Braveheart (Also: Never confuse a Scot for an Irish)
Time flew by in those four walls. All because of the company Francis kept. Penny served well as a professional cockblocker, but that didn’t stop him from teasing and flirting his way through five hours only to break for lunch. He wondered why Plank bothered to bring him back after, knowing the headache he would continue to amplify, but he’ll give her that: She was devoted to her job.
The final hour rolled in. The room was alive with laughter and cheer, left to fizzle away into whines and moans as Penny once more pulled him out of the wall and lead him to her car. Desiree followed, her eyes gleaming, begging for him, ignited with such fire as Penny slammed the door between her and Francis. The lamia wasn’t so desperate to be set on fire, though, so she backed well off and left the two alone to venture on home. At last. Plank’s right eye twitched something fierce, the car hiccuping and sparking as they made their way down the half mile to the apartment parking lot. It... almost made it; it stalled out right in the middle of the other lane, leading to more laughter. At least, from Francis. Made even louder as Plank cursed up a storm, slamming the wheel and sending fire flying outside her window –melted away.
“You know,” Francis said, drawling it out, fighting back his laughter as best he could- losing as her head slowly turned to him. “You didn’t have to stop them.”
She blinked. Twice. Thrice. Four times... and punched him in the face.
“Dumbass,” she grumbled, and the car turned over. All it took was one bruised and bloody hand. The blue flames lapped at those busted digits, shaking as they gripped the steering wheel –from what more, though, was the question. Anger at him, frustration and irritation from the honking masses, the annoyances of the ladies all day; she had a well-balanced diet of salt. “Sure. Yeah. I’ll just let the lamia eat you next time. That’ll look amazing for Eve, that I neglected my duties to keep you safe.”
“Please. She couldn’t take all of me. She looked tight Ae-Eff.”
“Not what I meant... You do know that lamia are literal maneaters, right?”
“Yes I do, Sherlock. I knew what she was capable of.”
“And... you kept egging her on? And the wolf pack?”
“... Yeah. Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t you met me?”
“I have, which is why I thought you had some semblance of self-preservation in you-”
“Then you really don’t know me... Besides, that was the most fun I had at that school.”
“Yes, well, maybe you shouldn’t flirt with everything with a v-”
“Oh, wow. I hit on eight girls out of a 50,000-plus Academy. I have literally flirted with everyone-”
“Let me rephrase: you SHOULD be more CAREFUL with whom you flirt... The wolf pack isn’t so bad; they are more bark than bite. Literally. Cassidy was a first-timer. In fact, I wouldn’t ever think to see her there. Desiree makes no sense, either. Lil is looking into it, but I told her the story she told you. If that was true, then Lily is going to be in that room for a long, long time.” She groaned, slamming her head on the horn. “I thought Sam had her under control...”
“Another teacher. An actual bitch.”
“Don’t you mean witch?”
“That’s what I said... I hate all four of them.” She sniffed and picked her head up off the wheel –literally. She needed to lift her head off with her left hand, looking at him again as she gripped at that pixie cut. “Meanwhile, there’s Ali... I don’t think I need to remind you, but-”
“But what? They’re crazy? Can’t be any crazier than driders.”
“No no. You’re right. Driders are the craziest of them all... but pixies are just as bad in most cases... Don’t give them hope, Francis. Don’t give them even the slightest inkling; they will make your life Hell.”
“Thanks, dad, but I think I know not to stick my dick in crazy... for more than five minutes.”
“I’m not joking!” She let her head go, and it thumped on the top of the wheel, huffing with her dour chuckles. “Why did I get stuck with you?”
“Yet you were the one rushing to school-”
“Like I knew I would be in charge of detention!”
“You didn’t? Don’t they normally tell you ahead of time?”
“Usually, but today was an exception. Patricia called in sick today, said she had an ‘ill omen’, and I was told all this by none other than MY sub for the day. Because, you know, that makes sense! Sub a class when that teacher is there to oversee it but not the detention area.”
“Who decided it?”
“Lilith... I swear she’s psychic.”
“Psycho? Yeah.” He slapped his legs, and opened the door. “Well, it’s been fun hanging out with you all day, but, unless you plan to warm my sheets, I’m tired of seeing your face.”
“I’ve been tired of yours since the first day you arrived... by the way, have you met the witches yet?”
“I don’t think I have, no.”
“Good. You’re better off. They are all bitches. Every single one.”
“If you are saying that... then I can’t wait to meet them.”
She growled, rolled her eyes, but was forgotten as Francis shut the door, leaving her there. He was in a good mood; nothing could tear him down. His feet seemed to fly up the steps –which he could have truly felt if he just leaped to the walkway but he needed cardio. It was being neglected too much, so he every step took nine of his before ascending to the next. Other students hurried by him along the way, but there were two he didn’t see during. A certain, scorpion-cat... and a centaur.
But he made it to his room, drenched in sweat but smiling.
Not smiling as he opened the door. Remembering.
“Ah shit,” he uttered, and looked down, seeing Nicole in the entry before him. She was smiling, and, if he had to guess, her other lips were, too. Thankfully, most of her was hidden behind a thin, red, strapless dress, complemented with white stockings and black heels. “I thought you weren’t due in until tonight.”
“Ahf course not, laddie,” she said, and jumped up. His hands crossed before him, though it was unneeded as her heels dug into his back, holding her just above his pecks. At eye-level with him. She kissed him, tousled his hair, giggling. “Ah am only here for the day, so might as well make the most of it. Now, ye got away with it last weekend, but ye shan’t escape me now. Onward. Into the kitchen!”
He groaned, fighting not to yawn nor to let his hands squeeze that rump in his hands. It was bad enough he could smell just how bad she wanted him, and the way she bounced as he lumbered into the kitchen only wafted and concentrated it more. Her cheeks blossomed with each of the four steps, burning almost crimson by the last. She found it hard to let him go, even as her legs shook. As he fought not to shake himself; that’s what he needed right now, to be a gargantuan vibrator. It was bad enough she only saw him as her personal sex toy, he didn’t need to add more features.
Nicole clambered off, though, holding his legs, panting on his crotch as she fought to stay standing. She always knew where to pant exactly, even in the baggiest of pants. Today it was made easy with how much he flirted and teased with the other girls. He literally had a beacon for her, a rail for her to steady herself on, gliding along.
She chuckled, a throaty thing, and pulled his pants down a touch, letting it spring out.
“Oh dear. You’ve been holding it in again,” she said, cooing as she stroked a dollop out. She twisted and teased that rod, licking her lips as she watched that single drop spool down, like a spider’s thread, making its way right in between her chest. Only for a fresh dollop to appear. “Ye still haven’t found a wench to drain ye snake when ahm not here?”
“Not from lack of trying. I a...assure you,” he said, clinging to the counter behind him, fighting to keep his breathing even. “Penny has been doing a wonderful job of RUINING th...that.”
“Ah, she’s just weeding out the weak. Ye don’t need anyone like that. Somebody who can put up wit ye, someone who can match ye blow fer blow if not mo; ye need a right boot to be yer wifey.”
“I’m not LOOKING for a w...wi...”
“This is why ye need a proper wench, laddie. You became like puddy in my hands from just a slight chug.” She gave the tip a lick, clearing it of its most recent thread, and giggled as it leaped in her hand. “Ah was going to teach ye to cook, but we can’t have ye in this state. It would be in one ear and out the other.”
Nicole cleared her throat, and rolled her up dress a touch, revealing the hem of her stockings. She tore them open, and showed she wasn’t wearing any panties. Once more she leaped, but this time her goal was lower, her legs wrapping around the small of his back... while her lower lips breathed such fire onto his mast.
“This’ll be a quickie, though,” she stated, and gasped as she reached down and put it inside her. “We’ll be going at it harder later, but we need to clear that mind of mine.”
Francis didn’t bother to correct her, already lost to the pleasure. She knew what she said, anyways. He scuttled over to the table and managed to sit before his legs fully gave out, feeling those folds constrict and swallow his member inside her. Which he only made it worse sitting; now she could move, without fear of falling. The poor wooden seat creaked so much as she rode him, plunging his sword into her lake again and again. Her dress rolled down from her breasts, letting their purple tips glisten and dig into his middle, carving away into those ugly pecs.
She whimpered, giggled, moaned and cried out as she plunged onto him, making his orbs ache with each sundering. Francis clawed at her ass, watching through her chest how he bulged out her middle yet it seemed he could never reach a true end- he cried out, seeing her bite his nipple. How she ravaged it- before jumping to the other, bounding away as she continued to ride.
Her folds squeezed all of a sudden, and she brought blood from his bright red tip as she squealed, smiling as she bit down on his right nip. She shoved against his chest, pushing him back onto the other chair, her teeth still locked on his poor tip, even as her holds released him. She started thrusting again, licking him clean, and his hands quivered on her rump, still clawing at it. But not to push her down.
“This’d be a fine time to be a premie,” she panted out, tittering. “Ye ain’t proving anything to no one right now. Go on and fill meh hole. Today’s safe, ah assure you. Go ahead and dump a thick one in me, l- there ye go. Let it all g...go-ah!”
She cried out, and her folds clamped down again, drinking in his seed. It was as if it was gulping him, as if it were swallowing him; he would never get tired of that feeling. So addicting... so scary. How could something so right be so wrong?
At last, her folds let him go, and she rose off him. He watched her, saw how his poor member flopped out and onto himself, spooling its last drop. She licked it off then pulled up his pants, having him stand.
“Right. Now that we got that easy one out ye, let’s teach some simple recipes,” she began. “How’s about a bit of mac and cheese? It’s always a crowd-pleaser and far cheaper without the box shite.”
At that point, any food sounded good to Francis. He helped her grate the cheese (which, wouldn’t you know, the fairies were more than happy to instantly reply to her), as well as boil the macaroni noodle. It was easy; so easy, in fact, he felt like he was losing brain cells. But then she threw in the curve ball: cooking it in the oven. For that, she needed more cheese grated for after it was done, which meant they had no choice but to sit down... and talk. Just... talk.
“So how’s school treating ye,” she asked. “Hopefully not too rough.”
“The occasional Fang beat-down. Other than that? Boring as piss. But that’s just school in general.”
“That’s not true. Ah remember going; it was only boring when I understood more than the teacher. Maybe we should discuss with Eve to make it harder for-”
“No! Hell no.”
“But if ye are bored-”
“Then I would prefer to be bored. I’d rather just coast than try to ram my head against the wall.”
She tittered, rubbing his arm. “But we both know that ain’t true-”
“In school, yes. When fucking, no.”
“Ah think yer lying to yerself. Ye probly think ye can’t.”
“Yes, well, don’t tell Eve.”
“Then ye best be ready to dog it out of me head, or do ye think you cannae do that?” The cooking timer went off, and she hopped out of his lap. She fixed her dress before they began cooking, but the tips of her breasts still dug so hard into the red fabric, creating two, black dots. The oven creaked open, and she pulled out the casserole dish filled with the cheesy goodness, its savory aroma enveloping them-
There was a knock at the door.
“Now who can that be?” Nicole said, adding the last of the cheese on top of the meal. Francis, meanwhile, headed for the door... a bit hunkered over. He opened it-
Jessica barged in, snuffing the air, trilling as she eased passed Francis and into the kitchen. Francis looked down a moment; he had to make sure her feet were still on the ground, as if she was reeled in by the meal.
“Food,” she mumbled, licking her lips... and finally opened her eyes. Looking down at the goblin. “Eh? Who are you?”
“I could be asking ye the same question,” the goblin said, nodding to Francis. “Ye a friend of the wee barra?”
“Of who? What?” She looked behind, and gasped. “Oh. Francis. I didn’t realize this was your place.”
“How could you not?” He said.
She growled, her tail fidgeting. “Well, I was on my way to bed for a few hours, but then I smelled something... amazing... Of course, I should have known it was you. You’re the only one I know that can cook. My stomach wasn’t happy with the last meal, but I think that was because it had been so long since I had a home-cooked meal.”
Or the meat was a year out of date, he thought... but his heart sunk as Nicole tittered.
“The wee barra cooked you somethin, eh? He must have gave ye food poison. I’m only teaching him now to cook.”
“I know how to cook somethings, thank you,” Francis said. “I worked with what I had.”
“Jus like we did now... So what’s yer name, lassie?”
“It’s Jessica,” the manticore said. “And who are you? Francis’ girlfriend?”
Nicole barked a laugh. “He wishes he could have a lass like me, but no. I’m but his housekeeper, his nan. Every so often ah break him in, though. Wouldn’t want some poor lass to get their hooks in only to realize he’s a dead fish. Besides, ah still need to take a birl, too.”
“Where are you from? That’s a very strong accent... Are you Irish?”
Run. Run like Hell. Now! Francis thought, his eyes wide. His mouth wouldn’t move, though. His body could barely even allow him to breathe, watching the goblin. Her once cool demeanor was shattered, gone to the fury of the Scotsman in her. She wheeled towards the manticore, her eyes filled with such... fire.
“How dare ye even think that!” The goblin shrieked. “To think ah’d even be compared to them knobs. Next ye would compare me to the Welsh o the bloody Saxons o them clarty bastarts the Russian. Ah’d sooner cowk than to hear ’nother moment haver. By mah chebs, ah’d chib ye right now ye dangleberry! Get out of mah sight right this instant.”
“I didn’t mean to offend, if I did... I think,” Jessica said. “If you’re not Irish, then Scottish?”
“Aye! Ahm Scottish, ya dobber. Ye think Eve would even give those Fogeys a moment of time? No! It’s why she trusted me with the wee barra! It’s no wonder if he’s still single if ye are the cream of the croop.”
“I’m just here for some mac and cheese. Once I get that, I’ll be out of your ha-”
“No. Ye git out now. No food for yoo.” She pulled a knife out of the block, and screamed, charging the manticore. It was only a butcher knife, little shorter than Francis’s arm, but, in her arms, it looked like a claymore, a zweihander. And, most likely, in Jessica’s eyes as well. She yowled, screamed even louder than Nicole, and ran out of the apartment. But Nicole gave chase, and didn’t relent until the manticore slammed the door shut to her apartment. The goblin returned, heaved a sigh, and put the knife away before pulling out a ladle. She prepared to bowls of the cheesy goodness and wedged one into Francis’s hands... still... simply... watching. Nicole tittered, and smacked his ass, making him yelp. “Ah! Ah I can see why ye ain’t in anae rush. Plenty of hoores around with more legs than sense. Don’t worry, though. The right woman will appear.”
“Yeah,” he uttered, defeated, and lumbered back to the table. He wanted to only pick at the meal, to take his time, but he was so hungry... and it was so good... but he knew what came after he finished eating. Which would lead him to get another bowl... it was going to be a horrid cycle. Run. Run like Hell. Now! He kept repeating it... and yet his body wouldn’t listen.