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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 26 days

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Sugar Doesn't Taste Sweet - Lewis Hamilton

This is a much darker fic (imo) than any of the others, could be borderline like thriller romance. Because I'm ngl Lewis exudes a powerful man who hides a lot, including a dark side the public could not handle (at least that's how it's about to be in this fic).

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: He offered to be her sugar daddy and she figured what harm could it do? Lewis Hamilton is a man with more money than she could ever wish to have. She just never expected how he might use it on her.

READ THESE Themes/warnings: Abduction, tying up, psychological manipulation/breaking down, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamic initially, smut (always), literally psychopath!Lewis, sex is weaponised, not exactly a the happiest ending

No part 2 requests please - This is actually longer than I expected it to be

Y/n should've done this years ago. Ok. Maybe not years because she wasn't legal to the likes of Lewis. But she certainly wishes she'd done it earlier.

"Obviously we all know there's some sort of arrangement between Lewis and y/n. We all know it and they're not exactly subtle but maybe we should all start placing bets for how long it's going to last. I don't think it'll be long before she's not showing up in the paddock." A F1 TikToker states as y/n watches her phone and rolls her eyes.

They're right, but it doesn't change that it's annoying that they're right.

"What's that face for?" Lewis asks making her look up from her screen.

They're currently on his private jet to the next race and she's just been treated to a Birkin 30 to flaunt around the paddock. She flaunts her gifts and Lewis flaunts her. It's a beneficial dynamic for her either way.

"They're placing bets for as to when I'll not be with you anymore." Y/n sighs clicking her tongue before she smiles. "I mean I know I won't be around forever but they could at least not restrain themselves from being dicks about it."

"You'll be around long enough for them to get over it." Lewis shrugs pulling her over to straddle his lap. "They're jealous. Probably of me just as much as they are of you."

"Mmm...you think?" Y/n smiles then moving her hands down his torso as she leans in giving him a lingering kiss.

Lewis has never told her, but she really does have an addictive touch and presence. One that he's very much happy to get his hits of her as frequently as possible.

Y/n meanwhile is just enjoying having a millionaire's wife's lifestyle. Lewis is a great guy, and if he didn't come with such baggage, then maybe she'd seriously consider being in something long term with him. After all she's more than aware he's a sweetheart and a sex god and he takes good care of her. All boxes ticked. Plus there's no denying his children will be the prettiest kids ever, she'd take such pride in being in the garage as a WAG with their little kids in tow.

But reality is harsh and he does come with the baggage that gives her a headache.

Sex makes it better though.

His jet having a private cabin, though not a soundproof one, does also add to this moment being much more pleasurable.

It's an especially nice addition that Lewis is well endowed and not only that but the man was written by a woman ;). Female pleasure is at the top of his list and he gets off on it. Just that knowledge is enough to turn her on.

Hence why she's already soaked just sinking down on him, shivering at the feeling of his dick filling her beyond capacity.

"I could see you like this all day." Lewis states pushing on the bulge of himself through her stomach and taking some joy out of the sight of her eyes rolling backwards from the pleasure of the pressure of being filled.

Y/n pulls herself herself up, controlling and setting the pace while he makes sure she's taking every inch of him with each thrust. Starting to meet her part way on her way back down.

Her whimpers and clutching at him as her legs start to tremble from supporting her weight and he watchers her tummy quiver as she practically suffocates his cock with how tightly she's wrapped around him. Again pushing down on the bulge through her stomach making her actually cry out in a moan, back arching at the addition pressure mid-orgasm.

His own hand on also triggers his own orgasm the limited available space meaning it leaks out around him with nowhere else to do.

"Fucking hell." Y/n groans just exhausted. "You ever not going to leave me sore."

Lewis chuckles lightly managing to capture her in a kiss before she sighs and looks down then smiling when Lewis lifts her up off of him and begins the clean up for both of them. What a king of aftercare.

Y/n really made it easy to gain access to her devices, to get her login in for her apple account and see every message she sends. Lewis felt like a stalker for it but it paid off when he saw messages between her and her friend about the arrangement coming to an end.

Apparently she's saved up a lot of the money in the allowances Lewis gave her and she thinks it could keep her going for maybe even a couple years if she's smart. Not to mention she could easily sell some of the stuff he bought for her.

To say the least he doesn't think it's acceptable.

So he's not going to allow that to happen.

He asked for her to come to his place for dinner. Dates between them aren't unusual. Though it's a little unusual for him to have them at his house.

"That's a beautiful dress." Lewis smirks as he lets her in.

"Thanks. You bought it." Y/n smiles as he takes her hand raising it and getting her to spin as they walk to the dining room.

"Clearly. I have good taste." Lewis hums earning a grin before he pulls out the chair for her then tucking it as she sits.

His chef, who is under strict instructions to leave as soon as the main course is served, not even to clean up, serves them the starter earning a thank you from them both.

"So what's the occasion?" Y/n asks making Lewis look up, his dark eyes feigning innocent curiosity. "Well you've never invited me to your house for dinner before. Sex plenty of times, I've came here for a couple hours. But nothing so formal and...romantic."

"Are you saying I'm not romantic?" Lewis jokes earning a grin.

"You're romantic but it's just new." Y/n shrugs with a small smile. "Different."

"Good different."

"I'll let you know once we've finished the last course." Y/n hums which Lewis nods at.

They talk, they eat, they are served the main course. Lewis has his ears pricked for hearing the chef leave. Though y/n is too caught up talking about how she's been thinking about how they should take a trip in the next bigger gap.

"Sorry, baby. I'm just going to go to the toilet." Lewis states making her pause.

"Ok." Y/n smiles brightly looking like she realised she might've bene rambling a little.

Lewis sighs getting the cloth ready and putting on a mask. So long as he's quick and doesn't inhale any himself, he'll be safe and y/n will be his to do what he wants with.

Walking back in y/n is still just tucking in to the last of her main course.

"You know, I might be won over to this vegan diet. Your chef makes some good-"

Lewis cuts her off, the cloth doused in chloroform. He knew y/n would fight him, but even her attempt to run just allows him to knock her to the floor, already disoriented by the small amount she's inhaled. He holds the cloth over her face for a few minutes watching the tears well with the betrayal well and truly communicated to him.

She'll forgive him.

He'll make sure of it.

Eventually her body loses the fight to the toxins beating around her body, the adrenaline from her panic successfully aiding to knock her out faster.

Y/n coughs, feeling like her body is freezing even under what she can feel as heavy blankets covering her. She can't even begin to think about her surroundings when she shoots forward. The dinner she ate making the more ungraceful reappearance.

The splattering into a plastic bucket shocks her and her eyes open as she flinches feeling a hand rub her back. She can't move away till she's done and her stomach churns till there's nothing left there.

Then she scrambles back as the memories of what happened fill themselves in from the momentary fogginess.

"What did you do?" Y/n chokes out trying to ignore her body feeling like she's well below what temperature she should be.

"You need to calm down first. If you calm down, we can just talk. Ok?" Lewis tries to soothe but her eyes are darting around the room.

It doesn't take her long to realise that she's in a room she doesn't recognise. There's no windows and while it otherwise looks like just a normal bedroom she also can see the door is pretty heavy duty.

"Please let me go." Y/n hiccups wiping her eyes.

"You're cold."

"And whose fault is that! You drugged me! You-You-You're insane. Whatever you're doing people are going to figure it out and they're going to know! People will figure it out!" Y/n exclaims but the shouting only makes what little energy she has drain too quickly. "I trusted you."

"You'll learn to trust me again. You're better with me than without." Lewis states with a small smile.

"You're crazy." Y/n whispers curling up. "And you'll pay for this."

"You should get some more rest, it'll take a while for your body to recover and get everything out your system." Lewis states placing a heated blanket over her despite her making no attempt to comply in making it easy for him to put it around her.

He also places a kiss on her lips, and while she doesn't kiss back. He shifts leaning to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to break you and then we're going to be happy. Both of us." Lewis states making her feel her lip quiver but she refuses to let herself cry till he's gone. Even if she's certain he'll be able to watch her. "I love you."

"You wouldn't do this if you did...You didn't even ask me."

Lewis sighs standing up and leaving the room while she feels the heated blanket being annoyingly effective in working her exhaustion into taking her back into the depth of sleep.

Y/n really tried the hunger strike but she's not willing to kill herself to spite Lewis, she needs to keep up her strength if she's going to figure out how to get out of here.

"You look so pretty." Lewis comments watching her eat, has he has every time he's brought her food.

"You disgust me." Y/n grumbles but there's suddenly amusement in his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, finish eating." Lewis instructs earning a glare but she does as she's told. He clears the tray off to the side before smiling as he sits on the bed. "Do you know what I love about you so much?"

"That I'm so easily kidnapped?"

"That you're so easily touch-starved. You've got a high sex drive and even when you're here like this, I've watched you touch yourself for hours." Lewis comments stroking up her calve feeling her shudder under his touch. "And you're so desperate for someone else's touch, you can't even bring yourself to push me away."

Irritation spikes and she grabs his arms with some force, but she knows it's not enough to overpower him or prove him wrong.

"I could make you soak these sheets and you'd let me." Lewis states making her grit her teeth with annoyance. "Tell me I'm wrong and say no."

Y/n's might've been a sugar baby by trade with Lewis, but she is massively dependent on physical touch with a person. Even just with her friends and family she was cuddling and would hold hands with everyone just while walking through the street. Being so isolated socially and untouched physically is making her whole body beg for her to stop fighting Lewis just to accept his touch.

Her teeth grit with her internal battle, she's almost sure she'll shatter her teeth if she grinds them any harder.

Lewis brushes over the white cotton that's quickly growing damp in anticipation of his fingers. But suddenly he's gone and the ghost of his touch makes her gasp.

"What-I-"

"You need some time to think. I'm giving you that." Lewis states, though that's a lie. He has a plan and he needs to get something that is not in the room.

Y/n is frozen, her body tense and her brain glitching in the fact she really just let him do that. In fact she doesn't move until the door lock clangs and she flicks her gaze to him. Her eyes landing on leather cuffs and ropes.

"Are you going to make this difficult or easy?" Lewis questions making her blink but remain silent.

In fact she stays silent as he pulls off her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She's too stunned to speak but completely helpless to her body's urging for touch and need.

Before she knows it she's cuffed with arms above her head, her legs have been moved up spread with her knees tied so she can't move at all.

"I've missed seeing your body." Lewis comments watching her a little shaky and her pussy quivering as it almost drips under his gaze. "What if I just left you here like this?"

Lewis is going to make her beg. He's going to break her and then he's going to leave to really put the nail in the coffin.

Y/n wants to speak but her stubbornness would rather her take a chunk out her tongue from biting it so hard than speak like he wants.

"Remember how good I can make you feel?" Lewis states leaning down and kissing her exposed nipple hearing her throat making a noise from being her sealed lips. "Or do you need me to remind you."

Lewis is almost certain if he hadn't tied her up, y/n might even be trying to touch him. But she isn't instead she's shaking underneath him and keeping herself quiet.

"Say no and I'll stop." Lewis instructs looking up at her.

Y/n wouldn't dare, hell if he hadn't tied her up she thinks she might've clawed her way onto him.

Lewis doesn't move for a few moments, his fingers ghosting over her wetness and it's the final straw that makes her completely crack.

"Please! Please just touch me." Y/n cries making him smirk in victory, two fingers slip into her with ease feeling her tighten around him as if her body is begging for the physical attention. "Fuck."

"Oh baby, you want it badly." Lewis chuckles while she lets her head drop back, mainly because she can't bear the sight.

Her whimpers grow louder and louder before her back arches at just one tap at her clit. As Lewis predicted he did make her soak the she's squirting onto his hand.

Y/n pants, hardly recovered before he's pushed his dick into her.

"Please please please." Y/n whispers then crying out. Overstimulated from him and the fact she's waited so long to get this again.

"Just let it me have it all, y/n." Lewis commands making her try to pull at her hands desperate to touch him. But he's limited her ability to touch him on purpose, it's all part of his plan.

She has to not just want him but need him and he's got to push her to that.

Another orgasm triggers his own. Maybe he didn't enjoy it being such a long time either.

"No, please." Y/n whimpers when he pulls out.

"Aftercare, baby."

"I don't care." Y/n mutters but she still won't look at him.

"I do." Lewis states making her swallow thickly.

Lewis does clean her up before untying her picking her up and moving her onto the top of the drawers, noticing her grimace. Presumably a little sore since he was kind of rough.

"Don't move."

Admittedly Lewis doesn't usually change his own sheets, he has a housekeeper. But with him intending to keep y/n's captivity secret, he ends up changing sheets before moving her back onto the bed.

"I'm going to be gone for the race. But I've got to set up so you don't starve...can I trust you not to do something that means you're going to die in here while I'm gone?" Lewis asks since he knows there's a risk to giving her a fridge or airfryer is a risk.

Y/n's levels a glare shifting her jaw.

"Yes."

"Good girl."

Y/n really didn't think things could get worse.

Well worse to an extent. Lewis was kind enough to not leave her completely bored. Instead he's given her books to read to pass the time. Admittedly it's better than nothing.

But y/n is a social butterfly, she's an extrovert, she gets energy from being surrounded by people. She loves socialising.

Her mind can't help but wonder where she would be if she hadn't got herself into this situation.

The worst part is she really doesn't know when she might leave this room, when Lewis will trust her. She also doesn't know how he's made her feel so pathetic that she's desperate for his company and his touch when he's the whole reason behind this.

She doesn't even know what time of day it is. She has no idea how many days have past. She doesn't even know if a day has past or not.

Lewis got back home and sighs trying to decide if he wants to go straight to y/n or leave her for longer. He's been checking in on her and noticed that she's showered 3 times a day for over half an hour each time then used the hair dryer to dry herself off when the towels got too wet for her to keep using. She'd easily eaten 90% of the food out of boredom and it looks like she read half the books. Then she slept a significant amount.

He does decide to see her before anything else.

Walking in he finds she's actually asleep and he smiles deciding to just join her and see what happens. He pulls off most of his clothes and climbs onto the bed with her.

Instantly she jumps awake, clearly startled by the presence of another body but when she suddenly wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest.

Her body begins to shake as she cries against him.

"I missed you." Y/n hiccups actually hyperventilating latched onto him. "Please don't leave me. Please. I don't want to be left."

"I'm here now." Lewis soothes kissing the top of her head.

He's got no intentions of any freedom in the foreseeable future. Y/n is where he wants her and on hand. The only time he intends to move her is when he's figured out a way to make a room in his apartment in Monaco have equal security. Then he'll move her there. But until then, she's going to be in this room.

Maybe at some point he'll let her back out into the rest of the house.

But this is her life now, and she will get used to it. And he'll enjoy these moments of her relying on him as her means of maintaining some form of sanity.

Lewis really loves being wanted and needed like this.

Dark fic Taglist: @hiireadstuff @ellienorriss @decafmickey @daemyratwst @flowersonstreets @bethanymccauley @randomnessis-mine-me @sunf1ower16 @rylie-lothbrok @cixrosie @8justme @jehun @scopeiguess @bborra @poppyflower-22 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @igotnorrrizz @unknownmystery22 @nirrahbrii @sbella13 @d3kstar @neilakk @kawaiisadoglu @a-moment-captured @aeri101

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forgottenthreads · 22 days

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Alien Ambassador: so I've just been to Sol, met with the Humans, and we have a problem.

Alien politician: what sort of problem?

Ambassador: remember a while back we ran into that insectoid species?

Politician: yeah there were like what 60 million of them in delta P right, such a headache trying to negotiate voting rights for them, their population was out of control.... An order of magnitude more than any other race we've encountered, Wait there's not 60 million humans right?

Ambassador: um no... There's not 60 million humans

Politician: thank the stars, those humans are a mess, I heard what they did to their system, global warming, nuclear war, then Mars... Just crazy...

Ambassador: they passed 60 Million humans before the nuclear war, in fact they passed 600 Million humans before their nuclear war.... They had 6 Billion when their global warming was first identified

Politician: oh.... Oh no...

Ambassador: the insectoids had one mother laying eggs, about half the humans are mothers, they can double in population every 2-3 years if they want, though typically they double every 30 to 50 years

Politician: so that's ...

Ambassador: they're coming up on a trillion

Politician: ... A problem. Wait how does even two planets support that many of them?

Ambassador: well they don't just live on Earth, Luna, Venus and Mars anymore, someone had the idea to turn space debris into 'space stations' and farmland... They predict their system can support 10,000x the population before running out of easily accessible materials.

Politician: ... Well the fecal matter is certainly going to hit the circulation unit when the news gets out... They have no self control... Wait a second wasn't Venus that Acid world... What the... How are they living there?

Ambassador: I figured it was better not to ask.

Politician: I think I'd better get to work, please write up a full report for .... Everyone .... everyone will want to know... *Sigh* it's gonna be a long Decade.

#humans are space orcs #writing #scifi #sci fi and fantasy #story prompt

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tange-my-rine · 1 month

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borrow some sugar || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: You were living in the city, on your own. It was your dream though, you'd known it was far from home but you needed the space. Well, wanted the space. Didn't mean it wasn't lonely. The one time you actually met your neighbor, of course, you put your literal whole life in danger.

TW: blood, guns, murder, threats, cursing (it's Tangerine), protective!Tangerine (eventually), kidnapping, threats, and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: love a good normal person × Tangerine, and this is the epitome of that. Except you get way too wrapped up in it.]]

"Yeah, I know," you echoed out, fetching your keys out of your pocket -mindlessly walking through the hallway, "-I'm always safe, you know that."

Pressing your phone onto your shoulder, you heard a sort of bang -a heavy thud really, on the wall.

You furrowed your brows, the neighbor on that side was usually quiet. Like unusually quiet. You'd seen him, maybe once or twice in the hallway -he'd never said a word to you. Always wearing a suit and a super serious face, you'd assumed he was some sort of corporate worker with insane hours.

"Look," you spoke, unlocking your handle, "-I have to go, but I'll call you back tomorrow. I'm home already."

Slipping into your apartment, you sighed, pushing your phone into your pocket, dropping your keys, and taking off your shoes by the door. With the familiar thrum of your fridge, you mindlessly wander up to your couch and drop your bag.

It had been a terrible day at work, your boss was... well, your boss. And your work was exhausting, your feet hurt and your brain was working on the migraine of the century-

You just wanted to eat and watch your comfort TV show and turn your brain off -for an hour, at least. If not for the last few hours before you went to sleep, that was dream case scenario. Finally, when your brain was succumbing to the buzz of the voices, your eyes drifting shut, and the couch seemed so fluffy, there was a noise.

At first, you ignored it -figured it was your brain or something out in the hallway.

But then, it came back -a clear, harsh knock.

'2:30 am,' flashed across your screen as you looked at it, and then again, seriously, you thought you imagined it. Because who would that be?

You were fully awake now, leaning up on your couch, staring at your door -waiting, testing if it was real.

Knock.

Huh, you stood up -wiping at your eyes, and slowly slinking to the door.

"Hello?"

You don't know what you expected, but it certainly wasn't what you saw.

It was your neighbor, sweaty with ripped clothes (a suit, you think) -was he ever in anything else? His eyes were lidded, nose bleeding, it stained his mustache, and you were pretty sure there was a knife in his shoulder-

"You 'ave any first aid?" He had an accent, a crazy accent that somehow suited him but you didn't expect at all.

"Are you-" you were in disbelief, "-Are you okay?"

He paused, before retorting -frankly, "Did you hear a fuckin' word I said, love?"

"Sorry, sorry," you swallowed, beckoning him inside, "-I think I have one in my bathroom. Just- Just sit at the counter."

"Right, thanks."

You weren't even sure your feet were touching the ground at this point, but still, you were quick -sifting through your cabinets.

A man is bleeding out in my kitchen, your brain panged, -a man is bleeding out in my kitchen.

Blinking, you mindlessly -in an entirely different way now- but directly made your way to the kitchen. A kit in your hand, you pinched yourself for a moment -this would be one weird fucking dream.

As you said, the man sat on a stool -blood dripping down onto your tile. You briskly wondered how to get that out, before sliding all the supplies across the countertop -the clatter filling the quiet air.

Pulling yourself onto the stool opposite him, you licked across your lips -fidgeting with some packaging.

"You couldn't just borrow some sugar?" you mumbled, taking out an alcohol wipe.

"What?" He furrowed his eyebrows, frown still present on his lips -it seemed like it stayed there.

"This-" you motioned to him, "-is the first time we've met. You couldn't do a normal neighbor thing? Like borrow sugar-"

"Sorry, love," he rolled his eyes, "-I'll think of it fuckin' next time, yeah?"

"You should," you scoffed, "-I don't think every neighbor would appreciate bloodstains."

"And you do?"

"No," you stressed out, dabbing at a cut along his cheek -not the worst one but the first one you could handle right now, "-I am barely awake right now, and I'm half convinced you aren't even real-"

"Very real," he tsked, less biting this time.

You digested that information, swallowing dryly. A man, in some business, was on your stool, bleeding.

"Honest question," You pursed your lips, before focusing on another cut above his eyebrow. You were blatantly ignoring the knife, you literally had no idea-

"Go ahead," he huffed out, breaths puffing out of his chest.

"How the hell did you get stabbed?"

The man paused, thinking over his answer (why did he have to think?), "Break-in?"

You raised an eyebrow, tossing out the wipe, "You sure about that answer?"

"Better if ya didn't know, love," he mended -blue eyes slinking over your kitchen.

You hummed, picking through the material -thank god you took that sewing class, "Kind of expected that, mysterious suited neighbor."

"Tangerine."

You flicked up your eyes, confused, "Is that... Is that your safeword, or...?"

"Fuckin' hell," he sighed, using a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "-'s my name."

"Your name?" you questioned, tone raising.

"My brother-" he began before shaking his head -solidly, "-Doesn't fuckin matter, are ya gonna get to the knife wound or?"

"Listen," you spoke -a little pressed, "-I'm not one to stitch up wounds, Tangerine. I have to remember my sewing class-"

"You gonna stitch up my fuckin' shirt then, love?"

"Oh my god," you exhaled through your nose, "-no wonder you had to come to a stranger."

He opened his mouth -eager to bite back, but you promptly interrupted him.

"I have no experience," you said, taking the knife handle into your hand, "-but I'm pretty sure this is going to hurt like hell."

"Lucky for you, love," he spoke through labored breaths -wrapping his fingers around yours, "-I'm very fuckin' experienced."

And then without hesitation, he tugged it out.

The next few moments were bloody and unreal to you -your hands working quickly but your brain significantly falling behind. You could cross 'stitching up a wound on a handsome man' off your bucket list if it was ever even on there.

Now, you sat on the stool -hands sticky red, and your shirt (one of your better pjs, sadly) stained just the same. With a roll of bandages, you wrapped his shoulder with tedious little movements -eyes focused only on the skin. Only looking up when you'd tied it off, mind finally settling.

"Is that everything?" You asked, careful to not put your hands anywhere except your shirt.

"Yeah," he spoke, softer, "-just some bruisin', I think."

"Let me get you some peas," you echoed, sliding down from your stool -steps slow, you were just tired.

He didn't speak a word, as you dug through your freezer -finding one at the very bottom, of course.

You extended your hand, the cold sensation keeping you up -aware. Right now, your brain was in overdrive, probably ever since he'd shown up at your door, and your body merely just followed behind.

He shifted, grabbing it from you -you saw a kiss of a tattoo that you were curious about but not enough to ask. Your eyes sunk along his shirt, which was not a shirt anymore, all bloodstained and ripped up.

Before you could stop it, you were asking, "Do you need new clothes?"

Tangerine paused, looking at you like you grew a third head. You were past that point, you had his literal blood on your hands -there was no need to be shy now.

"'Had a boyfriend about your build," you clarified, "-I never gave him back like 10 shirts, so-"

"10?" He interrupted and you thought you might've seen a smile quirk onto his lips.

"He smelled good," you offered, before spinning to the kitchen and proceeding to scrub your hands with no hesitation, "-You want one or not?"

"Yeah," he sighed out, a little awkwardly, "-Yeah, thanks."

"While I'm at it," you spoke over your shoulder, "-do you need a place to stay?"

He pursed his lips, hand pushed into the peas against his ribs -you imagined it would be a big bruise in the morning.

"I'm pretty sure whatever happened," you emphasized, "-left a mess. I have a couch if you need it."

"Bein' awfully fuckin' nice to a stranger," he hummed, eyes tired.

"I figured you would've killed me way earlier," you remarked, finally drying them on a nearby towel, "'Had some good opportunities."

He smiled then, you actually saw it with your own two eyes -you almost thought you were hallucinating. His head tilting back, as his shoulder pressed against your counter -he looked kind of like a painting, all twisted angles and sharp jaw.

"What's yours?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "My what?"

"Your name, love," he answered, soft and attentive -much different than before (you kind of thought he might've lost too much blood).

"You wanna know that now?" You laughed, but even still you told him -there was something about him that made you feel at ease. He really shouldn't have.

He stayed that night, cozied up in your ex-boyfriend's shirt (which he looked surprisingly good in) and freshly showered. You didn't see him when you woke up that morning, and you didn't know why you had expected it.

A few weeks go by, and you were pretty sure that he moved out. Which, in retrospect, made sense, even still something in you felt kinda disappointed. He was the first person you'd actually talked to in months.

Coworkers didn't count.

You shook your head, he was literally covered in blood. In a business he couldn't talk about, and you missed him? You were officially losing your mind.

"Stupid," you muttered, eyes dipping across the TV -some sort of cheesy romcom that you'd never seen before in your life but still felt nostalgic to watch. It wasn't the worst thing you'd ever seen.

Good enough to sit and eat your favorite meal to, it was interesting enough to keep you awake.

When you finally slinked off to bed, and tossed into your fluffy comforter and soft pillows, you were exhausted. Far too exhausted to stay awake any longer. So, you didn't.

The sun was creeping through your window when you woke up, but not a morning sun -a too early sun. You groaned, looking to your phone and seeing without a doubt, it was 4:15 am. At first, you didn't know why you'd woken up so early but then you heard it.

A knock.

Initially, you were not going to move because it was warm here and you were tired.

But then you thought about if it was him, and if in the morning you'd see him dead on your doorstep. That would be suspicious, and you'd probably end up in jail-

You sighed, pulling yourself out of the bed and pattering to the door. And when you swung it open, you were met with familiar blue eyes.

Before you could stop it, you asked, "Don't you have any friends?"

He barked out a laugh -chuckle really, but something in him seemed nervous (like he wasn't sure if he should have come), "Lovely to see you too, love."

"Right," you agreed, before shuffling to the side and letting him in. He relaxed ever-so-slightly.

The first thing you noticed was a split on his forehead, just a cut -it wouldn't need any stitches (thank god, these pajamas were your favorite), and then you dipped to his clothes which were actually in tack. It was a blue suit, really complimented his eyes, and you wondered distantly if he did that on purpose. He seemed the type.

His pants though were dirty, and you could see him limping -only slightly. He was definitely not in as bad as shape as before though; you really wondered why he was here.

"Sit," you motioned to the stool and disappeared into your bathroom.

You got much of the same things and climbed onto the stool beside him, eyes sweeping across his face. Now that you were closer, you could see little cuts along his skin -teeny tiny.

"Glass bottle," he offered before you could say anything.

You hummed, nonchalantly, "Coulda guessed."

Your brain was numb at the moment, still sleepy and you once again thought this might've been a hallucination. He was handsome after all, and you did daydream about handsome men so it definitely could be. And you guessed you could have a saviour thing-

You stopped your train of thought, interrupting the silence as you dabbed at his forehead, "You know I'm not a doctor, right?"

He spoke, frankly, "You talked about a sewing class when you needed to stitch up my bloody fuckin' knife wound, love."

You nodded, fair point, before continuing, "Then why are you here?"

Tangerine paused, and you thought distantly he didn't have an answer, until he answered, "'Hard to do myself."

You thought for a moment, before replying, "What about your brother?"

"Not in the fuckin' country," he answered simply -something frustrated in his tone. But then again, when wasn't there?

"Hmm," you hummed, before rubbing the rest of the tiny cuts -he hissed slightly, "-different job?"

"No," he exhaled, "-just a different... mission."

"'Make it sound like you're a super spy," you laughed, "-but Tangerine isn't a very cool codename."

"Fuck you."

"You are such a joy," you remarked, debating bandaging the top cut, "-Are bandaids too baby for you?"

"Plasters?" He asked.

British, right, you nodded -waving one in your fingers, "Yeah, I think it's all I've got for your wounds. Well, unless you want it wrapped around your head-"

"'s fine," he muttered -low but you still caught it.

"Good," you assured, sticking one to his skin -fingers fluttering along his skin (when was the last time you touched someone?).

"Alright," you leaned back, gathering up your supplies -promptly ignoring the thought, "-all done here. Your leg-"

"Bruised ankle," he clarified -explaining the limp.

"Oh," you spoke, "-I'll get the peas again."

Your eyes dipped to his pants, covered in... something (maybe a mix of blood and dirt?), "And a pair of pants."

He didn't say a word, merely staying seated, as you grabbed the peas -sliding them across your counter. Before stalling slightly, asking-

"Do you even still live here?"

He pressed his lips together, apparently debating telling you -which you were slightly offended by, "No."

"So you're staying?" You asked, neutrally.

"Don't 'ave to," he spoke -not combative, and you really thought you were hallucinating then.

You tilted your head, confused, "You can stay, didn't I say that before?"

He nodded, still so wordless, and you were honestly the most confused you ever could be. Tangerine was quieter, softer, and it was nothing like the time before; he even seemed grateful.

"Honest question," you started.

"Yeah, love?"

"Are you okay?" You decided, careful wording with eye contact strong. You two were kind of close, he left his life in your hands -it was strangely intimate. Your relationship was very confusing, but it felt right to ask.

"Yeah," he answered -furrowing his brows, "-these wounds are fuckin' nothing, love. I have been far, far closer to death."

"No, I mean-" you clarified, "-like mentally. You're being too nice."

He raised his eyebrows, "Too nice?"

"Yeah," you stressed like it was obvious, "-you are like grateful and shit. You've barely cussed at me."

"You saved my fuckin' life, love," he questioned, "-shouldn't I be kind for 'at?"

"You should," you agreed, before contradicting, "-but you don't."

He was quiet then, eyes not meeting yours as his fingers tapped against your counter -seemingly running things over in his mind. It was awhile that he was doing that, but you patiently waited. You suspected opening up at all wasn't his forte.

Finally, still looking around your living room, he mumbled, "'Needed to see someone."

You took him at his word -not dwelling because it really felt like he didn't want to, and the rest of the night was the same. He took the pants, slept on the couch, and was gone in the morning -even though he couldn't have slept more than a few hours.

It started happening pretty regularly after that. You'd fix him up, he'd talk, you'd talk, he'd stay over. You started loosening up, talking about your job, and your life -nothing super specific. He stayed clammed up about his job, but his personal life he did talk about -there wasn't much, but he did talk about his brother.

You felt like that was a big thing.

And then, after quite a few months between visits, you heard a knock at your door. Super late as always, you made your way to it -expectant and in routine. This time though, there were two of them: a familiar Tangerine, and a man with bleached tips and a surprisingly big smile.

"Hello," he smiled and it was very odd -Tangerine hardly smiled, "-lovely to meet ya, I'm Lemon."

You could assume from the name, even still, you felt a little out of place, "Nice to meet you."

"Brother," Tangerine motioned to him -frustration nearly radiating off of him, as he made his way inside.

"Rude," Lemon spoke, "-can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," you exhaled, letting him in.

Tangerine was relatively well -bruised knuckles, a busted lip, and a mild slice on his collarbone. Lemon was even better with just a black eye, atleast on the surface.

Instead of on the stool, Tangerine beelined straight to the bathroom -slamming the door.

You pursed your lips, turning to Lemon for answers, "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"Annoyed 'im into takin' me 'ere," he answered simply, "-'Wanted to meet who my brother was talkin' about."

He talks about me, you thought for a moment -you fully believed that you were a little miniature part of his life, not something he'd talk about. Especially to his brother.

He must've seen your confusion, because he continued.

"Oh, he never shuts up, love," he laughed, "-'Feel like I already fuckin' know ya."

"Huh," you responded, puzzled.

You thought about it for a second, running over the idea in your mind. What did he have to talk about? Your life? Your boring job, your lack of love life, your favorite cheesy movies? He told that to his brother? His brother with the same unbelievable life?

Why the hell would he do that?

"Please, sit on my couch," you finally spoke, wandering towards the kitchen with intent, "-I'll get you something cold for your eye. And then, I'll deal with the tantrum."

"Thanks," Lemon smiled, tottering off to your TV and without hesitation, popping it on.

He really was very comfortable for not knowing you. How much had Tangerine said?

You stepped into the living room, offering the same peas to Lemon (did you even like peas?) that you often gave Tangerine. He smiled gratefully.

"Do you need any like Tylenol?" You asked, further -eyes swiftly drifting over his eye, it was a nasty sort of yellow, "-that one is a shiner."

"So nice," Lemon hummed, "-no wonder my brother was hoggin' ya. But, I'll be alright, 'ave had worse."

You nodded, before slowly making your way toward the bathroom. Raising your hand, you gently knocked -nothing compared to his on your door in ungodly hours of the morning.

"Tangerine?" You offered.

The door slid open, and your eyes swam over him -taking in his wounds that you had before like in confirmation. He really wasn't hurt bad, not like other times.

Turns out, you didn't care and still wanted to help.

He was leaning against the counter fidgeting with his hands -you think there was blood on his rings. You spoke before you could think about it.

"You want me to wash those?"

He quirked an eyebrow, "What?"

“Your rings,” you clarified, mentally cursing yourself, “-or… do you need help with your wounds?”

He seems to think about it for a moment, eyes dashing across his knuckles -his rings, really. You only watched him for a few moments, half convinced you had dreamt this all up, that maybe he didn’t even exist. Maybe he was a figment of your imagination, he was certainly handsome enough. And his name was Tangerine. This could definitely all be a dream.

“Think I can do the rings myself, love,” he laughed a little -you still weren’t used to that sound, “-and the wounds aren’t ‘at bad.”

You looked at him for a moment, peering along the busted lip and the slice on his collarbone, “You sure? It’s kind of all I do, is it not?”

He smiled, mustache quirking up, “If it makes you feel better, you can clean the cut. But really, love, I’m fine.”

You pursed your lips, taking in his breaths that swirled with yours -the bathroom was small, “I’ll just get you some ice for your knuckles. But if you die from infection, it’s not on me.”

He really laughed at the one, as you spun on your feet back to the kitchen -digging out some other frozen food you hadn’t gotten around to eating yet. With a solid motion, you extended it forward (it was maybe tater tots?), offering it to Tangerine.

“Sorry it’s not the peas,” you spoke, pointing to Lemon -who at the time seemed to be half asleep on the couch, “-your brother stole those.”

“The fuckin’ twat,” he hissed out, a little too personally -you thought it was probably about something far bigger than your frozen peas. He could definitely be that petty though. So, it was possible.

"Woah, somebody's pissy today. Bad day?"

Tangerine seemed to pause, eyes swimming over you -like he was committing you to memory, you briefly wondered why.

"Yeah," he said, solidly -not elaborating. You knew better than to expect him to.

"Well," you spoke, a little awkwardly -not sure where to go, "-I've got... icecream?"

He looked at you like you were insane, but then again, when wasn't he? You said a lot of things without a filter in front of him. Handsome men, what could you say?

"Like..." you clarified, clearing your throat, "-to eat."

"Yeah, love, I fuckin' got 'at part. Why the hell would I want icecream?"

There it was. Tangerine in his true form.

You opened your mouth to respond, but someone else cut you to the chase.

"Sorry," Lemon perked up, "-did you say icecream? Because 'at would be really lovely with this movie, a great pair-"

"Yeah," you turned to him -his presence was a lot warmer (why was his name Lemon?), "-I've only got one flavor, but..."

"Fine with me," Lemon responded, with a big smile, "-brother, are you gettin' any?"

Tangerine huffed out of his nose, genuinely frustrated apparently -much different than a moment ago. What was he even angry about? There was nothing-

"No," he spoke through a snarl.

"Ouch," Lemon put his hands on his heart, replying flatly, "-really hurts, mate. Not used to your shitty behavior at all."

You decidedly left the room (not really it was all open concept), waltzing toward your kitchen with a focus in mind. As you were digging around, trying to find the pint you'd hidden from yourself, you were interrupted.

"Do you..." you turned at his voice, Tangerine, he didn't look very certain of his words, "-Do you need any help, love?"

"Help?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow, "-With icecream?"

"Well," he was suddenly very grumpy -probably embarrassed, "-you help me all the fuckin' time, so I just thought- Excuse me for fuckin' offering."

"You..." you started, standing and now facing him, "-You were going to repay me for saving your life, by helping me with icecream?"

"'S hardly saving my life," he grumbled, under his breath -you still heard it.

"You had a knife-" you motioned harshly to stress the word, "-in your shoulder the first time we met."

"Not deadly," he retorted, a bit pompous.

You rolled your eyes, "Look, give me the benefit of the doubt-"

Tangerine quickly said -almost on instinct, "I certainly will fuckin' not."

"-let's call it even," you continued, ignoring his remark, "-I save your life, you save mine."

"That's..." he started, "-That's makin' it even?"

"Well, yeah," you tilted your head, "-a life for a life."

He furrowed his eyebrows, you took it as him not understanding.

"Let's say that I'm getting chased down an alley," you clarified, before interjecting, "-Ooh wait, or maybe I'm getting robbed-"

"Are you fuckin' excited at the idea of gettin' robbed, love?"

"No," you quickly mended, "-it's just a better story. Plus, that's not relevant-"

His lips quirked up into a little smile.

"-What I'm saying is," you started, "-If I'm in trouble, you have to save me. To make it even."

"And how am I supposed to know when you're in trouble, then?"

You paused, pursing your lips -good point, "Uh, I don't know. Do you guys have like a bat signal? Like I hold up a fruit stand sign to the light-"

"Very funny," Tangerine interrupted -flatly, "-Look, just take my phone number, yeah? If you're ever in trouble, you can ring me like a fuckin' normal person."

"You're one to talk," you responded, before furrowing your eyebrows, "-Wait, you guys have phones?"

"Yeah," Tangerine stressed, "-who do you think we are?"

"Well, I don't know," you explained, "-don't phones have trackers? Won't that out you guys? When you're on... jobs?"

"Burners," Lemon quickly clarified, "-well, kind of. 'S on a secret network, basically."

"So," you started, processing, "-you want to give me your secret phone number?"

Tangerine hummed, realizing but seeming to settle, "Well, it's not like you've given me a reason to not trust you, love. Should I not?"

"True," you responded, "-I have not snitched on you. Even with... all the blood, and the knife, and the job you won't talk about-"

"We get it, love," he groaned out, "-just give me your fuckin' phone, yeah?"

You without hesitation gave it to him, he seemed to quickly put your phone number in his, and then his in yours -handing it back to you open on the contact. With a smile, you made his name the tangerine emoji.

"You put me as the damn emoji, didn't you?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed out, pocketing your phone in one fellow swoop.

You ended up seeing them both a few more times after that with varying injuries. (Once Lemon had a broken nose, and Tangerine had a broken finger. No more knives, thankfully.)

They were starting to be familiar to you -friends even. Despite not telling you about their job, you had gotten to know them well; you hate to brag but you were pretty good at settling their arguments. It made you integral to their dynamic.

You probably should've known one day you helping them stay alive would come back and bite you in the ass.

See, if you were asked, you'd probably assume they had many enemies. They were, at least, fighting people on a daily basis -you don't do that if your job is a positive one. And fighting people, almost regularly, is a surefire way of saying 'somebody hates me'. They probably had an enemy in every other city, if you were realistic.

You don't know why you hadn't thought of that.

That day, it was just a normal one. You worked until the sun went down, and then went home. Or you were supposed to.

Your shift at work was long and exhausting and you kind of wished your bed was right in front of you -so, to be honest, you weren't in your most aware state. It was always dangerous walking the streets tired, you knew this, so you usually had someone walk home with you. This night, in particular, was a lone shift (hell on earth) with a manager you didn't like, so you didn't ask.

And maybe that was stupid of you, but you doubted they would say yes.

Your feet pattered along the sidewalk, street lamps fading in and out of your view. Every few steps it'd get dark and then light again; to be honest, you were too tired to feel scared when it was dark.

And then, right as you stepped into the light, you heard the screech of car breaks (which you were kind of used to) and then suddenly there were hands all over you. Gloved hands, black-gloved hands.

Before you could say a word, you were thrown into the back of a van -no seats by the way, and enveloped in darkness.

It took you a minute to adjust, head spinning and hands shaking against the cold metal underneath you. It kind of felt like when you met Tangerine for the first time, like you weren't really there. Like you were experiencing something so bizarre, it couldn't be real-

Shit, you thought to yourself, Tangerine.

You patted yourself, ruffling over your pockets -trying to find your phone. It was dark and you couldn't even see. You guessed that was why, your phone went clattering onto the metal, away from your hand -loud.

There was something in you that hoped that these guys were stupid. That they'd look over the noise and ignore you until they took you wherever the hell they were taking you.

You weren't that lucky.

The van was distinctly pulled over, tires even scraping along the bumpy texture. And within minutes, the door to the van was flung open.

They were just a shadowy figure, light framing them so you couldn't see any of his features at all. He was just a shadow. You didn't know if that made him any scarier.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" His voice was low and gruff -like a smoker.

"I didn't-" you started, trying to avoid your phone -it was shadowed in the dark. You doubted he could see it-

And then his eyes flicked directly to it.

You literally could not have had a worse day.

Instead of reaching for it, he eyed for you to instead. And for a second, you thought he might've been trying to help you. That was wrong.

With your phone in your hand, the man promptly put a gun to your head. From a distance, yeah, but still trained directly into the center of your forehead. Was he going to kill you? Just like that?

This was suddenly very real, you swallowed back tears and nearly dropped your phone -trying to raise your hands up.

"Please," you begged, slowly and shaky but clear enough for them to hear.

"Shut up," he hissed out, "-listen. Take your phone, and call 'em."

"C-Call who?"

"Don't play dumb with me," the man echoed out, and you heard the click of the trigger pulling back -dear god, "-we know you're close to the twins, we've been watchin' your place for months."

"Okay, okay-" you breathed out, it felt like your lungs were full like you were suffocating-

Tears burned at the backs of your eyes, as your fingers, shaking, scrolled around the contacts app -he hadn't texted you or anything so all you had was his contact. Only for emergencies, he'd said.

You almost wanted to scare him once, but the idea felt so very stupid now.

Clicking call, the man nudged your hand, speaking lowly, "Put it on fucking speaker, now."

You dutifully did so, even if it took a few tries to hit the button -your hands were shaking enough to blur the screen. Your head was spinning, and the only thing your could feel was the cold metal beneath your legs.

Why did you ever think this was a good idea? To get caught up with... with bloody men who had a mysterious job?

You were moving back home if you made it out alive -the city wasn't worth this.

"'Ello?" His voice was spent, and you could hear the raggedy breaths puffing out of his chest -somehow hearing his voice calmed you just a second.

The man nudged you again, so you spoke, "Tangerine?"

He must have not been paying attention, because your shaky whisper -wet from your tears, you were crying, went relatively unnoticed.

"Little busy at the mo-" you heard a solid hit and what sounded like a crack, "-ment, you sure this is important, love?"

The man kept his eyes laser-focused on you, you took it as a sign to keep talking.

"T-Tangerine," you repeated, more inflection -the shake in your voice unavoidable.

The noise on the phone, suddenly got very quiet -you heard him mumble something to Lemon 'you got 'im?' before seeming to pull his full attention to you, "Everything okay, love? You sound... Is somethin' wrong?"

The man looked at you, expectantly. You took it as to tell him what was happening, clenching your nails into your skin -it might bleed. The pain was distracting, even just for a moment.

"I-I'm," you tried, but your voice cracked, and your breath turned into a sob, "T-There's a man, he has a gun to my head, I don't- I don't know why-"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Tangerine spit out, something fierce in his voice, "Lemon-"

The man snatched the phone from your hand, voice low and in a growl, "Seems I got something you want, Tangerine. It's only fair."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Doesn't matter," the man deflected, "-all that matters is that I have your little nurse, and you have no idea where we are."

The van, suddenly without warning, started up again -swinging back onto the road. You braced yourself against the wall, mindlessly blinking -this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.

You could hear the pounding of his footsteps -rushed, like he was trying to get somewhere, "If you lay a hand on 'em, I will fuckin' rip you apart, piece by excruciating piece. Slow and fuckin' steady, for hours-"

"You say that as if you know where we are," the man responded, "-as if you have a chance of finding them in time."

In time? your brain chimed, and everything felt so far away now.

"I swear to fuckin' god-" he spit out, venomous, "-if you hurt 'em-"

"Yeah, yeah," the man retorted -confidence in his tone, "-I got that part, fruit."

You breathed out, swallowing back tears, and wiping your eyes so hard that you were seeing spots; maybe this was all a dream, maybe you had just fallen asleep at work-

"Hate to do this to you," the man echoed out, "-but we have to go. Let's hope we see each other later, for your sake."

Tangerine nearly yelled through the phone, but that didn't stop him from hanging up.

At the next stop, the man moved back to the front -taking your phone with him. You sat alone, in the back of a van, in complete darkness.

Would this be the last thing you ever see? Really?

It was just like you were in the city, so incredibly alone. At least you had a chance then, to remedy it. Now... Now you weren't even sure you'd be breathing in a few hours.

"Oh god," you breathed out a big exhale, a sob bubbling up your throat -you had so much left to do, "-oh god."

The van didn't stop for what felt like forever, bumpy roads and quick turns -they were speeding the whole time, and you had no idea how they weren't pulled over. But maybe it was because of the hour, it was fairly late.

The door swung open before you could think about anything else, two men rushing in and grabbing you by the shoulders -dragging you out.

"If you scream," you felt cold metal to your neck, "-you're dead."

"Aren't you going to kill me anyways?"

"Only if your friends," the other man retorted, "-don't behave."

They tied something around your eyes, leaving you completely in the dark -gloved hands squeezing your shoulders so tight, they were definitely going to bruise. Three sets of feet pattered along what sounded like concrete, as your mind went numb -the cold, bitter air filtering over your skin.

It was echoing now, after you heard the swing of some heavy doors opening -must have been a big place. Your mind was reeling, you felt like you weren't even really there.

Then, without a word, they threw you forward directly into a brick wall -seemingly latching a door behind you. Your head spun for a moment as you tried to reorient yourself -blindfold still on, as you pulled it off you felt a stickiness on your forehead.

Pulling your hand in front of your face, you realized it was blood. How hard did you hit your head?

Your fingers flitted across it again, and you hissed. Apparently very hard.

You tried to look at your hands, see how much blood, but it was all shadowed -the darkness didn't change much from what you saw in the blindfold.

Hands shaking, you leaned yourself against the wall -tears steadily making their way down your cheeks. You could cry now, freely, as you finally were brought back down to your body.

This was really happening. You were in some dingy old room, and there were men outside who wanted to kill you to get at someone else. You were expendable, a pawn.

Any moment, any feeling, and they could just kill you. You'd die here, and nobody would know what happened to you.

You'd be one of those news stories you couldn't believe.

The brick scratched against your head, but it was kind of numbed by your headache -pounding where you knew the split of skin to be. Or where you could've guessed it was anyway.

That couldn't mean anything good.

Your breaths were starting to hollow out, low and slow, your body coming back to the cold concrete floors. You were grappling with your helplessness, what the hell would you do? What could you do?

You were... you couldn't do anything. You were done. This was it, all that work for... for you to die in some dingy old room alone.

And then, you thought of something you hadn't thought to. Something you'd never let your mind dig into, not really, because at the time it seemed stupid.

Tangerine.

You'd always known there was something there, something bubbling under your skin. Even with everything, you still... there was something.

Something warm in your chest at the idea that he came to see you. That it wasn't just for the help anymore. And he was handsome, and he promised to save you and his eyes and his arms and his hands-

Before you could think about it for too long, something interrupted you.

Boom.

It made your ears sting, the noise bouncing along the walls -you flinched where you sat. Breath sudden in a gasp, you stilled. Almost like as if someone could see you, like you were hiding.

There was some shuffling outside, someone messing with the latch on the door -they were struggling. Maybe because their hands were shaking? They were trying to get in-

And then, right outside the door was an even louder-

Boom.

It makes your head sting, squeezing your eyes shut so hard that you see spots. You swallowed, trying to calm the pounding in your head, rubbing at your temples.

Gunshots, you recognized, suddenly, they were gunshots.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, they were right outside the door. With a gun. With a gun-

Before you could think of anything to say, the rattling at the door started again -the scratch of metal against metal. It sounded more frantic now, somehow, and your whole body froze. Maybe if you didn't move they wouldn't hear you?

The door swung open, light pouring in that made your eyes sting. The door pounding against the wall -loud and opposing.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your breath, staying completely still -hoping the shadow hid you against the walls. One hand covering your face, waiting until a figure steps into the room.

And when one did, cast in shadow, you sat very still. Watching their head twist around the room, back and forth -looking, searching.

You bit back a sob, let me live, let me live.

Then, they spoke.

"Love? Are you in 'ere?" He echoed out, "-Or was that fuckin' twat lyin'-"

"Tangerine," spilled out of your mouth as you rushed forward -wrapping your arms around him in a huff, "-holy shit, Tangerine-"

He stood frozen for a second, unfamiliar with the affection, you assumed. You inhaled a shaky breath in, the whiff of his cologne keeping you stable, there. You were safe-

His arms slowly met around you, unsure, but settling comfortably. Holding you for a second, just a second.

"Are you alright, love?" He pushed back a little bit -blue eyes scanning over you, "-Did he fuckin' lay a hand on you?"

"No, just-" you breathed out, pushing through the pain, "-he slammed me against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard, but that's-"

"Your head?" He asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the light, "-Come out 'ere, love, so I can see."

"It's not really-"

Tangerine let out a big sigh, turning back to you, "Let me help you, yeah?"

You pursed your lips, eyeing him for a moment -he was relatively unscathed, just a blood stain on his shirt and maybe some busted-up knuckles. His hair was still in place and his suit jacket uncreased, he felt composed -sturdy. Stable, really.

"Okay," you whispered out, letting him guide you out the door -you hissed at the little light you did see, almost instinctively squeezing your eyes shut.

"Sorry, love," he spoke, soft and gentle, "-can't control the sun for you."

"You could block it," you remarked, "-god made your shoulders insanely broad for a reason."

He laughed, moving in his place so less light shone on you -hands moving to hold your face (tilting the wound into the light), "You think my shoulders are broad, then?"

"Duh," you responded, something in your head woozy -you stumbled a little in place.

"Shit," he reacted, hands smoothing to your shoulders, holding you up, "-Can you 'ear me? Stay fuckin' awake, yeah?"

"Okay," you blinked heavily, trying to see him clearly.

When you did, he stood there eyes desperately searching yours -looking at you, concerned. They scattered all over you, settling on the split on your head for a bit too long -it was still pounding in your head, made you flinch a little.

"Do you think-" you started, "-Do you think I need a hospital?"

"No," Tangerine breathed out, fingers dusting along your wound, "-just need someone to watch ya overnight. And to clean you up a bit."

"Wouldn't..." you echoed, "-Wouldn't a hospital do that?"

Tangerine met your eyes, his lips quirking into a smile (just barely), "You think you're fuckin' funny, yeah?"

"I'm just making a point," you deflected.

"Just-" he sighed out, before connecting your eyes again, "-let me help you. I want to, yeah? I really fuckin' want to."

"Okay," you echoed out, relaxing into his touch -relaxing finally, "-fine."

"Good," he tsked, and without hesitation wrapped his fingers around your wrist, "-now, let's get out of 'ere, shall we?"

You did so, eyes squeezed shut tight because all the light did was hurt. But Tangerine soothed you, hand still on your wrist, ("Close your eyes if it hurts, love, I've got you.") and guided you along, even sitting you down in the car and pulling the seat belt along your body.

"You know I could do that myself, right?" You spoke, eyes squinted open -the car was much darker.

He didn't dignify you with a response, sliding into your side and shutting the door behind himself. He silently settled into the seat beside you, like the passenger seat was taken. Which it decidedly was not.

His blue eyes kept darting to you, and you could feel his leg pressed against yours.

"You know that I'm fine, Tangerine," you exhaled, looking to him, "-don't you?"

He didn't respond, so you continued.

"You looked at my wound, I'm alright-" you laughed a little, "-I can sit in the backseat by myself."

Tangerine seemed to think for a second, before speaking decidedly, "If you go to fuckin' sleep, love, you won't wake up. I'm 'ere to keep you awake."

You could feel his breath fan over your face, and you swallowed. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as your eyes stayed on his (blue, blue-). With another intake of breath, you snapped them away -eagerly looking out the window.

Well, you thought to yourself, you're doing a really good job, Tangerine.

The city blurred by, as it made way to more familiar silhouettes but not... not yours. Not ones near your home.

"Um," you spoke, particularly to Lemon (who was driving) "-are we not going... home?"

"You serious, love?" Tangerine offered, blue eyes decidedly matching yours.

"Are we not-"

Lemon interrupted -catching your eye in the mirror, "You were kidnapped, mate. Do you not remember 'at?"

"No, I do," you huffed out, eyes dashing between the two of them, "-they didn't get me at home though, they got me off the street."

"Doesn't mean anythin'," Tangerine countered, jaw twitching ever so slightly -he really didn't like talking about them, "-'Ey 'ave eyes on your home, 's how they made the connection to us."

"Tangerine-"

"He's got a point," Lemon responded, fingers tapping along the wheel, "-takes too much effort to prove 'im wrong, trust me."

"Lemon-"

"Why do you even want to go home, love?" Tangerine interrupted, eyebrows furrowed -genuine curiosity.

"Because it's my home," you reiterated, "-it's familiar. I know you guys may have forgotten the feeling, but it... it would make me feel a lot better to be home."

Tangerine sighed, a deep heavy sigh, "How about a compromise?"

You pursed your lips, eyes flickering across his face (god, was he pretty), "I'm listening."

"We stay at the hotel a few nights until they cool off," he offered, "-and then, you can go home."

You sighed out in relief.

"But," Tangerine clarified, "-me and Lemon need to stay with you for a while. There's not a fuckin' chance you're goin' alone after this. Especially so soon."

"What so-" you started, "-you guys are going to constantly be around me? I have work, and I... I need to get groceries-"

"We 'ave to be, love," Tangerine spoke in almost a whisper, soft, "-these people, they're not goin' to be as fuckin' nice next time. Lemon and I know 'at."

Right, you thought to yourself, mysterious jobs. They've probably done something like this before.

You involuntary shuddered, thinking about the darkness and the gun and your life-

Tangerine looked at you, eyes darting around your face -a slosh of concern sliding over his features, flickering in his eyes. It was no wonder those thoughts had come to the forefront of your mind, he was so protective of you. There's only so much you can resist feelings for someone who so very much values your life.

A handsome someone, your mind tsked.

Before he could open his mouth though, you turned your head back to the window. A familiar swirl bubbled into your stomach, you couldn't chance looking at him. Afterall, getting flustered with him was surely a dead giveaway and there was no way in hell Tangerine felt anything remotely the same.

And that was plain embarrassing.

You felt suddenly like you were in school again, and were crushing on a jock -that never even looked your way. It felt pretty hopeless, and even though it did, it didn't stop you from going to every game -just to pretend for a little while.

Was that what patching him up was? Your own sort of way to be close to him, to pretend for a moment that everything was different.

Shit, you thought, that is embarrassing.

Luckily, you severely doubted Tangerine would ever know. You were pretty good at keeping secrets. Hence, well, the whole reason you were even here in the first place -you regularly housed assassins.

It took only a few minutes after that (feeling blue eyes boring into your side the whole time) when Lemon pulled into a parking spot and you arrived at the hotel. Lucky for you, it was far from a dingy old place on the side of the road.

This place was way above your paygrade. You had never even dreamed of living such a luxury; all golden accents and marble floors. You hardly even knew this place existed in your city.

"I take it back," you whispered to Tangerine, as Lemon strode up to the front desk to request a room change, "-we can stay here forever."

You saw the woman point to you, clearly in concern and you suddenly remembered the wound on your head. Your fingers smoothed along it, and you grimaced, Lemon seemed to come up with some sort of explanation, though. And she promptly looked away.

Tangerine laughed at your words, a quiet little chuckle, and fell rather silent. You peered over at him, wondering why he hadn't said anything back; and when you did, he seemed to be stealing little looks at you -silently fidgeting with his rings.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment, debating asking him about it.

Before you could, he opened his mouth to say something -eyes lingering on your face, like he was trying to memorize it (something in your chest fluttered), "Love, I-"

"Sorry, mates," Lemon interrupted, eyes dashing between the two of you for a moment, "-rooms are booked tonight. Lady says we can try again tomorrow but she doubts it'll 'ave changed."

"So," you swallowed, "-just two bedrooms?"

"Yep," Lemon popped the p, "-and hate to say it, but I'm gettin' one by myself. You lot can figure the rest of 'at out yourselves."

Something was gleaming there in his eye -something mischievous; you frowned -heartbeat stuttering in your chest.

Maybe there's a couch, your mind chimed -a little patheticly.

As fate would have it, there was. And an entire kitchen and living space -an expensive kitchen and living space. You were truly floored by this place.

"This is a hotel, right?" you questioned, eyes lingering on the high ceilings (you decidedly did not have those).

"For rich blokes," Lemon clarified, "-the kinds 'at hate to 'ave anythin' besides luxury."

You spun around, eyes darting between the two of them, "Like you two?"

Tangerine frowned, and Lemon snorted -disappearing off into the kitchen; leaving just you and Tangerine alone in the living space. That being said, each room was actually divided, with no open concept -just archways.

You slung yourself onto the couch, inelegantly (but when were you ever elegant) and were pleased to find it felt like clouds, "Why, if you could pay for this, did you ever come to my apartment? They probably have an on-staff nurse you could page, good god-"

"Eh," Tangerine mended, voice calm and confident, "-like the company better 'ere."

You smiled to yourself, small and quiet, heart fluttering in your chest. You are not making this easy, fruit man.

You cleared your throat, about to shift the subject because you frankly could not address the fondness in his eyes. Instead, Lemon came to your rescue with a smile.

"Well," he spoke, "-I'm fuckin' exhausted, I'm off to bed. If you need anythin', ask Tangerine."

And then, with that, he left -disappearing behind one of the doors down into the hallway.

"You can't sleep," Tangerine said suddenly, "-your head... We've got to get you to a doctor in the mornin', so they can look at it."

"Why not tonight?"

"I truly fuckin' doubt anyone of credit would be open this late," he explained, sauntering up to your side and sitting down (when he had the whole couch).

"Tangerine," you spoke, "-the emergency room doesn't just... close."

"I just," he sighed out, leaning back into the couch "-I want you safe for tonight, yeah?"

"I doubt they'd show up to a hospital," you reasoned, weighing your words.

Tangerine frowned.

"Look, I just-" you paused, "-you don't have to be on watch duty. You need sleep. Just take me to the ER, and I'll-"

He scoffed, repeating, "There's no fuckin' way you're going alone, love."

Swiping the keys off one of the tables near the door and shooting Lemon a text, he grabbed your hand and guided you outside.

The night was a surprisingly quick one, as you were taken into the ER and looked at. They quickly bandaged and stitched your wound, even sending you in to get your brain looked at. Tangerine was dutifully by your side, all night, even when they told you they'd rather keep an eye on you tonight. Something along the lines of what Tangerine said, keeping you awake.

He did, however, end up getting some sleep -slouched over in a hospital chair. One of those plastic ones that really could not be comfortable, and you knew his back would ache in the morning. But when you asked him to, he straight refused to leave ("No fuckin' way, love"); so, you were sort of glad he had gotten some sleep after all.

Then, the next morning, they set you on your way. Quickly reminding your husband (it was the only way Tangerine could stay overnight) of all the bandage changes and consistent eye he should keep on you; he seemed rather serious when listening -eyes intent, and almost as if he could, he would take out a notepad and write each thing down extensively.

You were touched, something in your chest swirling widely.

Was this how he felt when you took care of him?

Well, you sort of doubted so, because they were different circumstances. Despite the closeness and the fingertips on the skin, it was less protective and more domestic. Something very different in the closeness there, and the presence of him now.

Even now, as you leaned onto the couch, scrolling through channels -you felt his eyes solidly on you.

"Tangerine," you tsked, bandage smoothed across your head, "-I'm fine."

He blinked, as your eyes swam over his face and a pink dusted along his cheeks, "That's not what I- I was just... just lookin', love."

You furrowed your eyebrows, curious, tilting your head, "Why?"

Tangerine paused, blue eyes bubbling along your skin -like he was considering his answer, or maybe deciding on one. You thought for a second that he wasn't going to say anything -wordless, as always.

"Need to change your bandage," he deflected, getting up, grabbing some supplies, and roaming over to you on the couch.

You groaned, leaning your head back against the cushions -so soft and cloudlike that you almost couldn't stay frustrated, "We just did that."

"'At was yesterday, love," Tangerine hummed, smiling ever-so-slightly, "-the doctors said-"

"The doctors said," you mocked his accent, shaking your head with the words, "-spare me the speech this time, Tan."

He smirked, face so close to yours now (peeling the old one off, rough fingertips dusting along your forehead), "Fuckin' argumentative today, yeah?"

You swallowed, eyes darting between his -back and forth, responding shortly, "Maybe."

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at the quickness of your response, dabbing at the wound quickly -cleaning it. He was gentle, with tiny little movements; it was hard to imagine these were the same hands that hurt others. He was so soft with your wound, why-

"You alright, love?"

He was a breath away, blue eyes (upon finishing the bandaging) matching yours, intensely. Tangerine just had an intense stare, like you simply held the world in your hands. It was like he didn't blink, even though you knew he did.

You swallowed, for a moment, eyes dashing along his face -it really was totally unfair. Your cheeks grew a little hot at the closeness, you saw his eyes dart to it -eyebrows furrowing together.

Good god, it really was like high-school again.

"What, yeah-" you laughed, awkwardly -eyes darting away from him, "-why would I not be?"

Tangerine hummed in thought for a second, and you could nearly hear the gears in his head turning, "Love... you're actin' really fuckin' odd right now."

You fidgeted with your fingers, watching them in your lap -you couldn't think straight right now. This was all new in your brain, and when was the last time you had feelings for someone-

"I'm not," you answered, finally -a bit like a toddler who was getting in trouble but the meaning all the same.

He sighed out a breath, seeming to settle on something and you could almost feel his eyeroll.

And without another second, you felt his fingers on your chin. Rough fingertips brushed against it, as he tilted you back to face him.

You blinked.

His blue eyes flickered along your face, slow and tedious, "You know you're safe with me, yeah?"

"Tangerine," you exhaled.

"I'd-" he started, eyes dipping away before coming back to yours -so genuine, "-I'd save you without the deal, you know 'at? Anytime, anywhere-"

"Tangerine, that's not-" you faltered, he was so broken open, vulnerable, to you right now. Something in your chest heavy, and your heart ready to spill on your tongue.

"I'd shoot 'im over and over again if it made ya feel safe, love," he continued, fingertip brushing along your skin like he was cradling your face, "-I'm sorry I ever let 'im put a fuckin' hand on you, you 'ave to know 'at."

"Tangerine," you sighed out, soft, "-That's not your fault."

"It is."

"Tangerine-"

"You're afraid now, aren't you?" He echoed out, a soft sort of whisper but filled with intent, "-How does 'at not mean I'm responsible? I never should've-"

"Tangerine!" You exclaimed, resorting to using your hands to cup his face -bringing him back down to earth, "-I'm not... afraid."

He paused.

"Well, yeah, I am, but it's not-" you tsked, before sighing, "-I know you'll keep me safe. I don't know how I know, I just... do."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Then why-"

And then, as normal, your brain stopped functioning, words coming out before you could think them over, "You're very pretty."

He opened his mouth, a smirk smoothing onto his lips. You didn't let him continue.

"And I'm not immune to a pretty man caring about my well-being," you clarified, swallowing -somehow maintaining eye contact, "-I'm not... good at handling it."

"You're..." he started, a quirk of a smile on his lips (not that you were looking), "You're fuckin' flustered, love?"

"Mortifyingly embarrassed," you corrected, your voice squeaked out.

Tangerine laughed a little, "Ya sure you didn't hit your head too hard?"

"Ha ha, laugh it up, mustache," you responded, rolling your eyes -much more comfortable. The banter was easy.

"Well," he tsked, and you were suddenly very aware of how close his face is to yours, "-you apparently fuckin' like it, love. What's 'at say about you?"

You swallowed, "Didn't say it doesn't suit you."

"Hmm," he hummed, and there was a flicker of something in his eye -mischievous, "-guess not."

"Nope," you popped the p -awkwardly. Your eyes darting between his frantically, you felt something building in the air a moment -heavy as your eyes sat on his, and his on yours.

It was almost as if, a look, one glance held your entire being in the balance.

"I think you're quite pretty too, ya know," he echoed out, low and gravelly -you could feel his breaths scattered across your face. He was suddenly very close to you again, the fuzziness that banter provided snatched away.

Something twisted in the bottom of your stomach, as you opened your mouth -letting out a very quiet, "Thank you."

He seemed to take those words, just absorb them in the heavy silence that had bestowed upon the room. There was a part of you that wished Lemon was still here, that he could pull you apart but he left early that morning. And now, here you were, and all you could think about was his lips and that stupid fucking mustache-

You blinked, clearing the fog, and clearing your throat -backing up and standing to your feet.

Tangerine slowly came to the realization, the haze drifting out of his eyes, as they came to default onto yours -still intense but not as close. You could handle this.

"Anyway," you bit your lip, "-I'm kind of starved, do you... want anything?"

"Do I fuckin' want anythin'," he mumbled to himself for a moment -hands carefully putting the old bandage on the table and arranging all of the supplies so they wouldn't fall off.

And with a slow measured breath, he rose to his feet -steps teetering closer to you. His hands found solace in his hair as he rifled it up a bit, and on the cuff of his shirt -you saw a little blood. Was that from you? From your bandage-

"I've got somethin' in mind," he finally said, a little distant from you, but nothing like before (maybe just a few steps away from the closeness of the couch).

"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, but it still felt dry, "-what do you... want? I think we've got like some... fancy tortilla chips and salsa, which... is a good one, or-"

He laughed a deep sort of low chuckle, erasing those steps you talked about before. You swallowed, words trailing off; there was a little spark in his eye when he noticed that you had -pride.

"You are really un-fuckin'-believable, you know 'at, love?"

"I think you've told me before."

He laughed at that, shaking his head, and you felt the breaths of each one scattered along your face -brushing onto your lips. You snapped your mouth closed at the thought.

Deep breaths, you thought to yourself, deep, deep breaths. You can do this.

Tangerine grew rather silent, before words seemed to bubble out of him without thinking, "You."

"What?"

"I want you, love," he clarified, "-in particular, I'd really love to fuckin' kiss ya right now, is 'at alright?"

"I didn't think you were the type to ask," you quipped, before you could really think about it, again.

He furrowed his eyebrows, a bit in defense.

"No, I mean-" you scrambled for a minute, "-you feel like the kinda guy that does it-"

"It?"

"-in like an emotional rush. You know? Like no words, just... just..."

Tangerine sighed, but you could see the quirk of a smile on his lips -you hadn't scared him off yet apparently.

"Sorry," you squeaked out, and you definitely saw a smile smooth across his lips.

"I'm fuckin' askin' ya, love. Say yes or no, yeah?"

"Yes," it came out in a rush of breath, a little like it clawed up your throat with desperation, "-yes."

Tangerine didn't hesitate a second longer, pushing forward with a force unmatched -big hands coming to cup your face at the hinge of your jaw. It was desperate, almost like he'd been waiting to do this awhile and the idea of that, made your breath catch.

You briefly wondered when it started, before he pushed into you further -hands righting themselves just below your ears on the back of your neck. He made you bump into the wall behind you. Tangerine promptly swallowed your squeak at the sensation, as easy as breathing.

Of course he was good at kissing too, your mind chimed, so unfair.

And then a more coy voice spoke up, but hey, he does want to kiss you though, I'd count that as a win.

Yeah, you decided as his mustache scratched ever so slightly at your upper lip and his hands dropped to your waist, definitely a win.

He pulled back a moment, breaths ragged and slow -eyes darting over yours, "Was good, yeah?"

You decidedly didn't answer him, pushing forward to kiss him again -this time a little slower, less rushed. He was just as slow, fingers holding your waist just slightly tighter like he didn't want you to leave.

Why the hell would I leave?

Tangerine was the one to part that time too, eyes slow to open like the kiss had affected him just as much. Your heart beat a little faster at that.

"Take that as a yes, yeah?"

"Oh, definitely," you laughed, hands coming to rest between his chest and shoulders.

He's strong too, your mind unwillingly retorted.

He didn't move, like he was simply absorbing your breaths and to be fair, you were pretty sure you were doing the same. He was nearly panting after all.

Words slipped out before you could stop them, "When I told you to borrow sugar, this was not what I was expecting."

Tangerine paused for a moment, gears working. Before his face flickered into something of annoyance, frown so prominent.

"Good god, fuckin' shut up, love."

"Make me," you offered, laughing.

And he certainly did.

#tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tan's things #borrow some sugar

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thejoyofseax · 10 months

Text

Why We Can't Have Medieval Food

I noted in a previous post that I'd "expand on my thinking on efforts to reproduce period food and how we’re just never going to know if we have it right or not." Well, now I have 2am sleep?-never-heard-of-it insomnia, so let's go.

At the fundamental level, this is the idea that you can't step in the same river twice. You can put your foot down at the same point in space, and it'll go into water, but that's different water, and the bed of the river has inevitably changed, even a little, from the last time you did so.

Our ingredients have changed. This is not just because we can't get the fat from fat-tailed sheep in Ireland, or silphium at all anywhere, although both of those are true. But the aubergine you buy today is markedly different to the aubergine that was available even 40 years ago. You no longer need to salt aubergine slices and draw out the bitter fluids, which was necessary for pretty much all of the thing's existence before (except in those cultures that liked the bitter taste). The bitterness has been bred out of them. And the old bitter aubergine is gone. Possibly there are a few plants of it preserved in some archive garden, or a seed bank, or something, but I can't get to those.

We don't really have a good idea of the plant called worts in medieval English recipes. I mean, we know (or we're fairly sure) it was brassica oleracea. But that one species has cultivars as distinct as cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, kale, Brussels sprouts, collard greens, Savoy cabbage, kohlrabi, and gai lan (list swiped from Wikipedia). And even within "cabbage" or "kale", you have literally dozens of varieties. If you plant the seeds from a brassica, unless you've been moderately careful with pollination, you won't get the same plant as the seeds are from. You can crossbreed brassicas just by planting them near each other and letting them flower. And of course there is no way to determine what varietal any medieval village had, a very high likelihood that it was different to the village next door, and an exceedingly high chance that that varietal no longer exists. Further, it only ever existed for a few tens of years - before it went on cross-breeding into something different. So our access to medieval worts (or indeed, cabbage, kale, etc) is just non-existant.

Some other species within the brassica genus are as varied. Brassica rapa includes oilseed rape, field mustard, turnip, Chinese cabbage, and pak choi.

We have an off-chance, as it happens, of getting almost the same kind of apple as some medieval varieties, because apples can only be reproduced for orchard use by grafting, which is essentially cloning. Identification through paintings, DNA analysis, and archaeobotany sometimes let us pin down exactly which apple was there. But the conditions under which we grow those apples are probably not the same as the medieval orchard. Were they thinned? When were they harvested? How were they stored? And apples are pretty much the best case.

Medieval wheat was practically a different plant. It was far pickier about where it would grow, and frequently produced 2-4 grains per stalk. A really good year had 6-8. In modern conditions, any wheat variety with less than 30 grains per stalk would be considered a flop.

Meats are worse. Selective breeding in the last century has absolutely and completely changed every single species of livestock, and if you follow that back another five centuries, some of them would be almost unrecognisable. Even our heritage breeds are mostly only about 200 years old.

Cheese, well. Cheese is dependent on very specific bacteria, and there are plenty of conditions where the resulting cheese is different depending on whether it was stored at the back or front of the cave. Yogurts, quarks, skyrs, etc, are also live cultures, and almost certainly vary massively. (I have a theory about British cheese here, too, which I'll expand on in a future post)

So, even before you go near the different cooking conditions (wood, burnables like camel and cow dung, smoke, the material and condition of cooking pots), we just can't say with any reliability that the food we're making now is anything like medieval people produced from the same recipe. We can't even say that with much reliability over a century.

Under very controlled conditions, you could make an argument for very specific dishes. If you track down a wild mountain sheep in Afghanistan, and use water from a local spring, and salt from some local salt mine, then you can make a case that you can produce something fairly close to the original ma wa milh, the water-and-salt stew that forms the most basic dish in Arabic cookery. But once you start introducing domestic livestock, vegetables, or even water from newer wells, you're now adrift.

It is possible that some dishes taste exactly the same, by coincidence. But we can't determine that. We can't compare the taste of a dish from five years ago, let alone five hundred, because we're only just getting to a state where we can "record" a taste accurately. Otherwise it's memory and chance.

We've got to be at peace with this. We can put in the best efforts we can, and produce things that are, in spirit, like the medieval dishes we're reading about. But that's as good as it gets.

#medieval cookery #medieval cooking #food history #historical cookery #historical cuisine #medieval arabic cookery #horticulture #genetics

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enchantedbarnes · 1 year

Text

Uncle Buck Returns

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Summary: Our little menace of a nephew has secured a date for you. Here is part 2 to Uncle Buck.

Word Count: 1401

Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five

A/N: what in the actual f👀 is going on 😅 I was expecting maybe 10 or so people to read Uncle Buck. My notifications haven't stopped going off since I posted. Thank you so much everyone that read it and enjoyed it. I hope you also enjoy this little continuation. P.S. GIF replies are my love language so if you enjoy send me your best (or worst 😈) 🫶

As soon as the pair returned home and walked through the front door, Benji skipped his way in shouting, "MAWWAGE! MAWWAGE IS WHAT BWINGS US TOGEVAH TODAYYYY!" Arms high above him as he rushes through the living room in search of his parents.

"Benji, please don't make me regret letting you watch my favorite movie," you sigh, flopping onto the couch, hands covering your face.

He stopped short and looked back at you, "Have you the wing?" He bowed and giggled then turned back around to continue on with his search.

"You're back!" Your sister shouted while she snatched Benji up into her arms, covering the small boy in kisses. "Did you have so much fun with Auntie today? Why are we shouting Princess Bride quotes?" She gasps, "Did you get to meet the dread pirate Roberts??"

Benji looks up at her in confusion, "What? No Mom, we saw Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson! And guess WHAT!"

"Ohhh, what?!"

He whispers into her ear and throws his head back laughing like a tiny evil madman.

"You did what???!" She laughs.

You groan from the couch.

She walks both of them over to you.

"Did I understand him correctly, is there something we should know? Are you betrothed to a super soldier?"

"I'm gonna go throw up," you groaned again.

Sweating doesn't even begin to cover it.

Your entire body feels like it's on fire.

You agreed to meet Bucky for a late lunch the following day. You've been sitting on the floor by your closet for what you thought was 30 minutes now, staring into the clothing abyss, spiraling into an internal panic.

You don't go on dates. You keep to yourself. It's comfortable. Living in a combined household with your sister and her small family you're certainly never alone.

What are you even supposed to talk about?

Your current job is nothing super exciting to talk about. You do like to go to concerts and musicals... However you can't really imagine the 106-year-old super soldier going to a pop punk or metal show, nor do you imagine him attending Wicked 3 times. Note to self: do not bring up Rogers the musical. Yikes.

Your sister has already talked you off a ledge 3 times since last night when you got home.

While still wallowing in self pity and loathing, two outfits are scattered by you and you have three more in your arms.

Your sister walks by your open door and backtracks peering in.

"Y/n," she sighs, "just wear the first outfit. You'll look great, I promise." She walks over and grabs the armful of clothes from you, dumping them on the bed and grabbing the first outfit. Your favorite pair of black jeans and a sweater you bought specifically because it was so damn soft.

The doorbell rings and your eyes widen. "He's early?!"

"He's on time, you would have noticed if you weren't staring into space for the last hour."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't worry we'll keep him distracted while you finish getting ready."

"Oh sure, don't worry. That fills me with all the confidence..."

"Benji has already asked him to marry you, what's the worst that could happen now?"

"I don't even want to think about the answer to that. So many possibilities come to mind."

You grab your outfit and start rushing around.

"Can I get you something to drink, Bucky?" Your sister asks while she moves about the room.

Bucky and Benji are seated at the kitchen table, just off from the living room. Benji is across from him with his tiny arms crossed on the table, and a very serious look on his face.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Ok, I'm sure she'll be down in just a moment. Make yourself at home. Hopefully we will see you around again soon," she smiles, "I'm just gonna go switch the laundry over quickly. Benji," she looks down at him while pointing two fingers at her eyes and then over to him, "behave yourself," she warns while leaving the room.

The table stare down continues.

"Where do you live?" Benji asks.

"In the city," Bucky answers.

"You have a house?" Benji fires back.

"Apartment."

"Own or rent?"

"Rent."

"Where’s your office?"

"I don’t have one."

"How come?"

"I don’t need one."

"Where’s your wife?"

"Don’t have one.."

"Yet," Benji squints with a tiny smirk, "but how come?"

"It's a long story."

"You have kids?"

"No I don’t."

"How come?"

"It's an even longer story."

"Do you prefer dogs or cats?"

"Both are fine."

"Do you have one?"

"I have a cat. Names Alpine."

"Is Steve Rogers really on the moon?"

"What's your record for consecutive questions asked?"

"38."

"He's up there all right." Bucky answers with a nod.

"Your metal arm and regular arm match well with how ginormous your muscles are."

"How nice of you to notice."

"I’m a kid, that’s my job."

Bucky raises a brow, "Why am I getting the 3rd degree here?"

"Just checking in on my investments. If this didn't work I was going to ask our neighbor Frank, but he kind of sucks," Benji shrugs his shoulders.

Before Bucky can question the language and what the 8-year-old said, you walk into the kitchen and quickly look back and forth between the two of them.

"Oh no, how long have you two been alone in here?? What did he say?" You ask Bucky, looking over at Benji quickly after, "What did you say??" Your eyes narrow.

Benji grins and holds your purse up for you. "Have fun storming the castle," he cheekily smiles with that glint in his eyes.

"Benji," you glare down at him.

Bucky clears his throat while standing up from the table. Walking over to you he points to a small bouquet of flowers that were already in a vase waiting on the kitchen table, "Um, these are for you…" he smiles.

"Thank you so much, they're beautiful," your reply is breathless while you look at the arrangement filled with a small mix of your favorites.

"He also gave me this," Benji holds up an RC truck with a Captain America shield painted on the side.

"That was very nice of him, did you say thank you?"

"Duh," he rolled his eyes while grabbing the remote to the car and rolling it out to the living room, "Thanks Future-Uncle Bucky," he grins and chases after it.

"Anyone ever tell you guys he's kind of a strange kid?" Bucky whispers conspiratorially while offering his arm to you.

You throw your head back with a quick laugh. "Oh, you have no idea."

Your date is going better than you expected.

You have managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself so far and both of you seemed to be enjoying your time together.

You have apologized multiple times for Benji's antics.

Bucky laughed, "He reminds me a bit of a young Steve and my sister Rebecca combined. Didn't realize that combo was possible, it's a little terrifying. I hope they have great medical insurance," he jokes.

"His father's a nurse, so we have in-house medical on demand. My sister tried to convince me to go to law school so someone can represent him when he undoubtedly tries to take over the world. Guess I can save some money and time on law school now that we have a super soldier plus a Captain America connection that can potentially stop him before lawyers need to be involved."

"Your sister already welcomed me to the family when she opened the door to let me in," he smirks.

You put your face in your hands, elbows leaning against the table in support.

"Well now you know where her small menace gets it from."

Bucky helps pull your chair out for you as you're both about to leave. As you stand up your purse falls off the back of your chair, spilling some of its contents on the floor when it lands.

Bucky ducked down to help collect your things when something shiny appeared next to your chapstick. His eyebrows furrow as he picks both up and holds them up to you.

You let out a slightly strangled cough as you realized what he was holding up to you.

Bucky Barnes was kneeling holding up your peppermint chapstick and your Grandmother's opal ring that was supposed to be safely in your jewelry box at home.

...Benjamin!

@pono-pura-vida @bitchy-bi-trash @random-writer-23 @jvanilly @clintsupremacy @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

Next: Part 3 Lord of the Pins

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #uncle buck #uncle buck fic

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 4 months

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I understand the criticisms people have about season 2, I really do. I have my own genuine complaints. But, frankly? I feel like we can pick this show apart too much. I don't expect any piece of media I consume to be perfect so I sure as hell think I should be able to extend my favorite show a little grace.

Literally every problem I have with s2 is almost certainly down to the fact that they had to work with a 40% budget cut and had to keep every episode strictly under 30 minutes (whereas in s1 longer episodes had some breathing room). It's very obvious to me that the writers of this show did their absolute level best to do their story justice with what they had. And at the end of the day, my biggest complaint is always that I wish they had more - more time, more episodes. That's a pretty nice thing, really, that the worst I can say about something is that I wish I had more of it.

Like I said, I get the criticism, I really do! I'm not saying any show is above critique. But I'm also not exaggerating when I say that this show as a whole is the best thing I've seen on TV in a long, long time. I can't make myself care much that s2 was a bit messier than I'd have liked when I think it still runs circles around everything else. And, as if the fact we got s2 at all wasn't enough, they made sure Ed and Stede's story never really suffered for the budget cuts, and they made sure that we ended the season with Ed and Stede in a good, satisfying place. If you haven't watched it since it was airing I couldn't recommend enough watching it again without the week-long breaks and all the fandom speculation and craziness in between; the pacing feels soooo much better that way. I love it even more with every rewatch. We complain a lot in fandom spaces but almost everyone I know irl who watch it casually think s2 was better than s1.

I love this show so much. I'm so glad we've got it and for every bit of hate I see about s2 I'm just gonna love it even harder, because even when it's messy it's the most earnest, heartfelt thing out there and I appreciate the fuck out of it for that.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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skzstannie · 4 months

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“And I’m Willow!”

SKZ-> Han Jisung x single mom! Reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers wc: ~2,100 cw: brief descriptions of the death of a parent, child goes missing (just for a second), 4 year olds can be menaces

summary: you’re outgoing 4 year old daughter turns out to be quite the wingman

A/N: Here’s the Han fic, as promised! Going to make this into a mini series, soooo Parts 2/3 will be out eventually. Give this post some love if you enjoyed it; likes/reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Momma, can we get these please?" your daughter whines, shoving a box of tissues in your face.

You snort, "Now why do you want tissues, Willow?"

"You're always crying over those stupid boys on T.V," she answers, distracted by the little bracelet she has tied around her wrist.

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, mumbling out an apology when the elderly couple next to you glances your way. You quickly make your way out of the aisle, praying your daughter will hold her comments 'til you get to an empty one.

Your daughter is the light of your life. She is always so happy and giggly, and she easily becomes the center of attention every time she walks in a room. You love the way she is so carefree, not caring about what anyone thinks of her. While she may only be four, this is certainly a characteristic you wish you had.

"Willow," you chuckle once you're tucked safely away in an empty aisle, "You can't just say things like that in front of other people."

"Why?"

"Because Mommy gets embarrassed easily."

"Why?"

"Because other people don't need to know about our business."

"Why?"

You stop replying, realizing how silly it looks to be arguing with your four year old daughter, and continue shopping.

You push the cart down the next aisle, Willow still sat comfortably in the seat at the front. Suddenly, you bring the cart to a screeching halt. Your eyes lock on the beautiful man stood in front of you, and it's like everything else around you disappears.

Willow lets out an adorable squeak, exaggeratedly lurching forward from the abrupt stopping of the cart. "What was that for, Mommy?" She pouts, her chubby arms crossing over her chest.

You've forgotten how to breathe, and her question goes in one ear and out the other.

Willow, as inpatient as ever, whips her head around, her eyes finding the man you've been ogling for an inappropriate amount of time.

"Mommy, why are you staring at that man?"

The question brings you back to reality, and your cheeks redden when the man in question looks over at you, a teasing smile on his face.

Completely embarrassed now, you whip the cart around, almost taking it on two wheels, and practically sprint to the next aisle.

"Willow," you hiss quietly, your adrenaline pumping at full speed, "Remember what I said? We don't talk about other people in public. It's rude." You run your fingers through her silky hair, making sure she's taking in and understanding your words.

"But whyyy?"

You huff and take a moment to gather yourself, mindlessly staring off at the seasonings stacked in front of you. It's pointless to answer, knowing exactly what she'll say back almost every time.

You're erratic heartbeat has calmed now, and you continue to go about your shopping, grabbing a bottle of ketchup off the shelf. You look down at your phone, crossing it off your list.

In a house with a toddler, you can never have enough ketchup.

You scroll through your list for a moment, but are quickly interrupted by a small tug at your sweatshirt sleeve.

"Mommy?" her small voice perks up, and you're almost too scared to ask.

"Yes, baby?" You're mind is full of random things she might say, and you mentally prepare for something wild to come out of her mouth.

"I have to use the bathroom," she whispers, apparently gaining an awareness of social cues that she lacked 30 seconds prior.

"Ok, I'll take you." You put your phone back in your pocket and make your way to the bathroom at the back of the store. You leave your cart outside the restroom and take Willow out of it. You lead her into the bigger stall by the hand, locking the door behind you guys. She does her business, and you help her to wash her hands.

Walking out of the bathroom, your brows furrow seeing your cart missing.

"What kind of an asshole takes someone's cart?" you whisper to yourself, your eyes scanning the aisles within sight.

You walk down each aisle, your eyes peering in everyone's carts.

Somewhere around the fifth aisle, your hand reaches down to find Willow's hand, but you're met with nothing but air. Your eyes dart down beside you, and you immediately panic when you're little mini-me is nowhere to be found.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes wide as saucers. You race up and down the aisles, searching for your daughter, manners slipping your mind as you bump into people left and right. The aisles are crowded, and you're daughter could be anywhere.

You get to the candy aisle, and you're finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. There your daughter stands, a bag of ripped open M&Ms in hand. Your eyes wander over to the person crouched down next to her, and your pulse quickens once again.

Of course, out of everyone in the whole store, this is who your daughter would go up to.

You stalk over to them, a pink tint once again gracing your cheekbones. As you get closer, your daughter's excited voice falls over your ears.

"And then she started crying when the other guy came back on the T.V," she explains animatedly to the handsome stranger.

"Willow," you say, your tone stern. "You cannot walk away from Mommy in stores." You grab her little hand in yours, pulling her towards you 'til she's in front of you. You crouch down, your eyes level with hers.

Her little expression drops, her bottom lip wobbling. "I'm sorry," she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes.

"It's ok, baby, you just can't wander off like that. Somebody could take you away from Mommy," you explain tenderly, using the sleeves of your sweatshirt to gently dry her cheeks.

"I just wanted some chocolate, and then I saw the pretty man you saw before, and I wanted to be his friend," she tells you innocently. Your attention is brought back to the bag of candy she dropped on the floor and the very handsome stranger picking each up each individual piece.

"Sir," you panic, "You don't have to do that," you quickly take the bag from his hands.

"No no Mommy, it's ok! He's our friend now!"

"Baby, please stop," your eyes remain on the messy floor, all too embarrassed to look at the man. You hurry to pick up all the M&Ms that spilled out of the bag, throwing them back into the package.

"I was just telling him how you thought he was pretty," your jaw drops in shock, "Oh! And how he looks just like the boys you watch on T.V."

The man chuckles, and you gain the courage to look up at him for the first time.

He's even more handsome from up close, if that's even possible, with dark brown hair parted perfectly, the cutest chubby cheeks you've ever seen on a man, and the brightest smile you could possibly imagine.

"I saw her standing here by herself and figured we’d wait here until you found her. She already had the candy before I saw her," he chuckles, bringing his hand to rub at the nape of his neck while his eyes dart between you and Willow.

"I-uh, thank you so much for watching her. We're working on her listening skills, they need a bit of sharpening." The chemistry you feel between the two of you is unfathomable as you ramble on, and your body warms as you feel his gaze on you. "I'm also so sorry for anything she might've told you. She's quite the people-person, and she wants everyone to know everything-" Your daughter cuts you off, an exasperated look covering her freckled face.

"I just thought it was important for him to know you thought he was pretty."

Your face heats up even more, and you bring your hands up to cover your cheeks. "She's trying to kill me."

The man laughs, a fond look taking over his features. "I'm Jisung, it's nice to meet you..." he offers you his hand, a proper greeting finally underway.

"Y/N," you meet his outstretched hand, giving him a firm handshake. He shakes back and delicately pulls you up to your feet with him.

"And I'm Willow!" she yells, jumping up and down, her big doe eyes focused on Jisung.

"Willow is a very beautiful name," he sticks his hand out towards her, and she clumsily takes it in hers, shaking it quickly up and down. "Now, Willow, do you think your mom thinks I'm pretty enough to give me her number?" His attention shifts back to you, and your heart races at the question.

"Huh? What number-" Now it's your turn to interrupt her. You pull her around to face you and gently guide her face into your sweatshirt, effectively cutting her sentence off.

"She just might," you reply, giving him a flirtatious smile.

After exchanging numbers, it's finally time to part ways. He sends you a subtle wink, the feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Bye Mr. Jisung!" Willow says as you practically drag her away.

"Willow, you have to promise me you will not run off like that ever again!" Now out of Jisung's earshot, you freely scold your daughter.

"But Mommy, Mr. Jisung was so nice!" She skips beside you, happiness exuding from every inch of her tiny body.

"I know he was, but you have to stay by Mommy at all times. Promise me you will not run off again," you stop walking, pulling her off to the side of one of the aisles. Your grip on her arm is loose enough to not hurt her, but tight enough to make her know you mean business. "Promise me, Willow."

"I promise, Mommy."

"Ok, good. Now to find that stupid cart."

~ ~ ~

For the remainder of the time you spent at the store, Willow talks your ear off about Jisung. Through the aisles, through the checkout, and even on the car ride home.

"And then, Momma, he told me my bracelet was beautiful. Can you believe it?!" Her words bounce with excitement. "Daddy would've loved Mr. Jisung."

Your heart aches at the mention of her dad. He passed away in an unfortunate car accident a year after she was born. While she may not remember her dad, you have made sure to tell her every single last detail about him.

"Jisung was very nice, wasn't he, baby?" you hum, stopping at a red light.

"Yes! I really like him." You gaze back at her through the rearview mirror. The love you have in your heart for your little girl is an indescribable amount, and you only wish one day she'll truly understand what she means to you.

It's a heavy role having to act as both parental roles, but here you are, making it work day in and day out.

It's hard, but you have to be kind to yourself, reminding yourself that she's happy, healthy, and everything that's good in the world.

"You're a wonderful mom," your husband had told you. You were sat in the rocking chair, feeding your baby girl a warm bottle, and he was sat across from you on the floor, his head resting on your knees.

It's been years now, though, and while he'll always be your first love, it's ok to look for love again, right?

~ ~ ~

"Willow, please stop climbing on the furniture like it's a jungle gym; you're going to get hurt," you tell her from the kitchen, stirring some noodles on the stove.

You hear her hum in agreeance, the T.V turning on seconds later to her favorite cartoon.

You ended up finding your cart earlier at the store. To your dismay, you simply walked out the opposite end of the bathroom, and your cart was only around the corner. You were quick to finish your shopping, wanting to avoid anymore embarrassing interactions.

Spaghetti was the dinner your daughter requested for the night, so you picked up all the ingredients at the store earlier. You have the noodles boiling on one burner, your homemade sauce going on the other, and a couple pieces of garlic bread toasting in the oven.

Your phone dings from the table, and you step away from the stove to tend to it. You scroll through your numerous Instagram messages, your friends all too obsessed with sending you countless reels.

Your cheeks flush at a specific notification hidden among the multitude of social media messages.

from Unknown

Hey Y/N, It's Jisung

I know this may be moving a little quick

But I can't stop thinking about you

Can I take you out this weekend?

Part 2/3 -> coming soon!

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ironstrange1991 · 4 months

Text

Just As Good As I knew It Would Be

Pairing: Defender!Strange x SexWorker!Reader

Synopsis: It was supposed to be just another night with a new client, but Defender Strange was unlike any other and he definitely had other plans.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: Descriptions of sex work, one or two use of the word 'whore', hickeys and lovebites, oral sex with male and female receiving, protected p n v sex.

A/N: This was planned to be a one shot, but I can easily see this story continuing, so it's up to you guys. Also, I was literary falling asleep over my laptop when I posted this so any typos or grammar errors I will fix tomorrow.

When the weight of his body left you and rolled to the side on the bed, you sighed in relief and also turned to the side, taking a cigarette from the package on the bedside table, lighting it and taking a long drag. It was still one o'clock in the morning and you had a client scheduled for 2:30 and before that you needed a long shower to get rid of all the sweat stuck to your skin.

He was a nice guy, plenty of money to spend since he paid for an hour with you almost every week. He was lonely and with the sweat problem you could understand why. You just couldn't remember his name. Andrew? No, Andrew was the one from last night. Nice guy, a little clingy but nice. Would it then be William? Fuck, it didn't matter anyway, you never called them by their names for that very reason.

Madam Elise always said that there was no other way to permanently lose a client than to call them by the wrong name. It's easier to call them all by the same pet name, she always says, and that's what you do. They were all Baby, for you. And they liked it very much.

"I would like you to stay the night with me." He murmured stroking your arm. "I like to think I'm more than just a client to you."

And didn't all of them like to think that way? You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and took another drag from your cigarette.

"You're too good for this job. I can give you the stability you need..."

"Okay, baby, let's get one thing straight once and for all." You interrupted him, putting out your cigarette in the ashtray and getting up. "I'm not interested in a relationship. Certainly not with one of my clients. And I don't need a man to save me from the life I live because, surprise! I like this life.”

He remained silent, watching as you got dressed and when you finished putting on your shoes he stood up, took out his wallet and took out a few hundred bills.

"Baby, I don't deal with money. I thought you had paid at the club."

He nodded "I did. This is extra."

You smirked, taking the money and putting it inside your bag. "You spoil me."

He smiled. "You deserve it, Y/n. When will we see each other again?"

"Madam Elise takes care of my schedule. But from what I know, it's full until next weekend."

He seemed extremely disappointed.

"But I'm sure she can fit you in some night for an extra fee."

"Money is not a problem." He stated cupping your cheek and threatening to kiss you, but you were quick to pull away from him.

"Then I'll see you next week. Take care."

"My driver will take you back to the club." He informed.

"Thanks, baby. Have a good night."

...

Madam Elise was busy taking care of the Absinthe's accounting after the doors closed. It was already past 3am and the girls were leaving. The night had been very profitable, everything had gone normally, without any mishaps and the girls seemed happy.

Throughout her life, Madam Elise worked at night and with her own effort founded the Absinthe Nightclub, which today has the status of the largest and most renowned nightclub in New York City. No less than 25 girls, 12 dancers, 3 singers, and an entire band worked for her, not counting the waiters, bartenders, security guards, secretaries, suppliers and everything else. It was a big business that she commanded with mastery and love.

However, that night, she was tired and could hardly wait to finally leave the place and go home. She was closing the register when Aline, her personal secretary who helps her take care of the girls' schedules, came to her excitedly.

"You won't believe who called asking for Y/n."

"Whoever it is, her schedule is full until the end of next week." Madam Elise answered nonchalantly, but Aline didn't seem any less excited and handed over a sheet of paper with a name and telephone number written on it.

"That's what I told him, but he didn't seem to mind waiting. He asked us to come back with an all-night date."

"A whole night?" Madam Elise asked surprised. "Does he know her price?"

"He mentioned that money is not a problem." Aline responded, smiling as if just talking to the man had already turned her his biggest fan.

"Why Y/n? Did he ask for her specifically or did you recommend her?"

Aline shook her head "He asked for her and only her. It must have been someone else’s recommendation."

"I highly doubt it." That was all Madam Elise responded to Aline's speculation. "Call him tomorrow, schedule him for the night."

Aline looked at her as if she had said the most absurd thing. "Should I reschedule everyone else? They won't be happy."

"No, but they will accept it. Y/n has already captivated them for life. Now a new client like this one..." She stared at the name scribbled on the sheet of paper. "This is a customer we still need to captivate."

Aline nodded, but continued standing there as if she wanted to ask or say something.

"What is it?" Madam Elise asked impatiently.

"Does madam think he will come here?"

"Don't be silly, of course not. A man like him has an image to maintain. She will go to him."

...

When you woke up the next day, the sun was coming in from behind the gaps in the heavy curtains in your room and it was already past 2PM. The routine of sleeping when it was almost dawn and waking up in the middle of the afternoon was the least rewarding part of the job, but it was something you had to get used to.

You had a very chaotic routine, but you couldn't think of another way to live. Your work has provided you with a beautiful apartment and all the luxury you could have dreamed of, and most importantly, freedom.

You didn't depend on anyone but yourself and contrary to what many might think, you didn't feel used. In fact most of the time you felt like a pop star, with men lining up to have a special appointment with you.

After taking a shower and spending a long time on skin care, you went down to have breakfast - which was actually always afternoon coffee - and took the opportunity to take a look at your schedule. There were two new customers you were excited to meet. One of them was a jazz singer, the other was a politician. A deputy, if you weren't mistaken.

"More coffee, ma'am?" Karen, your maid asked gently.

"Yes please."

Karen had been working for you for a little over a year. It was actually Madam Elise's idea for you to have someone to take care of the house and you, but you suspected that Karen also did a second job: spying on you for her. You would be eternally grateful for everything Madam Elise did for you, but sometimes the woman was too controlling and a little scary. Not that you cared, it wasn't like you had anything to hide.

"Karen, remind me again how you met Madame Elise." You asked, still looking through the names on your cell phone’s notepad and taking a bite of your toast.

"It's been so long, dear, I don't even remember exactly, but I think it was a few years a go when I worked at the nightclub" The old woman responded evasively.

"Hmm" You were sure the last time you asked she said they met each other at a job interview and not once she mentioned she worked at the Absinthe.

"Oh, I almost forgot it! Madam Elise called and asked you to call back as soon as you woke up. She said there were changes in your schedule for the night."

"No, come on! I was looking forward to meeting the deputy." You murmured, finishing your coffee and already calling her.

When you arrived at the Absinthe to get ready, it was already past 6PM and you still didn't know who the special client was that made Madam Elise cancel and reschedule everyone else. She refused to speak on the phone and emphasized that you should spend some extra time taking care of yourself because this client deserved the best.

So you took a bubble bath with some special bath salts, were extra careful with your skin care, using your best oils and creams. Your hair, which you had decided to leave loose and straight, you ended up wrapping in curlers and clips so that you could finish it when you arrived at the nightclub, as well as your makeup, which Madam Elise made a point of saying on the phone that she would do herself.

"I don't know why so much suspense." You said as she finished preparing your skin with foundation.

"You'll understand when you get there." She answered.

"How about this one?" Sofia, one of the new girls who worked with you asked, holding a hanger with a very short strapless red dress.

"No. Too much." Madam Elise replied.

"How about this other one?" Sofia asked showing off a long black dress with an extravagant slit.

"Too much, Sofia. What part of elegant and discreet don't you understand?" Madam Elise responded sharply.

"It would help if you say who the client is." Sofia complained.

"That's what I'm trying to find out." You said taking advantage of Sofia's complaint. "Oh, I got it, He is a rockstar, isn’t he? Don't tell me it's Bono!"

Sofia stared at Madam Elise, waiting for an answer.

“It's not Bono. And he's not a rockstar. He's better than that."

"How about this one?" Sofia showed off a rose midi dress that looked like something Kate Middleton would wear to one of her official events.

"Perfect!" Madame Elise exclaimed, finishing applying the third layer of mascara to your eyelashes.

"Please don't say it's the president. He's too old." You whimpered.

"Don't be silly, Y/n." That's all she replied.

"Older men make the best clients." Sofia reflected as she hung the dress on the chair next to you. "They are kind and don't usually last long. Not to mention they pay extras."

"Girl, You're learning fast!" You praised.

"Learning from the best." Sofia said giving you a wink and you two giggled.

"Perfect. Now let's let this hair down." Madam Elise said as she took the clips out of your hair and used a comb to straighten your curls. She finished with a setting spray and only then let you look in the mirror. The whole thing seemed too much to you, but you didnt say anything.

"Now finish getting dressed. A car is waiting for you outside. The driver knows where to drop you off."

"Yes ma'am."

Surprising you, Madam Elise leaned over and gave you a small kiss on the cheek in a rare display of affection.

"Good luck, my darling."

...

When the driver stopped in front of the old building, you couldn't help but think he had gotten the address wrong.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"177A Bleecker Street. That's the exact address Madam Elise gave me. Do you want me to call her to check?"

You shook your head "No. It's okay. Thank you." You said, opening the door and getting out of the car.

"Should I pick you up in an hour?" He asked.

"No. He paid for the night." You informed, closing the door.

You walked up the steps slowly, somewhat intimidated by the oppressiveness of the place and trying to convince yourself that this was really happening, but when you approached the door, it opened on its own and you were overcome with the realization that you were about to spend the night with none other than Defender Strange himself.

As soon as you entered, the door closed behind you and you stood in the empty entrance hall somewhat disconcerted and not knowing what to do next. It took what seemed like an eternity until you were greeted by a baritone voice.

"Hello. I'm sorry, I was sure the woman I talked to this morning told me you would arrive at 9pm" He said going down the stairs and coming towards you. He was dressed exactly as you had seen him on TV or in the newspapers. Black and red robes, boots and hair tied in a ponytail, but gosh, the TV and newspapers didn't do justice to his beauty. Defined jaw, sharp cheekbones, plump lips and beautiful blue eyes. The man was gorgeous.

"I'm sure Madam Elise wouldn't get confused with my schedule. You must have spoken to Aline, her personal secretary." You said, feeling your cheeks turning red from the strange situation and also from the way he glared at you.

"Well, I have no reason to complain if her mistake gave me more time with you." He smirked, extending his hand for you to hold and bringing it to his lips. You knew that if it was any other man doing that you would roll your eyes at how cliché and ridiculous the gesture was, but with him all you could think about was how elegant and gentle he was. He just seemed so calm and kind.

"I'm sure you already know me, but let me formally introduce myself. Doctor Stephen Strange, or how my friends call me, Defender Strange, but you can call me Stephen."

You smiled "It's a pleasure to meet you, Stephen. I'm Y/n, but of course you already know that."

His smile widened "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Y/n." He kept your hand in his. "Come, this is my house." He said gesturing ahead and taking you to the lounge and you found yourself analyzing every detail. The place was beautiful. It definitely wasn't to your taste, but it had a certain charm. Everything looked ancient, from the extravagant chandeliers to the reddish wooden furniture, everything seemed to have been there for many, many years.

"It's very nice." You said, still dazzled by every detail that was visible to you. The place was huge. "Do you live alone here?"

"Yes. I am the master of this Sanctum and therefore I live here. It is old and makes strange noises at night, but you learn to like it over time." He seemed to analyze your expressions carefully.

"But it must be lonely living alone in such a big place." You insisted, still amazed by the size of the place and you had only seen the foyer and the lounge.

Stephen smirked "It's rarely empty and work takes up most of my days, so I don't have time to feel lonely."

"Hmm."

"Please, sit. May I offer you something to drink?"

"Sure." You said, sitting on the beautiful victorian sofa.

"Wine? Maybe something stronger?"

"Wine is great."

He nodded. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a moment."

You did as he asked and as soon as he left, he returned with two glasses and a bottle of red wine which he opened and poured.

"I'm curious" You said, taking the glass he handed to you. "How do you know me? I mean, Madam Elise told me you asked for me specifically."

He smiled and took a long sip of wine.

"It's a long story. The short version is that a friend of mine told me about you."

"Is he a client?"

He chuckled, "I don't really know. I'm just glad he lead me to meet you."

You sipped the wine slowly, savoring the sweet on your tongue as much as you were savoring the enigmatic company of the man in front of you. However he downed the last of his wine and stood up.

"If you allow me, I need to finish a few things before I can dedicate myself entirely to you. Please, make yourself at home. Choose something for us to listen to, if you like music. I have a large collection. I'm sure something will please you."

With that he walked away, disappearing from sight and leaving you alone in the huge lounge.

You did what he suggested. You refilled your glass and ventured into the huge shelf of music in front of you, which to your surprise were not CDs but LPs. You got distracted reading the titles. He had a little bit of everything, from classical to pop music, including R&B and Hip Hop, classic rock and industrial metal and other things you didn't even know.

You opted for Bon Jovi and left it playing at a pleasant ambient volume and distracted yourself by scrolling through your Instagram feed for what seemed like a long time.

When he returned, he was no longer dressed in his sorcerer robes, but rather in dark jeans and a gray shirt. His hair, however, was still tied up in a ponytail and you found yourself thinking that any man in the world would look ridiculous with that hair, but not him.

"Bon Jovi. Good choice."

"A little cheesy, but I like it." You confessed. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who had so much physical music in the days of streaming services."

He chuckled. "Let's just say I'm old-fashioned. I'm not given to technology."

"No, just magic, I presume." You teased, getting up and approaching him, deciding to take the initiative. Men usually liked you to take the initiative, but with him you weren't too sure, but you had already waited too long and to be quite honest, you were eager to finally start the night.

"Are you going to show me some tonight?" You asked in your most seductive voice, and he let you snuggle into his arms and leaned his face against your hand when you touched him and finally, finally, he kissed you. A soft kiss, as if he was tasting a forbidden fruit, but you were eager to deepen the kiss, eager to finally claim him as one of your most valuable conquests.

His lips were thick and soft, his tongue tasted like wine and something else you couldn't identify and the touch of his beard on your face was delicious.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this turned on by a kiss, but you could feel the slick between your legs. However, he pulled away gently when your hands threatened to unbutton his shirt.

"I can show you one or two things, but I'd like us to have dinner first." He said. "We don't need to rush, we have the whole night ahead of us."

But you had no intention of stopping now, not when your lips were finally on his mouth, down his chin and then his neck, nibbling his ear lobe. "I'm not hungry. Not for food at least." You whispered in his ear and watched him swallow thickly, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you away gently.

"I must insist."

You nodded a little confused, but let yourself be pulled into what soon turned out to be the dining room. The table was set and the food smelled wonderful. You hadn't really noticed that you were hungry until now, but it shouldn't have been a surprise since you had barely eaten all day.

He pulled out the chair for you to sit down and confessed. "I bought the food from my favorite Italian restaurant. I hope you don't mind. I would have cooked, but I didn't have time."

But he knew how to cook. Noted.

You smiled reassuringly, "It's great. It's more than I expected to be honest. Men don't usually serve me dinner. It's usually the other way around, you know?" You chuckled.

He poured your glass and his and then sat down too. "Men rarely know how to value what they have."

You felt your cheeks blushing and disguised it by taking a sip of wine.

"Well, they pay two thousand dollars for the hour." You said finally trying the food. "Wow, this is delicious."

He smiled satisfied and only them allowed himself to start eating too. "I'm not talking about money. For me, having the company of a woman, whether I paid for her or not, is always a privilege.

You stared at him and then gave in to your curiosity. "I wonder why a man like you needs to pay for a woman."

He didn't seem surprised or bothered by the question. He chewed slowly and swallowed, wiped his lips on his napkin and took a sip of his wine and then said simply. "I don't have to pay for women. But I had to pay to have the woman I wanted."

You felt your stomach fluttering at those words and something about the way he glanced at you and said it made you blush, and you smiled shyly. "I hope I'm worth it."

...

After dinner you convinced him to take you on a small tour of the house and your admiration for the place only increased with each new room that was presented to you.

"This is the library." He said, opening the two wooden doors and indicating for you to enter. He entered right behind you and waited in silence while you swept the place with your eyes.

It was ancient and beautiful, like you expected the library of an old castle or something to be like. So many shelves of books that went from floor to ceiling and small ladders supported on the shelves so that people could get books from higher places. There were also small desks scattered around the place and a larger one in the left corner with a large wooden and leather chair. Some books, paper and pen and a pair of reading glasses on top of it.

"It's my second favorite place in the house." He reported proudly, "It's also where I spend most of my time when I'm not on a mission."

You nodded, walking slowly down one of the corridors and trying to read the titles of the books. Most of them were written in other languages. "Which is the first?"

He smiled getting closer and when he spoke again his voice sounded dangerously close to your ear "I'll show you."

You felt your skin prickle and that didn't go unnoticed by him. He held your shoulders and got close enough for you to feel his body pressed against yours. His fingers slowly pulled the strap of your dress and only then did you notice a tremor in his hands, but before you could ask yourself what had happened to them, he started to place little kisses on your shoulder and little by little he raised them to your neck and you completely forgot what you were thinking.

The little kisses went up to your ear and he nibbled your earlobe and exhaled heavily as if he had been holding his breath for a long time and your body trembled with the sensation of his warm breath.

Without holding back, you turned to face him and pulled him into a kiss and your lips collided with a passion that surprised you. His tongue invaded your mouth and dominated yours easily and your fingers were quick to unbutton the buttons of his shirt, while his fingers unzipped your dress and the two of you desperately undressed without your mouths separating for even a second. Suddenly the idea of being apart from him seemed absurd and you were surprised by the overwhelming passion that took over you. It was as if the two of you were live wires that had finally touched and were now joined by an electric current of passion and lust.

When your dress was lying on the floor and your hands managed to free him from his pants and finally free his cock from his boxers, you pumped him a few times reveling in the realization that he was as big as you needed him to be. He rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes and indulging in the touch of your hand and you cupped his face and pulled him back to your lips.

"I've waited for this for so long." He rasped in your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the floor. You locked your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the largest desk and quickly finished undressing you, but made a point of keeping your high heels on.

He kicked his shoes away and did the same with his pants and boxers, leaving him gloriously naked for you and you watched in fascination as he moved his fingers and a condom materialized in thin air. He opened it quickly with his teeth and put it in with a certain desperation and finally entered you.

You both moaned at the sensation and you held yourself on to the edge of the desk as he thrusted against you with a certain desperation that was surprising and at the same time delicious. The sound of your bodies slamming against each other mixed with your moans and echoed through the empty library.

Your head fell back and he took the opportunity to bury his face between your breasts and took one nipple in his mouth and then another.

"Fuck..." You cursed out and then bit your lips to contain your moans, but they kept escaping as he fucked you so good and with so much passion and you suddenly noticed that you weren't forcing a positive reaction to please him. If anything, you were surprised with yourself, at how he was making you feel.

Your hand grabbed his hair and pulled him back to your lips and he kissed you passionately, thrusting his tongue into your mouth with the same desperation with which he thrusted his cock inside you. Fast, intense and delicious.

He broke the kiss only to run his lips down your neck and pushed you gently so that you lay down on the desk and pulled your hips closer to the edge and with a hand flat on your lower belly he returned to thrust into you and the variation of the position made him hit your g spot with calculous precision and your mouth went agape.

Men didn't usually find your g spot and didn't even bother trying, always desperate to achieve their own pleasure, but he was different, somehow he was different from everyone else.

"Stephen... You're going to make me cum."

You confessed surprise at how the knot seemed to tighten in your stomach. "Do you want me to cum, baby?"

He didn't respond, too involved in his own pleasure, but he put a hand between you touching your clit and rubbing his fingers there in slow circles and that was enough of an answer for you and your body responded to the stimulation quickly pulling you to the edge.

You came hard and he came soon after.

When he finished, he pulled you to meet his lips and something about the sweetness of that kiss made your heart flutter in your chest in a way you hadn't felt in a long time, but you were too caught up in all the sensations to pay attention to what they meant.

It was you who broke the kiss to breathe and he gently pulled out and quickly got rid of the dirty condom with a flick of his fingers and ran his hand through his hair, tucking the strands that came loose from the ponytail behind his ear and then smiled seeming a little embarrassed.

"This wasn't how I imagined." He said and upon noticing how that sentence could be interpreted in a wrong way he ran to explain "I thought I could get to the room. Give you a little comfort at least."

You stood up and approached him, cupping his cheek gently. "Believe me, you gave me something much better." You said letting out a small chuckle and pulling him back to your lips and something between his little moan and how his hand hold you closer to him made you feel like he was melting for you.

"Now will you show me your favorite place in the house?" You asked giving him your cutest smile and he nodded smiling.

"Anything you want."

The two of you got dressed in silence, but the silence wasn't awkward, in fact it was full of smiles and glances, and you found yourself thinking that you didn't remember the last time you felt like that, like you were on a real date rather than being with a client.

Either way, you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, remembering very well Madam Elise's words: No matter how incredible a client is, never forget they are just that: a client. Because they will never forget that you are a whore.

You sighed, letting the silly smile on your lips slowly die.

Stephen led you up the stairs and you walked behind him down a long hallway until you stopped in front of a large door, but before he opened it he turned to you and gently informed, "Many of the artifacts you will see in this room are magical and their value is immeasurable. I must ask you not to touch anything."

"Geez, I'm not that clumsy, Stephen." You defended yourself giving him your best smile.

"Please" He insisted.

"Okay, no touching." You promised, showing your hands to him and holding them behind your back dramatically. He smirked and then nodded opening the door and the two of you slowly entered. He snapped his fingers and the lights came on so you could actually look at the place.

It was a large and spacious room full of pedestals with vases and other objects on top, some were protected by glass, others were not. Everything seemed so old, from the heavy amber curtains and the gold and burgundy carpets to the cabinets and book shelves, the paintings on the walls and the ostentatious chandelier in the center of the ceiling. There was a fireplace surrounded by two loveseats and a fluffy dark brown rug. On the floor, next to the rug, there were some books and a forgotten tea cup.

But all of this was nothing compared to the beautiful round window that gave a beautiful view of Greenwich Village. "Wow, this is beautiful."

You approached the window to take a look outside where cars were rushing past. You had already seen that window from the outside, not to mention they sold postcards of the city with the front of the Sanctum Sanctorum printed on them, but being inside, observing the outside through that window was something else entirely.

"I usually come here when I need to think or just disconnect from my sorcerer problems." He explained, approaching you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. "This window is special, it allows me to see more of what is in front of me."

You raised an eyebrow "Is this some wizard code for something?"

He chuckled in your ear making your body tingle and then pointed to the window "This pattern is the seal of Vishanti, I don't expect you to know what it means, but it is very important and protects the Sanctum from various types of threats."

You nodded, looking at the intricate symbol in the window, but more precisely looking at him, so serious when he was talking about his work and so beautiful with that long hair, the gray strands just made him even more attractive and the beard, those cheekbones and the eyes...

"The window of worlds allows me to see other realities and dimensions. Some are pleasant to look at, benevolent so to speak, so you can easily get lost while watching them, others are dark and frightening, but it is my job to observe them and assure that everything remains in its natural state, without interference in our real world."

You smiled shyly admitting, "It's hard to combine the things you're explaining with the term real world. I live in the real world, this is… something else."

He let out a small laugh and then buried his nose in your hair and inhaled deeply, "You weren't real to me until tonight."

You turned to look at him "You talk about me like you know me."

He sighed, closing his eyes when your hand cupped his cheek, but before you could ask anything he pulled you to his lips and you felt your entire body shaking with that kiss, your heart pounding in your head as you gave in to the certainty that there was more than just sex involved tonight, even though you knew it was crazy, you couldn't help but feel that way. He was different, special and it wasn't because of who he was or the things he could do - magically speaking - but rather because of the way he could turn you into a puddle of goo with a look, a smile, a touch of his trembling hands and that kiss.

He was the one who broke the kiss first and before he could pull away, you pulled him to your lips again kissing him one more time. He smiled satisfied pulling away, but made sure to keep holding your hand and gently directed you to the rug next to the fireplace.

You watched him get rid of his shoes and did the same, letting your sore feet be caressed by the softness of the rug.

"I usually meditate here." He said, picking up the cup from the floor and disposing of it with a movement of his hand. "And I read. It helps keep me grounded. It's where I can have privacy, besides my room, of course."

You nodded, sitting on the carpet and reaching out to pick up one of the books, but he quickly took them out of your reach and returned them to the bookshelf.

"I'm surprised I can touch you, since everything here is sacred." You teased watching as he sat next to you, his hands automatically pulled you close and his fingers played with the strap of your dress pulling it down and placing little kisses on your shoulder. With his other hand he started to unzip your dress on your back and you felt your skin prickling.

"I am not sacred." He explained, searching for your lips and kissing you hungrily "Actually, I'm very human..." He continued kissing you, but his hands helped you get rid of the straps of your dress, letting it fall to your waist and undressing your breasts to him as he held one of them in his hand, pinching a nipple "...with human needs that I want you to satisfy."

You intertwined your fingers in his hair when his lips went down to your neck and he began to suck on your throat. He stopped and admired his work and then continued making sure the mark stayed.

"Y-you... can't..." You tried to warn him in vain when you finally noticed what he was doing, but he covered your lips with his index finger and continued until he was satisfied.

"What can't I do?" He asked with a cute smirk on his lips once he was satisfied with his work.

You swallow thickly feeling drunk, even though all you had drank that night was three glasses of wine.

"Mark me." You finally managed to say and his smirk turned into a grin.

"Too late for that, baby. Skin is very nice and soft, can't help it." And as if to prove what he was saying, he lightly bit the spot just below your ear and then sucked on the skin, eliciting a moan from your lips.

You couldn't tell what he had, but he managed to mess with you in a way that you couldn't understand, you could either think straight or formulate a coherent sentence while he had his lips on you. He made you melt, all your self-confidence and control seemed to melt before him.

"What's going on inside this pretty head of yours?" He asked, biting your chin and sticking his tongue in your mouth in another breathtaking kiss.

You hummed into his lips and tried to formulate a response when he finally broke the kiss.

"You. Right now, there is only you."

He smiled proudly, "Yeah? But there's another place I'd rather be at the moment."

You bit your bottom lip and waited for him to tell you.

"With my face between your legs." He rasped in your ear "Would you like that?"

God yes, please. But you just nodded letting yourself be manhandled as he laid you down on the fluffy rug and finished taking off your dress and panties. Your legs hung to the sides and he didn't wait to dive between them, lapping his tongue into your folds to make you even wetter than you already were.

He used his fingers to open your folds and licked your clit lightly with the tip of his tongue making your entire body tremble, your hands searched for something to grab and stopped in his hair, grabbing his ponytail, but you policed yourself to don't pull.

"Oh fuck... oh yes, yes..."

He hummed approvingly at your reaction and the vibration made your body shake. Without waiting any longer, he took your clit between his lips and began to suck slowly and then increasing the pressure and you saw stars.

You loved oral sex, but the men you had sex with never cared enough to waste time pleasuring you like this, after all they were paying a lot of money, it was understandable they preferred to receive rather than give, but Defender Strange was different from all of your other clients, he was actually taking pleasure in giving pleasure to you and he was wonderful. You couldn't remember the last time you had your clit sucked with such dexterity, if anyone had ever managed to reach that level of excellence, that is, and your clit suckers could only do so much and were nothing compared to the real thing and Stephen, oh god, Stephen was even better than the real thing. He was perfect.

You could feel the knot inside you threatening to break, your legs shaking under the grip of his hands and the next thing you knew you were tugging at his hair, the hair tie came loose in your hand and you finished getting rid of it letting his soft locks fall like a curtain of dark brown and gray.

Of course he could feel you were close, your body was shaking, your breathing was faster, your wet, neglected hole was clenching around nothing and your moans were getting louder and louder, but then he stopped, brought his hand down to his hair moving them away from his face and stared at you with those blue eyes and a satisfied smile on his lips that somehow took your breath away.

"Please... don't..." You could barely speak.

"I don't want you to cum yet." He confessed and then crawled on top of you "You're so delicious, you know that, right?"

You pulled him to your lips instead of responding. The taste of your cunt in his mouth was so obscene and so delicious that you couldn't control a moan. He chuckled between your lips letting you control the kiss for the first time that night. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you couldn't resist, you pulled just a little to see his reaction and to your surprise and delight he moaned, a loud and unmistakable moan.

When your lips parted, he glanced at you and you took the opportunity to caress his face, tracing the outline of his beard with your finger.

"You're so beautiful." You confessed "You're even more beautiful in person than on TV."

He let out a little giggle and you could see a light shade of pink fill his cheeks and you thought it was adorable.

He kissed your lips softly and held your chin between his thumb and forefinger "You're beautiful. You have the most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen and your smile... it does things to me."

You smiled shyly with the way he was glancing at you and then watched as he seemed to go somewhere else in his mind for a second but soon after he smiled back. "Where have you been all this time?" He asked.

You weren't sure what to say, so you just pulled him to your lips again and kissed him, feeling a strange sensation in your stomach. His lips moved down your chin and he touched your lips with his thumb, gently forcing them apart. You took his digit in your mouth and sucked on it, teasing him to which he smirked.

"I want your mouth now." He asked, taking his finger out of your mouth and replacing it with his tongue and kissed you hard.

You cupped his cheek and asked, "Tell me how you like it."

There were many things you could do with a man's cock in your mouth and you mastered that art masterfully, but with him you were insecure, you couldn't read him and while that was frustrating, it was also what made it all the most exciting.

"Do you ask this of all your clients?" He asked, looking genuinely curious.

You shook your head "No. Usually I know what they like right away, but you... you're different."

He seemed to like your answer. He rolled onto his side and lay on his back on the carpet. "You can start by undressing me and then you can take good care of me."

You sat down next to him and let your fingers run down his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"Do you like being taken care of?" You checked.

"Very much."

You unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the fabric aside and placing kisses on his chest, lowered your hand to his belt and bit your lip, noticing his hard on contained inside his pants. It twitched with the lightest of touches from your fingers and you couldn't help the proud smile on your lips. You moved to straddle his legs and unbuckled his belt and pants and with both hands you pulled down his pants and boxers, moving to take them off completely and throwing them in a pile on the floor.

You went back to straddling his legs and finally laid your eyes on his cock. You had felt him in your hands and felt him impaling you, but it was the first time you were looking directly at him and god, it was beautiful. The curvature that let it lean towards his stomach and the veins bulging around it combined with the fat, pink head made your mouth water. He was pulsing and leaking from the head and without holding back you bent down and licked the slit to collect the precum and it tasted so good. Salt and sweet at the same time.

"I can take care of you." You purred. "Just tell me exactly how you like it."

He bit his bottom lip to hold back a moan when you finally took him in your hand, holding him tight.

"Slowly. There's no need to gag on it, just take as much as you can. And I will love if you suck my balls, lightly, I'm very sensitive there."

You listened carefully. All you wanted was to please him.

"Can I make you cum in my mouth?"

"Fuck, yes" He replied and his cock twitched in your hand.

"But there will be another round for me, right?" You confirmed, smiling mischievously.

"As many as you want." He promised.

Your mouth was salivating to have him, but you started slowly, just giving little cat licks on the head and running your tongue down his entire length while your eyes remained fixed on his. If there was one thing that was certain about all men, it's that they love it when you suck their dicks while looking at them with big dull eyes. Defender Strange was no exception. He bit his lip to try to suppress a groan and his hands grabbed the fur on the rug.

You contained a giggle watching his reaction and continued with your work, lowering your tongue to the base and then taking one of his heavy balls in your mouth. You sucked slowly and then took the other one and repeated the same process while your hand moved up and down, slowly pumping him.

"Oh fuck, it's so good." He praised you and you felt that strange feeling in your stomach again, quickly realizing that you liked hearing him praising you and trying your best to have more of that.

You moved your lips up, placing small wet kisses along his entire length and stopped at his frenulum, licking it lightly with the tip of your tongue. For most men, the frenulum was the most sensitive part of their cocks and gave them the most pleasure when stimulated, however it used to be neglected most of the time by women, but you weren't like all women, you knew how to pleasure a man and there was nothing you wanted more than to pleasure Stephen. Not only that, you wanted to be the best he ever had.

You alternated the licks with light sucks on the delicate area and he began to writhe beneath you, moans began to escape his lips and you noticed how his baritone was even sexier in that context.

"Oh, right there, f-feels so good. J-just keep doing what you're doing with your tongue." He asked and you hummed satisfied, flicking your tongue in his frenulum and with one of your hands you began to massage his balls, giving them a light squeeze. With the other hand you continued pumping him at the base and he started to pulse in your hand and you knew that if you didn't reduce the stimulation he would cum before you even put him in your mouth, but you didn't care, you wanted to see him cumming like that, you wanted to prove to him that you were that good, so you increased the stimulation on his frenulum, changing the light licks for a more efficient suction while still using your tongue, but now not quickly, but like a kiss, slowly and with more passion.

"You're going to make me cum if you keep this up." He rasped bringing his hands to your head, but he didn't push or pull, he just grabbed your hair in a ponytail to move it away from your face and allow him to have a good view of what you were doing. Men were visual creatures.

"Do you want me to stop?" You asked, stopping to make sure, but he shook his head vehemently.

"Please, don't stop. Just keep working your tongue like that."

You did as he asked, but stopped pumping him and let his cock fall heavily onto his stomach, using only your mouth to stimulate him and your hand on his balls.

You licked, sucked, kissed his frenulum and started all over again until his grip on your hair got stronger, pulling at the roots and with a loud moan he came on his stomach.

"F-fuck yes. Oh shit... oh baby..."

You couldn't contain the smile on your lips when you saw him in that state, you were so proud of yourself, and you hadn’t even put him in your mouth. The man was so sensitive to touch, you wanted to ravish him so much.

You crawled on top of him and he cupped your cheek, still panting, but there was a wide smile on his lips.

"How did you do that?"

"I barely did anything. You are very sensitive."

He smirked, "Or maybe you're just too good with that tongue. No woman has ever made me cum like this." He confessed.

You felt your cheeks blushing and that was also an effect of him over you. You weren't shy, but when he looked at you like that and talked to you like that you felt yourself melting. Instead of saying anything, you kissed him softly, but then went down your lips to his neck, licking, biting, sucking on his pulse point and continued moving your lips down to his chest, taking one of his nipples in your mouth and sucking and pinching the other. He moaned softly and you felt him twitching in your stomach, his cum running down his sides, making your skin and his stick together and making a mess, but you couldn't care less.

He was soft now, but not completely and as soon as the stimulation on his nipples intensified he began to harden again for you. The man had a lot of stamina and you could only be grateful for that because you couldn’t wait to have him inside you again.

"R-ride me." His voice sounded shaky above your head. You brushed your hair away from your face to look at him and he cupped your face with both hands "Ride me, baby. Use me. Wanna see you getting off on my cock." He asked and you felt your heart pounding on your chest. You nodded and kissed him.

"Condom?" You asked, trying hard to reason. He moved his fingers and a condom materialized between his index finger and his middle finger and he handed it to you. With another movement of his fingers his shirt disappeared, and he was completely bare for you.

Opening the package, you took his lips in a hungry kiss and your hands went down to meet his cock, pumping him slowly, but with a firm grip on your hands, making him moan on your lips.

You dedicated yourself to putting the condom on him, but first you bent down to put him whole in your mouth. His hands automatically grabbed your hair as he hardened until it was rock hard in your mouth as you bobbed your head on his length, finally giving him the oral he deserved.

"S-such a delicious mouth. So f-fucking perfect... I knew you'd be so fucking good to me..."

You couldn't shake the thought that he spoke to you as if he knew you and that it wasn't just because a friend had recommended you to him, it seemed to be something more, but at the same time you also knew that something in him was awakening a different type of attraction and that you were probably only seeing things where nothing existed because you were too involved, so you tried hard to push away those thoughts and dedicated yourself to giving him the best blowjob, using your tongue the entire time, swirling it along his entire length while taking turns going up and down and using a little suction on his head. You knew it was going well because he continued praising you between moans that grew louder and louder, however he held your chin and gently took his cock out of your mouth.

"As incredible as this is, I really want to cum with my cock inside you this time." He explained. "And not before you."

You smiled nodding and finally – reluctantly - put on the condom. Part of you wanted to fuck him raw, but in your profession, that was never an option.

Moving to straddle him, you directed his cock at your entrance which was dripping wet and let yourself sink into him feeling him stretch you deliciously.

You had seen dicks of all sizes and learned to get the best out of each one, but you couldn't be a hypocrite or lie and say that size doesn't matter. Yes, it matters a lot, and you were so grateful that Defender Strange was this big, providing you with the perfect amount of stretch and with that perfect curvature that found your g spot with surprising ease. All you had to do was lean forward a little, resting both hands on his chest and that was it.

"Oh y-yes baby... right there."

Stephen groaned in satisfaction, both of his hands grabbed and squeezed the fat of your waist, his eyes fixed on yours the entire time.

"Hit that sweet special spot uh? I can feel it. Feels so good, so fucking warm and wet... shit... squeezing me so tight."

You bit your lip, moving your hips up and down, turning it sensually every time you went down, letting his pelvic bone and hair massage your clit, providing shocks of pleasure that felt like electric currents running through your entire body.

"I love seeing you riding me like this, so fucking gorgeous" He purred "Come on, baby, need more, fuck me harder."

You increased the pace until you were both panting, the sensuality giving way to the tireless search for your release that you knew wasn't too far away. You couldn't help it, he was so perfect, everything about him exuded sex, the looks, the moans, the dirty words of submission taking you to the limit and at the same time making you hold on to the edge because you didn't want it to end, you wanted to let that continue forever.

However, he seemed to understand that you were stalling because he wrapped his arm around your waist and sat down leaving the two of you in a lotus position and began to move you faster on top of him, thrusting his hips against you to increase the intensity of the thrusts.

Getting carried away by all the sensations and feeling the knot threatening to break, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and grabbed a handful of his hair tugging at it with more force than you should have while the movements of your hips on top of him became faster and more desperate.

"Do it again." He urged in your ear, his baritone little more than a whisper.

You pulled his hair again, even harder this time and his head fell back and you felt his cock throb inside you. A part of you loved that and without him asking you did it again and again and took advantage of the fact that his neck was on display for you and started sucking it hard, biting it and sucking again until it left a purple mark. Satisfied, you grabbed his chin and pulled him to your lips, sticking your tongue in his mouth and being surprised by the way he let himself be dominated and when he let out a sweet moan in your mouth and his dick throbbed again Inside you, you knew he had reached his limit.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder, feeling the wave of pleasure and euphoria wash over you as the knot broke and you came hard on his cock and with a loud, animalistic groan he came soon after, his cock pulsing and spilling into the condom. God, how you wish it were your walls that he was painting white.

That thought alone should have been enough for you to question your sudden involvement with that man, but at that moment you didn't want to reason, you just wanted to feel.

...

You were still lying on the rug, staring at the ceiling in silence and immersed in your own thoughts. Although your head was still spinning, your breathing had finally returned to normal, and the reason seemed to be coming back to you because you were suddenly too self-aware of everything that had happened that night.

Stephen had left you for a few minutes and you could hear him cleaning himself in the bathroom. You should also get up and get dressed, but your legs felt like jelly and you couldn't find the will within you to do so.

When he came back and laid back down next to you he was dressed in gray sweatpants and his hair had been pulled back into a ponytail.

"Don't you think sex is a weird thing?" You said, verbalizing the confused thoughts in your head. "I mean, you say things you would never say if you weren't aroused, you do things you can't imagine doing under any other circumstances."

He smiled thinking for a second. "I think it's called intimacy."

"Yes and no. Personally, I think intimacy is different. It's when you feel free to continue talking after sex is over and how you feel about it."

"Like now?" He asked.

You didn't respond, instead you sat down and faced the fireplace.

"I have a list of things I don't do or don't let people do to me." You admitted it.

"What for example?"

"Hickeys" You replied holding back a smile "As you can imagine it's not smart of me to arrive at the appointment with my client marked by the previous client."

"And why do I think you weren't reluctant enough when you realized what I was doing?"

"Because I wasn't." You sighed. "I also don't usually kiss my clients. I mean, it's not a rule, but I avoid it if possible. It makes me uncomfortable."

He sat down, seeming to watch you closely, but didn't say anything.

"Talking about personal things, like I'm doing now, is also on my list." You hugged your legs and rested your chin on your knee giving him an apologetic smile. "You left me disconcerted."

He smiled touching your knee and with his other hand he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and then caressed your cheek.

"I'm not usually like this with other women. Although I enjoy it, I rarely let myself be in a position where I'm not in control. I think it's safe to say that we both did things tonight that we don't usually do, and I don't know about you, but I really liked it and I really hope you liked it."

You sighed, feeling that strange feeling in your stomach again. "That's the problem, Stephen. You shouldn't care what I like or don't like."

"But I care." He replied chuckling dryly. "Is it really that bad that I care?"

You shook your head trying to think straight. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have started this conversation."

"You can tell me whatever you want." He said moving to kiss you, but then stopped and decided to confirm, "Is it okay to keep kissing you?"

"I don't know." You admitted with a sigh, but surrendered and threw yourself into his arms anyway.

He let out a small giggle when your lips collided, but then he took control of the kiss, kissing you like that was the only thing that mattered to him and god, he was such a good kisser. One of the reasons you hated kissing your clients was because they were terrible kissers and also because you thought it was too intimate. But with Defender Strange neither of those things applied.

When he finally got tired of your lips, he stood up and held out his hand for you to do the same. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

DEFENDER STRANGE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @a-tong @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @evelyn-kingsley @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @fanartka @katehawke @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @whiskeyho @sherlux @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma @sassenach-on-the-rocks

@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl @ironstrangeheart

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applcrumbl · 5 months

Text

Soulmate.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Soulmate! Reader Warnings: None I don't think? Author's Note: still old fics from @bapplbrumbl - unedited

It was in all caps, simple, but elegant. A blue ballpoint scrawled the somewhat legible lettering on the back of his hand. It was an unusual feeling, felt as if you were writing it yourself. He wasn’t. A soulmate thing, He didn’t really understand the reasoning behind it, or why it happened. Just that it was unusual, and that less than 45% of the population had it. Only those with a true soulmate; one that they actually had a chance of meeting. It was activated through sight, as soon as you saw your soulmate, whether it be a fleeting glance or prolonged eye contact, they would have the ability to see everything you wrote on your skin.

Dentist 2:30, it read.

Never anything useful in finding her, always appointments, or little reminders to get milk. Sometimes even a beautiful line of poetry that he wound up writing in his letters home to Steve. But, never a name, or an address.

She had obviously seen him before though, as he could read what was written on her skin; see the little doodles that lined the edges of her hands. Every Tuesday, 11:30am, they would appear. He assumed it was the cause of a boring class, a solid hour of sketches of flowers, and trees. She was talented and educated. He could tell. Bucky really liked that about her. But, sadly, he didn’t know who she was, and there was a possibility that she didn’t realise he existed.

At 16, he enlisted. Because of his duty to fight for the country he loved? Maybe. Because she had written about a visit to the recruitment office and he wanted the possibility of meeting her? More likely.

He wanted to at least see her. He wanted to be able to write to her and have her read it. He wanted a name, an age, anything to give him hope. But routinely, a simple ‘hello’ was written in bold capital letters. There was never a reply.

The first day of his training was a nervous one. He had left Steve in Brooklyn, alone, and the guilt was eating him. Not to mention his ‘skin scribe’, as Steve would put it, hadn’t left any messages that week. Bucky bit his nails down to stubs whilst on his lunch break. Any hope of finding her now was long gone, She was probably back home. And Bucky was most likely going to die fighting.

One of his fellow Regiment brothers cracked a joke. Something at Agent Peggy Carter’s expense. Bucky, desperate to fit in, poked in as well.

“Women on the front line? She wouldn’t last. Too busy combing her hair or something-”

His peers laughed. It died down rather quickly as a female voice spoke.

“That’s a write-up.” the person said. He hadn’t seen her before.

“Sorry ma’am” Bucky replied.

“What is your name, Soldier?”

Bucky sighed, “James B. Barnes, Ma’am.”

The woman nodded, turning on her heel as she walked away. Pen in hand. The man ignored the feeling of embarrassment as he turned back to his group.

“Bloody psychopath,” Bucky laughed, slightly on edge and checking the time on his watch, 11:29. “Okay boys, we’re late for track. Let’s go.”

The encounter was forgotten as quickly as it had happened. Bucky ran the 500m track, correcting his form as much as he could. He ignored the scribbles that appeared on his hands, much too focused to look at them. In hindsight, he wished he had. The quick glance before she washed her hands was not quite enough for him to believe what he had read. His heart fluttered at the sight, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. But it was too late, the pen had gone. Only the trace of the little note that took place on his skin.

James B. Barnes - 107th

If he wasn’t already nervous, he certainly was now. Almost stopping in his tracks as his regiment caught up behind him. He ran off of the track, despite the shouts of his superiors. He scanned the base, no faces jumped out at him though. He swore to write something to her as soon as he found a pen.

“Barnes, What are you doing?”

“Sorry Sir, Bathroom issues.” He lied.

Clammy hands gripped the pen tightly in his right hand. Veins climbed his fingers, framing the space where he was going to write. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to contact her, but the extreme likeliness that he’d seen her that day made his heart thunder. Thoughts swarmed in his head like wasps around fresh fruit. What if he hadn’t seen her? What if she wasn't here? What if she didn’t reply, and didn’t want anything to do with him?

A shaky hand, lettered the words ‘are you here?’ In a small font at the top of his hand, leaving space for her to reply.

You had decided not to tell Peggy of the encounter with the rude group of soldiers. She already had it much too hard to hear every little rumour around the barracks. And so, the write-up went unfinished. ‘No trace that could hurt Peggy’s feelings’ you thought.

You were supposed to supervise training that afternoon, instead opting to take some well-earned time away from the camp. You sat with your book, reading. Eyes scanned the pages, taking in the words of one specific sentence to mind. Grasping for your notebook, you could not find it. Instead dog-earring the page to keep it in mind. Peggy would be mad at you for damaging the book, but you could deal with that later.

A knock at the door signified wanted entry. Cynthia entered. She was nice, you had nothing against her personally, but all she ever wanted to do was talk about her soulmate and how they met. The story was cute the first time, but after hearing it weekly for the entirety of the year so far, it got boring. And your feeling of loneliness grew bigger.

The whole soulmate trope felt like bollocks to you, where did it come from? Why do we have it? Millions of questions in your head but one of them stood out the most: Where was yours?

You were one to draw on yourself anyways, even accidentally. Mindless doodles were your coping mechanism and a source of entertainment during boring lectures. In other words: it was purely a hobby. But part of you hoped that your soulmate was out there if you even had one and that one day he would write something back.

You almost didn’t feel the ballpoint writing on your skin. It was faint, he had a light touch, almost careful to hurt you. It was so soft that if you had been paying attention to Cynthia, or were not craving the sensation, you probably wouldn’t be feeling it at all. The feeling was almost burning, yet loving at the same time, caring.

In a panic, you interrupted the story. “Have you got a pen?”

“Yes, but I’ll need it. Why?” She handed it to you.

Your leg bounced as you read the message on your hand. In all of the excitement, you didn’t even answer his question, instead of posing one of your own.

Who are you?

Bucky stared at his hand for what felt like hours, He sat alone in his barracks. Eyes not once leaving the rough skin of the back of his hand. Your handwriting had always been beautiful, but even more so now that it was directed to him. ‘James, But call me Bucky’ he answered, stroking his finger over the sentence she’d just finished writing.

The writing was getting smaller, a struggle to squeeze the conversation in. ‘Y/N’ she wrote.

Cynthia was getting impatient, somehow desperate to get her pen back. Considering the hours you had taken listening to her story, you would think she would be the least bit understanding of your situation.

“I need the pen back” she stated, a pompous hand extended forward. There was not much you could say to protest, handing the writing utensil over. You arose quickly, walking out of your room and into the neighbouring.

Bucky wrote back. 'Meet me, Please.'

“Is there a pen in here?” She asked one of the soldiers sitting on the bed. He threw a spare over. “Thank you”

‘Where?’ she wrote, hiding away. Then passing the pen back to the Soldier. And leaving.

‘I’m with the 107th regiment.’

It was a long shot, she might just ignore it. Wanting nothing to do with him. He silently prayed for an answer.

Meanwhile, in the corridor, you froze. He was here.

If only you still had a pen you could find him. Unwilling to ask that soldier for his pen back, you thought. Eventually giving in.

“I’m going to need your pen again, I am so sorry"

“I’m using it now,” The other soldier said, putting it on his bed and turning away.

A moment of worry traced your features, what if he thinks you’re ignoring him? You reach to grab the pen anyway, surely he wouldn’t notice.

But, he did. And with lightning reflexes caught the outstretched hand at the wrist. Again you apologised, taking in his features. You felt guilty, but after all, it was just a pen. “That’s my pen,” he stated.

“I know, I just need to borrow it for two seconds,”

Bucky thought you were pretty, same as he did when you wrote him up earlier. He felt bad for thinking that, considering his soulmate could quite possibly be very close. He complied anyway, watching you take the pen and glide it across your skin. four words, ‘i’m in the dormitory’.

He watched it happen, the exact moment the ballpoint touched your skin. The skin of his soulmate. Every letter shook his core, tears threatening to burst from his eyes. A hard stopped your movements.

“Y/N?” he asked, reaching to pull up the sleeve that had fallen to cover his hands.

Confusion plagued your features, a pair of furrowed brows turning to face the soldier. “Yes?” you questioned, not quite catching on.

In one swift movement, he took his pen back, quickly gliding it over his skin. He didn’t have long to think, desperately wanting to write something cool that would impress you. But, he also just wanted to let you know. He wrote a simple statement.

Nice you meet you.

#applcrumbl #writing #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader

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astrojulia · 1 year

Text

Pick a Pile:

Wheel of Life Reading

Disclaimer: These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purpose. Warnings:There are piles that contain more personal subjects such as sexuality.

Hello Siren, how are you?

This reading is an overview of your life, it addresses the following subjects: Relationships, Career, Finances, Spirituality, Your Physical, Your Intellectual and a General Advice. To make the reading broader, you can choose your option in each area, totaling 21 options (3 for each). I hope you like it!!

How to pick a pile

When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise! .

Relationships

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Clover - Ship - Letter

Currently, relationships are just a desire, but not something close to you. You don't have a romantic partner or love interest in your daily life. It doesn't mean that you don't want this to happen, but it seems that lately, you haven't had any luck with that. You can't seem to find your ideal romantic partner due to several obstacles. It seems that you always have a rival, or your job takes up most of your time. When you finally find someone that you're interested in, that person is already in a relationship. Don't worry; the deck says it's your destiny to have a good relationship someday. Maybe you'll meet your ideal match at the beginning of your Saturn Return (around the age of 30), and you two will be people from far away places, but you'll communicate a lot. So depending on your age, your relationships are about to blossom or you're going to have to wait a long time.

Pile 2

Clover - Moon - Cloud

In relationships, you feel uncertain, but you are serene about the situation. It is not something that worries you, and you let it happen naturally. You know that many of our relationships are fleeting, and sometimes they are intense, while other times they simply do not exist. You are also not someone who has never been in a relationship, and you know that they can often be abusive, trapping and hurting you, just as you also have the ability to hurt others. Everything has both sides. At the moment, you're contemplating the opportunities of a relationship more than actually engaging in one. It seems like you enjoy reading novels more than living one. Changes may come in your love life, but they will come naturally over time. There's no point in forcing it.

Pile 3

Rider - Dog - Moon

You already have someone in mind when talking about love; someone you already talk to and interact with. Your insecurity now is that nothing changes. The same things are happening all the time, and you even moved away because nothing interesting is happening anymore. This person is your partner, and they certainly have feelings for you (I just can't say if they're loving; maybe they're more about friendship anyway). Well, if you just want to be friends and companions, that's great. If you want to change something, you will need to be a little more mysterious and play with this person. Make a charm. As things are now, it's great for a friendship, but for a love relationship, it will need some changes.

Career

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Sun - Scythe - Stars

Your career is draining more energy from you than you'd like. It takes a lot of effort, perhaps due to the repetitive movements, standing for long hours, or any other activity that, even though it's easy, stresses you out repeatedly. However, this time is about to end, but for that to happen, you need to ask for help from someone you can trust in the company. Seek advice from someone who has already been through this situation and can give you some tips that will make your work easier. Know that what you are going through now is something cyclical, and it will end sooner or later, and you will reap the fruits of your labor later.

Pile 2

Man - Garden - Child

This pile can follow two very different paths, so if it's not one, it's another. Your career involves working with people or in a company with customer service. If you are handing out resumes, look for companies that have customer service positions available. Your career today involves a lot of communication and involvement with children, games, toys, cute clothes, and everything that pleases the children's universe and kawaii. If you want to expand your business, focus on this path and steer clear of everything that is classified as masculine. To succeed in your career, you need to network in all kinds of ways, without fear of being judged or ignored. Don't be discouraged by negative experiences, renew yourself and try again. If you are secure in your career but are in doubt about quitting to take care of children, know that it may be a very risky decision because your partner may not be able to provide the necessary support. If you have a mother or grandmother who can help you in this situation, it may be safer to seek their assistance.

Pile 3

House - Fish - Whip

You are blessed in the area of your career, as the path you want to pursue will work out for you. I'm not saying it's ready and waiting for you, but rather that whatever you decide to do, it will lead to success. Your professional life is abundant with opportunities, but your fears are holding you back. You are afraid of failure and are too proud to humble yourself to achieve your goals. However, you need to realize that your potential is endless, and you can become an authority in whatever you choose. You just need to let go of your fear of the unknown and take control of your life.

Finances

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Clouds - Book - Lilies

It's time to study economics. Your doubts about money and how to solve your bills won't go away if you work more or do more overtime. You need to pause and examine how you got to this point, and explore your options to find logical solutions. Perhaps taking out a loan from the bank is the best option for you, instead of overworking yourself. Your current situation is causing confusion, stress, and affecting your mental health. What you need right now is peace, so seek out smart solutions. Sometimes working harder and trying harder won't solve the problem. If you have the financial means, consider investing in your education. I've noticed that many people enjoy fields like medicine and therapy.

Pile 2

Book - Whip - Mice

I'd like to put this more gently, but it seems that you are wasting your money. The good news is that everything can be sorted out, just like how Cinderella's mice helped her with everything she needed. The only problem is that you're spending too much. I do believe that you are investing your money in your studies and taking professional courses, which can be expensive. However, there are also small expenses, such as those ranging from $1 to $10, that are slowly draining your finances. I suggest that you only spend on what you really need for now. Once you finish your studies and cover the major expenses, you can start making those small purchases again. But for now, it's best to hold back a little.

Pile 3

Man - Snake - Sun

You are spending your hard-earned money on the wrong things. Perhaps you are using your money to impress someone by attending events they like, buying clothes they prefer, or trying to get closer to them. Unfortunately, this won't help if that person has no interest in you. If you are not interested in anyone, you can channel your money towards a sport or a new hobby. I'm not suggesting that you abandon your interests, but rather that you can simplify your approach and not spend so much money on them. For instance, you don't need 10 pairs of pants and t-shirts. Instead, you can have three t-shirts and two pants and still make a lot of combinations, which is much cheaper.

Spirituality

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Bear - Birds - Whip

You have spiritual connections that are more focused on your protection and well-being than on other matters such as love or finances. You enjoy spiritual protection, which can sometimes be overwhelming because it may seem like there aren't any good opportunities coming your way. However, the truth is that better things are being worked on for you, and you just need to be patient and wait for them. Additionally, you should practice your spiritual obligations, and prayer is the most effective way to do this. Someone who prays for their guardian spirits every day has much more power than someone who simply makes a potion during the Moon of Strawberry and expects everything to be resolved.

Pile 2

Rider - Stork - Birds

You are someone who has a hard time listening to your spirituality. They can send you a billboard saying they are there, or better yet, an SMS answering your questions, and even then, you doubt any and all messages that your spirituality tries to send you. Yes, they are close to you. They have been with you since your birth. I can even say that they have been with you in past lives. Be wiser, trust your intuition more, believe in nature and the future. This is what your spirituality wants to tell you.

Pile 3

Ring - Birds - Clouds

You have a connection with spirituality that is strongly linked to the air element. You feel drawn to clouds, birds, feathers, incense, fairies, and other symbols of the air element. Perhaps you communicate with your guides through the air or have been told that this is the best way for you to do so. However, the problem is your lack of commitment. If you want to follow a spiritual path, make sure it is something you truly believe in and want to commit to. Remember that every spiritual contract you make is eternal and cannot be undone by simply changing your mind. Therefore, it's important to know that your spirituality and your guides are always with you and ready to guide and protect you. However, they need your commitment and willingness to work with them. They will be there for you in both good times and bad, but you must be willing to help them guide you on your path.

Your Physical

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Stork - Child - Cross

If you do not want to have children now, it's important to take extra precautions. However, if you are ready for it, this may be a good time. I've noticed that it has been a while since you have engaged in a pleasurable physical activity. While you may be exercising and eating healthy out of responsibility and care for your health, it's also important to enjoy what you do. You are a responsible person when it comes to your health, but I want to remind you that you can be both healthy and have fun. You have been doing the same things for a while and haven't tried any new activities or dishes, and it may be beneficial for you to expand your horizons. There are many wonderful things out there for you to try and enjoy.

Pile 2

Bouquet - Crossroads - House

Stop looking for easy solutions to your physical problems, whether it's your weight, a chronic illness, or anything else that limits your choices and affects your daily life. I know you hate dealing with these issues, and no one enjoys being sick, but it's important for you to take steps that you know will work, even if it means a slower path to progress. The easier paths may seem tempting, but they often come with rebound effects that set you back to square one. So, focus on the long-term results and commit to the right approach, even if it requires more effort and patience.

Pile 3

Fox - Tower - Mountain

You see your physique as a major problem that you're not sure how to solve, but deep down you know that there is a solution out there for you (you're just not sure which one to pursue). I've noticed that many people struggle with skin problems such as dermatitis, as well as issues with their hair. If you've been dealing with these problems for years, it's understandable that you may feel discouraged and uncertain about finding a solution. While I can't personally offer a solution to your problem - that's the job of a qualified professional - I want you to know that there are experts out there who can help you. Don't be afraid to seek out other professionals and explore different treatment options. After all, you're investing your time and money in this, so it's important that you find the best possible care.

Your Intellectual

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Tower - Moon - Anchor

You are undoubtedly a highly intelligent person, but it's important to remember that intelligence is more than just rationality. While you excel at navigating the logical world, you struggle to manage your emotions, which often seem like a boat in a storm. To become even better, smarter, and more confident, you need to strengthen your emotional side. Fortunately, you are fully capable of doing so, despite previous difficulties. It's worth investing time and effort into studying techniques and strategies for understanding and managing your emotions.

Pile 2

Snake - Woman - Stars

You know that you are an intellectual and that you have spent most of your life being oriented towards intellectual pursuits. However, be careful not to fall into traps because of this. Even if you have studied for many years, you are not necessarily better than anyone else, just more knowledgeable about the subject. Be more humble in your approach. Remember that there will always be someone who can teach and guide you, and that there is always room for new people. If someone new arrives in your academic environment, embrace them, because you can learn a lot from them.

Pile 3

Woman - Crossroads - Child

You're already debating your own capabilities, and now I have two paths to suggest, so if one doesn't fit, try the other. The first relates to your sexuality - if you're uncertain and struggling to fit into one of the 30+ classifications society offers, remember that you don't have to conform to anyone else's idea of who you are. Instead, focus on what feels true and right for you.The second option is to embrace your femininity rather than trying to detach from it. Viewing femininity as negative or useless can be limiting and prevent you from fully embracing all aspects of yourself. Instead of trying to fit into gender norms, focus on simply doing what needs to be done without worrying about what is considered masculine or feminine.

General Advice

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Pile 1

Bouquet - Mice - Snake (Man)

It's time to stop settling for less and start striving for something better. You may be afraid of taking risks, but in reality, you have far more opportunities and possibilities than you realize. Instead of waiting for life to happen to you or for a sign from above, take control of your own journey. Remember, your path is unique and belongs to you alone. So don't be afraid to chase after what you truly want and create the life you desire.

Pile 2

Letter - Dog - Fish (Scythe

You have distanced yourself from your friends, but it's important to remember that you made that decision. It's time to have more confidence in yourself, not just in your relationships but in all aspects of your life. Not everything is about loss and conquering; sometimes good things come into our lives without any effort on our part. Instead of focusing on numbers and what you can show to others, start paying attention to what you feel inside. Trust your instincts and acknowledge what is real to you, even if you can't confirm it to others.

Pile 3

Cross - Clover - Lilies (Ship)

At my religious center, I heard a phrase that goes, "There are more secrets between heaven and earth than death itself". I think of this phrase because it seems that you are seeking a reason for what is happening in your life right now, but the truth is that there may not be a reason or a motive. Sometimes, things just happen, and it's up to us to trust in fate and move forward. Remember, you are luckier than you think, and it's important to simplify things rather than making them more complicated. Trust in the journey and have faith that things will work out in the end.

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