scenes and how they’re set up, the aftermath too to understand their impact. It was purposeful, it was done to show how Allura and Keith feel towards Lance, but how he feels towards them too. It doesn’t matter which way you look at it, the bonding moment was meant to be intimate, it was romantically coded. It literally parallels a scene shared with Hunk and Shay only a bit before, it’s PURPOSEFUL. If Lance says “I think we make a great team.” to Allura to show affection, what is making people believe that he didn’t do the same thing towards Keith?? If you compare Allura and Keith’s individual reactions to these moments, you will blatantly see what the show runners are trying to display.

Lance blushes and get’s flustered towards Allura, claiming they make a good team. Her response is not really acknowledging the advance like she usually does, but instead continuing to go about the mission.

Keith and Lance are holding each other’s hands, exchanging soft smiles and looks basked in purple mood lighting w/ slow music in the bg. Lance claims they are a good team, Keith smiles obviously happy. When Lance says he forgets the bonding moment, this intimate moment between them. What is Keith’s response? He’s offended, says that he held him in his arms like that’s supposed to change something? Not to mention how impatient he was to get Lance out of the pod before. Are you really trying to tell me he didn’t develop a crush on Lance after that moment??? Don’t even get me started on s3 and other past moments that further proves this. Also the head writer of the show literally saying Lance pretended to forget the bonding moment because he wasn’t emotionally ready to face it?? If that was just a platonic moment between two buddies, would they really make it that deep? No, not at all.

Lance using those lines as a way to show affection towards both Allura AND Keith, literally shows he has feeling for the both of them. He has shown the same infatuated expression for Allura towards Keith before. They are literally similar to each other in many aspects, so he has a blatant type. Jeremy has hinted at his milkshakes bringing EVERYBODY to the yard, meaning he most likely is not straight. He’s said that something happens between two characters in terms of LGBT rep. So that means a relationship, who has been basically confirmed to have an end game romance? Lance. And if he has feelings towards both Allura AND Keith, you can basically do the math towards who he’ll possibly end up with.

The only difference between them is: Allura does not have romantic feelings for Lance, but Keith does. Now I’m not saying this about Allura to pin her as some sort of bad guy, because this is normal behaviour. You do not always have to reciprocate someone’s feelings, she still obviously genuinely cares for him as a person and a friend regardless. But it is obvious, that she does not like him like that.

3. To go further, there was a newer review for season 6 that mentioned Allura and Lotor’s closeness and growing relationship has more than one consequence over the course of the season. It leads to some REVELATIONS for another character, which feels like a natural step forward on their personal journey. It’s extremely obvious they are talking about Lance. The creators also emphasised that his personal journey has something to do with respect, and rather than being a ladies man and obsessing over flirting etc, it’s about being a good team member & appreciating a person.

Unless they’re mentioning something else, I would not be surprised if the consequences coming between Lotor and Allura’s growing relationship, is Lance’s one sided crush on Allura. Allura likes Lotor, Lotor likes Allura, it’s obvious that they have feelings for each other. Their interactions are probably the most blatantly romantically coded I’ve seen on this show. Last season you could tell this affected Lance a bit and he was kind of having trouble coming to terms with their relationship. This season, I do genuinely believe that Lance is going to officially move on from his crush/infatuation w/ Allura. He is not very fond of Lotor, but if he sees or knows how Allura feels about him, that perspective will change. He cares a lot about Allura, he wants her to be happy. Lance is the type of person who will go out of his way for others so they can be happy or comfortable, even if it affects him. We’ve seen this side of him more as the seasons go along, because he’s starting to mature more. That’s why he supported Keith so much when he became the leader, even though it was difficult for him. That’s why he comforted and supported Shiro a lot last season, even though he was probably afraid/nervous since he’s been changing so much.

Him accepting the fact that Allura has feelings for Lotor instead of constantly flirting with her or being jealous, will be a step forward for him. In the end, she’s just a crush not the love of his life. There are other people out there like he said. If they do decide to make him confess his love for her though, it would not make any sense for his personal journey. It would not help him grow as a person, because in the end she still would not have romantic feelings for him. So he’d probably get rejected and be forced to move on anyways. Also if the consequences for Lotura and Allura’s relationship is different, I honestly do not believe or hope that they don’t, write her character to turn around & jump ship to Lance if she gets her heart broken. I personally do not think they will make her character that way, because she’s had so many different love interests but so far she’s only found a connection with one. Her immediately falling in love with Lance if everything possibly falls apart with her and Lotor, would be poor writing in my opinion and be very cliche. Allura and Lance are both strong characters, and they deserve to be written as such in terms of their characteristics. Lance making the decision to put his crush on her behind him so that she can be happy and he can grow as well, will be a really amazing and important lesson for kids especially watching.

4. This is just my opinion on the parallels of those scenes and where I possibly think Lance’s storyline with Allura is going. Honestly all that I’ve written could be wrong, because we have no idea what’s going to happen in the future. But if you look at this from a realistic stand point, it just makes the most sense. I also don’t like seeing people downplay Allura and Lance’s relationship because it is very sweet, but at the same time to assume that they’re going to end up together just because Lance likes her alone is unrealistic. And people might think I’m being Klance biased or that I shouldn’t be assuming Allurance’s relationship if I don’t ship them. But you don’t have to be a shipper, to see the probable direction that this show is going in. All of the facts and info are right in our face, we just need to pay attention. The show paralleling those two scenes, is showing us something really important and it isn’t a reach to assume so. Not to mention, this is not the first time they’ve paralleled scenes in this context towards Keith and Lance. It isn’t an accident anymore, it never was, everything that they’re doing is intentional.

#Sorry for such a long post but I think it's worth the read HSHSH #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender

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thedarkgodmogar · 6 years

Text

Intimacy

Hi I wrote a fic that took all fucking month please read it. Here’s the ao3 link.

Rating: Explicit

Warning: it’s trans sting so theres some mentions of dysphoria and other trans-related issues

Rogue helps Sting realize he’s not broken, and overcome his issues with intimacy.

Sting’s never been good with intimacy. He wishes he was; he wants to be good with it. Sometimes he dreams about it: cuddling on the couch, holding hands while walking down the street, touching himself and his partner without fear. He loves the idea of intimacy. But he hates himself too much to go through with it.

Him and Rogue have been officially dating for six months. Honestly, not a whole lot has changed. They’ve lived together since they were children, slept in the same bed, and always told each other everything. Rogue was the first person Sting came out to, even if it was more out of necessity, since Rogue had seen him naked. They would have let it go if Sting wasn’t ready to say anything, but still. Sting owed them some kind of explanation. They trust each other with everything.

But for some reason, Sting can’t trust them with this.

They’re sitting on the couch, movie playing forgotten on their lacrima TV, and they’re kissing. This, Sting is fine with. He loves kissing. He loves Rogue’s hand in his hair, loves the way Rogue laughs when Sting’s stubble tickles their chin, loves the way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy down to his toes.

It’s when Rogue moans and accidentally rubs against his thigh that Sting tenses up.

Rogue must notice. They pull back, looking at Sting with a mix of confusion and concern, “Sting…? Everything ok?”

Sting nods quickly, the words coming out too fast to be convincing, “Yup! Yea! Totally fine!”

Rogue gives him one of their expasterated don’t lie to me looks. Sting suddenly becomes fascinated with a stain on the couch. Maybe Rogue spilled some wine at some point- it’s red and kinda circular but not enough to look purposeful-

“Sting.” A soft hand cups his cheek, Rogue’s voice equally soft and soothing. “Talk to me, love.”

Sting can’t help but press into the touch. Everything about Rogue is calming; they’ve always shined like a lighthouse in the stormy sea of life. Sting knows he can tell them anything without judgement or ridicule.

But still, Sting stammers, struggling to sort his fears into words, “I...I don’t… I know you...want me but I, uh…”

Rogue tries to keep their face neutral, purely a listener, but Sting sees the flash of hurt in their eyes. “You don’t want me?” “No! No that’s not it,” Sting says quickly. He grabs Rogue’s hands, holding them tight. “I do want you, Rogue. I want you more than anything. I love… I love cuddling with you and kissing you and holding your hand and just being with you but…” He blushes, nodding down to the part of Rogue that was just grinding against his leg. “I don’t know if I can...do that…”

Sting isn’t really sure if Rogue understood- he hopes they did. He doesn’t really want to go further into it right now in fear of spiraling into a hateful hole of dysphoria. Luckily Rogue’s face turns bright red and they look down at themselves sheepily.

“Ah…” they clear their throat, “W-Well I… I didn’t mean to… pressure you into anything. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, or aren’t ready for. But I...must admit I’m a little confused.”

Sting tilts his head, “Confused?”

Rogue nods. They’re blushing furiously now- it’s fucking adorable. “I just… thought maybe this might be something you want. You’ve been...doing stuff in your sleep.”

Sting’s eyes widen, face red as a tomato. He has no doubt he looks like a fish with his mouth opening and closing, struggling to form words.

Rogue’s not wrong. Sting’s been incredibly sexually frustrated lately, and it doesn’t help that Rogue likes to go shirtless around the house in the summer with that damn ponytail. Unable to do anything about it while awake, all that frustration has manifested itself in his dreams. Almost every night he has a dream about Rogue touching him, or vice versa. He’ll have a dream where Rogue fucks him into the mattress, whispering all kinds of lewd things in his ear, then wake up wet and uncomfortable and hating himself.

It’s easier in dreams. He doesn’t have the wrong body in his dreams.

Sting’s decided he really doesn’t want to have this conversation anymore. He’s about to get up and hide out somewhere when Rogue grabs his wrist. “Sting, wait!”

Sting has half a mind to pull away from Rogue and keep walking, but he’s never been able to do that in his life and he’s not going to start now. Especially not when Rogue sounds so frantic.

“If this is about your body, you know I don’t care about that,” Rogue says, “I don’t care what parts you have or don��t have. All I care about is you-”

“I care!” Sting whirls around to face Rogue, face red and splotchy with the effort of holding back tears. “I care, Rogue! I know we’ve seen each other naked and you think it’s not a big deal but it is! This-” he gestures to himself, “isn’t me! I can’t do anything a regular guy can do! I don’t…”

Rogue suddenly pulls Sting into a tight, bone-crushing hug. Sting sinks into it immediately, Rogue’s arms a barrier of comfort and warmth against his insecurities. He knows Rogue’s love is unconditional; all they’ve ever wanted was to make Sting feel loved. But this… there’s so many things that can go wrong with this. Sex and small, casual moments of intimacy are two totally different ball games. Sting can’t lie to himself, he does want it, but he isn’t sure if he can handle it when he’s broken like this.

“I love you, Sting,” Rogue murmurs softly in his ear. “I won’t pressure you into anything. Just know if this is something you want… I’ll give you anything. We can go as fast or as slow as you need, my love. You have always been a man. Having sex won’t change that.”

Their hands rub his back in soothing circles. Sting lets out a shaky breath; Rogue always knows exactly what he’s afraid of, if they hadn’t known each other for so long Sting would think they’re a mind reader.

“Are you sure…?” Sting whispers, because he has to be sure. It’s not only their first time, it’s the first time Sting would let Rogue touch him in a sexual way, the first time anyone-himself included- has touched him. He has to be sure it won’t change the image of the man he sees in Rogue’s eyes- the man he strives to be.

“Yes.” Though there’s still tears in the corner of their eyes, Rogue’s gaze is steady. It calms Sting in a way he almost can’t understand. It wasn’t a dismissive “of course” or “I’m sure.” It was a strong, unarguable yes.

Yes. I will always love you. I will always accept you.

Yes, I can only love you more.

Sting isn’t actually sure who moved first. He thinks it was him. (He’d like to believe it was him, when this is all over and they’re cuddled in bed. He would like to think he was brave enough to move after that.) They’re kissing again, arms wrapped around each other, hands gripping hips and tangling in hair, as if afraid the other might disappear and their touch was the only thing holding them there. Despite the desperation in their hands, the kiss is soft, questioning, treading waters yet unexplored.

Rogue moans and grinds against Sting, and this time he lets them. In fact, Sting grinds right back, moaning in surprise at the jolt of heat that spears through his belly.

Rogue pulls back for one agonizing second, and Sting whines, trying to chase after their lips. Rogue laughs and gently puts a hand on his face to hold him back.

“Shhh, love. Bed.”

“Oh...Oh right!” Sting grins sheepishly and takes Rogue back into their bedroom, Rogue refusing to let go of his hand the whole time.

Once the door closes behind them, it’s as if the whole atmosphere changes. Sting’s palms start sweating, hands shaking, heart beating a mile a minute. It’s the same as the day he officially took over as guild master- that feeling of the world sitting on his shoulders. What if he messes this up? What if he isn’t any good? What if Rogue hates it or they see him with his clothes off and change their mind-

“Sunshine?” Rogue’s calm voice penetrates through his anxious thoughts. “You’re thinking too much again.”

Sting just laughs nervously, looking down at his bare feet.

A gentle hand tips his chin back up, and Sting sees the loving, patient smile on Rogue’s face. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. We’re going at your pace. You’re in charge, my love.”

“I hate being in charge,” Sting mumbles.

“But being in charge here doesn’t mean paperwork or meetings,” Rogue chuckles and pulls Sting into another kiss. Sting laughs into the kiss, less nervous and more genuine.

“Seriously,” Rogue continues, “anything you want. If you want me to just touch you, that’s fine. We can touch each other at the same time. If you don’t want to be touched at all… well, I’ll feel a little bad about it, but that’s fine too.”

Sting hides his laugh in Rogue’s shoulder, arms wrapping around their waist, “You’re too giving…”

“No,” Rogue says, kissing Sting’s temple, “You just deserve the world.”

Sting isn’t sure if he believes that, but he knows Rogue does wholeheartedly, and they’ve always been the smart one.

They stand in the middle of the room for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, Rogue offering comfort as Sting thinks. They don’t push or shove or try to rush him, and Sting appreciates that immensely. Honestly, he has no idea what he wants, or where this night is going to lead, but there is something he’s always wanted to try…

“Sit on the bed…?” Sting asks.

Rogue nods, making sure to keep a hand interlocked with Sting’s as they sit on the edge of the bed, looking at him with so much love and patience Sting has trouble breathing for a minute.

Sting takes a deep breath and slowly gets down on his knees in front of Rogue. He isn’t exactly sure what he’s doing, but he’s read a little bit about it, and of course there’s what he’s heard from the older members of the guild. Almost everyone does it at some point; it can’t be that hard, right?

Rogue’s breath hitches when Sting pulls down their sweatpants and boxers, taking their cock in his hand. He tries to mask the uncertainty in his movements as he strokes the shaft. He doesn’t do a great job, apparently.

“Ahh, Sting, like this…” Rogue covers Sting’s hand with their own, showing him what to do until their cock hardens in his hand. “Y-Yea, like that,” they moan, hand falling away.

Sting plays with the head of their cock, fingers moving like Rogue showed him. He watches their face- their skin is flushed a pretty pink, red eyes half-lidded and blown with lust, turning the color even darker, like black raspberries. They’re watching Sting with a heated gaze that sets his skin on fire.

“Rogue, I wanna…” Sting trails off. He isn’t exactly sure how to tell a person hey, I really wanna suck your dick without sounding weird. Not to mention the fact he doesn’t know how to suck dick. Maybe he’s getting too ahead of himself. He should just keep doing this, Rogue seems to enjoy it anyways. Yea, this is fine- “Sting,” Rogue groans, “You’re doing it again.”

Sting blushes, realizes his hand stopped moving, and speeds up again. “S-Sorry…”

Rogue grabs his wrist. “Sting, if you don’t want to do this-”

“I do,” Sting quickly cuts them off. “I do want to do this! I just...dammit. Fuck-” Annoyed at his inability to speak, Sting takes action instead. He drops his hand and licks a hot, messy stripe up Rogue’s cock.

“O-Oh shit-!” Rogue gasps. They have to grip the side of the bed to keep from falling off of it. “S-Sting wait…!”

Sting doesn’t listen, worried that if he stops now he’ll lose all courage. Going off what little knowledge he has, he sucks on the head of their cock, feeling it twitch in his mouth.

A hand buries in Sting’s hair, and they both moan. The air is hot and thick, the smell of sex and sweat filling the room. Sting’s surprised with how much he likes this- having Rogue’s cock in his mouth, feeling it twitch on his tongue, hearing their moans above him. The pleasured response encourages him. He sucks down more of their cock- only to choke and have to pull back with a cough.

“S-Sting…!” Rogue’s voice fills with concern, their hands coming up to cup his face, “Are you ok?”

Sting nods quickly, though in actuality his throat is burning and his jaw hurts. How the hell is this so difficult? Trying to fit it all in his mouth and keeping his damn teeth out of the way- He hears people talk about it all the time at the guild; did they have such a rough first time too? Or is he just doing this completely wrong?

Rogue’s fingers gently weave through his hair, stroke down his cheek and rub over the soreness in his jaw. “Let’s slow down a bit, ok…? Take it one step at a time.”

“But…” Sting bites his lip, and Rogue pulls him up so they can kiss it.

“Shhh, no buts...unless it’s your butt.”

Sting laughs, “Yea yea, ok.” He wraps his hands back around Rogue’s cock exactly the way they showed him earlier. Their skin burns against his hand, their moans echoing through the room, and when they finally cum their voice is a melodious symphony of ecstasy.

“O-oh...oh Sting…” They gasp and shiver in Sting’s hold. He watches, enraptured with the way Rogue’s face is flushed pink, their mouth open in a soft o, their breathing coming in short pants before slowly evening out as their orgasm subsides.

Beautiful…

Rogue looks down at Sting and there’s so much love in that look it takes Sting’s breath away. A small, fond smile spreads across their face, tipped with post-orgasmic bliss. “I love you…”

Sting blushes, about to answer when Rogue’s smile turns nervous, “Um, Sting… can I…” They chew on their lip- Sting has trouble concentrating on anything else. “Can I...feel free to say no. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I just… can I touch you too…?”

There’s a long moment where Sting doesn’t answer. He tries to picture Rogue touching him like that- their hand around his cock, or maybe even their mouth if they wanted. The thought makes him shiver: he wants that.

But when he looks down at himself, he’s reminded he can’t have it. He doesn’t have a dick- or, at least, not one big enough Rogue can put their hand around it. He’s been on hormones for two and a half years now. There’s been a lot of changes and a lot of growth that have made him so happy, growing into the man he’s always dreamed of being has made him the most confident he’s ever been in his life, but it’s still not right. And it will never be exactly right without the surgery.

But he can’t afford both bottom surgery and top surgery. Hoping for both- at least anytime soon- is unrealistic. Not to mention the complications that go along with it. He may never have the chance for bottom surgery. Is he really going to live a life of goddamn celibacy just because he got stuck with the wrong parts at birth?

He hates himself, and it’ll be a long, hard road to lessen that hate, but maybe… If Rogue can accept him like this, then he can learn to accept himself to.

“I...yes…” Sting’s voice is barely above a whisper. He looks at Rogue, anxious and unsure, but still with love. Always with love.

Rogue kisses the scar over Sting’s eyebrow, then his lips, so Sting can taste their smile.

“Thank you, sunshine,” Rogue whispers, reverent, as if thanking a god who just bared them a gift.

It makes Sting blush. He keeps kissing Rogue even as they lay him down on his back. Their hands wander over his body, mapping uncharted territory with a wonder and softness that makes Sting shiver. They stay clear from the binder still covering his chest, and Sting can’t appreciate them enough for it.

Their hands are replaced with their mouth, kissing over Sting’s jaw, his shoulders and down his arms. They kiss each of his fingers, and it takes Sting a moment to realize they’re whispering words into his hands.

“I love you- for staying with me.”

“For saving me.”

“For protecting me.”

“For being the only person who could make me laugh.”

“For loving me.”

Sting only stares, speechless, as Rogue continues kissing down his body. He hadn’t been expecting this...intensity at all. He had thought Rogue would be shy and careful in touching him, afraid he might snap. But no, they’re… they’re practically worshiping his body.

Fuck.

There are tears on Sting’s face, and his chest is so tight and full of love he feels like he might explode. He has no idea what he’s done to deserve any of this.

“R-Rogue…”

They kiss down his stomach, pressing a kiss to each of his hips, then pause at his boxers. They look up at Sting, red eyes questioning, asking is this still ok?

Several breaths later, Sting nods.

Rogue tugs his boxers off, throws them to the floor, then turns to at Sting. Their breath catches in their throat; Sting is shaking under them, a blush on his tear-stained cheeks, his hair a mess of blond curls, totally naked except for the binder covering his chest.

“Beautiful…” Rogue breathes.

“W-What?”

“You,” Rogue repeats, “are beautiful.” They trace the curves of his body with their palms as if committing every nook and cranny, every perfection and imperfection, to memory.

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Sting whispers, his blush growing more pronounced.

“Why not?” Rogue looks in his eyes with a kind smile. “It’s the truth. Aren’t you the one always saying the truth deserves to be said?”

“Don’t throw my own words back at me!”

Rogue laughs, “Sorry, sorry.” Their hands trail up Sting’s thighs, making him shiver, when they pause and Sting sees the first sign of uncertainty they’ve shown since this started in the furrow of their brow. “Um…”

“What?” Sting asks.

“It’s...um…” Rogue blushes, and if Sting wasn’t so nervous he would call them cute. They look down and away, tugging their lip between their teeth. “I’m...not sure what I should do.”

Oh. Right. Rogue’s been so sure of themselves through this Sting forgot this is their first time too. That...makes this a little awkward.

“Oh fuck, this is embarrassing,” Sting groans and grabs a pillow to put over his head.

He hears Rogue laugh nervously, “I did kinda kill the mood a bit, didn’t I? Sorry, should I…?”

Sting tugs the pillow down enough so he can see Rogue over it. They’re looking at him again; Sting can still see the wonder in his eyes. It almost makes him pull the pillow back up. “No, it’s...fine. Maybe just...um...just touch me? And I can uh, tell you what feels good? Or what doesn’t?”

Rogue nods. A second later Sting feels their hands on his thighs start moving again, then a soft touch against his labia, making him gasp.

It feels...good? Sting isn’t sure. But Rogue’s running two fingers up and down his slit, making him shiver. They keep one hand anchored on his thigh, kneading gently, and then a finger dips in and touches his cock and- oh yes.

“Oh Rogue,” Sting gasps, “It’s- there. That felt good. Keep touching there.”

“Fuck…” Rogue strokes a finger up and down Sting’s small cock. They can’t take their eyes off his face, mesmerized as his mouth opens on a moan, his eyes flutter shut, and his blush spreads all the way to that stupid pillow he’s holding over his chest. “It really feels that good…?”

“Yes,” Sting breathes. Neither one of them really know what they’re doing, but it still feels like someone’s lit tiny fireworks under Sting’s skin. He can’t seem to hold still, squirming on the bed and wrapping his legs around Rogue’s waist.

And then Rogue adds another finger, stroking and squeezing his cock, and Sting sees stars.

“Rogue Rogue Rogue-” Sting gasps and moans, voice high and breathy, climbing higher and higher until suddenly the world explodes around him in a fraction of light.

Rogue pulls their hand away as Sting comes back down. He shudders under them, breathing hard, thighs sticky, feeling like a bomb of pleasure just exploded inside him.

“Fuck…”

Rogue’s voice filters through the fog in his mind, “-ing. Sting, you ok?”

Sting nods weakly, opening watery eyes to look at Rogue. Maybe it’s the trick of the light, or he’s just seeing things, but it looks like Rogue’s glowing-

Wait, no.

He’s glowing.

He raises a shaking hand to see a faint white glow around his fingers, trailing down his arm. It’s faint enough not to blind anyone, but bright enough to reflect the light across Rogue’s features, as if they’re sharing his light.

“You’re glowing, love,” Rogue whispers softly. Their hand is gently stroking Sting’s jaw, the touch filled with wonder.

“Haha…” Sting slowly lowers his hand back down, blushing. “This...happens when I get really happy sometimes…”

Rogue’s smile is bright enough to rival Sting’s magic. “So you are happy, then?”

“Yea...Yea I am.” Sting smiles softly, because it’s true. One of the reasons he was so hesitant to do this was because he was scared he’d go into a dysphoria-driven panic attack as soon as it’s over, but now that it’s done he doesn’t feel weird. He feels closer to Rogue then ever. He feels happy.

Rogue kisses him softly. “I love you, sunshine.” They pause, then suddenly they’re laughing, “Huh, guess now you’re a literal ball of sunshine!”

“Oh shut up!” Sting laughs and wacks Rogue with the pillow he had been holding to his chest the whole time.

Rogue only catches it, tossing it aside. “Well, was that as good as your dreams?”

“Better than my dreams.”

Rogue laughs, and Sting swoops in to kiss them again.

“Alright, alright. Sting-” Rogue’s still giggling as they gently push Sting away. “Come on, we should go get cleaned up.”

Sting nods, and Rogue pulls him to his feet. They both pause on the way to the bathroom. Sting traces his fingers around the edge of the binder, but eventually shakes his head and takes it off. He’s with Rogue, who has shown their love for him as strongly as they can over and over. Sting may hate his body, but Rogue loves him. He has nothing to hide here.

Rogue says nothing, just smiles and squeezes Sting’s hand. They climb into the too-small bath together, two bodies folded into each other like missing puzzle pieces. They wash each other’s hair, laughing when Sting starts purring, then frantically grabbing a washcloth when soap gets in the others eye, small intimate moments that are worth a lifetime.

It’s messy and clumsy and not quite right, but it’s still them. It’s still Rogue, who cries over romance novels and gets overprotective over the stupidest things. And it’s still Sting, who gives his all for his guild and expects nothing in return, who constantly forgets to wear his contacts and who believes in the five second rule when food falls on the floor. It’s still two people who have gone through hardships unimaginable, and come out hand-in-hand stronger than ever.

And because it’s them, it’s perfect.

#my fic #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfic #stingue #sting x rogue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #trans sting #nonbinary rogue #techinically #it isnt stated but they use they/them pronouns cause i cant use he for rogue anymore

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deanssweetheart23 · 6 years

Text

Somewhere Only We Know - Part III

Title: Somewhere Only We Know: Spring’s Tale (Part III)

Overview: Dean Winchester doesn’t believe in love. He doesn’t believe that he deserves the happiness of it after everything he’s done. And then she waltzes into his life. The girl that brings with her colors and life and feelings he never thought he’d experience. Is the one year he gets to spend with her enough to change his life forever? Or will it break him beyond repair?

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Sam Winchester (did I mention he ships them?) Marty Blye, Jack Y/L/N (OMCs, only mentioned).

Word count: 4678 (still no regrets, lol)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Implied smut. Some language, allusion to death and grief. Slightly jealous!Dean Bean, but don’t worry, he’s just being a dork.

Author’s Notes: This is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing‘s Seasons of Love Challenge (Bloom of Spring) and for @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba‘s 250 Writing Challenge. My prompts are a secret gif added to the fic below and Dive by Ed Sheeran.

Special thank you to Wonder Woman @percywinchester27 (AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I cries LOVE cries some more this) for betaing this for me, even though she’s been insanely busy. I love you so, so much, Ana.

Thank you so much for your patience and the love you’ve shown for this series, y’all. I love you.

Catch up here.

Out of all the regrets Dean has, pushing her away is his biggest one.

He realizes that much the moment she walks out of the door, the moment she leaves him aching for something he’d never thought he’d have, and, though he tries to convince himself that what happened, those kisses, don’t change anything between them, he can feel it, deep into his bones, he can feel he just ruined the one good thing in his life.

He can feel he lost her.

And he’s right.

She retracts in herself almost immediately, builds walls and creates spaces between them, letting everything they’ve ever shared –late night conversations and inside jokes and accidental brushes of hands, vanish into thin air, like they never even existed.

Like they meant nothing to her.

And maybe they did.

Maybe he was so desperate to believe he actually mattered to her that he saw things that weren’t there, things he wanted to see.

Granted, she tries to keep things civil, tries to talk and feign contentment and laugh at his jokes, but he knows it’s all smoke and mirrors. He can see it every time she leaves a room shortly after he enters it, every time her smile falters just a little bit when they lock eyes, something like hopelessness dangling across her face.

And he misses her.

God, he misses her smile and full body laugh, misses their drunken bets and the way she opened up to him wholly, unconditionally, accepting him for who he was, flawed and broken.

“So-” Sam’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts- “I think that’s where we need to go next.”

Dean blinks.

He gloomily tries to remember what Sam had been talking about before he zoned out almost ten minutes ago, but it’s impossible.

His brother notices. Rolls his eyes. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“What?” Dean’s forehead puckers in feigned indignation. “No, man, I was… I’m just –she can’t possibly like that guy, right?” he finally blurts out, completely ignoring Sam’s sigh of frustration as his eyes drift to the sleazy man on his left again.

They’re working on Y/N’s first real case, a simple salt and burn somewhere in Oregon, and, despite the fact he’d been the one to encourage her to take the lead, now that he’s just standing there, watching as another man makes her laugh, he’s kind of regretting the whole thing.

“I mean, he wears red tape shoes to work. Who does that?”

“Dean,” Sam breathes out and it’s more hesitant than he had anticipated, “this isn’t about the shoes and you know it.”

“Of course it’s about the shoes. Shoes don’t lie, Sam. The guy is a douche.”

Sam shakes his head. “And you’re jealous, but I’m not making a big deal out of it, am I?”

The words come out in a smirk, quiet and coy and loaded with a truth Dean isn’t ready to admit out loud yet.

So, he pretends, picks up his armor and straps himself with steel and iron.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A snort.

Brows raised in frustration.

“Dude, you look at her like the sun shines out of her damn ass. S’ disturbing.”

His cheeks flush fifty shades of red. “Shut up.”

“And you haven’t stop scowling about this guy flirting with her ever since we got here. So-”

“Sam,” he warns, starting to get angry, “drop it.”

“No,” Sam says and it’s relentless. “I tried to drop it, Dean. But you two barely speak to each other anymore and you won’t even tell me why. And you know what, that’s fine. You don’t want to talk about it. I can respect that.” He holds up a hand, his words clipped out. “But I’m tired of watching both of you hurting and doing absolutely nothing to fix it.”

And Dean knows he’s promised himself he’d keep his frigging mouth shut, promised himself he’d do what she asked of him and let the whole thing go, let her go, but in that moment, it’s impossible.

So, he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, choking on dry air like a fish out of water. And then. “I screwed up, Sammy. Things happened between us and I just…” He cuts himself off, takes a deep breath. “She hates me.”

“She doesn’t ha-”

“She avoids me like I have the fucking plague.” He grounds out, absolutely loathing the bitterness, the desperation in his own voice.

Sam gives him a skeptic look.

A crease forms between his brow, and when he sighs, it hitches. “Because she doesn’t know what else to do. Dean, I’m telling you, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. The way she’s always looked at you. And I get that you think you can’t be with someone, not in our line of work, but-” his expression softens- “she’s not Lisa. Or Cassie. In fact, she’s not like anyone you’ve ever been with because shit hit the fan and she’s still here. So, just-” Sam’s lower lip wobbles, the muscles in his jaw twitching, and, for a second, Dean thinks he can see the ache for a love long lost in his brother’s eyes, thinks he can see memories of a lively blonde girl swimming in a sea of hazel- “don’t give up on her.”

Silence stretches between them after that, and all Dean can think about, is how much guilt surges through him at his brother’s words, how he wants to scream and yell and break things because he doesn’t want to give her up.

And that’s the problem.

Dean wants so many things that contradict each other. He wants her. He wants to be allowed to want her. He wants her safe. He wants her to lead a normal life as far away from him as possible. He doesn’t want to get his heart broken again.

But as he watches her slide into the backseat a few minutes later, eyes cast downwards and hands fidgeting with the chain around her neck, he realizes that none of those things matter.

Because he’s already in too deep. And his brother’s right.

He can’t give up on her.

He just hopes that, deep down, she doesn’t want to give up on him, too.

He follows his brother’s advice a week later.

They’ve just returned home from Portland, and, though she’s still very obviously walking on eggshells around him, he can’t stop thinking about that smile she threw his way when he toasted to the end of her first successful hunt a few hours earlier.

It was the first real smile he’d gotten out of her in over a month.

And while Dean’s not sure whether that has anything to do with the conversation she had had with Sam the night before –a conversation that was interrupted the second Dean set foot in the room, or whether it was one of those things that just happen, he doesn’t want to pass on the opportunity to fix things between them.

So, when he passes by her room at 2 a.m. and sees her light is still on, he takes a deep breath and raps his knuckles down on the wooden door before he can stop himself.

He waits.

Nothing happens.

“Kid?” he asks after a while, voice thick with sleep.

Another moment passes and then-

“Come on in.”

The room’s dark when he goes inside, save from the light of a lamp she has on her nightstand and the bright screen of her laptop, currently frozen on some pixelated video he’s never seen before.

He finds her sitting up on the bed, cheeks flushed and eyes red-rimmed.

He knows better than to comment on it.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, like she’s some sort of scared animal.

Her eyes dart up to meet his.

“Hi.” A pause. Brows furrowed in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah. I just…” He runs a hand over his face, tries to gather his wits. “I saw the light was still on and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

God, he hates how awkward this is.

“Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep. Which-” she laughs but it’s humorless and wry- “is nothing new really. But, uh…” She rubs at her forehead. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

A nod.

Eyes that drift to the floor.

“Anytime, kid,” he says, gruff and crippled, disappointment wrapping around his heart like a vine.

This has been just another mistake.

With a sigh, he heads for the door, ready to leave and spare himself the humiliation, but-

“Do they ever stop?” she asks, shifting in the bed, so, she can look at him better. “The nightmares, I mean.”

He turns around to face her.

There’s a softness in her eyes that hasn’t been there before, an openness that breathes life into him and makes her look younger.

He warns himself to not screw this up.

“I don’t think you’ll like the answer to that question, Y/N.”

She snorts. “Nah, I figured. How-” she bites on her bottom lip- “how do you do it?”

His eyes shift to the laptop.

He tilts his head back and meets her gaze.

“S’ hard, but… My, uh… Bobby, he was like a father to me and he always told me to think of things that calm me down.”

A small smile, shy but real.

“Like Metallica songs?”

He laughs, despite himself.

When he notices the mischief that’s etched across her slanted brow, he feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Yeah, like Metallica songs. Or, I dunno. Good memories. Fourth of July with Sammy, learning how to drive… That sorta thing,” he explains.

What he doesn’t tell her, however, is that, sometimes, when all of these things fail to keep him grounded, he thinks about her, about all those little things he’s picked here and there and her voice that reminds him of the nights he’d spent listening to his mum talking about the stars.

She smiles and it’s like the entire room is flooded with sunshine.

“C’mere,” she mutters, patting the empty side of the bed next to her, “I want to show you something.”

He’s reluctant at first, still wary of how fragile their friendship actually is, so he keeps some space between them.

She doesn’t seem to notice.

Instead, she pulls the laptop closer to her and hits play.

The first thing that catches Dean’s attention as images begin to swirl around the screen is the noise.

There is a deafening roar of water and voices, muffled by its flow, speaking in languages he doesn’t understand, but has certainly heard before. A stone fountain appears on the screen seconds later, decorated with snakes and tritons and horses as it tumbles forward, mixing water and rockwork.

“Is that-”

“Sssh,” she mutters, elbowing him in the side. “Wait.”

And then, the camera turns to capture the small square he’s seen in iconic movies, and a man in his early thirties laughs and waves at the person holding it, delight and awe floating across his ruggedly chiseled features.

He’s tall, with long brown hair and a mustache and, though Dean has never seen him before, he realizes there’s something very familiar about him.

When he smiles, the corners of his slightly crooked mouth curling up, it’s like he’s seeing Y/N’s glow radiating off the screen.

“That’s my Dad,” Y/N explains after a few seconds, eyes never leaving the pixelated figure. “He took me to Rome for my tenth birthday.”

“Wow.”

She laughs.

He’s missed that laugh.

“I know. I couldn’t believe it either.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, stares at the screen silently for a few seconds. “Rome… It was my dream trip ever since I found out my parents got married there. But, then Mum got sick and we had to pay for chemo and all that medication and then, after she died…. My Dad worked construction, you know? We could get by and he always made sure I had everything I needed, but traveling to the other side of the world? I never thought we’d be able to do that.”

“And yet, he made it happen,” Dean mumbles, more to himself than to her.

“Yeah. That was what my Dad was like. He’d do anything for the people he loved.”

He swallows, hard.

She’s never talked about her father before, not that much anyway, always opting to avoid the subject altogether, or just mention him in passing and change the direction of the conversation before anyone had a chance to comment on it.

Still, he knows she adores him, because of the look on her face every time she does bring him up, because of the unshed tears and that lump in her throat that always leaves a bittersweet taste.

He knows because he’s seen her grief in his mother’s loss.

Slowly, he shuffles a little closer to her, just enough to let her know that he’s there if she needs him.

“What happened?”

“Construction accident,” she explains, wrapping her arms around her middle. “A piece of steel fell from a tower crane. Dad saw it, tried to warn one his friend. It hit him in the head instead.” Deep breath. Eyes fluttering close. “I never even got the chance to say goodbye.”

“Kid,” Dean whispers, but he has no idea what to say to her, because he knows, better than anyone, no words will ever be enough.

“You know after he died, I thought that nothing would possibly hurt more… And then, Marty was killed, and-” she lets out a grim laugh, shrugs- “well…”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I… I shouldn’t have.”

“No, s’ okay… I wanted you to know,” she whispers, taking his hand in hers.

It catches him off guard, the way she reaches out for him after she’s spent the past few weeks keeping him at arm’s length, but her soft skin feels so right as it slides against his calloused hands that he can’t bring himself to care.

“He would have liked you, you know.”

“I dunno about that, kid. M’ not exactly the kind of guy parents tend to like,” he snorts, running a hand over his face.

A laugh.

Fingers that tighten around his.

“Yeah, D. I think you are.”

Her eyes lock onto his then, the sound of his nickname, frozen on the edge of her lips for so long, resonating within him, and he knows.

There is hope for him after all.

Dean can’t stop staring at her.

He knows he’s not supposed to, knows that the last thing he needs is to ruin things between them now that their relationship has only started mending, but she looks so unbelievably beautiful in the middle of the small park, with her sundress fluttering against her thighs and the cherry blossoms tangling in her hair like pink snowflakes, that he just can’t look away.

It’s a beautiful day, sky a soft shade of blue, and the flower-speckled grass is there to remind him that spring has settled in, with its roses and asters and its bright sunlight waltzing across Y/N’s skin like a soft caress.

“You know-” Y/N starts as she turns to face him- “if you stare at me any harder, you might actually shoot laser beams out of your eyes.”

Dean chuckles.

A cheeky smile plays at the corners of his lips, but the way he shrugs his shoulders is sheepish, coy even.

It’s been almost two months since that night in her bedroom and, though things have returned back to normal, he still feels guilty about the time he’d lost, still worries the two of them are skating on thin ice.

And he can’t get Sam’s words out of his head.

“M’ sorry, I just…” He pauses, takes in the way her hair has fallen out of its bun, soft curls dancing around flushed cheeks. “Spring looks good on you, kid.”

She laughs, and it swirls around him like sunshine. “Now you’re just being nice”

“Or-” he jabs a finger at her, lips curled up in a smile- “m’ being honest.”

“Dean…”

“Y/N, c’mon. That guy in the ice cream store? He couldn’t stop staring.”

She snorts.

When she looks at him again, her eyes are sparkling. “That would probably be because of the three-scoop ice cream cone I ordered. Bet he doesn’t see that all the time.”

Rolling his eyes, he huffs out an incredulous breath.

“Smartass.”

“Hmm,” she hums, reaches out for him, “thank you for coming with me, by the way. Sometimes I just…” She shrugs her shoulder. “I need a break from…all of it, I guess.”

“I know. And I still…” He rocks back and forth on his heels, lets the rough pad of his thumb run soothing circles on her hand. “I still feel guilty about dragging you into this shitstorm…”

“Dean,” she sighs, absolutely intransigent. “You didn’t drag me into anything.”

And Dean’s spent most of his time doubting that, has spent weeks trying to convince himself leaving her alone would have been wiser, would have been the right thing to do, but now…

Now he’s not so sure anymore, because she is still with him.

She has covered herself in his poison.

And she’s healing.

“I did. But, you seem…” He takes a deep breath and smiles, a half-smile that’s smudged around the edges. “I dunno. You seem to like it here.”

“I do. D, helping people, hunting-” she holds up her hands- “s’ not some sort of twisted way for me to act out. S’ what I want. And I’d want it, even if it weren’t for you.” Her voice is steady. “I need you to get that through your stupidly thick skull.”

He breathes out, slow and wary and so relieved.

The slightest of smirks floats across his face. “Okay.”

“Good. On that note-” she gnaws on her bottom lip- “Sam and I were talking the other day… About demons and stuff and I think… I want to get the anti-possession tattoo.”

She says this naturally, punctuating each word with a kind of gentle authority he’s come to admire, but he reads between the lines, understands what she’s really trying to say.

“You sure? Because I’m all for that, but-”

“It’s for my own protection, right?”

A nod.

Lips curled up in a heart-shattering grin.

“Then I’m doing it. Besides-” she pushes some hair off her face, lets mischief sweep over her- “I doubt it’ll hurt as much the second time.”

“The sec—you already…” A pause. “You have a tattoo?”

“Uh huh.”

“But I haven’t… I’ve never seen it before.”

She frigging smirks at him. “Maybe it’s not meant to be seen.”

Dean’s brow raises somewhere above his hairline.

He rubs at the back of his neck, a sheepish chuckle escaping him. “Not meant to –wait, seriously?”

“Uh huh.”

His throat clicks in a swallow. “So, it’s-”

“I’m not telling you.”

Dean’s delighted now, eyes going a bit narrow as he grins. “That’s just cruel, kid. I mean, you’ve seen me naked.”

“I have not.”

“Well, you’ve read about it,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Same difference.”

She narrows her eyes the size of half-dollars.

Her cheeks flush pink.

“You’re shameless,” she groans.

“Obviously.”

He takes a step forward, lets his eyes sweep over her face.

“And I hate you.”

“No-” he cups the side of her face with his hand- “you don’t.”

And there’s a part of him that expects her to pull away, but she just leans closer, so, he glances at her lips, his free hand coming to rest on the small of her back.

Her eyes flutter close at the contact. “Dean,” she whispers, his name leaving her in a plea, “Dean, this can’t keep happening.”

He breathes out, apologies etched on every line of his face. “Kid-”

“Don’t… You don’t get to kiss me back the way you did and then pretend it never happened, okay? You just… You can’t.”

His eyes cast downwards.

“I shouldn’t have let you go,” he says, husky. Rough. “That night… That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. And, Jesus, I’ve done some very stupid things over the years,” he laughs, but it’s self-deprecating, broken.

“Then why did you? You broke my heart that night, Dean.”

“I know. And I hate myself for that, but I didn’t…” He pauses. Clenches his jaw. “I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret in the morning.”

“Regret?”

He looks away, shoulders rising and falling faster than his heartbeat.

And then, as his words sink in. “You think… You think I kissed you because of Marty?”

“Y/N-”

“My God, that’s just…” She rubs at her temples. “Okay. Marty was my best friend, alright? And I love him and miss him, more than I’ll ever be able to put into words. But that-” her fist clenches- “it has nothing to do with you. D, I like you. I like you so much that it terrifies me because I’ve never-” she lets out a nervous laugh- “I’ve never felt like that before and I don’t-”

“Hey.” He reaches her side, traces her cheek with his thumb gingerly. “I know, okay? I know because I feel that, too, all of it, but… Kid, you deserve the fucking the world. And I can’t… I can’t give that to you.”

“Well, I don’t want the fucking world,” she grounds out in a rush, tugging at his arm. “I want you.” Her lips break into a hint of a smile. “Dumbass.”

His hand slid up over her shoulder, twitches up into her hair.

“Yeah?” he asks, eyes shining with wonder.

“Yeah. So, just-” she takes a deep breath, stares at his mouth for just a second- “shut up and kiss me.”

He laughs then, because she’s insane and he absolutely loves it, and leans in, gently, slowly, to brush his lips against hers, allowing himself to remember every single detail, relish in the feel of her, all over again.

It’s overwhelming, the way her mouth moves along with his because now he knows exactly what the wordless whispers of her skin mean, knows that she’s kissing him because she wants it, wants him and everything he’s made of, flaws and fears and scars.

They kiss like that for a while, until it’s too much, until it’s not nearly enough, and then she grips at his shoulder, and he opens her mouth and brushes his tongue against her, a breathless growl escaping him.

And he’s sure that night she’d tasted like apple cider and cinnamon, but this time…

This time she tastes like spring.

He makes love to her that same night.

He tries to give her space, takes her to her bedroom and kisses her goodbye, fully intending to leave, but then she laughs at something awkward he says and it takes him back to that night they spent together in Denver, to the way he held her against him while she cried.

He’d wondered then whether she’d ever be able to shine as brightly as she once used to, and, he realizes now, as he listens to the sound of her endearingly off-key laughter, he realizes that she is shining, no matter how fleeting, and it’s all because of him.

So, he leans in and kisses her, full and deep and thorough, nothing like the chaste kiss he was going for, and when she slides her hands up his arms and tugs, he pulls away and looks into her eyes, breathless.

“You sure?”

She smiles.

Her fingers come to trace his jawline.

“More than.” She pecks him sweetly. “There’s one thing though.”

“M’ all ears.”

“I’m not here because of Marty. I’m here because of you.” She grins a little, clutches at his shirt. “D., you’re… You’re the guy that kept ordering all those god awful pies just to find an excuse to talk to me. How can I not love that about you?”

“Kid, you’re….” A sigh. “You have no idea how much I wanted this. Wanted you.”

She beams at him.

At his side, her fingers thread through his and she grips.

“Show me.”

It’s all heated touches and shy glances after that. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he makes sure to tell her that much, makes sure to tell her how perfect she is while she hovers above him, mapping his scars with her fingertips, kissing and holding and bending.

He can’t remember the last time he felt like this, doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, and it’s all so new to him, she is so new to him, so he goes slow. He whispers how much he wants her into her ear, waits for every whimper and soft word of praise, for every trembling breath until the world around them ceases to exist and she follows him over the edge, lets him lose and find himself in her.

And he can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe she’s looking into his eyes with so much love, but he takes it, because this, having her so close, it’s all he’s ever wanted.

“Jesus-” he presses a soft kiss on the crook of her neck- “should have done that a long time ago.”

She laughs, breathless, and he looks up, shifts a little on top of her.

“Hey,” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, takes in the look in her eyes, “you okay?”

A smile tugs at her lips and it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

“Yeah.” A pause. “Yeah, I’m great actually. I just…” Deep breath. “We can make this work, right?”

And it’s just a little question, six shy words strung together, but he can see through it, can see the uncertainty that’s running through her veins, her fear that, after everything that happened between them, she’s going to lose him, too.

He hates it.

“Kid,” he whispers, laces his fingers with hers, “I’m gonna make this work, if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

Relief washes over her, coats her face with softness and bliss, but before he has time to comment on it, she pecks him lazily.

“Good, because-” she smooths her hands through his hair, grins a little- “I think your brother kind of ships us, and I’d hate to ruin this for him.”

A laugh.

Eyes that lock onto hers.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Well-” she juts her chin- “I am pretty smart.”

“’Course you are, Sherlock.” He flops to the side. “C’mere.”

She hums, and he pulls her to him, wraps his arm around her.

His fingers trace the paper airplane tattoo at the side of her breast.

She shivers against him.

“When did you get that?”

“About a year ago. Dad used to make these for me and Marty when we were kids...” She tangles her legs with his. “No one’s ever seen it before.”

He pushes some hair off her face, lets the meaning of her words settle in. “S’ beautiful.”

Her mouth presses up against his jaw.

“Stay the night.”

He chuckles into her hair, quiet and rumbling.

His grip tightens around her.

“I was hoping you’d say that, kid.”

Letting out a content sigh, she kisses his left pec and snuggles closer to him, a sleepy smile on her lips.

She’s warm and soft against him and he lets himself take her in, lets himself get lost into how right all of this feels to him.

And he’s never really believed in love, has never really believed that he deserves to be loved after everything he’s done, but as he watches her sleep in his arms, hand spread across his chest, hair a halo over her face, he thinks that, sometimes, miracles do happen.

And maybe, just maybe, she’s his.

Α/Ν: *looks left* *looks right* *whispers* ....it’s not over yet

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thedivinefish · 3 years

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TGIWednesday and support for mental focus on work/job/career

TGIWednesday News

Well well well, mental health awareness for the whole month? Yep and after all we’ve been through with financial ups and downs, a pandemic with a hot side of greasy politics - we’re going to need this month just to get back to smooth! There is an old Janet Jackson song entitled, “What have you done for me lately?” and I would rephrase that to, “What have you done for YOU lately? Long walk on the beach? Massage? Planning a margarita for May 5th? Let’s at least consider pampering you for a change. I am proclaiming as you read this now, “I am open to receive better treatment for myself, I realize I deserve it and I am most worthy of it! So stay tuned as we delve into mental health awareness this whole month including our live Zoom event the last Wednesday May 26th and we're also highlighting 20% off the MyBeliefWorks for Healing Mental and Emotional Stressors MP3/PDF.

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~ CLEARING MENTAL HEALTH ~ I believe, think, know and feel that my mental health is clearing now. I am ready, willing and able to make subtle long term changes to improve my mental balance. I know, when here how and why to accept help and contributions from others thereby promoting mental inner peace. I am asking in all languages and throughout all time lines and so it is.

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FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors.

As you know by now, I will not be returning to our weekly Jimmy Mack Healing Radio show in 2021. We will of course be guest or co-hosting on other shows on occasion. So stay tuned to this section of TGIW as a variety of future show line ups will be posted!

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

May MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

This month’s Zoom event will be all about Mental Health. So prepare to join us on Wednesday May 26th at 7:30pm ET Stay tuned to this section for more details and links, in the meantime, check out our library of offerings from a long list of past Zoom events by clicking here. It's all SO worth it each month when we get emails like this one: "Hi Jimmy & team, I just wanted to express my gratitude for this recent Family healing zoom/audio. I have noticed powerful healing within, especially my emotional & mental bodies maturing. I had previously worked on my inner self so much that I thought I was healed, but this audio showed me it was buried deep & now healing rapidly. Many thanks." - Caroline D.

From the Fish Box

"Hi Jimmy I am grateful for being divinely guided to connect with you. I love the simplicity yet powerful effects of the fish symbol that you received from divine. When I saw you on the Practical Magic Season 2 interview I was very interested in the healings you do as it was from divine. That particular night I saw the fish symbol on my kitchen bench as I was cleaning up so I felt divinely guided to work with you. I am in the process of working through many of your wonderful YouTube meditations & most grateful for these. I have been working on my inner self for a while now & still waiting for my money to change for the better. So unable to purchase any sessions just yet." - Caroline /Australia

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions The next opportunity to see Jimmy at Charla's Tampa office is: FRIDAY MAY 21st from 10-4pm NOTE: previous April date was rescheduled and moved to May

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack MAY 5th "Today I will recognize the stillness, comfort, grace and ease in that which is unusual. I will remember that we are a part of the one; that all people, places and things are blended into one and I will endure."

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

Nightly prayers include COVID-19. Each night we work on scrambling the frequency for everyone on the prayer list. Your name will be added to a special VIP Prayer list where Jimmy will use his intelligent computer software, src4you which runs 24/7, to delete the negative and increase the strength of the positive creating a higher probability of favorable outcomes for you.

In addition, throughout the full 30-days, Jimmy will be dialing into your energetic signature each day upon rising and make certain that you are a clear yes, unclear to no and running forward before you start your day. He is doing the heavy lifting for you around 3am NY time while most of you are asleep in order to smooth out your way and increase your most favorable life outcomes.

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

Upon written email request, for each new order we offer a one-time email analysis via the intelligent healing software that Jimmy uses on your behalf. Most clients have had amazing results and outcomes!

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

You can run this monthly and stop at any time after the 30 days is up, you will have the opportunity to renew and update your list each month but are under no obligation. I believe you will experience magical transformations and make progress every day!

For those who aren't familiar, below is a list of the 30+ audios in the MyBeliefWorks series.... Find a topic that addresses your issue(s), click on the link to read more. We had a lot of help downloading & channeling these over the years & they keep getting better. Don't forget... you can share these with your immediate friends and family.

Receiving Abundance Freedom from Abuse Overcoming Addiction Body Scan: Head to Toe Healing Experiencing Bountiful Harvest Igniting Creative Spark *NEW* Discovering Your Destiny Daily GPS Reset Releasing Dark Energies/Fears Crossroads -Decision Making Diet & Exercise Support Education & Learning Support Healing Family Relationships Attracting a Financial Windfall Gold Coin: More Money in All Forms

Healing Body Disorders *20% OFF* Mental Stress Relieving Holiday Stress Increasing Intuition Easing IRS Stress & Taxes Finding Love & Romance Positive Money Mindset Moving Forward from Past Chronic Pain Relief Pet Healing Support Improving Sales & Success Improving Sex Improving Sleep Traveling with Ease Work & Career Success Weight Loss Support Restoring Youth & Vitality

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

The Certificate of Mastery Program includes 2 best-selling ebooks and 2 clearing audios plus written & video instructions, AND one-on-one time with Jimmy ALL for about the cost of a single 1-hr session! This online course is for anyone who is familiar with OR new to "fishing" and is ready to dive into the deep end & get results that are beyond the ordinary! It includes The Tackle Box & The Dowser's Handbook ebooks PLUS 2 MP3s "Clearing Dark Energies" & "Increasing Your Intuition" to help clear, strengthen and prepare your energy field for optimal “fishing” results. This is a work-at-your-own-pace curriculum that will TEACH & CLEAR you at the same time! In under 2wks you will be finished with the program and ready to fish on your own with greater results! Level II offers Practitioner Certification for those who qualify.

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

Jimmy Mack | Appointments Skype: Jimmy.Mack55 Clearwater Florida USA Book a 15 minute session Book a 30 minute session Book a 60 minute session Transformational Healing of Body, Mind & Spirit, People, Places, Pets & Situations! Access the My Liquid Fish™ Starter Kit (*Updated December 2020) Audio MP3 Downloads and books to improve your life! Get Certified in My Liquid Fish™Change Made Simple™ Watch Free Videos on YouTube Radio Show Archives Shop for Supplements http://www.jimmymackhealingshop.com www.jimmymackhealing.com Copyright ©1998-2021 All Rights Reserved

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Our mailing address is:

TGIWednesday News

Nothing feels more like stress than trading your time for money (unless it’s a lot of money!) If you’re doing great and making great money - then good for you! If you’re underemployed or unemployed, I am saying prayers that money in all forms finds you as you read this now. Your mental health is so vastly important, that it cannot be overlooked. Are you eating clean? Drinking over 50 oz of quality H2O each day? (think of Adam Sandler in the movie "The Water Boy" carrying that huge bucket of water) How about exercise? Hopefully Yoga, Thai Chi, Qi Gong and any other class that gets you moving! All of these have great impacts on your whole being especially your mental focus and can make a difference in how you handle work/job/career stress, kids, significant others, and bad or good fortune!. Treat yourself like you would a best friend and you won’t just survive through the latest pandemic/economic issue or political foible, you can and will thrive. Remember as I like to say, “make the rest of your life. the best of your life and make progress every day!” As we are delving into mental health awareness this whole month that includes our live Zoom event the last Wednesday May 26th and we're also highlighting 20% off the MyBeliefWorks for Healing Mental and Emotional Stressors MP3/PDF.

TGIWednesday Download

~ MENTAL STRESS & FOCUS~ I believe, think, know and feel that as I release the stress from my work/job/career, I reinvigorate mental focus. I know, when, where, how and why to treat myself like I would a friend and in so doing my mind sharpens. I am ready, willing and able to be fully present in the moment and when I am working, I am all in and the same goes for family, exercise and play! I am asking for all of this in all languages and throughout all time lines and so it is.

FREE Live Show Appearances

TOMORROW MAY 13th at 4pm ET/1pm PT Taking LIVE callers! YOU WEALTH REVOLUTION hosted by Darius Barazandeh New Energy, New You™! LIVE INTERVIEW Topic: Magical Mystical Atlantean Technology: Energetic Support to Discover Your Destiny It's the biggest energy healing event of the year - best of all it’s FREE from your home!

FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors.

Free to Sign Up Here

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

May MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

This month’s Zoom event will be all about Mental Health. In this call we will release any and all blocks preventing you from having sound mental health. We have all suffered chaos, drama, upsets in childhood, relationships and abuse in many forms our whole lives and there is no time like the present to release these and download and shift switches for mental stability, balanced moods, brain chemistry, motivation enough to get the F@#%$^ off the couch! And the clarity to release any and all obsessions like the sky falling, the pandemic, political and religious judgement that’s keeping us stuck and circular. Now is the time to release the negative and download more positive and together by us being on a 30 minute call we can actually improve the next phase of our lives!!! Join us on Wednesday May 26th at 7:30pm ET Register Here for $22 https://calendly.com/jmh-calls/may-switches-event Includes live call access & replay.

REGISTRATION INSTRUCTIONS: Click on the date circled in BLUE. Look for the event time shown in YOUR time zone. SELECT THAT TIME & then click on the BLUE CONFIRM BUTTON then follow through & complete your payment.

From the Fish Box

"Last week’s clearing work on ‘family’ was exceptionally deep and powerful. The group felt like familiar souls coming together in a spirit of oneness to work on deep wounds of family and ancestral patterns. I’ve come to trust the content of the group’s introspective and insightful requests. It takes the pressure off covering all my bases for my own requests. It’s now a week later. I can feel the healing still in process and have a feeling this will continue, possibly until all these lifelong and past-life wounds are intrinsically healed. Immeasurable appreciation, gratitude, and love to Jimmy and team, and all of us participating in these monthly Wednesday healings." - Diane Linn

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

Jimmy Mack will be offering sessions at Dr. Charla Tempone’s office at Swann Holistic Health Solutions The next opportunity to see Jimmy at Charla's Tampa office is: NEXT FRIDAY MAY 21st from 10-4pm NOTE: previous April date was rescheduled and moved to May

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Tell the Fish - 365 Daily Inspirations and Affirmations - by Jimmy Mack MAY 12th "Today I will remember that there can be a spider web effect on everything as I work on myself, my family, friends and peers can experience the profound. I will endeavor to be the best that I can working and making progress on myself so that I may be of a greater service to others."

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

divinefishingtips · 3 years

Text

TGIWednesday and support for mental focus on work/job/career

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

FREE Live Show Appearances

FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors.

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

May MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Our mailing address is:

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

FREE Live Show Appearances

FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors.

Free to Sign Up Here

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

May MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes

365dailyaffirmations · 3 years

Text

TGIWednesday and support for mental focus on work/job/career

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

FREE Live Show Appearances

FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors.

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

May MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Our mailing address is:

TGIWednesday News

TGIWednesday Download

FREE Live Show Appearances

FREE TO REGISTER and Grab Your Gift ($67 Value) The incredible new Soul Spa 2.0™ and 741 Hz download which works to cleanse your aura and release toxic stress, worry and old anchors.

Free to Sign Up Here

Watch and listen to hundreds of Radio Show replays for FREE here in the archives: https://thejimmymackhealingshow.com/

May MySwitchWorks Zoom Event

From the Fish Box

Book A Session in Tampa

SWANN HOLISTIC HEALTH SOLUTIONS

403 S. Habana Ave. Tampa, FL 33609 Just south of Azeele next to Skin Savvy http://www.ctholisticsolutions.com

Please call their office directly at ☎️ (813) 873-7773 in order to get on the schedule for 15-minutes $38 or 30-minutes $68. If you’re new to working with me, I suggest you schedule 30 minutes.

Fish Food

The Daily Bread To Feed The Fish

Receive 24/7 Prayers from Jimmy

The 30-day service is now being offered exclusively and you also have the option of selecting an ongoing subscription ($95/month) which is managed through PayPal only.

You can add yourself and those living in your immediate household and yes you can include pets! Merely include everyone’s names and Jimmy will add them to his daily prayers.

**Can't See The Full Email? Click Here to View Online**

Go deep sea "fishing" with Jimmy!

Level 1 is open to ANYONE at anytime! Click here to watch the Mastery video playlist

LEARN ABOUT CERTIFICATION HERE

TGIFunny

Forward

-------------------------------------------------- TGIW newsletter managed by: Sandy Bidinger Digital Marketing Specialist at SMBeConnected Solutions www.smbeconnected.com

Our mailing address is: Clearwater Florida 33756 USA

0 notes