MM Goodness - Oneshots
The man's eyes welcomed him, but Andrew knew as surely as the hostler did that any interaction between them, no matter how innocent, would cost Andrew his reputation and that hostler his job and perhaps his life. And Andrew couldn't be innocent; two years ago he'd discovered that much and now the two never spoke a single word to each other as the horse passed between them.
He couldn't live like his uncle who hid his nature behind a glass of gin and a mysterious smile. They would see how twisted he was. How much they had warped him. How far he was for being alive.
— Mine, or Nine-tenths of the Law
Danson refuses to believe that dark and scrawny Justin is his brother, no matter what anyone says. Hey kid, where'd you just put your hand?
Justin's body reacted, but not in good way. Danson wanted those eyes to be full of pleasure again. "You're mine! Your body is mine!" He leaned over Justin, his words quieter, but no less forceful as he dragged his hands up Justin's body. "Your legs are mine, your hips are mine. Your chest is mine. Your mouth is mine."
Colin can't let the chief think that he wants the man's wife. But the only way to dissuade him is for Colin to flirt with that really tall Lochlanach. What if Arnvid takes him seriously? He'd have to follow through.
"If he didn't allow Arnvid to kiss him, to touch him, to… if that's what the giant wanted, then Colin would be worse off than he was now. The old man, at least, thought Colin was drawn to Arnvid. If Colin couldn't respond to a man he was drawn to then he couldn't respond to any man and he would lose his head. Or be forced to battle the chief, which would end the same way, but would take longer with more pain.
Colin hated pain."
— Of Fathers and Fertility Gods
Father Haisley worked hard to find just the right spell to call just the right Being to bring the once fertile valley back to life, but why had the Being referred to young Malachi as one of the virgins?
On the day Father Haisley brought his flock to this valley fifteen years ago, the fields were green with wild grass and this hill was covered in red, blue, and yellow flowers. And that night Mother Haisley gave birth to Malachi, the first perfect thing that worthless woman ever did. She died the next morning and after she was buried, the valley stopped blooming. She polluted this sacred ground with her foul blood.
— A Means to an End
Hugh has to convince young Phillip not to marry that noblewoman and put himself in contention for the throne. Phillip knows that seducing Hugh will help him keep his head, but he mustn't let on.
Phillip ran into the manor and Hugh went inside, followed by the others. At the stairs Hugh met the lad, color on his cheeks heightening his pale face. Phillip stopped a yard away, his breath fast and shallow, and raised his hand. Hugh stepped closer, until the gentle fingers rested on his cheek. "I missed you, lad."
The lad's color deepened and he looked down, then up through his golden lashes. "And I you."
— What You Did Last Night
Jordan has ever right to hate Tim after what he did. He should hate him. He needs to hate him. Tim hates himself. But that won't keep him from doing it again if Jordan wants him to.
Tim wiped the foggy mirror and took a good look. He didn't look that different. He didn't look as different as he should. His eyes should be black as a demon's. He wiped the mirror again and turned on the fan. No horns grew under his unruly hair, his tongue wasn't forked, he had no tail. His eyes were the same blue, his hair the same dirty blond, his skin the same not quite tan, his ears still rounded.
— The Prince and the Sorcerer
If the most powerful sorcerer in the land was after you and the only way to convince him not to kill you was physical persuasion, could you do what it takes to save your life and his soul? Prince Esteve must because if not for his birth, Ignasi would never have cause to go bad.
Esteve relaxed; he couldn't let Ignasi know his fear. He fought to recall his brief glances of his handsome cousin and the too few times the older boy had caught his eye and smiled. Esteve was only five when Ignasi was driven out. Ignasi was seventeen. After that Ignasi learned how to twist magic to perform dark spells. But before, before Ignasi left, he would walk tall and proud though the castle corridors. One of Esteve's nurses would often take Esteve for walks where they passed Ignasi. Sometimes Ignasi would rub Esteve's head. Esteve treasured every smile, every pat.
— Anyone but Him
Lachlan's wife slept around. Now his daughter might be following in her footsteps, but why does it have to be with Aidan?
"Please, is it?" Lachlan growled, taking a fist full of Aidan's dark hair. "Where was the please before? Where was the please may I walk with your daughter? Where was the please may I visit her? Where was the please may I marry her?"
— The Knight of the Great Wizard
The kingdom of Tierney needs a Great Wizard to protect it from its greedy neighbors. Evander is the Knight sent to seduce the Great Wizard Keir because it was his fault Keir left in the first place.
Keir's face went blank before an entirely different kind of smile appeared. He took a deep breath. "I was going to say that your words to you wife were pretty. If you spoke to me half so well, I could find all sorts of reasons to stick around, but I guess I needn't say it."
I want him so badly and he acts like he wants me too, but something that wonderful could never happen to me.
I turn slowly as Dirk shuts the door and locks it. His dark eyes burn and my stomach falls to my feet. My hands are numb. His scent sweeps over me in a wave. I shiver. He wraps his jacket around my shoulders. It smells more like me than him after two months under my pillow. "When," he asks, "were you going to tell me?"
— Feeding the Dragon
Tivadar was treated well in the village where he was fostered. And Tivadar, who had always been so weak and fragile, was stronger and healthier than ever. He ate well and dressed well and hardest day's work he had was officiating at ceremonies with his foster father, the mayor. Tivadar thought he had it made, until he woke up tied to a rock.
Tivadar was cold. Where were his blankets? He was always allowed to sleep in. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes, but found himself unable to move. His hands were tied just above his head to each edge of the stone slab he laid upon, his elbows even with his shoulders. His hair was spread across his arms and down his chest and all he did was pull it when he clinched his fists. He couldn't move an inch. His feet were pulled up and tied just below his hips, again at the edges of the slab, so he could almost bring his knees together. The nightshirt covered his knees, but didn't quite touch his feet. A gust of early morning wind blasted his privates. He shivered.
— Mage Partner
As a magic holder and not a mage, Gyorgy can't use any of his power to save himself and those he cares for. But when rescue comes he finds more than he sought.
Men tumbled to the doorway and quickly closed the door behind them. Is this what the monsters looked like, men? This was worse than anything Gyorgy had yet imagined. If monster looked like men then how could one tell them apart? How would he ever feel safe again? But he wouldn't have a chance to worry about that. He was about to die.
— Body Language
Liam is an Irish prison of war held as an indentured servant to his enemy, the English. But the Irish aren't the only ones cutting sugar cane under the hot Barbados sun.
Did a smile where John was from mean the same thing that it had in Liam's beloved homeland? Liam turned away. He didn't want to draw the overseer's attention back to John by staring too long at his rippling muscles or beautiful darkness. John was beautiful in a way quite different from the beauty Liam had been raised to admire. Not an Irish rose, but a twilight, a relief from the relentless sun that baked Liam's very soul.
— Mage Partner 2
Gyorgy knows he's in danger when he is abducted from a Bazaar in broad daylight, but he doesn't realize just how much.
A group of men ran by. They were wearing white, the first clothes of that color Gyorgy had seen in this city, but the bands around their right upper arms were the color of Mahyar's eyes. Were these men after him? Why else would they be running? Were those swords they carried to force Gyorgy to do their will? He must never be caught. Eligius said that magic holders like Gyorgy were worth a lot and might be held against their wills or even sold to other mages. That was not going to happen to Gyorgy.
Stories in editing:
— The Smallest Prison of all
I wake inside a cage of a body that refuses to respond. My caretaker calls me by a name that I know isn't mine. He looks like he needs more care than I do.
I can't let him leave. If he gets up, will he come back? This body is a prison, the smallest prison of all. He pulls away as if my arms are paper. My greatest efforts are worthless. Tears leak from my eyes and a sob leaves my chest. The man comes back, the light still off, and kisses my tears away. He cuddles close holding me against his chest. He must be huge. Or maybe I'm small. What is wrong with my body? My arms against my chest are scrawny.
He reaches over and takes my hand. "I pretend we are here because we want to be away from everyone, because we want to be together. You are the strong, silent type and I can go to you and you always help me. I pretend you love me."
This page will be updated as I add more stories.