#not my OMC and used with permission
Text
The Deal With Love
Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader. Other Characters: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura, Christine Chapel, Dr. Jordan Wallace, Dr. Dylan Clark, Martin Sinclair (OMC’s).
Word Count: 9316
Warnings: Fake dating, friends to lovers, well-meaning friends, alcohol consumption, some angst, conniving businessmen, but FLUFFFFFY ending.
Summary: One night, Dr. McCoy shows up at the bar owned by James T. Kirk, The Space Dock, with a problem. He’s about to close a deal with a major hospital, which will benefit his clinics. The hospital execs invite Dr. McCoy and his wife to their charity gala, where they hope to finalize the deal. However, Dr. McCoy isn’t married, so he asks the Reader to pose as his girlfriend, and she agrees. Only problem is, they have feelings for each other that have so far gone unspoken. Will they be able to go back to being “just friends” after the deal is done, or will there be heartbreak?
A/N: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Leonard McCoy had wanted to be a doctor for as long as he could remember. He read nearly every medical textbook and magazine article he could get his hands on. As a junior and senior in high school, he received special permission to help out in the nurse's office. That's also where he happened to meet his best friend, James T. Kirk, or "Jim", as he was known around school.
After graduation, their paths diverged for a time, with Leonard headed to medical school, while Jim opted to pursue a degree in business. Several years later, Jim was the owner of a highly successful bar in downtown San Francisco, called The Space Dock. Only the best bartenders in the city worked at Jim's club, where the line frequently stretched around and down the block, starting on Thursday nights.
Leonard, on the other hand, spent his years slowly building his first neighborhood clinic into a total of three successful ones. His clinics provided the best care in the city, regardless of a patient's financial status. Each clinic worked in general medicine, while also specializing in one other particular area of health care. It was this model that caught the attention of Martin Sinclair, the CEO of one of the top healthcare facilities in the city, Bayview General Hospital.
Tonight, Leonard was invited to meet with Sinclair and several of the board members to discuss a business matter. The board wanted to propose the acquisition of the McCoy clinics, bringing them under the hospital's umbrella. Leonard would still be very much involved in the day-to-day operations but would have access to more and better technology to serve his patients.
After drinks and an expensive meal, Sinclair asked Leonard for his thoughts on the business proposal. In his mind, Leonard was jumping for joy at the opportunities being presented to him. On the outside, though, his poker face was in control. "I appreciate the offer, which I must admit is rather generous. However, I hope you understand when I say I'd like to discuss this with the other members of my staff at the clinics," he responded.
Sinclair and the other board members all assured him they understood, and after dessert, they all walked out to the valet station. Everything was going well at this point, with each side thinking they had the upper hand. While they were waiting for their vehicles to be brought around, Sinclair turned to Leonard. "Oh, you must invite your wife to join us at our next event. My wife is always looking to meet new people and make friends," he remarked.
Leonard gulped. "My-my wife?" he questioned.
"You are married, aren't you?" another board member asked. At the look on Leonard's face, he explained. "We're all married. You see, we find that when a colleague is married, it shows a certain amount of stability in his life, someone who's going to stick around. Not someone who we spend all of our time training, only to have them leave to go to some other hospital. So, when do we get to meet her?" he wondered.
"Well," Leonard began. "Thing is, I'm not married," he admitted. "N-not yet, anyway," he hastily added when he saw the faces of his potential co-workers. "I do have a girlfriend, though. A wonderful woman, who I've been involved with for almost five years. Been thinking of asking her to take the leap, but I haven't found the perfect moment yet," he sheepishly grinned.
The group burst into laughter and some of them clapped a hand on Leonard's shoulder. They all agreed that Leonard should bring his girlfriend to the hospital's charity gala, scheduled to occur in three weeks. Sinclair and the others hinted that they also hoped Leonard would have a decision on their offer by that date. He assured them that he would consider their offer, and in the meantime, he would be needing two tickets for the gala.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
After he left the restaurant, Leonard headed for The Space Dock, to hang out with Jim and get his opinion on the deal. He needed some outside perspective, and he knew Jim would help him on that front. Leonard was still nursing his first glass of top-shelf bourbon when his eyes fell on you. He was usually around on Friday nights, watching as you made and served drinks to a packed club. However, this being a Wednesday night, he was surprised to see you working.
Leonard's eyes followed you as you took a tray laden with drinks over to a table of boisterous patrons playing cards. You set each drink in front of its recipient and smiled before turning to leave the table.
What happened next nearly had Leonard catapulting out of his seat. He watched in horror as one of the men reached out to try and pull you onto his lap. Fortunately, at the last second, you scurried out of the man's reach, then returned to confront him. As you spoke, his face seemed to get more and more pale and when you left again, he had a terrified look in his eyes.
You returned to the bar to wipe off your tray with a wet cloth, then smiled as you turned your attention to Leonard. "Oh, good evening, Leonard, how's everything going?" you asked.
"Going all right, everything okay with you? I saw what almost happened over there, what did you say to him?" Leonard wondered.
"I reminded him that his son, Mason, was a student in my class, and that I know his wife. I also mentioned what would happen if he or any of his friends with him tonight try to pull a stunt like that again," you replied.
"Really? What did you say you would do?" he couldn't help but ask.
You leaned in closer, and Leonard followed suit. "Um....I told him that if it happened again, I'd have to tell his wife about it at the next parent-teacher conference," you smirked. "He knows she's kinda scary about stuff like that."
Leonard threw his head back and burst into laughter. "Here I thought I was going to have to teach him a lesson in how to treat a lady, but you handled it just fine, darlin'," he remarked.
"While I appreciate the sentiment, I've handled worse before. Used to work in my uncle's bar when I needed money for college. Most of the customers were ex-military, a relatively good bunch for the most part. But occasionally we got a wannabe in there or some hotshot recruit who thought he could say or do whatever he wanted," you shrugged. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to fetch some more bottled beer from the cooler."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Leonard shook his head and watched as you walked through the swinging doors leading to the walk-in coolers. It wasn't long before Jim was standing in front of him, wiping down the bar top. "Hey Bones, what brings you in here? And on a Wednesday of all days?" he asked.
The doctor gave Jim a quick smile, then told him about the dinner meeting he had with the execs from Bayview General Hospital. Leonard explained the particulars of the board's offer, and what it all would mean for his practice. Then he brought up the unusual conversation that occurred outside at the valet station. "I mean, it was beyond weird. He said they're all married, that it represented 'stability' in a person's life," he grimaced at the memory of the conversation.
Leonard motioned with his thumb to where you were clearing the empty tables, while still keeping an eye on your rowdy table of customers. "What's she doing here tonight? It's only Wednesday, and if I'm not mistaken, she has a job as a 2nd-grade schoolteacher in the morning," he pointed out.
"My regular Wednesday bartender called out with a family emergency, so she volunteered to take the the extra shift," Jim shrugged.
"That's got to be tough, working all week as a schoolteacher, then here on the weekends," Leonard mused. He watched as you now washed glasses behind the bar.
Jim kept his eyes on his friend while Leonard observed your routine of washing and rinsing the glassware for the bar. "Yeah, but she does it all with a smile. Hey, what are you going to do about a girlfriend or fiancée for this gala thing?" he asked, changing the subject.
Leonard's concentration on you broke for a quick second to respond. "Hmm? Oh, the hospital gig. Don't know yet," he murmured, his eyes back to observing you. "I wonder if....nah," he shook his head.
Jim started to catch on to Leonard's train of thought. "Why not?" he asked. "C'mon, she's perfect! Second grade schoolteacher, wholesome occupation. Plus, the two of you have been friends for a long enough time that it'll be believable that you two are a couple," he explained.
"Hmm. Wow, I can't believe I'm saying this, but Jim, you might be right," Leonard chuckled. "Doesn't hurt to ask her, right?"
You chose that moment to bring over a tray of washed glassware, and latched on to the end of Leonard's question. "Ask who, what?" you wondered.
Jim looked from Leonard to you and grinned. "You know, I just remembered, I've got some paperwork to do in my office. I'll catch up with you two later," he winked and patted your shoulder on his way out.
"Len? Everything all right?" you asked.
It was now or never, Leonard thought. "Do you have a minute? I have something I'd like to talk with you about," he started. You flashed him one of your beautiful smiles, which gave him the courage to share the events of his evening and to ask for your help.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
After he finished giving you the details of his plan, you silently digested the information. While he spoke, you were leaning forward, but now you were reclined in your chair, your palms flat on the table in front of you. It was a rather unusual thing to ask of you: pose as his girlfriend/fiancée to impress a bunch of hospital execs for a business deal.
The decision should have been a no-brainer. Do this favor for a friend by wearing a fancy dress to an upscale event with dinner and drinks. But in your case, it wasn't exactly that clear-cut of a decision anymore. Especially since lately, your feelings for Leonard had tiptoed across the line of simple friendship and into something more.
Sure, by the time Leonard came in on Friday nights, he usually had a grumpy look on his face. One that sometimes took until halfway through his second bourbon to begin to disappear. The other bartenders generally steered clear of Leonard until that point, except for you.
In your eyes, Leonard is exhausted and stressed-out from giving everything he has to treating his patients to the best of his ability. You admired him and couldn't imagine doing what he does, or how he does it, day in and day out, all with the utmost grace and dignity. The least you could do was pour the man a drink to help him relax from a day like that.
Leonard found himself studying your face, looking for any indication of your thoughts about his plan. "Well?" he prompted, breaking you out of your concentration. "What do you think? I'm willing to throw in some cash, or prizes, if that helps," he chuckled nervously.
You grinned at his attempts to alleviate any tension, or to possibly influence your decision. "Oh, no, no, Len. You don't have to do anything like that. I'll do this for you, no strings attached," you affirmed. Given the potential for heartbreak, you were aware that you may regret this, but there was no way you could turn him down. His friendship meant too much for you to do that. Somehow, you'd have to learn to live with the consequences, should they arise.
Just as Leonard thought it was about to all fall apart when you seemed to hesitate, you surprised him by agreeing to his plan. And though you'd said, "no strings attached", Leonard knew his heart was already somewhat tethered to yours. Perhaps these thoughts he's been having of something more with you aren't that unrealistic after all.
Leonard relaxed in his seat at the bar and reached out to take your hand in his. "Well, I don't quite know how to thank you for this, darlin'," he drawled. "They told me the gala was about three weeks from now. As soon as I have the exact date, I'll let you know, in case you need to go shopping or something," he mentioned. "At least let me help you by covering that expense."
You tapped your chin, pretending to think, then turned to Leonard. "Hmm. I s'pose I can live with that," you replied with a smile. "I'm sure I will need to get something to wear, at some point anyway. Not much call for a ballgown and high heels in my 2nd-grade class," you chuckled, as did Leonard. "But my dress remains a secret until that night," you advised, holding up your index finger.
"Fair 'nuff, sweetheart," Leonard grinned.
The two of you chatted for a little while longer until it was time for Leonard to head home. He hardly ever stayed much past eleven on Fridays, and it was now edging close to midnight. "I'll be here Friday night, as usual, so I'll see you then," he remarked. Before he left, he took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it, then gave you a roguish wink.
Your eyes followed Leonard as he walked out of the bar and into the night. The navy-blue dress slacks he was wearing clung perfectly to his backside. The top two buttons on his white dress shirt were open, giving you a tantalizing hint of his broad chest. His suit jacket was slung over one shoulder as he waved goodbye to Jim with his other hand.
Jim stood next to you and observed the way you ogled his best friend with your lips slightly parted as you watched him leave the bar. It wasn't until the door closed that you snapped your mouth closed and returned to the task at hand. "So, did Bones have anything interesting to say?" he smirked.
Your head swiveled in Jim's direction, and you rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face. "Oh, shut up, Jim," you muttered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Later that night after your shift at the bar, you were reflecting on Dr. McCoy's offer as you relaxed on your couch. All you had to do was to pretend to be the woman in his life, long enough for him to sign the agreement for the business deal. After the hospital's charity gala, you could break up with him, and you go back to being just friends. He made it sound uncomplicated. But will it really be that easy?
You could tell yourself all you want that you agreed to his plan because it was about one friend helping another. However, it wasn't that simple, considering your feelings for Leonard, even though you were sure he didn't return them. This arrangement made you wonder if or how you could ever go back to being "just friends", after you'd known what it was like to be his. As your eyelids drooped, your thoughts drifted back to that night when you'd first met Leonard.
>>Flashback
"Good evening, what can I get for you?" you greeted with a bright smile.
Leonard seemed to wince at your cheerfulness. "Bourbon. Please," he grumbled.
You delivered his drink and watched as he threw it back in one go. "Another?" you asked, to which he nodded. "Rough day?" you wondered as you replenished his drink.
Leonard paused mid-sip on his second drink. "Look, I know that bartenders are supposed to be great listeners, but please. I just want to enjoy my drink without anyone trying to shrink my head, especially one of Jim's new bartenders," he muttered. "No offense."
"None taken, but I have a deal for you. I have a joke for you, and if you don't laugh or crack a smile, your next drink is on me. However, if I do get a laugh or smile, no matter how small, you have to say something nice," you proposed.
Leonard's head tilted in curiosity and said he'd take your deal. You told your joke, but you think you messed up the punch line, because Leonard had no reaction. "Guess that means you owe me a drink, darlin'," he remarked.
"I reckon I do," you replied as you poured his next drink, then introduced yourself. He gave his name in return, and he watched as you ran the bar with precision, charm and grace. Throughout the night, you checked in with him, offering little tidbits about your life, while he did the same. You noticed that as the evening progressed, his time between refills got longer, while his laughs and smiles were more frequent.
Eventually, it was time for him to leave, but not without flashing you a smile and mouthing, "thank you". Whether that was thanks for your care and conversation or for making him smile, you didn't care. You had made a difference and that was enough for you.
>>End of Flashback
From that very first interaction with Leonard, a beautiful friendship was born. He came in every Friday night after work, and you got to meet his and Jim's other friends. Soon after meeting everyone, you were welcomed into the friend group as if you'd been there from the beginning. It was a feeling you didn't want to lose, especially once your arrangement with Leonard was over.
Noticing the time, you got up from the couch and stepped into the shower, praying that the hot water would ease your aching muscles. You also hoped it would relax you enough to the point that your brain would slow down enough to let you sleep. For now, you decided to let things happen naturally between you and Leonard, and try not to overthink the situation. Easier said than done, but I've got to try, you thought as your head sank into the pillow.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Well, it's about time," Uhura remarked. You had invited her to lunch because you needed a semi-neutral third party to help sort through your emotions.
"Wait, what's that supposed to mean, 'it's about time'?" you asked.
"I mean exactly that, it's about time Leonard wised up and asked you out on a date," she clarified.
"I suppose it is technically a date. I get all dressed up in a beautiful ballgown, Leonard picks me up from my place and we go to this hospital charity gala thing," you explained. "I'm there so that Len can project an image of 'stability' to the board members. They're all married, and if they think we're together, they'll want to do this deal with him."
Uhura rolled her eyes. "You two, I swear," she muttered under her breath. "Do you not see the way Leonard looks at you? Wh-when we're at the bar and you bring over the next round of drinks, his eyes follow your every move. They stay glued to you until you get back behind the bar," she stated. "I'm tellin' you, that man is smitten with you."
"Nuh-uh, he watches so that if I start to have any trouble because the tray is too heavy or something, he can jump in and help," you countered. "Doesn't mean he has feelings for me, or that he's 'smitten' with me, or anything else like that," you grumbled.
Uhura waved off your feeble explanation. "Never mind that. What happens after the hospital's thingamajig? Does everything go back to 'normal' with you and McCoy?" she wondered.
That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn't it, you thought. "I suppose so, I mean, I don't think either of us have thought that far ahead. Once he signs the contract and the deal goes through, he said I could break up with him and we'd go back to being friends," you explained.
As if Uhura could hear your thoughts, she remarked, "But you're thinking, 'what if that's not what I want', right?" You nodded at her keen observation as she reached over and covered your hand with hers. "Then you have to tell him. Take the leap and trust that Leonard will be there to catch you," she added.
You took a deep breath as you considered Uhura's words. "I'll keep it in mind. For now, I need your help to find a gown that will blow his socks off," you grinned.
"I can definitely help you with that, let's go!" Uhura exclaimed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Across town, a meeting was being held between Dr. McCoy and the two chief physicians at his other clinics. He explained the terms of the deal with Bayview General Hospital, and what it would mean, especially with patient care. The conversation took a turn similar to yours and Uhura's when Leonard mentioned that he would be going to the hospital charity gala with you.
"Really? It's about damn time," remarked Dr. Jordan Wallace, one of his colleagues.
Leonard turned his surprised look towards Dr. Wallace. "Now, what's that supposed to mean?" he wondered.
"It means, Dr. McCoy, that we've been waiting for you to ask her out on a date since you first told us about her," answered Dr. Dylan Clark, another of his colleagues.
Leonard shook his head. "It's not like that between us, we're just friends who have known each other for a long time. They'll assume she's my girlfriend, and why should I correct their assumption?" he pointed out. "I suppose, technically, it is a date. We'll both be dressed up in our best, I'm picking her up from her house, and she'll be by my side for the evening," he explained.
Drs. Wallace and Clark looked at each other, unable to believe that Dr. McCoy, their friend and mentor, was this clueless about his feelings for you. "So, there's nothing more between you? This is only a business deal? What happens after the deal is signed, do you go back to being 'just friends'?" Dr. Clark wondered.
Leonard took a deep breath before answering. "I guess we haven't thought that far ahead, you know, about 'after'. It's not like I haven't ever entertained thoughts of something more with her," he admitted with a wry grin.
"What's so special about her anyway?" Dr. Wallace asked.
"Where do I start?" Leonard grinned. "She's intelligent, selfless, compassionate and has a great sense of humor. Her day job is a 2nd-grade schoolteacher, which should qualify her for sainthood on that alone. But she also works weekends at Jim's bar for some extra cash. On top of everything else, she's one of the most beautiful women I've ever met," he finished.
"Oh yeah, you're gone for this woman, Doc McCoy," Clark chuckled, as did Wallace. "My advice to you is to tell her how you feel. She sounds like an amazing person, and from what you've told us, you'd be perfect for each other. Take the leap and trust that she'll be there to catch you."
Leonard waved his hand to try and get the meeting back on track. "All right, all right, enough about my love life," he grumbled good-naturedly. "So, what are our thoughts on Bayview's offer?" he inquired, getting back to the business at hand.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
After lunch with Uhura, you had found the perfect gown, a floor-length burgundy one with tulle overlay and cap sleeves. It had gold sequins on the bodice, at the waist and on the skirt. You found a pair of gold pumps along with some earrings and a necklace to match.
When you got home, you phoned Leonard to let him know so he could match his pocket square to the color of your dress. "Not even a hint as to what it looks like, darlin'?" Leonard chuckled.
"Not even a little hint, Len. A girl has to have some mystery about her. Keeps a man guessin'," you added with a grin you hoped he heard through the phone.
"Well, all right. I s'pose I'll let you have your mystery, sweetheart. Can't wait to see you this Friday, though," Leonard replied softly. "You'll be all dressed up like a princess, while I play the part of the frog," he joked.
"Fortunately for you, a princess can turn the frog back into the prince with only one kiss. And I will be more than happy to bestow one on you. Even though you're already a prince in my book," you remarked shyly.
"That's mighty kind of you to say, sugar," Leonard replied quietly. "Sweet dreams, darlin'," he responded.
"Sweet dreams of you, Len," you whispered, then hung up.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
On the night of the gala, your friends Uhura and Christine came over to help you get ready. As you'd told Leonard, there wasn't much occasion for a ballgown and fancy shoes in your classroom. For this reason, you desperately needed your friends as reinforcements. Luckily, Christine was an expert with hair, which she put into a classic updo for you, with a few loose, wispy tendrils to frame your face.
Uhura was your cosmetics expert, keeping it at neutral colors for the most part. While at the same time, she was subtly enhancing your "existent beauty", as she'd called it. However, you were having trouble sitting still for her to apply the eyeliner and mascara. She finally stopped and asked you, "All right, what's going on? I can't finish your makeup if you don't stop fidgeting. What's wrong?"
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "It's just....tonight might not be as easy as I thought it would be. I mean, yeah, sure, it'll be great when he holds my hand, or puts his arm around my waist, but that's because we're pretending," you explained. "We're putting on an act for those hoity-toity hospital execs so they'll sign this deal with him. What if I make a mistake and blow everything? And....I don't want it to be pretend anymore," you finished in a small voice.
"Oh, honey," Uhura brought you into a hug, being mindful of your hair. "It's going to be all right. Leonard will be by your side the whole night, and he won't let anything happen to you. Just relax and follow his lead. You two have been friends for such a long time that this should almost be like second nature to you," she pointed out.
"Yeah, you're right. If something's going to happen, it should do so naturally, as it would if no one is watching," you mused.
"Exactly, keep it natural. If you want to hold his hand, reach for it. If you need to hold his arm, take it," Christine chimed in. "And if he wants to kiss you, well," she grinned. "Then lock your lips with his and hold on for the ride," she cackled.
Once the laughter died down, Uhura returned to her task of your makeup. As soon as she finished, she and Christine helped you step into your gown and zipped it up. You slipped your feet into a pair of gold pumps with a low heel and headed out to the living room, where you'd left your jewelry. Right after you'd secured your crystal earrings in place, there was a knock at the door and you froze in place.
"He's here," you whispered, your hand rising to cover your mouth.
Uhura rolled her eyes with a grin as she rose from her chair. "Relax, honey, I'll get the door, even though I know it's for you," she smirked. She checked the peephole, turned to you with a wink and a nod of her head. You nodded back and waited with bated breath as she turned the doorknob.
The sight that greeted you was one for which you were not prepared: Leonard McCoy in a tuxedo. The man was devastatingly handsome enough as it was, no matter what he wore, but a tuxedo?? He was a menace to be sure, but in the best of ways. "Good evening, Dr. McCoy. Won't you please come in?" Uhura prompted.
"Thank you, Nyota, I....," Leonard's voice trailed off when his eyes landed on you. "Whoa, sweetheart," he whispered. "You look absolutely exquisite this evening. Truly breathtaking," he added with a warm smile.
"Good evening, Leonard. And thank you," you returned his smile a bit shyly. "You look rather dashing yourself. Charming and handsome is quite the lethal combination, I'll have to keep my eyes on you," you teased. In front of you was the box that held your jewelry for the evening, the necklace still in the case. "Oh, um, excuse me a moment, last part of getting ready," you motioned to the box.
Leonard stepped over to where you were fiddling with the clasp on your necklace with shaking hands. He covered your hands with his own and eased the delicate chain from your hold. "Allow me," he murmured. You turned your back to Leonard and watched as the pendant with your birthstone came into view. An involuntary shiver coursed through your body when Leonard's hands brushed the soft, short hairs at the nape of your neck, which did not go unnoticed.
His hands traveled from your shoulders and down the length of your arms, capturing your delicate hands in his larger ones. Leonard gently nudged you to pivot until you were facing him, a tender smile on his face. "Pretty as a picture, darlin'," he remarked, causing the heat to bloom in your cheeks.
"Hey, that's a great idea," Christine chimed in, holding up her phone. Leonard slipped his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to his side, while you moved to rest your left hand against his chest, palm side down. "Smile," she prompted.
Leonard had shifted so he was facing you more than he faced Christine's camera. His right hand lightly covered your left one, and his eyes focused solely on you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a secret smile, one you were glad only you could see. "I am one lucky man tonight," he whispered. "Shall we?" he asked, to which you nodded.
You picked up your gold, quilted-leather handbag and dropped your phone inside to join your wallet. Leonard held out his arm, so you curled your hand around it and he tucked it close to his side. "Time for us to go. I bid you good evening, ladies. I'll try to have her home at a reasonable hour," he chuckled.
"Take all the time you want, it's not like she has a curfew or anything," Uhura snorted with laughter, which earned her a glare from you. Christine caught the exchange between you and Uhura, which caused her to break out into laughter as well. Leonard grinned and shook his head as he led you out to his car.
Christine pulled up the picture she took of you and Leonard and sighed. Uhura stepped over to peer over Christine's shoulder and let out a sigh. "They're so in love with each other, but neither one of them will admit it. That picture says it all," Uhura remarked while Christine nodded in agreement. "Send that to me, will ya?" she asked.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
At the event, you and Leonard were the last of your group to arrive, but that was to be expected. He introduced you as his girlfriend, and explained that you have been together for about five years now. Leonard mentioned that you had met at Jim's bar, and how he knew as soon as he met you, that he wanted to get to know you better.
It made your heart flutter to hear Leonard say that, but you wondered if it was part of the act, or if he truly meant it. You pushed it to the back of your mind when Leonard guided you out onto the dance floor.
As you swayed back and forth, there was a softness in his eyes. Leonard pulled you closer to his side and his hand covered yours, which was laying flat against his chest. When he moved to rest his cheek against the side of your head, you could feel him smile.
After dancing, it was time to find your assigned table for the sit-down dinner. Somewhere between the main course and dessert, the men adjourned to discuss the business proposal from Bayview General Hospital. That left you to fend for yourself with their wives, but you were determined to keep up the façade for Leonard's sake.
Martin Sinclair's wife asked you what you do, and you responded that you were a 2nd-grade school teacher. You earned some polite nods and murmurs of affirmation from a couple of the wives. However, you also got the feeling that the other wives were not known to work outside the home, if ever or at all.
You scanned the room and noticed that the other executives had left Leonard by himself at the bar, sipping a bourbon, no doubt. As gracefully as possible, you excused yourself from the table to check on him.
Not knowing whether the meeting went well or not, you approached Leonard with caution by carefully laying a hand on his bicep. "Len, is everything okay? Where did the others go?" you asked. When he turned to face you, you were greeted with the widest smile you'd ever seen on him.
Leonard looked like he could hardly contain his excitement. "Everything went smoothly, they walked me through the points of their offer. All three clinics will remain open, we continue to serve patients, with no changes in the staff levels. Everyone gets to keep their jobs, and we can all keep doing what we love," he gushed. In a rush of enthusiasm, he pulled you into his arms, lifting your feet off the ground as he gently twirled you around.
When your feet were finally back on the floor, you stayed within Leonard's tender embrace. "All this time," he murmured as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "We've known each other all these years. How am I only now realizing that--" his last thought was interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He explained that it was Dr. Wallace calling to see about the deal, and nodded when you indicated you were going to freshen up.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As you were leaving the ladies' room, you had only opened the door at a small crack when you heard two of the executives talking about the deal. They were congratulating themselves at getting Leonard to accept their terms, a few of which sounded different than what Leonard had told you.
One of them said that one of Leonard's clinics would have to close, because it wasn't profitable to accept all patients without adequate insurance. You decoded that it meant staff would be let go, and the city would lose a valuable and much-needed healthcare resource. Leonard would never agree to a deal that included those terms, thus you had to tell him before he signed anything. You waited until the men left the restroom area, then made your way back to the table.
Leonard checked his watch, anxious at the amount of time you were away from him. He was just about to go and look for you when you had returned to the table. "There you are sweetheart, I was about to send out a search party," he teased. His smile dropped when he saw the look on your face. "Is everything all right?" he asked quietly, growing more nervous by the minute.
"Not really, and I need to talk to you before you sign anything," you rushed out, then moved to a corner of the room near your table.
Leonard's face shifted to a look of concern as he rose from his chair and joined you. "Sweetheart, what's going on?" he wondered.
You relayed what you had heard on your way out of the ladies' room. When you got to the part about the clinic closing and the staff changes, Leonard waved his hands in front of you. "Wait, stop, that's not what's in this deal. They assured me--" he remarked, but you interrupted him.
"I think they told you whatever they needed to so that you would sign their deal. One of them said that it wasn't profitable to accept patients without 'adequate insurance coverage'. That was the reason they were closing one of the clinics," you explained.
Leonard vigorously shook his head. "No, no, you must have heard them wrong. Let's get back to our table so we can finish our evening," he demanded, reaching for your hand.
You pulled your hand out of his reach. "You can't sign that deal, Leonard. Please don't. You've worked so hard to get to where you are, and you're doing so much good for the city. I am immensely proud of you for that. But these men don't have your best interests at heart. All they see is profit and loss," you muttered.
"Can't you see what this deal means to me and my staff? To my patients? We can keep serving our patients like we always have, except now we'll have access to so many more resources! This deal is a good thing!" he exclaimed.
"Not if it comes at the expense of your patients, your staff and yourself," you replied sadly.
Leonard paused for a moment. "You know, it all must look so simple when viewed from the perspective of a 2nd-grade school teacher and part-time bartender," he shot back, his hands on his hips.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" you retorted.
"I mean, it's kind of hard to take the advice from someone whose biggest decision is what subject to teach a bunch of second graders every day. Meanwhile, I need to consider how I can best meet the needs of my staff and my patients. On top of that, I have real life-and-death situations to deal with." He watched as the color drain from your face at his response. Once the words were out of his mouth, he wanted nothing more than to cram them back in.
"Is that what you think about my job? About me? That my profession is inferior to yours, or that I am somehow 'less than'?" you countered. When Leonard didn't respond, you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Right. Well, you got your deal. Therefore, you no longer need me, so now we can break up. And I don't ever want to see you again," you croaked. "Goodbye, Leonard," you whispered. You picked up the skirt of your gown and rushed back to the table and grabbed your handbag before running out of the venue.
"NO! Sweetheart, wait!" Leonard shouted. He started to race after you, but was stopped by Mr. Sinclair.
"Is everything all right, Dr. McCoy? Looks like a little trouble in paradise, if you ask me," Sinclair smirked.
Leonard looked the hospital CEO in his eyes. "Yeah, well, I didn't ask you. The reason we were arguing was because of something she heard about your business proposal. You know, the part where you close one of my clinics and people lose their jobs. I believe you forgot to mention that in our agreement. I'd hate to think you'd lie to me about such an important aspect of the deal," he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.
For his part, Sinclair looked nervous for about a half second, then quickly recovered. "Is that what she's up in arms about? Dr. McCoy, she's a school teacher. What does she know about making such complex business deals? Besides, we were going to discuss the staffing issue with you after the deal was signed. That way, we can decide how to best incorporate your resources with ours," he lied smoothly.
Leonard ran his hand over his face as he realized you'd been telling the truth and prevented him from making the biggest mistake in his life. Well, one of the biggest anyway. "I don't believe this. First of all, how dare you insult my girlfriend like that! Especially when she was right about you. Secondly, why would you lie to me about something this important?" he huffed. "Never mind, I don't care to hear your reasons or your excuses. Deal's off," he snapped on his way out of the ballroom.
As soon as he burst out of the front doors, Leonard's eyes frantically searched up and down the street, praying for a glimpse of you. A flash of gold caught his eye just as you finished tucking your skirt inside the taxi and you closed the door. Leonard ran and shouted for the taxi to stop before it pulled away from the curb, but it was too late and you were too far away. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, only to have his call go directly to voicemail. With a string of curse words, he tried to call you again and again, with the same result.
Leonard slumped against the building trying to catch his breath, while silently mulling over what he'd lost this evening. He blew the deal, but for a good reason and he had no regrets about his decision to do so. There was no good reason for what happened with you, though, and there were oh so many regrets. He trudged to the valet station and handed over his ticket. Time to head home and see how long it would take to drown his sorrows in bourbon before he simply passed out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When the taxi dropped you off, you noticed that Christine's and Uhura's vehicles were still in your driveway. No doubt they want to hear how the evening went, you thought with a grimace. You fumbled in your handbag for your keys, but stopped when Uhura yanked open the door. Her eyes grew wide at seeing you alone on your front porch with Leonard nowhere in sight.
"Did I see you get dropped off by a taxi?" she asked. You nodded and dropped your gaze to the ground, not wanting her to see your face with your eyes red and puffy from crying. She stepped back enough to allow you to enter the house. You stepped out of your shoes, then picked them up and took them to your bedroom. "What happened? And where's Leonard?" Uhura inquired.
You heaved a deep sigh. "I need to get out of this dress first, then I promise I will answer all of your questions," you replied wearily. Before she closed your door, Uhura unzipped your dress so you could step out of it and put it back on the hanger. Once you had changed into your pajamas and fuzzy slippers, you stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water, then took a seat on the couch.
"The evening started off so well. Every time Leonard introduced me to someone as his girlfriend, all the butterflies in my stomach took off in flight. Deep down, I knew it was for show, but at the time, I didn't care. Anyway, we had a couple of dances before a lovely dinner. Then, right before dessert and coffee, Leonard and the execs stepped away to discuss the deal," you explained.
"Leaving you with the wives, I assume. That must have been fun," Christine muttered, rolling her eyes.
You chuckled softly and nodded. "It was okay. All part and parcel of the whole 'fake girlfriend' gig, I suppose," you mused. After taking a long drink of your water, you continued. "I saw Len standing by the bar, so I went over there to see how it went. He was so happy when he told me that they want to do the deal and explained some of the terms. I think he was about to say something important, but one of the doctors from his clinic was calling him for an update. So I excused myself to the restroom."
"All good, so far. What happened next?" Uhura asked.
"When I was coming out of the ladies' room, I heard two of the execs talking about the deal. Their terms were very different from what Leonard told me. I waited for them to leave then I returned to the table. I must've looked upset, because Leonard and I stepped aside, then I told him what I'd heard," you remarked.
"And how did he take it?" Christine wondered.
You took a deep breath and dropped your gaze to your hands, where your fingers were twisting in your lap. "Um....not well? I guess? He didn't believe me, said I must have heard wrong. I tried to convince him not to sign anything, because they were lying to him just to get him to agree to the deal. Then he...." your voice trailed off.
"Go on, what did he say next?" Uhura inquired in a tight voice.
"He said uh....he-he kind of indicated that as a 2nd-grade teacher, I have a rather simple view of things. That I couldn't possibly understand how complicated this deal is, or how beneficial it will be for everyone," you swallowed back a sob.
"He said that??" Christine gasped.
You nodded slowly. "I told him that if that's what he thinks of my job, of me, then he didn't need me anymore since he got his deal. I said we could break up now, and I didn't want to ever see him again. After that, I ran back to the table, grabbed my purse, and bolted out of the venue. One of the valets hailed a taxi for me, and Leonard's been blowing up my phone ever since I left." From the couch cushion next to you, a text notification sang out, so you held up your phone for Uhura and Christine to see.
Uhura made a noise of disgust, then scowled and held her hand out. You passed over your phone, which she promptly turned off then handed back to you. "There. Leave it off for the night, and you can decide in the morning if you want to talk to him," she advised, and you nodded in response.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The weekend passed without any contact from you, which did nothing but fuel Leonard's concern for you. As far as he could tell, his text messages went unread and he had no idea if you listened to his voicemails. He went to The Space Dock on Saturday night, hoping to catch you at work. Jim told him that you'd taken the weekend off for personal reasons, deepening Leonard's anxiety about you.
That night after the gala, Leonard indeed went home and had more than a few swigs of bourbon. He wanted to drown out the memories of the evening, even though it had all started so well. Leonard was proud to introduce you to everyone as his girlfriend, something he wished was his reality, not fiction. The two of you even enjoyed a couple of turns around the dance floor before sitting down for dinner.
After the main course, the business portion of the evening occurred, where Sinclair and the others outlined their proposal. Everything seemed good on paper: no staff reduction and no clinic closures, just business as usual with access to more technology. He shook hands with Sinclair and the others, who advised him that the contracts would be sent to his office for signatures.
It all started to fall apart after you got back to the table and told him what you'd heard. You tried your best to convince Leonard that this deal wouldn't benefit him the way he thought it would. Problem was, he was too wrapped up in seeing its advantages that he didn't want to believe in anything that would threaten it.
So he lashed out and said those awful things to you, belittling your profession, diminishing your sense of self. Leonard could swear he witnessed the exact moment your heart shattered into thousands of pieces from the force of his words. And the light leaving your eyes was something he never wanted to see again as long as he lived, especially since he was responsible. You ran out before he could catch up to you and the taxi took you away from him before he could stop it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Monday morning found Leonard at his desk, which was full of paperwork that needed various levels of his attention. Instead, he stared at his phone, willing you to answer at least one of his text messages or respond to one of his voicemails. Even if you told him to never contact you again, it would be some kind of answer. He was about to call Uhura or Christine for an update on you, when the door to his office flew open.
"What in the hell did you do that night?" Jim thundered. Leonard's office assistant, Abby, was close behind, trying to pull Jim back out of the office.
Leonard motioned to Abby that everything was okay and that he would take care of the situation from here. She nodded and closed the door behind her, then Leonard turned his attention to his visitor. "Now, Jim I-" he started.
"She quit, Leonard. My best bartender quit. Said she was sorry, and that it was for personal reasons, but she refused to elaborate. Now, I'm aware of her agreeing to be your pretend girlfriend, thus I can only surmise that something terrible went down that night because of it. So, out with it. What did you do?" Jim demanded, his arms crossed over his chest.
Leonard took a deep breath before responding. "Okay. Here's what happened," he relented, then ran through the events of that night. Jim eased himself into a chair and as he listened, he did a thorough review of Leonard's appearance. Dr. McCoy had a weekend's worth of stubble, coupled with a defeated expression on his face. Whatever happened, Jim could see that it greatly affected both of you, because he knew you weren't faring much better.
When Leonard finished his story, Jim sat back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh. "Wow. What are you going to do now?" he asked.
"I don't know, Jim. Right before you walked in, I was about to call Christine or Uhura to see if they would at least tell me how she was doing. However, I'm pretty sure they won't tell me anything. 'Girl Code' and all, I suppose," Leonard muttered, then he turned his sad expression to Jim. "I need to know how she is and explain how sorry I am for what I said," he implored. "And I have to tell her how I feel."
Jim thought for a few minutes then sat up in his chair and leaned his elbows onto Leonard's desk. "I have an idea, but it's nothing elaborate," he started.
"Go ahead. At this point, I'll do just about anything to get her back. She deserves the world, and I want to be the one to give it to her," Leonard declared.
Jim clapped his hands, then rubbed them together with glee, the complete opposite mood he had when he walked in. "Okay then. Here's what we do," he grinned.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"All right, class, when I get back, we'll start the next chapter for Where the Red Fern Grows," you promised. "For now, finish up your math worksheets from earlier today, otherwise please sit quietly until I return," you directed. A few moments ago, you'd received a text message from Margaret, the principal's assistant, asking you to please come down to the office.
When you were still a few feet away, you gasped in shock to see Leonard standing there with a bouquet of white and yellow tulips and pink roses. You stopped short in your path to the office, not wanting to be seen. Just as you turned around to go back to your classroom, Margaret called out your name and you cursed under your breath. Leonard's eyes caught yours and you could see the apology and regret, but you weren't exactly ready to forgive him quite yet.
"Margaret, what's this all about? I was getting ready to start our reading session when you called me down here," you narrowed your gaze. "I really don't have time for this. Besides, I told you that I don't want to ever see you again. I'm going back to my class," you directed at Leonard, then turned on your heel and started walking down the hall.
Leonard rushed out of the office and managed to catch your arm, which you promptly removed from his grasp. "Wait, please sweetheart, I need to talk to you," he pleaded.
"You said enough that night, Leonard McCoy. Your feelings about me and my chosen profession were made quite clear at the gala. I hope you still got everything you wanted after I left," you replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, my class is waiting to see what happens next with Big Dan and Little Ann," you remarked as you resumed your path back to class.
This time, Leonard didn't stop you, only stared after you to see what room you went into then wandered after you. He only got a few steps when Margaret tapped his shoulder, a laminated card on a lanyard in her hand. "If you're going to be roaming these halls, you must have a visitor's badge," she explained.
Leonard slipped it over his head then gave Margaret a brief smile. "Thank you."
"Listen. I don't know what's going on with you two. All I know is that in these past few weeks, she's been smiling a little easier and seems happier. I hope you work out whatever it is between you, because she's one of the best 2nd-grade teachers we have. You'll find her in Room 23B," Margaret winked.
Leonard's face broke out into a huge toothy grin. "Thank you, Margaret. I don't intend to let her get away," he winked back and headed for Room 23B. When he arrived, he noticed that the glass window by your door was covered in construction paper cutouts of stars. Each star had a student's name on it, and at the top of the window read the caption, "Reach For the Stars".
He peered into your room, where you were reading from a well-worn, leather-bound book, Where the Red Fern Grows. Although he couldn't hear your words aloud, Leonard could tell from your facial expressions that you were bringing the story to life. It was at that moment he saw how much of your heart and soul were invested in your profession. He understood more now why his words had hurt so much that night.
Leonard was about to walk away when a student turned towards the door and caught his eye. The student must have said something to you, because you stopped reading and quickly left your seat. You marched towards the door and yanked it open. By the time you slipped out into the hallway, you were fuming. "Are you out of your mind? How dare you interrupt my class time!" you hissed.
He held up his hands, pleading with you. "Wait! Please! All I want is a chance to explain myself. If you want nothing more to do with me after that, I promise I'll respect your decision," Leonard promised.
You shook your head. "No, you need to go home, Leonard, because I cannot have this conversation with you right now," you retorted. You spun on your heel and reentered your classroom, pulling on the door to close it behind you. However, it didn't completely latch, leaving a sliver of opportunity.
Leonard took a deep breath, checked the bouquet in his hand and nudged open the door. He saw your eyes widen with each step until he was standing before you at the front of the room. "I don't believe this! Leonard, please, now is not the time for--" Leonard stopped your rant with a swift press of his lips to yours.
At first you fought the urge to give in to what you've wanted since you first met Leonard, so you don't return his kiss. Not at first, anyway. But Leonard was persistent and didn't let your resistance deter him in the slightest. "I'm sorry, but this was the only way I could think of to get you to stop talking," he murmured.
Suddenly you were aware that twenty-five pairs of eyes were trained on the two of you, which caused a heat to bloom in your cheeks. "Um, don't look now, but we have an audience," you replied sheepishly.
You looked at the faces of your students, some smiling, but all fully paying attention to the drama unfolding before them. No doubt your real-life story was more interesting than the book your class was currently reading. You were their beloved teacher, and they had to see how it would play out.
At this realization, you snapped back to reality and the situation at hand. "Just answer me one thing, Leonard. Was any of it real for you? The stories, the compliments, did you mean any of it? I know what we said when we started this, but I've wanted it to be real for a long time. I-I am in love with you, Leonard McCoy," you declared softly.
Leonard audibly sighed with relief. "Sweetheart, of course it was real. I meant everything I said about you. When we met, how happy I was to be with you these past five years....how beautiful you were that night," he revealed. "And still are," he whispered. "I'm in love with you, too," he affirmed.
You tenderly cradled his jaw and stroked his cheek with your thumb, smiling when you felt him lean into your touch. "Class, what do you say? Show of hands for inviting Dr. McCoy to join us for the rest of class," you called, your eyes still trained on Leonard. Every hand shot straight into the air. "It's just me reading Where the Red Fern Grows," you murmured.
A grin slowly stretched across his face, then he leaned forward to touch his forehead to yours. "Good thing Margaret set me up with a visitor's badge, huh?" Leonard chuckled. "I would love to join you and your class," he remarked.
"Remind me to thank Margaret on my way out today," you giggled. Leonard nodded, then took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it. He picked up an empty chair and positioned it near your chair at the front of the room. When you reopened the book, you winked at Leonard before returning to where you'd left off in the story.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora @hailbop1701 @writercole @lassie-bird @never--doubt @phoenixisred @wayward-dreamer @erindiggory @strangesgirls @dumpsterhippie @genevablog26 @lokis-deares @medicatemedrmccoy @rooweighton @mamamercurymist @d-doki-doki @malmeansbad @imamotherfuckingstar-lord
#leonard mccoy x reader#leonard bones mccoy x reader#bones mccoy x reader#karl urban character x reader#reader insert
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Love Between Shelves- Chapter 3
Pairing: OMC Taishiro (Tai) Kageino x OFC Renee (Ren) Jackson
Warnings: this chapter does contain mentions of past physicals abuse by a partner and mild violence.
Word count:
A/N: I love Tai and Ren and I hope that you all fall in love with them too.
I do not give permission
Series Summary:
Sometimes just when you think you will never find love, you find it in the one place you always dreamed. Between shelves of books.
Renee (Ren) Jackson is a single mom with a rocky past but she is doing the best she can to provide for her mom and little boy. She can feel the loneliness like a physical ache but she is determined not to mistake loneliness for love ever again. Ren can’t afford to choose wrong. It's not just her after all, it's her little boy too. So she’s built up her walls and resigned herself to being alone, because it’s better than the alternative.
Taishiro Kageito lost everything . His home. His business. The life he had built. All in one fell swoop. Just when he’s at rock bottom he finds out his parents left him his childhood home and nest egg when they passed away. The only stipulation he has to move back to small town he grew up in and stay for three years. So he does. He starts doing what he always did best and slowly building a business. He runs in to Ren and from that moment he wants nothing more than to give her the world. He’s just gotta win her over.
Ren
After my collision with what could only be a Nephilim or half giant, I went to join my mom and kiddo. We didn’t spend much longer gathering a few books before heading to check out.
“I heard you squeal. Did you knock another shelf down?” John asked teasingly as he rang us up.
I rolled my eyes hard while my traitorous family smothered giggles behind me. “ John I have told you like a million times, there was a friggin screwdriver in the middle of the aisle. If there hadn’t been I would not have slipped and grabbed a shelf to keep from falling only to have it come down with me. Also, who owns a bookstore and doesn’t bolt down the shelves?!”
John for some reason enjoyed this trip down memory lane. My natural clumsiness seemed to bring him no end of amusement. He chuckled. “Oh come on Ren. I have owned this place for YEARS and until you the only time I have ever seen a shelf fall like that is the movies. Also why would I bolt them down? What if I have to move them? Which I have had to do more than once, am I just supposed to keep putting bolt holes in my floor?” She just sighed. "We gotta go John. Coffee and Pastries await. Have a good day.” with that, me and my little family headed out the door to complete our biweekly ritual and head home. I was still trying not to think about what John had said when my mom whispered “Don’t worry baby girl, it won’t be much longer.” I didn’t say anything, just shared a look and sighed. She knows how hard it is for me at times, while she has a way of just knowing things I really wish this one would hurry. Before long we head home to enjoy a day of naps and reading. Honestly it was the small things that you have to cling to when crap gets hard.
Tai
“I could introduce you to her if you want. She needs someone like you in her life.” John said as I worked on the back side of his building. “Damn it. Will you just let it be. She ain’t got no interest in me.” I snapped. All he had been talking about for the past couple of weeks when I came to work on extending his building was Ren. It didn’t help that she was all I thought about anyway. John nudged my backside with his shoe, almost making me lose my balance. “Fuck!” I glare up at the smug older man. “First off don’t cuss at me. Second, you don’t know what she is interested in because you won’t talk to her.”
I sighed “Look I don’t think me being a pushy bastard is gonna earn me any points and what do I have to offer her? Not just her but her little boy and momma? Nothing man. That’s what.”
I stand up and stretch. “Anyway if I get to work now. I can have the exterior framed up and ready for brick in a few days. Then it will take me a few weeks to get all the brick laid, the wiring and insulation, finally drywall and paint. It should all be done in ‘bout two months even though it is just me.” John just gave me this look like changing the subject was useless but nodded. Then a thought struck me and I sighed "Hey John, when exactly am I supposed to take down the existing wall? You’ll have to close the store for at least a few days for me to take it down.” He was quiet for a minute. “Well the missus and I usually take off the first week of June you can do it then. Gives ya time to take it down and seal off with plastic or whatever.” I just nodded. “I guess I better get over to the hardware store. I have some ordering to do.” John just nods and we walk back into the store. Heading towards the front I hear voices and John soft sushes me.
Ren
“Look Jack I told you already, I’m not interested.” I say once again facing away from Jack Freeman with my hands braced against the counter, praying that John materializes from wherever he is to save me. “Well just come on now Renny. We would make a great couple,” he says, pressing the front of his body against my back with his hands on my hips. I want to hurl. “Sides that little one of yours needs a Daddy, and I can fill that role real nice.” I am so uncomfortable I want to run but the only way for me to move is to the side which won’t work since assface has a death grip on my hips. “Jack get your hands off me. That is your one warning.” There is a sinister chuckle and suddenly I feel like I can’t breath and I want to cry. “Oh Renny, everybody in town knows what Isacc did to you and it didn’t matter how hard you fought him, did it?”
My blood runs cold. I am sweating and freezing. He is so close. I brace my feet to try and run but I can’t move. I take a deep breath, I can hear the back door softly open, and John hush whoever he is talking to. If I can just get Jack off me. “See that’s what I like when you just do as you’re told.” he sneers. “Get off of me Jack. Last fucking chance or you’re -” I don’t get to finish the sentence before I hear stomping and an animalistic growl. My head snaps to the left and for a split second I am more afraid of what’s coming toward me than what’s holding me. That is until a hand reaches out gripping Jack by the neck and tears him off of me. John whispers holding his hand out, “Come this way honey,” as I move past the giant holding a struggling cursing Jack to stand at the end of the counter with John he asks “Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you any did he?” I shake my head no. John puts an arm around me and leads me to sit down on a tall stool. It’s only then I realize I’m shaking. John straightens up , his face morphing from concern to rage. “Tai if you would be so kind as to get that trash out of my store.” Tai doesn’t answer, just hauls Jack out the door as though he weighs nothing. John turns back to me. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” I take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah I am fine. Just tired is all.” John nods and dials up his wife. A few moments later she comes in with some coffee and I couldn’t be more grateful.
Tai
My daddy always said that there was no doubt in his mind that he would kill for my momma. He didn’t care if it seemed like something small, she was his and he was hers. I thought that he was crazy. I mean I knew he loved my momma more than anything but I couldn’t fathom the idea of ending someones life over bumpin in to someone. Not until today anyway. Today I realized that I would crush a windpipe if its owner breathed at Ren the wrong way, if it made her uncomfortable.
Seeing Jack with his hands on her like that, the way I could see fear etched in every line of her body, I don’t think seeing red covers what happened. I saw the way she looked at me , for a split second I’m sure I looked like a monster, but the relief when she realized that was everything. Grabbing Jack felt like grabbing a rag doll. I felt like I could rip his arm off . He tried to fight at first but once my hand was at the back of his neck, maybe he sensed that at that moment I really could have snapped his neck. When John asked me to take him outside I was grateful as all hell. I dragged that man to his truck and slammed him against it. “What the fuck Tai. You can ease up now man. She can’t see you.” Jack said with a pained laugh. I slid him up the side of the truck, making it creak, until he was eye level with me, which meant his feet dangled in the air.
“Jack this aint no fuckin show I’m puttin on. She told you to back off and then you put your hands on her. She ain’t yours Jack.” The fucker had the nerve to laugh “Well she ain’t yours either. Only man that has a claim to that fine piece of ass is Isacc.” I cocked my fist back and connected with his face before the thought even fully formed, his head smack hard against the truck. Jack groaned blood pouring from his nose and lip. “She ain’t property fucker." I snarled "Let me make this as clear as can be. If you or Isacc for that matter, decide to be stupid enough to show your face, call, send a text, telegram, morse code message, write a letter, take out an add about, or think about her or trying some shit like that again I promise No one will find your fucking bodies. This is the only warning you get." He tried to knee me but the way he was dangling gave him no leverage. He had to spit blood before he could speak. "You're makin a mistake boy. Issac aint gonna like this." I couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't give a rats ass what that slime does or doesn't like. If you need to hear it in caveman her and her family are protected by me. And you know better than most not to fuck with what's mine. Now go crawl back under your rock fucker." Then I drop him and watch as he scrambles away into his truck and peels off. When I turned around I saw John's wife blushing from head to toe, she gave me a smile. “John was right, you would be good for Ren. Go clean the blood off your hands then come to the bookstore.” She continued on with cups of coffee in hand and I went into her shop to do as she said. The whole time thinking well fuck, I probably scared her.
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Scarlett and the Professor - something new
moodboard created by @strangelock221b 💜💙💜
[continued from] [contains NSFW material]
The night air had turned cooler than Scarlett had expected, making her grateful for Hennessy’s jacket nestled around her shoulders—though she knew full well that her shivers were a result of more than the air temperature. Namely, anticipation for what the night ahead held for them. And the banked embers of desire, which he had kept alive by simply laying his hand on her thigh throughout the length of their drive—and then stoked to a low smolder when he began tracing a leisurely, sinuous pattern across the silk covering her skin. It had felt like a reminder of Hennessy’s claim upon her—and his promise of pleasures to come.
Once the garage door began to close behind them, Scarlett waited as he retrieved her bags from the boot and set them on the landing of the short run of stairs that led up into his mudroom, and from there into his kitchen. Hennessy—a well-mannered gentleman about the polite niceties between men and women—returned to hand her out of the car. But such niceties only went so far in his book, and having slammed shut the door, he backed her against it, tucking her hands behind her back and holding them there while kissing her breathless. Scarlett went soft in the shadow of his height and his strength, very much excited by the restrained power of his body trapping her in place, and curious as to how he planned to take her next. Knowing that it wouldn’t be long until he showed her.
Hennessy trailed his fingertips along her jawline, causing her to open her eyes. His seemed to burn from within, with an intensity that felt as though he sought to lay bare her thoughts. Scarlett smiled up at him, and then turned her face enough to place a soft, open mouthed kiss on the thick mound of flesh at the base of his thumb, drawing from him a surprised gasp. How wondrous it was to see that she could affect him that way, reminding her that even such small yet heartfelt gestures had a power of their own. Perhaps that is the path to open up his heart to me. Patience and simplicity. And following the promptings of my heart.
Hennessy led her onward once they entered the house, turning the lights on along the way, with Scarlett following a few steps behind him. He had left the chandelier burning in the large, marbled foyer, its warm light dispelling any shadows that might seek to gain sway. From the bottom of the stairs, she watched him range ahead of her, taking two steps at a time as was his way, even with her rucksack slung over his shoulder and her other bag in hand. He paused on the wide landing and turned back, surely having sensed that she still lingered below.
A chill had suddenly run down her spine, and Scarlett’s field of vision seemed to narrow as she gazed up at Hennessy, framed by the vibrant stained glass colors behind him. For the first time, she noticed the window was lit from both above and below, so that its polished surface would gleam even without sunlight streaming through it. Her Artist’s eye saw with clear vision that Hennessy had meant the stained glass to be a stunning showpiece to impress those he invited into his home. Her keen intuition—a gift of her Selkie foremothers, though she knew it not even as it had coloured her perceptions her whole life through—understood that the story which Hennessy’s window told was a statement of who he was, pure and true. And if this is so, she reasoned, as that startling chill felt like cold water running down the nape of her neck to her tailbone, then the Beast at the bottom…the unsettling creature with blue eyes which echo the color of his own…
“Scarlett,” he called down to her, appearing bemused to see her frozen in place, “Whatever are you up to?
She blinked several times, falling out of her reverie, and offered the only answer that might make sense. “It just felt like a goose danced across my grave.” Scarlett ran a hand through her hair, doing her best to bury that revelation deep enough to keep it at bay, and mounted the first step—steadying herself on the handrail, for she would not have her lover see her unsettled, and trembling with anything but desire as she rose up to meet him.
Once she reached his side, Hennessy switched her overnight bag to his other hand so that he could drape his free arm across her shoulders as they climbed the remaining steps which branched off to his bedroom suite. “How about a little nightcap before we retire for the evening, love?” His tone sounded indulgently confidential. “‘Cuz methinks the hours ahead will be filled with thirsty work.”
Having managed to dismiss the surprising bout of unease that had overcome her at the base of his grand staircase, Scarlett allowed herself to envision the sort of ‘work’ Hennessy had in mind. Wondering what he might ask of her first. Certain there was little, if anything, she could deny him. “As you wish, my jo,” she replied, playing at a wistful innocence which she had learned early on he enjoyed. “I shall trust in your guidance to teach me the way.”
Hennessy threw his head back with a deep throated burst of laughter, dropping her bags where he stood and sweeping her up in his arms. He took the last few steps to his massive, ornate bed and tossed her onto its center, still laughing as he did so.
Scarlett cried out in surprise, but having landed atop the thick, cushiony duvet, she gave into laughter as well—until he cast himself down beside her and stopped her mouth with a timeless kiss.
Heaven help me, she was thinking while she succumbed to the passion in his kiss. He’s so very unpredictable, as sudden and startling and—on rare occasions—as frightening, as a rogue wave. But his is a wave that I’m learning to ride, and for now, the exhilaration of it far outweighs the fear.
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Sometime around 4am, Hennessy awoke, needing to use the loo. Scarlett was fast asleep, so that he disentangled himself from her embrace as gingerly as he could, not wanting to disturb her. She made a little sleepy sound, and simply nestled into his pillow as he moved away.
Returning to his bedroom, he saw that she had turned onto her other side, though she remained fully asleep. His heart was, of a sudden, struck by her softness, and by how tranquil she appeared. How, despite having played his wanton through the darkest hours of the night, and having submitted herself repeatedly to his voraciousness, there was still an unsullied innocence about her. In the sweetness of her face in repose; in her fresh, unblemished skin (but for where he had left his marks). His black heart seemed to falter for a moment or two.
Hennessy had believed since the time that he could reason as an adult, that pure, unassailable goodness was an illusion, the construct of philosophers and poets and those deluded by manic religious belief. But here was a form of Goodness quietly nestled amongst the trappings of his debauchery. The Leviathan that curled in his depths, trolling his dark waters, hungering for release and thirsting for the wickedest sorts of satisfaction–-he wondered if at last he’d found it’s opposite. And antidote. Hennessy seriously pondered if Scarlett’s kindly, loving nature might be enough to tame the beast within him…and lead him to a place where his secret self-loathing could at last be tempered by understanding and forgiveness.
He seldom allowed himself to indulge such fantastical thoughts; he was what he was, and knew his own nature well enough to believe he could not change the darkness at his core. And at such times, he told himself he didn’t want to. Nevertheless, he slipped beneath the silken sheets, and gently roused his bonnie lass. As much to see within her sleepy eyes if such a thing was truly possible, as to enjoy the sanctuary of her young and willing body.
And having caught that sweet possibility in the clear, pure blue of those eyes, Hennessy made love to her again, with patient generosity–-and with the uncharacteristic hope that this could be a foretaste of his salvation.
____________________________________________
Saturday morning, and Scarlett had planned on getting up at least an hour before Hennessy, as this day she wanted to serve him breakfast in bed. She had set an alarm on her mobile, but had left it on the lowest volume that would allow her to hear it while not disturbing him. And as often happened with her, she awoke on her own just a few minutes before the alarm went off.
She lay on her back, and he was facing her with his hand resting on her navel, so she moved it away as carefully as she could. Scarlett held her breath a moment, watching to see if that was enough to wake him—but it seemed he was sleeping so deeply that she was in the clear. She paused a few heartbeats, longing to press her lips to his cheek, which bore a shadow of dark auburn stubble, like the hair that dusted his chest. Scarlett could easily imagine how it would feel against her lips. Her cheeks. And anywhere else on her body that he might brush it against.
Stop mooning over the man and get moving, she admonished herself, though she still gave a longing sigh as she turned away, and then crossed to the doorway to gather what she needed to quickly freshen up. Including a lovely, sky blue charmeuse and lace chemise which Scarlett had thought to wear to bed; of course, she should have known that Hennessy’s insatiable appetite wouldn’t have given her that chance.
Once she was satisfied with her appearance, Scarlett collected the supplies she had brought along that would make her breakfast outshine any she would’ve created with the ingredients in Hennessy’s pantry, and then tip toed from the room.
She prepared the scones first, as they required a longer cooking time, and then prepped the croissants while the scones baked. Scarlett found a tray big enough to carry her bounty upstairs, including a fresh pot of tea. Although she preferred Darjeeling or simple English Breakfast tea, she selected the Earl Grey as it would nicely compliment the flavors of her blueberry-lemon scones with lavender glaze. Her other offering was chocolate-almond croissants with hazelnut drizzle. The kitchen was filled with wonderful, delicious scents by the time she was done. At the last moment, she bounded out to Hennessy’s wild grown garden to gather a few, fresh tropical blossoms to lay as garnish on the tray.
Returning to his room, Scarlett found that he had flipped onto his back, with one arm flung across his eyes. She cleared her throat to capture his attention, so that he scooted up to sit against the headboard. “Well, well, well, what do we have here,” Hennessy tutted, “My dear, you prove again that you’re a woman of many tasty talents.” He patted the spot beside him. “And what are you waiting for? I’m famished.”
Carefully, so as not to jostle the teapot, she set the tray across his lap, and then kneeled next to him so that she could pour out, watching as he added two cubes of sugar to his china cup. “No clotted cream?” he teased, having noted its absence on the tray.
“Um, no,” she replied briskly, “But only because your cream has gone over.” She swiped a fingertip across the lavender glaze, and offered him a taste, “But these are sweet enough without the clotted cream…” Hennessy licked the glaze from her finger, then kissed her fingertip, humming deeply, thus causing a little tremor to color her voice, “As I think you will agree.”
“Oh, Scarlett…my Scarlett…” he bit his lips as his eyes roved her face, “What am I to do with you?”
Scarlett lowered her eyes, the heat in his regard making her want to put the tray aside in favor of tasting his kiss. “Anything you wish…Hennessy. Anything,” she answered breathlessly, “And everything you wish.”
Devil that he was, he replied with a satisfied smirk, for he knew damn well that she had given him carte blanche from their very beginning. He picked up a scone, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Darling, the aroma alone promises this will prove nearly as scrumptious as you.”
And apparently it was, as he polished off two scones in quick succession before he even touched one of the croissants, while continuing to complement her every several mouthfuls. Although Scarlett was pleased with Hennessy’s reaction, she maintained to herself that his generous opinion was at least half exaggeration—as though he actually needed to butter her up to have what he desired of her.
When they finished their meal, she collected the tray and headed for the doorway. “And where do you think you’re going right now, young lady?” His tone bordered on stern, but when she turned back to answer, Scarlett found a mischievous Hennessy sitting on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor, and the sheet draped across his lap. “We’ve broken our fast, it’s true, little lamb. But we haven’t quite finished yet, have we?” He crooked his index finger, summoning her back.
Scarlett shrugged and then hovered in place several moments more, simply considering where to set down the tray, and then place it at the base of the door. With the way Hennessy was watching her now, she had to concede that tidying up was meant to wait. She tucked her hands behind her back, dawdling like a wayward child as she approached him, eventually coming to stand between his legs. Savoring the air of expectation simmering between them. Delighting in the rough way that Hennessy took hold of her hips. In the strength of his unyielding hands and in the way pulled her down onto the bed beside him.
And in his kisses, of course.
Slow and thorough and deep, with the sweet tastes of her baked goods lingering on his tongue. Scarlett felt she couldn’t get enough of that flavor, as she suckled it within her mouth and absorbed the low moans he couldn’t contain. Face to face they lay, with Hennessy cupping her breast through her thin chemise.
She had threaded her arm beneath his, splaying her hand on his back—ignoring for once, the raised scars there which normally troubled her so—and soon sliding it along his spine to finally lay a hold of his firm arse. Unused to even that small yet bold advance from her, he chuckled and broke their kiss. “Wicked Scarlett,” he nipped at her swollen lips, “My sweet…wicked…girl. Have you taken all your lessons to heart?”
“Every one of them, darling,” she sighed, deeply lost in her mounting desire for him, “It’s like you’ve branded them on my soul…”
“Then show me,” he rumbled, turning onto his back and urging her atop him, “And please yourself as you please me.”
This was something new. Never before had he even seemed to cede control to her. Scarlett straddled his hips, leaving the sheet to cover his groin just to begin with. She lowered her face to spoil his throat and neck and along his collarbone with sloppy kisses, repeatedly returning to tease his lips with the promise of kisses without delivering them. Testing how far she could push him before he demanded them of her. She learned his limit when he bunched one hand in her hair, holding her face close while raising his head to crash his mouth to hers, finally taking what she’d dangled before him. When Hennessy let his head fall back, he smiled up at her roguishly, “Top form, Ms. Campbell…but don’t test my patience too much…”
“Of course, Professor,” she replied, instilling her voice with the breathlessness she knew he enjoyed. Scarlett sat up straight, smoothly peeling her chemise off, and then casting it carelessly away, “You caution is duly noted…”
He hummed his approval, his mercurial eyes raking across her breasts. Growling his appreciation. “Caution be damned, Scarlett. You look like…Christ…like some porcelain fleshed pagan goddess. Like the goddess of love out of Celtic myth, come to tempt me out of my wits to trade my soul for your love…”
Scarlett drew a true faltering breath this time, for his piercing blue eyes spoke his exclamation as sincere—making her wonder if this interlude was but a dream, “If that was so, my love would still be freely given to you. To you alone.” As it is now, from the depths of my soul.
Hennessy nodded, as if he had read that thought upon her face, and he cast her a quirk of one brow. He’d planted his hands on her hips, but then took his cue from the slow arch of her breasts, taking them into his cool hands. Their touch making her shiver despite the heat suffusing her body. He spread wide his fingers, circling his thumbs upon her stiffened peaks. Scarlett closed her eyes, moved to give a long, soft moan, cupping one hand hard against his, shivering again when he husked, “That’s my girl…she knows what she likes…” Hennessy tweaked the nipple of her other breast, adding, “...she knows what she needs…don’t you baby?”
“Mmmmmmmm…yes…oh, yeeeeees…I need you, Hennessy…only you…”
He was rocking his hips up, just shy of direct contact with her slickening pussy, the sheet the final barrier between them. “I need you too, baby. And you know what to do…”
She managed to look down at Hennessy and found he was biting his lip, with that gorgeous flush covering his chest again; Scarlett had to bite her own lip to keep from exclaiming aloud how beautiful he was. Leaning closer to him, she pressed kisses across his blushing skin, before bracing herself on his bicep, while tugging the sheet aside with her other hand, sliding her body further down and lodging his erection beneath her. Allowing her to rub herself against him.
He welcomed the first pass of her wet folds along his stiff length with a throaty groan, then began to match her movements stroke for stroke. Soon Scarlett shifted, grinding herself in slow circles against his leaking shaft, reversing direction again and again, while lowering her face to sample the salt of his skin of his chest with her tongue and graze the edge of his nipples with her teeth.
Such brazenness from her took him by surprise, making Hennessy buck up hard against her core, while uttering a couple of curses under his breath. “Have I done something wrong,” she teased, knowing she had not, and feeling an intoxication with her own power to please and to take pleasure as well. Surely as her iniquitous lover had intended her to learn.
“You’re perfect,” he groaned, grinding against her as hard as he could. “So fecking perfect–but show me, Scarlett,” he demanded, fingers pressing hard into the flesh of her hips, “Show me what…comes…next.”
She blinked like a true innocent several times, but wore the barest hint of a knowing smile as she raised her arms above her head. Purposefully stretching all the way to her fingertips, loving how free and wanton she felt. Hennessy drew a deep, whistling breath as he watched and waited, and Scarlett was keenly aware that his was admiring the full, firm curve of her breasts as she stretched.
”Mmmmmm,” she purred, bending low to brush them against his chest, her mouth falling open with the bliss of resuming the slow slide of her vulva along his length from tip to base, and back again and again. He had closed his eyes and was breathing in time with the steady rhythm she had set. “Does this work for you, darling?”
“Mmmm…mmmm…mmmmmmm,” he hummed, tangling both hands in her hair, rocking his pelvis to meet her strokes, “Fuck yes!” Hennessy lightly tugged at her roots, “And don’t you dare stop, little lamb…I’d have to spank your bottom if you did…”
Scarlett gave a little gasp, for somehow the scandalous thought of him doing so, flooded her pale cheeks with ruddy heat and caused her to tighten her pelvis muscles. While making her feel like she was dripping wet.
And somehow he knew–for he chuckled, and ground himself even harder against her.
A short while more, and Scarlett was moved enough to sit upright, her need to have him inside her become too strong for further delay. She pouted to have to separate from him, but only for as long as it took to grasp his thick shaft in one hand and center herself above it. “Go slowly, little lamb,” he bid her. “It’ll feel even better that way…”
“Yes...yes...” she panted, teasing them both by lingering the weeping head of his cock at her slit. She lasted as long as she could that way, the torture of the tease exquisite, too delicious to resist. The strong muscles of his thighs were tight with tension beneath her, and his patience astounded her. But Scarlett needed to be filled and just couldn’t wait any longer.
Holding him firmly, she guided his bell-end just inside her slick entry, and then gradually broached herself upon him. Hennessy was remarkably indulgent, allowing Scarlett the latitude to explore what felt best. Murmuring husky encouragements amid groans of pleasure as she found her way--and once she held him firmly inside her, reaching for her hips again to guide her movements.
Scarlett placed her hands stop his, panting softly, “Is this...is this good for you...Hennessy?”
She gasped at his response--a swift, hard thrust, before settling back beneath her, grunting his answer. “Christ, yes...just keep...following...what your body’s...telling you to do.”
With that affirmation, Scarlett’s confidence grew and soon she was rotating her hips in circles, thriving on the steady sound of his groans and the strength of his upward thrusts. This was a heaven she had never imagined. Asserting her will while reaping such sublimely pleasurable rewards!
And then it struck her to lean back a bit, which Hennessy greeted with a surprised grunt. “Oh my god...ooooooh...myyyyyy...gaaaaaawd...”Scarlett panted with each merciless pump upwards, aware of every majestic inch of him. She could swear he was hitting a spot just below her navel, and when she reached back to support herself on his knees, the pressure of her nethers was breathtaking.
“Fuck yes, Scarlett...” Hennessy shouted, grabbing onto her knees to keep her steady, “...fuck, baby...you were made for this...” And then shamelessly putting voice to what she was feeling, “...like you were made for me...”
Love--and the relief of hearing him exclaim her secret belief--filled her chest. “Yes..oh yes...god help me, yes,” she whispered, unable to delay her body’s imperative a moment longer, rocking forward as the waves of her orgasm overpowered her. Triggering the powerful spasms of Hennessy’s release and a mighty sigh of relief to rise from his core.
Scarlett was trembling all over, blood brimming over with loves hormones, weak and panting quietly as her body returned to equilibrium. She was fighting off the intense compulsion to whisper the most forbidden words of all. That she was made for more than the passionate lovemaking they shared; that she knew in her bones she had been made to love him.
Regretfully, she left off from their intimate connection, and settled at Hennessy’s side so that she could nest her head in the crook of his neck, concealing the emotions which were likely to overwhelm her.
Hennessy gave a satisfied sigh and brushed her hair behind her ear. Unerring in picking up on her state of mind. “It’s alright, my dear.” He sounded amused, but also resolute as he reminded her, “There are things best left unspoken. As I believe I have warned you from the start...”
Scarlett nodded her compliance, for she couldn’t speak, lest her voice betray the depth of those feelings he held forestalled.
“As long as you remember that, my lovely little lamb,” he continued sagely, “I promise things will go on between us.” Hennessy cupped her cheek while his voice dropped low, “Getting better and better each time...don’t you agree?”
“Uh-huh,” she sighed, resigned to the rules he had laid down from their first interaction.
“That’s my good girl,” he concluded, abruptly sitting up. Hennessy took to his feet and grabbed his teacup from the bedside table, downing the dregs before crossing around his bed on the way to the loo. “Alas though--playtime is over for now, love...”
She was sitting up as he lingered in the doorway, having gathered up the sheet to cover her naked vulnerability. He smiled brightly, confiding before he closed the door, “You’ve been the very best girl I’ve had in quite some time, little lamb. I trust you won’t do anything to change my mind on that.”
Scarlett laid down again, wrapped up in the silk sheet, ensconced in the good musk of their shared sin. Seriously wondering how much longer she could continue to hold her tongue from proclaiming the undeniable truth. That she loved him, deeply and passionately, well beyond any hope he would someday feel the same.
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tagging: @thelostsmiles @splunge4me2art @letterstosherlock @tsukuyomi011 @aeterna-auroral-avenger @strangesunicornsparkle @ravencatart @khan-stid @doctor-stephenstrange @humanbornarchangel @ben-c-group-therapy @frowerssx2 @elizaaugust @fluffy935 @celestialsmessy1 @cumbercougars
#my writing#Scarlett and the Professor#romance#passion#lust#love#smut#Scarlett Campbell#OFC#Professor Hennessy#OMC#not my OMC and used with permission#(as long as tacit permission remains)#Hennessy#lemon#chock full of lemony goodness#and for those who read deep into my tags#this *may* be the first line of my next installment#(Hennessy thinking)#Goddammit that was a really close call!
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“ᴡᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴꜱ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟꜰ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ.” - Gerald Hausman
The moon rises cold and clear, washing everything in bright, luminous white. There is a beast howling in your blood, and you will appease it.
You must.
Hello everyone, and welcome to the first (hopefully of many) Full Moon challenge! I write a lot of horror, and I’ve run a horror challenge before, and it seemed like folks had a lot of fun participating in it, so I came up with another one. I love werewolves and shapeshifter mythologies; I love reading about the uncontrollable chaos monster inside, the dark part of a person that maybe doesn’t hate the violence the change brings as much as they say they do—and that’s your briefing.
Craft a story centered around werewolves or shapeshifters or werethings that go bump in the night when the moon is heavy and full. This is not an A/B/O challenge, though I don’t mind a little healthy overlap. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to hit my inbox with them! As always, I reserve the right to not reblog any content I feel is harmful or offensive, etc.
Rules
1. This is a werewolf challenge, which means the theme must be paramount and clearly visible. Whether that’s a werewolf!Reader, MMC, family member, organization, etc, it must be present for your fic to be eligible. Use the tag #Beastyoumadeofme22 for your work!
2. *Most* tropes are welcome. Dark, Mafia, etc, but please no DDLG, watersports/scat, etc etc.
3. No extreme or explicit word limit, but if your fic is multiple parts, let’s keep it to three individual installments unless permission is otherwise granted.
4. Original works only, please! If it is part of an existing series or story, your fic MUST be able to be read and understood as a standalone piece.
5. You do not have to be following me to participate, but it would be nice!
6. You don’t have to pick a song, but I am only allowing two authors per song prompt. If we run out, I can add more!
7. I’d like to keep this challenge to xReader for now, so no OFC’s/OMC’s!
8. This challenge will only run for one lunar cycle, aka one month, from Friday April 1st to Saturday April 30th. However, if the response is good, I’ll run it every couple of months!
9. If this challenge isn’t sparking joy, it’s okay to sit it out! There will be more!
10. Your story does not have to include smut, but because I know my mutuals, audience and general blog content, it is 18+ ONLY. Which means Minors, Do NOT interact. (That being said, I obviously support monsterfucking %1000 👀)
Song list (optional)
Howl — Florence and the Machine (@helenaeisenhower) (@lokislastlove)
Wolf like me — Tv on the Radio
Tear you Apart — She Wants Revenge (@unfortunate-brat)
She Wolf — Shakira (@mrs-mischief-209)
White Demon Love Song — The Killers (@jtargaryen18)
Dead Souls — Nine Inch Nails
Red Right Hand — Nick Cave
Runs in the Family — Amanda Palmer
Feral Love — Chelsea Wolfe
O Death — Kate Mann
Trouble — Cage the Elephant
mercy — King Mala
God’s Gonna Cut You Down — Johnny Cash
Animals — Maroon 5
Hardest of Hearts — Florence and the Machine
Run — Hozier
Cry Little Sister — Marilyn Manson
Free the animal — Sia
Toes — Glass Animals
The Cure — Tegan and Sara
Tusk — Fleetwood Mac
Bad things — Jace Everett
Policy of Truth — Depeche Mode
My own summer — Deftones
Paradise Circus — Massive Attack
Angel — Massive Attack
Ugo — The Dead Pirates
The Hills — The Weeknd
Gods and Monsters — Lana Del Rey
Life 2: The Unhappy Ending — Stars
No Sunlight — Death Cab for Cutie
Walking with a Ghost — Tegan and Sara
Celebrity Skin — Hole (@boxofbonesfic)
Lose Your Soul — Dead Man’s Bones
#Full Moon Challenge#werewolf challenge#fanfiction challenge#marvel fanfiction#Chris evans x reader#steve rogers x reader#chris evans characters#sebastian stan characters#tom holland x reader#tom holland characters#mcu fanfiction#mcu AU
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Power Struggle
Hi! I've only been a lurker on tumblr and recently have gotten inspiration and courage to post my stories publicly for the first time in almost two decades. All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
This story isn’t Charlie Hunnam specific, but he was definitely my muse in writing this.
Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Plot: A man pays a visit to his favorite stripper after coming home from a business trip.
Pairing: Charlie-inspired OMC x OFC
Contains: sex between a John and a stripper, face slapping, power play, lap dancing, choking
“Play With Me” by Rendezvous At Two was one of my favorite songs to help me get into the mindset while writing this. It really helps set the mood.
Hope you enjoy! 😁
Also want to give a very special shout out to @hotdamnhunnam 💕
A gentleman in a dark suit is sitting at the bar and sipping on his bourbon as he looks up and watches her bend, swing and climb all over the pole. Even though there are two other women on stage, he only sees her.
After her set ends, she collects her money and gets off the stage. He watches her every move and he smirks and licks his lips when he realizes she's sashaying towards him. He turns his body towards her on his stool as she walks up to him.
"Hey, I haven't seen you in a while," she greets him.
"Yeah, I know. I've been busy. I just got back from a business trip a few days ago."
"Oh, really? Where'd you go? How was your trip?" She asks, leaning on the bar edge.
"I went to the West Coast. LA and then Vegas for two weeks. A little tiring but I enjoyed it. How are you?" He asks.
"I'm doing all right. Can't complain much," She smiles. "You look like you can use a little relaxation from all that traveling," She says as she runs a manicured hand over his thigh.
He glances down at her hand on his thigh and then back up at her.
She takes his hand and leads him to a private room on the second floor. As they walk past the security guard, she nonchalantly slips the guard a few large bills. She opens the door to their usual room and lets him inside. The lights are dim and the music isn't as loud as it is on the main floor. They can comfortably have a conversation without needing to shout. He takes his suit jacket off and places it on the black studded leather couch. He sits down and gets comfortable, leaning back with one hand on his lap and his other arm spread out resting on the top of the couch.
She slowly walks up to him. Her hand gently grabs his fuzzy, blonde chin. He looks up at her, admiring her beauty. He bites his lower lip seeing her bright red pouty lips. It's his favorite shade.
"What do you want tonight, baby?" She asks.
"How about a dance first? I've missed you, sweetheart." He takes her hand from his chin and kisses her palm. She caresses his cheek with the same hand then suddenly she slaps him across the face, leaving him with a smug look.
"You didn't ask for permission to touch me," She says.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know I've been away for too long." he replies, rubbing his jaw. "But I'm here now, aren't I?"
She crosses her arms.
"Don't be mad. I got you something from my trip." He takes a box out from his jacket pocket and hands it to her.
She takes a moment before she takes it from him. She opens up the box and finds a shiny pearl necklace.
"A classy piece for a classy woman," He says as he stands up, his 6'1" figure towering over her.
She looks at him with a beaming smile. She turns around as he takes the necklace and then puts it on her. She turns back around to face him.
"Beautiful." He looks down at her and smiles.
She smiles back and leans in closer to his face and then shoves him so he falls back on to the couch. She starts to slowly sway her hips to the music. He takes in every inch of her: from her long dark waves to her black and red mesh bra, thong and garter belt, down to her sheer black seamed thigh highs and black patent leather pumps, and stopping at her bright colored tattoos wherever he sees them.
She runs her hands over her body as she continues to sway to the music. She saunters back towards him and places her hands on top of his thighs and begins lowering herself down to the ground while maintaining eye contact. She settles between his legs and dips her face down very close to his crotch. He groans slightly as he watches. She starts slowly sliding her hands up his inner thighs and moves up his body, avoiding his crotch, over to his torso and his chest. When she reaches his shoulders, she climbs up onto the couch and straddles him but doesn't sit on his lap. She grabs his tie and pulls his face closer to her breasts. He stares at her chest for a moment and scans his eyes to her delicate neck and then up back to her face.
She gets off of him, turns around and then slowly bends over, touching her ankles. She looks back at him as she slides back up at the same snail's pace. He shifts in his seat as his pants are fitting a little tighter. She backs herself onto his lap and starts rolling her hips, rubbing her ass against his crotch. He looks down and licks his lips as he watches. She then leans back, pressing her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder as she continues to grind against him. She takes his hands and places them on the side of her hips and starts sliding them over the top of her thighs and towards her inner thighs.
"I missed you so much," He says into her ear as his breathing gets heavier.
She reaches her hand up behind her to cup his face and turns her head to face him. She slowly moves her face in closer to his and they both glance down at each others lips. Right as he leans in closer, she promptly pushes herself off of him and turns to face him. He adjusts himself in his seat again but this time he looks more uncomfortable.
She straddles him but this time actually sits on his lap, feeling how hard he is. She leans in and starts placing little kisses along his jaw and working her way up to his ear. She then grabs his hands and places them behind her back.
"Take it off," She whispers into his ear before tugging his lobe between her teeth. He groans.
He swiftly unhooks her bra and she pulls back letting the bra fall off. She tosses it aside. She thrusts her chest into his face again. He swallows hard as he stares at them.
"Can I please touch your breasts?" She smirks at his question. She grabs his hands and runs his palms over her bare breasts.
She grinds against him and leans into him and starts kissing and sucking on his neck, making him moan. She starts slowly undoing his belt and the fly of his pants. She reaches into his pants and releases his straining erection. She starts stroking him.
"Fuck..." His breathing is getting shorter and more shallow.
She watches him while she continues to slowly stroke him. He looks back with complete lust in his eyes. She leans in and presses her forehead against his, then teasing his lips with hers.
"Can I please kiss you?" He pants.
"Well that depends," She replies as she still continues to tease and torture him.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he answers too quickly.
"Anything?" She asks with a raised eye brow. "You should think about what you say before you get yourself in trouble." She then takes one of his hands and places it over her crotch.
"You are worth it," He moans.
She quietly moans as she grinds against his hand.
"Did you bring any?" She bites her lower lip.
"Yes," he manages to breath out. He quickly reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a wrapped condom. She takes it and tears it open with her teeth and then rolls it down over his hard cock. She studies his face as she hovers over him, sliding her panties over and rubbing the tip of his cock over her wet slit.
"Please," He pleads.
She watches his face while she slowly slips only the tip in and out of her.
"You're such a fucking tease," he says barely above a whisper and with lust-filled eyes.
"Only because I know how much you love it," She says, slipping two fingers into his mouth. He licks and gently sucks on them as she slowly pulls them out. Then without warning, she sinks down and takes all of him in. They both moan as she starts to ride him.
"Oh, sweetheart, I missed you so fucking much," He runs his hands up and down her sides.She grabs his face and brings her lips close to his as she continues to bounce on his lap.
"Why do we always have to meet this way, huh?" he asks slightly above a whisper.
She starts riding him faster and harder.
"No," He grabs on to her hips tightly and holds her down against his lap to stop her from moving. "I know what you're trying to do."
"And what am I trying to do?" She starts to gyrate her hips a little.
"You're just trying to make me cum quick, but I know you want this to last as much as I do." His hand moves between them and he starts rubbing his thumb over her clit. She throws her head back and moans as she rocks herself against him.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let me take you home with me." He runs his mouth along the side of her neck. When she starts to ride him again, he grabs her wrists, pins them behind her back and pulls her in closer to him.
"Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved," his mouth continues to ravage her neck. She loses herself for a moment as his soft lips and scratchy beard brushes against the sensitive spot on her neck. "Like the fucking goddess that you are."
She snaps out of her trance and loosens her grip from him, then pins his wrists to his sides.
"Again, you didn't ask for permission to touch me." She slaps his face again.
"You're extra feisty today," He smirks.
"Shut up and enjoy the ride." She braces herself on his shoulders and continues to ride him. She closes her eyes as she concentrates on the feeling in her gut spreading down between her legs.
"Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you cum all over my cock." He pants.
Her eyes flutter open as she feels her orgasm around the corner.
"I want you to remember who's cock you missed, remember who's cock is making you feel this good at this moment."
She moans as she rides him harder and faster. She's losing control but she doesn't care anymore.
"There you go. Come on, sweetheart. Let's cum together." He takes one of his hands and caresses the front of her throat before wrapping his fingers around it.
Her eyes widen as he squeezes gently.
"Cum for me, kitten."
She lets go completely and moans his name as her pussy milks his cock. He thrusts up as he lets his load go. Their rocking starts slowing down as they both try to catch their breaths.
"I missed you too." She finally says and kisses him.
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Sand and Stars - Chapter Seven
Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?
Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: 18+, character death, angst, blood, gore, mentions of war, military technicalities (thread with caution)
A/N: This chapter was very difficult to write as I hadn’t written about losing a loved one before. But the entire experience of delving into the psyche of someone who is troubled by such loss was heart-breaking. I also took some inspiration from the song Hold On by Chord Overstreet. Also, I know I include army warfare a little bit, the references is only limited to what I know from media, I’m sorry for any inaccuracies.
As always, @thelastsock was the helpful beta with her wonderful ideas. I love you for being with me while I write this series.
*gif credit to owner
<Chapter Six
Title: Chapter Seven
Darkness. Pain. Screaming. Olivia groaned as she tried to move. Her head throbbed along her temple, the helmet feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds. She opened her eyes, wincing at the light and heat that assaulted her. The shrill ringing in her ears making it difficult to concentrate on the next step. Wet sand and soil caking her skin as she tried to rub her face into some semblance of painless clarity. Her leg. The pain getting more intense as her leg swam into focus. No obvious injuries, maybe a fracture.
She blinked her eyes slowly, taking in her surroundings and finally registering what had happened. A straining wail sounded from the wreckage of their chopper. Gary. She pushed herself on her hands wincing as pain shot up her shoulder. She glanced at her arm; a piece of metal was sticking out from it. With a trembling hand, she took a deep breath and pulled the metal shard out, tears brimming in her eyes as blood oozed out from the gash running in rivulets and soaking her sleeve. She applied pressure on her wound, pressing her eyes shut as she tried to breathe through her pain.
Another painful wail sounded from the side of wreckage, making her grab onto the broken blades of the chopper sticking out from the sand to steady herself. She dragged her feet on the soil, stumbling to reach where her Sergeant was.
When she rounded the body of the Little Bird, she wasn't quite sure what she was seeing. Odd angles and red. So much red. Schmidt pinned under the tail. Blood spurting out his mouth with every breath. His leg was being crushed by the metal wreck and his arm was twisted in an inhuman angle with crimson liquid matting his entire body. Olivia fell to her knees next to her friend, sobs leaving her lips and tears streaming down her soiled cheeks.
“Gary, hey, hold on.” She unclasped the belt of his helmet, pulling it off and throwing it away.
Schmidt took a shuddering breath when Olivia took his hands in his. “I-I don’t…”
“You won’t,” She interjected, understanding exactly what he wanted to say. She lied. She knew he was going to bleed out and she wouldn’t be able to help. She blinked away the welling tears and looked around trying to spot anyone in their vicinity. The faint sound of gunshots came from a distance. “Someone will come looking for us.” She tried to speak with confidence, but her voice was faltering as Schmidt’s grip loosened in her hand.
“My wife…my kids…” He stuttered, blood beginning to flow out of his nostrils. “Tell them…I will always…love them.”
“You tell them that yourself, Gary. You hear me?” She grabbed at his fatigues, fisting them in her blood covered hand. “You are not dying.” She could hear his breath coming out short as he gasped for air.
Gary elicited a mixture of laugh and a cry, tears streaming down the side of his face, making a trail on his dusty skin. “C’mon Red…we know…I’m short of time.”
Liv held onto his hand again desperately trying to will him away from the clutches of death. She watched with hazy eyes as her friend held onto the last thread of life, gasping in air and spitting out blood. Her mind pictured the time she had met his wife and his children; how his life partner had made Olivia promise she’d keep her husband safe. Her heart ached as she watched her best friend, her family, slipping from her hands.
The unmistakable rumble of a Humvee’s engine soared Olivia’s hope to save her friend. Over a rocky sand dune, the beige metal vehicle rode up and made its way towards them. She laughed at the realization that they were her men, coming to save them.
“Gary…” She began, only to look down and be met with the vacant eyes of her Sergeant staring blankly up into the sky. There were no more shaky breaths leaving from his unmoving lips, his body laid limply, and his hand slipped from hers. “No, no, no.” She stuttered her words, trying to shake him awake.
“Sergeant!” Her men's voices mixed into one another as they called out. She offered no resistance as they hauled her up by her shoulders and hustled her into the back of the Humvee.
Everything was a clouded haze after that. She had watched as Gary’s lifeless body was slid in the tight space between them. Sloan called out to her from beside her, but Liv’s voice seemed to have gotten trapped in her throat. Someone had closed Gary’s eyes for which Olivia was thankful. At least now she didn’t have to look into his eyes and be met with the disappointment in failing to save his life.
***
Sy paced in front of the gate, glancing at his watch and back to the road. He had been informed at the camp about the situation. His heart was racing, he hated not knowing. He expected the worst, always, but not knowing who was coming back in a body bag had him on edge.
As the whirring blades of the Medevac came into view, so did the vehicles making their way towards the gate. He stepped to the side as the metal barriers were opened, letting the cars enter the compound. Everyone rushed to the injured team; bruised and battered soldiers climbed out of the cars. Sy spotted Sierra who was clutching her bleeding shoulder, two other men drenched in blood being helped to the helicopter. When he saw Olivia stumble out of the back of the Humvee, his heart dropped.
Liv looked like she was walking in a daze. Her arm was covered in blood, soil and sand matted on her face and she limped when she walked. Sy gently placed a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention to him.
“Liv,” He said cautiously. When her eyes met his they looked lost, distant and far away.
“I’m okay.” Her brittle voice cut through Sy’s heart. She nudged his hand away from her shoulder and limped her way towards the building where the infirmary was housed, not even glancing behind as the Medevac team lifted off from the ground.
It took Sy hours before he could visit Liv alone. He couldn’t have abandoned his duties as a Captain while people under his wing had been injured and killed. But he kept a tab on her by asking Sloan about her whereabouts. Liv had gotten herself bandaged and had chosen to retire to their quarters. It was late in the evening when he was finally done with calls with his superiors and with briefing the team.
Sy stood outside the door to the ladies quarter unsure of what lay ahead. He knocked sharply on the wooden door. When he got no response he pushed the door open, hinges protesting the movement as he peered inside the dark room. He glanced at the two empty beds on the opposite side which possibly belonged to Sloan and Sierra. BJ had asked permission to let Sloan stay with him tonight and Sierra was at the base in Baghdad which left Liv alone in the room. He stepped inside tentatively and spotted her on the bed shoved right at the corner of the room.
Liv was hunched over with her wet hair falling over her shoulder, shielding her face from Sy. The sleeve of her t-shirt was rolled up with a white bandage covering her arm, a crimson patch in the middle of it. He closed the door behind him and slowly walked towards her. Droplets of water fell from the ends of her red locks, pooling on the floor next to her feet.
Sy debated whether he should sit next to her. He understood very well everything she was going through. He had lost buddies in combat; the first time was always the hardest. He wanted to comfort her and make her understand that this is the life they chose for themselves.
“It should have been me.” Her voice was barely audible, little over a whisper. Her hands covered her face with her elbows resting on her knees. “It should have been me, Sy.”
“Hey, don’t say that.” He brought his hand to place on her shoulder, but she flinched away. Sy felt dejected but he withdrew his hand away. “We all signed up for this. We know what there is to lose.”
“I should have been careful. I should have done something to save him.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“Liv,” he started, braving to put his hand on her shoulder yet again only for Olivia to abruptly stand up. Her eyes blazed red, puffy with the tears. Her lips quivered as she stared at him, clutching her arm as the bandage was painted with more blood seeping from the wound.
“Just say it, Sy, say it was my fault.”
Sy stood up as his hands balled into fists. He wanted to be Liv’s confidant, but she was pushing him away. “It wasn’t.” He replied sternly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You stop berating yourself. You are a soldier, Liv.” He blamed it on tiredness for he did not mean to sound condescending. He quickly understood his mistake, his face softening as Olivia took a step away from him. “Liv,” he pleaded, extending his hand towards her.
“It should have been me! Gary’s death is on me!” She screamed with fresh tears running down her cheeks. “He has a family. He has…people waiting for him. And I…I-” her shoulder shook as ripples of sobs gripped her. She covered her face with her hands again, shielding herself away from Sy’s eyes.
This time Sy pulled her against his chest without hesitation. Liv tried prying herself away from him, but he held her strongly against his body. She gave in soon, burying her face in his chest and soaking his shirt with her tears. He ran his hand through her hair soothing her and shushing her.
“There’s no one waiting for me back home. No one to cry if I die.” She mumbled between her sobs, sniffling and gasping with the onslaught of grief. “Gary had a family, Sy. What will… what will I tell his wife?” She grasped at his t-shirt, desperately trying to cling to the last hope of sanity.
Sy held onto her like she was the most fragile being on this planet. He tightened his arms around her, wanting to shield her from the world and its sadness. He wanted to take away her pain. He would take it upon himself if he could. Sy rocked her lightly, whispering words of comfort as well as he could. He could not comprehend how bruised her soul was to think no one would cry for her if she died. A cold shiver ran down his spine even thinking about it.
After a long time Sy carefully turned her in his arms. She opened her puffy eyes, fluttering them slightly. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” He ushered her towards the bed and gently sat her down. She laid down on her side, curling up in a ball with her hands wound around her chest. He pulled the thin blanket over her, tucking the ends beneath the mattress. Sy caressed her cheeks with his hand, wiping away the tear stains on her cheek.
He didn’t want to leave her alone. She was vulnerable and had dropped all her guards down. She was too stubborn to ask for comfort, but he could sense she hankered for his solace. Sy understood under the strong-willed demeanor, Liv wanted to be defenseless. She peered at him with half-lidded eyes without uttering a word.
Kicking his boots off, Sy climbed on the bed to lie beside Liv. He gathered her in his arms, letting her shelter in the bend of his elbow. He pulled the blanket over their bodies, draping an arm over her torso. He entwined his fingers in Liv’s hair, running his fingers along her scalp. Liv dozed off not a moment later, holding him close to her like she was afraid to let him go.
Sy kept drifting in and out of sleep with every stir of Liv’s body. She whimpered in her sleep in the middle of the night with the onslaught of nightmares entering her mind. Sy whispered words of comfort in her ears, running his hand soothingly over her back. Sloan had returned at the early hours of dawn looking like she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep either. But when she had spotted Sy cradling Liv against his body, she had excused herself and left them alone again.
***
It hadn’t been easy for her to cope with the loss of her friend. Olivia had watched with tear filled eyes as they had loaded up Gary’s trunk to be sent to base. She had grazed her fingertips over his name tag sending a silent prayer to where he now rested. It was only when the Humvee had rolled out, Liv had caught sight of Sy watching her from his post.
That night she had felt like her entire being had shattered into a thousand pieces. She had lost loved ones before, but watching someone die in your arms, her best friend, had terrified her. She blamed herself for it.
If only I could have been alert. If I hadn’t failed to save him. If…
There were so many ‘ifs’ circling in her mind, she laid awake every night thinking what she could have done otherwise.
Sy had decided to give her some space. He had been quiet and allowed her to heal in her own time. She was grateful for that. She just wasn’t ready to break down in his arms again. She was afraid if she let him get too close to her and if she were to lose him too, she wouldn’t survive.
It had been fifteen whole days since she had last stepped out into the field. Her leg had been healing, her stitches still fresh, for which Sy had ordered her to stay at camp. She had waddled around the compound, finished paperwork for the men and worked out to release the mixture of anger and sadness bunching up inside her.
She had thought she would be able to handle it but glancing at the hilltop where she had held her dying friend, had brought everything back to her. Sy had looked at her, his eyes covered with his shades, with his mouth pressed into a thin line. He had accompanied them for their mission to receive the food truck, something he hadn’t done before. She had maintained her distance from him, choosing to stay with her own people. It had felt odd being on the ground when she was used to soaring high above everyone else in her chopper.
Back at the camp, her leg throbbed from walking on the uneven terrain. She winced as her hand grazed over the bandage on her sore calf, still hurting from the gash she had taken from the debris. Olivia took in a sharp breath as waves of nauseating pain crashed against her sleep deprived mind. She sat down on the steps of the building, gently massaging her throbbing muscle to ease the pain.
“You okay?” Sy sat beside her on the steps. Involuntarily she felt herself scooting away from him. She wasn’t sure what she was trying to gain from keeping him at arm’s length. He was being gentle, understanding, sympathetic, everything she needed right now. But something stopped her.
“Yeah. Just a little sore.” She refused to make eye-contact with him.
Sy seemed to have gotten the message as he scooted a little to the side. From the corner of her eyes Liv noticed Sy let out a sigh, rubbing his beard with his hand. It was weeks ago when she had felt his arms around her, locking her in his embrace, making her feel safer than anyone ever could.
“Are you sleeping alright?” He asked, adjusting his gun beside him.
“Yeah.”
“Are you telling the truth?” His voice was stern, and he turned slightly to look at her. She knew her words betrayed the reality, the bags under her eyes were evidence of her tired, sleepless nights. But even so, she nodded her head.
Another sigh left his lips. “Liv, I know you want to be strong, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m worried about you. I want to be there for you.” Sy reached his hand out and placed it over hers. Giving a gentle squeeze he pleaded, “Just let me in.”
Liv allowed herself to glance at him. His eyes were soft, worry marked with wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. He held sincerity in them, a hope that formed a crack in the wall Liv had built around her.
“Sy,” They were interrupted by his Lieutenant. “We need you in the office.”
Sy nodded at them, bringing his gaze back to Liv. He gently smiled at her, bringing his hand to her face. “I’m here for you.” He whispered before standing up and walking inside the building. She watched as he strutted towards his office, talking to his Lieutenant and discussing their matter at hand.
That night, Liv stayed awake in her bed. The chatter outside their room was dying out as midnight approached. Sloan was passed out on her bed; gently snoring while being wrapped in her blanket. Liv glanced at the empty bed that had belonged to Sierra. She had gotten severely injured in the attack. In the days Liv had stayed at the camp, she had a SAT call with her comrade about her corporal. Sierra had been sent home after the surgery she had to endure from the bullet wounds. Liv had been relieved to know she was at least alive.
When the lights cut out at midnight, shrouding the camp in darkness, Liv sat up in her bed. Sy’s words kept ringing in her ears. She didn’t want to push him away. She wanted a safe place. She wanted to feel something other than pain.
And so, she stood, outside his door in the dead of the night. She stared at his door, debating whether she should just return to her bed. She wasn’t even sure if Sy was in his room. With a timid knock, Liv stood with her arms hanging by her side. Her heart picked up a pace as she counted the seconds in her head until the door cracked open.
Sy had a scowl on his face when he opened the door, which eased as soon as he noted Liv standing outside his door. He watched her with a softened gaze as she took a step forward.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” Her voice trembled as she spoke. She gulped, fearing he would drive her away.
But he did not push her away. He extended his arm open, tilting his head slightly and a gentle smile on his lips. “Of course.”
Liv buried her face in his chest wounding her arms around his frame. Sy closed the door, holding her firmly against his body, circling her with his arms. He rested his cheek against her head, letting silence fill in the space that didn’t require words.
Liv could feel it then. Her walls being broken brick by brick by Sy. She felt safe, warmth seeping into her heart as he held her close to him.
Chapter Eight>
🌟 Series Masterlist 🌟
#Captain syverson#Captain Syverson fanfic#captain syverson x ofc#captain syverson angst#tw:character death#tw: angst#henry cavill#Henry Cavill fics#henry cavill fanfic#sand and stars series
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Out of the Gutter
Pairing: Starker, minor Peter/OMC
Rating: Explicit (E)
Notes: Uhhh I apologize in advance for this one y’all. 😂
Length: 5.5k~
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Extreme Dubcon, Underage, Incest, Underage Drinking, Drug Use, Minor Violence,
Read here or on AO3.
“Peter! Peter, this is amazing!”
Ned’s excited voice knocked Peter’s attention out of the textbook he was reading in the library during an impromptu study session with MJ. Peter shrank in his seat, feeling dozens of eyes staring them down. He shot a pleading look at Ned and watched as he slowly exhaled, tension running out of his shoulders, before he slid into the seat across from Peter at the table.
“Guys!” Ned whispered excitedly. “They came!”
“What came?” Peter stared blankly at Ned.
Ned looked around furtively, leaning forward to be closer to Peter and MJ. “The fakes.”
Peter felt a jolt of excitement run through his body, sharing a conspiratorial glance with his best friends as Ned started to draw a plain envelope out of his backpack.
“Stop!” MJ hissed. “After school- Can we meet at yours, Ned?”
“Totally!” He replied, wide smile gleaming.
Peter practically vibrated in excitement through the last period of the day, shooting off a quick text for permission to his father, and sighing in relief when he received the okay just as the dismissal bell rang. It had been a rough couple of months since his Dad caught Peter red handed at a club (how was Peter supposed to know his Dad’s date would end up there?), drunk as a skunk, confiscating his fake ID and grounding him severely in response. Thank God Peter hadn’t been high that night, or he probably would still be grounded, or maybe even shoved into one of those stuffy private schools for misbehaving rich kids.
Ned and MJ met up with Peter by his locker, and they walked to Ned’s house together, rocketing up the stairs to his room with barely a word to Mrs. Leeds. Once safely inside, Ned flipped open the envelope and pulled out the plastic cards, handing one to Peter who examined it closely.
“Ned,” Peter gasped, “this looks incredible! It’s so much better than the last one!”
“Right???” Ned said incredulously. “They look just like a regular ID, I can’t believe my cousin managed to get ahold of these.”
“You know what this means?” Peter asked.
“What?” Ned said, still clutching his ID in hand and staring at it in disbelief.
“It means we’re back!” MJ crowed. “Good luck to anyone who tries to confiscate these babies!”
Peter suppressed a wave of unease as Ned and MJ whooped together in excitement, before dissolving into laughter as Ned’s mother yelled up the stairs for them to quiet down.
Finally it was Saturday night and their plan was in action. Get to the club, become appropriately socially lubricated, dance, maybe even find a hookup, then get back to their beds before parents were awake in the morning. Sneaking out of the Tower would have been impossible (and boy had he learned that lesson the hard way one spring evening Freshman year), so Peter and Ned waited at the Leeds’ for his parents to head to bed. Peter helped Ned out of the window with a small grunt of effort, then swung down himself. All those gymnastics lessons were finally coming in handy.
They met up with MJ at the subway station. “Hey losers, you rolling tonight?” Ned and Peter quickly agreed, receiving the pills from MJ before swallowing them down dry with the ease of long practice. The trio headed downtown, overcome with good cheer and giggles during the course of the trip, dressed in their finest babyslut getups.
The fake IDs Ned had gotten from his cousin had scanned at the door as genuine, gaining them entry to the club and access to the bar, access they’d immediately taken full advantage of. Peter jumped up and down with Ned and MJ as the beat dropped and the bass of the song vibrated through his bones, feeling open and loose, in sync with the crowd and with the universe.
“MJ! MJ!” Peter laughed, yelling her name over the music. “I’m having so much fun!”
Her response was swallowed in the sway of the crowd on the dancefloor, lips unreadable in the flashing strobe lights and fog inside the club. Peter lost himself to the pure joy of dancing with his best friends, heart thumping to the beat, sweat dripping down his face, smearing his eyeliner and leaving tracks through the iridescent highlighter swept across his cheekbones.
“Hey!” Ned grabbed at Peter and MJ’s hands, towing them toward the bar. “This round’s on me!”
Peter could just hear him over the music now that they were further away from the DJ. Ned held his cash in the air, clumsily getting the attention of the bartender and ordering them all lemon drop shots. The trio clinked their glasses together before knocking back the sugar-sweet lemon-tart throat-burning liquid with the faint grimace and loud whoop.
Peter bopped his way back into the crowd of dancers, happily grinding on anyone who came his way, uncharacteristically uncaring about looks or even gender. The overwhelming urge for touch was fully upon him as he exchanged sloppy kisses and careless caresses with any number of partners, letting himself be passed around the dancefloor in a blur, like some glittery party favor.
Several rounds of dancing and shots later, and Peter felt great. Better than great. Fantastic even. So what if everything was a little blurry around the edges? So what if he wasn’t absolutely sure where Ned and MJ had disappeared to? Peter was having the time of his life, everything was right with the world! He was sweet sixteen, flush with liquor and lust, and from the look of the guy eyeing him from across the dancefloor, attractive enough to fuck.
Peter shimmied his way through the bouncing crowd with loose limbed moves, catching the eye of a dark haired man with attractively trimmed facial hair. (Didn’t that remind him of someone? Peter pushed the thought away impatiently.) Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as they made eye contact, blue eyes catching on brown. Everything slowed down for a moment, the music fading into the background as Peter looked the man over, taking in his muscular arms and trim waist, eyefucking him from head to toe as the lights flashed through the haze.
“Hi!” Peter yelled above the vibrating beat, watching the man’s lips as he returned the greeting. He didn’t waste any time, turning around and leaning back against the man to grind his ass against him on pure animalistic instinct, craving the pressure against his skin. The man’s hands came down to rest on Peter’s hips, pulling him into an energetic rhythm that matched the beat vibrating through Peter’s bones.
Fuck, it felt so good to let go. To let the stress and expectations of being Tony Stark’s son and protégé drift away from his shoulders, disappear under the haze of molly, alcohol, and raw desire clouding his mind. Peter lifted an arm and wrapped it behind the man’s head, pulling his face down to Peter’s exposed neck. Score, the guy took the hint and started sucking livid marks into Peter’s pale skin, fueling the pool of liquid heat collecting in his core. The man’s hands travelled up and down Peter’s body, running over the front of his silky mesh shirt, sending a wave of shivery sensation through his skin. His fingers plucked against Peter’s sensitive nipples, dug hungrily against the dips of his defined abs, groped the sides and bottom curve of his ass.
“Do you know somewhere more quiet we can go?” Peter yelled, spinning around to face the man, who grinned lecherously and nodded, pulling Peter with him through the crowd.
They squeezed their way out an emergency exit in the back of the club, hands frantically rubbing whatever parts of the other could be reached, Peter’s mouth being enthusiastically penetrated by the man’s tongue as they kissed. Peter slammed the man against the wall, drinking in his noise of shocked surprise before dropping to his knees right there in the dirty alley. He could feel the grit of the city underneath his knees, even through his tight black jeans, and relished the grounding sensation to counteract the floating in his head.
The man eagerly unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock, flopping it right in front of Peter’s face. His mouth was watering, senses overwhelmed by fresh sweat and masculine musk as his lips parted to take the man inside. Peter hummed happily, palming himself through his jeans as he gently sucked, bobbing his head back and forth and licking around the tip.
“Fuck, your mouth-” The man gasped out, grabbing at Peter’s sweat soaked curls with shaking hands.
Peter grinned around the man’s cock. All those hate fueled hookups with Flash Thompson had been good for something after all. Peter lost himself in the rhythm and feel of skin against his tongue, sucking harder and groaning at the salty taste of precum, neglected dick throbbing inside his pants. He groped blindly for the man’s leg and pulled it between his thighs to grind against it.
“Oh, that’s it. Fuck you’re a greedy lil thing, that’s right baby, suck that-”
“Hey! Asshole!”
Peter froze around the man’s cock before pulling off with a sloppy pop. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh my God, oh no, oh fuck, oh shit. It couldn’t be. There was no way. Peter screwed his eyes shut as he felt a familiar hand grab at the back of his neck, sending a slow roll of pleasure down his spine, and pulling him up and back from his kneeling position.
The hand disappeared and there was a dull thud before a series of protests started. “Woah man, ow, what the hell?”
Peter was still half crouched, quivering in shame as he listened to the response, which was growled with menace.
“I’m going to give you one chance to get the hell out of this alley before I separate your head from your spine.”
The resulting silence was broken by the sound of rustling fabric, a zipper being closed, and rapid footsteps in the opposite direction.
“Peter Anthony Stark.” That disappointed voice was like a bucket of ice dousing his lust, better at sobering him up than any greasy burger ever could be.
“H- Hi Dad.” Peter stammered, looking up at his father, who was dark eyed and puffed up with rage.
Tony held up his hand, silencing Peter with the familiar gesture. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again Peter. You didn’t learn the last time I had to pull you out of the gutter?”
That peculiar combination of shame and anger rose inside Peter, choking him, contributing to his sputtered denial. “I- I- I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to-”
“You were doing exactly what you meant to do. Like you always do.” Tony’s voice was tight as he stared down at Peter, hands clenched at his sides. “Kid, I can’t stand by and watch you self-destruct the same way I did.”
Peter shot to his feet, sudden fury winning out over the embarrassment of being caught with a cock halfway down his throat. “I’m just trying to have a little fucking fun! What I’m doing is nothing like what you did! Newsflash, Tony, we’re not the same person, no matter how often you act like we are.”
The echoing crack of the slap across Peter’s cheek seemed to catch them both by surprise. Peter rubbed his cheek in shock, wide eyed and slack jawed, watching Tony’s still raised hand with utter astonishment.
His father was huffing and puffing like he’d just run a marathon, chest heaving, breath rasping in his throat as he spoke. “You think this is cute Pete? You think this is fun? All this acting out? It’s like you’re six again and throwing a tantrum, screaming out for Daddy’s attention. Well “newsflash” kiddo, you’ve got my full attention now.”
Peter was still speechless, his father had never hit him before. He’d never even been spanked as a kid, let alone slapped. “You- you hit me,” he said, rubbing his smarting face.
Tony’s jaw tightened as a grudging laugh slid out from between his teeth. “Talk shit, get hit kid. Unfortunately you’re a little old for me to take over my knee. You’re lucky for that, or you wouldn’t be sitting down for a week after this stunt you pulled tonight. You wanna know how I knew you were here? The social media alerts I have set up on you started going crazy, Peter. Practically the whole city knew you were here, grinding like a slut on some stranger, getting drunk and God knows what else.”
Peter’s vague noise of protest died in his throat as he thought of tomorrow's headlines. He looked at his father desperately. “I didn’t mean-”
“No,” Tony interjected, “I don’t want to hear it. Save your excuses.” Peter gasped as his father grabbed him with an iron grip by the upper arm, and started hauling him out of the alley to where a familiarly discrete black SUV was idling by the sidewalk. “Get in, and don’t think we’re done with this conversation.”
Peter opened the door and blanched to see a hangdog Ned and wide eyed MJ already in the back. He blushed fiercely as MJ’s perceptive gaze passed over the livid handprint on his left cheek. The ride to drop off his friends was silent, the teens not daring to speak to each other as they each reached their destinations, with only dreading looks exchanged. Even that brief contact brought a sideways and threatening look from Tony, daring them to talk at their own risk. Finally the vehicle was empty, but the silence still weighed heavy on Peter’s nerves.
“Dad…” Peter spoke into the quiet, voice cracking on the single word.
“Not now Pete, I’m driving.” Tony’s voice was still rife with irritation, and Peter’s mouth snapped shut in response.
The utter stillness continued as Tony parked, and as they rode up the elevator to the penthouse. Peter fidgeted nervously the whole way, unable to keep still as the tension rose. He was still rolling, running his hands up and down his thighs, unable to keep still as the urge to touch and be touched seized his body.
“What did you take?” Tony’s voice was firm as they walked into the living room, not leaving any room for excuses or prevarication.
“Molly.” Peter muttered to the floor, unable to meet his father’s eyes. He flinched and gasped as his father’s hand lifted his chin, forcing him to make eye contact.
“Want to try that again kid? What did you take?”
Peter quivered under Tony’s laser sharp gaze. “M- molly.”
Tony’s sigh of disappointment cut into Peter like a knife. The ride back across the city had cooled his righteous indignation, leaving only the shame behind. Peter looked back to the floor, pulling away reluctantly from his father’s hand.
“I am so incredibly disappointed in you Peter. I’ve always tried to be open with you about my struggles with substance abuse, and hoped you would learn from my mistakes and not repeat them. You can consider yourself on lockdown, no phone, no friends.”
Peter kept looking down at the floor, the film of tears he’d been battling since the slap prickling in his eyes. His dad was right, Peter had really fucked up tonight, in a spectacularly visible way, and so soon after gaining privileges back. “I’m sorry…” Peter whispered.
“I don’t believe you Pete. I can’t trust anything you say right now.”
Tony’s words stung worse than the slap had. “That’s not fair!” It burst out of Peter’s mouth before he could think twice.
“You think that’s unfair?” Tony scoffed. “Trust me, you’re going to be learning a big lesson on what’s fair and what’s not. Just- Go get ready for bed. I can barely even look at you after what I saw tonight.”
Peter was suddenly furious again, hurt boiling over, too hot to consider the effect of his words. “Is that what Howard told you? After your first sex tape leaked?” He looked up with fire blazing in his eyes to note with satisfaction how his father’s jaw had dropped. “Guess what Dad, I’m not a little kid anymore. So what, I like to suck dick.” Peter jutted his jaw out defiantly. “From what I’ve seen, that apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Bed!” Tony practically roared, eyes flashing, pointing toward Peter’s room.
“Fine!” Peter shouted back, stomping down the hallway with the full power of his favorite Docs. He stormed into his room, slamming the door and hearing the answering shout echo down the hallway. Peter was most of the through angrily stripping, standing in his socks, bare chested with just his black briefs on by the time the door flew open. “Dad!” He yelped, “I’m changing!”
“Don’t care, as you so clearly pointed out, nothing I’ve never seen before.” Tony’s voice was clipped with irritation. “Finish getting ready for bed.”
Peter practically ran into the bathroom and slammed that door shut too, locking it behind him. He collapsed onto the cool tile floor, chest heaving with frustrated sobs as the doorknob jiggled.
“Unlock the door Pete. I don’t trust you being alone.”
“Fuck you!” Peter hissed venomously through the door. Dead silence was the answer, instead of the explosion Peter was goading for.
“JARVIS,” Tony enunciated clearly, “unlock Peter’s bathroom door, override code, ‘Daddy knows best.’”
Peter gaped at the door as it audibly unlocked and swung open and his father stalked inside.
“You want to act like a child Peter? I can treat you like a child!” Tony was clearly still furious, eyes flashing down at Peter who was huddled on the bathroom floor by the sink. “Stand up!”
“No!” Peter shouted back, foot kicking down on the floor in defiance.
Tony reached down and hauled Peter up from the floor, hands under his arms like he was nothing more than a little kid. Peter kicked and struggled the whole way as he was deposited to sit on the counter by the sink. “Stay there!”
Peter huddled in on himself miserably, feeling exposed and small, shivering in his briefs and socks as the cool marble sunk in through the fabric. He watched in confusion as his dad pulled Peter’s toothbrush and toothpaste from the medicine cabinet, getting the toothbrush wet under the faucet and squirting toothpaste on the bristles.
“Open.” His father’s voice didn’t leave room for argument, but Peter resisted, giving in to the childish urge to shake his head with his lips pressed tight together.
Tony caught Peter’s chin with one strong hand and pinched at the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. Peter squawked in alarm as his body followed Tony’s whim instead of his own will, spluttering as his father firmly inserted the toothbrush into Peter’s mouth.
“Dad! Stop!” Peter’s whining protests were garbled by the toothbrush as it slipped and slid roughly over his teeth and gums, spreading an intensely minty taste.
“Can’t believe I found you in some alley on your knees, gonna clean out that filthy fucking mouth of yours.” Tony was growling aggravated nonsense as he scrubbed harshly inside Peter’s mouth. “Down in the gutter sucking off some Tony Stark knockoff while the real one is at home worried, you think your life is unfair?! You think I like watching you disobey and disrespect and self-destruct?”
Fat tears were swelling up in Peter’s eyes, the ghostly ache of the earlier slap making itself known as his father’s strong grip pressed into his cheek, keeping his mouth vulnerable and open. As Tony continued brushing across Peter’s teeth those tears started running down his face in streams as he hiccupped and choked around the toothbrush invading his mouth. The foam that had built up was dripping out of the corners of his lips and down his chin.
Peter tried to fire back around the intrusion, he wasn’t disobedient or disrespectful or self destructive, he wasn’t! He just wanted to have a little fun. All Peter succeeded in doing was sobbing miserably and disgustingly leaking out toothpaste onto Tony’s hand. He'd never felt so achingly vulnerable, not when Flash first pushed him against the lockers and forced him to his knees, not the first time his father had caught him trying to sneak out of the tower, not even when the paparazzi caught up with him after a particularly bad day at school, sobbing his sorrows out over his mother’s grave.
Tony let go of Peter’s jaw and maneuvered him sideways over the sink by his shoulder. “Spit.”
The touch against his bare skin rocketed tingles down Peter’s spine and to his- Oh no. Peter sputtered the foam out of his mouth into the basin, chest heaving with shame. Why was- How could he be? The more he thought about it, tried to unravel his feelings, the harder his dick throbbed between his legs, tenting the dark fabric of his briefs.
Drowning in confusion, Peter felt utterly unmoored as his father let go of him, turned on the taps, and cupped his hands underneath to catch the water.
“Rinse.” Tony said flatly, holding his hands up to Peter’s lips.
Peter shook his head frantically, needing something, needing just a minute to think- To calm down-
“Rinse!” Tony snapped.
The roiling combination of shame, panic, and desire bubbling in Peter’s stomach erupted. He shoved his father’s hands away, spilling water all down his chest and stomach. “I’m not a child,” Peter shouted as he tried to swipe the cold water off his skin, “and I don’t know how to prove it to you!”
Dead silence was his only answer.
Peter looked up in confusion from where he’d been glaring at the floor, waiting for the reprimand for losing his temper. Aw fuck. His dad was staring straight down at his hard-on, which was pointing proudly toward the ceiling like it had nothing to be ashamed of, like everything about popping a boner in this situation wasn’t completely wrong.
“I can see that,” Tony finally replied in a coolly interested voice, anger still present but iced over by something- Something else Peter couldn’t identify.
Peter started to curl defensively into a ball on the counter, but was stopped by Tony’s hands coming down to rest on the tops of his thighs, fingers splaying out across his sensitive skin. He gasped as the touch set off another rolling wave of pleasure to his core that left goosebumps in its wake, sent shivers up his chest, hardening his nipples to little brown peaks.
“You wanna prove you’re not a little kid Petey?”
Peter had never heard that tone in his father’s voice before. “Dad?” He asked in a small voice, head spinning, confused beyond belief, heartbeat racing.
Tony leaned in and nuzzled at Peter’s neck, rubbing his goatee against Peter’s pulse as his hands traveled slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter gasped out a shocked moan as the prickly sensation sent heat blazing straight toward his throbbing dick.
“What?” Peter panted. “I don’t-”
“Shhh,” Tony soothed against Peter’s skin. “Isn’t this what you want? To prove to me you’re old enough?”
Peter tilted his head back against the mirror and parted his suddenly dry mouth. “I- I guess-”
Tony dragged his lips up Peter’s neck and to the shell of his ear. “Good boy,” he said crisply before fitting his mouth against Peter’s and squeezing down on his thighs, digging his nails into Peter’s pale skin.
Peter’s reflexive protest that he wasn’t a boy was swallowed up by his father’s lips and probing tongue, and turned into a moan deep in his throat as fireworks sparked off under his skin. Though he’d thought the kiss from the stranger earlier that night was good, it was nothing compared to this all consuming experience. Tony’s nails slowly scratched up Peter’s thighs toward his aching cock, making him whimper helplessly into his father’s mouth.
Breaking the kiss and laughing cruelly at Peter’s confused whine, Tony traveled down Peter’s body with his lips and teeth, nipping sharply and sucking at his pebbled nipples, drinking in the sound of his son’s shocked gasps and moans.
“Wait, no- You can’t- Dad!” Peter cried out as Tony reached his goal, and mouthed lightly at Peter’s hardness through the cotton of his briefs, sucking at the dot of precum that had dampened the fabric by the tip of his son’s dick.
“Has anyone ever done this for you before?” Tony asked, looking up at Peter and ignoring his protests.
Peter shook his head wildly back and forth, looking down at his father with wide eyes. “I- I’m usually the one who-”
Tony grinned wickedly up at Peter, then tugged impatiently at the tight elastic waist of his son’s briefs and pulled it down past Peter’s hips and ass, freeing his erection to bob fully in the air. Laving at his son’s leaking tip with a practiced tongue, Tony sucked Peter’s dick into the wet heat of his mouth.
“Ah- Hah-” Peter was beyond words as his father bobbed his head up and down. He curled around Tony as he was completely overwhelmed by the sensations, by the silken tightness surrounding his cock, by the agile working of his dad’s tongue around the tip on every upstroke.
Peter lost track of time as waves of pleasure lapped in his core, radiating out to all his limbs, tingling at the base of his skull. He could feel his balls drawing up and tightening, and couldn’t control the rocking of his hips, the perverse urge to fuck up into his father’s mouth.
Pulling off Peter with a wet slurp, Tony tugged him forward off the counter until his feet met the floor, and flipped him around roughly by the hips, tugging his briefs down all the way to the floor. He stopped to give the perfect roundness of Peter’s cheeks a series of wet nips as he stood, before tucking his head over his son’s shoulder, and meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Peter’s irises were almost invisible, swallowed by the black of his enlarged pupils, surrounded by smeared eyeliner and accented by sooty tear tracks down his cheeks. His eyes grew impossibly wide as he heard the metal of his father’s zipper being undone, and felt Tony’s hardness nestling between his bare cheeks, hot like a branding iron against his skin. It felt huge. Tony flexed his hips forward, making Peter hiss as the head of his father’s cock nudged against his virgin hole.
“Dad,” Peter began, voice breaking off as Tony ground against him again, making him throb with empty want and abject terror.
“Yeah Petey?” Tony grunted as he rooted through the medicine cabinet for something slick, hips rutting forward over and over, rubbing the tip of his dick across Peter’s asshole with increasingly slippery thrusts.
“I- I don’t feel so good.” Peter’s head was back to spinning and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, even as the slide of skin on skin sent electric sparks shooting though him.
“Shhh baby,” Tony cooed, opening the jar of coconut oil he’d found. “It’s about to feel really good.”
Pulling back, Tony slicked up his cock with the oil, spreading it with a series of wet schlicks that echoed dimly in Peter’s ears. Peter gasped weakly as his father’s now slickened cock resumed rubbing against his hole, pressing inside ever so slightly with every pass.
Dad!” Peter cried out.
“What?” Tony bit out.
“I’m scared,” Peter confessed in a small voice.
“You getting scared like a little kid Petey? Tony mockingly caressed Peter’s hair. “Afraid of what you don’t know? What’s next, you gonna be afraid of the dark again, need me to tuck you in, need a nightlight?”
“‘M not a little kid,” Peter shot back in a watery voice, holding back a confused sob. Everything felt so good, felt so bad, he just wanted so badly to be touched, just maybe not- Maybe not like this.
“Just relax, you’ll be fine.” Tony pushed forward again, gripping Peter’s hips and using the leverage to keep constant pressure against the ring of muscle that clung tightly to the tip of his cock. “Fuck baby,” Tony grunted, slowly forcing himself inside of his son. “Been waiting for you to grow up a little, out sucking on lookalikes when you could have been here sucking on me instead.”
Peter cried out as Tony’s dick slowly slid inside his clinging hole, bringing with it a stinging ache that radiated out to his lower back and thighs. “Stop! Dad, it hurts-”
Tony reached around and tugged at Peter’s cock, which was still hard enough to pound nails. “Can’t hurt that much.” He said dismissively before returning his hands to Peter’s hips, holding him in a bruising grip. “Now shush- Man up,” Tony grunted as his hardness forced inside fully, “and stop your whining.”
Tears were welling up in Peter’s eyes again as the pain built, feeling like his insides were rearranged inch by searing inch. He started crying again in earnest, fresh tracks tracing down his cheeks as Tony pulled back glacially slowly, then slid home again, pulling on Peter’s hips for leverage as Peter clung to the bathroom counter for support, fingers scrabbling against the cool marble surface.
“You wanted to play grown up games, you’re going to win grown up prizes,” Tony said breathlessly as his strokes increased in speed, balls slapping rhythmically against Peter as he experimented with the angle of his thrusts.
“Oh!” Peter warbled as his father’s cock brushed against his prostate. “Fuck- Fuck!”
Tony grinned sharkishly in the mirror. “There we go,” he crowed, and added power to his strokes, mercilessly grinding his shaft against Peter’s stinging rim with every push, hammering against his sweet spot.
“Dad-” Peter sobbed, pain and pleasure mixing up in his system like a hurricane, dick leaking where it hung between his thighs, drooling a long shining string of precum toward the floor.
“That’s right Petey, you take this cock,” Tony growled lowly.
As the minutes passed, the stinging was beginning to subside, leaving only lapping waves of warmth in its wake. Peter could see his body glistening with sweat in the mirror, curls plastered down to his forehead as his sobs turned into hitching moans. He was beginning to lean back into the thrusts, pushing his hips and arching his back to meet his father’s powerful pumps. Peter reached between his legs and grasped his aching dick, hissing in pleasure as he spread slickness from the tip down to his balls and back up again, jerking himself with fervor.
Leaning his head down to pillow on his braced arm, Peter moaned quietly, “Dad?”
“What?” Tony panted between flexes of his hips.
“Can you- I need-” Peter’s body quivered as he tried to speak.
“Adults use their words,” Tony said harshly as he reached up and pulled Peter’s head back by his hair, forcing him to make eye contact in the mirror. “What do you want?”
“Please, fuck me harder!” Peter blurted out, flushed cheeks darkening with shame as he watched his father’s face.
Tony laughed darkly and let go of Peter’s hair, letting his head fall back down to his arm and resuming his clawing grasp on his son's hips. “Who knew I raised such a fucking slut?”
Peter gasped in shock and stroked himself harder as Tony’s thrusts sped up to a blistering pace, moaning like a cheap whore as his father’s cock pistoned in and out of his hole, slamming against his sweet spot on every stroke. His balls were tight with need, the heat in his core raging like a wildfire. Peter just needed- He didn’t know what he needed, but he needed it soon, he needed it like, now; he needed it like, yesterday.
“You like that baby boy?” Tony reached in between their bodies and traced Peter’s reddened rim with his fingers before slowly pressing in a single digit, stretching Peter’s hole even further.
Peter cried out fiercely as his ass began to burn again, white heat overtaking his vision.
“You like being all grown up?” Tony asked breathlessly. “You like being Daddy’s big boy slut?”
His father’s words hit Peter like a bolt of lightning, making his legs shake and back arch uncontrollably. Heat erupted from him as his cock jerked in his grasp and shot out long strings of cum onto the bathmat. His ass clenched, hard, around his father, muscles rippling in rhythmic pulses to the timing of his tsunami of pleasure.
"Fuck, Pete-" Tony cursed, hips stuttering behind, into, out of Peter, finally coming to a lurching stop as a liquid heat spread inside Peter's ass.
The bathroom was silent for long moments, except for their slowly calming breaths. Peter watched his father in the mirror, questioningly tracing the lines of his face as he pulled his cock out of Peter’s sloppy hole.
"Dad?" Peter asked in a small voice.
Tony sounded utterly spent as he replied, rubbing absently at Peter's hips where his fingers had left livid marks. "What Petey?"
"Am I still grounded?"
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Masterpost
Honey series (all parts here)
Honey In Your Voice, Poison On Your Tongue (A/B/O, non-con; Jaskier/Geralt)
Your Lips Are Poison (A/B/O, non-con; Jaskier/Geralt)
Thrill Me, Nearly Kill Me (A/B/O, non-con, assault; Jaskier/Geralt)
Blood Honey (A/B/O, non-con; Jaskier/Geralt)
Honeybee (A/B/O, non-con, graphic; Jaskier/Geralt)
The Poison Tree Growing In Me (A/B/O, non-con; Jaskier/Geralt)
Your Poison Honey Is The Sweetest (A/B/O, non-con, minor character death; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Eskel)
Beautiful Wreck (A/B/O, non-con, gang rape, minor character death, inappropriate use of Axii; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Eskel)
Drink of the Gods (A/B/O, extreme dub-con, overstimulation, unconsciousness; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Eskel)
Bet My Life On a Dumb Song (A/B/O, non-con, suicide attempt, self-harm; Jaskier/Geralt)
Roses In Between My Thighs (A/B/O, non-con, graphic; Jaskier/Geralt)
Let Me Waste Away Upon Your Tender Lips (A/B/O, non-con, self-harm, suicide attempt; Geralt/Eskel, Jaskier/Geralt)
Milk and Honey (A/B/O, non-con, unconsciousness; Jaskier/Geralt)
One Shots:
Sweet As Honey Cake (A/B/O, first time; Jaskier/OMC)
Honey Sweet (A/B/O, non-con, graphic; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier & Lambert)
General A/B/O
Practice Makes Perfect (A/B/O, premature ejaculation, soft; Jaskier/Geralt)
Team Effort (A/B/O, gangbang, pregnancy; Jaskier/Wolves)
A Gift Surpassing All Things Imagined (A/B/O, sexual slavery, free use; Jaskier/Witchers) (all parts here)
Mother Unlike Any Other (A/B/O, monsterfucking, pregnancy; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Kelpie)
Made to Be With You, And You (A/B/O, underage, dub-con; Geralt/Vesemir, Geralt/Eskel, Geralt/Jaskier)
I Need A Helping Hand (A/B/O, omega/omega, heat sex, sex toys; Jaskier/Geralt)
Affection Weighs Too Much (A/B/O, alpha/alpha, mild dub to non-con, forced prostitution; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/others)
Didn't Mean to Be Unkind (A/B/O, non-con, possible forced pregnancy; Jaskier/Valdo)
The Best One I Can Be (A/B/O, unplanned pregnancy, witchersexual Jaskier; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Witchers)
(Don't) Let Them Control Your Mind (A/B/O, dubious consent, mind manipulation, sexual slavery, forced pregnancy; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Witchers)
Fill Me Up, Cheer Me Up (A/B/O, teratophilia, large cock, oviposition, rut; Jaskier/Villentretenmerth, Jaskier/Geralt)
Bestiality
'Cause With You I'm Like An Animal (bestiality; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/dogs)
Let Me See The Open Sky (bestiality, extreme dub-con, sexual slavery, mindbreak; Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Wolves, Jaskier/dogs)
My, What Big Teeth You Have (bestiality, mildly dub-con due to magic, magical transformation; Jaskier/Geralt)
Let Us Do The Wild Thing (bestiality, underage; Jaskier/dogs (male and female), Jaskier/Geralt)
Underage
Tears Like Diamonds (non-con, gangbang, underage; Jaskier/Wolves)
Absolutely Nowhere Else to Go (extreme dub-con, sexual slavery, grooming, underage; Eskel/Geralt, Eskel/Wolves, Eskel/Lambert)
In Flagrante Delicto (babysitter AU, masturbation, consensual sex, underage; Jaskier/Geralt)
The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To (mob AU, dub-con, grooming, underage, sex work; Jaskier/Geralt) (all parts here)
Miscellaneous
Safe Inside Our Winter Den (free use, gangbang; Jaskier/Wolves)
Circle Jerk (fuck or die, overstimulation, consensual non-con; Jaskier/Geralt)
Terrifying and Strange and Beautiful (sex pollen, fuck or die, mildly dubious consent, gangbang; Jaskier/Wolves)
Rule You Day And Night (dub-con, breeding, feminization; Jaskier/Geralt)
Easier to Ask For Forgiveness Than For Permission (dub-con, large insertion, forced enjoyment; Jaskier/Geralt)
Used to Tell Me I'm Selfish (non-con, mind control, painful sex, injury; Jaskier/Geralt, past Jaskier/Valdo)
Gently Now (arranged marriage, loss of virginity, mild dub-con, non-consensual voyeurism, medical examination; Geralt/Eskel)
Wildness Leads My Way (non-con, watersports; Jaskier/Geralt)
MerMay
Ideas
200 Followers Celebration
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The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Prologue: History
Characters: OFC (Shane Benton), OMC (Elliott Thomas)
Summary: Shane Benton is a hard-working physical therapist and a loving girlfriend…but her boyfriend has a less than desirable way of showing it.
In case you’ve fallen behind or want to read more of my drabbles!
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Language, mature themes, angst, infidelity, domestic violence (moderate). Yeah, this may be a tad rough for some readers, but I tried to be mild, and mostly implicit. It was hard still, to see my fictional offspring go through this, even if she gives as good as she gets!
Author’s Note: Oh, y’all. When I needed a break from the sweet tenderness of Chapter 8, I came here and put Shane through some hell. (You can blame one of my friends I was talking about for this angst as they’re the one who put me into angsty headspace by cheating on my other friend! It’s been weighing on me! But I guess at least I’ve been able to use it!) I really hope you enjoy a bit of backstory on our heroine! I really liked writing her ferocity.
Also, I meant to have this posted yesterday, but because of some tragedy in one of my other fandoms (and the world, in general! Rest In Power, Chadwick Boseman!) and a bit of craziness in my personal life (my HS bestie wanted to hang out this weekend, so I spent a lot of time with her…also…I’ve been talking to a real live fella! OMG! And it’s entirely too soon to say that I like him, but like…I very much do…but he’s far away and recently single and things are complicated in just, several ways, so it just can’t happen at this point. But…like, we have been talking a ton recently, and…sigh. I have found it difficult to focus on the matters at hand. But, rest assured, I’m working on Chapter Nine, and it will be up just as soon as I find my rhythm!
Disclaimer: Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. (Well, this isn’t a super fun chapter, I guess!)
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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! (Also, if you’ve asked and aren’t on the list...well...that would be because I forgot to add you and reminding me will not offend or upset me. I think I might have ADD, or something, and being reminded about things is kind of how I survive!) Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)
X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X
5 years ago-
Shane got home from work, exhausted. The new electronic documentation system they'd just implemented was kicking her ass. And Anita's, whom she constantly had to help with it, all the while hearing Anita bellow "When can I retire?!" which lost its charm on about the third day.
"Elliott, I'm home." She didn't smell anything cooking, despite the fact that she knew he was off all day today. Whatever. She was used to him doing virtually nothing but whatever hipster bullshit he got up to on Instagram and YouTube, trying to get off the ground as an influencer with a brand…spare her. Since when did that become a job? She didn’t mind to get takeout though, if only she knew he wasn’t cooking. Maybe she should have asked. "Honey, I could have picked something up if--" she was startled by him in the doorway to the hall, in only his anime boxers, looking like he was trying to not be surprised she was home. "What?"
"Nothing, just…excited to see you! How was your day?" Elliott asked, scratching the back of his neck, displacing his mid-length, slightly moppy light brown hair, already disheveled. That was his tell. Something was up. She knew it.
"What's going on? Are you hiding something from me?"
"Why would you ask me that? Don't you trust me, baby?!" he guilted. Knowing just the buttons to push for empathy. It wasn't gonna work today. The machine was all out of that selection and full of his bullshit currency.
"Now that you mention it, no. I sure as hell don't." she walked around to enter the hall and investigate the rest of the house. "Let me through." he wouldn't budge. He had the advantage of physical size, but she was still wearing her work uniform including sneakers…he was more than half naked. She stomped hard on his instep and smacked him in the ear as he doubled over. She felt marginally bad for that in the moment…at best he'd get mild tinnitus for a while. At worst, he could have permanent hearing damage. She'd check later for blood coming out of his ear and see if she should feel worse about it then.
She rounded the corner to their bedroom. The quilt her grandma had made her was carelessly crumpled with the top sheet and blanket at the foot board. She noticed a swatch of an orangey red lipstick on her pillow. The same shade smudged onto the full mouth of the panicking strawberry blonde frantically donning clothes in front of her antique mirror, and the same shade, she was guessing, that was smeared across certain places on Elliott’s body that were now covered by those boxers that she had always hated. You know what, Elliott, she thought to herself. Fuck Bleach, and fuck you!
"I'm sure you're a lovely person who's just been lied to by a very charming and manipulative man, but…you still only have ten seconds to get to my front door before I call the cops." Shane threatened the girl, who couldn't have been more than twenty-one…and he was thirty-three.
"She's my guest." Elliott defended.
"You're not even on the lease. Your credit was too bad." she said over her shoulder while still squared off with the girl. She turned back to her. "I'm trying to be calm here, sweetie. But do not make me tell you even one more time to get out of my…fucking…house." the girl picked up her shoes and a small messenger bag from the floor near where Shane stood, keeping as wide a berth as she could, and skittered out of the room in terror.
"How many times, Elliott?"
"Don't do this, Shane."
"No, I think this is something we should do. Count the times you’ve broken my trust. Kissed another girl, fooled around with one, fucked one…I mean…I've never caught you in our bed before, so this LOOKS like a first…I sure hope it is…because I don't recall you doing any laundry since you've lived here. And if I thought you let me sleep in the same sheets that you…I can't even look at you, you son of a bitch."
"It's not what you think, Shane." he said, calmly, as if he'd simply picked up the wrong consistency of peanut butter from the store. The wrong brand of milk. Not that he ever did the shopping.
"Bullshit. Bull. Shit. Elliott. I come home and find you like this, and there's a girl in OUR bedroom, and her lipstick is all over MY pillow, and your balls, no doubt. Not gonna make you prove it, because at this point, I don't give a shit anymore. I've lost count of how many times I've forgiven you, even times you didn't care enough to ask me to. Times you probably don't even know that I know about. But it's done. You're gonna pack up all your things. And you're gonna be gone by the time I get home from work tomorrow. And don't expect me to be late…because I will not be."
"You're acting crazy. You can't do this. Where will I go, Shane?"
"That's not my concern anymore. Find an apartment that accepts Likes and subscriptions and followers as rent and cherish it. But your free ride here is done. I'm not your mom, your maid, your cook, or…anything to you anymore, Elliott."
He was getting angry now. His nostrils flared and his breaths came more quickly.
"Is this because you're fucking another guy? Hmm?" he got in her space, but she was out of the bedroom and back into the hallway. She shouted back.
"Oh, NOW you're gonna try to deflect this onto me? When in holy hell would I have time to get with anyone but you, when we don't even have sex anymore?! It's been, what, two, three months?"
"You work with guys."
"You have no idea who I am. To think that I would do something like that. No idea at all. If I don't have time at home, I certainly don't have time for sex at work, and you can ask any of my coworkers, male OR female. That place is an unsexy, unholy shit show 90% of the time. And the other ten, it's just above bearable."
"Well, I'm still not going anywhere."
"You are. Like I said. You're not on the lease. And all I have to do is call the landlord and tell him you're here without my permission and he'll have the cops here." she had gotten a glass of water…although she needed something stronger, and was standing by the sink with it. Her mouth was getting dry. She couldn't take much more of this without breaking.
"You wouldn't really do that to me though. I'm the only man who can give you what you want." he grabbed her by the arm, hard.
"Let go of me, Elliott."
"Or what." he asked for it. She got the other instep, his groin, and threw water in his face. She grabbed her purse and bolted out the door.
She got quickly on the phone with Heather her closest friend who had recently been hired on as a secretary for her clinic.
"Yello." she said, cheerful.
"Two things: can I crash at your place tonight and what kind of phone do you have?" she asked.
"Yes and a Galaxy something, I dunno, but what the fresh hell are you talking about?"
"I'll explain when I get there. I’m on my way to CVS for some essentials. Do you need anything?"
"Sounds like we need wine and ice cream!"
"Already on the list." She thanked Heather and hung up, calling her landlord.
“This’s Sam.” She heard over the receiver.
“Sam, I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a situation at the house.”
“What’s goin’ on?” He asked concerned. She’d never rented from anyone so kind. He’d become almost family. Like an uncle.
“Long story short, pest control. I’m kicking Elliott out and he has until the time I get home from work tomorrow. I told him you’d be there with the cops if he didn’t comply because he’s not on the lease. Is there any way you can help me and make that good?”
“He hurt ya, Shane?”
“Not, umm…not physically.” Although she had been rubbing the place on her arm where he’d grabbed her, certain there would be a bruise.
“That’s all I need to know. I’ve got a buddy or two on the squad here in town. I’m sure they won’t mind to help me out. You need anything?”
She held back the tears until she could hang up. “I’m staying over at a friend’s tonight and headed into CVS now for a few things I didn’t take time to grab after I kneed him in the groin and ran out.” She had just pulled into the parking lot.
“Well I’m nearby if you need anything when you’re back home.”
“Thanks. I guess just watch for smoke from the place for now. I don’t know what he might do, honestly.”
Up Next: Prologue: Onset of Injury (Sy)
#netflix sand castle#sand castle#captain syverson#captain syverson fanfic#captain syverson x ofc#sigh for sy#hes in this chapter in spirit ok
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Old Debts
Fandom: James Bond / Rami Malek
Chapters : 15 of 21
Characters : Lyutsifer Safin, Tatjana Safin ofc, Luc Dupont omc, Marie Dupont ofc, James Bond, Moneypenny, Q, M, Felix Leiter, William Tanner, Blackmarket tycoon Yuri omc, Secretary of state for defence Ben Wallance
Relationship : Lyutsifer Safin / OFC Character, James Bond / Eve Moneypenny
Warning : Lemon🍋, crime, terrorism, espionage, double cross, dub-con, death scenario💀, racism, politic drama, apartheid subject, torture🔪
Rating : MA
Gene: Crime / Drama / Terrorism
Summary : New terror cells got their hands on Safin's weapon via the russian blackmarket, and neither Safin nor Bond are pleased. Not to speak of the FBI, the CIA and the MI6.
Note : non of the characters belong to me, nor did I get any money from it. This fanfiction is written for entertaining purpose only.
15. Keep calm and carry on 🍋
Bond watched Felix talking to one man from the FBI in unusual peace. Nobody stepped on once feet on this mission. The circumstance of a common enemy put all together - for now. Bond knew the FBI would try by a satisfied outcome to claim the laurel for themselves. And the CIA would shrug it off. At least the job was done.
Felix waved Bond to him. "I got a heli out for you. I will join you for a part of the travel, if you don't mind. I am allowed to join the navy."
Bond narrowed his eyes. "I don't mind at all. Did you have news?"
"Yes?", Bond asked back and checked if someone listens.
Felix looked to the ground. "As a commander of the Royal Navy you know how tricky the Cape of good Hope can be?"
"Looks like your buddies submarine is close to Madagascar, on his way to South Africa."
"Ah, of course.", Felix spoke lightly. "Well, you should be more careful with your BBQ guests the next time than."
"He isn't my buddies.", Bond threw annoyed.
Bond looked at Felix. "I'm quite stunned.", he answered and searched for Felix eyes to find disappointment in it. "I still get watched by the CIA?"
"No, James. You get watched by me. Otherwise, your little island would have been sacked weeks ago."
Felix looked at the sky as he heard the sound of an upcoming helicopter. "Same enemy. But I understand your curiosity. I'm stunned myself." Felix looked around and leaned in to Bond. "I believe.. And that is between us, they have someone at board of the sub."
"So why is the FBI is here?", Bond tried to change the subject.
"There is more..", Bond hummed impressed and watched the heli landing.
"Not for you.", Felix answered with a sour face and walked to the Heli. Bond followed with heavy shoulders. Was it his fault? Could he have done differently? No. Not with Safin.
Bond and Felix stayed silent on the fly. Bond expected he got set down on the next main land. His ice blue eyes wandered over the greyer getting sea as the heli flew deeper over the ocean. Eventually the first marine boats, destroyers and battleships, were to see, all in regular positions to each other.
The American navy boats were keen to proceed.
Bond frowned and looked at Felix.
"There is no time to spare.", Felix smirked. "At least you can watch a good hunt."
"I appreciate that. Thank you, Felix."
With a knot in his stomach, Bond waited until the Heli landed on the deck of the destroyer. He followed Felix out, who greeted the captain of the destroyer quite nonchalant. He was no navy man for sure.
Bond paused before climbing out of the Heli and spoke to the Captain. "Commander Bond asked for permission to come on board, Sir!"
"Permission Granted, commander.", the Captain answered and Bond saluted the British way. The Captain answered with his American salute and offered them Bond a handshake. "Captain Ulysses from the US ANTIOPE."
"Bond, James Bond, MI6. I'm only here as an observer.", he nodded to Felix. "Felix Leiter is the man in charge."
Captain Ulysses chuckled. "Yeah? Tell this to the FBI. They bombarded me with orders all the time. Thinking themselves better sailors than my men."
"I gather you're not the man to take such orders?", Bond smirked.
"From civilians? Hell no!", the Captain laughed.
*
Safin surprised Tatjana in their cabin. She had thought to have him more relaxed. Safin had other plans. Untypically for him, he pushed her demanding on the bed to torn her clothes off of her. Greed and lust writing in his broken face, he licked his lips, as he paused a moment to relish the view of her naked body. He grabbed her hair, unbundled it that it was open.
"Turn around." An Order. "On your hands and knees."
Tatjana hurried to do so and opened up her legs by that. She was a bit bewildered. Safin made mostly sure to see her face, and wanted her to look at him. But today was different. Tatjana knew the reason. The strong and corrupting emotion of power, of death were running through his veins and he had to let it out. Tatjana whimpered in surprise anyway as Safin pushed himself unceremoniously inside her.
"ooOo, Lyutsifer.. , she moaned and pressed her arse requesting back. She felt his body covering her back as he leaned over her, felt his panting breath at her ear." Yes? ", he rasped out.
In Tatjana’s eyes dwelled tears as she opened her mouth and could not speak.
"I asked you something.", he hummed and rocked his hips lightly.
"I can't see you.", she eventually answered.
At the next second he pulled back and pushed her aside, pressing her down with his body. "Can you see me know?", he grunted and guarded his cock again inside her. Tatjana moaned and turned her head to him. "Yes. Thank you."
Both were just aware that this was the position he normally never used, in memory of the ghastly encounter they both had. At the first night of the red death. The one night he had taken her without her consent.
He watched her now, very close, his harder getting breath in her face, his grey blue eyes glued at hers. He didn't move yet properly, only rolling his hips.
"Yes?"
"yes.", Tatjana whispered and braced herself for a rough ride.
He was rough, yes. But quick and fast, using her cunt like a fist to finish, staring at her the whole time, grunting in pleasure.
His face sweaty and his breath breaking, he was even so kind to help her with his fingertips. At the end it was her orgasm, her cramping and tensing walls, that drew him with her.
Taglist:@dorminchu @poptod @thefluffiestseahorse @rathernotmyname @edteche2
#james bond fanfiction#Rami malek Fandom#Lyutsifer Safin#James bond#Tatjana Safin#Felix leiter#M#Q#Moneypenny#Marie Dupont ofc#Luc Dupont omc#Lyutsifer Safin x Tatjana Safin#James bond x eve Moneypenny#Lemon#Crime#Violence#Racism#Politics#Torture#Espionage#Death#Old Debts 15
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Scarlett and the Professor - date night
[continued from here] [NSFW material under the cut]
moodboard created by @strangelock221b 💜💙💜
Something seemed to have changed between them. Between them, or about him. Hennessy had taken her relentlessly back in his office, like the glorious sea storm that he is. Scarlett had been craving that all week, craving him like an addict for a fix. Optimism was her natural condition, but as the days had dwindled towards the weekend, doubt had plagued her. Now her faith was more than restored.
And Hennessy had been exceptionally kind with her, once their shared heat had found its fruition—going so far as to ask if he had hurt her in his urgency to have her. Helping her to set her clothes to right, offering her the use of the small, private bathroom adjacent to his office so that she could clean up before she headed off to her next class. And when she had done so, he had seen her to his door, and in a warm, smooth tone that had felt to her as one of true affection, proposed that they have dinner together that evening.
Scarlett had blinked in momentary disbelief, and Hennessy had grinned in unabashed amusement, taking her befuddled silence for consent. “I’ll pick you up at 7:00, love,” he instructed her, chucking her lightly beneath her chin, “And you should pack what you need for the weekend.” The honest warmth and fondness in his sea blue gaze had her heart aflutter, and though she hadn’t been able to muster a cogent reply, he continued, “I don’t plan to monopolize all your time, little lamb—after all, I wouldn’t want your studies to suffer. So do bring whatever things you need to keep up with your classes.”
“Of…of course,” she finally managed, memorizing the extraordinary softness in his expression, wondering just where this gentler version of Hennessy had come from. And how she had somehow become the lucky recipient. Scarlett nodded, smiling up at him guilelessly, “I’ll be ready and…and waiting, my jo…”
She might have said a few words more, but Hennessy had tilted her face close to his, his voice grown low and a little rough. “Of course you will, my jo,” he concluded, before brushing his lips upon hers, “I would expect no less.”
__________________________________
Scarlett had felt surprisingly nervous while she waited for Hennessy on the bench outside the entrance to her building. As nervous as on the evening of the first formal dance that Mam had finally allowed her to attend--and only because it was to be strictly chaperoned by the Felician Sisters who ran the prep school where Scarlett boarded. Her nerves hadn’t been on account of the boys that would be there; she had already kissed--and wee bits more--a fine array of farmer and fisher boys in her home village, most of whom had aspired to reap her innocence as well. No, on that night Scarlett had been nervous about the dancing. Her first in front of friends and the boys that the Sisters had arranged to participate in the festivities, from an all-boy prep school some fifty miles away.
Scarlett had weathered that experience well. Her dance card--an antiquated practice that the nuns had insisted upon--had been quickly filled, and by the end of the night, she had glowed with the confidence gained from twirling her way through too many dances to number, with the numerous boys who had shamelessly flattered her and asked repeatedly for kisses. Which she had rightly denied as instructed by her teachers, though there had been several she would’ve liked to snog if the Sisters hadn’t been watching their charges like hawks their helpless prey. Indeed, there had been a few intrepid young men who had dared to cop a feel as they danced her away from prying eyes--and Scarlett hadn’t been inclined in the least to protest such familiarities.
Even then, she had known--had seen with the foresight of her ancient Selkie ancestresses--that these mere boys were just for experience. That even those brief affairs she’d engaged in--wherein she had learned the first blush of Love, as well as the green and youthful heartbreak that inevitably followed--were simply preparation for something far more sacred to come. That sometime in the future, with the full bloom of her womanhood, would come such a Man as she had never known or even fantasized about. He would be no stalwart prince come along to rescue her from her backward village life (and a mother who sought to squelch any romantic inclinations that Scarlett bore). He would be a mystery, with the taste of the Sea about him in everything he did; he would take her like a tempest, unsettle her placid, sheltered life, and steal her heart without so much as trying. This Man would not bring her poetry as so many girls her age longed for, but passion like a fire that burned and cleansed and husked her out, only to fill her again and again with ecstasy of body and of heart.
Thus, Scarlett had decided some time ago that she would save herself as best she could for the lover her blood insisted walked the world far from her home shores. Not because Mam insisted that’s what good Catholic girls must do--but because she knew her greatest treasure was her heart, and only he that stirred her heart to a woman’s full desire, would be the one she lay with first.
As though summoned by that very thought, the man who had fulfilled her youthful expectations took the turn into the semi-circular driveway so sharply that loose gravel sprayed from beneath his roadster’s tires. Scarlett smiled to herself, recalling his penchant for rather reckless driving—and that somehow, she had already begun to feel safe as his passenger. Hennessy was as punctual as ever—she had learned early on that she could set her watch by him—and he pulled in front of her with a sudden stop. He tugged his sunglasses low enough on his nose to show himself giving her a thorough looking over and then indulged in a loud wolf whistle. “Scarlett,” he grinned, rising from his seat, “You’re a knockout!”
Scarlett had expected such a response from him. The dress was a souvenir of sorts, from her visit to Paris. It was unlike any she had owned then (and few which she owned now), daring and sexy, and had sat untouched in her wardrobe for years with the tags still attached. Awaiting the time that she grew the courage enough to wear it in public. ‘Twas a crepe de chine of pale, iridescent grey, which draped her curves with lovingly sinful attention. A dress that in the moment she had spied it the shoppe window, seemed designed primarily for temptation. When she had donned it this evening, Scarlett felt that she had been destined to wear if for Hennessy. She shrugged at his exclamation, and answered coyly, “You mean the dress? Only the best…or go without, I suppose.”
He had tucked his shades in the breast pocket of his dress jacket as he exited the car, and then popped open the boot before he came to stand before her. “With or without, darling, it’s all you. But as we need to be well behaved—at least through dessert—we’ll have to save without for later.” Hennessy flashed her a wink and then grabbed her overnight bag and her rucksack, which contained her art supplies. Along with a few choice ingredients which she had noticed his pantry had been lacking; Scarlett hoped to impress her lover with another special breakfast in the morning—unless he left her too sinfully exhausted to even think of cooking.
Hennessy stowed her bags, and then opened the passenger door, ushering Scarlett to her seat with a gentle hand on the small of her back. She noted an extra spring in step and a lightness in his tone that had her speculating that he was looking forward to the hours ahead as much as she was. In diametric opposition to the last time his car was parked in this exact spot. As she had readied herself for the evening, Scarlett had strictly maintained that the evening was not to be an actual date—not in the truest sense of the word, given Hennessy’s nature. Now, and suddenly, she was daring to think it might be exactly so.
_______________________________
Hennessy squired her to a posh restaurant tucked in an exclusive resort complex, bordering the sea’s edge. He had ensured their table was on the covered patio that overlooked the water, sure witness to the soothing, rhythmic lap of the waves against the wooden pilings beneath. They watched the fiery orange disk of the sun sink into the dark ocean waves on the horizon as they waited for the first round of drinks to arrive, and once he’d ascertained what Scarlett wanted for dinner, he smoothly ordered for them both.
He guided their conversation smoothly, too. Thoughtfully asking how her studies were going and how she was managing the major art project she had told him about the weekend before. And even dropping a few hints about how Scarlett might proceed with the paper for his class. Hennessy leaned a little closer to confide in a soft, benevolent tone, “I know you won’t disappoint me, Scarlett. To be honest, you’re one of my top students this term. Across all my classes in fact.” She felt a blush rise in her cheeks, but decided not to tell him that if she was excelling, it was because she had wanted to prove herself to him from the very first class. The day that he had stated unequivocally that A’s were very few and very far between, for he set a much higher standard than most students would find with their other classes. Already caught in the charm of his manner and good looks, she had vowed then and there to be just that exception.
His softly piercing eyes and his quirk of a smile spoke with pure sincerity, and his compliment was entirely unexpected, leaving her at a true loss as to how to reply. He took her hand, his fingers cool but sure as he wove them through hers, “You make me want to tempt you, my dear…”
He let that profession linger between them, making her breathless—surely as he intended--until she answered quietly. “You tempt me every moment that I’m…” she admitted shamelessly, “…that I’m in your presence. Without really trying.”
Hennessy laughed heartily, and raised her hand to kiss her knuckles. “Scarlett, you are a constant delight!” He grinned and added, “But I already know that you’d resist this temptation far too easily for my ego not to feel it.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, Professor,” she insisted, wide-eyed and warmed by his humorous regard.
“Trust me, darling. Should I try to persuade you to take up Marine Biology as your major, I know I’d fail.” He polished off his classic Manhattan, then added, “You have the talent, perception, and sensibility of a true Artist, Scarlett. And I wouldn’t want to see you squander those gifts for even a moment.”
Where, by all that’s holy, is this coming from, she wondered. He already owns my heart, without any need to flatter me so. Scarlett swiftly determined her course; take his praise with a healthy dose of skepticism. For she had learned all too well that Hennessy could be as changeable as the Sea he loved—subject to the fury of a sudden storm front. Unpredictable as the wind whipped waves, or the hot and cold currents that flowed unknown, beneath the surface.
_________________________________
Hennessy had suggested dessert, but as Scarlett had been unable to finish her generous portion of dinner, he had to have known that she would decline. Plus, he had gotten cozier as their evening passed, free in touching her both above and below the table, and as full dark descended around them, she felt no need to play shy or unwilling to entertain his advances.
By torchlight and starlight, his eyes gleamed with growing desire, and the wine she had consumed made her as pliable as he must’ve hoped her to be. Scarlett giggled at Hennessy’s naughty jests, growing warmer and warmer with the need he stoked in her belly and loins. Her nipples instantly pebbled when he brushed his fingers along the curve of her breast, a sight clearly revealed through the silky material of her boldly backless dress. He shot her a satisfied smirk upon seeing that, and was only interrupted from continuing his slow seduction by the waiter coming to refill their water goblets. Undaunted, Hennessy pulled her chair closer and moved in to kiss her neck, humming against her skin, “I plan to devour you once I get you out of here, little lamb. I hope you know there’s no escaping it.”
“Ohhhhh, yes, my jo,” she practically purred, “I dream of you doing that, and more. So much more.”
As they waited for the check, he made his most wicked public advance yet, sliding his hand from where it rested on her knee, up beneath her dress and slowly insinuated it into the apex of her thighs. Stroking his fore and middle fingers along her damp knickers, sparking her need for a deeper, fuller exploration. “Now there’s my pretty little lass,” he growled, “Ready to be tasted. Aching to be pleased.”
Scarlett moaned softly, squirming into his touch. Very grateful that most of the tables nearby had already emptied, else there would be witnesses to her unseemly behavior. Grateful too, for the cool breeze coming off the water, caressing her exposed and feverish skin. For Hennessy was a beautiful, beguiling devil, making her blood run hot as only he ever had.
She shocked herself by lowering her right hand to rest her palm on the back of his hand, encouraging him to play with her well. His eyes flared in an equal portion of surprise as he wet his sensuous lips. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, strengthening his strokes, “The good girl willingly becomes complicit in sin.”
“Yes…yes,” Scarlett panted, her eyes fluttering shut as she was enmeshed in his iniquitous spell, “But only the beautiful sins, my jo…and only with you…”
“Christ…we need to get outta here, now.” Scarlett could feel his impatience growing, as much as hear it in his voice. “Where is that goddamn waiter with the goddamn check!” Without any warning, Hennessy pulled his hand away, so that she opened her eyes to find that he had risen from his seat and had yanked the wallet from his pocket. Still dazed—and longing for the natural resolution to the need he had stirred her to—she watched him drop a wad of cash onto the table. “That’s a good bit more than he deserves for keeping us waiting like this. But I don’t intend to linger here just to get my change back.”
He pulled out her chair and prompted her to stand, brusque in commanding her, “Come along, Scarlett.” Then grabbed her hand a little roughly, leading her from the dining room towards the main entrance, only stopping when they reached the unattended cloakroom. Hennessy popped his head through the wide opening, softening his tone in case someone was actually somewhere inside. “Hullo- is anybody home? Hulloooooo?”
As no answer came—Scarlett guessed the restaurant only employed the coat check during inclement weather or during rare drops in temperature—he chuckled smugly, “As I expected. We should have the place to ourselves, little lamb.” Without further explanation, Hennessy hoisted her onto the window ledge. She gave a little ‘ooomf’ of surprise, but understanding his intention, she swiveled to hang her legs over the other side and hopped down. And then flicked on the bank of three light switches to the right of the window, eventually turning two of them off again; the lower level of light would be more than enough for their needs.
Meanwhile, Hennessy had nearly vaulted over the ledge and closed the wooden shutters, securing them with the center latch. “Necessity is the mother of invention, eh?” he grinned, pulling Scarlett deeper into the dimly lit recesses. He glanced about briefly, locating a pile of fresh tablecloths stacked in one corner, and used them to fashion enough of a cushion to suit his purpose, “Doesn’t this make a cozy little table for two…” Then he bowed at the waist and gave a sweep of his arm, raising a single brow as he reminded her, “I promised to devour you, didn’t I?” Hennessy loosened his tie and stripped off his jacket, tossing it onto the unused cloths left in the pile and then pulled her against his chest. His cool, right hand splayed across the center of her bare back had Scarlett humming deep in her throat, even as he seized her mouth with a deep, searing kiss. Breathing heavily when he relinquished her lips, before laying her down, “And you know damn well I’m a man of my word.”
Scarlett could nearly taste the desire burning between them as Hennessy leaned over her, his eyes grown too dark to read. Despite his obvious fervor, he hesitated a bit—long enough to ask if she was comfortable; such a little thing, but of great import to her heart. It proved to be his last moment of temperance throughout the interlude.
Hennessy shot her his handsome, wolfish smile, then darted down to steal both her breath and her reason, sweeping his tongue into her mouth while fondling her breast through the thin material of her dress. Scarlett laid one hand on his cheek, the other in his hair, and when he let the kiss dissolve, it was so he could coast hungry kisses across her check and onto her throat. Beginning to mark her heated flesh, as he so often did–and as Scarlett had learned to crave. She arched up to meet his mouth and laid her arms above her head, ceding herself to his hunger. His need. And to whatever else he willed.
“Mmmmm…” he hummed, trailing his lips from the hollow of her throat down the center of her chest, then atop the flimsy fabric to take one stiffened peak between his teeth and flick the tip of his tongue against it, while he tweaked the other between his fingers. Roughly. Greedily--though the cool, smooth silk covering her breasts softened the sting. When Hennessy drew her into his mouth, sucking hard, it felt so damn good that Scarlett hadn’t a care that he was spoiling the silk, for her long-prized frock had at last served its purpose.
Ah, but Hennessy still had his promise to keep; still nuzzling her through the cloth, he used both hands to rake her dress up past her hips, revealing a pretty pair of tap pants fringed with white lace on the silk which matched her dress. Scarlett shifted just enough to urge him on, and he brushed his mouth along the waistband, humming so deeply that she could feel his throat’s vibration on her skin. “Oh. Trespass. Sweetly. Urged.”
Scarlett sighed at his unexpected poetry, wondering that he should remember the romance of it while decrying Romance at every turn. As Hennessy tucked his fingertips beneath the band, she raised her hips enough to make it easier for him to slide her knickers down, and off her legs. Softly answering him, her heart intent with her reply, “Mmmmmm…yes…’give me my sin again’…darling, please…”
“Christ Scarlett,” he exclaimed, parting her legs and licking his full, luscious lips, “You make every sin I want to commit with you…commit upon you…somehow…sacred.” Then he was dropping his face between her thighs to taste her, slithering his tongue inside her wet folds, using his knowing fingers to set her secret flesh aflame.
Scarlett bent her knees and let her legs fall further apart, cooing his name as he savored her and played with her. Summoned that exquisite tension which made her want to vow that no other man ever would. She twisted the tablecloth beneath her in her hands, grinding herself against his beautiful mouth, and when he finally slid his tongue inside her, she cried out ‘oh fuck’ just as she felt herself give in to the pure bliss of the man she loved making her cum. Flooding his mouth with her essence. Seeing stars behind eyes squeezed shut at the intensity of her orgasm.
As those divine spasms subsided and her body relaxed, she looked down to find him watching her avidly, his lips and chin glossy with the proof of her pleasure. “Sweet fuck, baby…I’ve been missing that more than I care to admit…” Hennessy kneeled upright between her legs, breathing hard in anticipation. “But now it’s my turn,” he told her, flaring his eyes as he unzipped his trousers and pushed them and his briefs nearly down to his knees.
And how I’ve missed you, she thought, eyeing his engorged prick as it sprang forth, aching to have him fill her at once; every thick, hard inch of you, darling. He chuckled wickedly as Scarlett stared at it, so that she wondered–not for the first time since their beginning–if he had read her mind. If so, he must know how deeply lost in him she had become. Nearly enough to consider bartering her soul so that he would always want her–not only as lover and plaything, but also as a companion to the heart that he insisted was untouchable.
She raised her eyes to his and read his intention only moments before he grabbed her bottom to lift her pelvis up, closer to him, His fingers digging firmly into her flesh, in a seemingly unbreakable grip as he parted her cheeks enough to make her gasp. Hennessy nodded smugly, a growl of satisfaction resonating in his chest. “Eyes on mine, little lamb,” he directed her, “I want you focused on them while I fuck you.”
Scarlett nodded her ascent, though she wasn’t sure how long she could manage it. And somehow he knew that as well. “Just do your best, my sweet. I fully expect you won’t be able to last ‘til I finish–but I relish your obedience,” he told her, then added, “Just as I know you crave obeying me. Isn’t this so?”
She nodded more vigorously, and his smile looked absolutely victorious while he teased the leaking head of his cock against her opening. Hennessy grunted as he finally penetrated her, and she gave another gasp as he drove himself deep into her slick walls. He set a torturously slow pace, grunting hard with each full thrust, lingering to grind himself into her depths, then hissing softly through gritted teeth as he drew back. “Ahhhhhh, there’s my good girl…mmmmmm, my sweet lambkin…my beautiful, obedient Scarlett…”
Acclimations which she treasured in the midst of his lust, and which made her want to proclaim the truth of her affection for him–while knowing that Hennessy would disdain her forbidden sentiment. Instead, Scarlett concentrated on his dark, ever-compelling eyes, which so often seemed to see her truths without her speaking a word.
His rhythm was quickening as he built towards his climax, and soon he draped her left leg around his waist to free up his right hand. She smiled up at him dreamily, recognizing that he had done so to be able to touch her. To see to her satisfaction even as he pursued his own. God save me, but I love you, her mind shouted, unafraid if he should read that thought. If only you’d let me tell you, my jo! Once his thumb found her clit, once it began to run unceasing circles upon that swollen bundle of nerves, Scarlett closed her eyes, unable to obey his edit any longer.
Her mouth fell open, heedless of the sounds rising out of her. Anyone passing the shuttered room would know there was a woman inside being shagged roundly. Vaguely, she wondered if Hennessy had bothered to make sure the narrow side door was locked, to prevent discovery–not that she would want him to stop at this point, even if they had an audience. Scarlett was arching her hips up to meet each hard pump, and longing to touch him, but their position would not allow for her to reach him. Precisely as he wants it to be, she rued, it’s part of his need for control–and I can’t fault him for it. It matches the need I have to obey, which he had repeatedly pointed out. She stretched one arm toward him anyway, for if she could touch him, she’d lay her hand atop his as he fingered her to her climax.
Hennessy chuckled indulgently, “Easy now, love. I’ve got you.” He squeezed her cheek in his iron grip. “Cum for me like a good girl, Scarlett,” he panted, ”And afterwards, you can touch me all you want…”
She whimpered and lolled her head to the side, slipping off of the makeshift pillow he had crafted for her, tightening her muscles around him, desperate to feel his release in time with her own. “Ahhhh, fuck, baby…you feel so goddamn good,” he groaned, thrusting into her with the full force of his body, “Can’t stop it…can’t stop it nowwww…”
His body went rigid, except where they were connected, as his hot spend exploded into her, and Scarlett cried out as her body gave over to an ecstasy equal to his. They were bound together at the peak of pleasure, her walls spasming around him, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her. Time seemed to be suspended, while each descended from their highs, and only the sensation of Hennessy withdrawing from her and then lowering her to lay flat, brought her back to awareness. His neck, cheeks and even his ears were flushed with color, and he looked groggy and beautifully spent, though he had the presence of mind to tuck himself back inside his briefs before zipping up his trousers, and then flopping down beside her. Trembling from the ferocity of her orgasm, Scarlett immediately turned into him and he pulled her to his chest.
Hennessy kissed the crown of her head, waiting to speak until her tremors had ceased. “Are you alright, little lamb,” he husked against her hair, “As we may be pushing our luck if we stay here much longer.”
“Uh-huh,” she nodded, but really wished they could stay a while and let their bodies cool and settle, sharing quiet kisses and whispered endearments. “Whatever you think best, my jo…”
“Can you walk yet,” he chortled, smoothing his hand over her mussed hair, “Or shall I carry my sweet lass from our…” Again, he laughed softly, seeking the exact phrase he needed, “…den of iniquity?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she replied, a mite petulantly at his implication, “No worse for wear, in fact.”
“Of course you are, darling. I was only teasing.” Still, he stood up first and offered his hand to help her up, surprising her when he pulled her to him for a loving kiss. Hennessy rolled the soiled tablecloths into a bundle, and tossed it in the corner, winking at her impudently, “And now, no one will be the wiser.” He retrieved his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, covering the fresh love bites he’d given her and the stained bodice of her dress, and last of all, stuffed her knickers into his jacket pocket.
“Come along now, love,” he told her, taking her by the hand before jiggling the doorknob and discovering it had been unlocked the whole while. He opened the door enough to peek both ways in the hall outside, and with no ceremony (and a terribly cheeky grin) pulled Scarlett along with him.
Once they hit the pavement outside, Hennessy stopped and inhaled a deep breath of the ocean breeze. Scarlett watched, entranced by the confidence and pure, masculine beauty of his profile by starlight, wondering what other surprises he had in store for her the next two days. And for a third time this night, he looked at her as though he knew the train of her thoughts. “There will be adventures ahead for us, my bonnie lass,” he promised in an uncanny imitation of her brogue, “You have my word. But isn’t the anticipation just…glorious?”
Scarlett gave him an honest, demure smile, her agreement to and consent for whatever lay ahead implicit when she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm–readily allowing her beloved jo to lead her wherever he willed.
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Please click the link above the moodboard if you missed the last installment!
tagging: @thelostsmiles @strangelock221b @letterstosherlock @tsukuyomi011 @splunge4me2art @aeterna-auroral-avenger @cumbercougars @strangesunicornsparkle @ben-c-group-therapy @humanbornarchangel @ravencatart @khan-stid @frowerssx2 @elizaaugust @fluffy935
#my writing#Scarlett and the Professor#romance#passion#lust#smut#Scarlett Campbell#OFC#OMC#Professor Hennessy#not my OMC and used with permission#(as long as tacit permission remains)#Hennessy
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You’re one of my fave writers and deserve so much love and praise. I don’t mean to be pushy. Only wondering when can we expect an update with Scarlet and her jo? It’s amazing. By the by, is it on ao3? Thank you.
Well, thank you so much, dear Nonny!! 💖 Rest assured, I never find it pushy when someone asks for more of my work--I actually love it. As I love my Scarlett (and her wicked Professor). Although my pace has slowed with them, there are lots of chapters to come, and I am hoping (with my fingers crossed) to have a new one posted by the end of May.
I haven’t posted it on AO3 because Hennessy doesn’t quite belong to me. Their story started as a role play with another blogger, who has for their own reasons, discontinued our interaction. I do note this with every chapter that I’ve posted--not my OMC and used with permission. Such permission remains tacit as far as I know, for we haven’t communicated directly in a long time. I like to think that if they ever read what I’ve been creating, they would enjoy it, even if it isn’t exactly what we would have written together. If I should ever want to post it to AO3, I would be absolutely obligated to ask for their permission.
But in the meantime, please do stay tuned, for there is plenty more to come for the sweet little lamb and her lustful sea-wolf. They are connected not just by the pleasures of the flesh, but by something growing deeper with time spent together--and Hennessy is going to fight that every step of the way!
#thank you for your kind words dear Nonny#and for reading my work#my writing#Scarlett and the Professor#from my sideblog @wide-eyedscottishlass#Scarlett Campbell#OFC#her ancient Selkie blood#her wicked Professor#Professor Hennessy#Hennessy#not my OMC and used by permission#as long as tacit permission remains
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Her Heavy Cross
Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?
Pairing: OMC x OFC
Word Count: approx 3.8k
Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of death,
Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.
Part 17 Part 19
Part 18
It was a crazy week, and by Wednesday, I had had enough and wanted it to be all over. It was the last day of school for the term. The kids were rowdy, and it was hard for them to concentrate. I gave up structured lessons after the morning session, and we did Easter craft. Still, even craft was hard for my kids. Most of them can't use scissors without assistance or had to use modified ones set into a wooden block. It wasn't a bludge, but it was much less stressful for both the kids and myself.
I had playground duty at lunchtime. Some of the older mainstream kids had heard about Liam, and a few would walk past me and sing the theme song to his superhero movies. Others would have a conversation with me and sneak in a movie quote. Lucky for me, most of Liam's films weren't appropriate for children, so there were only a few they could use. The kids would run away giggling, and I would shake my head. I wasn't upset by it, kids are kids, and at least they made their fun to my face.
The parents were awful. The mums would go quiet when I was near them, and I would hear laughter or whispering as I walked away. The dads looked at me just that little bit longer, making me feel uncomfortable. I just tried to remember Liam's arms around me, the way he made me feel safe in his arms. I found myself touching my earrings a lot. They soothed me.
The worst part was the other staff. Not all of them, just a couple of the younger ones and newer ones. Their eyes seemed to bore into me in the staff room and in meetings. The ones who had been here when Andy died were good. They appeared to be on the same page as Marla had been. The rest of the support class teachers and TA's were kind. They actually asked me to my face about it, seemed happy for me, and then that was it they moved on.
My boss, Michael, did call me into his office on Monday afternoon. He was good about it mostly, just concerned because apparently, the office staff had received a few phone calls from a couple of media outlets trying to get in contact with me. The staff were good enough to hang up on them. I was honest with Michael and said I didn't know what my plans were, just that we were dating. I did tell him about how it would be official on Thursday, but it worked out well because the office would be empty for two weeks, and by then, I'll be old news.
When I spoke to Liam on the phone, I had told him about how I was feeling. I was honest about it as much as I could be.
Liam was empathetic and seemed sincere when he said I didn't have to go. "If it's too much, we can wait for another time. The dress you have will be as good in a few months as it is now. Or we can return it all and try again later." Cheekily he said, "I'll let you keep the earrings."
I declined. I wanted to get it over with. I figured the quicker it was done, the quicker no one would care, and I can go back into hiding. It was like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.
When I had gotten home from work on Tuesday, I had decided to do the hardest thing of all. I called Andy's mother.
Anthea was born in Greece and immigrated to Australia with her family in her early teens. She had met Andy's dad, Tim, a white Australian with Irish heritage, and they had a beautiful marriage. They had five children, three boys and two girls. Andy was the youngest son and was the unofficial favourite. She had always been lovely to me. She always called me Little Lana and would always hug me and insist I ate. On my birthday, she would make me galaktoboureko. She still calls me for my birthday and invites me over for Orthodox Easter and Christmas. I don't go, but I always make sure to call and send presents for my two godchildren.
"My Little Lana," Anthea gushed. "It is so good to hear from you. How are you going? Tim, Lana is on the phone! He will be so happy you called. Yes, Timothy, it's Lana. Yes, Tim says g'day. How are you? We miss you. How is work? How are your precious children? You do such good work, Little Lana."
Did I mention she talks a lot? She was one of those people who seemed to speak without having to take a breath.
"Hi Anthea, I'm doing well. Work is great, really good. I have a great bunch this year."
"Yes, you sound happy, Little Lana. Your new boyfriend must have something to do with it? He is very handsome. Not as handsome as Kamari mou but handsome. I showed all my friends, and they tell me you are still so beautiful and your hair is still so pretty and long. So long now. You've grown it."
I was stunned. I tried to talk, but the lump in my throat was so big, I couldn't swallow. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a huge sob, and I broke down.
"I'm sorry, Anthea, I am so sorry."
"Why are you crying? Stop it. Alana, why would I be upset? Why are you crying? Don't cry, silly girl. You should be happy. I do not expect you to be wearing black, like an old lady from my old country, for the rest of your life. I know you loved my son. but you're too young to grieve forever."
"I wanted to call you and tell you, but it happened so fast." I was still crying, but it wasn't so bad now. Anthea had comforted me in a way that I hadn't even known I needed. That she still loved me when I had started dating another man was incredible to me.
"You shhh, Little Lana. Listen to me. You have obviously called me for permission whether you know that's what you were doing or not. You have it, my blessing. Kamari mou wanted you to be happy also. He would not want you to be alone forever. You know this. Go speak to him, speak to Andy, and you will know."
"Thank you, Anthea."
"There now, Little Lana, you will be ok. Now no more speaking of sadness. I must tell you all the wonderful news. You will be an Aunty again soon."
Anthea talked to me for a little over an hour. Talking to Anthea was being talked at, but I needed it. I promised to call her again soon. She, of course, invited me to Easter but didn't expect a reply.
I felt lighter after talking to her. She was right. I had needed to know from her that she was ok with it. I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been. I don't think I would have ended it with Liam. I think I was in too deep, but it would have been much harder to go on.
Anthea was right about something else too. I needed to talk to Andy.
So after school on Wednesday, I drove to the cemetery. I went and saw my Dad first. I didn't have much to say to him. I just sat there and let the memories come to me.
I remembered when I was six, and he shaved his moustache off, and I hadn't recognised him. I had run screaming to my Mum that there was a stranger in the house. I remembered how he would take us to see the fireworks on New Year's Eve, getting there early to get good spots and watch in awe as the fireworks exploded over Sydney Harbour. Nothing was as breathtaking as my home city on New Year's Eve. I thought about how he loved David Bowie, and he had even convinced my mother to name my brother after him. Dave and I had taken Dad to see David Bowie a few years before he passed away, and it was one of the most incredible nights of my life. The Labyrinth is still my favourite kid's movie, and Jareth was my first crush. He looked so good in those tights.
I went to see Andy. I don't see him very often. I go on Boxing Day, his birthday and our anniversary. As had become my ritual on those visits, I had his old phone and listened to his playlist. I laid down on the grass next to him and looked up at the sky. After a while, I started talking.
"Hey Butthead," I started, smiling as I said our private nickname. "I've got some things to tell you. First of all, I miss you. But surely you know that. And I know you know I will always love you. You were such a beacon in my life. A light for me when everything else was dark. I was like a moth to your flame. You drew me in, making me want to be close to you. You always made me feel like everything would be ok if I just stayed in your light. Things were so dark when you were taken from me. For so long, I felt nothing. Everything was dark.
"But then I started feeling better. I still missed you every day, but I wanted to find that again. Feel that love and safety again. I started dating about six months ago. Online mostly, you know, how the kids do it these days. I went on a few dates but felt nothing. Or if I did feel something, I felt like they weren't as good as you. Why would I settle for anyone who wasn't as good as you?
"I don't mean the same as you. I mean someone who moves me the way you did. Someone who showed me kindness like you did, someone who made me laugh, made me feel giddy. Someone I was attracted to. But also someone I wanted to do things for, someone who I wanted to go out of my way for, not because they forced me, but because I wanted to because I knew they would do it for me.
"I was about to give up. I only tried dating for a few months, but it felt so futile that I didn't care anymore. Then this guy started messaging me. He was sweet and funny, a Pom, but don't hold that against him. Anyway, I liked him instantly. It scared the shit out of me. I made him wait three months before I agreed to meet him. I was so scared because I knew I could fall for him.
"And when I met him, the sparks were there. It was instant. He was all the things I wanted. He's not like you. You're both very different. I mean, he doesn't like Mad Max for God's sake. But he makes me feel the way you made me feel. And Andy, I am falling for him."
*********************
"Lana, hold still." Jen was pulling my hair. I looked over at Riza, who was covering her mouth with a magazine. Her shaking shoulders gave her away, though, and I could see she was laughing her arse off. "I only have a couple more to do, and then you can go home and sleep."
I was at Riza's place. I had to see Jen after I spoke to Andy. Jen wanted to put my hair in pin curls. She had washed my hair and then got started pinning small sections of my already curly hair into curls.
I thought it was weird, but she said the hair has to be curled in the right direction for the style to work. She also said that the longer the curls were in, the better the result. That's why I was at her place, getting my hair done 24 hours before the event. How do celebrities live like this?
"How the hell am I going to sleep in this?" Riza's dropped all pretence and was laughing openly at me now. "Get bent, Riza."
"Hey! You're the one who looks like a 1950's housewife right now."
"1940's babe," Jen admonished. "Get it right."
When she finished, she wrapped my hair in a silk scarf. "Did you buy me an apron to go with the barefoot in the kitchen look?" I asked.
Jen laughed. She knew me well enough to know it was a joke. "Trust me. You're gonna love it."
"So when do I take the clips out?" I asked Jen.
"Not until I do your hair."
My eyes bulged. "I'm going to Liam's place hours before you're going to get there."
Riza pissed herself laughing, and Jen just said, "trust me."
When I got in bed, I rang Liam. I Facetimed him. Maybe if he laughs at me now, he won't laugh at me when I'm there, which would break my heart. His reaction surprised me.
"Why are you wearing a scarf? Please tell me you didn't dye your hair." He looked devastated.
"And what if I did?" I asked.
"You would still be you. It wouldn't change anything." He sputtered.
"Nice save," I laughed.
"I think being a redhead suits you. It makes you a little different."
I told Liam it was to protect the pin curls so they don't frizz. "You don't have to worry about me dying my hair until I start going white. I've never died my hair. It's my natural colour."
Liam's lip twitched. "I've noticed." He said.
I could have died.
On Thursday morning, I skipped the gym for obvious reasons, showered carefully so as not to wet my hair and started to get ready. I packed my bag and packed a bag for Perrin with his bed, crate, and food. I did a quick run through the shops to the dressmaker to pick the dress up from the dressmaker and to buy underwear for the dress. I didn't need a bra, but I wasn't going without underpants.
In the morning, I pottered, waiting for lunchtime to arrive and for Liam to finish his half-day at work. I was so jittery I had dropped my coffee this morning, and the mug had smashed. Not having anything to do and waiting for hours made it all worse. I had to do something, so I painted my nails and watched Kill Bill Vol. 1.
The story took me over, and soon I was transported with the action and exceptional dialogue. I decided the only person who could convince me to be an actor would be Quentin. I even went and got out my "Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino" hoodie for added comfort. When it was over, I did feel a little better and whistling the song from the movie, I got Perrin and went to Liam's.
By the time I got to Liam's house, the nerves had come back. I found it hard to concentrate and almost just walked Perrin into the backyard. I sighed and put Perrin on his leash and texted Liam that I was here, and walked to the park with Perrin. We had planned a way to introduce the dogs during the week. The snag was I had agreed to it before I knew about the hair situation. But I found an old bucket hat of Andy's that fit and hid most of my head. I still felt ridiculous, but at least the hat somewhat normal.
When I saw Liam, my heart leapt. I wanted to run to him, have him hold me, soothe away all the pain of the last week and fear of tonight. But we had to introduce the dogs first.
We walked to each other as Perrin and Cole had a little sniff of each other. There was no immediate dislike.
"Hello, Sweetheart." His voice took my breath away.
"Hi," I said.
"Cute hat."
"Arse." I was smiling, though.
"I've missed you," he smiled broadly.
I gave him a small smile.
Liam farrowed his eyebrows. "These two look like they are ok," he said. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
I nodded, and Liam leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before we started to walk. We went side by side, keeping the dogs apart. Liam put his arm around my shoulder.
"You're very quiet this afternoon," he said after a few minutes.
"I'm nervous."
"About the dogs or tonight?" He asked. "Or something else?"
"Tonight." I felt like a petulant child with all these short remarks, but I couldn't give him anymore just yet. I let my head rest on his shoulder to try to let him know he wasn't the reason I was acting distant.
Liam squeezed me. "You'll be ok. You're going to be dressed beautifully and appropriately. No one is going to laugh at you. You'll see. Myra and Boyd are all excited to meet you. This is Myra's boyfriends first red carpet, too, so you won't be the only virgin." He paused and chuckled. "Although, I had better keep you two apart. He's a sparky? I think that's the word. I don't want him stealing you away from me. I know how much you love tradies."
I laughed. Liam had said all the right things in a few moments, and I felt calm again. At least calm enough that I can have a conversation. "Thanks, Liam," I said and kissed his cheek.
We walked for about half an hour. The dogs walked together for a bit. Perrin, being so old, was pretty laid back about the whole thing and Cole, while curious, just seemed happy to be making a new friend.
When we got back to Liam's house, we let them leashes off, and Perrin had a sniff around the yard. Cole either followed behind him or bounced around in front of him as if he were saying, "come look at this place over here."
While Perrin explored, Liam stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes a moment, listening to the sounds of the city.
"You're such a good hugger," I told Liam as I turned around in his arms and put my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his shirt, seeking his warmth and familiar scent.
"A compliment. From you? With no sarcasm?" Liam teased. "It must be my lucky day."
"Just shut up and kiss me," I said, and I lifted my head to meet his. Our kisses were soft at first, but they became more than that very quickly.
Liam pulled away and said, "we aren't alone. Ryan is here." Liam suggested that Ryan stay with the dogs while we were out. He would be back on Sunday and Monday, too, to take Cole for a walk and play.
I sighed. "Riza will be here soon anyway. We better get these guys inside and settled."
We took the dogs inside and got them set up. Then and I met Ryan, who was working in Liam's study. I don't know what I expected from Ryan, but a Scottish Hercules was not it. He was at least as large as Liam, had dark hair and green eyes and although he paled in comparison to Liam, he was handsome and instantly likeable.
We shook hands, and he said, "it's nice to meet you, Lana. I've heard a lot about you, so it's nice to put a face to the name." His accent was noticeable but not thick, and he spoke with a confident calmness that must be essential in his job. He doesn't mention or look at my scarf, which is a relief. I smiled and said, "Same. I keep hearing all these names, so it's nice to meet finally."
Liam gets me to put Ryans number in my phone. He said I should call Ryan if I need to contact him if he's not reachable while filming. I look at Ryan, and he nods as he says, "it's my job."
I do it, but I roll my eyes. He's not my assistant.
We let Ryan get back to work, and we go out to my car to bring my stuff in. By the time I've set up Perrin's things and sorted out my put my bags away, Riza and Jen arrive.
Liam opened the door for them, and Riza stood stunned for a moment. "Damn, you're built like a brick shithouse." Riza was very petite, half a head shorter than me, so you'd think she'd be used to everyone being bigger than her.
Liam, bless his cotton socks, laughed and put his hand out. "You must be Riza."
Riza took his hand, "yeah, mate, how's it going?" Liam stood aside to let her come in. She was hauling a massive makeup case, and Liam offered to take it for her. I thought she would bristle at his offer, but instead, she just gave it to him.
I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, indicating my surprise. She just shrugged and gave me a strange look, and looked straight back at him. Riza is a pocket rocket type and prefers to be seen as one of the boys a lot of times. Andy even invited her to his bucks weekend despite her being my maid of honour, so the whole interaction was unusual.
Jen came in and introduced herself to Liam, and it was a much more civilised exchange than Riza's.
I gave them both hugs and kisses on the cheek. "Thanks for doing this, Jen and you too, Riza."
"No worries," Riza said.
Liam offered them both some wine and looked at me to see if I wanted one. I agreed, and we all sat in the lounge room.
Riza grabbed my hand when Liam had his back turned, "Sorry Lans, I think I got star struck. I'm a fucking dickhead."
Jen and I laughed at her, and I said, "serves you right for taking the piss out of me last night."
Liam came back with glasses and a bottle of white wine and poured us all a drink before taking a seat next to me. He sat next to me, resting his arm on the lounge behind me and put his ankle on his knee. His foot bounced, and I looked at him, and it struck me that he was anxious.
I put my hand on his foot to soothe him and turned to Riza and said, "did I tell you that Liam planned a trip to Mt Hotham this winter? I think it was June? Queens Birthday weekend? Before your Mum comes. Anyway, Riza, you spent a few winters there. Got any ideas for some good runs?"
That was it, the two of them talked about skiing, and the tension in the air lifted. I even swapped seats with Riza and sat with Jen for a bit. Once I could tell Liam and Riza were comfortable with each other, I asked Liam where Jen could set up.
Liam said to go to the master on the third, and he went to get up to take us there. I told him Jen, and I could be fine, and he smiled at me and kept talking to Riza. Jen and I smiled at each other and went up to get ready.
Part 19
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(Unlocked spoilers) this WASNT meant to be a fanfic so I’m not sure what it became
Pretty soon after Keefe gets dragged back to the Lost Cities, he goes to Tiergan’s house to practice some mental exercises with him in hopes of controlling his tone as well as thoughts a bit more.
He arrives in the middle of the day, about when Tiergan told him to, and Linh is the one who answers the door to let him in. He’s admittedly a bit early, so it’s not really surprising when Linh tells him that Tiergan isn’t quite ready yet, but he’s home and making lunch, so she brings Keefe to him anyways.
Keefe greets him with a little bit of an anxious wave, embarrassed that he got there too early, but Tiergan seems completely fine with it and is even making enough food for him to have. He asks Linh to take a Keefe to the dining room table while they wait.
Keefe and Linh sort of sit at the table awkwardly for a moment before Linh starts catching him up on some things he’d missed. She’s halfway through her story when all the sudden...
“LIIINNNHH”
Linh just gets this look of- like- pure terror on her face for a moment and then all the sudden there’s Tam, sprinting down the stairs and crashing into walls to get to them. His face is pink and the emotions Keefe can feel through the air are, what he assumes to be, embarrassment, anger, and... fear?
“Did you ask- did- Jasper-“ He can’t even finish his sentence.
Linh stands and nods before Tam takes a deep breath. Keefe is watching in amusement.
It takes a few seconds before Tam speaks again. His voice is soft- deadly soft. “I’m going to kill you.”
And then he’s chasing a screaming Linh around the dining room table scream-asking her why the hell she did that only for her to scream-respond with “YOUR LOVE LIFE NEEDED SOME HELP”
Keefe is still watching in amusement- and also mild interest- as they chase each other around the table and Tiergan walks in. The man doesn’t even looked phased as Linh then Tam- who’s hot on her heels- passes him. He looks at Keefe, sighing.
“Can you grab Tam before he murders his sister?”
Thankfully, the Tam is too busy screaming threats at Linh as Keefe stands up from his seat and grabs Tam’s arms, holding him directly in front of him with a grip made of steel.
Except, Tam is still fighting him, trying to get to Linh who’s stopped and is catching her breath. He’s still being loud too, so Keefe has no other option but to put his arms under Tam’s and hold him that way. He adjusts to use one hand to cover Tam’s mouth as well.
“What’d you do?” Tiergan demands at Linh who gives a sheepish smile.
“I just asked a cute guy to call Tam - AND-“ she adds as Tam begins to fight again- “I also told him that Tam had no idea I was asking or anything like that.”
Tam goes back to attempting to break free from Keefe’s hold the second she finishes her sentence. He’s trying to say something too.
Keefe looks back at Tiergan for permission to let Tam talk.
“YOU TOLD HIM YOU THOUGHT WE’D MAKE A GOOD COUPLE, YOU ASS!”
Keefe covers Tam’s mouth omce more to let Linh speak her defense.
“Tam, you realize I cancelled plans to binge watch Disney movies with you- my brother- last night, right? That’s kind of sad.”
Tam has given up the fight against Keefe by that point, but Keefe can still feel the embarrassment and anger in huge waves.
“Linh.” Tiergan begins.
“What? His love and friendship life both need major help this is sad to watch.”
Tiergan sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. As Tam yells something into Keefe’s palm.
“In fact...” Linh is far too pleased with whatever she’s about to say, “Keefe, why don’t you hang out with Tam. You two can go out for coffee tomorrow- oh! Or even tonight!”
Tam is so flustered Keefe is amazed he hasn’t burst into flames.
Keefe makes sure his voice is soft and quiet before he speaks. “If I take Tammy Boy on a date, will you two stop trying to kill each other?”
Linh seems estatic. Tam... Keefe can’t even tell what Tam is feeling between the waves of humiliation and maybe even mild joy.
Either way, the Shade is back to trying to escape, but he seems less like he wants to kill his sister and more like he wants to run into the woods and never resurface.
“I wasn’t really trying to kill him,” Linh says, smiling, “but yes. I’m sure the same goes for him!”
Tiergan sighs again and Keefe is red- if he wasn’t already- at the reminder that the twins’ adoptive father is still in the room.
“Keefe, I’m so sorry for this all, but can you bring Tam to his room?”
Tam’s head whips to the side as he tries to look at him. He says something, gesturing at Linh. Whatever he said, he isn’t happy about it.
Tiergan looks towards the girl now. “And Linh, you’re making Tam’s bed for a week.”
Tam argues- or, tries to- again only to receive a shrug.
“You got a date out of it, did you not?”
Keefe let’s Tam speak once more as he turns to drag him out. The good news is that Tam has completely given up- the bad news is that Tam has completely given up and is therefore going to have to be dragged like a literal rag doll to wherever his room is.
“I don’t wanna and neither does Keefe.”
“Don’t speak for me and don’t lie.” Keefe huffs, dragging him across the room.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *continue that for like four more lines*
So because of this I read the unlocked wiki summary so thank you to the people who updated that and all I have to say is I LOVE THIS LIL THING LIKE AAAAAA (if you make one of their date you wanna wanna hand that over too-)
#I am not kidding#I am getting yeeted back into a kam correct#but seriously if anyone#and I mean anyone#is nervous about posting their stuff#send it here I will love it#tatertot asks#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc fic#tam song#keefe sencen#unlocked spoilers#unlocked 8.5#unlocked#kotlc kam#kam
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A Proper Mandalorian Courtship - Chapter 2
Title: Hurt, Healing, Help
Pairing: Paz x OFC, OFC x OMC
Word Count: ~2350
Rating: MA
Warnings: Cursing, canon-typical violence, crack humor that’s also serious
Chapters::Ch 1 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5
📚 My Master List 📚
Notes: This chapter contains potentially triggering material. Warnings for: mentions of past child abuse, past violence, and a lot of cursing. No graphic details, just a passing mention of certain situations that have occurred.
The flashback occurs ~ten years before the story is currently happening.
Also, your nickname is Shu'shika. It means tiny disaster. I've been trying to format the HTML for this update on AO3 for two hours now, I don't think I can handle any more of the text popups right now. Also posted on AO3, where you can hover over the stuff in Mandoa or unfamiliar terms to see translations and notes.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes and translations. Also let me know if you want to be tagged or something. @mandalorerose I am so sorry, pls don’t goor me from the server.)
[flashback]
The bright sunlight fills the clearing, bringing a touch of warmth to the smoky, frosty morning air. High up in the trees, the birds flit from branch to branch, watching the proceedings with unabashed curiosity. Occasionally, tiny creatures fight amongst themselves, scolding each other with a flurry of chirps.
Grinning, Paz sidesteps Neten’s blow easily, clamping down on his bracer tightly. Using the other man’s momentum, Paz latches onto Neten’s extended arm and pulls hard, causing him to lose his balance. Once he stumbles forward, Paz gives him a good shove, sending him careening forward into the soft grassy earth. A low ‘ooh’ goes up from the crowd as Neten trips and slams into the ground with a heavy thud. Paz nods, holding back, giving Neten enough time to recollect himself.
“Nice form, good strength,” Paz says, to encourage the younger man. “Let’s go through it one more time. Then we’ll break for water.”
“Sounds good, alor'ad,” Neten says.
“Swing at me,” Paz orders. “And I’ll show you the best way to…”
He trails off when he receives notification that his door alarm has been disabled. His brow furrows as he considers it for a few moments. Neten falters.
“Uh, you still with us, alor'ad?” Neten asks.
“Yeah, sorry,” Paz said. “Swing at me.”
Paz recently upgraded the locking mechanism to keep the kids out of his candy stash. He does not mind sharing, but when six kilos of candy disappear in one week, he has to put his foot down. That, or the other parents would strangle him. Paz shakes away the feeling of unease and catches Neten’s fist in his. Grasping firmly, he halts Neten’s attack, freezing him in place.
“You’re trying to build up momentum from too far away. See how this leaves you open while you're swinging? Get in a bit closer,” Paz says, showing Neten how his previous attack left him vulnerable with a solid blow to the gut. “Stick a bit closer and – “
The door chime goes off again. Then it disables itself a second time. Zeli said she would be busy helping in the kitchen today. Paz frowns.
“Uh, right. When I push you forward, roll into the fall,” Paz says. “It’ll give you some space to work. Now, try it again.”
Neten swings a third time. Paz pushes him harder this time. Instead of falling, Neten curls his body forward and rolls into the fall. He comes up on his feet, but quickly loses his balance. He falls over.
“Shit,” Neten sighs.
“Just takes practice,” Paz says. “Get up, you’ll get it right.”
After walking him through the proper counter a few times, Neten finally manages to roll directly onto his feet and absorb the momentum with his knees. Then Paz turns to the crowd.
“Partner up,” he says. “Neten, you partner up with Fen.”
As he assigns partners, he chooses to place the most advanced fighters with the novices to ensure they teach the others. Paz finds he still cannot shake that weird feeling in his gut. Something nags at him until he decides to go investigate.
“Revala,” he says. “Keep an eye on these idiots for a minute?”
“Sure thing alor'ad,” she says, coming forward. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah…I just need to check on something,” he says. “No more than a few minutes. If they give you any backtalk, you have my full permission to make them run until they drop.”
“Yes, sir,” Revala exclaims gleefully as she turns back to their drilling vod, “Alright, losers, I’m in charge, and I’m going to make you suffer.”
“Gaa’tayl, alor'ad!” someone yelps.
Rousing laughter fills the clearing at the plea for help.
“K’atini!” Paz snaps over his shoulder. Wimps.
He turns toward the entrance to the hideout. Their current home is situated deep in a granite canyon. It was at one point some sort of pirate bolt hole, but over the decades, other Mandalorians had come and gone, making the space larger and adding some basic furniture. It is cramped, but it is well-hidden and easy to defend. Not only that, the family quarters have separate showers, a perk he does not hesitate to abuse. He makes his way down the main hallway, avoiding the fistfight between Din and Terys.
“If you two are going to slap each other like whiny little aruetiise, do it outside,” Paz snaps.
“He ate my uj’ayali,” Din snaps in response. “I was saving that, you dickhead – “
“I didn’t eat your fucking uj’ayali,” Terys grunts as he elbows Din in the side.
Paz shakes his head and continues toward the living quarters. Winding through the hallways, he finds himself surrounded by a throng of scuffling children. He breaks it up with a firm growl and sends the guilty parties to time-out. At long last, he comes to his door. As his hand hovers over the pad, he feels that sense of dread worsen, like a block of lead has suddenly materialized in his belly.
Paz almost hesitates, but he pushes forward. Something isn’t right here. He types in the code and watches as the door silently unlatches and swings open. He steps into the living area, his feet heavy and uncooperative. That feeling in his gut warns him to stay silent.
When he sees Zeli’s boots on the floor, he frowns.
He sees the second pair, hidden just out of sight, at the same time he hears Zeli’s cry. Paz inhales sharply and turns toward the bedroom, thinking that someone is actively forcing themselves on his beloved.
“Yes, Liam!” she cries out, stopping him in his tracks.
Paz can only stare, his stomach roiling violently at the sight of the two figures entwined under the light sheets. For several seconds, he stands there, frozen. Taking in the sights and sounds of their lascivious coupling. The wet slap of sweaty flesh meeting and Zeli’s throaty, animalistic keening. The way her short pink nails dig into Liam’s shoulders. The way he fervently fucks into Zeli, repeating what Paz had done with her just hours before.
“Oh, gods, Liam! Harder, h-harder!” she sobs, her sinewy body arching under his.
“Ni copaani hailir gar,” he pants. “Gedet’ye, cyare."
From here, he can see her digging her heels into his backside. The raised red welts she has left along his spine and shoulders. The livid bite marks along her shoulders.
As the harsh, unpleasant shock starts to set in, he feels his lips and face go numb, a deafening roar filling his ears. His chest tightens as he tries to tear himself away from the lurid scene, only for his gaze to land on the couch.
They had placed their helmets on the seat - her cherry-red helmet next to his deep grey helmet, the forehead ridges pressed together in a sweet kiss. As if to mock him. Paz turns his stinging eyes to the low table. The pieces of their armor are arranged neatly on the table. It is clear to him that the lovers had taken turns stripping each other, piece by piece.
This is not an act of drunken, frenzied passion.
This is a deliberate act of practiced intimacy.
In the years Paz and Zeli have been a couple, building their future together, she has not once asked him to use blindfolds. She has never once asked to break down that one last barrier keeping them from tasting each other’s lips for the first time. Yet here she is, fucking one of their closest friends in his bed. All while stringing him along with the promise that they will be one, that they will remove their helmets for each other for the first time on their wedding night.
How many times has Zeli allowed him to debauch her in their bed? In the same bed where Paz professed his love for her for the first time? The same haven where they spent countless hours in each other’s sweat-slick arms, fantasizing about the warriors they would eventually gift the tribe? How many times has he run his fingers along her breasts and inadvertently dragged his fingers through the dried remnants of another man’s sweat and saliva?
Revolting nausea fills him, that numb feeling creeping through his entire body, leaving him feeling so empty and cold. As his hands begin to shake, he clenches them into fists at his sides, his breath coming in shuddering pants as he struggles to not fucking sob. Bile rises in his esophagus, leaving his throat feeling bloody and raw.
Why?
Why?
The question keeps chasing itself through his thoughts as the agonizing knot in his chest threatens to tear him apart. He hears a giggle from the bed as Zeli flips Liam onto his back, the sheets shifting to reveal the delectable curve of her lower half, plump and succulent as she starts to bounce on his cock.
“Come in me, cyare,” she purrs to him.
“A-are you sure? You’re not - not - contraceptive – “
“Paz won’t know,” Zeli laughs. “He’s desperate for kids.”
Those words are the catalyst for his rage, like a lit match dropped into a barrel of volatile jet fuel.
Incandescent rage unfurls explosively in his chest, evaporating the cold sorrow that had once filled him in an instant. He feels his blood pressure and heart rate spike, leaving his vision thin and black and pulsating at the edges. Paz takes one menacing step toward the doorway, his entire body trembling as he struggles to contain the inner maelstrom of hatred.
It would be so, so easy for him to make them suffer, to make them feel the bone-deep agony they have inflicted on him. All he has to do is step into the bedroom. Look at their faces. Break the blood-oath of secrecy they had sworn to uphold a second time. By seeing their faces, he is a witness to their identities, and they will not be given the option to marry.
With just a few more steps, he can destroy them; he can take away everything and everyone they have ever loved. He can make Zeli’s worst nightmare a reality – she will lose her father, her sisters, and her friends. She will have only her lover by her side. Liam will be declared dar’buir by proxy. They will both be exiled in their dishonor and shame.
Suddenly, he sees Zephyr’s gap-toothed, mischief-filled grin and he comes to a grinding halt.
Zephyr was broken when Liam had found him huddled in the burnt-out husk of his ancestral home. Raiders had tortured his family and forced him to watch as they were killed, one by one. After they had taken their amusement, they had beaten Zephyr, leaving the young boy to die alone in the wastes. It was only by pure fortune that Liam had seen the smoke and gone to investigate, thinking it was his prey.
Instead, he had found a mute six-year-old boy wrapped in a ragged, blood-stained blanket, his tiny, emaciated frame covered in a multitude of bruises and lacerations. It took three years of love from the Tribe for the boy to speak again. After those first words, Zephyr had risen from the ashes of his shell, soaring like the celestial starbird.
Zephyr had finally found his voice and his manda, bringing life and light back into his eyes.
His gut wrenches and a new type of agony lances through his heart. It pierces him, wounding him so deeply he physically cannot breathe. He bites down hard on the sides of his tongue to stifle the sob threatening to escape his throat. His teeth break skin and the taste of copper fills his mouth. Paz cannot do it. He cannot be the reason Zephyr has to relive the loss of his family.
He will not be the reason the light leaves Zephyr’s eyes again. No amount of agony inflicted upon him - a grown man - could ever justify harming an innocent child for the sake of revenge.
Paz forces himself to exhale. Blinking, the tears finally fall, burning their way down his cheeks before finally soaking into his beard. Stiffly, he makes his way back to the couch and picks up their helmets, taking Zeli’s in his left and Liam’s in his right.
Acrid bitterness fills the shattered remains of his heart as he looks down at Zeli’s helmet. The paint on the forehead ridge has worn away from the many passionate kisses they have shared. Cynically, he wonders how much of that paint was worn away by Liam. How many embraces have they shared behind his back? How many times have they bared their fucking souls to one another in his bed?
Paz turns back to the door and exits, leaving the couple to their tryst. As the door clicks shut behind him, he suddenly feels intense exhaustion, his armor suddenly becoming stifling and heavy. Each breath feels like tar in his lungs as he leans heavily against the wall opposite the door.
“Hey, Paz,” Din says, coming toward him. “Bad news. Your idiots outside managed to set something on fire – “
Seemingly sensing something wrong, Din comes to a halt an arm span away. He leans forward slightly, coming to his side, in a show of brotherly concern.
“Ori’vod,” Din says softly. “Are you okay?” Paz draws in a great, gasping breath, his gaze still fixed on the door.
“Not in the least bit, vod,” he admits hoarsely, his voice breaking.
Din looks down at the helmets in his hands and comes to the only logical conclusion. He hisses through his teeth.
“I will drag them to the Foundry like the worthless fucking hut’uun they are,” Din hisses, his fingers flexing as he takes a step toward the door.
“No,” Paz says immediately, shaking his head.
“Why the fuck not?” Din demands sharply, his voice rising to an angry roar. “They betrayed the Oath, Paz!”
“Din, keep your voice down,” Paz says, ushering him away from the door and toward the Foundry. “I know what they did.”
“He called you his brother,” Din snaps angrily. “She called you her intended. They are liars, they broke their Oaths - !”
“Zephyr,” Paz says, his voice cracking again. “I don’t want to risk…”
The rage leaves his brother in an instant. He deflates like a wilted desert orchid. Din sighs gustily, looking between him and the door.
“What can I do to help, vod?” Din asks quietly.
“Just keep people away from me for a while,” Paz utters. “Armorer…she will know what to do.”
Gods, he prays she knows what to do.
“Absolutely,” Din says, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll always be here, ori’vod.”
Paz swallows thickly and nods, not trusting himself to speak. When he has regained control over his legs, he starts the long walk to the Forge. Each step feels like he is scaling some sheer cliff, the air thin and frosty in his lungs. Din runs interference, keeping the people trying to get his attention at bay. Pausing, he closes his eyes and considers what he is about to do.
Aliit maan bal solus kyr’yc.
He knows what the right thing to do is. Paz just does not know if he can do it.
For the first time in his life, he finds himself questioning his faith.
-
-
-
[current]
Armorer is in the middle of brewing a pot of her favorite tea when she hears footsteps in the Foundry. She looks up and sees Paz poking his head around the main doorway. That simple gesture brings back many memories of their earlier years together. Armorer has left the door to her private quarters open, the curtain drawn back, inviting those in need of guidance into her home.
She reaches for a second cup just as he reaches to knock on the door frame. Even though they’ve been family for nearly three decades, he still insists on knocking.
“Paz, join me,” she says.
He steps inside, ducking his head in a polite, respectful greeting.
She turns back to the chipped tea pot. Their new Tribe introduced them to the concept of tea, and now, she indulges every afternoon. Paz joins her and pulls a metal straw out from his gauntlet.
“What brings you here, Paz?” she asks, as the scent of the hot, spiced tea permeates the air.
He stares down at the cup, tension filling his massive frame.
“I wanted to ask your advice on something,” he says in a serious tone.
She remains silent, her brow furrowing.
“I’ve taken an interest in a woman,” he says. “And I want to ask her to be my partner. I want to know more about proper courtship traditions.”
It is only through years of experience and training that she does not jerk in surprise. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She is somehow surprised and not surprised at the same time. He has gotten to that age where a hunter starts staying at home for longer periods of time to teach their skills to the next generation. Although he is also bound to be lonely, she cannot recall him mentioning a partner.
She knows her friend, and she knows he will not entertain the idea of a serious relationship without the promise of marriage. After what the aruetiise had done to him, he had thrown himself into the hunt, turning his back to the possibility of marriage. Or anything long-term, really. The wounds were so deep she did not think he would ever fully heal.
He – like the rest of their kind – has been shaped from birth by hardship and struggle. He has had to fight for the victory of every single sunrise. Despite the crushing setbacks in his personal life, Paz has held his head high, always teetering on the edge of fully reaching mandokar - the ideal virtues of a Mandalorian warrior. It is that lost lust for life that has held him back all these years.
Now, he is ready to move forward, to hunger for each moment and experience in his life. Throughout the years, Armorer has seen glimpses of the warrior he could become. He is on that path now. Her heart fills to the point of overflowing for him.
She nods once.
“You know of our Tribe’s tradition of exchanging blades before the vows are spoken,” Armorer says.
Paz nods.
“What about here?”
“Alor Dezha has remarked that the Elders prefer to publicly acknowledge that the vows have been exchanged before the wedding night physically occurs. They typically do this as part of the wedding feast. Ultimately, it is your decision. You may choose one, both, or neither. As you know, we make do with with what we have. We do not have rigid rules in place.”
“That’s less complicated than I thought it would be,” he responds. “Nevertheless, I want to do this the right way for her. I think I’d like to do both.”
She is truly pleased with the news. If he is interested in entering the riduurok there is a chance he is also interested in rearing offspring. He will make an excellent spouse, parent, and teacher.
The youngest child here is eight years old. In just a few years, he will be fitted for his armor, and he will no longer be a child. Armorer and many others have expressed the desire to hear more little feet in the hallways. Hopefully, Paz will continue doing what he does best – inspiring and encouraging others through his leadership and his unwavering dedication to the Resol’nare.
Perhaps the other Hunters will begin reconsidering their unwed statuses so they may finally begin to increase their numbers once more.
Paz fidgets with his cup for a moment, breaking her from her reverie.
Now, she must satisfy her curiosity.
“Who has caught your attention?” the Armorer asks, keeping her tone casual and light, even as her thoughts whirl with plans for the feast and bonfire celebration.
Her thoughts then leap to naming ceremonies, but she restrains herself. They will need time to settle in as a married couple before producing or finding children.
“I want Shu’shika."
Armorer blinks in response.
“Shu’shika has caught your attention,” she confirms, carefully keeping her voice neutral, to give herself time to think of an appropriate response.
“Yes. How do we go about this courtship business, then?"
How unorthodox. Yet, as she considers it, she can see why he wants you. Paz has always appreciated the company of those who put the Tribe before themselves, and you are no exception. If a hunter or child has need, you will forego sleep to ensure they are properly cared for. Nothing will keep you from caring for those around you. Your dedication and loyalty to the Tribe will never be contested. With extra training, Armorer can see you shaping up into a halfway decent warrior in time.
“What exactly do you wish to know, Paz?” she asks curiously.
“How?”
Armorer blinks, though he cannot see it. She had not been ambiguous.
“What do you mean how?”
“How do I convince her to agree to courtship?” he clarifies, giving her what she interprets as an expectant look.
A furrow forms between her brows as she stares at her companion. Based on the rampant, unbridled scuttlebutt, there is no shortage of available and willing partners for a hunter of his stature and skill. She herself had once harbored an attraction to him, though that had been roughly two decades ago when she was just a feral, hormone-riddled teenager with far more free time than common sense.
“Most people start by asking their interest out on a date,” Armorer says slowly.
“A date,” he repeats.
Armorer almost sighs. Perhaps she had overestimated Paz’s general intelligence level.
“A date is an activity wherein two individuals assess their mutual compatibility and – “
“Armorer, I know what a date is. What does that even have to do with courtship?”
"Courtship is dating, Paz, but with the intent to marry, and no carnal relations."
"Oh. That makes sense. And how do I get her to agree to this?"
“How do you normally secure your partners?” she asks bluntly.
Paz recoils ever so slightly.
“I have only had a handful of one-time arrangements…since…”
Well. That is unexpected.
“Paz, you must simply ask,” she responds. “You are one of our best hunters. There are many who are interested in having you as a partner. I am certain she will be flattered by your request.”
“…but how? I haven’t asked anyone out on a date in eighteen years,” Paz says. “I honestly don’t know what people do on dates nowadays.”
“Just ask her to accompany you on an outing,” she responds.
“So, like…shooting? Do people even still go shooting on the first date?”
“Just pick something you know she enjoys,” Armorer says, faintly annoyed.
“Alright, I can do that,” he says. “One more question, Armorer.”
“What is it?” she asks.
Despite her affection for the older man, she is unable to keep the annoyance out of her body language. Maybe the age-old Mandalorian saying still holds true today: three braincells for the entire Tribe and the Alor holds two of them for safekeeping. However, Alor Dezha is a Hunter down to the marrow in his bones...perhaps it would be best to leave the braincells in the possession of a Tradesperson, where they won't risk being eaten.
“You’re a woman, aren't you? So, tell me: what do you ladies like on dates?”
She is so offended and incredulous that she splutters indignantly at him. As she struggles to come up with a proper retort, she becomes aware of his shoulders shaking.
She tightens her jaw. He always has been able to get under her plating to chafe at her like no one else. If anyone else had grown the balls to ask her something like that, she would not have hesitated to put her hammer through their skull.
“Paz, get the hell out of my room.”
He erupts into boisterous guffaws as he thumps his fist onto the table.
“Would you want chocolates? Flowers? The severed heads of your enemies?” he gets out through his giggles.
“I will goor your ass into the Forge,” she says in amusement, reaching for her hammer in warning.
Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he gets up to leave, and hightails it away before she can make good on her threat.
Armorer smiles under her bucket.
She hasn’t heard him laugh like that in a long time.
He will be just fine.
-
-
-
Paz paces nervously around the table for the fifth time, pausing to try and flatten the curling plastic tile underfoot. When that fails, he continues on his path around the table. Paz stops when the door opens. Din strides in, closes the squeaky door behind him, and takes a seat. The chair groans under his weight as he leans back.
“So, what’s got your bucket straps chafing?” he asks.
Paz immediately regrets asking for help. Especially from Din. But, being his brother through both vow and combat, Paz trusts no one else as much as he trusts Din.
“I need some advice,” Paz says carefully.
“What sort of advice?” Din asks, his helmet tilting a bit to the right.
“I want you to swear you won’t tell anyone,” he says firmly.
No one needs to know about his lack of experience.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Din says.
“Swear it,” Paz stresses flatly.
“Alright, alright,” Din says.
“On my honor, I swear I won’t tell anyone about anything we’re about to discuss.”
Paz takes a deep breath as he struggles to come up with the words needed to explain his unique situation. How the fuck is he supposed to even ask about this?
Has Din ever even been on a date before?
Gods above, he is too old for this shit.
“Does this have anything to do with those problems men your age typically get?” Din asks suddenly, breaking the silence. “You know, below the codpiece?”
He gestures down toward his crotch, as if his words were not mortifying enough.
“What?” Paz asks incredulously.
Din holds both hands up as if trying to defend himself.
“Look, Paz, every rifle malfunctions eventually,” Din says in what he might think is a comforting tone. “Especially when a man starts to get into his forties and fifties – “
“No, stop. My di - that part of me is just fine,” Paz snaps in annoyance. “I’m not that old, you little shit.”
“Oh. Okay,” Din says. “So, what is it? You’ve been acting really strangely for the past few weeks.”
Their buir did not raise either of them to be a hut’uun. He can do this, get those words out. He is a grown-ass man and he can be direct. Fuck delicacy. That kind of bantha-shit doesn’t work for Mandalorians, anyway.
“There’s a woman I’ve taken an interest in,” Paz says. “I’d like to give her a proper courtship. I was wondering if you had any input on where I could take her on a date.”
Din doesn’t react. For a moment, Paz wonders if Din even heard him. As the seconds tick by, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights overhead seems to grow louder. Then he hears a choked wheeze from his modulator, one that sounds like someone is strangling a de’kath bird with piano wire. Din’s shoulders shake violently as he starts to howl with laughter.
“You’re – you’re coming to me for advice on dating?” he gasps out, “Me? Din Dumbass Djarin?”
Paz falters at the mention of Cara’s affectionate nickname for Din. He shrugs once in response. Then he sinks down onto the table and crosses his arms.
“Yeah. Half a braincell is better than none, right?”
Din goes silent for several seconds.
“Holy fuck, you’re serious,” Din whispers. “Paz, I can barely keep my shit together. What makes you think I, of all people, would know anything about dating?”
“I haven’t been on a proper date in eighteen years,” Paz says dryly to Din. “I don’t know how this shit works anymore.”
A pregnant silence follows.
“Din, I’m over Zeli. I’ve been over her bantha-shit for a few years now,” Paz says. “I am ready to try something long-term again.”
“Fuck,” Din breathes. “We’ve all been wondering…if you’d…you know.”
“Stop wallowing in my self-pity and move on with my life?” Paz asks sardonically. “The past few years…I have been working on improving myself. Figuring out how to best honor the Resol’nare...All the stuff we were supposed to figure out years ago.”
“Paz, I’m happy to hear that,” Din says. “I’m glad you’re going to be you again.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paz says, waving off Din’s comment. Shit, this is getting too emotional for him. “Whatever.”
Din snorts.
“Anyway. As for dating…I mean, there are better people to ask. I really could not help you with the dating thing.”
“Surely you’ve had a partner,” Paz says. “I’ve heard rumors about you and Cara.”
“Cara wants the simple things in life: good beer and to regularly beat someone's ass,” Din says. “I just so happen to be good at both finding good beer and getting my ass beat. When I asked her out, she almost pissed herself laughing at me.”
“Well, she said yes, which is more success than I’ve had,” Paz says. “I don’t know shit about this. The only people who care about courtship are the Elders.”
“And you now, apparently,” Din argues back.
He does have a point.
“Well…she means a lot to me. She isn’t a temporary arrangement,” Paz says carefully. “I’d like to do this the right way for her. So she knows I’m serious. And that I'm not just after...sex.”
Din inhales deeply, tapping his fingers on the table as he stares at the wall.
“Well, buir once told us that women like providers. So, go find a really big marsh deer, kill it, dress it, and bring everything back to her,” Din says, shrugging his shoulders. “Women like meat and leather, right?”
His tone is as uncertain as the way Paz feels about presenting you with a dead animal. They stay silent for several seconds.
“I’m fairly certain buir was joking when he told us that,” Paz says slowly.
“Huh,” Din says. “You know, now that it’s been said out loud…it does sound kind of ridiculous. Shit.”
They stay quiet for several moments, considering how truly fucked they both are when it comes to relationships. They’ve both had the occasional pleasure arrangement. And pleasure arrangements only require interest and about ten minutes. After his dumpster fire of a relationship with Zeli went down in a fiery, messy explosion, Paz never really considered settling down for marriage.
Why is this so damn difficult?
Din sighs, breaking him from his reverie, and tilts his helmet in his direction. It’s a sort of acknowledgement, an understanding that they are both committed to figuring this courtship business out together. Paz supposes that Din’s going to have to learn a few things, too, if he's somehow going to convince Cara to stick around with him for more than a few months. At the very least, Paz is grateful that Din picked someone smarter than himself. At least their children will have one intelligent parent.
“So. Who is it that has you acting all emotional, all ready to get domesticated?” Din asks, waving his hand around a bit.
“Shu’shika,” Paz says. “She’s…she’s the one I’m interested in.”
Din’s head snaps up so hard and fast that Paz hears his vertebrae crack from here.
“What?” Din asks. “Shu’shika?”
“What the fuck is with that tone, Din?” Paz snaps irritably. “If you’re going to insult her – “
“What? No, no,” Din says. “I’m not insulting her, no way. She doesn’t seem like your type, Paz. She’s…uh…not the most athletically gifted. Or the best at...hand-to-hand combat.”
That is the most diplomatic tone he has ever heard from Din and it pisses him the hell off. Paz does not like the idea of someone insulting you.
“She’s perfect the way she is,” Paz says flatly.
Din holds his hands up in surrender.
“I’m not judging your taste in women,” Din says mildly. “I was just…uh…surprised. I thought you’d go for someone like Nayel, or maybe even Revala.”
“They aren’t Shu’shika,” Paz says, shrugging.
Nayel and Revala are both warriors and hunters, the two of them direct competitors for their age and skill group. Nayel has even made a few passes at him, but her hand against his doesn’t send that little bolt of tingling pleasure radiating up along his spine. She always wants to fight with him. While he appreciates having good sparring partners, he sometimes wants something quieter.
“Well, we are both shit at this,” Din says. “So, we treat this like any other battle to be fought and won. What intel do you have for me?”
Paz starts to list the data, growing more comfortable as he settles into the comforting routine of what he does know how to do. Win a fight. Then again, he isn’t sure if he should be looking at courtship like it’s a battle to be won.
-
-
-
Notes:
Alor'ad - Captain
Vod - comrade, mate, brother - different contexts based on the people involved
Gaa'tayl - help
Aruetiise - outsiders, traitors. When used to refer to an outsider, it's not an insult. It's just a state of being. When used to refer to a Mandalorian, it's an insult.
Uj'ayali - Mandalorian cake made from ground nuts, fruit, spices. Delicious.
"Ni copaani hailir gar. Gedet'ye, cyare." - "I want to fill you. Please, my love."
Cyare - beloved
Dar'buir - "Divorce" from a parent, like disowning them. Rare, usually only done if the parent is a shithead.
Starbird - Star Wars creature that is basically a phoenix. It's supposedly reborn in the heart of a star, etc.
Manda - Soul, that which makes someone Mandalorian
hut'uun - coward, an egregious insult
Aliit maan bal solus kyr’yc. - Family first and the individual second - randomly made this saying up.
Mandokar - the virtues of the ideal Mandalorian - aggressiveness, tenacity, loyalty, and a lust for life.
Riduurok - love bond between two spouses, marriage
Resol'nare - The six tenets by which all Mandalorians abide. Short version: "Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language and our leader all help us survive."
Alor - leader
Goor - Goore --> Grenade --> You toss a grenade --> Therefore goor is the Mando equivalent of yeet. Humor from Tumblr.
De'kath bird - An animal I made up a long time ago for another story. The bird sounds like a raven, a tuba, and a paper shredder all got together and made an ugly, horrifying baby.
Marsh deer - An animal I made up a long time ago for another story. A marsh deer is about twice as tall as a giraffe and has huge antlers that can cause serious damage if they ram someone. They are generally herbivorous, but when they are in the middle of rutting season, they become opportunistic carnivores. They also dislike humans and will attack unprovoked. Also, they make for good eating and hunting. OYA!
Shu'shika - Nickname I made up using shu'shuk (disaster) and -ika (diminutive), means Tiny Disaster. Because Reader is a tiny disaster.
#tv: the mandalorian#the mandalorian#A Proper Mandalorian Courtship#din djarin#paz vizsla#paz vizla#the armorer#paz vizsla x f!reader#paz vizla x reader#paz vizla x you#family relationships#din djarin x cara dune#original characters#angst#heavy angst#no use of y/n#star wars#paz vizla x f!reader#series: a proper mandalorian courtship
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