#I’ve spent a lot of time by the ocean not in a tropical place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kth1 · 4 years

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Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally.

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top.

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles.

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers.

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.”

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.”

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam.

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest.

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day.

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster.

Another day, another play.

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards.

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts.

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight.

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.”

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand.

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you.

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.”

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms.

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.”

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture.

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!”

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner.

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.”

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.”

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them.

“Not everything is about being physical.”

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off.

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual.

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!”

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!”

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck.

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him.

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl.

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.”

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?”

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind.

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig.

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view.

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash.

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit.

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.”

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile.

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.”

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying.

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell.

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples.

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you.

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things.

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up.

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself.

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended.

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside.

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him.

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.”

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night.

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party.

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face.

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute.

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.”

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.”

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.”

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops.

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him.

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words.

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.”

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling.

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution.

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips.

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural.

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok.

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.”

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck.

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning.

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team.

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level.

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on.

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch.

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.”

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water.

“Titty-twisters.”

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him.

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...”

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!”

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.”

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming.

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild.

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around.

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually.

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck.

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice.

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass.

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown.

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus.

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!”

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest.

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.”

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi.

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.”

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile.

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face.

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.”

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.”

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.”

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss.

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes.

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.”

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.”

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length.

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers.

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home.

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night.

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth.

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind.

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat.

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky.

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state.

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks.

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke.

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system.

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear.

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?”

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.”

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools.

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.”

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.”

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.”

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!”

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter.

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin.

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work.

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making.

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most.

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better.

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares.

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you.

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?”

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.”

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.”

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end.

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter.

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper.

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him.

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well.

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game.

And it was working.

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…”

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it.

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?”

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands.

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area.

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net.

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court.

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered.

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead.

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage.

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding.

“Guess I deserve that, huh?”

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies.

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable.

#houseofddaeng #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #suganetwork #armysource #bangtanarmynet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #one shot #kimtaehyunq #cut shot

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some-dr-writings · 3 years

Text

Fuyuhiko x Reader who won’t confess

· Of all people you could have fallen for, why did it have t be the YAKUZA BOSS!? He has a bad temper on top of that! What if you tried asking him out and he was insulted by it so he had you killed!? Nope! No! You couldn’t do it! You were way too scared! It would be best you ignore the feelings…

· …

· But how could you!? Sure, he was a hot head, but he was a good guy, kind and loyal to his friends. It didn’t help either that you saw each other every day because you were in the same class. It also REALLY didn’t help that your best friend there was Peko, her and Fuyuhiko never spent much time together but the few times they did they seems to be good friends, and Peko seemed to know a lot about Fuyuhiko, so the pair of you would end up talking about him and your crush on him often.

· “I understand your apprehension, but you can try talking to him more, nothing has happened to our other classmates who have gotten close to him.” “Peko. Gurl. I am the Super High School Level Crime Boss. I may be bold and cunning, but I’m not going to approach the heir of the biggest and greatest crime syndicate in Japan with something like this. I could go with the excuse we are both great powers and should be on amicable terms so we don’t slaughter one another, but that would be a lie, and we don’t lie in my family.” “… Would it be a lie to say you wanted to get to know him because you like him, and he is your classmate?” “… Hmm… perhaps. Even so, I don’t need others on looking, possibly seeing us getting chummy and taking that as a threat.”

· You didn’t avoid the man per se, but you did try to spend as little time with him as possible, fearful of him asking something in just the right way where you couldn’t dance around it and would have to confess. The few times you did get to spend time together was rather nice.

· The wind rolled past carrying bright green leaves along with it, a much-needed break from the heat that came pouring down from the cloudless sky. You sighed, taking a sip of your cold drink. With the condensation on the glass, it slipped in your hands for a moment, almost spilling into your lap. You and Peko chatted away at the balcony of the café, loving the summer day. You sighed noticing Fuyuhiko from the corner of your eye. You had figured out long ago that Peko was Fuyuhiko’s secret bodyguard, the man always was near by whenever the pair of you spent time together outside of school. He was even generous and kind to his subordinates letting them live life outside of his syndicate. It truly kind man.

· “Hmm, oh, Kuzuruyu, hello.” “Huh?” “What?” Clearly both you and the man were caught off guard, it evident on your faces. “What are you doing here?” “Uh… Well, this place just opened but I’ve heard nothing but good things, so I decided to check it out.” “Same with us. Say why don’t you join us?” You spat out your drink, choking on it mid-sip hearing the suggestion, thankfully for the heir who only would have gotten flustered if you had noticed the bright scarlet that had erupted on his cheeks when he approached you and Peko. “Y/N!?” “I’ll get some more napkins.” Peko immediately dashed off, leaving Fuyuhiko with you. You were still coughing, covering your face with napkins, embarrassed by the whole situation and not wanting your crush to see you like this. Nervously Fuyuhiko pat your back, feeling too awkward to do much else. When you settled down you were completely embarrassed but tried to remain calm and let the staff clean the table. “You okay?” “Physically, yes. Emotionally, no, I am a wreak right now.” “Ah.” …

· …

· Thankfully for the awkwardness neither of you tried to make idle chit-chat allowing you to notice… something. “Since the staff are taking care of things let’s look for Peko.” “Yeah.” Instead, you both immediately left the premises. Your suspicion was confirmed, you were being followed. At the first opportunity you raced to anything you could use for a quick getaway, a motorcycle this time. Mentally you apologized to the couple and made sure make a note to repay them with a new motorbike later as you slammed a helmet on Fuyuhiko’s head, dashing away on the bike.

· “Sorry for getting you caught up in this. I recognize the bastard, some assassin who’s like a cockroach, won’t just die no matter how much lead I pump into em’!” A bang sounded, a gun having been fired, the bullet landing right beside the tire sending a few sparks flying. “A cockroach. I’ve dealt with the likes before. Focus on driving, I’ll take care of them.” “Alright. Let’s see how good of a shot you are!” A chuckle seeped out of you, the thrill of the chase always something you couldn’t help but enjoy no matter the danger. With a rev of the engine you took a sharp turn, turning around, leaving skid marks on the pavement as you did so before charging head on for the car behind you. Fuyuhiko blew out a tire as you raced past. “Only two in the car, usually has at least ten assistants. Don’t let your guard down!” “Wasn’t going too. This isn’t my first assassination plot.” “Except you’re a bystander who got dragged in this time, so at least you aren’t the primary target.”

· Fuyuhiko kept up carefully aimed fire, only having so-many bullets, but you though trying to escape and dodge fire you also specifically made opportunities for Fuyuhiko to get good shots in on any attackers.

· “Fuck! Gun’s jammed!” “OF COURSE!” Fuyuhiko kept muttering swears under his breath desperately trying to get the damn thing to work again. You looked over your shoulder for a moment, finding Fuyuhiko opted the hurl the junk at the car, cracking the windshield right on the driver’s side. “Hah! Nice one.” “Don’t celebrate just yet. We’re out of fire now.” “Hell no! We could die at any moment, so we’ve gotta celebrate when we can!” You laughed, speeding away as the car behind you wavered, almost crashing. Still though it made chase. Now it was completely up to you to keep you both alive. Taking a sharp turn off the street you instead raced down an alleyway in between buildings. You smiled seeing where you were. “Take in that ocean air Kuzuryu! We’re almost home free!” “Home free you say? Alright, show me what you’ve got!”

· “There’s more assassins!” “Got it.” Unfortunately the streets by the sea side were much narrower than deeper in the city so dodging was near impossible, all you could do was weave between cars and hope for the best.

· “Kuzu, Hold on tight!” You dashed through traffic, turning into the opposite lane and cutting across it, slipping between spaces in the railing. Unfortunately, the hill beyond the railing was a bit steeper than you remembered, the pair of you being in the air for a while before crashing down, wavering too much you could only keep balance for a few moments before flipping over.

· “Hey. Hey, Y/N!” You groaned, slowly getting up, your head ringing and the world swirling and spinning. “Y-you alright?” “For now, but we need to go!” Taking your arm he pulled you up and ran along. The motorcycle left deep marks in the ground, signaling where it crashed, pointing out where you were. “Just gotta get to the docks. We’ll be safe there.” “Got it!”

· Quickly the pair of you ran along, hiding behind anything you could, from shrubbery to beach umbrellas, the gun fire raining down around you. However for a short time it did suddenly come to a stop. “Peko!” Indeed it was the swords woman, putting a stop to the attacks as long as she could.

· “Young Master!” Finally you had reunited on the docks. Not stopping for even a moment you raced for a building, kicking the door down upon entering. “Get in the seaplane, now!” The moment your companions were in, you started the engine, immediately going not even giving them the opportunity to strap in.

· You were surrounded by nothing but blue. Blue skys, blue water, not another plane or boat in sight. You let out a shaky breath, shuttering. “Holy hell, I have not had a chase like that in a while! You two okay? If not there’s a first aid kit under my seat. If you have any serious injuries we’ll have to land and do work on the wing of the plane. But if it can wait for an hour or so we can take care of it on the island.” It was a rather small plane, just for personal use so there was little room, only enough for four seats to be squished against to one another. “I’m fine. Peko-” “I am unharmed. However, you have several cuts.” “Y/N, you’ve been shot!” You gritted your teeth, instead focusing on piloting. “Maybe… but it can wait.” “No! You’re landing this thing right now!” “Kuzuryu! The island has much better supplies for this, and though I know there are no other sea planes in the docks they could have them hidden elsewhere and I want minimal risk of them finding us and my private hideaway. So we have to out run them” “… Fine, but we’re using the first aid kit on you.”

· You winced as Peko and Fuyuhiko tried patching the wound as best they could. The bullet didn’t get in too deeply but the longer your flight went on the more that fiery pain seeped into you, it no longer being ignorable as your adrenaline lowered and slowed. You could feel our heart pounding against your rib cage, your breathing getting heavier. “Y/N, you’re pale.” “I-I’m fine.” “Like Hell you are! Don’t pull that bull shit with me!” “I can fly this thing, if I can keep doing that I’m fine. It… it’s not too much farther now.”

· …

· You were in the cabin. “A-aunty, Uncle.” You smiled, knowing you had arrived at the island safely seeing the elderly pair. “Wh-where’s my guests? How are they?” The woman simply gestured to the wide open doors leading to your tropical paradise, the sand and ocean waves so close, Fuyuhiko and Peko standing in the frame. Fuyuhiko had a few bandages but seemed fine. Both of them looked relived. “Boss shall we leave you with your guests?” “Yeah, but before you go, how long till I’m healed?” “You may get up now.” You looked questioningly to the older gentleman. “We sedated you with sleeping drugs this time so you would not have to just lie in bed and constantly sneak out instead of resting for your health.” “H-hey! I’m not that reckless!” “Boss, you had three bullet wounds.” You simply shriveled in your bed. “I-I needed to check on everyone else myself. Too many got injured that time. Those basters needed to pay.” “And you can not risk your health when doing so, Boss.” “… Thank you, Uncle. You and Aunty prepare some food for us.” In unison the elderly folk said ‘Yes, boss’ heeding your command and making their leave. “I shall assist.” And Peko left with them. Slowly you sat up, getting out of bed. “Well… care for a walk? I feel rather sluggish from having slept for several days at least apparently.” “Sure.”

· Even if you would regret it later, you could safely spend time with the man now, knowing none other than Peko where here to protect him and heed his command. Just this once you could get a little closer without fear, and more importantly, learn exactly how bad his injuries were.

· You took the chance to explain to Fuyuhiko just who exactly your assailants were, how they were actually an organization made by rogue government officials who wanted you dead no matter the consequences. How this island was your personal place you only allowed the most trusted of family members in your organization to go to, or those injured should this place be the most convenient, how you ‘Aunty’ and ‘Uncle’ were individuals who had worked in your organization since you first created it and were like family though not actually being blood related to you or even married to one another. And… you just kept talking like how you found this island and made it your home away from home, about school and your classmates. You both just talked about whatever through the day.

· And soon there you were sitting on the sandy shore, looking up to the starlit sky. “Really? I don’t believe it.” “No, I really did crash the car there.” “You call the assassins cockroaches, but that more so describes you.” “What!?” Fuyuhiko couldn’t help but chuckle a little seeing your reaction. “Yeah, surviving car crashes, being shot through the chest, poisoning, now a motorcycle crash. Seems you’re unkillable.” “Excuse me, but all of those were calculated risks!” “Exactly. Even in crazy situations you can keep calm and take the less disastrous outcome…” His smile faded, a more serious expression taking on his features. “Y’know… When I step up as the leader of the Kuzuryu clan, I’ll need someone strong, and capable by my side… maybe… someone like you.” “……… Are you… confessing, or am I horribly misreading this.” Fuyuhiko froze, a blush flaring up on his cheeks. “Well, I think we worked rather well together today so… W-wanna go out?” “Yes! Absolutely yes!” “O-oh… alright then.” Clearing his throat he stood up. “Well… it’s getting late, I’m shoving off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow… maybe you could give me a run of the grounds here?” “Yeah, definitely!” “Good… I’m looking forward to it.”

· “Oh my god, Peko, I finally asked them out! And they said ‘Yes’!” “Good for you, Young Master.” “I didn’t even hesitate! I know you said they it would be safe since nothing had happened to our other classmates, but… they’re still the Boss of the greatest crime syndicate over seas! This could have gone horribly and I just did it! I didn’t even use the excuse we should be on good terms or allies, so we don’t kill each other. I just asked them out!”

· Even if Peko’s plan didn’t go quite as she thought it would it still worked out. Her duty is to protect her young master, so it would not do for him to kill himself due to stressing over asking his crush out. She already knew things were going to turn out great for the pair of you. You were so alike and so drastically different you just complimented one another perfectly.

#fuyuhiko kuzuryu #fuyuhiko x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #danganronpa x reader #peko pekoyama

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Harpy Rescue

M monster X F reader, 7,143 words

You wash up on an island after a shipwreck. The harpy natives take you in and you find companionship with a certain healer who’s been caring for you.

I stared blankly at the sky above me. I was lying back on a beach. The tide was coming in underneath me. The salt water stung at the raw scrapes on my back.

It was struggle to breathe. My lungs spasmed and heaved with every breath. All my energy went into keeping my lungs heaving.

It was ironic. The only person who survived the shipwreck was the one who would die anyway.

None of my limbs would move. I knew I wasn’t paralyzed, if only because that would have dulled sensation and I could feel every scrape and bruise over the surface of my body. I just couldn’t move under my own power.

It took all my energy to keep breathing. It hurt just to breathe. My lungs stuttered over the air, threatening to stop altogether every time. Even with all my effort going into it, I still felt faintly dizzy from lack of air.

There were birds, enormous birds, circling overhead. Carrion birds, probably. They could see me lying on the beach and probably assumed they were getting a nice lunch.

The water was getting higher. It was a race, I thought morbidly. Would the water drown me before the birds managed to eat my entrails?

They were coming down more rapidly now. They were huge. Perhaps I would get lucky and they would fight one another for long enough that the waves would come in. I would take drowning over being torn apart hungry birds.

The tide was coming in faster. I could feel it lapping around my ears. A particularly strong wave made me sputter and I spent nearly a minute coughing and gasping. It was harder than ever to breathe. Perhaps drowning wouldn’t be substantially more pleasant than being eaten alive.

One of the birds plunged into a dive, spurring the others to follow. They drifted out of my sight and no matter how far I rolled my eyes back, I couldn’t see them. Great. I just had to wait in anticipation.

There was a crunching behind me, the sound of something approaching. Another wave struck me and I choked, coughing on the water. Black spots popped in front of my eyes and I felt my entire body heave, water trickling from my mouth.

A hand caught my shoulder. With a heave, I was dragged out of the shallow water and up onto the firmer beach. Tilting my head back, I managed to catch sight of my rescuers.

They hadn’t been birds, I realized. They had just looked like birds from a distance. My rescuers were a group of concerned-looking harpies.

If I had any sense of dramatic timing, I likely would have passed out then. It would have made the situation much less awkward, at least. But I remained stubbornly awake, staring up at the small throng of harpies.

Their heads and torsos were humanoid, but they seemed to have a combination between arms and wings. Their arms were feathered and there was a split at the wrists between hands and the final joint of the wing. Their legs were scaled and ended in large, heavy talons. All of them had deeply tanned skin and dark brown hair and feathers.

They spoke to one another for a moment, in a language I couldn’t understand. Then, the one that had dragged me up the beach bent over and hauled me into his arms.

The group headed off the beach and into the tropical jungle beyond. It was getting harder and harder to remain conscious. I faded in and out, struggling to keep my consciousness together. The blackouts grew longer and longer and the tightening pain in my chest was growing sharper. Breathing was almost painfully difficult.

Another bit of irony for me. I had been saved from drowning only for my condition to kill me right away.

The last thing I was aware of was the man carrying me speaking rapidly before I was deposited on solid ground with a jolt.

When I opened my eyes again, there was a ceiling above me. It was thatched, and there were several bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters. The pain of my body had eased, and though my chest burned, it had loosened significantly. After a few breaths, I had gained enough energy to sit up.

“Here.” Someone to my right pushed a bowl into my hands. It was full of a strong-smelling liquid that made my nose run and my sinuses clear almost instantly. “It’ll help with your breathing.”

The person next to me was the same man who had carried me off the beach. I hadn’t gotten the best look at him, but he had the same golden-brown feathers and his long, braided hair was done up in the same style. I dipped my head and took a few swallows from the bowl.

It burned worse than any whiskey I’d ever tried. I sputtered, eyes watering, but the tension in my chest did fade. The bands that had always restricted my breathing loosened ever so slightly and I gulped air gratefully.

The man outstretched his hands and took the bowl back. I sputtered a few more times before my breathing calmed. “What is that?”

“An old remedy for chest trouble. It’s steeped out of different herbs.” As he set the bowl on a nearby table, I realized something.

“You speak English?” I asked.

“Some. My aunt met with travelers many years ago. She taught me. Just in case.” He leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. Something behind him shifted and I noticed his tail, made of the same brown feathers as his wings. “You must have inhaled a lot of salt water. Your breathing was bad.” He tapped his chest demonstratively. “You were wheezing.”

“It does that anyway. But the almost drowning didn’t help.” I pushed yourself up in bed. “Where am I?”

“Healer’s house,” he said. “In Namori Village. You were brought here by the storm, yes?”

“Not on purpose,” I said. “I was sailing to Larmark. They have a good hospital there. I was going for an examination.” I rubbed at my chest. “I don’t suppose you have any ships heading in that direction?”

“We are not a sailing people,” the man said with an apologetic smile. I slouched back into the bed. I wasn’t as upset about it as I should have been. The treatment was supposed to find a way to cure my condition. Without it, I could be beset by a sudden bought of chest tightness that could kill me at any moment. It had nearly done so several times in my childhood. But I had lived my life with it so far. I was just back where I’d started.

“She’s up!” I looked up to see an older woman harpy leaning over me. “Thought I told you to call for me, boy.” The male harpy ducked his head, looking properly ashamed. “Took quite a beating from that storm. Lucky you made it to shore.” She flicked her wings. “We saw the ship go down last night. Didn’t expect anyone would survive. You’re lucky we noticed you.”

“There’s something wrong with her chest,” the male harpy said. “She wheezes.”

“Noticed that.” The woman looked me over. Her eyes were a piercing yellow. “Thought it was from the seawater. It’s usually like that?”

“Yes. Since I was a child. I had some sort of illness that damaged it. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’ve never allowed it to bother me.” I’m sure my voice would have been much more reassuring, but my chest contracted in a cough and I heaved a few times.

“Perhaps you should let it bother you more. Give her more of that infusion, Nor. And recheck her ribs, just to be safe.”

“Yes, Aunt Aerath,” Nor said. She turned on her heels and strode off. We were in a back room, I noticed, small and full of warm light. Nor turned back to me. “Sit up. Drink.” I sipped more of the brew he’d given me while he prodded at my ribs. It was a little ticklish and I had to work not to squirm.

“Your ribs are fine,” Nor said eventually. “But your chest is weak.”

“Well, nothing I didn’t already know.” I rolled over, ignoring the sharp pains that came to me. “Can I move around?”

Nor nodded and I got up. He hovered close by as I shuffled around. I’d been stripped down to my shift, which would have been embarrassing if both of them hadn’t been wearing something similar. They both seemed to be wearing something like togas, though Nor’s skirt was long enough to trail on the ground. Both their outfits were a deep navy blue.

There was a partially ajar door and I stepped through it, onto the forest floor outside. The trees were enormous, towering over everything. Up in the branches, harpies darted back and forth, flitting between the branches. I could see nest-like houses nestled in the crooks of the trees.

“We’re on the ground,” I said. Nor nodded.

“Healers live on the ground. In case flightless ones come to us,” he explained.

“Ah. That’s sensible.” I stared up, looking into the trees with some interest. At least if I was going to be staying there for a while, it was a beautiful, fascinating place.

Nor took me back inside and fed me a chunk of meat along with a few fruits. I needed to heat the meat over the fire for a little longer- apparently harpies liked their meat fairly rare. Aerath returned after that and forced a few more herbal brews down my throat, which she said would help with the pain.

“I expect I’ll be here for a while,” I said as I handed one of her cups back to her. My mouth tasted like I’d licked the underside of a stone. The brews were unpleasant at best, though I could already feel a numbness creeping into my injuries.

“Humans come by only rarely,” Aerath said. “And there isn’t much of a pattern. Our species is not water faring and we can’t fly to the next mainland. Ocean flight is not easy.”

“Which is a taciturn way of saying I am stuck here.”

“No more than us,” Nor said.

“Be kind. She has lost her home,” Aerath said sternly. I shrugged, leaning back in bed.

“It’s not as awful as you may think. I was sailing to a hospital, you see. It was likely I would spend the rest of my life there, which, even with all that care, may not have been very long.” I shrugged. “At least this place is better for the soul.”

Nor turned his head and spoke to his aunt rapidly in his own language. She frowned, but responded in the same way. I ignored the pair of them and moved back to bed. Despite not having been awake for very long, I was already exhausted. My chest stuttered as I tried to lie flat on my back and I paused for a moment, wheezing.

Nor darted over and adjusted my pillow behind me. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Nor nodded, then slipped out of the room. Aerath lingered for a moment, looking at me.

“We’ll be upstairs if you require us. If you can’t walk, knock heavy things over until we come for you.” With that, she exited the room. The door closed behind her and I slumped back into the pillow, eyes closing.

I slept fitfully, especially after the pain medication wore off. By the time Nor brought breakfast, I was already up and walking around. There were several journals with detailed drawings of plants in them. I couldn’t read the writing, but I could see what the plants were and I spent some time matching them to the herbs hanging around the room.

“Quite an interesting journal,” I told Nor as he sat down to eat with me. “Did your aunt write it?”

He shook his head. “She is…” He struggled with the word for a moment. “Practical? A… practice? She remembers by senses, not words. But I need reminders.”

“You’re quite good at drawing,” I said. “I kept similar journals, though they sank with the ship.” He looked at me with clear surprise. “I had little else to do. I could rarely go out, so I spent much time in the gardens, drawing and remarking upon the plants. These remind me of my own journals.”

“When I am collecting herbs, I enjoy drawing them. Seeing nature. It is soothing.” He seemed to grow more excited, then composed himself. “I could show you garden, if you’d like?”

“I would,” I said. He grinned, then hopped to his taloned feet as his aunt entered the room.

I did not end up seeing the garden that day, principally because I spent much of it in bed. Nor stopped by every now and then, sometimes with food, more often with a new bundle of plants to tie up and hang from the ceiling. He seemed to go into a sort of trance when he was sorting the herbs, a sort of peaceful state.

It took a few days before I was approved to walk into town. “Don’t stress yourself too much. You’re still recovering,” Aerath said.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Nor said. He fluttered his wings at his aunt, shooing her away. “We’ll be fine.”

Being without wings earned me a great deal of stares. I was viewed with some general suspicion, as far as I could tell. I was allowed to stay because there seemed to be a consensus that throwing me into the wilderness would absolutely kill me, and they had decided not to be that cruel. Not wanting me to die, however, did not necessarily mean that I was accepted by the community. Having Nor with me seemed to help, at least somewhat. He was at least well respected, and being in his presence absorbed you into his aura of decency.

The village seemed to have been built into the enormous trees of the forest. Several houses had been formed out of several trees carefully grown together through cultivation, and the living pavilion, formed out of ten trees carefully coaxed into growing around each other, was the great centerpiece of the town.

Getting to see the town as a group also drew your eye to the cultural similarities between them. A majority of adults had short hair, while children seemed to exclusively have long hair. There didn’t seem to be a clear age delineation between them. Based on appearances, Nor was older than a few of those with short hair, though no one under a certain age had their hair cut.

“Is there a reason for the hair styling?” I asked. “You wear your hair long, but most adults seem to keep theirs short.”

“Oh,” Nor said, with a tiny, dismissive flick of his feathers. “They are… erm. I am not certain of the word. Paired?”

“Married,” I guessed, and Nor’s expression brightened.

“Yes. Married. Part of the ceremony includes cutting hair. Most couples keep their hair short, to show they are with someone. Long hair can be difficult to fly with. To keep your hair short means you have someone who makes it easy to fly.” He frowned for a moment. “It is a pun in my language. It does not work as well in yours.”

“I think I get it,” I said. “But your aunt is unmarried and her hair is short.”

“She is…” There was a long pause. Nor seemed to be struggling to think of the proper words. “Bound to work? Committed to healing? Something along those lines, I believe. She is joined to her job as one is bound to a lover.”

I frowned. “Healers are like nuns, then?”

Nor frowned too. “Like… nones? Healers are not nothing.”

“No, like nuns. It’s spelled differently.” Nor looked entirely blank. I suspected he couldn’t write English. “Nuns are people who take vows not to marry so they can become closer to God, as I understand it. Healers do something similar.”

Nor still seemed confused. “Not all healers. Only Aunt Aerath.” He reached up and touched the long braid that was coiled on the back of his head. “I have… not decided.”

“Well, you’ve got time.” We were quite close to the healing house again, but I paused and leaned against a tree. My chest was squeezing again and I needed a break. “I never planned on marrying, really.”

“Why not?” Nor asked.

“I didn’t expect to live terribly long,” I said frankly. “I have spent much of my life expecting to die from a sudden attack. And then my parents suggested that I go to a hospital for treatment, and it’s rare to marry once you end up in those sort of places.” I smoothed my new robes idly. “I never expected to have a husband who would be okay with his wife dropping dead at any moment.”

Nor fluttered his wings. “You are not going to die,” he said.

“It’s all right. I’m content with it. I have been this way all my life. I value every moment now. It’s nothing new to me.” Nor still looked discomfited, so I patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Truly, I’m fine. We should head back now.”

Nor plied me with the strange, spicy concoction for my chest when we returned home. I drank the lot of it, at his insistence. It did seem to help. There was something about the warmth of it that relaxed my lungs and brought air in easier.

As my recovery finalized, I began to look for ways to serve my new community. It was not something terribly easy. I could not fly, or truly do any sort of intense physical activity, which limited my options. Sewing and weaving, actions that had often been suggested to me, held no more interest for me in the village than they had in my own home. Trying to manipulate tiny threads that tangled at the slightest glance was infuriating, and my frustration often ended in chest-heaving coughing fits. I tried to go back to writing my journals, examining nature and writing about it, but there seemed to be little actual use for it.

Eventually, I began tagging along with Nor when he went to collect herbs in the forest. He’d been going out more and more often, looking for new plants and writing furiously in his notebooks. I could read them more easily now, having spent a few weeks immersed in a crash course of his language.

“Just make sure you watch out for snakes,” Nor said as we trekked through the thick foliage.

“Look out for what?” I said. I was at the awkward stage of learning a language where I knew most common words, but words that were used infrequently were still lost.

“Snakes? Er. <Snakes!>” Nor said in English.

“Snakes,” I repeated. “Are there a lot of them?” I looked cautiously at the ground.

“No. Not a lot. But there are some venomous ones that bite if you step on them.” Unsettled, I lifted up the hem of my robe, peering cautiously at the leaf litter. The clothes harpies wore were not well-designed for people without tails or wings. I had needed to do some rudimentary tailoring to fix it into something I could walk around in. Shoes had been another problem entirely, mostly because harpies had tough, scaled feet and wore no shoes. I had eventually just decided to layer several thick fabrics together and essentially tied them to my feet. They were neither comfortable nor easy to wear, but they were practical and had stopped your soles from being shredded.

We made our way slowly through the woods. I ended up holding onto Nor’s arm wing for much of it. Never having worked out for long periods of time had left me fairly uncoordinated and leaning on Nor made it much easier for me to move about.

“Look. Norell,” he said, picking up a bunch of sharp-smelling, pink flowered herbs from the ground. “My namesake.”

“What are they used for?” I asked.

“Chest conditions, actually. They’re a big part of the infusion I’ve been giving you.” Nor had been giving me a regular doses of that infusion. Taking some in the morning seemed to loosen my chest for the rest of the day. “I’ve been trying to make a stronger infusion, so we’ll need a lot of it.”

“Are you predicting a spike in chest conditions?” I asked. Winter was on its way, and apparently, due to their large, powerful lungs, harpies were quite susceptible to issues like pneumonia and bronchitis. But that seemed to be counterbalanced by the fact that winter was mild on the island, more of a tepidly cool wet season than a proper snowy winter.

Nor shifted on the ground. His wings twitched a little. It was hard to tell, thanks to his deeply brown skin, but I thought I could see a hint of red creeping into his cheeks. “It’s for you, actually.”

I lifted my brows. “For me?”

“It’s been helping you recently,” Nor said, a little defensively. “I thought that a stronger infusion would help even more.” He frowned critically at the plants. “I want to get it as concentrated as possible. But there’s not enough in the gardens right now, so I need more.” He straightened up, tucking a bundle of plants away into his bag. “Also, infusions will keep a little better than the herbs themselves, so I can keep them for longer. You’ll need some when the growing season ends.”

“You’ll need some for others as well,” I said. “Keep some in reserve.”

“If you need it, you need it,” Nor said. “I’d rather give herbs to someone who definitely needs them than reserve some in case someone else might need them.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to fully heal someone who can be fully healed than to keep giving supplements to someone who will always be sick?” I said. Nor’s feathers bristled, shifting in agitation.

“All people deserve healing. Whether or not their condition is curable. I want you to be well.” His tone was so severe that I could do nothing but stare at him. After a moment, he seemed to realize what he’d said and he broke eye contact, staring at the ground. “We should, ah. Head back.”

He started trekking through the woods rapidly. Harpies were notably better at balance on uneven terrain, thanks to their long, gripping talons. I struggled to keep up with him.

We were getting quite close to the village when I felt the unfortunately familiar seizing sensation in my chest. I stopped dead, enormously regretting my walking speed that had left me a little breathless. It was growing harder by the moment to inhale.

Nor paused, realized I was no longer with him, and hurried back to my side. “Are you okay?” he asked. One of his hands moved along my back, kneading my tightening muscles. “Breathe. Breathe!” If I had the air for it, I would have informed him I was trying, and was well aware that I needed to be breathing. Unfortunately, all my energy was going into not allowing my body to suffocate me.

Nor abruptly decided that simply telling me to breathe was ineffective and changed tact. “Hold on!” This turned out to be quite literal because he seized me around the waist and hefted me against his chest.

It was impossible for a harpy to fly while carrying something, because their arms and wings were one and the same, but I could have been fooled considering how fast Nor was moving. He plunged through the forest as fast as the wind. I would have been more impressed if I wasn’t struggling to breathe at the moment. As it was, I was aware that we were moving at quite a speed.

Nor was back in the healing house within minutes. I was unceremoniously dumped on the bed and Nor darted off, rummaging through a cabinet with a noise of wood rattling and glass clinking.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said. He knelt next to me, turning my head toward him. “You just need to drink this. Okay?”

I tried to inhale enough to speak and it stuck in my chest, sparking a coughing fit. Nor looked panicked and thrust the little bottle he was holding into my mouth. I sputtered, but some of the liquid spilled down my throat. There was a mild tingling and my chest loosened.

With my breathing abruptly eased, I could keep taking small sips from the bottle. The tightness loosened with every swallow. Nor slumped next to the bed, wings sagging with relief. I put down the bottle, still coughing, but breathing easier.

“Are you okay?” Nor asked. I nodded.

“You can move quick,” I said. My voice was raspy and a little strangled. I swallowed, trying to fully clear my throat.

“I was worried,” he said. “You should try carrying a bottle of this with you from now on.” He walked over to the cabinet and fetched a small bottle full of the infusion. “If you’re going to be going out more often, you’ll want something to prevent more attacks.”

I took the bottle. “That’s a good idea.” I set it down onto the table next to the bed. “Are you inviting me on more herb gathering missions, then?”

A slightly shy smile crept up Nor’s face. “If you’d like to come. You’ve been pretty good at spotting plants. And you’ve been pretty good in the gardens lately.”

“I was never really able to do a lot of gardening before,” I said. “So, I tended to overfocus on the little minute details, like soil quality and the amount of water you give the plants.”

“You’ve improved the garden a lot,” Nor said. “Oh, which reminds me. Hold on.”

He stood up and trotted over to the cabinet again. After looking through it for a few moments, he pulled out a small notebook and walked back over. “Here,” he said, presenting it to me. It looked like the notebooks he used for his own notes, a smooth black cover and soft, slightly off-white pages. “I haven’t taken many notes on the gardening aspects of herbs. I just… haven’t been very good at it. But I thought you could start taking notes on how you care for the plants. It might be useful.”

I took the notebook from his hands. Our fingers brushed as I did so. His skin was warm and calloused, the sort of skin that only came around after long, hard work. The notebook was heavy in my hands, strangely dense for such a small item. “Thank you,” I said. “I would love to do that.”

Nor stood, shifting on his talons. “Good. Um. You should probably get some rest. I’ll be back in a bit.” He hurried out of the room. I watched him go until his tail had completely vanished around the doorway.

Working in the garden only brought me closer to Nor. We spent time together every day, either going out to gather herbs or helping him with the garden. He was enthusiastic to learn and good company even when we weren’t talking about plants.

His ease with me spread to the rest of the village. By the time winter was over, I had been completely accepted as a part of the community. To them, I was not as much an outsider human as a strange, wingless harpy. Even Aerath trusted me enough to allow me to learn how to make herbal remedies, while Nor took on more of her duties, like diagnosing illnesses and dressing wounds.

During early spring, when the rains began to ease, a change set in around the village. There was a new current of excitement, the younger adults spending more time showing off and engaging in stunts. Even Nor, who had been fairly even tempered in the time I’d known him, seemed to get caught up in the excitement.

It was during my usual work in the garden that I noticed the changes were not confined to emotional. There was a physical change too. Nor’s tail feathers, usually a deep golden-brown, had taken on a rusty color. The color only brightened over the next week, going from a dull, sort of reddish orange to a bright crimson. The colors showed up on the male population of the rest of the village as well, to varying degrees. Some, especially the younger males, never got past a reddish orange, while others got to the same brilliant crimson hue as Nor’s.

While it garnered some sort of notice and people seemed pleased about it, no one was talking about what it actually meant. It clearly meant something, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it was so important.

Eventually, after some time of trying to figure out what it meant on my own, I broke down and decided to ask Nor. “Your tail changed color,” I said as we headed back into the house from the garden.

“You noticed,” Nor said. His tone was utterly unreadable.

“Well, it’s a bit hard to miss. It’s a very bright color.” Nor’s unreadable expression shifted into one of clear embarrassment. “Is it something I shouldn’t mention? It seems to signal something, but I wasn’t sure what it was-”

“No, no. I mean, I guess I should have expected you to ask about it. You’re not a harpy, so you never would have been told.” He set the herbs he’d collected down on the table and turned to me, giving me his full attention. “It’s almost spring, which means that we’re approaching our mating season.”

I felt sort of stupid for not hitting upon that idea earlier. Of course. The red was to attract a mate. Was commenting on it some kind of social faux pas? As I tried to come up with that to say next, Nor continued. “We’ll have a mating ceremony soon, with the other local villages. It’s a big event, so everyone’s getting rather excited about it.”

“A… mating ceremony?” I repeated. How carnal were we talking? Was I going to have to make myself scarce for… how long did the mating ceremony last, anyway?

“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Nor added hurriedly. “It’s more of a competition? Or a show, really. It lasts about a week, and the first six days are more of a festival than anything. Lots of feasting, games, shows. It’s more about getting to know the other villages and the people from them. It’s quite fun. The festival ends with the mating ceremony. It used to be a more literal interpretation of that, a long time ago. But now it’s really more of a show. Men fly around and show off, but it’s less to attract a mate and more to show off to someone you already have an attraction to. Or to get someone to ask you out, sometimes. It’s more for the fun of it and the tradition.”

“It sounds interesting,” I said.

“It should start in a couple of weeks. That’s the peak of the season,” Nor said. “I can show you around a bit, if you’d like.”

“Sure. If you’re not going to be too busy trying to find a soulmate,” I said, nudging him playfully in the side. He shrugged, glancing away.

“I’ve never actually participated all that much in it,” he said. “I’ve been kind of focused on my studies with my aunt. I spent most of my time at the last few festivals working with the other healers.”

“You should get out more, then. I can help your aunt out, if you want. Then you can go off and see the sights.”

“I already told you I’d show you around,” Nor protested. “And it’ll be your first festival.”

“Look, at least get a little time to yourself,” I said. “I can help out, you know.”

“We’ll see,” Nor said, which was as close to agreeing as I thought he was going to get.

The weeks passed slowly, with excitement ramping up as the festival got closer. I could almost feel the tension buzzing in the air, getting ready to overflow. By the time it had arrived, I was almost swept up in the rising excitement.

The fairground for the festival was a large clearing in the center of the island. It had an impressive view of the sky, and the ground was almost entirely covered in tents and attractions. Nor and I were toward the edge of the grounds, in a sort of makeshift medical tent. “We probably won’t be called on for a little bit,” he said once we’d finished setting everything up. “I can show you around.”

“Sure,” I agreed. Nor trotted off, and I followed after, looking around the festival with interest.

Most of it seemed like the sort of festivals I’d seen once or twice when I’d been young. Ever since my chest troubles had set in fully, I’d rarely gone far from my house. It looked mostly like a very fancy market. People showed off their most interesting wares, their most brightly colored or intricately designed trinkets. There were several people slightly younger than Nor picking up things that I assumed were for potential sweethearts. There were also several games, most of them for children, but a few clearly styled for adults. The food was the usual hearty fare that I’d seen at other festivals, enormously delicious and decadent.

“And this all lasts a whole week?” I asked as we made our way back to the healer’s tent. We had gotten sidetracked a few times- there were several musical performances and talent shows, and even a few classes that I’d been interested in taking.

“Well, the first and last days are the biggest ones. But yes, the whole week. For the most part.”

“Then you can take a day or two off and enjoy all this, can’t you?” I said. Nor hesitated for a moment. “I can handle things at the tent. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? It’ll be good for you to get a break.”

Nor hesitated. “I’ll have to ask my aunt.”

“I’ll make sure she says yes,” I said. “You deserve it. Especially after having to take care of me for so long.”

Nor shrugged and mumbled something about it not being a big deal. I laughed clapping him on the shoulder.

“Just take some time off. Okay?”

He agreed, finally, and we returned to the tent. There were a few injuries, of course, mostly young people trying to show off for their potential lovers, but nothing we were overwhelmed with. It took only a bit of persuading for Aerath to give Nor the next day off.

Nor went out only after making sure I kept my infusion on me. “Just be careful,” he said.

“I’m always careful,” I told him. “Now, go. And stop worrying so much.” He made a face, but left for the rest of the fairgrounds, leaving me with Aerath and the other healers.

I only spotted him a few times during the day. He seemed to have attracted a small group of friends by noon. It seemed he could get along well with others, as long as he managed to get out. Well, I reflected, he was a sweetheart. It wasn’t hard to believe that he was able to get along with others.

I’d been breathing relatively easy for so long that I hadn’t really been expecting another attack. So, when the bout of tightness came on with no warning, I was so shocked I couldn’t think of what to do for several panicked moments.

My wheezing attracted Aerath’s attention. She grabbed my shoulder and shoved me down onto a cot. I fumbled for the infusion, and Aerath helped me unstopper it and press it to my lips.

The infusion helped, but my chest still felt tight. I could draw in air, but it wasn’t enough. Black spots started to pop in front of my vision. My chest screamed with pain. I was dying. That thought sat clear and calm in my brain, rising above all the panic like foam over a tide. I’d known it was going to happen. I’d hoped it would take longer. But at least… at least the last few months of my life had been nice. My mind drifted to Nor. Hopefully he wouldn’t blame himself. He didn’t deserve that. He’d been wonderful.

Nor’s face was suddenly over mine. I blinked up at him. Ha. A nice hallucination before everything ended.

“Breathe!” Distantly, I could feel a hand on my chest, another at my mouth. Something sharp and bitter flowed past my lips and I choked, sputtering. My chest loosened abruptly and I sucked in a great breath, coughing and choking.

Nor, who I was gradually realizing was actually there and not just a hallucination, rolled me onto my side. Some of the solution drained from my mouth as I coughed it up. Nor rubbed my back vigorously, prompting another round of coughing.

Gradually, the tightness eased to just a faint raspiness and a raw pain. I sat up as Nor sank into a seat, weak with relief. “I thought you were going to die,” he said faintly.

“I did too.” My voice was gravely and everything felt raw. “The infusion wasn’t working. What did you use?”

“It was experimental,” Nor said a little sheepishly. “I’ve been trying to make it stronger, something that works better.”

“Thank goodness it did,” I said. I got slowly off the cot where I’d collapsed. Nor stood as well, staying close by like he was preparing to catch me.

“Maybe we should fine somewhere to rest,” Nor said. “The attack probably took it out of you.”

Despite your protests, Nor followed you back home and insisted on staying with you. “Just in case,” he kept repeating.

Nor kept near my side for the next few days, even when I tried to gently push him to spend time elsewhere and enjoy the event. The only times he seemed willing to leave was when I was going with him, at which point he took great enthusiasm in showing me around the various games and events that were being held. Being near him allowed even me to make some new friends- those who would have been unsettled by the sight of some strange, wingless creature seemed reassured enough by Nor’s friendly presence to approach.

Despite his insistence on sticking with me, I did convince him to take another day off for the last day of the festival. It was the day of the mating ceremony, and, given that Nor was of proper age, possibly even a little old, to participate in it, I wanted to give him time to do so.

The showing started at noon sharp, when the sun was at its zenith. Most of the people flying were male, though a few women had painted their tails red and were flying as well. A few would take off at a time and move in carefully coordinated dances. Some were conservative and simple, others were aggressive and risk-taking. Eventually, they would land back in the throng of people staring at the sky. Some of them landed and slipped off with a single partner. Others landed and seemed to attract a group, each of the admirers vying for attention.

After about an hour, I meandered off to the bank of a nearby river. Watching harpies fly was interesting, but it did get old after a while and I was getting a crick in my neck from looking up.

I had only been soaking my feet in the river for a few minutes when Nor walked up to me and sat down next to me. “Wondered where you’d gone,” he said. “Doing all right?”

“Fine. You don’t need to be so worried.”

Nor dipped his talons into the water. “Mm. I guess. But I do anyway.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” I said. “You spent half of the festival trailing after me like I would collapse the instant you took your eyes off me. And now you’re missing out on the flight ceremony.”

It was hard to tell with his deeply tanned skin, but I thought Nor went a little pink. “I wasn’t really planning to fly anyway,” he said.

“No one caught your eye?” I asked. There was a long pause. “Nor?”

“Not as such,” he said. “I mean… Sort of.”

“And you’ve been spending all your time trying to look after me instead of enjoying the festival with her,” I said. “You know, I don’t need you to hover around me. You don’t need to feel guilty if anything happens to me. I’ve known I’m probably not going to live that long.”

Nor’s expression twisted a little bit. “I’ve been trying to fix that. I think I’ve got a concoction right. If you take it daily, it should help you-”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “Hey. You don’t need to spend all your time on me, you know? You can have a life. You’re not responsible for me.”

“It’s not about that,” Nor said. “I wasn’t worried about you. Well, not just that. I…” He stopped for a moment. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

Oh. That created a runny sensation in my chest, like my heart flipped over. “You wanted to-”

“Don’t be that surprised. I haven’t really been subtle about it,” Nor said. “Yes. I like being around you. Why did you think I kept inviting you to do stuff with me and stayed with you instead of going to the festival?”

“I thought you just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to suffocate in your absence,” I said.

“A little bit. But mostly because I like you,” he said. He peered into my face, a tentative smile on his lips. “You don’t seem upset?”

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m pleased, actually.”

“Really?” Nor’s face was quite close to mine. His lips were parted. I could feel the soft warmth of his breath.

“Really.” Our lips were quite close to touching. Just before making contact, Nor seemed to stall, hesitation overcoming desire. I smiled and leaned in, pressing our lips together in a gentle moment of contact.

Neither of us had much experience kissing, so it was a bit clumsy and we clacked teeth more than once. Still, when we broke apart, I felt breathless in the most positive way I’d ever experienced.

“We should go back,” Nor said, still staring at me. “I… I think I want to participate in the ceremony after all.”

I smiled. “I’ll be watching.”

#exophilia #harpy #harpy boyfriend #harpy lover #monster boyfriend #monster lover #ocXoc #MxF #Nor

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

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Before the Night Ends

Dean/Castiel, 2.1k words, post-Wedding/pre-Honeymoon

ao3

It's been a wedding for the ages. Dean and Castiel finally tied the knot, with guests flying in from all across America, Heaven, Hell - even the Empty. But everything must come to an end, and after a wonderful Roadhouse reception Dean and Cas drove off in Baby and off towards their honeymoon.

Except, it's a long drive from Kansas plains to California beaches. They stop close to midnight at a motel along the highway, to sleep, celebrate their wedding night and that it's Valentine's Day, too.

There’s a motel off Highway 70 called Angel’s Paradise, first established in the early 1900s, and last renovated in 1982. The owners back then, who remain so today, envisioned heaven as some tropical destination. That meant each room, alike in their simplicity and functionality, would be redone along these guidelines. Walls plastered with paper-print palm fronds and blooming, pink flowers. Bathrooms tiled a light blue – like waters from the clearest ocean – and little soaps shaped like shells to match the shell-patterned shower curtain. They’d have an entertainment unit housing a small television set would double as a dust collector, various ocean-themed knick-knacks cluttered atop it, ranging from homemade to store bought. A wicker table situated between two wicker chairs, a wicker dresser placed next to the entertainment unit and a wicker bed-or-beds layered by their own palm fronds, matching the walls. Finally, tying the décor together was a little (wicker) side table near the door with a plastic conch set to catch keys or loose change or cigarette ash. Given these changes, any customer might imagine they were in Florida rather then Colorado, or it was June instead of February. Especially in the crown jewel of Angel’s Paradise, the Honeymoon Suite.

Except the Suite’s current boarders were very aware of where and when they are. Probably because they have yet to see their room for the night.

Dean tucks his hands into his elbows, shivering outside the Suite while Cas fiddles with its doorknob. “Come on,” he whines, “what’s the hold-up?”

Cas pauses, turning to Dean. “Sorry,” he says, “the lady at the counter – she said they were having issues since the last occupants. Something about them breaking the lock?”

“Fuckin’ a…” Dean hisses, bouncing now. An icy wind cuts across the parking lot, Dean defenseless to it because he forwent a heavier jacket and how thin the material of his suit was. Castiel looks marginally warmer than Dean, wrapped in his trademark trench coat. Still, Dean notices how his hands tremble while holding the key. Cas’s hand flicks to the left, Dean’s gaze catching the silver band wrapped around his ring finger. One day, he may get used to it. Dean hopes he never does and can experience the same flutter of warmth rippling through his heart from seeing it. He leans into Cas, Dean dropping his head onto Cas’s shoulder. “Who do I have to pray to for this door to open?”

“No one,” Cas declares, lock clicking in time with his words, “because it’s open!”

Dean curses under breath, smiling. “Great,” he says, “let’s get in there, then – hey… hey!”

Swept off his feet, Dean falls into the loving grip of his husband. Cas places one arm at his back, supporting most of the weight, while the other arm traps Dean’s knees, keeping his legs bent and Dean unable to wriggle himself free. Cas smiles down at him, laughing.

“You think this is so funny,” Dean scowls, holding onto Cas’s tie like it were a lifeline. “You little shit –“

“Mr. Shit, Dean,” Cas interrupts, kicking the door open and striding past the threshold, “I did take your last name, after all.”

“My mistake…” He huffs, burying his head in Cas’s chest while he uses the fingers not squeezing Cas’s tie to comb the hairs at his husband’s neck. “Dean and Castiel Shit… I can see the monogramed towels already.” Dean closes his eyes, purring like a kitten while he absorbs the heat that radiates from Cas. It’s inhuman how much of a furnace he was, especially after giving up his grace to live as a human, to be human with Dean. Like always, Dean’s smile widens at the thought. He tries hiding his rapidly flushing face, but Cas tears Dean off of him. He ungraciously dumps Dean onto the bed, blue eyes betraying his cool demeanor as they glow with mirth from Dean’s startled squawking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Going to get the bags,” he says, moving towards the door, “Why don’t you get comfortable, I’ll only be a moment.”

Dean shakes his head, situating himself better on the bed. He sits at the foot of it, toeing off his snakeskin boots and then peeling off the dark grey dress socks he wore with them. While pulling at his tie, Cas returns with their bags. He doesn’t close the door after, and a blustery chill fills the space. Goosepimples erupt in scattered bunches up and down Dean’s arms. “Close the door!” he yells, dumping the tie onto the slowly growing pile of discarded clothing. His suit jacket joins his tie and socks and boots as Cas deposits their bags by the television. He then hits the door with his elbow, shutting out the wind. Cas gestures at the closed door with a flourish and wry grin. Dean scoffs, “Ugh, who’s bright idea was it to do this in winter?”

“The same man who, on his birthday, said,” Cas drifts closer, helping Dean unbutton his shirt, “and I quote, ‘If you think you can propose to me and not expect us to get married as soon as possible, then you don’t know what you’re signing up for… buddy’.” Cas eases the shirt off Dean’s shoulders, kissing the exposed skin right above his t-shirt. “For the record,” Cas adds, whispering into his collarbone, “I expected it. It was one of the reasons why I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Dean remembers. Their family, together, celebrating Dean’s birthday. His first birthday free from Chuck’s machinations, with a cake Jack spent all day baking and presents that lined the end of the table. He held Cas’s hand as he blew out the candles, mind blank because nothing he could wish for would match the happiness he felt in that moment. He tells Cas this after he asks what he wished for. And Cas, of course, proceeds to kiss him. Cas kisses him while Eileen cut the cake, while Jack helped plate them, and while Sam clapped Dean’s shoulders in warning to reign it in. Dean pulled back, gasping, unsure how he might respond to his then-boyfriend’s passion. Then Cas asked him that all-important, heart-stopping, mind-blowing question, opened a velvet box, and Dean knew exactly what to say.

“I would’ve waited,” Dean reveals, helping Cas with his clothes as Cas guides Dean’s legs out of his slacks. “Everyone knows how long I’ve waited to tell you I love you… I would’ve waited, even if we died and we had to get married in heaven.” Dean pecks Cas’s lips, divesting him of both jackets and his button-down shirt. “I’m glad we didn’t have to, though.”

“So am I.”

They stand together in t-shirts and boxers, barely an inch of space between them. No one speaks, not that they have to, but the usually comfortable silence makes Dean nervous. His focus drifts from Cas and onto the plastic conch behind him. Then, he notices how the rest of the room is decorated. Dean giggles, “Wow… it’s, this place is…”

Cas nods. Dean needn’t say anything else. “You should’ve seen the inside,” he snickers, “the staff were wearing Hawaiian shirts and shark-tooth necklaces.”

“Hey,” Dean shoves him, “don’t diss Hawaiian shirts.” He collects his clothes and boots, bringing them over to their duffels. “I’ve got about three packed away in here, and I’m planning on buying at least a few more before our honeymoon ends.”

“Should they even be called Hawaiian shirts if we’re not in Hawaii?” Cas asks. Dean hears the mattress squeak, and guesses his husband sat on the bed. He digs through the duffel, Cas monologuing in the background. “Are they called Coloradan shirts since we’re in Colorado? If we buy them in California, won’t they be Californian Shirts? Or is it because they’re made in Hawaii, and then shipped elsewhere? Can you imagine it – shirt factories, dotting the beaches? Oh, I’d hope the workers making all these Hawaiian shirts are at least being paid a fair wage, given how popular they seem to be…”

“There’s no factories on any beaches,” Dean tells him, “and – hate to burst your bubble, angel – but I doubt Hawaiian shirt makers are paid what they deserve, regardless of where their factories are.” Cas hums in that same, sullen note he usually does when the beginning notes of Sarah McLachlan play and Dean can’t switch channels fast enough. He folds his clothes, setting them aside. Then, Dean sneaks his hand into his stack of clean boxers, finding the surprise he hid for his husband. “Hey,” Dean rises, “capitalism sucks, but we can’t let it ruin our trip.” Dean drops onto Cas’s lap, delighting in the tiny ‘oof’ that escapes from his husband. “Here,” he says, “I was saving this for later… but hell, we’re running out of time. I’d rather give it to you before the night ends than a day later.” Dean hands him an envelope, Cas’s name scrawled on the front. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“A card?” Cas asks, flipping the envelope back and forth, “Dean… you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“’Course I did…” Dean presses a kiss to Cas’s temple, ruffling his hair. “It’s Valentine’s Day… probably the first Valentine’s Day I actually wanted to celebrate in a long time, because I’ve got someone I love and want to celebrate. And sure, it’s not like we didn’t do just that… in front of all our friends and families… and a few exes… and uninvited guests –“

“The point, Dean?”

“Sorry,” Dean lays his head atop Cas’s, watching him peel away the envelope’s glue. “We’ll have tons more holidays and anniversaries to celebrate in the future… I just didn’t want our first Valentine’s Day to be overshadowed by our wedding. You mean so much to me that I’m not gonna just lump the two together like you’re some kid who was unlucky enough to be born on Christmas. You deserve it all.” Cas flips the envelope, shaking its contents free. A pair of red panties floats onto his outstretched hand. “Not just some stinkin’ card.”

Cas squeezes the panties. “Are you –?”

“About to show you how friggin’ fantastic married sex is?” Dean wrangles the panties from Cas’s fist, waving it about like a flag. “You bet. Let me slip these on and…“ He starts towards the bathroom, Cas slowly chasing him.

“You don’t have to,” his husband growls, “you can change here –“

“Cas, I won’t be long –“

“I don’t know if I can wait!”

“You’ll have to!” Dean closes the door on Cas’s face, laughing as he hears his husband bang against the door in protest. He yells for Dean, but Dean ignores him. Dean brings his hand to his face, covering his mouth with both it and the panties he carries. They smell like cherries. He forgot to tell Cas they’re edible. Cas will figure that out later.

He’ll also give Cas his real card later, as well. The one he wrote using all the words Dean was too afraid to say at the altar. Little details about the way Cas hogs all the blankets when he sleeps, and how his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and that Cas’s hugs chase away dark thoughts better than any drink might’ve. There were also bigger things he mentioned, in this card. About Cas and his unwavering faith in Dean, even at times where he didn’t deserve it. About the despair that bloomed whenever Cas left his side, a bouquet of horrid, wilted roses growing rampantly over his heart and piercing it with their thorns during those awful times it seemed their last goodbye truly was. About the love Cas inspired within Dean that changed his life, from the very beginning, from the touch of Cas’s hand on his shoulder. That simple act which broke him free from Chuck’s wheel again and again and again. Dean couldn’t say any of this in a crowded room. He doubts he can with only Cas. He already cried enough for one day. So, they’ll have sex instead. After they’ve burned through the remaining fumes that linger in their tanks, Dean will present the card, curl against Cas’s side with his head tucked underneath his husband’s chin, and listen while Cas reads how much he means to Cas.

But that won’t be until later. Now, Dean shimmies out of his boxers. He pulls the panties on, flicking the bow twice once it’s settled. “Are you ready?” Dean croons, jiggling the knob, “because it’s time to ride ‘em, cowboy!”

Cas pries the door loose, almost ripping it off its hinges as pull Dean forward into a searing kiss. Dean smiles into it, letting Cas take lead. Dean’s gift were the panties. Cas’s gift is putting in the work to get them off. Cas throws Dean onto the bed, his mouth attacking Dean’s neck. His hand trails down Dean’s side, tickling and teasing him.

He couldn’t have written a better ending to his story. Or imagine a better beginning to his next.

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel wedding

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monster-bait · 4 years

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Monster Match: Sebastien the Werecat; M Werecat x F Human, NSFW

Monster Match for @de-couleur: I'm 23, quite independent (I moved from the US to Korea and regularly do solo trips), I LOVE cats (there are cats in the park near my apartment that I made friends with cause I can't have a pet cat), I'm a romantic and I love the "old fashion" romance stuff: bringing a girl flowers, writing love letters, etc. I'd love a guy who has a significant size difference from me (5'3) and loves to cuddle.

The airport was crowded for a Monday

You shifted on the hard bench, breath catching when a fresh wave of arrivals began to flood down the escalator, heading to baggage claim. The conveyor belt before you jerked into motion, luggage making a slow parade before the eager travelers. You watched harried businessmen snatch up sleek black cases, barking into cell phones as they headed to the doors, couples gathering up bags together, and families reuniting.

A young woman came down the escalator, gripping the handle of her carry-on, scouring the crowd with an anxious expression. The moment she found the object of her search was evident by the smile that split her face, the way she bounced lightly on her toes as she waited for the escalator to deliver her to the baggage claim area.

Your insides seemed to swoop and curl as she rushed forward, throwing herself into the outstretched arm of a laughing man, feeling like a voyeur to their happy reunion, an anonymous witness to their clasped hands and their long kiss.

You wondered how Sebastien would greet you.

You had met him two years earlier, shortly after your move, when sakura season had been upon the land. It was the first spring spent in your new home, and you wanted to take a day trip, to get away and experience a leisurely hanami, the viewing of the flowers, when one was meant to enjoy the beauty of the cherry blossoms and reflect on the transient nature of beauty.

After some brief online research, the castle ruins in Maizura park in Fukuoka called to you, the ideal place to enjoy the fleeting beauty of the flowers, and reflect on life. The ferry from Busan to Fukuoka left several times a day, the perfect plan.

He had been there, taking pictures of the ruins.

It had been immediately clear that he was not the average tourist. Compared to the clusters of people taking pictures, his equipment was expensive, and his pace languid and unhurried. You'd admired his striking silhouette in the late-afternoon sun: broad shoulders that tapered to narrow hips and long, graceful limbs. A group of chattering Dutch tourists moved between where you stood and where the handsome man slowly rose from where he’d crouched, regrettably obscuring your view of his nicely rounded backside as he stood.

Your eyes met once they’d passed, as if he’d been waiting, and his smile—sharp and confident—gave you an instant case of the butterflies. He turned back to the ruins a moment later, and you'd continued your stroll, feeling your cheeks warm.

“A karaage chicken and a beer, please.”

The food stalls have been busy, unsurprising considering how crowded the park was that day, and you’d been waiting online for nearly fifteen minutes, mindlessly scrolling your social media until it was your turn to stand before the harried-looking woman taking orders.

“Make that two of each,” a deep voice sounded behind you, his long arm handing over payment before you could blink. The man from the ruins grinned down, his dark eyes crinkled with his smile as your food was passed over the small partition, and you’d found yourself returning the smile with one of your own, the butterflies making themselves known once more.

His name was Sebastien, and his accent was oddly continental, giving you very little clue on where it was he called home. “I’ve lived all over,” he shrugged with another easy smile. “France, Germany, Philippines, the States...we never stayed in one spot for very long when I was growing up.”

“Military brat?”

“Something like that,” he murmured, cocking a dark eyebrow with another grin. “Yours is definitely not a local accent.”

He’d seemed delighted by your confession that you’d picked up and moved to Korea on your own, just for the adventure of it, asking your opinion of the restaurants in your neighborhood, and how you’d assimilated to the cultural differences since your move.

He was a photographer, you’d learned, and might start his week on the Mississippi delta and end it staring up at the stars above the Serengheti. He’d been knowledgeable about the castle ruins, telling you the history of the sight, and when a man passed, selling small hand-ties of flowers in a basket, he bought one for you, declaring that you needed something physical for your hanami experience.

If your cheeks had grown any hotter, you might have combusted.

As you sat together, a cat had come winding through the ruins to stare down your lunch. Strays were plentiful in tourist areas such as this, but you’d never seen one act in such an overtly friendly manner, as the cat rubbed its head against your companion’s shin, mewing plaintively. Even the cats who lived in the park near your apartment had taken a while to warm up to you, although you considered several of them to be your away-from-home pets.

When the sun began to set, a violet sky providing a stunning backdrop to the pink clouds of sakura blossoms on the trees, you’d realized that it was time to leave, to catch your ferry, and say goodbye to him. Handsome, smart, well-traveled...you’d mentally checked off the traits you found the most appealing, finding he possessed an abundance of them. You’d exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, and he’d promised to stay in touch, before he’d kissed you.

There was something different in his kiss, you’d known immediately. Something primal and unfamiliar, but not at all unpleasant. You’d briefly dated a werewolf back home, before you’d moved away, and his kiss had possessed the same sort of animal heat that you’d tasted then.

You hadn’t expected to actually hear from him again. The fleeting beauty of flowers, you’d thought on your train ride home, raising the small bouquet he’d given you to your nose, like the fleeting blush of flirtation.

It had been a surprise then, when your phone chimed with a text that same night.

Just making sure you got home alright

Had a lot of fun today!

It had been the start of daily messages. Texts from him would come at all hours, and despite the fact that you were often continents apart, your conversations would continue unabated for days, easy and effortless. His name on your phone screen would often be the last thing you’d see at night, and the messages that he’d sent overnight while you slept gave you a reason to smile, catching up during your daily commute.

Did you see that news story about the werewolf tribe in Malaysia?

You'd bitten your lip, quickly typing the message as your train hurtled through the tunnel one morning. He’d never come out and said that he was something other than human, and you’d never made mention of your suspicions, but you thought it was time to let him know that it didn’t matter to you in the slightest.

The Malay tribe in question had been profiled on a popular world news station, their history and customs discussed openly for the first time.

I did, it’s incredible that they’ve managed to stay so insular all this time

Here goes nothing, you thought, tapping out your reply.

It talked about how painful the change is, especially for young people

Bones breaking and stuff

Is it really like that? Was it that bad for you?

You waited, wedged between other commuters, counting the seconds as your phone remained silent.

You’d walked into work with your heart in your throat, forcing a smile as your co-workers greeted you. You ruined everything. Checking your phone a final time before stashing away your belongings, the black cloud of dread that had gripped you the entirety of the four block walk from the train dissolved, a wave of relief washing up your spine.

Not really, but cats are better than dogs ;)

I wonder if it has much to do with diet?

I’d be curious to see the stats on bone density and childhood malnutrition

I need your address please

Several weeks later you'd received a lovely, hand-painted parasol, along with the first letter.

He couldn't possibly have known that you had a weakness for handwritten notes and letters, you often thought with heated cheeks, couldn't have known how many times you read it, giving it a place of honor upon your desk. When a second came, then a third, you'd picked up a decorative box at a street market to keep them in safely.

He told you about the city skyline, if there was a city wherever he was. Otherwise you received a narration of the wide open sky, the waves on the ocean, of the slope of mountains and the color of wheat. He pondered if you’d prefer the heat of the tropics over the chilly rain and fog of the Scottish highlands, fields of farmland or waves crashing on miles of uninhabited beach.

It was impossible to write him back with the way he traveled. You had to settle for emailing him your responses, long letters full of your ambitions and insecurities, wondering what scared him, what his secret passion were, where he'd like to call home.

You never discussed your letters in your daily text messages, nor in the weekly video calls you tried to make room for. The things you wrote to each other felt too intimate to be discussed in such a pedestrian way, so they were kept to his handwritten missives and the responses you wrote in the glow of your laptop’s screen.

Now he was almost here, back in the flesh, for the first time in two years.

Hello, I'd like to inquire into the sofa for rent in your apartment? Does it come with turn down service?

Two weeks. You'd have him to yourself for two weeks. Truly to yourself, for your roommate had decided not to extend her teaching contract and had flown home just a few days earlier.

You straightened as the next wave of people descended from the upper level, crowding onto the escalator. Your heart began to thump as you considered what kind of visit it would be. You had to consider that your feelings for him might be one-sided. Sebastien's letters, while wildly intimate, were never sexually or romantically charged. He might want to sleep on the sofa after all...

Closing your eyes, you imagined running your fingers through his silky dark hair, his arms strong around you...the scrape of his five o'clock shadow against your skin as the fingers in his hair tightened, your breath catching as he kissed you, covering your body with his own…

When your eyes opened, he was there.

You'd forgotten how tall he was, you realized. He towered over the throng of people moving down the escalator. Tall and slender with broad shoulders and an unhurried air; his face splitting into a smile when he caught sight of you.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion, as if you were under water. Rising from the bench, your arms opened, mirroring his, in anticipation of his hug.

Sebastien dropped his bag, exclaiming in excitement as he engulfed you, lifting you easily into the air as you squeaked. You weren’t expecting to be scooped up and twirled, weren’t expecting his warm lips to press to yours, his unfamiliar animal heat to send sparks up your veins.

You had hoped for it, but hadn't allowed yourself to expect it.

When your fingers slid into his dark, nails scraping his scalp, he growled against your lips, and you wondered why you had been worried about the nature of his visit at all. Of course this isn't one-sided.

"Look at how gorgeous you are," he sighed once you were back on the ground. Beaming up, you gripped the front of his shirt pulling him down to you. You were buoyed by his words, by the nerves and excitement of seeing him again, by the uniqueness of your relationship, the old-fashioned romance of his missives and how special he made you feel. The kiss you shared this time was slower, with more heat, and your lips tingled when he finally pulled away.

“We should go,” he murmured. “Places like this usually have decency laws, and you’re tempting me to break all of them.”

You trembled the entire way back to your apartment. He had insisted on getting a cab, not wanting to wrestle his roller bag on the train. “Besides, I’m not letting go of your hand,” he announced cheerfully, pulling you into another light kiss before hailing a cab at the taxi queue.

“Are you sure you’re not going to get in trouble having me here?”

The hallway was quiet as the elevator dinged open, and you shushed him, pulling him quickly to your door. The company-provided apartments were small but comfortable, particularly now that your roommate was gone, but he wasn't wrong—it would be frowned upon for you, a young, unmarried woman, to have a male houseguest. You didn't care. Your replacement roommate was not due to arrive until the end of the month, giving you the unexpected boon of privacy during his stay, and you had no intention of letting him stay in a hotel.

“I really was going to get a hotel room, you know,” he laughed, as you tugged him inside.

“Well, now you don’t need to. And we have the place to ourselves the whole time you’re here,” you announced. “Bathroom is here, the kitchen is miniature, but its functional...I got some of that electrolyte water you like. Living room, the advertised sofa, turndown service is an extra fee...the second bedroom, the new girl won’t be here for a few weeks...and here’s my room.”

You swallowed hard, opening the door and ducking your head, lest he see your blush.

“Hmmm...very nice,” he mused, poking his head into your small bedroom. “How much is an upgrade in accommodations?” he asked, with a devilish smile. “This looks a lot more comfortable than the sofa.”

You pretended to ponder, looking him over as you gripped your chin. “Hmmm...I’m sure negotiations could be made.”

You squealed again when he lifted you, bouncing you down on the bed. “I’m a freelancer, miss. Negotiations are what I’m good at.”

Fashion mores in South Korea dictated that women were to remain modestly covered in high necklines...but short, school girl-style skirts were completely acceptable. You might have complained occasionally about the absurdity of the micro-mini lengths, but you were glad for your own short skirt just then.

Sebastien kissed up your legs, finding you ticklish behind the knees, knowledge you knew he’d exploit eventually. Your breath hitched as his lips rose, coming out in shallow pants when he reached your thighs.

“Are the negotiations satisfactory so far?”

Wide hands covered your knees, his long, slender fingers darting out to tease your ticklish skin before pushing up your legs, warming the skin he’d just kissed, flipping up your skirt and opening your legs before his seeking mouth. By the time his lips landed on the edge of your panties, you were panting.

“I-I think you’ve made a compelling opening statement,” you wheezed, earning a deep chuckle that buzzed against your skin.

A trail of kisses, followed by the heat of his tongue, dampening the outside of the thin fabric. When he pushed the material aside, his tongue lightly traced the very edge of your slickened folds. Back and forth, a teasing pressure until your hips bucked reflexively.

You watched as your panties went sailing across the room, after Sebastien tugged them down your hips in one fast motion. His tongue was unnaturally hot, like a plume of lava licking at your most sensitive parts, but the heat was secondary to the pleasure. The tip of his tongue traced lightly, followed by a long, slow lick with a flattened tongue, exploring your silky walls and teasing around that pearl of nerves until you were arching into his mouth.

When he finally began to lick you in earnest, you mewled. Back and forth, back and forth, punctuated by sucking kisses, his lips pulling on your clit until you gasped, his tongue lashing it as soon as it was released. When you came against his tongue, Sebastien hummed, lapping at your release until you gripped his hair, too sensitised for him to continue.

He was incredibly pleased with himself.

His body completely covered yours as he climbed over you as you melted into the mattress, his smile wide and his chin glistening. Your fingers were uncoordinated as you fumbled with his belt buckle, distracted over the press of his erection, until he gripped your hand, squeezing gently before pushing it aside, opening his faded jeans himself.

You gasped as he pressed into you, his overwhelming heat all consuming. The moon would be full by the end of the week, you realized, just before arching beneath him; the thick, burning heat of him pressing into your inner walls and making your breath hitch. It was too much: too much heat, too full, to thick, and in what seemed like no time at all, you were clenching around him, the world a spinning ball of fire, raking your nails down his back, until the molten heat of him filled you and you combusted into blackness.

The sun had not yet risen when you stirred in your bed several days later. You were alone.

He’d left you two days earlier, kissing your nose as he readied himself for the turn, citing a fellow photographer, an american werewolf who had given him leads on several safe spots.

You did not want to sit in your bed alone another moment, you decided, raising with a stretch. There was a food stall that began making their kkwabaegi at dawn. You would get up and procure some, bringing some home for him, if he returned today. The little park was empty, as you’d known it would be. The dough of your fried pastry was hot, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, and the enticing aroma drew out several of your feline friends as you lowered yourself to a bench.

The sun was just beginning to warm the city in a golden glow, peeking between the buildings. He didn't have a reason to rush off, he’d murmured into your hair as you laid against him one night; he could stay longer than the two weeks he’d originally planned. He’d need to move out of your apartment, of course...but that didn't mean he couldn’t form a new base of operations. The sunlight winked off the trickling water feature as you broke off tiny pieces of dough for the cats.

There was something there in the shadows you realized, though you curiously felt no fear. The sun was shining, the morning was quiet, and you were in love. Maybe he would stay.

A sleek black panther slunk from the shrubbery, smaller cats flanking him with hungry mewls, and you laughed, holding out a piece of the kkwabaegi. Shining, golden eyes, long and muscular. Cats are better than dogs. Maybe he would stay.

You beckoned the felines closer, flipping open the box of treats. After all, you’d bought one for him anyways.

#Exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #werecat #werecat boyfriend #werepanther #monster match #Monsterbait writes #monster x reader #monster x human

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triviareads · 3 years

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Peccavi (In which the Bridgertons Talk About India)

1846

It had long since gotten dark by the time the family slowly traipsed into the drawing room at Bridgerton House. Dinner had ran overlong, perhaps due to the gaiety of the younger set, and the unwillingness of the older set to quash it, even as Aunt Sophie had quietly told them her and Benedict received a letter from Alexander, their son, who was now serving under Sir Hugh Gough somewhere in the northern regions of the Indian subcontinent. The pallor in Sophie’s expression and the dark shadows marring the skin under her eyes indicated nothing good, although none of the family had pressed further with all the children about.

But now, the younger, unmarried cousins had been chivvied off to bed, and Charlotte, along with the remaining family, eyed Sophie and Benedict with some trepidation.

“We didn’t want to say anything more in front of the children,” Aunt Sophie said at last, “but we received a letter from Alex, dated some months ago. He said, then, that they were preparing for war.”

Charlotte’s gaze flickered questioningly towards her husband Lord Clairmont, who looked unsurprised. But Charlotte could not help but shiver, faced with the sheer lack of knowledge her aunt, uncle, all of them, were in possession of, even as Alex was in danger, hurt, possibly dead an ocean away.

Charlotte’s mother spoke first.

“I’m sure he’ll be alright, Sophie. He is such a brave boy,” Kate said in soothing tones to her distraught sister-in-law. “He was always that way- brave, honorable, sensible- the first one in the family to enlist.”

“Besides,” Benedict added, in a seeming attempt to not only comfort his wife, but himself, “Alex is a commissioned officer. He certainly won’t be in the first line of defense. The native troops are there for that.”

“I know,” Sophie whispered. “But I cannot help but wonder- cannot help but think what could have changed since then-” she broke off, her breath hitching.

“Why is this happening?” Aunt Daphne asked quietly. “Why now?”

“I don’t know- well-” Sophie sniffed and unfolded the letter once more, “-He did mention some disagreement- infighting within the Punjab state, I think, but I could hardly make sense of it.”

“Their military is disordered, corrupt, according to Alex,” Benedict stated grimly. “They are a danger to all of them.”

“And so,” Uncle Michael sighed heavily, “It is up to our lot, as usual, to step in and keep the peace.” Michael had briefly been a colonial administrator under the Marquess of Hastings, during his tenure as Governor-General, in Madras.

“And the Company has its own interests too, Uncle,” Edmund added after a beat. “Is that not why they annexed the… Sindh Province, I think? Or what the war with the Chinese was about- the continued trade of opium?”

“Ghastly habit,” Aunt Lucy murmured.

“Free trade must prevail, my love,” Uncle Gregory, who had done rather well for himself by way of such investments, reminded his wife. “We are still Whigs.”

(Charlotte supposed free trade went hand-in-hand with the enormous profits the government was reaping off of this continued trade).

“There is… a greater purpose to all this,” Lord Geoffrey Findlay-Watt, cousin Caroline’s husband, said suddenly. He was generally a quiet man, jovial and happy to cede his share of attention onto others. This prompted everyone to look at him with rapt attention. What Geoffrey did for the Foreign Office was still a bit unclear, although they never really bothered to inquire further. For all all intents and purposes, Lord Geoffrey was merely a third son of a marquess who had become a part of the government bureaucracy.

“There has long been sentiment among certain elements within the government that Russia seeks to steal away our colonies in the east, especially India. They do this by invading much of Central Asia, slowly expanding their sphere of influence, cutting off our trade routes, port access, and such. The British government has a vested interest in preventing our crown jewel from falling into their hands.”

"Thus our efforts in Afghanistan and Sindh,” Lord Clairmont murmured.

Lord Geoffrey finished with, “A Russia-controlled India, indeed, a Russia-controlled Asia, would be nothing short of disastrous for the empire.”

“And so we make war instead,” Charlotte concluded from this little speech.

“We make war to make peace,” David corrected with the partisan fervency he had acquired after four years in the Commons as an MP of East Sussex.

Charlotte raised a brow at this statement. “You’ve been listening far too much to Palmerston,” she told David.

Charlotte's father turned to her with an odd look on his face. “And how exactly would you know of Palmerston’s rhetoric?” Anthony asked.

“She’s been the audience of many of his speeches, sir,” her husband spoke up for her, glancing at her and adding with the air of an inside-joke, “both directly and otherwise.”

Ah yes, one of Palmerston’s favorite methods of opinion-collecting: Whisper some policy or idea in the formidable Lady Palmerston’s ear, and she would proceed to casually mention it in during a party and gauge all the reactions before returning to her husband with this valuable intelligence.

“Of course,” Simon mused, “Pam was always been inclined to take the… active approach.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Aggressive, you mean. Although if you asked him, he would admit only to being a loyal servant of the Queen and Country.”

Palmerston, Charlotte had always thought, was many things, but his only loyalty was to himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Simon said, “particularly when the Tories seem to shy away from any sort of conflict.”

It was Benedict who scoffed and said, “Whatever peace Peel and Aberdeen may profess to want, that does not discount the fact that we are at war, however far away it may be.”

“And now, soldiers like Alex will have to suffer for it, oceans away from their home,” Sophie concluded bitterly.

Charlotte’s brows furrowed. She understood the worry a mother felt for her son, but they had all known he was a soldier, hadn’t they? Hadn’t they known that war was perpetually on the horizon for a man in his profession?

(What was the old line from Horace as he spoke of war- ah, dulce et decorum est … she winced, suddenly recalling the second half of the stanza).

Then again, despite bearing two children herself, Charlotte often wondered why she did not possess the maternal instinct all her aunts naturally seemed to have in spades.

“Things could very well change, Aunt,” Oliver Crane was saying in soothing tones. “The conflict in these princely states could be resolved as quickly as they started. I have seen it with my own eyes. Many of them are merely quarreling over successions and such, and can be speedily appeased.”

Charlotte exchanged looks with her husband. If Lord Geoffrey’s work at the Foreign Office was generally a bit of a question-mark to the family, most of them had absolutely no idea what it was Oliver did. Charlotte knew a bit more than most of them, thanks to her husband. Brilliant, academic prize-winning Oliver had been introduced to the likes of Lord Geoffrey and Lord Palmerston before he had even graduated from Cambridge, and he had gone off to the East under mysterious circumstances, neither as a tourist nor as a soldier. (And Charlotte had her suspicions that his line of work was not precisely diplomatic in nature).

“Oh yes, I forgot you spent some time there, Oliver,” Sophie said. “Where is it that you were again? Anywhere near-” Sophie consulted the letter she was gripping onto, “-this Punjab?”

“Here and there,” Oliver replied vaguely. “I spent some time in Shimla near the end of my tour- I believe that is somewhat close.”

“Shimla?” Uncle Michael said suddenly, looking up from his whisky.

“Do you know of the place, Uncle?” Oliver asked.

A grin split across Michael’s handsome face. “I was there back in ‘22! This was, of course, when hardly any of our lot ventured there- just a group of civil servants like myself, or chaps looking for adventure. Now I hear it has become rather like Brighton.”

“I can attest to that,” Oliver said dryly. “The governor-general, all his attaches, and soldiers regularly summer there now, and of course, where the gentlemen go, the ladies follow. They have quite the merry time, from what I’ve seen.”

“Like a marriage mart in the tropics?” Kate asked smilingly, seemingly determined to bring some levity into their serious drawing room conversation and cheer up her sister-in-law.

“Yes, they now hold balls, concerts, picnics and all manner of diversions up there.”

Even Sophie could not could not hide her fascination with this notion of a little English city tucked away in the Himalayas.

“I remember when Shimla was not much more than the few odd cottages in the jungle, and villages around it,” Michael reminisced, closing his eyes as an almost-tranquil smile graced his lips. “There are those who liken it to England, because of the weather and such, but for me, there was nothing like it- the coolness of the hills even when the land around it would get blazing hot, the fiery sunsets and the long-moon nights, how you could stumble across some ledge high in the hills, and when you looked out, it felt as though you could see all the world before you.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Kate murmured, entranced- the entire room seemed to be. Only Aunt Francesca smiled indulgently up at her husband, as though he had recalled these tales a thousand times.

"And the people!” Michael went on. “Why, I have never met a more obliging race of people. Every morning, they would trudge up from the villages in the foothills, and perform their daily tasks. I remember one could not even take a carriage around the hills, so narrow were the paths, and instead, the ladies would sit in a jampan, a sort of sedan-chair, and four Native men would carry them ‘round. I have yet to meet more hard-working people than them.”

Sophie spoke after this little speech, sounding pained, “I find it curious how you could praise the same people who are currently waging war against us, against people like your nephew.” She looked at her brother-in-law, her moss-green eyes steely.

Before Michael could respond, Kate said quietly, “Come, Sophie, even you know that civilians and soldiers are not one and the same, even if they hail from the same lands.”

“Besides,” David said with confidence to his aunt, “They will not remain the enemy for long, soldier, civilian, or otherwise.”

“What will they be, then?” Charlotte could not help but ask her cousin. She looked around at all of them- Oliver, Geoffrey, Michael, David, her husband- all of them, caught up in the machinations of the Empire, and wondered what knowledge of the future they held.

Something glittered within David’s gaze when he replied. “One among ours.”

#bridgerton #kate sharma #michael stirling #sophie beckett #benedict bridgerton #benophie #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #alexander bridgerton #edmund bridgerton ii #bridgerton fanfiction #period accurate imperialism

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miqojak · 3 years

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🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

Answered here! But another little tid-bit about her stealing away to Little Ala Mhigo, is that she often seeks out a card reader there - Jak will tell you she doesn’t believe in stuff like this...but the woman stopped her once, and read her cards...and they’re always right. Jak’s still suspicious of such things, but the cards have unbiased advice that’s always applicable and eerily on point (it made her very suspicious, the first couple times, that the cards were so specific in content).

Also, there’s a little strip of beach that Jak used to go to in the Mist (still does when she’s out there), that she hadn’t told anyone about - she did her best to keep its location secure, so she could rest in peace, there - her paranoia rarely ever lets her genuinely relax and just chill out...so this spot was/is good for that. I’m used to living close to the beach, and I’ve seen all sorts, and I was reminded of how there are some beaches (often times on little islands people will take a boat to, to go camp on a clear, semi-secluded beach) that you have to basically hack a path through tropical undergrowth to get to - it’s just not a beach used by people often, if at all, and it’s a lot of work to get there...but then you have it to yourself. That was the idea, here - she’ll go out of her way, and do something difficult, if it means she knows she’s safe and will be left the hell alone. (Then she can sunbathe in the nude, or just doodle in her sketchbook while she tans, or skinny dip in the ocean...she likes to bask in the sun! Minus clothes is her favorite option, but that’s hard to do most times. :P)

Jumbo Ask Game

#thanks for asking!#hideaways are a cat's favorite thing #never enough hidey holes to run off to #especially if you're paranoid

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noro-noro-noro · 2 years

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1 long interconnected dream that took a lot of weird twists & turns

dream that I ran into my sister at the grocery store& I couldn't decide what I needed so I ended up waiting in the pastryline with her. everyone was acting so crazy about the pasties & a bunch of Karens were causing a fuss. the pastry part of the store closed at8pm before we'd got our stuff yet,so we ended up walking around downtown looking for a open store, but everything was closed, so we decided to go to another grocery store to buy a frozen key lime pie & let it defrost.

unfortunately my car was parked far away, so we had to run down the highway to get it, but we lived in a tropical area & there were furthermore some kind of mimicking parasite that had replaced all the palm trees so all the trees had swung to face us and slowly lurch towards us as we were running.

(interlude: another dream about the ocean. I was there with my sister again in a small town on a smaller peninsulas that was going to be destroyed. I think set on fire. the day kept repeating. arataki itto was there, but like a toned down version that could be mistaken for a real person at first. i spent a lot of time trying to fix the world, but I couldn't figure it out. on the last day I resigned myself to go fishing with my sister at a place where the water dropped off deeper because you could see fish down there. we started fishing for a while & suddenly they were building an aquarium around my sister & I. the fish got bigger but we still never caught anything.)

I broke my left flipflop but I did manage to get in my car & drive to this antique store next to another grocery store hoping they would sell those cheap $1 flipflops. it was a nicely designed antique store & I realized that I'd forgotten my mask after I got past the front desk. the lady at the front desk was blond with short hair & a blue shirt & when I asked her about shoes she was like "well I don't wear any for this job" so I was like "great thanks!" & proceeded further into the store. she saw that I was barefoot & went "oh honey no!" in exactly the same way that the TikTok about "kindergarten teachers during lockdown" sounded. anyway the store was laid out kind of like a maze & kind of like an Ikea if it was built with rustic ideas in mind rather than everything is white type of feeling. me & my sister checked out this guess room layout on the 3re floor where lots of stuff was crammed in. there was a piano in the wardrobe & a high bed with 3 railings & a ton of cabinets in the bathroom. a little kid with a red cape came in & my sister lifted him up to get at the toys in the top cabinet. it was a real neat store, but they weren't selling shoes & the floor was kind of sawdusty, so I wanted to check the grocery store nextdoor for shoes. as we were walking down the flights of stairs, it changed more to a mansion with my "relatives" (my uncle, my first year design professors Helen, Kuroki from kengan ashura, & two kids that were featureless & just stared at me). a girl I'm not friends with anymore was there too. with the exception of that girl, i knew these were all clones of the originals. we were suddenely in a forested neighborhood rather than a shopping mall & they invited me to check out something in the back of the house, so I put on my right shoe & struggled for a while with my left one because it was still broken & went to the backyard of the house.

I don't remember what was back there. the dxt thing I do remember is that I was running away from them to my mom's neighbors house, which admittedly I've never been inside of. my real uncle answered the front door while the fakes banged on the interior garage door. i told him breathlessly not to let those others in, but it was too late & they were all in the dining room. Kuroki was playing piano in the living room with a blank look on his face & everyone was listening, also blankly. the interior of the house matched my mom's house now probably bc I've never been in my neighbor house. to prove they were fake I walked I & said hi & everyone's face crinkled up with fury & they started running at me. my uncle distracted some but Helen was still after me. the garage (now on the right side of the house) had her car in it, still running. her car was very thin shaped kind of like those kazoo shaped racecars & & I jumped in through the driver's side. her side door was locked so she bellowed in rage & started running around rhe front of the car, but I pulled out of there (narrowly missing my own car, which was sitting in the driveway running for some reason) & true to drive her car away while she howled threats behind me. then it became a dream where I can't drive properly because the shape of the car is against me. i couldn't reach the brake pedal bc half my body was sticking out the door still & the nose of the car was very long. & I accidentally popped the hood which was 7 feet long by 1 foot wide & it wouldn't go down all the way. i almost hit a jogger & the trash truck. my sister ran up to me & said something & I woke up

#dreams

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

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Diary of a Junebug

A visit to Coral Beach

What a fun time at the beach! Coral Beach is such a lovely place - from the clear blue waters and colorful mosaics scattered throughout the boardwalk, it's one of those places ideal for vacationing based on appearance alone. No photoshopping necessary when it comes to taking pictures here!

I'm surprised that I haven't visited the beach sooner since it's about an hour away from the camp. In fact, there's still so many places nearby that I haven't been to yet. The trip was kinda a spur of the moment kind of thing Pancetti, Audie, Snooty, Lyman, and I planned at the last minute. By chance I ran into an old friend who's vacationing there too and now she's coming back with us.

So we spent a couple days at Coral Beach exploring the sights and enjoying the resort and then tomorrow we're heading back to the camp. Of course, I also spent the time catching up with Desi, who's been enjoying the seaside scenery.

Desi Rivera's an aspiring singer-songwriter who hopes to make it big one day. Right now though, she's jumping off the ladder and starting from scratch. It's a risky move, but I think it's a necessary one. Given her talent and ambition, I know that Desi will come out stronger than ever.

I met Desi at summer camp years ago. Even though we only spent one summer together, we kept in touch for a while after that. The summer camp thing was something our parents made us do and to be honest it wasn't really our thing so they didn't push us when we told them that there wasn't going to be a next summer. The experience wasn't terrible - I did make a friend after all - but summer camp and I just didn't click at all. Now that I think about it, it's kinda interesting that as an adult I'm running a camp right now - though this and summer camp are totally different.

Since Desi lived in the town nearby we often ran into each other. As we got older contact became sporadic but we occasionally said hi to each other when our paths crossed. Then as adults we regained contact on social media and have been keeping up with each other since then. Desi often posts covers and original songs, which is how she got her online following. She could've easily made it big if it weren't for certain people.

Desi's journey as a singer-songwriter is sure to become an interesting one. Ever since she could talk, Desi knew she wanted to be a singer. She always had a nice voice, one that became more refined as she got older. Talented songwriter too, with an honest and poetic way with words. And it's a damn shame that her talent has been consistently overshadowed and sidelined for white mediocrity.

Yup, I said it - mediocrity. No disrespect to Meghan Tyler and Too Cool - I mean I can see their commercial appeal, but for the most part, their music is bland and forgettable. Music tastes aside, it is pretty impressive that Desi was in the same circles as people like Meghan and Joe of the Shayne Brothers.

Desi first met the two at a camp for aspiring musicians, the well known Camp Music. She was one of many talented nobodies who wanted a glimpse at stardom. Meghan Tyler is the daughter of pop star Ann Tyler, and it was her who ran the camp, the typical queen bee. I happened to cross paths with Meghan and her friends online (unrelated reasons) and they always gave me a vibe of a high school clique. I interacted with her indirectly a couple times but then actively avoided her when her friends stirred up drama. It's one thing to vagueblog about an ex-friend who screwed you over, it's another to ruin someone's reputation by claiming that they faked their trauma just because you had a petty falling out with them.

Then there's Joe Shayne, best known as the lead singer for the Shayne Brothers. He was amazed by Desi's voice and took an interest in her. The two started off kinda rough with Joe pushing his boundaries and Desi rightfully calling him out on his entitled behavior. The whole thing was kinda like a Cinderella story with Joe trying to figure out who was the singer he overheard while passing by while Desi tried too hard to impress him after realizing who he was. By the end of the summer, they began dating, becoming regulars at Camp Music for the next several years.

Despite what the others were saying, Desi and Joe were going strong for eight years. Desi was associated with the Shayne Brothers, which was a blessing and a curse. As much as she liked Joe and his brothers, she didn't want to be known solely because of her connection to them. They were going to get engaged until last year when Desi broke things off. According to her, things had been kinda rough for a while but they tried - probably a bit too hard, in her words - to stay together. They're still friends but Desi thinks in a year or two they'll drift away, which I think is what she wants.

On one hand it's kinda sad since they've been together for so long. And from what I've heard about Joe, being with Desi helped him a lot as before he met her he was on his way to becoming a short tempered almost has-been. Basically, she made him shape up and consider his future seriously. But aside from their love of music, Desi and Joe were from completely different worlds. In the years since they got together, they've grown into two different people. The two have spoken openly about their breakup and it seems like it's for the best. Sometimes things just don't work out in the end and that's okay.

As for Meghan, Desi always had a complicated relationship with her. Being the fish out of water, Desi tried to impress Meghan, even if it meant dumbing down herself to please Meghan's ego. There was always some sort of competition between them with Desi constantly feeling like she has to prove herself. While Meghan did help Desi out with her connections and fame, Desi never felt she earned her recognition, another reason why she wanted to start from the ground up.

For years Desi was part of Meghan's band, Too Cool. While Desi occasionally had some solos that charted, she and the other members were always overshadowed by Meghan. She considers the whole experience a mixed bag, one that started out exciting but in the end the bad outweighed the good.

A few months ago, not too long after leaving Too Cool, Desi did an insightful interview for a magazine where she spoke honestly about her ups and downs with the band as well as her breakup with Joe. I always felt that she deserved better than Too Cool, especially after reading the interview. From being constantly referred to as "the Mexican one" even though she stated multiple times she's Cuban, to being told to sing slightly off key in order to make Meghan sound better - no wonder she wanted out. It's an eye opening read on the ugly side of the music industry, particularly on how WOC artists are treated.

Following her departure, another member and longtime friend of Meghan, Maria Silva, also left the band for similar reasons. She too had also spoken out about the racism she experienced, having been constantly referred to as "the Chinese one" despite being Filipino. I don't know Maria too well but she comes across as genuine and I wish her well on her solo endeavors.

Right now Desi's taking a break on music, though not entirely. She's been writing songs and making demos but it'll be a while before she releases something. For now Desi wants to celebrate her freedom, starting with a long, well deserved vacation. Then once she's had enough rest and relaxation, she plans to jump back into the music scene with a bang, this time on her own terms with her calling all the shots.

Desi's been teasing me and the campers with what she has in store. In light of the racism she experienced with Too Cool, Desi wants to embrace her Cuban culture more than ever, starting with the music. Mainstream pop radio hits aren't her thing anymore, so she's going for a new sound inspired by her Cuban roots along with her usual pop rock style she's got going on since she began writing songs. She's also considering the idea of doing an album in Spanish, though that'll depend on a lot of factors.

It's nice to see her so excited and passionate about her music - that's one of the things I love about her! Like I said, Desi's got talent and ambition, and I know that she'll successfully make a name for herself without Meghan or Joe's shadows. I mean, the demos I've heard already sound a million times better than pretty much everything Too Cool has done - imagine how the final product will be! Once the album comes out, I'll be one of the first in line to buy and download a copy.

We met up with Desi by chance at the hotel, her room being upstairs. She's been traveling around, crossing off places where she always wanted to visit. So far she's crossed off four places from her list. After Coral Beach she was debating on Hero's Tunnel and Swan Park since they're right next to each other. Since the camp's along the way, I invited her over and hopefully during her time there, she can make up her mind on where to visit first. I know she'll enjoy the camp, especially Saltwater Shores since she's a beach gal.

Coral Beach is such a beautiful place. One of the first things we did when we got there was to pose in front of the fountain and toss a bell in for a wish. Then we checked into the Coral Beach Hotel, where we got a lovely view of the ocean and fountain.

The architecture of the hotel is so pretty, it reminds me of an old village on a tropical island. Along the boardwalk are charming little shops and cafes where we got to enjoy shaved ice and fine handmade souvenirs. I got a set of cute floral teacups, a dot grid notebook with a pretty mosaic cover, a gorgeous seashell necklace, and a painted ukulele.

We went swimming and snorkeling in the ocean, where we got to see the pretty coral the place is known for. Nature can be so fascinating sometimes - the coral really does look like fancy lace! I also collected a bunch of pretty seashells like pearl oysters, which are pretty rare, as well as pink oyster shells and obsidian shells, something I've never seen before. Desi suggested that we go parasailing - her new favorite activity as of recently - so that's what we did and it was a lot of fun! We also went surfing, watched a performance at the theater, shared cocktails during happy hour, and explored the gardens.

Today we went to a mosaic workshop and made some cool decor. Then we went to a ceramics shop where we watched how bowls were made, which was pretty cool. After that we had a late lunch at Sash, where we had poke and butter mochi. Next door was a bookstore where we browsed for a while and then we spent a couple hours at the beach before heading to the hotel for dinner.

Since we aren't leaving until tomorrow afternoon, we had some time to kill so we spent it at the pool, lounging around. Desi says she's looking forward to seeing the camp and meeting up with Daisy Jane. It's so good seeing Desi relaxed and having a great time, especially after what she had to put up with during her time with Too Cool.

It's getting late now and I still have a little bit of packing left to do. The ocean's so pretty at this time of night, the way the light of the stars reflect on the water like sparkles. I can't wait to come back in the near future.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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altarflame · 4 years

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Let me give you this real country music breakdown.

Keeping in mind that 2019 involved lots of gut wrenching transition, including divorce and selling my home of 11 years (the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere). Moving away from the tropics, to a place where the ocean is usually too far and my plants can’t live outside through the winter. I had a kid move out and away, for the first time. My oldest friend also died last August, after a scant 3 month long battle with cancer. It was a real plague upon my proverbial dog, wife, and pickup truck. And, of course, I’m living through a pandemic, and a long overdue but very emotional racial justice uprising, with the rest of you, now. Anyway. OTHER than those things, my 2020 has been like...My sister’s gradually, gut wrenchingly cut off all contact with me over the past couple of years, culminating in the last couple of months, whenst we no longer speaketh at all. I’ve fought hard for this to be different and it’s still very sharp. I don’t think I’ll ever give up hope, or stop making a fool of myself about it. A new friend I was starting to really care about hung herself in April. I’ve tried to be there for her husband and 5 year old daughter when and how I can, which is honestly not much. I’ve taken several people who were scared to go alone, to her grave. I felt forced to break up with the person I thought was my soul mate, these past 3 years, and wanted to be with forever, and I have grieved it hard over the last couple of months. I’m still processing this. I’m gonna be processing this for awhile. My threshold for being anywhere near him without overwhelming sobbing is apparently approximately 45 seconds. In the beginning we were scrambled together, mixed in a celestial bowl and hand fluffed with a feather. And the tears of bliss were not amiss - it was a good day. But the story nears the present time Of restlessness and wake up calls Wake up! Years have flown fast but then who's counting The wars have been won but there's few left standing between us And the shadows of Christmas past... Critically acclaimed but sadly underrated - Fortune definitely favored us, but no one celebrated. Our wits were splitting at their ends... We gazed upon the city lights We each laughed aloud one final time and agreed: This is one thing we'll miss... On his way out, he sabotaged my part time foster child’s mom’s tenuous, fragile relationship with me, so I no longer have the ability to connect with or help that child who he brought into my life. Who I love and wonder about and periodically hear horror stories about via mutual friends. I bent over backwards, I burned calories straining for that trust between the mom and myself.

It’s so terrible sometimes. It hurts so bad. Jean-Paul. LAURA. *MILLS* . Coralye. FUCK. This post brought to you with plenty of hard crying, and no shortage of echoing painful music. I’m physically sick about this shit semi often. I don’t normally let go of anybody, guys. But certainly not my fucking nearest and dearest. I have a lot. I have SO MUCH. I know this. I feel good a lot of the time. I have all 5 of my kids under this roof while the pandemic rages on, and they’re all healthy and beautiful and they all love me and talk with me. It’s mostly all cake these days with them, Elise telling me where she is in her own solitary reading for pleasure, Ananda cracking me up, Jake biking to the grocery store for treats to share, Aaron showing me something amazing in the yard, Isaac washing dishes and giving me weirdly helpful and totally unanticipated advice. They’re almost no work now, it’s all return on investment and I have tons of privacy and I use the fuck out of it. I’m deeply in love with somebody these past 7 months. Being deeply in new love AND devastated-heartbroken about lost love at the same time is honestly dizzying, I spent a first destitute day thinking maybe I can’t do polyamory anymore, period. Maybe this is too fucking much and I’m gonna be alone and focus on my career and my goddamned plants. (<--not fucking really, obv I am not gonna let the pain win and go full hermit. Brief compelling temptation, though.) My career and my plants are great, btw, thanks for asking. I’ve got basically my dream job, it’s flexible and lackadaisical AND meaningful and challenging, it’s salaried with bonuses and hella benefits and amazing job security. It’s the whole thing, the culmination of 6 years in school and unpaid internships and volunteering. I even have a spare PRN position elsewhere that I mostly hang on to because it’s fun when they want me to come make $200 for a shift, to mix it up a little. And I have solo projects, writing and web and mental health, all in the works, and they’re good. I have seedlings sprouting. I have a yard that is pure magic, revealing new secrets each day. I’ve got some of my oldest people, like Jess. I’ve got some exciting new people, like Jill. The love, did I mention it? Holy shit. I’ve got Sterling, and that is a whole other story. That it’s been this good while things are this bad is pretty astounding. His own drama quotient has been off the charts, too. I almost can’t imagine how wonderful it would be if we weren’t constantly adrift in a sea of bullshit, though I also strongly suspect we both need a certain staggering minimum quota of bullshit. It’s no accident that we met mutually chasing along after the wake of the same madman’s chaos. We’re nursing some deep wounds in each other, waking up some old old hurts and soothing them back down smaller and smaller. Anytime we’re touching it’s either syrupy soma sweet, blazing inferno hot, or a staggering blend of the two - and then we pull apart to try to actually speak with whole brains, and inevitably take turns being baffled, just hilariously relieved, at how easy it is to communicate. We alternate coming at each other on tiptoe, braced, and then feeling confused and just.... amused? Skeptical? that the other is totally able to empathize with what was just said and is accepting it gently. We don’t have a ton of objective stuff in common, on paper. We’re both very wordy and linguistic, we’re analyzers, we draw unusual people who will feel safe telling us insane things. We’re both hypersexual perverts, chronic pickers, we both wear too much black. It doesn’t go a lot further than that at a glance. We both have PTSD and ironclad outward facing coping skills, nostalgia for the Florida Keys, scientific skepticism mixed with some faith in magic.... we were both brilliant children who felt pretty isolated. But I haven’t ever really felt like anyone is loving me the way I love people, before. I’ve never even felt like anyone else received my love, the same way I intended it, or at least not all of it. It’s like the intensity of what I’m conveying and meaning when I kiss somebody’s cheek, I dunno man, he experiences it. The goofy flowing sense I have, of holding hands, he comments on it all the time. I’m not just like.... alone, in my overwhelm with being touched, or my enthusiasm for sensations, and that is honestly pretty new to me. Sterling is not tolerating my affection for my sake, and I’m still gradually adapting to that with periodic backsliding into hesitance, and unneeded apologies. It’s like we’re totally fluent in the precise same love language, so nothing gets lost, and the feedback loop is instantaneous. He’s dark inside, but dark like Nine Inch Nail’s A Warm Place. Dark like the womb. So as I was saying. I have so much. Including a candle that’s about Mills, and is burning behind me, giving me this slipping sense that I need to blow it out, I need to reserve it, it’s gonna be gone soon. This one spans so many feelings, it’s been positive, some new candle would be what, voodoo? Meddling? I don’t know. This one’s been in a drawer, with our ring buried in it (my dragon). What will I do with that ring? What will I do with all this love? How can I contain so much, anyway? Why can’t anything ever replace anything else? It’s like infinite space, and the empty places just keep throbbing, and it’s like I sprout new spots for new fullness and the cavities pulse on. I’m deeply grateful for a certain self-completeness I’ve come to understand that I have, and that not everyone does. I am resiliant A-motherfucking-F (<--meta vulgar!). AND YET. OW OW OW. I’m sitting here trying to exposure therapy my way through my Mills playlist, as I write this, so Spotify can’t surprise me into sads anymore. I’ve gotten already to a place where sometimes i remember positive things purely positively, and laugh and tell a story and it’s ok. I’m bitter as all hell that I can’t even talk to my sister about this breakup, after she had so many stupid goddamned feelings about the relationship itself, about polyamory in general, about ever knowing him (which might have allowed her to help me grieve at all). Sigh. I love the internet, maybe feel free to send me a message if you’re still reading, whoever the fuck you are <3

#personal #long text posts #polyamory #Mills #loss #Sterling #motherhood #MSW

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wildlyminiaturesandwich · 5 years

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G’day everyone!

Thanks to the EA Game Changers Program, last Sunday SimGurus Jill, Morgan and Geoff hosted a super secret private live stream for those of us in the program who weren’t able to attend EA Play and I am so excited to finally be able to share all the information I learned about Island Living and the upcoming free patch with you guys!

I don’t have any new screenshots or gameplay to show you but I did take pages and pages of notes so I’ve spent the better part of today trying to condense those down and put them in order so that you guys can have a look over them and read about some of the amazing new stuff that’s coming in this pack.

Just be aware that because we weren’t able to take screenshots or record the stream, all I had to refer to while putting this all in a post is my own notes and while I did my best to simultaneously listen carefully, write everything down, fend off my cats, and stop myself falling asleep... I could have easily missed something or some information could be wrong because it was 4am in the morning and my cats get bitey when I don’t pay attention to them lol You should definitely check out some of the other Game Changers posts and videos to see if they have any information I missed too!

SO! All that being said, I’m going to put this all under a cut because it’s long and also because spoilers!

If you have any questions about Island Living, I can’t promise that I’ll know or be allowed to tell you the answer, but my inbox is always open and it never hurts to ask anyway 😊

ENJOY!

New World - Sulani

🌴 The beautiful tropical Sulani contains 14 lots spread out over 3 island neighbourhoods: - Ohan’Ali is a town/commercial area containing 6 lots. Festivals/Events take place every day in town, keep an eye out for balloons to find out where - Lani St. Taz is an upscale residential area containing 5 lots - Mua Pel’Am is a Natural Island containing 3 lots. There is also a beautiful (and useful) waterfall and possibly a hidden cave but shhh, it’s a secret!

🌴 All lots are fully editable and can be changed to any lot type you want 🌴 There’s a new Beach venue type 🌴 The weather in Sulani is generally pretty mild, but if you have Seasons installed you may get the occasional tropical storm

Traits + Aspirations

LOT TRAITS

🌴 Volcanic activity - Can be used on any lot - Causes lava bombs to fall on the lot - Lava bombs can catch your sim on fire if they touch them too much while they’re still hot - Once cooled lava bombs can be broken open and looted or turned into decorative objects

🌴 Off the Grid - Free base game trait to be added in an upcoming patch - Your sims bills will be lower BUT most electronics will not work on lots with this trait and you will have limited internet access - Objects in the buy catalogue will display “Off the Grid Functionality” if they can be used on this lot. Eg there is a new sink in Island Living that looks like a sort of natural spring water pump, it’s perfect for off the grid lots

🌴 Clothing optional - Free base game trait to be added in an upcoming patch - Sims will react differently depending on traits. Eg. Self-assured sims will be more willing to strip off than sims with other traits like Childish

ASPIRATION

🌴 Beach Life - This sim wants to take it slow and enjoy the beach life

SIM TRAITS

🌴 Child of the Ocean - Answer the call of the ocean! Sims with this trait will prefer water related activities and feel closer to their denizens of the sea. 🌴 Child of the Island - These sims experience a spiritual connection to the islands of Sulani. Honor the islands by partaking in their culture, summon powerful elementals and reap the rewards of their blessings — or the consequences of their disfavour. 🌴 Sim trait randomization will also be added to the game in a free upcoming patch!

Careers

🌴 Fishing/Diving Career - Fishing will also be getting a big update (I think in the upcoming free patch). There will be new fish to collect, a fish trap, a high skill cast, re-tuning and new fishing spots in lots of worlds

🌴 Lifeguard

🌴 In an upcoming patch, all teen part-time careers will be made available for all ages

Gameplay + Activities

MERMAIDS!!!

🌴 Sims can become mermaids via gameplay or you can make one in CAS (they are under the occult life states menu) 🌴 There are a ton of new customization options for mermaids in CAS, including eyes, tail shapes and textures, teeth, tops that match the tails. 🌴 Instead of a hygiene bar, mermaids have a hydration bar that will slowly drop the longer they are out of water 🌴 Mermaids who spend too long out of water might get a cramp, or a sudden chill, or get very tired if their hydration becomes too low 🌴 You can raise their hydration by having them drink a glass of water, take a shower, go out in the rain, splash about under a waterfall, or have a bath 🌴 If your mermaid decides to have a bath (even a bubble bath) their tail will reappear and hang over the side of the tub! 🌴 There was no mention of whether or not mermaids tails reappear when they’re in a pool but I would assume so? 🌴 Mermaids can give birth to Merbabies! 🌴 While Merbabies can be born, Merchildren won’t manifest into their tales and power until they’re teens 🌴 Mermaids have some pretty cool powers - Siren Lullaby - Sing one of the four different siren songs to a human sim to provide them with a moodlet… for good or bad is up to you - Summon Ocean Threat - Will drag a sim underwater and drain the needs of a human sim to a dangerously low level. If done on a sim with already low needs, this may lead to death - If you have Seasons installed, your mermaid can summon a thunderstorm - There are more but they didn’t have time to show us them all

🌴 Using powers will drain your mermaids hydration quicker 🌴 Mermaids have their own cool little plumbob, similar to aliens and vampires 🌴 If you’re sick of being a Mermaid (we can’t be friends anymore), you can find some special kelp to help you with that

OCEAN SWIMMING

🌴 Sims can now swim in the ocean! 🌴 Ocean swimming is only possible in Sulani, not other worlds BUT the Gurus did say that extending ocean swimming to the rest of the worlds is not off the table just yet and may come at a later date. They just really wanted to nail it for Island Living before even thinking about making it possible in other worlds. 🌴 Toddlers can’t swim (obviously) but there are little shallow areas of the ocean they can sit in and splash around 🌴 If you have Cats & Dogs installed your pets will also be able to swim in the ocean 🌴 Sims will receive moodlets depending on what’s happening while they swim. Eg. If they see a shark, or a beautiful sunset 🌴 Sometimes while your sims are in the ocean, they might think they see a shark… they might be right, they might not. Either way, I wouldn’t stick around to find out!

SNORKELING + SCUBA DIVING

🌴 Sims can snorkel around Sulani’s reefs and shallows 🌴 Snorkeling is fully animated 🌴 Sims can also scuba dive by clicking on a buoy and paying the fee for scuba gear 🌴 Scuba diving is a rabbit hole activity, there a no animations 🌴 Sims can take photos underwater whilst snorkeling and diving and keep them as souvenirs 🌴 There may be treasures and a secret area to be found whilst diving as well but don’t quote me on that, I was distracted by my cat jumping on my keyboard at the time lol

DOLPHINS

🌴 Your sims can now befriend a dolphin! 🌴 Dolphins can be found playing around buoys (possibly only twice a day?) 🌴 Sims can work on friendship with dolphins by feeding them fish, playing with them, and teaching them tricks. 🌴 They can even be renamed so you know exactly which dolphin is your friend

BOATS

🌴 Outrigger Canoe - Sims can fish off the edge of them, nap in them, and they are able to be dragged into your sims inventory

🌴 Aqua zip (jet ski) - Sims can do tricks on the Aqua Zip. The higher your sims fitness skill, the better tricks they can do. Aqua Zips can also be dragged into your sims inventory

LOUNGERS + BEACH TOWELS

🌴 Your sims can now relax and sunbathe on the beach (or at home) in lounge chairs and on beach towels 🌴 One lounge chair will also be available for free in an upcoming base game update 🌴 Floating loungers are also coming with Island Living. They have similar interaction to regular lounge chairs but sims can also sunbathe nude on floating loungers and can be splashed by other sims in the water. They can also be used in pools! 🌴 All loungers, floating and non, and towels are able to be dragged into your sims inventory and taken with them

TANNING + SUNBURN

🌴 Tanning and sunburns are exclusive to Island Living 🌴 You can “opt-in” to have your sim tan or sunburn using a float lounger, lounge chair or beach towel 🌴 Tans and sunburns will take into account what your sim is wearing at the time 🌴 Mischievous sims can also “sabotage” sims who fall asleep in the sun with some strategically placed lotion. These “sabotaged” sunburn patterns are completely random and there may be some funny little easter eggs in there

VOLCANOES + WATERFALLS

🌴 The natural island of Mua Pel’Am is home to an active volcano and your most adventurous sims can even live right next to it if they want 🌴 There is also a gorgeous waterfall on the natural island of Mua Pel’Am that is not only very romantic (wink wink), but also can be used as a shower by sims living off the grid

CONSERVATION

🌴 Your sims will be able to clean up the beaches of Sulani, which will impact the rest of the islands 🌴 At max level conservation the scenery of the islands change to be more beautiful, more wildlife (butterflies, turtles etc) will show up, and you might even see some bio-luminescent algae floating around in the ocean 🌴 There was mention of a special turtle hatching event but I’m not sure if it has to do with the conservation level or not

HARVESTABLES + COLLECTABLES

🌴 Coconut 🌴 Pineapple 🌴 Taro 🌴 Kava 🌴 Several new fish

DEATHS

🌴 Lava bombs are hot 🌴 Look out for sharks 🌴 Mermaids are beautiful but accidents happen

WOOHOO

🌴 I hear the waterfall over on Mua Pel’Am is a very romantic spot…

FANS

🌴 Coming soon with a free update, ceiling fans will now not only be able to be switched on and off, but they will also cool things down on hot days and dry off wet sims

Create-A-Sim

I think most of what’s in CAS was covered in the trailer and during the announcement from EA Play, and we really didn’t get much of a look at it during the private stream, but from what I did see there’s a lot of amazing stuff!

The only thing I can say for sure is that as per usual, the male options are lacking and a little lackluster compared to the female options. I also don’t think there’s much in the way of clothes and hairs for kids and toddlers either 😟

Build/Buy

There is TONS of beautiful new Polynesian and Pacific Island inspired build/buy stuff, some of which I’ve already listed above, so I can’t list them all but here’s a few that don’t really fit into any other category but were specifically mentioned by the Gurus during the stream or just plain caught my eye

🌴 A beautiful new island-themed wedding arch made with palm leaves and tropical flowers and urgh! Just trust me, it’s beautiful! 🌴 Sandcastles! 🌴 A grill pit, that gets covered with palm leaves while it’s cooking 🌴 So many new island plants (hopefully they’re in debug 🤞) 🌴 A new island speaker (for community lots I assume) with all new Island Living music 🌴 Glass floors! They’re not actual flooring like carpets and tiles though, they’re more like the Get Together dance floors where you just place them on the floor and you can see through them. 🌴 Stilted foundations! FINALLY!! They can be placed on any lot, not just ocean lots! 🌴 There was a ladder shown in the trailers that I know many people were very excited about, however it acts more like a diving board than an actual ladder you can use between house floors. If you place it on the edge of a deck, your sims will jump off the deck straight into the water. But that doesn’t stop you from pretending it’s an actual ladder 😉 🌴 This isn’t an object but I didn’t know where else to put it - Pools can’t be built on the ground floor of lots built on the ocean. I didn’t catch why but I’m assuming it would interfere too much with the ocean itself. I also assume they can be built on any floors above the ground floor though.

Animations

This is probably not that interesting to a lot of people but I’m fascinated by a lot of the animations that are created for this game and with this pack it’s really clear the team put a lot of effort into even just the smallest of animations so I wanted to point out some of my favourites that I saw in the stream

🌴 There is a new walk style/animation for when your sims are entering/exiting the ocean. Just like real life they will slow down and kind of struggle to move through the shallow water until they’re deep enough to swim or walk up onto the sand 🌴 There are different swim styles if your sim needs to get somewhere faster (similar to jogging instead of walking) that also use less energy than the standard speed 🌴 There is a bunch of cool new animations added for when sims are multitasking swimming with other things, like talking, flirting, and even kissing in the ocean! 🌴 The mermaid tail animations in general are so smooth and organic, it’s beautiful! Whether they’re swimming in the ocean, jumping in and out of water, or just lounging in a bath tub; the team really outdid themselves with the animations for the tails! 🌴 Speaking of mermaids, there’s an option whilst swimming to “Mermaid Kiss”! I don’t know if it’s available for human sims but it looks very cute and sweet when performed by two mermaids! 🌴 Not only do the floating loungers float, but they also drift! They slowly move around and drift back and forth with the waves just like a real floating lounger would!

#TS4 #The Sims 4 #The Sims 4 Island Living #EA Game Changers

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what-even-is-thiss · 5 years

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Fic, Off of Land, Out of Water, Part 4, Moving

This is uuhhh... part 4. Sorry it took so long. I was in a couple of intensive summer writing classes and they nearly killed me.

Warnings: There’s like five cuss words and some offscreen death. 2,358 words.

Abstract: Why we’re all here. Where we are. No answer yet about what’s coming next.

First Previous Next

4. Moving

“An entire community was uprooted. You can’t expect us to be perfectly fixed after just one generation.” Logan huffed.

He looked at his reflection in the polished glass and angrily scrubbed at the scales on his face with a dead bit of coral.

“Everyone around here expects the city to be the way it was up north. We’re in tropical waters now.”

Gentle hands came from above him and got him to surrender the coral.

“You’re going to make yourself bleed again if you’re not careful, honey.” His Mom said, turning upside down and pressing her forehead to his.

“Mother…” Logan started.

“None of that. I don’t want you to be thinking about politics this early. You’re too young to be thinking about that.”

Logan sighed. “You make a fair point.”

The mermaid smiled. Her short black hair moved around her like seaweed. The scales cutting through it and going to wrap around her left arm were the color of seaweed.

“I always make fair points.”

“Mother, everyone is wrong sometimes. So when is father getting back?”

Her happy expression twitched.

“It’ll take a while. Magic takes up a lot of energy and there’s a lot of oil up there. I think it’s time we go to sleep, guppy.”

Logan sighed. “Mother, I’m 17. I could technically live on my own.”

She pulled him close. “Well let’s hope that you don’t have to.”

They locked the door and held each other close, prepared to sleep.

“Mother?” Logan asked.

“Yes, darling?”

“Should I go help him?”

“Listen to me. Don’t go to the surface. I don’t want to lose you. Now go to sleep.”

“But people younger than me go up all the time. How would you lose me?”

“You’ll know when you’re an adult, Logan. Now go to sleep.”

“Yes, mother.”

……….

Virgil swam downward, pulling the body along with him.

It became darker. The chill became more intense. Creatures swam past him that he didn’t recognize. Most of them weren’t the type of thing he wanted to linger on for too long.

The small sunlight pendant tied around his neck did almost nothing down here. It was getting harder and harder to breathe as the water pressure increased. When he looked behind himself the tip of his tail disappeared into the blackness.

He was grateful for the darkness. Grateful that he couldn’t see her properly in the darkness. Grateful that he couldn’t see the grey mixing in with the brown of her skin, her wine red scales flaking off, her black eyes rolled back in her head and her long grey hair floating around as if dead now. No live thing making it move in circles and s shapes in the water.

Finally it became deep to the point where he knew if he continued that he would soon die. He stopped swimming and tapped the little light tied to his neck. It went out.

Now it was just him, the darkness, whatever creatures were swimming in the pitch black of the ocean, and what was left of the sea witch Val, whose mer name translates to “sunlight near the surface”.

The body smelled. He held it close and felt the ceremonial cords that the people in town had tied around her. It was assumed that everyone grew up being told how to perform a mer funeral but Virgil, of course, grew up on land and had no idea. He had to quietly pull the schoolmaster aside and ask.

Of course he was the closest thing to family she had and of course Logan was afraid of the depths and didn’t want to return after his parents’ funerals. So of course Virgil had to face this alone. The Catholic in him wanted to say a prayer. Something. But that’s not how they did things down here.

Instead he detached a sharp stone from the cord around his neck and held the body away from himself by the ropes tied around it.

“You were loved. To the depths you go. For your sake may you never be found.”

He cut the rope and let go of it. He swam upwards and didn’t look back. He didn’t turn his light on. If he did that might distract her soul from finding where it’s supposed to go, or anger the gods that would guide her. Or so the teacher had told him.

When he saw light he didn’t stop swimming. When he got to the town he didn’t stop. As soon as his body adjusted to a new depth he kept going higher. Somewhere in his frantic swimming he dropped the necklace with the bottle of sunlight and sharp rock. He swam further and further, his heart pounding from with the anxiety or exercise, he didn’t know.

Then he broke the surface and saw that he was alone with nothing on the horizon.

There was nothing and no one left to blame so he spent some time insulting the moon.

……….

Logan sat on the rock, his bare feet hanging in the water. There was something about the place where two elements met. Something good. That’s something Roman or one of the spiritual leaders down there would tell him though, so he’d never admit that out loud. He had a reputation after all.

He waited there, his feet in the water. Roman had offered to wait for Virgil with him. Logan told him no. No, he didn’t want Roman there for this. Virgil had been underwater for two weeks now, leaving him with his brothers. They saw Logan as their brother too now, but they weren’t Virgil. Besides, there was one talk that Virgil hadn’t finished with him. One he’d wanted since the day he’d broken the surface.

One that he now knew had been waiting for him since he was born.

……..

When something impossible happens, the universe will likely want some payment in return. Existence itself is impossible, so as a consequence of it existing it has to be complicated. If existence was possible, it would be a lot more straightforward.

If intelligent beings were meant to exist they would be a lot kinder and a lot more rational. However, they weren’t meant to exist and so they go around starting wars all the time.

By the time the universe got around to mermaids it was tired of symbolism. Being intelligent, the species would be suffering enough already, so why put the entire species through the wringer? That had already been done to humans, satyrs, dolphins, crows, octopi, and elves. Why do it to another species?

The thing was though, the land and the sea were mad. They were mad about everything. First the land takes away some sea life with evolution (which shouldn’t have existed) and then that life got intelligent and started cutting things and inventing magic. Then it had the audacity to return to the ocean again. The whales were bad enough, but humans returning? Unacceptable.

The universe decided that in this case it wouldn’t fuck up all humans and merpeople. Both of them had enough problems already. Instead, it would epically fuck up one human and one merperson about every hundred years or so, forcing both of them to move between land and sea. It would be really inconvenient for them and everyone that knew them. That was enough give and take to keep order, it decided.

Exactly six thousand seven hundred years later, Virgil got that scar on his stomach after a long day involving a broken car and a crying three year old screaming about how he didn’t want a little brother and Logan was too small to force his way out of his egg so the nurse had to cut him out of it. Both were born early. The ocean and land are impatient pieces of shit. The universe tried to cut them some slack but even the universe can’t stop intelligent creatures from being intelligent creatures.

Intelligent creatures are too stupid to see what’s right in front of them.

……….

Virgil pushed his bangs out of his eyes and slicked them back with water.

“And that’s the only thing they ever had me memorize.” he said.

Logan squinted at Virgil through his glasses. Ever since he’d gotten the hang of speaking with flat teeth he’d noticed how slurred Virgil’s speech was when he was a merman. The pointed teeth just weren’t designed to make certain noises and the way his vocal box interacted with air made it sound like he was talking with a bunch of cotton stuck in his throat.

“It’s… short. And crass.” Logan said. “Who came up with that?”

“I think it was translated to English in the 1980s.” Virgil said. “By a British person. It kind of sounds like reading a satire novel, I know. I think the original language is dead. The English was translated from… North Atlantic dialect? I don’t know. I’m not a fucking intellectual and neither was the guy that translated it, probably.”

Virgil dunked his head underwater and took a deep breath before raising up again and spitting the water out.

“Sorry. I can breathe air but it starts to taste nasty after a while.” he said.

Logan folded his legs, a trick he’d learned from volunteering with Patton in a kindergarten class, and thought for a second.

“So what were you doing in your private lessons all that time if you only had to memorize the story of how we got here?” Logan asked.

“Teaching human history and stuff.” Virgil said. “Whenever you get back down here they’ll probably have questions for you. They like to take what I teach them and turn it into poetry so it’s easier to memorize. Sometimes they change details so it sounds better though. I suspect that’s been happening for thousands of years now and so uh…”

“The history I’ve memorized is probably less than accurate.” Logan said.

Virgil let out a whistle of agreement and sympathy, something Logan had figured out by now that was a lot easier to do than speak in a more human way when you had a mer body. Virgil had caused himself a great deal of discomfort teaching Logan English for all those years. For Logan had never found it to be difficult. Virgil said the fact that human speech was easy for Logan clued him in to the fact that Logan was the one he was supposed to be looking for. His counterpart that would hopefully have a full childhood before he was exposed to the air. And he had. Sort of. He’d had to become more independent than most merpeople after his parents had died, but he did live underwater, blissfully unaware of what was coming.

And seeing what had happened to Virgil, that was likely for the best. He was supposed to be introduced to the ocean when he was twenty one, but like a typical teenager, he rebelled. So high school was binged in short homeschool sessions and socializing with other humans was done in small bites. As a result merpeople found him to be too threatening and humans found him to be too blunt. His unusually deep voice and not-quite-ridiculous-but-still-tall height didn’t help him blend in either. So he did what he did best. He avoided everyone except for Logan, his brothers, and his talent agent and made a living off of doing voiceovers and video game sound effects. A job that could be binged and he usually got quite easily with his deep voice. Nobody had to see his face. Except for when somebody dragged him out to do something “fun”.

……...

In the same way Logan was able to speak human languages fairly easily, Virgil was able to whistle and make other sounds like clicking or hissing with his mouth in a much more complex and nuanced way than other humans could. Logan found he lost the ability to fully speak mer language without sounding like a two year old with a mouth full of seaweed when he was human but Virgil’s mer speech on land sounded like it always did. Clear with a slight irregular sound that Logan now knew was a non native speaker accent and not a speech impediment.

This ability made Virgil a very good voice actor and voiceover artist. A voice actor and voiceover artist known for never appearing at conventions or taking interviews, but could occasionally be heard whistling like a bird in a Disney movie at an open mic night at a certain coffee shop that one of his brothers dragged him to. The one that wasn’t a drag queen, his fans would say. Wait, that drag queen is related to Virgil Sanders? The other fan would answer them that it was crazy right? Then they would go back to arguing about animation styles and bad movie trailers.

……..

The toddler sat on the box labeled “board games” and his oldest brother braided his hair.

“Why are you braiding her hair, Roman?” Virgil asked, tugging at his overalls. He hated wearing overalls.

The eight year old huffed. “She needs to look good for the new house, Virgil.” he said.

“That’s stupid.” Virgil said. “Houses can’t see.”

“Are you three arguing again? I’d better not hear you pulling on Trish’s hair!” came a voice from the next room.

“No, mom!” Roman called out.

Their mom left the house and soon enough they heard arguing from outside near the Uhaul. All three of the children were smart enough to try and drown it out. The one who wasn’t called Patton yet started hiding his face in his hands. Roman tied his hair off and gave him a hug. Virgil started whistling. He sounded like a bird from a movie.

“How did you do that?” Roman asked.

Virgil shrugged and just kept whistling. Outside their dad yelled something about missing the ocean and their mom yelled something about safety. Roman pushed a stuffed animal into the toddler’s hands. Virgil stopped whistling and closed the window. He wondered how he’d sleep without hearing the waves outside. He also wondered why he’d never gotten close to them.

#roman wrote a thing #sanders sides #mer au #sanders sides au #analogical #platonic analogical #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #death mention

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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You Look Good (A CS NYE story)

A/N: Hi everyone! I just want to start by wishing you all a happy New Year! This story is actually one I have been working on for a while, and I had stalled out with writing it. A long long time ago a reader asked for ‘You Look Good’ by Lady Antebellum and I love the song but just couldn’t get inspired, and then today I realized a good way to engage with this song was through also engaging with the holiday. So, this is a CS AU oneshot where Emma and Killian are both on holiday get aways in paradise with their friends. They happen to see each other from afar and… well, you’ll just have to read it to see how it goes. Thank you all for reading and thanks to the very patient reader who suggested this song!

“Now this, right here, is the life.”

The words from his friend Will should have been grating, especially since the rest of the men on this boat were all actually pulling their weight this afternoon on the water while Will was lounging about. But still, Killian couldn’t help but agree.

Being out here on the sea was infinitely better than life in the city, especially in the dead of winter when New York was 25 degrees and covered in ice. There the air was frigid and sharp, and here it was clean, crisp, and glorious. The sunlight that had been gone from the north for so long was out in full force here, and the sand and the waves underneath a clear blue sky were the perfect remedy to anyone’s winter woes.

Even with the frozen temps, at home everything was driven by competition and hectic chaos. Business in New York was cutthroat, something he’d learned as the CEO of his own business. There were no breaks. If you wanted to be a success you worked like a dog and you never slowed down, but out here there was a gentler pace of living that held no less purpose even in its quiet calm. It was easy to get caught up in how much more vibrant the world seemed out in these kinds of open coastal spaces, and how much more possibility floated about in the air out here, but soon enough they’d all head back to reality. That was just the way things were. No matter how much he and his friends may enjoy their annual holiday trip to the tropics, they always returned home, waiting and wishing for the next year to end and call them back again.

This trip was a tradition for the four of them, starting way back when Will, David, Graham and Killian had met in college. David had a friend of a friend of a friend who had a place on a sunny island where summer lasted all year long and the rest was history. Things had radically changed since those good old days, what with all of them having time consuming careers and various responsibilities, but the peace they all found out here on the ocean had never waned. This was a critical time of respite for the lot of them, what with Graham taking time off from his police work, Will leaving the run of his bar to his staff, and David leaving the hospital to the care of other residents. But Killian couldn’t help feeling that each year they were getting closer to the loss of this tradition, or at least a substantial change in the way it came about.

It was only a matter of time before his friends started settling down, and when that day came it was unlikely that their girlfriends or wives would embrace a weeks-long guy’s trip especially during Christmas and New Years. It would no longer be realistic to put their lives on hold for such a long stretch, and Killian understood that. For his part, he would actually welcome such an addition to his life, a woman who would miss him too much to want to be apart at this time of year, but he had to be realistic. So far experience had shown him that finding such a match and meeting a woman who he could truly see forever with was a long shot. It would take a miraculous woman to truly speak to his heart, and only that kind of love would entice him into marriage and the whole happily ever after thing.

“You’ve got that look again, Killian,” David joked and Killian raised his gaze to his best mate who looked smug and all-knowing.

“I haven’t got a look,” Killian responded, prompting David and Graham to laugh.

“Sure you do,” Graham quipped. “The dreamy, brooding one. That one women eat up because they think you’re grappling with the universe’s big questions.”

“Maybe I am,” Killian quipped and after a moment they all laughed.

“Nah you’re just worrying,” David explained. “You’re thinking that this might be our last run out here, and you’re probably right, at least the way we do things now.”

“He’s right?!” Will asked, his genuine concern manifesting as a shriek. It was like a banshee, and the harsh tone was so shrill Killian winced.

“Well, yeah. Next year’s gonna be different. I don’t know about you all, but I’m finding my girl. I’ve got it all planned.”

“You’ve planned it out?” Graham asked with a smirk. “And how exactly did you do that, Doctor Nolan?”

“That’s for me to know and her to find out.”

David’s adamant refusal to elaborate prompted some more ribbing from the others, but it only reminded Killian about how sure and true his instincts were. He sensed that this tide was shifting, and he believed David was right. Not about the having a plan to find the woman of one’s dreams– that was bull shit. There was no way one could plan to find a love strong enough to build a life around. But when he said this year was going to be different, Killian found he genuinely hoped that would be true and that hope carried him through the rest of their afternoon out on the water.

By the time they pulled back into port, docking their sailboat in the marina they’d come to know well, Killian was no closer to answers about what he wanted and when it might come. He tried to take solace in the beauty that was the sky at this time of day, with sunset silhouettes dancing, painting lazy, wayward clouds that hung over this seaside place. The shades of pink and orange and gold could never be recreated back home, but while he appreciated the sight, it did nothing to truly calm him. He was restless still, but he supposed that was normal for the last day of the year, and the final few hours before a brand new start. People had a tendency to get antsy in these final moments, and even in paradise it seemed that was to be his fate.

“Well lads, it’s time for the age-old question – Captain Jack’s or Odie’s Place for New Year’s this evening?”

No one answered Will’s eager question as they got into the jeep they’d rented for the two weeks, and that was likely because they didn’t care. Either place would suit their purposes. They wanted a decent meal and a few drinks to get them through to the new year. Other than that, there was little consideration to be had.

“All right then, driver’s choice,” Will responded, hopping into the vehicle and hardly waiting for any of them to do the same before he tore off onto the main road and raced towards their vacation villa.

Absentmindedly Killian watched the scenery around them, noticing the way the docks gave way to the bustling town beside it. The island was particularly busy this year, a sign that perhaps their secret haven might not be so secret after all. Years ago it felt like they were the only foreigners here this time of year, but alas it seemed to be a new and wide-spread trend. Some people were here with families, others on trips that mirrored theirs, but none of these people really mattered to Killian. At least until…

The first thing he noticed about her was her golden hair, which reflected the iridescent light of the year’s last sunset in an almost ethereal way. It was pulled back, likely from hours spent at the beach, but soft and wavy tendrils hung loose, shielding parts of a face so stunning it made Killian’s heart skip a beat and then another. In the three seconds that they were passing her, Killian swore he took in every little detail of this woman – nay, this vision – memorizing her like she was the answer to his every prayer. Her lithe form, her perfect face, the way the smile she was wearing met her eyes and the essence around her that was light and happy. She was an angel dressed in a yellow sun dress, an impossibly gorgeous woman the likes of which he’d never seen, and in an instant he knew that he’d regret every moment he lived from this point on if he didn’t get a chance to know her.

“Stop the car!” Killian yelled as he finally got his wits about him. His eyes stayed on her as Will braked a bit but kept driving.

“What the fuck -?”

“Pull the car over, Will. Now!”

David’s intensity matched Killian’s and if he were able to think of anything outside this girl Killian would wonder why his friend was so animated too, but as the car slowed down, Killian hopped out of the side, and raced back down the street. She was only a little while back, but this place was packed with people and there were hotels and storefronts all around. She could be anywhere, and the realization that she was lost to him damn near gutted the sense of hope he’d suddenly found.

“What the hell is up with you two?” Graham asked, appearing beside Killian and Killian shook his head.

“I thought I saw her,” Killian confessed and he continued to look out through the stream of people, but she didn’t reappear.

“Saw who?”

“The one.”

“The one?” Graham scoffed. “Wait are you serious right now? This isn’t just some sort of sun-induced hallucination?”

“I don’t know,” Killian whispered, fear clinging to him that maybe that’s what she was. Surely now that he thought of it no one could be so perfect or call to him so quickly. Maybe Graham was right? But then he saw her again, this time across the square from where he was. He started moving towards her, and as if she could feel his attention she stopped, looking at him and halting him in his tracks. God she was incredible. She was stunning and remarkable and every other good thing and when he saw her he forgot to breathe. All he could do was stare and enjoy the rush of adrenaline that came in realizing she was doing the same. She was caught too, snared in by this connection between them, whatever it may be.

“That’s her!” David said and Killian looked over, suddenly feeling very territorial and jealous. It didn’t matter that this was his best friend. This woman was off limits. She would be his, at least he hoped. God did he hope.

“Back off David.”

“Not the blonde, dumb ass, her friend.”

Cursing from David? Wow he must be just as caught up as Killian, and when Killian looked back over to the woman who captivated him he saw she had a girl beside her. She was brunette and petite, with a blue dress and the same beach-ready look, but she didn’t hold a candle to his girl.

“Aw shit, not now,” David groaned and Killian looked to see what he meant. Fuck! The end of year festival was happening, and now a sea of people were swarming in, dancing away the bad of this year and ringing in the new one. It was, admittedly, a very cool ceremony, but only when one wasn’t trying to meet the girl of their dreams. Instead the dancing and the noise made Killian agitated, but he couldn’t get around it, and by the time it was all over and they were free to move again, both women were gone and Killian was left feeling stunned and defeated.

“They can’t have gone far,” David said, scoping out the area but there was no sign of them. Eventually they changed tactics, with Graham questioning a vendor selling flowers down below. Killian listened as his friend asked questions about the girls but to no avail and so Killian did the same at other markets and shops. It was crazy, but finally one woman selling bracelets by the beach drive said she’d seen them.

“They came to look at my wears. Fancied a few pieces too, but said they forgot their wallets back at their hotel. They promised to come back tomorrow and get them. Said it would be their last day at the beach. Usually I don’t believe tourists when they say these things, but they had such honest eyes. Good things come to people like that.”

“Did they mention which hotel?” David asked, sidestepping the woman’s local superstitions about ‘honest eyes,’ and the woman shook her head.

“Nah, love. They did say they had to get back to the north side of the island though and there’s not many places out there. They likely at the resort.”

“Which ones did she like?” Killian asked, surprising the woman. Slowly a smile of understanding crossed the woman’s face and she gestured to a woven bracelet with a golden hue and a swan charm. It was unique, even in an array of one of a kind bracelets. “I’ll take it.”

“And I’ll take whatever else they looked at.”

It was a small consolation in all of this, and again, it defied rational explanation. This was somewhat crazy on both Killian and David’s parts, but hell if he could stop it. He wanted to have a piece of her with him, even if it was something she’d never gotten a chance to have. It felt a bit better to have this tiny trinket, and it was even more miraculous to know that tomorrow they’d be at the beach and were planning to come back here.

“So that’s that then. We’ll just be sure to get out here early tomorrow.”

Graham said the words, convinced that everything was now all set, but still Killian felt restless. Tomorrow was better than nothing. He’d been afraid he’d never see her again only a few moments ago, but he also hated the idea of waiting. Now that he’d seen her and he knew she was out there, Killian was eager to meet this woman who entranced him. She had him under her spell and she’d never so much as said a word to him.

“Captain Jack’s,” David said to Will, confusing their friend in the process. “You asked which bar and it’s Captain Jack’s.”

“If you say so, mate,” Will said as they all filed back into the car.

“It’s on the north side of the island,” David said to Killian and Killian agreed it was the best place. It wasn’t a surefire plan, what with the resort being an all inclusive, and them not being one hundred percent certain they were even there, but it made Killian feel better. Upping his chances of finding this girl was all he could ask for and they were doing just that by going north.

The next few hours passed with painful slowness, and by the time they got to the bar Killian was a bit of a wreck. It didn’t help matters that all of this was uncertain. She might not come, she might not like him, hell she might already have someone. That last though in particular scared him half to death, but he had to believe that his instinctive reaction meant something. He’d never felt this way, losing himself at first sight like this. It would be the cruelest trick of fate if she was taken, and if she could never feel the same… God he hated to even think how much that would hurt.

“I feel like my hearts going to give out any second,” David said standing next to him and casing the place with the same intensity. “I know it’s crazy but… she’s just gotta be here, man. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

Killian completely understood, and he was going to try and say some words of encouragement, however half-assed they would be but then something caught David’s eye and his friend’s whole demeanor changed. The excitement that pulsed off of him and the adoration told Killian that she was back and his own heart leapt at the prospect. If her friend was here, surely the girl he wanted was here too, right? But when he looked he only saw three brunettes, and the girl of his dreams was nowhere to be seen. This was upsetting in the extreme, but he waited patiently, knowing at the very least David’s girl could tell her where she was.

Funnily enough, the girl who had caught David’s notice was staring at him with almost the same level of intensity. She gazed at him for longer than strangers should, and then she blushed, and that was all it took for David to start moving towards her. Killian followed, noticing the other two women as he did.

“You think he’s the guy?” one of them whispered. “The one from the festival?”

“Oh totally. Look at her, she’s losing it. I just wish Emma was here to see it. Maybe she’d find her guy too.”

Emma – that must be his siren’s name. He heard it and it just clicked inside of his very being, like it belonged with him all this time. He wanted to say it aloud over and over again, to say it in the heat of passion when he’d kissed her senseless or driven her wild with need. But more than that he wanted to see her again.

“Where is she?” he asked, killing David’s attempt at a smooth first greeting and not giving a damn. “Emma, your friend. She was with you at the beach today.”

“Yes, she was,” David’s girl said. “She’s outside. She said she needed some air.”

Completely neglecting his manners Killian rushed off with only a quick, ‘thanks.’ Outside was a loose description of where she could be. At the front of the bar there were people milling around, but his feet took him to the coast, the place where he would go if he needed space. Out here in the darkness there were yellow lanterns and twinkle lights set up, and the pale glow of the moon, but none of it was needed. For there, with her feet in the waves and her hair whipping in the gentle breeze was his woman, radiating her own kind of light that could never be replicated.

Killian stood rooted to the spot, watching her, for longer than he could really know. Any real coherent thought fled the moment he saw her again. Well, the shape of her really, for in the dark, and from the back like this she was a silhouette, dancing at the shoreline, feet bare and hair flowing in the night’s breeze. Killian didn’t know if the music she swayed to was something she could hear from inside the bar or a melody from her head, but either way he stood transfixed, stunned by not only how beautifully she moved, but how freely she expressed herself. This moment was a snapshot into this woman’s very soul, and it was a happy one, a carefree one that didn’t give a damn about the noise or the buzzing all around them. This girl, Emma, just… was, and Killian couldn’t help moving closer, craving the chance to see this siren’s face.

“Come here often, love?” He asked, his voice carrying across the evening air, the slightest tremble discernable in his tone. Emma, for her part, didn’t even flinch, just shook her head without looking at him, as if he and his question were an afterthought.

“Definitely not as often as you use that line,” she quipped, and he couldn’t help himself. He laughed at her boldness, and he knew she was right. It was a line, but damn if he could come up with anything original. She stole the air from his lungs and the sense from his mind. He was lucky to have uttered anything at all.

“Forgive me, that was bad. Let me try again. Are you interested in a partner, or is this more a solo escapade you’ve got going here?”

Now Emma whipped her head towards him, and whatever he’d felt for her before ramped infinitely. She was a beautiful woman from any distance, but up close that was even more undeniable. Her soft, full lips tormented him because all he wanted was to claim them and see them swollen from his kisses, and the smattering of freckles on her skin spoke to lots of time out here in the sun. Her hair was hanging lose now, curled and silky, tempting his fingers which craved the change to run through it, and the dress she wore now was red and fiery, a complete transformation from the pale, pure yellow of this afternoon. He caught her scent on the air, a hint of lavender and something else he couldn’t place, but her eyes did the most damage, striking him with a blow of recognition and interest he never could have expected.

“It’s you.”

“Aye, love, it’s me.”

“Sorry about before. A couple of guys have come up to me and some of them forget that no means no.”

“Someone was bothering you?” Killian asked, his anger rising as he looked around for signs of dead men walking. Who would dare to bother his Emma? Oh shit, now he was really losing it, thinking of her as his when they’d barely even met. Only the gentle touch of her hand on his arm could pull him back.

“It’s okay, I can handle myself. I’ve been doing it all my life.”

He hated to think that she had to be her own defender, when she should be protected and provided for in every way she wished, but he loved the feel of her hand on him. Even when she removed it, realizing she’d touched him and pulling back with a little bit of embarrassment, he could feel her branded on his skin. And he liked it A lot.

“But how did you find me?” she asked, letting her happiness at seeing him slip when she probably didn’t mean to. “I mean, I saw you earlier, in town, but I thought you were gone…”

He reached out for her hand and she let him take it, creating a rush of pleasure as they made contact again. It emboldened Killian, and it made him feel more alive than anything else ever had. “I tried to find you earlier, but in the craziness I lost you. I admit I thought you might have been a dream. It was hard for me to imagine you could even be real.”

“But now you’re here. How?”

“Fate, destiny, and perhaps a little help from a local vendor.”

Emma’s eyes shone with wonder and he heard her gasp as he pulled the bracelet he procured earlier and presented it to her. “For you, love.”

“I don’t usually take gifts from strangers,” Emma said as he tied the strands of the trinket together, sealing it around her wrist. He smiled at the fact that he hadn’t introduced himself yet. He was forgetting himself, but thankfully, Emma didn’t seem to mind too much.

“My name’s Killian. Killian Jones. And you are?”

“Emma. Emma Swan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma,” he said, meaning it more than he’d ever meant anything before.

“Yeah, you too,” she said and Killian’s chest swelled with pride. He was still holding onto her, his thumb running against the underside of her wrist as he felt her delicate skin. Her pulse beneath him was rapid, matching the beat of his own, and when he looked back up to her, her eyes were on his lips, torn between hunger, intrigue, and still a little bit of wariness. He wanted to kiss that worry she had away, to show her there would be no reason for fear, not where he was involved, but that might be taking things too fast. He needed something, anything, to show her he could be trusted or to give him just a little more time in her company.

At that moment the music changed and the song filtered over the stereo outside was slower and written out of love. It was intimate and seductive, and for Killian it proved the perfect opening. “So, love, about that dance… would you do me the honor?”

Emma smiled at him, setting him alight as she stepped into his arms, fitting like the piece he’d been missing for too long. It felt amazing to hold her close and sway back and forth with her. One song blurred to another, and another, until truth be told he was so lost in her he couldn’t tell how much time had passed. In the meantime they talked, they danced, they got to know each other but not just with words. This was a blending of two souls, and, if his suspicions were right, the evolution of a love at first sight story that would endure long past this trip.

“I can’t believe you live in New York too,” Emma said as they were finally walking back to the party to rejoin their friends. It was nearly midnight, but it felt like no time had passed at all. “What are the chances?”

“I couldn’t tell you that, love, but I will say I’m glad for it.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, her face a little flushed from their closeness. He stopped their walking, pulling her into his arms and tilting her chin up so her eyes met his.

“Aye. It makes the whole asking you out thing a bit more manageable. Not that distance would have stopped me. I’d have made it work, no matter how far away you may be.”

“You want to ask me out?” she asked, her voice hoarse from emotion and her eyes wide at the prospect.

“I want to do much more than that, love. And it’ll be more than one date I’m after, you can rest assured. But it’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”

“Hmm, maybe,” she said before smiling at him and edging a bit closer so her lips were mere inches from his.

“You’re not convinced?”

“Well, I kind of like the idea of starting with a chance meeting, some moonlight dancing, and a New Years’ kiss…”

Growling out his own approval Killian crushed his lips to hers, tasting her sweetness and savoring every bit of it. She was magic made real, and the feel of her on him, chasing the same high and the same bliss from being with him that he got with her was life altering. Lightening could strike them now and he’d never know, not when he already felt so much with Emma. This was the first kiss they’d ever shared and yet Killian knew it would be the last first kiss either of them ever had. This was the beginning of a new forever, and Emma was right, this was the best kind of start their story could have.

“I was thinking the kiss would come at midnight,” Emma said when they broke apart, her breathing ragged and her green eyes darker from the desire she was experiencing. “You know that’s kind of the tradition.”

“So you’re saying we should wait then? No more until -,”

He couldn’t get the words out before Emma was pulling him in for another kiss, and that was just fine by him. And as the rest of the night sped by, and the year changed from the old to the new, Killian was certain that this lucky happenstance would be something much bigger, and that this time next year and every year thereafter he and Emma would still be together and happy and whole.

…………

On a boat, on a beach In the water, in the sand, in the back of a bar Cold beer in your hand Breaking hearts, breaking necks When we rolling down the street, heads turning all day when they see you with me I'm thinking everybody better stand in line 'Cause they need to know that your body's coming with me tonight They're like, "hey, who that there with the shades?" Like oh, the way you move to the bass Hold up Whole room gets to spinnin' from the second that you walk in And baby you look good all day, all night You look good, so fresh, so fine You look good, got everybody watching you like cameras in Hollywood Baby you look good Aw baby you look good Black dress, 2 the 9s, New Year's in a pent From the floor, to the roof, make the skyline spin Yeah, you're killing me boy in your black-faded jeans Ain't gotta work hard when you're smilin' at me Like, "hey, who that there with the shades?" Like oh, the way you move to the bass Hold up Whole room gets to spinnin' from the second that you walk in And baby you look good all day, all night You look good, so fresh, so fine You look good, got everybody watching you like cameras in Hollywood Baby you look good Aw baby you look good I'm thinking everybody better stand in line 'Cause they need to know that your body's coming with me tonight They're like, "hey, who that there with the shades?" Like oh, the way you move to the bass Hold up Whole room gets to spinnin' from the second that you walk in And baby you look good all day, all night You look good, so fresh, so fine You look good, got everybody watching you like cameras in Hollywood Baby you look good Come on baby you look good You look good Baby you look good

Post-Note: So there we have it. Just a little CS insta-love fluff to get us through the end of this year. Like I said, I hope you all have the best end to your 2019 and a wonderful start to your 2020. Thank you all so much for your kindness, support, and friendship this year. Looking forward to next year and wishing you all the best decade to come!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan nye #cs #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs nye #cs new year #emma swan #killian jones #the whole storybrooke gang #cs mixtape #captain swan mixtape #cs au #captain swan au #cs insta love #you look good

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monster-bait · 4 years

Text

Repost — Monster Match: Sebastien the Werecat; M Werecat x F Human, NSFW

TUMBLR ATE THE FIRST POST, WTFFF

Sorry, @de-couleur!!

Monster Match for @de-couleur: Ok, let’s see here. I’m 23, quite independent (I moved from the US to Korea and regularly do solo trips), I LOVE cats (there are cats in the park near my apartment that I made friends with cause I can’t have a pet cat), I’m a romantic and I love the “old fashion” romance stuff: bringing a girl flowers, writing love letters, etc. I’d love a guy who has a significant size difference from me (5'3) and loves to cuddle.

The airport was crowded for a Monday

You wondered how Sebastien would greet you.

He had been there, taking pictures of the ruins.

“A karaage chicken and a beer, please.”

“Military brat?”

“Something like that,” he murmured, cocking a dark eyebrow with another grin. “Yours is definitely not a local accent.”

He was a photographer, you’d learned, and might start his week on the Mississippi delta and end it staring up at the stars above the Serengeti. He’d been knowledgeable about the castle ruins, telling you the history of the sight, and when a man passed, selling small hand-ties of flowers in a basket, he bought one for you, declaring that you needed something physical for your hanami experience.

If your cheeks had grown any hotter, you might have combusted.

It had been a surprise then, when your phone chimed with a text that same night.

Just making sure you got home alright

Had a lot of fun today!

Did you see that news story about the werewolf tribe in Malaysia?

The Malay tribe in question had been profiled on a popular world news station, their history and customs discussed openly for the first time.

I did, it’s incredible that they’ve managed to stay so insular all this time

Here goes nothing, you thought, tapping out your reply.

It talked about how painful the change is, especially for young people

Bones breaking and stuff

Is it really like that? Was it that bad for you?

You waited, wedged between other commuters, counting the seconds as your phone remained silent.

Not really, but cats are better than dogs ;)

I wonder if it has much to do with diet?

I’d be curious to see the stats on bone density and childhood malnutrition

I need your address please

Several weeks later you'd received a lovely, hand-painted parasol, along with the first letter.

It was impossible to write him back with the way he travelled. You had to settle for emailing him your responses, long letters full of your ambitions and insecurities, wondering what scared him, what his secret passion were, where he'd like to call home.

Now he was almost here, back in the flesh, for the first time in two years.

Hello, I'd like to inquire into the sofa for rent in your apartment? Does it come with turn down service?

Two weeks. You'd have him to yourself for two weeks. Truly to yourself, for your roommate had decided not to extend her teaching contract and had flown home just a few days earlier.

When your eyes opened, he was there.

You'd forgotten how tall he was, you realized. Sebastien towered over the throng of people moving down the escalator. Tall and slender with broad shoulders and an unhurried air; his face splitting into a smile when he caught sight of you.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion, as if you were under water. Rising from the bench, your arms opened, mirroring his, in anticipation of his hug.

You had hoped for it, but hadn't allowed yourself to expect it.

When your fingers slid into his dark hair, nails scraping his scalp, he growled against your lips, and you wondered why you had been worried about the nature of his visit at all. Of course this isn't one-sided.

“We should go,” he murmured. “Places like this usually have decency laws, and you’re tempting me to break all of them.”

You trembled the entire way back to your apartment. Sebastien had insisted on getting a cab, not wanting to wrestle his roller bag on the train. “Besides, I’m not letting go of your hand,” he announced cheerfully, pulling you into another light kiss before hailing a cab at the taxi queue.

“Are you sure you’re not going to get in trouble having me here?”

The hallway was quiet as the elevator dinged open, and you shushed him, pulling him quickly to your door. The company-provided apartments were small but comfortable, particularly now that your roommate was gone, but he wasn't wrong—it would be frowned upon for you, a young, unmarried woman, to have a male houseguest. You didn't care. Your replacement roommate was not due to arrive until the end of the month, giving you the unexpected boon of privacy during Sebastien’s stay, and you had no intention of letting him stay in a hotel.

“I really was going to get a hotel room, you know,” he laughed, as you tugged him inside.

“Well, now you don’t need to. And we have the place to ourselves the whole time you’re here,” you announced. “Bathroom is here, the kitchen is miniature, but it's functional...I got some of that electrolyte water you like. Living room, the advertised sofa, turndown service is an extra fee...the second bedroom, the new girl won’t be here for a few weeks...and here’s my room.”

You swallowed hard, opening the door and ducking your head, lest he see your blush.

You pretended to ponder, looking him over as you gripped your chin. “Hmmm...I’m sure negotiations could be made.”

You squealed again when he lifted you, bouncing you down on the bed. “I’m a freelancer, miss. Negotiations are what I’m good at.”

“Are the negotiations satisfactory so far?”

“I-I think you’ve made a compelling opening statement,” you wheezed, earning a deep chuckle that buzzed against your skin.

He was incredibly pleased with himself.

His body completely covered yours as he climbed over you as you melted into the mattress, his smile wide and his chin glistening. Your fingers were uncoordinated as you fumbled with his belt buckle, distracted over the press of his erection, until Sebastien gripped your hand, squeezing gently before pushing it aside, opening his faded jeans himself.

The sun had not yet risen when you stirred in your bed. You were alone.

He’d left you two days earlier, kissing your nose as he readied himself for the turn, citing a fellow photographer, an american werewolf who had given him leads on several safe spots.

The little park was empty, as you’d known it would be. The dough of your fried pastry was hot, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, and the enticing aroma drew out several of your feline friends as you lowered yourself to a bench.

There was something there in the shadows you realized, though you curiously felt no fear. The sun was shining, the morning was quiet, and you were in love. Maybe he would stay.

A huge black panther slunk from the shrubbery, smaller cats flanking him with hungry mewls, and you laughed, holding out a piece of the kkwabaegi. Shining, golden eyes, long and muscular. Cats are better than dogs. Maybe he would stay.

You beckoned the felines closer, flipping open the box of treats. After all, you’d bought one for him anyways.

#Exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #werecat #werecat boyfriend #monsterbait writes #monster matchmaker #monster matches #monster match

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