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yeoldontknow · 4 years

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The Edge of Summer

Author’s Note: happy birthday @kyungseokie !! this has been sitting in my wips since january when i attempted to write this for his birthday. and that...came and went like a lightning bolt so here we are. im finally tossing this into the wild! wanted this up an entire hour ago but my internet died so T~T HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LUV U! Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader (oc; female) Universe: this is an installment to the Did You See universe however Kyungsoo does not have a full story. this will be the only story centering on him | you do not need to read the other stories to understand, enjoy, or appreciate this one Genre: friends to lovers; fluff; romance; angst; au Summary: As summer comes to a close, your friends make the annual trek to the lake house for one last hurrah. You’ve done this before - countless times, but this year Baekhyun brings his new girlfriend along with him and this, of course, means some plans have to change. You just have no idea how much will change by the end of the trip. Rating: PG-13 Warnings: some strong language; a lot of lust; baekhyun being the worst wingman to exist; it gets pretty spicy by the end but like..only if you squint? just playing it safe yall Word Count: 13.1K

It is only when Kyungsoo’s hand falls delicately into his lap, fingers grazing your thigh with the aimless of touch of nonchalance that you decide:

If you make it out alive, you are going to kill Baekhyun.

Three hours into the road trip, and you think the conviction of this decision carries with it the bitterness of gunpowder and the relief of satisfaction, two distinct feelings entirely befitting the situation you have found yourself in. A five hour journey is long enough on its own, time blurring seamlessly around you in the close confines of a car - but, when pressed against Kyungsoo like this, against the strong muscles of his arms and thighs, feeling the heat of his warm skin radiating into yours, five hours is centuries of pining. These hours are too long for anyone to survive, the weight of yearning compressing your lungs into phantoms of their former glory, breath too quiet, and too slow, afraid of disrupting the fragile pretense of peace.

Being this close to him, this close to the embodiment of your pining, carries the same impact in your bones as a cataclysm, and so you grimace in dismay, silently aware that you might not even live to make good on your silent promise. Baekhyun will live another day and you will wither amongst the remainder of your desire, buried with yet another promise you failed to keep.

Somewhere in an alternate universe, you are happy, and this happiness comes easily. In a different life, you are comfortable, riding in Chanyeol’s car with him, his girlfriend, and Yixing, listening to the playlist Chanyeol had enthusiastically curated for the journey. You would be laughing, talking, teasing - or, perhaps, none of those things, instead luxuriating the jovial warmth that always seems to bloom in their company, the kind that overtakes you without warning, mind unfocused and hazy with thoughts of freedom.

Instead, your back presses into the middle seat of Junmyeon’s old car, knees and thighs aching with the effort of making yourself small between Kyungsoo and Yixing. Glancing to your right, you eye Yixing’s placidly neutral expression, his unfazed smile as he teases Sehun, reaching forward to ruffle his hair from behind the seat. Briefly, you envy him, his loud laugh and the way things are always uncomplicated for him - the way he always gives over out of love, even if he has the briefest moments of internal protest.

At 8AM, Baekhyun insisted he bring his new fling on this vacation. It was important, he said, his eyes pleading with you and Yixing, the puppy dog expression you'd grown used to fixed securely in his cheeks and pout. Chanyeol’s car would be the couples car, and so it was important he be there to set the mood. Yixing had eyed him amicably, biting the inside of his cheek with an endeared sense of amusement, complaining only because the plush seats of Chanyeol’s car were far more comfortable and because it would insight a brief riot in Baekhyun that served only to amuse him further.

And he conceded almost immediately, an ever supportive wingman, winking at Baekhyun before excusing himself to gather his things.

You, however, protested valiantly, arms crossed over your chest and heart unmoved. Baekhyun pleaded, promised french fry dates and to do your dishes for a week - even though he does not live with you, even though you actually enjoy doing your dishes, and, still, you protested, lips pursed and eyebrow cocked in disdain.

But, standing gracefully in the doorway, the sunlight gliding over his shoulders, craving an angle against his jaw you found almost holy, far too magnificent to be human, Kyungsoo laughed. The deep honey chocolate of his tone brought gooseflesh to your skin, teeth biting down on your tongue to keep your spine from trembling; your favourite laugh, and one he so rarely gives only to you. Behind him, Chanyeol’s tall frame lingered by his car, calling for anyone to get in so he could make his departure, and you think Kyungsoo’s bemused, affectionate smile is really what you agreed to.

Hours of his smile, even if it was put out, even if it was a barely there glimmer of fond annoyance, even if it faded almost as quickly as it came - this is what you agreed to.

Even if it meant letting your own heart break, and mend, and shatter once more, chest tight with the burden of proximity.

‘I can feel you looking at me,’ he mumbles, just softly enough that only you can hear the dulcet nature of his voice, teasing and sharp.

Shifting beneath your gaze, his arm nudges gently into yours, soft and supple and smooth, the cotton of his white shirt reduced to little more than rough muslin in comparison. He keeps his head turned as he looks out the window, one hand in his lap while the other holds his chin in its palm, trees and grass streaking past beneath an endless expanse of blue sky. Sunlight pours through the window onto him, casting shadows along his jaw and cheeks that somehow make the curvature of his lips ever more pronounced in profile.

Around you both, conversations live and die, the rippling cadence of Yixing’s laugh losing its edges as you continue to stare, unblinking, at the hard edge of Kyungsoo’s jaw.

‘Is there something you want?’ At this, he directs his attention to you, your dry mouth and unwavering gaze, hand still cradling his chin as he regards you expectantly.

His eyes move over you slowly, taking their time getting acquainted with your features in this light. You feel him where you never feel anyone - all over you, yet ephemeral and nowhere at all, this kind of touching a mystery that runs deep. In a single moment, he is both above and beneath you, walking over the map of your skin and treading just below the surface, the blood in your veins rushing to your heart in celebration. The air in the small car becomes thin, lungs tight and breath constricted. Your hands curl into fists, pressing nails into the muscle of your mount of Venus, but it is not in frustration or fear, rather, instead, the only way you know how to suppress this insurmountable adoration.

By stopping the surrender before it starts, you do not even have the choice to give in.

Perhaps, in the same life in which you are riding in Chanyeol’s car you are also bold, brave enough to give him the best words, the most beautiful words, the ones you keep perpetually beneath your tongue, waiting. How would he look in the aftermath of honesty? What smile would you be given? Would you even survive? You’re unsure, the aspects of such a reality hidden from you now, and so you swallow thickly, giving moisture to your voice to ensure you can speak, even if it is not entirely brave.

‘You’re blocking the window,’ you lie, surprised that you sound so confident, so calm, when the border between your bodies has been so ruefully challenged.

Eyes squeezing closed, they press into crescent moons as his cheeks rise up along the bones, and Kyungsoo laughs, genuinely amused by the absurdity of your statement. So unlike the booming force of Chanyeol’s laugh or the high pitched delight of Yixing’s, Kyungsoo’s low and deep giggle is a thunderclap in the center of your chest, an endless roll of electric pleasure along your nerves. The force of it has him jostling into your side, shoulders vibrating through the humor, and you feel yourself bristle, wholly unprepared. This moment of contact brings with it the absence of thought, the absence of protest, running far deeper than you imagined it could. In a single moment, your longing threatens to unmake you, wanting more of his pleasure, more of his joy, certain nothing is as sacred or magical as this.

Offering you a sardonic, yet amicable smile, he leans back into the seat, making himself as small as possible to take up the least amount of space. Tucking his arms into his sides, he moves away from the window entirely, and releases a hiss of breath through his nose. One eyebrow cocked in question, he pouts, the fullness of his bottom lip sticking out childishly.

‘Is this better?’ he asks through grit teeth, though his smile is tucked in the corner of his lips as a secret; dawn just about to break over the warm glow of his skin.

In this position, his shirt becomes constricted and stretched over his chest, shoulders, and abdomen, revealing the deep contours of his torso. The mid-morning sun casts him in gold, making a home of the pores of his skin and revealing amber flecks in the chocolate of his eyes. Immediately, your tongue becomes heavy, the taste of light filling your mouth, the taste of him and the heat of your unbridled wanting. Even with the smallness of space he has created, gaps between your bodies revealed where he has since retreated, the warmth between you both is a fire that refuses to die, and, in the aftermath of his simple question, you feel yourself flush.

‘Yes, much,’ you nod, hoping your expression is cordial and unmoved. Because it is true. You find you enjoy this view far more than the one before. ‘Now, if only you can stay like that for two more hours.’

Once more he laughs, enjoying your teasing banter as he relaxes into his previous position. All over again he relaxes into you, comfortable and content, strong muscles of his thighs vibrating into your legs as the car bounces over a bump on the highway. It frustrates you how swiftly the butterflies in your stomach wander into your heart as you watch him, stuttering in its rhythm as a stubborn reminder there is no escape, no fail safe to liberate you from this craving. If anything, the closeness you must endure over the length of this trip is only furthering your desire to shorten the ever present distance between your hearts.

‘Why did you give Baekhyun such a hard time this morning?’

His question interrupts your thoughts, words soft yet his tone carries with it a deceptive bite.

Narrowing your brow, you almost snort in surprise. ‘Because it’s ridiculous. Changing everything around at the last minute,’ you explain incredulously. ‘It’s ridiculous.’ Settling back against the hardness of the middle seat, you stare straight ahead, casting your unfocused gaze out beyond the windshield. ‘I can’t believe you’re even asking, as if you wouldn’t do the same.’

In the years you have known him, there has never been a moment where he allowed Baekhyun to get away with anything - not least without an argument or some form of protest. Moving Kyungsoo from one opinion to the next requires a fair amount of convincing and explaining, and, usually, results in his profound frustration until he gives over just to end the conversation. This morning, Kyungsoo said nothing, and his laugh, his smile, and his acquiescence is more out of place than your childish protesting.

Chuckling, he turns back to the window beside him, nodding slightly. ‘You’re not wrong,’ he muses in agreement.

Silence befalls you both, one that does not contain walls or barriers but is gratified. Kyungsoo comfortably nestles into his position, ready to maintain this pose for several more hours, and you turn to look at him, bewildered.

‘That’s it?’ He seems both completely satisfied with your answer and disinterested in continuing the conversation, and your mind races with a confusion so thick you think your hands could break it. ‘That’s all you wanted out of that?’

Tossing you a placid smile, he nods once more. ‘That’s it.’

Searching his face for answers, you translate his words over and over, breaking them down into their smallest pieces to grasp at what lies beneath. ‘Did you ask just to get a rise out of me?’

He keeps his eyes on the world outside, basking in the gold of daylight. It refuses to let him go, the sun, like always, pretending it is you.

‘Maybe so.’

It’s after you’ve dropped your bags in your large room, the one with the bay window overlooking the lake, that Kyungsoo asks you to help him make lunch.

You’re not entirely sure where the others have gone, and you find yourself in the open kitchen hugging yourself, looking around the mess for some way to busy your hands. Too many insulated bags and groceries line the counters, the chaos of them inciting a productive sort of stress, the kind that makes you ready to sort and fix, in your veins. Kyungsoo moves around the room with a confident ease, and for a moment you envy him; the answers already seem to live in his actions, not a single moment of question as he clears space and makes room.

Outside, you hear the deep baritone of Chanyeol’s gleeful howl as it heads towards the lake. Baekhyun’s voice follows, higher in pitch but just as eager, and in the silence of the room you hear Kyungsoo chuckling to himself. The smallness of his smile is betrayed by the light in his eyes, his own happiness a private paradise he shares only with those who choose to look.

And even before you had any control over it, before your mind could remind you that you value yourself and your solitude most, you had chosen him. You will always choose him.

‘Do you want to help me cut the vegetables?’

He doesn’t look at you as he asks the question, unloading the set of knives he brought for the week with careful motions. The silver blades seem to gleam in the midday sun, and you recognize them as the ones you bought for his birthday the year previous. He hadn’t asked for them, hadn’t even suggested you buy him anything, but as you passed the culinary shop window, mesmerized by their sharpness, their danger, their promise, you wondered - would they be a present or a plea? An offering of his happiness or yours, a moment of union between you both in which he would feel joy and you would be the cause of such magnificence.

They’re well worn now. Even from where you stand, you can see the streaks along the blades from multiple sharpening sessions, and as he holds them you can see the hidden strength that lives in his hands. His hands, rough and powerful, yet still more fine than sand and warm as maple. You have never told anyone about your admiration for the elegant length of his fingers, the peaks and valleys of his knuckles, and the way they seem to hold you, transfix you, satisfy you simply because they are proof beauty is not a face or a voice, but an art inherent to all things living. You suppose you will never tell anyone, his hands a poem for you alone.

Peering up at you curiously through the length of his lashes, he patiently waits for your answer and, for the second time today, you feel him. He is becoming an invasion, your defenses drawn down over the many hours beside him, the length of your thighs still tingling from his touch, and you are so aware of him the ripeness of this attention causes you to shiver.

‘Why are you asking me?’ you ask softly, taking a few tentative steps towards the island where he stands. Everything about your motions, your words, is careful, tender, mindful that this kind of question is fragile. ‘You never let people help in the kitchen.’

He stills as he lifts his head to appraise you, unabashedly taking you in and holding you under the ferocity of his gaze. Any other man and you would call this entrapment, but you are used to giving him everything, used to his penetrative stare and the way he always, without fail, seems to witness every flawed and contradictory piece you try to keep buried.

‘Because I want you to,’ he says, as if wanting anything is simple.

Aimlessly, you nod at his response, scanning the island counter as you approach with your arms hanging limply at your sides. You’ve surrendered to him without your own permission, but you are not terribly dismayed by this. He asks for help and speaks of wanting as though it’s an easy request, yet the tension at the back of his throat, minimal and almost imperceptible, implies this is something big and bold and frightening for him to say. For as long as you’ve known him, you both have been difficult, anxious, battling yourselves more than you battle the world around you, and so you do not comment on this ask - do not comment on the emotion of it - because you could still be wrong, and he could still take it back.

‘Aren’t you the one with the chef’s license?’ you tease, coming to stand beside him, unloading the food and organizing them into piles to be moved to their respective cupboards or shelves. ‘Wouldn’t my peasant hands ruin your julienne?’

‘Har har.’ The sound of his sarcastic laugh makes you blush, looking over your shoulder as you tuck unneeded cold things into the refrigerator. ‘And no,’ he continues once you’re beside him again, ‘I don’t need things to look pretty today, I just need them to taste good.’

Handing you a knife that fits perfectly in the palm of your outstretched hand, your eyes meet for a moment that is long enough to generate a spark. It blossoms within your blood, the mark of friendship and the mark of love blurring together the same way grief so often follows joy, weaving together to create something tender and something reverent. You look at him, and this moment feels eternal.

‘Besides,’ he mumbles, moving to guide a bunch of scallions, some tomatoes, and freshly peeled garlic on to the cutting board he has laid out for you. ‘Sometimes the most beautiful things in the room are the ones with flaws.’

Entirely unsure what to say to this, you simply bob your head with a noise of interest, a feigned motion of understanding. He does not seem to notice the way his words pierce you, cutting at wounds you have long since done your best to hide from him, and you are glad his smile endures. From the corner of your eye, you watch him carry on, cutting into an onion with little pomp and circumstance, the ghost of his words a phantom that chooses to haunt only you. Your hand trembles only slightly as you move the garlic into position, and you grip the handle tightly to keep your motions steady and even, gathering all your strength to root into the base of your joints.

Moments slip past you freely, moments where you are silent save for the deep inhalation of breath that fills your lungs as you watch him cut. Your friendship with Kyungsoo is still relatively new, in your eyes - two years on and still there are details of his life, his history, his character that elude you. Still, you know him well enough, likely somehow have always known, that he is complicated and oftentimes impossible, unfathomable, thinking too hard about every nuance and detail that colours his choices.

But when he cooks, when he is in the act of creation, making a whole reality to be touched and tasted with his bare hands, you find he has never been so certain of anything. As he turns the onion, halving it swiftly before quartering it, there is no doubt in his actions, no hesitation, and he seems to relax into this confidence, mind wandering freely because there is no room for its criticism.

‘To The Lighthouse or A Room of One’s Own?’ he asks, unprompted.

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you begin slicing the garlic into small pieces as you consider his question. ‘To the Lighthouse.’

You're unsure who started this game, the habit of asking one another questions on your preferences, something that feels so fundamental to your relationship you imagine it is genetic to the very fabric of its existence. It no longer matters who started it, you think, only that it has persisted without ever fading, something you look forward to whenever you're together. Baekhyun finds this game rather comical, often wondering why you even bother when you both know so much about one another at this point old topics must be rehashed. But each time, every time, he says this Kyungsoo simply looks at you with an expression that could stitch together the stars and you know, together, that he is wrong.

Even if a topic is revisited, the answer is always different. In this way, you ensure that you know one another and you still never stop knowing.

Kyungsoo hums at your response. ‘Why?’

This is yet another unwritten rule of the game: for whatever you choose, you must offer a quote or a reason, the one thing you cling to that makes the choice feel superior over the other.

Three months ago, he loaned you both these books, and you had finished them rather quickly. The day you returned them, your fingers grazed as he took them from you, the resulting tremor of this touch leaving your hands caught in a fire that would not cease for days. He didn't ask what you thought beyond if you'd enjoyed them. You suppose he'd been saving it for this moment.

Pressing your palm into the flat of the knife, you compress a clove of garlic and dig deep. You'd given your answer automatically, on impulse, and hadn't truly considered the fact that you must quote the line that made your breath catch and your very bones quake. It hits you now that he's read these words, felt this kind of swooning even if there is distance between your twin heartbreaks; eyes kissing the same page long after one another has departed.

‘It was not knowledge, but unity she desired,' you begin, focusing intently on chopping so as not to lose your will, 'not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself - which is knowledge.’

His knife falters in cutting the onion, the blade slipping against the wood of the cutting board as you finish speaking. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you watch the juice spread beneath his perfect slices, his lips parting slightly as he takes in a slow hiss of breath. Steadying himself, he gathers his composure and begins chopping once more, nodding in agreement.

It is your turn to ask a question, but you take this moment of silence to watch the light from the wide kitchen window nestle between his cupid's bow, understanding with your whole chest why the moon fought so hard to claim the sun.

‘Are you okay?’ you murmur, keeping your tone quiet and gentle, concerned yet distanced, not wanting to embarrass him.

‘Mhmm,’ he hums, flippantly avoiding the question.

‘Dexter or Supernatural,' you inquire, moving your pile of minced garlic to the corner of the board as you gather the bunch of scallions.

‘Dexter,' is his confident reply.

'Have these already been washed?' you divert, and he glances to your hands, nodding. Lining them up, you continue.‘Why?’

Sighing, he unwraps a large cut of fish from its paper packaging, considering his choice. ‘We all make rules for ourselves,' he quotes. 'It’s these rules that help define who we are. So when we break those rules, we risk losing ourselves and becoming something unknown.’

Amidst your meticulous slicing, you feel yourself bristle. In the choice between the two, you agree - Dexter would be your first choice. Yet, you had not expected him to pick this quote, this particular choice carrying with it the weight of your identity. Your understanding of yourself and your needs has always been wrapped up in these few lines, your desire for rules and control the very thing that allows you to relate to the world. Everyone you know finds things both disruptingly and disturbingly true about themselves through their relations with other people, through their relationship to their surroundings.

You relate to yourself and to them through the rules you have cultivated, based on your experiences of others rather than their integration into your life. You want to break free from this, aware that this is only yet another way you stand to complicate your understanding of everything, but you rely on it.

And, it seems, so does he.

He is soft and sensitive, and yet conversely so rigid, operating within his own rules. To step outside would be a great unmaking, and, for one blissful moment, you find there is no space between where you end and he begins. In this understanding, you are both slinking toward a new reality.

Glancing down at your cutting board, you pout. The scallions will be uneven.

Kyungsoo swallows with a low cough, clearing his throat. ‘Neruda or Siken.’

A wide smile blooms across your features, this question perhaps one of the easiest he has ever asked. ‘Siken.’

Using your knife, you push the chopped scallions to the top of your cutting board and slowly roll a few of the tomatoes down to the center. Your smile falters, already picturing the mess of squashed pulp that will come from this. Years of cooking for yourself, but still your hands are too heavy for delicate things. With a small sigh, you angle your knife over the ripe curve, the skin so smooth you think your knife might slide right off without any incision at all.

As you start to press your knife down, Kyungsoo stops you.

‘Try like this.’

Coming to stand behind you, he takes your hands in his, joining you in holding the knife and holding the vegetable, the touch from his fingers feather light and, conversely, heavy as steel. Your breath halts its journey in your lungs, blood too warm and stagnant in your veins, your heart faltering amidst this disruption. The heat from his chest radiates into your back, meandering down your spine and into your legs, all over your nerves until you wonder if there is anything left of you, any part of you he has not touched.

He makes being near him feel like a season, full years and days lived in the wake of a breath; your every breath heavy with him, and the things your heart yearns to offer him. Every second full of an exhale transmutes into the precipice of a life well lived, because he is there and smiling and sharing the world with you even if he is not sharing the ardor in your lungs. Kyungsoo is the fifth season, a season unto you, an oncoming wind between the border of summer and autumn, between the heat and the chill, neither a warming nor a cooling but a possibility of both all at once.

You know this. You have always known this. But, recently, in the days you find yourself absent from him, your heart unmakes the memory of these small euphorias, unpossessed and eternally lonely, unwilling to cling to that which it cannot keep. And so you are whelmed and unmade by the totality of him, forced, now, to stitch yourself into someone entirely new, someone who knows how it feels to be close.

He guides your right hand forward, easing the knife slowly along the tomato until the base is what presses into the skin, not the middle.

‘Why Siken?’ he whispers, and he is close enough his breath tickles at your ear, cascading down your neck and into your shoulder. He spills over you, and you tremble, knowing he feels you but he says nothing, polite enough to maintain your pride.

He asked you a question. You know he did, and it takes work finding words when he is doing his best to consume you like this, your eyes watching as he, and you, together, slice a tomato into thin circles. The rhythm he creates with your twin hands is steady, even, almost musical in the way you can anticipate the sound of it, and it grounds you just enough to remember you are about to give absolutely everything away.

If he does not know yet, if he has not known, you suppose he will know now. But he asked. And so you will tell him.

‘Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us,’ you whisper, matching the volume of his voice. You know he will hear you. You wonder if he will feel you. ‘These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we will never get used to it.’

Kyungsoo eases the knife down one last time, and keeps it there, pressed against the cutting board as the slice drops mutely against the other pieces, the juice from the vegetable seeping deep into the wood. His thumb moves slowly over yours in small circles - you’d like to call them reassuring, but as he steps closer behind you, as his other hand moves his fingers over your knuckles, you wonder if there is any reassurance to be found here.

In love, in lust, the solidarity you have found in your hobbies and your, almost selfish, avoidance have dissolved, leaving you exposed to the full extent of his soul. No, there is no reassurance in this liminal space, the moment in which you will either become unbreakable or tragically unrecognizable threatening your very sense of self. Had you known when you met him that it would feel this way? Had you known that loving him would be not unlike a benediction?

The problem, you think, is that even if you had known, nothing would have stopped you. In every life, in every choice, you love him like a beginning and an ending, your heart incapable of knowing much other than craving him.

His hands drift away, peeling off your skin, slowly, as though he is reluctant to leave. Turning until his nose is tucked into the hair just above your ear, he inhales deeply, hands coming to over just above your hips. The energy between you is a live wire, your mouth running dry and your tongue coming to wet your lips, feeling yourself grow parched. Kyungsoo takes a long breath, filling his lungs with nothing but you, before he exhales and whispers into the shell of your ear.

‘Can you handle it?’

You’re not sure if he means the quote or the rest of the tomato, not sure if he means if you can handle this, with him, or the rest of your existence without him. You aren’t entirely sure of much other than the force of your attraction, the sheer power of it, and the way you think it will fuel your every thought until your bones become ash, this love a windmill in your chest.

‘I think so,’ you mumble in affirmation, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a small expression of encouragement, hoping you look convincing.

His eyes have grown dark, the chocolate of his irises tempered with an impenetrable black, and a flush spreads across his cheeks so warm and pink you would think he’s been sugared. Immediately, you regret seeing him, the lust in you becoming a sea, the swell of it so deep and so strong, you fear you might drown in it, in him.

‘Actually, I’m feeling a bit warm.’ Side stepping along the island, away from him and out of his orbit, your words are rushed and hurried. Running a hand through your hair, you look at him, pleading. ‘Are you okay to take it from here?’

‘Yeah, are you okay?’ he asks furrowing his brow, concern evident in his voice.

‘I’m fine,’ you nod, looking everywhere but his face. ‘It’s fine. I just need to dip my toes in the water to cool off. Text me if you need me to come back?’

He laughs, watching you affectionately as you turn away from him, heading to the sliding door that leads to the brilliant green grass of the back yard. ‘Okay,’ he calls, his voice following you out.

You know that he will not.

You know that there is a barrier that stands between grief and loving, a door to walk through in which there is a boundary between the knowledge of love and the acceptance of it. He opened the door. You stepped through, momentarily basking in the reverence of it, only to leave, shutting it behind you, likely forever, to wallow in the ever comforting loneliness of wanting.

‘Are you joining me?’

Chanyeol’s girlfriend sits on the dock, leisurely swinging her feet in the water as she cranes her face into the sun to watch your approach. Covering her eyes with her hand to block the sun, she offers you a curious smile as you slide off your sandals and sit heavily beside her. Leaning back on your hands, you let the sun warm your neck and chest in contrast to the cold lake water that laps lazily over your feet and midway up your calf, pressing your fingers into the rough oak. The water’s chill walks up your skin, soothing the tension in your nerves that lingers from Kyungsoo’s breath, smile, lips, and voice.

In the distance, Chanyeol’s laughter mixes with Yixing’s and Baekhyun’s. Just beyond their small circle, Sehun and Jun canoe in amusement, the paddling of their oars a relaxing rhythm amidst the chaos that surrounds them. Baekhyun’s new girlfriend swims close by, her laughter jubilant yet reticent, still testing the limits of her comfort. Eyes still closed, you tilt your head to the side, remembering how you felt the day you were integrated into this group - shy and uncertain, the closeness of the bonds surrounding you both frightening and awe inspiring.

Chanyeol made it easy, as he always does, but, strangely enough, Kyungsoo made it easier. Even without loving him, without the intense desire to be near him, you would have chosen his company over all the rest. He said your name like it was something special, like he was careful with it inside his mouth - like it mattered. He wanted your opinion on everything, wanted your thoughts, wanted your voice first. You’ve lost count of the parties, the gatherings, the movie nights, the drinking games, and as a result all the times you’ve wound up next to him, tucked into a corner just talking and just learning.

Kyungsoo made it easier than all the rest, simply because he demanded you at his side.

Opening your eyes, the light seems to sparkle in the places where it kisses the water, putting a glimmer against your skin.

‘How did you do it?’The words taste bitter and heavy against your tongue, and you find yourself grimacing as you speak.

Chanyeol’s girlfriend, the Countess as he likes to call her, turns to face you. You feel her eyes move over your profile, patient despite her confusion. ‘Do what?’

‘Tell him you loved him.’ Chanyeol dives under the water only to break through the surface behind Baekhyun, dunking him with a gleeful howl. Would it have been easier to manage your feelings with someone so vocal? Someone with such little restraint? Sitting up, you press the base of your palms into your eyes and release a mournful sigh. ‘How did you own up to it?’

‘Well, I didn’t have to do much,’ she laughs. Looking at her, the expression your features decide to wear feels plagued by uncertainty but she does not see you. Her gaze has drifted to where Chanyeol swims, to his broad form and his musical laugh, her own expression softened beyond measure. She smiles as she speaks, unbridled in her admiration. ‘You know Chanyeol. He’s the least discrete person and also not terribly patient.’ Tossing you a knowing grin, she giggles affectionately and you cannot help but laugh, her happiness naturally contagious. ‘The beauty of those things is he figures out what he wants immediately and then acts on it only after he’s decided it’s to his benefit. He’s very discerning that way.’

Humming, you glance down at your legs and lean back on your hands once more, pouting. ‘Did you know, though? All that time, did you know?’

‘No,’ she shakes her head. ‘I suppose, looking back, there were always signs,’ she concedes quickly, ‘but we’re so similar, I would go between thinking it was just our way of communicating and connecting to thinking it was flirting, but only when I was alone. When I was with him, I just wanted to enjoy being with him.’

‘How?’ You don’t mean to sound so incisive or desperate, but the feel of Kyungsoo’s hands still nestles deep within your skin, and you can sense him there even after he has departed. You are certain that you will spend the rest of your life with him pressing against parts of you long dormant and long ignored. ‘How do you do that? How did you not lose your mind being so close to him?’

‘That’s giving me far too much credit,’ she laughs, body jostling against yours in her amusement.

On instinct, as though the very sound itself is a siren call, Chanyeol ceases his movements and turns to see her, the teasing smile he’d been sporting with Yixing fading into one of contented devotion. In a single instant, the mere sight of her smooths away all his edges. There is something unspoken, yet eternal, lurking in the depths of his eyes, his yearning a boundless loyalty that declares her as his treasure.

‘I always wanted to be close to him, and I was always on the edge of my sanity. But..’ her speech dies slowly, voice tight with emotion. Considering her words, she holds his stare and refuses to look away, seemingly adrift with him. Instinctively drawn to him, she leans forward slightly, the bones and the core of her pulling her to him as best they can. ‘He makes me happy. In the purest, most simple sense of the word he makes me happier than I’ve ever been able to really...attain, if that makes sense.’

She looks away from him then, turning to regard you rather seriously. ‘Happiness has always been a choice I have to make, but it’s also something that is elusive.’ All too easily she adopts the austere tone she so often uses when giving you advice - words stern and slightly cold, though still doing her best to remain supportive and encouraging. ‘When I’m with him, he sustains it. I’m not stressed and I’m not anxious, I just get to be. You have no idea how unbelievably peaceful that is. If I spend my time with him overthinking, it rushes me to a feeling, to a place we don’t need to be in. I don’t want to overthink, I just want to be with him.’

She takes him in once more, all the tension seeming to leave her muscles as her eyes touch what her hands cannot, visibly comforted. ‘More than anything, I just want to be with him’

Fundamentally you understand her statements, your heart responding and reacting to the sentiment with little input from your mind. A language has started to develop within you, the kind that seems to be spoken by Chanyeol and the countess, a language that exists where words fail entirely. There are no words to describe the way you yearn for Kyungsoo, not a single syntax that could contain his grace, his imperfections, the breadth of his very soul. There are no words, yet you comprehend all of it - you feel all of it, the very act of this understanding a transgression against your sense of self.

Shaking your head, you groan, doing your very best to stay the same, to stay guarded. ‘That’s too much to think about.’

Chuckling, she pokes you in the shoulder. ‘I know this is about Kyungsoo.’

Waving her hand away, you hurriedly hush her with a loud hiss, looking to the group and back again. Running your fingers over your arm, you massage the slight pain with a small frown. ‘They might hear you,’ you whisper, aghast.

She snorts. ‘They’re too absorbed in whatever competition Chanyeol has created. And it’s not like this is a big secret. But okay. I’ll be quiet..er.’

The blood in your veins seems to chill, matching the temperature of the water at your feet. Eyes wide, you whisper, ‘People know?’

‘Yes,’ she nods, like nothing has changed, like this single fact is the most inconsequential thing in the world. ‘I’m pretty sure everyone knows, except for Kyungsoo which is shocking.’

With a groan, you fall back onto the dock. Heated by the direct sunlight, the wood sends heat through your shoulders and spine, an otherworldly compassion that does its best to ease your tension. Draping your arm over your eyes, you sigh. ‘Must you always tease me?’

‘Yes. It’s my duty.’ Patting your leg gently she offers little condolence, her voice a sarcastic lament.

In the ensuing quiet colours move amidst the darkness behind your eyes, sunlight infiltrating the small gap between your arm and the bridge of your nose, and providing a kaleidoscope of purple and green. Lilacs and lilies are carried in the rustling breeze, the opposite side of the lake decorated with a field of flowers, its tall grass and array of blossoms just as dense as the hunger in your blood. If you were alone perhaps you would weep over this, the inward nature of this secret desire fueled by the feel of his fingertips and his laugh and his breath on your neck - it is enough to consume the very heart of you, leaving nothing in its wake.

To give in to this would be to render yourself unrecognizable.

‘Have you ever wondered who you would be if you weren’t trying to think your way through feelings?’

A groan of discontent bubbles in your chest, her question simultaneously full of good intentions while still demanding you confront the change occurring within you. Like always, she insists that you take control of it, that you become a participant in your very unmaking - that you surrender to it, as though the only thing you must endure is yourself. How much of this can one survive, you wonder. How much of a person can survive the devastation of wanting?

‘That’s not entirely helpful.’ You know that you are whining - you can hear the cadence of your unease seep through the last of your syllables. But this cannot be helped, you think. Your great resolve has been terribly weakened.

She inhales, preparing to reply, only to be interrupted by the sounds of splashing water making its approach. Removing your hand from your eyes, you lean up slightly and squint through the changing light to see Chanyeol, his arms breaking through the water as he swims to the dock. Pressing his hands onto the wood, he lifts himself up to linger between his girlfriends legs, getting both you and she wet. You roll slightly to the side in surprise, doing your best to avoid more water getting on your clothes, but she just leans forward, the stars and the moon shifting through her eyes she takes him in.

‘My love,’ she giggles, kissing his nose. As she pulls away, he follows after her, leaning forward for more, but she is already looking behind him, brow furrowed. ‘Aren’t you in the middle of some kind of challenge?’

‘Yeah,’ he laughs, folding his arms on the dock and resting his head as he gazes up at her. ‘We’re trying to see who can knock Jun out of his canoe first.’

Cocking an eyebrow at him, you smirk. ‘Isn’t that dangerous?’

‘He’s got a life jacket,’ he shrugs, entirely nonchalant. ‘Anyway, I need a good luck kiss.’

Running her hands through his hair, she lets her fingers toy with the tips of his ears as she speaks. ‘You know you’ll win even if you don’t get one.’

His eyes flutter closed under her thoughtful touching, swooning into her orbit as he hums. They stay like this for a moment, awash and enraptured with one another. Their world is foreign to you, a place of belonging where they live only with each other, and more vulnerable and brave than you could ever comprehend.

When he looks at her again, there is a silent communion that passes between them, words and conversations living and dying on their breaths without any speech at all.

‘Still,’ he pouts, and she understands, instantly pulling him up as he raises.

The prelude to this kiss is just as intimate as the act itself, and you look away, gazing over your shoulder back to the house, back to where Kyungsoo cooks, alone and possibly lonely, abandoned because you have not yet learned how to truly hold the sun in your hands. In truth, you are too fond, too enamored, too lost in him to remember yourself when you are with him; and you are too comfortable, too in control of your emotions to forget yourself, remembering all your flaws and the way they will inevitably be highlighted, all the light in the universe culminating in him and illuminating everything, including you.

Chanyeol swims away once he is satisfied, and you swallow the words that have threatened to rise in the back of your throat. In considering Kyungsoo, you have once again considered the reality of love - they have made you consider love, and there is something easy about the conversation you had before he arrived, so you do your best to return knowing, depressingly, she will not let you escape.

‘You both are assholes you know?’ you tease, nudging her gently.

She watches him hungrily, lips red and swollen, before she looks at you once more, distracted. ‘I meant what I said.’

‘You’re not helping,’ you groan, exasperated.

‘Only because you want to apply logic to your feelings.’ Having collected herself once more, her spine straightens, words full of authority. ‘Sometimes, feelings don’t make sense and sometimes they just are. Who are you when you aren’t thinking about how you feel?’

‘I don’t know,’ you shrug, defeated. ‘I can’t know because I don’t even understand what you’re saying. What do you mean by don’t think about how I feel?’

‘Yes, exactly!’ she says, far too enthusiastic for such a non-committal answer.

‘You know I understand even less now, you know this right?’ you murmur flatly, looking back to the water.

Gaze unfocused, your friends are a blur of action far away from you. Their colours merge and mix while you try to surrender your conscious mind in favor of feeling. Every breath you take is full of him, every inhale and exhale an ode to the way you both see and feel him without ever looking at all. The first summer you met him, everything was pure happiness. July was oppressive in the way it kept you perpetually warm, but you thought you would forget him, that the feeling would fade - this kind of craving dies with summer, the twilight of the season bringing forth a reality too harsh for summer’s fruit.

But he has not left you. Not once. Not even a little.

‘How does he make you feel?’ she tries, taking a different approach to her questioning. ‘Don’t think about why you feel it, just think about what it is.’

To you, the question is inherently frightening, the tendrils of it dripping down into the cage of your ribs and tightening, finding all the places the ache in you is the most special and the most tender. The question is frightening, but it bears an even more frightening answer - a frontier and the unexplored desert of truth.

‘Safe,’ you admit, acknowledging, horribly, that while you are safe with yourself, you are, perhaps, even more safe beside him; his aura, a temple. ‘He makes me feel safe.’

When you look at her once more, you’re certain you are something pathetic, but she simply takes hold of your hand and squeezes it, the reassurance of her touch a threat to the dam of solitude locked inside your chest.

‘Then,’ she begins, almost too soothing and too sweet for you to stand, ‘the next time you’re with him, let yourself be safe and nothing else. I think everyone wants to know who they are when they’re safe, without question.’

The problem, you think, is that you have always known who you would be if you let yourself go. The problem, you think, is that you have known and done your best to spirit it away, aware that to feel as much as you do, about everything, would render someone monstrous.

To be free and open and safe with him is to be hungry - not the absence of yearning, but the sheer, irrevocable abundance of it.

'Listen, the Baroness needs your room.'

Baekhyun corners you in the hallway long after the sun has set. Cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, the wine from dinner and the beer from the fire pit still linger in his bloodstream, giving him the sort of dazed, sleepy appearance that usually makes you soften towards him. Leaning against the wall for support, his closeness allows you to smell the smoke and ash from the bonfire on his clothes, and if he had posed any other question, said, quite possibly, anything else, you would have ruffled his hair and given him a hug, wanting to be close to him.

Instead, you rear back slightly, so bewildered you are certain you have mental whiplash.

'What?' The word comes out quickly, more an exclamation of sound than an actual word. ‘The who?’

Baekhyun shrugs, sheepish. ‘You know how Chanyeol calls his girl the Countess, Jongin calls his Duchess.’ He sways as he speaks, a sign of his drunkenness or a sign of his shyness at the question, you cannot be sure. ‘I’m trying this one out for mine.’

Humming, you nod. ‘That’s very nice. And no.’

'Come on,’ he pleads, already starting to whine. ‘You can share with someone else, but she really needs your room.'

Crossing your arms, you mirror his pose and lean against the wall. The dim light of the hallway puts shadows under his eyes, making his expression look far more forlorn than it likely is.

'Absolutely not,’ you say, sternly. Twelve hours later and you are in the same position as this morning, protesting against the unfairness of his requests. ‘I paid for that room out of my own pocket. She can't just come on this trip and freeload. Besides, didn't you bring her on this trip to get laid? What are you going to do, astral project through walls?'

'No, not really, I mean maybe but not exactly,’ he stammers, doing his best to piece his argument together. Too tipsy to mask his meaning with the smoothness of words, all he can do is suffer the truth of his emotions. ‘It’s not exactly like that but I can't make it that obvious.’

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, exasperated. 'Baekhyun, it's already obvious.'

'Don't you know there has to be finesse to this?' The barely restrained emotion in his voice dismantles the playful tone he has done his best to adopt, the intensity of his desire not something to be trifled with.

But so too are you unafraid of a challenge, your mind already made up, your heart already enclosed in your room with the lakeside view.

'What are you, seven?’ you laugh, incredulously. ‘I think she knows exactly what you're looking for out of this, it's why she's here at all.'

'It's not that obvious,’ he pouts.

'Literally, why would anyone agree to go on a vacation with a bunch of strangers and one guy they only kind of know?’ you challenge, unable to fathom any other conclusion. Even in the beginning, when Chanyeol would invite you out, your proclivity for quiet nights at home always had you leaning toward spending the evening with a book until he would mention Kyungsoo’s name. The sound of the word alone would draw you out, his name dissolving the essence of your loneliness if only for one night. ‘She's here for the same thing as you, just get it over with.'

'I don't just want to fuck her!' he exclaims in a loud whisper, both your eyes widening at his admission.

In the aftermath of his outburst, there is a looming silence in which you are uncertain what else there is to be said. It weighs down on you, on your shoulders and on your heart, the uprising in him so unlike his usually soft and sweet demeanor. He has never been one for committing, never been one for avoiding what he wants either, and so this limbo between wanting her to be his while also keeping her at arm’s length puts a throb in the center of your temple.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you dig your nails into your arms. 'I'm so confused about what's happening here.'

'I really like this girl.’ It’s the most careful Baekhyun has ever spoken, as if he is just as perplexed as you by the sheer tenacity of his emotions. Hearing himself say the words seems to put a colour in his cheeks, deepening the shade of his blush beyond alcohol, beyond the kiss of the afternoon sun. Baekhyun grows almost weary in his relief, glad that he has said it out loud, to someone. ‘I don't want to just make it about that one thing.'

Resting a hand on his shoulder, you offer him a sympathetic smile. Over the years of your friendship, you have watched him fall in love several times a day, with so many different things, his heart an atrium that endlessly nurtures romance and affection. It’s rare for him to settle on one single person, and even more rare for him to act on it.

'I respect you,’ you say slowly, pressing your thumb into the strong flesh of his arm in solidarity, ‘but I still paid money for that room, so it's not happening.'

'I'll pay you back for it,’ he tries, starting to sober beneath your perpetual refusal.

'Baekhyun -'

'Kyungsoo's room has two twin beds,’ he blurts out in a rush, all his words condensed on a single breath. Feeling yourself pale, the axis of the world seems to shift beneath your feet, your vision suddenly blurred and unfocused, dizzy, and he takes your surprised silence as volition to speak. ‘It's like a pleasant surprise! You can share with him.'

Even in the dark, you can see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes, the sparkle of an ulterior motive lurking in the depths. It would not be the first time he attempted to be your wingman, would also not be the first time he would fail at such an endeavor, and your hand slides away from his arm, falling limply at your side. You watch him, slack jawed at the horror of it all, stomach dropping all the way down to your toes.

'Baek, no.’ It is your turn to plead, amazed your voice even makes a sound with how dry your throat has become.

'Oh, come on!' Baekhyun has the audacity to laugh, slapping your arm congenitally as if his encouragement is enough to placate you. 'I'm trying to help you!'

Sarcastically, you snort. 'You're helping yourself and clinging to the hope that it would ever be about me.'

Somehow immune to your admonishment, he simply wiggles his brow salaciously. 'You know you like the idea.'

'Fucks sake, I should never have told you about this,’ you hiss, crossing your arms over your chest once more. ‘I got drunk one time and now you think you can play matchmaker.'

Baekhyun sighs, shrugging his shoulders. 'Listen, I already told her she can have your room -'

Rearing back, you blink rapidly, appalled and bewildered. 'What the fuck?'

'And Kyungsoo already agreed to letting you stay in his,’ he continues, ignoring your seething disdain as though this is simply a negotiation about where to go for breakfast.

Blood rushing away from your cheeks, running to service your overactive heart, you simply stare off into the distance, beyond Baekhyun, beyond the house altogether, to a time in history when you would not have to spend the evening sharing his air. 'I hate this.'

'I know.’ It’s his turn to rest a hand on your shoulder, his expression somehow far less sympathetic than yours had been. ‘But if this is the only way for both of us to get what we want, then someone has to put some fire under your ass.'

Shaking your head, you do not allow him to come into focus, mumbling with scathing contempt. 'Wow, I actually hate you.'

'You move at a glacial pace.’ Assuming the conversation is over, he removes his hand from your shoulder and turns away, no longer giving you any opportunity to complain. ‘At least now we all can say we tried.'

Hurriedly, you follow after him, pushing off the wall and gathering the strength to move your things from your lakeside room to Kyungsoo’s, the phantom memory of his skin on yours awakening once more.

'Why are you still talking?’ you call after him.

But he just tosses you a sly wink over his shoulder, laughing to himself as he heads down the stairs.

‘I can hear you overthinking from across the room.’

The light from the moon creeps in through the sheer curtains covering the window, Kyungoo’s voice filling the space, dancing on the rays, with a tired rasp. He’s worn himself out - laughing, yelling, drinking. Somehow, the sound is thick and heavy, sinking down and deep into places long left untouched, your body wired by the sound of him alone.

'Just go to sleep,’ he chastises, turning over in his bed.

It is only the two of you contained in this small space, twin beds side by side, close enough you can hear his breath. Pressing your head against the pillow, your mind has become divided in two, living in two places at once - this moment, and your time spent with him in the kitchen, doing its best to rationalize the difference. Cooking with him, he was all over you, hands on yours and chest against your back as if he was learning how to make a home of you. It was different then, almost too tactile to comprehend but the sun through the kitchen and living room windows somehow made the world seem wide.

His touch had a distance, a space - even if you could not see it, you could sense it, the light finding its way through, reminding you there is a line between your body and his, a line between simply touching and truly feeling.

Now, in the dark, everything, even the gap between your mattresses feels close - too intense, too raw, to real. The darkness is oppressive, like that, a brief moment in time in which you are aware of the edge of things. Resting in the center of your bed, you are aware of the edge of your limbs, the absolute limit of your body. In the room, you are aware of the edge of your bed and the way there is just enough distance between yours and his for a single person to stand. In his bed, you are aware of the edge of his lips, and the way his breath cascades over them, facing the window to kiss the moon.

And you are aware of the edge of your resolve, threatened and thinned to breaking by the way the light casts him in silver, illuminating all the parts of him you find sacred.

‘You’re wide awake too,’ you say to the ceiling, not allowing yourself to see him. ‘I guess that makes us even.’ Biting your lip, you close your eyes and sigh. ‘I’m not the only one who can’t fall asleep,’ you finish quietly.

Kyungsoo laughs, warm and rich, utterly intoxicating, no trace of irritation in his words as he speaks. ‘Okay,’ he muses. 'How about this.’

You hardly have time to knit your brow together in thought before he begins singing, the rich honey of his tone turning the room into amber. He doesn’t often do this, a talent he likes to keep to himself. Sometimes, when he is drunk, he can be convinced to be the start of a song, not the result, but even this takes an equal amount of convincing as it does bottles of beer. But you have found, over time, that the talent itself is not so secret - hidden, but not entirely forbidden.

When he is with you, somehow you always hear his music, your ear always finding and listening to his voice first. You have found there is not a single moment he is without music, the way he speaks a melody unto itself, but when the sun goes down and the others go to bed, and it is just you and just him, and the dying embers of a fire that blazed too high, he sings with you.

He sings, often, just to make you smile.

'Oh, dear god, is that supposed to be better?' you laugh, skin tingling with adrenaline and a down turned corner of your cheeks as though you are saying goodbye to a time in your life when things were safe.

Kyungsoo interrupts himself, and even though you do not see him, even though you cannot yet bring yourself to look, you know he is beaming. 'I'm not going to stop until you sing along.'

He continues singing and the joy in you sets itself free, liberated like a terror. You would be frightened if this moment were perfect, would feel the world dissolve around you, his voice a nightingale leading you to perish. You would retreat from all of this, except -

'I hate this song,’ you sigh, flopping your arms atop the mattress to signal your unrest.

'I know,’ he persists, turning in the bed to face you. The darkness does little to hide the intensity of his focus. If anything, it feels heightened, the angles of your profile burning beneath his scrutiny. ‘But you know it.'

In spite of yourself, you close your eyes and let the bliss send shivers through your veins. When you are not looking, held in the darkness of your own making, your body becomes otherworldly, something entirely outside of yourself, someone you don’t recognize. How far have you crossed? What line have you transgressed and ignored, blithely meandering into the irresistible territory of passion? It’s all over you now, your smile full of teeth and your mind empty, save for his melody and the advice of Chanyeol’s girlfriend:

Who are you when you are not trying to think through emotion?

It happens in the limbo between who you are and who you want to be, the room suddenly a cathedral devoted to your wanting. With your eyes open, your love takes a verbal form, this voice yours yet better, enhanced and empowered, and you sing because you no longer can help it. Nowhere near as confident or stable in your notes, your voice does its best to hold onto the words, finding the center of the notes almost too late before it’s time to move to another, but, strangely, you don’t find yourself blushing. It is not, you think, that the darkness has made you less inhibited, rather that with a song you hate and a smile at your lips, you simply don’t have it in you to mind.

'There it is!' he celebrates, raising his arms off the mattress and clapping.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, your shyness in the dark somehow even more amusing, you cackle. 'God, this is terrible.'

Adjusting his pillow, he hums. 'Exactly.'

The aftermath of your twin voices seems to reverberate around the room, long after you both have fallen quiet, the echo bouncing off your skin. This kind of euphoria could only be brought by him - his intelligence, his stubbornness, his perceptive intuitiveness. With only the echo and the memory sustained, your breath becomes unsteady, reminded that this place, this room, will no longer just be a place but a sanctuary and you will no longer just be you, but you will, forever more, be his.

'Sometimes,' you begin, words a whisper that you know he will still hear, 'you're funny.'

'It's just something I'm trying.' Such a simple statement, one full of humor and sarcasm but one with a texture that makes you press your tongue to the back of your teeth as he says it. He sounds tired of running - from himself, from all the great complexities he finds in the world, but not from you. 'Just something I want to try for a little while.’'

'All the time.’ Your own words are abrupt, clipped at the end of their syllables as you rush them out, needing him to hear the correction - to not miss it, not for a second. 'You're always funny, all the time.'

For a long while he considers your statement, and, in the absence of sound and conversation, the air in the room becomes thick, sluggish in your lungs. Your fingers curl into the sheets, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling because now, if ever, it would be terribly dangerous to turn to face him. At least, you presume, he finally knows. He must know, the layers of this confession wholly befitting the hallowed energy that lingers between you.

Swallowing thickly, you let him take his time, forcing yourself to be patient. The darkness has brought everything together, the gap between your beds somehow closed, as though he is right next to you, even unreachable as he is.

'You're the only one who sees me that way,’ he says finally, and you hear the care laced in his voice, doing his best to articulate his appreciation.

You want more of him, more of this sound, more of everything he keeps tucked away where prying eyes cannot follow. You want all of him, his very existence an addiction.

'It's because I see you.' This time, you are more brave, more confident, and there is a pleasing dissonance to your voice, the old you starting to become devoured by the new.

Tonight tastes different on your tongue. Something about the moon and something about the sun, about the way you have spent too long in the light with your private luxuries shrinking ever further away, has allowed you to gather blossoms of starlight, their twinkling mysteries putting a hope in your joints that has never dared to trespass until this moment. All your life, the darkness has been a shroud and a veil, a cloister keeping you contained only with your yearning thoughts and your inadequacies, an invasion that has wormed its way within you for too long. It leaves you now, spilling outward and shimmering in the moonlight, leaving you free and empty, with room to nurture a burning flame.

Kyungsoo remains completely still, and you have the passing thought he does not move for fear of causing your retreat. 'And what do you see?' he asks softly.

Fingers pressing deep into the feather comforter, you hum. 'It depends.'

A low chuckle rumbles through his chest, the very sound a ripple of thunder in the night. 'That doesn't sound reassuring.'

Taking in a deep breath, you hold it in until your lungs hurt, smothering the doubt, the fear, and the inexplicable notion that this will fail until you can convince yourself you are indestructible.

'It depends on how long I let myself look, and depends on what you feel that day.’ Furrowing your brow, you tuck the inside of your cheek between your teeth. This should be sufficient, but he is so much more than a summation of looking, a summation time. He is something that is held without time, something you wish to behold eternally, even long after you are dust. 'It's not that you're mercurial,’ you continue, doing your best not to cringe at the clarity in your voice, ‘it's not that you're not consistent. I think I just see other things because I take my time looking.'

How would he look if you said these things to him in the daylight? What would the midday yellows and oranges reflect if he looked at you, and let himself be seen? Would you tell him your looking extends beyond admiration, beyond mere affection, and into the shuddering truth of love? To say all this in the sunlight, what would become of you?

You think it’s for the best that you will never have the answers to these questions, the night the only thing clinging tenderly to your pride, protective and secure.

'And do you like what you see?'

His voice is full of bashful apprehension, the rustling of his own sheets a symphony to accompany his tentative questioning. He shifts restlessly, hopefully, and you feel the sound with your whole body.

Licking your lips, you press onward, getting used to breaking the darkness - getting used to feeling raw and open. 'That also depends.'

'On what you see?'

Unable to help yourself, you finally turn to your side and look at him, eyes adjusting almost instantly to trace the nuanced details of his face, the moonlight painting silver shadows along his features. You’ve been lured to him, driven to see him now that he is asking to be seen, wanting your eyes on him; the very question begged you to look, and to take your time looking. Incrementally your longing grows, a swell in your chest that challenges the very depth of the lake, rushing through you until it cannot be contained.

'On whether you want me to like it,’ you clarify.

Leaning up to support his head on his hand, he looks at you and the hunger painted over his expression is enough to have your fists curling into the mattress. It stirs in you the need to be consumed, to be loved by his mouth and the palms of his hands, the greed in you not unlike an uprising. The flush in your neck spreads over your chest, your shirt constrictive and tight, suddenly no more room for you and all this impossible craving. Even still, Kyungsoo still remains calm, a king in the world of pleasure, looking at you as though you are a gift for feasting.

'I think people always want to be liked in some way, don't you think?’

A low growl lurks in the back of his voice, tone dropped down an octave to find gravel you have never heard before. All month, the nights have been uncharacteristically cool, heralding the slow death of summer as it bleeds into autumn, but you are heated. His gaze lives beneath your skin, now, a fire that refuses to burn out.

‘And,’ he carries on, as though you remain unlit, ‘I also don't think your opinion of me should depend on me. That's for you to make.'

Lips parted, mouth wanting to take him in, you mirror his pose and lean up on your arm. Slowly, you shake your head. 'That's not what I meant.'

The rasp in your voice surprises you both, and he smiles at the tension he has created, excited at the prospect of snapping it.

'Then what did you mean?' he presses, and you would rejoice at the sensuality of it, at the way the fullness of his lips shapes the words, but the appetite within him is like a hand at the center of your throat.

'I meant whether you want me to like it...' The admission drifts away, the choir of blood in your heart on fire with the weight of honesty. But you are glad for this burning, the fire that eats at you every bit his as it is yours. 'Whether my opinion matters.'

'Your opinion matters.' Kyungsoo doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t allow room for ambiguity or dishonesty. His eyes narrow, penetrative and demanding, keeping you still. 'You matter.'

Unfurling your hands, your fingers press into the sheets as though they are his shirt, his hands, his skin. The angular brutality of him has unmade the careful concealing you have spent years constructing. Hours ago, you had admitted that Kyungsoo makes you feel safe but now you are realizing the peril of letting him in - realizing you are the torment and the danger, little more than the ghosts of your desires. Now, you are starved for him, your tongue a desert aching to be drenched.

Tossing the sheets to the side, Kyungsoo moves his legs over the bed and rises to a stand, taller than you’ve ever seen him stand. Steel keeps his spine straight, shoulders rolled back in pause as though his mind is catching up with his limbs, before he crosses the small space and comes to sit on your bed. You don’t trust yourself with him this close, not anymore. Not after you have learned to love, not only him, but the very act of loving him.

Shifts closer to you, close enough he could touch all of you, not just your legs, your hips, your waist, your chest, but so too your face and your lips - close enough you can taste him on the air. With your lips parted, every breath you take is full of him, tongue wet and heavy with his flavor.

‘What are you doing?’

‘We aren’t like the others,’ he says plainly, fingers toying with the sheets beside your hands.

Your eyes drop to his hands, avoiding the power of the intimacy you find in his expression. It feeds into the room, your tongue coming to lick your lips and he takes in a shuddering breath, the very sound sending a jolt of desire between your thighs. Taking your silence as permission, he continues to speak, the very anguish of his words exhausted at the prospect of not having you.

‘We don’t…’ Taking a deep breath, he glances around the room, searching. ‘Flirt,’ he settles, though even this word does not seem to satisfy him. His gaze on you is hard, urging you to look up and see him, to meet his eyes and witness him. When you do, you’re certain you could smell his very heart, your blood suddenly full of his seductive magic. ‘At least, not like they do. I don’t make speeches and you don’t surrender, not unless you’ve been given explicit proof that it’s safe. That you’re right.’

It’s as though he looks down into you, deep enough that his gaze means to caress your ribs, your bones, wrapping himself around your spine until all your senses belong to him.

‘You see me.’ His teeth glide roughly over his bottom lip, nipping it quickly before releasing it, the blood beneath the skin rushing to make it more plump than it was before. ‘And I see you. I have never stopped seeing you. I’ve not wanted to stop seeing you, finding you, learning you since the day I met you.’

If you are the devil lurking in the dark, the hungry one with eyes of greed then he is the lust, the one who has torn through you and pulled out the language you have only just started to understand. The moment that follows is enormous, a moment in which you realize love is not only the act of feeling but the act of seeing, of being seen. He describes you as though he knows you, as though he knows the clawed and ugly parts of you that threaten to tear the fabric of your existence apart, and as though he loves even what he sees in those.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aware of gravity, of the way language is not only a syntax but a physics, and of the way he has slowly inched closer and closer, your vision full of only him. With your eyes adjusted to the dark, you come to see yourself as a hawk, able to find yourself in his eyes, able to see yourself as he sees you - pupils dilated and not allowing you the privilege to remain invisible. In feeding on him, you feed on yourself, and so, too, you suppose does he feed on you, on himself, on the carnal savoring of your longing, united.

‘What are you saying,’ you whisper, certain he hears you, certain he hears your plea to be explicit.

‘I’m saying,’ he begins, lifting his hand to cup your chin. He holds it in his hand and pulls you close, his breath on your lips a fever, the feel of his bones pressing into yours sparking a voracious desire to be devoured, ‘if you are thinking of taking a risk, you are safe.’

His truth is a dawn breaking over your skin, spirit sanctified by the permission he grants you. Before you can even comprehend your actions you press your hands into the mattress and give yourself the momentum necessary to close the distance between your lips. The sheer force of the kiss gnaws at you, his free hand coming to wrap around your waist to pull you close. Flush against him, you think you are powerful enough to eat the moon, to eat the sun, to have him and keep him buried beneath your tongue.

He moans against your mouth, the sound of it shuddering against your chest and vibrating through you. Your own arms wind around his neck, fingers toying with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, unable to mind that this new position is awkward and difficult to sustain. You have managed much worse, have contained whole stars in the center of your chest for years and still have survived - you think you can manage the slant of your waist as he holds you against him, unforgiving.

Running his tongue along your lips, he asks for permission you are eager to grant, slipping his tongue against yours in a tentative stroke of possession. In your mouth, he is the blunt edge of a knife, cutting you deep enough that you think no other hands, no other lips will have their fill of you - no one else will have their fill and still find themselves engorged with an unconquered thirst. Sucking his bottom lip between your teeth, you nip the flesh to a swell that feels warm and plump.

He smiles against you, pulling his lip away and you smile too, his voluptuous mouth a blessing.

‘You’re wrong,’ you murmur, grazing his lips as you speak.

Insatiable, he kisses you again, stealing what he can of you until you are breathless. ‘How so?’

Moving one hand from his neck, you cup his cheek and laugh, a sound he eats with his own chuckle. ‘We are exactly like the others.’

Author’s Note v2.0: i do not own the quotes from Virginia Woolf - To The Lighthouse; Dexter, the TV show; or Richard Siken - Scheherazade

tag list: @yehet-me-up @wonderlustlucas @junkfoodwriting @taestfully @heatofmyexoheart @majci @ahgishaman @softly-savage-mint-yoongi @lamichellee

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crystalstar8 · 3 years

Text

Knights of the Night (ch. 5)

Chapter 5

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,942

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j @daechwitad-2

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

“Come downstairs and meet our new friends!” said Hoseok.

Catalina’s eyes widened when she saw the person coming around the corner upstairs. He was bookmarking the book in his hands and closing it. As he walked down the stairs, Catalina took in his sharp, intelligent eyes, his full lips and otherwise soft features. His hair was styled delicately over his forehead, his shoulders were broad, his chest was big, even under his sweater and…

Catalina knew those thighs.

Jungkook choked beside Catalina and nudged her.

“Thighs,” he whispered. Catalina nodded.

“We saw you in the souvenir shop the other day,” said Catalina. “I’m sorry, uh, my name is Catalina.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Namjoon said with a smile, his dimples appearing. Catalina blushed. He was way too gorgeous. “Yeah, Hoseok and I stopped there on our way into town the other day. I think I remember seeing you two there.”

“Oh! You guys work at the souvenir store!” said Hoseok. “I knew you looked kinda familiar.”

“Yeah, we’re only there on the weekends,” said Jungkook. “We’re only gonna be working for the season.”

“It seems like an interesting job,” said Hoseok. “You’ll get to see all the tourists.”

“You guys are all students?” asked Namjoon. Catalina, Jungkook and Jimin all nodded. He asked them about their majors and what kinds of classes they were taking, which they happily answered until Catalina caught a glimpse of the time.

“Guys, it’s three am,” she said. “We should probably head home.”

“Oh jeez, we have that stupid French class at eight tomorrow,” said Jungkook.

“We won’t keep you then,” said Taehyung. “Classes are important.”

Taehyung walked them all out, through the front door this time, and the three friends began making their way back to the car.

“Well, that was interesting,” said Catalina. “We didn’t die, so that was cool.”

“I thought they were all pretty cool!” said Jungkook. “I mean, still a bit weird, but cool.”

“Taehyungie wants me to teach him how to play video games,” said Jimin.

“He wants you to teach him?” Jungkook asked with a laugh. Jimin smacked his arm.

“We’ll be learning together,” said Jimin.

“That’s so cute,” said Catalina. “You already have a nickname for him. Anyway, I have a question: why the hell were they all so attractive?”

“I was thinking the same thing!” said Jimin. “It didn’t make any sense! Like, normal people don’t look like that. They were way too beautiful.”

“We’re normal people though,” said Jungkook. Catalina and Jimin looked at him in confusion. “I mean, we’re hot too. Sometimes people are just hot.”

“We’re like, normal people hot though,” said Jimin. “Those guys were like…gods or something.”

“Yeah, way too pretty. Perfect skin, perfect hair, all charming,” said Catalina.

“Red eyes,” Jimin mumbled.

“Okay fine, they were unusually pretty,” said Jungkook. “I’m just glad we got some awesome footage today. I can’t wait to dump this.”

“Okay, well don’t do it tonight, because we do have class tomorrow morning,” said Catalina.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catalina was running again. Always running. Her feet were bare and her lungs burned. The concrete beneath her feet gave way to metal grating. Her footsteps clanged and echoed here as she made her way through the tunnels. She glanced behind her. It was dark, but she could see a set of red eyes approaching her, almost glowing. These eyes weren’t the ones she was used to. These were mean. These eyes looked at her like she was prey. The man who the eyes belonged to walked, as if it didn’t take much effort to chase after her. He had a sickening smile on his face.

Catalina needed to get out of these tunnels. If she could get back to her friends, they’d protect her.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” the man said, his voice mirthful. “Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little kitty?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember what he looked like, but I remember what he said,” Catalina said to Jungkook as they made their way to the library. “He said, ‘Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little kitty?’ Just like in your story.”

“That’s creepy,” said Jungkook. “He had red eyes though? Was he one of those guys from the house?”

“No, definitely not,” said Catalina. “I remember thinking about them, and you and Jimin, and thinking that I needed to reach you guys because you’d keep me safe. This is the first time I could remember so much.”

“I wonder what these dreams mean,” Jungkook said as he opened the library door for her.

“Thanks. Yeah, I have no idea,” said Catalina.

“Maybe they’re prophetic,” said Jungkook.

“God, I hope not,” Catalina said as they approached the table. Jin and Jimmy K were both sitting there, textbooks open.

“Well, well, well,” said Jin. “Look who decided to finally show up today.”

“You don’t have to greet us like that every time,” said Jungkook as Catalina laughed.

“How are you guys today?” asked Catalina.

“Now that you’re here? Fantastic,” said Jimmy K with a wink.

Catalina blushed and said, “Okay, that’s enough, captain.”

Catalina and Jungkook sat down as Jin began their tutoring session and Jimmy K studied silently beside them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, game night,” said Jimin. “Do either of you know what to expect tonight?”

“Nope! I’m just excited to sit around and eat,” said Catalina. “Take a right up ahead.”

“Where? There’s no driveway, oh wait,” Jungkook turned into a somewhat overgrown driveway, hidden by the woods. “Also, we have a premier to watch!”

“They’re gonna love it,” said Catalina. “Jimin, did you have fun yesterday?”

“I did! Hoseok is a really good dancer,” he said. It’s been a week since they broke into the house and met Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon. Yesterday, Catalina and Jimin had invited Hoseok to a freestyle session in the campus studio. He was happy to join them and show off his moves. They all ended up teaching each other different styles, but it was mostly Catalina and Jimin asking Hoseok to teach them the pop and lock style he was so good at.

Jungkook’s car pushed through the heavily overgrown driveway until they reached cobblestone, which led right up to the mansion. Catalina closed her phone map and said, “Well, it’s good to know there’s an easier way up here.”

“Yeah, I thought we’d have to keep hiking up those rocks every time,” said Jungkook as he put the car into park. The three friends piled out of the car, arms full of snacks, wearing their comfiest pajamas. The porch lights of the mansion were on, illuminating Taehyung as he opened the front door.

“Welcome!” he shouted. “Did you find it okay?”

“Yeah, Hoseok texted us a route,” said Catalina.

“You guys and your fancy telephones,” said Taehyung. He let them in and they all took off their shoes. “So, we were thinking some board games tonight. Or card games. Or a game Hoseok described to us called Pictionary. Or we can just chat. Or-“

“Tae, that all sounds great,” said Catalina.

“Right, sorry,” he chuckled. “Here, follow me.”

They followed Taehyung through a few halls before entering a cozy lounge. Big plush couches lined three walls, a flat screen tv was mounted against one wall and a low coffee table sat in the center of the room. Hoseok and Namjoon stood up from the couch as they entered. The smile fell from Taehyung’s face.

“Where’s Yoongi?” he asked.

“He said he wasn’t in the mood for game night,” said Namjoon.

“Who’s Yoongi?” asked Jimin.

“He’s our other roommate,” said Namjoon. “He’s been tired these days.”

“He promised!” Taehyung pouted. “He told me he’d come to game night.”

“Let’s go find him then,” said Hoseok.

“I’ll go with you!” said Catalina. “I really want to see the house.”

“Me too!” said Jimin.

“Me three,” said Jungkook.

“Okay, Tae tae, Namjoon, you two stay here and set up a game. I’ll give these three a tour,” said Hoseok. They dumped the snacks onto the coffee table and followed Hoseok out of the room.

He led them through the massive house, through rooms so grand, Catalina wondered how big this house actually was.

“This is the library,” said Hoseok. The room they were in was enormous. The ceiling was cavernous and domed and the bookshelves towered high.

“This is an impressive collection,” said Catalina.

“I know, these guys do love their books,” said Hoseok. “They’ve been collecting for years I guess.”

“I’m sure,” said Catalina.

Hoseok then led them through several hallways then showed off his bedroom. His room was so unlike the rest of the house, it felt like stepping into another world. Everything was bright and colorful, there were brand posters all over the walls and an impressive shoe collection beside the closet, which was open and showing off an array of colorful clothes. Hoseok then took them on a walk through the conservatory. There wasn’t much growing right now. It was mostly cracked marble and empty pots.

“Maybe we can fill this room with plants next summer,” said Hoseok.

“I garden with my mom every year,” said Jimin. “I’d love to help.”

“That would be very nice,” said Hoseok. “This house deserves to be put back together again. It’s just so pretty.”

He then led them back through the house. As they walked the halls, chatting about their classes and classmates, Catalina could hear the faint sound of a pipe organ.

“Ah, he must be in the auditorium,” said Hoseok. Catalina’s eyes widened.

“The auditorium?” asked Jimin. “You guys have an auditorium in here?”

“With a pipe organ?” asked Catalina. Hoseok chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“I know, right?” he said. “These guys are so dramatic. I guess they’re used to a certain lifestyle and they’re all rich for some reason…I mean, back in collage, I was happy when I could afford a cup of ramen in my one room dorm.”

They followed the sound of the pipe organ until they came to the auditorium. The three friends gasped as they entered. The auditorium wasn’t huge, but it was incredibly elaborate. When Catalina was about twelve, her mother had taken her to a show at the Detroit Masonic Temple. This auditorium reminded her of the Masonic Temple auditorium, all carved wood and velvet seats. Up on the stage was a huge, ornate organ. The pipes lined the walls near the ceiling, emitting long, haunting notes. A man sat at the organ, hunched over the keys.

“Yoonie-boonie honey-baby!” Hoseok shouted in his loudest, cutsey-est voice. The man at the organ stopped playing. Hoseok skipped down the aisle and hopped up onto the stage. “We have visitors, come meet them!”

The man turned around slowly to look at them. He was just as beautiful as the other residents of the house. His eyes were dark red, just like the others, catlike and tired. His round face was pale, his lips in a slight pout.

“I thought we weren’t having humans at the house,” Yoongi said. Hoseok laughed loudly, slapping his knee.

“We’re all human here, so I’m not sure what that means!” said Hoseok. Catalina and Jungkook laughed along with him as Jimin just looked at them with wide eyes. Yoongi seemed like an interesting character. “Come to game night with us. I miss my honey-boy Yoonie bear.”

Yoongi stood up and looked down at Catalina, Jungkook and Jimin from the stage.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said. “Will there be food at game night?”

“I brought salt and vinegar chips,” said Jimin.

“I brought chocolate,” said Catalina. Yoongi pointed at her.

“A woman after my own heart,” said Yoongi. “I’ll come.”

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morganas-pendragons · 4 years

Text

Warmth | Echo

finding gifs of echo is so hard holy crap

this is part ii to ice - which you’ll probably want to read first // tagging @kill-the-feels

this also features my clone!commander OC named cain

***

The first thing he thinks of whenever Rex pulls him out of that stasis chamber is how warm it is. Echo can’t remember the last time he actually felt his heart beat or saw people - real breathing people - much less felt warmth.

Then he starts looking for you. Rex sees it too. The wanting, the desperation for someone familiar. Someone who loves him.

“Don’t worry, vode. I’m going to get you back to your cyar’ika.”

Rex grabs his hand and Echo latches on because he, just like his other brothers, craves touch. The ice that’s spent the last two years building up in his chest starts to crack as the warmth bleeds through.

The warmth of a brothers love.

Echo knows without a doubt that Anakin Skywalker will get him off of Skako Minor. That Rex, his Captain and his ori’vod, will keep him away from the steel grasps of the Separatists who saw him as nothing more then a machine.

He follows the other clones, the ones who call themselves The Bad Batch, through the ventilation system in the route that’s been mapped inside his head. It was the only logical means of escape. That unfortunately meant calling on the Keeradaks, which Rex later comes to tell him that they’d used the creatures upon arriving on Skako Minor and meeting the locals.

Echo isn’t paying attention to the droids that can suddenly fly and are pursuing them as they make course for the village. His blaster fits into his flesh hand like it’s meant to be there, and the air is flowing by him and he’s surrounded by his brothers and for the first time Echo feels like he’s alive and on top of the world.

That’s when he start laughing. Oh, how it felt to be alive.

Now he just needs to get back to Anaxes. Back to you.

Cyar’ika.

***

Rex had the good graces to inform you before he left for Skako Minor with the Bad Batch that he was following a lead that would probably lead him to Echo. You hadn’t believed him at first because Fives had told you himself. He’d been the one to see it. He’d seen Echo die.

The Clone Captain hadn’t expected you to believe him. He did, however, take your hand in his own and wish you the best. He made another promise to bring your cyare home to you.

CC-1614 is the one who actually manages to convince you that Rex is telling the truth. He’s the one who gives you hope.

Cain is well built as many of the other clone commanders are, a sole survivor of Reaper Squadron who had all died on Jabiim in a battle that had nearly claimed Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life. His general is a good friend of yours, one of the few Jedi who had the ability to Force Heal. You hadn’t exactly intended on breaking the Code whenever you fell for Echo. It had just happened.

Cain and Kix, along with ARC Trooper Jesse, are three of your closest friends. You haven’t been on the front lines in months and Cain prefers to stick close to his General, who is elbow deep in blood and bacta and desperately trying to calm down the clones who are the most frantic and the most critical.

“You’re doing that thing again.” Cain gently nudges your hip with his own and crosses his arms over his chest. The Commander usually plays a stoic facade as he has a reputation of stern authority to maintain, but Opal Stone has impacted him deeply enough that he feels it necessary to be himself when he’s not on the front lines. “The I’m going to look off longingly into the horizon and if I stare hard enough, Rex will bring my cyare home look. You look like a love-sick teenager.”

His jibes fall on deaf ears. You’re not hearing it.

“Hey.” Two different colored eyes meet your own. “I’ve been a POW. I’ve been where your cyare has been. It won’t be easy for him to reintegrate back into the GAR but if you’re gonna be there for him like General Stone was for me, I think he’ll be okay. He’s strong.” His head dips to his chest. “Stronger then I was.”

There’s alot surrounding Cain’s time as Dooku’s slave that Opal did not tell you. You don’t need to know the gritty details of his time as a prisoner of war because all you have to do is look at Cain to know what he went through. His arms are marked with sleeves of tattoos as a remembrance to his fallen brothers - Abel, Funsize, Viper, Killshot - and the Mark Of Cain sticks out like a brand against his temple.

But for someone who’s seen so much death and so much cruelty, he seems oddly at peace.

“You’re a good man, Cain.” You murmur, beaming back at him as his face splits in that rare smile he almost never lets anyone see. “A good man also brings his favorite Jedi caf. I’m exhausted.”

“Sure thing.” He winks at you and kriff him - it’s enough to make you blush like a schoolgirl. “General.”

You don’t have enough time to banter with Cain because then your comm starts going off.

“Hello?”

“General, this is Anakin Skywalker. We’re enroute back to Anaxes with Echo.” The world stops moving. There’s no dying soldiers or harsh realities or fear or feeling. There is only you and Anakin who has just delivered a truth you’d long denied yourself accepting. These men - these good, brave men - were not meant to come home from the front lines. They were there in service of a Republic that did not care about them and so you did, you'd allowed yourself to be submersed in love and light and laughter that The Order didn’t give you.

Memories flash behind your eyes like the scenes of a holodrama. Echo is there, Echo is always there, but now instead of being too far out of reach for you to hold he is light and laughter and everything your life had been lacking since Fives had told you about the Citadel.

Echo was coming home.

Your breath catches in your chest and your throat knots and Force, you can’t breathe- “He will need treatment. Have Kix help you. I’d recommend a closed off room.”

“Right-Right away, Skywalker-”

Your comm shuts off and hands are resting on your shoulders, slowly traveling down your arms until fingers are lacing with yours and someone starts speaking in a string of Mando’a that’s mostly incomprehensible to your ears. You don’t have to turn around to know it’s Kix.

“Kix-”

Then you hear it. The unmistakable hitch of his breath and the cry building up in the back of his throat reminds you that Echo is so vastly loved by both you and his brothers. The same brothers who’d once thought him dead and are singing their rejoice in their mother tongue upon finding out that a brother long lost is coming home.

You and Kix set to beginning the preparations for Echo’s treatment. Kix gives stern orders to the other medics that no one will be allowed inside of this room except the two of you, Rex, Jesse, Cain and Anakin. You want him to feel safe, to be safe, which means limiting the number of visitors.

‘’GENERAL SKYWALKER HAS LANDED!”

Cains voice resounds across the medbay and before Kix can stop you, you’re taking off through the base to where Anakin’s gunship has just landed. Wide eyes follow each member of the Bad Batch until Rex finally leaves the gunship, and cradled in his arms is presumably the man you love.

He doesn’t look like Echo. Not until you see his eyes.

And then you crumble. You really try not to, you do, and it’s a good thing Kix followed you because Jedi are supposed to be cool and composed. They’re supposed to have a control over their emotions.

Too bad you never had control over yourself, over feeling like the way you felt for Echo, because if you did you’d never have had a chance for warmth.

For love.

***

Echo sees a familiar face, then two, and then his arms are reaching out on their own accord because that is his cyar’ika cradled in the arms of his brother Kix and he wants you-

But then he’s injected with an anesthetic that knocks him out cold.

You and Kix work diligently, along with Tech (who proves to be remarkably useful for all the cybernetics that Echo is now implanted with) to ascertain the extent of his injuries. He’s definitely dehydrated and malnourished, but it seems that the extent of what he’d endured at the Citadel had been dealt with by the Separatists.

Except the memory loss.

After injecting a fluid IV into his arm, you allow yourself to ease into the chair beside Echo’s bed and take his flesh hand into your own. There’s so much of him that’s metal now that it’s almost impossible to see the man beneath it, but if weren't for those eyes and that heart that pounds proudly beneath your hand, you wouldn’t even know it was him to begin with.

“He’s safe for now.” Kix handed you a ration pack and water before wiping his forehead with the back of his hands. “I think you can take it from here.” The clone medics bends down enough to brush a kiss against the crown of your head - an action he only does when the two of you are alone because he trusts you - and you thank him with a soft smile and a nod before he parts from the room.

Your eyes travel up and down his body as you slowly drink the water and chew on the ration cube.

“Echo, cyare.” The words come before you can stop them. Your hand is still linked with his, thumb carefully rubbing back and forth in the same way he’d used to do when he’d held yours for the first time. It was a nervous habit. “I’m.. I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know what to say.” You don’t. You’d been too preoccupied by the war to even mourn him. Fives had been your anchor, the one who reminded you of the good you’d had, and then he’d been ripped away from you too. “There’s so much I left unsaid before the Citadel.. and I didn’t-I didn’t think you’d ever survived that-I gave up, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I failed you, cyare.”

His eyes start fluttering. At first you think he’s waking up, but then you feel the way he grips you and then he starts moving, starts whining - Oh.

Oh.

His head tilts back and his speech is slurred, but you catch a few words before each strangled breath - “No, no, cyare-” and your overwhelming desire to hold him overtakes your rational judgement, the one that blares a warning in your mind to stay away, so you climb behind him and prop your knees on either side of the ARC trooper before wrapping your arms around his middle.

The metal doesn’t bother you.

“Come back to me, cyare.” You whisper. Your fingers trail along the cybernetics on his chest and around his abdomen. The gesture is familiar. Comforting. Warm. “Come back to me.”

Echo snaps awake and the ice that has enveloped his entire being since The Citadel shatters. It’s a foreign feeling learning what it means to be warm again but then he remembers he’s on Anaxes, he’s in the base with the other 501st, and he’d seen you before Kix had injected him with the anesthetic. He’s safe. He’s safe.

His voice cracks as his flesh hand takes your own and bring it to quivering lips. You can feel the tears that fall on your skin when he says, “Cyar’ika.”

“Hello Echo.” You muse lightly. Laughter bubbles in the back of his throat as he leans back against your chest, turning just enough on his side that his face is buried in the crook of your neck. Your eyes meet his, and they’re full of tears but they’re his. “Cyare. I missed you.”

“Beloved.” He hums in reply. Echo may not remember what happened whenever he was in the ice, but he remembers you - your eyes and your heart and your soul - and so he remembers what it’s like to love and be loved in return. “Ni ru'akaanir par gar, ner kar'taylir darasuum.”

Now, you’re no expert in the Mando’a tongue, but you catch the end of the sentence. My love.

Your fingers trail over the nape of his neck and down his spine. He’s limp in your arms, head against your shoulder and breath ghosting over your neck. That’s the only way you know he’s even there.

And oh.

He’s warm.

“What does it mean?”

He’s reminded of a similar conversation years ago, when he’d been with his vode in the mess and Fives had asked you to visit to ‘’boost his morale.’’ Maybe his brother knew before he did. Maybe his brother knew he loved you and wanted Echo to be happy.

“You asked me to fight for you.” He whispers. Your eyes burn with unshed tears as he lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze, and you can tell he means it. Which means when he was imprisoned by the Separatists you had been the thing that had kept him alive. “You asked me to fight for you, and I did. I fought for my beloved.”

He falls asleep again, wrapped up there in your arms, in warmth, and you allow yourself to weep again because oh.. oh stars- you love him.

#Echo x Reader #ARC Trooper Echo x Reader #sw: tcw #Star Wars oneshots #Star Wars imagines

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twstismymuse · 3 years

Text

Hello hello!!

First ever post!! Yay!!

This is a little piece I whipped up after getting inspired browsing through pinterest

(Yes i use pinterest they actually have pretty good stuff on there)

Anyways this scenario features my Professor oc, Kathryne Bones ☠️

She’s twisted from Captain Hook and I’ll have more on her soon!

In the meantime, enjoy my pirate queen kicking misogyny right in the dick!!

{Title: A Valuable Lesson}

{Summary: Professor Bones puts a few narrow minded students in their place through a hands on demonstration.}

{Warnings: Misogyny, degrading comments, strong language, objectification}

(Pssst, some character info has been updated here)

—————————————————————

It was supposed to be smooth sailing for her. It had only been a week since Kathryne Bones was recognized as a professor and Geography was added to the curriculum at the esteemed NRC and she couldn’t have been happier. Sure she’d had to push and shove to be able to secure the position of a professor at the college, but the college had only recently begun it’s transformation as a co-ed school and the pure fact that she got the job was a feat in itself as a respected educator. There were doubts about her “qualifications” to be a teacher, but Kathryne was determined to break through those boundaries and prove she could teach a class filled with young boys as good as any man.

Kathryne adored her students and wanted to push them to be the best they could be! Geography was an essential subject, to learn not only about the world they inhabited but the people in Twisted Wonderland as well.

She really thought she would be able to gain their respect.

For the most part, it was adorable seeing the looks on their faces when she walked into the classroom and introduced herself as their new professor.

“Welcome boys! My name is Kathryne Bones and I’ll be your Geography professor. I trust that we’ll be able to get along and you lot won’t feel too put off by me. Savvy?”

“...”

“I’m asking you all if you understand.”

“Ohhhhh…”

The first half of class went swimmingly. Many of the students asked genuinely interesting questions and gave insightful responses. They paid close attention when she pulled up a map of Twisted Wonderland and began pointing out key locations.

“As we can see, the Afterglow Savannah’s absolute location-”

“You should bend over a little more!”

Her metal finger paused and hovered over the labeled country on the map. It took her a moment to fully comprehend what had happened as the sound of snickering and cruel laughter echoed throughout the classroom.

“Or better yet, show us your tits!”

“Doesn’t this school have a dress code? A teacher shouldn’t be walking around in clothes like that, you know.”

“Showing that much skin on the job?”

“Maybe she’s some pirate whore-”

Kathryne kept her back turned toward the chalkboard, yet several students spoke up in her defense.

“Hey, assholes!! The fuck is wrong with you, she’s tryna teach us here!!” A boy with bright red hair and a heart painted on his right eye snarled at the group.

“That is no way to treat a professor, much less a lady!!” A student with slicked back hair and pointed brows barked.

Ace Trappola and Sebek Zigvolt, her brain helpfully offered.

“Come on! What was the school thinking letting a female professor teach at NRC?” One of the ruffians, a Heartslaybul ribbon around his arm, scoffed and reclined in his seat while his friends sniggered. A student with violet hair and soft blue eyes, glared daggers at them and spoke loudly.

“Professor Bones is just trying to do her job, it's very rude to-”

“Please Felmier, in that get up? My dad was right when he said NRC was really going to the dogs-”

“It seems to me, lad, that your father has a rather narrow mindset.”

“Eh?”

Kathryne turned around, a brilliant sickly sweet beam on her face as she moved towards the center of the classroom.

“What did you say about my-”

“I’d like to know what gives you the right to question my authority and not only that, but disrupt my lesson. Is it because you feel the need to say something? Well, the floor is yours now. Do enlighten all of us on what exactly your father has to say about NRC’s reputation.”

The student paused, thrown off guard by the unwanted spotlight suddenly cast on him and the eyes that were watching him and his friends.

He gulped before attempting to maintain his composure, “W-well...he...he said that he didn’t know what the headmaster was thinking, bringing in a woman to teach us-”

“So, just to fully comprehend what you’re saying...your father believes that simply because I am a member of the opposite sex, I’m not able to teach a class filled with males?”

“Well-”

“Look at what you’re wearing though!! What kind of respectable teacher would go around looking like that? It’s distracting! My mother never wears clothes like that!” One of the boy’s friends, an Ingihyde student, came to his aid.

“...I see. Yes, I understand completely!” She clapped her hands together and her eyes sparkled, “Students! I just had the most wonderful idea! Why don’t we try a more hands-on approach~?”

Beckoning the Heartslaybul student forward with her finger she called, “Could you come down here please?”

Confusion and befuddlement visible on everyone’s faces as the young man came forward as instructed.

“Yes, just stand riiiiight there, perfect! Now as for me…” Walking over to the desks, she squeezed past the boys and sat right in the empty seat left by the Heartslaybul student. “Alright, now I want you to go to the board and I want you to pick up my lesson right where we left off, can you do that?”

He hesitantly nodded and turned around to face the wide map. Kathryne nudged one of the male’s friends on her left and gave a sly wink just as the boy started talking.

“Um, well...the Afterglow Savannah is located at uh-”

“Hey, why don’t you bend over a little more? I can’t see your ass all that clearly, sailor.”

He paused while much of the class began snickering under their breaths as the boy’s friends fidgeted in their seats.

“Or better yet, why don’t you just rip your shirt off for me?”

He turned his head slightly, visibly embarrassed and uncomfortable with her cajoling.

“You shouldn’t be walking around with your shirt unbuttoned like that, you’re showing way too much skin during school hours, you know. And your pants are far too tight, I can practically see your bulge through them. I mean really, what were you thinking walking around like that?”

She looked around enthusiastically, yet the male’s friends avoided her eyes, the Ignihyde student scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What’s wrong? You all were so enthusiastic when I was in your mate’s position? Why won’t you join in?”

They remained silent, yet she pressed, “Go on, tell me, I’m listening.”

“...B-because it’s-”

“Uncomfortable? Derogatory? Demeaning? You all seemed like you were having a jolly good time speaking to me that way, objectifying my body and criticizing my outfit though. What changed?”

“Your...sh-shirt…”

“How is my shirt different from his? We’re both showing a bit of skin, yet you feel the need to tell me and not him to cover up?”

“It’s because of...of...”

“Don’t be shy now, I want to hear it.”

“Your...your chest-”

“Ahhhh, I see. Yes, I mustn't let anyone see any hint of the tissue overlying my pectoral muscles. They’re not at all nearly the same in terms of our biology, isn’t that correct?”

“...”

Kathryne carried on as she stood up and made her way back to the floor, “Isn’t it funny how as a matter of fact, Professor Crewel who I know you all hold in great respect, also is fond of wearing form fitting clothes that accentuate his assets yet not one of you seem keen on interrupting his lesson by shouting obscenities at him? What makes my fashion choice different from his? These are the clothes I feel comfortable in, clothes that I feel confident in, yet you lot want to try and bring me down by calling me a whore. I bet you all wouldn’t be so quick to critique me if I told all of you to cover up from head to toe because seeing your uniforms is distracting to me. How would that make you all feel?”

There was no answer, a slight muttering under hushed tones and an uneasy silence filling the air.

“You have no right to tell me what to do with my body and how I decide to dress. You’re all here to learn, not to jack off in the middle of my class to the busty school teacher. I’ll have you know, this is the very same outfit I wore when I commandeered the fiercest crew of buccaneers the seven seas had ever seen. This is the outfit I demanded respect from them in and it will be the outfit you will respect me in. Savvy?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Professor Bones.”

“Excellent. Now, let’s get back to the lesson. As for you four…” Her gaze landed on the group, a smirk on her lips seeing how shaken they looked. “I’ll be reporting this behavior to each of your dorm heads as well as the Headmaster and they’ll deal with you properly. I’m not fond of dishing out punishments like Professor Crewel, but I happen to know Heartslaybul in particular is a real stickler for the rules.”

“Let’s see…” She mused, turning her attention back to the map. “Who can tell me the Afterglow Savannah’s absolute location?”

Perhaps her academic career wouldn’t be as difficult as she thought.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #twst oc #kathryne bones #sebek zigvolt #ace trappola #epel felmier #twst crewel #kathryne says no ❤️ to misogyny

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escapingreality1992 · 4 years

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Satisfaction Needed

Loki X OC - Mina has always finished herself off after meeting up with her fuck buddy. Her secret is revealed to Natasha and Wanda while walking. To make matters worse, she is told she needs to bring a date to an Avengers party. With her options limited, she chooses to go with Loki. She meets up with Emmett, her fuck buddy, before the party and again he denies her another orgasm putting an end to their relationship. Left with no time to masturbate, she changes and goes down to the party horny as hell. Once she lands on Loki’s thigh wrong, it does nothing to help her arousal. Loki pulls her aside and helps her deal with the situation.

Warnings: use of the word ‘slut’. Thigh Riding. Explicit Sex.

Wanda, Natasha and I were taking a walk around the block, talking about life. We were best friends, enjoying each other’s company whenever we could. Somehow the subject changed from details of a future girls’ night to our love life; a secret of my own coming to life.

“I thought I heard you masturbating the other night, Mina. Is Mr. Irish Eyes not doing it for you?” Natasha said.

“Wow. Cut to chase Natasha. Don’t ease into the subject,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought I’d ask. I wanted make sure you’re being satisfied,” she countered. I rolled my eyes, avoiding the question.

“Out with it. Does he keep you entertained? Or does he bore you?” Wanda demanded. I could always count on my friends to be bold with me. They didn’t care who was around or how private the subject might be. Both women nudged their elbows into my side, attempting to get me to talk.

“Stop. Stop. Fine. If you must know, Emmett doesn’t exactly let me…you know,”

“Hah! He has a name. He doesn’t let you what? Spill!” Natasha pressed.

“Finish. He won’t finish me off. He gets off, sure. When it comes to my orgasm, though, he doesn’t care. Just pulls out, leaving me throbbing. By the way, he’s not Irish. He’s purely American like me. With emerald eyes,” I confessed. Heat flooded my cheeks, traveling down to my neck. Wanda and Natasha stopped walking and traded looks with each other. Shock was evident on their features and I almost regretted telling them. Almost.

“I’m sorry. Did you say he won’t let you orgasm? Is this every time or on occasion?” Wanda asked. The heat intensified, only answering her question further. Another exchange of a look.

“Why are you still with him? I mean, that’s downright awful. What kind of a man doesn’t let a woman finish? How can he call himself a great boyfriend?” Wanda continued.

“Ah. Well, he’s not my boyfriend. Technically speaking. We’re only fuck buddies. I don’t mind, really. I manage to take care of my issue when I get back to the compound. Before anyone notices. Except for Natasha, apparently,” I replied. I linked my arms through theirs, pulling them along to finish our walk.

“Don’t feel bad, Mina. Nothing tends to get past me anyway. You should remedy this problem. Get rid of Emmett and date a real man,” Natasha commented. I laughed, grateful to have her as friend. I truly admired her honesty.

“No time. Hence the fuck buddy,” I commented.

“You could always date one of the boys. I hear Steve and Bucky are single. So are Sam, Thor and Loki,” Wanda suggested.

“Too complicated, I think,”

“It’s not that complicated. We’re all in the same field of work and we all live together. I think it might be easier with one of them,” Wanda argued.

“Unless we break up. Then it’s just awkward. And I wouldn’t dare be fuck buddies with one of them. Natasha would only spy on us,” I quipped. She burst out laughing, knowing I was right. “Seriously, though. I’m okay with it. I don’t need to be set up with anyone. I’m not ready right now,”

“Not ready for what?” Tony asked as we entered the compound. He followed us to the kitchen while we got water, continuing the conversation.

“A relationship. Not that it’s any of your business, Stark,” I said. I shot him a snarky grin, skirting past him to the fridge.

“Okay, ouch, Mina. I only asked a simple question. I wasn’t trying to get all up in your business. Speaking of relationships or in this case a date, who are you bringing to the party next week?” he shot back. He feigned being injured in his chest, which set us off laughing again.

“No one. I kind of wanted to go alone. No attachments,”

“You might want to rethink your decision. Bringing a date is mandatory. We’re all supposed to be paired up with someone, regardless of being in a relationship with someone,” he informed me. I groaned in frustration, my nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Why? I can bet you 10 dollars Strange isn’t bringing anyone. He never brings anyone anyway. Why do we have to?” I complained.

“One, he’s too busy to meet anyone to bring a date and two, he’s not coming this time. He got called off to another universe, which interferes with the date of the party,” Tony stated.

“I doubt it’s the real reason he’s not coming. He probably heard a date was mandatory and opted out of it because he can’t find one. I’d be willing to bet no one in their right mind wants to date a second-rate sorcerer like him,” a new person said, joining the conversation. We all turned our attention to the source of the voice; Loki, God of Mischief. He chose not to dress in his usual Asgardian garb. The leather suit with his signature green and gold were gone replaced by a black tailored shirt – two buttons opened to show off a portion of his chest – and black pants. His raven black hair curled around his shoulders, those green eyes sparkling with a sort of malice as he spoke.

“Brother, I don’t know why you have an issue with the wizard, but you should be a little nicer when talking about him. Try to be a little more polite,” Thor’s booming voice chimed.

“Do you ever wear a shirt? Or is that just for public outings and not in the compound?” Nat asked. She gestured to the half-dressed God of Thunder. He only beamed a smile of confidence, showing of his muscles more.

“Enjoying the sight, Natasha?” he said. She rolled her eyes and I snickered at her.

“What about Steve? Bucky? Sam? Are they bringing someone?” I asked, turning the conversation back to the original topic.

“Steve is bringing Sharon Carter, I believe. Bucky is going with Natasha. Sam has a reporter friend he’s planning on bringing. You know Wanda is going with Vision,” Tony answered.

“Bruce?”

“Sitting this one out,”

“Clint?”

“He’s bringing his wife. I’ve got Pepper before you ask. Which now leaves you, Thor and…Loki without a date,” he replied. Loki, without a date, I thought, weighing my options.

“Mina, you could accompany me to the party. No one could ignore the God of Thunder and his beautiful siren,” Thor offered. He still beamed with confidence, but my mind was still caught on taking Loki to the party.

“It’s probably too late to ask some civilian right?” I asked, drumming my nails on the counter, deciding whether or not to commit to my decision.

“What about Emmett?” Wanda suggested. I waved it away with the flick of my wrist.

“No, he doesn’t like events like these,”

“Who’s Emmett?” Tony and I spoke at the same time.

“Someone who I like to call around to fuck. He’s not important,” I answered his question. Silence filled the room as Tony, Thor, and Loki stared at me. Tony’s mouth had dropped open, his eyes had widened while processing the information. Loki arched an eyebrow, a smirk stretching his lips. Thor looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“You have fuck buddy?”

“I think I’ll go with Loki,” Again, Tony and I said at the same time.

“One more time, Tony and we’ll have to play jinx,” I warned. He gulped, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Did you say you’re taking Loki? Why on Earth would you do that?” Wanda asked. Thor’s smile had dropped once I had picked Loki. I think he would have preferred for me to take him.

“He looks good in a suit. Plus, no one ever invites him to formal events, and I’d hate to allow him to sit alone in his room,” I replied, deliberately walking up to Loki. I let my hand rest against his chest, stroking his skin with my thumb.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” he commented, flashing a mischievous grin. I think it meant to intimidate me, but I flashed one of my own at him.

“Looking forward to it,” I retorted. I winked, squeezing his bicep as I passed by. A mistake. I’d be eating those words at the party when I found myself in a sticky situation during the party itself.

1 Week Later

“Keep going. Yes. Just like that. Oh, god,” Emmett grunted, riding his orgasm high. He pulled out of me, rolling over to dispose of the condom. What was I thinking hooking back up with him? He called a few hours ago, begging to have a little fun.

I said, ‘Why not?’ I still had a few hours before the Avengers’ party. We were celebrating another anniversary of the team. Part of the reason why we needed dates for the evening. The other part was it was more of a formal event and those who were visiting preferred us paired up with someone. Thor had managed to call Jane Foster, a former flame of his, and invited her to join him; no romance required. We were also the highlight of the party, which made it very important to have a date.

Emmett and I picked a time, a little close to the time of the party for my liking. I thought maybe he’d be able to finish before I had to return to the compound to get ready. Emmett, however, had other plans. A longer foreplay, a little tying up to lead up to us fucking our brains out. More aptly put, it was up to me to fuck his brain out. Like always, he didn’t allow me to finish, my pussy throbbing for more.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I needed that,” Emmett said. I sighed and checked my phone. 5:50 p.m. Shit. I bolted up and dressed quickly to head back home.

“Hey, hey, hey. Where are you headed off to? I thought we could have dinner. Do this again,” he complained.

“I can’t. I’ve got a party to go to. I’m going to be late. It starts at 6:30,” I explained, pulling on my boots.

“Party? Need a date? We could fool around in your beloved compound if you like,”

“You wouldn’t like it. Too formal. Besides, I already asked someone else. Uh, I don’t think we should do this anymore,”

“Wait, what? Why not?” Emmett asked, sitting up.

“For starters, you won’t let me orgasm. Ever. Not since we started this relationship, which isn’t really a relationship. I’m sorry but you’re not doing it for me anymore,” I replied.

“Is this because of your date? Who is he, Mina? Are you interested in him?”

“It’s not any of your business. We’re not friends and we’re certainly not dating. I don’t need to tell you everything that goes on in my life,”

“It’s one of your Avengers friends isn’t it? Which one? Thor? Captain America? Everyone says they’re both dreamy. It must be one of them,”

“No. Not one of them. It’s not as if you care. For your information, it happens to be Loki,”

“I’d like to know who else you’re fucking. I didn’t know you were such a slut. Is he good in bed? Is he the real reason you’re ending this?” Emmett snapped. My blood was boiling during this argument.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, get over yourself. And your tiny cock. I’m not sleeping with him. To be honest, I’d rather fuck him than be with you anyway. Goodbye, Emmett,” I growled. I left, slamming the apartment door behind me.

Arriving back at the compound, I rushed to get ready. I had no time to masturbate, knowing I’d be extremely horny while at the party. I wiped down, getting rid of the sweat covering my body and changed into the dress planned for this evening. The dress in question was a floor length, dark green one, which had straps that crossed over each other to show off my back. It had an intricate gold design on it and would catch anyone’s attention.

I chose it specifically to please Loki, a nod to his signature choice of colors. I matched my makeup to the dress but kept it subtle so as to not hoard the gazes of the guests. I had just finished strapping on my heels when a knock sounded at my door.

“It’s unlocked. Come in,” I called out, standing up. Loki walked in, wearing an all-black suit, his hair slicked back from his face. It still curled slightly around his shoulders but in a nicer way, increasing my attraction to him. My body responded and I mentally cursed myself for not being able to satisfy my cravings.

“Ready to go?” he asked, offering me his arm. I nodded, taking it and he led us downstairs to the party.

It was a mistake meeting Emmett for sex, I thought. I was struggling to keep it together, I had to admit. The throbbing had intensified, and I had to fight showing any sign of my sexual frustration on my face. It had grown to the point where I was now fidgeting with my hands. Anywhere. Talking to people, waiting in line for dinner. Everywhere.

“Everything alright, Mina?” Loki asked me, as we waited for tonight’s dessert; Red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting and chocolate shavings.

“I’m fine,” I lied, hoping he wouldn’t see through it.

“Stop fidgeting. You’re making people nervous,” he whispered. His breath was cold against my skin and I shoved down the urge to push him down on the table and taking him in front of everyone. He placed a hand on the small of my back, I guess as a form of comfort. It did nothing for my arousal. Fuck, this is not good, I thought. It was now my turn to get a slice of cake and I quickly found a place to sit down, preferably away from him.

I found a spot next to Natasha, focusing on eating the cake in front of me. I clenched my legs together to stop the throbbing between my thighs.

“Something wrong?” Nat whispered in my ear. Damn, nothing ever gets by her, I thought. I leaned in as if to hug her.

“I met up with Emmett. As usual, he didn’t let me finish. I didn’t have a chance to rub one out,” I told her, low enough for her ears only.

“Ah. Please tell me you ended things with him,”

“I did. I’m trying to make it through the party,” Natasha squeezed me, releasing my body to throw away her plate. I did the same, wanting another drink to distract myself. Tossing it back, I went to sit back down; Loki had already stolen my seat.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap, darling?” he asked, flashing a smile. I hesitated, looking around to find a different spot. All the other seats were filled, leaving me no choice but to accept.

“Relax. I promise I won’t do anything inappropriate,” he told me. His arms coiled around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap. Instead of landing on my ass, I landed on his thigh; It hit me right between my thighs and I really regretted not dealing with my arousal sooner. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t have been a big deal. This wasn’t normal circumstances.

As I landed on his thigh, I had to bite back a moan as the friction jolted through me. I hid my face against his neck, my breath fanning on his skin.

“Darling? Is something the matter?” Loki asked.

“N-Nothing. Landed on your lap wrong, I think. That’s all,” I managed. I shifted to sit better on his lap; another mistake. My nails dug into his shoulder and a hushed ‘fuck’ escaped my lips.

“Mina look at me,” Loki demanded. He lifted my chin with a finger, examining me. I knew what he might have seen. Pupils blown with lust, shallow breathing as if I was panting, flushed cheeks.

“Will you excuse us? I believe Mina needs some air,” Loki addressed the group. They nodded and he helped me up, leading me to the third-floor balcony.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Is it me? Do I get you all hot and bothered?” Loki asked. He shut the sliding glass door, shutting out any eavesdroppers.

“It’s not you. Not really,” I responded.

“Then, who? Oh. Don’t tell me. It’s the one you’re sleeping with isn’t it? Did you two not finish?”

“He did. I didn’t have time to finish myself off,”

“Finish yourself off? He left you unsatisfied. Is this the first time he didn’t get you off?” he asked. He pressed closer, pinning my body against the concrete wall. I laughed, pressing my legs tight together.

“He never let me. I always took care of my own orgasm. In the privacy of my room,” I confessed. Thank god, I was already burning up. My face was already flushed from my arousal.

“He…why did you continue meeting if he denied you orgasms? You should always be allowed to cum my dear. Unless you’ve been super naughty. Honestly, you should have come to me. I would’ve let you cum over and over again,”

“I ended it today. I can’t stop the throbbing. It’s only gotten more intense as the night went on,” I said.

“Allow me to help you,” Loki suggested. I nodded and he pressed his lips against mine. They were cool to the touch, yet soft. I kissed him back, wanting more of him. My hands clung to his waist and he nipped my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I let him slip past my barriers, his tongue dominating mine. I groaned, arching into his body, losing control. Never breaking our kiss, Loki bunched up my dress, draping it over his pants. He nudged my thighs apart with his knee, pulling me forward; his thigh brushed up against my folds and I moaned at the feel of it.

“Loki…”

“Ride it, sweetheart. Get yourself off on my thigh. I know you want to,” he ordered. He pressed down on my hips, the pressure eliciting another moan out of me.

“But…your pants...will get soaked,” I panted.

“Nothing magic can’t fix. Don’t worry about anyone seeing. No one ever comes up here,” he said. He rubbed against my aching core, coaxing me more. Caving, I ground against his thigh, creating enough friction to increase my pleasure. I gripped his shoulders to keep steady, moaning as I rode his thigh.

“That’s it, my love. Keep going. I love the sound you’re making,” I rocked against him faster and faster until my orgasm rushed over me. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing hard, my fluids soaking his pants.

“Feel better?” he asked. I hummed my approval and he dropped his thigh, lifting my chin to devour my mouth with his own.

“Let me show you how it’s really done,” he growled. He unbuckled his belt, unzipping his pants. He shoved them down along with his underwear, an item I had decided not to wear this evening. Loki lifted me up on his hips, slamming his cock into me. He held me against the wall, pounding into me. He would switch paces, making sure to pleasure me as long as possible. He worked me to my climax until it flooded over me. Loki kept thrusting, reaching his a few minutes later, while I reached my third orgasm of the night. We were both breathing hard, staying in place until we came down from our high. He put me down on the ground, redressing while I fixed the angle of my dress; he brought forth a new pair of pants to cover the evidence we did anything.

“Anytime you feel the need to fuck, come find me,” Loki told me, kissing my lips again.

“I might take you up on that,” I said, taking his arm to rejoin the party downstairs.

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notisaidthefrogg-blog · 5 years

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Dear Octopath Exchange Creator...

Hello! I really appreciate you reading this letter and I eagerly anticipate your awesome creation! As a writer myself, I’ve probably made my requests/prompts very narrative-based; feel free to take inspiration from any part to turn into art if that is your strength! If you have any questions/would like to challenge any unreasonable requests, don’t hesitate to ask on anon!

(edit: this ended up being way longer than it had any right to be, I just tried to make up for any restrictions with a whole bunch of prompts, I probably rambled way too much, don’t feel pressured to read the whole thing)

First of all, I’ll just introduce myself briefly because I haven’t posted here before. I am Frogg (Nebulariffic on Ao3). You won’t have seen me around at all because I tend to lurk on sites like Tumblr, but I’ve been following the Octopath fandom since the game’s release and I’ve really loved the fan creations that have come from it! This is the first fandom exchange I’ve participated in here, and I’m hoping it will help me come out of my shell enough to post some of my other fan works!

But enough about me, time to get to my gift preferences! I do have some odd tastes by some standards, but as long as there’s no DNWs, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with! Again, if anything here seems unreasonable, just message me and we can come up with something.

I’ll start with what I really like:

- Friendship/found family fluff! I’m a sucker for some high quality friendships and nothing forges friendships like trekking across the continent together! I think that our favourite eight travellers have a lot of potential for fun interactions together, or even if it’s just one or two of them with some NPCs or other characters!

- On the other side of the spectrum, hurt/comfort featuring supportive pals just warms my heart! Cheery friend/s lifting spirits of sad friend/s? Wonderful. Multiple sad friends taking comfort in each other? Exquisite. Again, there’s so much potential with this crew to make something really touching!

- Character growth! This may or may not be self explanatory, but I love characters doing tricky things and becoming better people for it. Things like working up courage to admit fault, apologise, forgive, put aside differences, or generally facing and conquering fears!

- If you have a cool AU idea, I’d love to see it!

Now as for my dislikes, these are mostly things that I’d be okay seeing in general, but I’d just rather not have in something I was requesting.

- This one’s going to seem a bit odd/prudish, but I’d like for no non-canon romantic/sexual pairings. I’m fine with super-close ambiguous friendships with hugs and comfort, but I’ve always felt weird about non-canon ships. Besides, I think we could do with more platonic friendships!

- If you would like to go for a non-canon romantic pairing anyway, I’d be okay with that just as long as it stays Lite(TM). In particular, I really don’t like pieces focussed on marriage proposals, weddings and pregnancies (especially mpreg) - that’s just something I’ve never liked in fic/art.

- Please no excessive emphasis on past abuse... It’s okay for characters to remember dark moments in their pasts, but detailed flashbacks and characters bemoaning their existences just make me feel like garbage.

- I’d prefer no prominent OCs. Background roles are cool, but self-inserts/reader-inserts/fanchildren and the like break my immersion.

And for my DNWs:

- No smut/porn/nudity

- No rape/non-con

- No underage/incest

- No kinks

- No excessive violence

- No character bashing

- No major character death (unless it’s directly portraying/referencing a canon event)

I make that last point because you can’t very well have a Primrose-Chapter-1-centric moment without Yusufa, for example.

Now we get to the fun bit - prompts! I realise that I drive a hard bargain by requesting all eight travellers, and I’d be perfectly fine if you only want to focus on a subset of them. If you have an idea for something based on what I’ve already mentioned, then go for it, but if you’re stuck, I’ve got some prompts based on who I’d particularly like to see! I’ve also provided some general/AU prompts, and if you want to go with one of those prompts, you can include any number of the travellers as you please!

Alfyn - If I had to pick a favourite traveller, it would be this wholesome boy.

I’d love to see him helping out his friends if they get sick or injured, or if they just need someone to listen. Counsellor Alf is a very good Alf!

If you want to go for super-angst, I’d suggest something related to his Chapter 3. There’s so much to unpack in that chapter alone that the game couldn’t even touch on!

Olberic - I think Olberic is really under-represented in fan works, and I’d love to see more of him!

I know he has a softer side, particularly around children, and it would be cool to see that played against his protective aggression. Maybe the group gets attacked and Olberic has to defend them?

H’aanit - Another underrated character imo. If the prospect of H’aanit-speak is too intimidating, I wouldn’t be offended if you just had her talk normally.

H’aanit always strikes me as the kind of quiet, stoic character who doesn’t say much, but every one of her words is meaningful, if a little blunt. Perhaps some wacky antics will get her to open up? (wink wink nudge nudge)

Or maybe she accidentally offends someone and (with coaching from the rest of the team) gets enough social courage to apologise?

Does Linde count as an unrequested character since she’s not on my request list? I jest, but feel free to make something with her and/or her relationship with H’aanit if that strikes your fancy! If you want a Linde prompt, maybe something that contrasts her noble-fierce-wild-beast side with her big-domestic-cat side?

Other travellers - If you want to make something focussed on any of the other travellers, that’s perfectly okay too! I just don’t have any specific prompts for them (bc its 2:30am here and I’m tired). Just hit me up if you’d like prompts for a character I haven’t touched on here!

General/AU prompts -

Rescue Fic: Nothing says “I care about you” than “you were in X predicament and I got you out of it”. Ties in very well with the fear-facing I mentioned in my likes. The only question is, is it one or two people saving the rest of the team, or is it seven looking for their missing friend? You decide!

Innocent Bystander: This is one of my bigger prompts, so you can skip this idea if it’s too longwinded/complex. Team OCTOPATH blows through town, leaving innkeeper/barkeep OC (or other NPC) to chase after them and witness/reflect on/clean up after their shenanigans. I can elaborate on this idea further if you like, just shoot me an ask!

Modern AU: How would the backstories/jobs of the cast translate into modern day? How would they meet/become friends? I love seeing theories for this topic.

Band AU: You know that new Break, Boost and Beyond artwork? The one where half the cast is practically a rock band (looking at you Olberic)? Tell me how that happened. Go nuts.

I think I’m going to wrap up this letter here, hopefully some of this was useful! Of course, feel free to disregard my prompts if you’ve already got ideas, or hit me up by anon if you want me to elaborate on any of these ideas. And of course, have fun and thanks for making me a thing!

Sincerely, Frogg (Nebula)

#octopath exchange letter

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pitubea1910 · 6 years

Text

It Was All A Plan

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Featuring: Ned Leeds, MJ, Flash, Gwen, Aron (OC).

Words: 3549

Warnings: alcohol, teasing, fluff

Tags: @imabloodynerd @esoltis280

Request: requested by anonymous:

“Can you do one with Peter Parker and he is invited to MJ’s birthday party with her friends outside of school? (Ned and the decathlon team is invited too) And the reader knows MJ because they do dance together or something and they do this really awesome routine and somehow Peter got roped into learning the dance and one of the dance moves make him trip onto the reader. You can do the standard games if truth or dare and would you rather if you want to. Ends with fluff and teasing please.”

Notes: -

MASTERLIST

To say that you loved partying was not enough. You loved the music, the dance, spending time with your friends, taking photos and videos to remember the moments. You also enjoyed the drinking part but most of the times you just avoided it in order to avoid lectures at home. Your mum being an over protective doctor was a problem when it came to alcohol, drugs and all those ‘poisoning substances for your body’, like she used to call them. So you only drank when you were to stay at a friend’s house. And that was one of those days.

It was your best friend’s birthday party and she had invited you not only to the party but also to sleep over. MJ and you had been friends since you two were 7 years old and your parents decided to sign you up for dance class. At first you hated it. You used to sit on the floor throughout complete classes, but you ended up liking it. There was something about dance that made you feel free, careless, yourself. You knew it wasn’t the same for MJ, who was more of a book and chess girl, but she still loved it and you loved creating new routines by yourselves and show them during the classes. She was your first friend out of school and also your best friend, your mum loved her so when you told her you would to MJ’s birthday party and then you would stay over the night, your mum did not complain.

“I still can’t believe my parents let me have the house for this” MJ said while you two were getting ready.

“It’s your 17th birthday, MJ” you told her, “they had to” you added.

“You know how my father is” she rolled her eyes. Her father was quite strict when it came to her. He only wanted the best for her daughter but sometimes the pressure he put on her was too much.

“I’m sure your mum talked to him” you commented.

“Me too”, she nodded as she looked in the mirror once she was done getting ready. “So what do you think?” She asked turning to look at you.

You smiled as you saw the outfit she had chosen. It didn’t matter what this girl wore, she would always look great. Plus, she used make up in so rare occasions that when she did, she looked awesome, as natural as it was.

“You look great”, you complimented her. She smiled widely and looked into the mirror again.

“Thanks” she sighed before taking the phone to check for any messages. “Peter is coming” she smirked looking at you, making you blush all of sudden.

“Good” you mumbled, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

You had met Peter Parker a few months ago during some decathlon trials they have had. Afterwards, MJ had introduced you to the whole team but one of them stood out from the rest. Peter Parker. From the very first second he was extra nice to you, always making sure you didn’t feel left out while you were having lunch and offering to share a menu with you when no one else wanted to split. Ever since, you two had seen multiples times, always thanks to MJ who had seen the tiny crush you had on his friend and had always invited you every time she met up with the team.

“You’re blushing!” She exclaimed.

“I’m not” you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the actual colour of your face from your best friend.

“You like him, that’s okay” she shrugged sitting on her bed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you said applying some make before putting on your favourite necklace and turning to look at her. “So? How do I look?”

“Great” she smiled. “Peter will love it” she winked.

“I don’t care what Peter thinks” you quickly said, taking your phone from the bed just to have something to look at that wasn’t MJ.

“Whatever you say” she laughed and got up from the bed. “Let’s go and get everything ready. People will be arriving in an hour” she added.

You locked your phone and followed your friend out of her room, closing the door behind you. Once downstairs you started pouring snacks into the bowls: chips, crisps, crackers, popcorns; meanwhile, MJ was taking out plastics cups along with the drinks before she went upstairs to get the hidden booze she had managed to buy.

An hour later everything was settled and, just like MJ had said, people started arriving. You started the music and started saying hi to the people you already knew and introducing yourself to those you didn’t. Every time the bell rang your heart skipped a beat hoping it was Peter, but when everyone had already arrived and he was nowhere to be seen, you assumed he wouldn’t come. It was disappointing but you all were already used to these kind of things from him. He would disappear during hours just to come up with a stupid excuse and a million apologies.

People immediately started drinking and you found yourself refilling the bowls of snacks from time to time, so before you noticed you had had two cups of a mix MJ had made (gin, lemon and grenadine) and an hour had gone by.

“(Y/N)! Open the door, please!” MJ screamed from the other side of the living room where she was talking to Flash.

Quickly, you made your way to the door, hoping it wasn’t the police nor MJ’s parents. Your surprise was huge when you opened the door and found yourself face to face with Peter Parker and Ned Leeds. You had just assumed he wasn’t going to show up so seeing him all of sudden took the air out of your lungs.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Ned smiled making his way in like it was his own house.

“Hi” Peter said shyly, also walking in but staying by the door until you closed.

“I thought you weren’t coming” you commented, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“I had to do something first” he shrugged. “But I couldn’t miss MJ’s birthday” he added.

“I see” you mumbled awkwardly, not knowing what to say. “Um… well, drinks are in the kitchen and there are bowls of snacks all around the place” you informed him politely.

“Oh thanks” he smiled before turning, but he stopped midway and turned to look at you again. “You look great, by the way” he said with a wink.

The compliment took you with the guard down and you didn’t even have time to say thank you or anything before he turned around and walked towards the kitchen. Actually, he looked great as well.

Once you had recovered from the shock of seeing him, you forced yourself to move and join the party again, looking for MJ to spend some time with her, but she was the one who found you and judging by the huge smirk on her face, either she knew Peter was here or she had seen your interaction with him.

“I saw you” she said. There we go again, you thought. “You should’ve seen your face when you were talking to Peter” she laughed.

“You knew he was coming later, right?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Of course, I’m the host” she said cockily. “He texted me earlier”

“And you didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell me?” You asked, even when you already knew the answer to that.

“No, it was funnier this way” she said, laughing at your expression. “C’mon! He’s here, go and talk to him, don’t be shy” she encouraged you.

“I’m not shy” you defended yourself. “I just wouldn’t know what to tell him”

Before she could reply, Flash came out of nowhere, saying it was drinking games time and you were all up for it, as long as it meant you didn’t have to have this conversation any longer. You shrugged at your best friend and took a seat in the circle that had formed in the middle of the living room. Many people sat down, eager to play, while others just stood around, watching the players. MJ was just by your side, next to Flash, who was next to a girl named Gwen. Next to her was another boy whose name you didn’t remember and another one named Aron. There were a couple of other girls: Lizz and Sandy and suddenly Peter appeared out of nowhere, followed by Ned. You thought they wouldn’t sit and they would just stay there and watch, but you were more than surprised when Peter did take a seat just in front of you while Ned started talking to some guy you had never met without sitting.

“Okay guys, so what do you prefer…truth or dare, would you rather, never have I ever…?” Flash asked.

“I’m not drunk enough to play truth or dare, man” the one named Aron said.

“Amen to that” you nodded.

“Never have I ever?” Peter suggested.

“Good for me” you nodded in agreement. Then you felt a slight nudge from MJ which you chose to ignore. Once everyone else agreed the game started.

“Never have I ever…cheated on an exam” Flash said. Everyone took a sip. “I knew it Parker! I knew you weren’t that brilliant” he exclaimed.

“I was 10!” Peter exclaimed, defending herself.

“You cheated, that’s what counts” you shrugged. He narrowed his eyes at you but kept on smiling anyway. “Never have I ever… kiss two people on the same night”

Just two people drank with this one and a part of you was happy that Peter wasn’t one of them. He didn’t look like the kind of person who does that but still, you can never be sure. The game kept on going, question after question and everyone was getting tipsier and tipsier.

“Never have I ever have a crush on someone of this circle” MJ said.

You looked at her with your eyes wide open just to be face to face with her usual smirk. You were going to kill this girl. Taking a deep breath, you took a sip from the cup and looked up, just to see Peter drinking as well. You didn’t think too much about it since MJ had told you about that time when Peter had a crush on Lizz, but the fact that he was staring at you as he drank was confusing.

“Okay, let’s play something else!” You exclaimed and everyone agreed.

“What about truth or dare?” MJ asked.

“Maybe something else?” You asked, knowing it couldn’t be good to play that game when you were in such state and when MJ was even tipsier than you.

“Truth or dare!” Gwen exclaimed.

It looked like everyone wanted to play that damn game so you ended up agreeing as well. At first, every truth and every dare were stupid and easy to reply or do. Like what was your most embarrassing moment, sing something out loud, stuff like that. It was even fun when MJ and you were dared to show one of your routines and you decided to show the one you created for Who Run the World.

Once you finished the routine, you two were sweaty and exhausted but everyone started cheering and clapping around. You looked at MJ who just smiled at you before taking a seat in the circle once again.

“I need a drink” you said getting up again to refill your cup, taking MJ’s cup with you as well.

The kitchen was empty due to everyone being in the living room, watching the game or just enjoying the party. Actually, you thanked this little time to yourself since sometimes a party could be a bit overwhelming. But your peace didn’t last long.

“What you just did was amazing”, you looked behind your back and blushed when you saw it was Peter.

“Thanks” you said pouring some gin in your cup. “We created it a long time, I’m surprised we still remembered it” you added.

You gave the bottle of gin to Peter who was waiting for it, and took the lemon one, pouring some to mix it before the grenadine. Peter copied your mix in silent. You wanted to say something, maybe something clever or funny, but it looked like words were stuck in your throat.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked turning his body to face you, leaning against the counter. You looked at him for a moment and nodded. “When MJ said who had had a crush on someone of that circle you drank…who was it?”

You looked at him again, panicking, as you tried to find a way out of that hole you had just fell into. There weren’t many possible answers since you had just met most of the group that was out there. Peter kept on looking at you, waiting for the answer to his question. If it wasn’t because of the amount of alcohol he had consumed, he would have never drop the question. Hell, he would have never followed you into the kitchen. He saw you gulping before taking a sip from your mix, still not answering.

“That’s…kind of private…” you mumbled, not being able to look at him.

“Oh… I’m sorry” he quickly said. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable” he added.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just…embarrassing” you sighed.

“Why?” He frowned confused.

“I don’t think he likes me back” you shrugged.

“That’s just stupid” he stated. “Any guy would like you. I mean, look at you, you’re gorgeous, funny, intelligent…” he felt himself blushing as you looked up to him so he looked away.

“Thanks” you said. Silence overcame the two of you again. A silent broke by your fake cough. “We should go back” you said once you had finished filling up MJ’s cup.

“Sure” he nodded and followed you out of the kitchen.

You saw everyone was still seated on the floor but they looked like they were just talking instead of playing which you thanked, since you were a bit tired of drinking games. But when you joined them, it looked like they really had been talking, especially MJ.

“We have a dare for the two of you” she announced to Peter and you. You looked at her when you handed her the cup and narrowed your eyes. She was planning something. Something not good. Something probably embarrassing.

“When did any of us chose to make a dare?” Peter asked also frowning.

“Shut up” MJ said. “(Y/N), I dare you to teach Peter that routine”

“What?” You frowned. “What kind of dare is that?”

“Just a bit! The chorus part for example” she smirked.

“Well, that doesn’t sound bad” Peter commented getting up after taking a long sip from his drink. “I’m totally up for it, if you are” he said offering his hand for you to take it.

You glared at MJ but she was just smiling innocently. With a sigh, you put the cup down, not saying it out loud but actually wanting to do it. With a shaky hand, you took Peter’s who led you to where you and MJ had danced just some minutes ago. The conversation you two had was still in the air, tensing both of you but you shook it off and started showing him the steps. He was actually quick to understand them and do them, but you knew the tricky one when you had to lift your leg as high as you could, like kicking the air, and then spin, would be a bit harder.

“So you have to take the impulse from the kick to do the spin, you see?” You explained as you showed him the move.

“I think so” he nodded slowly, his forehead brightening with sweat. “It should be easy”

“It should be, but you’re a bit drunk” you shrugged.

“So are you” he smirked.

“But I can take more than you” you teased placing your hands over your hips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, darling” he winked, making your stomach flip when he moved a bit closer to you.

“Go ahead, Parker, I’m waiting” you crossed your arms now.

Everyone had got tired of waiting until you showed him the routine so they were back to their conversations. Some of them were even playing, but no one was paying attention to you two which you truly thanked. You didn’t like being the centre of attention. Peter took his cup and took a long sip before placing it over the table and getting ready to make the dance move. Surprisingly enough, he had no problem with the kick, which showed how flexible he actually was. But when he had to do the spin, the alcohol took the best of him and made him trip over his own feet, falling on the ground and taking you down with him on the process. Luckily you didn’t heat your head too hard.

“Damn” Peter mumbled.

“Shit” you chuckled with your eyes closed as the whole room spun.

“I’m sorry” you heard him saying.

When you opened your eyes you realised his body was on the top of yours and you could feel his whole body against yours, just like he could feel yours. Both of you blushed as you look into each other’s eyes.

“For a first time, it wasn’t that bad” you said. He laughed quietly and got up, helping you to get on your feet.

“You want a drink? You know…as compensation” he shrugged.

“I think we both already had enough to drink” you smiled. “But maybe we can go to the backyard and take some air? Away from all this” you suggested, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

Peter smiled widely and nodded, letting you go first. On his way to the back door he looked around for MJ, who immediately caught his eye and gave him a thumbs up. MJ and Ned were the only ones who knew about the crush he had on MJ’s best friend and they had actually been the ones who had encouraged Peter to talk to you that night. It hasn’t been easy but with a few drinks he had relaxed and was on his way to the backyard with you, where you would finally be able to be alone.

“I needed this” you mumbled looking up at the sky when you took a seat on the porch stairs. Peter sat next to you and sighed.

“Me too” he nodded. “Did it hurt?” He asked, talking about the fall you two just had.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay” you smiled at him. “It was too much to ask for a first time anyway” you shrugged.

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m an incredible dancer” he said making you laugh.

“You’re not bad” you teased looking at him with a smile that he returned.

He looked into your eyes and laughed a little before looking down at your lips. He noticed they had a light shade of red, probably because of the grenadine in your drink. It didn’t matter why it was, all that mattered was that looking at them had been a mistake and now all Peter could think about was kissing you. He just wished he was brave enough.

“You know… about what you asked me before in the kitchen” you said looking away from him. You weren’t really sure about it, but it really looked like a good moment to drop such bomb. Plus, the way he had been looking at you had to mean something. You couldn’t be that insane. “You know…about who I like” you explained.

“Oh, yeah” he nodded looking down at his hands for a few moments. Maybe he was planning on making a move on you, but he suddenly froze. What was he expecting? That you were going to say that he was your crush?

“It’s you, Peter”, you just said, without thinking it twice.

“What?” He asked looking at you.

You didn’t think you could repeat what you had just said so instead, you leaned forward and placed your lips over his, slowly and a bit scared. What if you had mistaken everything? What if he pulled away? All your doubts were solved when you felt one of his hands on your cheek and his lips kissing you back. You knew it was cliché but you felt fireworks all around you and even inside of you. You were kissing Peter Parker and he was kissing you back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ” he whispered when you two pulled apart. You gave him a confused look. “She told me to make a move tonight” he shrugged.

And it all made sense. Why he had been teasing so much lately, the reason behind all those smirks, the dare, making you open the door when he came. It all had been a plan and you didn’t know if you wanted to kill her or kiss her. Probably the second one but you would never tell her, you would just kill her.

“I will kill her” you laughed closing the distance between you two and kissing him again.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #tom holland #x reader #reader insert #imagine #pitubea #spiderman homecoming #marvel #marvel imagine

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btsinspirationtakesme · 6 years

Text

Prompt: “My dick feels like it’s about to fucking fall off, I haven’t fucked anyone because of you!”

Description: Fuckboi! Jungkook series continues!

AN: I am taking prompts, they can be 1-2 lines and you can send me separate OC profiles too!

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

You thought Jeon Jungkook was successfully out of your life. A small part of you treasured how you had the best sex of your life with him, even though the experience for him was probably apart of some twisted little fantasy to get past on his fuck boy conquests of college.

You were so wrong.

“Did you drug me?” Jungkook asked from behind as you walked out of lit class and went to the nearest coffee vendor.

This was the 10th question Jungkook had asked you in the past week about the quote ‘out of this world’ sex you had both had at the party. It was also the last straw.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” You sighed.

“My dick feels like it’s about to fucking fall off, I haven’t fucked anyone because of you!” He hissed in your ear to get your attention. You saw the frustration laced on his face, anyone else would say he was looking at you with the gaze of a mad man in love…or lust. You looked at the way his lips slightly curved when he was angry a little too long before snapping out.

“Why are you even telling me this? Don’t you have the college sorority sisters to help you out? Go tell them about your little problem!” You yelled, fire in your eyes as you were blinded by the thought of Jungkook’s raging, engorged member tucked away in his tight jeans. Your mouth watered.

Snap out of it, Y/N!

“You’re eyes are dilating, Y/N. I’m sure you could help me out.” He said softly in your ear this time boring his eyes into yours. Shit, you were obvious.

“Two americano’s on the house. You two look great together.” The kind vendor that you had liked for the past three years said, but now she had just become your worst enemy. She placed two americano’s in front of you which Jungkook took with a bunny smile thanking the vendor. You swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks, Ajumma.” You smiled brightly before you shot a disinterested look to Jungkook as you started walking away from him by the coffee cart. He looked at you with awe before telling the vendor how cute you were. You felt red rise up your cheeks, he really loved riling you up.

Later that night, you were nestled in with your housemates watching a movie. Thinking about Jungkook out of the blue had become a regular part of your life now, like when in the movie the protagonist fell into the arms of the super hero. You normally sneered at stuff like that, but you were suddenly reminded of Jungkook’s strong arms as they pounded into you…

It was that bad.

You didn’t even have time to register the tense atmosphere around you, where all your housemates were looking at you.

“Is it true, Y/N?” Maddy asked, a look of curiosity on her face.

‘True what?” You asked, taking another handful of popcorn and stuffing your face as your eyes still focused on the scree in front of you.

Maddy nudged Miranda.

“I can’t deal with this tension.” Miranda sighed before bursting. “How long have you and Jungkook been together? I mean, not to be rude or anything but we kind of are your housemates, and it would be nice to find out from you since we’ve been living together for the past 3 years and Jungkook is kind of a big deal.” You stopped eating your popcorn midway through.

“What the- how did- no?!” You stuttered in astonishment looking at both of them.

“She’s lying.” Maddy said.

“I’m not fucking dating Jeon Jungkook!” You yelled. “Where are these rumours coming from?”

Maddy and Miranda looked at each other with confusion.

“You don’t know?” They asked in union.

“Tasha from Physics and I are partners for a project so we met up a few days ago. She’s in the sorority too and was telling me about how Jungkook’s been rejecting all of his usual fuck buddies lately because of you. Someone saw you two kissing at a party a few weeks ago before going into a room. He hasn’t gotten with anyone since. We all thought you two were probably a thing.” Maddy explained.

“But that mean’s he’s so into you! This is Jungkook- fuck boy extraordinare who hasn’t fucked anyone because he’s so dick whipped for you!” Miranda said, lifting herself up on the couch.

“Are we still in high school? You guys I can’t deal with people talking about me!” You said, your heart beat rising in realisation that people were talking about you. You hated it, you could literally do anything as long as people weren’t talking about you.

“So you two did get together?” Maddy confirmed.

You nodded weakly. “I mean, he was really, really good and I can’t stop thinking about him but people are talking about me! Sorority girls too, you know how viscous they can get!” You said, internally hyperventilating.

“Awh, babe I’m sure it’s not that bad. I mean he’s not use to girls like you so he probably needs to think a little before going back to his usual game.” Miranda came over and hugged you, but you were starting to get a headache as you thought more and more about how the hot topic of the sorority house- Jungkook was now involved with you. All you wanted to do was avoid that sort of crowd, but by sleeping with Jungkook who couldn’t fucking move on, you were on their hit list probably.

‘I just don’t want to be talked about in the sorority, you know how it gets there?” You said, pushing your head in your hands.

Your housemates tried to spend the rest of the night consoling you but it was no use. They knew you tried to keep yourself away from stuff like that. The next morning you rushed into class after spending a sleepless night debating whether to call Jungkook and tell him that he needed to move on, since he did put his phone number into your mobile when you weren’t looking in class. You decided against it eventually, you didn’t have the energy too because the thought of his velvety voice on the phone would make your knees weak.

“Y/N, right?” You had come back from asking the professor a question at the very end of the lecture when everyone had mostly gone, when a pretty girl you recognised from the sorority house asked. Shit. At least you were prepared now, thanks to your housemates who had coached you on how to act.

“Stay away from Jungkook.” She hissed in your ear before grabbing your hand and squeezing your wrist with her sharply manicured hands a little too much that you nearly screamed.

Your eyes widened as you realised the bitch had scratched you. Your mouth dropped because of all things, you didn’t know sorority sisters were that bad.

“D- did you just scratch me?”

“Jungkook doesn’t go with girls like you. He needs a girl that can keep his interest.” She glanced your body up and down and winked, before sauntering away without any sign of remorse. You sat back down in your chair in shock. Were you still in high school? This shit couldn’t happen at college, you didn’t work your ass off to get to a place like this and have girls scratch your wrist.

You looked at bloodied scar. a straight red line. Your mouth dropped ever further.

Taking your phone out, you debated on what to do. You knew you had to call someone, because you couldn’t just walk out of a lecture hall around campus with blood dripping from your wrist. Taehyung…Taehyung was a good option, but you thought about who caused this to happen in the first place.

With little thought, you pressed Jungkook’s name.

“Hello, Y/N. I hope you’re calling with some good news.” He answered cockily on the second ring.

The words struggled to come out of your mouth and you realised calling him was a stupid idea. What would he do anyway?

After a pause Jungkook spoke again.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” His voice had morphed into worry now, sensing something was wrong since nothing came out of your usually cocky mouth. The worry in his voice, something that you never knew existed made you even more tongue twisted.

“Y/N? Speak to me. Where are you?”

“Hey, do you know what class Y/N/L/ had?” You heard him ask someone close by, who answered he thought you might be in the same class as one of his other friends. He was right.

“Are you still there? Stay on the phone, I’m coming.” Jungkook said, and you heard him move around.

“I’m in the next building, I’ll be there in like, 20 seconds.” Jungkook said, and you were even more confused now with the worry in his voice. He shouldn’t be worried. He should have just laughed and hung up. You expected him to laugh and hang up.

“Y/N!” You saw Jungkook sprint into the empty lecture hall and up to you. He couldn’t understand the small feeling that started building inside him when he saw you sitting alone looking scared.

Coming up to where you were sitting, he scanned your features before landing at the bloodied slit on your wrist.

“Fuck.” He whispered, sitting down and taking your small wrist in his hands.

“What happened here?” He asked softly, soothing your hand. His hand felt warm and inviting. It send shockwaves of pleasure down your spine.

When your hand was warmed up from his soothing, you snapped out of your initial shock and took your hand away.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I should have known they’d do this.” He said, looking into your eyes with regret.

“You knew?” You asked, horrified.

“Not like how you think. Sorority girls are…kind of wild when it comes to guys they get obsessed with…this is their way of telling someone to back off.” He said, training his eyes on you wrist.

“That’s completely fucked.” You said, even more horrified with this secretive little practice that existed. Even more fucked was that they could get obsessed with someone so much that when they rejected them, they decided to harm people as a threat.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Jungkook asked even more softly, taking out a box of plasters from his back pocket. That surprised you. He took your wrist again.

“Do you carry that around for all the girls that get scratched by lunatics because of you?” You asked sarcastically trying to take your mind off the pain of your wrist, not answering how much the scratch hurt because it was still pretty big and stinging.

Jungkook ripped the wrapping off gently and placed the plaster on your cut, smoothing his fingers over the pink rectangle.

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirked meeting your eyes. The corners of your mouth curved up involuntarily.

A moment of silence washed over you both.

“This shit won’t happen again, Y/N.” Jungkook said sincerely. These sororities were ancient and they had weird codes that he had subjected himself too by fucking nearly every girl in that group some way or another. Y/N had to bear the brunt of it now he had an issue with being unable to think about anyone else because of her. Jungkook knew it from the beginning when she was so different from the girls he usually went for, and he thought Y/N was just an flavour to get rid of.

That clearly didn’t happen.

“You kind of need to stop coming after me for that to happen.” You pointed out, grabbing your bag as you prepared to get up.

“They’ll stop if they know we’re together. If they see you with me, they won’t think it’s just a rumour and they’ll leave you alone.” Jungkook said taking your hand in his and meeting your eyes with determination. He feel uncomfortable with the thought of you having to face those girls again because of him. Was it regret he was feeling? If he didn’t start this, you wouldn’t have to worry about some girls that didn’t grow up from high school.

He fucked around himself, but he wouldn’t bash a guys head out for fucking someone he fucked every now and then. Well, if that person was you…Jungkook sighed. He couldn’t resist you, your flavour was becoming his favourite. That’s probably what it was. It couldn’t be anything else. You were cute, and very funny, and in your own world most of the time when he caught you ever since you screamed at him at your party- but Jungkook was probably, just really interested by you. Surely that was it.

“You mean…like pretending?” You asked, wanting clarification. He had a point, everyone knew those girls could get wild when it came to a girl they didn’t want with their ‘idol’ guy. It was fucked up.

“Depends what you mean by pretending. Pretend sex…could be arranged.“ Jungkook said, his eyes darkening as he pulled your body closer to his.

“You want to fake date me but have sex on the side?”

“The regular, the better.” He winked. “I know you want me too, I can practically feel you dripping from here Y/N.”

Your ear was starting to love the sound of his voice so close to it. You clenched your legs at the sound of his voice.

“Okay.” You said, giving in to what you wanted for once. He would probably break your heart in the process, but you guessed the sex would compensate.

“Only until they move on though. When they start forgetting, this thing is finished.” You said, trying to regain your head sense again after feeling dizzy with his sweet voice in your ear.

“No problem.” Jungkook answered, taking his phone out. He didn’t know why he was going to such lengths, a simple walk around a party with his arm on around your neck would do and they’d just back off. He became certain that he just wanted to find out more about you, there had to be something he didn’t like or was repulsed by so he could go back to what he was use to- something that was not you.

“Wait- what are you doing?” You asked, seeing Jungkook turn his phone to his camera selfie mode.

“Smile, I need a new display picture.” Oh. This was to make his project more believable.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I haven’t changed this display picture since I started college. It’s a pretty big deal, shouldn’t you know as a true millennial?” He teased, moving closer to you and positioning his phone.

You rolled your eyes before putting on a big smile.

“Why aren’t you taking it?” You asked still smiling with gritted teeth. He was smiling himself, beautifully might you add. He looked too good to be true.

You moved your face to ask him why but as soon as you moved your head his face tried to pull a ridiculous face. Your laugh was then interrupted by his lips settling on yours quickly, slowly easing the smile that you had out.

Click.

Your mouth was just getting use to the taste of him and you began to realise how parched you felt from not having his taste when he slowly pulled you.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” He said with a bunny smile, before checking the candid picture of him kissing your smiling face and setting it as his display picture. Inside, a small part of you was screaming. Jeon Jungkook was to everyone else, officially your boyfriend. The other part of you realised he kissed you, and you…like was an understatement.

You hoped that Jungkook wasn’t going to play you so well that when he left after getting his final fix of you, you’d be left crying on the side walk.

“Jungkook?” You asked, your voice smaller than he had ever usually heard it.

‘Can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?”

Don’t break my heart too much.

“Just don’t over do it.”

#bts reactions #jungkook #fuckboi kook #jungkook fic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bangtan fic #fuckboy jungkook

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endless-vall · 7 years

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What if? - part four - Val & Claudius fanfic

Summery: What if we got closure not only for Kenna, but for the other characters too? Kenna appoints her master of arms, Val, to a joint training mission in Abanthus, with Fydoria. Val meets old friends and reconnects with them, and finds out a few interesting details. Author’s note: It took me way too long to continue this series, but inspiration just hit me out of nowhere. This piece is Val centeric, but also tells the story of her and Claudius. If you don’t know who Claudius is, I recommend reading my other fanfic of them here, and checking out my fanart here �� ANYWAY, this piece also explores other characters from The Crown and The Flame, and what happened with them (Diavolos, Adder, Eda & Annelyse), and also features a new oc! 😊 Part One, Part Two, Part Three.

“Val, a moment?” Kenna was walking towards her with her son Adrian in her arms. The little brat was Val’s own favorite little angel, even though she would never admit that. Val never liked kids too much, they were always too loud and caused way too much trouble, but the little guy won her over from the first moment she saw him. Val stopped the training session with a few of her new recruits, all of them falling to the ground, hitting it hard, and thanking the lord for a little break, finally. Kenna couldn’t help but chuckle, as Val approached her. “You should go easier on them.” She suggested, while handing her little prince to Val, who seemed very excited to have a few moments with him. “Huh! y’think? They’ll think i’m turning into a softie!” Val protested, while playing and amusing Adrian. “Right.” Kenna noted, making Val stop at her tracks, and look up at her. “Because right now they think you’re vicious.” Kenna motioned to the hand shadow bunny Val was showing to Adrian. Val snored at her, but nodded. “They might get the wrong idea.” She agreed. Kenna grinned, and ruffled Adrian’s hair. Adrian didn’t seem too happy with that, and made an adorable pout. “Can you blame me?” Val asked, as she kissed Adrian on his cheek, making the pout-y face fade away, and a huge smile spread instead of it. “Not at all.” Kenna agreed. “Well, as much as I adore this little guy over here, i’m sure this isn’t why you wanted to talk to me.” Val focused on Kenna now, while putting Adrian down. The little curious prince wondered out loud in awe, pointing at the stables and calling “Hoses!! hor... horses!!!” excitedly. “You’re right. And you’re also right, my little sunshine, there are horses in there. Do you want to go check that out with me later?” Kenna asked Adrian, who nodded enthusiastically and waited eagerly. “I wanted to have a word because king Diavolos sent this out.” Kenna now turned back to Val. She gave Val a piece of paper, looking like a royal letter. “What does it say? Is he declaring war again? Because I swear--” Val got heated for a moment, before Kenna shook her head and waved her hands in protest “No... No.” She giggled a little. “It’s alright. It’s just an invitation.” She said, showing Val the details on the letter. “Oh.” Val nodded. “So... why are you showing this to me? I mean, with all due respect, shouldn’t you be showing this to Raydan? Or your advisers? Or even Jackson, for that matter?” Val wondered out loud. “No, silly, this is an invitation for a joint training session.” Kenna explained. “Ohhh...” now it made sense. “Between Abanthus, Stormholt, and... Fydoria.” Kenna explained further, winking at the end. “Uh, why would you say it like that?” Val was getting suspicious. Kenna could’ve decided to send anyone else from her army. While Val was appointed master of arms, she certainly wasn’t the best candidate to represent Stormholt at official matters. And also, pointing out Fydoria like this, made her suspect Kenna had something else on her mind, too. “Oh, no reason. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just... You know. Interesting people might be there.” And with that, Kenna left, not giving away any more details, and walking hand in hand with Adrian towards the stables. “I hate it when she does it!” Val ranted out loud, to herself. She looked back at the group of soldiers she was trying to teach some basic moves to, realizing they were too beated to continue, and decided to call it a day.

When Val laid in her bed at night, she finally had some time to think about what Kenna could mean. “Pick your best group, you’ll leave tomorrow, first thing in the morning!” Kenna noted to her, somewhere along the day, after their talk. What could Kenna mean? Fydoria... Interesting people... Who was she kidding? Val knew what Kenna meant. She knew alright. The last time Val saw him, was at Tevan and Zenobia’s wedding. Kenna caught her looking too longingly at the man officiating the wedding. Then, Val told her about the bond and friendship they formed, and about a certain night at a tavern that still gave her butterflies in her stomach. But other then sharing a drink, and congratulating him on his promotion, they didn’t exchange much words that evening. Ugh. This was stupid. And now Kenna was sending her, of all people, when she knew he’d be there? It’s not like she was thinking about him, all the time. She had flings with both man and woman in the past few years. But nothing of those things lasted, and she was fine with it that way. But when she did think of him... when they met... her heart fluttered. Val decided to gather her best group, just in case, but to also have a talk, with Kenna, in the following morning. To her luck, she didn’t need to look for Kenna, or even worse, wake her up. Kenna came out, along with Raydan, to wave them goodbye before their journey. “Kenna!” Val leaped to the front, when she saw them getting out of the castle. She was busy handling last preparations before heading out, but once she saw Kenna, she knew she had to ‘confront’ her about this matter. “Oops, that might’ve came out too excitedly.” Val blushed, when she remembered they were in front of many subject of Kenna. While she and Kenna were still friends, and Kenna never made her feel like she was less of anything, for being a former mercenary, or for not a from a noble family line, but Val had to remind herself sometimes that they weren’t on their journeys anymore, and Kenna wasn’t a queen without a kingdom anymore. Kenna just chuckled, and motioned her to get closer, like this wasn’t a big deal. “What, did you want a real hug before saying goodbye?” Kenna teased her, while Raydan found the situation really amusing, from her other side. “What? This is ridiculous. You know exactly what this is about.” Val eyed Kenna, who shrugged innocently. “I have no idea what are you talking about.” She played her role, but Raydan’s chuckle gave her away. “Kenna!” Val grumbled, not too loudly. “Fine! fine!” Kenna admitted defeat, bursting into laughter with her husband. “I’m happy you find torturing me amusing, you guys.” Val looked at both of them, staring them down. “C’mon Val. Don’t you think you’re exaggerating? I wouldn’t go as far as saying this is torturing you.” Raydan was the first to compose himself, and reply to her. Kenna followed closely after, nodding and agreeing with him. “You’re making fun of me, now ya?” Val sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just sending you on a training mission.” Kenna nudged Val in her shoulder. “Now come on, you should be going.” She smiled, pulled Val into a quick hug, and then turned her around and pushed her towards her soldiers. “Fine.” Val muttered under her breath, and then got on her horse. “Let’s head out!” She called out, all of her soldiers riding behind her. “You’ll meet the Fydorian troops on the way. Then you’ll head together to Abanthus. You should find them by nightfall, but if not - here’s a communication orb.” Val remembered Kenna’s words, as she watched the beautiful purple orb in her side pocket. She wondered who would be on the other side of it. Or maybe, she waited to finally meet him again. Just like he was reading her mind, the purple orb lighted up and a familiar voice came out of it. “Val? Lady Valentina? Is that really you?” Claudius voice rang in her ears. Her heart beat fast in her chest, but she wouldn’t have it that way. “I though I told you to not call me that way, a long time ago. And I warned you about using my full name. I knew it was a mistake telling you about it.” She took the orb out of her pocket and answered him. “I deeply and sincerely apologize. I know I should’ve waited to meet you by nightfall, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to hear your voice. Even if you’re just scolding me.” He teased, and Val rolled her eyes, defiantly satisfied. “Oh. I’m not just scolding. You know i’m not just all talk. You’ll be punished when we bump into each other again.” Val warned him again. She heard Claudius chuckle huskily. She could imagine him smirking right now. “I’m counting on that.” He finally whispered. Val blushed at first, then bite her lip. Finally, she composed herself, all in a matter of a few seconds. She was glad she was leading the group, since no one saw her flushing right now. “I’m going to beat you ass, you know.” She said back. “Are you kidding? I was waiting for this re-match for years!” Claudius called excitedly, and Val bursted into laughter. “See ya later when i’ll be kicking your ass, dummy.” Val rolled her eyes, and put the purple orb in her pocket again. By nightfall, as promised, Stormholt troops met the Fydorian troops. They all set camp and started bonfires. Claudius embraced Val in a bear-hug, and she hugged tightly back. After boosting their soldiers moral, the two leaders went a little further from the group. They got to the edge of a low cliff, watching the starry night before them. They both sat down, and their hands accidentally brushed against each other. It caught them both by surprise, and they both shot their eyes from their hands to each other’s eyes. In the darkness, it was hard to tell, but both were blushing. While they’ve shared a kiss before, this was entirely different. They weren’t drunk right now, and weren’t on the verge of possibly dying tomorrow by a lightning monster. Val opened her mouth. She didn’t know what to say, but she had to say something, right? “Uh...” Was all that came out of Val’s mouth. “So how about that re-match?” Claudius asked, suddenly. “Good idea.” Val swallowed, jumping back on her legs, letting go of his hand. He got up as well, and prepared himself, getting into a fighting position. “I can’t believe it! You beat me with my own move!! UGH!” Val complained, as Claudius sat on her back, holding both of her hands behind her. “What can I say? You’re a good teacher. Or do you want to call it cheating and demand another re-match?” Claudius teased. “Oh, don’t get too cocky. I’ll defiantly defeat you if you’ll give me another chance.” She said, as he released her. “You sure? I got pretty good at thi-” Before he could finish his line, Val leaped towards his, tackling him down and holding his arms under her legs. That way, he was completely immobilized. Under her mercy. “Hey! this was un-fair. We didn’t say we started. I was totally off-guard.” Claudius protested. “A warrior should always be on-guard.” Val simply noted. “I guess I still have a lot to learn.” Claudius agreed. Val freed her hold of his hands, but still stayed on top of him, straddling him. “I guess you do.” She said, and finally got off him. They went back into camp, and each went into their tent. Their journey continued, and they finally made it to Lykos. A messenger announced their arrival, and King Diavolos quickly came out, greeting them. “Hello, Val. Claudius. It’s nice to see you again.” Diavolos approached them, shaking their hands. “Diavolos,” Val had to give credit to the man. He had proven himself and trust-worthy ally, and a honorably man. Something Val couldn’t ever possibly imagine happening. But a few good years had passed since the end of the war, and Diavolos haven’t disappointed them even once. Claudius bowed slightly, showing his respect too. “You must be tired. The staff will show you to your rooms. We’ll assemble later again, for the training session details.” Diavolos said, and none of them had any complaints. When they gathered again, after re-freshening, Val looked around the courtyard. “Where’s Adder?” she wondered out loud, searching around Diavolos. “Oh, we don’t see her that much these days. After my sister got out of the way, me and Adder got to agreements a lot easier, and she left the ruling part for me. She can run the Black Asps from wherever she wants, and she spends most of her time in Aurelia now.” Diavolos told her. “But you probably shouldn’t mention it near Eda.” He advised, eyeing one of his captains. “Oh. They broke up?” Val asked. While she didn’t remember if Adder and Eda were ever really official, she did remember seeing them dancing together at a few celebrations, as well as in Tevan and Zenobia’s wedding. “They did.” Diavolos confirmed. “Why Aurelia, of all?” Claudius joined in the conversation. “Well, let’s just say, Adder loves gold. Or, more specifically, a certain woman in gold.” Diavolos had a sly smile, while Val realized what he was saying. “No way! Adder and Annelyse got together?” She asked, making sure no to be too loud and upset that captain. “Well, i’m not sure about how Annelyse feels about it, and frankly, i’m not really updated on this subject, regularly. But Adder made it very clear how she feels about her. And, since she does spend a lot of time there, I guess it’s possible.” Diavolos shrugged. It was clear he didn’t know anymore about those two. Diavolos appointed Eda as the head of the training mission on Abanthus side, and left for his businesses. Along with Val and Claudius, the three agreed on a training technique, and started to practice. After a long day of practicing, even Val was ready to call it a day. She was known for being hard on her soldiers, but with good intentions. She was always pushing them to their limits, to be their best-selves. But handling all three groups was getting... exhausting. “Val!” Claudius called, as he and a few other soldiers were heading out, last but not least, from the training arena. “would you like to join us in the tavern?” he asked. A knowing smile spread on his lips. “Oh, I don’t think I could handle it.” Val admitted. “Oh no, are you feeling well?” He checked her for fever, jokingly. “Does the mighty Val refuse a drink just to head to bed early?” He continued. “Hey!” She scoffed. “I’m not saying i’m heading to bed early! i’m just saying I might need to cut on the booze for tonight to stay focused for tomorrow.” She added. “Alright. Boys, you should head without me.” Claudius called back to the group of soldiers, who disappeared so fast Val couldn’t even question it. “Who said I invited you to stay in with me?” She raised an eyebrow, teasingly. “I just thought you’d appreciate the company.” Caludius tried. “Maybe you’re right.” Val punched his arm lightly, and then he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She enjoyed the touch, and leaned into it. “Where to?” A long moment had passed, until Claudius broke the silence and asked. “I think I saw a cozy spot in the garden, by the fountain, but it might be occupied.” Val suggested. “We could check it out.” Claudius nodded, and they started walking in that direction. They arrived at the fountain, to find Diavolos talking to a stranger. She was a beautiful woman with light hair, golden locks turned into a gentle hairbun, wearing a fancy blue dress. They were too far away to figure out what they were talking about, but it seemed like she said something snarky, and Diavolos chuckled, putting a hand on the back of his neck. The unknown woman raised her eyebrow at him, and then shrugged and took off. Diavolos immediately followed her, calling after her. “Lady Felicia, wait up!” They didn’t seem to notice Val or Claudius, and both caught their places near the fountain. “Lady Felicia, huh?” Val noted, before scooting closer to Claudius. “She looks familiar. If i’m not mistaken, she’s from Fydoria’s noble families. She’s known for being cunning and hard working, don’t let that gentle angelic appearance fool you.” Claudius told her. She sent a questioning look his way, but he just chuckled and shrugged. “I know everything King Tevan needs to know. This includes insight about the noble families.” Val nodded. “Interesting. And do you find Lady gentle angelic appearance attractive?” Val asked, not sure where she was going with this. It’s not like she was jealous, she had nothing to be jealous of, and even if she did, she didn’t have any right to be. “Hm... Pretty? sure. Attractive? Nah.” Claudius simply answered. Val was a little shocked, but it wasn’t showing on her. “Personally, the woman I find attractive, is a little more... rough.” He said, looking directly into her eyes. Well... now, her shock was defiantly showing. Along with a slight blush, she had to quickly shake away. “Oh... Interesting...” Val dared to look back at him. “But none the less beautiful.” Claudius added, his eyes drifted from her eyes to her lips, and to her eyes again. “C'mere. Dammit.” Val pulled at Claudius’s top, making their mouths meet in a clash. “Ouch!” They both burst into laughter, the nervousness faded away, and while the moment “was ruined”, both felt relieved. After they finished laughing it off, Claudius lifted her chin with his hand, and pulled her lightly towards him. She leaned in gladly, and their lips met in a soft and sweet kiss. This time it went smoothly, and quickly enough the kiss developed into a much hungrier one. As if it was making up for every time their glasses clinked and met each other instead of their lips, for every drink they shared instead of a night. They both were so into the kiss they forgot they were sitting on a wall without a backrest, and when none of them seemed to notice and stabilize themselves, they slipped and fell into the fountain. Although that didn’t stop them from kissing, there was some giggling and then they got back into planting kisses and soft bites at each other’s lips, Claudius laying on top of Val, both soaked wet, and completely content.

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ashdownbloodline · 5 years

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We Need You For Something...

Part 5: With A Side Of Gaelic

This is my first fanfic, I hope you all like it. I need to thank @dammn-dean for all her help! She has really helped me through all this. If you haven’t, go check her out. Let me know what you guys think of it.

Music can give you the feels! Recommend listening to some, especially the ones that come up throughout the story again. This one is a biggie by the way! Enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original Character (Yauna), other OC’s and Avengers pairings later.

Words: 5.4K+ (Damnnnn!)

Warnings: Adult Themes, Language, Eventual Smut, PTSD, motions of Torture, Fluff, Death, You know the drill...

Summary: Yauna just wants to be normal and Tony recruits her as his head engineer. Her past catches up and shit goes crazy.

(gif isn’t mine again)

Yauna finished her dish and her dessert, she decided on baklava. Even though it wasn’t an Irish dish, it was her favorite. She quickly set out three bowls of goulash and two plates of sourdough bread. She saved some in the pot for later, Maybe for lunch tomorrow? She gathered the bowls, utensils and napkins for everyone before summoning everyone through Friday.

They all file into the dining room part of the commons area, following the smell of food. “Get a bowl, the food is on the counter. I have dessert for later.” Yauna instructed and everyone followed. Bucky was the last to walk it just as she was giving directions. Eyeing her with a humble smile, she didn’t seem to notice but others did. Tony smiled at the pair, nudging Sam who he had found earlier to show the footage to. Sam looked at Tony and followed his gaze, landing on Bucky, who was smiling at Yauna.

“Why do I feel like I’m a child again, and you’re my mom?” Clint quipped quickly, accompanied by nods and hums of agreement. Yauna rolled her eyes, “Just eat, amadán.” Some laughed, but others looked at her with confused expressions due to not knowing what she said.

“Friday, what did Yauna just say?” Yauna’s head snapped to the source of the question. It was Vision with simple curiosity in his features. “Idiot.” Friday said simple in response, earning an offended look from Clint and a ‘Hey’ followed by small laughs from others. “Cúl Tóna” Yauna said quieter, hoping no one would her. But, Friday did and quickly translated, “Dickhead.”

Yauna grumbled, “Dùin do ghob! Ya cacan!” She said loudly to the ceiling, Friday quickly translated again. “Shut the fuck up! Ya wee shite!” The laughter was booming now as everyone sat down to eat in different spots all over the lounge area. Yauna threw her hands up in frustration and grabbed a bowl for herself, still grumbling. But, Friday couldn’t pick up on a single word, Thank the Gods! She thought as she grabbed a piece of bread and joined the others.

“What is that?” Pepper said innocently, the others leaning in to hear the answer. “Some Gaelic, my parents taught it ta me.” She said plainly as she stuck a fork full into her mouth to keep herself from talking anymore. The others followed and quickly there was a symphony of ‘Mmm’s, ‘Ooo’s, and ‘Yum’s. She laughed quietly, watching each person until her eyes landed on Bucky. He had his eyes closed, clearly enjoying the food and his eyebrows knitted together in the cutest way.

Everyone continued to eat, finishing one bowl after another. Until, Peter came jogging into the commons. “Hey, sorry I’m late!” He said breathily and gave everyone his genuine smile that made his whole face move. “Well, looks like you’re too late. I have the last bowl.” Sam said gesturing to his bowl before shoveling some into his mouth.

Peter’s face dropped into an open-mouthed frown, earning some empathetic hums from a select few of people. Yauna couldn’t watch his face be so sad for how young he was. She let out a defeated sigh, “The pot on the stove. It has more, help yourself.”

“You’ve been saving some this whole time! How dare you!” Tony stood up completely outraged. Peter ran over and dug into the pot of extra, Yauna just watched him with a smile. “Oh bugger off, Tony. You’ve had enough, let the lad eat too.” Yauna said, still watching Peter as he eat the whole bowl before he came to sit down. So, he went back for more and Yauna just smiled and chuckled to herself.

Bruce was the next to speak, “Say something else. Friday don’t translate, if she does.” He was curious, “We can make it a game.” Yauna nodded and thought for a moment while everyone got comfortable for the game. Bucky liked when she spoke in another language, he liked how it sounded coming from her mouth. The language was always rough and manly, but she gave it such a gentle feel (when she wanted to, that is).

“Tha an dath as fheàrr leam uaine.” She said after a moment, then she watched the others think. They were struggling, “It has somethin’ to do wit me.” She gifted them a hint, with a small laugh at their frustration. They kept guessing, it was cute how hard they were trying. But, finally she had to give them the answer, it was cruel not to. “My favorite color is green. That’s what I said.” They all let out a sigh of relief to their frustrations, all expect Bucky. He just sat smiling, making small comments every now and then.

“Well, now that we are all full and frustrated. I have a mission for you guys, well most of you guys. Everyone except; Yauna, Peter, Bruce, and myself. It’s next week, Tuesday to be exact.” Tony said and the whole team groaned, Yauna got up and walked to the oven (where her desserts were warming) while Tony continued to explain the mission.

She plated a bunch and started passing them out to, hopefully, lift some spirits. She started with Tony and Pepper. He proceeded to let Friday explain the rest as he ate, he couldn’t really care to explain after he took the first bite.

She passed one to Bucky, giving him an extra big smile as he took the plate. He looked at the contents, Baklava! My favorite. His eyes light up and he picked up the pastry to take a bite. The heavenly crackly hitting his tongue instantly. Jesus, I might just have to propose if she keeps this up.

His eyes met Wanda’s and she smiled devilishly, giving him a wink. Clearly she had read his mind and she was enjoying the commentary in everyone’s mind.

They talked over the plans and the details for the mission, it was a mission to take out a thriving Hydra cell. Training for everyone doubled until the day of the mission. Yauna decided to attended all the workout sessions, she wanted to be there for everyone and also spend some time with them before they left. A week was up so quickly and they were gone, everyone except the four who were told to stay behind.

Yauna worked in her lab mostly, she left the Compound a few times to visit her brother and her best friend. But, ultimately she stayed there to wait for everyone and to be there just in case something went wrong. By the Goddess, please let nothing go wrong. She pleaded every few hours, she hadn’t worried this much in so long. It had completely drained her, she couldn’t tell who or what exactly she was worried for. But, the others could see it was taking a toll on her. They took extra precautions to take care of her.

Five days later, the Team returned. They hurried back, tired and feeling victorious, they dropped their bags off and took the needed time before the debrief. Bucky didn’t wait long, he took a quick shower and ran to find Yauna. They had grown close, he just wanted to be in her presence again, he missed her so much.

She was in the lounge staring out the window at the upcoming storm, it calmed her nerves more than anything in that moment. Tony was talking to Sam, Rhodey and Bruce while they were playing billiards. Nat, Wanda, Vision, and Clint were talking about what happened on the couch. She was standing all alone, content but not completely relaxed. She was in jeans and a sweater with her hair naturally curly down around her face.

Bucky saw her from his position down the hallway, quickening his pace. “Yauna.” He said softly when he entered the room, she turned around and he saw how pale she was. The light behind her eyes only a flicker now. She looked worn, but that all changed when she was him. Everyone could see it, Tony and Bruce shared a knowing look and told the others what this meant.

In that moment, Yauna knew why she worried to much. Because, all her worry faded when she saw him healthy and unharmed. He stepped closer to her, she smiled that wide smile that she hadn’t given in days. Artemis purred on her back, willing her to move toward him. Her arms went around his neck and his around her waist. Squeezing each other tight, she let out a sigh of relief and Artemis was satisfied once again. He nuzzled his way into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent again as if he had forgotten it.

To the onlookers, this looked sweet yet weird. They had only been apart for five days, but it looked like they had been apart far longer. “Okay, lovebirds. Break it up, we need to debrief.” Steve said as he leaned against the door smiling, he was happy his best friend was happy. They broke apart laughing, slightly embarrassed. “Shut up, Stevie.” Bucky said back before following him to the conference room.

Tony decided to plan a ‘small’ celebration for the victory for the Compound. Yauna and Bruce ordered the food and the alcohol, they didn’t need to be in the debriefing so it only made sense. Everyone kept making fun of Yauna and Bucky for what they witnessed in the lounge. Bruce took it lightly, just asking questions and commenting about how cute they were together. Bucky got the rougher end, Sam and Nat teaming up on him. While Steve warned him about him still being able to kick Bucky’s ass. After the conference ended it was time for the party.

Everyone in the Compound was there, they took up the whole commons area and some of the balconies outside. The Team was sitting in the living room area, with most of them occupying the couches and chairs. Yauna sat on the arm of the couch, next to Bucky of course. Sam was walking over with an armful of drink for everyone, when he spilled some on Yauna.

“Shit, Yauna. I’m sorry. Dammit should’a made two trips.” He said grabbing some napkins to dry her shirt with. “Sam, i’s alright.” She stressed as she stood up and quickly removed her sweater, revealing a black long-sleeve with a low cut back (that she had completely forgot about). She turned around to lay her sweater on the back of the couch, that’s when everyone saw.

“Didn’t know you had a tattoo!” Nat said as she elbowed Wanda, Peter and Pietro looked at each other confused and turned back to their own conversation. Yauna cringed, How could I forget! Damn it! What do I say? Her head swirled as she slowly turned back around to face everyone. They all seemed to lean in to listen to her response. “Yeah...I-uh, I don’t usually show it off.” She said innocently and looked down at the floor.

“How big is it?” Sam said quickly, everyone wanted to press for information, but felt bad doing it so Sam did it. “It starts at my shoulder,” She motioned to her right shoulder and turned around to show Artemis off, pulling down the back of her shirt to show more. “And she goes across my back…”

“Where does it go from there, it disappears into your waistband.” Peter said, finally joining the conversation at the sign of drama along with Pietro. “Um, she goes down and around my hip.” She motioned sweeping her hand from around her back to the front of her thigh and in between them. “And over my thigh and her tail wraps around my leg twice.” This drove Bucky nuts, all the thoughts flooding his head about how he wanted to find out where the tattoo went and how he wanted to touch her in the same way.

No, bad Bucky! No. He scolded himself like a five year-old, shaking the thoughts out of his head. He looked at her again, head somewhat clear, and he saw her body fidget. Her hands moving by her sides, the same motions over and over. Something seemed familiar about the motions, but he couldn’t place them. “What is it?” Pietro asked, almost reading his sisters mind. She looked pleadingly at Tony, but he just shook his head. You’re gonna have ta bail yourself outta this one, kid. He thought as he looked at her helpless expression. “I call her Artemis, she is just a wolf. I got her as a act of rebellion toward my society.” She stated, somewhat relaxing and moving to sit back on the arm of the chair.

Bucky placed his hand comfortingly on her back, tracing small circles to sooth her. She smiled to herself, he always tried to help her when she was nervous or scared. This time was no different. The conversation went on and they finally got off the topic of her tattoo and how they were going to shame her for not telling them sooner.

Looking around, Yauna noticed Tony had disappeared. “We should dance, Pep.” She heard Tony’s voice reappear, he was holding out his hand for her. Everyone else found a partner and stood to walk over to the dance floor. Yauna stood as well, she held out her hand to Bucky. “Wanta dance, dear?” She said with a shy smile, the same one she had given him in the kitchen when they danced.

“Oh Yauna, I wouldn’t try with him. All he knows is really bad swing.” Steve said with a teasing laugh, Yauna cocked a smile. “Care to show t’em what ya learned?” She said with a sly grin at Bucky. “Definitely.” He said confidently and they headed to the dance floor, the others skeptical of what she meant. Except for Tony and Sam, who knew exactly what she meant.

A song started, close to the one they had danced to in the kitchen, “The Arena” by Lindsey Stirling. They kept their moves loose and fun, but still showed off that Bucky now knew more than Steve thought he did. Bucky spun her around and she hooked her leg around his knee, their bodies pressed flush together. A goofy smile plastered on his face, causing her to laugh as they continued.

It was beautiful, they worked perfectly together. They had danced together over the week before the mission, Bucky learning more and more. Right now, he was showing off to everyone and she was there to guide him along.

The song finished and the group clapped, Yauna hooked her arm around his waist and took a small bow with him. Tony had a devilish look on his face. But, it wasn't him who spoke first it was Sam. “That was good n’ all, but doubt you know anything completely different than swing tinman.” He teased and Steve laughed with him. The whole group now knew what they were doing. Tony and Sam wanted them to see for themselves what they saw.

The next song started up and it was Ocean Eyes again. She looked at him with a knowing look, “We have to.” She said with a smile that lite up her eyes. He chuckled and nodded and they accepted the challenge, heading back onto the dance floor. She took his metal hand again and he put his right hand on her waist, a little lower than it was the last time.

They stood close as they started to spin and twirl around. The whole world disappeared, the only thing they focused on was each other. Tony and Sam were telling people “I told you so” and everyone was making comments and theories. The song was coming to a close, but neither of them wanted it to end. They stood in the same position that they started in, just looking into each others eyes.

Then, a brunette came bounding up to them and she looked like she was on a mission. “Oh, James.” She said in a singsong voice as she inserted herself into their world. “James, we need to talk.” Yauna let go immediately, she looked at the brunette and back at him. “You goin’ ta be okay?” She asked before she left him entirely. He gave a faint nod and she turned around walking back to her friends.

They had all started up fake conversations when the song ended, so they didn’t get caught staring. As she approached, eyes on the floor, Steve picked up on the absent body almost immediately. “Where’s Buck?” He said with almost a sadness in his voice. Yauna hiked her thumb back in the direction that he was in. Steve’s eyes followed, along with the others. “That bitch!” Nat practically yelled, which startled Yauna and Wanda moved to answer her confused look.

“That’s his ex-girlfriend. She works in HR.” Yauna nodded and her hands started moving at her sides again. “A real piece of work, you’re way better than her.” Pietro said from her left as he noticed her anxiety increase. They watched the conversation unfold quietly from the other side of the room.

“You better be free tomorrow, James.” He cringed at her words and her tone, but especially at the use of his real name. “Why?” He said plain and simple, he really didn’t care what she had to say he just wanted to be a gentlemen. Not that she deserved it at all, but he couldn’t help his 40s ways.

“We have a date tomorrow and you’re staying with me tomorrow night. Don’t need that girl to think she can have you.” She said matter-of-factly, he hated her now with every atom he could muster. He shook his head, “Jennifer, we are not going on a date. We broke up months ago, you need to move on.”

With that comment, she took off toward Yauna. Yauna noticed and her hands started moving quicker, keeping complete eye contact with this girl the whole walk. “What’s your name, bitch?” She was standing in front of Yauna and in the middle of the whole group. There were gasps and ‘Oh no’s from them. “Why?” Yauna said flatly, Bucky grabbed the brunette’s arm. “Jen, come on. That was uncalled for.”

“No, I want to know the whore’s name who wants to steal my man.” That was the straw, Yauna stood to her feet slowly. “Jen, really? Just go.” Bucky said quickly, he had never seen that look on her face and the crazy flame behind her eyes that made them look like pure gold. “No, leave her Bucky.” She said with the tone that would frighten any sane person.

“Oh, you think you’re all big and bad? Well, honey I can snap your neck like a twig before you even see it coming.” Jen bluffed, this only made Yauna smile. “Listen, I’ll have you fired sweetie. He’s mine.” That was the last thing she said, Yauna caught her throat quick and raised her to her toes. She looked around her to Bucky, who had gone pale or maybe that had been before and now he was coming back.

“Do you want to be with her?” She asked innocently, Bucky shook his head violently to decline. “There’s your answer, dear. He doesn’t want you, so you need to back the feck off. You can belittle me all you want, but the moment you start on someone I love. That’s where I draw the line. I have had enough taken from me, I will not let you or anyone take anything else from me.” Her eyes grew brighter and her grip tighter, everyone watching held their breath.

They always saw her as sweet and gentle, but now she was choking a girl out and not batting an eye. “You will leave here and never come back, or so help me I will make you pay. I can and will kill you and not feel a single fleck of guilt. So, think about that next time you threaten someone I love. Do I make myself clear?” Jen nodded as best she could and Yauna dropped her to the ground. “Get out of here.” She stated again and Jen took off.

They stood in silence for a moment before Yauna spoke, “I need some air.” Was all she said and she turned to go to an empty balcony. They all stared after her in disbelief, then they all turned and were staring at Bucky. “What the hell was that?” He said finally, still looking in the direction that she took off in. He started toward the balcony, when Tony stopped him. “I’ll handle this. She’s worked up and the source is associated with you. Not the best combo from what I just saw.” He said and turned to go after her.

“Artemis, you can’t do that.” She said softly and the voice of her wolf resounded in her ears. We need to protect him and everyone else, Yauna.

“I know, but still…” She said sadly, I will not apologize for doing what you felt was right, as well. Yauna pounded her fist against the railing with a huff. Then, she hear the door click open. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until then, she wiped them quickly and readied for a lecture. “I’ll go in and apologize in a minute, Steve. I just need sometime to think.”

The steps of this person were lighter, so it wasn’t Steve. “That’s not what I was going to ask you. Actually none of us were.” It was Tony’s voice, a welcomed thing. He knew her secret (well part of it), she didn’t have to make up an excuse though. “What was that?” He said, no horror or judgement. She turned to him, her cheeks still slick with tears.

“I have to protect you guys, you’re like my family.” She said and the tears started to trickle again as she turned back to the railing. He hated seeing her cry, he had never seen it before. But, just now was enough to rip his heart apart. “Yauna, she wasn’t saying anything about anyone except you and Bucky.” There was silence for a long moment before he spoke again. “You said ‘someone I love’ when you were ripping her a new one. Do you love him?”

Her head hung lower, she had come to that realization just before he had walked out. “I have to protect him.” She said in almost a whisper, gripping the bar so tight her knuckles turned white. “I understand, but if you want to keep this thing a secret. What you did in there, sure as hell didn’t help.” He gestured to her whole body and then to the group inside. She looked at him again, more tears stained her face and her eyes were completely black.

“Don’t you think I get that, Tony? I fucked up okay? I ruined everything, I can’t protect anyone!” She yelled at him and took off toward the door, flinging it open and walking inside. She walked past everyone until she glanced up and met Bucky’s eyes. He saw the tears down her face and he knew they were his fault. She stopped in her tracks, but started on her path again before anyone else could see. Down the hallway and to her room she went, she didn’t come out the rest of the night.

Bucky left shortly after, to go kick his own ass for hurting Yauna. He hated himself more than he ever had. All he kept hearing were Tony’s words, followed by the tears on her face. He decided that a good session with the punching bag until his knuckles broke would help. He looked at his clock on the way out, it was one-thirty in the morning. No one should be there. He thought as he headed to the gym.

Yauna woke up from her restless thirty minutes of sleep, with a bad feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t shake it. It was similar to the feeling she got when something was wrong with Shane. She could usually feel Apollo transferring the feeling to Artemis, but this time it wasn’t between them.

She slipped out of her apartment and down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. On the way back, she noticed the lights on in the gym, through the observatory deck. She made her way down to find the source and as she neared the room, she heard the rhythmic thud of someone working out. She say the source standing in front of a punching bag, dealing hit after hit after hit without stopping. She made her way down to the main floor of the gym, and padded her way over to him. Bucky was standing in very low light, but even from there she could see the blood on the bag and running down his hands.

She set her mug down on the bench nearby, the sound alerting him to her presents. “Bucky.” She said softly and breathyly, he didn’t answer so she moved behind him. “Bucky, come ‘ere.” She said gently, sliding her hands around his shoulder and pulling him away from the bag. She could see and feel the pain on and in him. She hated it, it made her hurt. She guided him to the bench that her mug sat on. She didn’t dare use her magic to take his pain away, she couldn’t, it felt wrong even thinking about it.

She grabbed the first-aid kit and examined his hands. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out, a few tears escaping and rolling down his face. She started wiping the blood off the knuckles, she couldn’t look at his face. She couldn’t bare it now, instead she kept cleaning. “It’s all my fault, Doll. I’m sorry.”

She froze, all her muscles tight and she couldn’t let him keep beating himself up. She slowly raised her head, “James Buchanan Barnes. None of this is your fault. Don’t you dare think it is.” She said in the tone most moms used when stressing something to their children. She stared at him, taking in his broken appearance.

“I hurt you, I saw it. I hurt you.” He downed his head, letting his hands drop with it. She followed his gaze down to his hands. His flesh one was beaten and bloody, the metal one had blood on it but only from transfer via the punching bag. She quickly cleaned and bandaged the flesh one before speaking again.

“You could never hurt me.” She whispered, she hated herself for making him feel this way. “If anything I fucked up, I caused this.” She gestured to his hand and his tears. Bucky didn’t believe it, he swore she was lying. But, what she did next proved she wasn’t. She slide her hand along his cheek, cupping it and a few of her fingers landing under his ear. Her thumb gently wiped away the tears on his cheek. Her eyes were glossed over and she was closer to him than she had been before.

“Bucky…” She whispered, “I wish I could show you.” She shut her eyes tight before continuing, “It was never yer fault. It was mine. I realized something earlier and I jus’ couldn’t handle it.” There was a moment of silence as he took in everything she just said. Just as it clicked, his arms were around her waist, lifting her up slightly. She carefully put her arms around his neck and let out a sigh of relief.

They sat in that position for a while, just calming themselves down. “Why?” The question was loaded, it could have meant anything. “Why what?” She asked to be safe, her mind was panicking. “Why were you crying?” Yauna smiled and pulled back to look at him, “Come, ya need some sleep. Let's get ya to bed.” She stood up, he hadn’t gotten an answer, but the sad look was gone from her eyes.

She walked him back to his room, stopping at the door to say goodnight. “Do you want to come in?” He asked innocently, this time it was her turn to be vulnerable and nervous. “I can’t...can’t sleep somewhere else, lest I want nightmares.” She said, but she didn’t move and she didn’t know why she didn’t move. Her eyes met the floor as if it was the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

“Then let's go to your room.” He said and shut the door, walking down the hall to her room. He left her standing there, baffled at his openness. He shot her a smile while holding out his hand. She followed and opened her door, leading him to her room. That was the place that she felt herself, the only place really other than the forest.

They talked for a while, about everything and nothing. They watched movies that were on, criticizing the films as they saw plot holes. Yauna eventually fell asleep curled into Bucky’s side. She looks so beautiful. She’s perfect. He thought fondly, she wasn’t afraid of him at all. He moved slightly to get more comfortable and soon he was asleep.

It was well into the morning when he did, the others spying in on their rooms after they woke up from their hangovers. When neither had shown up, they knew what happened. With everything that happened last night, they had to be together. Friday finally found them in her bedroom, they all agreed not to bother them until they woke up. They needed the rest and the time to work out whatever happened.

Something struck him in his sleep. A new memory maybe or something else entirely. It was horrid, scaring the shit out of him. There were a few images, one that was burned into his mind. Yauna’s body, lifeless in his arms as he called her name. He thrashed next to Yauna, causing her to wake up. “Bucky?” She shook his shoulder, trying to wake him up. As she kept trying, the thrashing got more violent. She tried to keep his arms down, but he quickly threw her off. She dusted herself off, “Fine, the hard way it is.” She pinned his arms and legs to the bed, just like she did when they were sparring.

After yelling his name a few times, his eyes stirred behind his eyelids. He woke with a start, breathing hard and shaking. Yauna let go of his wrists and relaxed, she didn’t realize how heavy she was breathing. “Yer okay. Yer safe.” She said between breaths and he flew up, studying her face. She’s okay, she’s okay. He thought to himself, but that didn’t seem to completely work.

“You’re alive.” He repeated it as if it were a prayer. They looked at each other for a moment, then his head hit her collar bone as he tried to catch his breath. She brought her hands to rest on his back, she felt him shudder and silent sobs emanated from him.

His nightmare was so real, she had died, she had died in his arms. He thought he knew loss, but that feeling he had in the pit of his stomach from that dream, told him differently. She had begun to trace circles on his back to calm him down. As he did, she brought him down to rest on the bed. Still holding him tight, he clung to her. He needed to know she was there, that she was tangible. Then, he heard her humming and it drew his full attention.

(My mother sang me a different lullaby, but this is closest to that one. It’s from Brave, Noble Maiden Fair to be exact.)

“A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan…” She started, her voice was almost a whisper. “Ar righinn oig, fas as faic, Do thir, dileas fhein.” Her voice is beautiful. He thought, even if he didn’t understand a word. She soon felt his breathing regulate and his body relax. He was asleep finally, Hopefully for good. She wanted him to get the rest he needed.

The next morning, he asked where she had learned the song and where to sing. “My màthiar, uh mother. She sang to me.” Her ears had gone a little red from the slip of the word. Bucky just smiled, he liked learning stuff and especially stuff about her.

They got shit from almost everyone, because Tony had showed a lot of them what happened in the gym and they had showed up together later in the lounge, where everyone seemed to be waiting. But, they didn’t care and they stressed that it was just a friend thing. It was just a friend thing, right? They both asked themselves many times. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t.

Hey, everyone! Hope you’re all doing well. Thanks for reading to the end of this very long chapter. I couldn’t figure out how I wanted to break it up, so I decided not to. Let me know what you think! Love feedback. See Ya Next Time!

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky xoc #soft bucky #fluffy bucky #shy bucky #bucky x original female character #original character

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the-bear-neccesities · 5 years

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Ashes to ashes part two lost boys fan fic david x oc

The ginger jumped back as blood pooled around her, she emptied out his pockets quickly, and folding back the blade upon itself. Opening up her mirror while in the muc better light of the semi vacent building side,the nightwalker made sure no evidence was visibly upon her. The woman heard her name being called and quickly made her way to the crowded pier pocketing the money into her purse as she went. this was horrible but keeping those feelings down the girl put on a smile

"Sorry Davie, nature called. " His eyes washed over her and an off distance smile covered his face, he could smell it, the blood on her hands, feet, and in her purse, she wasn't having her ride on the cotton dragon, the man closed his eyes and followed the smell. Who ever that was probably had it coming.

Ashes to ashes. the man looked at her holding up the vodka and candy. " Not a problem Astrid. " David stated settling himself upon the railing. "So you get the candy to?" The girl asked sitting herself next to him he tossed her the skittles and handed her the vodka. Ash ate a few skittles before tossing a few in the bottom watching the rainbow gems float to the bottom of the bottle. "There is some childhood youth in you." David spoke suddenly causingly the glass bottle to nearly slip from her hand.

"Sadly you don't...old man." The ginger teased with a wide smile, before the color changed and she took a large sip from it wincing horribly at the taste, if she was going to even attempt to forget the crime she had commited the girl would have to get a bit drunk "If you gave me the time of night i'd show you what this old man can do." Ash shook her head and dropped more candy into the alcohol. "Yeah, i don't provide my service with viagra, i'm not sure if you can keep it up long enough." David faked a hurtful look before chuckling.

"You don't mean that kid-""If you think you can call me kid i think i do." The man rolled his eyes tiping back his head to take a swig. "Jesus you're gross that is not how you handle vodka...here "She took it from him as he digustinging pretended to gargle with the alcohol and dropped a load of candy in to it changing the clear liquid into a rainbow. "Here you go, now at least i won't think you don't have any taste..weirdo." Astrid stated with a wide smile.

"I liked you, you should have known i have taste." He took a sip and smiled softly. "But you had yet to taste me" the woman giggled stupidly taking in the buzz that over took her. "i was wondering has anyone? I bet you taste sweet." The man whispered looking as her gaze faltered and cheeks heated slightly, the redness partial to her embaressment and from the drink.

"David it is far to early for that talk...How did you meet the boys?" He shook his head sighing at the fact she was embaressed. "well we're a family you know...We were just street kids and we sort of just found eachother, of course we wouldn't have if Max hadn't taken us in...hey come with me." His eyes lit up suddenly with an idea, even if he was going to eat her the vampire wanted at first wanted her to truly trust him.

"Wait why david where are we going?" The girl whined as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the crowd "to see him, he could give you a job." Astrid stopped dead in her tracks looking up at him. "What...David no, i don't need hand outs and you've done far to much already, and i barely know you why...why are you doing this?" david chuckled at her watching as she shifted uncomfortable and took in a large gulp of the drink.

"come on, you gave me your chinese food this is pay back..and you'll owe me a kiss if you get the job.deal?" The woman rolled her eyes though he could see a tear make it's way down her face. "deal, but just a kiss? David...if i..i don't have to do that...ever again i'd give someone my soul if i could..." Ash chuckled quickly wipping away her small showing of sensitivity as she steadied her voice.

"You sure he'd let me get the job?" the girl asked and the man moved her out of the crowded street looking her over. "Yeah, if put up your hair, and tuck in the tits, i think you'll be golden." David laughed watching as she pulled up the crimson locks that had surrounded her neck like a waterfall, with nimble fingers tie it up and doing so she revealed three elongated scars that went down to hide in the coverings of her gown.

he looked at her neck not only feeling the sensation of her pulse beating wildy but the curiousity that was eating away at him. what happened to her? yes he gathered that she had been hurt, but people in her situation got better eventually, instead it seemed as though the ginger before him had sunk even deeper into this pit of hell.

"David?" The girl whispered, the creature blinked to see her brows furrowed together and a blush cover her freckled cheeks, the handsome icy eyed man before her had been staring. "He's just over there okay..i'll talk to him and then send you in." Ash nodded and held out her hand as though she was simply a frail child and he was a hero leading her away to safety, for another moment the man couldn't believe that she slept with men for a living.

The two made their way over to the video store where a group, of what Ash knew to be Davids biker friends, stood. They looked her up and down before raising brows at her appearance, their questioning looks were all aimed to the jacketless pale man before her. "Aye there davie, you really know how to pick em, maybe you should settle down with this one she has got a-""You are wrong on two accounts, buddy boy. One i picked him, and two...Only place anyones going to be settling is six feet under alright." ash snapped with a soft smile and a wink before taking another sip of the colored liquid the boys laughed gently as she blushed

The black haired one with a chisled jaw chuckled. "I like her." David put an arm around the small ginger almost as though he was claiming her, the man was somehow different from how he was when they were alone, tense? protective? "Me too, we're here to talk to max...He in there?" Astrid glared at david playfully until he slowly removed his arm, the boys sent a look at him as though he had just been castrated.

The woman smiled and softly nudged him, he was being the nicest person she had ever met and Ash didn't want to bruise his ego to badly . "Put it back, it's the least i can give you...since your not getting anything else." the man smiled widely at her his cold skin pressing over her hot neck, Astrid wondered if she should hand him back his jacket.

"you're just saying that right?" Dwayne tease do the woman placed her finger to her lips. "i'll never tell." Ash looked over at the bleach blond man who smirked at her. "as long as he doesn't." Paul, the twisted sister look alike nudged david. "he's in there if you want." the man looked nervous as he moved closer to the door and for the first time in this better light she noticed his muscled forearms and the tired look in his eyes

Ash blushed at this obvservation, wondering how they would feel holding her close as she tugged up at her dress top before the man squeezed her scarred hand. "Good luck." she whispered as the stubbled man moved away and handed his bottle off to the twisted sister look alike, the door to the home video store opened and closed with a ring. Her heart was pounding as the middle aged man chatted with david, he had glasses and a stern look on his face.

"so, david seemed to like you." the ginger looked over at the small blonde haired man, he was younger than her and had an impish smile that reminded her of puck. "yeah he seems to like you guys alot too, i'm ash by the way, do you guys want some?" the dark haired one raised his brows smirking wildly as the red haired girl handed him the colored alcohol.

"i also got some candy if you guys want." her eyes were trained once more on the middle aged brunet who looked from her to david before seeming to sigh heavily. the nightwalkers guts twisted at the thought that he would convince David that she was gutter trash and all this hope Astrid had in the pit of her stomach would have been for nothing, this chance encounter would end here making her feel less that worthless.

"i'll take some." Marko, the impish small one stated, half heartedly and with red cheeks she gave him the remainders of the skittles. the woman could feel their eyes over her like Ash was a prey for the feeding but her only worry was towards the video store clerk and the biker that he was speaking to, nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

David had a small smile when he came out of the store, that told her everything was okay. "go on in, you'll do alright." the man stated beaming as he squeezed the freckled girl's hand the leather on her wounded hand hurt slightly but she didn't seem to notice at the moment.

"Make sure they don't drink all of the alcohol okay?" she was nervous but swallowed it down as david held open the door and let her pass a small sweet smile etched into his handsome features. The inside of the video store was warm and the smile on the owner of the store was even more welcoming, with her worrying slightly settled Ash put on a bright smile.

david shut the door and felt the boys silently prying for an explanation, they had obviously heard the conversation between the leader and him. "what?" Marko shrugged looking to paul to speak. "She had blood on her. I don't know what game you're playing at Davie, but homicidal barbie isn't what we need at the moment, are you planning on turning her or something-"" homicidal barbie is that what we're calling her? i am assuming you've never killed someone so you obviously have leway in the way that you can judge people aye paulie boy?" the icy man growled for the first time making the rest silent.

"She's just a girl okay you guys? Ash is just a girl who needed some help, and i thought that i might as well make her life a bit better before i kill her." dwayne gave David a knowing look and paul shrugged guiltily, Marko dumped the whole package of candy into his mouth and pretended to be choking in order to try and ease the tension.

The man spoke with the ginger woman kindly though he had an waryness about the way he eyed her. Astrid couldn't blame him but enjoyed how professional about the whole thing he was. "Well, you seem like a young girl, who is very sweet and has just happened to have some bad luck in her life, my son seems to have trusted you enough to ask me to give you a part time job." the man paused to wipe his glasses

"But, i will warn you that this job though it is not hard does have rules, there will be no drug use of any kind if i am to employ you okay? And this job will not pay you as much as you usually make i hope you understand that." Max smiled softly at the girl. "i do, and thank you so much for giving me this opporatunity, what uniform is required?" the employer than looked her up and down. "pants, and a T-shirt would be most acceptable, something that covers you up though, you start day after tomorrow and you have the next two days after that to work, three days a week night shift only, it's good to have you on board Astrid."

the two shook hands as Astrid tried not to squeal in happiness. Soon enough she was outside and the young woman immediately wrapped her arms around the tall scruffed faced blond man. "oh my god, thank you, thank you." it was the first time that the two had hugged and the man had his arms about her lower waist holding her close in an almost loving embrace.

his cool arms was about her and her face was pressed against his silent chest. David could feel her pulse, he hungered to take her at that moment, the blond heroic dead man didn't know if he meant that in his usual sense and a sudden flash of memory almost knocked him off of his feet, jack, the man the creature had killed the night before was embracing the woman in the memories just like this.

Astrid blush suddenly inhaling as she unclasped her hands from his neck and went to step back only to be caught by his own hug. Her green eyes met his and David smiled softly. "you're welcome Ash, we should probably go celebrate." his voice was a husk whispered which made the now retired nightwalker nod.

"you boys mind giving us back our alcohol?" the ginger asked with a raised brow, Dwayne stepped forward smirking with his own brow raised as he handed the two bottles to her. David wrapped an arm about her shoulder and saluted his friends who all rolled their eyes at the pair. "we could go to the beach, hang out there and get drunk, what do you think? " the woman suggested handing the bottles to the blond killer as she peeled away his jacket.

"Maybe, but there is a lot of dust, maybe we could go on a ride, or to your place..maybe my place." the ginger scoffed. "i've just been relieved from my job of sleeping with people, i'm not going to celebrate by sleeping with someone. " David rolled his eyes as she gave back the jacket and took one of the bottles from him.

"i don't want to sleep with you, atleast i'm not planning on sleeping with you tonight, we do need to celebrate, and if heading out to the beach and drinking is the way you want to go than that's what we'll do." the pair linked arms, which made ash smile slightly at the coldness of his appendage, David had yet to put on his jacket, not that she was complaining the icey feeling of his skin was welcoming.

before they could fully step off the pier Astrid stopped and took off her heals, causing david to have to hold onto her waist so the young buzzed woman wouldn't tumble over entirely. the girl sighed giggling softly at the man's kindness. "you are definitely going to end up sacrificing me to some deity aren't you?" the vampire smirked down at her as she stood fully and had her overly uncomfortable heels in hand.

"Nope, i might just eat you up though?" Ash rolled her eyes nudging him playfully as she wiggled her toes in the cold sand. "I don't take you for a cannibal Davie, sorry to say i don't think you'd have the stomach for it, the cooking i mean there is so much preparation in cooking the meat." the pale man rolled his eyes as he laid out his long duster jacket like it was a blanket.

"Yeah cooking is not my fortay but for you i think i might just make the effort." Astrid took a huge gulp from her bottle before settling down and patting the spot next to her, her eyes glued on the ocean which was crashing into the beach meters before them. david sat reluctantly watching the red haired girl stretch out her toes.

his eyes moved up her white legs, counting the freckles before coasting over her dress, he could imagine her skin wrinkling and her eyes dulling as well as the bright color in her fading away, imaging Astrid being forty with crows feet and a tired face. but for now Ash was beautiful, and one way or another she'd end up being a beautiful corpse, by his violence or one of her customers she would have died young.

the woman was oblivious to his dark thoughts and she scooted herself closer to him hoping to get some warmth. "gosh you're cold Davie, maybe you should be wearing the jacket." Ash's eyes turned to him only to find the man taking a huge drink from his half way empty bottle, her eyes scanned David's throat and his toned overly white arms, the muscles and veins peering out from the skin to her; like a reminder.

He could kill her. Ash thought David could do it right here and now, no one would care, no one could see, Astrid had alcohol in her system it wouldn't have been unusual, all this gentleman would have to do would be to walk her out to the ocean and hold her under, David could even...he could have even taken her and the police, if they investigated, would have thought nothing of it.

that idiotic thought sent a chill down her back as she morbidly thought of what her father would have said after finding out good riddance. Astrid could imagine him slamming the door infront of the officers face telling them that he didn't have a daughter and for the state to take care of the whores corpse, she'd see the over worn tired eyes and calloused hands of her father pushing open to door to her bedroom, it'd be exactly the same it had been, flowered walls, old peeling white floors with matching bed post, Ash's blue comforter dulled from years of dust, and small blue matching piano settled amongst the blanket of dust

Her father would have looked over at her talent show trophys, that picture of her at the fair with two missing front teeth standing next to gene their prized milk cow, and he'd look over her drawings, tears wetting the dry paint, tired hands would run over the ivories of the musical instrument wetting the keys as he remembered Astrid.

Then her father would shut that door one last time, her sisters would pack it and sell everything and that would be-"you like what you see?" David stated with a small smile as she jumped out of her darkened thoughts. "sorry. " the woman shook her head as she blinked away that horrid vision.

David was to nice, but Ash didn't think that he would do that to her. "i was just thinking...you still want that kiss i suppose?"

the man caught that lie but brushed over it with a smirk, nodding his head as the messy haired girl scoffed. "A promise is a promise i suppose." Ash took an over dramatic drink tossing her head back before she moved over to the man on her knees waddling over until the woman was right up to him, and instead of just kissing him, the ginger straddled him, legs, with dress pushed slightly about her hips, on either side of him.

David used his hand to lean on, as Ash settled on top of him. Her green jewels slightly peircing in the dark at him. The man's hand on her hip gently, the other fisted about the dirt as he fought to control the unending urge to rip out her throat. Astrid had placed her own hands on his shoulders before slidding them upward, one on the back of David's neck the other combing through his surprisingly soft hair.

she took in a soft breath making a small sound before leaning closer, David could see every pore and mark, the girl's lips were slightly chapped, pink and wet from the drink they had been enjoying, than all the man could see was the ocean crashing against the shore through the breakings in the tangled fire of her hair as Astrid's lips met the mans.

The lost boy made his mouth move, enjoying her soft lips and small frame pressed against him. Sweet vodka and her, filled up Davids tastebuds. The wanting woman curled her fingers about his hair, all of her moving with the kiss, tongues softly prodded and astrid could feel her cheeks heat against his cool flesh. David's and moved from her hip to the back over her neck where he could feel the old scars.

with in two magical moments after, the ginger pulled back sucking in her bottom lip as she looked down and blushed heavily, still tasting his essence in her mouth. "Well, that was nice-" David pulled the almost naive retired prostitute into a hug, breaking her sentence where it began, almost missing how she shook against him with soft innocent tears of hope, and happiness, pouring down her face.

"I really am thankful of you showing up david, i truly am...I didn't know how much longer i could be doing that..." Her own arms wrapped around the freezing man almost to tightly for him to feel comfortable, but David could feel Atrid's pulse, he could see the vein on her neck moving against the skin begging to be ripped and drained.

The firey haired paled woman was almost wanting to die. The scruffed man sighed eyeing the crashing waves as his fangs peered from their hiding and his face contorted into it's monsterous form, Ash inhaled into his shirt sensing his tension. The young broken girl didn't notice the difference in his features as she softly placed a kiss in front of his ear.

She didn't notice the almost deadly grip or how his fake breathing had stopped and how David was still beneath her, all Astrid could hear was the ocean, the distant sounds of life on the pier, and her own breathing. The man however, could only hear her pulsing, rapidly beating heart, though when Astrid whispered into his ear once more, all of it almost stopped.

"It's okay, i understand." All of his instincts and hunger almost stopped...Almost, but of course they didn't, once a monster always a monster, and once a prostitute, always a prostitute, at least to the publics eye she always would be.

and even though she had a knife just a few feet away the woman didn't even scream as the creature drained her dry, Astrid simply stared up at the star holding onto her killer tightly as though he was saving her, and in a sick way David was. She had finally found a way out, and that way out smelled of motor oil, cigerettes, and her blood.

and with Ash's memories, david would suffer, weep and Astrid would forgive the monster. Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust, after all he had only taken away her life, it wasn't worth much to anyone anyways, only forty dollar vodka, and a pack of skittles, it wasn't worth much to anyone. Ash was happy to give it away.

The end

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