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abbyshands · 3 months

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for you

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♡ synopsis; making a home out of catalina island for years on end had been wonderful, but for most of it, you had been derived of the last piece of the puzzle: abigail anderson. you were a skilled medic, so when abby had showed up, you had cared for her, and nursed her back to the girl she was, helping her to heal, and to find home the same way you had. now, it’s abby’s chance to return the favor.

♡ pairing; abby anderson x fem!reader

♡ warnings; lot of game references, some of which include infected, the WLF, plot of the first and second game, loss, violence, etc, general angst (ish) in the beginning, but fluffy at the end, i promise, reader loses her dad in the backstory, and there’s a heavily established backstory for the reader, abby uses nicknames (my love, babe, gorgeous), reader calls abby baby, just general angst n’ fluff tbh!

♡ a/n; sooo this idea has been sitting in my notes app for the longest time, and to be honest, i’m not sure how i feel about the finished product! i don’t think it’s my best work? i don’t know. i like the idea but i’m unsure about the way i executed it. maybe i’ll revisit it at some point, but this is what i’ve got for now ♡

anyway ,, this is for my ray, n’ my ray only. happy bday, gorgeous! i genuinely can’t get enough of you, and getting to speak to you on a daily basis is such a fucking privilege to me. i’m so lucky to say you’re a part of my life, n’ i wouldn’t trade you for the world. i hope you like this, @andersonlore <3

♡ wc; 4.5k

divider creds !

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS. APOCALYPSE.

If someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, you would’ve checked them for a bite mark.

Because they would have been losing their mind.

2034, and all the years beforehand, were years unforgettable. The person you were couldn’t imagine a life that wasn’t the one you had. Infected roamed, and danger lurked. But love prevailed.

And you were lucky to be a part of it.

You were born in Boston, Massachusetts in the 2010’s at an unlucky hour. To an unlucky life. You had lost your mom before you could say your own name, and the only biological family you had ever gotten to know in your life was your dad, who was the reason you were where you were today in the first place.

When you were young, your dad joined a group once asked to by the leader of it, a woman named Marlene. Since then, and for as long as you could remember, this group has been your place to call home.

They called themselves the Fireflies for the very bug they took the name from: Their goal was to spread luminescence in a world full of darkness. Your dad, who was an incredibly skilled medic, was roped into it when you were younger, for that very reason. And because of the group’s dire need for medics at the time, their leader, Marlene, who was an old friend of your dad’s, asked him to join, all but begged him to, really.

Your dad wasn’t one to deny anyone in need. It was in his nature, and it was why he was such a great medic. So, of course, he agreed.

But only if there would be a place for you, too.

Your dad raised you up as a member of the Fireflies, and then later as a medic, and it was because of him that you were who you were: A resilient individual, a survivor, and yet, a person who embodied compassion, just as he did.

The years went by hazily, the older you got, anyway. You became just as immersed into your work as your dad did, bettering your medical knowledge on a daily basis, be it by old books, rusted cassettes, or your dad himself. But all the while, you managed to balance work, love, and family, and, in a world like this one, that was a lot more than most people could say.

For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember the 2010’s. Then came the 2020’s, which sped by your eyes. But the 2030’s as a general consensus were years ingrained into your brain. Full of friendship, family, and love? At times. But they also encompassed chaos, despair, and pressure, and changed your life forever.

And forever was a long time.

In the year 2033, all that you believed was true about the world as you knew it, crumbled to the ground. In a land following an apocalypse, it wasn’t uncommon to feel as if there was no way out, as if the life you lived had hit a place of no return.

Now, if only there was a way to fix it. A cure, right?

It was late one evening while you were working on somebody in the Fireflies’ medical center, that Marlene came into the room, expression serious, and voice showing for it. Once you had the person you had been caring for under control, you followed Marlene out of the center, and into a room of a pair of people, one familiar, and one not.

Your dad, and a man who would later become a crucial figure in this tale: Surgical expert, Doctor Jerry Anderson.

You didn’t understand what Marlene, your dad, and Mr. Anderson, as you used to call him, were getting at when you were first pulled into that room. All that they were explaining to you was blurring inside of your head.

Because it was unlike anything you had heard before.

Your ears were told a tale that you had heard on numerous occasions. A girl who was only a few years younger than you, was bitten. You weren’t sure how. But it didn’t really matter, did it? Everyone who was bitten turned into an animal in a matter of days. It didn’t matter how she had gotten the bite mark. It didn’t even matter where on her body the mark was. All you knew was that in a few days, this girl that was being described to you, would no longer be human. That she would no longer have control over her body, and she would no longer know right from wrong, up from down, man from woman. All she would know, was kill. Kill. Kill.

Unless she was one in a million.

Ellie Williams was hardly a human in your mind when you originally heard, but a God given chance, to fix the world as you knew it. You never believed you would live to see the day where a bite mark was a good thing, and yet, it was here, gazing you in the eyes.

Immunity. She was immune. The auburn haired girl had been bitten three weeks prior to the date you heard about this, and zilch. As Marlene had explained to you, it was like the mark was healing, not worsening.

And in a desolate world, where danger lurked every corner, where sorrow was normalized, and where loss was ceaseless, you were desperate. The Fireflies were desperate. Hope like this didn’t come on a daily basis, now, did it?

You jumped on the prospect as soon as you became conscious of it. All of you did.

Graciously unaware that it would blow up in your face.

In the earlier days of 2034, Ellie was smuggled to a Firefly base in Salt Lake City, a medical center, where your dad, Mr. Anderson, and several Fireflies were residing. As head medic by this point, you decided to remain in Boston caring for the members of your group back home, especially in the absence of your dad and Mr. Anderson.

It’s your life’s biggest regret.

Marlene had asked that you come to the Salt Lake City medical center as soon as you could, and to employ someone else to take over for a bit. Mr. Anderson was a good doctor, but he had decided that to perform proper surgery on Ellie, he would need a few more hands. You were honored that it was you he had chosen. To you, it was on the same level as getting an award. And so, alongside Marlene, and a few more members of the group, you made your way to Salt Lake City, your hopes in your hands, and dreams in your heart.

There was a point during the journey, however, where you ran into some trouble. Infected. And naturally, you were not just a medic: You knew how to survive in a world like this, and you knew how to hold your ground.

Splitting up wasn’t usually recommended when it came to any scenario, and for good reasons. However, it was your only choice. You and everyone beside you aside from Marlene, split up to make sure that she was the first one to make it to the medical center. You remember the last thing you said to her like a movie on loop in your head. See you soon.

And it plagues your brain like the virus that grips your world.

See you soon. You wish you had never said it. You wish you had never split up.

You wish it hadn’t happened.

You did see Marlene. But she was no longer alive when it happened. Fear grasped your bones as your body paralyzed, eyes glued to Marlene’s bloody corpse on the second floor of the medical center’s parking garage.

Tears filled your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And then, you remembered.

Dad.

You took off running, brain not even processing that you could be putting yourself in danger by doing so. Whoever had done this to Marlene couldn’t be faraway from the building for all you knew. Hell, they could even be in it. But you didn’t care.

You booked it to the highest floor, where your dad and Mr. Anderson were supposed to be, heart racing, begging and bargaining to the universe, or whatever God there was, or somebody, to ensure that they were okay. That they were just fine.

There are some days where you wish you hadn’t opened that door.

The pair of them, alongside a third medic in the room, were found by you in a shape similar to Marlene. Naturally, you ran to dad first, small, shaky hands reaching out to flip over his face down body.

But you were too late.

Your mind goes blurry whenever it goes back to recall the memory. You don’t remember much: Tears, nausea, shaking, panic. You remember screaming, loudly, at that.

And you remember passing out, before being pulled out of the room.

The second that Jerry Anderson was announced dead, all hell broke loose, and you knew, you knew, it was over. The chance that had been driving you and your family of Fireflies for the last year, was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. Unless a brand new surgeon was going to generously drop from the sky, you were hopeless.

And it wasn’t even just that.

Because the universe had taken from you the one person you held closest to your heart. To your soul.

Dad.

You had a chance. You all did.

And, then, it was robbed away from you.

You and your dying group made your way back to Boston knowing just that: That you were collapsing. The days passed by in blurs, each one gloomier than the last. You just weren’t sure what to do anymore. All hope for a cure was gone. All hope for yourself was gone.

In 2036, the Fireflies were disbanded by what little members of it were around to do so, and that was it. It was over.

Your home was paradise, and paradise was gone.

You didn’t know what to do. Most of the family you had found here in the Fireflies was leaving, searching for a life away from the one you all had known for years. You didn’t know if you wanted to do the same. Part of you wanted to follow suit and leave Boston. Renew who you were. Adapt, and move on. But Boston had always been home, and by leaving it, you were leaving a part of you behind.

But you didn’t have a choice.

It was an early morning in 2036 when you began to pack your bags, readying to go. Where? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that home or not, Boston carried way too many painful memories, way more than you could bear. Marlene was dead. Mr. Anderson was dead. Dad was gone.

You didn’t see what else Boston had to give, that it hadn’t already taken away.

But just, just, when you were about to say your goodbyes, the universe, who had screwed you over in the past, clearly had different plans.

A few members had heard word, from previous members who had left the Fireflies before you, that on the west coast of the country, there was a chance: A chance to find home again, in a place named Catalina Island, a gorgeous land in California.

Risks had failed you before, and so had second chances. But, for once, you wanted to give in. You had to.

So you did.

That’s not to say that the second you got to Catalina Island, finding home once again in your fellow Fireflies, who were just as shattered as you were, that your tale was over. God, it was really, really far from it.

Because there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Abigail Anderson.

Anderson. The last name rang a bell once it escaped her lips. A blonde woman, body bruised, bloodied, and covered from the arms down in oozing gashes. Her hair was short and poorly cut, and from the way her bones were pushing into her skin, you could tell that she was severely malnourished.

Alongside her was a boy, obviously younger than her. Tousled black hair, bruises wherever you looked, and fully unconscious. In your time at Catalina Island, and as a Firefly in Boston, for that matter, you had never seen any pair of people in worse shape.

Not unless they were dead.

You remained head medic once you arrived in Catalina Island, naturally, and you had been managing that way for the last four years. So, when this woman showed up, this young boy by her side, like this, it was you who took control. It was you who nursed them, and it was you who made their scars, in a physical and mental sense, not disappear, but easier to handle. To bear.

By looking at them, by looking at her, it was like a mirror. You saw you.

Which is why you saw her.

Now, if someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, losing your dad, losing Marlene, and losing Mr. Anderson, but falling for his child, you would’ve looked for a bite mark. But now, come the year 2040, where you had made a new life, one that Abigail Anderson was a prevalent part of, happiness no longer seemed impossible.

Because it wasn’t far away anymore, slipping from your fingers, the way it had on numerous occasions.

It was in your hands.

And you were in Abby’s.

Your eyes were being covered by Abby’s large hands as she led you to a place unknown. You had to assume it was one of the several beaches on the island, sand under your feet, sounds of waves in your ears. A smile had been plastered across your face for what seemed like hours, as Abby dragged you along.

“Come on, Abby. Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?” you asked her for the second time in the last minute. You could hear her low chuckle from behind you, and the way it always happens, comfort surges into your veins.

You had learned from Abby, once you bonded over the mutual loss of your dad and hers at the same man, that once Mr. Anderson had been killed, her and her friends, a few former members of the Fireflies, joined a group named the WLF. You had hence learned that during her time there, she was commonly known as a rugged, scary person, who a lot of people in the WLF didn’t dare insult, nor disobey.

And you couldn’t lie: It was hard to believe that for a second.

You had learned from Abby, also, that her resolve began to slip when she met the young boy who she had made it to Catalina Island alongside, who you had also taken care of: Lev. To put it simply, Lev was a member of a different group, that the WLF was never supposed to come across.

Not unless it was in war.

But he changed her. He did. Some days, you could see how guarded Abby was, how she couldn’t help going back to all she used to know, which was being all but barbaric when she was in Seattle. Closed off, wary. But most days, like today? You knew in your heart, that deep down in hers, Abby Anderson was good. Not innocent, but good.

And that was enough for you.

“Just come on!” Abby chuckled as she walked, not letting up her hold on your eyes for a second as she led you along.

You smiled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “I have work to do back at the center, and we’re not supposed to be roaming around like this. You know that, right?”

“Babe,” Abby responded in an almost firm tone of voice as her feet quit moving, forcing you to root your body to the spot. It was silent, before she pressed a series of sweet, sloppy kisses to your neck and cheeks, managing to keep her hand over your eyes all the while. She had you crumbling just like that, making you a giggling mess as her lips met your skin.

Her kisses subsided once a million of them seeped into you, and it wasn’t the island heat that had your face warm when Abby was done. “Can you just trust me, please?” she laughed, and you didn’t need your vision to know she was giving you that puppy dog look that had you falling to your knees every time. The one that you couldn’t resist if you gave it your all.

You were too easy. “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before you and Abby reached where she wanted to bring you, and once you did, she paused. She was perched behind you now, large hands over your face, the solacing sound of her sighs coming into your ears. “Okay. Are you ready, my love?”

There wouldn't ever be a day where Abby calling you that wouldn’t make your heart pound in your chest.

“More than,” you easily respond.

As soon as you said it, Abby returned your vision to you, and your eyes can’t help but widen at what you see before you.

Because you never pegged “rugged” Abby Anderson as one for picnics.

“Oh, my God, Abby,” you said more to yourself than the blonde as you slowly approached the scene. Laid out on the sand of the beach was a picnic blanket, a folded blanket, a few pillows, a basket, a few books, and playing cards.

Accompanied by a perfect view of the beach.

“Do you not like it?” Abby asked, and there’s an air of sadness to the way she says it. You turn to look at her on cue, your face one of complete, utter disbelief.

Like it?

“Like it? Baby, I love this. More than know,” you respond, meaning every word. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to care for you. A long, long time, since you had been the receiver, not the giver.

“Abs, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You can see Abby blushing as you approach her and take her face into your hands, her freckled skin burning in heat. She leans into your touch, pressing her forehead onto yours, and holding your hands in her own.

“I just,” Abby sighed, opening her eyes once more to meet yours, solemn expression across her cheeks. “I just don’t feel like I cherish you enough, babe, show it, that is. Because believe me, I do cherish you. S’just, it’s been hard for me to show you how much. All that you did for me and Lev when we got to the island. Taking care of us. Helping us find a home here. I’ll spend the rest of my life saying thank you for it.”

You can feel your soul healing the more Abby speaks.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what you did for us, and I wish it was. But I just figured, maybe. . .it could suffice for now.”

“Abby, baby,” you let a small laugh escape your lips as you say it. “You don’t have to make it up to me. At all. I did what I did, because I saw someone in you. I remember asking for your name, and you responded by asking me where Lev was. You didn’t even care what shape you were in. All you wanted to know was if he was okay. You reminded me of me.”

“You reminded me of dad.”

You couldn’t help but sigh, letting silence seep into the air around you as your brain battled to process what you had just said. You didn’t speak on your dad as much as you likely should: Abby knew that, and so did you. Talking about him made your chest compress, and your throat would fail you, making it feel as if you were choking. As if you were helpless. As if you were there all over again. But Abby knew as well as you did, that when your dad came into discussion, it was for a certain reason.

And for that reason, Abby didn’t speak: She hung fire. For you. For you.

“We live in a world where people combat their own morals just to survive. There’s no good guys. No principles, no rules, no laws. Anyone you come across is just as bad as you, and if not, they’re worse. But when I saw you? I knew. I knew that wasn’t you. Not anymore.”

You know you’re rambling by now, saying whatever comes to mind as soon as it does, but you can’t find it in you to care as you go on. “You want to believe I don’t know how much you care for me. But you don’t need to show it, Abby. I know you do. Right here.”

You take one of Abby’s large hands into yours, and as cliché as it is, not that you care at all, you place it over your heart.

“You feel that, don’t you? That’s all for you, baby. And it’s there that I feel how much you care about me. It’s there that I know.”

The same silence that was here before comes back. But this time, it’s not sad, or dark, or eerie. It’s solacing. It’s warm. It’s home.

And Abby doesn’t need words in order to respond.

It’s her turn to take your face into her hands as she pulls you in close. Her lips meet yours like they have so many times before, her familiar scent hitting your nose as you settle your hands onto her hips. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but passionate, and a burning desire surges inside you to never let her go, to always hold her close. To always call her yours.

You pull back from the kiss once you tire from it, gasping, Abby’s body mimicking yours as she does the same. You gaze into her eyes, the pretty blue ones that always make your heart swell, smiling up at her as you press one last kiss to her lips for good measure. “I adore you, Abby Anderson. You know that, right?” you grin.

It’s the first time you ever hear her giggle. “Me more than you, gorgeous.”

You spend hours there alongside Abby, and it’s the best time of your life. You spend time indulging in a few snacks the blonde packed for you, playing cards, and running around and playing in the sand, smiling all the way. You even get to hear Abby read to you, one of the most endearing things in the world, accompanied by the calming sound of the ocean before you. And when it came time for sunset, you sat down beside Abby, gazing on as amber, ochre, and rose faded into night.

It was perfect.

When it was nearly time for the evening to come to an end, you used the second blanket Abby had packed for your shared night to cuddle up beside her, heads rested on the pillows she had carried along as well. The side of your face was pressed into her chest as you gazed into the sky above you, Abby’s hand rubbing your back in slow circles to console you. Small suns coat the evening sky like sweet, powdered sugar, accompanied by a full moon that looks incredible over the horizon. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean, alongside Abby sighing gingerly every once in a while, or her pressing kisses to your forehead.

Not that you needed much more than that.

Suddenly, the sound of Abby chuckling in your ears snaps you out of your head, and you turn your face upwards curiously. Abby’s smile makes you smile, and it’s no surprise you began to wonder what the blonde woman found so funny all of a sudden.

“Remember how I told you Lev and I had to cross those bridges that were really high up?” Abby asked, and you had to raise an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. “Mhm,” you mumble, which is when Abby goes on.

“Well, before that, we had to get there by foot once we got out of the aquarium I told you about, the one I used to go to all of the time. That part of Seattle is overrun in rushing rapids, so a lot of the buildings around there were a lot more demolished than they usually would be anywhere else,” she explained.

“And, well. . .”

“We walked into this building, and there was a painting of these dogs playing cards. And I asked Lev if he knew our dogs could really play cards like that. Then he asked me if anyone found me funny,” Abby laughed. “It cracks me up whenever I remember it.”

She wasn’t the only one laughing. “Sounds like Lev. And like you,” you smile, and the tale makes you recall a humorous memory of your own. “Once, I was working late at the medical center back in Boston. I was doing research on this girl who had been feeling sick, but I wasn’t sure by what. Mind you, it’s late, and silent, if you don’t count me flipping the pages in my books.”

You giggle just remembering it. “It’s the weirdest thing ever, but my dad was really good at making Clicker noises. Like, really good. Sounded so real it made your heart drop. I was reading when I heard it, and I remember wondering how the hell infected had gotten inside. ‘Course I grab what was closest to me, a scalpel, and I swivel around.”

“And it’s dad.”

That one got Abby to burst out chuckling. “Oh, my God. Of all the things you could get, gorgeous. A scalpel?”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully so. “What can I say? I’m just a medic. I didn’t carry a gun.”

Once Abby’s done laughing, which seems to take forever, she smiles down at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead as if to make up for poking fun at you. You cuddle closer into her, letting your body relax in her embrace as a sigh escapes your lips.

You fall back into silence soon enough, eyes glued to the sky as Abby rubs her hand over your back, holding you like you would fade away if she let you go. You run your fingers through her short hair as you press kisses to her neck, jaw, and face, giving her all the love you know she deserves. Your eyes scan her features like she was molded by some higher power, and you can’t help but want to worship her, endlessly.

Not just for what she looks like. But for who she is.

“My baby. It’s like you were made for me, you know?” you whisper in Abby’s ear as your eyes pierce into her blue ones. But Abby’s head shook quickly.

You can predict what she’s going to say in response. “No, gorgeous.”

“It’s you who was made for me.”

—

reblogs are very much welcomed! <3

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chelseasdagger · 7 months

Text

Teacher - Chapter II

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader

Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation

Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 6.6k+

Previous Chapters: I

Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.

You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what��s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”

Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.

Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.

“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”

Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.

Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.

Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.

“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.

“You wanna come over?”

It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.

“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”

You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.

“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”

As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.

Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?

But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.

“Can’t wait.”

You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.

The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.

The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.

Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.

You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.

“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.

He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.

If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.

But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.

“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.

“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.

“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”

“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.

“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”

You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.

“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.

“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.

Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.

His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.

“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.

“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.

His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.

You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.

“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.

“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.

“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.

“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.

“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.

He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him.

“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.

His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.

He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.

“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.

“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Really? I didn’t even notice…”

“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.

“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.

“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.

“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.

“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.

Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.

There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.

You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.

“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.

Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.

The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.

The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.

Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.

Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.

Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.

“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.

“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.

You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.

Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.

Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.

A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.

The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.

You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.

The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.

You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.

Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.

Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.

“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.

Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.

“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.

“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.

“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it��s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”

“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you.

“What?”

“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.

There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.

The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.

“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.

“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.

“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains.

He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.

You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.

“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.

“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.

“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.

“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.

“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.

“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.

“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.

You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.

Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.

Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.

“Did you get home okay?”

“Since when do you drink?”

“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.

“You have to tell me everything!”

Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl

#6K ON A CHAPTER WHAT?! i've never written this much at once!! take this as my gift for taking so long!!#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fanfic #chelsea writes

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captain-joongz · 2 months

Text

Cream soda

Pairing: non-idol!Baekhyun x f!reader

Genre: annoyances to lovers, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: Baekhyun eats your pussy in the backseat of his car. That's pretty much it.

Warnings: reader is a little bratty at first, subby reader, dom-ish Baekhyun, dirty talk (i am so weak for this man, i didn't even have control over what came outta his mouth), some allusions to slight humiliation, overuse of petnames, fingering, oral (both f and m receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, cum eating

A/N: okay, this was a little unplanned. i was just watching exo cream soda moments and then suddenly thoughts of this man wouldn't leave me until i put this into words, so enjoy this impromptu piece as a little gift inbetween the scheduled content

„Ugh, I should have hitched a ride with Kai and Sehun,” I muttered under my breath as I side-eyed Baekhyun behind the wheel loudly belting out effortless high notes along to some pop song playing on the radio. The man in question giggled with his high voice and continued singing even louder, throwing amused looks my way with a mischievous smirk.

“Come on, princess, I know you love spending time with me,” he teased, lips shaping into a sly grin and eyes flitting between me and the road. I scoffed and folded my arms over my chest and looked out of the window sulkily.

“Yeah, when you’re quiet,” I murmured, which made Baekhyun laugh at me again and continue amusing himself with singing. I wouldn’t admit it to him out loud, lest I inflate his already humongous ego even more, but I did find myself awed with his voice every time he just casually started singing as if he was paid to do it. Outwardly I scowled, but I did like to listen to him when he did, which was always, as it seemed the man was incapable of shutting up.

Me and Baekhyun were kind of distaste at first sight. I’d gotten to know Kai in a dance class I took up in my free time and he occasionally came in to teach, and we made friends right away, the young dancer’s shy and genuine personality making it impossible to not love him. Before I knew it, I spent most of my Wednesday’s classes giggling away in a corner with him, trading stupid jokes and laughing at tom-foolery we came up with. I was kind of hopeless at dancing, but Kai made it so much fun I just loved coming back every week even though I knew I would definitely never learn to dance as he did. He was the one who taught me having fun and loving that I’m moving is more important than trying to be perfect, and I approached those classes with a free spirit and desire for a good time.

In time I started hanging out with Jongin even outside of those Wednesday’s evenings and gradually was introduced to most of his friend group, most of the time hanging out with him and Sehun, occasionally Chanyeol tagging along.

When I finally met all eight of them, it was at Jongin’s birthday party. I was sat next to Junmyeon, holding polite conversation with him about our respective careers, when Baekhyun arrived. Really, I could hear him long before the door even opened, but when it did, it was pure chaos. He waltzed in, dressed to the nines, screaming something and immediately running over to the youngsters and hugging them. For the whole evening, no matter where I was sitting or who I was talking to, there seemed to be a constant Baekhyun hum in the background. I could just always hear him and even though I barely talked to him, I knew everything he said to every single person in the room, because he was just incapable of speaking at a lower volume. And even worse, his energy and aura just drew my eyes and I found myself slipping and watching him interact with others, all wide smiles, silly antics and loud laughs. By the time I was walking home through the night city, the sound of his teasing voice and carefree giggles were ingrained into my brain, ringing like an echo even though I was long gone from his company.

So, the next time I was invited to another event with all of Jongin’s hyungs, I went in already a little annoyed with the man, which was made even worse by the fact that I got stuck sitting next to him. He would tease me, joke about everything I said and randomly butt into conversations I had with others. After hours of sitting next to him, I was at my Baekhyun limit.

Now, with time as we hung out more as a group, I’d gotten more used to him and even found myself laughing at his shenanigans, but my pride didn’t allow me to show it, especially since he started teasing me about being so uptight and never joking around with them. I would just find myself immediately ticked off anytime I could see his eyes fall onto me and that infuriating self-pleased smirk spread on his lips, brain already coming up with ways to embarrass me (I wasn’t actually embarrassed, and I had a feeling Baekhyun knew that otherwise he’d stop, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. I guess there’s just a lot of things I wouldn’t admit to him.). I enjoyed our little “rivalry” and learnt to balance Baekhyun’s wild energy with cold stares and deadpan delivery of sarcastic remarks. All in all, we actually worked quite well together.

That being said, I still did find him annoying. Especially when he rolled into events dressed in a way that accentuated every little attractive detail about him (and there were many) and threw his trademark smirks with hints and teases of tongue at anyone he pleased. I’d seen him in so many white or black tees that either perfectly showed off his biceps or teased his chiselled chest, with pretty necklaces and chains that drew attention to his neck and sharp jawline. More often than not I found myself going absolutely crazy with just one look at him, only to immediately want to smack him the moment he opened his mouth. Being around him was always just a whirlwind of confused lust and irritation.

Tonight was no exception.

Around new years there started to be talks of taking one extended weekend in the spring, renting out a nice loft somewhere in the woods and going there to drink and have fun. When the time came, we only had to decide who would ride with who. I originally was meant to go with Kai and Sehun, but they both wanted to take their girlfriends and in the end I couldn’t squish into the car with them, even though we tried. I attempted to ask the other boys, but mostly their cars were completely full with either people or supplies and couldn’t take on more baggage and an extra person. At this point Baekhyun stepped in and offered, because he had a car (I did not, I rode a bike most days and didn’t get a license for cars) and even though he originally planned to go with Chanyeol, it would be easier for him to go in his own and take me too. I reluctantly agreed. It was one thing to be spending time with him when there were other people present, but being shut in the car with him for hours, I had no idea how much I would be able to take.

I knew I was in for a wild ride (pun not intended) when he showed up dressed in washed out jeans with white streaks and splashes, white tee and a black lather jacket with snakeskin motive, his usual chains and necklaces contrasting with his smooth skin, teasing his neck and collarbone, and his white and black hair styled perfectly around his sharp beautiful face. He was leaning against his sleek black car with a smug grin and my knees were weak the moment I spotted him. So here I was, hours later, listening to him sing his heart out while looking like a fucking model and annoying the shit out of me.

It was already dark outside and I was getting antsy. We should have been getting closer but somehow our destination was still god knows how many kilometres away. I was hoping we could get there in time for dinner and a good night’s sleep, as tomorrow we a had lot planned, but several hours and two turn-backs later I started giving up hope.

“Are we even getting closer or are you just going to keep me in this car listening to your singing for the entire night?” I grumbled sharply and Baekhyun turned to me with a self-assured grin.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon,” he answered with a wink, “you’re pretty grumpy when you get hungry, I’d prefer to feed you before I get my head bitten off.” Just then his phone beeped and the maps app started flashing a warning that he was no longer getting any signal and couldn’t be tracked. I groaned loudly while Baekhyun just cursed at it and pulled over at the first available spot. We were currently somewhere in the mountains, on the tiny little winding roads with little space. According to the surroundings, we should be close to the cabin, but for the love of god we just couldn’t find our way there, and the reason was the stupid fucking phone Baekhyun was currently furiously tapping while cursing under his breath. I sighed again and watched him lose a battle to the piece of technology.

“I swear I’m usually a really responsible chauffeur, it’s just because my phone is broken,” the white haired man said with a little nervous laugh, “It seems to be having trouble getting signal and therefore the GPS doesn’t work.” I just looked at him wordlessly, tired and annoyed, and raised my eyebrow.

“Okay, Miss Mad-at-the-world, pull out your phone then, let’s use your GPS,” Baekhyun joked, but I could hear an undertone of annoyance in his voice, which made me instantly angry. I did pull my phone out and unlocked it and then tapped with my finger to the right top corner. It read 10 % battery. This time it was Baekhyun who groaned loudly and then hit his head lightly on the top of the steering wheel.

“Well, then this might be the end of our journey,” he admitted sheepishly, “at least until my phone starts cooperating again.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I growled, the anger finally getting the better of me. Baekhyun looked at me sharply, his squinted eyes showing displeasure at my tone.

“I’m not happy about it either, you think I wanna be stuck in a car?” he spit back, just as fired up, “I’m hungry and I wanna sit down on a couch and watch a movie.” I threw a glare at him and then turned around to stubbornly look out the window, continuing my grumbling.

“God, I knew that driving with you was going to be trouble, I should have just pushed my way into Sehun’s car,” I mumbled petulantly, admittedly acting just a tiny bit like a little kid, “This is all because of you and your stupid broken phone.”

At this, Baekhyun groaned, his head thrown back hitting the seat as his hands flexed into the steering wheel. I watched it unfold in the reflection of the window and suddenly found a spark of a different heat running through my veins. I shuddered and squeezed my thighs together, surprised by the force of the unexpected arousal. Baekhyun was none the wiser, as he launched into an angry spiel.

“God, why do you always get so angry with me?!” he asked incredulously, “Every time I think we’re finally getting better, you go and get annoyed with me for no fucking reason! Even Jongin came to me and asked if I did something to you and you just didn’t want to tell him! I had to very embarrassingly explain to him that I didn’t know either why you just seem to hate me and only me!” Shame flooded me at my behaviour and I realised that of course everyone else seemed to pick up at my weird attitude when it came to this man. I truly found myself regretful at how genuinely upset Baekhyun seemed to be about not knowing what he did to irk me, especially since it was mostly my problem with how he made me feel than him actually doing anything irksome, but at that moment my brain was so overridden by lust that I couldn’t even tell him anything, because it felt as if I was melting and I couldn’t muster up a single thought except for how much I wanted to fucking jump him, months of repressed longing coming to the surface after I’d had to spend hours watching him be effortlessly attractive while driving.

“So tell me, what did I ever do to you?” Baekhyun exclaimed and turned to look at me, only to promptly freeze. I was already looking at him, having abandoned the window the moment he started talking, and suddenly anxiousness filled me at his expression. I was breathing quite hard and hoped it wasn’t as loud as I feared, the blush spilling over my face down my neck.

Baekhyun must have seen something in my unguarded expression, because suddenly he was relaxing into his seat, his previous anger and frustration melting into a smug smirk. I nervously fiddled with the edge of my skirt, embarrassment flooding me.

“I see,” he purred, his eyes flitted over my figure and filled with desire, “I understand now.” Then he abruptly leaned over to my side, one of his hands falling onto my thigh and gently squeezing, the other leaning onto the top of my seat, fingers tangling softly into my hair. Before I could stop myself, I let out a quiet little whimper, thighs squeezing on instinct, trapping his hand halfway between my legs. It felt as if our faces were just millimetres apart, breath mingling and lips almost brushing each other. I was entranced by his eyes, darkened by lust, expression suddenly sharpened by the arousal that was palpable in the air.

Then he chuckled, a shit-eating grin slipping onto his face, and pulled away. I took a deep breath, suddenly realising I stopped when he descended into my personal space. Baekhyun gave me a cheeky wink and started unbuckling his seat belt. Before I even processed what was happening, he was stepping out of the car into the dark.

When I wasn’t moving, he bent down a little and looked at me through the open door, the grin still held fast on his face.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Get into the back seat.” His voice kept the teasing lilt, but there was a rough undertone to it and it did something to me, heat spreading rapidly through every pore of my being. He stepped back and the door slammed shut. Before I could think about it, I unbuckled as well and launched myself back through the little gap between the seats. When Baekhyun opened the door, I was already sitting there, waiting for him with wide eyes and mouth agape, hair and clothes messed up from the struggle and breathing heavily. He froze for a second and then started laughing as he crawled in onto the furnishing.

“How eager,” Baekhyun purred, his beautiful face twisting with a little twinge of aroused savageness, clearly getting off on my obedience and lust. I felt my pussy throb at his words and the tone of his voice, fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs in anticipation.

“Lay down on your back, princess,” Baekhyun instructed me and started taking off his leather jacket, his gaze following my every movement as I started shuffling to make enough space. I ended up having to spread my thighs to make enough space for the kneeling man, but still had to awkwardly lean my head in a sharp angle on the door behind me. This had my skirt falling back and basically revealing my black underwear to his hungry eyes.

I whimpered again, hands flexing in my lap, inadvertently bunching up the fabric of the skirt even more. At the sound Baekhyun’s gaze snapped to my face, a predatory smirk on his lips painting him in a completely different light than I’d been used to. For some reason I was expecting him to keep his light-hearted teasing persona even in bed, so I was wholly unprepared for this sudden dark lustful aura that seemed to consume him from the inside out.

Knowing he had my full attention, his hands suddenly grasped my ankles, startling a gasp out of me at the unexpected contact, and then his fingers lightly, teasingly made their way up to my knees. He tapped there a few times, watching their journey fascinated, before they continued on down the inside of my thighs. My legs twitched a little, a gush of wetness hitting my now completely soaked panties, while I waited with bated breath for his next move.

“You should have told me sooner, baby, I would have fucked the attitude out of you months ago,” Baekhyun’s voice rough with arousal suddenly rung out through the silent car and hit me to my core, cunt tightening around nothing at the lewdness of his words.

Before I could even reply, his hand pressed onto my wet clothed heat, fingers teasing the slit with slight pressure, and I moaned loudly, back arching off of the seats. My body was reacting to his presence and touch so viscerally it would almost scare me if I had the mental capacity to think about anything else than his fingers near my pussy.

I watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes trained on his hand playing with my panties, a whimper falling out of me when I imagined it between my legs. Baekhyun didn’t seem to be paying me much attention, rather focused on feeling out my pussy through my underwear. His other hand discreetly moved down his own body and squeezed his crotch, a shudder wracking through his body, eyes falling close with a pleased little sigh. I replied to the sight with a moan of my own, my mouth falling open as the last of my thoughts trickled out of my mind and were completely replaced by the vision that was Baekhyun pleasuring himself in front of me.

He peeked at me, watching me from under half-lidded eyes, the smirk on his face turning a little sharper. I was a little embarrassed by how easy it was for him to completely deconstruct me to a whimpering mess, and he barely even did anything, but clearly it was doing wonders for Baekhyun’s ego as he was exuding smugness while looking down on me. It made him look so powerful, like me and my pleasure were beneath him and I should be glad that he was even touching me in the first place, and that thought made me moan again, eyes rolling back into my head as I arched and pressed my pussy more onto his fingers.

He chuckled and obliged, pushing my panties to the side and running his fingers through my wet slit, thumb circling my clit while two of his fingers played with my entrance. I moaned and gasped, my whole body trembling with delicious tension as the waves of pleasure finally hit me full force.

“Please,” I gasped out, pussy pulsing with Baekhyun’s incessant teasing, “God, Baekhyun, please do something.” His fingers suddenly plunged in, but I was so wet and ready, they went in with no problem at all. A high pitched moan left my mouth and I gripped the edge of the seat. Everything seemed to spin along with the circles Baekhyun’s thumb was doing on my clit and I felt my sanity slowly slipping away, as the tingling feeling filled my whole body.

His fingers were just perfect, thick and a little bony, pretty and elegant, filling me in a way I was craving for months, and as he started unhurriedly pumping them in and out, I gasped and sighed and moaned with the mounting pleasure. For a moment I let myself be carried by the wave, eyes closed mouth opened just riding the burning feeling coiling in my belly, but then he stopped and pulled his hand away. Before I could stop myself I whined, long and drawn pitiful sound that made Baekhyun teasingly sneer at me with delight.

“Don’t cry, princess,” he whispered, voice rough and deeper than usual, “I’m just trying to figure out what you need.” With that he shifted and my attention was brought back to the bulge in his own pants, but he snapped his fingers, drawing my eyes back to his face. I felt myself blush at the open hunger and amusement in his gaze, knowing what I’d been looking at.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” Baekhyun continued, leaning a bit forward so he could look down on me with more of an impact. I whimpered and my thighs spasmed. His hand grabbed onto one and stabilised it with a soft caress. “Do you want my fingers? Hmm?” he asked with a faux curiosity on his handsome sharp face, “Or maybe something else?” His tongue poked out of his mouth again and unwittingly I gasped and nodded slightly before I could even think about it.

Baekhyun’s face crumpled into a smug smirk again, all sympathy draining out and getting replaced by pure hunger and lust. A bolt of desire pulsed through my entire body so strong I was surprised I didn’t physically jerk. Then he bent slightly over, kissing the skin of my knee. His eyes, ever so vigilant, watched hungrily for my reaction, and when I gasped slightly and tensed in his hold, it seemed to satisfy him enough. Slowly his lips made their way down the inside of my thigh, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses in their wake, until he reached my quivering centre, still covered by underwear.

He latched onto my clothed pussy, tongue pressing into the slit, putting pressure on my clit and licking around the edges of my panties. I tensed again, whole body shaking and anticipation and excitement flooding through my veins. But Baekhyun was suddenly in his teasing mood again and after a few moments of playing around with my clit with the tip of his tongue, he pulled away again. I didn’t even have time to whine though, as he immediately grabbed my underwear and swiftly pulled it off, leaving my pussy bared to him.

Instead of diving in, he chose to take the same path down the other thigh, but this time he was a lot less gentle, rushing down the expanse of the skin, leaving little bites and groaning lightly into the flesh, until he once again found himself buried in my pussy. The shock of his tongue licking a long stripe from my entrance up to my clit made me heave out a loud breath on a groan, body convulsing.

Now he wasted no time, suddenly seemingly as desperate to have me cumming as I was, his tongue wreaked havoc on me, sliding through my folds until it was lightly circling my clit before his lips latched onto it and sucked harshly. I was mindlessly laying there, twitching and shuddering, mouth open on a constant stream of quiet moans as he ate me out wildly.

He alternated between playing with my clit with his tongue and sucking on it with such force it left me breathless, before he slid lower and circled my entrance, moaning loudly into my cunt as his hands gripped my thighs tighter, leaving red indents of his nails. His head moved with the motion, bobbing excitedly as he licked me to my clit again before plunging his tongue in my hole without any warning.

It was such an onslaught of sensations I found myself barely hanging on, the fire in my lower belly consuming everything in its path and filling my veins with molten gold. I stopped caring about what kind of noises leave my mouth and gave myself over to the feeling of his tongue fucking into me in rough motions, nose bumping into my clit making me see stars. Blindly I reached over and grabbed his hair, tugging on it harshly and that had Baekhyun loudly groaning into my pussy, hands massaging my thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

It was such a hot experience I could feel myself hurling closer to the edge, but I just needed an extra push. I used the grip on the hair as leverage and pulled Baekhyun away from my cunt. He looked at me, his fucked out expression bleeding into slight annoyance at getting interrupted. He looked a mess, the lower half of his face wet with my juices, lips shiny and red, tongue peeking out like he was a dog in heat. A blush was spread over his face, but spilled lower over his collarbones which were visible in the stretched out collar.

I pulled his head and pushed his mouth to my clit again. Without thinking, he immediately latched on and started sucking on it in between flicking it with his tongue, circling it and playing with it before giving it some rougher treatment. I moaned loudly, barely holding onto any thought, hand still holding him in place. When he wanted to move lower, his hair got pulled again and a debauched groan left his lips before he smirked at me.

“Suddenly turned all demanding, huh?” he said and teasingly licked through my folds as far as he could reach, “What is it baby, am I not doing enough?” I attempted to look at him, but I was already half gone, just desperately needing to come as soon as possible.

“Your fingers too, please,” I gasped out and with a single grin the man obliged immediately. Before I could process his lips on my cunt again, two fingers were plunged as deep as they could go into my heat. I nearly screamed out, but managed to turn it into a drawn out moan, legs falling open as far as I could push them. Baekhyun groaned in answer and then started harshly fucking me with them, curling them slightly to hit the sweet spot. Which he did, again and again and again. With a couple of flicks he had me losing my mind in the damn backseat of his car, on the cusp of cumming just from seeing his eyes drink up my own lust.

The car was suddenly filled with the sound of his muffled moaning, wet squelching of his fingers pumping furiously into my cunt and my own moans and sighs. I arched again, pushing my pussy into his face, into his fingers, so close to falling over that edge. I could barely think, barely hear, barely see, walls of my cunt spasming around him and milking his fingers of all their worth.

Baekhyun moaned again, hips moving on their own against one of my legs. I could feel his hard cock straining through the jeans and I loved knowing this was driving him just as wild, but I couldn’t hold that thought for long because suddenly he paired a couple of harsh pumps of his fingers with a hard flick and a long drawn-out sucking on my clit and I was launched into my climax, crashing into it so hard my hands flexed and had him groaning in pain and pleasure, hips stuttering against me.

The added vibration of his pleasured sounds carried me through it hard and I cried out, hips jerking against his face, the orgasm washing through my body in one huge tidal wave, white spots dancing behind my lids as I pressed them shut. The pleasure wrecked through me with a few quieter moans, leaving my thighs trembling. Then my whole body slumped down, the muscles relaxing and turning me into a rag doll.

I could hear Baekhyun breathing loudly, licking lightly at my spent pussy until I used my hand to pull him away again. He smirked at me, pulling my hand away from his white and black hair and sat back on his heels. His hands worked fast on his belt and zipper and I watched him utterly fascinated as he pulled his cock out, his hand frantically moving up and down the length as he chased his own pleasure.

I loved the sight, his cock was just as pretty as Baekhyun himself was, thick and curved with a tip flushed red, wet from pre-cum. I felt the fire burn low in my belly again, excitement making itself known through the tingling feeling spreading through my cunt. I moved faster than I was able to comprehend, suddenly kneeling in front of him with Baekhyun pushed against the door. I looked at him once with a mischievous expression and that was all the warning he got before I pulled his hand away and put his cock halfway down my throat.

He groaned loudly, hands immediately flying to my hair, tugging on it just as harshly as payback, and I moaned just as loudly in return, the sensation making him choke on a whimper. I was too eager, pushing myself to take him further into my mouth and in the process choking on his length, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him in my throat. Baekhyun released a few raggedy moans, hands flexing in my hair and hips stuttering slightly, before he seemed to regain back some composure and decided to take control again.

His hand grabbed onto my hair a little harsher, getting a more solid grip before he stopped me from aimlessly choking on him. I looked up, completely ruined by lust and needing him to cum just as hard as I did. He smirked at me, pleased at my obedience.

“Gonna fuck your mouth, yeah princess?” he whispered roughly, hands once again getting a good grip, but his eyes waited for my confirmation. I blinked at him and tried to nod, which was pretty hard given my position but he seemed to understand.

His hips jumped a little forward as he was preparing himself to move and I cherished the feeling of his cock sliding deeper into my mouth, touching the edge of my throat. I breathed loudly through my nose, getting used to the feeling before Baekhyun started thrusting.

When he did, he started slow, with measured shallow thrusts that had barely half of his cock sliding into my mouth, but once I moaned and pushed against his hands holding me still, he got the memo and started earnestly fucking into mouth, hips languidly moving in elegant swerves and each thrust punching a high moan out of him. He tried to keep his eyes on me, but soon was too overwhelmed by the sensation and threw his head back as his hips kept relentlessly jerking forward, until I was choking on him on every thrust.

I concentrated on my breathing, but the throbbing trembling between my legs was making me delirious, moaning around the intrusion in my mouth and welcoming it back with every plunge, driving Baekhyun absolutely insane.

The car moved with the motion of his hips, swinging wildly from left to right, and if anybody passed by us, they would definitely know what was currently taking place inside. I could hear a quiet creaking of metal, lost behind the cacophony of Baekhyun’s long high pitched moans. His thrusts had gotten slower but harder, pushing into me until my face was smushed into his lower abdomen, the cock pulsing in my throat. I tried to swallow around it and a pitiful groan was punched out of Baekhyun’s mouth. I could feel he wouldn’t last much longer, his fingers digging into my hair tightly, hips losing rhythm and chasing after an orgasm, moans getting higher and higher.

I grabbed onto his thighs and my nails digging into the fabric of the jeans were no doubt felt through to his skin. His hands started guiding my head along his thrusts, pushing me into him on ever slide in. Drool dribbled out of my mouth, all over my chin and onto him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

With a few deep thrusts I could hear his stuttering breaths, the tightening of his balls before he stilled, cock pushed as deep as it could go pumping hot salty liquid down my throat. Baekhyun let out one last long moan, cumming in few hot squirts as his hips trembled and jerked lightly. I struggled to swallow around his length, stimulating the already sensitive head, punching out some whimpers out of him as his cum slipped out my lips and dribbled down my chin. My own cunt spasmed and throbbed with arousal, and I could feel the wetness sliding down my thighs, making me groan slightly.

He finally pulled out and his head lolled back to look at me. I barely had the presence of mind to look at him, eyes teary and face a mess of drool and cum. Something passed over his eyes and then he was suddenly pushing me down onto the seat, descending over me and kissing me harshly. I gasped and he immediately stuck his tongue into my mouth, no doubt tasting his release, but that didn’t seem to bother him, especially since he kissed me like a starved man.

I was so ready to cum again, too turned on from having him fuck my mouth to even pretend I didn’t need him again and he seemed to understand. With one hand he pulled up my shirt, lips migrating down my neck to mouth at my tits, while the other pressed between our bodies and without much preamble he plunged two fingers inside my hole again.

I whimpered, back arching and pushing my tits into his mouth, while my hips gyrated against his fingers attempting to ride them to completion. The madness at that point truly hit the boiling point as I didn’t need much at all and after a few rough well aimed thrusts combined with slight scraping of his teeth over my nipple I was cumming once again, this time my whole body spasmed and the pleasure was enough to tear a desperate scream out of my throat as I clamped down on his fingers, the ecstasy tearing through me with even more force than the first time. Baekhyun groaned a few times too, attempting to let me ride out the climax with some gentler strokes, before we both slumped down, the pleasant boneless feeling after a good orgasm getting us both.

Sound of harsh breathing was the only sound in the car as we both tried to get it back under control, our bodies cooling down. I was suddenly aware just how much cold wet release was all over my cunt and thighs, as well as a slight tick in my jaw was making itself known. Baekhyun pushed himself back on his knees and tucked himself back into his pants, tee haphazardly hanging off of him.

He gave me a winning smile with a touch of that smugness from before and then launched into motion. I rolled my eyes at him fondly, but let him do the aftercare, as I was still too drained to even move. Just as he was leaning over to the front seat trying to grab the packet of handkerchiefs to wipe me down, his phone suddenly started blaring through the silence of the car, scaring the both of us.

Baekhyun grabbed it and looked at it, then looked at me and said cheekily: “It seems that the signal is working again.” I just stuck my tongue out at him, to which he in turn started gesturing lewdly with his until I kicked him with a barely held back laugh.

The phone was still blaring, so he clicked the accept button and suddenly Jongin’s worried rambling was filling the silence of the car.

“Jesus christ, hyung!” he exclaimed, “We were so fucking scared! You were supposed to be here hours ago and none of us could reach either of you and we had no idea where you were!”

“Sorry, bear,” Baekhyun replied, though he didn’t sound nor looked very sorry, grinning at me while leisurely wiping my centre. I flushed with embarrassment, suddenly feeling shy now that Jongin was on the call. “My phone’s broken and Y/N’s died a while ago. We seem to be quite lost.”

“Are you anywhere close? I might be able to come and get you,” came Kai’s sweet reply, his voice full of relief now that we established we were alive and well. “I’m not sure, I think so,” Baekhyun told him and looked out the window. It was pointless, it was already dark outside and barely anything could be seen beyond the few dingy streetlights.

“My GPS kept fucking up, so we stopped by the side of the road for a little bit to see if it jumps back on, but I think we’re in the vicinity,” the man carried on explaining and I started searching for my discarded panties. When I bent over to fish them from underneath the driver’s seat, a hand made its way to my ass and caressed it gently. I flushed and ducked further to avoid looking at the smug bastard.

There was silence on the line, stretching until I started nervously twitching and turned back to sit next to Baekhyun. He watched me with a teasing glint to his eye and then winked.

“Uh-huh,” drawled out Jongin finally as an answer. I could hear in his voice he was suspicious and really, who could blame him. We disappeared, didn’t pick up phone calls and then Baekhyun tells him totally laid-back “oh yeah, phone’s broken and we’re somewhere on the side of the road” as if he was talking about what he was doing yesterday. I blushed again and slapped his shoulder lightly, earning a quiet amused chuckle.

“Okay hyung, stay there and send me your location while your phone works,” Jongin said, deadpan and clearly done with his shit, “and for fuck’s sake, be fully clothed when I get there.”

Baekhyun started loudly cackling while I slapped his shoulder some more in embarrassment. He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me flush to his chest, giggling at me playfully.

“Got it! Thank you, Jonginnie~”

The man sighed and grumbled something about Baekhyun being a menace and then hung up. I immediately groaned and pushed my face into the white-haired man’s shoulder.

“They’ll never shut up about this,” I mumbled and melted into the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers gently carding through my hair. He chuckled lightly, reverting back to his happy persona.

“Just be really shameless, it will be less fun for them to tease you,” he laughed, “Walk in like ‘yeah I sucked his dick, what of it?’” He made some crude gestures with his free hand and then laughed when I slapped it again.

“Let’s get back to the front seats before Kai gets here, or he’ll be traumatised,” I told him and pulled myself back through the gap. When I turned back, Baekhyun was giving me a hungry stare again and I shuddered, my body valiantly trying to get aroused again.

“You forgot something,” he whispered and suddenly my black panties were hanging in the space between our faces, tangled around his beautiful fingers. I flushed, realising I must have flashed him when I clambered back to the passenger seat, but I could already feel the beginnings of a fresh wet heat between my legs.

I gave Baekhyun a look, which he seemed to understand judging by the annoyingly hot self-assured smirk making its way back onto his face.

“How long do you think we have before Kai gets here?”

I guess we were going to find out.

hope you enjoyed yourself <3

#kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #exo fic #exo fluff #exo smut #exo x reader #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #byun baekhyun x reader

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thydungeongal · 4 months

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I feel a lot of people have very defensive attitudes about the media they enjoy coupled with a lack of nuanced thought that makes even the observation of certain ideas in said media seem like an attack, and not just on the media but on themselves

Anyway I feel modern D&D and the MCU have a lot in common in this regard. Both are basically action blockbuster properties with a veneer of progressive politics (but only in to the extent which a multi-million dollar company can promote actual progressive politics) and whose narratives support readings about how Special People sometimes need to be able to override consensus for the Greater Good, (and for the sake of D&D I'm specifically talking about what the rules and modules imply because each individual group's act of play will be unique and I sadly have neither the time nor the desire to observe every D&D game going on right now)

And engaging with that media won't automatically turn you into a cop-brained person who thinks that sometimes the cops should be able to break the law to solve the crime, nor are those ideas present in the texts explicitly and are probably there mostly because those tropes are so ingrained in certain forms of storytelling that people unwittingly replicate them, so actually trying to draw any kind of moral argument like "you are a bad person for engaging with this media" or "the writers are bad people" would be asinine

I mean yeah some people are cop-brained the other way where they'll go out of their way to make these observations for the sake of "proving" that the media they dislike is also morally impure and so are the people that like it, but like those people suck anyway. But idk at least for me the reasoning for these observations is simply to make sense of media I enjoy while also getting to go "get a load of this society"

Anyway this was brought on because someone questioned my motives for pointing out certain things implied by the text of D&D as if the only sensible motive for that could be to point out that someone on the design team has problematic ideas. My friend, if that's the only motive you can think of for overthinking media then that says a lot more about you than I

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crikeygatormate · 1 year

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I Promise - K.B

Summary: After your clan had been exiled and shunned from the western lands, your family grew to hate the royal family who they felt betrayed them. In return you were sent on a mission to reclaim your families honor, but you would come to find out that your mission came with a price.

Dragon Prince!Bakugou x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Spelling just pretend its right lol

A/N: thought Id post this FINALLY its been in my docs for months, and I've been so busy with school lord but I did it. (Not because I got a whole ass 30 on one of my exams lmao dw the class average was a 40, but still needed that little bit of serotonin that comes with posting things here lmao) Also dont clown me on the banner I've got like 2 functioning brain cells rn

PART ONE (Part Two) (Part Three)

————————————-

Growing up you were told stories about the royal dragon riders out west, where the land was vast and dragons as big as castles soared above the sky with a rider on their back. Sometimes you could have sworn you heard the deep rumble of a dragon's roar from somewhere up in the distance. You’d look up at the sun, squinting in hopes to see a shadow of a beast block out the light.

Your clan used to be dragon riders too a long time ago before dragons were only given to royals. Granted, you didn’t know the exact history or that it was your clan who had caused their own downfall and loss of its dragons. Shrouded by the innocence of youth you failed to see the consequences that this downfall had on your clan, the famine, the pestilence, the anger.

You heard stories about how the great dragon queen cast out her right-hand man, your grandfather, due to his so-called betrayal of her trust. This was because the queen became fond of a group of barbarians from the north that wanted an alliance. Your grandfather had advised against it, insisting that she was being used, and it would lead to the downfall of her family. The queen refused your grandfather's advice, which left him to his own devices. He attempted to kill her intended, the king of the barbarian group, which in turn got him exiled. In time his predictions came true and the barbarian group took over for a time, trying to claim the throne for themselves.

Still ever loyal, your grandfather came to the queen's aid, only to have been killed by the queen herself. It was said that your grandfather tried to kill her children and their dragons, in hopes to wipe the barbarian line from the royal family. He managed to kill two, leaving the queen with one child. Your clan refused to believe this, claiming that your grandfather was attacked and killed trying to help his queen.

As punishment, the royal family butchered your clans dragons and pulled all resources to survive as well. Leaving your family to struggle to survive in a barren land.

As the years passed, a small farming village was built where your family was exiled, and other rouges and outsiders moved into town. It became a town of thieves, murderers, and other criminals. Your family never forgot where you came from and the betrayal that fell upon them.

At night, when you were young, your mother would sit you down while she dressed you retelling that tale over and over again till it was ingrained in your brain and you understood that the dragon riders out west, the royals, were traitors and needed to be brought to justice.

—-----------

You were eight currently, playing hide and seek with a few friends after the announcement of your future role in the clan, the infiltrator. Not that you knew what that meant yet.

“Hey!” your friend, Shoji, called from further back in the wheat field, “you’re going too far, Koda isn’t going to be able to find you!”

You giggled, slapping a hand over your mouth as you sprinted through the field, trying to contain your excitement. With another quiet shriek of laughter, you turned your head to see your friend jumping up past the tall grass trying to spot you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was someone crouched right in front of you, and you ran right into them.

“Ouch!” A raspy voice snapped as you face planted into the grass. “Watch where you’re going!”

You sniffled, lifting your face from the ground and wiping your palm over your eyes to get rid of dirt. “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” you said as you blinked, your gaze focusing on a boy in front of you.

“Clearly,” he scoffed, rolling his vermillion eyes.

You nodded, taking in the stranger's appearance. He was dressed weirdly, and painted with strange marks on his bare arms. His clothes were lighter , meant for a place that was used to warmer weather. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” the boy snorted, folding his arms over his chest, “you really don’t know?”

You shook your head, straightening out the stained shirt you were wearing.

“Of course, you don’t, you’re one of those traitor’s family members, you got those orange eyes like the elders say” the boy said as he spat on the ground much to your surprise. “I’m Katsuki Bakugou, prince of the western lands, soon to be the king once I get my dragon.”

Your eyes widened, and you weren’t sure what to say.

Bakugou nodded, “I know, probably your first time being around someone like me.” He had his chest puffed out. Clearly, your lack of response had stoked his small ego.

You furrowed your brows, “traitor?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, “look,” he paused waiting for you to tell him your name before continuing, “I’m sure this must come as a shock, but your people out here have all been exiled for being traitors-”

“We’re not traitors, you are,” you shot back, eyes growing wide as your mother's story about the royal dragon riders finally started to piece together in your mind.

Bakugou sneered, curling his upper lip to reveal a set of pointed canine teeth, “hah, keep telling yourself that.”

You balled your hands into fists, feeling anger for the first time in your life it seemed as you stared this snotty royal boy down. A darker part of you seemed to awaken and you suddenly felt the urge to smack his pompous smirk off his face.

He didn’t even have time to react before he noticed you lunging at him with a raised hand. However before you could even land a blow on him, a pair of arms yanked you back.

“Quit it you insolent child,” your mother hissed, holding you close to her as you thrashed. She was looking to the sky, feeling fear settle in her veins like ice when a shadow momentarily blocked out the sun.

You were too busy exchanging insults with Bakugou to notice a giant golden dragon land behind Bakugou, or see his mother slide off her dragon's back and stomp towards you three.

“Katsuki!” a shrill voice cut through your haze of anger and suddenly you froze at the sight of a woman, presumably the queen, and her dragon. A puff of hot air blew your hair back and a primal fear sank into your gut.

“You know better than to wander this far,” the queen hissed, glancing at you and your mother. By the bitter look on her face, she clearly recognized your mother. “And you,” she said harshly, pointing a slim finger at your mother, which prompted her dragon to let out a low growl, “keep your offspring away from mine, that child is feral. Don’t think I didn’t see her try to attack the prince. A crime like that is punishable by death.”

Your mother was collected as a wry smile tugged at her lips, “Mitsuki, what makes you think it was my child that started this squabble?”

“Because I know you, and I know your type,” Mitsuki snapped, grabbing Bakugou roughly by his spiky hair, making him whine. “Stay the fuck away from us, the second I catch wind that any of you traitors crossed the border, I’ll have you all burned alive.”

Your eyes were wide as you watched Bakugou smirk as his mom dragged him away and they both got on her dragon. You don’t think you’d ever forget the glare that the queen gave you as her golden dragon took off into the sky.

Dirt bellowed around you and your mom as powerful wings pushed the air around you, you squinted, digging your nails into the skin of your mother's arm.

“Do you understand now?” your mother asked, her voice even as you both watched the dragon fly into the distance towards the west.

You nodded, feeling a bitter feeling settle into the pit of your stomach.

—----------

Many years passed, and throughout those years you trained, fell into your role as the infiltrator. The one that was supposed to regain your clan's power, regain your dragons. You were the only one able to do this, it was destiny it seemed. And it was because you had a dragon.

On your thirteenth name day, you were presented with something that had been hidden since your grandfather was exiled. It was a small dragon egg, your grandfather had stolen it before he was killed, took it from the royal clutch, in hopes that it would serve his family well.

It was doubtful that the egg would hatch, but it did. Your dragon grew to be large and fueled by your anger she had become lethal, like you. She was a deep army green with amber eyes and a double set of teeth. She was snake-like, long, and slender with an ear-piercing roar that made you sometimes wince at the whistle of it.

You both grew up together, bonding over a common goal, feeling each other's anger towards the royals. Now you were an adult, old enough to go out on your own and complete your mission that has been planned for decades.

“Are you ready?” your mother asked as she straightened your top.

You nodded, blinking hard as she ran her cold fingers over your bare stomach where a large scar ran across the lateral length of your skin. A training accident, at least that’s what it was called, but it was a reminder of what could happen if you were to fail.

“Good,” your mother said as she took a step back, “prince Katsuki is out on his dragon patrolling this evening. We know his dragon is not a usual one, he is a shifter, which makes him susceptible to silver. We have a trap set down by the ravine, they should fly right into it.”

You nodded, keeping your gaze forward as your dragon shifted behind you, her growl rumbling into a whistle.

“Get going,” your mother said as she handed you a dagger, it was your grandfather’s.

You kept silent as you climbed on your dragon's back and urged her forward. You felt numb as she took off into the evening sky, the orange of the setting sun illuminating her scales. She was let out a wheezing breath as he turned past a cloud and the ravine came into the distance.

You landed in a cave that was specifically scouted for this mission, and there you both waited, two sets of amber eyes pointed towards the sky awaiting the prince.

Soon you heard the unmistakable roar of a dragon and a flash of deep red appeared briefly through the broken clouds.

It was him, Prince Bakugou.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched him descend towards the trap set out. It was meant to look like a threat from a neighboring nation. One that had been having issues with the dragon's riders of the west, a more civilized nation that was moving past the need to be controlled by those who ride dragons. In other words, the royals knew if this nation continued to grow, so would their weapons. Which meant they could become a threat to their dragons.

“Fuckin’ shitty scales, just land, damn it,” Prince Bakugou’s gruff voice echoed off the cold ravine walls.

You watched as his dragon landed and shook his head while Bakugou slid off. To your interest, his dragon shook again, changing forms and turned into a man. A big one with a long red tail, horns, and a set of red wings.

Dragon shifters were rare, rarer than dragons themselves, and for Prince Bakugou to have one as his dragon, meant that he was special. Which gave your goal an even greater weight.

“Wadda you think happened?” the shifter asked as he stepped over a few burning logs.

“Looks like it was the north,” Bakugou said with a scoff as he kicked a skull that went tumbling down the rocks till it shattered.

You stiffened, feeling your muscles bunch as you waited for the next part of the plan. A member of your clan, Shoji, the best archer, was in place to shoot Bakugou’s dragon with a silver-tipped arrow. He only had one.

With bated breath, you waited to see Shoji peek out from on top of the ravine. After a heartbeat, you noticed a flash of wood, and before you could blink a pained roar echoed around the ravine.

You froze for a moment watching the shifter crumple to the ground screaming as smoke curled from the arrow wound. But then your training kicked in and you took off, grabbing onto your dragon as she slid down the side of the ravine. Her claws scraped against the slate stone sending shards tumbling down below. She huffed, wheezing before leaping off the side and landing squarely in front of Bakugou and his dragon.

It took him no time at all to react and he instantly pulled his blades out, red eyes aflame with alarm and anger. “Who the fuck are you?”

You slide off the side of your dragon's thin back and landed on the charred ground, ash billowing around you. “Someone that can help, if you don’t treat that immediately, he’ll die.”

“Katsuki,” the shifter whimpered, his face paling.

Bakugou hesitated, glancing at your dragon. It was strange looking, long and slender with pointed features. An odd color too, he’s only known of red, gold, and orange dragons. He didn’t have time to ponder though, Kirishima needed help. “Do it.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief knowing that everything was going to plan. You wasted no time kneeling by Kirishima, eyeing his wound. His blood was bubbling around the tip of the arrow and evaporating into foul-smelling smoke. In one swift movement you yanked the arrow out, not flinching as Kirishima roared. With the arrow gone, you proceeded to pull the bag that was around your back to your side where you quickly found the antidote to neutralize the silver in his body.

“Here,” you said, “open his mouth.”

Bakugou glanced at you once more before prying open Kirishima’s jaws and watching your pour a strange-colored liquid down his dragon's throat. However, he was shocked to see Kirishima’s wound immediately stop smoking.

Kirishima let out sigh of relief, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath.

“There,” you said as you capped the bottle and placed it back in your bag, “that should be good for now, he’ll need another dose in the morning. He won’t be able to shift back either, not till that is healed,” you told Bakugou while eyeing the wound.

Bakugou hummed, glancing at you again, “great. Now, answer my question, who the fuck are you?”

You frowned, “you don’t remember?”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, “am I supposed to?”

You huffed, “of course you don’t, look, you and I got into a argument when we were kids? You wandered out too far, started acting like a dick - still act like one.”

“Do you have any clue who I fuckin’ am?” Bakugou snarled, getting ready to press his blade against your throat.

You gave him a wry smile, “Prince Katsuki Bakugou, how can I forget it a second time.”

Recognition flashed across Bakugou’s face as he looked at you again. Were you that mangy girl that got pissed at him for telling her that her family were traitors? He shifted his gaze towards your face, taking note of your orange eyes, which told him that you were indeed from the family that betrayed his.

“Remember now?” You asked as you glanced down at Kirishima again who was phasing in and out of consciousness. And then to your utter surprise he said your name. It made you still your hands on Kirishima and look at him. “So you do remember?”

Bakugou didn’t nod, instead he narrowed his eyes. “How did someone like you get a hold of a dragon?”

You shrugged, “Luck.”

“That’s not the answer I was looking for, you must have stolen it, traitor,” Bakugou hissed, suddenly moving towards you at an incredible speed.

You were somewhat caught off guard as he slammed you into the ground, pinning you down with his knee on your chest and the blade of his sword pressed against your neck. “I didn’t steal anything.”

“Yeah fuckin’ right, only my family has dragons,” he snarled, pressing the sword further into your neck, causing the skin to split under his blade. A few scarlet drops of blood slid down the side of your neck and dripped onto the ashen earth.

At the sight of this your dragon growled, slinking forward towards Bakugou. A wheezing hiss escaped her as she opened her mouth. The back of her throat started to brighten to a electric green threatening to breathe her fire on the prince, not that it would do much to him.

Bakugou stilled, glancing at your dragon. He had never seen green fire before. He looked down at you again, you were collected, watching him with a cool expression. Perhaps you were telling the truth. There have been tales of dragons far south, those of a different species than the royal line.

Your heart was in your throat as you watched him assess you. He was breathing hard, his chest was heaving as he tightened his grip around his sword. Then to your relief he moved off of you and sheathed his weapon.

“You’re coming back with me,” Bakugou announced, “to finish healing Kirishima and then to be questioned.”

This part was important, you couldn’t easily go with him, or it’d be suspicious. So you sat up, rigid and with eyes wide, “questioned? I just saved your dragon?”

“I don’t trust you,” Bakugou said with a hiss through clenched teeth. “Something about this is wrong, and I’d be fuckin’ stupid to let you go. Especially when you are the only other dragon rider in the country who isn’t part of the royal family. My family.”

You frowned, standing up and folded your arms across your chest. “Look-”

“No, you look,” Bakugou hissed, jamming his finger into your shoulder, “you don’t get a fuckin’ option. Get on your dragon we’re leaving.”

You yelped when he roughly grabbed you by the upper arm and practically threw you towards your dragon. With a huff of irriatiton you regained your balance and climbed on your dragon’s back. You watched as Bakugou hauled Kirishima over his shoulder and to your surprise managed to get on behind you, securing Kirishima between the both of you and your dragons spikes. With a hissing whine your dragon crawled forward, speeding up before she pushed herself off from the ground.

Her leathery wings extended and ash plumed around her form as she rose up higher in the sky. She didn’t fly exactly like a normal dragon would, she would weave through the air, tucking her wings in before extending them to propel herself forward again.

It wasn’t a smooth ride to put it simply.

You glanced back behind you to see Bakugou pinning Kirishima down with his upper body while he held onto the large spikes on your dragons back. He looked pissed, probably because he wasn’t used to riding bare back, at least that’s what you assumed.

It didn’t take very long to enter the western lands, and you could immediately tell that you had left your homeland due to the dramatic change in scenery.

The terrain became plush with pine forests, with trees as tall as some of the castles you heard from the elders in your town. The earth was covered with plush grass too, and the forests would break away to vast meadows with rolling hills, covered with hundred of wild flowers.

Your eyes widened at the sheer beauty the western lands held. It was warm here too, the sun had blessed these lands and all its creatures. In fact, you had never seen so much wildlife before in your life. There were herds of elk migrating north, and so many birds that were all different colors, you didn’t even know that so many animals existed.

In your town the only animals were pests, and a few scraggly farm animals that helped to feed the people. Your home was full of dry cracked earth, dead fields of straw grass, and swampy bogs that sucked and devoured any life form that entered them. The sun was shrouded by clouds and a perpetual dust seemed to hang heavy in the air.

You glanced back at Bakugou quickly, your amber gaze catching his crimson ones. A bitter feeling rose like bile in your throat and you quickly realized that you were jealous of where he grew up, and angry that his family had taken the opportunity for you to grow up in the western lands away too.

Soon a clearing near the foot of a mountain came into view. There you were able to see a large town, clearly a nomadic one, but the quality of the tents told you that the royal family and its people didn’t have much to worry about.

As you flew closer to the clan you began to notice the common people running out in groups, alarmed that a dragon, and not one they were familiar with, was about to land in their home.

With a wheezing sigh, your dragon landed, her nostrils flaring as she warily watched the three other dragons resting by the royal tent. You watched them too, hesitating to get off in case you needed to leave quickly.

“They won’t hurt you,” Bakugou said as he looked towards the trio of fire colored dragons. One a deep gold, his mothers. Another a pale yellow, his fathers. The final one, a rusty orange, his grandmothers.

You nodded, about to say something but he had already gotten off your dragon and was carrying Kirishima towards the royal tents, there were four of them. The people cried out his name and Kirishima’s, obviously concerned about who you were and what had happened to Bakugou’s dragon.

“C’mon,” Bakugou called out, not bothering to look back at you, “leave your dragon, she won’t be harmed. For now at least.”

“Comforting,” you muttered as you got off your dragon and gave her a quick pat on the neck. She grumbled, lowering her head to the ground as she watched you follow the prince with unblinking eyes.

As you followed behind Bakugou you glanced at the common folk. They were all dressed similar, wearing clothes lined with furs, and various skins. They looked well fed, well rested…happy.

You narrowed your eyes as they continued to watch you follow their prince, and you didn’t miss the whispers amongst them. They too knew of the tales between your clan and Bakugou’s, and how your family was know to have amber eyes.

Your lip curled in irritation as they exchanged snide comments about your family.

Traitors, murderers, thieves, cowards.

—---

Bakugou had you wait outside of a tent that was guarded by two warriors before allowing you to come inside. With a sharp inhale you entered the tent, pushing the door flap out of your way as you walked forward.

The inside of the tent was huge, bigger than the home you grew up in. The ground was covered in plush furs, and there was enough room for a large bed and a table. The tent walls were home to various weapons, swords, axes, and a few spears. Along with a few exotic pelts and horns from animals.

At the sound of a pained groan you turned your head to see Kirishima curled up on a makeshift bed of pelts and pillows. That silver, although neutralized for now, would keep him from shifting for another few days.

“Sit,” Bakugou’s gruff voice cut through your thoughts as he yanked out one of the chairs at his table.

You turned your gaze to his as you moved across the room and silently took a seat.

Bakugou sat down in the chair across from you and let out a strained sigh. He looked frustrated, which was not surprising, considered all that had happened within the past few hours. “The queen will be coming in to question you, along with the queen mother-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Mitsuki, the queen, the woman who told you she would burn you and your mother alive, stomped into the tent. Her red eyes were ablaze with a deep anger upon the sight of you.

“You,” she hissed, rushing over to you, about to presumably smack you across the face till a frail voice spoke from the opening of the tent.

“Mitsuki, behave yourself,” an older lady the spitting image of Mitsuki hobbled in. She was frail and thin, but still was proud as she stood tall. The queen mother had to lean heavily on her cane as she made her way over to you, and Bakugou got out of his seat to allow his grandmother to sit.

You remained quiet, your gaze flicking between the two women. This was the most crucial part, to convince the royal family that you were not what they perceived you to be. An infiltrator, someone that was going to come in and wipe out their family line. Someone who was going to take revenge for what they did to your family.

“Now, child,” the queen mother spoke, clearing her throat as she folded her hands together, “what did you do that made my grandson fly you all the way back here, and away from your home?”

“Mother, don’t you know who this is?” Mitsuki hissed, “look at her eyes.”

“I’m well aware,” the queen mother responded curtly, “however, I trust Katuski’s judgment, if she was a threat she wouldn’t be here now would she?”

Mitsuki kept her mouth shut, but she still was glaring at you with such intense hatred that you had a hard time holding eye contact with her.

“Speak,” the queen mother said, gesturing at you with her hand to talk.

“I was in the area, and saw prince Bakugou get attacked, his dragon was injured and I helped him. He told me to come back with him, presumably because Kirishima needs another dose of antidote in the morning to remove the silver from his system,” you explained, keeping your voice even.

“And how did you obtain that dragon out there?” the queen mother asked.

“I found an egg when I was traveling away from home. It looked to be dead, so I thought I could sell it along the trade line by the coast far south,” you began, remembering the lines you rehearsed for years, “but to my surprise it hatched, so I kept it-”

“You have no right to own a dragon,” Mitsuki hissed, “not after what your family did to mine, what your grandfather did to my siblings.”

A muscle in your jaw twitched as you looked at Mitsuki, she had her hand on the hilt of her axe, clearly ready to yank it out and cleave you in two. “It wouldn’t have hatched if I didn’t have a right to it-”

“You bratty bit-”

“Mitsuki!” The queen mother said, her voice straining as she looked at her daughter with wide eyes, “this young woman just saved your son’s dragon, I know you know the weight that carries. We only get one dragon our whole lives, and if Katsuki’s died, he wouldn’t be able to take the throne.”

Mitsuki scoffed, but backed off, knowing her mother was right. “I know, but that still doesn’t mean I trust her, and neither should you mother, or you Katsuki. I know her kind, her mother and I used to be friends. I have seen the evil that grows in her blackened heart, and no doubt she passed it to her daughter.”

With that, Mitsuki turned on her heel and left, clearly through with speaking and looking at you.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. The air in the tent seemed to drop about five degrees too. It was rumored that the Bakugou’s had an affinity for fire too, which would explain how Mitsuki could raise the temperature of the air around her when she was mad.

You quickly glanced at Bakugou, who you had a feeling he had a more fiery temper than his mother, and you could only image how much heat he’d give off if he was mad. A small flicker of fear lit in your stomach as you began to think that this mission you were on was way more dangerous than you had thought.

“Look,” the queen mother spoke up, her voice was beginning to sound tired, “I knew your grandfather, he was a greedy man. He would do just about anything to get what he wanted.”

You remained silent, as feelings of doubt started to swirl in your mind.

“However, as much as our family dislikes yours, we are indebted to you. I can’t punish you for the crimes of your grandfather, and I wouldn’t anyway. Finish healing Kirishima and you may stay with us for a while, or leave it’s up to you, but perhaps it’s time that we try to rekindle the once great friendship between our clans.” The queen mother gave you a dry smile, “that doesn’t mean I don’t trust you either, I don’t make the same mistake twice. That’s why Katsuki will be in charge of you for the duration of your stay-”

“What? I don’t wanna fuckin’ babysit,” Bakugou hissed, shooting you a sharp glare.

Your ever growing fear, though you kept it well hidden, had been curbed somewhat. You had gotten in to their inner circle, so with enough patience you could achieve your goal. At the thought of this the scar on your abdomen seemed to burn and a pair of cold orange eyes flashed in your mind.

You couldn’t fail.

“You will. It will be good for her to learn about us and you to learn about them, Katuski,” the queen mother concluded with a nod, “now I think it’s time that I go have my late morning tea.”

You watched as the queen mother hobbled out of Bakugou’s tent, and you let out a sigh. You were relived that no one had picked up on your growing nerves. It would probably good the queen had left or she surely would have sniffed you out. With another sigh you turned your head and to your surprise you saw that Bakugou was already looking at you. His red eyes were narrowed slightly as he let out a huff.

“C’mon, there’s a spare tent on the outskirts of camp you can stay in,” Bakugou finally said as he pushed past you and slipped through the entrance of the tent.

You still for a moment, and then followed him out. The common people seemed to be more relaxed now. They still gave you some sideways glances as you passed, but it was nothing like from when you first arrived.

It was rather odd seeing Bakugou interact with the common folk too. He of course was prickly, but he’d dip his head to a few elders that would hobble past him, or even let some young kids jump at him and hang off is arms before he roughly tossed them off, making them squeal as they ran back to their tents.

You folded your arms over your chest, eyeing him closely. He was tall, much taller than you and built like a warrior. His arms were thick and strong, and tanned by the warm sun. He had a few milky pink scars that ran down his back along with a few tattoos that adorned his bare torso. His hair was golden, bleached by the sun, and spiky. Yet underneath his mane of hair he had a dark undercut, where you saw a set of scars that looked similar to claw marks run along the nape of his neck.

He would be hard to defeat. Someone like him, who was trained from birth to be a warrior, a prince, and a king. Not to mention the sheer amount of scars and battle tattoos he is no doubt a seasoned warrior. Uncertainty seeded in your mind once more as you both came to a stop outside of a gnarly looking tent. If thats what you could call it.

“You’ll stay here,” Bakugou said, his deep voice clipped with annoyance.

“Hardly call this a tent,” you mused, your gaze jumping from the torn fabric near the bottom of the tent and the worn flap that was barely holding it shut.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, choosing not to respond to your comment. “I’ll see you at dawn.” With that he turned his back to you and left. Not once did he turn his head back to glance at you, and you were glad.

—----------------

The next morning you were woken up before dawn. Not by choice, really, but there was a rather unpleasant groaning that started outside your tent about an hour before dawn. As much as you tried to drown out the sound decided to get up to see what was outside of your tent fussing up a storm.

To your surprise it was Bakugou’s dragon, Kirishima.

“I need more of that stuff, please,” Kirishima groaned.

You looked at the dragon shifter in mild shock. Had he crawled all the way across camp to your tent? With a quick glance at his bare torso, your question was answered, he was covered in dirt. “C’mon,” you finally said and let him inside of your tent.

Kirishima let out a grunt as he crawled behind you before collapsing on the straw mat in the center of your tent. He was panting hard and sweat was rolling down his sides.

You quickly lit the single candle in your tent and pulled out your healing pack, rifling through your various herbs till your found the antidote for Kirishima. The second bottle was much more potent than the first one you gave him, which was on purpose. You needed to be brought back to Bakugou’s clan after all.

Kirishima was watching you with glassy eyes as you moved next to his side and hovered over him. He was grinding his teeth so hard it felt like they would snap. He hissed when you ran your fingertips down his chest towards his wound, your hands were ice cold on his hot skin. “Hurry-”

“Patience,” you said sharply, your orange eyes flick between his face and the wound. Kirishima’s wound while, the silver would cure him, it was already infected. Which wasn’t supposed to happen. You poured the antidote into Kirishima’s mouth and watched him sigh as the last of the silver was broken down.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said quietly, letting out a sigh as he let his eyes shut again.

You frowned, watching as he promptly passed out from sheer exhaustion. His face was flushed pink with fever and it spread down his neck to his chest. That was unnerving to you, your knowledge with medicine was limited. You glanced at the open flap of your tent, the sun was about to break over the horizon which mean Bakugou would be here soon. A few moments passed and you grabbed your bag again, glancing at the wound before pulling out some flowers and a small jar of honey.

While you were busying yourself making a paste for Kirishima’s wound you failed to notice Bakugou sauntering up to your tent. He was dressed for a hunt, with his spear slung over his back. To his surprise he saw that you were up already.

You furrowed your brows as you smashed small marigold flowers into a paste with the honey before turning around only to see Bakugou standing in front of your tent.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bakugou asked, moving the flap to the tent opening aside and ducking before walking inside.

“His wound is infected,” you said, glancing up at him before turning your attention to Kirishima, reaching out to place the mush of herbs and flowers on his wound.

“He can see our healer,” Bakugou said gruffly as he grabbed your wrist roughly to stop you from touching Kirishima.

You wiggled your wrist in his tight grasp. His hand easily wrapped around your entire wrist, and you were sure if he wanted to he could snap it in half. “Sure, but it’s not looking great-”

“I’ll let our healer decide that,” Bakugou interrupted, his eyes were narrowed as he quickly dropped your wrist and then bent down to inspect his dragon. Kirishima twitched in his sleep, letting a hand flop towards Bakugou before letting out a grumble. Bakugou lifted his gaze to you for a moment, and then back at Kirishima. Why would Kirishima come to you? He knew where the healer was.

Bakugou grabbed Kirishima’s forearm before slinging him over his shoulders. “I’ll come back for you,” he said before leaving you again.

#bakugou x fem!reader #dragonprince!bakugou #bnha bakugou #Ipromise #please ignore my spelling errors there’s a lot pretend they’re not there 🫶

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endlessthxxghts · 12 days

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Dear readers, writers, and simply friends alike,

Below are some thoughts I’ve been cooking up since I started writing/posting. I believe it to be the holy grail of my blog — what I stand for, and essentially the morals of what my writing is built off of. I wanted to have this here and ingrained into my blog/navigation for purposes of making my positionality known from the start, so people know what kind of open and inclusive space they are entering when being on my blog and interacting with me.

back to navigation ->

As someone who is on the curvier side, physically disabled, Asian, and queer, I strive to make every story I write as neutral as possible in order to give everyone the chance at being able to experience seeing themselves in written word. I know what it’s like to be underrepresented (if any representation at all), and if I have any control over it, I don’t want another human to have to experience it either — so at the very least, I don’t want anyone to experience that on my blog.

At the same time, these stories are as much for me as it is for you. With that being said, I’m also going to dabble into certain physical descriptors. Why, some may ask? Well, that’s simple. Representation. (I do want to note that my creative representation cannot go beyond the marginalized groups I am a part of — I do not, cannot, and should not create on behalf of experiences I do not have. I also want to note that creative writing and advocating are not the same! I will always advocate for every human in every sense of wrongdoing, justice, etc.).

It’s one thing to be able to fit into the neutral “one-size-fits-all” window, but it’s another thing to actively see someone like you within a work of art (whether it be a literal painting or a book or a film).

These creations are often associated with idyllics and the notion of “perfect,” but because there’s been a lack of diverse representation early on in these creations, society decided that anything not fitting under the skinny, white/eurocentric, able-bodied, cis-heterosexual normative was wrong. And I’m here to tell you that it’s simply not true. And with my words and my creations, I will show you how that’s not true.

Additionally, because of society’s standards that were forcibly instilled into us, we sometimes forget the capability of humans. Often we see characters (and especially within the PPCU and even Joel) carry his counterpart (whether it be an OC or a reader-insert). Now, there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with whatever you write as long as it’s original, you give credit where needed, and you give content warnings/tags accordingly. However, whenever the idea of “carrying” comes around, often the automatic assumption is that the person being carried is smaller or of a more “fit” body. And that’s entirely okay! For my stories, though, I want to clarify. This is not the case unless I specify.

To my thicker body individuals, you are seen and you are capable and worthy of all the freak nasty shit my brain shares with the internet world. As someone who relies on other humans to carry me — you don’t have to be skinny or petite or “fit” in order for this to happen. You simply need a person who is capable, and in my stories, with any PPCU character I write, they will always be capable.

To my people with disabilities, you are seen and you are capable and worthy of all the freak nasty shit my brain shares with the internet world. I know I don’t have disabled!reader-inserts yet (this statement is subject to change! I’ve got some stuff cooking🩶), I hope you can understand — this is something that is especially close to my heart, and disability is also something that is the most subjective human experience any of us will face. I will try my best to represent this lifestyle in the way that I know best, and I hope somehow, someway, there’s details in there that we can all relate to and see ourselves in.

I love you. All of you. No matter what you look like, or what lifestyle the universe has given you. You are human, and with me, you are seen. I can promise you that.

My ask box is always open, and if there are any questions or things you’d like to address with me — I’m always open for the conversation, and I’m always open for more ways to grow personally and mentally. I’m also always open if you ever just need another human to talk to or even to listen. I’m here.

If any of these beliefs and morals don’t sit right with you, then this isn’t the blog for you, and I hope we can simply scroll along. And I also hope you can find a blog that aligns with what you’re looking for.

Endless love,

L <3

#navigation #blog disclaimer #about my blog #18+ account #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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obitoanon · 3 days

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𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦

I hate that it's come to this.

𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗗 𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦

Be kind to each other. I don't take this blog that seriously to the point where I am dead set on every detail of the anime/manga being a lengthy discourse post. I adore Tobi and love Obito and I just want to have fun with him. I try to be canon complaint and RP Obito to the best of my understanding. But at the end of the day this is an RP blog not a meta blog.

Obito isn't real. Grow a brain.

That being said don't send me hate of any nature. You run the risk of being dragged/publicly humiliated and def blocked. Threats of violence will dealt with accordingly. Threats of any kind will be dealt with as a group.

Don't follow me if you're a minor. Which ESP means NO smut if you're a minor. I am not into RPing with anyone under 18.

I will not give a shred of my attention to anyone who brings drama to my blog. This is a golden rule and everything stems from this. It shouldn't be so hard to ingrain in anyone's brain. No death threats. No rape threats. No doxxing threats. NO MANIPULATION. No going behind my back to manipulate and/or start a war. The only one you will be humiliating is yourself. Do not do one thing and then act surprised when it equals a reaction. Need to incite hate and fan the flames of war? GET THERAPY.

The only pathetic points you establish when you send hate is A.) How big of a loser you are, B.) How vehemently jealous you are, C.) How utterly and sadly lonely you are. Sicko.

Do not MANIPULATE others into getting your way. Do not manipulate others into doing your dirty work. Do not send others to push your agenda on your behalf. Do not throw others around to anonymously send snide hints. Obito is NOT exclusive to ANYONE. (Except to Rin-Anon but Rin-Mod and I had a lengthy conversation about this and we both decided not to be exclusive) If you weasel your agenda through my blog or brainwash others to approach me with 'why I'm not writing Obito to be exclusive to you or to your desired effect', automatic block for life. This includes everyone involved.

If I have you blocked, and you make a new account, I will be naming names. On a brand new shiny post.

If you continue to stalk my blog after I have you blocked/you have me blocked, and you still stick your nose in, I will be naming names. I will know when you have my blog blocked and still stalk me and use MY posts to further your own inspiration. Have some self respect and grow up. This goes for all my blogs, and all our blogs. It's very obvious when blocked blogs still skulk around like losers.

If you come after my friends, we WILL come after you. My anon blogs etc., friends I've made on this site, are my family and NO ONE comes before them. This extends past my anon family. ALL my friends are included in this.

If you find you are pathetically codependent on a 2D drawing, GO TO THERAPY. It is not up to RPers to fulfill your codependent fantasies, especially when we are half your age and you're years ahead of me and expect me to be your therapy vehicle and only your therapy vehicle. It's pretty odd for older users who I should be looking up to as examples, to suddenly be angry at me for not getting their way. And lash out and humiliate yourself. This was the case very recently with a close friend of mine and a much older blog and how cringe. My friend is 21 and I'm 21. This much older blog basically made her (my friend) feel like shit for not them giving exclusive rights. I feel second hand embarrassment just experiencing it with her.

The above rule does not apply to most RPers. It's ok to love characters as long as you're having fun.

Do not I mean DO NOT come to my blog and dictate to me what I should be doing WITH MY BLOG. NEVER. EVER give me instructions on how to proceed with my blog. DO NOT QUESTION WHY I RUN MY BLOG HOW I RUN IT. IN ANY CAPACITY. WHO I RP WITH WHO I TALK TO WHO I BLOCK. The only thing you have a right to is your own blog. That is a level of bullying I WILL NOT TOLERATE. Dictating who I should be saying sorry to because they didn't get their way, is a hard pass.

Never use mental illness as an excuse and a justification for your actions. Not on my watch.

DO NOT THREATEN ANY OF US WITH SUICIDE IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR WAY. This has happened to Naruto Anon Mod in the past. It's emotional blackmail and plainly means you need extensive therapy.

If I post art and you steal it, repost it, claim it, etc I will drag you to hell.

Do not self insert your replies on closed threads.

Be patient with my schedule. I try to answer asks as they come but I only just finished college and my summer will be spent with a job.

Have an RP HC? DM ME! Let's flesh it out.

Do not associate/tag me on posts with these blogs: sasori-rp, shisui-uchiha-rp, izumi-uchiha-rp, naruto-uzumaki-rp, kushina-uzumaki-rp, sassykinzonline. I will block you. For further details DM me.

I have IP tracking enabled. Bring it boy.

Asks are tagged #obianswersasks. Posts will be tagged accordingly. Tag list is forthcoming.

(Smut Guidelines coming)

DMs will be open on and off. At times I may leave them off but if you send an ask I'll turn DMs on.♡

I will edit these rules as I move forward with my blog as I see fit. I am zero interested in your useless opinions of my rules. Block me. Nothing on my blog is up for debate.

#obimod txt #obimod rules #rules #important

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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SO I SAW THE GENSHIN TRAILER- AND IT GAVE ME AN IDEA (non req). Childe being obsessed with reader, tsaritsa's handmaiden. What differentiates you from the harbingers is that you're an immortal, you're always by the Tsaritsa's side, and your existence is a mystery even to the harbingers. You're both a loyal servant and a knight to the Tsaritsa, and you finish off the stronger enemies. So the victims are there, but you're not. So Childe's like 👀👀 a fighter.

Okay, I had a night to think about this because it scratched an itch in my mind, and I think I have finally figured it out! So may I add:

(Totally non-canon) Tsaritsa actually cares about her Harbingers, thus forbidding her overly strong and mysterious handmaiden to lay hands on them. It's just a simple command but enough to make you keep your distance, act from afar, and rarely be seen. Because if the Tsaritsa cares about the Harbingers, then it's your duty to do the same.

However, what neither you nor the Tsaritsa anticipated could happen is that one Harbinger gets a little too excited finding all the pieces of evidence and little trademark slashes that are unique to one and the same person, all over the bested enemies and foes of the Tsaritsa. And though Childe doesn't share his knowledge with his fellow comrades, he does obsessively take notice of every wound, the angle your blade cuts throats or the intricate designs on weapons left behind that are a little too expensive to belong to a mere assassin. It's good sportsmanship to know your opponent, after all.

Childe keeps his eyes open at all times, not yet assured that you are on his side or the ones of his enemies, so his ears are on constant alert, his gaze always scanning the surroundings. He's the first one to arrive at any call of distress, always just a few seconds too late since you departed already. But he's learning, studying your ways, improving himself into a finely tuned machine on the hunt.

Until he catches the first glimpse of you. It was just the tip of your sole, mind you, but the next time it's already a corner of your mantle. Then a strand of hair, a spark of your eye. He becomes quicker and quicker with his arrival. Hence, you hurry away before you can even breathe out, becoming more careless and leaving a footprint in the snow as you scramble to not be seen.

It doesn't matter what you do by then or who you are, either friend or foe. Childe merely lives to catch you—preferably in the act. He wants to see how you kill, study your fighting, and learn from it. You are all that's on his mind these days, and he passes by you countless times as he walks through the palace in thought, not knowing who you are and also not caring for some random handmaiden. Until, one day, he's heading back from a meeting with his fellow Harbingers, the lot chatting even after they left the conference room, when he hears it.

The squeak of a sole.

After all the times he chased after you, it's a sound he didn't even know was ingrained in his brain. But it is, immediately alerting him as he stops in the middle of the hallway, slowly turning around. The little group of handmaidens that just passed him didn't deserve even one second of his attention, but... Squeak—there it is. Again. And again.

He's asked what's wrong, but he just lifts his hand to silence whoever tried to shift his attention away from the sound, watching with eagle eyes how one of the handmaidens separates from the others, hurrying down a different path with their squeaking shoe. Childe doesn't even bother saying goodbye as he turns around, marching after you even though the moment he turns the corner, you're gone.

You can't be gone. You have to be somewhere.

Childe is so close, he can taste the (metaphorical) blood that sullies your hands in the air. It's the same as his, and yet delicate, delicious, incomparable. He follows where his instincts push him, passing door after door on the endless dark hallway deep inside the Tsaritsa's palace. Breathless, he waits for a sign, like the squeaking of your shoes or the rustling of your clothes, but nothing comes to him, so Childe holds his own limited breath as he stands in the middle of nowhere. If you are as good a killer as he is, you know he hasn't left, but this is a challenge of limits and discipline, neither of you lacking.

It's enough to hear a small ornament chiming as your chest moves slowly. That's all he needed to know you are standing behind the third door further down the hallway to his left. Childe doesn't need to be concealed anymore as he hurries there, turning the knob that won't budge. You locked the door, denying him entrance. What a mature version of cat and mouse this is, he remarks, childishly laughing as he keeps twisting and turning the knob before slamming his fist into the door, which creaks miserable.

(Throwing some music in here from "Meant to be yours" Loud warning!)

So close and yet so far, it's when Childe's patience finally snaps as he can't wait any longer to find this absolutely amazing, strong fighter he never knew existed. He's too excited to cross blades, share hungry kisses on the floor and create the bloodiest, craziest love ever in existence with you.

But he waited a few seconds too long, and you took your chances with the snow under the window, jumping from the third floor rather than finding out what his love is all about. So he just stands there, in the middle of the room, laughing to himself and groaning from his loss before he decides to follow you, no matter what it takes or how long it takes.

Just like a bloodhound with a very clear scent of what he's looking for now.

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kamilion-en-pointe · 1 year

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Just watched Guardians of The Galaxy Vol. 3 a few days ago. And I mean this with 100% sincerity—I don't think I've ever watched a movie so good it made me want to rewatch it in cinemas, until this one.

Anyway, here are some thoughts that have been spinning around in my head like a microwave lol. And feel free to add your own stuff. I'd genuinely love to read more of other people's takes :)

Uhhh surprise most of this is gonna be about Rocket

Spoilers Below!

The entire opening. I've listened to the acoustic version of Creep at least a billion times since watching it

I love that the stakes start relatively small. They're not going (initially) to save the entire galaxy or anything. They just need to save a member of their family. That's all you need to care

Mantis getting more character development is always really nice to see. She gives me the vibes of a therapist friend, which makes her ending of needing to part from the group to find herself quite satisfying

Nebula. Just Nebula. I love her

I think the movie handled the flashback scenes very well, especially the ones that featured heavy animal cruelty. Choosing not to show any visuals, just audio of a young Rocket screaming in pain. You can feel the horror of the Guardians as they watch the data they gathered

I like the brief scene of baby Rocket pocketing some of the High Evolutionary's tech. Especially once it's revealed he was hiding all the necessary components to recreate a keycard for the cages—something I don't think he would've done if he really had faith the High Evolutionary would let him and his friends free

When the High Evolutionary put a turtle in one of his pods, there was a little kid in the cinema who said, "Ninja turtle!" Which is great 'cause that's also what I was thinking lol

That same kid also really freaked out (/pos) when Peter dropped that f-bomb. It was really cute

I also love that Vocaloid is apparently a staple bit of pop-culture on Counter-Earth? Because that implies either:

A) The High Evolutionary thought it was literally the perfect music genre OR

B) He counted it as one of the many mistakes on his 'Reasons To Explode An Entire Planet I Spent Years Figuring Out A Way To Speed Up Evolution For' list

I'd like to just take a moment to appreciate how great of an actor Chukwudi Iwuji is??? Like, when the High Evolutionary drags Rocket to the pods and hysterically questions how? How could he have known what to do? How could this vermin be more intelligent than his creator? How dare he look down on him?! I was scared shitless

Just... Rocket's scream of anguish once Lylla is dead. After having hugged for the first and last time. Sends shivers up my spine

Floor's repetition of "Rocket, Teefs, Floor go now! Rocket, Teefs, Floor go now!" has been ingrained into my brain for the rest of time (Major shout out to the voice actor, Mikaela Hoover!)

And then the High Evolutionary has the gall to mock Rocket, calling his grief a crying contest. I already hated this bastard but oh boy—!

Which makes Rocket's reaction so cathartic, when he jumps and scratches the High Evolutionary's face off. But his friends are telling him they have to go. They have to go now! Pleading with him as reineforcements arrive until...

They go quiet. And you can't help the dread bubbling inside you. Because we all knew how it was going to end, but we hoped, just maybe, we would be proven wrong

We weren't

Rocket, on the brink of death as Peter screams for him to be alright, seeing his friends in a white void, stacks of cages barely visible behind him. They're flying, they can see the neverending sky! "Can I join you?" he asks.

"Of course. But it's not your time yet."

Me: :')

Rocket seeing a cage of baby animals that look like him, after decades of thinking he was the only one in the universe. Looking at the plaque to see 'Racoon'—that's what he is? That's what he is!

Followed by him immediately scooping them all into his arms. Doesn't matter if they can't fit, or if some of them scramble onto his back. They can't go through what he went through, they just can't!

Rocket seeing the High Evolutionary after all these years of running, being beaten and thrown around, insult after insult flung at him—"How dare you think you are more?! 89P13!"

Before Rocket changes the gravity—one of the things the High Evolutionary boasted only he could control—and declaring, "Name's Rocket. Rocket Racoon."

He uses his name. He's not only found belonging with the baby racoons he just saved, this is also the first time his torturer hears his chosen name from his own mouth. He's saying, "I am not just a string of numbers! I am not just part of a batch of 'failed' experiments! I am my own being!!"

The reveal of the High Evolutionary's actual face was gross in all the best ways. The makeup was just *chef's kiss*

Rocket insisting they have to get the animals out too, even though the initial mission was to just get the children out, and the other Guardians going along with it because they can see how important it is to him makes me smile

Peter fucking Quill going back for the Zune, not for him, but so that he can give it to Rocket!!!

For real, I was actually worried that they would kill him off. The stakes were that convincing

I like that Peter and Gamora don't end back together. It's realistic, and more importantly, it feels like the characters made that decision themselves and not a bunch of writers forcing something between them. And Gamora has grown to care for the group now, even if she'll never return to how she was before

The fact that we can understand Groot because we're part of the family now ❤️❤️❤️

I genuinely don't get why some people thought ending with a dance party was weird/bad? Maybe it's just 'cause I'm a dancer so I associate it a lot with my emotions. But if any movie deserves to go out with a dance party, it's this one. It feels so...relieving, seeing everyone on Knowhere smiling and having fun together

(And, of course, I've also been looping Dog Days Are Over a billion times and smiling stupidly to myself)

And Peter finally returning to Earth, seeing his grandfather, who immediately gets up to hug him? Tears, just like that haha

I also adore both end credits scenes. Adorable

#guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #kamilion rambles #i have so many emotions #yeah i'm gonna be thinking about this movie for a long time #i think i cried at least 3 times and i could see tear stains on my mask #rocket raccoon #high evolutionary

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youredoingg8sweetie · 6 months

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Pre-Jily concept

I have a lot of thoughts about That Day at The Lake™ and how Lily/The Mauraders recover. I also think a lot about the fact that Peter was as ingrained in the group and that he was GOOD before being corrupted by fear and zealots - which is what makes the betrayal so heart-wrenching. Sirius x Lily is my BroTP but I wanted to consider a moment of connection between Peter and Lily that may have that might lead to a deeper friendship and trust. This is what got spat out of my brain.

I haven't written since high school and I overuse commas, sue me.

----

She was hiding. She knew she shouldn’t be out on the grounds. The sun was already beginning to set but Lily rationalized that all of the things to happen today–the potential of losing house points for being out past curfew is hardly her main concern.

When she stormed away from the lake this afternoon, she didn’t have a plan, she just couldn’t keep standing there with everyone looking at her. Lily had stalked away so quickly after yelling at James–so hot-headed–that her original path back to the castle had been a blur with her body on autopilot. When she was taking the stairs to the tower leading to the common room she intercepted Mary and Marlene. They weren’t even there, maybe they didn’t know? Her question was quickly answered by the way they were looking at her. Like she was a wounded, broken thing.

“Lily!” Mary started, “Remus is looking for you, he told us every–”

Lily had turned without a word racing down the stairs. Ignoring the call of her friends after her. She crossed the entire castle to stop by the kitchens, knowing that dinner in the great hall was out of the question today. Too many peering eyes, too many silent ‘I told you so’s.’

She considered taking solace in the potions classroom. No. Too close to the Slytherin common room, and the first place Sev would look for her, if he had any intention of doing so. She had wandered outside, past the whomping willow, and reached the greenhouses as her stomach started to grumble. Lily unbuttoned her cloak, laying it on the ground as a cover for her makeshift picnic for one.

As she started in on the bread and fruit she had nicked from the kitchens Lily couldn’t stop her mind from racing. She was sitting still, but the day continued to spin around her. Lily’s anger was quick and strong, but short lived. It and the adrenaline had mostly relinquished in her long search for a place to hide. She was left with the buzzing need of trying to cope with the madness of the afternoon.

Severus. Her first real friend, once her best friend in this world, had publicly denounced her by reducing her to the blood he had always preached didn’t really matter. Tears welled in her eyes. She may never know when that changed; when her blood mattered more than their friendship… as distilled as it was now. After today, she could never fool herself that their friendship could survive.

She had tried all year to bargain with herself, convinced that they could maintain their friendship as they grew older despite his new friends, despite her growing power as a witch, despite the growing tension between their houses and the world outside of Hogwarts. Lily blinked away the tears threatening to fall. Hurt and rage and stubbornness rising. Severus Snape had made his decision, loudly and publicly, and she could not pretend the boy who once made her flowers would stand by her when push came to shove, when it counted.

And James. Prideful and arrogant and cruel, picking a fight with him in the first place. Cocking it up further by asking her out as a way to embarrass Snape. To embarrass her too, really. And her pride couldn’t have that, so she yelled at him and she turned down his flagrant proposal with all the hurt she couldn’t swallow. She wanted James to hurt. Wanted him to cut him down at the knees for teasing her for a laugh.

She thought they were finally starting to get along too. Like maybe they could be friends afterall. Like maybe the way he sometimes looked at her wasn’t just a joke to make Black laugh. She was such an idiot for believing them both. Her breath caught in her throat - Lily couldn’t decipher if it was the beginning of a sob or a sardonic laugh. As she reached for the water she had stowed away in her bag, the happenings of the afternoon continued to play in her head as the sun started to hide behind the trees of the forbidden forest.

Go out with me. Giant squid. Mudblood.

Go out with me. Giant squid. Mud–

“Lily!” Lily jerked at the voice who pulled her out of the trance.

“Peter?” she looked at the young man who was peering around the corner of the greenhouse, his face flushed in what looked like relief that he had indeed found her. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was sharp, still poised to slice despite her exhaustion. Of the people she may have expected to come looking after her, she wouldn’t have put Peter Pettigrew at the top of the list.

His body tensed, halting his approach to her and standing what he must have ascertained was a safe distance away, “I–” his hands tightened around the small bag he was carrying, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. And to bring you this.” He stuck his arm straight to her holding the brown paper bag out for Lily to grab. “I thought you might need it.”

She didn’t answer him, eyeing him curiously in the silence that followed. Lily dropped her gaze to the package and stood up from where she had been sitting against the greenhouse to meet him. Taking the bag and peering inside she found a large corked bottle. She pulled the cork out and brought the bottle to her nose, her brain instantly recognizing the sweet scent of butterbeer. Lily’s brow twisted as she replaced the cork on top of the bottle. How had he managed to get this? They hadn’t had a day in Hogsmead day in over a month, anything purchased would have gone sour by now. When she looked back at Peter, a small smirk was threatening to show on his face.

“Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies.”

Gaining no reaction from Lily, Peter’s face grew solemn again, looking down he spoke again, “I am sorry about what happened at the lake.”

Lily stayed silent, her gaze not quite meeting his eyes as she considered punishing him too. But her rage had simmered into sadness and frankly she could use a drink. Peter was being kind, in his own way.

“Do you have anything stronger?”

Pete’s eyes snapped to hers in surprise, “What?” Confusion knitting his brows.

“Wherever you procured this,” she looked back down at the bottle, removing it from the bag and now holding it loosely in her hand, “can you bring me anything stronger?” When he didn’t say anything she continued, “You’re right. Today has been shit.” A rueful too-tight smile pulled at her lips, “but if we are going to begin toasting to new beginnings, then I am going to need something stronger than this to believe them.”

Peter looked unsure if he should laugh or run, “I-Uh,” he scratched his head, “Yes. I could.. But–” he stepped closer, moving to join her rather than make his way back to where he came, “but I wouldn’t get away with it. James won’t notice for days that I nicked this from him. Sirius, however? Keeps a much closer eye on his... procurements.”

Lily rolled her eyes, of course Sirius had hard liquor at his disposal. Lily will need to tease Remus about that next time they meet in the library or on rounds. They were prefects after all.

“Fair enough,” Lily said to Peter as she sat back down. “Did you bring cups? Or are we pulling straight from the bottle?” Lily eyed Peter. From the way he shifted under his gaze Lily could tell he was nervous, despite seeking her out.

“Didn’t get that far,” he confessed. “I wasn’t sure you would talk to me let alone believe you would accept it” his eyes darted between her and the bottle as he sat down beside her. “I–Uh, I could transfigure a few goblets if you would like?” He fumbled to pull his wand from his robes but Lily stopped him with her hand.

“Don’t bother. We can share.” She pulled the stopper from the bottle and took a long swig. Not stopping to think why she had decided to accept the bottle or his company instead of sending him away. Savoring the warmth of the drink as she swallowed, her hand extended away from her inviting Peter to take the bottle. He didn’t move to accept it.

“Lily,” Peter looked down again, his voice somehow softer than before, “I feel responsible for what happened today. And–”

Lily bristled. Accepting his company was one thing. His pity, another.

“Not your fault” she dismissed, hoping he would just take the damn bottle from her. He eyed her, unconvinced. “You aren’t innocent,” she conceded. “Certainly you played your part in encouraging them. I am sure you laughed, as you always do when they decide to make a mockery of someone in the name of their own entertainment, spurred from nothing but their boredom and a need to feed their unending egos–” she huffed, “but you’re not the one who took it too far, Peter. You’re not the reason I’m out here.”

Peter finally reached for the bottle. “Why are you out here? I mean,” he took a quick, small swig from the bottle, biding time before asking “why are you out here alone?”

“I am not alone.” Lily answered too quickly. Her words sounded hollow, even to her own ears, unsuccessful in her sad attempt of cheek.

“But you tried to be.” He countered, his tone remaining serious.

She can’t think of the last time she and Peter had spoken to each other with no one else around. Can’t remember the last time he asked her anything so directly that wasn’t related to coursework. She reached out and he handed her the butterbeer. Her eyes shifted to the castle grounds again. The sun is completely hidden by the trees. It’s definitely past curfew now.

“Are you close with your family, Peter?”

“My family?” he questioned, surprised by the quick change in subject. “I love my parents, sure, but prefer to be at school if that’s what you mean. My fri–my brothers, are here. Why do you ask?” His eyes widened in panic, “are you going to ask to go back to Cokeworth? Oh Lily please don’t leave Hogwarts” Peters words were quick and pleading.

“No” She interrupted him. He let out a deep sigh and waited for her to elaborate. Lily took another swig of the bottle. “Sev–Snape. Snape was like a brother to me once. Estranged as we may have been this year, I couldn’t not step in today when Potter chose to torment him."

“Believe it or not, the worst part isn’t even that he called me a mudblood.” Peter flinched at her casual use of the slur, “I am angry, sure. That they got to him. That I could see that he believed it when he said it. But I am more upset that he said he didn’t want my help, that he didn’t want… me, anymore.” The silence of the truth hung between them. “The fact that he called me a mudblood just confirms that we will be fighting on opposite sides of the war when we get out of here.” She outstretched her arm, holding the bottle out for him to take, “I am out here alone because I needed a chance to come to terms with that.”

Lily nearly asked if there was veritaserum in the Butterbeer. The truth spilled out of her with more clarity than she possessed. She was in a tizzy when she had parked herself on the side of the greenhouse, figuring she would cry or scream to fight against the storm of feelings and memories in her head. And yet, in the moments after her confession her mind is silent with calm.

Peter moved the bottle to his lips. After the pull, he wiped a drop of liquid off his chin with his sleeve.

“Snape’s an idiot.”

Lily nearly laughed at that, his words pulling her out of her thoughts. “He’s not the only one.” Peter glanced at her, catching her eye for the first time in minutes.

“Do you mean James?”

“After the shit he pulled today? Of course I mean Potter.” Lily grabbed the bread from her bag, shaking her head as she pulled off a piece and ate it.

“He was really worried about you when you didn’t show up for dinner.” Peter defended, “We all were. Especially once we realized that no one knew where you were. I know he wants to apologize to you, too.”

“Potter is only sorry he got told off.” Lily replied, not trying to hide her frustration. She decided not to comment on the worries of her classmates, her friends. Choosing instead to reach for the butterbeer bottle and take a drink. They were approaching the end of the butterbeer now by the weight of it. The sun had completely set, and the dim greenhouse lights were the only thing keeping Peter in view. Lily peered inside the bottle and handed what was left of it back to Peter.

“You can finish it. Thank you for sharing it with me.” After he took it from her grasp, she stood up and grabbed her cloak from the ground, shaking it to remove the dirt and earth that clung to it. “It’s getting dark. You should get inside.”

“What about you?” He vanished the now empty bottle and tilted his towards the castle. “Aren’t you coming?”

“In a bit. I am going to collect a few Lacewings Flies.” She lied.

Lily tried to conjure a small smile, encouraging him to take the bait that she was alright. Or at least alright enough. Peter didn’t head towards the castle.

“Truly, just a few minutes.” Lily tried again, “I’m practically right behind you. You can tell anyone that’s looking after me that I am okay. It would actually be a massive favor!” Peter considered her.

“I’m sort of terrified of Marlene.” Peter confessed. “If she knows I left you out here alone, I know she’ll curse me. If Remus doesn’t manage it first.”

“I was alone when you found me,” Lily countered. The guilt of running away from her friends earlier hitting her in the chest.

“Sure, but that was your choice. If I turn my back on you, that’s my choice.”

Lily wanted to curse Godric Gryfindor himself - for brandishing nobility as a house trait. Wishing for a moment a logical Ravenclaw might have discovered her hiding place instead.

“I could dock you points for being out after curfew,” she threatened. She was reaching now and they both knew it.

“I would deserve it,” he admitted. “I really am sorry, Lily. About everything. But you have to come inside eventually. Please come with me.”

So she did.

– – –

#jily #mauraders #lily evans #this is the only scene that exists #its the whole concept #one shot #fuck transphobes #fuck jkr

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trinity-mia · 3 months

Text

a story as endless as the ocean

the titan's curse

0.0 prologue

warnings : a lot of underage drinking, mentions of a club, mentions of a pretty toxic work environment, monster attack, allie kinda has a breakdown at the end

word count : 3.2k

early december, a club in new york city.

“Where are you?” Danny demanded over the phone the moment the call connected.

I looked around at the mass amount of people around me. “... Nowhere?”

I could hear Danny scoff over the call, despite the blaring music from speakers around the club I was standing in. “Was that a question or an answer?”

“... An answer?”

Instead of a scoff, this time it was a sigh. “You’re out drinking again, aren’t you?”

I paused. “I’m inclined to lie to you, just so you have plausible deniability if I ever get caught and kicked out and/or arrested for underage drinking.”

I wasn’t really sure when I’d decided going out drinking was the best course of action for the night.

To be honest, I should’ve known better than to let my friends take me out. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down. I should’ve known better than to think everything would be okay.

I should’ve known better.

My night had been shitty well before the end of it. I had locked myself in my at-home studio about six days prior, refusing to be dragged out and only allowing Danny in to bring me water bottles and food. With album finalizations due by the end of the month and three songs still needing to be written and two needing to be produced, I’d decided the best way to finish things up as quickly as possible (mostly in order to have more time to fix any mistakes and make everything perfect) was to lock myself in my room and forbid myself from coming out until everything was finished.

To the surprise of many (read: Danny), it was actually working. The two songs that needed to be produced had been finished, and I was pretty satisfied with two of the songs I’d written, but things hit a bit of a roadblock whenever I’d gotten to the last song. Normally I was pretty good at being able to write lyrics to an already-produced song, but this one was… different.

No matter how much I ingrained each cord into my brain, no song lyrics could come to the forefront of my mind. There was no way only three albums into my music career I’d run out of things to say, right?

Well, that wasn’t exactly fair. I had a lot I felt like I needed to say, but most of it had to do with the Greek side of my life— the side I wasn’t really allowed to mention while out in public. Plus, how many times could I curse out the gods before they finally realized I wasn’t just singing in hypotheticals?

I wasn’t sure what exactly Danny had told my group of outside-world friends, but they’d managed to drag me from my self-imposed lockdown when they mentioned that our friend, Minnie, was in town. She was a K-Pop Idol and hardly had any time to be in the States with us, but she just so happened to be in between comebacks and had a little bit of time off to spend in her home state. Since I didn’t know when I’d get to see her next, I hadn’t put up much of a fight. Plus, I kinda needed the drink.

I had simply… forgotten to tell Danny where I was going. So when he arrived back at my at-home studio to check on me and bring me dinner, all he found was an empty desk chair and a pile of trashed pieces of paper containing failed lyrics.

“Are you at least out with the girls?” Danny finally asked, in a small bit of silence between songs.

I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “They’ll keep me safe. Plus, I know my limits.”

His silence told me everything I knew he wouldn’t say aloud to me. “Just be safe. If you aren’t back here by three, I’m coming to get you and the girls. Take care of them, too.”

Aside from the fact that Danny had my location tracked through Find My Friends and Life360, I knew he would be able to find me because I always went to the same club— it was the only one I knew I’d be able to drink at without being 21 and knew I wouldn’t get caught by paparazzi.

“I will. Talk to you later.”

Danny sighed one final time. “You better.”

Without another thought, I ended the call, taking no note of the extra beep at the end of it, which would’ve alerted me that the monster protection on the phone needed to be strengthened.

“That Danny?”

I nodded at Tori, grabbing the shot of whatever that she offered me. “Of course. He’s always assuming I’m getting myself into trouble.”

She snorted. “Well, you are in a club underage drinking. I think that maybe might constitute ‘getting yourself into trouble’.”

I took the shot and gave her a raised eyebrow. “Technically speaking, you, Rena, and Minnie brought me out here, so I don’t think that should apply to getting myself into trouble.” I paused, taking a sip of a margarita that Minnie, who’d joined us at the bar, slid me. “Besides, I can drink circles around you guys.”

“Oh, you wanna bet?!”

***

I think it was by the time they played my song all-american bitch for the third time that I finally realized I was hitting my limit. Or. Well. Maybe I had hit my limit two shots ago, when I was still insisting I could keep going despite all of my friends tapping out.

Should’ve known better.

Tori had long since joined the dance floor with a random guy (she’d ignored my obnoxious call of “make sure he signs an NDA!”), Rena had left a few minutes prior, her girlfriend waiting to pick her up outside the club once she’d realized her social battery was quickly running out, and Minnie was still stuck beside me at the bar, her company-mandated dating ban keeping her from finding company other than me.

I pouted, my arms crossed over my chest. “I don’ wanna go on a blind date.”

Minnie huffed into her cup of plain Coke. “But you don’t date anyone, Alls. Like, I don’t get how you can write all these songs about boys breaking your heart and love when you haven’t had a kiss outside of your acting roles.”

“Hey,” I complained, sitting up a little to grab the cup of water I’d finally decided on getting instead of another Moonshine Mule. “I’ll have you know I’ve kissed plenty of boys without it having to do with work.”

“How many of those were while you’d been drinking?”

I sputtered out a sound of objection. “You make me sound like an alcoholic!”

“Alls, come oooooon! Tae’s really sweet. You’d really get along with him, and he thinks you’re really pretty and your music is incredible. Which, he’s not wrong, but still.”

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t shoot back a response immediately. Truthfully, it had been a while since I’d gotten myself involved with someone. Of course, I knew why. There was a very large elephant in the room in the form of Luke. We were friends. But we also both knew that what we had went a hell of a lot further than friends. I wasn’t taken, but I was also, like, pretty much a step away from married.

But that also had its own problem: I couldn’t exactly tell my real-world friends about Luke. Because telling them about Luke meant telling them about how I’d met him, and where. It’s not like I couldn’t just tell them a lie, but they were close friends of mine. I didn’t want to lie straight to their faces. Lying by omission was much easier. Especially when I knew the truth would never get out unless I wanted it to.

“If you think Tae is sooo sweet, you should just date him,” I finally replied.

Minnie frowned. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. You know that.”

I grimaced. I probably shouldn’t have said it— Minnie always got really touchy over the subject of her dating ban. I was lucky with my career in that, I was so well established that I could date whoever I wanted with little to no repercussions coming as a result. Maybe a couple of angry fans here or there, but nothing Earth-shattering. Minnie not only had the dating ban, but there was also the looming threat that coming across as taken in her industry could possibly mean the end of her career. When she was still a trainee, only dreaming of being able to debut, she’d had a boyfriend— her high school sweetheart. When that contract holding the dating ban had been slapped in front of her, she thought she’d be able to hide it. They would sneak around, but ended up getting caught by cameras one night. Her company had paid the news site off to keep it hidden, but she’d been forced to break up with her boyfriend. She hadn’t been able to talk to him since.

I sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it makes you sad.”

Minnie sniffled a little, but didn’t let any tears fall. Finally, she looked up and gave me a small smile. “It’s alright, Alls. You know I just want you to be happy, right?”

“‘Course,” I replied. “I want the same for you, too.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, letting the sounds of Usher’s Yeah! fill our ears.

Finally, I chugged the rest of my water and sat up. “I think I need to head back to my studio.”

Minnie’s face brightened. “Yeah? Are you ready to go? I think I’m gonna head out, too.”

***

Minnie had wanted to wait for Danny to get there to pick me up, but I’d insisted she go ahead and get back to her hotel room. Her ride had gotten there much sooner than Danny due to how close her hotel was, but she told me she wasn’t above making him wait. I knew she wasn’t bluffing, but I also knew Minnie was getting to the end of her energy. We’d drank a lot, and I knew she’d be out like a light soon, in a bed or not.

I made sure I was sharing my location with her and she’d begrudgingly crawled into the car, waving as the car started driving.

When she was out of sight, I sighed and pulled my coat closer to myself. The December air was unforgiving and the wind caused by the tall New York skyscrapers didn’t help any.

The drunken yelling of men from across the street set my fight or flight off. I wasn’t sure if they were directing their calls at me, or if they were just being loud in general, but I figured it would be best to not find out. I didn’t want to stray far, but finding a hiding spot nearby wouldn’t be too bad, right?

My first step forward hit me like a truck.

While talking to Minnie, I could push aside the feeling of the alcohol flowing through my system, but now that the only thing I could concentrate on was how cold it was, it seemed my competitive drinking from earlier was ready to hit me with a vengeance.

I huffed out a breath, the air fogging as it left my lips. With a determined step forward, I stumbled over to the mouth of an alleyway, holding myself up against the wall as I willed away the feeling of sickness that was creeping up my throat.

Just when I thought my stupidity had to have met its only consequences, the world decided it was going to show me real bad luck.

A growl rumbled through the air.

My head shot up, sending another wave of nausea through me.

I was in no shape to fight. The world around me was spinning enough as it was. The cold was making my fingertips numb. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold a sword, much less swing it.

I looked further down the alleyway. Two glimmering red eyes shone toward the back. A Hellhound.

Even with the alcohol flowing through my veins, I knew I couldn’t let it leave the confines of the alley. I couldn’t let it get out in the open where the mortals could be put in danger. Of course, they wouldn’t see it for what it was, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be in harm’s way.

I’d only come into contact with a Hellhound up close and personal once. When I was seventeen and still in my first few days at camp, one had been summoned into the borders of camp to attack me. I’d gotten my chest clawed open before I was carried into the water to be healed. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to meeting another.

I took unsteady steps forward, bringing a trembling hand up to my neck where Riptide, my first sword, sat in necklace form. Pressing the diamond hanging from the chain would spring it into sword form, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that yet. Even though I’d taken a few steps forward, the Hellhound hadn’t moved an inch. Maybe it was hoping I wouldn’t do anything and would just walk toward my death with no fight.

Finally, I stopped a few paces away from where it was still standing, not moving an inch. A low growl settled in its throat, making goosebumps rise on my arms for reasons other than the chill in the air.

I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have drank so much. Every limb on my body felt like it was treading water every time I needed to move them. How was I supposed to fight like this?

My hand was still curled around the gem of Riptide.

In an instant, the Hellhound settled back on its hind legs and jolted, as though it was going to jump at me.

My shot nerves caused me to overreact and, with a stumble, I ended up on the ground.

The pain didn’t hit me. My eyes couldn’t leave the beast in front of me, getting in position to lunge at me for real this time. Trying to scramble back in my drunkenness was difficult, and even though adrenaline was pulsing through my veins, it still felt like my reaction time was seconds behind.

Finally, the Hellhound had enough of playing with its food and lunged. I rolled out of the way, summoning Riptide once I was on my knees.

The Hellhound skidded on the ground, its claws making a grating noise against the asphalt as it did, and turned back toward me with a growl. It tensed at the sight of the celestial bronze of Riptide, but seemed to know that I was off my A-game and if it tried a little harder would get an easy snack.

My chest heaved. For a moment, I actually doubted I’d be able to get myself out of this one.

I finally got to my feet, trying not to fall back down when my knees shook with the exertion.

The Hellhound swatted at me with one of its large paws, but I was able to keep it away from me with Riptide.

It advanced toward me, slower this time. I backed up with it, until my back touched the wall.

It was now or never. I was only going to be able to fight off the effects of the alcohol for so long and the longer I took to fight back, the more likely it was that I was going to lose this fight.

When it got close enough, this time I braced myself against the wall. Steadying myself, all I could think about was making it through this fight. Once I won, I could break down.

With a final growl, the Hellhound lunged.

I used the wall to push off of as I went toward the ground once more, this time prepared to do so as I came face-to-face with the belly of the monster. Without another thought, and before it could come down on my legs and trap me, I thrust my sword up and into its stomach.

It howled in pain, but wasn’t a strong enough monster to fight the deadly effects of celestial bronze. As the blood-curdling howl cut through the air, the Hellhound crumbled into golden dust.

I panted as I sat there for a moment, the dust falling on my head like confetti.

“Allie?”

The sound of my name made my breath hitch. Because it wasn’t Danny’s voice I heard, it was—

“Luke?” I called back, my voice strained.

He appeared at the mouth of the alleyway like a guardian angel brought to save me. My breath hitched.

I struggled to my feet for what would hopefully be the last time that night.

He walked toward me as I stumbled toward him. My heel caught on a rock and I almost tumbled back to the ground, but Luke caught me. Like always.

His skin was warm despite him not wearing anything other than a hoodie I’d gotten him for his birthday and some jeans. He always ran warmer than I did.

“Danny called me a few hours ago saying he was sending a car to come get me. Something about you being really stressed? Are you okay?” he said, bringing a hand up to shake the golden dust off of my hair.

I shook my head. “I drank too much,” I replied pitifully. “And the Hellhound— I didn’t think— it really scared me. And I can’t think of this stupid song. And I haven’t gotten any sleep for— for like a week. And— and I drank too much.”

Once all of the dust was out of my hair, he kept his hand there, smoothing the loose strands as a way to soothe me. “Shh, hey, Angel, it’s alright. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

As he pulled me closer, letting me rest my head against his chest, I finally broke down, his words letting me know I was safe to do so.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re alright,” he continued, slowly rocking me back and forth, still petting my head.

“I wanna go home,” I whispered tearfully, clutching the material of his hoodie in my fists.

He nodded, pressing a kiss on the top of my head and keeping his lips there as he said, “Okay, Angel. We can go home.”

* * *

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#alliejackson #a story as endless as the ocean #asaeato #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

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