First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which Amrit Breaks Bones
This is another commission from @Momerath@wandering.shop for another chapter of Beekeeper.
This chapter involves more violence, blood, and Theron being an asshole.
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which Mieve Faces Old Memories.
Please note: there are two chapters after “in which they stop kissing…” which have been deprecated. This re-write begins from Amrit and Mieve ending up in bed.
This is another commission from @Momerath@wandering.shop for another chapter of Beekeeper. Thank you so much to Momerath for your patience once again!
This chapter involves more violence and a couple brief descriptions of wounds.
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which Amrit Takes a Run.
Please note: there are two chapters after “in which they stop kissing…” which have been deprecated. This re-write begins from Amrit and Mieve ending up in bed.
This is another commission from @Momerath@wandering.shop for another chapter of Beekeeper, (there’s one more of about the same length coming, too). Thank you so much to Momerath for your patience!
This story is a follow-up to the sixth one to my Squish-Squash, Pumpkins and Gourds Prompt Call.
This story is Fae Apoc, BeeKeeper – it is set before the Beekeeper series. The unnamed guy in this story is Amrit, and Roger is the sausage vendor.
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There were often strangers at their market.
That was why they’d set it up where they had – the highway might not be quite the hub of traffic it once had, but it was still a broad, easy way for people to move, and they still used it (once Roger and the others had cleared out enough cars to make 2 lanes passible again). Continue reading
This story is the sixth one to my Squish-Squash, Pumpkins and Gourds Prompt Call.
This story is Fae Apoc, BeeKeeper – it is set before the Beekeeper series. Sorry Momerath, I was being a bit of a brat (I prefer not to write continuations of extant long series as part of a prompt call. 🙂 )
What you need to know about the setting/story: Mieve is a hermit who can talk to/control insects; the apocalypse is rather recent; most trade right now is in barter.
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She hadn’t left the clearing in almost six months and, as she walked around the market, Mieve remembered why. Continue reading
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which They Go To Bed.
Please note: there are two chapters after “in which they stop kissing…” which have been deprecated. This re-write begins from Amrit and Mieve ending up in bed.
This is the actual commission: @Momerath@wandering.shop commissioned me to write another chapter of Beekeeper, (see the prequel to the commission linked above)
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which They Stop Kissing Long Enough to Talk.
Please note: there are two chapters after “in which they stop kissing…” which have been deprecated. This re-write begins from Amrit and Mieve ending up in bed.
This is a prequel to the commission, more or less: @Momerath@wandering.shop commissioned me to write another chapter of Beekeeper, and in order to do that, I needed to go back and fix the spot where I’d stalled.
Ahem.
Where I’d stalled Three Years Ago.
This chapter mentions sex and involves two people being naked and intimate but in a mainly fade-to-black way; there is no on-screen sex.
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which There are Second Thoughts – and Third.
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THIS CHAPTER IS NOW DEPRECATED AND IS NOT CANON.
In Which They Stop Kissing Long Enough to Talk is the last canon chapter before the rewrite begins.
See the rewrite beginning here – http://www.lynthornealder.com/2020/06/26/beekeeper-in-which-they-go-to-bed/
Her eyes were closed. He liked that; it let him watch her face. Her hands were on him like she was trying to pin him down – who was he kidding? She could pin him down without any hands at all – and her expression was somewhere else, somewhere reaching for bliss.
He brushed his lips against hers, then kissed her properly. He was on his back, and she was on top of him and…
He closed his eyes and stopped thinking for a while. She was moving above him and that was, for the moment, all that mattered.
When he opened his eyes, it was to kiss her again. Like this, he could feel the press of her collar against his neck. Her collar. Would it be so bad…?
Not the time to think about such things. He ran his hands up and down her back. He wondered, in a way he hadn’t for a while, what her Change was. He hadn’t Un-Masked for her; wouldn’t have if she had demanded it, might have if she’d asked it. She’d done neither, and her Mask was up, too. He kissed her collarbones, wondering.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she murmured. He grinned at her.
“Pennies, really? Those are pretty valuable now, all that copper.”
For a second, he thought he’d flustered her. Then she stroked his hair – gently, he couldn’t remember anyone being that gentle with him – and smiled.
“So’re your thoughts. Valuable, that is.”
He kissed her, his hand low enough down on her back that it wasn’t holding her and high enough up that she knew what he wanted. And for a while, he didn’t have any thoughts to give, for a penny or for a whole hive of honey.
🐝
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1282925.html. You can comment here or there.
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which They Stop Kissing Long Enough to Talk.
🐝
THIS CHAPTER IS NOW DEPRECATED AND IS NOT CANON.
In Which They Stop Kissing Long Enough to Talk is the last canon chapter before the rewrite begins.
See the rewrite beginning here – http://www.lynthornealder.com/2020/06/26/beekeeper-in-which-they-go-to-bed/
She lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. As far as she could tell, Amrit was still asleep. His breathing was even and he made little noises, sometimes, that did not quite sound like speech.
He was warm next to her. It was a petty concern, but she liked it. He was warm — and it was stupid, but she was coming to trust him.
Not stupid, she argued with herself. He’d made promises. Oaths. He hadn’t had to do that. And here they were…
Here they were, in bed together. Warm together, although it would be months before that was a real necessity.
She shouldn’t let herself get attached.
Too late.
She shouldn’t let herself trust him. He might be wearing a collar, still – he hadn’t said a word about that, and maybe he understood that it helped her relax – but he wasn’t Kept and he was far too fae to accept slavery without Keeping.
Too late.
She found herself thinking with his help, maybe I could sell some food at the market and not just honey, and wouldn’t it be nice to have fresh meat more often? and even hot baths. Hot water and what he’d said the night before,
If everyone could heat things up like I can, they wouldn’t need firewood.
He’d be useful. That was why she’d bought him, wasn’t it? Because she wanted someone useful around the place. Because she wanted someone to keep her company and it was hard to get a cat to do enough work to balance out their keep, and besides, cats weren’t great conversationalists.
He rolled over and looked at her, eyes still half-lidded with sleep. “You’re thinking very loudly,” he commented, his voice a soft rumble, like there was someone he didn’t want to wake up.
“Don’t tell me you’re a telepath, too.” She smiled a bit, even though he had no Keeping bond pressing on him to think that might be an order, no reason for her to need to soften it.
He smirked back at her. “Ha. No, it’s just something about your body language. Something’s saying ‘deep thoughts’. It’s kinda early in the morning for those, isn’t it?”
“Best time for ‘em,” she countered. “Before it’s light enough to get anything done, when it’s still a little chilly even most of the summer and I don’t feel like I have to start moving yet.”
“I suppose you have a point. Me, I never woke up before I had to until — well, I suppose even here I woke up when I had to.” He smirked and waved his far arm around demonstratively. “Nice to not be tied down. Nicer to be here with you.”
“Glad you approve.” She hesitated and then, because it was honest if not kind, “I’m glad you made the promises. I’m not sure how long it would have taken me to trust you, otherwise.”
“I’m not sure you would’ve. I’m not sure I would’ve trusted me,” he admitted. “I was pretty nasty when you brought me here.”
“You were pretty angry when I brought you here. You haven’t told me to fuck off in days.”
He smirked at her. “Well, I was pretty sure you’d gotten the point. So… I’ve still got almost three weeks on that set of promises. What do you want me to do with that time?”
“Oh, do I have to plan three weeks ahead?” She smiled lazily at him. “I was thinking more about the next ten minutes.”
His eyebrows lifted and he grinned widely at her. “You don’t say? Only ten minutes, though? I think I could fill at least the next hour.”
“I suppose the woodpile will still be there in an hour.”
“And the bees, and the garden. Yeah.” He leaned towards her to kiss her – and froze as he was suddenly half-over her.
Mieve froze as he did. Was he – no, he was frowning. She caught the back of his neck, above the collar (the collar, they’d have to talk about that sometime) and pulled him down. “You were saying?”
He grunted, startled, his lips barely an inch from hers. “I was saying that the chores would wait.”
“You know, I think you’re right.” She held on to the back of his neck and kissed him, long and hard and not at all scared.
He didn’t move when she released him, just stared at her for a moment. Then his tongue darted out and he licked his lips, letting a short laugh escape him. “You’re something else. And you know what? I like it.” He rolled onto his back and held his arms out for her. “Come here, boss. Chores can wait, right?”
She could kiss him for that. She should kiss him for that. Mieve straddled him and did just that, one hand on his shoulder and the other behind his neck.
He ought to be swearing at her and trying to get away. He ought to be worried, or nervous, or angry or…
No. He wasn’t the least bit submissive. She didn’t think he’d ever be. But he was under her, and he was moving under her and…
“Oh…oh.”
And for a while, she wasn’t worried at all.
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Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1282925.html
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1279201.html. You can comment here or there.
First: A beginning of a story which obnoxiously cuts off just before the description,
Previous: In Which The Kissing Continues.
🐝
He didn’t carry her to the bed, but not for lack of offering, trying, and offering again.
“I’m not a blushing bride,” she complained, “and, besides, I like my feet firmly on the ground.”
Amrit might’ve been – not exactly offended, but put out at how brusque she could be, considering where they’d been and what they’d been doing, but she kissed both his cheeks and then his lips, the affection clear in the gesture and her expression, and he gave in.
She liked him. Amrit didn’t know what to do with that. Sure, girls had liked him before, but not like – “You’ve really got no illusions about me, do you?”
“You like to work and like to keep busy but hate authority?” Something in her smile was challenging. It wasn’t made any less so by the casual touch of her hand on his chest. “You’re overprotective of people you care about but aren’t that familiar with the concept. You have a foul mouth and no tolerance for rules.”
“…I’m not a sweetheart.” He didn’t know what motivated him to say that. Some half-forgotten long-ago girl, perhaps?
Whatever his reasons, it made her smile. “I know. Are we going to bed or do I have to carry you?”
🐝
Next: http://www.lynthornealder.com/2020/06/26/beekeeper-in-which-they-go-to-bed/
🐝
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This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1267010.html. You can comment here or there.