#i’m just feeling very angry right now as i’m watching my home get bulldozed and gentrified
Text
Endless
Characters: Yoongi x Reader
Word count: 7.4K
Synopsis: You aren’t the chosen one. You’re not gifted with any special powers, or secret abilities. You’re just a plucky orphan who decided you’d come along for the ride.
Bringing down an empire is no biggie, right?
Yoongi x reader
Notes: I actually really don’t like this fic, in all honesty. It’s definitely one of my weaker ones, but since I put a lot of effort into writing it, I thought I’d post it anyway! I’m having a real big writer’s block and everything I write just feels.... jilted and inauthentic. IDK. I feel like I’ve lost my ability to tap into what a character feels T.T ANYWAY even if I don’t like it, maybe you will! So please try and enjoy
This is written for @thebtswritersclub March prompt, “Adventure”!
Warnings: Poss some fantasy type violence? Sparring, Yoongi is a little mean sometimes but he has RESPONSIBILITIES! Lots of conversations from very not-socially-distanced positions. Mentions of wars and evil empire
Genre: Fantasy, angst-with-a-happy-ish-ending
It’s easy to see that Yoongi is angry. From the heavy thud of his boots against the firmly packed dirt to the furious hunch of his shoulders, everything about him screams that he is livid. Even the way his travelling cloak flutters about his form is ominous, like the dark roil of storm clouds on a distant horizon.
You follow closely behind, meek and sufficiently scolded. He’s been like this for the better part of the afternoon, ever since you left the previous town behind.
“Um,” you pipe up, hoping to power through the stormy silence that hangs over you. You’re rewarded with a lethal glare- no one does cold fury quite like Min Yoongi.
Hanging your head, you sigh, continuing following at a dutiful three paces behind the furious man. You find yourself missing Jungkook, sure that he would have the ability to overcome this kind of tension, were he here. Or even Jiyeon, as much as you dislike her- perhaps the “chosen one” wouldn’t trigger such ire in her fated mentor. Really, any sort of third companion would do, if not to pacify Yoongi, then at least to keep you company. Long silences aren’t really your thing, after all.
You square your shoulders, straightening. At the next town, Jin and Hoseok await your arrival, and then you will have at least two more companions to chat to when Yoongi enters one of his “moods”.
Not that his “moods” happen very often. For a man who is almost infamously gruff and who seems to permanently have a scowl etched upon his face, his actual personality is fairly calm and unbothered. Years of journeying across the realm of Adlentur have resulted in an attitude where there is very little that can truly throw him off.
Apparently, you possess that unique ability, for the calm mask he often adorns is nowhere to be seen. Even when you’d followed him out of your hometown and demanded to accompany him a lick of ability, magical or not, to warrant your accompaniment, he hadn’t batted an eye. He had merely squinted thoughtfully at you while Seokjin and Hoseok insisted that you would merely be deadweight, before turning around and announcing that if you couldn’t keep up, you’d be left behind.
He’s doing his best to leave you behind now; you’re struggling to keep up with his rapid pace. It’s so speedy that you feel a twinge in your freshly-healed ankle. With a wince, you stumble a few steps, and the ground comes rapidly rising up to meet your face. Before it can make contact, however, a stabilising hand encircles your elbow and you’re yanked upright.
Yoongi stares at you, a delicate but angry flush creeping across the high points of his cheek bones and down his neck.
“Thanks.” You offer sheepishly, before gingerly setting your weight upon your foot once more. The healers had warned you that the fractures were severe enough that even with the extensive healing you’d likely still be a bit tender for the next few days.
“Does it hurt?” He demands, and you wince. You straighten and shake your head.
“It’s just a bit weaker than normal.” You rush to assure him. These are the first words he’s said to you since you woke up in the clinic of the village you’d been staying in. Since then, he’s sort of just stormed around in a furious silence.
The incident that had set him off had been an attack on said village. Of late, the sporadic surges of nightmarish beasts that left few survivors and decimated village populations were becoming more frequent, and this particular village was no exception. This village was lucky in that it had a protector; Yoongi is gifted with special abilities and highly trained in combat. You have no idea where he got the abilities from and why he is so skilled, but it saved your life when he first came to your village, and it didn’t take him long to begin saving lives in this village.
But Yoongi is only human (you assume), and the beasts were numerous and powerful. People can slip under the radar in times of chaos and he hadn’t noticed the small child in the path of danger.
You had, though. You had seen the oncoming danger but unlike Yoongi, you are not trained in combat. You aren’t gifted with special abilities. You’re just an orphan who witnessed what he could do. You’re nothing special.
But you couldn’t just leave the child to die.
According to the healers that Yoongi had carried your broken, bloody body to, you had gotten off easy. A broken ankle, a shredded arm and deep lacerations across your body. The healers had been skilled and Yoongi had supplied them with some of his own magic to give them the ability to heal your wounds- within just twelve hours the only remnants of your scuffle with the monster was a slightly weakened ankle and some ugly scars from some of the deeper wounds that even the healing magic couldn’t overcome.
Despite his foul mood, Yoongi’s hands are gentle as he guides you to sit on a nearby rock. He crouches before you and reaches for your ankle- his hands are warm as his thumb slides against the ball of your ankle. He’s so careful as he rotates your ankle upwards, testing the range of motion. Even in his anger, he treats you like you’re made of glass.
He hadn’t treated you like this when you first started out. He’d just kind of begrudgingly tolerated all your quirks, watched as you bulldozed your way into his little travelling party. But then, as time went on, he’d become more tentative. More careful. He’d tell you to hide when an attack came on the village so you didn’t get in the way. You’d meet a new person and his arm would come up in front of you, like he’s shielding you from a threat. It’s almost subconscious. But it’s annoying.
“It’s fine.” You say, tugging your ankle away from his grasp as sitting straighter on the rock. You feel like a haughty child when he raises weary eyes to glare at you.
“It was shattered yesterday.” He reminds you. “If we’d been in any other village, you’d probably be out of commission for months. And I would’ve left you behind because we have to save-“
He cuts off abruptly but you can fill in the blanks of what he’d say.
An ugly thought overcomes you; what if I were her? It’s poisonous and burns in your chest. Jealousy is an ugly emotion but you’ve been familiar with it a long time. Ever since Yoongi and his crew arrived at your village in search of the long-awaited “chosen one”. It’s probably a dream every orphan harbours; that they are special and unique and wanted, and the murmurs that followed Yoongi’s arrival had probably triggered a similar feeling of longing across the many orphans that take up residence in your village.
Alas, that chosen one is not you; you remember your parents very clearly. Warm, kind, loving. They succumbed to the plague that had left the orphanage you grew up in overflowing. In such a full and overwhelmed establishment, it is easy to sneak in an extra child. And that’s what Jiyeon had been. Always on the outskirts, a little special and unique. She could never quite fit in with the other kids and for some reason you’d always resented that. Not only that; the way she never even seemed to try. She possessed some unique spark, some unfathomable dignity. Alone, dirty-cheeked, unwanted even in an orphanage, and yet there was always something special in her. And it never left her even as the two of you grew up and took your leave from the orphanage.
It hadn’t taken Yoongi long to find her- apparently Seokjin had some sort of specialised divination powers and he’d known who she was the instant he’d laid eyes upon her. Agnes, the local breadmaker, had taken her on as an apprentice and you’d even been in the store when they entered, seeking her out. There’d been something mysterious and terribly exciting about them- it had felt like the opening scenes of those adventure novels Jungkook would read out to the other kids in the orphanage.
And you’d witnessed the disaster that had followed- the attack on the village, your home, by those merciless monsters, the death of people you’d known, and Jiyeon’s ensuing kidnap. Someone apparently didn’t want Jiyeon taking up the mantle of her destiny.
You’re not sure why you insisted you come along on the journey to save her- you never liked Jiyeon. You didn’t know Yoongi or Seokjin or Hoseok. And your closest friend was adamant that he’d stay behind to assist in the rebuilding effort of your village.
Maybe it was something ugly; a desire for it to have been you instead. The one with special, hidden powers and an endless exciting adventure before you. As Yoongi looks up at you, you could believe that maybe that was your motivation. Maybe you wanted to be the one he was looking for.
“I would have caught up.” You finally say, instead of sharing any of those ugly thoughts. “If you’d left me, I’d have hunted you down and followed.”
Yoongi gets abruptly to his feet, and you nearly tumble off the rock in surprise.
“You’re a fool!” He cries. Your eyes widen, but he’s lost to a tirade. Alabaster skin has flushed a furious crimson and the dark points of his eyes have hardened- they glint at you like unyielding steel. “Don’t you understand what we’re doing here? We have to rescue the chosen one or the world as we know it is over. We’re on a time limit! This isn’t some fun whacky adventure with friends- peoples’ lives are at stake! And you’re just throwing yourself around like a thoughtless child!”
You stiffen defensively.
“I’m not being thoughtless-“ you protest, anger heating your words as you spit them out, but Yoongi cuts you off.
“You are! What powers do you have? What abilities? None! I allowed you to come because I didn’t think you’d get in our way so much!” He snarls at you. You throw yourself to your feet, your eyes blazing and your heart thundering furiously in your heart. “Instead you’re throwing yourself into fights you know you can’t handle! You should have left the kid to me!”
“So I was supposed to just sit and stay where you’d left me? Like a dog?” You cry. “When people are dying around me? When a child was about to lose his life?”
“You were supposed to not get hurt!” Is what Yoongi shouts.
And then he goes abruptly silent, his mouth closing so violently that you hear his teeth click together. He cups a hand over his mouth and turns abruptly away, shoulders hunched.
The change in mood is so sudden that you feel like you have whiplash; you almost lose your balance with the about-face. Yoongi keeps his back to you for a long moment, and there’s something hurt about the way he curls himself away from you. Finally, he takes a long, shaky inhale and when he finally turns back to you, his eyes are glazed with emotions you can’t understand. It’s not fair that he gets to stare at you like that, that he gets to make you feel two feet tall.
“Why did you come?” He finally asks, levelling you with a wary look.
The air feels heavy. You and Yoongi have had a good relationship from the beginning- he’s a little protective and a little bit gruff, but on the whole he’d looked out for you and if anything, you felt closer to him than you did to Seokjin or Hoseok. So this is likely the first time the two of you have clashed like this.
It’s probably the question he should have asked when you first demanded you accompany him. He should have questioned your motives. He’d had just enough interaction with Jiyeon to work out that she was a bit of an outcast before she’d been kidnapped; he should have known that she’s not your friend. Maybe that’s why you’re so fond of Yoongi; because he hadn’t asked any of those things. He’d looked at the plucky orphan and given you a chance.
You’ve questioned your own motives many times; why are you on this journey? Why didn’t you stay in your rightful place with Jungkook back at the village? Why did you insist you help rescue Jiyeon? There are motives you can’t shake; that it was for glory. Recognition. So that you could play at being hero. So that you could catch the attention of the mysterious, handsome stranger who is currently eyeing you like you’re an unfamiliar but dangerous beast.
But you want to believe the motive in the depths of your heart is true; that are your core, you are good.
She’d met your eyes, the moment before those beasts grabbed her. She’d stared straight at you and begged you for help.
“Because people need help.” You finally say. You gaze straight at Yoongi, willing him to understand. Willing him to believe. Willing him to see the good in you that you want to believe is there.
Yoongi offers you a searching gaze; deep, dark eyes seem to pierce through to your very soul. He’s always had sharp eyes- he picks things up faster than anyone you’ve ever met and he notices things that no one else would even think to look for. It’s terrifying and exhilarating to have all the focus directed completely on you, even if it is only for a heartbeat. Like he’s disassembling you, piece by piece.
And then he turns away, shoulders stiff and posture ready like a well-trained soldier, and he begins to march off.
“You get two days of recovery. And then we start your training.” He glances over his shoulder at you. “If you’re to accompany the chosen one on her journey, then you must be able to defend yourself. Otherwise, if you continue to burden us like this, I shall chain you to your home at the village personally.”
And you can’t read his expression for the life of you, but there’s just something fond about the way the light glints off his steely eyes.
++
“Can’t I train her?” Seokjin complains, chewing through a mouthful of dried meat. He looks you up and down like he’s seizing up your weakness and you stick your tongue out him childishly. “I think she needs some work on her defensive skills; perhaps I can come at her with a stick and she can try and fend me off.”
“That just sounds like you want revenge for the mouse she put in your bedding this morning.” Hoseok offers helpfully.
Yoongi chews through his rations slowly and thoughtfully before levelling a glare a Seokjin.
“You can train her as soon as you best me in a fight. If you’d like, we can test that out right now and I can give (Y/N) a day off-“
“That’s fine.” Seokjin hastily cuts him off. “You know what, actually I think I need to do some meditation this morning, make sure they haven’t shifted Jiyeon’s location and that we’re still heading in the right direction.” He scurries off, not sparing a look behind him and you resist the urge to snort in laughter. Perhaps the mouse had been unnecessary, but some sort of revenge had been required after all Seokjin’s recent comments on the amount of time Yoongi had been taking to train you.
It had been months now, since Yoongi had decided you needed training; you were still a beginner by all means but Yoongi is a good teacher and with each day that passes you grow more adept. It leaves you a little sad; had he been able to mentor Jiyeon and cultivate her special abilities like he intended, perhaps the world would already be saved and the growing evil sealed permanently.
“You never did say why you decided to start learning to fight, (Y/N),” Hobi comments conversationally; though he is just as much a coward as Seokjin, he does have some sort of immunity to Yoongi’s withering glare. This leaves him undeterred by Yoongi’s subtle hints that he is unwelcome at your training sessions, for the most part.
“If she’s coming along on a dangerous journey, she needs to learn to defend herself.” Yoongi cuts in. He finishes the last of his meal, and gets to his feet. He stretches languorously, like a cat, peering at you through squinted eyes. “I’ll give you an hour and then we’ll get started. We’ll make camp here for tonight and cross the river in the morning.”
He wanders off, leaving you with Hobi. Hobi watches him go with mild curiosity.
“What happened between you two when we got separated?” Hobi wonders aloud. He tilts his head and stares at you. “Something just... seems different with you two.”
You pause to consider; true to his word, Yoongi had given you another couple of days to recover, and then he’d started his training. The two of you would spend the day hiking and in the evenings when you’d made camp for the night, he’d teach you the basics of combat. But despite his rigorous training, there was no denying that Yoongi treated you differently after that day. Not hugely different- his protectiveness hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t any less gruff than usual. He just seemed... a little warmer. Kinder, even. Except when he was training you and then he’d turn into a demon spawned from the depths of hell.
“Nothing we haven’t already told you; a village got attacked, I got injured, and Yoongi decided I should be trained in combat to stop it happening again.” You recall. Hoseok shakes his head in absolute bafflement.
“See, those all sounds like standard things for Yoongi, but then he also doesn’t seem like Yoongi. He’s so... different with you.l Hoseok admits. “I’ve known him for years now, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he...” he trails away, before looking at you curiously. “Ah.” He makes a little noise of understanding.
You lean forward eagerly.
“What?” You ask. Hoseok holds a thumb and forefinger to his chin thoughtfully.
“Nothing. I just want to try something. Hold still.” And that’s all the warning you get before Hoseok dives at you. Your eyes widen as you lurch back, but you are caught off guard and so Hoseok is able to pin you easily.
“Hobi!” You cry in protest, but he just grins and leans in close. You can’t help but notice how compromising the position you are in is, pinned beneath Hobi, and when he drops down low enough for his mouth to tickle your ear, you can only imagine what the pair of you look like to a third party.
“Yoongi’s the jealous type, by the way.” Is what he whispers, and that’s all he manages to tell you before a very loud throat clear interrupts him.
Hobi leans back, settling on his heals but not bothering to get off you. Yoongi stares down at him, unimpressed. His lips are pressed firmly together, but otherwise his expression is unreadable.
“Ah, Yoongs,” Hoseok says cheerfully. “I was just thinking I’d test (Y/N)’s reflexes. See how your training is going for myself.”
“Hoseok.” Yoongi says cooly. He smiles but it has no warmth in it. “Surely you’ve seen me fight enough; are you doubting my ability to train her?”
He offers a hand out to Hoseok, who accept it cheerfully. Freed from Hoseok’s grasp, you sit up, brushing dirt off your tunic and then glaring at Hoseok.
“Never.” Hoseok says warmly. He’s entirely too cheerful and smug and you don’t know why.
“What the hell, Hobi-“ you snap, but Yoongi cuts you off.
“I changed my mind, (Y/N),” he says abruptly. He pins you with shimmering dark eyes. “We’ll start our training now; Hoseok has just helpfully pointed out some shortcomings.”
“You’re welcome.” Hoseok offers, before taking his leave to find Jin.
He’s gentle as he helps you to your feet.
Everything about him is almost overly careful, as he leads you away from the camp site to a small clearing. There’s a tension to his figure that you don’t quite understand- it reminds you of the fight you’d had, where he’d turned away from you, overcome with emotion.
Yoongi takes a long, deep breath.
“Are you ok?” He finally asks, when the tension has bled from his posture. You nod cautiously, and Yoongi nods awkwardly to himself, before sighing heavily. He shoves a distressed hand through his hair, and the dishevelled look makes him look younger, somehow. Yoongi hasn’t been very forthcoming with personal details about himself, particularly his age, but normally he looks just a bit older than you. But the look he gives you now is almost boyish, like a confused child lost in the woods.
“Hoseok’s always been nosey.” He comments. “He likes to do unhelpful things because he thinks he’s helping me.” The almost frazzled way he says the words is so unlike the composed man you know; you feel like you have whiplash and you don’t even know the reason behind his sudden and unexpected fluster.
“You mean pinning me?” You wonder. Yoongi nods, agitated, before stepping close to you.
“What did he say to you?” He asks. “When he was... he was... I saw him say something. What’d he say?”
You pause to recall the cryptic words- that Yoongi is the jealous type. It’s certainly an interesting little tidbit to know; a small part of you wonders if that jealousy would ever be directed at you, but you dismiss it just as quickly. But for the life of you, you can’t think why Hobi might have brought it up in such a context, or why he even thought it appropriate to pull the stunt in the first place.
“That you’re the jealous type.” You share, wondering if Yoongi will offer any further clarity or insight into the situation or if he will keep his thoughts to himself like he often prefers to do.
Something sparks in Yoongi’s eyes, and this, at least, is an easy emotion to interpret; irritation.
“Let’s just get started.” He grumbles. He guides you through your regular warm up. You’re thankful you’d eaten earlier than the others for you’re sure you’d have a nasty cramp if you hadn’t. Yoongi is short and clipped in his delivery and it’s clear the hounding from his peers earlier has left him in a foul mood.
Finally, after a series of difficult drills that he’s been practicing with you, he allows you a brief reprieve.
“You’ve come a long way.” He observes, while you take a long drink from a waterskin. When you stare at him questioningly in response, he settles down next to you and offers something close to a smile. It’s a little terser and a little awkward, but there’s a warmth to his eyes that you’ve steadily become acquainted with despite the rarity of its appearances. “Give it another few months and you’ll be able to keep up with even Jin.”
“I probably won’t.” You remind him. “Jiyeon’s being held at the next town- you’ll probably be too preoccupied training her to have these sessions with me.”
Yoongi stiffens, just slightly, but you’ve become accustomed with the way he expresses himself throughout the journey and you know the statement throws him.
“I can manage two pupils. It might even be helpful for her to spar with someone closer to her skill level.” He finally says. You nod, getting up and stretching, bouncing from heel to heel as an indicator that you’re ready to go.
“I suppose it might.” You offer, but now your mind is preoccupied. In the next few days, the four of you will enter into the territory where Jin can sense Jiyeon is being held, and they will begin her rescue mission. Following that, Yoongi had planned to withdraw to his hometown where he can safely train her in preparation. From there, the campaign begins; they must raise up an army mighty enough to take on the Empire and remove whatever curse upon the land the Shadow Emperor has wrought. It’s a long, arduous path ahead of them, one you definitely hadn’t thought through. But with your meagre, beginner fighting skills, surely you shall be more hindrance than help, as pointed out by Yoongi all those months ago.
Yoongi picks up on your distraction when he’s able to pin you in a fairly simple maneouvre. He plants a forearm against the base of your throat and pins your legs beneath the weight of his body. His body is warm against yours and the force of the blow that sent you sprawling has you breathless. You bring up your hands, trying to dislodge his arm, but he’s stronger and surer than you and it doesn’t budge.
“Distraction can cost you your life.” He comments, and his voice is a low rumble. His breaths come deep and heavy- warm puffs of air tickle your skin and his torso heaves against yours.
“Sorry.” You mutter. The pressure against you eases as Yoongi sits back but he doesn’t shift his weight off you.
“I was distracted too.” He admits. He rolls off you and straightens, dusting off his pants before extending a hand to you. “Let’s leave it here and pick up tomorrow. It might even be our last training session without Jiyeon so I expect you to work hard.”
You take his hand and the mention of her name has something dark and ugly churning in your stomach. This whole situation has your heart sitting cold in your chest like unyielding stone. You had confessed to Yoongi that you had come along on this journey because someone needed help- what about after? What role did you have to play in all this? Yoongi had just assumed you would continue to accompany them, but is that really what you should do?
“I’m the jealous type too.” The words come out of you softly, unbidden- you almost don’t realise you’ve said them until you see the way Yoongi stiffens.
“What?” He asks, turning back to face you. His expression is about as readable as a blank page- you’re sure the Emperor’s fortress would be easier to breach.
You swallow deeply and steel yourself. You’ve already said the words- it’s time you faced these pesky feelings before you make a decision you regret.
“I’m the jealous type too.” You confess, a little louder. “I don’t want to be your second pupil. I don’t want to be someone along just so Jiyeon’s less lonely and has someone to spar with. I like training with you. I want to keep training with just you. And the thought of sharing this time with her... it makes me feel jealous.”
Yoongi is silent, staring at you in confusion. It takes him a few baffled blinks before he manages an answer.
“We don’t have enough time for two separate sessions.” Is what he offers, the words slow and almost slurred in confusion. “And Jiyeon’s training takes priority.”
It’s a slap in the face, even if Yoongi doesn’t mean it in the way you’re thinking. He doesn’t seem to understand, but you want him to. You want him to comfort you and take away the ugly feelings storming inside you.
“I’m not talking about training.” You finally say. “I’m talking about us. You and me.”
Yoongi looks like you’ve just punched him in the stomach- the look of absolute bewilderment on his normally calm face would be funny if your heart didn’t feel like it was about to plummet straight through your body into the ground below you.
“I have feelings for you.” You blurt. “And I’m scared. Because Jiyeon’s the chosen one. She has to be your priority. The world needs that. But if she’s the priority... if she’s the one that needs to be trained and cared for and raised.... where does that leave me? Less useful than a packing mule.”
Yoongi’s expression is stony, but you can see the emotion shining in his eyes. His normally composed exterior is completely shattered, and for just a brief second you catch a glimpse of fragile, vulnerable longing.
And then his expression steels and it’s like a door slamming shut.
“I don’t have time for feelings.” Is what he says. He’s brusque and his words are firm and if you hadn’t caught that glimpse of emotion, it would almost seem cruel the way he delivers them. “And if this is what you are spending your time worrying about, then I think it best you return to your village.”
And then he leaves you, alone in the clearing to clean up the mess you’ve made of your own heart.
++
Despite his rough dismissal, you do not go home. You’ve come too far to not at least see Jiyeon safe and rescued. What comes after is something you can worry about when it actually happens.
Seokjin and Hoseok can tell something happened, but they are awkward and unsure about how to proceed since both you and Yoongi refuse to speak of it. Instead, the two of you arrive at some sort of wordless truce; he won’t send you home and you won’t bring up your feelings again.
The four of you arrive at the town where Jin can sense Jiyeon’s presence. It’s a fairly unremarkable town, just small enough that it’s hard to enter without people noticing your presence but just large enough that they probably can’t guess at your motives. It takes a few days of reconnaissance to discover where Jiyeon may be; this town happens to house a small, undercover faction of the emperor’s top mages, and a days’ hike out of the village holds a secret dungeon.
The decision is made to leave you behind, and though normally you’d insist you accompany them, a piercing glare from Yoongi has you meekly agreeing to stay overnight in the in . Your instructions are simple; if the four of them do not return by 6am the next morning, you are to cross the country and head to the town of Sabre, Yoongi’s hometown. From there, you should find the aid necessary to rescue the chosen one, and from there it will be up to Yoongi’s friends and family to replace Yoongi’s role as mentor and teacher to the chosen one.
You’re seeing the them off under the cover of night when Yoongi finally acknowledges you.
You’re about to turn back to the inn and retire to the room that you’d hired out when he calls your name. You turn back in surprise; Jin and Hoseok watch in confusion as Yoongi walks towards you. He shoves a hand through his hair in distress before coming to a halt before you.
His expression is oddly soft as he casts his gaze over you.
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. It’s soft enough that Jin and Hoseok can’t hear, but you hear the words as loud as day. “I’ll... I’ll see you in the morning.”
Despite everything, despite the ache in your chest, despite the overwhelming worry and concern, despite the fear, you smile at him. He looks surprised for a moment before you notice the slightest curl form at the edge of his mouth in a weak smile.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” You promise.
You do attempt to sleep that night; after all the plan is to leave straight away and flee to Sabre as soon as Jiyeon is rescued. You have a long an arduous journey ahead of you and you’re the only one who has the luxurious option of sleep. But you only manage fitful bursts, filled with nightmares. Finally, the dawn rolls around, though you do not feel rested in the slightest.
You rise with a sigh, readying your scant belongings and changing into appropriate travel gear.
And then, you wait. Waiting is agony- that’s something you learn as you settle beside the window of your small room and watch the sun peek between imposing stone buildings. The sky warms from a dull grey into a blushing pink, and then a bright blue. And all the while, you catch no glimpse of your friends. Six am comes and goes. No one had warned you how deeply terrifying your role would be. Waiting and uncertain. Are they dead? Captured? You do not know- they didn’t grant you the luxury of any information; just left you behind to deal with the mess, under the guise of “safety”.
Stiffly, you rise from your position. You do not dare check the clock. You do not want to know how long past the meet-up time it is though it must be at least a few hours. Your instructions had been to leave strictly as 6am lest people
come looking for you, but that hour has come and gone.
“You’re a liar.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the crisp morning air. It had only been last night that he’d promised to see you again; so quickly he broke his promise.
You kick the dirt aimlessly before beginning a quick stride for the edge of town, your head down. “A coward and a liar.” You assert, though your voice is thick with unshed tears.
You’ve just stepped into the woods that surround the edge of the town when you hear the crunch of boots in dirt and the clink of armour; soldiers are out and about. Perhaps they’re searching for your friends after a successful mission and Jiyeon is safe; perhaps they’re searching for any backup to exterminate and ensure her continued imprisonment.
You’re searching for a way to conceal yourself when an arm wraps around your bicep and nearly yanks you off your feet. You stumble back into a firm, warm presence, and one hand covers your mouth while an arm snakes around your waist, stifling your cry.
You don’t hesitate to utilise the momentum of your fall. You swing your elbow around to where you estimate your attacker’s abdomen is. They release a soft “oof” and you utilise the way that their arm goes slack to swing forward in the same moment you bring the heel of your foot slamming down over theirs.
They grunt and hunch over in pain.
“It’s me!” A familiar voice hisses, releasing you so that you can whirl around and see your attacker.
“Yoongi?” You say, before remembering the approaching guards and lower your voice. “You’re here?!”
“I am.” He comments softly. “Jin sensed you hadn’t left yet and I.... came to get you.” He confesses.
A clank of armour and the distant sound of voices has the two of you freezing; now is not the time for reunion. There will be time for catch up and explanation later. For now, you are in imminent danger until the soldiers pass you by.
Yoongi secures a hand tightly around your wrist and guides you through the undergrowth in a low crouch. He moves in the opposite direction of the voices, brushing branches out of the way.
“There’s a hollow ahead; we can hide there until they pass by and then we’ll make for town. The others will be waiting for us there.” He glances at you over his shoulder.
You don’t know what passes through his expression, but you feel his grip tighten just a fraction and his pace quickens.
The hollow he speaks of is a tree- rain has washed away the soil that the tree clung to. In its place, twist, skeletal roots knot and weave to form a dark space just large enough to hide some if they scrunched themselves up very tightly. You pause to raise an eyebrow at Yoongi. He pointedly ignores your scepticism, pressing pointedly on your shoulders until you obediently crawl into the space. He is not far behind- you feel the warmth of his form as he crowds you in. You’re about to comment that you don’t feel particularly hidden when you feel the brush of his magic; the shadows around the roots thicken. It’s a spell you’ve seen before- people’s eyes seem to just slide over the places that Yoongi’s shadows conceal.
“So are you going to tell me why you’re still here and not halfway to the next town when we agreed you’d leave three hours ago?” He murmurs from where he is crouched over you. Crushed up against him like this, he is a large, foreboding presence. Were it not for the glint of warmth to his eyes, the relief at seeing you safe, you could almost be afraid of this terrifying man. If he is, indeed, a human at all.
You could do a lot of things in that moment- pour out the anxiety and worry and misery and anger you feel and watch him boil in it; instead you release the fragile shard of vulnerability you had been trying to keep a tight hold on.
“I couldn’t accept you’d died.” You confess.
Yoongi’s eyes soften, and he drops his head so that it rests against your shoulder. His hair tickles the side of your neck and you feel the heavy weight of his breath as he exhales slowly.
“I’m sorry.” He confesses. You shake your head, attempting to shift back. Some distance would be helpful to the loud racket your heart is currently making.
“It was out of your control.” You remind him. “It’s hard to be punctual when you’re fighting against an empire.”
His arms tighten- a hand lifts from the soil and fits into the curve of your waist, anchoring you against him.
“Not about that.” He confesses. “About.... about what you said earlier. About your feelings- I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I have so much I must do and I can’t afford distractions and yet...... there is so much I want to be distracted by, (Y/N).”
He feels your surprised inhale, the way your ribs hiccup beneath his palm.
“I’m supposed to be protecting Jiyeon and yet when Jin told me you were in danger...”
He doesn’t have to finish the story. Here he is, holding you desperately against him like at any moment you may crumble. He left the chosen one vulnerable, unprotected and untrained to save you. The plucky orphan who should have never been apart of this tale in the first place.
Against your volition, you hand comes up to slide against his cheek. His eyes squeeze shut at the gesture- it reminds you of a cat, the way his eyes squint in contentment.
“I understand.” You admit. “I.... It’s not your fault.”
Those are the only words you can muster. How else can you articulate the way it has clicked in place? The burden Yoongi bears; the long, scary road ahead of him. He cannot afford to be thinking of the things he cannot have; and he cannot have you, as much as you both want it.
You know he understands what you meant; that your words have lifted a heavy burden from his heart. He did not want to hurt you; but he cannot drag you in.
You lean up, tilting your head up just slightly so that you can have a brief taste of the life you could have had; if you were born in a time of peace and prosperity. Perhaps you could have wedded. Had children together. Grow old with your hands linked together, smiling with recollections of a life well-lives. His lips are soft but firm, and the kiss is filled with sadness.
++
You eventually make the decision to go home. It’s not inmediatelt; you persevere for a while. You accompany them on the arduous journey back to Yoongi’s hometown. You assist with Jiyeon’s training as Yoongi intended. But eventually you come to accept the truth; this isn’t your journey to be on.
Jiyeon, who was suspicious of your presence at first given your history, is the one who protests the most, oddly enough. Perhaps you are the small piece of familiarity in a sea of chaos and fear, to her. And oddly, you are sad to say good-bye. Despite never liking her as a child, as an adult you begin to see it. The heart for others, the unwavering compassion and determination. She has the heart of a hero.
But that’s why you must return home; a hero needs a home to fight for, after all.
Yoongi’s goodbye to you is subdued. He does not voice his sadness- Jiyeon even goes so far as to scold him to his dismissiveness. But you know; you can see it shining in his eyes. If he lets go, he will break down. And you are leaving to prevent that; your goodbye will be for naught if he lets himself crumble here.
“It’s not forever.” You reassure your friends. Jin nods, tearfully, while Hoseok rests a comforting hand against his shoulder- normalky he would be the one sobbing the loudest, but he is to chaperone you home and then he will rendez-vous with the others in Yoongi’s hometown. “I’ll see you when the war ends. If any of you die, I’ll be very cross with you.”
That does it; the briefest, weakest smile from Yoongi.
And so ends this chapter of your adventure.
Epilogue:
The war lasts five years. Villages are ravaged, lives are lost and empires are brought to their knees. Joyous bells ring throughout your town when the news reaches you; the emperor has fallen.
For you, you don’t think much of it. The war had left countless children orphaned, and to the best of your ability you take as many in as you can handle. Ever since you and Jungkook took over the orphanage, funds have been tight and there have been endless mouths to feed. So the news of the war ending leaves you surprisingly underwhelmed. The end of the war will not mean food appears from nowhere or make these children un-orphaned. If anything, your job gets harder now; as people lick their wounds and the fallen empire recovers, you will have your hands full with your children.
You’re informing Jungkook of this opinion quite loudly in the tavern one evening. It’s past curfew for the children and old Bertha had offered to keep an eye on things so the two of you could have a night off.
You’re surprised when a nearby customer snickers. Casting your gaze, you notice four hooded figures seated around the door. That in itself is not suspicious, for many travellers prefer to keep their identities concealed as they pass through.
What is suspicious is the brief glimpse you catch of one of the hooded strangers, the slight tilt of a smirk that seems almost familiar.
Having noticed your attention is drawn, one of the travellers lean forward.
“Do go on.” A familiar voice sounds. You nearly drop your glass as you blink a few times. Suddenly, your heart is racing.
“Do you know these people?” Jungkook asks curiously, eyeing the group with mild interest.
You’re too stunned to reply, so the initial traveller, the one who had snickered answers for you. He tugs his hood off to reveal chestnut hair, a heart shaped mouth, bright glittering eyes.
“I sure hope she does since we came all this way to find her.” Hoseok cries enthusiastically.
You distantly hear the sound of a chair sliding across wood and then realise the source is you, leaping from your chair.
“H-hoseok?” You cry. He grins.
“The one and only!” He caws. He gets to his feet to engulf you in a monstrous bear hug.
The other travellers take the opportunity to tug their hoods free; first Jiyeon appears, beaming at you, then Seokjin.
And then Yoongi. Five years has not aged him, though you always had considered the possibility that he is immortal.
Hoseok seems to realise he’s lost your attention, for he releases you and begins interrogating Jungkook.
You’re far too preoccupied with the man before you.
“Yoongi.” You breathe.
The smile he offers you is surprisingly light and warm. Like a cat blinking contentedly in the rays of the morning sun. And despite it being nearly half a decade since you last saw him, your heart races just the same.
“You did say it wasn’t forever.” He offers you simply.
And as your eyes water and fill with tears, you offer him a weak smile.
And so begins the next chapter of your adventure.
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Wish Upon an Idol (Ch. 4)
Chapter 4
Pairing: ot7 x reader
Summary: The Bangtan boys have the ability to grant wishes (unbeknownst to you, the brand new addition to their friend group) So when you jokingly wish you had superpowers to “help the world in a way you knew how” what happens when wake up the next day with extraordinary abilities?
Warnings: Drama, angst, a lot of action, smut, and a bad attempt at being humorous.
Warnings for this chapter: Angst - anxiety attacks, reader is implied to be bisexual, crying, self doubt, reader is very frustrated- steamy make out session ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Word Count: 4,945
Taglist: @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @snowythellama @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore (If you want to be tagged just let me know) :)
Hope you enjoy!
You were angry.
So so fucking angry as you stormed down the street. Your body temperature was skyrocketing and you felt something animalistic deep down in your core that made you want to turn on your heel and tear your boss apart.
No. That’s not what these powers are for.
Nodding along with your thoughts you tried to calm yourself, to will away the sparks at your fingertips, and to slow down the erratic beating of your heart. You were aware that many people had watched you break Jaehyun’s nose, watched you storm out of the cafe with you creative choice of words.
Scrub the leeches out of the devil’s asshole. You gave yourself some props, you got your point across that you would never want to be with someone who constantly disrespects your boundaries, even after you had told them to stop. Your heart was already taken anyway.
What would the boys think? How would they react?
You wondered what the boys would have done if they had witnessed you throwing that ferocious jab at your boss. Would they be proud that you finally stood up for yourself? Would they be disappointed? Would they regret giving you powers in the first place?
Your heart dropped at the thought. Maybe your temper was too short for these powers. One wrong move and you could ruin someone’s life. Letting out a frustrated huff, you turned into a nearby alleyway. Your frustration and anger were building, leaving you feeling like a walking furnace. Leaning against a brick wall, you closed your eyes and thought of ways to cool yourself down.
Icebergs, Antarctica, glaciers, ice cold water... Truth be told, you just wanted to find the nearest lake and plunge into it. That would help you clear your thoughts and help your get back to your neutral state.
Pressing your cheek up against the cool surface of the building, you almost moaned out loud at the relieving sensation. Just a few more moments and you can walk home with a semi-clear head.
“Well, isn’t this a pretty sight,” Ah shit. “What’s a pretty little thing doing out so late by herself?” un-fucking-believable. Rolling your eyes you turned your gaze to the voice at hand, sizing him up, doing very little to hide your agitation.
“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon,” His eyebrows shot to his hairline at your snappy remark before he laughed coolly and you wanted nothing more than to swipe that smirk clean off his face. He reminded you of Jaehyun, just from his body language. It made you heat up all over again.
“No need for hostilities,” he responded, slyly. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright. I was worried.” he placed him hand over his heart in an attempt to make him look more genuine, but you could see right through him.
This guy’s bullshit smells worse than Jungkook’s sweaty gym socks.
“Oh, I’m sure you were,” you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the wall. “I appreciate the kind gesture, but if you could be so kind as to leaving me alone, that’d be fabulous.” just as you were about to walk out of the alley and continue your path home, a hand grabbing your arm stopped you.
“Hey, wait a second!”
You felt that if you clenched your teeth any harder, your jaw would break.
“Let go of my arm.” It was taking everything in you to not rip this stranger a new one. You were completely on edge, frustrated to no end, and wanting nothing more than to go home and neutralize your nerves. It was rather obvious that your powers were based off your emotions, so now it was important to make sure you weren’t feeling too much negativity to cause serious damage.
The stranger didn’t listen and if you weren’t overheating before, you definitely were now. Your face felt extremely flushed and uncomfortable. Your ears were ringing like a hot tea kettle and your heart was pounding just enough for the constant thump to hurt and hinder your breathing in the slightest. You felt the sweat on the back of your neck slowly trickle down and settle at the small of your back and your hands felt just as clammy. Too focused on not maiming this annoying stranger, you didn’t even realize he was still talking until you forced yourself to stop paying attention to your body in hopes that would distract you long enough to get away.
“Well, let me at least get your numb-”
“No.”
He blinked at you, frowning and you leveled his gaze with yours, hoping the pupils weren’t engulfed in glowing white. “Let. Go.” your words were deadly calm, despite your mind screaming at you to just grab him and toss him into oncoming traffic. No need to get too violent.
Things were getting too dangerous now as you felt the palms of your hands start to burn and you looked, unclenching your fist to reveal red palms and small sparks dancing along the lines of your fingers.
The jerk continued to stare at you before his frown turned to a scowl and his grip on your arm tightened to the point it kind of hurt. The feeling of anger and fear quickly unlocked your fight or flight instinct and you were soon swinging your hand up to smack him across the face. Short and simple to allow you time to get away, or so you thought.
What you didn’t expect was for him to catch your wrist and twist it, rendering you unable to use your hands and for your heart rate to kick up like it just took eight shots of pure caffeine. Natural instinct along with your powers kicked in like no tomorrow, and soon you found yourself kneeing the guy in the groin a little too hard, effectively making him release one of your hands. Not taking into account of how hot your palms were, you brought butt of your palm up and into his chin, knocking him off his feet and releasing your other hand.
His cry of pain would have been satisfying had you not been freaking out so badly, seeing the blistering red mark on his chin and neck. You had burned him.
Bringing your palm up to your cheek, you hissed at how hot your hand was, trying and failing to calm your breathing as you turned and hauled ass out of the alley, knocking into some people as you went. Your mind was working overtime, making sure to not use too much of your enhanced speed, yelling at you to use more of your agility so you wouldn’t bulldoze anyone else down, and making sure to not think too much in fear of triggering your elemental powers.
This was all just too much. You could hear every car horn, every heartbeat of the people you passed, vision blurring and focusing on all the wrong things, ears ringing, hands burning. Too much. Too much. Too much.
It’s a wonder how you managed to make it to your door in one physical piece while your mind felt like it was going to implode on itself.
~~~
Taking the door off its hinges would have been impressive to Seokjin, had he not seen the state you were in as you walked through the threshold. There you stood, the disconnected door in your hand, your chest heaving up and down like you had just run a marathon, and sweat dripping down your temple and onto your neck. Your eyes looked cloudy, unable to focus on anything and if Jin had looked closer, he would have saw the rapid movement of your pupils shrinking and dilating in a desperate attempt to lock on something without your vision blurring seconds later.
“. . . (Y/n)?” Standing from his spot on the couch, he stepped into your line of sight and your heart began to pound even louder in your ears as you saw him getting closer.
His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a single word. The sound of your erratic heart beat was driving you insane. Everything was too loud, too hot and Jin was suddenly way too close to you, reaching out to try and grab your hand that was most certainly hot enough to burn him. “No!” you snatched your hand away, cradling it to your chest. Jin held his hands up in surrender, moving slowly so as not to startle you too much.
“Give me your hand,” he stated, softly making sure to not extend his hand too fast. He looked on patiently as he watched you frantically shake your head. “No, I-I’ll burn you. I can’t- I just- I don’t-” Moving away from him you began pacing back in forth, rubbing at your face as if the skin agitated you.
“God, everything is too hot!” you screamed, before your clothes abruptly burst into flames. Seokjin screeched, jumping back so as not to get burned, staring in disbelief as you just . . . stood there as the fire ate away at your clothes, until there was nothing left, leaving you as naked as the day you were born. You were scared, so scared to the point that you didn’t care about the fact that you were standing stark naked in front of Jin, or the fact that anyone in the hallway could literally walk past and see you as well.
Looking up, Jin saw the way your lip trembled, saw the way tears formed at the brim of your eyes, saw the way your hands shook. The shaky breath that was exhaled from your lips made his heart break, watching as the first tear streaked down your cheek, followed by another and then another until you crumbled down on your knees, your face buried into your hands, sobs wracking your entire body.
Jin watched on, shocked into silence by the sudden outburst before his face softened into a look of sympathy. He cautiously made his way over to you with the same carefulness you would give to a frightened deer. He lowered himself down until he was on his knees in front of you, regarding the way your shoulders shook and how you were trying and failing to even out your breaths. Lifting his hand up, he intended to grab your wrist, but because of your enhanced senses, you were able to flinch away from him. You were still too hot.
Softly calling out your name was met with no reaction, but he knew you heard him. You didn’t want to look at him. You were scared and ashamed, the events of today felt like they spanned an entire week. You were so tired. So when Jin called out to you again, you peeled your hands away from your face and was struck with the sheer ethereal beauty that was Kim Seokjin. You were awestruck.
Going for a different approach, he simply held his hand out to you, giving you the choice of whether you would take his hand or not. You stared at his hand as if it were some sort of foreign object before looking back up at his face and shaking your head. “No,” you whispered, fresh tears streaking down the (s/c) skin of your cheeks. “I’ll burn you.”
“No, you won’t.” Was his delicate reply. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and comfort the tears away. Whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you were finally able to feel okay again. But he knew that if he did that right now, things would only erupt into chaos. Baby steps.
“I trust you, (Y/n).”
Looking back up at his face, studying his features, focusing on him. Only him. He was there for you and your heart began to beat faster. Taking a deep breath, you looked back at his awaiting hand, slowly extending yours. Pulling back when you felt his skin against yours, only to realize he hadn’t flinched away from you. You knew your skin was hot, probably even unbearably hot, but he didn’t show any signs of discomfort other than a slight clenching of his jaw.
After he helped you stand up, he still held onto your hand as he led you into the bathroom, gently guiding you into the bathtub before sitting down behind you. Had you been more clear in the head, you would have asked him why he was still in his clothes.
Leaning forward, he turned the water to cold, watching as it pooled around you both, looking on in disbelief as the water immediately began to evaporate as soon as it hit your skin. He then turned on the shower head, feeling the cold water cascade over the both of you, hearing you sigh in relief and watching your tensed body finally relaxing. You leaned back into his touch as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing the skin in soothing circles. Reaching up, you grabbed his hands, squeezing them gratefully and relaxing into his chest.
You stayed like that for a while; in complete silence with cold water flowing down from the tops of your head to the tips of your toes. Rubbing at each others knuckles, as a way to acknowledge one another without having to actually say anything. You’ve never been this intimate with him or either of the boys before, letting him cuddle in the bathtub with you, let alone him seeing you naked. Sure there would be relaxing sessions on the couch while watching a movie, but for it to get this far, was truly mind boggling. You were much more comfortable around other women, it seemed much more natural to be intimate around them, granted this did feel nice and it was helping you calm your nerves that just moments before made you take out an entire door. These past few days have been absolutely insane.
You remembered what the boys had said; if you didn’t want the powers and responsibility anymore, all you had to do was wish them away. But even as you think about the events that occurred today, and the similar events that might occur in the future, you realize that you still wouldn’t give up these powers. What kind of impression would you have of yourself if you just gave up just because some days are harder than most. You wouldn’t be able to look at yourself if you gave up so easily. You had to keep fighting.
You both stayed in the tub until you had finally cooled down and started shivering from the cold water. Stepping out of the tub, you turned to Jin, only to see his clothes completely soaked. You looked at him curiously but he only smiled at you before beginning to peel his shirt off.
Eyes, widening and face reheating, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes trained on his face and damn near popped a blood vessel when he looked at you and smirked. He even had the audacity to wink at you. Good to know his playful attitude was intact. Huffing out a breath, you crossed your arms over yourself to try and keep yourself warm. The thought of trying to use your powers to regulate your body heat sounded absolutely atrocious with how you were so mentally tired, so you opted for the old fashioned way. You turned to reach for a towel hanging on the rack just as Jin pulled his pants down, your heart rate picking up to match the speed of the flash. You felt another shiver run down your spine when you finally wrapped the towel around your body, a reminder that you were in fact freezing your ass off and needed to be put in some warm clothes immediately.
You felt like you were going to get whiplash with the way your body was trying to get used to your powers. First you were so angry to the point you burned your clothes off, and now, you were freezing to the point where you were desperate to have clothes back on. You grabbed another towel and turned back around to hand it to Jin, who had been staring at you intently, noticing the way your body reacted to the cool air. After grabbing the towel and wrapping it around his hips, he gently grabbed your hand and led you to his room. You were a little confused at first, wondering why he wasn’t leading you to your room so you could get dressed, but then realized that he might be letting you use his hoodie. You almost started skipping behind him in excitement as out of all the boys’ hoodies to steal, you loved stealing his.
There was something about Jin’s hoodies that were just extra cozy. If he had noticed your change in demeanor, he didn’t comment on it as he opened his door to his room and let you in first. Walking in, you immediately sat yourself down on his bed, hugging the towel close around your chest to keep it from falling and awkwardly crossing your ankles in an attempt to appear more casual. You dropped one of your hands to run it along his comforter. It felt warm and soft and it caused goosebumps to travel along your arms and legs due to the texture against your palm. As your hand glided back and forth against the blanket, you wondered how you were going to explain this entire situation to Jin and the rest of the boys without them thinking that giving you these powers was a mistake.
Hey guys, I quit my job by breaking my boss’ nose because he wouldn’t stop groping me and while I was walking home, some creep tried to hit on me and I ended up burning him after he tried to grab me. Oh and also, we need to look into getting a new door because I accidentally hulked out on it trying to get into the apartment, and I spontaneously combusted because I was in the middle of a panic attack and Jin saw me naked! :D
Yeah that conversation is going to be... quite interesting. You internally cringed, wondering how you were going to muster up enough energy to even start that conversation.
Too lost in thought about the entire ordeal, you didn’t notice Jin rummaging through his drawers until he had set out a hoodie and pair of boxer briefs in front of you. The hoodie looked like it could swallow Jin whole, so you immediately knew that you would be swimming in the article of clothing before you even unfolded it. You were grateful for the size though because as soon as you had put it on, you were immediately engulfed in warmth and you exhaled as your cold body was finally able to start relaxing.
Jin smiled at you as you attempted and failed to get rid of the sweater paws that were forming around your hands and led you back out to the living room. By now, the sun was close to setting and the door to the hallway was still very much laying on the floor instead of being on it’s hinges. You groaned as you sat down on the couch, Jin sitting down next to you and setting your legs on his lap.
After a few beats of silence with Jin massaging the muscles of your calves and you fiddling with the hem of the hoodie, you finally looked up to see him looking at you. “How are you feeling?” he asked, searching your face for any distress. You opened your mouth out of instinct, ready to deliver your answer as if you were on autopilot.
“I feel fine.”
He raised his eyebrow at you, telling you that he didn’t believe you for a second. “Come on, (Y/n), we know you better than anyone. You can’t lie to us. You can’t lie to me.” Gently grabbing your chin and making him look at you made you puff out a breath. Rolling your eyes, you moved away from his hand and leaned back against the couch.
“I don’t- I mean, I don’t really know where to start,” you shrugged your shoulders, trying to rack your brain for the right words to say. “I broke my boss’s nose because he kept trying to advance on me even after I said I wasn’t interested. He kept saying that my “no” was secretly a “yes”. He wanted the chase, it was all like some fucking game for him. I told him no again, and when he grabbed my arm, I punched him in the face.”
Jin nodded, listening intently and waiting for you to continue. You wanted to leave it at that, but you knew he wouldn’t let up until you had gotten everything off your chest. “I walked out after we had yelled at each other. I had some pretty.... unique parting words for him, but then I was walking home and I was just so angry and everything was suddenly heating up and going in and out of focus. So I stepped aside to try and calm myself down, but then this guy tried to hit on me. He was so creepy, and he had grabbed me, but I had burned his face. I just-” you didn’t realize how you were still worked up about the situation as you choked on your words.
“I was just so scared that I would hurt someone innocent and I was so angry I couldn’t even see straight which made me even more scared and I just wanted to get home but then that happened,” you gestured towards the broken door and sniffled, not realizing you had started crying again. Luckily your body seemed too exhausted to overheat and you were grateful when Jin pulled you into his lap and held you close.
Burying your face into his neck, you let out the tears you had been holding back all day, finally being able to let your body sag after all the tension was released. Jin soothingly rubbed your back, pulling you to face him after you had finished letting everything out, and wiping away at the tears that slid down your cheek. Your face and eyes probably looked puffy from all the crying and you felt like you looked crazy, but it had only made Jin fall in love with you more, letting him see you be so vulnerable and being able to comfort you.
He kept his hand on your cheek and watched as you leaned into his touch closing your eyes and sighing. When you were able to stabilize your breathing, you finally opened your eyes and were once again struck by the pure beauty that was Kim Seokjin.
“You truly are beautiful, Seokjin,”
You could have cringed at the way your voice whispered those words, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to nitpick the way you sounded right now. You felt your ears begin to burn after he had remained silent, too lost in your self doubt to see how red his ears and cheeks were turning. You went to move off of his lap, intent on going to your room to lay down, but were stopped when you felt his hand on your cheek become firm to keep you in place. He took a second to look at you, from you (h/l (h/c) hair, to the way you hiccupped trying to recover from crying so much, to the redness that surrounded your (e/c) eyes to the way left over tear streaks smeared on you (s/c) skin. He felt like he had spent thousands of years with you as well.
“I know,”
You couldn’t hold back your laughter even if you wanted to. Your body shook with the force of your laugh. Burying your face in his neck again, you let his laugh fill your ears while you felt his hands massaging your back and leg. You stayed like that for a while, the only noise filling the room being your occasional sniffle and the little hitch in the shakiness of your breath from still trying to recover from your crying session. You still felt upset and you had no doubt that one small thing could possibly trigger another crying session, but right now, you were content with keeping your thoughts empty and just listening to the sound of Jin’s heart beating clearly in your ears.
You were close to dozing off in his lap when he finally spoke up, making you tune out of your little bubble.
“For what it’s worth, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve laid my eyes on,” You couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not, so you sat up to look at his face again. After examining his face, you still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, so you snorted and playfully smacked his chest. “Yeah right,” you rolled your eyes. “Don’t try to pull that on me after you’ve been alive for over a thousand years, mister.”
You giggled a little and he smiled at you, cupping your cheek again, forcing you to look at his face and your giggling to fade. “There is no one who is as incredible as you, (Y/n). You are truly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever encountered.”
You were at a complete loss for words, gaping at him. You felt your ears heat up, wondering if the pounding you heard was his heart or yours. Noticing him staring at you intently, you also noticed his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips constantly but you felt stuck. You were way too scared to just lean forward and connect your lips, even though you’ve always dreamed about what those pillows for lips would feel like against your own. You got lost in thought once again thinking about how unfair it was for this man to have such luscious lips, it should be a crime.
Too far gone in your own thoughts, you barely noticed Jin leaning close to you, up until his nose brushed yours and he stopped. Both of your eyes were closed, yours being closed out of fear that you might spontaneously combust, his being closed in fear that this might be a dream. You’ve dreamed about this moment for so long, wondering if he was waiting for you to make the call of whether you’re going to press your lips against his or pull away.
Releasing one shaky breath, you decided to throw caution to the wind and lean forward. Your lips brushed against each other for no more than a second, pulling away for a moment and searching his face, only to find him staring at you as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world. You took that as a sign to lean back in, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips more firmly onto his. The feeling of his lips against yours could easily be something to become addicted to, as you felt his hands trail down your back, causing you to shiver while they settled on your hips.
You wanted to deepen the kiss, so you opened your mouth and swiped your tongue on his bottom lip. That must have triggered something in him, because he trailed his hands down from your hips to grip your ass and squeeze, which caused you to yelp, and for him to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.
Out of all the ways you had thought this day would end, french kissing one of the men you’ve been in love with for months definitely did not cross your mind. But you couldn’t really complain when Jin shifted his hips up and you got a very.... detailed feel of him. The whimper that left your lips could have brought any man down to his knees, and Jin contemplated on whether he should start moving your hips against his or if that might overwhelm you too much.
Your body had started moving on its own accord as you began moving your hips against his, feeling his groan against your mouth. You kept moving your hips, getting worked up at the feeling of him against you and the sounds leaving his mouth, until it had all began to feel like a little too much and the clothes you were wearing began to feel too stuffy. So, against your better judgment, you began to slow your hips down, pressing one more tender kiss against his lips before pulling away.
He searched your face for any sign of discomfort and when you had clarified that it was just you getting a little too excited, he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “It’s okay,” he gently reassured you when you went to bury your face in his neck again. It was beginning to become a favorite spot of yours. “We go at your pace, no matter how fast or slow that might be.”
You didn’t think you could love this man any more, and yet here you were constantly being proven wrong. It didn’t take long for you to finally doze off, with the events that happened, you were surprised you hadn’t just collapsed as soon as you got home. You were lulled to sleep by Jin’s comforting hand rubbing your back, his lips on your forehead and his heart beat in your ears.
He was finally able to relax his tensed body when he felt your body release all the tension that had built up, closing his eyes and almost dozing off himself, until he heard footsteps walking toward the apartment.
“What happened to the door?!”
A/N
Alright, so this chapter is very long overdue. I’m pretty sure I started this story back when my senior year of highschool began and now I just recently finished my freshman year of college. I either couldn’t find the time or motivation to try and finish the chapter but I’m glad I finally did. That being said, I can’t be too sure when the next chapter is going to be, but I hope you stick around nonetheless!
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know what you think! your feedback is always welcomed!
#bts#bts series#bts fanfic#bts x reader#park jimin#kim taehyung#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jeon jungkook#Jung HoSeok#bts jhope#ot7 x reader#poly ot7#ot7#jimin x reader#seokjin x reader#taehyung x reader#hoseok x reader#namjoon x reader#jungkook x reader#yoongi x reader#polyamarous
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Navigating the Storm (1/4)
Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*
Author’s Note: Thank you to my friend @hollyethecurious for beta reading this story for me! I have had this written for about three months now and have finally put on the finishing touches. This is part 1 of 4 - I will post a chapter a week. Hope you guys enjoy!
Rated M 4.5K ao3 ffnet Under the cut, promise
It had been exactly two weeks since they’d stepped foot back in Storybrooke, since bringing Henry home safely from Neverland. Two weeks in which Emma Swan had had very few chances to just be, to just breathe. Each breath felt like it was choked by the need to scream or cry. Two weeks of restless nights and emotionally fraught days; parents urging her toward a man she did not want, her mom wanting a new baby, another mom wanting her baby, not that she held anything against Regina. Henry was as much Regina’s as he was hers, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh heavily on her soul. And of course there was Neal, who had been an ever-present thorn in her side during the last two weeks.
Emma wanted to blame everything on Neal, it would be so easy, but she couldn’t do that, there was rarely only one person to blame. She had to take some responsibility, too. He’d been bugging her about giving their relationship another shot, about putting aside the past to make a better future for Henry. Each time, Neal’s words would hit the solid mass of her thick skull and bounce right off, while simultaneously invoking a silent wrath in her being. What the everloving fuck was he thinking? How could the two of them being together be good for anyone? It didn’t help that her parents both still thought Neal was a saint. It didn’t help that each time they unwittingly made little comments about her giving him a chance, it felt like a little more of the world weighed on her shoulders.
Each morning she dragged her feet getting out of bed, if only to delay dealing with the barrage of shit she didn’t want to hear about or deal with. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit the reason she was feeling like this was because she was effectively not dealing with any of it. But why choose now to be honest with herself, she’d been content to ignore every other issue she’d dodged in life, abandonment, intimacy, self-worth, why stop now?
Emma hadn’t felt emotional sadness like this since the days between finding out she was pregnant in prison and knowing she would have to give her baby up. Her body felt heavy, her mind felt clouded, and her soul was just… sad, there wasn’t a better word for it. She hated this feeling, and when the sadness became too overwhelming, anger often surged in, and no one needed an angry Emma Swan around. She loved her family and her family-by-extension, but she needed a break.
As she walked toward Granny’s at a molasses slow pace, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, head down, where she was meeting her parents, Neal, Henry, and Regina for a late dinner, her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to inhale air past the lump forming in her throat. A deep anger rose within her, mostly because she was pissed at herself for wanting to cry. She didn’t know how to make everyone understand what she was feeling and why she was feeling it. No one had ever taught her the healing power of communication, while growing up in foster care. As the anger finally defeated the desire to cry, Emma Swan did what all responsible folks do and locked that shit up, deep inside where no one would see it.
“I saved you a seat, Ems,” Neal offered as she entered the diner.
“Yeah, look mom, right between me and dad,” Henry piped in.
Emma glanced at the six of them, one seat between Neal and Henry, no doubt by design and one seat at the other end of the table by her dad. “Uh, I have to discuss a case with David,” she lied. And boy did that make her feel like Shittiest Mom of the Year. “I’ll come back in a few.”
Taking off her jacket, she sat next to her dad and began speaking with him about the new project they were working on to make Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department digital. There was truly nothing she needed to discuss with him right this instant, but she could not handle another manipulation by Neal, especially in front of Henry, about getting back together.
“Why don’t you go sit with Henry and Neal,” David whispered, “we can discuss this tomorrow at work.”
Sucking in a deep breath to tamp down the edge of anger that started to creep up on her, Emma realized there was a silver lining here. At least he had whispered.
“I’m perfectly fine where I’m at,” she quietly replied, affecting a sense of calm she didn’t really feel.
“Oh, honey,” her mother began in what was not a whisper, “go sit down there, let me get a picture of the three of you.”
And just like that, there was another brick piled on her shoulders. She understood that her parents really did want what was best for her. Why couldn’t they just magically understand that Neal wasn’t it? She could hear Neal trying to coax her over and her head started to spin. She really did need that break.
As she choked on the sob that wanted to escape, the bell above the entrance rang, and if she’d never experienced what being saved by the bell meant, she was right now. “Hook,” she murmured, just a little more breathlessly than strictly necessary.
“What?” Snow asked.
“Hook’s here,” Emma said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hook?” Emma called over to him. He was just the buffer she needed tonight. She didn’t miss the intrigue in his eyes, which he quickly masked with a conciliatory smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty blue eyes.
“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t wish to intrude,” he answered graciously.
“You’re not intruding, we were just sitting down to eat a meal. Everyone has to eat.”
“Well, if all of their Royal Highnesses don’t mind,” he acquiesced.
“Everyone scoot one seat to their right,” Emma instructed, she didn’t expect him to sit next to Neal, not with the current state of affairs.
Snow stared at her daughter wide eyed and Emma just stared back through narrowed eyes, hoping that her expression conveyed, he did save your husband’s life.
“Ems, I thought you were going to sit with me and Henry,” Neal asked, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.
And I thought I was meeting you with the bag of watches, not the cops, Emma thought bitterly. If Neal was going to use Henry against her, he was going to be sorry. She wasn’t going to stoop to the level of using a child to get what she wanted, but she was also not going to be bulldozed by her ex.
“That’s okay, dad,” Henry intervened. “Mom can sit with her friend. How’s the fastest ship in all the realms, Captain?”
Emma beamed at her son’s cherubic nature. He was truly good. He was innocent and perfect, and she felt like she might cry again as her young son saved her again.
“She’s jolly good, m’boy,” Hook answered merrily, obviously tickled that Henry had asked about his pride and joy. Or maybe it was simply because this boy treated him with common courtesy. Hook had vowed to himself to turn over a new leaf when he’d turned his ship around to help Emma save her son, and although he knew that, most people still treated him like the pirate they’d known him to be.
“You okay, Swan?” Hook asked her quietly, as conversation started up around the table.
“I- yeah,” she said, slapping on a smile, and even though it was an effort to smile, she found that she wanted to smile for Hook. She also found that he knew she was lying.
“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ve a never ending supply of rum aboard the Jolly.”
“I might just take you up on that,” she laughed. And it felt really good to laugh.
“I thought you said you’d back off,” Neal seethed as he walked over to their end of the table.
Emma looked between the two men before quietly sounding a warning. “We do not need another pissing contest here,” she hissed.
“Contest,” Neal fumed. “There is no contest, I’m Henry’s father, he’s a home-wrecking pirate.”
Emma’s head began to swim again as she listened to Neal berate Hook, as she read between the lines of what he’d said. He felt like he deserved her because they bore a child together.
“Is everything okay?” David asked.
Emma closed her eyes and weakly shook her head no. She would lose it if her parents got involved.
“Here Neal, why don’t you take my seat,” Snow offered.
Emma shook her head no again, but apparently no one was looking at her.
“Haven’t you destroyed enough lives?” Neal asked.
Emma’s eyes shot open and she’d hit just about her limit. Her throat felt like it was almost swollen shut as that urge to scream or cry or both, came raging back.
“Haven’t you done enough damage, Hook?”
“Bae-” Hook started
“Stop calling me that!”
“Neal,” Hook corrected, “it is not my intent to come between you and Emma. I was merely accepting the invitation she offered. I did say I would back off, I didn’t say I would ignore Emma if she requested my company.”
“Back off from what?” Emma asked, feeling a little annoyed that they’d been discussing her like a - she didn’t know what.
“Swan, I merely told Ba- Neal that I would not interfere if you two decided to pursue a chance at a family with Henry.”
“I think that is very noble, Hook,” Snow inserted.
“Not now, mom.”
“Well Emma, it’s only fair that you two have a real shot, now that you’ve been reunited,” Snow argued, “and I was just saying that I think it’s noble of Hook to put his feelings for you aside to give you and Neal that chance.”
That was it, that was her limit. Chances? Reunited? FAIR? The lights flickered twice before pitching Granny’s in darkness. Emma stood up and placed both her palms flat down on the table.
“Regina,” Emma said in a ragged voice, barely containing her emotions, which she desperately wanted to contain with Henry present. “Take him home, please.”
“Come on, Henry. I have lasagna at home,” Regina said, without having to be asked again. She could feel the energy of the situation sizzling about, and she knew only too well the magical properties of raw emotion. Of course Henry instinctively knew to listen as well. “Granny’s is closed,” Regina announced, “Mayor’s orders.”
The several patrons around had the good sense to slap some money on the counter and head out.
“I love you, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Henry said as he and Regina readied to leave. He came to her end of the table and gave her a hug.
“I love you too, kid,” Emma responded as she ruffled Henry’s hair, and the lights flickered back to life.
Once Henry and Regina were gone, Emma eyed her parents. She tried breathing in and out slowly. She didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to hurt them, she didn’t want to cry. But something had to give.
“Mom, Dad,” she whispered, as she knew her voice would crack if she attempted to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve been having a really-” a broken sob overtook Emma, halting her words. Her face crumbled, tears filling her eyes and falling to her cheeks, as the full weight of what she’d been dealing with overwhelmed her.
“Oh honey,” Snow cried as she stood up to try and comfort her daughter.
Emma held up a hand and shook her head no at her mother. “Please… don’t. I have to do this.”
Snow’s face fell as her daughter rejected her, but she sat back down to comply with her daughter’s wishes.
“Go on, Emma,” her father said quietly.
Nodding her head, she took another big breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time since we came back from Neverland. I’m happy that you want a new baby, I am, but it also hurt to hear that you wanted to have a chance to experience everything we never got to, and I know that’s not your fault, but it still hurts. And I am happy that Henry has Regina, because no matter what, she really does love him. But it hurts to have to share him with her when we have a third person to share him with now, it’s less time, when I’ve already missed so much.”
“It wouldn’t be if you spent time with me and Henry,” Neal muttered.
“Goddammit, Neal!” Emma yelled, pounding her fists on the table. “You have got to stop that. I’m struggling with my parents wanting a new baby and I am struggling with sharing Henry with you. But my biggest problem, the one that eats away at me every day, is you! I can’t stand the way you try to manipulate me in front of my son, making it seem like I’m the only reason we can’t be a family. You showed up to Storybrooke with a fiancée, don’t act like you came back here to win me over or some other noble bullshit. And I can’t stand that my parents think you should be my happy ending.” Another sob choked her words and she paused to catch her breath. “You will never be my happy ending,” she yelled before leaving the diner.
Emma jogged down the walkway, unsure of where to go, but knowing she couldn’t remain in there one second longer. She didn’t want to see the looks she’d put on her parents’ faces anymore and she didn’t want to deal with Neal. After an hour of wandering, she found herself down by the icy cold shoreline. She sat down in the freezing sand and folded her arms around her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she lamented the fool she’d made of herself and the mess she’d made of things.
“Awfully cold for camping at the beach,” Hook said.
Emma jumped so hard, it hurt her butt when she landed back in the unforgiving sand. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. Are you following me?”
“Sorry, love,” Hook apologized, holding hand and hook in the air as he always did when she went on the offensive. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. And no, I am not following you. I was up on the deck of my ship and saw your golden hair in the moonlight; wanted to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.” He handed her a blanket.
“Thank you,” she said through chattering teeth, only now realizing just how cold it was. “You probably need to invest in some warmer clothes if you’re planning to stay in Storybrooke for the winter.”
“Is that an invitation, Swan?”
She just rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to him to help her up.
“Don’t worry your heart, I am plenty hot,” he flirted, extending his hand and pulling her up.
“You are plenty full of yourself is what you are,” she laughed. “I don’t know why I ended up here. I just… I cannot go home. I should probably see if Granny has a room available. Paying her some rent is the least I could do after clearing out her customers.”
Hook scratched behind his ear, his nervous habit that always made Emma chuckle inside, because how did The Captain Hook have a nervous tic?
“You could stay on the Jolly, if you like. You know, instead of walking back to Granny’s.”
“Is that an invitation, Hook?” Emma countered.
“Actually, it is,” he said as he bowed deeply, holding his right hand out in the direction of his ship.
She decided it was probably her best option for the night. She didn’t want to see her parents at the loft, she definitely didn’t want to risk running into Neal at Granny’s, and she was far too proud to ask Regina for a crash pad. So, she followed the direction of Hook’s extended hand and headed to the Jolly.
“Thank you,” she mumbled as they headed down into the Captain’s Quarters. It was only slightly warmer below deck, and she wondered how cold he got at night.
“Perhaps a little gratitude is in order,” he smirked, pointing his finger to his lips as he had done several weeks ago.
Emma didn’t even have to think about it this time. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and backing him up against the wall. She kissed him just as passionately as she had back on that Hell Island, but this time, she had no intent of limiting their activities to just a kiss.
“Swan,” he moaned against her mouth.
“Hmmm?” she hummed as she continued to learn his mouth and his tongue which had come out to play.
She loved the way his hook felt pressed at her back and the way his hand cupped her cheek before sliding into her hair. She took the opportunity to quickly run her hands up through his chest hair before shifting them up under his jacket to divest him of it.
“Swan, stop,” he whispered between kisses. “Stop, darling.”
Emma immediately pulled back. Like, what? “What’s the problem,” she asked defensively.
“I apologize lass, it was a poorly timed Neverland reference.”
“A… joke?” Emma’s head began spinning again. One million thoughts ran through her head as her brows furrowed and panic hit her eyes. Her mouth turned down as a strangle hold settled over her... rejection. She’d had one melt down and now she was damaged goods in his eyes. A one time thing, she’d said, and he was the one who was going to enforce it. “I have to go,” she muttered, mind already on auto pilot to the lovely land of orphans-aren’t-worthy-of-love.
Killian quickly blocked her path to the door. Bad move.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she seethed. “You don- don’t want me...” Oh fuck, she panicked, the tears were going to start again. When would this roller coaster come crashing to a halt? Emma Swan, Dumpster Fire, she mused, it had a truer ring than Emma Swan, Savior.
“Don’t you tell me what I want or do not want,” Hook reprimanded. “I want you, I have wanted you, far more and far longer than you know.” He stepped into her space and lifted her chin with his hook, until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Make no mistake about that, love.” A fire burned between them, something palpable, and only by sheer force of will, was Hook denying himself the pleasure she’d been looking to bring him mere moments before.
Truth. Truth is what she saw in Hook’s eyes. “Then why are you pushing me away,” she asked, lips still quivering with the threat of tears.
“Because I won’t exploit your emotions, that would be the pinnacle of bad form.”
“What?”
Hook took her hand and led her to sit on his bed. “Emma, you just confessed major hurt and heartache to your parents. You obviously have unresolved issues with Bae, and you’re harboring a sadness that is ruling your emotions. Despite Neverland and everything that happened there, I have never seen you this close to the brink of despair.”
A tear slipped down as Hook brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Look at me, Emma.”
She sniffled, but complied, as she realized he was not going to continue until she looked at him.
“You are strong, and you will get through this, but a quick romp in the sack is not part of the solution. I cannot in good conscience let you lead us down a path that you will undoubtedly regret. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”
“If I don’t get to tell you what you do or don’t want, then you shouldn’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret,” she huffed.
Hook smiled at the fire that lit his Swan, and continued on, “I did promise Bae that I would back off, I thought it was best for Henry, if it was what you wanted as well.”
“I don’t want that,” Emma interrupted.
“I know you don’t want that. Tonight made that clear,” he assured her. “But tonight also showed that you have some things to work out. I am here for you, Emma, and no matter what our future holds, I will stand by your side and help you traverse all of it. But where matters of our hearts are concerned, I cannot be your port in this storm if you only plan to pack up and set sail when the tide calms and the tempest parts.”
Tears surged forth once more as she lunged at Hook again, but this time just to throw herself into his embrace. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but she knew that this, him, everything he’d just said, this was what she needed. Someone to stand by her side, someone to accept her for her, someone who knew that she had shitty baggage but was okay with it and wanted to help her lighten her load. “I just want to forget, I want five minutes where I don’t feel like everything is closing around me like a vice.”
“That’s it lass, everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Let it out, crying can be quite cathartic when you let it.”
Emma cried a little harder as she listened to his soothing voice. She sat up many moments later when she’d cried herself out. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the man next to her. “How did you get so wise,” she asked in a nasally, I’ve-been-crying voice.
“How’s that?”
“About crying being cathartic.”
“Ah,” Hook chuckled as he blushed a bit. “You pick up some things as the centuries pass. I may have learned that sometimes letting out pent up emotion is better than harbouring it until it blows up.”
“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, before leaning in and tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his lips.
“You called me Killian.”
The bit of awe in his eyes made Emma giggle. “That is your name, isn’t it?”
“Aye, but you know what I mean, love,” he chuckled with her.
She laughed again until she was caught in a yawn that wracked her whole body.
“Let me get you something to sleep in.” Hook went to an antique armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of long johns. “These should keep you warm.” After handing them to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you get some rest, no doubt your day has been taxing.” Then he turned to leave.
Before he could make it to the door, Emma reached out to grab his hook. He turned around to see what she needed.
“Will you stay with me?”
His eyes pleaded with her not to tempt him into breaking his word. His good form.
“I promise I won’t jump your bones, sailor.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but then she glanced away and folded her arms around herself, a vulnerability encasing her whole form before she spoke again. “I just want you to hold me,” she whispered.
His chest ached for her, for this tender side of Emma Swan that he’d never been privy to. Why would he ever deny her something as simple as holding her? “Of course, love.” After changing into something passable for sleep attire, he joined Emma in his bed.
“I know this is going to sound sappy, but today, at Granny’s, when you showed up, I was on the brink of losing my mind,” Emma confessed as she lay snuggled against his side, his right arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe. “But when I saw you, I felt like… like I might be able to get through it, like everything would be okay, if only you were with me. That’s why I asked you to stay.”
“And did it help, having me there?”
“All I know is, even though I didn’t say everything I need to get off my chest, I did get through part of it, and I am glad you were there.”
“Happy to oblige, darling.” Hook craned his neck forward to place a kiss to the crown of her head.
Pulling the blankets up to her neck, Emma shivered. “Give me your other arm, you’re warmer than these blankets.”
“My hook,” he said, holding up the shiny version of his moniker. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally harm you.”
“Then take it off,” Emma responded as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.
“I don’t think so, love.”
“Why not?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.
Hook took advantage of his freed arm and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a sight I wish you to see, it’s actually quite revolting.”
“I don’t believe for a second that any part of Killian Jones is revolting,” Emma said, gently pulling his left arm toward her.
“Swan,” he groaned.
“Killian, you saw me at my most vulnerable today, and you didn’t run for the hills. I won’t either,” she promised softly. “I don’t think you understand that what I like about you is this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “the man you are.”
Killian placed his hand over hers, where it rested on his chest and brought it to his brace. “Okay then, go ahead.”
Carefully unfastening the buckles, Emma pulled the entire brace away from his arm. She held his forearm in one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand over the scarred flesh, inspecting the damage. Although Hook was right, it wasn’t a “pretty” sight, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have had her believe. “Does it still hurt?”
“Aye, sometimes.”
She delicately massaged in a downward motion, from his forearm to the end of his wrist, and watched his face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but rather, watching her ministrations. He looked half panic stricken, like he might bolt, and half enchanted by her touch. She followed the pattern several times until he’d fully relaxed to her touch. “See, was that so bad?”
Hook’s face was a deep shade of red and his entire body had broken out in goosebumps. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never willingly let another person see his mutilated arm, let alone touch it. On one hand, it was that bad, he felt laid bare before her and he was still dressed. On the other hand, or hook, as it were, he felt something akin to what she had explained earlier, like he would be okay, because she was there. “I suppose not,” he murmured, all the more enamored by this enchanting woman.
“Good.” Laying back down, she wrapped both his arms around her and snuggled into him. “Much better.” Emma slept better that night than she had since they’d come home from Neverland.
Tagging some lovelies - please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!
@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells
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Rain On Me
A Motel Smut Fic
Summary: The rumbling of the engine vibrates through her exhausted body, the fatigue from her aimless walk now catching up with her as she clings to the wide span of his torso. The rain leaves his thin cotton shirt plastered to the coiled muscle of his abdomen, those enticing abs she had only seen a glimpse off are tight and compact beneath her weather worn digits.
Author's note: Sorry that this took a while, life has been a bit busy in the best way. I’m very excited to see so many others joining the fandom and writing fanfiction though, glad to be able to read stories from talented writers! I hope you guys enjoy this one, I had a harder time than usual with this smut, and the pov switches a few times because MY and GT had a lot to say and I just followed their lead. I can never write smut without a tinge of emotions so please excuse the excessive inner thoughts and inner monologues, I initially planned on just starting with the sex but I just love a build up. * Plays Ashanti’s “Rain On Me”
Thank you for the beautiful header @essantial you’re the absolute best!
The rumbling of the engine vibrates through her exhausted body, the fatigue from her aimless walk now catching up with her as she clings to the wide span of his torso. The rain leaves his thin cotton shirt plastered to the coiled muscle of his abdomen, those enticing abs she had only seen a glimpse off are tight and compact beneath her weather worn digits.
She hasn't the vaguest idea where he intends to bring them but she knows she'll follow him wherever he leads. Her heart had spattered to a stop just like the motorcycle's rumbling engine when she saw him approaching, his face chiseled and undeniably beautiful under the hard cascade of precipitation pouring from the skies. She'd never had a knight in shining armor, never had anyone try to protect her. She was hard, jagged and sharp, lashing out and wounding others before they could get close enough to harm her.
Yet.
There he'd been. Coming to save her even after snapping at her like a viper, acid dripping from the tip of his tongue as he crushed her under his foot like the empty can he'd compared her to. She had been too shocked to respond, to retaliate, to defend herself.
There was also that little voice that had awakened in her mind, advising her to think before she acted, a voice that frustratedly sounded like the very person who she itched to lash out at. The irony of her situation was not lost on her. He was both the one who tormented her and soothed her.
Ergo, she'd let his words slash her skin, hot tears boiling in her eyes as he rejected her once again. She hated herself for how devastated his words had left her, what he declared was no different from the thoughts that plagued her mind already. Was she just an empty can with no feelings? Loud and clattering, merely a hindrance to others who needed to be avoided at all cost? Was her father justified for squeezing the air from her lungs? If she had succumbed to death's inevitable call would she be doing the world a favor?
But, he had come to rescue her, and by extension of his act did that mean she was worth saving? Worth living?
"Get off. We're here." His curt words abruptly drag her back from her rumination, as he begins to slide off the bike, trying to pry her cold fingers from his immense warmth. "Let go." She tightens her hold fearing that if she releases he will abandon her, leaving her cold and alone. With a strong swipe he breaks her tight grip on his soaked shirt and stands up, long legs unfurling from their bent position on the bike.
"Come on."
He walks away before she obeys his direct command, and that's when she realizes where "here" is, a brightly lit motel, fluorescent light blinding in the dark fog left by the rain. After a slight pause, she hops off the bike following him through the glass door into the motel, the heat surrounds her almost immediately, her soaked body shivering underneath his sweater- the knight's armor.
The motel clerk perks up at their entrance, pushing the magazine he'd been reading to the side before welcoming them, "Hello, how can I help you?" His voice is inviting, much like a vendor selling goods on the streets.
Gang-tae flounders at the innocuous question, as she rolls her eyes, he routinely claims she's impulsive and needs to take time to think things through, yet he is the one that sped out on a motorcycle during a storm and now brought them to a motel only to act like a deer in headlights when asked a simple question.
She doesn't save him, watching him raptly along with the motel clerk. Curious about what he'll say next. Seconds pass as they both watch him awaiting an answer before finally, he solemnly turns to her, "Get a room here and wait out the rain. I'll ride home."
His words cut her like the blade of a sharpened knife, his presence was merely temporary, he'd had no plans of remaining with her, she was simply something to save and capriciously toss away before forming any attachment, insignificant. Anger and shame simmer in the pit of her churning stomach.
Poison curls around each syllable in her words, "I didn't ask you to bring me here, I was fine walking in the rain!" She spins around, with the full intention of marching right back into the rain and walking until her body is numb, longing to feel nothing and become the empty can he believes her to be.
His hand on her wrist halts her motion, "Stop being stubborn! You can't go back out there, it's too dangerous! Are you that fearless to travel outside in this weather by yourself? What if something happened to you and I wasn't there to--"
Her eyes widen at his shouted concerns, his grip on her wrist is hard as steel as his eyes pierce into her soul. Who is he to look at her like that and say those words to her? As if he cares about her.
She explodes.
Snatching her wrist from his hand she bulldozes into his space, eyeing with satisfaction as he retreats as she looms closer, one step forward, one step back.
"Why do you care if I'm out in this rain? Who cares if I put on a strip show outside like a crazy woman?" His eyes minutely twitch at the suggestion, something almost possessive flashing for only a second.
She misses it as her rant continues, "Are you angry? Does it bother you? Do you like me? Do you think you can handle it!" She barks each question into his face, until they collide with the machine, lights blaring in their sight, the crash from her hand slamming on its surface deafening in the otherwise silent hall.
It is dead quiet, only the sound of their breaths filling the air.
"Well? Why aren't you answering? I want to know how you're feeling, I can't tell. Maybe it's because I'm a empty can." She states spitefully, watching regret swirl in the dark pools of his eyes, his wet rain curled fringe only distracting her for a split second.
She shows no mercy, mockingly pressing on, "Why are you being so quiet? Are you an empty can too?"
Despite the clear difference in their height, he shrinks under her wrath, cowering under the weight of the carefully placed venomous words.
"I...I..." He stutters out, incomplete sentences dangling in the air, she watches as his eye dart across her face before he looks over her shoulder and suddenly turns a fiery scarlet hue. His cheeks lighting up like a wildfire. He pushes past her arm cornering him in and she spins around to continue her tirade.
Before her eyes land on the motel clerk, shiny foiled contraception hanging from the tips of his fingers, mischievous smirk on his face.
"She'll take a room." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and slamming down an indiscernible amount of money on the table.
The clerk begins to rattle off information about the quality of his "steamy hot" rooms and all the features available, mirrored rooms, costumes, handcuffs, and even a hot tub. She hears almost none of it, still stuck on his statement, she'll take a room.
The motel clerk passes the room key, glimpsing at them both, eyes pointedly lingering on Gang-tae as if trying to converse with him with just the shifting of his pupils, before mouthing, stay with her.
She doesn't give him a chance to answer, reject her again, he has hurt her enough today to last a lifetime.
The rolling sound of the zipping descending is loud as she pulls it down the length of her body, tugging the jacket swiftly from her body, ignoring the immediate chill that stabs her skin, shivers rushing through her body. Vehemently she throws the sweater at him, watching as he jumps back from the soaked material before his eyes land on her throat. He gasps at the sight.
She knows what he's seeing, can feel her father's hands still curled around her throat bruising the tender skin and marking her a monster. Something to be passionately murdered, snuffed out of existence.
If that was his sole purpose for coming she didn't need his fucking pity.
Snatching the key she storms off, absently listening as the clerk directs her to the location of her room. She strides down the winding maze of the hall, following the signs as they guide her until she sees her room door, 1J. Finally, she approaches the door, key already in hand.
Only to be stilled by a hand on her shoulder, twisting around in shock she's rendered speechless by the face that greets her.
She's never seen this man in her life but his smarmy smile instantly puts her on edge. A gold tooth glints back at her when his mouth curls up in a salacious grin, "What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all on your lonesome? You look like you could use some company." He boldly moves into her space, openly perusing her like goods, her skin crawls under his appraisal, her black undergarments peeking through the soaked white of her dress.
The desire to cover herself is colossal.
"Don't touch me." She shoves him away, snarling at his audacity, homicidal thoughts surging in her mind as she contemplates removing her shoe and bludgeoning him until he's an unrecognizable pulp on the dingy carpeted floor. 
He chuckles at her refusal, "Don't be like that. You should know that girls that look like you only come here for one reason. Don't play hard to get. I have money." He proudly pulls a few crumpled bills from the dark crevice of his pants, his hands encroach closer, intending to slip the money into the top of her dress.
She recoils from his grubby hands, voice raising with indignation and horror, "You think I'm a whore?! And you think you can pay for me with this measly amount of money? Get away from me you loser, use your hand like you have been all your life!" Her voice echoes off the walls and she watches the smirk melt off his face, giving way to pure distinguishable rage.
"You bitch! I'll show you your place!" His hand draws back, open palm flying toward her face. She stands still expecting the fire that will ignite on her cheek.
Only it never comes.
Her eyes which screwed shut in anticipation of the impact, flutter open only to see his broad back covering her completely. His hands are wrapped tightly around the wrist of the man, twitching in his grip as the man sputters out, "Who are you? Let go of me! This is none of your busine--aahh!!" He screams dropping to his knees as the pressure on his wrist increases, pain etched in every wrinkle of his putrid face.
"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, please let go. You're breaking my wrist, please!" The man pleads on the floor, pulling at Gang-Tae's hold, unable to pry even a finger loose, she watches as he squeezes even tighter, his own white knuckles standing out starkly against the burnt red of the man's wrist.
Then finally he releases him. Tosses his hand away with a short cry, when he speaks his voice is crushed glass, "Get out of here." The man clutches his tender flesh to his chest before scrambling away, too terrified to even look back at them as he runs away.
He turns to her with a penetrating glare, "Why are you standing in the hallway looking like that? Come let's go inside." He motions at her body at his first inquiry, eyes struggling to avoid her tempting figure that can be seen through the almost transparent dress.
She remains still, baffled by his sudden appearance before turning to open the door and watching dazedly as he enters the room, dragging her alongside.
She'd unaware of the internal battle that had raged his brain after her departure, his eyes had followed her longingly as she moved further and further away before disappearing out of his sight. He couldn't deny the fear that raked through his bones, yearning to protect her, he'd tried to leave only to stomp back in to the annoyingly cheerful smile of the motel clerk. Defeated, he'd asked for a second key and followed her down the hallway, only to see red and then black. His reaction had been visceral, immediate and uncontrollable. He'd yearned to beat that bastard to a unrecognizable pulp for daring to touch her.
Thinking of what would have happened had he not been there makes his skin crawl. He can't leave her alone in a place like this with suspicious characters like that lurking around every corner.
Despite his best efforts he couldn't stop the pull that she had on him, his body dragged into her powerful orbit. He watches her beautiful face, expressionless as she gazes at him, none of that fire that's usually directed his way. His eyes soften at the red markings that decorate her otherwise blemish free silken skin. His anger flares again.
"What are you doing here? I thought you left." Never one to stray away from a confrontation, she immediately begins her interrogation. Eyes narrowing into dangerous slits, tracking his every movement for signs of deceit.
At a lost at how to answer, he simply stands there, their eyes locked in a battle that has been fought many times since they crashed into each other's lives.
"I don't need your pity." She bites out, snarling at him.
Her fury ignites his own, "Good. You won't get any from me. I brought you here so I should stay. That's all."
Her eyes scream liar, liar, liar as they pierce into him but she doesn't question him any further. Stomping off to the what must be the bathroom before slamming the door shut. He sighs a short breath of relief before collapsing into the bed.
Without her there to distract him he openly glances around the room, cheeks burning when he notices what exactly he has willingly walked into. The entire ceiling is smooth clear glass, streak free and crystalline shiny. His own embarrassed face stares back at him, his lips opened in a small oh.
Something fuzzy and pink catches his attention in the reflection at the head of the bed, he turns to see what it is before flinching away in surprise. He falls off the bed during his jolt, butt plummeting into the floor.
His brains tumbles before resettling.
Hand cuffs. A pair of hand cuffs are attached to the metal bar of the bed post, one half closed as the other lays open in a fluffy pillow. He's only asked for a basic room, nothing special, his exact words. Yet there is nothing ordinary about this room. He mentally curses the motel clerk, that presumptuous instigator, he'd give him a piece of his mind when they left.
All the blood rushing to his head distracts him from hearing Mun-yeong's return. Steam wafts from the bathroom, completing her dramatic entrance, his heart thumps into his chest violently as he watches her step through the steamy fog.
God damn it.
Her long raven hair spills over a naked shoulder, wavy and damp, clinging to her skin as she approaches the bed. The only thing protecting her dignity is a comically small towel, barely reaching the middle of her thigh, putting miles of bare skin on display, her legs smooth and long, skin gleaming in the dim light.
His tongue is heavy and dry in his mouth as he gapes at her.
He juts his head up at the ceiling only to groan in frustration when her equally enticing reflection greets him. Stammering out, "Yah! Put--put some clothes on. You can't.... can't just leave the bathroom with a towel on!"
She smirks, "Why are you getting so worked up? You saw my clothes they're soaking wet, I couldn't put that back on. This towel was my only option, unless you preferred I came out naked." Her perfectly plucked eyebrow lifts at the provocative suggestion, he adamantly tries to obliterate all images of that very vision that rush to his mind. Other regions of his body similarly taking an interest with this conversation.
He doesn't respond to her obvious teasing remark. Primarily because he is overwhelmed, not used to being this turned on. He can't even deny that reality, not as the heat between his legs begins to perk up in interest, ignored for far too long.
Terrified he glances back at her, finding her enraptured in the ceiling , winking and smiling at her reflection, oblivious to his plight. Gratitude and relief both dance in harmony across his skin, he uses the diversion to quietly scamper to the bathroom. The door closing signaling a much needed reprieve. He lets out a sigh as he presses his head to the door, the wood cool against his hot face. In and out, in and out. He centers himself, tugging the strings of control back into there rightful place. Feeling the desire that bloomed in his loins fissure away until only smoke remains in its destruction.
Seeing her undergarments carelessly strewn across the floor almost undoes all the carefully constructed walls he built but he closes his eyes and hops into the shower, willing himself to think of nothing.
He did the best he could to wring the excess water from his clothes before dejectedly dragging the wet cold material back onto his now shower warm skin.
It's not the best solution but it is unthinkable to exit the bathroom in only a towel, knowing that she would be donning as little as well. If they were both in towels, it would be bad. Catastrophic, even.
He gives himself a pep talk sitting on the towel, praying for control and Mun-yeong's deep slumber that will last the remainder of the night.
His second wish is not granted as he opens the bathroom door, stopping in his tracks at the inexplicable scene.
Her lips are sealed around something plastic held between her fingers, she blows into the object and it expands in her hands, he notices the phallic shape before realizing that she's blowing the condoms like balloons.
Where did she get condoms?
Why does she have condoms?
Why was she blowing them up like erotic balloon animals??
He sputters out, flailing his arms, "Wha--What are you doing?"
With a final puff of moist air, she pulls her lips away from the condom, tying it off and looking at him nonchalantly, "You were gone for a long while, I got bored." She shrugs, "Plus we won't be needing any condoms tonight."
Disappointment drops like lead his his stomach at her statement, he should be happy, should nod in agreement and be thankful that they are on the same page, she will not be seducing him or tempting him to lose control.
Good.
Great.
Fantastic.
His heart shouts liar liar liar as he tries to convince himself.
"I'm on birth control so we don't need these getting in the way. I want to feel every inch of you, I don't want anything in between us." She calmly detonates a bomb on him, all while undressing him with her eyes and leaving every little to his imagination in her attire. Tossing the condom to the side to land with all the others she has blown up.
"I told you to stop. Stop saying things like that to me."
"Hypocrite. You're the one who brought me to a motel, you're the one that got jealous in the hallway, you're the one who came out in a storm to rescue me. Your actions scream as loud as my words. You want this too. You want me. Just admit it."'
Admit it.
His head is spinning from her accusation, his behavior has been nothing but confusing to him as well since the moment he raced out on the motorcycle, but hearing her lament everything so concisely forces him to face the truth. He had been the one to seek her out. Impetuously, searching for her as soon as he heard what happened, unable to stop himself from reacting. Why did she have this affect on him? What was it about her that called out to him so strongly? Why couldn't he control himself when she was involved?
All questions he wasn't ready to hear the answers to.
She wasn't wrong, he was a coward.
Wordlessly he sways to the bed, needing something solid to keep him afloat in the ocean of his thoughts.
The red circling her neck grabs his attention again and he whispers, "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"
Different emotions swirl in the haunting eyes and he fears she'll lash out at his question, coldly banishing it as the pity she shouted she didn't want from him.
She never does what he expects.
A humorless grin spreads across her face, "I'm alive. I'm fine. This wasn't the first time and it probably won't be the last. That man hates me and the feeling is mutual. You know what's funny, you're the first person to ask me if I'm okay. All of your little nurse friends just watched as he tried to kill me. Isn't that funny?"
It isn't funny. His hands clench in ire thinking about her gasping for life on the ground as no one came to her aide. Unable to fathom how her own father could be so cruel.
"That shouldn't have happened to you."
She looks at him dispassionately, fight leaving her eyes and her shoulders sagging.
"All monsters must die. Didn't you say that people like me should be avoided? Don't you think he was trying to do the world a favor by killi--"
"Shut up." He slams his hand over her mouth, rolling cross the expanse of the bed until they are a mere inches apart.
"You said you didn't want pity. So stop pitying yourself. What happened was wrong and you didn't deserve that."
Her eyes desperately search his face again, as she looks up at him, finding what they're looking for before he sees the sadness bleed from her eyes leaving room for something better, brighter.
It's only when her eyes shift to his lips that he realized how close they are.
Too close.
Moving his hand off her lips, he starts to lean back, scurrying back to safety. But she moves with him, towel shifting down with her upward movement, precariously close to falling and his eyes grow larger in fear.
Suddenly their positions are swapped and he's gazing up at her hovering over him, dark curtain of her hair tumbling over her shoulder and cocooning him. He aches to run his fingers through the locks.
"I don't want pity. But I do want your desire. You're looking at me like you want to eat me alive. Do it. Give me that."
His body constricts at the demanding request, shaking his head in arbitrary refusal, disregarding the heat and want that swells like a wave at her words.
"No. No... We shouldn't. I can't. Just go to sleep."
She brushes a hand through the wet fringe that frames his forehead, sliding through the wet locks, "You look delectable with your hair like this. I have to admit though, seeing you racing to come save me. I was quite smitten."
Pride unfurls in his chest.
Then she steals his breath.
The kiss isn't sudden or spontaneous, she smiles at him, a gorgeous smile that transforms her face from pretty to breathtaking, before she becomes to lean down, her eyes locked on his lips leaving no need for speculation. Her intentions couldn’t be clearer.
He has ample time to move, reject her once again and only allow himself to have her in small manageable doses. Being around her is far more addicting than any drug.
He is too weak to follow through.
The kiss is soft, softer than he expected from someone as unrestrained as her. Her hands are gentle on his face, caressing his cheeks as she presses her insistent lips into his. The kiss is nothing like he expected and thus it is perfect.
Just a kiss. He'll allow only one kiss. That should be enough to sate his hunger for her.
She starts to deepen the kiss, tongue poking at the tight seal of his mouth impatiently, then her fingers trail under his now slightly damp shirt, nails raking at the muscle that lays hidden, his mouth falls open at the new sensation. Wasting no time she licks into his mouth, moaning when she finally gets a taste of him. He suppresses an answering groan, light-headed as she overwhelms his sense, her scent and her taste coiling around him in an impenetrable wall.
He losses himself in the kiss, riding the high of finally tasting that mouth that has tormented him for too long. Letting her tongue swirl in his mouth, sinuously dancing with his own, until his lungs are burning .
When she begins to push his shirt further up his torso, baring his stomach, he jumps away from her touch and ultimately breaking their wet connection. Grabbing her wrists in his own shaking hands, he halts her movement, taking a deep measured breath.
"That's enough. I.... can't."
His control shudders at the sight of her above him, her eyes begin to slide open slowly as she falls back to earth, the passion that pours out from those eyes is enough to knock him off his high horse, her lips are kiss swollen and rosy wet, teasing him, tempting him. Her face is flushed as she pants, minty breath landing on his face with every exhale.
"Aren't you tired?" The tone of her voice is exasperated, at his bewildered expression she continues, "Of lying to yourself? Doesn't it get tiring never getting what you want?"
You're just a kid who wants to be loved.
I know you want to have fun.
She's the only one able to see right through him, reading him like he's an open book with pictures and startling him with her apt analysis, another reason he knows he should stay away from her, she will be his undoing, untimely demise.
"You want this. Tell me otherwise." She demands.
He wills his mouth to open and do what she says, deny his desires and sever this moment, the glint in her eyes informs him that this will be her final request, answer wisely.
He lays frozen, words lost in the jumble of his mind. Moving too fast for him to pluck them out and form a coherent sentence. Then she begins to move away, taking her delicious heat with her and his hand flies out instinctively, grabbing her towel covered waist his brain screaming no.
She stills, narrowed slits glaring down at him. Reading him again. Searching his face before she nods, "Okay. I'll take that control."
Slithering up his body, she catches his lips in another toe curling kiss, harder than before, all tongue and teeth, biting at his lip and demanding entry, he rushes to give it to her, weak at her passionate onslaught. This time he kisses back, wraps his tongue around hers and sucks, drunk on her flavor and ignoring the voice in his head that demands that he stop.
He feels her hands traveling up his chest, brushing on his nipples, before running up his arm and settling on his wrists, she lowers all her weight on him, knocking a shuddering breath from his overexerted lungs. The soft press of clothed breasts on his chest throwing his thoughts off kilter. In a flurry of movement, he feels her tug his wrist with both of her hands, something fuzzy curls around immobilizing him as his eyes snap open.
He pulls and meets resistance.
She draws away from him to watch his reaction, both of their eyes fixated on his wrist. He peers into the ceiling unable to look fully above his head and his pupils dilate as he sees what he already knew, felt on his skin.
Handcuffed.
Just as she promised she'd taken away his control.
A moan escapes his lips. She squirms in response to the sultry sound.
"I found something else when you were gone." She leans to the side of the bed, bending at the waist to retrieve something, rocking into his erection with the motion and he bites his tongue to contain his moan.
With an all knowing grin, she sits up grinding down into his hard length, throwing her head back, long hair whipping over her shoulder, wild and free.
He almost spills from that image, alone.
"Look." She offers what resembles a tiny remote with a cord connected to the bed, light vibrations start to buzz through the surface of the bed as she twists the dial.
The bed trembles and shakes beneath them rocking them along with the waves of vibrations.
"What are you going to do to me?" He whispers, fear and anticipation fighting for domination.
With a shark like grin she replies, "Take you apart and put you back together."
Immediately she sets off on her mission, openly appreciating his body, tongue dragging across her lips as she takes in the alluring vision of him at her mercy. He watches utterly captivated as she runs her hands up her own body, briefly pausing to mold her hands around her breasts, squeezing them and moaning deeply.
His mouth is arid dry, tongue turning to sandpaper at the seductive picture.
Then she tugs at the seal of the towel, loosening its hold, one strong pull is all that is necessary to have it tumbling off her body and cascading to the bed, baring every inch of her body to his ravenous eyes that dart from the soft swell of breasts down to the smooth mound of her naked sex.
Again, she takes herself in hand, pinching at her dark pebbled nipples, groaning at the pain before comforting herself with a gentle swipe of her thumb. His free hand cries out to join her in this endeavor.
"Touch me." Before the words have even settled in the air, she's capturing his free hand and bringing it to her chest, soft, hot, fuck, the only words left in his vocabulary as his hand becomes full of her. After a moment's hesitation, he squeezes the soft flesh in his hands, eyes locked on the tight furl of her nipple. His touch his soft, revered.
In absolute disbelief at the precious gift is he being given.
"Harder." His hand responds to her cry, tightening his hold and viciously tweaking her peak, eyes darkening at the way she rolls along his body, smearing her wetness across the plane of his stomach. He can feel her heady warmth sizzling on his skin, fingers longing to run through the drenched folds and tease her hidden jewel.
"Watch me." He falters at her words, grabbing her waist when she starts to slide off his body, wordlessly begging her to stay. She pushes his hand away smiling at his worry and dismay, laying flat on her back next to him, "Look at me." When he twists his head, wincing at the twinge from the pull of the hard metal on his wrist, he finds her eyes averted to the ceiling, he meets her eyes there.
Entranced as she slowly brings a finger to her mouth, lips wrapping around the digit, she opens her mouth showing him the way her tongue laps and soaks it, before pulling it out with a filthy wet pop. The finger trails down her body, pinching her nipples but their journey continues until they reach her center. He watches her reflection dazed as she uses two fingers to spread her lips open, bringing her feet flat on the bed to give him an optimal view. His heart beat skyrockets pounding in his chest as all the blood rushes to his cock.
With a deep seated moan, she takes two fingers and plunges into her wet center, her puffy lips giving away to the press, widening at the invasion. She shoves in until her fingers disappear into the depth, before dragging them out and fucking back deeply, her voice slices through the white noise sloshing in his brain.
"Gang-tae, I need you."
She fingers herself, in, out, in, out, eyes screwed shut from her pleasure.
He smacks her hand out of the way, control all but decimated, mashed to smithereens,before rubbing across her wet folds her moan setting him on fire before he mimics her movement, showing two fingers into the tight grip of her pussy. His rigid erection jumps at the thought of taking its place, her wet heat wrapping around him.
The vibration of the bed bounces her on his fingers, knocking her back on to his digits every time he withdraws. She bodily rides his hand, "More, more, more." He presses a third finger in, forcing her walls open sighing as the flesh gives under the pressure.
Ramming into her he watches her face twists in pleasure in the mirror, his own lust blown eyes greeting him as he watches her. She grabs her breasts, squeezing them as his fingers plunge into her steadily and powerfully.
Grabbing the reins of his desire he presses a fourth finger into her, his thumb accidentally rubbing across her clit and the most beautiful sight plays out in the mirror. Mun-yeong twists violently on the bed, bucking away from his fingers but he chases her, shoving the fingers back in and purposely massaging at her observing as she falls over the edge, orgasmic screams drawn from her mouth.
Her juices drown his fingers as she quakes apart on the bed, his eyes drink in the sensual sight of her fluttering lips around his soaked fingers.
He slowly drills into her lax hole, lost in her heat before she grabs his wrist. She takes three deep breaths, naked chest rising and laying before she turns towards him, eyes dancing.
"You're a fast learner." He reddens under her open praise. "Your turn."
His turn? She answers his wordless question by crawling into his space, and he's momentarily blinded by her beauty. Her face and body a work of art, all clean lines and soft curves, petite and tight. Her hand tugging at his pants drag him away from his musings.
"What are you doing?"
"Shhhh no more talking unless you're saying my name, asking for more or moaning. I already told you what I'm doing tonight."
Taking you apart and putting you back together.
He shudders at her words and then at her daring fingers, tugging his now unbuttoned and unzipped pants off his hip. The cold air slams into his overheated erection, doing nothing to change its stiffness or ardor.
"Beautiful." Dismissing his blush, she grabs him through the soft stretch of his boxers, stroking teasingly from root to tip. Watching a dark stain form at the tip as she massages the head.
She strokes him through the cloth a few more times, avidly tracking his face, "So handsome." She whispers it under her breath, clearly not intended for his ears and he heats up at the open awe in her voice.
Nothing could prepare him for the pleasure that overwhelms him when she extracts his length from its clothed prison. It stands at attention, thick and veiny in her hand, clear fluid pooling at the red tip and spilling down the sides.
The beds vibrations pushes his erection into her grip and he groans twisting his hips up, desperate for her touch. "I got you." The promise laced in her words cause his eyes to water, he's usually the protector no one has ever supported him, he rapidly blinks the tears away shame faced.
She misses his emotional riposte, her eyes locked on his erection jutting out and almost too thick for her hand to circumvent fully.
Using both hands she strokes him, using the leaking fluid from gathering on his cock to ease her journey, he pants in response, "Please." His pleads fall from his lips, desperation annihilating any reservations that lingered, he's completely on board now watching her burst apart from his fingers ripping the last tendrils of control from his grasp.
She doesn't leave him wanting, eagerly bending her head to pop the tip of his erection into her mouth, lips curling around the tip and swallowing the liquid pooled there.
His toes curl as she hums at the first taste of him on her tongue, vibrations hitting him from both ends now, the bed and her mouth. His head spins from the new sensations, he has never felt anything like this, scarcely even finding comfort in his own hands. Hard to find moments alone while sharing a space with his brother.
She sucks him in ever deeper, his hand slams on the bed, handcuff forcing his body to pull taut as he tries to prevent himself from thrusting into her mouth. It's a fruitless battle, she slurps and bobs on his cock, dismantling him down to a molecular level. Every atom of his body is screaming her name, he doesn't notice when it falls from his tongue, "Ughhh Mun-yeong!"
His cries emboldens her, she loosens her mouth sinking the rest of the length down his erection until her lips are flush against the root. His eyes slam shut, spots bursting behind his closed eyelids, he thrusts up powerfully his cock slipping down her throat and euphoria batters at his brain.
He's powerless as he bursts apart, release shooting into her waiting mouth, expecting her to pull off he's further deconstructed as she happily hums, swallowing each drop as it explodes in her mouth.
The tight suction of her mouth is too much following his release and he weakly tries to pull free, his cock slides out of her mouth, with a final suck of his tip she lets him fall from her mouth.
"Delicious."
Her voice is raspy and rough, the tone causes his dick to twitch feebly.
He feels fatigue begin to form after his earth shaking orgasm, his first with someone else. His eyes drift close as he falls into a deep slumber. He's vaguely cognizant of a wet material wiping across his skin and a blanket being tugged over his now chilled body.
"Rest for now."
He obeys, sleeping finding him easily.
********************************************
She watches him sleep, peaceful for once, all the worries missing from his handsome face. Her body tingles in memory of what they've done. His fingers in her most intimate places, his cum thick and hot on her tongue, his salty flavor still lingering on her tongue. His orgasm had surprised her but it was a pleasant surprise, she had greedily taken everything he had to offer, hungry for more.
His flaccid cock lays innocently on his thigh now, taunting her, it had been anything but innocent plundering her mouth earlier. She's been watching him sleep for a few minutes, a boom of thunder waking her from her slumber and she'd been unable to fall back into the sandman's clutches.
Instead she watched him sleep, taking in every delicious inch of his body, that gorgeous face with a chiseled jaw and wide inviting lips, his hair curled beautifully from the rain, the wide berth of his shoulders and the solid stretch of his chest which tampers into his narrow waist that is all set atop long thick thighs and legs.
His dick twitches and she glances up to see if he's awake, his eyes are moving rapidly beneath his closed lids, in the throes of a dream it appears.
"Must be a good dream." She ponders as his erection swells under her watchful gaze.
He thrusts up, handcuffs clanging at his sudden movement, as he starts to pump into the air. His lips falling open as he moans incoherently before she hears something that causes her to moisten, "Mun-yeong..."
He's dreaming of her. From the movement of his hips, it's apparent what fantasy he is living out, she shifts next to him, prepared to make it a reality.
Glancing up at the mirror, she ponders her next move before looking at him fucking the air and reaching a decision. She crawls over him, legs straddling his thighs her back to his front, her breasts jiggling in her reflection.
She grinds down onto his upward thrust, his tip catching on her moist folds, hands on his chest she presses back harder, letting his cock run through her wetness, moaning as the head rubs against her hidden bead.
She hears the moment he snaps back into reality, his hand immediately grabbing at her waist, she looks up into the mirror smiling at his glossy eyes that burn a hole in her face.
Before he can ask her asinine questions as he's wont to do, she reaches behind herself, firmly gripping his cock and leans her back onto his shoulder, he watches the stretch of her body as she puts herself on display for his pleasure.
With steady hands, she guides him to her opening, he can see everything in the reflection, her folds glistening as she presses the head in, his eyes slam shut at the feeling.
"Open your eyes. I want you to watch."
Her voice leaves no room for argument. He has no desire to.
He watches as his cock slowly disappears into her wet hole inch by inch, all of the air in his body suspended, she widens her stance as the fattest part of his length pulls at her walls before he feels her loosen and sink onto him, fully. He is drowning in the vision of his cock spearing into her tight heat, he might never breathe again.
The tightest vice around his length, borderline painful.
The continuous vibrations from the bed mildly rocks him into her, but after a pause she draws off, only the tip remaining before slamming back down onto him, the dual sensation of simultaneously watching her sink onto him and feeling her overloads his sense.
She rides him languidly, hips gyrating in dizzying circles as she undulates on his length, his arm shoots out to wrap across her flat stomach, pressing her incredibly closer to him, his abs rubbing against her back. Her back curves into his hold as she plants her feet harder into the bed, her hole spread wide as he pistons into her. Vivid obscene images reflected by the mirror, he can't look away.
He blindly finds her breasts, squeezing and groping at them in turns, pulling and pinching at the taut nipples.
"Gang-tae, harder, deeper." She demands, he rams up into her, length drilling into her spread hole, sinking deeper and deeper, slamming into her so hard that the echoes of his hips meeting her ass cheeks bounce off the walls.
"I'm too close.." He warns her, visages of his dream still plaguing his thoughts, he'd been lost in a fantasy, one of many wet dreams featuring the temptress wild in his arms. They'd been brutally fucking in the rain, cold raindrops sizzling off their skin as he pushed her over the handle of the bike and slammed into her over and over again. Her cries lost under the booming thunder that roared in the skies.
Pleasure beyond his knowledge had dragged him from that scintillating dream, only to be met by an equally enticing reality.
He woke up already on the edge, unprepared for her attack.
She begins to grind faster, reaching one hand down into the hidden depths of her center, rubbing at her clit in perfect synchronization with the motion of their fucking.
Grabbing her impossibly tighter he shoves up, pushing his cock as deep as it can go, her cries music to his ears, as he slams in out in out in out. Her walls clench around him, her fingers a flurry of rapid movement on her bead, he never slows down, driving deeper and faster, until wetness gushes out of her and coats him, her body bows tight into his hold.
For the second time tonight, his brain oozes out of his dick. Hot load exploding into her depth as his eyes finally leave the mirror and screw close as he rides the wave of his second orgasm. Unable to fight it with her walls squeezing him and demanding that he fill them, fill her up with his cum.
She collapses onto his body, milking the last drops of his release.
With a deep shuddering breath, she pulls off his softening length, rolling to her side of the bed, pushing her hair out of her eyes, resembling a siren luring men to their doom.
"Wow."
He agrees, holy fuck wow.
Their eyes meet again in the mirror.
"You like watching." It's not a question so he doesn't deign it with a reply. They'd both seen first hand just how much he enjoyed watching.
"Aren't you full of surprises." She preens, slipping from the bed, comfortable in her nudity. His eyes follow her every movement, he could look at her forever.
She disappears for a moment after the flush of a toilet, reappearing with another wet towel, carefully cleaning him once more. It feels oddly intimate despite all they've done tonight, the lines between lust and affection blurring.
He attempts to turn onto his side before remembering the constraint on his wrist, he pulls at it before glancing at her.
"Take these off."
She blinks at him, "Oh. I didn't see a key."
He blinks owlishly in return, "What? You put this on before finding a key!" Voice raising an octave at the tail end of his question, disbelief furrowing his brows and dragging his lips into a hard line.
"I had to. You wouldn't have given in otherwise. It's your fault, you're too stubborn." She scoffs folding her arms defiantly, he tries his damnest not to ogle her naked breasts that are pushed up with the motion.
He fails spectacularly.
"I guess I could go to the front desk and ask for a spare key."
He thinks of her white dress, now transparent from the rain and then her standing in that little towel. Those are the only things she could wear to the front desk and the thought of her walking around in either of those options makes his blood boil. Especially remembering that piece of scum who had tried to assault her.
"No."
"Why not?" She stares at him in confusion.
"I said no." He doesn't elaborate, avoiding eye contact.
With a shrug she cuddles into his side, naked body warm against him.
"Okay I'll keep you locked up like my love slave. " He tries to glare at her but he can't muster up the energy, exhausted, shuffling until he finds a comfortable position with his arm locked over his head, it's not an easy feat but eventually he finds a spot.
Their eyes drift close, exertion catching up with them.
Rain pattering away on the window, thunder rumbling in the distance.
He feels movement next to his head and then a soft press against his lip, fleeting and gone as quickly as it came.
His heart stutters at the implications. He tries not to think, fearing the storm that is brewing between them.
Sleeps finds him unarmed, taking him to a land where they can be together. He dreads the morning knowing he'll have to push her away, erect the fortress that surrounds his heart once more.
He doesn't have the time or luxury to have what he wants.
Moonlight streams in through the window, illuminating the key that lies innocuously on the floor, hidden under their discarded clothes. 
#its okay to not be okay#its okay to not be okay fic#psycho but it's okay#moon gang tae#ko mun yeong#motel smut#mirror sex#handcuffs#a dash of feelings too#hopefully it was worth the wait
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In this world there is always two type of guys. An Alpha and a Beta. My name is Jimmy and I’m a beta. This is what I look like:
I have this friend, well sort of, we are roommates. His name is Alaric, Our lives are both miserable, but while I have normal people problems like having trouble loosing weight, having low self esteem, can’t get a girlfriend, have a low paying job which led to difficulties paying the bills, and I have no social life (because I spend to much time playing video games). My roommates have Alpha problems, like how to snatched away the company that his big brother has inherit from their father, how to destroy his competitions in his work field, and how to create his own personal brand in his social media account and gain more followers, which in all honesty he already have plenty of. Oooohhhh and he looks like this:
The only reasons that I said that we are sort of friends its because, it’s true that Alaric and I are roommate, and sometime we talked to each other, during dinner while watching televisions, (right before I go back to my video games). It’s because we couldn’t be anymore different from each other. I’m a nerd and he’s a jock. I came from a lower middle class family, and he’s an old money rich. I have confidence issue and he has to much confidence. I am a follower and he is a natural born leader. I am a good person and Alaric is well Evil. He doesn’t bully me or anything but the thing that he told me especially about the stuff that he do to the people that he hates is extremely shocking and twisted. This guy has everything that he needs and yet his heart is full of nothing but hatred and envy! His minds are full of plots and evil schemes. So one time I took it upon myself, (because I’m a good person), to decide to become an Alpha for once and teach Alaric a lesson! A moral lesson! I snooped around his bedroom, when he’s not at home and I open his laptop. In there I found a file that are filled with his evil plans to take down his big brother and snatched away their father’s company from him. Since I’m a good person, and I’m learning to become more of an Alpha for once, I took the initiative to delete this file. I hope that this action will give him a signal to stop what he’s doing. After I delete this file that are full of his evil plots and schemes towards his perfect older big brother, I also found his other files that are filled with his collections of videos, but not just any videos. His porn videos collection, his forced role play porn videos collections. Not a BDSM videos, but a role play of a beautiful women getting forced to have a sexual intercourse by a guy that almost looks like him, big, strong, tall and has the power to dominate any women that he likes. I feel so disgusted by it, that I decided to deleted this file to, straight away. After he came back, I heard a loud manly scream from his room and when I checked it out, it was Alaric trying to find a file about his plan to destroy his big brother. He asked me where his file has gone, but I replied that I don’t know. He then checked the webcam that he has install in his room (which I am not aware off btw) and saw me deleting everything. He confronted me about this behavior and ask me why would I do such a thing. He thought we were friends. I have no choice but to come clean to him and explained that the reason for me to do this, it’s because I want to teach him a lesson. A moral lesson, about not hurting other people and accept our fate no matter what, without hurting anybody else. He then give me the most evilest glare that I ever seen him in.
And he said, “I trusted you and you have betrayed me! I never hurt you before because I thought we were both at the same side, but apparently, you think that you are better than me, well at least morally anyway. In fact you think you’re better than me so much that you decided to jeopardize my plan for my future and the future of my father’s company and for what? To teach me some big moral lesson? You know what, I will consider you my enemy now, and I will show you what I will do to my enemy especially the one that I think is my equal!” He then packs his bags and left the apartment right away. I was relieved, I thought for a moment there that he’s going to beat me to a pulp and put me in a hospital, but thank God that he doesn’t. Perhaps he was just bluffing, but what does it mean when he said that he consider me as his enemy, that are also his equal. I don’t understand. A couple of months later I have to move out from the apartment that I’m in because someone just bought the ownership of this building and now they want to bulldoze it and turn it into a Mall. Sucks to be me. I have no choice than to go back to my mother’s house and move in back with her. My mother is a very beautiful woman and very faithful to my father, after my father has died. She has never married again. Prim and proper and very religious, she’s always been a very caring woman. This time however I noticed that she has changed:
She dressed in a very sexy way, and there is a certain allure that she has now, that is sort of making me feel uncomfortable, especially as a son. I asked her “Mom, what has changed” and she said “What do you mean?” I asked her again “Why do you dress very sexy now?” And she said “Oooohhh I’m just very anxious for you to meet my new lover that’s all...” I was shocked when I heard her say the ‘L’ word. I thought she’s going to be loyal to my Dad until she passed away. I asked her immediately who is her new Lover, and how many lovers has she had in the past, and she said “Oooohhh calm down honey, this is the first lover that I ever had after your Dad has passed away, he’s very sweet, he’s always helping me around the house when I’m alone! In fact he’s here right now. Would you like to meet him?” I said “Yes”, and a couple of minutes later I heard a familiar voice saying “Hello Son!” And guess who showed up.
It was Alaric. I freaked out and I get angry. I wanted to attack him but he’s stronger than me. My Mom started to try and stop me and asked me what has gotten into me, and I told her everything, about the apartment, the files, the threats everything! My Mom asked him if this is true of which he deny everything. He said that he had never met me once in his life. At that moment, I just realized something, I have no proof to back my claimed up. I don’t even have any social media, to stalked him to. I only know that he has a lot of followers because he has showed me his social media account once. My Mom said maybe the reason why I’m so angry it’s because I haven’t gotten to know him very well, so she decided to give us some quality alone time together. When my Mom leave the room, Alaric started to smirk at me, and said “So what do you think? I told you that I will start treating you like the enemy that I consider equal!” I replied “Alaric please this has come to far, you have to leave my Mother alone! She’s innocent! This is between you and me!” He said “I don’t give a shit! I will destroy everything that you love and you hold dear, just like you did to me, and I will teach you about some big moral lesson about life, and you will start thanking me for it! You even have to start calling me Daddy!” I asked him again “Wait what do you mean? What do you mean that I have to start calling you Daddy?” He said “Your mom and I has gotten engaged!” I replied “Wait What? What do you mean? How? When?” He then smirked again and said “a couple of days ago, it took me a while to seduce her, but she finally gives in. It’s seems that after your Father has died and you have moved out from her house, she has become very lonely. I just have to fucked her once and showed her what she has been missing with, and she couldn’t say no to me ever since!” I asked him “Wait What? You did what?” In which he replied “Yeah you heard me. I fucked your mom! It was the Greatest Fuck that she ever had, she even said that I’m a better fuck than her late husband! Your Father! We Fucked, and we fucked, and we fucked. Sometime we fucked without condom, and I cream pied her a couple of times and we recorded it! We also did that role playing thing that you hate so much from my Laptop. Where she pretend to be this weak innocent woman and I came in to her house and have my way with her and there is nothing she can do to stop me! Yeah we did that!” At this point I don’t know what to say anymore. He then continued by saying “If you ever try to do something funny again to me, and jeopardize my plan for my future, I will post your mom videos to the internet and the world will know what a whore your mother really is!!! Peace out Brotha!!!
I was very angry at him, I tried to taught him a lesson, a good moral lesson in the past and this is how he repaid me. The next couple of days things has gotten really worse. Every night, I couldn’t stop hearing my mother’s voices moaning and groaning in her room while screaming Alaric name over and over again “Oh Alaric, That’s it! YOU are so good! Don’t Stop, Don’t Stop!” She even can’t stop stroking his ego “Oooohhh Alaric you are such a Man! A Big Man!!! A Strong Man! You are much stronger than my first husband!”. I can’t believe she said that! These voices can last for hours and hours. I sometime wonder when will they finally get some sleep! Alaric then take his revenge a step further by starting to wear my father’s clothes and smoke his cigars!
My Mothers even allowed it. Everyday she can’t stop talking about how Alaric is going to be my Stepfather someday! A good Stepfather, even though, she knows that he’s about the same age as I am. I always get angry at her and I tried to talked him out of this, but he refused to listened. He just smirked and continue to do his thing. One time I get a text message from my mom’s phone saying that she needed me in the beach near the house and when I get over there well, guess what I found.
Alaric having his dick sucked at the beach by my mom, in public. No one was there but I guess he just wanted me to see how much control that he has over me and my mom! He texted me using my mom’s phone while he’s getting a blowjob from my mom at public places. Just so that I can see this thing. I can’t stand this anymore, I almost went crazy. I begged Alaric to stop punishing me because of what I did in the past, of which he replied to me“I only wanted to teach you a lesson!” And when I asked him what the lesson that he wanted to teach me, he simply replied with “Never try to teach an Alpha anything, especially about Life, cus he might schooled you on what real life really is!” And just like that I realized that I should never overstep my boundaries by teaching an Alpha anything.
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Equal Justice Under Law
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Prosecutor)
Requested? Yes - Are you still accepting requests? If you are can you do one where the reader is a prosecutor and working a case alongside intelligence. She gets in trouble and jay is the one to save her?
Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse and murder. Swearing, the usual cuss words.
A/N: Okay so this is HELLA long. I really meant for all my requests to be blurbs (i.e. short fics) so please note that future requests will probably be much shorter than this! I just got carried away on this one! 😅
Also I realise the anon asked for the reader to be working alongside Intelligence, but in mine she’s kinda taking over after the police case is done, which is what happens in the episodes of Chicago Justice most of the time so that’s what I had it my head - hope y’all still like it! I also tried to switch it up this time and write in past tense, which I realise is sooo not my thing because I kept instinctively writing stuff in present tense and then having to go back and change it lol Let me know if you have a preference one way or another because I’m very curious as to how people feel about this!
Up next? 3 more Jay x Reader requests to fill!
PS: Send me asks/messages/leave a note if you liked this and want to see more!
You sighed, dropping your face in your hands. Some days, you wished you hadn’t taken up the job as the Cook County Assistant State's Attorney. The late nights and high stress situations sucked, but more than that your job had a way of bringing to light the worst things about humanity.
Looking down at your desk, you ran your fingers across the scattered pictures. Amelia Langstrom, age 16. Pamela Park, age 18. Lacey McDonald, age 19. Julia Sanderson, age 15. Maggie Thane, age 16. Every photo of the girls, smiling at the camera, came with another one. This other photo wasn’t as well-lit, as happy, as pretty. It was an emotionless, clinical photo taken of their naked bodies, covered with injuries and bruises and cuts, surrounded by leaves or trash depending on where they were dumped.
It was an awful, awful thing. 5 young girls, all missing for over a week before their bodies were found. All with signs of sexual assault, yet no DNA left behind to trace back to the killer. All of this, by itself, would be enough to turn your stomach over. Which it did, but above that, watching your boyfriend come home every night with his head down, shoulders sagging, looking completely distressed as he and his team were no closer to finding the perpetrator of these crimes…it was terrible.
“You guys will get him. I know you will, Jay.” You said, brushing his dark brown hair out of his eyes as the two of you laid in bed together. Your boyfriend’s green eyes, usually bright and full of life, were dark and distant in a way you hadn’t seen in a long time.
“How many more girls does he have to kill before we find him?” Jay whispered, not even looking at you, as his frown - one that seemed to have made itself at home in his forehead over the last two weeks - deepened.
It was a week later when Anna Valdez, your second chair, knocked on your door. Her face was dark, and her lips were tight.
“Another girl?” You asked, your voice cracking.
Anna shook her head. “Intelligence got the guy.” She replied, still looking troubled.
You frowned, tilting your head at her. She paused, crossing her arms across her chest, trying to shrink herself. Like as if she didn’t want to say the next words. You stood up, now beginning to fear what was coming.
“What is it?”
Anna swallowed. “They’re saying he confessed.”
***
“Jay - ”
“You don’t believe me?! Seriously?!” Jay’s eyes were wide with outrage on the other side of your desk.
“It’s not about whether I believe you! It’s about - ” You lowered your voice, remembering that there were many, many people who were working right outside your office. “ - it’s about the fact that Voight is saying this guy confessed. Hank Voight. He’s not exactly a shrinking violet. And all this on top of the fact that - ”
Jay opened his mouth to cut in, but you silenced him with a raised hand and bulldozed onward.
“ - On top of the fact that there just so happened to be no one else in the room with Voight when Dylan Rhodes confessed? Hmm? And it happened in a - in a cage that’s in basement of your district? No cameras, no audio, no video?” You glared at Jay, barely hiding the seething rage that was boiling under your skin. You leaned across the desk, shoulders tight, voice now raised without a care about what anyone outside was going to hear. “Not to mention he’s got cuts and bruises all over his face from ‘resisting arrest’ even though he’s a 20 year old who’s maybe 120 pounds soaking wet and there were seven of you cops, all armed with guns when you went to arrest him!” You yelled, flinging several of Dylan Rhodes’ mugshots across the table, some of them flying all the way over to hit Jay’s body and land at his feet.
There was nothing in the air but the soft whirring of the ceiling fan, and the squeaking of wheels as you dropped back into your chair, exhausted.
Jay called your name, his voice different now - softer and sweeter. You tried not to look at him, tried to let him know just how angry you were…but you weren’t angry at him. Not really. You were angry at the man he worked for. When your eyes connected back with Jay’s, you could see that he knew that. He placed his palms on your desk and leaned towards you.
“You know that I have issues with Hank sometimes, with the way he does things. You know that. But Y/N, you gotta believe me on this one. I looked in that kid’s eyes. I know he did this.” Jay whispered, and you ducked your head, letting your vision graze over the one remaining photo of Dylan Rhodes on your desk.
You just sighed. Looking back up at him, you shook your head.
“It’s not about him, Jay. I know he did it too, I can feel it. But if I’m putting him away, it needs to happen the right way.” You offered, your voice almost didactic.
Jay’s jaw clenched. “Needs to happen the right way, or not at all?” He straightened, pulling away from you. The look he was giving you was one that you could only describe as fervent disapproval. Like he hated what he was seeing in you.
You decided you were done with the argument. Leveling Jay with a cold, emotionless stare, you spoke.
“Yeah. Because there’s some of us who still believe in the law. Who choose to serve and protect in the right way.”
The words spilled out of your mouth so matter-of-factly that they became so harsh. Jay was speechless, and in the beat of silence that followed, you regretted your words.
Your door opened and you jumped, too absorbed in your tête-à-tête with Jay to even give notice to the outside world. Anna looked over you and Jay - who was staring at his feet, jaw tight - with concern in her eyes.
“What is it?” You asked Anna for the second time in a day, just as terrified as the first time.
“Defense counsel just filed a motion to suppress the confession.”
***
“Mr Howard, if you’re ready we can begin - ”
“Sorry to interrupt, your honour, but it won’t be necessary.” You announced, standing up in the courtroom. Everyone’s eyes were on you, even the court stenographer’s.
The judge raised his eyebrows.
“The People will not object to Mr Howard’s motion to suppress the defendant’s confession.” You said, and a flurry of excitement broke out in the gallery - reporters shouting questions, members of the public yelling, camera flashes going off.
“So,” Anna began, facing you as you stopped to grab a cup of water from a dispenser in the hallway. It’d taken about five whole minutes of gavel banging by the judge to settle everyone down, before she dismissed the session. “Your boyfriend and some of his coworkers are at the end of the hallway, and they keep shooting us looks but no one’s coming.”
You tipped the paper cup into your water, swallowing the ice cold water, flinching a little at the tingly sensation it left in your mouth.
“Do you want to go the other way, or do you want to go talk to them? To him?” Anna asked, softly. If anyone else had been saying it, you would’ve snapped at them to mind their own business. But it’s Anna - Anna, who from day one has been by your side, who’s practically made it her mission to be the person you count on.
You shot Anna a gentle smile, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m good. I’ll take the south exit. Meet you back at the office after lunch?” Anna nodded, trying but failing to hide the concern in her eyes.
Side-stepping her, you walked down the hallway, away from where Jay and the rest of Intelligence must be gathered. A part of you hoped, strangely, that he’d come after you, even though you knew that there was no way he wouldn’t be pissed at you. You’d been with him long enough to know how he operated. How he felt everything so intensely, how he was wired through the heart. Jay lived and died by his instincts and his emotions, and there was something to be said about the simplicity of it. The man was a soldier, and maybe in war you didn’t have the time to think about procedure and precedent, about the sharp edges of red tape and the rules and regulations in a bureaucracy. The cosmetic battles didn’t matter to him – he didn’t care what something seemed like, he cared what it was.
But you weren’t Jay. You loved him, but you were not him. You weren’t a soldier - you were a lawyer, and your battle was in the courtroom, not Afghanistan. And in the courtroom, almost just as much as what something was mattered, what it looked like mattered too.
Dylan Rhodes had to be brought to justice, yes. But it had to be done the right way, not by way of coerced or falsified confessions. Equal justice under law was what you swore to uphold, and damn Voight if he thought you couldn’t put Dylan away while doing your job the right way. And damn Jay too, then.
***
“So, how’s the case coming along?” Will Halstead asked, pouring maple syrup over his waffles.
You leaned against the red leather seats in the diner, in an example of truly terrible posture. Shrugging, you answered him: “You know I can’t really talk about that.”
Will scoffed, picking up a fork and knife. “I think you’re allowed to tell me how you’re doing.”
You raised at eyebrow at the doctor, a smile starting to creep onto your face. “But those aren’t the exact words you used, and you actually asked me something completely different - ”
Will threw his hands in the air: “Okay, we get it, you’re a lawyer and I shouldn’t argue with you.” He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and you laughed, leaning forward to swat at his arm.
“Really, though.” Will said eventually, and you just nodded. “I’m feeling good. I think I’ve got motive, and I think I can get him to snap if I put him on the stand.”
Will smiled wide. “Attagirl.”
As you sipped your coffee, you kept going over your question in your head, trying to find the best way to phrase it. But just like his brother, Will could practically read your mind.
“Jay’s…you know how he is.” Will said, in a gentle tone.
“Stubborn, adamant, refuses to think he’s wrong about anything, ever?” You shot back in a grouchy tone, and Will raised his eyebrows. “Wow, you just said the same thing three ways - you must be pretty pissed!” He commented dryly, and you glared at him. Chuckling, Will waved you off before leaning across the diner table. “Y/N, he knows he shouldn’t have pushed you the way he did. He knows that. And he’s sorry.”
“He can’t come say that to me? Send me a message, come by my office, come home? He’s still gotta crash on your couch?” You shook your head, struggling to contain the hurt in your voice.
Will shot you a sympathetic look. “You know us Halstead boys; it takes a little while before the mea culpa can come out of our mouths.”
You stirred the spoon in your coffee, watching the little bits of foam go round and round and round, before dragging your spoon across in the opposite direction. The foam still swirled around a few times before stopping. Too slow.
“My bed’s been empty for a week, Will. I miss him.”
Will didn’t say anything; the good doctor just slid over a piece of tissue, and that was when you realised you’d started crying.
***
“You’ve got this.” Anna whispered, as the defense attorney took his seat. The judge turned to you and called for you to make your closing argument.
This was usually your favourite part - getting to talk directly to the jury, showing them the facts of your case, walking them through every step of the process with all the detail in the world so that they could get to the conclusion that you knew to be true.
But today was different. You shoved your hands in your pockets to hide that they were shaking. And when you looked over your shoulder at the gallery, you couldn’t see Jay.
He’d never missed any of your closing arguments. Ever.
Until today.
“Ms Y/L/N? Can we begin?” The judge tossed a concerned look your way.
Your eyes landed on Dylan Rhodes, who was smirking at you like he’d won.
Smiling back, you calmly turned to the judge. “Let’s begin.”
Starting from Dylan’s teenage years, where he racked up countless misconduct records in high school for all sorts of problems, you traced the development of this man, this awful human being. You painted a portrait of him as needy, sad, and lonely, and connected that to his need to hurt and attack girls who were otherwise unattainable for him. As you spoke, you could see the jury process your words and go where you were taking them.
Dylan had, by this point, dropped the cocky smirk. Instead, his face was red, his jaw was clenched, and veins were popping in his neck. You knew you had him - you knew it was over.
“Members of the jury - I have just one final request to ask of you. Today, you have the opportunity to see that justice is served to a man who more than deserves it. A man - a boy, who decided that raping and killing girls was the only way he could live with himself, because that was the only way he could have these girls.” You paused, turning to look at Dylan, who was shaking with rage.
“A boy who decided to hurt girls to cover up the fact that he is so weak, and so pathetic.” You punctuated the tense air in the courtroom with words so sharp they felt like the final nail in Dylan Rhodes’ coffin.
There was a moment of bliss, you knew you’d done your job, you knew you’d brought the jury over, you knew you’d succeeded - but just as quickly as things came together, it all came crashing down.
It happened so quickly - Dylan roared, lunging over the table towards you. Everyone started screaming, and you froze in shock and in fear.
The bailiff intercepted Dylan on his way over to you and tackled him to the ground. It all seemed settled for a second, but they kept struggling on the ground, and all you saw was Dylan’s hands reaching around the bailiff’s and - and his fingers wrapping around - oh god -
“Gun!” Anna yelled, and the release of that one syllable was followed immediately by a gunshot. And then another.
***
“You gonna talk to Y/N? She’s closing the Rhodes case today, you know?” Hailey Upton asked, lifting her feet up to place them on the dashboard of the GMC Sierra.
Jay shrugged, fiddling with the radio in his hand.
“This is the part where you use your words.” Hailey remarked in a slightly sarcastic tone, smiling and Jay just shot her a look. Reaching over, he shoved her feet off the dash petulantly, and Hailey laughed.
Moments later, she turned back, cheek pressing against the headrest of her seat. “Jay.” She said, her tone gentle but still a little pushy. It was what he needed then, and she knew it. The last few days had been tough on him - he hadn’t talked to her about it, other than updating her that he was staying over at Will’s, but his entire demeanour was off - he’d been down and depressed.
Jay shrugged again, frowning. “I don’t know what to say. I screwed up, and I know it and she knows it and - I don’t know. I’m starting to think…” Jay ducked his head, eyes scanning his fingers as they traced the outlines of his radio. “…starting to think maybe she can do better than me, you know?” When he finished, his voice was much lower, much softer than it was when he began.
“Oh, she can definitely do better than you.” Hailey grinned, her dimples showing and Jay just reached across, punching her shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Hailey chuckles, before turning to face her partner again.
“Seriously though, I’ve seen the way she looks at you - that girl is one hundred percent in love with you.”
Jay’s heart felt full hearing that, and he knew it to be true, too.
“So get your shit together, stop sleeping on your brother’s couch, go back to her and apologise for being an idiot.” Hailey advised. Before Jay could say anything, his radio went off.
“10-1, 10-1, shots fired at the Third Municipal District, hall 5! Dispatch, get Intelligence on the scene now!”
“Isn’t that where - ” Hailey started to ask, frowning. She didn’t have to finish her question, because she got her answer when Jay, who suddenly went as pale as a ghost, turned on the lights and sirens and floored it.
***
“Dylan…just - think about this, okay?”
Your hands were out in front of you, shaking.
Dylan Rhodes was about 10 feet from you, with a gun in his hand. The gallery had cleared out and the people on the jury had managed to escape to their deliberation room, separated from the courtroom with a thick wooden door. The only people who were left with you and Dylan were the judge, Anna and Mr Howard.
Your eyes flickered down to where the bailiff laid in a pool of his own blood. Dylan had fired two shots straight through the bailiff’s chest. You didn’t need to be trained in medicine like your boyfriend’s brother to know that the bailiff was dead.
You’d said hi to him once, in an elevator. He’d smiled back, and asked you how your day was.
You can’t remember what you told him.
“You’re scared now, aren’t you?” Dylan asked, and you snapped back to him. He had a deranged smile on his face.
“Dylan, please, it doesn’t have to be like this - ” You started speaking, but the judge - Judge Kinnaman - cut you off.
“Son, I swear if you don’t drop that gun now, you will never see the light of day. I will personally ensure that.” Judge Kinnaman’s voice resounded in the empty courtroom with authority. Dylan turned to him, gun following his line of sight.
“Fuck you.” Dylan punctuated his words with a squeeze of the trigger. Anna screamed, and you heard a loud thump. When you turned over your shoulder, you couldn’t see Judge Kinnaman at his seat behind the counter anymore - all you saw was blood splatter on his chair and the wood behind him.
The numbness you’d felt until this point suddenly gave way to waves upon waves of fear. It felt like a chill going down your spine - your body was cold, your mind was racing, and you were absolutely terrified.
“Dylan - Dylan, listen to me.” Jon Howard, the defense attorney, spoke softly from the defense table. “Just - just put the gun down, okay?”
Dylan’s eyes practically went red with rage. “You - you fucking…you’re useless, you’re pathetic, you know that?” Dylan swings back around, yelling at you and Anna. “He asked me to make a deal! A deal! What kind of a shitty lawyer gives up before he even tries to win, huh?!” He yelled at Jon, spit flying out of his mouth. Jon flinched, leaning back as Dylan moved closer to him.
Suddenly, a voice on loudspeaker boomed from outside the closed doors of the courtroom.
“Dylan Rhodes! This is Jay Halstead of the Chicago Police Department. We have the courtroom surrounded!”
Your knees almost buckled as you heard Jay’s voice. Relief flooded your veins, but you were still scared as you watched Dylan suddenly turn around, eyes wide.
“We do not want you or anyone in there to get hurt, okay? Just let the people in there come out, and I swear I will help you.” Jay finished, and Dylan just grabbed his head in his hands.
“No, no, no, no!” Dylan whispered to himself, tears springing out of his eyes. You turned to Anna, both of you equally terrified. Suddenly, Dylan raised his head, almost like a lion that had suddenly spotted a gazelle over the lines of grass.
Dylan surged towards you. Screaming, you flattened yourself against the witness stand, but it was to no avail - Dylan’s left hand grabbed your throat, and he pulled you to him, turning you so that you were in front of him, his left forearm like a bar going across your neck. You felt the cool metal of the gun against your temple, and you gasped.
“I have a hostage! I’m coming out, and I want everyone to stand back!” Dylan barked, before walking you to the door. You were shaking against him, tears streaming down your face at this point. The pressure of the gun against your head seemed to be drilling into you. As you reached the door, and Dylan instructed you to open it, all you could think about was that at least you’d get to see Jay before you died today.
The door opened with a loud creak, and you were stunned to see so many fully uniformed police officers with assault rifles standing right outside. Per Dylan’s instructions, they were all standing back, but still it was absolutely terrifying seeing all those guns pointed at you.
Your eyes immediately found Jay, who had his head tilted, looking down the sight on his rifle but the moment Dylan had brought you out, he picked his head up. His mouth was open slightly, his eyes were wide and wet, and he looked to be completely distraught.
Seeing him finally after days apart…it made every argument you’d ever had feel so inconsequential. You were so full of love for him and the only thing you wanted to do was run, run to him and wrap your arms around him. Unable to do any of that, you just mouthed “I love you” as you tried to hold back sobs.
“I want a car, and - and I want a - a jet fueled at O’Hare!” Dylan shouted.
Jay just shook his head. “You need to let her go first, alright?”
Dylan tightened his hold on you. “I’m not a fucking idiot!”
“We know that, okay?” Hailey spoke up, from a few feet to the right of Jay. “We don’t think you’re an idiot. We just want to make sure you don’t do anything you don’t want to do.” She said, putting her rifle down. Raising her hands, she took a couple of steps towards Dylan, who at this point had completely turned to face her.
“No - no, I don’t want you to move! Just - just stay where you are!” Dylan snapped, his voice raging. Your heart was beating so loudly that you could almost hear it in your ears. Closing your eyes, you just prayed silently.
“I know you don’t want to hurt her. So let’s just make sure - ” Hailey spoke gently, but Dylan cut her off, laughing sharply.
“You stupid bitch! You’re all stupid bitches! Damn right I want to hurt her! This bitch - ” Dylan shouted, pulling in his forearm, the immense pressure against your neck strangling you, “ - called me pathetic! I’m gonna show her how fucking pathetic she is when I get her somewhere alone and I - ”
A loud bang goes off, and you jumped. Your eyes flew open just in time to feel Dylan sag against you, and you instinctively leaned out of the way so that he fell to the ground.
Arms wrapped around you, and your first reaction was to flinch, to scream, to turn with eyes wide, trying to claw away from whoever it is. But then you heard his voice.
“Baby! Baby - it’s me, it’s Jay!” Your boyfriend’s eyes were wide and teary. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, and he looked like he was in pain.
Everything clicked in your head.
“Jay,” You moaned, shaking fingers clutching his vest as you engulfed yourself in him. Jay’s arms wrapped around you tightly and you soaked in his scent, his warmth, his safety. Sobbing into his neck, you refused to let go, still not really believing this to be real. Jay didn’t say anything for a while and you weren’t sure why. But then you heard him crying into your hair, and you pulled back to see him. His eyes were wet, pooling with tears, and you immediately brought your hands up to hold his face. Jay leaned down as you got on your tip toes and you kissed, wet and soft and scared. Jay’s hands cradled your face, and when the two of you eventually split to breathe, you just looked up at him, speechless, shaking your head.
“I’m so sorry,” Jay whimpered.
“It’s okay. We’re okay. Just - just come home, please,” You begged, running your thumb over his jaw.
“Of course. Of course. I’m never leaving you like that again, okay? No matter what. Y/N, I love you so much. When he came out with you - I - I almost died right where I stood.” Jay told you as his face contorted into something painful. You pressed your lips to his again, quick and chaste. Pulling back, you smiled up at him.
“I love you too, Jay.”
The rest of the day was a mess - the cops moved Dylan’s body, as well as the bailiff’s and Judge Kinnaman’s, while paramedics cleared you medically. You flung yourself at Anna when they brought her out, swearing to her that you were okay and asking repeatedly if she was fine. The two of you held on to each other, crying, as Jay kept rubbing your back. In fact, he never left your side, not even for a second. After you were done giving your statement, Jay took you home, and the two of you got undressed and sat in a warm bath together for a while. You kept thinking at times that you were fine, but then you’d remember the feeling of the gun against your head, or the way the bailiff slumped over, and you started crying again. Jay brought his arms around you, pulling you to his chest and peppering your face with kisses as he soothed you.
At night, you curled into each other. The two of you drifted asleep, in the safety and warmth of your embrace.
***
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#jay halstead#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead x reader#will halstead#will halstead imagine#cpd imagine#chicago pd imagine#onechicago imagine#onechicago
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Revolution Theme, Part 4 - The Governor’s Episodes
What led me to wanting to rewatch the Gov’s episode was a discussion with @galadrieljones. She talked about Lenny from 4b being an anti-Daryl, and that sparked something for me. I totally agree about Len, but it made me remember that, a long time ago, I remembered that Mitch (guy who operated the tank for the Gov and helped bulldoze the prison) was also an anti-parallel to Daryl.
Now, back when I first realized that, I didn’t have anywhere to really go with it. I mean, we had the leader (Governor) pitted against Rick and his right-hand guy (Mitch) pitted against Daryl. Mitch operated the tank, which Daryl blew up. And then of course Daryl ends up shooting Mitch in the heart. The thing that first made me realize Mitch was a Daryl parallel was the fact that he had no sleeves, lol. I know that’s goofy, but I think it’s intentional.
Anyway, I hadn’t thought about it in a long time. And while we’ve talked about Gov parallels to Beth in these two episodes lots of times before (like the stigmata walker in the yellow wheelchair) it suddenly occurred to me that there’s probably a LOT more to it than that.
Recently, especially since the bonus episodes, I’ve been big on looking at entire sequences and multi-episode arcs from a broad, bird’s eye view because I think they’re templates for future story lines. (It’s totally Find Me’s fault. Lol.) Anyway, I just realized I hadn’t done THAT with the Gov’s episodes, and I probably should.
Long story short, I was right.
Long story long, here we go:
So we start by seeing the end of 3x16 again, right after the Gov kills all his own people and takes off with Martinez and that other guy whose name I don’t remember. He doesn’t show up again and Martinez says he pretty much gave up and got eaten by walkers.
(We’ll skip the discussion about how Karen was a Beth proxy at this part in 3x16, because she was left for dead and even pretended like she was. In other words, she played possum. Then she returned to Tyreese and eventually became romantically involved with him. But that’s beside the point, right? ;D)
Okay, so we see the Gov and the two guys at a camp site and a very Beth-ish walker stomps through his fire, trips, and starts burning before Martinez kills it. I’ve always thought that was a Beth hint, and I still do. I think it’s just the writers’ way of signaling that this is a Beth template for the future.
When the Gov wakes up, his guys have abandoned him and he’s alone in this bright yellow tent that stands out against the bleak landscape. (Yellow.)
Then he goes and burns Woodbury. I’ve always tried to connect that to Beth, particularly because of the Moonshine shack. But looking at it now, there’s just something else entirely going on here. Emotionally, I mean.
We know Bethyl burning the moonshine shack symbolized something positive. Letting go of their pasts and moving forward. When the Gov does this, you don’t get that vibe at all. It’s more bitter and resentful. He’s angry and grieving over losing his leadership, the town he built up, and his people. It almost feels like a “if I can’t have it no one can” sort of thing.
So, this is total conjecture on my part, but I feel like there will be a Beth parallel to this. Probably not quite as destructive, but I’ve always had a head canon that somehow, after waking up, she’ll end up at Terminus, find the riot gear and Daryl’s poncho, and assume they all died there. That may be where the bitterness and sadness will come from. Just my head canon, though.
After that, the Gov starts on his long, lone journey (another thing we’ve always theorized Beth would do). Oh, and the song that plays over this part, which I’ve always thought was very pretty, is called The Last Pale LIGHT in the WEST (emphasis mine). I think the Gov goes west when he leaves.
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Then we get voice overs, and this part is SUPER interesting and makes me very happy. We heard two women talking to the Gov about where he comes from and where he used to be. We now know those voices to be Tara and Lilly, but at this point in the episode, he hasn’t met them, yet. So, what’s interesting is that neither of them are named in the subtitles. They are just “woman.”
And where have we seen that lately? In 9x05, every voice (like Lori and Abraham, for example) was named, but Beth wasn’t. We immediately recognized her voice, but she wasn’t named in the subtitles as “Beth.” It just said “woman.” So, what does this mean? We wouldn’t have recognized Alanna’s voice yet at this point, unlike Emily’s, but we had yet to meet Tara yet. So, on a basic level, I think it shows that the unnamed “woman” will soon be a character on the show.
And why would they do that with Beth when, like Lori and Abe and the others, we’ve already met her? I think it’s probably in line with the theme about her being a different person when we see her again. In a good way. “Meet the new Beth Greene.”
The next important thing about this part is what is actually said. I’m paraphrasing here, but Tara and Lily ask where the Gov was before and he says something about having been in a town. Tara asks if the monsters were there. He says no. It was a good place, with walls. But “he” lost it. She asks, “who?” And he says, “the man in charge.” So clearly, he’s talking about himself in the third person, and Woodbury.
But.
If this is a Beth template, then Gov = Beth, right? We always wondered why they would use him, being evil and stuff, as a Beth proxy. But keep in mind that Gimple took over as official head honcho and completely reworked a reportedly terrible 3x16. They were basically done with the Woodbury/Gov storyline, and they needed a good sendoff for him. In a way, this was Gimple’s first Sirius arc. Someone who leaves, is presumed dead, but then comes back. We know Daryl (and Michonne) searched for him, but lost the trail (kinda like losing Beth’s body) and the Gov is even down one eye. Siriusly.
So, my point about the voice over is that everything said there could be applied to Rick, especially during the S4/S5. He lost it. He screwed up. Beth was left behind/separated from them.
Okay, now I’ll jump forward a little faster. For the rest of 4x06, there are really only two big things of note. 1) Tara and Lilly = two sisters who eventually lose their father. A foreshadow of the Greene family dynamic. And even though Tara’s father dies of natural causes (lung cancer), the Gov does end up bashing his face in to keep him from biting Tara. I think that was supposed to be kind of like him “killing” the dad, and therefore a foreshadow of him killing Hershel by taking his head.
The second thing, in terms of future Beth arcs, is that he lost everything, was left behind/abandoned by his people, went on a long journey, and eventually found people that he came to care about and protect. And I think the same will happen with Beth. In fact, it actually works in line with the Charleston template I laid out. Just a community of people she cares about and protects/takes care of.
And I’m sure some people will wonder about the fact that the Gov finds a love interest in Lilly, and if that will translate to Beth. Well, it’s possible. She might have had boyfriends over the years. We’ve discussed this. But it’s also important that her *true* love interest, Daryl, is already back with TF. And that wasn’t true of the Gov. He was never going to return to the prison and have some beautiful relationship with…anyone. The closest thing would have been Andrea, and she’d already died by this point.
There are, of course, small clues in 4x06 that I haven’t gone over, and of course I’ve skipped the rest home with the stigmata walker, because we know about that. But a few highlights: At one point, Tara says, “Ray Charles could have seen it” about their truck out front. Blindness mention. Lilly used to be a nurse, which ties to Grady. And she even talks about being bored, which is a direct link to Edwards being bored.
Pirate theme, of course. I do think Megan represents Beth, though perhaps not directly in the template. She wears a lot of pink and yellow, blond hair, etc. And I think she’s just another way to say that this template is about the blond girl who, apparently, dies.
We should also probably appreciate that the way the Gov’s arc ends (the situation in 4x08) is a prisoner exchange situation where a Greene dies, and both directly ties to and foreshadows Grady.
But let’s move on. The end of 4x06/beginning of 4x07 is where they fall into a pit and meet Martinez. Let’s be real. In the show they call it “the pit” and it’s just used to keep walkers from overrunning their camp, but it’s clearly a grave. So, we have the Gov and Beth—I mean Megan—falling into a grave with a bunch of walkers (death) but surviving and eventually getting out (resurrection). Side note: we also saw the Gov kill one of the walkers that went after Megan by ripping it’s jaw off. (Speak no evil.)
So, here’s where we get to talk about Mitch and Pete a little bit. And it’ll be fun. I promise. :D
Watching this with an eye toward them representing Daryl and Merle, a lot of the symbolism became a lot more obvious. Keep in mind that they’re anti-parallels, not parallels.
See, between the two, Pete, who actually represents Merle, is the more sweet, compassionate one. While Mitch is the more brutal one. But again, they’re anti-parallels, so in this case, Mitch, the brutal one, is Daryl’s antithesis and Pete, the kind one, is Merle’s.
In fact, the first time we meet them, Mitch doesn’t want to let the Gov’s group in because they already had too many mouths to feed, and Pete says, “come on, man. They have a kid.” Just reminded me a lot of Daryl’s “they had a baby” in 3x10 after saving the family on the bridge.
So, they come back to the camp and start living in a trailer. The Hole in the Roof theory is huge here. The roof of the trailer keeps leaking water and, I shit you not, it looks like it’s dripping from a bullet wound. So, clearly….
And while I stand by it being a symbol of Beth being shot in the head, I also think it represents toxicity of a sort. Things that are wrong and it’s just a matter of time before the crap hits the fan. That sort of thing.
Okay, obviously the most important part of this episode is when they go to the cabin, but let me mention a few things that happen along the way.
Mitch, Pete, Martinez, and the Gov go out looking for supplies for the camp. And they had a really interesting conversation that may give some insight into the spearfishing in Find Me.
They walk by the lake and the Gov asks if there are fish in the lake. They reply, no. The lake is totally dead. Mitch then adds that there are rabbits, skunks, and possums. Obviously, some symbolism in those animals. But it occurs to me that fish = life. Something they can eat, subsist and even thrive on. The lake is dead because there are no fish.
Now, clearly this is a foreshadow of the Gov killing Pete and putting him in the lake. And of the Gov already being kind of dead in his soul. And “dead water” might also foreshadow the poisoned water theme. Water that can cause death if you drink it.
But in thinking about Daryl’s reaction to both Leah and Carol finding fish in FM, it’s kind of interesting. Both times, he says, “no way,” and is pleasantly surprised that they caught the fish (life). So, I’m wondering if this is meant to be him being surprised that someone he thought was dead was really alive. And what if all the fish symbols we’ve seen represent life in some way?
Of course, it could also be that a mounted fish, like we saw near Dwight in S8 is technically a dead fish. So, it might have symbolized the death of his and Sherry’s relationship. Or that it would live again. I’m not sure how granular to make this. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Okay, so then they come upon a camp that seems to be doing well. Mitch wants to take all their supplies, but Pete refuses and they leave. Later, they come back to find the camp overrun, most of its people dead, and the supplies gone. Here, Mitch is just pissed that they didn’t take the supplies before someone else got them. (Very anti-Daryl.)
But I do think this points to some future arc. I don’t know for sure what it will be, but again, I think it works with the Charleston template. Like, Beth is in a community. She goes out looking for supplies, and when she comes back, the community has been knocked on its butt by the CRM. And this is one of those things that was never really acknowledged or explained in the show. Who killed off the camp? And why wasn’t anyone in the Gov’s group at all concerned that their camp might be next? Gotta be symbolism for sure. :D
Oh, and the Gov says it must have “just happened.” Just like Daryl said about the wolves and the girl on the tree in 5x15. And again, the wolves are very tangled up in the Native American symbolism.
Then there’s the cabin bit. Again, I’m not at all sure how this will fit into Beth’s arc, but I’m sure it foreshadows SOMEthing. So, we have two headless corpses, one of which says LIAR and the other that says RAPIST. And then a third that still has his head, but killed himself with a shotgun. He is, presumably, the guy who lived in the cabin and killed the first two, and he’s labeled himself MURDERER.
Now, on the one hand, all of these words describe the Governor. He says “Liar” just before taking Hershel’s head, which is what that first one points to. And it’s not too hard to figure out that he’s a murderer. We didn’t actually see him rape anyone in the show, but there were suggestions of it, especially as he attacked Michonne and manipulated Andrea. And I’m pretty sure in the comic books, he does actually rape Michonne. They just didn’t want that to be the case in the show. So, these do all work for his story line.
But I also think these may be things Beth encounters at some point in her arc. Maybe someone will lie to her (or even betray her, Lone Ranger-style) and she’ll have to take them out. We already saw her dealing with rape at Grady, and have long thought that it foreshadows a bigger, potential rape situation that she’ll have to deal with. You get the idea. So, it’s very vague and I don’t have any great inspirations about what these point to, but in general, I’m sure they’ll apply to her.
It's also important to note that all these guys are dressed in military clothing. So, we might be able to tie them to CRM, symbolically if not literally.
I didn’t find anything massive inside the cabin that we haven’t already discussed. You asked me to look for revolution/George Washington pictures, @wdway, and I didn’t notice any. I didn’t try overly hard to see every single picture in the background, but most of them looked too blurry to tell much detail anyway. The major one is of Abraham Lincoln, and I think that’s important. But I’ll come back to it.
Of course, we have all the Native American symbols in this cabin. So, here’s the thing. Because of Tonto in TLR, I feel like whoever the Native American symbolism points to, whatever group that is, good or bad, it represents the group that Beth found after she woke up/lived, who nursed her back to health. And the reason I say good or bad is because the Claimers do theoretically fall under this same symbol theme for Daryl. The first group of people he ran into after he lost Beth. After the big disaster.
And here, I think Martinez’s group works in that regard for the Governor. He wasn’t hurt badly but he was in need of help after falling into the pit. You could say the same of Daryl after losing Beth. He just needed people to pull him out of his slump.
Now, here’s the other thing I’m not entirely sure how to interpret, but it does lend credence to the idea of the guy who lived in the cabin, who took out the two headless corpses, being representative of Beth. Once they’ve cleaned the walkers out of the cabin and are all sitting down talking, the Gov finds a picture of the guy who lived their and his family. The guy’s left eye has been colored over with read. Like red pen or marker. But it’s clearly a Sirius symbol and the red looks like blood.
So, I thought about what must have happened in this cabin. I kind of thing it might have been sort of like what happened with Abraham’s family. We were told after 5x05 that he killed the people who were actually part of his group. People he trusted. That’s because while he was out on a supply run, they raped his family. They just couldn’t show that in the show.
So, for the cabin guy, taking out a rapist and liar who might have harmed his family is straight forward enough. But why would he kill himself if his family still lived? And the Gov’s group found them as walkers in the house. Why would they continue to live there if the husband/father had shot himself on the porch? So, I’m thinking that these two headless corpses not only raped but perhaps murdered his family. So, he beheaded them and, in his grief, took himself out.
Or, because he labeled himself a murderer, maybe something happened where his family went crazy, or just got bitten, and he had to put them down. And that made him feel like a murderer. Because I don’t think justly taking out bad guys would have made him feel that way.
This may feel largely irrelevant, but it’s in the episode for a reason. Once again, I think this probably points to some part of Beth’s future arc. I mean, this sort of thing, the kind of thing Abraham went through, since it happened at the hands of people that were part of his community and that he trusted, is the ultimate betrayal, right? So maybe it will be a matter of someone in her community that she trusts betraying them to the CRM or something. IDK.
I keep saying it’s the west/lone ranger stuff that = betrayal, but the Native American theme always seems to be tangled up with it, doesn’t it?
Some minor details.
They find *beer* in the cabin.
We find out that Mitch and Pete were in the army before the turn happened. And in this case, I don’t necessarily want to link that to the CRM. We could, but given that both of them are now dead, it doesn’t really matter.
But it occurred to me that this is more evidence of them being anti-Daryl and Merle. Daryl and Merle were nobodys and drifters before. So, their opposites were in one of the most disciplined professions one can enter. Daryl started in an unproductive place and evolved. Mitch started in a disciplined place and devolved.
Of course, they’re playing GOLF when he kills Martinez. After doing so, he sits like Daryl at the crossroads. Then when Lilly finds him in the RV, he says he had a bad dream. He doesn’t remember. (Memory loss mention.)
They tell the camp he was hitting golf balls, got drunk, and fell into the grave/pit. *coughs Bethyl*
There were some interesting mushroom mentions. I noticed that before they met up with Martinez’s group, they were talking about Tara’s ex girlfriend (who was named SAM, btw) who lied to her about her feelings for Tara. Lilly says, “Yeah, then you went camping, ate mushrooms, and the rest was history.” Or something like that. I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but then later, we see the same mushrooms on the trees around the Gov that we saw in Still. Hmm.
I’m also a little unsure of what to make of the walker pit they reach when they try to leave the camp. Remember they all take off in a car, including Tara’s girlfriend, but they have to stop because the road is impassible. It’s turned to mud and is full of walkers. I’m sure that’s symbolic of something, but I don’t know what.
Of course, the Gov kills Pete and recruits Mitch. You could say he has a very Negan approach, ruling through fear. He kills Pete specifically BECAUSE he’s the compassionate one and Mitch is the brutal one. Very different to how Rick ever approached things.
Okay, that’s most of what I have for the Gov. Except that at the beginning of 4x08, after he takes Michonne and Hershel prisoner, he says, “they’re the key.” (Key Theory).
#beth greene fan art#Beth greene lives#beth is alive#beth is coming#td theory#td theories#team delusional for the win#team defiance#beth is almost here#bethyl
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Powerful lines from Spinel that hit harder the more you watch
So I’m sure this has probably been done already BUT I’ve been having too many feelings about this movie and especially about this precious new gem so I absolutely have to gush. After watching the movie the first time through, there’s a lot of double meanings to Spinel’s lines that really make her come to life. Obviously this won’t include everything because then I might as well just link the entire dang movie. These lines are the ones that I’ve just found myself thinking about more and more as the days go by since my first watching of the film.
Spoiler alert, most of these are going to be coming from Other Friends (but that’s no big surprise).
!!-SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE MOVIE YET-!!
1. “I’ve got a new style, and a few new TOYS.”
Spinel’s introduction is very well framed in a lot of ways, with her slamming down on the injector and backlit by the pink poison glow, but the dialogue is what really hit me. With the context that Pink Diamond abandoned her because Pink eventually grew bored and tired of Spinel, this line in particular struck me as very pointed. Coupled with the slam of her palm against the giant instrument of death, it speaks volumes about how Pink Diamond saw the things that she valued as hers, as well as how Spinel sees herself. Pink had tossed her aside like an unwanted doll - now SHE gets to be the one with fancy new toys, tossing aside her old self just like Pink did.
2. “Yeah yeah, I’ve heard. I’ve had your little message to the universe ON LOOP!”
Pretty blatant in context, but the more you think about it, the sadder it gets. Spinel stood in the garden for six millennia, loyal and faithful to Pink all along, praying she’d return. Instead, all Spinel gets in response is some happy message to the universe from a galaxy-wide intercom that tells her Pink Diamond lived a happy life without her. That everything else was so much better for Pink with her forgotten. That Pink made new friends. Hearing this broke her heart, and traumatized her. Yet she listened over and over to the same message - hoping it would change? Trying to deny it, and see if it wasn’t true? She had the fulfilling relationship she was denied shoved in her face over and over, until she finally gets angry enough to go vent her fury.
3. “[...] where Pink Diamond spends the rest of her days on this NOWHERE PLANET, with a bunch- of- NOBODIES!”
Pink had her own private garden; built just for her, as we know the other diamonds have no taste at all in preserving or keeping organic life. And in the efforts of the Diamond Authority to keep Pink happy, they also gave her Spinel, a gem specifically designed to be a top-of-the-line Best Friend.
And yet despite all of Spinel’s quirky and goofy nature, she was never enough for Pink. The garden, for all its beauty and catering to Pink’s desires, was never enough either. Pink traded her personal playground and ultimate playmate for a planet that was doomed to be colonized and destroyed, and for a- as she puts it- “menagerie” of gems that aren’t particularly special at all. An ‘overcooked’ Amethyst soldier, a Pearl created to be a servant rather than a friend, and a fusion that by Diamond law had been outlawed in Spinel’s time. Spinel was left in her special garden to rot, in exchange for what she views as nothing but a downgrade.
4. “What did she say about me, what did she say? What did you do without me, what did you do? Did you play games without me, what did you play? Did you think all this time that I wouldn’t find out about you?”
These are all the things that ran through Spinel’s head after finding out she’d been left behind for good. That surely Pink Diamond gossiped to her brand new friends about the one she left behind. That surely Pink included her brand new friends in every game she wanted to play that Spinel couldn’t be a part of. That surely everyone involved with Pink Diamond MUST have known about her, and chose to leave her behind. It’s her rationalization for her actions - her excuse to beat on complete strangers for the actions of one person that ruined her life.
5. “Who am I? Who am I?? What are you even saying?”
This is the moment where it hits home for Spinel - that Pink didn’t even talk to other gems about her. Spinel was so unimportant to Pink that she never even crossed her mind or came up in conversation. You can see the moment where shock takes over, and is bulldozed by even greater rage.
All those years, all that waiting, and Pink never once intended on returning, or even so much as acknowledge the existence of her previous ““best friend.””
6. “I’m the loser of the game you didn’t know you were playing!”
Aside from being probably my favorite line in the whole song, this one stuck with me for a good while. It took me until approx. the 54th loop of Other Friends to realize Spinel is being completely literal as well as metaphorical. The reason she stayed in the garden was because- to her- she WAS playing a game with Pink! A game that, by the shallow rules Pink herself set, Spinel has lost. Spinel broke the rules and moved from where Pink told her to stay, and Steven is, for all intents and purposes, what remains of Pink Diamond. He really didn’t know of this false game, none of the Crystal Gems did.
But this hit even harder in the emotional sense - Spinel lost the game long before she moved from her spot in the garden. She lost the minute Pink decided Spinel was better off forgotten on a rock in space than by her side, because her loyalty was wasted on Pink. In Spinel’s steadfast adoration of Pink, she never realized the truth until it was far too late, and she feels all the more foolish for it.
7. “Let’s play another game, this time I get to win! Lives on the line- winner takes all- ready or not, let’s BEGIN!”
Not only is this Spinel’s statement that she’s taking control back by FORCE - that SHE is now the one who gets to pick the games, and as a result, affect the lives of those she “plays” with (just like Pink) - but it’s also a very subtle admission of how this feels. Deep down in the depths of her mind, this isn’t just a mission to cause hurt in turn for the hurt she received, but also a potential suicide mission.
Sure, she might have a good chance of killing ALL of Pink Diamond’s precious new besties; with her fancy new “toys” of a jumbo-sized colony injector full of poison and a factory-reset device for gems, she stands to take out quite a few important Crystal Gems AND the Earth that stole Pink from her, before finishing what she started. But Spinel also acknowledges later in the film that Steven is respected as a legendary savior of the galaxy. She’s playing hardball with powerful figures, and she knows it. That’s WHY she went the extra effort to get such strong equipment before even showing up to the party - Steven and the Crystal Gems were a legitimate threat, who could have easily defeated or even shattered her. And for Spinel, who waited for thousands of years in what I can only describe as emotional torture in solitary confinement, shattering would be preferable to her than one more second of living in that torment.
8. “[We’re going] back, to where I never left.”
Physically leaving the garden never made her problems go away, like how Pink seemed to do with everything she grew bored of. Despite being on Earth, in this ‘new place to play’ and surrounded by gems she’d never met that she could make friends with, even Rejuvenated to be back to how she was supposed to be right out of the kindergarten, she can’t escape the damage done by Pink abandoning her. She’s unable to find happiness yet, haunted by Pink’s actions and decision to discard her. In Spinel’s mind, she’s standing in that garden. Still waiting for Pink. Still waiting for someone, anyone, to come and be her friend.
9. “I don’t want to play anymore.”
This has stopped being a game for Spinel. Attacking and hurting the people she blames for her life being ruined is no longer fun, and doesn’t make her feel better anymore. She’s losing whatever twisted enjoyment she was getting from the one small goal she set for herself to keep moving forward - revenge. So from this point onward, she’s determined to finish things - that maybe actually doing the deed and being done with it would finally make the pain go away.
10. “Why do I want to hurt you so badly? I’m supposed to be your friend... I just want to be your friend...”
Striking out from her anger and pain, Spinel finally recognizes that harming others isn’t going to change how she feels. The pain isn’t disappearing. She’s falling farther and farther from what she truly wants to be. In her heart, she DOESN’T want to harm others, and realizes that she’s lost control of herself and her actions.
And it’s her final plea to Pink Diamond, who she can never get back. That’s all she ever wanted from Pink, and in the end, was it really that much to ask?
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ten years from now [AU. drake walker x camille montespan] [part thirteen: breaking & entering]
Master List
Warnings: None. Some swear words because it’s Drake.
@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @mskaneko @ibldw-main @katedrakeohd @pug-bitch @gooddaykate @princessleac1 @burnsoslow @loveellamae @pedudley @oofchoices @emichelle @simplymissjulia @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @rainbowsinthestorm @notoriouscs @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @addictedtodrakefanfic @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @gardeningourmet @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019
**********************************
Drake heard the front door of an apartment open and so followed the sound, knowing Camille would be on the other end. He needed to see her. He needed to get to her door, take her into his arms and kiss her all over, never letting her go, and tell her he had screwed everything up and he was sorry, so very sorry, he would never give her a reason for him to be sorry ever again and all he wanted from now on was to make her happy, deliriously happy, fuck everything and anyone else, only Drake knew how to make her happy--
He stopped near the top of the stairs when he saw her face.
**********************************
‘Camille?’ he croaked.
Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot from crying. Her hair was pulled back from her face which only served to highlight the hollowness of her eyes; it was disconcerting.
‘Hey Drake,’ Camille whispered.
Drake took the remaining stairs two at a time, stumbling over his feet as he rushed to reach her. He took her by the hands; she felt loose.
‘What happened?’ he demanded.
Camille closed her eyes, her lips quivering. ‘Come in,’ she murmured.
Drake followed her inside, practically holding his breath. He felt as if the wind had been taken out of his sails and he was now just floating without a destination. It was only when he set foot into the hallway that he now realised that he was in her apartment. No, scratch that. Camille and Liam’s apartment.
He swallowed down the realisation that he shouldn’t be here.
What did he expect to happen? He would come to her door and declare his love and she would cast off her engagement ring, throw herself into his arms and scream, ‘YES! TAKE ME BACK TO TEXAS! I WILL CANCEL MY RIDICULOUSLY EXPENSIVE WEDDING AND BREAK MY FIANCEE’S HEART IN THE PROCESS, ALL FOR A MAN I DATED TEN YEARS AGO! LET’S DO IT!’
Drake realised he was a fucking idiot.
As Camille led him through the apartment, Drake couldn’t help but take in his surroundings. The hallway was painted a dove grey, a classy colour, and pictures were hung up artistically on the walls. Black and white photos of cities like Rome and Paris. Black and white photos of Liam and Camille, looking happy and in love.
When they reached the living room, Drake felt like he had landed in a world that didn’t belong to him. He had entered without asking. Breaking and entering.
On top of the ornate fireplace was an ornamental decoration made of little wooden letters: C + L.’ They were that couple. They had their fucking initials decorated around their home. To dig the knife in deeper, there was yet another black and white photograph of the two of them. They were both on the beach, snuggled into each other, smiling and holding up bottles of beer, clearing saying ‘cheers’ to the camera. Drake hadn’t realised that Camille liked beer.
All around the apartment were little details that showed Drake their relationship. The photographs. The wooden initials. The fucking wedding magazines that were stacked up on the coffee table.
Camille turned to face him with her arms crossed. ‘So,’ she said. ‘Why are you here?’
Drake blinked. His throat was so dry. ‘Where’s Liam?’ he rasped.
‘He’s gone,’ Camille told him, raising her chin.
‘Gone?’
‘Yes,’ Camille said, her voice blunt. ‘I told him the truth. He’s taken a bag and has left.’
Drake stepped back in shock. No wonder she looked like she had been crying. ‘Oh god, Camille-’
‘So whatever it is you’re here to say, just spit it out because quite frankly, I’ve had enough drama,’ Camille interrupted. ‘I’ve hurt Liam and I feel disgusted with myself. I broke his heart for nothing and I will never forgive myself.’
Drake dug his fingernails into his hands, trying to keep himself calm. He kept his eyes on her, trying to summon the courage to tell her how he felt. How she made him happy. How he had always loved her. How nobody had compared to her in the ten years since. But he couldn’t get the words out; they were lodged in his throat, refusing to escape.
Camille closed her eyes. ‘Drake, I’m tired,’ she muttered. ‘The last time I saw you, we argued and I said I needed space. Now you’re here, in my apartment, in New York by the way, not giving me space. We have made a total mess of everything and here you are, making it messier! I thought we had nothing more to say to each other? I thought you were angry with me. I thought we were done-’
‘We will never be done!’ Drake finally burst out. He hadn’t meant to shout. He hadn’t meant to interrupt her. But the idea that he and Camille were done had ignited terror in his heart. They couldn’t be done. Not now. Not after everything.
Camille’s eyes widened. ‘Drake-’
‘No, fucking listen to me,’ Drake cut in. He stepped towards her, renewed energy flooding his veins now. Camille kept her eyes on him as her chest rose and fell with nerves. Drake looked down at her now, keeping his voice steady as he began to speak again.
‘It’s been ten years,’ he said. ‘I know that’a fucking long time to hold a torch for somebody but trust me when I tell you that you are worth every single minute. Nobody else has compared to you since, no one. I always kept my feelings down deep inside because I thought we would never see each other again but now, you’re back in my life, even if the circumstances are different. As soon as I saw you sitting in my mom’s kitchen, looking like a fucking New York socialite, I knew I was done for. Because I still knew and loved the girl inside you. The Texas girl who likes whiskey and adores riding horses. The girl who gets lost inside mazes, has no sense of direction, can’t see in the fucking dark, and who has the most adorable laugh I’ve ever heard in my life. I could still see that you were the same, even when you look different and act different. You’re still my Camille.’
His feelings had come to the surface.
‘And then we started hangin’ out again and everything came back, every single feeling that I had pushed down just exploded to the surface. I was practically drowning in you. But I didn’t care because you were all I wanted. Sure, you were with Liam but in those moments when we were alone, I could pretend that you were mine. I got lost with you.’
Camille was staring with huge eyes as she listened to Drake’s words pour from him. He was word vomiting like she often did. He couldn’t stop talking.
‘I was a kid when we dated,’ he said. ‘I was immature. I couldn’t handle my feelings and I shut you out when really, all I wanted was to talk to you. I didn’t realise how fucking good I had it with you. But I’m older now and I know what I want; what I want is standing right in front of me.’
He reached out to graze her jaw with his finger. Camille swallowed but she didn’t move away. Drake took this as a promising sign and continued to speak, his voice growing stronger.
‘I’m sorry I fucked everything up for you and Liam,’ he said. ‘I was selfish. I’m sorry I’ve caused you pain. But if you will let me, I will try every day for the rest of my life to take that pain away and only give you reasons to be happy.’
Camille opened her mouth to speak but Drake bulldozed through; like his mother, he realised.
‘I wanna take you back to Texas,’ he said. ‘I wanna be with you every day. I want to wake up next to you and fall asleep beside you. I want to marry you and have babies with you. I want to celebrate 4th of July with you. I want endless summers filled with whiskey, horse riding, homemade lemonade and peaches. I want moments with you by the jetty, just watching the sun set. I want to be the best possible version of myself with you and I want to watch you achieve your hopes and dreams. I want a life with you, Camille. I fucked up ten years ago but I promise, I’ll never do it again. I know what I want and it’s you.’
He took a breath. His eyes bore into hers; she looked like she was about to faint.
‘It’s always been you,’ he murmured. ‘Always.’
************************************
There was a long, horrible silence. They stared at each other for what felt like eternity and Drake knew he couldn’t take back anything he had just said. But he had meant it. He wanted her to know. She had to know how he felt and if she told him to leave, then so be it. At least, for the first time in his life, Drake had opened up.
‘I need a drink..’ Camille whispered.
Drake nodded. ‘I get that.’
‘Do you want one?’
‘Please.’
He followed her into the kitchen. Drake’s eyes instantly went to the calendar on the wall that was emblazoned with the words WEDDING COUNTDOWN.
Oh dear God.
Camille brought out two glasses and a bottle of vodka. She poured the alcohol into the glasses and handed one to Drake; the vodka seared his throat, making his eyes water.
‘No whiskey?’ he joked, trying to make the mood light.
‘Liam doesn’t drink it,’ Camille said dryly. She tossed back her vodka and didn’t flinch.
Drake eyed her warily. He had no idea what she was thinking. He had expected two reactions; either she would kick him out of the apartment or she would fling herself at him, kissing him with abandon.
She was doing neither of those things.
For the first time in his life, Drake had no idea what Camille was thinking.
*******************************
When Camille finished her second glass, she leaned against the kitchen counter and looked down at the floor with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Drake stood awkwardly by the stove, unsure of what to do with himself.
‘I’ve wanted you to say those things to me for ten years,’ Camille finally whispered, her voice cracking. Drake held his breath as he listened to her, too scared to say something that would make her retreat.
‘You’ve finally said everything I’ve ever wanted you to say,’ she continued. ‘And I feel.. Strange. Like, happy but sad at the same time, you know?’
Drake nodded silently. Camille looked at him now and rubbed her eyes harshly. When she spoke again, her voice was very small and fragile. Drake wanted to just hold her and tell her all would be alright, but he stayed put.
‘Sad because I’ve hurt Liam,’ she said. ‘But happy because you love me.’
‘I’ve always loved you,’ Drake murmured.
‘And I’ve always loved you, deep down,’ she replied. ‘I never really let Liam in, I can see it now. He had no chance. I agreed to marry him but I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t what I really wanted. I’m a bad person, Drake. I lead him on. He told me he deserves better and I can’t dispute that.’
Drake sighed. ‘You make mistakes, we all do. We just gotta learn from them.’
Camille shrugged. ‘I know. But now, you’ve told me all of this and I need to work out how to move forward.’
They were talking very diplomatically here. Like it was a business deal. The idea that Drake and Camille would end their deep talk in a display of fiery passion was fading by the minute.
‘I’ve got a wedding to cancel,’ Camille said. ‘I’ve got a grandma to look after-’
‘You’re gonna look after Gisele?’ Drake interrupted, surprised. ‘But she’s in Texas.’
‘Yeah?’ Camille said, her voice questioning. ‘I know that. I’m going to be coming back to Texas to look after her when she’s out of hospital.’
Drake’s heart leaped. She was coming back to Texas. She would be near him again-
As if she knew what he was thinking, Camille sighed. ‘I need time to process all of this,’ she told him quietly. ‘I’m coming back to Texas, I don’t know for how long but my priority right now is grandma.’
Drake’s heart sank. ‘Oh, okay. That’s understandable.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Totally makes sense..’
She moved away from the counter now and took his hand, much to Drake’s shock. He looked down at her, his eyes wide, and he could feel his heart hammering against his chest.
‘I need time to think,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll need some space to just think about what I need to do. I’ve got a lot in my head right now, it’s overwhelming.’
Drake nodded. ‘I get that.’
Camille smiled weakly. She squeezed his hand.
‘But I will probably want to drink whiskey by the lake once I feel clearer,’ she whispered.
Drake let out a sigh of relief. Camille smiled properly now, which made him feel better. ‘So, you’re asking for space and baby steps?’ he asked, his voice halting.
Camille nodded. ‘Baby steps.’
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It’s been awhile since I’ve been back on tumblr, but my shits gotten so bad lately that I need something, some kind of outlet. I feel so goddamn alone and my mind feels so stretched thin that if it doesn’t just completely snap, it surely will never fully recover. I thought I was getting better for a while, but the stress of the last three years has taken a toll. My daughter is everything to me, and I feel like I started out with so much joy and energy. Little by little my energy has run down and I have no way of resting to recuperate it. I have no friends, my family is toxic, and my fiancé is in a word, awful. He’s manipulative, a gas lighter, liar, he blames, critiques, always angry, so fucking angry all of the time. He uses my limitations against me and I’m stuck with him. I’m disabled, I have zero money to my name, zero support system, and I’m afraid if I tried to leave him, I wouldn’t be able to bring my daughter with me, or more to the point, he would fight for custody and win. I can’t even trust him to watch our daughter for half an hour. He falls asleep and she gets hurt or makes just the most epic messes of all time. My executive function has gone out the window almost entirely because I am severely disabled and the only one caring for our daughter 24/7. I’m the only one worrying for her, planning for her, teaching her, dressing her, feeding her, changing her. I can’t do for myself anymore because every drop of energy goes to her and there is never a break. And yet he holds it over my head that I’m not doing enough. I am so lost in this depression and loneliness and it’s not fair to her, and meanwhile this man doesn’t even care about his daughter enough to let me have a break. If he does miraculously take her out of the house, he takes her to his moms house, so someone else will watch her. Still, it’s the only way he can be trusted with her.
I hadn’t left the house in a while. It’s hard for me to get out when there isn’t a pandemic, and the longer I stay in the worse it gets. There were more months in the year than times I went inside a public place in 2020. I went outside a few times, but it’s hard for me to even step out on my front porch, or go into my back yard. Sometimes I forget there’s a pandemic going on out there because I have simply not experienced the masks, hand sanitizers, temperature checks, and empty toilet paper aisles. If I need something, I order it or he goes out to get it. Yesterday I felt cabin fever kicking in again. I always have a low grade cabin fever, it’s been like this for 12 years, but the cabin fever has to be greater than the anxiety and mixed with a touch of mania for me to be like, “must leave now.” So I said let’s go get something to eat. I meant a drive through. When I get out of the house, I stay in the car the whole time, even before the pandemic. We were pulling away from Taco Bell and I mentioned that I thought the nacho fries were loaded because of a picture. He started asking me what loaded fries were. I know that he knows what loaded fries are. So I said loaded, like loaded fries. And he kept insisting I explain what was loaded. At that point I had no idea what he wanted from me so I had no answer that was acceptable for him and we ended up getting in a ridiculous argument over goddamn loaded fries. Turns out he wanted the precise toppings I thought were on the loaded fries, that evidently doesn’t even exist. I misinterpreted a picture. All because I misinterpreted a picture and he felt I should have memorized the menu in anticipation of him asking me what loaded fries were. It was awful and so fucking stupid. All I wanted was to leave the house for 20 minutes. We ended up arguing the whole way home and in the kitchen. By the time I started trying to calm myself down I realized that I had been completely triggered in an episode. By which I mean that time felt different. My episodic memory was skewed. There were blank spots in my memory when I had become the most frustrated and confused. Everything was coming back to me in flashes or pictures and feelings. Which screws me, because if he can trigger me to lose pieces of time, then he can control the narrative. He said that I was demeaning him and making him feel stupid for asking. That was never my intention, I legitimately didn’t understand what he was asking me. It wasn’t until I calmed down that I remembered his crack at the window when we got our food. He made sure the window was open and the lady was there to chide me on being indecisive and worrying about what other people were ordering. Like I was a child. (We always get the 12 taco box, but I got a meal this time and wanted to know if he was going to get the party box, because if he was, then I shouldn’t get the combo meal. Like not a big deal, but an important distinction if you’re not trying to waste food or money.) It was a ridiculous argument and I feel a little silly trying to go into every minutiae detail of trying to order our food, but I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and got ridiculed and then grilled over the Taco Bell menu. Anyway...
It’s hard for me to leave by myself, that requires a whole other recipe of confidence and mania. I usually feel like I need another adult as a life line. I just don’t know why I keep feeling like I can use him as a life line. He does this every time we go somewhere. In fact I stopped going to the grocery in large part because he was the only one left who would go with me and he ends up disappearing the second we’re in the door, or he criticizes me for being so slow or browsing, or not taking the most military like detailed path through the store. Because no matter what you are doing, he could do it better, and he’s going to tell you all about it. I use to shop with his brother, or my best friend, but his brother isn’t around as much anymore and my best friend/sister since kindergarten is severely disabled now as well. I have told him a million times that my senses get overloaded in the store and that I have to take it slow, that I have to stay calm and collected, or I won’t be able to continue shopping, but he doesn’t care. I think he wants me to fail.
I stopped driving us places because he constantly criticizes me. He tells me which parking place I should have taken as I pass it which always sort of deletes my brain a little and then he uses that second of confusion in me to jump in full force about what I “always do” wrong and “why don’t you” ever and when I finally get parked it “took me long enough” and what’s the difference between that spot and the spot he said. Usually the spot is closeness to the door. He will park at the very edge of the parking lot knowing I won’t want to go in if he does, while I look for a closer spot so I can easily exit the store. My entire body is exhausted by the time I leave, so I know I will need to park closer. I’ve told him this, he knows this. The parking is just an example. He uses the entire drive to somewhere to poke at me until I am a mess of anxiety and then I no longer have the energy for whatever we’re doing. I do just fine when I drive by myself or someone else. Just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with my driving, I don’t speed, I don’t follow anyone too closely, I don’t run red lights, slam on breaks just to piss someone off, I don’t swerve through heavy traffic, I don’t roll my window down to yell at people, I don’t cut people off and yell at them for it, I don’t act like I own the road, but he does. He does all of those things. He gets so angry in the car and it makes you feel so uncomfortable and anxious you’ll melt into the seat. It’s awful. He’s awful.
When our daughter was born, I had a renewed since of confidence. I stopped saying sorry and I started just getting pissed. In a way it has backfired though, because now I’m pissed and bitter and he acts like I’m the one abusing him for calling him out on his shitty behavior. Basically he’ll pull some asshole move, I say hey that was wrong of you and he acts completely dejected and will sarcastically say, “you’re right, I’m the asshole.” He makes it impossible to argue with him. He will make shit up, twist my words to fit his narrative, describe to me MY intentions (which is never correct), he will change his story and say it’s been his story all along, he will switch sides of the argument in the middle and tell you your argument was his and his was yours the whole time so that he feels he’s come out on top, and mostly, when you prove him wrong, he will simply deny anything happened directly to my face when we both witnessed it and he will expect it to end there. If I try to say any more about something that he decides didn’t happen he will yell at me to shut up and he will put a hole in the wall or in a door to punish me.
When I try to talk about a health issue that has been plaguing me, he often will make a stupid joke, change the subject, or just interrupt me and bulldoze right over, but it doesn’t fail, within 2 weeks he will be complaining about the EXACT same thing, and if I don’t take him seriously, I am the asshole who doesn’t care and only ever wants to talk about my health.
He ruins every holiday. Without fail. The night before a party with my family, he will purposefully sabotage his sleep, get a few hours and then wake up as the grumpiest person ever. He has on multiple occasions said that if I remind him that we need to be to bed early he will have to stay up. Making it my fault that he stayed up because I presented an opportunity to rebel against someone and he has to take it. Seriously. He doesn’t do this with the same frequency or intensity for his own family parties of course. He acts completely embarrassing in front of my family. He will talk down to me, or get drunk and start lying poorly to family members trying to seem interesting.
So anyway. That’s life in a nutshell right now. And if anything, I’ve got my feelings out so I could easily recall them if I needed to for anything more ... official. It’s hard for me to compile all of my thoughts on all of the things. My memory is shot to hell and it’s easy to get caught up in “well maybe he’s right” when I can’t see the whole picture. My grammar and structure is not the greatest, but my daughter will be waking up from her nap soon, so it will have to do.
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And There Are Storms We Cannot Weather (Ch. 1)
Pairing: Terranort x Anti-Aqua
Rating: M
Word Count: 4,457
Summary: If light won’t give Aqua her family back, she’ll use darkness to free them instead. There’s just one problem: him.
Read on AO3
A/N: Happy TWO-YEAR fic anniversary to me!! I’m releasing this a week ahead of the big day, I was just too excited to keep it to myself. This is such a rarepair (strangely? WHYYYY) and it’s exhilarating and liberating to get on something different! It’s an Enemies to Friends to Lovers fic and it’s such a scary thing to work on. I need to thank my two betas: @steadyknight who is my sharper edge and will push me to my limits, and @lyssala who is my soft embrace and will keep me hopeful. Together, they balance this piece out and without them, I would not have the courage to post this. Thank you both so much for your insight, encouragement, and critiques. ;-; ;-; ;-;
~*~*~*~*~
Laced With Nitroglycerine
If she asks anyone in the world whether she exists, they’d say no - they don’t remember her, after all. They don’t even know why she disappeared in the first place, nor do they want to.
At least, no one today remembers her. She led a whole life a long time ago, and she spent twelve years recounting those memories like they were printed in a book, word for word. Each one of her loved ones has a text of their own, and if she had her way, she’d have them all on a shelf along with hers, together.
But there are empty spots on her shelf now. One is dead.
Another is sleeping, and she can’t retrieve him without the right key, unless she risks losing her mind.
The last one is unaccounted for.
So she traces her steps like she’s reading backwards, and watches people from places they don’t notice: within the cracks in between cobblestone, where they step on her; by the dumpster, where they abandon waste all over her, never realizing they’re burying her; under the storm drain, where they don’t bother to look; inside of closets, where they’re too preoccupied to peek.
After hours of eavesdropping useless conversation, she decides staying in Radiant Garden isn’t worth her trouble. She leaves, heading nowhere until she’s distant enough to wonder where she belongs.
Nowhere is a wasteland, with only a graveyard. And a man.
When the man sees her coming, he’s delighted to see her again, the way a child imagines a demon would be: lips curled, showing both rows of teeth, and a hungry glare where she’s the feast.
He looks the same, but he doesn’t, golden eyes ambered and deep which pierce through her. His hair is whiter than the sun - there’s no denying his presence, even yards away in the middle of an unmarked Keyblade burial site.
"All worlds begin in darkness, and all so end. The heart is no different - such is its nature. In the end, every heart returns to the darkness whence it came."
These are his first words to her, rich and smooth like the hum of a distant earthquake.
His glee cackles, an indication that he is no different from the very last moment she's seen him and that he has changed in every single way imaginable.
“I fell into darkness for you,” she says, her voice icy.
“Come again?”
She doesn’t lend a second for thought. He will not play dumb today. He will take responsibility.
Gliding across the sand, Master Aqua whips out a Keyblade - tacky blue slamming against ornate silver, her ugly Keyblade bouncing off of his as he knocks her back.
He sneers when he glances at her weapon. “Interesting choice for plunder.”
She grunts. She shrieks. She won’t give him a chance to talk (who cares what she stole?). Aqua slams her Keyblade against his, again and again and again. He’s going to take responsibility for leaving her behind. She will make it hurt.
He parries, sliding his blade up against hers to throw her off balance. Then he steps forward, and disappears in a puff of smoke. Pops back up, too close for comfort and erasing the space between them.
Close enough to grab her. Enough to take a faint whiff of cologne every time he takes a massive swing of his heavy Keyblade.
She dodges, floats, kicks dirt in his face - anything to break the air between them but still he comes charging at her, chest open for a strike and yet he gets too near to allow her a clear shot.
Like he knows she wants to. He knows what his weaknesses are and leaving his body exposed isn’t one of them.
Damn him.
They trade blows, metal to metal in beats and uppercuts, always blocked, clanking away and making enough noise to wake the dead.
Then without warning, he lurches back to keep his distance, strutting her in circles like he’s the predator.
If that’s the case, then he truly cannot grasp what he’s dealing with.
“Following ghosts from your past, are you?” he says, keeping his Keyblade flexed. “No, I am mistaken. You walk among them.”
“You’re not who I’m looking for.”
“On the contrary,” he coos, “I am.”
Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a metal and glass trinket, dipped in a color bolder than the earth beneath his feet.
"Give it back," she growls, as quiet and collected as a feline stalking prey.
The warm-orange Wayfinder dangling in display catches the sun when he wiggles it, before he clasps the entire thing in his large hand. He shoves it deep into his pocket like he's making a show out of taking something precious away from her.
“It is mine,” he says with a smile as sarcastic as a snarl.
Part of her should have known. The Realm of Darkness is not the only monster with teeth, and the moment she freed herself left her exposed to all that is hungry in the outside world.
When she steps forward, he steps back, his grin brimming like he’s excited. She throws herself against him for another hit.
He replies by playing coy, using switch and bait tactics to avoid every one of her attacks until she tires out. She's smart enough to realize it but she's too angry to care, telling her body that it can finally rest when he’s stopped breathing.
A lurch back when she lunges, a swerve when she's too close - he blends in and out of darkness to put distance between them just so she wastes her time catching up. He’s amused, beckoning her to come near with a finger. Come, is what he’s saying when he does this, I’m over here.
It's only when she starts getting furious, when darkness starts smoking off her skin, that he finally loses interest in taunting her.
She's used to attacks that stun; she's dodged and blocked against them all her life, but his have an extra kick, an extra surge of that desperate need to be stronger, faster, better, bigger.
Power is seductive and he's addicted to the girth of his muscles, into the way he slams his Keyblade onto hers, in the way his shoulders flex and tense with gusto when he pushes hard enough to make her stumble, in his prowess with dark magic that allows him to be too fast for his size.
He's a cheater, put simply. He cheats the laws of physics when he teleports, when he launches himself across the field like a bulldozer, when he floats around and mocks how hopelessly she chases him.
"So unrefined," he says about her flurries and fireworks, her ghosting and her flashy waves of purple. "You are deafening the desires of your heart," he continues like he's giving advice to a boring child, his posture suddenly lax like he has nothing to fear.
"I listen to it." She doesn't. It's abandoned her, silent as a weep when she turns to herself for answers.
"Clearly.”
"Shut up."
It's not like she doesn't know how her heart feels - angry and bitter enough to propel her forward, to make that Keyblade glow darkly and launch fireballs, blinding him until she follows through and meets him face to face, Keyblade to Keyblade, grinding and sparking and trembling. There's enough hatred and misery mixed in their magic to pool darkness together, a mass so dense it could stain stardust with black ink.
"You will do better by paying attention," he smirks, and she wants to punch it out of his face. His eyes scan her own, so deep and slick in gold that it reminds her of what she truly is: the same as him.
She spent many foolish years indulging in fantasies of what she'd make with their bodies once they were both reunited - making war was far from it.
"Give in," he says smoothly, their Keyblades shaking by this point. "Let your heart speak for itself."
She nearly spits at him. How dare he tell her how to do anything?
"Yes." He approves of her reaction, like he's getting off on it.
She’ll make him regret speaking to her like that.
Dropping to her knees and sweeping with a kick, she trips him, disappearing from his line of vision and leaving him stranded with nothing but dead Keyblades.
Aqua doesn't have much to say with words anymore. Her phantoms would pull their weight with that kind of hard work.
They creep from the Keyblades, stalking him until they finish their lap and vanish. Meant to be disorienting, they're a message, a filter for her pain so that someone out there knows. So that someone listens because dammit, she's been talking to herself for too many years.
"You left me to rot alone--"
"I waited so long for you to come get me--"
"I only wanted to go home--"
"I don't know what I did all this for--"
"Did you not care about me enough?"
“Traitor…”
"You will drown with me--"
But the bastard is not intimidated. He strides, barely giving them much of a glance as he rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. He's not moved by her words when he should be.
So she slithers, comes right behind him for a direct hit but he's suave and self-assured, blocking her with the force of a boulder.
It's hard to say what catches his attention, what with her shrieking when she misses such an easy target. His eyes drink her face like he's reading her, down her ink-stained arms to her pauldron and ripped sleeves, like he's undressing them.
"What a wasted opportunity," is all he has to say.
He counters - three grounded steps forward with furious swings before a horrendous slam to the ground, darkness lapping at her face and tossing her backward. She stumbles over her feet, her still-foreign Keyblade forsaking her grip.
Aqua spits dry sand out of her mouth; this place is out of her element. He stands in her way, proud and reserved, brushing hair out of his face. Seeing him do that makes her blood boil and her mood miserable.
"It is not a wasted effort, however," he says, towering her, enjoying how he's looking down on a woman on her knees, clutching her chest and gasping for breaths. "What power would you hold if you simply-"
"What do you care?"
"I can offer you a better existence," he says, one hand at his waist, his Keyblade not fading away in the other. "Something with more class than a beggar in the desert."
"Who says I'm begging?"
"You are a commodity, a great asset."
“For what?” She scoffs. “To be a Seeker of Darkness? Summon Kingdom Hearts? None of that is my problem.” Looking him in the eye, even from the ground, makes her feel tall. “I’d rather swallow acid than stand next to you.”
He's smug. "Your heart is weaker than I expected, fleeing the inevitable like a wounded creature."
"It is not weak," she says, emphasizing the sharpness of that last word with a tisk.
She realizes she’s good at this - pretending to know what she’s about even though she wonders if she's truly gone apathetic.
What she wants right now is to scratch that smile off his face. "Neither is Terra's."
"Terra?" he asks like he has forgotten who that is. He searches the horizon, his lips curling with captivation when he remembers a game he's won. "Terra yearns for my confidence."
Whatever ego-rubbing he's feeding off of, it emanates in clouds of smoke licking the skin of his fingers. "Terra desired strength.” He holds a fist in the air, flexing the forearm. “Witness how powerful he is now. You can have the same, whatever you desire if you learn to control it."
She scoffs, rolls her eyes.
"You know nothing of the darkness,” he says.
Nothing? No. “I am darkness.”
She screams. She knows plenty, years' worth. Master Aqua hates darkness. Master Aqua reeks of it.
They come, hundreds of Heartless in reply, desperately crawling over each other like they will each die if they're too slow.
She hears them, trickling like raindrops... help help help help help.
At first, he's proud, waving his arm in grandeur like he’s announcing their arrival. He’s expecting they're here to be used as his example.
Yet he's the one insinuating she knew nothing. What a fool.
It's delicious to see him hesitate when they don't answer him.
Aqua laughs, twisted enough to remind her he's not the only one who's changed. "They're mine," she informs him.
With her horde, she's finally mutable, melting into their group when they save her, ebbing with their movements.
Until the man with Terra’s face is surrounded by a tornado of monsters. Until they are face to face again, and he's shaking to push her off of his Keyblade.
Her claw grips the armor on his left arm and he braces himself as she scratches the metal.
“Smile at me like you used to,” she commands, bringing her face closer to feel his breath.
He doesn’t obey. His teeth are locked in a snarl, his eyes occasionally darting to see if his blind spots are in danger - not in fear, but in fury.
Refusing her is the wrong answer. "What I want with all my heart is to take you back," she tells him with savor in her voice. "I swear, no matter where you are, I will be close. I will make sure you are never too far away from me. I will fix you."
He throws a mean glare before he knocks her off and teleports out of the eye of the storm, forcing her to open her Heartless barrier open and chase after him.
Now he gets serious. He slams the ground with his Keyblade, and the dirt under him ripple like the deep sea in the middle of night. From there, he floats, casting a spell, a summon - a Guardian of sorts - and the colors start weaving shadows.
Aqua and her Heartless have a heart-to-heart link. She doesn’t need to say anything for them to know what she wants. They leave her, twisting in a tidal wave with the intent to crash into him directly while she deals with his new threat on her own.
The shadows underneath her feet converge and slither. They are cold and slimy, the touch of something lurking underwater brushing against her legs.
Bursting out of the ground, it grabs her by the leg and thrashes her around like a toy. The momentum of it makes her dizzy, and she limps in its hold.
She shivers at the sight.
Empty yellow eyes, but angrier. Mouth taped by bandages like it’s injured. An empty shell in the middle of its chest, like it feels less than a regular Heartless. It’s huge and broadchested, and the first thing that comes to mind is the exact moment when she first met this creature. It hurt.
It hurt her.
Disappearing from its grip in a puff of smoke, Aqua comes at it from above, Keyblade in hand.
Her Heartless know to circle back away and pummel into the beast from behind. It takes a direct barrage of her grunts and strikes with her Keyblade - and her very kicks - to its face, until she’s too pissed off to have mercy and she starts coming at it with her worst blasts and explosions.
She’s found the man’s weakness - this creature. It raises its hands to cover its face from another one of her surging powerballs when the man throws himself in between, blocking with a barrier. Juggling both her and the tidal wave, he knocks out her attacks with large shockwaves while commanding the Guardian to deal with the Heartless - blast by violent blast, creep by unnerving creep.
The Guardian hides and stalks her Heartless, targeting the ones in the middle: the ones less aggressive and are only there to fill numbers. The lost. The confused. The children.
Each time it leaps from the ground and takes a hard strike, Heartless are ticked off, lost to nothingness forever in just one shot.
Aqua gasps.
Every Heartless vanquished is a sting somewhere, like a knotted string pulled from the surface of her skin until it cuts off her circulation. Then it snaps - from her back, her bicep, her face, her own heart, like a slap of rubber. Each and every one.
They’re gone. They’ve suffered enough crawling around the Realm of Darkness, and now this. It’s not fair.
Aqua calls them nearer to her. Together, they are sturdier, and she pets one of her Heartless - the youngest yet the oldest one of the group - to make sure it’s alright.
Man and beast teleport far enough away to add yards between. His shoulders heave with breath, and he staggers ever so slightly before straightening, like he has to remind himself that there’s something to be proud of.
The Guardian is dismissed, and the man opens up his arms and bows to her.
Stalemate. Surrender. It doesn’t matter. All she feels is pain when she promised herself after she left the Realm of Darkness that she’d never feel it again.
“Equal powers,” he says, hiding his defeat in his smile, “equal strengths. Equal truths.” She doubts that. “You are a worthy enough adversary, and yet I’ve bided enough of my time on you.”
He turns over his shoulder.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” she spits, her knees shaking.
It’s uncanny for an enemy to expose his back - traditionally his weakest spot - but he doesn’t consider it.
“You came here looking for ghosts, were you not?”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“The graveyard is the perfect place to find one,” he says, waving his hand to beckon her. “This one is exactly who you’re looking for.”
Whether he’s taunting her or amusing himself, it’s easy to tell but hard to differentiate.
“You’re lying.”
“Suit yourself.” He continues on his way like he’s talking to himself. “The departed never linger.”
He doesn’t wait for her to catch up. Is he telling the truth? He’s smart, she’ll give him that. Smart and obnoxious, but he can’t afford to boldly take her to a trap.
If he pisses her off, she can finish the job. He’s weak enough now, and he should know this.
Aqua follows, her Heartless obedient and staying close. She eyes his shoulders, tracing the muscles to his spine. The most vulnerable spot is right at the brain stem.
He’s so much the same, and yet his stride has more bravado, more of a direction of where to go, like he’s solved all of his problems that plagued him in his young life.
“Tell me,” he says, glancing over his shoulder, “how did you escape the Dark Realm?”
Aqua doesn’t answer. It’s not his right to know.
“Peculiar,” is all he has to say about her silence.
She stops. “You’re wasting my time-”
“Here.” He gestures with his arm toward a blunder of rocks and boulders that have recently been blown off from a plateau high above.
Some of the pieces gleam in the harsh sunlight.
“This…” she hisses.
Armor. Chunks of it, sliced and abandoned in gold and red, next to a humongous, dull Keyblade laying flat on the ground. A scrap heap instead of a memorial, like all the rest.
She feels the man watching her as she gapes at the rubble before her.
“A lingering spirit,” he explains, his voice laced with a touch of condescension. “But no more. He spent far too long waiting for repentance until he was depleted of his will.”
She glares at him, golden eyes to golden eyes. His lashes are still luscious and as long as ever, lips slightly chapped as they always are. His lips are the same, but the smile is ugly. It twists, mischievous, like he understands exactly who’s responsible for this mess.
There is so much anger unspoken for but she doesn’t need words to tell him. Her fingers twitch, ready to slash him across the chest... but she’s drawn back by the very armor that needs her, pulling her heart heavily towards the ground. She doesn’t want to look at it but she knows it’s there, waiting for her to take care of it.
She can’t leave it now.
So she stares, waiting for the man to cower in her sight, refusing to be the first to step down.
But he notices what she’s trying to hide, and smirks. “You’re bound by his chains.”
His words pump her blood, her heart banging in her ears.
“Be wary of dead weight,” he says softly, his eyebrows pulsing upward. “Tied to your ankles, it will make you sink.”
“I know enough about drowning,” she quietly says.
He cocks his head, leaning forward. “There are depths you still cannot fathom.”
She inches closer to him, and can feel his breath on her lips. “We’ll see how hard you struggle to swim,” she whispers. “From now on, every breath you take is a gift from me.”
Something flickers in his eyes, and he smiles to himself.
Straightening up, he leaves her for silence, taking a step into a portal of darkness until it zips up behind him.
She hates him. Hates him for that stupid smirk he’s always wearing. Hates how good he is at reading her so easily, for knowing at first glance that she’d stay behind with the rubble when he turned over his shoulder.
She hates him for not letting her grieve her losses in peace.
The Realm has made good work of numbing her for twelve years, and now she takes a piece of it with her. Any surge of emotion - despair, nostalgia, yearning, wishing, and yes, even love - fades, leaving her stuck between yelling and not caring. Escaping the Realm should have been triumphant - not really deserving of applause, but it should have been the most important moment of her long life.
Standing here, in the midst of this mess, she wonders if waiting has been pointless all along.
Spurts of Heartless crawl toward the armor - they’re curious, as much as she is shaken by the sight. They’re attracted to what she feels, and because this armor makes her feel something, their interest spikes.
“Don’t touch,” she commands, and they squirm away.
First she takes the helmet under her arm. With the other, she grabs the torso by the neck rim, dragging it behind her. A few yards away is an indent carved into the plateau, right under an outcrop. It’s cooler there because the sun can’t touch it.
She takes laps, bringing in gauntlets and leg braces, all by herself. Finally, she drags that enormous Keyblade through the dirt, leaving a trail. It’s bigger than she remembers.
In the cave, she assembles the hips upright on the ground, right against the rock. Balances the torso on top. Lays the legs in front. Tries to attach the arms, but they simply fall.
Then the helmet. Sand spills out of the folds. One of its tall ears is chipped halfway, among other missing bits that tell her it was bashed in the face. Its visor is cracked, the damage running deep when she traces it with her finger. She imagines a pair of deep blue eyes behind the glass, but all she sees in the foggy reflection is her morphed face, gold eyes staring back.
“You broke before I did,” she says spitefully. Then the spite fades away, just like everything else. “I waited a long time for you, and…”
And it looked like it waited a long time for someone, too.
No matter how many times she wills her Heartless away, they always come back. Like puppies, they want to know what’s next. They just don’t have the words to ask.
“He’s not too far, don’t worry,” she says. Whether she’s saying it to her Heartless or to the armor, she doesn’t think too hard about it. “But this comes first.”
She balances the helmet on top of the torso, taking extra time with it. The last step is to lean the Keyblade next to the suit, against the rock. She’d rather have it here than among the nameless Keyblades out there - at least this can be a proper shrine, something to tell strangers who walk by that this was assembled with care. That someone who is nameless to them has been loved by those who remember him.
It’s better than the treatment she’s gotten, and she’s okay with that.
There’s still so much to fix.
Years of study have taught her that hearts are connected, and if a friend is in danger, she’d feel it.
Now that she’s spent enough time fighting with this version of a man, she can replay how his twisted heart beats (morphed, melted? Something is off with the way his heart thuds).
He’s traveling farther with each second, landing in a world that’s relatively close. He’s not in danger, not in the slightest, but it’s impressive how darkness makes it so much easier to track him than light could ever do for her. This is exactly why Heartless have an upper edge over people, lusting after hearts all the time, and she can almost feel it beating as though she has a hand over his chest.
Stepping out into the sun, Aqua and her pets are the only shadows in a world where nothing can escape its glare. A brighter light creates a darker shadow, and therefore the desert makes her the most powerful being here. Puffs of darkness spit up with dust with every step she takes, and Aqua conjures her own dark portal. It won’t be hard to find him.
There are no rules when dealing with a madman.
But he’s not the only one.
#terraqua#anti-aqua#dark aqua#terranort#terraquanort#kh fanfic#kingdom hearts fanfiction#antiaqua#there's too many tags just for her#i'm so excited to start this though!!!#and so intimidated#holy shit#what am i doing#my fic
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little more bite - kth (m)
pairing: taehyung/reader
rating: NSFW (18+), read tags carefully pls
genre: smut, wolf!hybrid x panther!hybrid
words: 5k+
description: after a shitty day at work, you're determined to go home and snuggle up with your blankets to watch netflix. sadly, the universe and this mutt named taehyung don't seem to want that to happen, though.
warnings: dom!tae, outside sex, sex with a stranger, unprotected sex (not a good idea, kids), (slight) breeding kink, overuse of the word 'kitten', oral, road rage, p much everything lmao.
notes: this is kind of a mess, and it’s a bit silly at first. i wrote it on a whim. btw, tae does come off as intimidating at first, but everything works out. ok? dw.
A tall, tan, and handsome man rapping his knuckles on your car window would usually seem like a great thing. Except, this one didn't have a particularly happy facial expression. It wasn't broad daylight, either. The man also didn't have a piece of paper held up to your window with a phone number written on it.
(A story for another time).
This man was definitely not here to be friendly. Instead, the mutt was here to yell at you because he had an extraordinarily awful day.
Luckily for him, you had a rather terrible day too. Little did he know, he was messing with the wrong cat.
You turn your attention to the man, and he stops tapping on your window.
"Did you get your fucking drivers license from a cereal box? Why the fuck are you stopped in the middle of the road?" the man hissed, ears twitching in annoyance. Before you can even spit out an explanation, you hear him murmur under his breath about you being a 'stupid cat.'
He takes a step back from the car and glimpses down the road to make sure no vehicles were coming. You roll down your window a crack. You weren't quite angry enough yet to put the window all the way down.
"Excuse me, mutt? Do you want to speak up?" you ask, raising your voice threateningly.
"You heard me loud and clear, but I'll repeat it since you're a little slow," he smirks. Through his fake smile and clenched teeth, he slowly repeats his earlier insult. "You. Are. Fucking. Dense," he says, emphasizing each word.
"Though, I don't know why I'm surprised. You're a cat after all."
That was it! He was not about to get away with this name-calling bullshit.
"What's your problem?" you ask, flinging open the car door. You nearly hit him in the process of stepping out, but he doesn't flinch. The night air is chilly, and you really wish you were at home. You could be wrapped in a burrito of blankets, and be drinking something nice and warm. Instead, you were stuck here with this asshole.
You slam your car door behind you, swiftly approaching him with confidence. The man has a wicked smirk planted on his face. A little voice in the back of your head yells at the top of its lungs. The voice screams at you and tells you that you've just walked into a trap.
The back of your mind jumps from thought bubble to another thought bubble.
'Kidnapping?'
The next idea your mind bounces to has your blood running cold.
'Sex trafficking?' Oh my god. No.
As you grow closer and closer to him, the burst of confidence dissipates.
It took maybe a total of four or five steps to be eye to eye with him. The smirk remains plastered to his face, and he waits. What exactly had you planned to do when you walked up to him? This man was so much bigger than you, the chances of you winning in a conflict were slim.
By the time you've come up with something to do or say, you notice that he has become distracted by something behind you. You open your mouth to speak but snap it shut to glance behind you. To your astonishment, he has snatched up your tail and is yanking it. You try to leap out of his reach, but he has a solid grip on your tail. Heat rushes to your cheeks and embarrassment burns in your veins.
Did he think you were some sort of fucking toy that he could play with?
"You son of a bitch!" you snarl, grabbing your tail from his palms. He registers your reaction as being one of anger, and not as one of embarrassment. You read his reaction as genuine, guessing that he did it without thinking. "What? It was flicking from side to side, and you expect me not to try to stop it? It's annoying."
You find yourself wanting to laugh, but you're so flustered you can't. This guy had to be a complete lunatic. He was acting like more of a cat than you were. Really? Chasing after something because it's moving.
You huff and smooth out your clothes. He might not have known any better, considering he isn't a panther hybrid. Tails were extremely sensitive, and something that no one but the person the tail is attached too should touch. You tried to ignore the stir in your lower region, now was really not the time.
"And I'm the dumb one?" you scoff, rolling your eyes.
He couldn't form his next sentence faster than you could, so you bulldozed your way right into the original topic. "Since you apparently have a problem with cat hybrids, let's talk about it. Why do you hate us so much? Did your dad leave your mother for a cat or something? Or is it because you can't get any pussy?"
His eyebrows raise, and you can tell he is taken aback slightly because of your words. The surprise disappeared from his face and was replaced with an emotion you couldn't place. "Trust me, baby. I've had plenty of practice with pussy. In fact, I bet I could make this pussy" — He jabs his finger lightly into your shoulder, indicating that he's now talking about you. — "feel the best it's ever felt."
You cross your arms, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. Was he serious? You were not about to...
"You're all talk and no action. Show me something, then. Stop barking and bite already."
The words have slipped out before you can reel them in. Despite him being a complete stranger, a part of you was eager to test it. You wanted to tip the scales to see how he would react. This man was clearly very bold. In fact, you could almost see the confidence rolling off of his form.
When he took a step forward, you realized that this was him accepting your challenge.
The action had you taking a step back, as much as you didn't want to budge. It was instinct. You should find the nearest tree and run up it to hide.
There was a very vivid fire raging in those dark eyes. Though it thrilled you, you couldn't stop the slight tremble of your hands. You advanced too far and now he was willing to put you in your place. You yearned to be brave and stand up to him, but yet you kept retreating backward.
Eventually, there was no more space left. The back of your leg connected with the side of your car, and you knew you were done for. The man was up in your face once again. The man reaches around the back of your neck and tows you close. You're trapped between him and your car. You can feel the warm breath against your neck, and you're sure your expression gives away how shocked you are.
He still seems to show some restraint, not touching you anywhere except for the back of your neck with his palm. "You wanted to see action, baby? You got it."
The pet name rolls off of his tongue so smoothly you feel as if you're going to melt. You can get a strong whiff of his scent from how close he is now. There wasn't an easy way to describe it. The closest explanation would be that he smells like he works in a flower shop. and that flower shop is directly across from a bakery. You would call it calming, but it was in no way calming when it was wafting off the stranger that had you leaned up against your own car.
"You still sure you want some of this? Hm, kitten?" he questions, moving back to look you in the eyes. You gulp, unsure of the exact meaning of his words.
The hesitation is clear as day, and your internal struggle is evident to him.
"Just say no, and I'll back off," he mumbles. He brings the hand that was placed on your car to your face and gently caresses it. "Don't over think it. If you don't want this, let me know."
The anxiety in your chest is replaced with a strange, aching warmth. He didn't seem like a freak any longer. He was still bold and a little quirky, but not someone who would hurt you. Any other person, any other day, would the odd feeling in your chest still be there? You didn't know, but maybe there was something different about him that caused you to want to trust him. Hopefully, you weren't about to regret this.
Feeling a little more reassured now, you try to channel the confidence from earlier. It's as if you can physically feel it bubble back up and out of your throat. "Fuck yeah, what are you waiting for, mutt?" you nod.
A deep rumble comes from his chest, and the sliver of softness you saw from earlier is gone. He shoves his body fully against yours, letting his hands roam. He twists you around abruptly, so your back is to him. He bends you over the hood of your car. The material of your shirt is rather thin, and the cold isn't blocked very well like this.
"What's your name, sweet thing?" he asks roughly. At this angle, you couldn't see him, but you knew damn well those sharp eyes were scouring every inch of your figure. "Well?" he huffs.
You can't seem to speak fast enough for his taste, because he swats your ass once and then twice without a bit of hesitation. You mewl out your name helplessly, feeling delighted by the sting.
"Oh, you liked that? Didn't you, Y/n? Pretty name for a gorgeous girl. I'm Taehyung."
The taunt brings warmth to your face. He doesn't stop there though, he makes it his motive to see you flustered. "Do you want me to take you against the car, baby? Anyone in the world could drive by and see you. They'd be glad they decided to drive down this road, though, wouldn't they?" He asks, bringing down his hand on your ass once more.
"Pretty little slut bent over a car, who wouldn't want to see that?" He rumbles.
You're joking?
As if on cue, you spot the headlights of a truck.
Just your luck.
You instantly start to claw away from Taehyung, ready to hide. Taehyung releases his hold on you and nudges you towards the tall field. You peer back to see what he's doing, and you can tell he is as genuinely surprised as you are.
"Go," he points towards the field.
Your face scrunches up in confusion, and he jabs his finger in the same direction. "They're going to stop if they see two cars stopped on the side of the road. I'll be there soon."
The hum of the truck grows closer, and you scramble toward the field. In a split second, you're hidden in the depths of the cornfield. It was pretty hard to see where you were going, but you did your best. The moon was still bright enough that you could vaguely make out what was what, at least. A slight trail is left behind you from where you've shimmied around the thick stocks or have simply shoved it away.
The feeling of the husks brushing against your bare thighs made you cringe. This had to happen the day you wear a skirt, didn't it? You find a slight clearing in the field, and sit down in the middle of the area.
A sudden thought hits you. Why hadn't you just hopped in your own car?
Well, maybe it would've looked like Taehyung was harassing you while you were broke down on the side of the road. Really, though? His first thought was to tell you to go into the fucking cornfield so you could get abducted by aliens?
And your first thought was to listen?
Realistically, you should be more concerned about a snake slithering up to you to take a seat on your lap.
...
...
You weren't going to see a snake.
...
You were fine.
Why was Taehyung taking so long?
Why was it so quiet?
You halt your movements, listening carefully to what was around you. You didn't move, trying to hear if there was a rumble of a truck or something. DId that fucker dip and leave you? What a bastar—
"Boo!" Taehyung yelled, plowing right into your form.
You shrieked, not registering who or what had just jumped out at you. It was only until after his arms latched around you, that you realized it was just the douchebag.
"Aww, was kitty scared?" he giggles childishly, obviously quite proud that he successfully frightened you. You let the comment slide, more focused on how fast your heart is racing. Thankfully, the warm scent that fills the air around you is calming, and you lean into his embrace. Which is odd, considering you've known him for maybe 20 minutes.
You close your eyes, trying to calm down your racing heart. He buries his nose into the side of your neck, nudging you. "Sorry, I had to do it. You made it too easy for me. I wasn't expecting you to come so far into the field, by the way. I had to try and track down your scent to find you."
You frown, "Yeah, you're a dick for that... But really? How far exactly did I come in?"
He adjusts you in his grasp so that you're sitting perfectly between his legs, and leaning with your back against his chest. His hands inch down your body, exploring you gradually. He hums, thinking carefully. "I don't have a good guess for the distance, but it seemed as if I was searching for more than ten minutes."
Nonchalantly, he presses his lips against your neck, and you drop the topic. This son of a bitch was acting so... Unbothered. He doesn't miss a beat in his actions, it seemed so easy to him. As if he did this on the regular... Well, with that face, he probably got it all the time.
Your lips part slightly as you feel his lips graze and his teeth gently nip at your skin.
"D-Did the people stop?" you rasp, feigning curiosity. To be frank, you didn't care about the people. There was an ache in your lower region, and you were dying for him to do something about that. You were torn, though. You didn't want to show him just how desperate you were for his touch.
"Yeah," he said, lifting his head momentarily. He continued on, in the most casual way possible. "It was an older guy, he asked if I needed help, and I told him I could take care of it. He almost insisted to stay, but he said he better get home before 'the wife' calls him asking where he is."
"Wait, what? Did you pop the hood and pretend you were working on my car?"
"Honestly? That's exactly what I did. I know nothing about cars," he chuckles. His hand found the hem of your shirt and he started to pull the material upwards, stripping you of your shirt.
"Yeah, figured that," you mutter, helping him free the fabric from your form. You can sense the slight shift in his attitude. You peek back to see his head is tilted in confusion. Just to spite him, you finish the thought. "You look more like the janitor type of guy. Not a mechanic," you smile innocently.
He rolled his eyes and reached to unhook your bra. You could tell he wanted to press the topic more but was too distracted to do so. Another time it would be, then. After a few moments, he unsnapped it successfully. He slid the straps off your shoulders and threw it beside you.
For a second, he froze, thinking carefully.
"Uh. So. Not to kill the romantic, dreamy bedroom setting, but do you mind sitting up so I can get these pants off?" he asks, words dripping with sarcasm.
The sarcasm trickles back to him just as smoothly as he initially delivered it.
"Oh, I don't mind. Let me get off this lavish bedding we have so you can strip."
You sit up on your knees, cringing a bit at the feeling of the rough ground on your knees. By the time you've shimmied out of your skirt and your panties, Tae is also completely stripped down. He also has his jacket, pants, and shirt laying on the ground as a barrier. Your face flushes uncontrollably, you were standing bare naked, directly in front of a stranger. Outside of all places. What the fuck?
"Come here, gorgeous," he motioned you over. You kneel down in front of him, trembling due to the adrenaline rushing through you. He takes notice, and you can see the soft shift in his dark eyes. "Look at you, kitten. Such a pretty little slut, with nice perky tits and soft skin."
He trails a hand over your breast, cupping it softly. "Tell me, kitten? Are you willing to use that smart mouth for something other than being snarky?"
You found yourself smirking, this man really had no idea what was coming to him. You let your eyes explore his figure carefully, taking note of every single detail of his skin. He was absolute perfection. You move your way over to him, and you grip his chin upwards so you can plant a kiss straight on his lips. Your hand sneaks its way down and wraps around his cock. Preferably, you'd be on your knees and he'd be standing, but you could definitely manage with this.
You break the kiss, winking before lowering yourself downwards. You could feel his gaze on you, analyzing every movement. There wasn't a moment of hesitation in your actions. You gave a gentle, teasing kitten lick to the head, before sinking your mouth down onto his cock.
He let out a low hiss as you sunk down lower and lower. You were always so, so eager to please your partners. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, you reflexively clench up. You shut your eyes and try to focus on your breathing.
As you hold still, you feel him start to roll his hips upward into your mouth. Gradually, Taehyung's pace grew faster and faster. Every time you got the opportunity to breathe, you took it.
"Pretty little bitch, you're good at this. How many times has the little whore done this? Hm?" he taunts.
The words thrill you, rather than upset you. There's always that little moment where you recoil, but for the most part, the words melted your insides. He gave a particular hard snap of his hips, pleasure very obviously boggling his mind.
"You're going to be my slut after this though. Just wait and you'll see," he growls.
You're not sure how true his words are, but the thought that there actually could be something after this makes your insides tingle. It was probably just him being desperate for his release though. You could sense the need in his tone, he was getting close and needy.
At some point, his hand had found the back of your head. He guided you up and down his shaft smoothly and rapidly. "Holy shit," he gasps.
He was unable to quell his moans any longer. Grunts and obscenities flew from his lips. Your hands gripped his toned thighs roughly, finding yourself almost slipping from the rough pace Taehyung was setting.
"Such a good, precious little thing you are. Where were you all of my life?" he knew you couldn't respond but still popped off with whatever came to his mind. The praise urged you to work harder. Except, it only took a few more rotations of his hips before he was hauling you up and off of him.
Before you can even take a breath, he frantically dives forward so your lips meet his in a kiss. It's more of a peck than a kiss, thankfully, because you're still pretty breathless. You take a moment to regain your composure.
You couldn't see yourself, but you were sure you looked completely wrecked.
You felt completely wrecked.
You leaned back on your knees, gazing at Taehyung curiously. He looked just as ruined as you were.
"Want to ride you, Taehyung," you whisper, swallowing thickly.
He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth and shakes his head. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, but I need to work you open first."
You bite your lip, tempted to tell him not to even bother, but you would need it. "I could do it," you respond, gazing up to gauge Taehyung's reaction.
Taehyung seemed experimental, but yet you still worried that he was going to recoil in disgust. The last thing you wanted was him to not be into whatever you suggested. Especially not when the two of you were this far in.
When his expression begins to darken, you don't bother waiting for his words. You're already positioned directly in front of him when he sputters out a 'Sure.'
You felt confident, but your burning cheeks said you felt otherwise. You dipped two of your fingers between your swollen lips, wetting them. You were already rather drenched, but you could never be too careful. Taehyung's eyes were boring intensely into your figure, watching as you grazed your fingers down to your core. You didn't think you have ever been this turned on in your entire life.
You brushed your fingertips over your clit, gasping at the electricity that shot up your spine. You stroked over it again and then added more pressure. You zoned out and focused on pleasuring yourself, quickly forgetting about your surroundings.
Your pace grew quicker and quicker, but before you could add a finger into your entrance, Taehyung came into your view. You wanted to clench your legs together with him this close. He kept his distance for a few moments, but it didn't take long before he was gathering up some of the slick and pressing a finger into you.
"It was a stunning show, but I couldn't just let you perform alone," he rasps, glancing up at you with a wink. Your hips jerk upwards as he sinks another finger into you. You retain your pace, not missing a beat as you snap your fingers over your swollen bud. He curls his fingers upwards, and you cry out.
You were hurling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed.
You can't control the clench of your walls, so you halt the movements of your wrist. You didn't want to come yet, not until Taehyung was inside of you. Before you can pull your arm away, Taehyung snatches it.
"Don't you dare," he scolds. "Keep going."
You whine and shake your head, you were too close. Any more of that and you would b—
He dipped his head between your thighs without warning. If you weren't going to do it, then he would do it. He gave a powerful, broad lick right along your folds. An abrupt moan wiggled its way out of you. He gave a hum of approval and directed some of his attention to your clit.
He hadn't forgotten about the two fingers pumping in and out of you, apparently, because he drove in a third finger.
He bent his fingers upwards, searching rigorously for your sweet spot. You, on the other hand, were more focused on the pleasure being caused by his mouth. Each swipe of his tongue against you had you mewling aloud. It was as if he was trying to gather every drop of slick that had escaped you. Your entire body was thrumming, sparks igniting on every inch of your form.
He rolled his tongue over the nub in circles, and your body arched. "F-fuck!" you wailed, chest heaving up and down.
You were right on the edge, your hands flailed from the ground to Taehyung's hair. Your fingers curled into his locks, holding him to you. He could escape if he really wanted to, but you needed to latch onto something. You find out that he indeed can break away. He withdraws from your soaked center.
With a sonorous tone, he drawls, "Who is it? Tell me what mutt is making you feel this way and I'll let you come."
You whimper out your response at first, distracted by the vibrating pleasure coursing through your body. It's almost inaudible, but his ears twitch and you know he still has managed to catch it.
"What was that? Say it louder, say my name," he demands, pleased with himself and by how you were responding to him.
"Taehyung! Taehyung! You!" you shout, grinding your hips to meet with the fingers that are prodding at your insides.
He smirks, bringing his lips back down onto your clit. He rolls the bud in his mouth again, sucking and rapidly working it with his tongue. His fingers finally find what they were after, and he jabs right into your sweet spot. You're thrown off the edge, and the tears prickling your eyes finally emerge. You clamp your eyes shut and cry out his name. You lock onto every inch of Taehyung you could grasp.
It took a good minute or so before you came down. At some point, you released Taehyung and he made his way up to capture you in his arms. He pressed soft kisses into your neck and rubbed his hand gently over your arm. He brought it up to your cheek, wiping away the tears that had rolled down.
"You okay?" Taehyung's asks, voice gentle and reassuring.
You inhale deeply through your nose and exhale through your mouth.
"Honestly? I've never felt better," you giggle, slightly delirious. You heave yourself upwards and Taehyung lets his arms slip from around you. You glance around you, this didn't seem real in the slightest. This was the most realistic (and strangest) dream you'd ever had.
With you no longer in his grasp, he adjusted himself so Taehyung was sitting on his jacket, legs straight out in front of him. He was leaned back casually, using his elbows as support. You raised an eyebrow and without thinking too much about it, you scoot over to him. His calm expression turns into one of confusion, when you throw your leg over both of his, straddling him.
You still feel a tiny bit out of it, but you were ready to take the steering wheel. Taehyung got the drift and aligned himself with your entrance.
The slide in was like melted butter. One slow, solid sink down of your hips and he was filling you to the brim. You swallow him up excellently, and he spreads your slit so perfectly. You couldn't bite back the moan that eluded you, the feeling of being so full was almost too much for you.
Your fingers dig into his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hands meet your hips and though you're in control of the pace, he lets his hands guide you. Speaking of the speed, you were going tortuously slow.
Not only because you were still coming down from your orgasm. Really, you needed to drag this feeling out forever. He groans as you lift yourself up, and bring yourself back down on him. You rotate your hips, grinding down on him. It doesn't take much more teasing for him to snap. You go to drive your hips down even once more, but he's flipping you onto your back before you can.
He grabs each of your legs and pushes them up near your abdomen. The calm Taehyung is gone, and he is now consumed by lust. He began a steady pace, dragging himself almost entirely out of you, then driving in all the way. Your head was beginning to swim, and there was no halting the faint moans tumbling from your lips.
"I'd bet my next paycheck that you've never felt better than you do now," he hisses.
You don't respond, unable to find the right words. If you weren't so fucking concentrated on his thrusts, maybe you would be able to answer. Well, even if you could think properly, you still were too prideful to tell him he was correct. The rhythm is rough and quick, and the lack of response only provoked him further.
"Oh, and don't worry. I didn't forget the whole 'mutt' thing," he snickers.
You want to argue with him, the mutt thing was only because he started it first. He initiated it by calling you a stupid cat, which was the reason you even fired back. What comes out of your mouth instead of a rebuttal, though, is his name followed by a train of curse words.
"Well? Tell me, kitten? Have you had better?" he gives a particularly deep thrust that produces a yelp from you.
"Fuck you!" you squeak, wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and hooking your hands together behind his neck.
"Aren't I already doing that?" he taunts. "The big bad hound breeding the kitten, what a turn of events."
You gasp, something primal deep inside of you being triggered. You uncontrollably clench around him, the words exciting you. You see his expression turn into one of astonishment. "Oh, you like that? Huh? So you're into being bred? I thought that was just a mutt thing. Yet, I can see it in your expression, you want me to pump you full of my cum. Don't you?"
"Yes! I want it, please," you sob. It felt so... right being underneath him. His weight pinning you down, his arms caging you, and his hips pounding you into the ground.
You were growing closer with every sharp plunge he gave you.
He leans over to your ear and whispers, "Meow for me, kitty. Tell me how you feel about us mutts now, hmm? You want to be a good girl for me, right?"
"I'm a good kitty! I feel s-so good," you whine. It doesn't stop there though, you hurl into another thought train. "This is all for you, everything- All of me, all for you..."
"See? That's right, you belong right here. Mine, my little slut," he growls, shoving his face into the side of your neck. One of his hands moved from the side of your head and downwards. It wasn't long until you found out where his hand had gone. His fingertips met your tender clit, and you couldn't stop the quiver of your hips. You tried to sway from the sensation, but Taehyung didn't let you.
He departed from your neck and changed to hover his lips directly above your mouth. His eyes met yours, and you knew it was over for you. His lips curled upwards in a sinister grin, "Come for me, kitten."
Taehyung's thrusts turned erratic and he began to tremble. He hammered right into your g-spot, and it was enough to send you hurtling towards your orgasm. The heat traveled, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. The coil snapped for a second time that night, and you sang out his name as you came.
A howl of pleasure tore from his lips as he followed.
He wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you to him. It was apparent that he wanted to be buried to the hilt inside of you. His cum flooded you, splashing out around his length. Your mind blanks out, and you don't know how much time passes before he moves.
There's a vulgar, wet squelch that comes from your core when he pulls out.
"Fuck," you hear Taehyung curse as he plops down beside you. Taehyung's eyes are warm when they meet yours. All the irritation from earlier is gone, and his features have softened.
You glance away, staring at the starry sky. You were at a loss for words. Taehyung raises up on his elbow and catches your attention. You can tell that he seems as uneasy as you are. "Was that... okay?" he asks, delicately.
You raise your eyebrows, "Holy shit, of course. Literally, mind-blowing. In fact, I think I'm forever broken because no average person will ever live up to that."
He laughs, "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed that. There's one problem though."
You frown and tilt your head to the side. Taehyung points to the ground, and you notice your clothes scattered about. The both of you had used them as a protective layer over the ground, and now they were probably forever stained by the grass and dirt.
Then it hits you, there was also another problem.
"Oh, shit. We can't just drive home naked... We're going to have to put o-"
You groan loudly, shoving your head into your hands. Who knows how many pieces of grass were you going to find in your clothes on the way home.
#taehyung/reader#bts smut#btssmutclub#taehyung smut#taehyung scenario#bts scenario#hybrid#hybrid au#bts imagines#taehyung x reader#taehyung fanfic#dom taehyung#v/reader#v x reader#DONT COME @ ME THERES A KEEP READING THING
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Coiled Hope Pt. 2
Second part to my fun fantasy monster story using Spectrum and Cinnamon, my darling and I’s nagasonas. This one focuses on revealing more about the world and story, and has some very self indulgent g/t angst and fluff!
When a group of monster hunters attack the mountain during Cinnamon’s hunting lesson, both she and Spectrum Maximus find themselves overwhelmed by the sudden threat. Cinnamon grapples with her fear of the unknown and the desire to fight for her home, inspired by her now giant friend’s fierce conviction and unrelenting protection.
BOOM!
Cinnamon gasped in shock, slamming against the thick trunk of a pine. Struggling, she pushed herself up and resisted the urge to start desperately burrowing into the sodden dirt below.
A few yards ahead, her dear friend and guide to the mountain, Spectrum, loomed. Typically, he was always much larger than her–but now he was positively giant. He had to be standing at least thirty feet tall, and that wasn’t even counting the length of his serpentine tail. Its iridescence was almost blinding now, the apple-reds and rusty oranges typical to rainbow boas blazing like fire and sparking polychromatic as it lashed back and forth like a whip. An unimaginably large whip.
Cinnamon shrunk back, a cold sweat beading on her brow. One second the hunter had her in a chokehold and her tail rope-casted in place, a knife pressed to her throat as she watched a doe, her first prey to bring back to the folk village, skip away… And in the next, the sky was blacked out and her sneering captor was flung into a boulder.
She gazed at the red smear on the rock with a numb sense of relief, the color as deep as poppy blossoms and seeming to grow deeper by the second.
She could drown in that red.
Spectrum looked over his shoulder at her, his sunshine eyes softening as they locked with hers. She gulped and forced herself to hold his gaze, the air seeming to still between them.
“I’m sorry.” Spectrum’s voice held a world of grief all their own. “I didn’t want to scare you… It only gets hard to control if I’m angry, and I was so sure I could never be angry around you.”
“You’re…not a naga, are you?” Cinnamon’s voice trembled. “You’re not like me.” Something small broke inside her.
“Not completely, no. But I can’t explain, not right now. These humans stink of machines, and I think they’ve brought their trash cans with them. I need you to get away, okay? I’m gonna take care of this.”
“Switch the quarry!” A human voice shouted, followed by the mechanical sound of tire treads. The trees shook. “Get the big male! That skin will fetch a mighty good coin. Then we raid for ore!”
Without thinking, Cinnamon shot forward, her body horizontal to the ground as her muscular coil propelled her. “Spectrum, no! We gotta get outta here, come with me!” The terror of losing her only friend outweighed the fear of the unknown, and she rammed directly into his tail, smashing her face into the armor-like scales. “Please! Get small again!”
He smiled down at her, almost as bright as his sunlit scales. “Don’t worry, Cin. I’ll take care of this. I won’t let humans steal another home from–”
The rainbow boa’s words drowned in a sea of gunfire, the sound drowning out Cinnamon’s screams as she desperately tried to burrow herself into him, instinct taking full control.
“I’ve got you.” Spectrum’s voice was as reassuring as ever, but it seemed to hold a murderous glint. Before the little sand boa knew it, she was scooped up and rising higher in his hands, his fingers closing tightly, gently, protectively around her. She pulled her tail closer into her body, the end wriggling wildly with panic. She had never felt so small in her life, even as a newborn in the labs!
Spectrum snarled, lips peeled back to reveal his wicked sharp teeth, his free hand curling his fingers into claws. He pressed the fist enshrouding Cinnamon to his chest, his heartbeat a thunderous echo, and she could hear him steadying his breath. She had only ever seen her friend lazy and smiling, enjoying a nice stew and languidly dipping his tail into the creek while she told him stories from her old books.
Now though, he was all warrior.
“I won’t let you hurt this mountain or anyone on it.” A low hiss built in his throat, completely inhuman and dangerous. “This is my home and you will not take it, hunters.”
She felt a glimmer of pride spark in her chest. Yes, he had always been this warrior, only quietly, softly, kindly. She couldn’t recall a time when his eyes weren’t burning with the conviction she heard now.
She felt her body lowering down and steeled herself against the brief vertigo, squeaking as Spectrum placed her in a thicket of tall grass ringed with startling red poppies. Like the blood… She shook the thought off, looking up and grimacing at the bright red welts covering in his skin. “Thank you.”
For a moment, the lazy smile was back. “Always.” And then he turned, the warning siren of his hiss ringing out and he lowered himself horizontal to the ground, tail arched and ready to lunge.
Cinnamon crouched, her scarlet shawl blending in perfectly with the poppies, eyes wide as she focused on the battle, willing herself to fight her base instinct to flee and instead to be brave.
Two tank like machines, pale blue targeting lights locking onto Spectrum, rolled forward into the clearing and bulldozed anything in their way. Smaller machines, shaped something akin to buffalo and mounted with artillery flanked them, and beyond that a group of humans in metal armor.
Spectrum feigned a lunge and leaned back, his tail sweeping forward in a wide arc and managing to send one of the tanks careening. He slammed the muscular coil down and crushed one of the mechanical buffalo, grimacing and gritting his teeth against the brief electric shock of it.
Artillery pumped at him from all sides, not fatal, but creating little pinpricks that blossomed blood and pain in his flesh. He brought up his coil, the scales much tougher, and used it to block the worst, reeling back and grunting with the effort.
He’s strong, but there’s so many… Cinnamon swallowed hard, breaking a poppy stem in her hand. How can he do this?
One of the tanks whirred with energy, the humans whooping as something unfolded from it’s back. Orange light blazed, bright enough to combat even Spectrum’s shine, and then a loud mechanized shriek sent Cinnamon reeling to the ground from the sheer pain of the sound.
Spectrum roared, the ground shaking as he fell back and gripped his shoulder, the flesh there unfurling like a flower. He grunted as he tore the harpoon missile casing from his wound, snapping the rappel cables and throwing it back at the hunters, crushing a few of them along the way. Blood dripped down his chest and down to his hips, his breath ragged as he pressed a hand to the torn flesh.
Cinnamon began to shift forward, anxious to find a way to help, when a hand snagged her ponytail and began to pull her back. A scream died in her throat as she met the eyes of another hunter, his face calculating as he seemed to assess her in mere seconds. She thought of Spectrum, giant and still vulnerable, fighting an entire platoon of hunters for their home, the other fair folk in the village, for her and felt something ignite.
She didn’t want to cower and burrow anymore–she didn’t want to bow her head and complete tests for a pat on the head and a meager serving of awful pellets. She didn’t want to be stuck in one room her whole life, curling around the legs of her Master–as good as she was–like a common pet. She didn’t want to be hauled off and drugged out of her mind, dumped in the wild to die.
She wanted to fight.
The sand boa twisted around, a sudden hiss building in her chest, just as wild and ferocious as Spectrum’s. The hunter seemed surprised, obviously put off by her soft frame and features. Fat, soft and pampered as she may be though, she was still a fair folk–a monster to humans like him. She still had teeth and claws and coils and rage.
Using the human’s shock to her advantage, Cinnamon rose high on her tail and struck, slashing her claws across the hunter’s face. Blood welled on his cheek as he reared back to slap her, the sudden backhand sending her flying back into the poppies.
Stars exploded in her vision, the white noise of fear returning, but she inhaled and caught herself with her coil, skidding through the tall grass. The hunter was already upon her again–something sharp glinting in his fist–and she twisted away on her tail, gasping as the blade grazed her soft underbelly.
She raked her claws across his back, the man arching with a cry of pain. Before he could turn fully around, she wove expertly around him, giving into a new instinct–hunting. Today was her first lone hunting expedition, after all.
She lunged forward, sinking her teeth deep into the meaty flesh between his shoulder and neck, grimacing at the musky taste of sweat and blood. The man groaned and slammed a fist into her back, right between the shoulders, but she slashed her claws down his arms and only bit deeper, ignoring the thrumming pain from his desperate strikes.
Everything seemed to be coming fluid to her now though, and her tail seemed to have a life of it’s own. Her muscles flexed, powerful and thick beneath the scales and fat, wrapping around the hunter in breakneck speed and constricting him. He gasped for breath, his bones seeming to groan beneath her inhuman strength.
She held him tight in her jaws and coils, feeling as he started to go limp, feeling as something cracked, feeling as the panicked rise and fall of his chest began to slow.
Unease pricked at her, and she fought the urge to kill, to--yuck–consume. She knew she could fight, but wasn’t sure if she was ready to kill. This hunter wasn’t worth the sleepless nights she knew would come. Not yet.
She released him from her bite with a pop, her coils loosening and unfurling. He fell to the ground, breathing shallowly as he looked up at her, blood staining her lips and jawline, trickling down her neck. Pure hatred burned in his gaze.
“Never come back.” She wiped her mouth with the hem of her shawl, her own breath heavy. “This…is a special place. You don’t belong here, and if you come back, I’ll kill you.” The words were fragile.
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but his eyes began to roll back and he slumped forward, unconscious. Cinnamon’s tongue flicked out, scenting the air, and beneath the blood and smoke and sweat, he was still alive.
The sand boa turned, her body already thrumming with soreness from the hunter’s strikes and the slash across her underbelly. She watched as Spectrum roared, overturning the second tank with his tail and grabbing it in both hands, growling with effort as he pulled. He ripped it right in half, hissing as it burned his hands, and quickly caught the small humans trying to leap away.
The rainbow boa flicked one into the trunk of a tree, then let another fall straight to the ground. Cinnamon gulped hard, her gaze falling down to the blood caked beneath her claws.
“Leave, unless the rest of you wish to die too.” Blood dripped sluggishly from the wound at his shoulder, more blood splattered across his fists, the underbelly of his tail, and staining his teeth. His chest heaved with every breath, and despite the ferocity in his eyes, Cinnamon could see his frame shake with fatigue. The projectile and artillery had taken their toll.
Five humans and their mechanical buffalo remained, the machines pacing anxiously behind their masters. One hunter gripped his automatic rifle and stepped forward, voice hard despite his trembling. “We’ll be back. You can’t protect this mountain forever, beast. Where there’s money to be made, humans follow. And once we unlock that portal… Your world will be gone for good, and then we’ll wipe every last one of you off our damn planet.”
Spectrum slammed his fists into the ground, baring his teeth and roaring right in their faces. Their foes flinched and cowered, but as he rose up to his full height, they began falling back and began their terrified scramble down the mountain.
The massive naga closed his eyes, tilting his head up to the sun. It beamed down upon him and seemed to set him aflame, the blood covering his body like war paint. Cinnamon slithered forward, breast heaving with exhaustion, her own war paint now dry and flaking. “…Spectrum?”
He turned, his eyes instantly softening upon her. “Cinnamon.”
She slithered closer to him, tongue flicking out to scent the carnage in the air. “Are…are you okay?”
Spectrum smiled, bending down to meet her. “It’s hard to shrink back down when I’m still…emotional. Can I pick you up to hear you better?”
She smiled shyly despite herself. “Of course. I… I trust you, Spectrum.”
He held his massive hand before her, grimacing at the bloodstains. She chuckled reassuringly, slithering up to it. Anchoring her tail by circling it around one of his fingers, she met his eyes as he began to carefully lift her higher. “Are you still angry?”
“No, I’m relieved it was a small group and they’re gone more than anything, I just…” The corner of his mouth quirked when he looked at her, and she swore he reddened in the face. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you’re okay too.” She squeezed his finger tighter in her coil, now more desperate than anything else to see him smile again. “Those were the hunters you mentioned coming by to try and track our kind? What were they talking about with a portal? I thought they just hunted down fair folk and magic ores…”
Spectrum sighed, frowning. “Well, to start I… I’m the protector of this mountain, Cin. I guess I didn’t tell you because it didn’t seem important, I didn’t remember, but I guess it is…”
“You didn’t remember to tell me you’re the hero of the mountain?”
He finally grinned, sheepish. “Well… I was having so much fun with you, I just kinda forgot. But, where my mother was a naga, my father was a fairy. He was the previous guardian of the mountain, a really powerful sorcerer. There’s a few different peaks around earth that are the epicenters for fair folk communities and refuge, as you’ve seen. They’re the places on Earth that have always had magic.”
“Always?”
“We…are not from the Other, Cinnamon. Fair Folk have been on Earth far longer than humans, but they tried to drive us extinct. Our ancestors created a dimension we could leave to, to be safe. To survive. But…we wanted our world back. Slowly, we figured how to return through portals, and a rebellion began. The Cataclysm sixty seven years ago was the first big strike in taking back our world. My parents were part of that, and guarded this stronghold. They’re gone, but I remain. And so do the descendants of those that cast us out… part of that crew was this particular band of hunters. You can tell by their machines.”
Cinnamon blinked, feeling the new information sink down into her bones. “Spectrum Maximus. Are you one of the leaders of this Rebellion?”
Spectrum’s eyes glinted with pride. “I am. I want this world to be wild again, for our kind to be free and bring life back to this broken earth. I know there are good humans here, like your caretaker, and we do all we can to spare them, show them the truth… But this world is dying. We want to save it. I want to heal it, by any means necessary. Cinnamon, will you…would you fight with me?”
The dried blood on her skin, between her teeth, under her nails, all of it mirrored his own. She looked down, head pounding. “I…I don’t know, Spectrum. This is a lot.”
“It’s okay.” He said hastily, moving her closer to his face. “You… You don’t need to fight. I just want you by my side. We’ve only known each other a few months now, but I feel more…me with you than I ever have. You make me feel like there’s more than the war. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to scare you.”
The sand boa, tiny in his huge hands, smiled, absolutely beside herself. “I feel that way too. You make me feel like I’m worth fighting for… That I can believe in something more than the cage and admittedly very flimsy safety I’ve always had. You make me feel like a person, like I matter just because I’m me.” She leaned back, trying to squint tears away as she pressed her face against the pad of his thumb. “You make me feel safe. Finally, truly safe. Thank you.”
Spectrum blinked, his lips parting before he bent his head down to her. “No, Cinnamon. Thank you.”
The tiny snake blushed, feeling her skin go electric. “You’re the dearest friend I’ve ever had. Whether I fight or not, I’m with you. I want to stay with you.”
And before she knew it, she pressed her lips against his thumb, the digit only slightly smaller than her torso. A quick kiss, sweet and soft, but it held something like the birth of a star, the affection spreading through both of them like sunshine.
Spectrum grinned a dopey grin, or at least more dopey than usual, and blushed right back. His adam apple bobbed anxiously at his throat. “I want to stay with you too. Always.” His mouth hovered over her. “Is it okay if I…?”
She leaned up, pressing her tiny face against the velvet of his lips in answer. An unexpected kiss, an awkward one, but at one glance it was obvious that it was the truest thing each of them had ever felt.
“I love you, Cinnamon.”
“I love you too, Spectrum. Always.”
X-x-X
Cinnamon curled up in Spectrum’s lap, his tail curving beneath her and cupping her against his belly. She pressed herself against the soft pudge and fuzz, enjoying the coolness of his skin and scales against her cheek and arms. He ran a hand through her tangle of unbound curls, eyes closed as their friend, Sassafras the dryad, prepared healing potions for them.
“I can’t believe you ate humans. Five! I thought you said you didn’t eat people!” The sand boa’s tone was accusatory, but her coil languidly intertwined with the rainbow boa’s own. Her soft whites, pinks and browns contrasted with his bold, fiery scales and she was round everywhere that he was all edges–and oh, how they fit together perfectly in their opposition. The most carefully put together puzzle ever made, this newborn love.
“I said I wouldn’t eat you, okay?! And I don’t even like eating humans, but it gets them to run away fast! They see old Todd get eaten up and then they just go running!” He didn’t open his eyes, but his signature shit eating grin was as wide and toothy as ever.
“You’re gross.” She snorted, doing her best to stifle a blush as she pushed her cheek into his belly. Sassafras had bandaged them both up well with cloth and poultices, spending equal portions of time applying salves and tutting over their recklessness.
“Yeah, well you can’t say anything after your street fight with that big guy. I really didn’t know you had it in you! I guess I better be careful about how much I tease you.”
“That’s right.” Cinnamon smirked, flicking his arm and wincing as the bruised muscles in her shoulders strained.
One of Spectrum’s eyes cracked open, a golden half moon. “Careful.” He said, cupping her cheek. “You’ll have all the time in the world to whip my tail when you’re healed.”
Her own eyes fluttered pink like spring blossoms, both their coils intertwining comfortably in a shining, elegant twist of color. Even when the latent magic of his blood wasn’t spiraling out of control, he was still so big, his hands dwarfing her own, his arms enshrining her.
Sassafras turned, wispy curls like vines framing the dark brown bark of her face. Though her mouth was set in a stern line, her eyes glimmered with sweetness. “Alright, this is gonna taste awful, but I need you both to drink it all up.”
“Can’t I just get an infection and go into sepsis instead?” Spectrum joked. “I get a full body shudder when I take your potions and that can’t possibly be healthy!”
“If you don’t want to eat gross potions and have ointments rubbed on nearly every inch of your skin,” she gestured to the welts across his body from the artillery. “And have to wear bandages from being hit by a LITERAL missile, then I suggest you stop running fangs-first right into battle without telling anyone!”
“Okay first, it was more harpoon than missile. Second, Cinnamon was there!”
The sand boa in question winced as Sassafras’ steel gaze turned on her. “Yes, I never thought you would be coming to my tree covered in blood and bruises! This lump of an oaf is turning you into another troublemaker!”
“What can I say?” Spectrum beamed. “I think we make a pretty good pair of ruffians.” She giggled as he ruffled her hair, clutching the free hand on his injured arm gently, reassuringly. Sassafras advanced, balancing two potions in one hand so she could place one on her hip, unable to suppress a smile of her own.
This really was home.
This really was worth fighting for.
#g/t#giant/tiny#gt#monster#naga#lamia#g/t community#implied vore#size difference#gt fluff#gt angst#my writing#coiled hope#extreme cuddling#fearplay
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who: avery lee, marley rose, veronica york.
when: sometime after thanksgiving.
where: a coffee shop, then a park.
what: a confusion leads to a very public and dramatic scene, but ends up with three friends made and a tentative couple.
"You will like this place" Marley's smile was warm and bright as she lead Avery to a table inside the small coffee shop. The both of them had taken a break in their days, thankful that Chicago paparazzis weren't big on following people, and had found that little corner to spend some time together. Marley could not be happier that they could hang out, specially after the disaster that was Thanksgiving. "We could come here more often" The brunette pay no attention to the door of the place opening, too content with spending time with Avery to notice her surroundings.
For Veronica, the story was completely different. She was taking on the phone, already brining her own cup of coffee since she hated the cheap version they sold in this sort of places, when her ex-girlfriend had appeared in front of her yes. After everything she put her through for not wanting to move to America, there she was, happily talking with some common looking girl. It made her see red in a second and before she could thought better about it, Veronica went closer to their table. "How dare you to be here? How the fuck do you have the audacity to move here after fucking everything?" She knew she was making an scene, but she couldn't care less. "Was all of that a lie? Were you coward enough to lie just so you could get ride of me? Are you that fucking low?"
Although she had been living in Chicago for a while now with the rest of the group, she hadn't really had the time to sightsee, to find a restaurant or coffee shop that could brighten up her darkest days. When she mentioned that to Marley, it was almost as if a spark had lit up within her, her eyes had brightened and she'd gotten so excited to take her that she couldn't help but smile as well and allow the older girl to show her her favorite place. It was nice, of course, quite quaint but homey all at the same time. As much as she liked the Rose family - even the troubled younger Rose - Avery would much rather spend her time with Marley; they just clicked in every way and she never found herself wanting to be elsewhere.
They'd been laughing at one of Avery's on-stage mishaps when a woman came up to their table and started berating her. Her smile quickly faded and her brows furrowed as the woman cursed, making a scene in the quaint café. "I..." Avery trailed off, unsure of what to do. "I apologize, ma'am, but I think you've confused me with someone else." Avery was shocked, looking around the café and hoping no one would take out their phone and snap a picture of the moment. She was unsure if this was some paparazzi trick or if Felicia had put her up to this as a prank of some sort; it seemed like the sort of dark humor Felicia would find amusing. "Would you like to take this outside, ma'am?"
Veronica couldn't believe the nerve that Hye-Jin had to deny knowing her. Was it because of the girl she was with? If Vero was someone else, she would for sure believe the sincere confusion on her face, but she had been around her ex-girlfriend enough to know that she was the best actress in the world. It was making her anger boil and as soon as the words came out of Hye-Jin's lips, Vero's hand found life on it's own, landing right on her ex girlfriend's right cheek.
The place stayed in complete silence.
"You can play stupid as much as you want Hye-Jin, but absolutely everyone here is gonna know the utter piece of crap you are. Specially that stupid girl that you are tricking. What has she told you about me?" Her eyes moved to Marley. "That I was the insane ex that wanted to bring her to America? What excuse did she make to be here after she lead me on for five fucking years?"
Marley didn't understand what was happening, but she only knew that she was too stunned to reply to anything that the other girl had said apart from "Her name is Avery" She whispered lightly, hiding her lips.
Although the impact of the other woman's hand against her cheek hurt, it was her sister's name falling from her lips that made Avery tear up. She and Hye-Jin had been inseparable growing up - sisters, best friends, partners in crime. "Ji-Hyunya" Avery would hear her say, the youngest Lee allowing herself to be vulnerable, "- we'll always be best friends, right?" Avery wanted to keep that promise, but with the time difference, Hye-Jin's growing resentment that she wasn't in America and was in South Korea instead, and all of their inabilities to travel for years thereafter... well, needless to say, they hadn't been in contact in years. Avery had been twenty years old the last time she'd been in Korea; neither her mother nor her sister wanted to talk to her, neither of them ever said they were proud of her.
Hye-Jin had been bitter and resentful; it was no surprise that she'd hurt the woman before her.
Avery was broken out of her thoughts when she heard Marley whisper something, her cheek now hot both from the pain and embarrassment. Marley had witnessed all of this. She sighed, looking around the café and shaking her head when she noticed someone had pulled their phone out. Avery hoped that Mr. Harrison would be understanding and wouldn't punish her if this were to be posted online.
Sniffling, Avery pulled her ID from her purse, showing it to the woman. The woman was clearly hurt, angry, and everything in between; she hoped this would help her see that she'd gotten the wrong twin. "Hye-Jin is my twin sister" Avery said in her native tongue, feeling quite odd about speaking in Korean to someone other than her father, "she lives in Korea with my mother. I'm Ji-Hyun. I'm guessing she and mother never spoke about me." She quickly switched back to English, so Marley would understand what was happening. "I'm sorry my sister hurt you."
Veronica had never loved anyone in the way that she had loved Hye-Jin. Her entire heart beat for the other girl and then sun shinned because of her; she was everything Veronica wanted and loved, just to be taken away in a second. The other girl had never felt the same, not as strongly, but she was drawn to her like a fly, being too close to the fire but being unable to move away.
Avery, the other girl had called her and she had to smile, thinking in how the lies had gotten even bigger with time, until she was actually pulling an ID that said the same. It did not make sense, a twin sister?. Since fucking when? Neither Hye-Jin or her mother had mentioned anything, but it was true. "That doesn't make any sense" She was so confused, hurt and embarrassed and she now couldn't help but see the way some people were recording everything that was happening. "I... I'm so sorry"
Marley had stayed away from the whole thing, unsure in how to react, but it was enough. Surely, the girl stood up and made her way to Avery, softly pressing her hand against the other's arm. "I think it's best if we leave, Av" Her eyes moved to the other girl, trying her best to offer some kind of smile. "Since this has all being a misunderstanding, I think it would be for the best if we talked in a more private space. Would you like to come with us?"
Avery could see a million emotions in the other woman's features and she couldn't help but feel for her, knowing Hye-Jin had continued the life she'd built as a bulldozer with no regrets - running over everything in her path and leaving nothing but destruction behind. When Marley said it was time to leave, Avery nodded and slowly stood up as she took a deep breath, knowing that since she was a public figure, she needed to do some damage control. "I apologize for the misunderstanding" she apologized softly, though loud enough for the patrons and employees at the coffee shop to hear, "everyone's meals are on me." She made her way to the register and pulled out five one-hundred dollar bills, handing them to the cashier. "- for the inconvenience and ruckus I've caused. I apologize. It won't happen again." As always, she took blame for everything; she'd been taking the blame for Hye-Jin's antics since birth... why not continue it now?
Walking over to the other two brunettes, she plastered a small smile on her features and motioned toward the door. She and the woman had much to talk about, but she felt much safer and comfortable with Marley there - she hoped the older woman would stick around, though she wouldn't blame her if she chose to go home instead after witnessing everything. "There's a park nearby or we can go to my apartment." She couldn't look at the other woman in the eyes anymore. Avery didn't want to see the pain and hurt again. "Are you free, Marley?" she asked, hoping she would say yes but giving her an out if she didn't want to join them, "or do you have a writing session this afternoon?"
Marley watched as Avery went to pay for everything, smiling softly at the antics of the other girl. It was just an Avery thing to worry about everyone's level of comfort, when she was the one who had being slapped just moments before. "Is she saying the truth?" Veronica's voice brought her back to where she was and nod, sighing lightly. "She is Avery, I can tell you that for sure. I also knew that she had a twin back home" Av had mentioned her in passing, nothing too specific and now Marley saw why. "I'm sorry you had to go through this."
Veronica didn't understand how these girls could be so nice to her after what had just happened. They had no fault in whatever messed up situation she lived with Hye-Jin, and now she had publicly embarrassed this Avery girl for nothing. Yet, neither of them were screaming or hating, but offering her an understanding she wasn't sure she deserved. "A park would be alright" Being out in the public would give her some kind of patience to deal with this whole thing.
Marley was surprised that Avery would even ask that, considering she had no intention to go anywhere. "I have nowhere else to be, don't worry about it" Slowly, Marley took her hand and intertwined their fingers, giving it a little squeeze to show her support. She would be burning red in another situation, but there was no time to those sort of things. "Let's go then"
Even though Avery was still embarrassed and her cheek was still warm from where the woman had slapped her, she couldn't help the genuine smile that pulled at the corner of her lips when she felt Marley intertwine their fingers. It was just what she needed right at this moment, something to ground her, especially since she knew she was about to have a tough conversation with a woman who'd been hurt by her twin sister. As they walked to the park in silence, her hand still in Marley's, she thought back on the woman's words and pursed her lips as she remembered her mentioning her sister leading her on for five years. Five years. The woman wanted Hye-Jin to move to America with her, but her sister had refused and Avery couldn't help but wonder why. Avery sighed at the thought and led the other women to an empty picnic table nearby.
Before the woman spoke, Avery cleared her throat so she could speak first. She knew the woman would probably apologize again, though there was no need for that. Avery understood where she was coming from. "My father and I left South Korea when I was young. I've lived here since then - well, Los Angeles, not Chicago. Hye-Jin remained with my mother in Busan and then moved to Seoul years later after mother got a promotion. As we grew up, we drifted apart. Hye-Jin was bitter that I was here, I suppose, that I was living my dream... she became someone I couldn't recognize. She resented how our lives had turned out." Under the table, she reached for Marley's hand again, giving it a squeeze before she addressed the woman across from them again.
"I haven't spoken to Hye-Jin in years. I'm not surprised she hurt you, though. She always hurt the people closest to her. I apologize for that. You seem like a lovely woman and I... well, you don't deserve whatever she did." She paused, smiling as she held out her hand. They hadn't even had time for introductions. "Lee Ji-Hyun. Avery, here in the States. I wish we'd met under different circumstances."
Veronica wanted nothing but to run away as fast as she could from these two girls, specially from the one that looked so much to the girls that haunted her nightmares. She thought she was over the whole thing, a horrible thing that happened in the past, but the way that she had reacted told another story completely. The girl was still hurt, maybe she always would be, for what Hye-Jin did to her. It wasn't only the way it ended, between screams and angry words, but the way the other had always thought about what they had as nothing permanent. She always knew Veronica would move to America and she never said anything, until there was a ring and a proposal and the only word that came out of her lips was no.
The walk to the park was silent, her eyes moving from the floor to the way the other two walked beside one another. They seemed happy with each other and Veronica was happy that at least, Avery had some sort of support in this horrible moment. Why were all those people taking pictures of her? God, what have she done? She didn't have time to wonder about it, because then Avery was telling her story and it all made sense in a way it never did before. That was the reason, and it only made Veronica more ashamed of what she had done, specially when the other girl seemed to be nothing but extremely nice. She couldn't help but stare at the hand that was offered, in complete disbelief that she could be forgiven that easily. "I slapped you" Her voice was strained and she could barely keep it together. "I hurt you and you are so nice, god, I'm so sorry" The sob came out of her lips without her being able to stop it. "You... You just looked like her and I embarrass you in front of all those people"
Marley couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for the stranger girl and she could do nothing but stand up and wrap her arms around her, eyes moving over her head to see Avery. "It was... Not very nice of you, but Avery is fine. Everything is fine, we understand, right?
Avery shook her head when the woman apologized, hoping that she wouldn't continuously beat herself up over a simple mistake and misunderstanding. There were a lot pieces missing so Avery couldn't put the whole picture together yet, but she knew that the woman had been hurt tremendously by her sister; she couldn't blame her for seeing red as soon as she saw the face that had hurt her. "You don't have to apologize" she tried reassuring her, though she knew it would take more than simple words to get her to change her mind, "I know she hurt you. You saw me and thought I was her and you just reacted. Anyone would've done the same thing."
A smile pulled at her lips as Marley got up to comfort the woman, nodding at her words and offering the woman a small smile. "Everything is fine, I promise. We understand." She realized that some people were looking at them, and she couldn't help but sigh. This was going to be everywhere. If it wasn't because she had been slapped at the café, it would be because she was holding hands with Marley. Again, she had to hope Mr. Harrison would be understanding.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Avery asked, though she didn't really want to hear what her sister and mother had been up to. Then again, she wanted to make the woman comfortable and distract her, hoping she wouldn't notice people around the park looking at them.
Veronica felt better in Marley's arm, feeling a comfort she hadn't let herself get since the whole incident happen. Once her proposal had been denied, she had gotten all her stuff and flight away alone, leaving her old life behind. Friends, family; everything that could remind her to Hye-Jin was left forgotten in the back of her mind, ready to never be brought up. Here in America, it was all about her work and the new friends she had made at work, nothing else. Still, these two girls had opened a door that needed to be open.
"I asked her to marry me and she said no" It was hard to look at Avery when she said it, but Veronica did her best. Beside her, she felt Marley's eyes holding her a little bit tighter. "She said she would never move to America and I didn't know why but... I guess I know now" She cleaned her tears with the back of her hand, trying to compose herself a bit. "I didn't even now you existed and I'm just... So sorry to both you and your girlfriend. I really am"
Marley's cheek went from normal to red in an instant, but she gave Veronica a warm smile. "It's fine, there is really nothing to be worried about. We have all cleared the air" She refused to look Avery, probably because she would combust if she did. "But we should warn you about... There may be some reporters that will come to ask you things at some point"
Avery sighed, recognizing how hard it must be to talk about Hye-Jin when she looked the same as her. In some ways, she felt guilty. Guilty because she'd been so wrapped up in wanting her dream to come true that she immediately jumped at the opportunity to live in America. Guilty because her father wanted her dream to come true as well, but he knew how hard it was to become a pop star in Korea. Guilty because she wouldn't change her mind, no matter how many times her mother and sister begged her to stay and begged her to get her father to change his mind. Guilty because she left them behind. Guilty because she was thriving.
Cursing her fair skin, Avery felt her cheeks and ears heat up at the assumption that Marley was her girlfriend. Neither of the two corrected the woman, and Avery didn't know what to make of it. Instead, she nodded. "You really should stop apologizing, you know? It's not your fault. We've cleared the air and I know why you did what you did. I know what happened. I know what led you to see red when you saw my face. I'm okay with it." Her cheeks were still warm, her ears felt like they were on fire. As much as she wanted to comfort the woman, she couldn't help but wonder if she and Marley actually did look as if they were in a relationship.
"Ah, yeah..." clearing her throat, she looked around and frowned. People were still looking at them. "Everything will end up online in a few hours. You'll be recognized, I'm sure. I apologize for that. I'll talk to my manager and boss and hope to put a statement out by tonight. Just, uh... make your social media accounts private for a while, yeah?"
Veronica knew that her confusion and shook were presented and showing on her face, mostly because she didn't understand what they meant. Marley kept looking around to the people that was looking at them, but Vero didn't understand why other people would be hating her over this. "What? What would it end up online?"
Marley was a bit surprised that the other girl didn't recognize Avery, but she guessed not everyone was too into the pop scene. "Avery is part of a band and they are very well known. They are actually really good" She couldn't help but flash a grin at her friend, or well, her girlfriend apparently. "Sometimes fanbases are a bit harsh so that's why we are telling you this. We wouldn't want this to be a problem for you"
Veronica was surprised and managed to make a little bit of smile. "That's really nice. I didn't know, I'm sorry again. I'm... I work as a classic pianist and I don't really listen to music with actual lyrics. That's kind of why I'm on the loop"
Avery could feel the tips of her ears burn when Marley mentioned that the group was 'really good', clearing her throat as she tried not to smile too wide. "She's being modest, you know..." she trailed off, though she kept her eyes on Marley the entire time, "she's one of the reasons we've become so popular. Everyone seems to love the lyrics she writes for us." She couldn't help but gush; maybe she'd make Marley blush too. Avery couldn't help but sigh after a moment, though. "I'll try to calm the masses, I promise."
She perked up slightly when she mentioned piano. "I played piano for a while, until I was eighteen or so and everything was kicking off for me professionally." She wondered what had brought her to Chicago, of all places, but didn't ask. They barely knew one another. "I'm impressed. Piano is... difficult."
Unsure of what to do about the situation, she debated with herself for a moment but stayed put. It would probably make things worse to try to comfort her, especially since she looked like her ex. "I hope we can at least be acquaintances?" She asked, her tone showing she hoped for just that. "I know it could be difficult for you and I'd understand if you'd rather not, but... I think we can get along."
Marley was surprised to hear Avery mentioning her being modest but the rest of her explanation made her blush instantly. "I try to write my best lyrics for you guys" God, what was she doing? Flustering so hard for comments that her friend made on daily basis, but now with other person present, it felt completely different.
Veronica thought it was sweet, that the two girls were so into each other. It was literally obvious for everyone that would see it from the outside. "It is difficult, but I've been playing since I was five, so I barely notice it anymore" The keys were part of her now, just like her fingers were. In fact, sometimes, she felt incomplete when she was away from her instrument.
"I'd like that" Her smile became more sincere, letting out a sigh of relief. "I know we don't know each other but you have been really kind about all of this. You both have" Veronica turned to look at Marley, offering her a smile as well. "I'd like to have some friends here in Chicago"
Avery couldn't help the small smile that pulled at the corner of her lips when she realized Marley had gotten as flustered as her by a compliment, a few words that she'd said to her before. She glanced at the other woman, wondering if this exchange made her believe even more that she and Marley were dating - a fact that she didn't mind.
"Maybe we can play something together?" Avery chuckled at her own suggestion, adding, "-though I can't promise I'll actually be good." Even though they'd met through unfortunate circumstances, the hope for a new friend made her smile. "We can hang out. I may not know Chicago as well as I know LA, but I can try to show you around." She reached across the table and squeezed her hand softly, "You have two friends here. I promise."
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SENTENCE MEME ⟶ THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY / CHAPTERS 00 –– 03
always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse. some perspective / pronouns have been changed to better fit for sending.
“Orbiting this small unregarded yellow sun at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.”
“The planet has a problem which is this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time.”
“Lots of people were mean, and most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches.”
“She finally knew how the world could be made a good and happy place.”
“This time is was right, it would work, and no one would have to get nailed to anything.”
“A terrible, stupid catastrophe occurred, and the idea was lost forever.”
“It was probably the most remarkable book to ever come out of the great publishing corporations of Ursa Minor.”
“It was set in a size and proportion which more or less exactly failed to please the eye.”
“The thing that used to worry me most was the fact that people always used to ask me what I was looking so worried about.”
“I always used to tell my friends it was a lot more interesting than they probably thought.”
“The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was quite a big one.”
“I began to suspect that I was hungover.”
“He vaguely remembered being angry about something, angry about something that seemed important.”
“He was out of the house and lying in front of a big yellow bulldozer that was advancing up his garden path.”
“[Name] was, as they say, only human.”
“He was forty, fat and shabby, and worked for the local council.”
“He was by no means a great warrior. In fact, he was a nervous, worried man.”
“You can’t lie in front of the bulldozer indefinitely.”
“I’m game. We’ll see who rusts first.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to accept it.”
“He didn’t know why –– he just liked axes.”
“Obviously someone had been appallingly incompetent.”
“You were quite entitled to make any suggestions or protests at the appropriate time, you know.”
“You hadn’t exactly gone out of your way to call attention to them, had you.”
“It’s not as if it’s a particularly nice house.”
“Shut up and go away, and take your bloody bypass with you.”
“You haven’t got a leg to stand on and you know it.”
“I’m often bothered with visions like these and they make me feel very nauseous.”
“Have you any idea how much damage that bulldozer would suffer if I let it roll straight over you?”
“There was something very slightly odd about him, but it was difficult to say what it was.”
“He’s eccentric, but harmless.”
“Evenings like this usually end badly.”
“Fifteen years was a long time to get stranded anywhere, particularly somewhere as mind-bogglingly dull as the Earth.”
“I know how to flag flying saucers down and get lifts from them.”
“Is there anywhere we can talk?”
“It’s vitally important that we talk and drink.”
“I’ve got to tell you the most important thing you’ve ever heard.”
“You’re going to need a very stiff drink.”
“He usually played to lose.”
“Can we, for a moment, assume he hasn’t come to his senses?”
“Get up and let the man lie down.”
“I felt like my whole life was some kind of dream.”
“The mere thought hadn’t even begun to speculate about the merest possibility of crossing my mind.”
“The best drink in existence is the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.”
“Six pints of bitter. And quickly please, the world’s about to end.”
“The barman didn’t deserve this sort of treatment.”
“No one could understand what he was smiling at them for.”
“Would you please tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”
“Reader’s Digest has a page for people like you.”
“Did I do anything wrong today, or has the world always been like this and I’ve been too wrapped up in myself to notice?”
“How would you react if I said I wasn’t from here after all, but from a small planet somewhere in the vicinity of Betelgeuse?”
“Do you think it’s the sort of thing you’re likely to say?”
“I never could get the hang of Thursday.”
“A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker could have.”
“A towel has immense psychological value.”
“It hardly makes a difference at this stage. Let them have their fun.”
“You vandals! You home wreckers! You half-crazed Visigoths!”
“I couldn’t believe the conversation I was having.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do about it then?”
“I thought that if the world was going to end we were meant to lie down or put a paper bag over our head or something.”
“I’ll have you hung, drawn and quartered! And whipped! And boiled until you’ve had enough.”
“A sudden silence hit. If anything it was worse than the noise.”
“There’s no point in acting all surprised about it.”
“You’ve had plenty of time to lodge any formal complaint and it’s far too late to start making a fuss about it now.”
“I’m sorry, but if you can’t be bothered to take an interest in local affairs that’s your own lookout.”
“Apathetic bloody planet, I’ve no sympathy at all.”
#rp meme#roleplay meme#sentence meme#sentence starters#starter sentences#KIND / SENTENCE.#KIND / IN CHARACTER.#BASED ON / LITERATURE.
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Gift-fic for bessie-bass (because she has all the best headcanons)
She’d barely given two minutes thought to the tweet- that was the really frustrating thing. She’d meant it as a joke- it’d been born from a moment of mild frustration, sure, but she hadn’t meant anything bad by it, she’d typed it out in less than a minute before tossing her phone aside and going back to work.
‘Love having my costume purloined at the last moment- perhaps I’ll grab a spare queen dress next time I need to do laundry lol’
It had been barely a day later when the director had pulled her aside and asked if she’d looked at her feed lately. Of course she hadn’t, and said as much- she’d been working more or less nonstop to ensure everything was going smoothly with the new alts….and when he’d brought it up on his own phone, she felt suddenly sick.
People were so ANGRY- so many tweets, direct and indirect, all telling her that she was awful, rude, disrespectful, that she was trying to ‘erase’ the queens and their alts, that she was giving herself undue importance, that she should be GRATEFUL that she could be of help to someone so much more important than herself….
And then the others, wishing her every sort of pain, graphic descriptions of what they wanted done to her in retribution….
Watching her face, the director closed the tab after a couple of minutes but she’d had more than enough time to get the gist of it. She felt light headed, like she was in freefall.
What had she done?
Perhaps her distress was obvious- the ticking off was brief, but it still stung: not least to be scolded like a child but to be blamed for the response, as if it had been something she wanted.
The injustice of it all roared in her ears and drowned out at least half of the lecture- when she realised that input was expected from her, she mumbled and apology and fled to the dressing room, grateful at least that it was a Sunday and that the theatre was relatively empty aside from her and few others putting in extra hours.
Sitting down at her station, she tried to refocus herself back on her work but thoughts buzzed round and round her head like angry bees- humiliation, guilt, anger….and under all of it, she just felt sad.
People she didn’t even know, would never know, were somehow angry enough at her to want everybody to know….and the thought made her feel very alone.
Suddenly, she wanted Cathy- to see her or even just hear her voice, to be able to remind herself that at least one person wasn’t angry with her, that at least one person didn’t think she was bad. The strength of her feelings was surprising and disconcerting too. She wasn’t used to needing people (she wasn’t used to having people to need) and it made her wonder if she’d become weak, if getting used to having Cathy smile at her and ask about her day had stripped away some of her self reliance.
It made her wonder if she should resist calling or texting- if she should push through the sadness like it was an addiction until she just stopped feeling altogether….but after a few minutes of pretending to make notes, she had snatched up her phone and was keying in a message.
‘Hi. Sorry to bother you. I hope you’re not busy.’
Her hands shook as she pressed send- and then it occurred to her that perhaps Cathy wouldn’t even have her number saved and added a quick ‘This is Joan btw.’
It was only after she sent it that it occurred to her that not identifying herself would have allowed her some leeway to make comforting excuses to herself if (when) Cathy didn’t reply….but almost immediately, her phone buzzed with a message.
‘Not busy and not a bother- what’s up?’
Then, quick on its heels: ‘I knew it was you silly, I have your number saved!’
It was nice, she found, the image of Cathy actually saving her number into her contact list (the idea of her number being included in the list of Cathy’s actual friends, as if she was no different from any of them).
She agonised over what to put- she didn’t want to explain exactly but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to put up a good front and pretend she was only texting to chat. Besides, she never texted for nothing. Still though-
She composed and deleted half a dozen responses- and then her phone started ringing, surprising her so much that she nearly dropped it.
‘Hi!’ Cathy sounded bright, cheerful- not as if she needed her free afternoon ruined by Joan’s stupidity and neediness. ‘What’s up? Thought I’d just call rather than waiting for you to reply-’
The chiding was of the very lightest, most friendly sort- and yet it was also much too much for Joan’s current state: the implication that she had annoyed Cathy on top of everyone else (the idea that she was frustrating her, irritating her, using up her patience) was something she just couldn’t deal with.
She gave a little gasp and burst into tears.
Straight away, she tried to find the button to end the call- she didn’t want Cathy to hear her being so pathetic (Cathy wouldn’t WANT to see her so pathetic)- but her tears made everything blurry and her hands were shaking too much to work properly.
‘Joan? Joan? Are you there?’
Cathy’s voice sounded tinny through the speaker but her tone was unmistakably frantic. It gave Joan pause that she sounded so concerned- and she immeadiately mentally berated herself for (selfishly) giving her closest (only) friend worry over something so stupid.
She tried to take a deep breath as she pressed the phone to her ear.
‘I- I’m here- I’m sorry, I-’ Another sob almost choked her.
‘What’s the matter sweetheart?’ The warm concern in Cathy’s voice was like honey. ‘Can you tell me what’s wrong?’
She had intended to lie and pretend to be ok (she had surely forfeited her right to comfort for being so dramatic) but instead she found herself pouring out the whole stupid story in a teary, hiccupy rush, while Cathy hummed and made soothing noises of understanding into the reciever.
‘-and now everyone hates me, and it’s just-’ She pressed a hand to her eyes as she finished, already dreading Cathy’s reaction. ‘- it’s just all ruined….’
‘Oh you poor poor thing.’ Cathy sounded so very loving, it was enough to bring fresh tears to her eyes- it was unbelievable to Joan that she didn’t sound even a little bit cross or annoyed. ‘That all sounds dreadful sweetheart, I’m so sorry-’ There was a pause and some tapping and Joan realised she must be at her laptop. ‘I haven’t even looked at twitter in days-’ Suddenly her voice was louder, indignant. ‘Oh my GOD….they- Oh Joan! I can’t believe they- it’s so-’ The fact that Cathy was speechless made Joan feel a tiny bit better: it was nice to know that perhaps she wasn’t overreacting, that other people were horrified too, that Cathy was clearly not holding her to account for how things had turned out (perhaps Cathy didn’t think she deserved it).
‘They’re…..a bit irate….’
She wanted to sound funny but it just came out as a flat little whimper. It was too hard to mask how absolutely crushed she felt- as if someone had pulled out her insides, as if she was collapsing in on herself.
‘They’re AWFUL!’ Cathy sounded angrier than Joan had ever heard her. ‘The fact that they think they can treat you like this, especially under the guise of ‘protecting’ us….I’m going to write a tweet right now, let them know EXACTLY what I think of them….’ From how fierce she sounded, Joan almost felt sorry for anyone to catch her ire. ‘I wish I had them here now so I could really make them sorry-’ Suddenly, she paused, perhaps remembering that she was still on the phone.
‘Joan, sweetheart, where are you?’
The question took her by surprise. ‘The theatre- why-?’
Cathy sounded a bit surprised. ‘Well I’m coming to get you. Obviously.’
There was nothing obvious about it to Joan- she tried to protest.
‘It’s your free day though- you shouldn’t have to waste it on me!’ She brushed at her swollen eyes with her sleeve. ‘I’m fine really- I just needed to tell someone but I’m ok, I don’t need-’
‘Joan.’ Cathy’s voice cut through her rambling. ‘You’re definitely not fine. No one would be fine.’
‘Yes but-’
‘I’m coming to get you. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to and I’ll take you straight home if you like, if you want some space but….you really should take some time to relax.’ Cathy’s voice was insistent but soft, fond. ‘You work too hard. You need a break.’
‘Honestly you don’t have to, I can get a cab or walk or-’
‘Now-’ Cathy carried on talking as if Joan hadn’t even spoken. ‘Why don’t you go and wash your face, get some tissues and a drink of a water and make yourself comfy in my dressing room until I’m there? I think I left my sweater on the sofa- did you remember to even take a coat with you?’
There was an embarrassed silence that answered her better than words and Cathy laughed quietly. ‘Thought not. Put it on, if it’s there and get yourself settled and I’ll be with you in a little bit ok? And then I’m going to get you home, run you a nice hot bath so you can relax, make you some hot chocolate and we’ll pile up some pillows and blankets on your bed and watch a movie or something ok? Something to take your mind off things. Sound good?’
It sounded so very good that Joan found herself actually nodding into the phone, as if Cathy could see.
‘-and you’re going to actually eat something for dinner that’s real food’ Cathy continued. ‘Because I know you haven’t been taking proper care of yourself lately, what with all the new cast and everything. And you’re going to get some sleep at some point, because if you haven’t been eating, you probably haven’t been sleeping-’
(It occured to Joan that Cathy could perhaps be compared to a bulldozer. A very tiny, very soothing blue bulldozer.)
‘-and I’m not going to leave until I’m sure you’re ok again. And then….’ Cathy’s voice takes on a slightly sinister edge. ‘I’m going on twitter because I REFUSE to let them treat you like this. And also at some point there is a tv series I want your opinion on. But that can wait til you’re up to it.’ She takes a breath. ‘Sound like a plan?’
Joan wanted to protest again, to tell Cathy not to waste her time, to enjoy her free day and not worry…. But somehow she heard herself giving a very quiet assent to Cathy’s plan, and when the other woman arrived at the theatre half an hour later, slightly breathless and armed with a thermos of hot tea, a tube of eye gel and a bag of Joan’s favourite Malteasers, she found Joan wrapped up in her big blue cardigan and sipping a glass of water.
Just as she had ordered.
#HOLY F U C K OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH#THIS IS SO CUTE#YOU WROTE THEM SO WELL!!!!#first of all#the subtle nods to the recent drama was 👌 it honestly fits joan really well#the director fucking griping at joan for it was also a nice touch#she doesnt deserve that at all but I love that angst#then her wanting to talk to her friend 🥺🥺#I absolutely LOVED cathy’s reaction!!#like oh my god she is gonna kill someone#and I am HERE FOR IT#everything about this is perfect and adorable and I love it so much!!#thank you so so much I dont deserve you or this 🥺🥺#this was really sweet of you to send it#it made me so happy#thank you 💖💕💘💗💖💕💘💗💖💕💘💗💖💕💘💗#submission#not my writing#six the musical fanfiction#six the musical fanfic#six the musical tour#uk tour six#tour catherine parr#tour joan on the keys
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