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plutoswritingplanet · 11 months

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Lady Disdain (Captain Hook x Reader)

a/n: so i know i’ve been gone for like a year, but here, have this captain fucking hook smut jesus christ what am i doing.... (jason isaacs is hot tho, so can you blame me?)

Warnings: Dream Donging, Female Reader, Shakespeare quotes as foreplay

Summary: Dreams can be a fickle thing. You're about to discover that, as Neverland drags you into a chance encounter with the devilishly handsome Captain. (cross-posted on ao3)

The first thing that rattles you from the calm embrace of sleep, is the smell. Gone is the fain scent of a coffee you've made and left forgotten, replaced instead by seawater and fresh air. Your nose scrunches, as new sensations flood your system. And then there's light. Not from the dim lamp in your apartment, but from the sun, warm and bright, coloring the insides of your eyelids orange. Ultimately, that's what brings you back to reality. There is no way you have direct sunlight in your room, so either your roof has fallen in while you've slept, or something even weirder happened.

As you finally open your eyes, you're hit with the realization, that something weirder indeed had happened, because as your sight accommodates to the sunlight, you realizes, this isn't your room that you're standing in. No, there are rough planks underneath your bare feet, splinters just about ready to break your skin. The wind blows around you, messing up your hair and tugging on your night gown. Wait... Since when have you been wearing a night gown? You remember, quite clearly at that, going to sleep in one of your favorite shirts. Your hands tug on the almost sheer fabric, the ruffles slide between your fingers as you marvel at the feeling. There's no way in hell you would be able to afford this from your minimum wage job.

- Captain?

Your eyes snap up, looking straight at a stocky, short man, dressed in a striped shirt, a red beanie on his head. Nervously, he reaches towards his face to push his small glasses up his nose.

- There appears to be a... uh... A woman, on the ship. - he says, hands shaking.

Your hands fly on instinct towards the hem of your gown, pulling it down, over your knees. Suddenly you realize, this really isn't your apartment, and even if this is a dream, being stuck on a ship with a bunch of strange men is not an ideal situation.

- Yes, Smee, I can see that.

Another voice joins the conversation, and with a gasp you look up, towards the steering wheel. There he stands, slowly walking down from his spot above the whole ship, movements elegant and smooth. In all your life, you've met many men, short, tall, skinny and fuller. Some of them pretty, some of them handsome. But, you've never seen a man quite as beautiful as the one walking towards you with such flourish, it takes your breath away from your lungs. The man pushes Smee out of the way, his lavish outfit and a gigantic hat covering your entire field of vision. There are black feathers all around his collar, mixing with lush, inky black locks of hair falling down past his shoulders. Icy blue eyes stare at you with intensity you've never experienced before, before his lips quirk up into a small smirk under his well-groomed moustache.

- Captain James Hook, at your service, my lady - the man bows down, taking his hat off, and you take a step back as the main, gigantic feather brushes over your feet.

- Am I dreaming? - is the first thing you say in this strange scenario, voice quiet and unsure.

The man looks up at you with a brilliant, roguish smile, before slowly pulling himself back to his full height.

- Who's to say? - he answers in such a cryptic way, you feel a sudden urge to roll your eyes.

Deciding for your own mental safety, that this is, in fact, a dream, you grab both sides of your gown, and bow slightly, just like you've seen in the movies. The Captain smiles at your curtsy, before reaching towards your hand. He takes is, rather gently, and brings it towards his lips, keeping eye contact with you and... Oh...

So this is "that" kind of a dream.

Your heart does a somersault in your chest, and you can nearly feel the blood, as it travels straight to your cheeks.

- What is this place? - you ask, after clearing your throat - Who are you people?

As you look at the crew, that has slowly gathered around you, you can't help but notice the way the Captain's expression of friendliness seemed to slip, just as your eyes left him. Replaced by a much more sinister, scheming glint, that sends a shiver down your spine. No matter, dream or reality, you were not about to let your guard down, especially around someone so obviously maleficent.

- This - the Captain makes a broad movement with his left hand - Is the Jolly Roger, the fastest ship on all Seven Seas. And we...

Your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you see the man approach you, swiftly invading your personal space. He smells of tobacco and rum, mixed in with the ever-present smell of the ocean and warm skin. It's nice, too nice, too easy to get intoxicated on. Acting on instinct, you start to walk back, him matching you step for step. Your back hits the wood of the mast, but the Captain doesn't stop, his figure towering over you, as he cages you in your spot.

- ...Are Pirates.

His words are but a whisper, shared between the two of you in a mockery of intimacy. For a split second, you think, you would like to wake up now. Because the Captain's eyes bear into you, like they're trying to drill holes into your very being, and his left hand comes up to caress your chin, pushing it up, until you're forced to look at him fully. Your breath comes out of your mouth in quick pants, heat rising from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears.

- Unhand me, Captain - you try, much weaker than you've intended, and the man flashes you a grin.

For a second, you're struck with how white his teeth are. A strange observation, but when was the last time you've seen a pirate with good oral hygiene. Then, as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on you, your thoughts start to gallop, one, clear one forming between your ears. You don't like being in this situation.

And so, bracing yourself and taking a strong breath, you raise your hand, place it onto the man's chest, and push rather hard. He seems to be startled by the contact, eyes flickering to your hand, and back to you in confusion.

- For a man of such high standing, you sure lack manners - you wonder if the surrounding men can sense your demeanor is a lie.

By the way some snicker, you guess they can. Captain Hook raises one eyebrow at you, regarding you with a skeptical stare, and then he brings up his right hand. There it is, gleaming in the sun, a sharp, curved hook attached to where his hand should be. Your face falls, and the man smiles cruelly.

- Case and point - you mutter, eyes never leaving the weapon. - I'll have you know, I'm a respectable lady, and I deserve to be treated as such.

Captain Hook laughs, a short snicker, before regarding you with a look filled with irony.

- A "respectable lady"? On a ship filled with men, in only her night gown?

Now, that sparks a fire in you, hands on your hips, you stand your ground against the Captain's oppressing posture, all the rage and fire following you in tow.

- I'm not responsible for my circumstance!

- Neither am I, I assure you - he raises his hands in mock surrender.

- Oh? And I'm supposed to just trust a Pirate's word like that? - you throw him a judgmental stare.

The man laughs again, his head inclining towards you in something, that vaguely resembles a show of respect.

- Wise, very wise, darling - your eyebrows shoot upwards at the new form of endearment - What are your demands, as a respectable lady?

You think for a second. In your mind, you haven't really arrived at that point yet, and making something up on the spot would pose a risk of exposing, just how much you have no idea what was going on. And yet, it's just a dream, isn't it? Soon, you'll smell your day's old coffee, and wake back up in your apartment, with no ocean in sight. Why not indulge yourself for a moment, while sleep holds you in its arms?

- I demand a tour of the ship - you announce triumphantly.

The man laughs, his eyes jumping around his crew, as if looking for a confirmation, that what you've said demanded ridicule. Apparently, it did, because all around you, you could hear snicker after snicker. You comfort yourself with the fact most of them sounded forced.

- Is that all? - the Captain already takes a couple of steps in your direction, and panic rises in your gut at his proximity.

- And do me no harm in the process!

That makes him laugh again, this one is loud and booming. Before you can get properly mad at him for laughing in your face, however, he takes off his lavish hat and bows again.

- Your wish is my command, my hearty.

Your face twists at the nickname, but you decide to say nothing, not wanting to push your luck, especially after being confronted with his deadly prosthetic. It's just a dream, you remind yourself in your head, as he comes over to stand by your side, arm sliding around your waist. It's just a dream, you keep reciting, when you feel his fingers pick at the thin fabric of your nightgown.

- ...Just a dream... - you mutter, and if he has heard, he decided not to comment, opting instead to pull you towards him, as he began to walk around the ship.

To his credit, the tour of the upper deck is completely respectable and rather interesting. As he explains the different parts of the ship, and introduces his crew along the way, you begin to slowly let yourself be carried through this weird experience. The hand on your waist no longer bothers you, even as it travels towards your hip from time to time. The crew is respectable enough, although the energy feels tense, whenever you're allowed to talk to them. As if everyone knows something that escapes you, some terrifying truth that you're not privy to. It's just a dream though, so you push your worries to the back and lean into the Captain's warm embrace.

- And now - the Captain leans down to flash you a cheeky grin - pièce de résistance.

He opens the ornate door in front of you with his usual flourish, and you gasp, as you enter the most richly decorated room you've seen in your entire life.

- The Captain's cabin. My cabin. Just like the Royal Palace, isn't it?

You laugh, eyes searching the room in wonder, taking in all the splendor and the treasure. There's a beautiful, black piano standing in the corner in the room, pages upon pages of music sheets thrown around it in disarray. Your eyes skim over the papers filled with black ink. And then, you see it. A gigantic bookcase, climbing the entirety of a wall, from top to bottom, filled with books. Your heart nearly jumps at the sight, and you cross the room with determination.

- Oh, this is just wonderful - you whisper, eyes flowing over the titles, some you recognize, some you don't.

You reach towards one of the books and pull it out with a smile.

- "Much Ado About Nothing" - you announce, and immediately step back, collidig with the bookcase.

You have no idea how the Captain managed to sneak up towards you so quietly, but here he stood, mere inches from you, one arm braced on the bookcase, his long black hair framing his face. His hat was left on top of the piano, and his coat became abandoned as well, leaving him in just a silk black shirt and leather trousers. An interesting combination, worthy of a rockstar.

- Do you enjoy Shakespeare? - he asks in a quiet, casual tone, as if the situation is the most normal it could've been

You swallow hard, regaining your composure, bringing the book closer to your chest, as if to shield yourself from his oppressing aura.

- Not particularly, no - you admit - This is an exception.

The Captain pushes closer, and your eyes start to search a way for potential escape.

- What is it about?

- Oh... it's... - you stammer, the hard cover of the book digging into your chest from how hard you're holding onto it.

His smell invades your senses, swirling in your mind and bringing blush back to your cheeks. Slowly, but surely, you begin to be entranced by this strange, dangerous man. Even the gleaming hook propped right above your head doesn't hold as much power as it used to. It all feels so intimate, nearly suffocating. It makes you wonder. If you're dreaming, what harm could be done, in letting yourself be seduced by this beautiful pirate?

He answers for you, his left hand coming up to brush hair out of your face, silver rings bringing stark, cold contrast to your heated skin.

- It's about two people, who hate each other, but over time discover they're in love.

- Ah, a love story? - his eyebrows furrow - I was never a fan of those.

You shake your head slightly.

- A love story, in a way yes. Mostly it's just funny. - you try to defend your story - But yes, the romance part is beautiful and witty, it's inspiring, really.

Captain Hook leans down, his hand leaving your face and sliding towards the book. Slowly, he worms his fingers under your hold, pulling the book out of your hands. You stare at him in confusion, as he skims through the pages, eyes jumping over the words with an unreadable expression.

- "Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." - he reads out loud, and you watch his eyes crinkle, as he shoots you a smile. - Wise words.

You observe with growing anticipation, as he opens his hand. The book slides out, falling to the floor with a thud. Your eyes snap back to him, catching him in the process of staring at your lips.

- “I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.” - you whisper.

- So cruel - he muses, the ghost of his breath fanning over the side of your neck. - I shan't even suggest "love", my darling "Lady Disdain". I do, however, require payment for guiding you through this ship.

His working hand climbs the expanse of your neck, pushing your head up, enough for you to feel the bookcase behind you. Acting on instinct, your leg travels up, the night gown slipping, exposing your thigh.

- And what would that payment entail? - you ask, your heart thrumming hard against your ribs, like a bird still longing to be freed from the cage.

- A kiss.

Your heated stares meet in the corner of your left eye, where he hovers over your pulse point. Soon, your lips pull back into a crooked smile.

- Just a kiss?

- And whatever more you can give me. - his eyebrows knit together, as he answers with a pout on his lips, a poor attempt at acting innocent.

As if there was ever a time for innocence, on this strange ship sailing through your dreams. So, you arch your back from the bookcase, hand coming up to drag itself along his arm. Meanwhile, your leg hooks itself around his calf, intention clear as day.

- What will I get in return, should I decide to give you more? - you say in a low voice, the huskiness of your tone surprising, but welcomed by the Pirate with open arms.

The cold metal of his hook startles you, as it begins to travel from behind your ear, along the main artery, until it rests between your collar bones.

- You'll become one of my most valued possessions.

At this, you frown with no real malice behind the expression. It is a dream after all. That being said, one of your hands reaches up and behind him, fingers worming their way into his soft hair. It takes one gentle scratching motion to his scalp, and the Captain nearly moans, his knees buckling under your touch. It soon became clear as day he wasn't used to physical contact, or at least, didn't get much of it.

- I'll have you know, I treasure my freedom greatly. - you counter, fingers tangling themselves into his black locks and tugging ever so gently.

- Is that so? - his voice cracks, but he tries to hide it, by dragging his hook down the front of your body, until it catches onto the fabric of your night gown. - So do I. But sometimes, one needs to take some risks, to gain something one wants.

- And what is it, that you want, Captain? - your question dissapears into his mouth, as he finally closes the distance between you.

To his credit, at first he tries to be gentle, to go slow and sensual. But as soon, as you allow him to continue kissing you, all pretense goes out the window. His beard scratches your face, as he presses himself impossibly close to you, tongue slipping past his lips and nearly forcing itself into your mouth. You grant him access with no grace left, sighing loudly, when his teeth drag themselves over your bottom lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. He laps the red liquid like a man dying of thirst, and you start to wonder, perhaps your sleep-deprived mind has conjured a pirate vampire.

Finally, when you think your lungs can't take any second more without air, he pulls back. His eyes scan your face, and his expression turns smug, as he notices the redness around your lips, the way they are swollen from the kiss.

- Right now, I want to take you over this desk there. - he answers your nearly forgotten question, and your heart lurches from your chest.

- What are you waiting for, then? - perhaps, you sound just a little bit desperate, but why should you care, it was just a dream after all, and you were far too turned on to play any more games.

So, you squeal in delight, as his arm sneaks under your thigh, and he hoists you up. Your arms immediately encircle his neck, and as he carries you over to the desk, your mouth begins a journey of exploration of the space under his chin. Your tongue darts out, licking a long stripe along his pulse, and you begin to worry he'll drop you, from the way his entire body shivers.

Soon, your ass hits the surface of the desk, rich mahogany carved into many intricate designs, never to be appreciated, because as much as you'd love to explore all the antiques, the man before you looks much more appetizing. God, he's beautiful, as he towers over you in all his glory, hair ruffled and shirt even more undone than before. His eyes bear into you, and from where you're sitting, you start to feel like prey, waiting for the predator to strike. And so, he does, his hooked hand coming up to your gown, and dragging it down. You gasp, as the fabric tears, falling alongside your body in long stripes.

- You'll be the death of me - the Captain mutters, eyes slowly climbing over every inch of your exposed skin.

And then he dives in, like a man starved, and all you can do, is angle your neck to give him better access. There's no need for tenderness, as he all but ravishes your neck with rich kisses, his working hand roaming every inch of your exposed body, still, carefully avoiding the one place you needed it the most. The ,almost, painful pressure between your legs starts to build up, not enough to tip you over the edge, but enough to make you annoyed at the lack of any real friction. So, with a furrowed brow and a desperate pout, your hand finds purchase, tangled in his soft hair. Before long, you pull at the roots. Hard.

His head snaps back, teeth snared at the pain you were suddenly causing him. He gives you a confused expression, and you have to shake yourself from the trance his wild eyes put on you.

- Fuck me already, would you? - you pant out, shame thrown out the window.

You can see his face morph right before your very eyes. From slight confusion, to pure, focused determination. You nearly laugh, as he lets go of you almost imediately, in favor of trying to get his pants untied and off of his body, cursing under his breath, as his hand just can't seem to work fast enough. With an affectionate smile, you pull yourself up, hands coming up to help him, detangling the strings holding his leather pants together. Before you can get a glimpse of what's awaiting you, his hand grabs yours, pushing your body down, to lie on the surface of the desk.

Wooden sculptures dig into your naked skin, but at this point, you can't find any care in the world, because his pants are down, and he watches you with such intensity, one would think you're a science project. You can't trust your words, so you just nod your head, in response to his silent request for permission. Soon, all thoughts leave your head, as he pushes in, in one, smooth, languid motion, as if savoring every miniscule twitch and twist of your body.

It's obviously been a long time for the both of you. Bodies finding familiarity in almost forgotten rythm, that starts slow, sensual and close. His breathing is shaky. You can feel his chest expand, his heart thrumming against your own. You allow yourself to get used to the feeling of having him inside you, each push and drag melting away at your bones, as your hands find their rightful place, scratching his working shoulder blades.

- C'mon. - you breath after a while of this tender love-making, and as if on cue, his hips snap up.

A squeak dies on your lips, as the Captain leans down to kiss you, his pace becoming faster, hips trying to move deeper. Soon, your whole body jumps on the surface of the desk, as the wood creaks rythmically under the weight of both of your bodies. You have the half-mind to note how sturdy the piece of furniture is, because the way this man above you is going, most of the surfaces in your apartment would've been reduced to splinters by now.

The Captain continues his ministrations, as the both of you grow closer and closer to you finish lines. Your voice slips past your lips as low, guttural groans, the pressure building seemingly with no chance of stopping it. You just need something to tip you over the edge. Pushed by the need for your own release, your right hand leaves the, now covered with sweat, back of the Captain, in favor of slipping between your conjoined bodies. You start rubbing quick circles, something to help you reach your goal, and as your body spasms, your voice grows ever-louder.

The man in front of you nearly trips in his fervor, your moans clearly affecting him. His brows shoot up, towards his hairline, as his hooked hand smashes itself into the surface of the desk. You would've been more alarmed by the violent outburts, if you weren't currently experiencing, what could easily be called one of the best orgasms of your life. Finding purchase in his stuck hook, the Captain resumes his work, going harder now, chasing his own high.

It doesn't take him long, before he topples over, moans and curses spilling freely from his lips, as his whole body weight crushes you. You're too close to being overstimulated, and you whine, as he finally slides out of you, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, but satisfied nonetheless.

It takes the both of you a while to recover, as you stay for just a moment longer, tangled in eachothers arms, breathing slowly evening out. His head lifts from your chest to look at you, and you push sweat-drenched locks from his flushed cheeks.

He smiles, and for the first time, you can't see any ulterior motive in his expression. It's soft and serene, his eyes glossed over.

- Will the payment be sufficient? - you ask, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've just done.

- Entirely - the man laughs, and you can't help but giggle yourself.

Your body feels heavy with exhaustion. You let your head fall with a thud onto the desk. With half a mind, you note his body weight leaving yours, but there's no energy left in you, to try and look at him. Instead, you choose to close your eyes, the immediate relief of the darkness nearly wrenches a sigh out of you. Blood is pumping through your veins, you can hear it hum in your ears. The desk is slowly getting softer and softer under your body, as if your limbs become accustomed to the wooden surface.

And then, just as you're about to ask for a glass of water, or rum, or whatever the Captain chooses to drink, you smell a familiar scent.

Day's old coffee.

#peter pan #peter pan 2003 x reader #captain hook #captain james hook #captain hook smut #captain hook x reader #captain james hook x reader #my writing

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stuckyrogersbarnes · 6 months

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'Now, dont be a naughty little slut, Y/n.'

(Bucky & Thor smut)

Warnings: Double penetration, edging, degrading kink, edging.

Word count - 1.1K

Female Reader

You had had a tiring day at work. You worked as Tony Stark's assistant since Pepper and Tony got married. You loved your job, but sometimes it was too time-consuming for you to release, if you know, you know. You sigh as you get out of the shower, your hair is wet and you are wearing your new dark red lace panties and an oversized red t-shirt. You had assumed no one was up at this time of night so you didn't bother making an effort to wear anything else. You lived in the compound with everyone else, they were usually asleep by 11 pm. Whereas you, were usually asleep by 2. You walk downstairs to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. You take it towards your lips but then your head bumps into the fridge and all the water spills over you. Your nipples harden at the cold sensation of water and your clit instantly gets swollen after not having any contact with anything for the past few months. "Fuck." You whisper. Not only are you wet from the outside, but the inside too. You hear two different laughs behind you. You freeze. "Oh, looks like she finally heard us." You hear a familiar voice say. You turn back, only to see the two hottest men in the compound - Bucky and Thor. They were standing about 5 feet from you, your legs bare, your nipples hard and your pussy drenched. "Hi, boys. I didn't know you were up." You try to sound as confident as you can. "Oof, look at those tiny little nipples," Bucky remarks, you had never heard him talk like that. "Mmm, yeah they look yummy," Thor smirks. "What are you doin' up so late, doll?" bucky asks, "N-nothing. Just getting some water." "Oh yeah, and how's that working out for you?" Thor asks as he steps forward, you can feel his cool breath on your forehead. He was about a foot taller than you, but he was leaning down. You look down. "Oh, she's shy." you hear Bucky come closer. "Don't be shy, y/n" you hear Bucky say on your left as Thor slides his hand up your right thigh. Your breath became uneven. Bucky's hand touches your ribcage, climbing up, slowly. "Tell us to stop, doll. We will." You look up. "No, please don't." "Oh, look at that, looks like she's craving some good cock 'eh?" You look at Thor as he connects his finger on your clit on top of your panties. At the same time, bucky's fingers squeeze your nipples, tight. You moan and fall back. Thor grabs you with his other hand. "Be careful sweetheart." he chuckles.

Bucky picks you up and puts you on the counter, "Now be quiet doll. We don't want the others hearing you, do we?" You shake your head. "No." "No what?" "Sir?" "Good girl." He takes your t-shirt off and they both groan at the sight of your bare nipples. Bucky and Thor each latch onto one of them. You hold back a moan. Thor's hand begins to circle your throbbing clit, you already begin to shake. "Look at that, she's already about to come." They smirk. They back away and take off their shorts. Only for you to discover, that they weren't wearing any underwear. You swallow at the sight in front of you. They were both gigantic. Bucky was huge, but Thor was humongous. You reach your hand down to your panties and begin to rub. "Now, don't be a naughty little slut, Y/n," Thor growls. You whimper. They both slowly come towards you. Bucky drops to his knees and swiftly licks up your slit. Thor grabs his cock and begins to stroke it. You moan at the sensation of Bucky's eyes tongue inside you. You shut your eyes, unable to keep them open. "Uh uh. Keep your eyes wide open Y/n. look at me." Thor commands. "Fuck." you moan, about to come. You open your eyes. You begin to shake again, you can feel your stomach churning. Bucky groans. Just as you're about to orgasm, bucky stops. You whine at the loss of contact.

"Get on all fours, Y/n. And remember, the safe word is Red." Thor says. "Ye-yes sir," you say getting on all fours. "What's the magic word?" bucky asks. "It's red, sir." "Good slut." You feel Thor's cock at the tip of your asshole, grab some lube from his pocket and thrusts his whole length into your tight, unused asshole. "Fuck, you've never been fucked in the ass have you?" "No sir." You groan at the pain. "I thought a whore like you would have been." You moan as he begins to thrust. Open up wide for me Y/n" Bucky stations himself in front of you. You open your mouth for him. You suck on his tip, glistening with pre-cum. You take in his full length, without gagging. "Fuck, you're so good at this. Good whore." Thor slaps your butt, you moan, making Bucky's cock twitch. "Fuck me, Barnes." You moan. "Oh. Look who's giving me orders." they both chuckle. "Beg for it, slut." "Please! Please sir i need you. Help your little slut." You whimper. "Whatever you say, doll." Thor pulls out and carries you to the couch. Bucky lies down and you climb on top of his cock. Your pussy had never had such a large length, you loved every inch of it. Thor enters from behind. Your scream gets cut off by Bucky's lips on yours. "These doors aren't soundproof Y/n," he warns. They both begin to thrust, giving you a feeling that you had never felt before.

You begin to see stars, and both your pussy and ass hole clench around their cocks, you hold back your scream as you come all over their cocks. They don't stop. They start to go faster, harder. Making you squirt all over them, again. "Oof, look at that. Our little slut knows how to squirt." Thor says in a growl. "Yes, she does." They re-enter you, bucky takes his finger down to your clit and begins to rub. You moan, on edge again. They pull out as you squirt on them again. Bucky moans as he comes on your clit and thor on your ass cheek. You moan at the warm feeling of their come.

"Did you enjoy that, Y/n?" Bucky asks. "Yes sir." "Good girl," Thor says.

#bucky barnes #one shot #smut #the avengers #female reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel smut #bucky x reader #thor odinson #thor #thor ragnarok #thor smut

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witches-and-devils · 2 years

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Kinktober Day Two, Floor Sex

Hey, warning! The following is some smut I wrote about these complicated men. Trigger warning for some degradation, face fucking, monster fucking, and being restrained. Have fun!

Ace sighed as his notes from the night before fluttered in the wind that swept through the house. Locking himself up in his room to work on spells was hardly healthy for his sanity, but the lack of proper space to study inside wasn’t exactly helping the raging headache that had been pounding through his mind since he awoke that morning. It felt like he could barely focus, so when a heavy foot stepped straight onto the freshly-inked diagram he’d finished not more than ten minutes ago, he might have lost his cool a little.

“You-!” Damascus blinked, staring down at the papers that had been scattered across the floor as a hand lazily reached up to scratch at his cheek.

“Oh. Probably not the best place to be working, Little Boss.” Oh, he was going to kill him. This was it! This was the moment he ripped the smug fuck to shreds!

“You know, for someone who could have easily died a long time ago if I hadn’t been constantly working on my magic, you tend to be an ungrateful shit about it!” “Relax, you’re gonna pop that vein in your neck.”

“Vein!?”

“The vein that sticks out whenever ya start whinin’.” The Witch huffed, his face a dark red as he stood up and began to pace the room.

“You idiotic, gigantic, lumbering brute of a-” Ace screeched with a fury as he felt Damascus’s arm hook around his waist, hugging the smaller man flush against his body. As he kicked and screamed at him. Rolling his eyes, the Demon stooped down low enough to run his teeth along the redhead’s neck, closing his eyes as a deep purr bubbled up from his throat.

“No- no! You do not get to tease your way out of this just because you’re so self-centered that you didn’t even bother to look at where you were-”

“Ace.”

“What!?” A growl made Ace freeze for a moment, feeling the shaking against Damascus’s chest as he nibbled away at his shoulder.

“Ya’ve been locked up all day.”

“And?”

“Don’t ya think it might be fun to just relax for a bit?” Relax? Oh- oh he- Okay, Damascus wanted to fuck. Wait, was that why he stepped on his paper!? He was feeling needy!? That- that bastard! He couldn’t just say something he had to piss him off and ruin-

The pink chain manifested quickly in Ace’s hand, the bond wrapping around his arm as he yanked down hard enough to cause his Familiar to go sprawling onto his back with a surprised grunt. His research scattered to the winds as he clambered on top of his with surprising speed.

“Hey- what about the-”

“Fuck that, and fuck you!” This bastard felt neglected enough to fuck up his work? Fine then. But Ace was going to be the one getting off first. He needed an outlet so his anger wasn’t seeping out into everything he did for the rest of the day. Hands flying to his belt, the jingling filled the space as an excited spark entered Damsacus’s darkened eyes. His own hands started to move towards his belt, getting ahold of the buckle before a burst of wind blew them back and pinned them down to the wooden floor underneath him.

“Hey-”

“Not. Yet,” Ace growled, unzipping his pants and moving them down far enough for his member to spring free. A shudder ran up his spine as the cool forest air hit him, his hand already stroking himself as he groaned at the sensation. Now, Damascus was a big guy, having nearly two feet of a height difference when compared to Ace, but that didn’t change a thing as the Witch crawled just above his head and shoved his cock up against his lips. “Open wide,” he teased, staring down between his arms to watch the realization flash across his Familiar’s face. Slowly, his lips parted only for his wicked tongue to flick out and begin wrapping around his dick. Ace nearly fell to the ground from the brief burst of pleasure, but he couldn’t just give in and let him take control of the moment.

Steading himself and digging his fingertips into the grain of the wood, Ace thrust down into Damascus’s mouth as far as he could until he heard a gag sounding from the man underneath him. God, it felt so deliciously perfect inside. That tongue wrapped around him, sharp teeth just barely grazing against his sensitive flesh, the warmth that seemed to envelop him. Damascus reached up, trying to grasp at his waist again only for the wind to force him back once more.

“You’re right, Damascus. I have been cooped up inside my room all day. I could use the chance to relax, thank you for offering! Now, be a good slut for me and relax that pretty throat of yours, hm?” The Demon groaned, his clothed cock bucking up into the air at his words as Ace started to fuck into his face at an inconsiderate speed. His tongue fell out as his mouth hung open, his back arching up into the air as he felt Damascus’s throat constricting and tightening around him. “There you go, big guy. Just like that- fuck- perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect, perfect-!” He could hear his Familiar gasping for air when he could, see the fucked out look on his face as his throat twitched. Ace hummed, leaning back enough so he could keep using the Demon’s amazing mouth for himself while a hand came down and grabbed one of the horns hidden beneath his thick hair. “Thought it was such a good idea to fuck with my work, didn’t you? What if I just left you like this, huh? Used your throat for some easy stress relief and left you to take care of yourself? I am very busy you know, it wouldn’t bother me at all.”

The whine that escaped Damascus was enough to set Ace at the edge, a loud moan slipped past him as he threw his head back. Both hands fisted into his short hair, raising his head up just enough before cumming down his throat with a string of curses leaving his lips. He stayed like that for a moment, his dick twitching inside the man’s mouth before he slowly slipped out and forced his partner’s mouth shut with one of his hands. “Swallow,” he ordered, watching Damascus’s throat shift before letting him open up to prove to him that not a drop of his cum had been wasted. “Good boy,” he hummed happily, soothingly rubbing along the Demon’s jawline as he gasped for air.

“Ace, ya can’t-”

“Shhhh, I know, I know. Don’t worry about that, big guy.” Ace leaned back, stripping off his pants as he freed Damascus’s aching cock from his pants. “We’re just getting started. You just sit back and enjoy the show. Maybe next time you won’t be so impatient and let me clean up first, hm?” A low chuckle escaped the Witch as he watched Damascus hungrily staring at him, before happily sinking onto his cock and drinking in the Demon’s cries of pleasure.

#k!nktober #tetraphilia #demons #magic #witches #ace & damascus #monster fucker #tw monsterfucking #tw degredation #tw restraints #tw face fucking #kinktober #Ace tops pretty hard in this one

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feverinfeveroutfic · 2 years

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chapter nineteen: heart and lungs

"let's take jesus off the dashboard, got enough on his mind. we both know just what we're here for; saved too many times. maybe i like this roller coaster, maybe it keeps me high. maybe the speed it brings me closer: i could sparkle up your eye." -"diet mountain dew", lana del rey

“It’s been a long time coming,” the mysterious man whispered to her. Sam had woken up to find herself in the middle of a vast stretch of desert. Stubby scraggly shrubs surrounded her: when she sat upright, she gazed straight ahead to the dark narrow two-lane highway which seemed to go on for infinity. Far off in the distance, to the right of the highway stood a massive tall stone monolith the color of an old brick: the sky was as perfect blue as she had ever seen it before. Everything felt like a photograph, a photograph courtesy of a blonde woman on a bicycle who bailed for two years to seize every day she could.

She turned her head and she saw him there next to her on the sand, with his long dark hair billowed back from his head and shoulders, and the shadows across his eyes. He still had a small light sliver over his forehead much like Alex, but he had a full shape to his face much like Joey and long lanky legs like Cliff. A fusion of the three men she loved before.

But he resembled the most to the former. She swore that she would always love Joey and Cliff for all eternity, and no matter what happened to her or what she did with her own life, and thus there was something about his body that made her shudder—and more so than ever as well—upon her laying her eyes on him. He lay on his side on the sand, which in turn cocked his hip up in comparison to the rest of his body. Shapely and gorgeous, just like Alex.

“A long time since we saw each other or a long time coming with Alex?” she asked him.

“I’ll let you figure that one out,” he told her. “Remember, I am only here to guide you.”

Sam stared straight ahead to the highway and the monolith off of the side of the road. Even though they were out in the middle of the desert and in the middle of summer by the look of it, nothing felt as hot as it should to her.

She climbed up to her feet and stood there in the middle of the road. The mysterious man followed suit right next to her and the bottom hem of his shirt lifted up as he lingered right next to her. The bottom button opened up with his own ghostliness: he even had the bruises of vampire bites on his soft waist just like Alex did all that time ago.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked her in a soft voice, soft enough for it to echo over the pavement and the canyon behind them. Sam peered behind her to the gaping chasm which had to have been several miles wide: the highway dropped down inside of the hole before it continued onto the other side.

“Well, I want to go forward, obviously,” she told him with a gesture to the end of the highway as well as the rock off in the distance.

“You say that now but do you really?”

“It’s weird, this is the first time since the accident you’ve been this articulate with me,” she stated.

“You’re older now, and therefore you’ve seen a lot more. When there’s a lot more going on in your life, I'm able to pick things up better. It’s not as weird as you might think it is.”

She stared straight ahead to the highway as it went on for eternity, as well as the gigantic monolith on the horizon. Not a lick of heat one around them, and no breeze, either. But when she turned her head back to the mysterious man, his hair fanned back from his head and his shirt billowed up his body as if he had been caught in an updraft courtesy of the canyon.

“You know what’s one thing I've never been able to figure out about you?” she started, and her voice echoed over the broken highway behind them.

“What’s that?”

“How has Marla seen you when you are the only one inside of my mind?”

“She has her own problems, too. Just like you and Belinda both.”

“Belinda, too?” She gaped at him.

“Everyone you’ve known has had someone like me come to visit them at some point in their dreams. Everyone has dreams and everyone tries to dissect them even if they’re not very superstitious. It's like your mirror image of sorts: you try to pick things apart but you forget that it’s only a small piece of the puzzle. You're a whole human, as is Marla, Belinda, and your husband.”

“And I have another question, too,” she started again.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you supposed to be Alex, Cliff, or Joey?”

“I’m everything and everyone you see with your voice inside.”

Sam frowned at that as she struggled to piece that riddle together. She hoped it was all a riddle, anyway. A riddle to help her uncover the meaning of life as she knew it. She returned her attention to the road before her as well as the monolith on the horizon. She was smart, she had to know it.

Or maybe she wasn’t that smart after all and she had made up the whole thing as she went along, just like everyone else.

“By the way, you might want to think twice before you go any further, too,” he told her, and his voice echoed a lot more right then.

“What do you mean—?” She turned her head again and she saw that he was gone. Sam turned her body around all the way right as something filled up the canyon behind her. A river of thick heavy black tar of some sort. Thick heavy black tar with a silvery sheen on one part of the surface. It rose higher and higher until it reached the top of the canyon.

Sam turned the other way to run forward when Belinda on her bicycle hurtled towards her at the speed of darkness. She stuck out her legs from the sides of the bike as she prepared to slow down, but it seemed like a thousand versions of her darted towards her almost like that of a ghost train. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out.

“Samantha!”

She jolted herself awake and she lay there flat on her back with her hands down by her sides. Alex's worried face, though shrouded in shadow, loomed over her.

“Samantha, are you okay?” he asked her in a hushed voice.

“Yeah. I think.” She swallowed and she relaxed her whole body. He let out a low sigh and bowed his head over her chest.

“What happened?” she asked him, to which he lifted his head and gazed on at her through the darkness.

“You went all stiff and then you shuddered about—like you were cold, but it’s not that cold in here and you were cozied up to me.”

She let out a low whistle and closed her eyes again.

“God, I just... I had the weirdest dream just now,” she told him.

“What was it?”

“I was in a desert and—there was this perfectly straight highway before me and as it disappeared over the horizon, there was this big rock at the end there. Behind me there was this big canyon and it filled up with like this black tar shit—and I was about to run away, I got ran over.”

“Jeez,” he remarked as he rolled off of her and lay on his back.

“Yeah, it had to have been one of the worst dreams I had in a long time.”

She fetched up a sigh again and relaxed her whole body.

“What time is it?” she asked him. He paused for a moment, and she rolled her head over the top of the pillow for a look at the side of his head. He peered over at the little digital clock on the nightstand.

“It’s... it’s...?” He rubbed his eyes. “Looks like—a quarter to five in the morning?”

“Okay. When do we leave for California again?”

“Tomorrow. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Sam sighed through her nose and she closed her eyes for what she hoped to be a moment, but the next thing she knew she awoke to gray morning sunlight. She hoped that they would be able to fly out to San Diego the next day as some little snow flurries fluttered down beyond their window on and off again.

She had all manner of hopes as she gazed down at the three rings on her fingers and she adjusted them every so often.

There was something rather adorable to that whenever Alex did it. He would be reclining back on the couch and then he would set two fingertips on the edges of the ring, and he would turn it like the corkscrew on a bottle of dessert wine. He had just turned absolutely adorable to her over the course of a few months, such that it only further convoluted her feelings about their marriage. She wanted to have him closer to her, no question about it, but she also stood by what she had said to him on their wedding day. It was the wrong choice for the both of them, and that wrong feeling manifested itself on the next morning when they flew out to California.

She held onto the hat that Cliff had given her, which she hadn’t worn in so long it seemed, as she made her way through the airport towards their terminal, and all the while she hadn’t paid much attention to the fact Alex lingered behind to give some people directions out of there.

“Samantha—Samantha! Wifey!”

She whirled around for a grin and a chuckle at him as he hurried his way through the airport towards her, complete with one hand on the side of his peacoat and the other hand on the strap of his overnight bag.

“Wifey?” she asked him as he came within earshot.

“Wifey. Yeah, that’s you. You’re my wife.”

“It’s funny, there’s this strange possessiveness to it,” she confessed to him. “Like, this is my husband, Alex Skolnick. Where’s my husband? This is my husband.”

“Same story with me!” he declared. “I actually really like saying you’re my wife. Samantha is my wife. My wife over here. My wife is an artist, and a great one at that, too.”

She took out the journal for a round of ink drawing on the flight out to San Francisco first; it felt like forever since the last time she had gone out there with Marla, out to Catalina Island, that she wondered if it was snowing at all out there in her old long-time home. They rose high over the dark puffy clouds as they collected over New York City and New Jersey, and all Sam could think about was even more facial expressions.

Alex propped up his chin on the back of his knuckles and he set his elbow down on the armrest between them, and he watched her doodle.

“Adding some more emotion to my humans,” she explained to him.

“You can never have too much emotion—” He stopped. “Well, actually, you can. But you’re doing it in literally the best way possible.” There was something about the way in which he said the words “doing it” that struck her as odd. Indeed, she raised her gaze to him for a second, but it was long enough for her to examine the look in his eyes.

That smoldering expression from their wedding day: Belinda’s words rang through her mind right then. He was burning, smoldering all for her, a fire pit filled with kindling ready to ignite. All it needed was a spark, and one courtesy of her. She could feel the heat from those deep eyes, the way in which he tilted his head back against the seat and he showed off his neck to her.

All of those times in which she thought of planting a little kiss on the side of his neck, especially when his hair was long, lush, and very full. If he still had those long, gorgeous curls, she wouldn’t have a second thought about it. But something held her back.

She was all too confused about everything, more confused than she had ever been in years. She thought she was confused at twenty-one when Cliff had been killed and more so at twenty-six when she and Joey were together. Her entire head engulfed itself into a fog on that flight alone.

As she and Alex walked off of the plane together and to the hospital near the heart of Berkeley, her train of thought fell sideways and she couldn’t help but feel like she had made a horrible mistake. She thought it over and over again, especially when she returned to the dream that she had had the couple of nights before then.

She couldn’t back up otherwise it was a step backwards and she would find herself stuck in the same situation as before. She couldn’t divorce from Alex because she knew that it would hurt him, especially when she kept on seeing the flames in his eyes. The man was on fire and there was no one else to douse it but her.

They asked around for Chuck and Tiffany and within time, they walked across the linoleum and to the next corridor, the one with the cancer patients all stacked up against each other. The next room down the line and Alex nodded at the number panel on the wall next to the doorway. Sam made her way into the brightly lit hospital room first and Alex followed. At the far end of the row of patients stood Tiffany with her arms folded over her chest.

“There he is,” he declared from behind Sam. She could feel his fingers on the inside of her palm despite everything else. But she moved her hand away from her own side once they reached a concerned Tiffany who backed away from the foot of the bed, and thus, the two of them could have a better look at Chuck. Nestled down in his hospital bed with a plastic transparent mask over his nose and mouth and a patch of pale white gauze over the bare sliver of his chest exposed from under the neckline of his hospital gown.

“Hey, you two,” Chuck greeted them in a voice made hollow from the mask over his face. “Mr. and Mrs. Skolnick, I should say.” Alex put his arm around Sam’s shoulder and held her close to his body.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to come to your wedding,” Tiffany told them with a break in her voice.

“Nothing you could do, to be honest,” Sam assured her. “We’re doing what we can right now.”

“We are, too,” Tiffany continued. “Our hospital bills are staggering right now.”

“You guys don’t have the money?” Alex was stunned by that, to which Tiffany shook her head.

“We’re almost broke, actually,” Chuck joined in right then, his voice hollow and faraway. Sam parted her lips at that, and she glanced over at him reclined there in his bed. He had a smile on his face but she could see it in his eyes, however. Indeed, he locked eyes with her and he frowned at the look on her own face. She had been in a mental fog that whole entire time, and she wondered if it was on her face. She was in fact drawing more expressions as of late; but she wondered if he knew at all, all by a mere glimpse on at her.

“They found the cancer early and then they went in and took the tumor off of his heart,” Tiffany explained. “They found some more tumors on his lungs and he’s having to undergo chemo now.” She sighed through her nose and closed her eyes. Alex set a hand on her shoulder.

“He’s gonna be okay,” he promised her, and a tear streaked down her cheek.

“It’s just so horrifying,” she wept to them. “I know that I can lose him.”

Sam thought back to when Cliff passed, and how the reality hit her at the drop of the hat. She knew that she could lose anybody from that point onward, and Chuck’s cancer only doubly confirmed that. It was a theme that had followed her in the last fourteen years as well, and she knew that the same thing hung over Alex’s head, especially after her own car accident. Everything was precious, and sometimes it took a monumental loss such as the accident that killed Cliff for everyone to realize this, too.

But before either one of them could get another word in, the nurse walked in from behind Sam and Alex. She carried a silver tray full of tools as well as a big syringe, the kind involved in bone marrow transfusions.

“Another round,” he announced. Aside from the look in his eyes, he seemed a lot more cheerful than usual, and Sam wondered if it came from the fact that he was sick with something potentially deadly. He knew that he could die from this, and yet he had to maintain the smile on his face.

Tiffany wiped away a tear as the nurse turned to Sam and Alex.

“Maybe you guys can come back later?” she suggested in a soft voice. “He has a blood donation and a bone marrow donation scheduled for today.”

“Oh, damn,” Alex remarked, and he slid his hand up Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we can totally come back,” she told the nurse, and she treated Chuck to a gentle little wave. “We’ll catch you later, Chuck.”

He flashed them a peace sign before they stepped out of the room. Once Sam reached the hallway first, she took off her hat and she ran her fingers through her dark hair: her engagement ring almost entwined around a lock of hair but she jerked her hand away before it could. Alex surfaced from the room and he turned his attention to her.

Much like the days followed Cliff’s passing, the feeling of the clock ticking and that she could never feel Alex’s body again at the drop of the hat lingered over her head like the cold mists of the San Francisco fog. That fiery look returned to his face right then as well.

They all had known each other so long that she realized that Chuck picked it up on her face from a few feet away from them. She could see it on Alex’s face as well, even with shadow over his head and shoulders. In fact, she wondered if Chuck and Alex could see it on each other.

“Want to get something to eat?” Alex offered her in a low voice.

“Please.”

San Francisco had grown so much since the last time Sam had visited there: so many new places had sprung up out of nowhere, and so many old places had gone away, some of which to make room for the new. That was a rather low-key fact of her life as well: Alex ridding of his long hair for a more sensible look. Moreover, she needed to leave California to bring herself a brand-new chapter of life in New York, and then back to California, and here she was again, in a new chapter of the state so close to her, and it all had advanced itself to a point in which she almost didn’t even recognize the place. The one thing that struck her as familiar was the Golden Gate Bridge.

Not that long ago they were over there with their eyes on the cold torrential waters down below as well as Alcatraz Island, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago at the same time.

They stopped outside of the café and then, as he killed the ignition, Alex turned towards her and stuffed his tongue into her mouth. Sam sank down into her seat and gripped onto the top of the car door and the center console. She tried to feel around for the crotch of his jeans to gather his attention, but he had lunged so far out of the driver’s seat that she groped at the base of the seat.

Despite the surprise, his tongue resembled to velvet. The fact he was sober only added to the softness inside of his mouth. He pressed his hands on the sides of her face and she relaxed her entire body at the feeling. Rather than fight it, she instead moved her left hand up to the small of his back, complete with a gentle massage of the seat of his pants first.

He moved his tongue out from her mouth and he pressed his lips onto her own. Smooth like ripe cherries and sweet as a fresh latte courtesy of the Bay Area itself.

Sam pushed her chest out so he could go back into his seat. He gave himself to her right there even if it was nothing more than a peck on each other’s lips. He was a bad boy for catching her off guard like that and he needed to be punished.

As they went into the café for a round of lunch, he extended his legs towards her from underneath the table.

“Don’t you be playin’ footsie with me,” she scolded him with a wag of her finger. He showed her his tongue, but she knew that two could play that game however.

After lunch, they returned to their hotel room for a time before they could visit Chuck again. Alex bowed into the room first and he lunged for the bed. He lay on his back for her: it was right then that she missed his long lush hair, and she couldn’t help but picture some of those tendrils spread across his neck and his collar bones. Though she knew that he could wear his hair in any fashion and look cute, long hair fitted him like a glove. She knew that it came from her extensive time in the world of fashion, but as she stood there in the room’s doorway, she only took one look over at him and she realized he had the right face for long hair.

She kept on picturing the long hair on him as she shut the door behind her and she swaggered her way towards him. She reached down and stripped off his jeans for him.

She held onto him with one hand and he showed her a little smirk again. He reached forward and held onto the waistband of her jeans and he tugged down for her. She kicked them off and she climbed on top of him.

Something was off, though. She had no idea if it was the fact that he wasn’t as firm as she wondered he would be, but she couldn’t feel it for herself. Not only did things miss her, but she could see it on his face. The new proved to be too much for him, and somewhere along the way he had forgotten the weight of his own heart, and he had forgotten to breathe as well.

They were obviously in the mood, but the feeling had missed them both. Her head was in a fog, but nothing like the fog over her on that night with Lars. Indeed, as Alex gazed on at her, his smirk disappeared. He was far from erect, as well.

With that, he shook his head at her. But rather than roll with it herself, she frowned at him.

“What’s the matter?” she asked him.

“I can’t,” he quipped to her.

“Why not? Alex, it’s not like we’re in an airplane.”

“I know, it’s just—”

“What?”

“I’m not ready.”

“Ready? Alex, I’ve seen you naked a few times and I once had my hand down your shorts. What do you mean, you’re not ready?”

“I’m just not ready to have sex yet, Samantha.”

“You’ve done it with Zelda, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but we were both comfortable, though. I can tell right away that you aren’t comfortable, Samantha.”

She looked on at him, befuddled and slightly bemused. She locked eyes with him as he lowered his hands from her shoulders.

“I can tell,” he told her in a near whisper. “I’ve seen how you are with me, Samantha. This isn’t you.”

Sam climbed off of him and she sat down right next to his head and shoulders. He gazed up at her with his eyes wide and his smooth little lips parted a bit. He looked down at his waist and then he sat up and pulled his jeans back up his legs.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked her.

“I...” But her mouth went dry. She had already confessed it to him on their wedding day and no matter how many times they said it aloud, she still couldn’t feel it. No amount of faking her way to it could do justice for her, and she wondered if he knew it, too, especially since he had been sincere in his feelings to her this whole time. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and he stared straight ahead to the wall between the bathroom and the rest of the room.

“You know... that lunch was delicious,” he started again. “And I kind of don’t want to do anything right now, either. School's been crazy for you and me both, and the release party for Trans-Siberian Orchestra is coming up here. I kind of—want to rest for a bit. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Sam shook her head and without another word, he inched back to the middle of the bed and he lay down and rolled over onto his side. She peered over her shoulder to find that he had his back to her.

She returned to the wall before her and her bottom lip trembled. Everything was more confusing than her early twenties, especially since this was her own best friend she sat on the other side of the bed from. She should have been more than overjoyed to call herself his wife, but she wasn’t, and the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if there was something he wasn’t telling her, either. Even with his sincerity, he still kept something hidden. Inside of him was a whole other hallway that she had no access to, and that was because she herself had that same thing. Joey did, too, and so did Cliff. They were whole humans, even with their hidden fragments, just like the mysterious man had told her.

And yet it was so frustrating. She wanted to figure out Alex no matter what the cost, and no amount of marriage could uncover the truth to her because neither of them had their hearts into it. Their hearts, or their lungs.

“We blew it getting married,” she confessed with a break in her voice. Alex was silent at that. Sam sniffled and a tear streaked down her face. This whole time, she didn’t want to upset him, but she wound up doing it unto herself instead. “We blew it, Alex. We—fucking—blew it.”

She buried her face into her hands and the tears bled out right then. She paid no attention to him behind her as he inched up next to her again.

She lifted her face out from her hands and he was right next to her with his arms open for her.

“Come here...” he whispered to her. She leaned into him and he held her close to his body. She returned the favor for him, the hardest she had ever hugged him. He held back and gazed into her face, with his eyebrows flat, his head bowed, and the corner of his mouth kicked out.

A look of absolute pain.

“I love you forever,” he told her; she could see the tears in his eyes as well. “You know that, right?”

“Of course.”

“I want to hear it from you, though. I’ve yet to hear it from you. We’ve been married a whole two months and I can tell you that marriage is give and take. I’ve been giving you all the ‘I love you’s there has been to give up. But I’ve yet to hear it from you.”

She bowed her head and swallowed. She had the real words on the tip of her tongue, but she had no idea if he was ready to hear them. If he wasn’t ready to go a step further with her, then it made sense to her to keep the real words at bay from him. The real words. The last thing she had thought of before she wandered over to the edge of her own demise.

“I love you... more than anything in the world,” was all she could think of in lieu of the real thing. But he shook his head at that.

“It’s got to come from the soul, Samantha,” he told her. “I can tell it didn’t come from your soul.” He sniffled and bowed away from her. He crawled back to the other side of the bed and lay back down on his side, with his back once again towards her. She wished it was all easier than that and she wished that could find the answers right then and there, but alas, she couldn’t. No going back from that point onward, otherwise the black tar would swallow her whole.

Not just her, but him, too.

Alex began to breathe harder right then, and she realized that he had dozed off. He was tired, no exaggeration about that. Sam kept her jeans off of her legs as she inched towards the headboard. She gazed on at the back of his head and a little part of the sliver on his head.

“No one will ever you the way I have loved you,” she said in a low voice. She lay back down and rolled over onto her side. She had no idea if Alex had already fallen asleep or if he was pretending, but that time she meant it.

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mayhemproduces · 2 months

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Joshua Bishop (c) vs Dyln Blaine- MPW World Championship

An unprecedented theft of the MPW World Championship months ago, revealed after some time to be Dyln Blaine and the rest of GenZ, finally comes to a head tonight. Joshua Bishop will either get his MPW World Championship belt back… or lose the right to call himself MPW World Champion all together. The belt, and the title of champion on the line tonight, while Bishop has one, Blaine and GenZ still have the other. Blaine even walked out here tonight with the belt around his waist, apparently already calling his shot that he’d leave here champion tonight. There’ a 6’4 260 pound Intense Icon who might have something to say about that though…

With both competitors in the ring, Steve Guy is set to start formal introductions…

“Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, it is now time for your main event of the evening! People of the Franklin Music Hall, and those watching around the world…

ARE YOU READY FOR A FIGHT?!”

The reaction from our crowd tonight here in Philly shows that they’ve been waiting for this one just as long as we have! Lets go!

“Introducing first, the challenger, standing in the corner to my right…”

A noticeable mixed reaction, but maybe not as much as Blaine had hopped for. This isn’t exclusively a Philly crowd tonight, with fans from all over the world coming in for Wrestlemania weekend.

“Fighting out of Philidelphia, Pennsylvania, he weighed in this morning at 182 pounds, and being accompanied to the ring tonight by Lilith Brookes, Mikey Montgomery, Eric Taylor, and Ophelia, representing GenZ, he is the Problem Child, Dyln Blaine!”

Blaine steps forward, holding up the MPW World Championship, and brazenly doesn’t back down when Bishop takes a couple steps towards him, although that’s probably because referee Tom Dunn steps in front of Bishop for the moment, wanting to keep this one civil until the bell rings.

“And his opponent, standing in the corner to my left… Fighting out of of Rip City, he weighed in this morning at 260 pounds, he is your MPW World Champion, representing The Rip City Shooters, he is Mr. Up for Anything, The Intense Icon, Joshua Bishop!”

With a beating of his chest and a gigantic roar, the Intense Icon gets the fans to their feet for our main event here tonight! Referee Tom Dunn presents the World Championship to both men, before handing it over to Steve Guy and calling for the bell, we are underway!

The two men circled one another, the proverbial calm before the storm setting in, before both men go for a lock up, perhaps not what one might expect out of these two, after the months of running and mindgames, but sometimes with that waiting comes a little bit of clear headedness. Bishop, the bigger and stronger of the two men, forced Dyln back into the corner after much jockeying for position, with Tom telling Bishop to get Dyln out of the corner after a couple of seconds. Bishop actually complied, despite the No Disqualification nature of MPW Championship matches, but not without a wide grin and a pat to Dyln’s chest, Bishop knowing he got the better of that first exchange. Bishop beckoned Dyln to bring it as he backed off to his own side of the ring, before the two began to circle one another once again. The two lock up once again, this time it’s Dyln getting the better of it, trapping Bishop with a wrist lock and twisting him back into a hammerlock, trying to wear down Bishop’s arm, trying to prevent some of those powerful throws and slams Bishop relies so heavily on. Dyln transitions to a headlock, before once again taking control of the arm, and sending Bishop into the ropes with a whip. On the rebound Dyln tries for a hip toss, but the bigger, stronger Josh Bishop blocks it, before nearly trying to decapitate Dyln with a clothesline, which Dyln ducks under! Dyln slips behind Bishop and traps him in a waistlock, which Bishop tries to force him off with a back elbow, which Dyln also ducks, and then Dyln takes Bishop down with a double leg! It looks like Dyln wants to transition it into a Boston Crab or something of the like, but Bishop kicks Dyln off of him, sending Dyln flying back across the ring!

Dyln gets back up in time to see Bishop charging him, looking for another clothesline, which Dyln ducks and hits the ropes. Bishop tries for another on the rebound, but Dyln ducks that too, hits the ropes again, and knocks Bishop down with a running forearm! The big man is off his feet, and it looks like Dyln’s strategy early on here is to stick and move around the much larger Josh Bishop. Bishop tried to grab at Blaine once again, but Blaine rolled under Bishop’s grab, getting behind him and catching Bishop with a dropkick to the back of the knee, dropping Bishop down to just one knee! Dyln hit the ropes again, and tries to come back at Josh Bishop, but Bishop latches onto Dyln’ throat with his hand, and tries to send Dyln for the ride with a Chokeslam, but Dyln manages to get free, and leap up onto Bishop, trying to lock in some sort of Guillotine Choke! Bishop shoves Dyln right off, and Dyln lands on his feet, only to get his head kicked off with a HUGE Pump Kick! Dyln’ eyes roll into the back of his head as he hits the mat, and Bishop hooks the leg for the cover!

1….2… Kickout!

Dyln out at two. Joshua Bishop gets back up to his feet and drags Dyln up with him, before sending Dyln into the corner, charging in after him, and crashing into Dyln with a body splash. Bishop follows it up, and catches Dyln with a kick to the ribs, before picking Blaine up, and blasting him with a straight right hand to the head, dazing Blaine further. Bishop whips Blaine across the ring, sending Blaine hard into the turnbuckle, but as Bishop charges in after him, Blaine gets the foot up, sending Bishop stumbling backwards in a daze. Blaine tries to charge at Bishop, but Bishop wraps both hands around Blaine’s throat, before tossing him overhead with a double choketoss! The strength of Joshua Bishop is out of this world! Hoisting and throwing the much smaller Blaine overhead with ease!

Bishop gets up and does a little jig, as the fans are making themselves heard, chants of “Fuck ‘em up Bishop, fuck ‘em up!” as Blaine struggled to pull himself up to his knees. Blaine resorts to just rolling out of the ring, and despite the referee’s insistence for Bishop to give him space, Bishop follows him out there. Bishop kicks Blaine into the guardrail, before blasting him with a couple of straight right hands to dizzy Blaine further. Bishop grabs Blaine again and whips him across to the other side of the ring, sending Blaine crashing into the steel guardrail! Bishop grabs Blaine again, pulling him into a headlock, and marching over to the other side of ringside with him, but Blaine, maybe finally having found his second wind, shoves Josh Bishop face first into the steel ringpost! Blaine may have just created the opening he needed!

Bishop gets up, blood starting to drip down from where the ringpost opened him up, and turns around, walking right into a chairshot from Dyln Blaine! Bishop stumbles backwards, dazed by that last one, as Dyln jumps up onto the ring apron, measures Bishop, and jumps off again, bringing the chair down on Bishop’s head and knocking Josh Bishop down on the outside! Bishop is down and out, but as we know from past experience, that’s only for the time being! Dyln tosses the chair into the ring, and slides in there himself, watching as Bishop struggles to get up on the outside. Dyln hits the ropes, and charges back at Bishop with a full head of steam, diving through the ropes and sending Joshua Bishop into the steel guardrail with a suicide dive! The World Champion gets crushed against the guardrail! Dyln manages to get Bishop back up, and rolls him into the ring, looking to take the World Championship!

1….2… Kickout!

Josh Bishop out at two. Blaine is quickly rolling out of the ring, looking for some weapons to bring into this one. Blaine slid a door, a couple of chairs, and a few bundles of light tubes into the ring, before sliding back into the ring himself, and trying to slow Bishop, who was already trying to get back to his feet, with a front facelock. Blaine continued wrenching down on it, before lifting Josh up and tossing him across the ring! Josh landed on his back but quickly got back up to his feet, and as Blaine charged him, Josh caught Blaine with a boot to the gut, before grabbing one of the light tubes Blaine brought into the ring and smashing it over Blaine’s back! Blaine cried out in agony, but answered by standing back up straight and blasting Josh with a chop to the chest, so hard that it actually dropped Josh! Josh hit the mat and rolled to the outside, and Blaine followed him out there, trying to grab Josh but Josh had already gotten his hands on a chair, and drove the point of it right into Blaine’s gut! Blaine hunched over in pain, before Josh raised the chair up and cracked it across Blaine’s back, dropping Blaine to the floor! Bishop grabbed Blaine back up and peppered him with a couple of stiff forearms, before lifting him up and driving him down onto the wooden floor on the outside with a suplex! Both men might be worse for wear after that one!

Bishop manages to struggle up to his feet, and tosses Blaine back into the ring. Bishop began to dig under the ring for some toys to use in this one. He pulled up a couple of tube bundles and a kendo stick, and, perhaps most terrifyingly, a 2x4 wrapped in barbed wire, tossing all of those in the ring, before Josh rolled into the ring and lifted Blaine back up to his feet, before blasting Blaine with a chop. Bishop backed Blaine into the corner, and caught him with a few more chops, before running across the ring and hitting the opposite turnbuckle, trying to come back at Blaine with a Stinger Splash, but Blaine caught Bishop, lifting him up, and tossed him across the ring with an overhead German suplex! Bishop was folded inside out, and rolled up to his knees, allowing Blaine to grab one of the tube bundles, and smash it over Bishop’s head! Glass shards showered down on Josha as he fell to his side, and Blaine hooked his leg, looking for a cover, to win the World title!

1…..2… Kickout!

Bishop manages to kick out. Blaine gets back to his feet, and brushes his hair out of his face, before watching as Bishop fights back to his feet again. Blaine hits the ropes behind Josh, and then hits the other set of ropes, building momentum for some sort of move, but as Blaine charges back at Josh, Bishop catches him and swings him around, before planting him with a Black Hole Slam! Bishop drives Blaine to the mat! And he’s not done there! Bishop picks Blaine back up and hoists him onto his shoulders, before charging the corner, and driving Blaine through the pane of glass with a huge Death Valley Driver! Bishop drags Blaine out of the corner, and hooks the leg, looking to retain!

1….2… kickout!

How the hell did Dyln Blaine kick out of that?! We know this kid is tough, but that’s the kind of combination Joshua Bishop usually puts people down with. Josh Bishop himself is beginning to look a little frustrated, perhaps not expecting this much fight out of a smaller opponent like Dyln. Joshua Bishop grabs a handful of Dyln’ hair, using it to pull Dyln back to his feet, before blasting Dyln with a stiff forearm shot that catches him right on the jaw. Bishop looks to line up another, when Dyln suddenly surprises Bishop with a headbutt, sending Bishop stumbling backwards! Dyln quickly followed it up by launching a couple of chops at Bishop’s chest, which Bishop starts returning in earnest, as these two men now go back and forth with one another, launching chop after chop, which quickly escalates to straight up forearms as they continue to go back and forth. Dyln manages to get the better of Bishop by once again launching another headbut at him, before picking up a chair that had been left on the ring apron, and cracking Joshua Bishop over the head with it!

Bishop rolls to the outside, and Dyln sets the chair down and sets it up, before turning and hitting the ropes, using the chair as a launching pad to vault himself up and over the ropes, taking out Bishop on the outside with a Tope Con Hilo!

Dyln got back into the ring, just as Bishop got back to his feet, and grabbed the 2x4 wrapped in barbed wire that Josh Bishop had brought into the ring earlier. Bishop charges right at Dyln, but all it earns him is a barbed wire 2x4 to the gut! Bishop hunched over, clearly already in an extreme amount of pain, and already bleeding a bit as barbs sunk into his flesh! Dyln dropped the 2x4, and while Bishop was still hunched over, began digging in his pockets, pulling out a stack of Gusset Plates, before taking one and punching it into Bishop’s shoulder, causing Bishop to drop to a knee and let out a cry of agony. It was clear Dyln came here tonight to inflict damage, and that’s exactly what he looked to be doing here. Dyln grabbed another gusset and this time drove it into the forehead of Joshua Bishop, punching it in there and making sure it would be a bitch to try and get out.

Dyln stood Bishop up, and caught him with a chop to the chest, causing the big man to stagger back into the corner. Dyln chopped his chest again, before backing up to the opposite corner, charging Bishop, and nailing him with two leaping double knee strikes! Bishop dropped down to his knees from the impact, and Dyln rolled out of the ring, looking for more toys to use on Bishop. Dyln finds his skewers, and slides back in the ring, displaying Bishop against the ropes, before pounding the skewers into Joshua Bishop’s forehead! Dyln releases them, and allows them to fan out, before dragging Bishop off the ropes, and driving him down with a DDT! Dyln covers!

1…2… Kickout!

Bishop out at two. Dyln rolls out of the ring, and starts looking for even more plunder outside of it, looking for more weapons he could use here to help cause the maximum amount of damage tonight. Dyln found a pane of glass and dragged it out from under the ring, before grabbing the guardrail and pulling it closer, using the guardrail and the ring to hold up the pane of glass into a makeshift bridge. Dyln then rolled back into the ring.

Dyln watches as Bishop gets himself back up to his feet, before hitting the ropes and charging Bishop, who was leaning on the opposite set of ropes. As Dyln got to him though, Bishop dropped down and back body dropped Dyln over the top rope, causing Dyln to crash right through the pane of glass he’d just set on the apron! Glass and blood goes everywhere as Dyln crashes and burns on the outside! Dyln’s back was already filled with shards of broken glass, as he could do nothing but sit there and rive in absolute agony. Joshua Bishop uses the ropes to pull himself back up, and motions to Wes on the outside to grab him a door. Wes goes under the ring and retrieves one of the doors, sliding it into Josh, as Josh sets two chairs up, and then bridges the door between them. It was clear Josh had apparently had enough of Dyln Blaine tonight, and wanted to put this one to bed for good. Wes then goes over to the other side of the ring, and grabs Dyln, tossing Dyln back into the ring, and right at Josh’s feet. Bishop grabs Dyln, and picks him up, setting him up for the Bishop Bomb…

“EXIT 187! NO SURVI-..”

Just as Bishop was shouting to the crowd that this one was all over, Dyln manages to escape Bishop’s grasp, and nail Bishop with a low blow! Josh hunches over in pain, clutching at his bean bag, as Dyln gets up and charges the ropes, springing off them, and catching Bishop with the Rocket Strap! Dyln spikes him! That might be it! Josh Bishop has been unseated! Dyln hooks the leg!

1….2…. KICKOUT!

Bishop kicks out! Dyln throws his best shot, and it’s not enough to put down Joshua Bishop! Bishop rolls out of the ring to try and recover, but GenZ, specifically Lilith & Eric, are already setting up a door between two chairs, making a makeshift table, as Ophelia and Mikey go after a dazed Bishop. Bishop has enough wherewithal to knock Mikey away with an elbow, but gets caught with a boot from Ophelia, Bishop goes stumbling away, and into the propped up door, where he has to brace his hands on it to prevent himself from collapsing. Bishop manages to get up, but not before Dyln springs off the apron and catches him, dropping him with a HUGE Rocket Strap, from the apron to the floor, both Bishop and Dyln explode through the door on the floor! Holy shit!

GenZ works fast, Ophelia, Mikey, and Eric all struggle to get the MPW World Champion into the ring, as Lilith tries to will her young protege up to his feet, clutching the back of his neck and struggling to stand. Bishop gets rolled into the ring, as Dyln starts to climb up to the top rope, setting his feet, before launching himself off the top rope, crashing down onto Joshua Bishop with a HUGE 630 Senton! This one could be over right here! Dyln, to win the title!

1….2….Kickout!

What the hell is it going to take to get Josh Bishop’s shoulders to the mat here tonight?! Josh Bishop isn’t human!

Dyln, maybe out of options in a fair fight, instead decides he’s going to cheat his way to winning, shouting for the rest of GenZ to get into the ring and help him. Dyln directs traffic, as Mikey, Eric, and Ophelia beat Bishop down for a second, stomping him into the mat, before the three of them drag Bishop back to his feet, but a back elbow to Mikey knocks him out of the ring, and a lariat to Eric gets rid of him. Ophelia tries to nail Bishop with another boot, but Bishop catches it, and drops her with a clothesline! Dyln tries to stop Bishop, springing off the ropes, but Bishop catches him in mid air, spins him around, and plants Dyln with a big Black Hole Slam!

Dyln gets put into the mat, and Bishop wastes zero time, picking up Dyln and hoisting him high into the air, before driving Dyln down with the Bishop Bomb! Dyln gets put through the mat, Bishop folds him up! Cover!

1…2…3!

“Here is your winner, and STILL MPW World Champion, Joshua Bishop!”

Referee Tom Dunn retrieves the belt, and for the first time in months, our MPW World Champion is reunited with his prize, Josh Bishop is once again in possession of the MPW World Championship belt! Dyln Blaine was very game tonight, coming very close to unseating the champ, but Josh Bishop has retained, and has set himself up for a meeting with Jon Moxley at Darkness Falls!

Goodnight, folks. Happy Mania Weekend!

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the-firebird69 · 6 months

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There's a few things going on this guy has brought in a model of the capsule that they used to test out now to make this the capsule and they did launch it several times retrieved it launched it again and it survived and it's one of the capsules they intend to blast the sun off into space with and we don't want them to do that and they sell such a stupid stuff but he's not really into it and we're not either they want this Cheyenne complex they're going to fight hard over and we don't want them there the other reason is Apollo is saying something 11 is what he's saying and I guess we're missing Judas usually that's the case and keep saying is selling them out for money and it's giving information to the max it's not he is not he's giving it to Biden and Brian is paying him and it's really harmless but we looked at it it's very negative stuff and Biden doesn't really react but he looks at what he's saying and why and it helps there's some things happening here the Max will figure out these guys have a system and they're using it on them and it's about conquest and things like that then they also figured out that losers and they're attacking first and that's more important and they are going to get their asses handed to them tonight they intend on attacking the remainder of the suit of empire in the eastern hemisphere and taking up residence and bunkers that are adjacent to the Mac bunkers Matt caverns below there are several military actions that are coming up in the next couple weeks a few weeks that are going to trigger attempts to take those caverns the warlock will start to disintegrating very fast. The clans had information on it and people are holding that information and this guy has some of it and he needs to look at more of it and his son suggested and daughter did they go to West point and it leads to A few Good Men but they need to see that too it should be terrifying to them and it's not and it's horrific.

Thor Freya

It was me saying hello with the eagle and it looks almost like that he says no he's kind of facing me looking down it's probably Hera messing with me. I understand that I'm just out of the family this side of the family. It's a little rough that's why I like this. You get the right it was Tommy over there he saw the right angle that makes a lot of sense zigzag is laughing very loudly both of them I think or at least he is that's zig and she says no I'm laughing loudly too you're a funny little boy and he says I'm taller than everybody. You know that I can't wait and here is Odin the great one take two and their son says you can't say the great one and things like that without him laughing so and he might take a little kid because he's got so much mass and volume being huge he says that's probably Ajax and got his wife and it is and were Norwegian I'm still a goddess. And people would say that she's beautiful and he would tackle her say quickly we have to get out of here and get into their gigantic suburban wondering if a dog went under the wheels would be small those tires would be small seven feet high he says that's not really small and it would not be small and be about right for just a regular car and it looks like a golf cart seriously he's going to be a very big boy it's always complaining I am not big I don't feel good let me know you're a baby and you'll be fine so babies have resiliency it's true when you kind of smells and people noticed it he says Angels smell like diapers and body odor put that out there so John remillard said these baby Giants stink and I mean it they smell like body odor so there's a whole bunch of these corks who are nervous is the idiot start looking at them and it started fights Zag and that was her and that's just what I like right to the Bone and he says and really there's a lot going on tonight so we're going to publish and get to it and what a design we've got this design out there it's really nice and slide the angle into these cast pieces and you can even make them up and use welding and it's like a jig you don't need jigs and people can do them as kits at home and it's a lot safer

We're going to do that this is a great idea

Thor Freya

Olympus

Good

Hera

Zues

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boricuacherry-blog · 6 months

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"Oh, mon Dieu, Jesus!" said her mother, "there are so many witches nowadays that I dare say they burn them without knowing their names. One might as well seek the names of every cloud in the sky. After all, one may be tranquil. The good God keeps his register."

The Place du Parvis Notre-Dame, upon which the balcony looked, presented at that moment a singular and sinister spectacle which caused the fright.

"Is it true she has refused a confessor?"

"It appears so."

"You see what a pagan she is!"

At that moment, midday rang slowly out from the clock of Notre-Dame. A murmur of satisfaction broke out in the crowd. The last vibration of the twelfth stroke had hardly died away when all heads surged like the waves beneath a squall, and an immense shout went up from the pavement, the windows, and the roofs.

"There she is!"

A tumbrel drawn by a stout Norman horse, and all surrounded by cavalry in violet livery with white crosses, had just debouched upon the Place through the Rue Saint-Pierre-aux-Boeufs. The sergeants of the watch were clearing a passage for it through the crowd, by stout blows from their clubs. Beside the cart rode several officers of justice and police, recognizable by their black costume and their awkwardness in the saddle. Master Jacques Charmolue paraded at their head.

In the fatal cart sat a young girl with her arms tied behind her back, and with no priest beside her. She was in her shift; her long black hair (the fashion then was to cut it off only at the foot of the gallows) fell in disorder upon her half-bared throat and shoulders.

Athwart that waving hair, more glossy than the plumage of a raven, a thick, rough, gray rope was visible, twisted and knotted, chafing her delicate collar-bones and twining round the charming neck of the poor girl, like an earthworm round a flower. Beneath that rope glittered a tiny amulet ornamented with bits of green glass, which had been left to her no doubt, because nothing is refused to those who are about to die. The spectators in the windows could see in the bottom of the cart her naked legs which she strove to hide beneath her, as by a final feminine instinct. At her feet lay a little goat, bound. The condemned girl held together with her teeth her imperfectly fastened shift. One would have said that she suffered still more in her misery from being thus exposed almost naked to the eyes of all. It was la Esmeralda.

The tumbrel had entered the Parvis. It halted before the central portal. The escort ranged themselves in line on both sides and the two leaves of the grand door swung back on their hinges, which gave a creak like the sound of a fife. Then there became visible in all its length, the deep, gloomy church, hung in black, sparely lighted with a few candles gleaming afar off on the principal altar, opened in the midst of the Place which was dazzling with light, like the mouth of a cavern. At the very extremity, in the gloom of the apse, a gigantic silver cross was visible against a black drapery which hung from the vault to the pavement. The whole nave was deserted. But a few heads of priests could be seen moving confusedly in the distant choir stalls, and, at the moment when the great door opened, there escaped from the church a loud, solemn, and monotonous chanting, which cast over the head of the condemned girl, in gusts, fragments of melancholy psalms -

"He that heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent me, hath eternal life, and hath not come into condemnation, but is passed from death to life."

This chant, which a few old men buried in the gloom sang from afar over that beautiful creature, was the mass for the dead. The people listened devoutly.

They untied her hands, made her alight, accompanied by her goat, which had also been unbound, and which bleated with joy at finding itself free, and they made her walk barefoot on the hard pavement to the foot of the steps leading to the door. The rope about her neck trailed behind her. One would have said it was a serpent following her.

Then the chanting in the church ceased. A great golden cross and row of wax candles began to move through the gloom. A long procession of priests in chasubles and deacons in dalmatics marched gravely towards the condemned girl, as they drawled their song.

At the moment when the archdeacon made his appearance in the full daylight beneath the lofty arched portal, enveloped in an ample cope of silver barred with a black cross, he was so pale that more than one person in the crowd thought that one of the marble bishops who knelt on the sepulchral stones of the choir had risen and was come to receive upon the brink of the tomb, the woman who was about to die.

The archdeacon approached her slowly; even in that extremity, she beheld him cast an eye sparkling with sensuality, jealousy, and desire, over her exposed form. Then he said aloud -

"Young girl, have you asked God's pardon for your faults and shortcomings?"

He bent down to her ear, and added (the spectators supposed that he was receiving her last confession): "Will you have me? I can still save you!"

She looked intently at him: "Begone, demon, or I will denounce you!"

He gave vent to a horrible smile: "You will not be believed. You will only add a scandal to a crime. Reply quickly! Will you have me?"

"What have you done with my Phoebus?"

"He is dead!" said the priest. He staggered, passed his hand across his eyes, looked again, muttered a curse, and all his features were violently contorted.

"Well, die then!" he hissed between his teeth. "No one shall have you." Then, raising his hand over the gypsy, he exclaimed in Latin, in a funereal voice -

"Go now, soul, trembling in the balance, and God have mercy upon thee."

This was the dread formula with which it was the custom to conclude these gloomy ceremonies. It was the signal agreed upon between the priest and the executioner.

No one had yet observed in the gallery of the statues of the kings, carved directly above the arches of the portal, a strange spectator, who had, up to that time, observed everything with such impassiveness, with a neck so strained, a visage so hideous that, in his motley accoutrement of red and violet, he might have been taken for one of those stone monsters through whose mouths the long gutters of the cathedral have discharged their waters for six hundred years. This spectator had missed nothing that had taken place since midday in front of the portal of Notre-Dame. And at the very beginning he had securely fastened to one of the small columns a large knotted rope, one end of which trailed on the flight of steps below. This being done, he began to look on tranquilly, whistling from time to time when a blackbird flitted past. Suddenly, at the moment when the superintendent's assistants were preparing to execute Charmolue's order, he threw his leg over the balustrade of the gallery, seized the rope with his feet, his knees and his hands; then he was seen to glide down the facade, as a drop of rain slips down a windowpane, rush to the two executioners with the swiftness of a cat which has fallen from a roof, knock them down with two enormous fists, pick up the gypsy with one hand, as a child would her doll, and dash back into the church with a single bound.

He held the young girl, who was quivering all over, suspended from his horny hands like a white drapery; but he carried her with as much care as though he feared to break her. One would have said that he felt that she was a delicate, exquisite, precious thing, made for other hands than his. There were moments when he looked as if not daring to touch her, even with his breath. Then, all at once, he would press her forcibly in his arms, against his angular bosom, like his own possession, his treasure, as the mother of that child would have done. His gnome's eye, fastened upon her, inundated her with tenderness, sadness, and pity.

At that moment, Quasimodo had a beauty of his own. He, that orphan, that outcast, felt himself august and strong, and gazed in the face of that society from which he was banished, and in which he had so powerfully intervened, of that human justice of which he had wrenched its prey, of all those tigers whose jaws were forced to remain empty, of those policemen, those judges, those executioners, of all that force of the king which he, the meanest of creatures, had just broken, with the force of God.

#the hunchback of notre dame #book quotes #victor hugo

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abbyindenhaag · 1 year

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the good things in life are sometimes expensive (oops)

Okay SO today (Wednesday) was admittedly a splurge day but it was very worth it.

Event One: two-hour privately-guided horseback ride in Hyde Park. This was a mix of instructional and fun and was exactly what I wanted. I will admit that part of the motivation was wanting to ride a horse in “Rotten Row” which is where fancy people in I want to say the 1800s went to ride socially, at least according to Books (of the fictional variety). Kind of astonishingly, Rotten Row still exists, but minus the chaperones, top hats, and sidesaddles. And invitations to balls from young men for whom young ladies are secretly yearning.

ANYWAY, that was part of the motivation, but it was not all (or even mostly) cosplaying fancy English people from a bygone and deeply unequal era! I also just like riding horses, especially in a fun place with lots to see. And I was doubly happy to get some instruction because it has been about 15 years since anybody has corrected my horseback riding and every year or so when I do my Intermittently-Semi-Demi-Annual Trail Ride With Mom I have the vague feeling I am embarrassing myself and earning the scorn and contempt of my horse, plus sometimes there is a young Horse Lady who suggests I “change diagonals” and I remember that I still don’t know how to figure out which one I am on. We didn’t do any arena work this time so I still don’t know about diagonals, but Millie my guide was super amiable and also had several helpful suggestions about gripping the reins tightly (I kept messing this up), keeping my elbows tucked in and pulled back, tucking my heels under the horse’s belly and sitting back further in the saddle, which all helped a bunch. I could definitely get into horseback riding (again?) if given sufficient time and money; I loved how it is kind of a whole-body experience that requires obsessive attention to technique and completely occupies my mind the whole time. And it’s just exciting to be atop a honking big creature.

Another fun thing about the horse ride was that because of the upcoming coronation there were lots of Professional Horse People (e.g. Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment) training in Hyde Park. Millie was very excited to see the “Drum Horses”, who were giant Shetlands who apparently will have the job of hoisting gigantic drums that their riders will play during the ceremonies (talk about honking big creatures...). We also saw army-type men doing arena work and a convoy of 4 horses who looked like they were practicing for a parade, in addition to a couple of miscellaneous police-types who just looked like they were on patrol or warming up. These men were all mounted on much finer horses, which Millie and I admired for their lighter feet and friskier air. (We were seated on relatively sturdier Irish Cobs.) I tried to ask why all the riding stable staff and students I have ever met are women, while mounted police and honor guards are inevitably men, but didn’t ask it well and didn’t really get an answer. I suppose to be in the police/cavalry you have to be interested in combat-type stuff as well as ceremonial horse dancing, and riding schools are a form of teaching so that gets female-coded, but I still don’t really understand where the male horse police come from. Maybe there are just so few positions that even though men make up an infinitesimal share of riding students, there are still enough people to fill the roles. ANYWAY II, this was a fun time, right up there with the Icelandic ponies and tolt-ing on the beach, so A++ would definitely ride again.

Fun Event Two requires less elaboration, but we went to Afternoon Tea at a nearby hotel and it was just what the doctor (my stomach, after a light breakfast and two hours of riding) ordered. Actually I didn’t like the desserts at all, but luckily since Bart was uninterested in the sandwiches I was quite full by the time they came around. And he was mainly there for the tea and the scones, so it all worked out, Jack Sprat-style. Nobody cares, but the savory dishes were, from worst (not that bad but wasn’t in the mood) to best (wow I want to be able to order this at will): salmon and dill cream sandwiches, effectively-egg-salad on brioche, coronation chicken sandwich (in other places this is called curried chicken but I am calling it by its silly name because I recently learned that Elizabeth commissioned it as the official Dish of her Coronation, why is that a thing), and lemon-asparagus-caviar quiche. I kept dropping the caviar all over my lap so it was a good thing we were tucked away in a corner where I couldn’t embarrass us. However this did result in my nibbling the dropped caviar from my fingers and I learned it barely had any flavor and didn’t contribute to the taste of the dish, which made me wonder: why bother?

Bart is currently at his own Big Splurge, which is a Liverpool-West Ham match, and I am very excited for him and hope he has a good time.

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princeofgod-2021 · 1 year

Text

LIGHT OF LIFE 305

John 1:4

UNITY OF THE BODY 8 – SATAN’S FLAW (PRIDE) 3

Eph 4:2-3 ALWAYS BE HUMBEL AND GENTLE. Be patient with each other, MAKING ALLOWANCE FOR EACH OTHER’S FAULTS because of your love. MAKE EVERY EFFORT TO KEEP YOURSELVES UNITED, BINDING YOURSELVES TOGETHER WITH PEACE. GW

Was the impact of satan’s pride more against God’s honour or more against the Unity of the Body?

Isn’t it simpler to conclude that God hates the proud just because they always take His glory and really nothing to do with the Unity of the body?

Let’s check out King Nebuchadnezzar for some insights, okay?

Dan 4:30-31 The king uttered these words: “IS THIS NOT THE GREAT BABYLON THAT I HAVE BUILT FOR A ROYAL RESIDENCE BY MY OWN MIGHTY STRENGTH AND FOR MY MAJESTIC HONOR?” While these words were still on the king’s lips, a voice came down from heaven: “It is hereby announced to you, King Nebuchadnezzar, that YOUR KINGDOM HAS BEEN REMOVED FROM YOU! NET

That judgment on the King shows that he was sentenced because he “took God’s Glory for himself”, right?

But you must see that earlier in the chapter (a year ago (Vs29)), before he proclaimed his “Pride”, this judgement had already been determined and it only took effect at his Proud utterance here.

Dan 4:25,27 that you will be FORCED TO LIVE WITH THE WILD ANIMALS, far away from humans. You will eat grass like a wild animal and live outdoors for seven years, until you learn that GOD MOST HIGH CONTROLS ALL EARTHLY KINGDOMS AND CHOOSES THEIR RULERS… Your Majesty, please be willing to do what I say. Turn from your sins and start living right; have mercy on those who are mistreated. Then all will go well with you for a long time. CEV

Therefore, the Kings proud declaration was not the initiator of his sentence.

What was it please?

Dan 3:1,6 KING NEBUCHADNEZZAR HAD A GOLD STATUE MADE, ninety feet high and nine feet wide, and he had it set up in the plain of Dura in the province of Babylon…ANYONE WHO DOES NOT BOW DOWN AND WORSHIP WILL IMMEDIATELY BE THROWN INTO A BLAZING FURNACE." GNB

He made a gigantic statue, and made people worship it.

The image must have been a representation of himself and the reason is not farfetched: he’d recently been told by Daniel that he was a “great” King.

Dan 2:37-38 YOU, O KING, ARE A KING OF KINGS. FOR THE GOD OF HEAVEN HAS GIVEN YOU A KINGDOM, POWER, AND STRENGTH, AND GLORY. And wherever the sons of men, the beasts of the field, and the birds of the heavens live, He has given them into your hand, and has made you ruler over them all. YOU ARE THIS HEAD OF GOLD. MKJV

You see, in Nebuchadnezzar’s mind, he had come to know that God made him what he is, so he wasn’t contending with God or for God’s position, but rather wanted his own position fully acknowledged and to be worshipped by men, whom he thought were “much lower” than he.

This is just like satan, who knew he couldn’t get God’s place but wanted his own space and worshippers.

Did you get that?

Dan 4:17 This is the DECISION OF THE ALERT AND WATCHFUL ANGELS. So then, LET ALL PEOPLE EVERYWHERE KNOW THAT THE SUPREME GOD HAS POWER OVER HUMAN KINGDOMS AND THAT HE CAN GIVE THEM TO ANYONE HE CHOOSES—EVEN TO THOSE WHO ARE LEAST IMPORTANT.' GNB

So, the sentence is to teach all humanity, that God may give you position over other men but He is the one yet ruling all, not you.

Also, he will set up leaders who don’t see themselves as “above others”.

1Sa 15:17 Samuel said, “IS IT NOT TRUE THAT WHEN YOU WERE INSIGNIFICANT IN YOUR OWN EYES, YOU BECAME HEAD OF THE TRIBES OF ISRAEL? THE LORD CHOSE YOU AS KING OVER ISRAEL. NET

Beloved, Nebu’s real sin was making slaves of people, forcing them to worship him and even trying to kill those who didn’t bow to his “madness”.

His real offense was about how he treated people.

Dan 3:18-19 But even if he doesn't, we still won't worship your gods and the gold statue you have set up." NEBUCHADNEZZAR'S FACE TWISTED WITH ANGER AT THE THREE MEN. AND HE ORDERED THE FURNACE TO BE HEATED SEVEN TIMES HOTTER THAN USUAL. CEV

To buttress this point further, let’s look at King Herod too and ask the same question: was he killed, more because he took God’s glory or because he affected people and the Unity of the body?

Act 12:22-23 The people started shouting, "The voice of a god and not of a man!" IMMEDIATELY, AN ANGEL FROM THE LORD KILLED HEROD FOR NOT GIVING GLORY TO GOD. HEROD WAS EATEN BY MAGGOTS, AND HE DIED. GW

Again, this clearly shows that Herod was killed because he didn’t give glory to God, right?

But just like Nebu’s case, you have to look again at what he did wrong, close to the time of his death sentence.

Act 12:1-3 ABOUT THIS TIME King Herod began to persecute some members of the church. HE HAD JAMES, THE BROTHER OF JOHN, PUT TO DEATH BY THE SWORD. WHEN HE SAW THAT THIS PLEASED THE JEWS, HE WENT AHEAD AND HAD PETER ARRESTED. (This happened during the time of the Festival of Unleavened Bread.) GNB

Herod suddenly took on a mission to scatter the Church by killing the “key” personnel of God’s “army”.

His father was the Herod who tried to kill Jesus by killing all 2-year-old males in Judea much earlier back.

Mat 2:16 Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, was very angry; and he sent out, and put to death all the male children in Beth-lehem and in all the parts round about it, from two years old and under, acting on the knowledge which he had got with care from the wise men. BBE

He also died, not long after he did this wicked act to innocent children, just to preserve a fading kingdom.

I have seen from all these, that God merely “orchestrates” the act of “taking His Glory” as reason for dealing with these wicked people.

Their main sins have always been how they treat other people and divide the body with confusion.

Do you think people actually don’t take God’s Glory every day?

Mat 23:6-7 They crave the SEATS OF HIGHEST HONOR at banquets and in their meeting places. And how THEY LOVE TO BE ADMIRED BY MEN WITH THEIR TITLES OF RESPECT, ASPIRING TO BE RECOGNIZED IN PUBLIC AND HAVE OTHERS CALL THEM ‘REVEREND.’ TPT

Too many would have died by now if God reacted to taking His Glory.

It is the wickedness against humanity, behind those proud acts, that commonly initiates God’s sentence against the proud.

May God not find Pride in us, and may we not be guilty of offending the body of Christ, in Jesus name.

Join us on Wednesday for more digging in as we proceed with this enlightening subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Monday, January 23, 2022

08055125517; 08023904307

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

Arrow write the mickey spotting ian and kev fic challenge!

Had to do this while it was still topical lol, so here goes.

The first time was an accident. Well, sort of.

"Ian can help with that," Mickey offered, watching Kev struggle to shift kegs and pour drinks at the same time.

"Thanks man," Kev grunted, hoisting another keg. He waddled with it along the length of the bar, body hidden behind the counter, and set it down with a heavy thunk.

"Not easy though," he added as he straightened. "Don't wanna make him strain somethin' before your wedding."

He waggled his eyebrows at Mickey, tongue stuck out, and Mickey rolled his eyes.

He knew exactly what would come next.

"You think I can't lift a keg?" Ian asked from the stool next him. His voice almost broke on the last word with sheer disbelief. "I'm not some skinny kid anymore, Kev, I just got out of prison for fuck's sake!"

"Cause there were plenty of kegs there to lift," Mickey muttered into his beer, and almost sent it splashing over the old stained countertop when Ian shoved his shoulder too hard.

"Just point me where you need me," Ian told Kev, puffing out his chest.

Kev eyed Ian, then Mickey, then Ian again. But ultimately, he shrugged, and tapped the top of the keg he had just put down.

"Uh, this guy here needs to go out back," he said. "Brought in the wrong one."

"On it," Ian said, and made his way to it. He bent over at the waist, his hands reaching for the handles, ass stuck out in his too-tight jeans.

Mickey tilted his head, and sipped his drink, admiring the view.

"Whoa, whoa, not like that!" Kev said from behind the bar, arms out. "You're gonna hurt yourself, man."

"Then how," Ian forced out between gritted teeth, still leaning over, "would you suggest I do this?"

Kev came around, whacked Ian in the back until he let go and straightened with a huff. Then he took up position at another keg alongside the first.

"Lift with your legs, kid," he said, and dropped into a half squat right in front of Mickey's face.

Oh.

"Like this?" Ian relented, assuming position next to Kev, broad back stretched and straight over bent legs and strong thighs.

Oh.

Kev and Ian each hoisted their kegs, beginning their awkward walk away toward the back, and Mickey leaned so far back on his stool he almost fell off.

Well, he thought as he downed the last of his drink, eyes following two ridiculously built sets of shoulders strain their way across the room.

He could get used to seeing that.

---

The second time, it was definitely on purpose. He had talked Ian into trying out KevFit after his own misadventure--he was not eager to keep working out on his own, but Ian kept wanting to do new shit together.

They were only one round in at the keg lift station, Ian already grunting and heaving and sweaty next to him, when Kev came by.

"Good form, Ian," he congratulated, clapping a hand on his shoulder hard enough to make him drop the half-filled keg with a clatter. "Way better than last time."

"Gee, thanks," Ian answered dryly, wiping his forehead with the hem of his thin workout tank, and Mickey had an epiphany.

"Hey, Kev," he said slowly, like the idea was just occurring to him, "You got all this equipment rigged up, but how are you on basics?"

Kev's brow furrowed, his muscled arms going slack at his sides.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean like, pushups and jogging and shit," Mickey answered. "You know, the kind of stuff they do in the military."

He let his eyes widen, and turned them on Ian.

"Oh wait," he said, "that's kinda your thing, ain't it?"

Ian shrugged, looking confused.

"Uh, I guess?"

"Why don't you show Kev one of your old workouts?" Mickey suggested innocently. "He could add some things to the whole KevFit routine, maybe bring in more clients."

Kev perked up at that.

"Yeah, why not?" he said. "C'mon Ian, show me what you've got."

Five minutes later, Mickey was leaning against the "spring water" station, sipping from the flask he had snuck in from next door, watching two ridiculously tall, ridiculously strong fuckers take up half the open floor space doing increasingly impressive pushups. Right then, Ian had one arm behind his sweat-slicked back, Kev mirroring his form, and Mickey's eyes followed the rise and fall of their bodies with total focus.

"Excuse me," a wimpy, hipster-sounding dude said hesitantly from behind him, " but do you know when they're bringing out more waters?"

Mickey didn't even bother to look.

"Get lost," he answered, waving a hand in the guy's general direction. "Go drink outa the bathroom sink like a normal fucking person and let me watch my show."

---

The third time, he was pretty sure Ian was catching on.

Not that he cared, honestly--the view was fucking worth it.

"You call that a bench press?" He goaded his husband from behind the bench. "Kev's kickin' your ass, man, that's just embarassing."

Ian glowered, breath hissing out between his teeth as he pushed up again.

"I'm pretty much pressing you right now," he gritted out, "so I'm feeling pretty good about it, actually."

Mickey hid his grin behind a hand, feigning disinterest even as his eyes followed Ian's bulging arms up and down, lingering on the tight plane of his chest.

"Well he's pressing like two of me," Mickey countered, letting his eyes wander, "so you might wanna step it up, tough guy."

Sure enough, Kev's current weights were at least half again what Ian had, and he was doing an admirable job of lifting them considering that his gigantic self was too big for the bench. Mickey hadn't considered that when he invited Kev to check out the gym at their new place; it was designed for recreational exercise, not fucking seven foot tall body builders. The man's legs stretched out awkwardly off the bottom of the bench, knees bent but stuck up far too high for proper form. His broad shoulders dwarfed the other end, making it look like his upper body was just suspended there.

Mickey licked his lips, watching the shift of muscles under Kev's tanned skin--thank the lord the man shared his aversion to sleeves--and almost got chinned when he leaned too far over Ian's station.

The bar slotted into place without his help, Ian sitting up and wiping his face with a hand.

"Why don't you spot him for a while, then," Ian said. "While I go hit the shower."

He stood, making his way to the door, and Mickey paused, torn.

"Or I could give you a practical demonstration of my ability to lift you," Ian added over his shoulder, and Mickey was making his excuses to their guest and chasing after him before Kev could even finish another rep.

---

Ian never brought it up, after that, but Mickey still decided to cool it, just a little. Ian had seemed a little jealous, at the gym, although you'd never have known it by the things he said later--bet you like it when people look like they can throw you around, Mick--and Mickey did not need to throw a wrench into their marriage just for a little extra eye candy.

But then they were all at the pool together, the Gallaghers plus Mickey, plus Tami, plus Kev and Vee, and he really couldn't help it.

"Damn our men are hot," Tami had commented, sitting in a white plastic chair next to Mickey.

Mickey leaned back with a grin, taking a swig of lukewarm beer, and said, "You think that's hot?" nodding to where Ian and Lip were splashing each other over Franny's head in the shallow end.

"Watch this," he finished, and cupped a hand over his mouth to help his voice carry.

"Hey Ian," he shouted. "Bet Kev could beat you in a race."

"Hell yeah!" Kev called back from where he was manning the grill. "Name the time, man!"

Mickey could see Ian roll his eyes, and worried for the briefest of moments that his husband was done humoring him. But after a brief, hushed word with his brother, Ian was swimming to the side of the pool nearest Kev, saying "right now, backstroke, three laps," and Mickey was falling in love all over again.

"You do this a lot?" Tami asked, amused, as Kev stripped off his shirt and jumped in to take his place at the wall of the pool.

Mickey waited until they were off, arms wheeling wildly through the water and sending the sparkling spray onto sculpted, heaving chests, to answer.

"Define a lot," he said, not looking away from the spectacle as Ian and Kev hit the wall and turned, their swimsuits flashing through the water.

Tami snickered.

"Got it," she said, then, "thanks for sharing the wealth."

The race finished, Ian and Kev lifting themselves out of the pool, water running down their bodies as they clasped hands and went in for a shoulder-slapping bro hug. Ian looked back to where Mickey sat, and smirked.

"No problem," Mickey murmured, watching closely.

Ian leaned up to say something into Kev's ear, and Mickey squinted, like that would somehow help him hear it.

"Ogling the competition, Milkovich?" Lip's voice came from behind, and Mickey nearly fell out of his chair.

"The fuck are you talkin about?" he demanded, twisting around in his chair to look at Lip's knowing smirk.

"Nothing," Lip answered innocently. "Just noticed you've been watching Kev a lot lately."

Mickey scowled.

"And what's it to you?" he challenged. "Nothing at all," Lip said. "Just an observation." His grin widened. "And a distraction."

Mickey's eyes narrowed.

"A distraction from wha--argh!"

He cut off as he was lifted by two pairs of string arms, familiar ones wrapped under his own and different, strong hands holding his feet. He flailed, barely registering the flash of green eyes and a mostly bald head, before he hit the water with a splash.

By the time he surfaced, snorting chlorinated pool water out of his nose, it was to see two grinning faces looking down at him.

"Thought you might need to cool off after watching us," Ian said with a grin, laughing when Mickey tried to splash water into his face.

"Next time you want a show," Kev added, "just ask, man." He waggled his eyebrows. "I learned a few things when I worked that gay club."

Ian laughed again at Mickey's shocked expression.

"You need to work on your poker face, Mick," he said. "But it's okay, we don't mind."

He winked, then turned to walk away, leaving Mickey floating in the pool. Kev left with him, hips swaying slightly, and Mickey bit his lip and watched them go.

"Really?" Lip asked from the side of the pool, sounding disgusted, and Mickey just shrugged without looking back.

After all, if they didn't mind...

#daily speedwrite #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fanfic #kev ball #silly and random

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theladyismyshepard · 3 years

Note

2 of prompt hope? The brunette Cassandra has a maiden for a pet for now, But another maiden is in love with her?? inspired by robyn dancing on my own. Angst? Good ending or however you end it?

I love that song 😍 I totally got you, my friend, thank you for the prompt!

Warning: sex, blood, violence, honestly, 18+ only

So Far Away, But Still So Near

There were three things that were common knowledge to those who lasted more than a few weeks as a maid within Castle Dimitrescu (there weren’t many familiar faces however).

One was that the hallways of the castle echoed with the wails of the dying, and it was to be none of their business to be snooping into... There was a maid who panicked when she heard screaming for the first time, and it wasn’t moments later that hers mixed melodically with the next.

Second, a maid is not allowed to make a single mistake in their duties, or in the presence of the Dimitrescu family. The maid who made the mistake of opening up the curtains a mere peek was dragged down to the cellar, never to be seen again.

And lastly... you were the only maiden allowed to live a trapped life above the cellar where men and young women stuttered out their last breathes before becoming a constant drip that always sent you to your initial awakening inside a cage that was seeping blood from every corner.

When you had blinked slowly, allowing your eyes time to adjust to lantern light, you caught sight of a smile so twisted, you couldn’t say for sure it wasn’t a frown. There was blood that painted those lips, red and shining in the dancing light. Golden eyes glowed as they bore into you with such intensity, you thought for sure she would eat you alive.

Brown hair cascaded down to her chest, and it was wild and untamed. If she looked as unkempt as she was, you briefly wondered how bad your appearance must look, subconsciously reaching up to run your fingers through greasy locks of hair, grimacing when they snagged on a tangle.

You became acutely aware that your clothes had been changed for you. Gone were your regular clothes, and in their place was nothing more than a silk nightgown, even your underwear had been stolen right off your body. You felt exposed under her gaze.

“You smell irresistible,” she whispered, her fingers tight around the bars of your cage.

Fear plagued you, prompting your heart to stutter in your chest. It brought a laugh from the brunette, and a shiver went through you that you couldn’t fully comprehend. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly smirked, teeth on display. Some looked sharp enough to kill... the teeth of a predator.

“You’re quite a beauty, aren’t you?” she drawled lecherously, her eyes roaming your nearly exposed body.

“Have you seen yourself?” you went for flattery at this point, and you knew you chose the right route when her face went slack for a moment before bursting out into a laugh.

“And a charmer, too?”

The door to your cage opened, her eyes never leaving you. She slowly swayed her hips alluringly with every step she took towards you, her smirk unwavering. She had you cornered and fearful as she stood over you, a sickle in hand. What was she planning to do?

You felt a sharp stinging as you felt your flesh tear suddenly. The cool touch of metal pressed against the cut on your lower thigh, and you grimaced when you felt grime dig into your skin. Blood coated the blade of her sickle, and she withdrew before bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, and she slowly dragged her tongue along the length of the blade, her eyes staring into yours.

“By far my favorite delicacy,” she moaned, her eyes darkening to nearly black.

You had felt something stirring in the pit of your stomach as warmth flooded your core at the sound that came from her mouth. She sniffed audibly, an eyebrow arched in interest at your reaction.

“My, oh my, you continue to intrigue me.” she turned her chin up, examining you in a way that felt as though she were looking down on you. “Here you are, trapped alone in blood and darkness and yet... I can smell your need.”

You felt a streak of defiance rush through your chest, but you bit your tongue, knowing you’d lose the war trying to win a battle. She had complimented you in a couple ways, but what she hasn’t shown appreciation for was your brain and wits.

“You intrigue me as well.” you admitted, confused by it.

The brunette chuckled wickedly, almost entertained, and you supposed it was in your favor to be capable of entertaining her. When her shoulders had stopped shaking and she ogled you once again, you hoped the gleam in her eye was a good thing.

“My name is Cassandra... I will give you time... and I will show you why that is a very bad idea.”

You blinked the memory away as you always did. That was nearly a year ago, and you would stride every day to prove your worth within the castle, knowing your virginity tethered you to a life of uncertainty as you lived among those who preyed on innocence.

To this day, you still didn’t know what kept you alive and working as a maid for the Dimitrescu family. You could tell Cassandra’s sisters weren’t overly thrilled with having something so tempting wandering within the walls, just within reach, and being unable to defile... What had you the most unsure was the tension between Cassandra and her gigantic mother.

Lady Dimitrescu would always inhale deeply when you leaned in to pour their wine during dinner. What keeps me alive? You couldn’t answer, and you weren’t sure who could. You had originally thought it was Cassandra’s influence and interest in you seeing as she had helped you out of the cellar, but she hardly looked at you when you waited on their every want and need.

The only thing you could say for her was that she didn’t snap at you like she violently did with the other maids, or even with her own sisters when one was pushed too far. She never said please or thank you, but her requests weren’t as sharp as they could be, which were few and far between.

What really had you thinking you were going crazy was the day you stood perfectly still by the far wall along with a couple other maids, unseen but at the ready should the family have a demand, and you heard Cassandra announce that she had a new pet in the cellar. The wild giggles from her sisters and the smirk from Alcina had a spring coiling tightly in your gut, and you could’ve sworn you were familiarized with the white-hot anger surging through your chest.

You couldn’t comprehend why you felt so flustered over Cassandra having someone else holding her attention. You could hardly call it “making you feel special”, but you could’ve sworn there was something about you that got you farther than most maidens who were unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped within the castle.

Your hand balled into a fist and you were subconsciously wearing a deep frown. You also didn’t catch the way multicolored eyes caught the look you were sporting or the triumphant smirk that followed. All you could do was stare at your feet and hope you didn’t bring attention to yourself, that’s all any of the maids did.

“Do not neglect your pet for too long, Cassandra.” said Alcina, dabbing her chin before she arose from the table.

“I’m going, mother,” promised Cassandra, bowing her head.

You watched as the Lady seemed to escort the entire room out of the dining area. Bela silently trailed behind her mother, hardly sparing any of the servants a glance on her way out. Daniela was still nibbling on a piece of something that you did not want to think about. Her eye met yours and she smiled toothily.

“Bye bye,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You shivered and she laughed as she walked out, and that only left Cassandra. She seemed to hypnotically sway her hips with each step she took as she followed her family. Your slight daze was broken by her throaty chuckle, and you already know you’ve been caught staring.

“Another time,” came her velvety voice, and you cursed your body for reacting before your brain could. Your eyes were glued to her ass the entire time she left.

It was quite pitiful really, how she could turn you to mush with words alone, all while her chin dribbled with blood from her fresh meal; and after she just spoke of her new plaything no less. What the fuck is wrong with me? What made it worse was that Cassandra was well aware of that fact.

What had you knowing you had gone crazy was when you couldn’t help the hatred you felt towards Cassandra’s new pet that seemed to be lingering around... since when did you start referring to living as lingering?

The pet always trailed after Cassandra, clinging to her side as if she were salvation. You remember a point in time where you thought she was your salvation. You passed them in the halls together, she was seated at Cassandra’s feet during “tea time” with the family, you could hear her moaning when you would passed by Cassandra’s room.

The wide, fearful eyes of the poor, young woman made you sick when they landed on you pleadingly. Oh how you wished to be in her place and yet here she was, afraid. You felt nothing over the tears that fell from her cheeks and landed on the bruises littering her bare thighs.

You felt like a monster.

Like what everything that could make you human had been burned away with hatred and negativity and darkness. It left you a hollow shell as you lost all sense of who you used to be. You felt chewed up and spit out and forced to work with what you had left.

Why were you still alive?

It was the same question bouncing in your head every day, yet you were no closer to finding the answer now, than you were the day before. At what point do you just give up? At what point do you just accept the desolate feeling gripping you until your final breath? Would death actually be a blessing over the lack of existence in Castle Dimitrescu?

That was the real question you had unfortunately began to live by. Your perfect touch to every duty assigned to you was slacking. It was imperceptible at first to all except Cassandra, but she bit her tongue, instead, choosing to keep her eyes glued to you every time you were in close proximity.

Your change in character went unnoticed until it became very obvious. Your rapid response became slower, almost outwardly showing how much you didn’t care to be there. Your attention to detail slipped as well as you started forgetting little things here and there during your duties.

Your steadiness shook when you served them, and wouldn’t you know it, your hand finally slipped one evening when you were pouring crimson tea into Daniela’s cup. The stream hit the lip of the cup and dripped onto her robe. You barely had time to register the shriek before something sharp slashed across your face, sending you to the floor.

All you could focus on was the stinging along your cheek and the bridge of your nose. You didn’t hear four different long inhales. You didn’t hear growling. You certainly didn’t hear Cassandra jerking Daniela’s arm until she faced her and the reverberating slap that followed.

“Never touch what isn’t yours!”

You did hear that shriek, and it had you finally looking up, taking in the scene. Blood was smeared all across your palm, and it was still flowing freely down your face, into your mouth, down your chin... You felt like you were served right on a platter for them.

You just felt a small sense of relief that Lady Dimitrescu’s narrowed eyes weren’t directed at you. They were mere slits and the frown lines showed her clear distaste. Her gaze was settled on Cassandra towering over Daniela’s shocked, still-seated form. Then the Lady’s gaze shifted to Cassandra’s pet, cowering away and watching the display with fright and confusion. It wasn’t long before her eyes were glued on you, leaving you glued to the floor.

“Cassandra,” her voice was eerily calm, but anyone with the sense of hearing could detect the cold fury hidden away. “You are only allowed one.”

Your eyes cut to Cassandra in time to see the dark rage swirling in hers, and you could see how feral she was becoming. You knew she was passed the point of rationality, there was no clear and coherent thought in her head... things were about to get sloppy and you were very afraid.

So afraid that it didn’t make a lick of sense when Cassandra took her silverware and lodged it straight into her pet’s chest. The sight of the young woman gurgling and choking on her own blood had you ensnared. You couldn’t look away, your eyes wide and unblinking in shock as she slumped and gasped and cried. You didn’t even feel the ones spilling down your cheeks.

“Do not ever touch my pet again.” warned Cassandra, hissing straight at her sister before turning to you. “Come... now!”

You scrambled, forcing your paralyzed joints to move. She was already stalking out of the room, dragging you by your wrist once you were on your feet. You apologized every time you tripped or stumbled, but silenced yourself when she snapped after the fifth time.

You weren’t sure what to feel after watching her kill her pet right in front of you. Cassandra was callous and a flat out sadist, she enjoyed working the screams from her victims, but she was acting purely deranged now. You wanted to ask where she was taking you, but common sense was telling you it was to her bedroom.

And you didn’t have time to catch up mentally before you were pulled through the doorway of her room and slammed against the door when she closed it. Cassandra’s tongue was immediately drawing a line from your chin all the way up to your forehead, cleaning a trail of blood and then some, leaving you a quivering mess.

She was moaning as she buried her face in your neck, her fangs piercing into your flesh. You yelped, your body jolting back against the door. She giggled madly, and it was your turn to moan out.

“Such a delicacy,” she whispered out before switching sides and biting into the other side.

You couldn’t help but shout again, even though you were prepared for it.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m just making sure they all know who is allowed to touch you.”

She returned to suckling greedily at your blood, but her hand was trailing up your shirt until she roughly cupped your breast, her thumb rubbing small circles around your nipple. You squirmed against the door, but gasped when she scooped you up and dropped you onto her bed, her eyes alight.

“You are only allowed to follow my orders now, you will not tend to my sisters any further.” demanded Cassandra, straddling your thighs and literally tearing the maid’s uniform from your body.

“Command me, Mistress,” you moaned out, finally allowing yourself to get into what was happening, and you were rewarded for your comment by lips crashing into yours, a tongue immediately forcing its way into your mouth.

One hand returned to massaging your breast, and her mouth placed open mouthed kisses along your throat and collarbone before finally reaching your nipple, where she latched on.

You gasped, your head throwing back and your eyes slamming closed as her tongue swirled around the pink bud, sucking as roughly as she did when she fed from you. You’ve been deprived for so long that all you could do was squirm as warmth spread through your gut and dripped slickly down your thigh.

Her other hand grew tired of kneading your other nipple, and found itself teasing down your pubic bone before rubbing the same circles her tongue was drawing around your nipple with her fingers around your clit.

“Cassandra!” You groaned, your hands in her hair, keeping her where she was.

She bit down, and if she drew blood, it was licked away before you could tell. The fingers that were rubbing you were soon dipping inside, your wetness aiding her in sliding in. It was driving you crazy with sensory overload, and your hands flew to the bedsheets, gripping them tightly in your fists.

She hooked your leg around her hip to make it easier to thrust her fingers deeper inside of you. Your breath stuttered in your chest as pressure built inside of you. It started in the pit of your stomach, but warmth was spreading all throughout your body now, and she gave a few final pumps, you were coming around her, calling out her name as your body tightened and released.

She didn’t have time to let you recover before she was climbing up your body, settling herself comfortably on your face. You happily went to work on her, your tongue lashing out and licking along her clit. You didn’t give yourself time to relish in her moans before you buried your tongue deep inside of her, altering between flattening it and flicking it hard along her walls.

You felt her trembling around your tongue and it had you feeling deeply satisfied. Cassandra panted as one hand gripped the headboard, using it to help her ride your face, the other was woven into your hair, keeping you in place as well.

For all the moans you pulled from her, she came silently down your chin before sliding off, falling back onto her side beside you, head propped up on her hand, staring down at you. Now she was relishing in watching you recover from your activities. As you came down from your high, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question.

“Why am I still alive?”

She blinked down at you, clearly not expecting that question, but she wasn’t snapping at you so you were good. She took on a thoughtful look before she smirked down at you, crawling back on top of you.

“You are still intrigued by me and fortunately for you, I am still intrigued by you.” She said in between kisses down your body.

She paused when she hovered over where you needed her most.

“I’ll warn you though... I lose interest fast.”

And continued to show just how interested she was in the now. Lucky you.

#bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters headcanons #lady dimitrescu's daughters #cassandra dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu’s daughters x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #prompt fill

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abigail anderson #abby fic #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfiction #ellie #ellie tlou #leah tlou #jordan tlou #owen moore #owen x mel #mel tlou #owen tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 3 years

Text

Adoration - Part 3

Summary: You are loosing your control and things are going bad...

Warnings: non, just fluff and feels

Pairing: Bucky x angel!reader

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who’s reading my story. Currently going through a tough time, so your kind words are making me indescribable happy. English is not my first language but I hope you will enjoy it anyways. :D

Part 1 and Part 2

Bucky didn’t sleep well this night. He lay down in his room and soon fell asleep but his nightmares were already waiting for him. He watched the Starks begging for their lives. A young and innocent man trying to get into his hotel room- scared for his life. Suddenly the surrounding changed and Bucky found himself standing in a meadow. The grasses were tickling his hands and he felt the sun shining on his back. „Bet you can’t catch me.“, sang a soft voice and Bucky looked for the source of the voice. He narrowed his eyes to a slit as he tried to focus on a person. Bucky saw a woman waving at him. Her long hair was blowing in the wind but he couldn’t see her face. Bucky knew this place. He has been here before. He started running towards the woman but she ran away, he heard her laughing. He almost reached her but suddenly she faded away. The sky darkened and an uneasy feeling settled in Bucky. „I can’t see you, I can’t feel you. Buck, where are you?“ The soft voice sounded desperate, almost like crying. „I’m here. I’m here.“, he screamed. The wind got stronger and he had problems standing. „I’m here.“, he whispered.

Bucky woke up soaked with sweat. The alarm let him know that he only slept for half an hours even though it felt like an eternity. His hands were hiding his face, trying to catch his breath. As his feet hit the ground he was greeted with coldness ensuring him that he was back to reality. He trotted to the red couch in the common room, hoping that you were right and that he can sleep on it without having nightmares.

You were laying on your bed, sleeping restlessly. You were back in heaven, surrounded by dozen of angels all observing you with interest. A man was chained in the middle. You squinted your eyes to try to identify his face but you couldn’t. „I can’t. I can’t do it. I love him.“, you said, dropping your sword. A loud voice was mocking you. „Love? We are angels. Archangels. We don’t love. We adore Him and only him. You know the consequences, (y/f/n).“. You nodded. A murmur went through the crowd. „You won’t be welcome here anymore. You will be a fallen. You will forget most of this and you will forget him.“, The voice is hard and unsympathetic. „I accept the consequences. Just… spare his life.“

You woke up, breathing hard. You didn’t dream, you remembered. Your head was aching tremendously and your throat was dry like the dessert. You decided to spend the night on the couch but you realized that it’s already preoccupied by a handsome man.

„I thought, you don’t dream?“, said Bucky, opening his eyes. „I don’t. I just remembered something from the past.“ He threw back the covers and patting on the couch to his left, indicating that you can sleep there too. „I don’t want to invade your personal space.“, you said. „I will just go back to my room.“

„Don’t be silly. C’mere. The couch is big enough for both of us.“ You grinned and lay down. „For an angel, you have really cold feet.“,

„Sorry.“ You snuggled into Bucky, definitely invading his personal space but calming down as soon as you smelled him. Bucky was your drug and you were addicted to him. „Do you want talk about what you dre… I meant, remembered?“, he asked, caressing your hair. „I remembered my trial. It was horrible.“ Your hand clutched on Bucky’s shirt. „What about you?“

Bucky looked outside the window „I can’t remember my dream.“ He lied.

The next morning, Bucky woke up from a dreamless sleep, only to find your hand clenched to his shirt. Sweat had formed on your forehead and your face was twisted in pain. „(Y/f/n).“, Bucky tried to wake you up. „(Y/f/n), wake up. Wake up!“, His voice got louder and more desperate. Steve stormed into the room. Bucky looked helpless as he shook you. „She isn’t waking up.“ He screamed

You began glowing, finally opening your eyes..

You fell on your knees, your long (y/h/c) hair were hiding your face. A small silver diadem was on your head. You didn’t wear your pajamas anymore, instead a long white, silvery dress

A long and heavy sword laid next to you. But the most intimidating thing were your wings. Bucky was shocked and perplexed. They were gigantic, reaching the ceiling and went from one side of the room to the other. The wings were white with small golden sprinkles but the tips were ebony. He had never seen something so beautiful. You pressed your hands on your face. „Something’s wrong. I can’t control it.“ You sobbed

Bucky walked slowly towards you and kneeled to look directly in your face.

He touched your cheeks softly in an attempt to calm you.

You couldn’t see Bucky anymore. Instead you were sitting on gras. Another person was there, but you couldn’t see his face, even thought he was so close. „It’s my last day here. Tomorrow I’m going to war.“ The voice sounded proud, but also extremely devastated. „I wish we had more time.“ You said. „We will. When I come back, I’ll never ever leave you again.“ He said, taking something out of his pocket. „If I could, I would marry you right away… You know that, don’t you? But I want to give you the wedding you deserve. I want to be the man you deserve. So, (y/f/n), I’m asking you to wait for me and I’ll promise to give you the life you deserve.“, The man said, opening his palm. A small thin ring was lying in it. It had a tiny stone in the middle. „It’s beautiful.“, You blushed. „I would wait an eternity to be with you.“ You kissed him softly.

The picture changed again. „Throw that pathetic ring away. You’re delusional and acting childish. Forget it. Forget him.“ You weren’t on earth anymore. You played with the ring every time you felt lonely which made your brothers and sisters aware of it. „I will.“ You answered the commanding voice. You took off the ring, but instead of throwing it away you morphed the ring into a small necklace. You put on the necklace and hid it beneath your dress's collar.

You blinked, finally gaining your control. Your hand searched for the small necklace on your neck. Relief went through your body as you found it. Slowly your sword and your wings disappeared. You leaned against Bucky’s broad chest as you looked like the girl minutes ago. „I’m loosing my mind, Buck.“, you mumbled and then being greeted by darkness as you passed out.

Bucky carried you to the couch and lay you softly down. „What happened?“, Nat and Steve looked expectantly in Bucky's direction but he just shook his head. „I… I have absolutely no idea.“

„Maybe I can help?“ Said a fancy voice. A woman stood in the entrance. She was tall with brown-chestnut hair that were put in a neat bun.

„My name is Rahel. I’m here for protection. I’m like her.“, She explained, nodding her head in your directions

„Do you know her?“ Bucky didn't trust her and he wouldn’t allow her to come any closer to you.

„Well not personally but she’s an icon. Her story is legend.

(Y/f/n) was one of the four most powerful archangels. She fought in every war, sometimes leading the soldiers. She was extremely powerful and kind. After the rebellion she started to visit earth more often to learn more about humans and humanity. And then on one mission she walked into this man. Well he was more of a boy back then.“ Rahel laughed like she was there when it happened. „It was love at first sight. She stayed on earth for months. But both were soldiers- she was needed in heaven and he was going to war as well. However, she always kept an eye on him. And when he was in a life-threatening situation she came to save him. She left her position to safe him. When other men came she thought he’d be safe but they were evil. They captured him and she was absolutely miserable. She tried to ease his pain with her powers but one day she decided to end this torture. So as he was fighting against ... well ... the good guys she made sure that those would recognize him and help him. And they did. The archangels were furious. She wasn’t just ignoring her war but she was also changing destiny. They burned out her memories of him and gave her two options. Kill him and stay in heaven or spare his life and fall.“

„So you know who he is?“ Steve was suspicious of this woman, not entirely trusting her either.

„Of course. Every angel does.“

„Tell us.“ Bucky commanded but she smiled smugly

"No. I can’t and I won’t. Forgetting him his her punishment. I can’t ignore the instruction.“

Rahel was slowly walking towards you. „I can feel her inner disunity. She is trying to remember but she won’t find more memories of him in her mind. They aren’t there anymore.“ She touched you on your forehead that made you wince. Bucky was rushing towards you but Rahel was stopping him with her hand.

„No, you stay away from her. It was you that made her lost her control.“

„What? Me? I didn’t do anything.“ He said in defensive and insulted.

„Your soul is calm but your mind is pure chaos. You will trigger her. She’s in a very sensible state right now.“

Bucky felt horrible. He was the one that made her relive her worst moments.

You slept for more than a week in your room till you woke up. Your headache was killing you and your whole body hurt.

„Are you going somewhere?“ You were shocked to see Bucky with a packed backpack sitting on the couch waiting for something.

„You’re up.“ His relief was indescribable but you were crossing your arms.

„I’m leaving for Wakanda. They offered me to get better. And that’s a chance I’m definitely going to take.“

„Without saying goodbye?“ You were hurt that he wanted to leave while you were passed out. You had the feeling that he was stealing himself away.

„I…I didn't want to hurt you again.“ He whispered.

„You never hurt me before, Bucky.“ You wanted to touch him but he took a step backwards.

„No. You can’t touch me. Rahel said, that I was the reason for you to be in pain and I'm sorry for that.“

„Rahel said that? Interesting…“, you said this more to yourself. „Buck, I can assure you that you were not the reason. If anything you were the reason to calm me.“ You tried to assure him but he didn’t look convinced.

„I want to give you something.“ You unlocked your necklace and put it on Bucky.

„I’ve heard that humans believe in lucky charms. So maybe this could be yours? It may or may not have a bit angel power in it.“ You smiled.

„It’s beautiful.“ he said as he touched the small pendant.

„I will become a good man.“ He promised; omitting the words For you

„You already are a good man.“

„Can I kiss you goodbye?“ You nodded. Bucky leaned down. He pressed his hard lips on your soft ones. You closed your eyes, hands resting on his broad shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your waist, securing you and pulling you closer to him.

„Wait for me, yeah?“ He whispered against your lips.

„I would wait an eternity for you.“ You answered, getting the feeling that you have said those words before.

Bucky, Steve and Rahel arrived in Wakanda the next day. Over the past week Bucky got the feeling that Rahel and Steve got closer, that Steve trusted this chick even though they knew nothing about her.

Bucky lay down as Shuri was running some tests. „Is the girl outside the room your girlfriend?“, she asked curiously. Bucky was surprised. He turned to his left only to see Rahel’s eyes fully trained on him. „No, she’s just an acquaintance.“ Bucky answered, mindlessly playing with the necklace. „Ah, I get it. The girl who gave you that is your girlfriend.“, She nodded with her head to his necklace, smiling sincerely.

When Steve and Rahel came back from Wakanda you were already waiting for them. Your sword lay next to you but otherwise you looked normal.

As Rahel walked through the door you held your sword’s blade against her throat

"Who are you?“ Steve had never heard so much authority and power in your voice.

„(Y/f/n) what are you doing?? That’s Rahel. She helped you.“ He said shocked

„I may have forgotten a lot of things but I know that Rahel died years ago in the big war. You locked me into my mind for a week and you told Bucky that it was his fault. So, I’m asking you again. Who are you? Reveal yourself!“, you commanded.

„Good to know that you haven’t forgotten everything, sister.“ Rahel’s beautiful face changed and a man was standing in her spot. Steve looked disturbed and disgusted while pursing his lips.

„Nathaniel, what are you playing at?“

„To make sure that history isn’t repeated. That you come to your senses and face the consequences. There is war up there and its entirely your fault.“ He shouted angrily.

„What? What war?“

„Like a civil war. Angels against Angels. Adoration versus human love. You choosing a mere human over heaven had dozen of consequences. You are a constant danger, a constant threat to heaven. You are the face of the revolution and I will no longer allow it.“ Before he could touch his weapon your sword already cut his throat. Orange light shone brightly and then it and his body disappeared.

“What the heaven?!”

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