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leafs-lover · 3 years

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If he's lucky I'll let him join

Prologue: Not Enough

Series List

A/N: This is the prologue and is written from Auston’s POV. Auston mentioned in one video chat that he had a friend who plays in Europe that was staying with him during quarantine (that’s who Trevor is, but he is only briefly mentioned). This starts the day he met Katie (August 2019) and ends with the night in May 2020.

Warnings: A little fluff at the beginning, angst, swearing, drinking and smut (m + f oral, fingering, sex and complete and utter dominance by Freddie), voyeurism

Word Count: 8000

It was a hot Arizona day; you could already feel beads of sweat developing at your roots under your hat. It was barely 10am, but it was already nearing 100°F, and it was only going to get hotter. Walking in and taking off your Oakley’s it took a few seconds for your eyes to the change in lighting.

You weren’t even sure she was real at first, the way the light filtered through the large windows and kissed her skin. Her long hair tied behind her head flowing down her back, bright blue eyes staring back at you. But the thing you noticed first was her smile. God her smile was captivating.

Standing there talking to her twenty minutes after she had handed you your drink, you just kept trying to make her laugh, hoping to get a glimpse of her smile one more time. The two of you exchanged numbers and started hanging out. You didn’t even play the “Auston Matthews hockey player” card with her. She didn’t even know until one day a few weeks later you were picking her up after practicing in Phoenix and she saw the hockey sticks in the car. And even then she didn’t seem too phased by it.

You only had about 5 weeks with her before having to leave for training camp, but they were the best five weeks. She would spend her days off by your pool, her boxer Carlos swimming around. There were countless sleepovers and impromptu dates.

One day you picked her up after work and she dragged you into a vintage shop. Forcing you to try on ridiculous outfits and even finding a monocle for one of them. Blue feather boa around your neck, black top hat on your head with your arm over her shoulder while she was in a blue coloured 1950‘s dress that had a poodle skirt. It was the most ridiculous you had looked, but Katie had never looked better. She didn’t hesitate to pull your phone from your pocket and snap a few pictures, one them even ended up as your lock screen for a little bit.

She took you to her favourite spot, a two hour hike through the desert that lead to a lookout. There was rolling hills with winding roads and it overlooked Scottsdale. You also took her to your favourite sunset spot. Your roof.

You had taken a few girls up there before, your roommate Trevor used to tease you about it but it was different with Katie. The two of you stayed up there for hours, long after the sun had set and the stars had come out. You talked about anything and everything, only going inside after her third yawn in 15 minutes. Only then did you realize it was after 2am.

Leaving for the season you’d still text a few times a week, facetime and even sent flowers when her dog was sick. You wished you met her sooner; you had driven by that café every day going to the rink, why didn’t you ever stop by before? Those five weeks just went by too quick.

Everything with her seemed to be going well, and maybe at some point there could be a future for the two of you. Katie had just gotten out of a relationship a few months before meeting you and wasn’t looking for anything too serious. You remember thinking that maybe after next summer where you would have three months to spend together it could be better. Maybe she would be ready then.

Even still you carried on with the season slowly finding yourself with less time to chat. Instead of facetiming twice a week, it turned to once a week and then every other. Lying in bed awake at night you sometimes find yourself scrolling through the pictures on your phone, reliving those moments.

Meeting Y/N she instantly reminded you of Katie. Maybe it was her smile, or maybe it was her laugh. But there was warmth about her, a familiarity. You were instantly brought back to the clothing shop, and the nights on your roof. You remembered all those mornings waking up before Katie, her hair a mess wearing nothing but your t-shirt as she snored lightly beside you.

Leaving the party that night you called her, wanting to hear her voice. You stayed up probably an hour later than you should have just listening to her laugh on the other end of the phone. You even managed to find a few days where she could come down and you got Y/N out of your mind after that.

Weeks went by and you didn’t think of Y/N, even when you saw her at dinner with Fred. You quickly realized that everything you were feeling for Y/N was just lust; there was no real emotional connection with her.

Seeing her at Early Mercy you told yourself it was just the dress, Katie had a similar one she had worn when she visited. But you weren’t entirely sure you believed it. It was weird how one smirk and your hands on Y/N’s hips had brought everything rushing back. Like a dam being opened up, you found yourself once again thinking of two women.

But before you could process what you were feeling for Y/N. What was real, what was tricks your mind was playing on you, the league shut down and you were back in Scottsdale with Fred and Trev. The three of you lounging by the pool, having relaxing days with Felix, even hitting up the golf courses a few times.

Katie, being a barista, she wasn’t considered essential and you got to spend some time with her during the lockdown. It started with just a night or two together each week, and slowly you found her and Carlos over at your place more often.

Not able to take her out you ordered in a couple dinners but Fred and Trevor would be there too. Living together and all. You had said hi to Y/N a couple times while Fred Facetimed with her, but overall you didn’t talk to her a lot. Your feelings for Y/N went away as your feelings for Katie re-emerged.

You still got the idea Katie wasn’t looking for anything too serious. Sometimes lying in bed with her wrapped in your arms you thought you were the only person in her world. But then there were other moments you felt the complete opposite, just a small piece of her life.

She would leave and you wouldn’t hear from her for days. She would send you a couple texts and then it would be radio silence for hours. When she was with you she kept her phone on tight wraps, quickly reacting to alerts. She often would walk out of the room for phone calls, coming back saying he mom or sister said hi. It could be nothing, but given how you have done those exact things to women before it made you think there was something else going on.

But you really realized she still wasn’t looking for anything serious when she not so subtly hinted about threesomes. You knew she had done them in the past, mostly with one guy and another girl. But she told you about one night in college when she got drunk with her roommate and two guys.

Her and her roommate ended up hooking up a bit in front of the two guys. They sat there watching while they stripped the others clothes off and fooled around a bit. Her roommate ended up falling asleep and Katie almost kicked the guys out but changed her mind at the last minute.

She told you how she fooled around with both of them for hours. The alcohol in her blood led to her first threesome with two men and she described it as her favourite night. Not long after that she met her ex and they were together for a few years but he had no interest in anything like that so she didn’t participate in any more. Now that she was single she made it known she was very open to more. With two guys, with another girl, it didn’t seem like it mattered.

It started so slowly you didn’t even notice. She would not so subtly ask “where is Trev” when he was out getting groceries. Then she would get a little too close while offering to help him with dinner.

A week ago after a few drinks she was very obviously flirting with Fred in your kitchen. She slowly ran her fingers over his wrist asking about his watch, her body almost pressed against him. The next day she asked him to rub sunscreen on her back and pulled her hair to expose her skin but you were only 10 ft. away. Her not so discreet winks left little to the imagination and Fred noticed.

But both times he brushed her off saying he had to go call his mom even though it was the middle of the night in Denmark. And Trevor would wander away mumbling about working out. After the sunscreen incident the two of you had a major fight and you didn’t see her for almost a week.

Earlier today Trevor left to go to his parents for a week and Fred was out with some girl he had been talking to. You invited Katie over and everything seemed to be going well. She apologized for flirting with your friends, saying it wouldn’t happen again and you apologized for blowing up about it.

The two of you fell back into easy conversation. Watching as Carlos swam in the pool and Felix panicked from the safety of the concrete. He ran around the perimeter of the pool barking at Carlos, he even tried to reach out to get him and fell and you had to scoop him out. But that didn’t stop Felix from trying to “save” Carlos again; he managed to fall in the pool two more times before you all went inside.

After dinner Carlos and Felix are curled up on the couch together. Carlos seems impartial to Felix, but Felix is absolutely enamored with him, becoming his shadow for his entire visit.

Katie is up in your room on the phone with her sister who is in Michigan when you hear the front door open. Shoes are haphazardly kicked off followed by his footsteps down the hall, neither dog even lifting their heads too tired from the fun during the day.

Walking into the kitchen Fred opens the fridge quickly twisting the cap off a beer. Glancing to the stove you see it’s 1030. Sitting at the bar he tells you about his night, you weren’t expecting him until tomorrow morning. He starts ranting about some bullshit drama the girl started and how he is done with her, doesn’t want the headache.

He asks if you want to go out to a bar for a drink, saying he can use a change in scenery. Restrictions are beginning to lift in Arizona, bars and restaurants opening up with partial capacity. He doesn’t know Katie is upstairs. How could he? She arrived after he left.

You respond by telling him that it’s a Tuesday, nothing will be that busy. But you know that it’s not really alcohol he is after, there is plenty in the house. He is seeking a distraction for the night. Brushing him off he accepts your lie and sits at the island, further diving into his night.

“Someone here?” he asks pulling the beer to his lips. Katie must have dropped something, your bedroom being right above the kitchen and it echoes off the hardwood.

“Yeah Katie” you say dismissively, when you see the spark hit his eye. The wheels in his brain beginning to turn and you knew exactly the path they were heading. You two have shared women before, and your eyes got that same glimmer in them when the idea crossed your mind.

Only difference the last two were his girls, Emily and Sarah. Sarah was a random girl he had only known for a few weeks; someone Fred said there was no future and was just having fun with.

And Emily met him in Toronto. A few nights later she approached you at a different bar. When you invited her out for drinks a few weeks later with some of the guys she played dumb like she didn’t know you and Fred were friends, but you both quickly realized what she was after. He had no attachment or desire for anything further with either woman.

But up until recently you thought Katie was different. You thought there could be something, although she did just reiterate the fact she doesn’t want a relationship about 2 hours ago.

“Yeah?” he asks smugly raising an eyebrow. “Think she wants to have some fun tonight?”

Those words sting. One you knew she was already going to have fun with you. But two, you knew he was only asking because he knows she is into it. He wouldn’t ask if he genuinely thought Katie had no interest.

“I don’t know man” you sigh. Looking up you are met with his dark brown eyes eagerly waiting for you to catch on “I’ll go ask” you finally say.

Walking to your bedroom you almost considered not knocking, telling Fred she said no and ushering him out before she even knew he was there. But you also know Katie wants this, and you want her to be happy.

Slowly opening your bedroom door you see the bathroom door is closed, a flicker of light under the door frame. Sighing you sit on the bed and wait for her to come out; hoping she is in her pajama’s with her makeup off and ready for bed. Instead when that door opens you see her hair still flowing down her back. Tight dark jean short and a white tank top that your surprised can even stay buttoned up, her tits barely fitting inside. Your dick twitches at the sight, just as it had when she walked in your door earlier in the afternoon.

“Hey” she smiles walking over to you. She stops in front of your legs, hands resting on your shoulders as you get lost in her floral perfume. Leaning down her lips brush against yours, her hands tangling into your hair as she straddles you on the bed, a deep groan getting caught in her throat.

You want nothing more than to throw her onto her back and dominate her for the next few hours. Tie her up and make her scream your name time after time again. But you don’t, and she can sense your hesitation.

“What’s up” she pulls away slightly her lips moving to your jaw and neck.

“Fuck” you groan getting lost in her touch tilting your head for her. She smiles at your response and you allow her to continue for a minute before pulling back. “I gotta talk to you about something” you reluctantly whisper.

“Hmm” she doesn’t even pull back, clearly one thing on her mind.

“Fred” you choke out “he came back and had an idea…” you trail off as her teeth sink into your neck and she grinds her clothed core over your dick. “He umm” you can barely focus as she continues to pepper kisses along your neck, gently sucking on your ear lobe. “He wanted to know if you wanted a threesome” you practically whisper out the end out that sentence.

You aren’t even sure if she heard you because she doesn’t stop, grinding her hips down further. “Yeah?” she finally mumbles against your neck “what do you think about that?” You know she is only checking in with you given how you spent 40 minutes discussing her openly hitting on your friends, if you hadn’t of fought over it she probably would have accepted the offer by now.

“It’s up to you” you groan hands gently gripping the back of her thighs.

“Mhm” she muses “but do you want to?”

That question makes your stomach churn. You want to do it for Katie, for Fred even. But if you are only thinking about yourself the answer is no. Literally any other girl you would have no problem with. But the thought of Fred fucking Katie makes you nauseous.

“Yeah” you say softly and she smiles wide quickly bringing her lips to yours. The kiss is full of passion and heat, and you know her answer long before she tells you. Her tongue swipes the inside of your mouth, her breasts pressing against your chest.

“You better go get Fred then” she whispers bringing her lips back to yours.

Quickly flipping her she lands on her back with a loud squeal, a sound guaranteed to make your dick throb. Your mouth quickly attaches to her neck before dipping lower, your tongue swipes along the crescent of her breasts and you leave some open mouth kisses. You hope she pulls you down closer, not letting you leave, too caught up in the moment. That her legs wrap around your waist and she pins you on top of herself. Instead she giggles and gives your shoulders a playful push and you pull away.

She shoots you a playful wink and you saunter off, finding Fred exactly where you left him. At the island, his beer almost gone. His eyes perk up when he hears you, and he smirks when you give him a nod toward your bedroom.

Silently the two of you make your way to the bedroom and a huge part of you hopes she is waiting to tell you she changed her mind. Instead you see her sitting on the end of the bed, stripped from her clothes in nothing but a matching white lace bra and panty set.

Fred mutters a low fuck and you can see his eyes raking over body. Following the valley of her breasts down her stomach to her core that you can only assume is soaked. You swallow so hard at the sight you think she could see your Adams apple pop from your throat, or your dick throbbing in your pants.

“Hey Fred” she says breathlessly walking over to the two of you. She stops at you first and pulls you down for a kiss. You are slow and cautious while she is full of heat and need. Gripping your hands she brings them around her body to her ass, encouraging you to get a huge handful while her arms lock around your neck. She pulls you down, her back arching as her tongue dances in your mouth.

The two of you are locked in a heated kiss, you continuing to firmly squeeze her ass. Her fingers gently tangle into your locks, your hat falling to the floor. For a moment you forget Fred is there, getting lost in Katie’s touch. A slight groan gets caught in her throat and the two of you pull away gasping for air. She smirks feeling your bulging erection in your denim and brings her thumb to the side of your lip to wipe away some lip gloss smeared around your lips.

Taking two steps she walks over to Fred who without hesitation has a hand on the back of her neck. Tangling into her hair he pulls her face forward their lips crashing into the others. She moans into the kiss and he walks her backwards to the bed. Her knees hit, his hands are on her back slowly lowering her onto the mattress.

Once on the bed, his knees on either side of her he pulls back pealing his shirt off. He throws it right at you, a little extra touch. Nonetheless you throw it on the floor, quickly followed by yours. You watch her eyes light up taking in his broad shoulders and the curves of his stomach muscles. It’s not that she hasn’t seen him without a shirt by the pool but this time it’s different.

Fred has a wide grin on his face as her hands begin to wander over his body, starting on his chest before sliding around to his back. Eventually they stop, tugging on the roots of his hair and one knee bends. The two of them are locked in a staring match, eyes never faltering. His hand finds the back of her thigh and gently runs up it, cupping her ass in the process.

“You know I hear you at night” he says and a blush immediately hits her cheek and turning her head away slightly. “No need to be embarrassed it’s hot.” He ducks down his tongue tracing the valley of her breasts, the spot where your lips were mere moments ago. You wonder if he can taste you on his tongue.

“I kind of want to make those sounds come out of you first” his fingers begin to trail up the inside of her thigh and her head falls back. His thick fingers begin stroking over her clothed core and you almost see her entrance quiver at the touch as he pops his head up to look at her face. “What do you say you let me pull those filthy moans from you first, and then we let him join?”

Undoing your belt, the buckle landing on the floor captures her attention. Her bright blue eyes find yours and you desperately tried to plead with her to not let that happen. You can’t imagine having to helplessly watch. Before she has a chance to read your face his fingers press further into her clothed core and a breathy "yes" falls from her lips.

You stand there button and zipper undone but completely frozen. You can see the smirk hit his face as her eyes flutter closed as he sinks his teeth into her collarbone. Your pants slip out your grasp and end up on the floor in a pile around your ankles, staring as his fingers slip under the lace and slowly work her open.

“You should go sit Auston” his head nods to the chair in the corner. “We’ll let you know when we want you.”

You have never wanted to throw Fred against a wall until that moment, and if it wasn’t for Katie’s moan you would have. Stepping out of your jeans you walk over to the chair, a perfect angle for you see everything he does to her.

Pulling his fingers out, he lifts her hips and drags the white lace down her legs. Her hands trail down his chest, gently digging in to his hip.

“Like what you see baby” he asks unclasping her bra.

She doesn’t muster a response, instead pulling her bottom lip through her teeth and giving him a slight nod. He slowly slides his fingers inside of her scissoring her open. You see the two digits curl upward and start to slide in and out. Immediately you can tell she is soaked from the sounds coming between her legs.

His fingers slide in and out with ease, his mouth quickly finding her breast. Her breathing gets deeper and Fred continues to suck and swirl her breast in his mouth.

Her first one always takes a bit of work, but once she had one the second always quickly follows. Tonight is no different, Fred could go faster, and she likely would have gotten there by now, instead he is relishing in every moan, groaning when she grinds her hips down on his digits.

Glancing to the clock it’s been well over 15 minutes of you watching his fingers slide in and out. 15 minutes of her moaning. 15 minutes of you being painfully hard watching everything unfold. 15 minutes until her breathing switches.

You want to be mad at Fred still for making you sit in the corner like a kid on time out, but that hitch in her throat catches your attention and his. He doesn’t stop, continuing his slow but firm pace as she continues to pant his name more erratically. Her knuckles on the duvet are white from clenching it so hard, and finally you see her pussy flutter.

Even from a few feet away it is glorious to watch. Walls contracting around his fingers, white spilling around his digits, curse words tumbling off her lips. In that moment it didn’t matter she hadn’t looked to you for ages, she hadn’t muttered your name. Seeing that, knowing her veins were flooded with euphoria, nothing seems to matter to you anymore.

And once her legs stop trembling that feeling doesn’t leave. You watch Fred’s fingers increase their speed searching for her second orgasm. When this all started you were very uneasy almost nauseous but now your dick is twitching in your boxers and all you want is to watch her have another. To watch her fall apart again.

Her fingers release the handful of the duvet and find his hair firmly gripping his red roots. His thumb connects to her clit and begins to harshly press circles into it. Sensing her second orgasm is near you shifted to the edge of your seat, wanting the best view possible.

And then it happens, her second one in a matter of minutes. Her legs trembled as he fucks his fingers in and out of her. The only sound is her breathlessly moaning his name. Even though it wasn’t your name it sent a fire through you.

Just as you reach for the elastic of your boxers, Fred pulls back. You stop thinking maybe this is your moment, finally you can join. Instead he pulls his pants and boxers off in one quick motion.

Katie’s eyes go wide at the sight before her. The look you are used to seeing on woman’s faces when they first meet Fred’s cock, sometimes they still have that look on the third or fourth time. And it’s not that you are small by any means, you are very long

Fred is also long, but he is incredibly thick.

Some women are shocked when they see Fred, others are scared. But not Katie. Katie looks excited about what awaits her. She quickly flips him onto his back with a giggle and begins to adjust herself between his thighs when he calls her up whispering something in her ear.

Glancing over to you with a smirk she nods slightly at whatever he whispers in her ear. She turns and adjusts herself sitting on his chest facing you as she begins to stroke over his shaft. Your eyes are locked on her dripping cunt; you can see some of the juices that have collected slowly falling onto Fred’s chest. Katie gives Fred a few more tugs before dropping her mouth down to him.

Slowly she runs her tongue up his shaft a few times before swirling her tongue around his throbbing tip, lapping up some of the precum that has oozed out. You can feel her magnificent mouth as if it’s on you even though its feet away. “Wanted to make sure you had the best view man” Fred mumbles but you can’t see him, Katie’s body blocking his face.

With a mischievous wink she wraps her mouth around him and your eyes almost roll to the back of your head. She begins to slowly bob on him, using her hand to help with what she can’t fit. As she becomes acquainted with his size she begins to bring her mouth lower taking more and more of him in. Her deep blue eyes never leaving yours.

Fred’s hands grip her hips and he begins to moan out her name.

“Fuck man” Fred groans directing that statement to you.

“Yeah she’s unbelievable with her mouth” you chuckle. “But just wait until you bury yourself in her man, her walls are like magic.”

“Fuck, can’t wait” he groans as she has taken his entire length. His hips buck up a few times thrusting further into her mouth causing her to gag. You have never felt so jealous watching Katie choke on your friends dick while her fingernails scraped down his inner thighs, just like she had done so many times with you.

All you can imagine is how fucking good it will be with her lips are finally on you. Your throbbing dick, oozing with precum. You are almost positive the second she touches you; you will come undone but you don’t care. Instead of anger you feel excitement and quickly pull your boxers off. Her eyes go wide seeing you sitting in the chair, cock painfully hair and waiting for her.

Nodding your eyes down to your dick in a “you want this” kind of way she smiles around him. His moans have turned into groans, and his breathing getting louder and you can tell he is getting close. He mumbles in Danish to her and she just hums in response and you almost lose yourself in the moment.

You think he is about to finish and shoot ribbon after ribbon down her throat. When that happens you know it will be your window to join in while he recovers. But instead he pulls her off gently tossing her onto the bed.

She lands beside him with an “umph” on her hands and knees and Fred is quickly behind her. Spreading her cheeks apart his eyes level with her glistening slick that has collected between her legs. He dives in mouth cleaning the juices that remain on her thighs before connecting to her folds.

Her head falls back, her long hair resting low on her back. Once his mouth connects to her entrance and his tongue slowly flicks inside her eyes snap shut and her breathing deepens. Every time he presses in further her entire body jolts forward before she finally can’t support herself and falls to her elbows.

“Katie baby” you say surprised your voice doesn’t crack. “Open your eyes for me.”

A deep seeded chuckle falls from the man behind her and she whimpers in response. You can tell she is close, and the closer she gets the harder it is for her to keep her eyes open. But she tries. His nose will press in a little further and her eyes will flutter shut. He pulls back and they open wide.

“I’m gonna cum” she barely manages to whisper before her head lands on the mattress and Fred groans behind her. You bring your eyes to her core and see some of her juices spilling around his mouth, as strangled moans get caught in her throat.

“God you taste like heaven” Fred pulls back wiping his face clean of the liquid coating his beard. His index finger slowly rubs over her entrance and she shudders at the touch.

“Please” she whimpers her body jolting forward trying to have a few moments of relief.

“What do you want baby?” Fred smirks continuing to stroke over her core and she tries to squirm from his touch. For the first time in twenty minutes you feel some anger hearing him call her that. You call her baby. And he knows it.

“I need a minute” she squirms as he starts to slowly press two fingers back inside her core.

“You sure baby?” he pumps his thick digits a few more times. “I hear you with him” his fingers dipping out of your view “doesn’t sound like he gives you a minute.”

He pulls his fingers out and climbs off the bed pulling her with him by her hips. Once at the edge he bends one knee onto the bed, his tip pressing at her core. Fred looks up and gives you a wink and he guides himself in.

“Ungh” she groans as he slides inside her walls very slowly pressing his length inside her. Her mouth opens into a silent “O” her scream getting caught in her lungs. Watching her get stretched by your best friend almost makes you explode all over your chest. Your hand wraps around your length and you begin to stroke yourself, using your thumb to spread around the precum that has been oozing out.

“Fuck you’re so big-it’s too much” she groans pulling away.

“I’m not even halfway in yet” he says smugness rolling off his tongue. You shake your head and you can see the tears pricking her eyes. His hands fists her hips and he continues to guide himself in, further stretching her walls around his length and her eyes close shut.

Finally her ass hits his pelvis and he stops fully seethed in her warmth. He gives her a moment to adjust, rolling his hips slowly but not pulling back. You watch her eyes slowly flutter open, blinking back the few tears that are stinging her eyes.

With a sharp inhale she pulls forward slightly. Fred picks up on her movements and slowly pulls back before the two of them close the gap with their bodies. You continue to tug on yourself, fully engaged in the scene in front of you.

“Fuck” she hisses and Fred stops for a moment. “No don’t stop” she whimpers turning her head to look back at him.

With a dark grin he snaps his hips slowly rocking in and out of her. “You’re so fuckin tight-fuck you feel so good” his voice is low and husky, but it makes her whimper again. He pulls her back onto his cock. Harder and deeper than before. Reaching in front of her she clenches around the duvet her eyes slowly find yours.

“Freddie” she moans and your hand stops. Your blood boils at how his name sounds coming off her lips. It sounds good, too good.

Upon hearing his names Fred reaches forward to grab her by the neck pulling her up against his sweaty chest. He doesn’t tighten his hand on her neck instead using it to hold her in place as he continues to thrust in and out of her.

“Oh Freddie right there” she moans her breath ragged as his cock slides in and out of her dripping pussy. He sinks his teeth into her shoulder, but looks to you through his lashes. You think it’s your time to join; it’s been the two of them for almost an hour. Standing up the chair slides on the floor and Katie’s open at the sound. With every step you take to the bed Fred’s eyes follow you.

His hand slides down from her neck to her nipple and he pulls it through his fingers. Katie gasps while his teeth sink into the flesh on her neck. “What do you think baby” he mumbles sucking a hickey against her neck. “Think it’s his turn yet” he thrusts his hips and her head falls back against his shoulder “I thought we were still having fun.”

“Yes” she groans. Looking at her face you can immediately tell she is barely hanging on, her orgasm hovering on the edge.

“Yes what baby” he runs his tongue over the marks that he has left behind, the marks that litter her collarbone.

“We’re still having fun Fred” she groans when his teeth harshly bite her neck. Fred eyes over to the chair in the corner but you don’t move glaring into his dark brown eyes. He can’t be fucking serious you think to yourself.

It has never been like this. Neither one of you has spent more than five minutes with a woman when the other was there, always sharing equally. But every woman up until this point has made an effort for both of you.

Emily stopped giving Fred a blowjob and walked over to you to pull you to the bed. She whispered in your ear how she wanted you to shove your fingers in her while she blew your best friend. And Sarah had the two of you lying on your backs beside one another and she would spend a few minutes riding one of you before switching to the other. But Katie is different; she is making zero effort to include you, as if she doesn’t even want you there.

His entire hand cups her breast and he continues to forcefully pound into her, her entire body jerking forward with each thrust. His eyes narrow and he pushes her forward so she lands on her hands, her mouth inches from your length.

You think you’ve won, that he has caved but instead he brings a hand up connecting it to her ass. You hear the sound echo through the room, her yelp almost immediately after while the skin of her ass ripples at the contact. You move closer and he brings his hand back slapping the same spot as before, her skin immediately turning red. When her body jolts forward her nose hits your shaft and you moan loudly finally getting some contact.

He soothes over the reddening skin a few times before connecting his hand to it again. The pistoning of his dick has her body jolting forward, each thrust firm and hitting her deep. The burning of her skin makes the tears start to fall down her cheeks. Your hand reaches for her face, your thumb wiping the few tears away.

She whimpers out a soft “please” and you aren’t even sure who she is talking to.

“I’ll stop if you tell him we’re still having fun baby” he says smugly slowing his pace but still driving into her cervix every time. Your eyes snap up and are met with 2 blown pupils. “Tell him it’s not his turn yet.”

Your eyes narrow at his words and you just shake your head. Pure rage coursing through your veins and you are tempted to push him off of her as he snaps his hips once more. Grinning he connects his hand to her ass one more time.

“I mean we both know she can take it, you’ve given her worse” she whimpers at his dominance tone as he aggressively drives into her. “Such. A. Little. Slut” Each word is accompanied by a forceful thrust and he finishes the sentence with another firm slap of the ass.

“Aus” she barely manages to whimper. Her barely audible voice captures your attention and you soothingly rub your thumb over her jaw. “Please” she whimpers practically begging you to stop.

The desperation in her voice is more than you can take. You know the longer you stand there the more he will punish her. It’s agitating how his dominance over Katie keeps you frozen to the sidelines. Keeping your eyes locked on his you take a few steps backwards. There is an arrogance plastered on his face knowing he won. His hand strokes over the red marks covering her ass while he resumes his fast pace once again.

The way her brow furrowed as he hits her deep, her mouth falls open with disbelief, you find yourself bubbling with envy. Katie’s makeup is a mess, mascara running down her cheeks lipstick smeared. Beads of sweat roll down Fred chest while Katie’s moans get louder. Each of his thrusts is accompanied by a moan.

“I can’t” she whines falling further into the bed, her cheek hitting the mattress as her back arches more for him.

Hearing the pleading in her voice, her incoherent sounds, it’s normally all it takes for you to come undone. Finally you notice Fred getting sloppy in his thrusts but he keeps going sensing she is close. She begs him to finish that she can’t handle it but he gives her a couple deep thrusts causing her to squirt all over his cock.

You look away as she screams out, unable to focus. That sound and sight is something you used to relish in, but you have never been so disappointed to see it happen. Disappointed it’s not you. Disappointed she doesn’t want it to be you.

You hear him mumble in Danish behind her before his hips still having spilled in the condom. You are so agitated you can’t even think of your throbbing erection.

He pulls out and falls onto his back pulling her into his chest. They are both breathless and clammy with sweat as he gently rubs a hand over her arm. He begins talking softly in her ear, you only picking up bits and pieces. You hear him ask if she is okay, if she needs anything as he brushes his lips against her temple lightly, Katie only moaning in response.

Stalking off to the bathroom you run a cloth under the tap. Once in the bedroom you toss the towel at Fred, landing at his chest. You see the look on his face but don’t bother to wait any longer, bitterly walking to your dresser and pull out a t-shirt for Katie.

Turning around you almost walk directly into Fred’s body. Gripping your elbow he holds you in place “you okay man” he asks.

“Yeah fine” you reply harshly. Glancing around to Katie she is lying on her back, completely fucked out. A slight moan falls from her lips as you see her breathing begin to steady.

“I’m really sorry man” he turns his attention to Katie at her moan “I don’t know what happened –“ he trails off knowing he overstepped.

“I said it’s fine Fred” you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Tony come on man” he tries to reason “I’m really sorry” he is cut off by a whimper leaving Katie as she rolls onto her side.

“I gotta” you run your hand through your hair. “There’s nothing to worry about. I gotta take care of her, have a good night man.”

He releases your elbow but doesn’t move watching you walk over to Katie bending down in front of her at the side of the bed. You run your hand through her hair, brushing her hair behind her ears. Fred lingers by your dresser for a little bit watching the exchange between you too.

“Hey Kat” you smile when you catch a glimpse of her bright blue eyes.

“Hey” she mumbles groggily, eyes heavy and struggling to stay open.

“Sit up for a sec” she reluctantly obliges and you pull your shirt over her head placing a soft kiss to her forehead. When she loses her energy and falls into the bed you notice Fred has slipped out of the room.

In the shower cold water rolls down your back as you run through tonight. You run through the last 9 months at that, every interaction with Katie. You want to be mad at Fred, but you can’t.

He had no idea how you felt about her. Yes you spend time with her, but you’ve spent time like this with women back in Toronto not meaning anything. There was a girl you kept in contact with for almost two seasons, hanging out with, bringing her to games. You brought her to a team party and even flew her down to Arizona for a few days but it never evolved into anything, he would have no way of knowing Katie was different to you. He actually asked about her a few weeks back and you said you aren’t anything serious.

It wasn’t a complete lie, Katie not looking for anything serious. But you mostly said it because he was wondering why she was blatantly flirting with him. It was more of a way for you to put him at ease over that situation because he was confused by it.

You spend way too much time in there, retracing every moment with Katie. You remember the day in the vintage clothing store, sunsets on your roof or the mornings laughing in bed. You remember the couple days she spent in Toronto. You woke up at 4am to no blankets only to find her in the living room standing at your oversized window wrapped in your duvet watching the snow fall. It was the first time in almost 4 years she had seen snow.

But then you remember why she was there, in Toronto. You only invited her because of Y/N. You had an amazing couple days with Katie, but only because you couldn’t stop thinking of Y/N. Wrapping your hand around your throbbing cock, you know you have to deal with it before bed. You think of Y/N and what she is doing back in Toronto as you tug on yourself. Hand wrapped around your cock you pump it before finally feeling your sticky warmth spill out and onto your hand.

Stepping into your bedroom you see Katie’s hair barely visible under the duvet and pillows. Carlos and Felix have migrated in to the room, and are curled up around her. There is a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on her bedside table that wasn’t there before, and the clothes that once littered the floor are in the hamper.

Fred.

“Hey” you say walking into the kitchen after a run a few days later.

“Hey” Fred pops his head around from the stove. “Hungry?”

You nod slightly and he gets a plate ready for you while you pour some water. You and him have talked over the past few days, played some video games and basically acted as if that night didn’t happen. Neither of you broaching the topic yet and because of that there is still some tension.

“I haven’t seen Katie around the past few days” he says bringing some eggs to his mouth.

You clear your throat taking a small sip of water “yeah I haven’t talked to her since” your eyes dart around the kitchen slightly. Taking an exhale you continue “the uh morning after.”

“We should talk about that night –“

“No Fred we don’t have to-“

“Auston seriously…just….I am sorry for how everything played out. I was in a mood and took complete control. But I shouldn’t have done that” his breathing gets uneasy for a moment and he trails off “it shouldn’t have happened like that. And if you’re upset it should be at me, not at her. Katie didn’t do anything. I’m the one that -”

“Fred” you interject turning to look at him. “I’m not upset about that. Like it sucked having to sit and watch but whatever not a big deal.”

“Kay ‘cause it feels weird. Like I can tell something is bugging you.”

“It’s nothing; I just don’t think Katie and I are going to see each other anymore.” Fred immediately stops eating setting his fork down to look at you. “We just want different things” you further explain.

“What?” he asks awkwardly.

“I liked her man” you finally admit to him and you can see him take in a deep exhale his eyes going wide. “But she doesn’t want to be anything more than –“

“Wait, why the fuck did you let me sleep with her if you like her?”

“After she hit on you and teeks I didn’t talk to her for a bit. When we finally did talk she told me she didn’t see anything more than what we have. I thought I was fine with it, you know she is a great girl so I thought I could be around her, keep doing what we’re doing. But then she kissed you.. I just can’t be around her feeling like I do knowing she doesn’t want more. It’s not your fault, has nothing to do with you.”

“Okay but why did you say yes if you felt that way?”

“It was glaringly obvious she wanted to do it” you laugh. “Besides figured might as well go out with a bang.”

“I feel like a big bag of shit” Fred groans clearing both your plates.

“Seriously Fred it’s not a big deal, it’s over and time to move on” you bring your hand to his shoulder and give him a light tap “I’m sure you’ll make it up somehow.”

Throwing his head back with a slight chuckle you give him a shove towards the sliding door, heading out to the pool.

#If he's lucky I'll let him join #auston matthews #auston matthews smut #Auston Matthews Fic #frederik andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #Freddie Andersen Fic #Freddie Andersen #Freddie Andersen Smut #toronto maple leafs #Toronto Maple Leafs Fic #Toronto Maple Leafs Smut #nhl fic #nhl smut

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mamabearcatfanart · 3 years

Photo

Inuyasha had completed his weekly check of the village perimeter, much further out than his quick daily run, and was now looking for his wife, eager to see her after being apart all day. He stuck his head inside Kaede’s hut, ready to see her bright smile, ready to take her home, but the hut was empty. The older woman was nowhere to be found, probably out tending to one of the villagers, and Kagome too was absent. But a quick sniff informed him that although she hadn’t been inside Kaede’s hut for some time, she was definitely nearby.

He wandered behind Kaede’s little hut. The warm afternoon sunshine spilled out over the meadow and garden, casting long shadows in the taller green grass down towards the willow trees. He found Kagome on her knees in a sunny patch, using a little spade to dig up the gobō roots she and Kaede had planted earlier in the Summer. Inuyasha could hear her huffing a little at the effort needed to pull them out of the ground, the long tap roots seemingly reluctant to give up their home in the dark earth. He watched her for a moment, smiling fondly as she blew upwards to try and dislodge a stray strand of hair that was hanging in her face.

“Ya know, you’ve got someone right here you could ask to yank those up for you with no problem”, he said, startling her a little as she turned at the sound of his voice. He plonked himself down behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder to drop a quick kiss to her cheek. “You’re getting’ too big to be doing that now, koiishi.”

Kagome’s lower lip pushed out into a pout, even as she nuzzled her cheek against his. “You don’t need to remind me Inuyasha”, she said a little grumpily, wriggling the leafy plant stem from side to side in an effort to loosen the dark soil around it. “I know I’m as big as a house.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far”, he teased. “But definitely as big as a cradle maybe.” His arms reached around to hug her, his palms gently caressing her rounded abdomen, grinning as he felt a soft tap against his hand from within. “Hey pup. Were you bein’ good for your Mama today?”

“At least they’ve stopped kicking me so hard in the ribs”, she sighed, leaning back against Inuyasha’s strong chest. Inuyasha could tell she was still tired. She’d been finding it hard to get comfortable enough to sleep over the last few nights, and then as soon as she did, the baby would protest the fast diminishing amount of space available by attempting to push out with its wee little feet. Inuyasha could remember his feeling of combined amazement and consternation at seeing an actual footprint tenting the skin of his wife’s stomach.

“Do you have to do this now?” he asked, worried at how exhausted she seemed. Kagome nodded.

“If I don’t get these now, the roots will be too fibrous to use. They’re important. Kaede needs these to make some more balm for arthritis before the cold weather arrives.”

“Alright. You point to what needs to be pulled, and I’ll pull it. Then you need to rest, okay?”

“Alright”, she said with a sigh, putting her little spade into the half filled basket containing the roots she’d already managed to dig up. “There’s only a few left to go, anyway. And if you help me do this, then I’ll have time to get them washed and chopped, ready to steep them in oil so we can make the balm in a few days.”

Privately, Inuyasha thought that they should just drop the roots off at Kaede’s and go home, but he held his tongue, pulling up the long roots easily as Kagome pointed them out. She was strangely stubborn about keeping up with her duties, as if she were worried that Kaede would think less of her if she took time to rest, even though it was Kaede who had told her that rest was important and that she should listen to what her body was telling her.

With the last root pulled and safely in the basket, Inuyasha helped Kagome to her feet, and she leaned heavily against him for a moment.

“Sorry”, she hissed, her eyes squeezing shut in pain, “my feet have gone to sleep. Ow.”

Rolling his eyes a little at his wife’s stubborness, he picked up both her and the basket, ignoring her protests, and sat down under a nearby tree, the red and orange leaves above them filtering the soft afternoon light.

“Just sit here with me for a minute”, he soothed, rubbing her shoulder gently as she pouted. “The world’s not gonna end if you sit still and relax Kagome.”

Kagome snorted as she leaned against him.

“How times have changed. Five years ago, I used to beg you to let me sit still and study, and you would rage about how lazy I was.”

Inuyasha cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well, I was a loudmouthed dick who didn’t know any better. But even though I wasn’t brave enough to say it, I worried about you then too.” He stretched his legs out, and encouraged her to lay down on her side, making space for her head on his thigh. “You were always fallin’ asleep at your desk, especially when you had those tests at your school.” He scratched his claws gently against her scalp, and she made a small sound of contentment, pushing her head against his fingers. “I didn’t enjoy pushin’ you so hard, you know”, he said softly.

“I know that now”, she smiled, her eyes drifting closed as he continued to stroke her hair. “And really, the world was kind of ending, with Naraku and the shards. We had a big job to do. But we got there in the end.” She yawned, and snuggled in against him, one hand reaching up to pillow under her cheek, the other reaching down to hug their unborn child still nestled safely within her. Within moments, she was asleep, a soft smile of contentment on her face.

Inuyasha gazed down at her, his heart swelling as he took her in. Her hair didn’t have the same aroma as it had when he’d first met her, now that she no longer had access to the products she’d used then to wash her hair, but it still shone in the setting sun, and he’d come to prefer the faint smell of camelia oil she used to give it a healthy gleam. Her face had lost the baby roundness it had when she was younger; now her cheekbones accentuated her beauty, and her long lashes were as dark as ever. Her familiar scent now had an added complexity, the sweetness of the thick sticky droplets of milk her breasts were already producing. He could hear the slow steady beat of her heart as she finally slept, accompanied by the much faster beat of their child’s. Their child.

The plum trees had just begun to bloom when they had realised that Kagome was pregnant, and their baby would probably arrive before the first snow fell. It was still something he couldn’t quite get his head around. He couldn’t deny he was anxious about the birth and all the possible things that might go wrong.

Even though he was living proof that a human and a youkai could produce a healthy child, he still fretted that the birth might be more difficult for Kagome, or there might be something medically wrong with the baby because of their mixed heritage. He was anxious that he would not be able to handle not being able to help Kagome when she was in pain – he’d never been able to stomach that. And he didn’t even know how to hold a baby, let alone know the right things to do when he had never had the example of his own father to follow. But there was one thing he was definitely sure of.

This child of theirs would know that it was wanted from the moment it was born, would know the surety of having a safe roof over their head and a full belly every night. This child would know that it was loved.

Whenever he felt his anxiety reach up to strangle him, all he had to do was listen to their combined heart beats, and he knew he would find the strength to protect them, come what may. His family.

A soft rumbling sound began, complementing the double heart beats, and he grinned. Despite Kagome swearing that he must be hearing things, because there was no way that she snored, it had happened every night for the last ten day once she finally made it into a deep sleep. Kaede had said that it was nothing to be concerned about, despite Kagome’s embarrassment. He couldn’t wait to tease her a little when she woke up.

Kaede arrived soon after, and silently took the basket of gobō roots with a nod and a smile. The sun would be setting soon, bringing the chill of the evening air, but with Kagome finally getting the rest she needed, he was in no hurry to move. He would watch over them, and keep his little family warm.

#felt like writing a little something soft to go with this soft picture #little inukag family #Kagomama and Inupapa #inukag fanart #mamabearcat fanart #Mamabearcat fanfic #gobō root is also known as burdock and is used in lots of traditional Japanese medicine as well as for eating as a vegetable

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kth1 · 4 years

Text

Cut Shot [MYG]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another day, another play.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not everything is about being physical.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod your head, unashamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

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

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

You missed this, you missed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi –“

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

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

“Feel good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Babe, I’m…“

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

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

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

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

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

“A lot better.”

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

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

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

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

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Titty-twisters.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s my girlfriend!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

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

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

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

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes.

“Are you mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky.

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

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook keep you up?”

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

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

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was working.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess I deserve that, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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redroomwidows · 3 years

Text

Wildest Dreams | F.W

SUMMARY: They’re in a war, everyone’s life is on the line and Fred doesn’t want Y/n to forget him.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: fluff, but then angst. canon character death...not described, but there’s some grief.

A/N: This is my second piece for @gcdric’s Taylor Swift writing challenge! This fic doesn’t follow the song as much as Mr. Perfectly Fine did, it’s very much a looser interpretation of it. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

fun fact! I’ve never actually written for Fred before, so this may be really ooc. I’m apologiding in advance lol but hopefully it’s not too ooc!

Fred Weasley x fem! reader

‘Say you'll remember me’

It was quiet.

Silent even. Usually, this would worry Y/n, but today, today it was calming and was a reminder that neither her nor Fred were in imminent danger. Their shared bedroom had rays of sunlight beaming through the curtains and Y/n almost blamed herself for not shutting them properly when she first woke up because of the light on her eyes. Almost. Because when she rolled over, she realised the sunlight let her see Fred’s sleeping face and let her admire the bronze and gold mixed amidst the ginger of his hair.

“Mornin’ love,” he croaks and Y/n smiles slightly, of course he wasn’t actually asleep

“Morning,” Fred slowly opens his eyes and raises an eyebrow slightly

“Were you watching me?”

“Maybe,”

“Weirdo,” he tries to stay serious, but a wide smile breaks through and he scoots closer to his fiancé, snuggling into her shoulder “What were you thinking about?”

“Hm, nothing,”

“So, you were just staring at me?” Fred knew when she was thinking, he always had.

“Fine,” Y/n sighs “I was thinking about how pretty you are,”

“Pretty?” Fred raises his head from her shoulder and looks her in the eyes “You mean handsome,”

“Nope,” she pops the p “pretty,” then kisses his nose, something she knew he hated.

“No, handsome,” he insists

“Pretty,” Y/n sings and Fred raises his hands up in a tickling motion

“Say I’m handsome,”

“Pretty,” she repeats and starts laughing even before Fred’s touched her, and when he does and starts moving his finger around, she laughs louder, kicking about “Stop!”

“Say I’m handsome!”

“Freddie!”

“Say it!” he keeps tickling her and when she starts to struggle to breathe, she shouts out:

“Fine! Fine! Handsome! I was thinking you were handsome!” he stops and Y/n lays still for a moment, breathing deeply and Fred watches, his elbow squashed into the bed as he holds his head in his hand.

Eventually, Y/n regains her breath and leans in to whisper in Fred’s ear “Pretty,”. He doesn’t tickle her this time, just smiles fondly as she giggles to herself, staring up at the ceiling. He’d let her have this one, in fact if he himself wasn’t so stubborn, he’d let her win every time. He liked her like this, calm and happy, unable to keep a smile off her face. He wanted to see her like this forever.

“Let’s run away,”

“What?” Y/n turns to Fred, eyes still glassy from his ‘attack’

“Let’s run away,” he repeats, but he can tell Y/n is still confused “leave here and find a cottage in the woods or something,”

“Fred… are you being serious?”

“Yes!” Fred smiles and excitement floods his voice “Bill and Fleur did it, why can't we?”

“We’re not Bill and Fleur,” Y/n says in disbelief, not sure if Fred was joking or not “they have a baby on the way, your future niece or nephew,”

“Yours to,” Fred gestures to the ring on her left finger proudly. He’d proposed their first year out of Hogwarts, Molly had said it was too soon but when Death Eater attacks became more frequent, she was happy to see her son so happy. She also knew Fred wouldn’t listen to her anyway. He loved Y/n L/n and he would marry her anywhere, anytime. But soon preferably. He adored the idea of being able to say ‘my wife’ and he wanted to call her Mrs Weasley and come up with a whole new branch of nicknames for her based on her new status. But he had to wait, he could do that.

“Our future niece or nephew,” she corrects, “and you and George have the shop,”

“It’s not even open at the moment,” Fred mutters quietly, knowing Y/n was right, but still wanting to believe for a minute more that they could leave “Please?”

“You know we can’t go…” Y/n takes a deep breath as the somewhat jokey conversation becomes serious “we’re gonna be needed…” she looks left and out the window, holding a hand over her stomach.

“I know,” Fred smiles, putting his hand over Y/n’s “Can’t blame me for being in love with ya,”

“Guess I can’t,” Y/n smiles with him as she remembers the last time he said that to her.

It was their last year at Hogwarts and George and Fred had finally grown tired of Umbridge. They haven’t fully told Y/n the plan, but she knew they weren’t coming back. Fred had minutes to say goodbye before him and George had to set the plan into the motion, and he was grabbing Y/n’s hands so tightly she thought the circulation might never come back.

“Come with us,” he whispers and she looks down, smiling lightly

“You know I can’t,”

“Why not?”

“My parents would kill me,” she laughs and presses a kiss to his lips, whispering into them “You would kill me,”

“I would,” he nods “What are you thinking, throwing away your future for a boy?”

“A ginger one nonetheless!” Y/n gasps, playing along

“Oi!” George shouts from behind a door and Y/n laughs as Fred shouts out to him

“Stop eavesdropping you prat!” shuffling is heard and Y/n gazes at Fred again, trying to memorise his face before he leaves.

“Promise you’ll write?”

“Of course. You can hear everything about mine and Georgie’s experiments and how I came up with all of the ideas” Y/n would laugh, but all she can manage is an amused brow raise

“And you’ll be here for graduation?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he nods “Promise,” There’s a knock on the door, a signal Fred needed to go.

“I love you,” Y/n says quickly

“I love you too,” They share one more kiss and Fred whispers into her lips “Come with me?”

“Fred!”

“Can’t blame me for being in love with ya!” with that, he gives her hands a final squeeze before leaving, giving her a wink as he shuts the door.

“Y/n…” Fred waves a hand over her eyes “you there?”

“Hm?” she turns back to him

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she rolls onto her right side so she can look at him properly “You?” Fred seems to be thinking about his answer and Y/n puts her left hand over his shoulder, rubbing soft circles on the soft cotton of his t-shirt “Freddie?”

“We’re gonna be needed,” he repeats her earlier statement slowly “And when we are, something may happen to me...If I don’t make it -”

“Fred!” Y/n’s eyes widen, completely not expecting such a sombre topic to come up on a Wednesday morning, especially after such a somewhat cheery morning “Can we please not, not now?”

“I need to say it Y/n, I need to get it off my chest, I’ve been thinking about it for days,” he had been acting differently, he’d been quieter at dinner and seemed to want to cling to her and George more, talking about going to the Burrow when it was safe to. So maybe that’s why she gave in, or maybe it was the soft ‘please’ he muttered afterwards that he paired with pleading eyes. She could never deny him, not when he looked like that, so sad.

“Okay,”

“If I don’t survive…” he keeps pausing and Y/n supposes that if she was talking about the same thing, she would do the same “I want you to remember me, I want you to remember us -”

“Of course, I’m going to remember you!” Y/n couldn’t believe he’d think she’d ever forget him.

“I know! I just need you to promise. Promise you’ll remember me and us. Promise me you’ll remember when we used to wake up at god knows when just to watch the sunrise and when the sun used to set in summer and we’d just lay out by the lake. Because you always talked about how it calmed you. I want you to remember how you used to write crap poetry and dramatically read to me and I could never really tell if you were joking or not, so I didn’t laugh and you always thought I was annoyed with you,”

Y/n feels a bit hot in the face at the mention of that, she was just a tad bit embarrassed.

“Promise me you’ll remember the sunrises, the sunsets, the parties and the snogging but also promise me you’ll remember this, lazy mornings in bed, cooking together and cuddling. And promise me you’ll see me again, even if it’s in a Quidditch portrait at school or photos around the flat, or memories or dreams. Promise me you’ll remember me?”

“I promise,” she whispers, kissing him slowly “But don’t worry about it too much. Neither of us have to worry, because you’re not dying. Not on my watch,”. Fred smiles and in seconds, the subject seemed to be forgotten as he bops his fiancé’s nose and starts a conversation about what their brunch should be.

Y/n remembered that conversation now as she stood in a graveyard, staring down at what would have been her future husband's tombstone where she’d recently placed some flowers, right next to George’s.

She remembered the sunrises,

“Freddie...I’m too tired for this…”

“Promise me, it’ll all be worth it love,”

and the sunsets,

“Are you okay?”

“No... but just, watch this with me,”

the parties,

“You have had far too much to drink,”

“Y/n! I missed you!”

“I just went to the loo,”

“Yeah, but I love you!”

the snogging,

“Fred...we cannot be doing this here,”

“Shhhh, tell me you don’t get a little bit of satisfaction from doing this in Snape’s classroom,”

and the lazy mornings in bed, cooking together and cuddling.

“I love you,”

“Are you talking to me or the pancakes I just brought you?”

“Y/n, it’s on fire!”

“What?!”

“Joking…”

“You twat!”

“We should get up…”

“No! Stay here, just a bit longer,”

She remembered everything. She would never forget and while she may only ever be able to be with Fred in her dreams, she still loved him more than anything. She’d be with him someday, when it was her time to go.

‘Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams’

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#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #hp x reader #fw x reader #laniestaylorswiftwc #lightning era x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfiction

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Nonbinary incubus x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

"Keep the Tumblr stories to around 3k words, Ghosti."

"So how long is this one?"

"Oh... uh..." *shuffles* "...Five and a half thousand?"

Haha, yes, as much as I tried, this one is also a bit longer than I wanted, but, for the third story available for the $5 tier on early release this month, I give you 5.5k words of nb incubus x reader. We also have a new location to add to Starfall Springs, and it's not quite what you might expect for the sleepy little town...

Contents: our incubus would probably have been assigned male at birth but they use they/them pronouns, gender/body neutral reader, erotic dancing, and come-marking if you squint...

This has been up on my Patreon for a week now on early release so it’s time to put it up here on Tumblr.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you asked, blinking at your friend in open-mouthed incredulity. “Starfall Springs has a… strip club?”

The gnoll grinned, the look absolutely feral for just a heartbeat. “Oh yes. The Silkfoot family tried to have it closed down, especially after their youngest son was seen frequenting it, but Sarrigan actually helped to fund it as one of his business ventures after he started up his antiques company… It’s doing really well…”

“Well… I don’t know what to say! I never would have thought that a sweet, sleepy little place like Starfall Springs would have something so…”

Mako’s brows rose - as much as a gnoll’s could, anyway - and he yipped softly in amusement and dug you in the ribs. “We’re definitely going there now for your birthday.”

“Mako, I’ve never… I… I don’t know if it’s my kind of place, you know?”

“Come on, it’s not as if it’s that wild. As you say, it is Starfall Springs after all…”

You swallowed, not entirely sure you believed him, but in the end, you agreed to go.

Your birthday dawned bright and warm, and before any of your friends or family could message or call, you took yourself off to the dinky little harbour in the town to treat yourself to a takeaway breakfast from the bakery, and a coffee from the tiny little cart that made the best damned coffee in the universe. It was something for yourself, and it had become a sacred ritual back in the city. Now, as you strolled through the quiet streets, with nothing but your own footsteps and the whispering promise of the sea at the end of the cobbled lane for company, you smiled. Moving to Starfall Springs had been one of the best ideas you’d ever had.

“Morning!” Khargrin smiled as you stepped into the bakery and inhaled blissfully, eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the sheer gorgeousness of the scent of bread and sugar in the air.

You returned the smile to the enormous orc, and placed your order for two of their fresh pastries.

“Still warm from the oven,” Khargrin chuckled as he slid them into a paper bag for you. “Here.” He frowned slightly. “Anything special about today? You’re earlier than usual,” he asked, still holding onto the bag as you went to take it.

Laughing, you admitted that it was your birthday, and he promptly refused to take any kind of payment.

“I didn’t tell you that so you’d give me free breakfast, Khar,” you groused.

He let go of the bag as if it had burned him and said with such melodramatic flare that a mummer would have been proud of the display, “You’ve touched it now! You have to take it! Get out of my shop, foul human! Begone! And have yourself a wonderful birthday while you’re at it!”

Shaking your head fondly at the big orc’s antics, you accepted but didn’t leave right away.

“Any plans for today?” he asked as he bustled about, stocking the display with goodies from the back.

“Quiet day, I think,” you said, “But Mako has plans for tonight… I’m wary.”

“Knowing that gnoll, it involves Midnight Aurora, doesn’t it?”

“Midnight Aurora?” The name wasn’t familiar to you. “You mean the club over on the north side of town?”

The orc nodded. “Yup. And before you say anything about it, my sister works there…” he added with a twinkle in his eye and a lopsided grin on his handsome face.

“I will think very carefully before I tell you about my reaction to my experiences there then,” you grinned. “Anyway, see you Khargrin.”

“Enjoy your day,” he said. “And your night. And if it involves my big sister at all, I don’t want to know.”

You snorted and headed out into the brightening day. The fresh wind hit you full in the face, bringing with it the sharp tang of iodine from the sea, and you watched two merfolk spiralling through the water like racing dolphins, breaching the surface and sending sparkling droplets spraying up against the side of a moored fishing boat before they cleared the boundary of the harbour and disappeared out into the wider ocean.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” a quiet voice said from beside you.

Tearing your eyes from the horizon, you turned to find someone tall and slim standing beside you. With lilac skin, long, silver-white hair, and elegantly-tapering ears, they might have been a tiefling, but you couldn’t see any horns, and something about the intensity of their ruby red eyes made you wonder.

“Mmm,” you hummed noncommittally.

Their gaze flickered to the pastries in your hand and their Cupid’s-bow lips curved into a smile that made your stomach flip over, revealing double canines, both top and bottom. “Khargrin makes the best almond croissants in the whole world,” they commented.

“Just needs one of Sophie’s coffees to go with, and I’m all set for my birthday breakfast,” you blurted unthinkingly.

At that, their eyebrows rose. “It’s your birthday? Happy birthday.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure how I feel about being another year older, but -” you shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Well, not to be inappropriate, but you look wonderful. May I get you that coffee?”

Were they flirting with you? You weren’t exactly known for being able to read people all that well. You blinked. “You don’t have to do that,” you said, stepping back. “I mean… you don’t even know me.” People in Starfall Springs were just like that, you knew from first hand experience already, but still, it was… unnerving for someone like you from the city.

That blinding smile never flickered, but they did shift a little. Oh. They had a tail. Perhaps they were a tiefling after all. They also had hooves, dark and shiny, visible beneath the wide cuff of their loose, black linen trousers. Looking a little more closely at them, now that you were no longer distracted by that gorgeous, heart-flutteringly beautiful smile, you realised that they wore a sleeveless vest, white, and that their chest was flat and their stomach obviously toned. Their arms too were slim but muscular, and they bore tattoos in geometric patterns from their fingertips right the way up their arms and neck to their earlobes. You swallowed. You’d never met someone so alluring in your whole life and your skin began to tingle.

At that moment, their pupils dilated visibly and they swallowed, long, tapering ears drooping a little. “Never mind,” they said. “I’m being overbearing. I’ll… leave you in peace. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Before you could call after them, or tell them they’d got the wrong idea, they turned around, their long white hair swinging in a thick plait right down their back to their tail, and hurried away. Halfway across the street, a swirl of dark, inky magic enveloped them, and they disappeared completely.

“What the…?” you hissed.

Even Sophie’s amazing coffee didn’t taste quite as good as it usually did, and for the rest of the day, as you picnicked with your friends on the sloping meadow above the Temple, lounging while music played through a little speaker and chocolate frosting melted in the sun, you kept recalling the way those garnet red eyes had turned from warm and playful to achingly sad.

“What’s up with you?” Mako asked, lolling over onto his back with his front paws bent, like a retriever begging for a belly rub.

Affectionately, you reached over and scratched his upper chest, which still made his hind leg kick. His powerful hyena jaws softened and he moaned. “Oh that’s so good,” he moaned. “You give the best scritches.”

“Hey!” came the disgruntled protests of his boyfriend from beside you. You didn’t stop, and he shook his head fondly. “Honestly, it’s probably true. Good job I can do other things to you, huh?”

Mako growled playfully, but left it at that. “What time shall we come by to pick you up for tonight?” he asked a while later, glancing up at you with his big, brown eyes.

You shrugged. “What time do we have to be there?”

“Nine?” he asked. “We could go for drinks somewhere else first? Or you could come to ours and we could have something to eat and drink there before? Up to you.”

With snacks and a few drinks in you, the three of you left Mako’s apartment that night and headed over to Midnight Aurora. You walked up a narrow, cobbled street to be met by Erin, Aemilius, and Florian - a satyr, vampire, and a cervitaur respectively - halfway down.

Aemilius heard your approach first, turning to face you to clap and cheer. “Happy Birthday!!” he practically sang at the top of his lungs, and you rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile.

Together, the six of you headed up towards the top end of town, which looked magical that night, bathed in summer moonlight, with the bars and restaurants in the area now lively and bustling where they normally sat quietly during the day. Twinkling strings of fairy lights illuminated the way, and a shop sign swung in the slight breeze as you passed beneath it, showing a triple moon in glinting silver.

Midnight Aurora wasn’t as packed as you’d worried it would be, and honestly it was more of a theatre than a club, though beneath the stage was a dance space on the floor, currently full of tables. Tonight was obviously a more formal night. A bar filled the left hand side of the room, illuminated by LEDs beneath the counter in the shifting patterns and colours of the bar’s namesake, and a drow and a goblin worked seamlessly together to keep patrons happily topped up. Erin was apparently dating one of the bouncers, which was how you’d all been able to get tickets at short-ish notice. Normally they sold out weeks in advance.

Mako dug you in the ribs. “Not quite what you were expecting, huh?”

You had to admit that it wasn’t. It was classy but relaxed, buzzing but not overwhelming.

Currently onstage was a tall, powerful, muscular female orc and you tried not to look too hard at her, knowing that somehow Khargrin would know you’d been admiring his sister because… wow.

Swallowing, you looked away and croaked, “Drinks?”

“Thought you’d never suggest it,” Aemilius grinned. “First round is on me,” he said. “Take a seat and I’ll join you shortly.”

“Do we not get a say in what we have?” you laughed as Mako and his boyfriend steered you towards a table right in the middle of the floor while Aemilius strode away, lost in the low light and crush of people in seconds.

“Just let him have his way,” Erin said. “He probably knows what you want better than you do anyway.”

Deciding, not for the first time that night, just to go with it, you let the entertainment wash over you. It wasn’t all erotic dancing - there was a tap group that absolutely blew you away with their skill and synchrony, leaving you as breathless as had the bovitaur and his set of half-naked orcs that had preceded them.

“I think the variety is going to kill me,” you hissed at Mako and he snickered.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. They’re all really good, aren’t they?”

You had to nod. It wasn’t worth shouting over the appreciative audience’s wild applause. An octomer had just begun her set, involving a rope and a tank below, and you watched as she began and her coiling limbs hauled her effortlessly up out of the water by the rope.

Somewhere just shy of midnight, when the final act was announced, however, a strange and excited hush descended on the crowd, and you looked to Mako who just winked at you. “Wait for it,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

“O…kay?” you frowned warily.

The lights cut out without warning, and from the pitch black, two slender spotlights flashed on, illuminating a pair of dark hooves in the centre of the stage. The lights travelled slowly, teasingly, up over smooth purple skin, up a pair of slender, well-muscled legs, revealing a pair of glittering and very tiny silver hotpants, a lashing tail like a whip, a toned stomach with strangely familiar, geometric tattoos going up the dancer’s sides, over their ribs, and up their neck. A long, white ponytail dangled down the dancer’s back, and you gasped as red eyes blinked out at the crowd.

It couldn’t be? The meek and shy person you’d met earlier that morning was… here? Looking like that? They carried themselves with a quiet, contained dignity that drew you in and demanded your entire attention. Where this morning you’d found their bashful, flirtatious shyness alluring, now it was their stance that knocked you breathless as they stood with the self-assuredness of a tango dancer, waiting for the music to begin.

The music started with the slow pulse of a sleeping heartbeat, and they swayed their hips from side to side, eyes now closed. Even from that distance, you could see the way their eyelids had been kohled, adding further length and depth to their already almond shaped eyes, and a shimmering powder had been applied to their high cheekbones to heighten the sculptural quality that their face naturally possessed.

As if they had no idea they were dancing before a crowd, the strange, alluring dancer swayed, sinuous as a banner in the breeze, twisting and turning slowly, caught up in the low, hypnotic beat. You could barely breathe as you stared, transfixed. The energy in the room picked up, thrumming, and everyone seemed to be sitting there with their mouths open and their eyes half-lidded.

The difference between earlier on the seafront and now was almost unbelievable. Gods, they had the most incredible figure, and with the same shimmering powder accentuating every highlight on their bare chest and stomach, their dark purple skin gleamed in the lights.

When the beat changed, becoming faster and more energetic, they finally opened their eyes but their gaze locked above the crowd, as if they were still pretending not to have noticed you all staring in wonder at them. It didn't take an expert to see that they’d been classically trained at some point, and the graceful arrangement of their wrists and hands over their head made you think of meadow grasses blowing in the wind before the tension returned with a snap and they evoked the sheer commanding power of a paso doble dancer. They were mesmeric, and it was easy to see why they’d been placed last in the order for the evening.

Erin leaned over to whisper in your ear, “They’re an incubus…”

“Oh,” you breathed. And suddenly your reaction to them earlier made sense. Your stomach dropped unpleasantly. “Oh,” you said again. Had your reaction just been an accident then? As far as you knew, incubi and succubi could control the way their influence worked on people, but if they’d simply sparked that lust in you, did that make it real? You felt a little sick at that.

The longer you thought about it, the less the show held your attention. They were undeniably exquisite, and an extremely talented dancer, but it lost its magic for you the moment you realised that your reaction probably wasn’t real. The incubus was feeding off the lust in the room, the crowd’s desire for them, and the action of feeding created more lust.

As the dance seemed to be working towards its finale, you found you could bear it no longer. Abruptly, you stood and turned away, heading for the bathroom. You were the only person moving in the room besides the incubus on stage, and no one even noticed you leaving. Mako tried to grab your wrist as you left, but you were gone before he could follow or stop you.

At the door to the bathroom, you glanced back and found that the incubus was looking straight at you while dancing without breaking step. Even at this distance, they were truly stunning. You smiled sadly, and ducked out, remaining there until their set finished.

When you emerged, the theatre was buzzing. The chairs and tables had been cleared as if by magic, and the space had been opened up for the patrons to dance now. Mako and his boyfriend were quietly making out in one corner, though they were being relatively subtle for them, Erin was nowhere to be seen, and, as you looked around, you spotted Florian with two dancers and… was that… underwear dangling from one antler? Well, he was certainly entertained at any rate.

A movement to your right caught your eye, and you saw that Aemilius had found a partner to dance with, drawing the eyes of anyone nearby. With his sense of rhythm, he could probably have worked at Midnight Aurora himself.

“Flashy vampire,” you chuckled fondly as you watched the pair of them dance. The elf he’d found had glowing white skin, which complemented his own extremely dark skin beautifully, and you watched for a while before going over to the bar. Leaning against it, you waited alone for the glass of water you’d ordered to come your way.

To your surprise, when you turned around to pick it up, you found the incubus standing beside you. They were clothed now in a loose, white t-shirt that mostly hid the form of their beautiful body beneath, but anyone who had seen them dancing knew what lay under the shapeless top anyway. Their long legs were still on full display though, covered down to the mid thigh by the white t-shirt, and they wore a pair of platform heels that did obscene things to the muscles of their thighs and drew the attention of passers by.

“Hi,” you smiled, not wanting to be seen as prudish, especially after they’d witnessed your exit during their spectacular performance. “You dance beautifully…”

“Thanks,” they smiled. “Can I get you a drink since I didn’t manage to get you that coffee this morning?”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

Their smile broadened. “It’s your birthday, and I didn’t get to give you your actual present.”

Something anxious twisted inside you. “My actual present?”

“Mmm,” the incubus hummed. “Your friends were hoping I’d give you a private show.”

“They were?” you asked, turning to find Erin graining at you from the other end of the bar. “They already paid you?”

You watched with sinking dread as they nodded. When they saw your evident lack of enthusiasm, however, they said, “I don’t have to though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that,” you said. “And I don’t doubt your… uh… talents… I just… I’d rather have something… real, you know?”

“It’s just a lap dance,” they said, prickling slightly.

“I know,” you hastened to reassure them in case they thought you were thinking of other things they could be doing to you which the club definitely wouldn’t allow. “I’m not suggesting otherwise. I just mean… this isn’t really my thing, you know?”

That sad expression you’d seen earlier crept back into their red eyes and they nodded. “Not everyone is comfortable with being around an incubus. I understand. Let me use the money to get you a drink, and you can give the rest back to your friends.”

The congealing atmosphere between you suddenly made you want to choke. As they turned away, you reached for them and grabbed their forearm. The tattoos on their arm flared white hot and you gasped, reeling backwards as a short but intense blast of energy sent you staggering backwards. You hit the bar and wheezed as the air was knocked from your chest.

“Fuck,” the incubus gasped, darting over. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

This was not going the way you hoped at all. “What was that? I didn’t mean… I wasn’t going to hurt you…”

“They’re protection runes,” the incubus explained, touching you carefully at the elbow to steady you and get you to raise your head a little. “They stop people grabbing me while I’m working…”

“That happens a lot?” you asked, flexing and making sure nothing was bruised. You were fine. Surprised and winded, but fine.

With a wry look, they admitted, “It’s an… occupational hazard.”

A few people were watching the exchange now, tossing you dirty looks, and you wanted nothing more than to leave the place altogether. “Look, I didn’t mean any harm. I was just trying to get your attention before you went.”

“Well it worked,” they grinned, and you found yourself laughing. They glowered over their shoulder, and the small audience bustled off elsewhere.

“Guess it did.”

“Should we start over?”

You looked at them and nodded. “Sure.”

“I’m Ferren,” they said, extending their hand to you. When you eyed it warily, they laughed. “It won’t hurt you.”

Taking it, you saw the black, geometric shapes pulse white for a moment and let the tingling rush of sensation sweep through you at the contact. Then rather hoarsely, you grunted your own name. Their fingers tightened around yours and then they withdrew. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I… I get the feeling like I’ve insulted you, but I didn’t mean to, I promise.”

“Honestly, I understand,” they said. “Some people like the rush that being around an incubus gives them, and for others it feels… unnatural. I’ll be careful with my ‘influence’ around you.”

“Is that what happened earlier today?” you asked as you let them steer you towards the quieter end of the bar.

They shrugged. “I don’t normally have to be so active about controlling it. Normally I actively have to concentrate to turn it on, as it were, you know? To affect people I really have to try.”

“But not with me?”

“Apparently not,” they chuckled ruefully. “Now, please, for the love of all the gods, will you let me get you a drink?”

You nodded.

What began with one drink on your birthday turned into an hour spent at the bar talking with Ferren about everything, from how they began at dance school, and would have gone into the ballet if they hadn’t suffered with a suspensory ligament injury at sixteen, to how they lived in a small, traditional caravan on the edge of Starfall Springs and loved sour apple sweets almost more than anything.

Drinks that night turned into coffee the next morning - despite the late hour at which you’d returned home - and coffee the next morning turned into a long walk along the seafront, lunch, and then takeaway supper, eaten on a bench overlooking the cliffs just outside the small town.

“Ferren,” you sighed, setting your small container down on the ground beside the bench.

“Mmm?”

“How… How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?” they asked, “You mean ‘what geological forces created these cliffs?’ or ‘how does the tide go in and out?’ or —”

“— no,” you snorted and turned to face them. “How did I end up spending the entire day with you when it was only supposed to be coffee this morning? Is this that incubus charm of yours, or is it just… you?”

“It’s just me,” they said a little dazedly, staring into the depths of their own unfinished food box. “I promise I haven’t used even a scrap of my magic on you. I’ve been really careful.”

At that, you sat up and looked at them a little more closely. In the afternoon light, with the softly refracted light from the waves below casting a cool glow on their lilac face and dark red eyes, they looked like a sculpture or even a doll. Their skin was flawless, their lips full but without pout or pretence. They were just… themselves. Not a dancer, not even an incubus, just… Ferren. “You sound… You sound as if that’s not exactly common for you?”

They shrugged. “People expect us to be promiscuous. I’m used to one night stands and quick fumbles in out of the way corners. It’s been a long time since anyone’s just… listened to me like you have. I hope I haven’t bored you.”

“Bored me? Ferren, I’ve never had such a full day go by so quickly in my life! I still just thought that… maybe it wasn’t real somehow… that you’d just made me feel at ease around you…”

“So you’d fall into my arms and into my bed, you mean?” they asked with a bitterness that cut deep.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about your kind. I was wrong to assume…”

They shook their head and a few strands of their white hair wafted into their eyes. On a whim, you reached up and tucked them back behind the tapering line of their ear and they shuddered noticeably.

“Should I not have touched you again?” you asked, glancing at their tattoos which, mercifully, remained dull and dark.

“No,” they hissed, turning to face you fully. “Gods, no, I… I want your touch but… I don’t want to freak you out. I want it to be what you want…”

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

Their red eyes widened and their lips parted. “Are you sure?”

You were. They were beautiful and gentle and sweet, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss them. “Can you sense my energy?” you asked.

In return, you were met with a question of their own. “Are you asking me to use my magic on you?”

“If that means finding out how I feel, then yes.”

Raising their elegant, tattooed hand to your face, they traced the line of your eyebrow with the pad of their thumb, and then circled your temple. Their eyes glowed as if lit by the sunset from behind, and they opened their mouth, inhaling deeply. The light in their eyes flared bright and they gasped, letting go of you suddenly and smiling. Their hand hovered in the space between you like a butterfly caught in amber. That smile though, blinding as always, illuminated their whole face.

Their fingers then moved back and traced your jaw as they leaned in to kiss you, eyes locked on yours until you let them flutter shut against the rising tide of emotion inside you.

Ferren’s kiss began with breathtaking tenderness, but the moment you let slip a groan, it deepened and they let their tongue taste you. You were sure you tasted of the meal you’d just shared, but honestly, it didn’t matter. You reached for them and tugged them closer until they shifted and instead sat straddling you on the bench, their knees on the wood of the seat on either side of your thighs. Their hardness ground against you as they kissed you, and you gasped as they pushed you back against the bench.

The air shimmered around them like a dusty road in summer, and you stared in open wonder at them for a moment as they drew away and tipped their head back. Another shudder ran right through them and their tattoos began to glow again.

“Ferren?” you asked, cautiously trailing a fingertip over the white lines on their neck that had, only a moment before, been black.

“I haven’t felt like this since I was a teenager,” they panted. “Your energy is incredible. I feel… I feel drunk…”

“You need to stop?”

“We probably shouldn’t do this out here on a public bench,” they laughed, their voice breathless and rasping.

“Your place or mine?” you asked.

“Mine’s small,” they said, letting their head roll forward again to let them look at you, “But it’s up to you. You really want to do this?”

“Can’t you tell by now?” you smiled. If this was all ‘you’, it felt fantastic.

Their answer was a smirk, but they clambered off you, hooves clopping on the stone path beneath the bench, and you saw the obvious tent in their trousers. They raised their eyebrows at you and the smirk became a broad, amused grin. “What a state you've left me in, eh? How are you with teleportation?”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised by the conversational sidestep.

They held out their hand to you and that inky darkness began to swirl around them, beginning at their hand and working up their body.

“I have no idea,” you said taking the offered hand and standing. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all,” they smiled as they pulled you close to their chest. “Ready?”

“I have no idea,” you said, “But I trust you.” And you did. Despite having only met them the previous day, you absolutely did trust them, which was rare for you.

The darkness billowed up around you and obliterated your vision, but when it cleared, you were standing in the centre of a small, cosy, colourful waggon, with an arching, painted wooden roof to create a cylindrical space. At one end was a bed that took up the width of the tiny waggon, and it was towards that that Ferren led you, still holding your hand. The whole thing felt extremely personal and intimate in a way you’d not been expecting. This was their home, their sanctuary, and they were sharing it with you.

They lay you down on your back and you rested on your elbows as they undressed you slowly, reverently, revealing your body inch by inch. “You’re stunning,” they whispered once you were completely naked. And, under the vehemence of that ruby red gaze, you actually believed that they meant it. They didn’t waste any time in divesting themselves either, and when they stood before you, you gasped. You’d seen most of them already on stage only recently, but somehow this felt entirely different here. This was just for you.

“I won’t feed on your energy unless you tell me to,” they assured you as they pressed kiss after kiss up your inner thigh until you were gasping and bucking beneath them, begging with your whole body for them to touch you where you truly needed it. “Look at what a mess you’re making of yourself,” they crooned when they finally deigned to turn their attention to your arousal. And it was true.

“Please…” you hissed, head thrown back into the pillow behind you while they still only teased. “Gods, please!”

At the feel of their mouth on you, you bucked, but they held you steady with surprisingly strong hands, and you were nearly tumbling over the edge into orgasm in moments.

“I want… I want you to…” You tried to speak but your mind kept being wiped repeatedly blank by the waves of pleasure that their wicked tongue and devilishly hot mouth sent rolling through you.

Pausing, they hummed their question against you and you yelped a broken cry at the vibration of it, fingers scrunching their sheets to a tangle beneath you.

“I want to feel what it’s like,” you managed, speaking more deliberately this time and trying to focus. It didn’t really work because they started circling their tongue while they stared questioningly up at you with those red eyes. “Oh gods… What it’s like when you… I want you to…”

They licked a long, teasing stripe and you arched again and swore. “You want me to feed on you?” they purred. “Truly? You’ll make me come just from that you know? You’ll make me spill untouched. I can already tell.”

“I want you to come on me,” you said, trailing your fingers up your stomach for emphasis and Ferren inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until their irises were little more than a slim halo of ruby, glowing like hot embers.

Without a word, they moved so that they could keep pleasuring you with one hand while lying beside you. They kissed at your neck, raking their twin set of double canines over your skin, slowing the pace until it was too slow for you to come just yet, but more intense than you’d ever experienced in your entire life. You felt like you were going to tear apart at the seams and burst with want. “Ready?” they whispered in your ear and you shivered inarticulately.

Their tattoos pulsed white, then faded, then flared bright again. They opened their mouth and you stared, amazed, as a coiling, shimmering mist began to float towards them from you. At the same time, your body ignited from within and you yelled with pleasure. White hot and searing, the sensations came from everywhere, not just where they touched you, and you convulsed as your orgasm tore through you with a blinding intensity.

You didn’t even notice that Ferren had shifted and was now lying atop you, cock in hand. They spilled over you a second later, forehead coming down to rest on your collarbone as they emptied themselves all over your stomach and halfway up your chest. That strange energy still twisted between you as they jerked and twitched, finally lying still atop you.

“Gods,” they hissed, a good few minutes later. “Gods, I’ve never ever come like that…”

You shifted and grunted softly beneath them, and they slithered off you to lie on the narrow sliver of bed beside you.

“You alight?” you heard them whisper.

“Are you?”

With a little chuckle, they said, “Ask me again in about ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” you asked, feigning coy disappointment.

They shot you a sidelong look and laughed. “Alight, five. Tops.”

___

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#exophilia #incubus #incubus x reader #monster x reader #monster lover #non binary monster #non binary character #gender neutral reader

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darker-soft-starker · 4 years

Photo

Starker High School AU, Pt.1 (Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5)

tw: enemies-to-lovers, swearing, mentions of fighting

----

Peter’s day started like most others.

The nearby screech of his alarm startles him into the waking world. Without opening his eyes, he fumbles against his bedside table to grab his phone, smacking himself in the face in his haste to silence it.

It’s always a Herculean effort to get up before the sun does, and today is no different. Squinting against the grey morning light, Peter contemplates simply closing his eyes and going back to sleep. The thought is tempting, the pull of sleep still in his limbs.

Instead, he resigns himself to the day and slips out of bed, reaching for his glasses and propping them on his face.

Through finger-smudged lenses his phone say’s five-thirty-four, which in itself is an affront, but he’s comforted that it’s a Friday and respite isn’t far off. This weekend will be spent sleeping, playing video games and eating cinnamon poptarts until he succumbs to a blissful food coma.

He can’t freakin’ wait.

Hearing his aunt rouse the room over, Peter gathers his clothes and hurries to the shower. The November chill bites as his bare feet touch the floor and he shivers, cursing the lack of heating in his apartment. It’s positively freezing.

The hot water is nice while he showers, but it’s much worse when he gets out, still wet as he tiptoes back to his bedroom. Fruitlessly, he bangs the old iron radiator in the hall with his fist as he passes it, because it does little more than encourage a groan from the ancient equipment.

Back in his bedroom, Peter hums as slips on his sweats and sneakers and readies himself for the day against the tune of an awakening neighborhood, spraying himself with probably too much deodorant in the process.

Finished, Peter puts his glasses back on and in the window he inspects his reflection. He smiles.

It’s Friday.

It’s gonna be a great day.

----

To no-ones shock but his own, his affirmation was proving true.

So far, Peter actually was having a great day.

Because it was late November but the sun was shining so splendidly that it quickly froze the frost from the windows. A small miracle occurred when he found a scrunched twenty dollar note stashed in the pocket of his jacket - and with it he treated himself up a packet of Lays, a red bull and a sandwich from Delmars

And for once, he wasn’t late to training.

For the early hour that he arrives, the school is near empty, save for the male locker room which is slowly teeming with a slow drip of weary-eyed boys. Yawning, Peter dumps his backpack and retrieves his mouthguard, sharing commiserative glances with his zombie-eyed teammates. It’s truly an ungodly hour to be at school.

But, despite his drowsiness, Peter doesn’t mind the early mornings so much, probably more accustomed to it than the rest. It sucks, but he’s happy to get the training out of the way -- it makes time for after school priorities like Robotics and chess club.

He slaps Barnes’ on the back when they file out, jogging to get ahead. Like his heater, his friend groans in response.

Coach Danvers is already there when they arrive, her arms crossed over her chest. Peter approaches the field with a growing sense of weariness, augmented by the flat line her mouth forms as they near.

Once the team is assembled, Coach clears her throat loudly for their attention.

“Look alive, boys,” she raises her voice. “Good morning. I’d like you to welcome back Wilson and Rogers, who, as you may recall, were suspended from training for three weeks.”

Suspended completely from school grounds was more accurate, Peter thinks, clapping along as cheers erupt around him, the remarks are met with fervent enthusiasm for their return. Someone whistles and he looks to the source, spotting the two boys in question in receipt of fist-bumps and back-slaps from the team.

Rogers and Wilson rarely did anything in isolation of one another. They were attached at the hip. It was probably the reason that they were both involved in a fist-fight with a couple of other juniors a few weeks prior.

Peter’s happy to see them back. They’re great guys, have always been good to him. And whilst he steadfastly abhors needless violence, Peter finds himself in a grey area to judge the circumstances. He wasn’t there, doesn’t know what the fight was about. What he does know is that they were both damn lucky they weren’t kicked off the team.

It’s probably because the board knows they wouldn’t win another game without them.

Lucky for the team.

“Enough,” Coach snaps. “We play Kingston next week, six days! You look like you want to play hopscotch instead of football. Do you want to play hopscotch?”

“No, coach,” the team settles, echoing in unison. Danvers slowly circles the group, eyeing each of them down as they fall into line. Peter keeps his gaze fixed to the goal posts on the near horizon to avoid her furious gaze.

“Doesn’t look like it. Are you sure?”

“Yes, coach!”

“Well, color me shocked. Maybe you want to hold hands and paint each others fingernails? Well, guess what, boys - I do not care what you want. What I want -- and what you should want -- is to not give Principal Fury a reason why we’ve lost another match. So you,” she points at Rogers, “and all of you juvenile delinquents,” she gestures to the crowd, “keep the violence to the field. Am I clear?”

“Yes, coach!”

“Great,” she brings her whistle to her mouth. “Gassers until I say stop or until you pass out, starting now. Move!”

Her whistle sounds sharply and, at faced with the fury of her stare, the team scatters across the field.

No one more so than Peter, who flees to the hard edge of the field at her command and commences running, feeling every chomp of the frigid, late fall air in his chest.

Coach Danvers was a hardass. But if anyone could convince Fury to not kick two of their best players off the team, it was her.

Peter had well well and truly worked up a sweat by the time the whistle was blown again and the team was split into three to run drills.

He was wishing he hadn’t eaten the whole sandwich from earlier when Quill rams his shoulder into his stomach for the third time, bile rising in his throat. He powers through it but by the time coach blows her whistle again to switch to the next drill, he’s feeling green, sunburnt and sweaty.

Which wouldn’t be so bad, if a small crowd of students hadn’t rocked up early, relaxing on the bleachers to watch the training.

Amongst them were a group of juniors who were smoking and laughing to themselves. They gave Peter the finger when he ran past, but he ignored them.

“You suck, Parker!”

The colour commentary from this particular group wasn’t uncommon, but Peter didn’t care. He’d heard worse from Flash in middle school -- and they were good friends now.

Not that Peter wasn’t paying attention. Because also perched upon the steps was a group of seniors, specifically, a fair-haired boy that made Peter’s heart do funny things in his chest.

As Peter ran his laps, the aforementioned boy descended the stairs. He leans across the fencing separating the seats and the field and smiles at Peter when he looks over.

Peter would blush, were his face not already pink with exertion.

The boy’s name is Thor.

Well, that’s what his friends call him. Peter isn’t actually sure of his full name but he does know that Thor is a senior and an exchange student from somewhere in Europe.

Thor started at their school in September, qualified immediately for their varsity team and is a super sweet guy.

His locker gets stuck sometimes. It just takes elbow grease, but once, Thor noticed him struggling to open it and didn’t hesitate to hurry over to help. He had it opened in a matter of seconds and had smiled just like he did now. Peter has been smitten ever since.

Any lingering doubts he’d had over the summer regarding his bisexuality were swiftly and resolutely confirmed as soon as he saw the older boy striding down the halls, a head taller than anyone else, smile a mile wide, accent like liquid gold.

He’s just so pretty. And nice.

Feeling Thor’s eyes on him, self-consciousness creeps over Peter as he continues his laps. But he channels it, using the opportunity to prove himself, maybe impress the other boy, running faster despite the burn in his lungs and thighs.

Come on, Parker, keep going.

He looks over again. Every time he does Thor is looking at him - at Peter - and maybe it really is his lucky day. He keeps pushing himself to go faster, harder until his heart is throbbing in his ears. The next time he looks over though, Thor is lifting his sweater over his head.

The action makes his undershirt ride up, revealing a tantalising strip of bare, hard skin.

Peter trips, hitting the ground hard.

Motherfuck.

There is immediate, raucous laughter by the bleachers as he groans and picks himself up, body protesting. He spits out grass on the ground, dazedly noticing the smoking kids, Stark and Rhodes, clapping at Peter’s performance.

Setting back into a jog as his face flames, Peter refuses to look over again to see if Thor noticed.

That would be just his luck.

----

By first period a deep, purple bruise is blooming on his chin and knees. There’s a graze on his cheek from the fall and his jaw feels like it did when he first got braces in fifth grade, stiff as hell and sensitive to the touch.

Shuri laughs at him when he sits beside her.

“That bad?” Peter asks, flinching when she takes his jaw in hand to inspect the damage.

“It’s not like you can get any uglier,” she remarks, turning his head from side to side. “It’s fine, just maybe don’t smile at small children. What happened -- did you try to rescue another old woman?”

“No,” he sighs, pulling back, embarrassed. “I fell at training this morning and ate dirt. I got distracted.”

“That’s a first.”

His cheeks heat.

“Yeah, well.” He leans in closer to whisper, eyes darting around the room. “Thor was there. He said hi to me.”

“That’s it? He said hi?”

“Well, kinda. He smiled at me. Like, he looked directly at me and bam, blinded by the light. And then he did this thing with his shirt --”

Shuri’s eyes go wide but whatever she has to say is curbed by the arrival of their teacher. She pulls out her notebook and points at him with her pen. “New low,” she whispers. “What the fuck, PP.”

Peter shrugs.

Her disdain is evident and Peter can’t help but smile, even as it pulls his injuries.

His fortune again turns, receiving top marks for the last assignment and his teacher wasn’t even that mad when he was caught texting during class. Maybe it was the split lip or the sorry state of his nose that inspired pity from the faculty, but he wasn’t about to test his luck.

He clearly wasn’t going to get through to college through his prowess at football, so he pockets his phone, apologises sheepishly and sticks his head into his books.

Maybe he replays the moment in his head as he takes notes, filled with equal measures of shame and giddiness.

At least May would be satisfied that his glasses were preserved from damage and wouldn’t have to buy a new pair.

By the time class ends, his face is well and truly throbbing. He winces when he yawns, prompting Shuri to roll her eyes at him as they head into the halls.

“You’re so embarrassing,” she says, knocking their hips together as they weave through students on their way to the bio labs.

“Pity me. I’m wounded.”

“Oh I pity you alright,” she says distractedly, nodding to the far end of the hall. “Hey, look. Stark and Rhodes are back from suspension.”

Peter looks over.

Stark is talking to some girl, leaning against the lockers while Rhodes tries to pull him away, presumably towards their next class.

Peter shakes his head, recalling their antics that morning. “Yeah, I noticed. Stark should have been expelled. He started that fight.”

“Uhh, don’t even. Rogers threw the first punch,” Shuri reasons, waving to both boys as they pass.

“Semantics.”

“That’s a big boy word.”

“I’m a big boy.”

Shuri pokes his grazed cheek.

“Sure you are.”

----

The next few periods passed without a hitch.

But the best part of all came during lunch.

It was Mac’n’Cheese day. The best day of the week -- well, the only day of the week that Peter can afford cafeteria food, if he was honest, but he sure made it count.

Fortuitously, MJ had gotten there early enough to secure their group a table together and the lunchlady that was sweet on Peter had given him an extra scoop of the gooey pasta, to his delight. Maybe it really was his lucky day, he thinks, taking a spot at the table.

That would be a first.

He’d been riding on the high of his morning, gracelessly shovelling the cheesy goodness into his gullet when it happened.

“Don’t look now,” Natasha says to his left. “Wonderboy is coming through.”

Peter looks up at the exact moment Thor strides past their table, catching his eye.

The other boy grins roguishly at him. His teeth are so white.

“Hey there, Pete,” he waves, nodding to the rest of the table and moving on

“H-Hey, Thor,” he swallow roughly, waving back. “H-Hows it going?”

Thor already having moved on, doesn’t respond, and for the butterflies beating against his stomach, Peter doesn’t even care. He smiles down at his pasta, heart racing a mile a minute. Wow.

“Hey, Thor,” Shuri imitates him.

Peter swallows, ignoring her, cheeks going pink. “He knows my name. Oh my god. He knows my name.”

“Who cares, the whole school knows your name,” MJ says, without looking up from her textbook.

Shuri points her fork at her in agreement. “Yes. Thor’s a meathead. You can do better.”

“No he can’t,” Ned disagrees. "Have you seen that guy? His biceps are like bowling balls.”

Bucky parks himself between Steve and Natasha, throwing an arm around them both. He puts on a high voice, fluttering his eyelashes. “Who, Thor? I heard he’s a model for Burberry.”

“I heard he does Adidas commercials in Norway,” Natasha adds.

“And he’s quarterback of the varsity team,” Flash finishes.

MJ blinks.

“And?”

“He’s got a four-point-oh,” Peter says dreamily.

He stops paying attention, eyes going unfocused as he imagines their next interaction. Maybe Thor will ask him out, god willing. He imagines Thor and himself graduating as Valedictorians in their respective years, throwing their caps high into the sky and embracing. Their classmates will clap as they kiss. Maybe they’ll then spend the summer in Thor’s hometown, wherever that is. Peter doesn’t know, but maybe it has rolling green hills, cute cobblestone roads and snow-capped mountains, maybe they’ll go on horse rides and picnics where Thor will surprise Peter and propose and --

Someone snorts behind Peter, shattering the illusion.

Peter turns in his chair to find one Tony Stark grinning wickedly, apparently eavesdropping.

“What,” he prompts, frowning when that elicits a wider smile from the other boy, his dark and unkempt hair falling across his forehead in front of his eyes.

“Nothin’,” Tony tucks his wayward strands behind his ear. “I mean, well. Just that you said he’s got a four-point-oh.”

“And?”

Tony shrugs. He holds his pinkie up to his face and wriggles it.

“And I dunno, Parker. Gotta say; You seen him in the showers? Four is a little generous, don’t you think? More like three.”

Peter stares.

Tony tilts his head, conceding.

“O-kay, three and a half.”

Peter rolls his eyes. This guy is freaking bent.

“Well, that’s three and a half more that he’s got on you, Stark. Mind your own business.” he turns back around to the table. MJ, across from him, has her lips pursed in an attempt to hide her smile.

“S’gotta be the steroids,” is what he hears Tony say to his friends before they start to snicker. “Seriously -- you seen that guys’ balls? No? Neither have I. Not for a lack of trying.”

Peter ignores him.

Tony Stark is prickly. A smartass, although he’s rarely antagonistic -- unless it’s towards Peter and his team mates, of course.

Peter doesn’t really get why. It doesn’t serve him to spend longer moments of musings on someone who clearly hates him, but thinks Steve and Tony used to be friends before falling out at some point, way before Peter came to the high school and joined the JV team.

Like he does with everyone, Peter had tried to befriend Tony at first, but it quickly became clear that the other boy had no interest in making nice, sneering at every pleasantry and effort. Before long, Peter’s extended hand of friendship became a clenched fist.

Rhodes and Potts, his friends, seem to be reasonable. Cordial that borders on unfriendly, sure, but reasonable.

Tony, however, seems to get a kick out of the perpetual disharmony.

Whatever, Peter scoops up the last of his pasta, chewing it with a pleased sigh. It doesn’t matter. Propping his chin on his hand, he replays the exchange with Thor over again in his mind, heart racing all over again.

This is the best day ever.

Not even Tony Stark can bring him down today.

-----

Peter Parker wouldn’t consider himself a religious person or a believer in a higher power. He was scientific, clinical. Rarely did he attribute his fortunes -- or misfortunes as it were -- to anything other than deterministic chaos.

But there was something called Parker Luck, as his Aunt called it. Whilst evidence of it was purely anecdotal, it was a theory Peter believed in whole heartedly.

He might not have hard proof, but all the trends in his life end in the same answer.

Parker Luck. It’s a thing.

----

Fortune, momentarily swings his way again during History.

Mr Jacobs, their regular teacher with a stiff upper-lip, is off sick and the sub lets them have an independent study period, which is code for doing fuck all.

He doesn’t have any friends in this class so he utilises the time finishing his math homework and doodling in his notebook. If he draws a few hearts with his own initials and those of a certain exchange student, then, well, that’s his business.

By the time he’s in Economics, his final class of the day, Peter is feeling pretty damn good.

He takes his usual seat in the back row next to Natasha, dropping his books on the table with a thud. The noise awakens Jake, the stoner guy, who sits on his other side. Peter offers him a smile as he takes his seat.

This should be good.

While Economics holds no special place in his heart, Miss Ahn is by far his favorite teacher. She’s young, late twenties, Peter thinks, and is one of the more approachable teachers in the faculty. She worked for some big deal accounting firm before she found her calling in teaching and has always been good to Peter.

She watches the kids as they file in and smiles at them as they take their seats. In her hand she’s holding a Met’s cap (another reason for Peter to adore her) which, upon inspection, to be full of folded pieces of paper.

When she has the attention of the room she greets the class and takes attendance. Curiously, nothing is said about the hat afterwards as she walks around the room, offering the hat to each student and allowing them to withdraw a single piece of paper.

Bewildered, Peter watches his peers and their increasing confusion as they open their pieces until it’s his turn.

He takes one out of her hat and opens it with uncertainly.

He unfolds it. It reads: middle-school art teacher.

Peter frowns.

He peers over to Natasha, whose expression mirrors his own.

“Great, that’s everyone!” Miss Ahn nods and returns to the front of the room to lean back on her desk. A slow smile spreads on her face and Peter, for the first time in her classroom, feels dread creep up his spine.

“So,” she claps, “building on our discussion last week we were talking microeconomics versus macroeconomics, I mentioned an assignment. Who remembers?”

The class collectively groans.

“I know, I know, it’s a hard knock life. But, it’s not going to be that bad, i promise. You might find it fun. Mr Barnes, what does yours say?”

In front of Peter’s desk, he watches Bucky unfold his paper, pausing.

“...Personal trainer?”

“Great. And yours, Mr Wilson?”

In the second row, Sam frowns at his paper. “Therapist.”

Miss Ahn seems pleased, pointing at the two.

“Congrats, you two are partners for the next week. You’re married, you have no children. But you holiday twice a year and have a mortgage.”

“I’m sorry,” Barnes glances between Wilson and their teacher. “We what?”

She addresses the class as a whole.

“You two, as you all are once you are partnered, are to prepare an annual budget for your fictional household. This is the microeconomics portion of the assignment.”

“Are you saying I’m fake-married to this clown?” Sam gestures with his thumb, displeasure written all over his face.

Peter snorts as their teacher nods.

“Right! Just for two weeks. I expect your budgets to be detailed, okay? I strongly recommend extensive research into the respective fields you are assigned. Average salary, student loan forecast, the works. Figure out how much you owe and how much you earn. Rent! Bills! This is worth 40% of your semester grade. Do you love it?”

Peter looks back down at his paper, reading it again. The trepidation from earlier comes back as a pit in his stomach.

"Miss Potts, how about your paper?”

The girl grimaces.

“Divorce lawyer.”

“Great. And Mr Rhodes?”

“Colonel,” he reads, tilting his head as he considers his paper. “Cool.”

“Awesome. You two are estranged sweethearts, supporting three kids. You share equal alimony, rent separately, and are set to remarry. Natasha?”

Natasha blinks at her paper. “Executive Producer.”

His teacher hums, tapping her lips with her finger as she circles her desk. “Single. No kids.”

Natasha grins, all teeth.

“Mr Parker?”

Peter reads his paper aloud, smiling as his fingers shake, feeling each pair of eyes of his fellow students as they await his fate.

“And you, Mr Stark?

In the second row, closest to the door, Tony crumples his paper in his hand. The room is pervasively silent. Tony clears his throat, tossing the paper onto his desk with evident disdain.

“Stay-at-home-parent,” his voice so quiet that Peter nearly misses it.

“Excellent. Okay then, you and Mr Parker are married ---”

Peter’s stomach drops.

Oh no.

“-- you’ve just adopted a four year old. You two met at work, Mr Stark is taking time off to care for the child -- figure out your savings, salary, budget for a new family --”

Tony’s hand shoots up swiftly, his fingers waving in the air.

Peter follows suit, arm stretching high. No. This is -- no.

“Miss Anh?” Tony interrupts, bouncing in his seat. “Yes, hi. Tony Stark, that’s me, the guy you just condemned. Just wondering, is it possible to switch partners?”

The teacher pauses,

“No, it's not.”

Peter raises his hand higher.

“Can you make an exception?” he asks, lowering his hand and looking between Tony and Miss Ahn uneasily. “I think that would be best.”

She places her hands on her hips.

“What’s the issue, boys?”

Before Peter can even open his mouth, the other boy cuts in.

“You see Miss A,” Tony interjects, hands pressed together in a fervent plea, eyes closing, as if in prayer. “Here’s the thing: I just can’t work with neanderthals. They bring down my grade average.”

“Anthony.”

Miss Ahn frowns. The entire class turns in their seats to watch the exchange and Peter feels his face heat.

“Well lucky for him, I can’t work with underachieving eighties rejects whose parents pay for their grades.”

“Wow,” Stark gestures to their teacher, “you hear that Miss? You driving that ‘94 Volvo on my parents money? Gosh, I am so sorry. Let me get you an upgrade.”

He turns to Peter, face heating at the attention of the class.

“Shit, Parker,” he continues, gesturing to him. “You really are as dumb as rocks. I mean, don’t you ever get tired of perpetuating your own stereotype?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Do you ever get tired of being an insufferable asshole?”

Tony puts a hand on his chest. “Absolutely. It keeps me up at night.”

Peter huffs. “You’re exhausting.”

“You’re loathsome.”

“Prick.”

“Princess.”

“Boys!” Miss Ahn cuts in, snapping her fingers, her expression positively thunderous. “I don’t know what has got into either of you, but that is enough.” She points to them both. “Unless you have a real, valid complaint, quit it. Right now. You’re going to work together on this assignment or you both of you will fail.”

Peter and Tony share a look.

“Your choice,” she says, pointing at each of them. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Tony huffs, turning back to face the front of the room.

Peter crosses his arms over his chest and nods.

“Great. Now, not a word from either of you for the remainder of this class. Scott, your turn.”

Peter fumes silently as Scott unfolds his paper and reads it aloud to the room.

“An entomologist!” He shifts excitedly in his seat, beaming widely. “Wow! Wow. Man, that’s so cool. I love Lord of The Rings.”

Miss Ahn sighs.

---

“Stop laughing,” Peter hisses, leaning in closer to Natasha. “Shut up. It’s not funny.”

The redhead leans against Peter’s locker, hand clamped over her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You are not,” Peter grumbles, brushing her aside to get into his locker. It sticks when he pulls iy, like it always does, and Peter has to tug to get it open. “This is the worst day of my life. I’m cursed.”

“You’re not cursed.”

“Who’s cursed?”

Peter turns in time to see Bucky swoop in and embrace Natasha from behind.

“Me. I’m cursed. I gotta be, right? I mean, what reason would there be for me to be paired with Tony Stark? Am I not a good person? Have I not suffered enough?”

Natasha opens her mouth but Peter barrels on.

“And what does Tony Stark know about managing money?” he continues, shoving notebooks haphazardly into his bag, despair increasing. “His dad owns a fleet of Ferraris and a private jet. He probably has a diamond encrusted butthole. The guy hates me -- I’m cursed.”

“Wow. You’re so dramatic.” She looks to Bucky. “Are you hearing this?”

Peter poins a finger at her.

“You’re just saying that because you’re going to be a successful single multi-billionaire or something. I have to be married to the stay-at-home dickwad.”

“Maybe you could teach him a thing or two.”

Peter scoffs, shoving textbooks into his backpack, weekend plans obliterated by the volume of homework he’s received.

“What, like how to not be an asshole?”

“Why are you so obsessed with his asshole?”

“Speaking of the devil,” Bucky cuts in quietly. “Your three o’clock.”

The devil indeed, Peter thinks, zipping his bag and closing his locker. He turns just in time for a stony-faced Tony stride towards him.

“Stark,” he greets darkly.

“Parker. Do you prefer Parker or Princess?” Tony waves his hands dismissively. “Nevermind, I don’t care. So, this assignment? Here’s the thing --”

“Let me guess,” Peter interrupts, slinging the straps of his backpack onto his shoulder. “You’re too busy to complete your half? That’s fine, it’d be best if you let me write it. That way you might actually pass. Win, win.”

Tony looks at him, lips pursed.

“Uh, no. No, and then also, no. That’s an awful idea. What are you, like, a C average?”

“Actually, I’m --”

“I don’t actually care. Listen, as much as I would love to be as far away from you as possible --”

“-- Likewise --”

“ -- Miss A will know if we bullshit her. I know you’re intimately familiar with the experience, but she isn’t an idiot. She can spot your mediocre work a mile away.”

Peter folds his arms over his chest, glasses slipping down his nose.

“You’re not actually proposing we do this together, right,” he queries, pushing them back up. The ire from earlier continues to burn in his chest. “Can you even read?”

“Haha, oh my god, you’re like so funny,” Tony runs a hand through his hair, voice going glib and high pitched. His expression goes serious. “Write your address in my phone. I’ll see you there at six.”

“Why at six?” Peter frowns, taking the phone when Tony waves it in his face. He begins typing in his address, pausing briefly to peer at the other boy. “And why my apartment? Am I going to dirty up your mansion?”

“Penthouse, actually,” Tony crosses his arms over his chest. “And because I have better things to do this afternoon that isn’t aspirating on your sweat fumes.”

“You can aspirate on my ass,” he mumbles through his teeth as he resumes typing, chest going hot.

“Tempting, but no thanks. Are you done yet? You type slow. Do you know you type slow?”

“Shut up,” Peter rolls his eyes, locking the phone and returning it to its owner. “Don’t be late. I’m not joking, I’m not waiting around for you.”

“Sure thing, princess,” Tony pockets his phone, retrieving a cigarette from behind his ear and slipping it between his lips. “Don’t shoot on arrival.”

“No promises.”

It goes unheard, however. Tony has already turned and left, headphones secure over his ears.

Annoyed, he turns back to his friends.

“That guy is the worst.”

If he was expecting sympathy or commiseration, which he was, he comes up short on both. Instead, met with Natasha whispering into her boyfriends ear as she casts him a suspicious side eye.

“What?” He pokes her in the arm. “What are you whispering about.”

Natasha shakes her head, poking him back. It hurts.

“Nothing.”

Before he can retaliate, Bucky slings an arm each around Peter and his girlfriends shoulders, smiling easily at them. As a trio, they walk towards the exit, the hallway near empty, save for a few stragglers idling by the doors.

“Don’t worry, Pete. She was just sayin’ one of you will be dead by morning,” Bucky offers, squeezing his shoulder.

“Um, not me, right?” Peter asks, adjusting his glasses on his nose again. “I’m alive in this scenario?”

"No.”

“Hey!”

Bucky jostles his shoulder. “You saw the shiner he gave Rogers the other week. You already look like you fell into a blender.”

His jaw throbs at the mention.

Natasha snorts. “Ha. You’re a goner.”

“No, I’m not. I could fight if I had to,” Peter argues, as they part the double doors at the exit. Descending the stairs, the couple head towards the carpark and wave him off. “I could!” He yells, walking backwards, accidentally bumping into a harried-looking freshman.

It goes without response. The two share an amused look before disappearing, but Peter isn’t even mad. He’s wily. He could totally take Stark in a fight.

Heading out of the grounds and towards the nearest subway entrance, Peter winces as his injuries are jostled during the descent and massages his cheek gingerly. An old woman ascending the stairs gives him an odd look that turns horrified when he smiles to ease her.

By the time he’s swiped his Metrocard and made his way to his track, his hood is covering his face.

Yep, he’s doomed.

#starker #ironspider #high school au #enemies to lovers

636 notes · View notes

drewstarkeys · 4 years

Text

SWEET TO ME : JJ MAYBANK

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: being JJ’s girlfriend comes with a lot of highs and lows, yet you stick with him throughout it all. Based off of Sweet to Me by Summer Salt.

- NOT MY GIF! ALL CREDITS TO THE OWNER -

“You’re so sweet to me.”

He had his arm wrapped around you as he let out a loud laugh at whatever John B was saying. His body was the only thing keeping you warm as you sat on the beach drinking warm beers in the cold air of early June.

You huffed after a breeze went by as you watched your skin litter with goosebumps from the cold air. The fire in front of you was dying off, which only added to your growing discomfort. You wished that you had dressed warmer but you hadn’t thought of that earlier when you chose a pair of shorts as your only cover-up over your bathing suit.

“Baby,” JJ whispered into your ear, “you cold?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours as you turned to look at him. You nodded at his question and in response, he pulled off the hoodie he was wearing and handed it to you with a small smile.

You thanked him by kissing his cheek, happily accepting the warmth that his hoodie was giving you, “I love you.”

“Will you be sour later?”

“JJ put the gun down or we’re done!” You yelled, glaring at the blonde in front of you. Anger was coursing through your veins as you stared at him and you could tell he was feeling the same way from how he ignored your request.

“Keep threatening that.” He spat back, still holding the gun tightly in his hand, “he touched you and he deserves what’s coming to him.” He added, glaring back at the girl.

Topper had gotten too friendly with you at a Kook party and when you told JJ, his first reaction was to grab the gun, despite all of your protests.

The two of you had been fighting for over twenty minutes, trying to find common ground but it was clear that both of you were too stubborn to give in.

“Let’s climb in our tree. Looking back, looking back, I remember. Stepping out on the moon.”

JJ was sitting on a tree branch holding his hands out to you, begging you to come up with him. He had his back rested against the trunk of the tree and looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

You were standing a few feet away from the tree with your arms crossed over your chest. As much as you trusted your boyfriend, you didn’t trust the tree. It was dark out and you were scared to slip and fall which would cause you to get hurt.

Finally, you gave in, letting the boy help you up onto the tree branch. He had placed a ladder next to the tree for easy access and you climbed it with ease, refusing to look down.

Time passed with the two of you on the tree, your back pressed into his chest as he leaned against the trunk and the two of you stared at the moon in silence.

Every now and then, he would kiss your cheek, mumbling about how he loved you and how lucky he was and you would answer in an equally sweet way.

“Back home where we’re from. Digging your company. Day has just begun.”

The morning sun had barely risen and yet you missed JJ. The two of you had gotten into a fight and he had chosen to sleep at John B’s instead of at your house so that the two of you could cool off.

You thought back to the night before when JJ told you that loving you was too scary, that he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. You had originally tried to reason with him, but he mentioned wanting to break up and you had gotten upset.

You had told him that if he ended things the night before that you would never get back together. That threat was the only reason you two had stayed together, JJ knew that he couldn’t lose you for real.

Your hand ghosted over your phone on the nightstand and texted your boyfriend, giving him a small apology and asking him to meet up. You missed him and wanted to make up with him more than anything.

“Nowadays the waves ride high as we crash on the ocean floor. Dusting off the daisy chain you wore.”

You watched your boyfriend hit a wave the wrong way and he was quickly flipped off the board, falling into the water. You stood up off the sand to look for him, considering it wasn’t usual for JJ to take a hard spill like he just did.

Once he popped back up, you let out a sigh of relief, watching as he swam back towards the shore and came out of the water. He made his way over to you and dropped the board down, a frown evident on his face after his last fall.

“Baby,” you pouted, looking at the small scratches that littered his back. It was clear that he had hit a rock or a group of rocks from his fall, “you were doing so good before that. Don’t worry about it.”

He sighed, clearly not happy with himself, “I’ve got a surfing competition in two days, I need to win to get that money. I can’t win if I’m not surfing at my best potential.”

You played with the shark tooth necklace that hung from his neck as you listened, feeling bad for him. You could hear the stress in his words and just wanted to be there for him, “I’ll be on that beach cheering you on the whole time.” You answered, leaning up to kiss him.

“When life was new and strange. Taking us back for a change.”

“Remember the first time I told you I loved you?” He asked you softly as your head lay on his chest.

You smiled at the memory even though it was bittersweet. You had gone to his house to check on him after he said he needed to talk to his dad and had walked in on him in the bathroom, laying on the floor. He had been beaten up and you were terrified, quickly running to him and asking him if he was okay, despite the fact that he wasn’t. After a few minutes of comforting him, he let the words slip, telling you that he loved you more than anything. “Yeah, how could I forget the best day of my life?”

The blonde smiled at your words, “my heart was beating so fast at that moment, I thought. would pass out. I just needed to let you know how I felt about you.” He answered, his hands playing with yours as he spoke.

“So sweet to me. Bringing treats back from the food trailer.”

He ran up to you with a wide smile on his face, grabbing your hand to pull you along with him as he ran for the boat. You laughed at his actions but ran with him nonetheless.

When you guys arrived at the Pogue, he was quick to open up a cooler he had, bragging about all the snacks that he forced Kiara and Pope to help him make. You smiled at how proud he was, pulling him in for a kiss, “I love you so much.” You whispered against his lips.

“I love you more, baby.” He said, pulling away for a second to look at you as he spoke. He paused for a second, looking down as he took a shaky breath, “I think I want to marry you someday.”

You smiled brightly at his words, he wasn’t always the most expressive with words but right now he was and you appreciated every single word that he was saying.

“I could leave you a key. Kicking back, feeling lazy. Tripping around the house.”

You and JJ were sitting at your kitchen table, listening to some quiet music as you talked about your favorite show, still trying to convince him to watch it.

“Oh, wait!” You exclaimed suddenly, “stay here.” You added, running up to your room to grab the gift that you had gotten for him.

It wasn’t until you reached the kitchen again that you started to get nervous, it was a big gift and you hoped that you weren’t going to overstep anything with the gift.

“Close your eyes,” you mumbled, watching as he closed his eyes and held his hands out. You smiled as you placed the small object in his hands, “open them.”

JJ opened his eyes and looked down, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion but a small smile was resting on his face. “A key?” He asked, not sure what it was for.

“In case you ever need somewhere to go, you’re already welcome here whenever but I wanted to remind you of that.” You answered softly, watching as JJ’s smile grew bigger from your words.

“You’re amazing,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“Been away too long. Spinning me all your love. Though I’m lost and gone, nowadays you’re still my partner in crime, my cherry lime.”

“They’re gone,” he sobbed into your arms, trying to pull you even closer to him, despite how close the two of you already were, “I want them back.”

You sniffled, knowing what he was talking about. Sarah and John B had disappeared over a week ago and JJ seemed to be taking it the hardest. John B was his best friend since the third grade and he didn’t know what to do without him.

“Promise me,” he said, a sob interrupting his words, “promise me you won’t leave me too.” He begged, pulling away to look at you.

His eyes were bright and watery as he stared at you, silently begging you to give him the confirmation he needed. You hated when he cried but whenever he did, his eyes would turn the brightest blue and you would fall even more in love with them.

“I’m never leaving you, I love you, JJ.” You whispered, pulling him back into your arms as he continued to cry.

“Shaking out the stereo with songs we used to know and sing. Taking us back for a change.”

Two months after the “death” of John B and Sarah Cameron and things were slowly starting to become okay again. Obviously it wasn’t the same without them, but JJ was starting to become happier, he was even starting to sing along to the songs on the radio again.

You two were currently working on fixing the twinkie, repairing the windshield, wheels, and more. It was one of the few things you had left of John B and the two of you were dead set on cleaning it up to use it again.

One of JJ’s favorite songs came on through the speaker you two had set up and he moved away from the twinkie, pulling you up with him, “dance with me!” He suggested, pulling you closer to his chest.

You laughed but complied, putting your head on his shoulder and swaying with him to the music, just happy that your boyfriend was smiling again. It may have taken a while but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I love you.” You mumbled, turning and kissing him on the cheek, watching as a blush spread over his cheeks at your words. Despite how many times you told him those words, they always seemed to affect him.

“I love you too.” He answered, “thank you for always sticking with me, through everything.”

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj imagine #obx jj #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic

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albrich · 3 years

Text

for @fluminas, happy birthday barbara pegg !!

A BIRTHDAY ANTHOLOGY.

EIGHT AND THREE

he’s not sure what he’s doing here ——— crepus had said something about a BIRTHDAY PARTY down the way and he didn’t have to come along if he truly didn’t wish to, but diluc was going and had seemed so excited and diluc is so bright he’s dazzling and there’s something still yet TERRIFYING about being in the manor all on his lonesome / even if there were servants abounds. it’s only been THREE MOON CYCLES since kaeya had arrived on the surface and still the sky terrifies him, its vastness and eternal stretching / he doesn’t fear falling into it any longer but it still causes his heart to seize and his stomach to lurch and, oh, how the light burns.

so he shrugged and jerked his head and didn’t quite meet crepus’s eyes when he said yes, he’ll come along to this birthday party.

AND HE’S NOT SURE WHAT HE’S DOING HERE ——— other than sitting on an overstuffed armchair shoved into the corner of a room, quiet and solitary and watching as diluc and jean gunnhildr ( kaeya had met her several times before when she appeared at the manor with a tiny girl in tow, nearly a month ago / and kaeya had glanced at them before disappearing up stairs / disappearing altogether ) talk with each other animatedly. there are other children around, all of whom stare at him curiously : that MYSTERIOUS BOY, sometimes rude and other times sunny as anything who was taken into the RANGVINDR HOUSEHOLD nearly three months ago ——— kaeya knows that he is a topic of rampant discussion. that charming, recalcitrant boy, what was his name again? kaeya, crepus said.

he sees glimpses of the birthday girl every now and then, toddling to and fro, so very little, flaxen hair pulled into short little pig tails. SHE SEEMS HAPPY, overjoyed, running to her older sister and away again, sunny and glimmering in the light / her own light.

kaeya smiles benignly when a child walks up to him / wishes he brought a book / says something that causes a frown to pull at this girl’s face before she turns and runs off and : HERE COMES THE BIRTHDAY GIRL. tiny little barbara, her wide eyes fixated on him as she runs across the room to him, nearly tripping on the edge of the carpet ( kaeya’s eyebrows lift ever so slightly ) before running up to the armchair, practically crashing into it.

❝ kaeya !! ❞ she shouts, though with her toddler voice it sounds more like kya than kaeya, though who’s he to tell her how to pronounce a FAKE NAME, anyways? they like this pronunciation, he decides ——— it’s less ( ... ) grating. distant enough.

❝ babette, ❞ he says the affectionate nickname automatically and watches as her grin widens further and / he shifts forward in the arm chair, peering down at her and her tiny, round face / and he reaches out and pokes her cheek, smiling as she LAUGHS, leans away from his cold touch and back again. ❝ are you having fun on your birthday? ❞

❝ yeah, ❞ her voice is exuberant and her arms lift as she bounces on the balls of her feet, hands flapping ever so slightly and it takes kaeya a moment to realize she’s asking to be lifted onto the chair. ❝ kaeya, ❞ she repeats his name with a reproachful tone, which is hilarious coming from a three year old.

❝ you have guests to entertain, birthday girl, ❞ and yet, despite his words he’s reaching down and grabbing her from her underarms, laughing quietly as she squirms at his touch, ticklish, and pulls her up onto the seat and, coincidentally, half on top of him considering that this armchair is wide, but not quite that wide.

❝ but kaeya, ❞ she says, as if that explains everything.

he laughs, rather helplessly, ❝ yes : but kaeya. ❞

TWELVE AND SEVEN

❝ guess who, ❞ they practically sing as they cover barbara’s eyes with one hand, having snuck up behind her as she considers which dress to wear for the party being put together downstairs.

barbara almost shrieks with joy ——— though calling it a shriek may be too harsh, it was far more of a shout than a shriek ——— as she whirls around and exclaims, ❝ kaeya !! ❞ before she throws her arms around kaeya’s neck. it’s been a few weeks since they had last seen each other, since crepus had taken kaeya and diluc ( his sons his sons you are his son and why do you feel such anger about that? isn’t it nice to be loved / can’t you feel the love pouring off of barbara? ) on a trip which began in inazuma and ended at the beach, just in time for barbara’s birthday, naturally, and kaeya could appreciate that such a long period without seeing each other is fairly unusual, all thigns considered.

they hug her in return, wrap his arms around her waist and lift her off the ground easily, her form so very slight in his arms / and they spin around for good measure. ❝ that’s considered cheating, barbara, you didn’t guess before you turned around, ❞ he can’t help but tease her as he sets her on the ground again, not even bothering to fix her with a stern look to truly drive the point home.

barbara sticks her tongue out for a moment, for the moment simply a child for now they are both JUST CHILDREN, ❝ like i couldn’t tell it was you anyways. ❞

❝ that’s what they all say, ❞ he takes a moment to look at her proper and true and gauge if the weeks that they’ve been apart have been good enough in the grand scheme of things. less screaming less fighting less fear ——— jean had said it had been FINE when they had passed her earlier, and barbara looks well enough, not giving anything away. she’s smiling at him genuinely and there is no HAUNTED LOOK in her eyes / but he must check, you understand.

this secret he carries to the grave.

❝ you should wear that dress, ❞ he says after a moment of simply taking her in, pointing over her shoulder at the soft blue dress with pretty white lace sleeves perfectly suited for summer / and when she turns he reaches into his pocket, grabbing the small box that they had stashed there.

❝ i wasn’t sure if i should wear that one or, ❞ she points to a yellow dress with little daisies embroidered at the hem, ❝ this one. ❞

❝ the blue one, ❞ kaeya says with no small amount of confidence as he opens the box and takes out the clip that he had put in there for safe keeping. ❝ it goes better with your present. ❞

barbara GASPS as she turns again and stares up into his eye / before dropping her gaze to the clip lying on the palm of his hand that had three pearls glued clumsily to the surface ( diluc had complained that they were RUINING THEM and wouldn’t it be better to just give her the pearls and have someone do something PROFESSIONAL and kaeya had argued that gifts should be from the heart and they had fought about it for days, riling each other up for the fun of it as crepus sighed and laughed. ) ❝ oh it’s so pretty kaeya, ❞ barbara sounds and looks awed at the sight of it, as her hands reach for the clip in his palm and he grins widely.

❝ crepus has another present for you, but i looked for these pearls for ages, ❞ they tap the bottom of her chin so she’ll look at him once more / and he slides the clip into her bangs in a smooth motion, not even poking her once. ❝ and diluc helped, i suppose. ❞

barbara laughs and hugs him again, arms going around their waist. ❝ thank you, kaeya... i’ll thank diluc later. ❞

❝ of course. happy birthday, barbara. ❞

FIFTEEN AND TEN

it takes no effort whatsoever to convince crepus to take barbara to the ocean for her birthday ——— it’s nearly time for their annual trip, after all, and things have been ( ... ) they have been. jean isn’t present ( can’t be can’t be they can’t see each other anymore and how much that had broken barbara’s heart, indeed ) but kaeya and diluc and crepus and adelinde are and barbara seems to blossom beneath the sunlight, making an immediate beeline for the ocean once they unpack.

kaeya sprints after her, laughing as they splash into the ocean and kick water at each other and they follow her further and further / diluc is behind but he won’t be for long, simply speaking to their his father for the moment, while slathering sun potion onto his skin, given how easily diluc burns. ( kaeya hadn’t stopped teasing him about his sunburn the previous year until it was nearly AUTUMN, no matter how many times diluc shoved him into bushes or huffed or pointed out that kaeya had burned a bit, too. )

the two of them splash further out into the ocean, until the water is up to barbara’s waist and kaeya’s hip and when barbara dives beneath the water / she’s always loved it always taken to it she’s like a fish and doesn’t even complain when the water goes cold in the immediate area around kaeya / they lower themselves, floating on their back and staring up and up and up at the vast, blue sky. barbara starts to float alongside him mere moments later, and they can hear diluc starting to approach the waterline, speaking loudly over his shoulder.

❝ kaeya? ❞

❝ barbara? ❞

❝ ... thank you. ❞

❝ well, of course. happy birthday. ❞

EIGHTEEN AND THIRTEEN

KAEYA STILL SMELLS LIKE BURNT SKIN and it covered in more bandages than they are clothing and when barbara lets herself into his apartment he’s managed to acquire a small cake and the requisite tea leaves, though they’re currently incapable of making tea themselves and they couldn’t bribe or coerce QUITE enough people to manage getting a present, decorations, put up the decorations, a cake, tea leaves, and make tea ——— they’re somewhat bed ridden and going in and out of a fever at the moment and trying to process the addition to their nightmares of THEIR BROTHER standing over him hands aflame, can you truly blame him?

still : barbara’s eyes go glossy and bright when she sees the small array they’ve managed to scrabble together for her. ❝ kaeya... ❞

❝ happy birthday, barbara, ❞ they nod to the present on the table, a prettily wrapped book on herbs and poultices as well as a few pretty flowers tucked into the ribbon.

SHE SNIFFS WETLY as she crosses to the couch that he had made himself ( mostly ) comfortable on some time ago and perches herself beside him, not daring to touch him for fear of causing pain or moving bandages or causing a wound to weep or anything else unpleasant. she doesn’t bother picking up the gift or looking at the cake or taking in the fact that she’s the one who needs to brew tea right at this moment, instead sitting GINGERLY / and kaeya turns his palm on the couch so that it’s facing up and she can slip her hand into it, entirely unphased by how cold to the touch they are.

they sit, together and / she doesn’t ask about the vision that she had caught a glimpse of as she tried to hold her brother him together / and he holds her hand loosely and / notices that she’s wearing that silly pearl clip they had given her so long ago and / perhaps this is enough of a gift, after all. from one forgotten kid to another.

happy birthday, indeed.

TWENTY—THREE AND EIGHTEEN

this? this is yet to come.

( they awake on the morning of the fifth of july after two hours of sleep and read a few chapters of the book that he’s been making his way through before climbing out of bed and NOT QUITE LOOKING at his shirtless reflection in the mirror / fingers skimming over burn scars / as he gets dressed and drinks his coffee and sits at the sill of his fifth floor apartment, watching as mondstadt awakens below. he smiles, ever so slightly, upon remembering how members of barbara’s fanclub had moaned and groaned and yelled heartily at him for their assignments on today, the day of her birth. KAEYA LINGERS, watching as windows open and people start to fill the streets, before turning from their window and picking up two wrapped presents : one, a box containing a neat and sharp little knife more than adequate for gutting someone, and two, a wrapped book on travel through inazuma.

coming of age gifts must always be practical, after all. )

#fluminas #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char )#good lord #do u think i lost my mind a bit? yeah...#but it's what babs deserves in My opinion so it was worth it #i should probably put this under a readmore... it's 2k+? or #smth like that idek at this point but take this prelude to her #bday aka The Day of celebration lmao

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Link

It’s here! The ultimate crossover poly ship we’ve all been waiting for!

But wait, there is more! This is a buy one get two deal, so there is a bonus crossover poly ship added there for free!

Also if you’d like your fic ideas to be written by me or just want to help me keep the lights on, consider donating to my ko-fi (rules over here)

alright with that out of the way. It’s time to enjoy some gay shit

“Sato, tell me again why we’re doing this,” Catra asked with a loud groan, shielding her face as best as she could.

It was a beautiful and sunny summer day at the park, and that meant Catra and Asami were suffering like the sad goths they were as they were dragged along by the ever cheerful Korra and Adora.

“Because we love them dearly,” Asami huffed, exhausted from the heat, “and we can’t just keep them inside all summer.”

“Ugh, are we going on a picnic with our girlfriends here, or walking our dogs?” Catra complained.

As if on cue Adora and Korra turned to look at them, energetically waving at them as they finally found a nice place to set up. Their smiles were so bright that Catra was happy she had put on sunscreen earlier.

“Both,” Asami said, adjusting her sunglasses.

Slowly they walked up to the over excited duo. Thankfully the two of them managed to find a nice patch of shade they could set up under, and not have to melt under the sun like a couple of angsty popsicles.

“Blanket?” Adora asked, promptly taking the leading and organizing position she was born for.

“Check!” Catra replied, getting a cheap picnic blanket from her bag.

“Water?”

“Check,” Korra answered, taking several bottles of water from her backpack.

“Sandwiches?”

“Check,” Asami said, before adding, “I made them.”

“And sodas?”

Korra shoved her arm back into her backpack and began yanking all the soda cans out with far too much enthusiasm. The three of them stopped and glared, getting her to stop before she could slam the cans down...again. As hilarious as it would have been to watch Korra accidentally spray herself again, they actually wanted to drink their sodas this time.

Adora gave them all a satisfied nod, before proudly declaring, “and with that, our picnic date is ready to start!”

“Wow, so romantic, Adora,” Catra rolled her eyes, “nothing makes a girl feel more special than a bunch of checklists.”

“Well I appreciate it when a girl comes prepared,” Asami countered, giving Adora a kiss on the cheek for support.

“Of course you do, Sato,” Catra shook her head and rolled her eyes.

The two of them stuck their tongues at each other for a bit, in what their girlfriends could only assume was their more...unique approach to flirting.

Deciding now was a good time to change the topic away from those two dorks, Korra approached the trio with her arms behind her back.

“Hey, Adora,” she called, earning a glare from Catra, who had nearly patented that line, “you sure we aren’t missing something?”

Adora checked her list a second time, even rereading the things she brought there herself, “I don’t think so?”

Korra smiled as she brought her hands forward, revealing the football she had been hiding behind her. Adora’s hands flew to her mouth to contain a gasp, and looked up at Korra as if she had just whipped out a wedding ring. Catra and Asami were extremely unimpressed.

They barely got to finish setting up before those two darted off to go run around and throw that ball like the pair of adorable goofballs they were.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us again, Applesauce,” Asami commented, sitting comfortably in the shade.

“Yup,” Catra nodded, sitting next to her. She allowed a long pause to pass by before adding, “wanna makeout?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Asami replied, scooting closer and hooking her arms around Catra’s neck.

Catra leaned in, lips slightly parting as they came closer to Asami’s… before being so rudely interrupted by Korra clearing her throat. The two edgy idiots looked up at her, seeing her and Adora standing over them with crossed arms.

“Don’t we do this every day at school?” Korra asked, brow raised in annoyance.

“Yeah,” Catra replied, refusing to move away from Asami, “your point?”

“This is a date,” Adora added, hitting them with her most powerful puppy dog eyes, “can’t you guys please play with us for a bit?”

Both of them groaned and looked at each other. Asami looked ready to give in at the slightest hint of that adorable face, but Catra had years of experience with saying no to it.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Catra answered.

“Oh well,” Adora sighed, “you asked for it.”

They were barely given a moment to process what that meant, before Korra and Adora hoisted them up, and tossed them over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes. Asami yelped loudly, but accepted her fate. Catra, on the other hand, kicked and screamed the entire way, nearly punching Adora in the face more than once.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” She shouted, “put me down, or I fucking swear!”

Adora simply laughed as she carried her girlfriend along to the nice open space where they were playing just a moment ago.

“Only if you promise to play with us,” she replied.

“Fine!” Catra yelled, “just put me down!”

Adora gently put her down and shot her a beaming smile. Oh she was lucky she was so cute, or Catra would have kicked her ass right now. Instead she just adjusted her clothes, fixed her hair so it would be the correct kind of messy, and huffed.

“So what exactly are you making us play?”

“We don’t need to play an actual game,” Korra answered, “we just wanted to have fun with you guys.”

Catra seemed unconvinced. They should have known she wouldn’t participate if she couldn’t make a competition out of it.

“Okay, how about this,” Adora offered, “we split into teams of two, and we try to just toss the ball between team members without letting the other two catch it. Whoever keeps the ball with their team the longest wins. Sounds fun for you?”

Catra pondered for a moment, seeming satisfied with these terms of engagement she declared, “I’m on team Korra!”

“What!?” Adora exclaimed, her expression one of utter and absolute betrayal, “why?”

“She’s the tallest one here,” Catra explained, casually, “it’s an obvious tactical advantage.”

“By an inch!” Adora countered, still stunned that Catra would ever abandon her like this...again.

“Don’t worry, Adora,” Asami said, putting a hand on her shoulder for reassurance, “we’ll make sure she regrets that”.

Oh no. Korra and Adora looked at each other as they both realized that they may have made a terrible mistake.

What followed was easily the most intense game of keepaway any of them had ever played. Though intensity was just about the only thing Catra and Asami were providing for this match up. Not that the other two minded much - they were genuinely just happy to play with their girlfriends for once - but they were starting to worry one of them was gonna end up doing something stupid.

It wasn’t long until they were proven right. Catra caught a ball meant for Adora and instead of throwing it to Korra, she decided the best strategy was to just run for it. The three of them watched stunned as she bolted off into the park like she was being chased by the hounds of hell. Asami gave chase soon after, so the assumption wasn’t all wrong.

Korra and Adora just stood there, watching as their girlfriends ran after each other, shouting insults at one another.

“We should have known that was gonna happen,” Adora commented with a defeated sigh.

“Well, at least we got them to exercise for once,” Korra offered.

“Yeah,” she nodded, watching those two for just a bit longer before adding, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” Korra shrugged, “not like they’re gonna be back any time soon.”

~~~

Korra leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the cool breeze that blew past their little spot. She took a nice, long sip of her soda and let out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, this picnic was just what she needed.

“Water,” groaned the mostly dead girl to her side.

Catra laid there, sprawled face down on the picnic blanket, barely able to do anything but groan, and complain after completely draining herself like that. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, playing with her girlfriend’s hair before handing her the much needed cold water.

The poor girl groaned something sounding almost similar to a thank you, before chugging the whole bottle down in record time and then flopping back to her sprawled position.

“So what did we learn?” Adora asked, with that particular tone she had at times that made Korra wonder if she ever considered becoming a teacher one day.

“Never to exercise again,” Catra answered.

“No,” she corrected, “don’t over exert yourself

“Also don’t wear all black to a picnic,” Korra added, “I’m surprised you two didn’t cook alive.”

“We did,” Asami replied.

“And that’s why we brought all this water,” Adora said proudly as she handed Asami her own water bottle.

“What would we do without you?” Asami praised.

“We wouldn’t have gone out in this fucking heat that’s for sure,” Catra complained.

“Can you do something other than complain?” Asami asked.

“No,” she replied without a second of hesitation, “also scoot over, you’re hogging all the shade.”

“Sorry, Applesauce, but I won. I hold all the shade privileges now,” she proudly declared, earning a weak little kick from a completely burned out Catra.

“Don’t be like that,” Adora sighed and crawled closer to her girlfriend. She ran her fingers through Catra’s hair, scratching her in this very particular way that only Adora knew how to do, and soon it was like angry asshole Catra had never been there, now replaced with just soft asshole Catra.

“Asami is right,” Catra said, sounding so content with everything, “what would we do without you?”

“Oh, are we showing her some love now?” Korra asked, scooting closer and hugging Adora from behind, “mind if I join in? ‘Cause I got plenty.”

Following her example the other two joined in the PDA, Asami leaning against her shoulder, and Catra resting her head on her lap. Adora looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Y-You guys,” she whined, trying not to crumble into an emotional mess, “I love you so much.”

“We love you too,” Korra answered, kissing her cheek. The others hummed in agreement.

“This means a lot,” she replied, sniffing loudly, “but you’re all really sweaty and it’s way, way too hot for PDA right now.”

Korra and Asami muttered some agreements and promptly moved away, fanning themselves a little to help cool down. Catra, on the other hand, refused to move and in fact even pressed a little closer.

“Are you gonna move?” Adora asked, amused.

“Nope,” Catra replied, “you’re too comfortable.”

Not wanting to disturb this rare moment of peace, Adora accepted her fate, and returned to her duty as Catra’s primary source of scratches.

After that initial burst of energy the rest of the day was surprisingly peaceful. Well, besides a small argument over who had the worst taste in music, and who should or shouldn’t be allowed to have the aux cord. But other than that it was a calm and peaceful day.

Slowly but surely, the shade grew a bit longer and the day grew a bit colder. Night was about to fall, and it was time to move to part two of their wonderful summer date. Milkshakes at the diner. Korra’s kinda sorta aunt Kya ran the place with her wives, so she let Korra and all her friends - and girlfriends - hangout for as long as they wanted.

The four of them greeted Kya before taking their usual table. Catra did not waste a single second trying to sit like a normal person, she promptly tossed her legs over Adora’s lap, and leaned back against the wall, phone already in hand.

“Hey, look at that,” she commented, “Blight dyed her hair purple.”

“Maybe she decided green hair was too straight for her,” Korra joked, “I’m surprised she didn’t go with blue.”

“Well, I think purple works really well for her,” Adora commented, “I mean, all her clothes are already black and purple.”

“All of your clothes are white or red, but I don’t see you dying your hair,” Catra commented, archiving the mental image of redhead Adora for later.

Adora opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Asami, “babe, your hair is wonderful, don’t let her bully you into doing something stupid with it.”

Catra looked ready to throw her phone, “hey, I aint bullying anyone!”

“I see you kids are as cheerful as ever,” Castaspella greeted as she reached them, putting their food on the table, “here are your milkshakes, and the fries are on the house.”

“We really don’t mind paying for it, aunt Casta,” Korra assured her.

“Nonsense, let us spoil you kids a little,” Casta replied, with a wave, “besides, consider this a little thank you for helping our niece get a date.”

“Wait!” Catra interrupted, very confused for a moment, “Amity is your niece?”

“No, silly, I meant Luz,” she chuckled, “she was so in love with that Blight girl that she wouldn’t stop talking to Lilith about how amazing she was. It was adorable.”

Adora blinked a couple of times as she realized that meant that Luz and Glimmer were technically related now. She then vowed to herself to neverr let them find out, their power and chaos combined would be far too much for the world.

“Uh, glad we could help I guess?” Korra offered with a weak smile, completely unaware of the small crisis going on in Adora’s head. Aunt Casta laughed a little at the awkwardness, before leaving to tend to the other tables.

And now that they were left alone it was time to dig in. As usual Adora practically inhaled her food, and had to be stopped by Catra before she choked on something. Also as usual they were all dipping their fries in their milkshakes, with the sole exception of Asami.

“I still don’t know how you guys manage to eat that,” she commented.

Adora loudly swallowed a whole portion of milkshake covered fries in one go - earning an exasperated sigh from Catra - and answered, “it’s good!”

“Is it though?”

“What? Is this unsuitable for your refined palate, princess?” Catra teased.

“It’s…weird,” she replied.

“Hey, I’m weird, and you still love me,” Korra commented, leaning a little closer to her.

“You know what I meant,” she complained even as she leaned back against Korra.

“Don’t you wanna at least give it a try?” Korra asked, offering one of her own fries, “for me?”

That was a cheap trick, and Korra knew it, but it worked. Asami leaned in and took a bite of those fries without even taking them from Korra’s hand. There was a certain romance to eating food from your lover’s hands, or at least there would be if her two other lovers weren’t being little shits and snickering the entire time.

Asami glared at the two of them as she slowly ate her fries, trying to properly savor them, to fully grasp their flavor profile. Adora did a little heart with her hands and blew her a kiss in an attempt to mitigate her annoyance.

It worked better than she would like to admit.

“So how is it?” Korra asked.

Asami swallowed and paused, seeming to ponder her answer for a moment. “It was...better than I expected.”

Korra laughed and shot her a beaming smile, “told you it was good.”

Asami couldn’t respond for a moment as she was too busy being reminded that Korra was a blessing to humanity, and that she was so lucky to be able to call her her girlfriend.

“Well uh...thanks for making me try it,” she mumbled. Trying her best to save herself before Catra and Adora - especially Catra - could make any comments on her loss of composure, Asami dipped one of her fries on her milkshake and offered it to Korra, “here.”

Korra eagerly and happily took a bite off of it.

“That’s so fucking gay,” Catra commented.

“Catra, we’ve all been dating for months,” Adora countered.

“Yeah, your point?” She asked, sticking her tongue out at her.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Asami replied.

“Complain all you want, princess. You all love me, and you know it.”

The table collectively groaned - Asami burying her head in her hand - all fully aware that she was completely right.

~~~

Eventually the conversation died down. It was late and they had spent all day with each other, but they all knew they’d have to part ways eventually. They all knew they’d probably see each other tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every day for as long as they could. But that didn’t mean they enjoyed bringing the date to a close.

Adora especially seemed extra clingy today as she gave all three of her girlfriends tight, rib-crushing hugs. The others were far more subtle about it, but it was still there. In the lingering touches after a hug, the yearning looks after a kiss. It was that unspoken want to stay just a little longer, to never let go.

Maybe one day they’d all walk together to their own home, and cuddle together in their own bed, but today they all had different places to return to and they had to go their separate ways. In the end only Korra was left standing in front of the diner.

“Hey, kid,” aunt Kya called, “you want a ride back to your parent’s place?”

“You really don’t--”

“What did Casta say about letting us spoil you?” She interrupted. There was no arguing with her.

Next thing Korra knew she was in Kya’s car, watching the lamp posts pass by them as she took her home.

“You should bring them over more often,” Kya commented.

“I’ll try,” Korra replied.

“I’m serious,” she insisted, “you know we all love when you bring the girls over. It reminds us of the good old days.”

“The good old days?” Korra asked, somewhat amused.

“Back when we were your age,” she explained, “back then it wasn’t exactly okay for a girl to want to be with another girl, let alone two. But even then we knew we wanted nothing more than to be together, just the three of us, for as long as life would let us.”

Korra thought back to that idea of sharing a place with them, living every day with them, making days like this the norm. It all sounded so wonderful.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I think I get it.”

#spop #shera #avatar the legend of korra #atlok #the owl house #toh #catra #adora #catradora #korra #asami sato #korrasami #adora x asami x catra x korra #crossover #castaspella x lilith x kya #modern au #high school au #fanfic

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athingofvikings · 3 years

Text

I don’t usually do “call-out” posts, but this case is particularly egregious. It’s not strictly plagiarism, but it definitely qualifies as some form of creative dishonesty, and I need to vent on it.

So last night (Nov 15, 2020), I saw that my “Related Works” tab on AO3 had iterated up a digit and went to investigate.

What I saw made my blood boil.

“An Englishman Among Vikings” by Heinkelboy05

Checking the comments, I found that, unsurprisingly, the serial liar had lied again, saying, flat out, that he hadn’t worked with me on his story.

So.

Let me get the record straight.

Here is his first message on ffnet, note the date:

May 27, 2018

Hello there. This is Heinkelboy05. I'm a 21 year old college student studying to become a history teacher. I'm a big history buff and I try to incorporate it into my stories. My current story is one based on the game Valkyria Chronicles set in an alternate version of 1935. It's mostly historical though with some twists into it. Anyway, before I bore you with anymore details, just bought I'd let you know that I've been reading your story and it inspired me to try and do something similar here for HTTYD. I'm still working on it and trying to get some historical background and such. It's going to have historical information but also some small twists here and there as well. Still working a bit on finding historical information on some things. This one is going to be set earlier in the Viking Era. Just thought I'd let you know.

I responded positively, because hey, why wouldn’t I?

And thus, with the hook set, he reeled me in, talking exclusively about his own work. We shifted to talking on Discord quickly, but it was just draining to talk to him; he only ever wanted to discuss his own ideas, and he wanted real-time discussions; he would ping me with “free to talk?” and if I wasn’t there right then, he would go off-line. Once I didn’t get there in time for a week, and I got a passive-aggressive comment that basically was designed to guilt me.

But, hey, I’m a nice guy, right? So I invited him to the ATOV Discord server in October 2018, after we’d been working on his story for nearly five months.

And once he was invited in, he settled in to feed like a vampire at a boarding school dormitory.

In the following 18 months, he almost never engaged with other people on the server outside of his writing, just pushing his own drafts regularly, and whining that he wasn’t getting any feedback or interest. Once, he even pinged @everyone because he wanted attention and feedback on the draft he’d just posted.

And then he made a mistake. The specific details amount to this: He had claimed back in his first message above that “I’ve been reading your story”, and I had taken it on good faith that he was a reader of mine.

He wasn’t.

Because in April, he asked in the history discussion channel if anyone had heard of a historical group who show up in a major fashion in my story.

@kalessinsdaughter confronted him later and got him to admit that he’d read “less than half” (i.e. almost certainly a lot less) of my work.

He gave me an “I’m sorry I got caught” nonpology, clearly hoping for a return to the status quo.

He didn’t get it.

The long and the short of what followed is that we didn’t kick him from the server immediately; meanwhile, he tried a half-assed charm offensive to try to bribe his way back into my good graces. I saw right through it, and he ended up getting so offensive and hypocritical that at the end of June, after a breathtakingly disgusting display of White Privilege, I told him that he could either leave or wait for me to find an excuse within the server rules to ban him.

He left.

Last night, I saw that my “Related Works” tab on AO3 had iterated, and went to check it out.

After two years of working on it, he had finally started posting the fic that he had badgered me and others to help him with.

And in the comments was this.

https://archiveofourown.org/comments/363482519

PoeticalHufflepuff on Chapter 2 Sun 15 Nov 2020 11:10AM EST

Oh wow, this looks interesting! The premise reminds me a lot of A Thing Of Vikings, but set later in history. Did you work with him on it?

Heinkelboy05 on Chapter 2 Sun 15 Nov 2020 05:17PM CET

No, I did not. I do however read his story. I’m having this series tied to the events of the HTTYD series to differentiate it from ATOV.

“No, I did not work with him on it.”

Now, the premise of his story is very similar to mine, and that’s fine.

But, well. *motions to entire history*

I left a response earlier this morning. Since I’m not sure if he’ll delete my comment or not, I’ll copy the full text here.

athingofvikings on Chapter 2 Mon 16 Nov 2020 09:42AM CET

Well. Imagine my surprise when my "Related Works" value on my dashboard iterated up a digit last night and I found this waiting at the other end. And then, just to make it worse, I decided to check the comments out of some masochistic impulse and found you lying--as usual.

I suppose I should feel shocked, I really should, given just how brazen this lie is, but I'm not. Because it's always all about you... well, I'm not surprised that those months I spent "working with you" nearly every day two summers ago--remember those days? back before I invited you to the ATOV Discord server?--doesn't count as having "worked with you". Still. Just wow. It's amazing. I knew that you were a Grade-A self-centered asshole, but this really takes the cake. You lied to me, used me, and took advantage of my kindness for two years, and now you have the sheer unremitted gall to deny that I gave my time and effort trying to help you before I realized how much of an emotional vampire you are?

So, let me make this clear to anyone reading this, and I'll be posting this elsewhere as well: I do not accept this work as "inspired by" my own. It was made abundantly clear during Heinkel's time on the ATOV server that he hadn't actually read my work, and that persisted until he was caught in a direct lie on it. Before being caught, he spent nearly two years feeding on people's attention and not giving back to the community I had built; one of the other authors there described trying to help him as "exhausting". Prior to when he was invited to the server (by me in one of my biggest mistakes), he portrayed himself to me as being one of my readers who needed help with his own work. I gave that help freely--and it was exhausting, because he was this weird combination of "I want more clicks/attention", "I want historical accuracy like you do" and "I want these specific ahistorical elements because they're Cool" that just made dealing with him a chore.

I'm not going to call him a plagiarist, because that would require him to have read my work first, and he only did that past the first few chapters after he was caught in his lie. Yes, he took the general premise that I had come up with, but it's so mutilated by the inclusion of ahistorical elements that it's an 'in-name-only' Hollywood-style adaptation, akin to Artemis Fowl, and that's not plagiarism. Anything he might have taken from me directly was just from the first few chapters, because that's all he read before he was caught lying.

But while he's not a plagiarist, he IS a toxic, creatively dishonest, attention-starved, self-centered, exploitive and all-around inconsiderate jackass who used me, used my community, and lied to me all the while, all the while pretending that he was morally upstanding (remember that time you AllLivesMattered my explanation on antisemitism, Heinkel? I remember. I was explaining why my people are so hated and you had to butt in with a "Well, I'm so morally upstanding and good!" comment; pity that you don't actually practice what you said there). When he was caught in his lie by his own clumsiness--he asked if "anyone heard of the Jomsvikings" after they'd been a part of ATOV for years--and after having presented himself as a reader of ATOV for years, he desperately hoped that he wouldn't be called to account. And when he was called on it, he admitted to my friend that he had read "less than half" of my story and gave me an "I'm sorry I got caught" nonpology. I cannot and WILL NOT forgive him for all of that. This lie that he never worked with me on this story is just par for the course with him.

So go ahead and write your fic, Heinkel. It's clear that I can't stop you, and neither can your sense of shame or your sense of honesty, while your sense of integrity has been demonstrably MIA for a while now. But as I told you before I threw you out of the server, you're not getting anything more from me. Not attention, not acceptance, not friendship, not readers. You lied to me for two years, and this is just more of the same self-centered falsehoods. First you kept whining at me to pay attention to you, and passive-aggressively sniping at me when I didn't hop to it, did the same on the server because you were so desperate for attention of any kind--I haven't forgotten that you pinged @everyone because you wanted feedback without having to work at it by giving back to the community--and now you're saying that all of hours I spent helping you in good faith didn't exist, all of the time you spent getting advice and help from people on my server didn't exist.

And now you have the gall to say that you didn't work on it with me.

I only wish that I was surprised.

~~~

So that’s the situation.

Don’t go harassing the guy. Don’t report him to AO3--while skeezy, he hasn’t violated the TOS as far as I can tell.

But I had to get that off my chest.

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Life Changes Part 11 || Paul Bissonnette

Summary: It’s crazy how quickly your life can change...one minute you’re a struggling personal injury lawyer and the next you’re working for one of the hottest sports podcasts to supplement your income. A new job and the end of a long-term relationship was just the beginning for Leigh Thompson when it comes to life changes. Thankfully she has the one and only Paul Bissonnette at her side to help her handle them all.

Author's Note: Sappiness, sappiness, and more sappiness. I’m not sure what else you expected from a 31-week pregnant woman and a man who is secretly head over heels.

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2,900 (Series Total: 30,199)

~~~~

In my mind, there was absolutely zero reason why I needed to be dragged to the Jersey shore when it was 80 degrees outside and I was 31 weeks pregnant. The guys had all disagreed though and refused to let me skip out on the Pink Whitney Launch Party. Still, I was the last to arrive having chosen to drive while everyone else flew in earlier in the day. Dropping my weekend bag in the bedroom where Paul’s bag was, I plopped down onto the bed, already ready to sleep even though it wasn’t even dinner time yet. I was now at the stage of pregnancy where I was hardly sleeping because I couldn’t get comfortable and because my daughter was shifting onto my bladder every time I did manage to get comfortable. I was exhausted and cranky and everyone else would just have to deal with it because they weren’t the ones who had grown to the size of a whale.

Just as I had laid down though, my phone buzzed, Paul’s message reading that I should come up to the rooftop deck when I arrived because that was where all of them were. As much as I didn’t want to, I knew that I would never hear the end of it if I didn’t so after struggling to hoist myself off of the bed, I waddled up the stairs hoping to say hi and then return back inside where at least there was air conditioning. Upon reaching the roof, my eyes went wide from shock. Pink balloons were tied around the railings and a stack of presents was on the picnic table.

“What in the world?” I found myself mumbling as a cheer took over the group at the sight of me.

“It’s a baby shower.” Grinnell voiced. “Well sorta.” Immediately my eyes filled with tears at the fact that they had even thought to put anything together for me.

“Don’t cry.” Paul murmured, appearing beside me, his hand falling to my lower back as he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “It’s just a little something. No big deal.” He insisted. He guided me to sit in one of the more comfortable chairs, quickly handing me a bottle of water. As the stack of presents was moved to the ground beside me, I could feel Paul’s eyes on my body. The weight of his gaze made me uncomfortable because the last thing I needed was more people taking note of how large I was.

My focus was shifted when a present was set on top of my bump by Whit and everyone settled back into chairs to watch me open them. By the end of my work baby shower, it was clear that my little girl was going to be decked out in spittin chiclets merchandise. The guys had gifted me everything from onesies to hats to matching pink denim jackets for the pink whitney girls. Additionally, there was a stack of children’s books and a plush hockey stick along with a few other toys. It was all so incredibly sweet and I felt so loved, even if I was still annoyed at them as sweat gathered along every crease of my skin. Just when I thought we were done, Paul handed me one more present and I opened it to find the softest stuffed rabbit.

“A bunny for dust bunny.” I breathed, tearing up once more. “Thank you,” I added, directing the comment at all of the guys though my eyes stayed locked on Paul’s. Leaning down, he moved to pull me into a hug and as he stood back up his hand rested against the side of my bump for just a moment. Almost immediately though, a sharp kick resounded from inside me, directed right at Paul’s hand and his eyes went wide. His hand didn’t move right away and a second and then third kick quickly followed the first.

“That’s…” Paul said, his voice suddenly tight.

“Okay, little one that’s enough,” I replied, my hand falling to my stomach right beside Paul’s. “I know you just wanted to say hi but that’s mama you’re beating up in there.” Though Paul pulled his hand back, a look of shock remained on his face.

“Is that the first time you’ve felt a baby kick?” I asked him, reaching my hand out for him to pull me to my feet because I had been sitting too long and needed to stretch. He nodded, still at a loss for words, and I smiled drawing his hand back to my stomach to see if it would make dust bunny kick again. It was clear she sensed the new touch because she once again responded immediately, her tiny feet shifting inside of me.

“Fuck.” Paul cursed, his eyes wet by the time he finally pulled his hand away. Seeing his reaction to her movements was a moment I doubted I’d forget any time soon but those emotions were quickly quashed by the feeling of the sun beating down on me.

“Alright...it’s time for me to go back inside. It’s too darn hot out here.” I explained. “And I don’t want to hear a word about it. When you guys are heavily pregnant during the summer, then you can throw around chirps.

______

Propped up in bed later that night, I watched as Paul lay with his head on my thigh, talking to and pressing the occasional kiss to my bump. It was so obvious that he was going to be completely wrapped around her finger once she was born if he wasn’t already and for the first time in weeks I felt an unknown tension slip out of my body.

“You’re incredible you know…” Paul whispered, lifting his head just a bit to look up at me. When my eyebrow quirked in response, Paul leaned up a little more. “I mean you’re growing another person inside of you right now. You’re providing her protection and food and oxygen and soon she’ll become her own little entity. It’s incredible.”

“Women do this all of the time,” I replied, sure it was cool and pretty incredible but it was how nature worked so it wasn’t like I was doing anything that was any more special than any other mother.

“That may be true but it’s still incredible.” Paul insisted. “Only a bit longer until she’s here.” He mused, his fingers tracing over the area where my little girl had just kicked, having watched the way my belly flexed because of her tiny feet.

“Don’t remind me.” I sighed, biting gently at my lower lip.

“What’s wrong Leigh? I thought you’d be so ready for her to be here?” He asked, his hand sliding to lace his fingers with mine.

“I am ready for her to be here.” I insisted. “I’m just not ready for the whole labor thing.”

Paul’s face went pensive, his fingers just tracing patterns against my own.

“I mean you’re going to have your mom there right?” He questioned causing me to let out an even bigger sigh.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “My mother is the queen of all worriers and I don’t know if having her there would help or just cause me more stress.” This wasn’t the first time I’d thought about this and time and time again I’d come to the same conclusion. “I guess I’m just going to be on my own.” Paul was silent for a minute, multiple emotions shifting across his face.

“Is there someone you’d want to have there?” He eventually inquired, his voice barely audible. Hints of a frown appeared on my face as what seemed impossible crossed my mind once more. It wasn’t something I’d ever ask, not after everything. “Leigh…” Paul trailed off. “Do you want me there when she’s born?” Weakly I nodded and Paul immediately sat up, pulling me against his chest as best he could.

“You make me feel calm,” I mumbled into his shoulder. “You make me feel like I can do anything.” My voice dropped significantly as I started crying into his shoulder, all of the overwhelming thoughts bubbling over the edge. “I can’t imagine doing it without you.” With his lips pressed against my temple and his hand rubbing up and down my back, eventually, I regained control of my emotions.

“I’ll make some calls in the morning okay.” He promised. “I’ll do everything in my power to be there.” With what felt like an elephant-sized weight lifted off of my shoulders I let Paul shift the two of us into our usual sleeping position, one of his knees pressed between mine as his hand rested against my stomach and his body spooned behind me providing a welcome support to my aching back.

______

When I woke, the sun was peeking through the bedroom curtains. Reaching for my phone I discovered that it was nearly 8am. Needing to pee, I slipped out from under Paul’s arm and moved to the bathroom. This was the first time in over a month I had slept through the night and it didn’t take a genius to figure out just why that was.

Slowly making my way downstairs, I found Whit sitting at the counter with a mug full of coffee in front of him.

“Want some breakfast?” I whispered planning on making up a few eggs for myself because I hadn’t had my multiple middle of the night snacks and I was starving. With the launch party scheduled from 12-4pm, I knew everyone would need to get moving sooner rather than later. A large breakfast for everyone was soon made up, and after eating, I made my way back upstairs to shower and get ready while the guys cleaned up the kitchen.

I’d slipped into my swimsuit before throwing on a maxi dress. Not long after my hair was straightened and I’d put on just some light makeup, certain that anything more would just melt off my face from the sun. However, there was still one task I needed to take care of and it happened to be the most difficult.

Twenty minutes later, I was precariously perched on the edge of the tub which contained an inch or so of water when Paul knocked on the door.

“The guys are ready to go.” He called out through the wood.

“I need a few more minutes.” I declared, my voice exasperated as I attempted to lean forward to drag the razor along the skin of my legs. After a moment the door gave way and Paul stepped into the small bathroom.

“What are you…?” He trailed off before quickly shaking his head.

“Don’t look at me like that okay,” I grumbled. “This is not easy with little miss in the way,” I complained. Another slow pass of the razor up my leg almost sent me tumbling into the tub.

“Give it here,” Paul demanded.

“I am quite capable.” I insisted, my stubbornness showing.

“Leigh just give me the damn razor before you hurt yourself,” Paul repeated, his large frame moving to sit on the lid of the toilet seat.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing.” I continued, struggling once more to reach my ankles. “I’d rather not have cuts everywhere.”

Paul ultimately won this battle, and soon I was sitting on the toilet seat while Paul balanced on the edge of the tub, his hands gently holding each of my legs in turn as he slowly and carefully pulled the razor blades along my skin. It was such an intimate action that I struggled not to shiver under his touch. When he was done, he dried my legs off before pulling me to my feet, and after a moment, my sandals were dropped in front of me so all I had to do was slide into them.

“Now are you ready?” He murmured softly, his gaze soft but teasing.

“I mean I guess so.” I sighed although today was even hotter than yesterday had been and I was not looking forward to melting under the sun. The guys complained about how long I had taken as I walked into the living room and after flipping them off I grabbed the beach bag I had packed before waddling my way out to the van New Amsterdam had sent.

____

The Jersey shore was pumping and alcohol was flowing by the time we finally arrived at the beach. Representatives from New Amsterdam met us in a staff tent and it was explained that the guys and drink would be introduced and then they would just have to mingle, chat and take pictures with fans who were trying the drink for the first time. While they did the official things, I sat in a shaded tent trying to keep my water intake up. Soon though, the guys returned and urged me to come out and socialize with people because apparently, people wanted to talk to me too. I wasn’t sure how much of that I was buying but complaining hadn’t seemed to be doing me much good so I went along with things, walking around the beach to talk to people.

Soon, the guys were pulled into a beach volleyball game. With Paul having tossed his shirt off into the sand at some point, I was met with an eyeful that sent my body temperature spiking even higher. Needing to cool down, I dumped my things somewhere safe and made my way down into the ocean, letting the cool water lap at my skin as it helped make the heat a little less unbearable.

The heat was back full force though as soon as I climbed out of the ocean and slipped back into my dress and shoes. Running back into Paul I was pulled into the conversation he was having with a group around him and soon I found myself leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped lightly around my waist. As the conversation continued, I closed my eyes and just tried to relax, feeling fatigued and overwhelmingly hot.

“Leigh?” Paul’s voice filtered through to my ears and I hummed in response. “I called your name multiple times and you didn’t respond...are you okay?” He questioned.

“Tired. Headache. Hot.” I mumbled and immediately Paul excused us from the group of fans surrounding us. I was led into a tent and Paul disappeared but when he returned I found myself being helped back into the same van as earlier. “Hmm?” I questioned, full thoughts not really forming in my brain right now.

“Taking you back to the house before you pass out from heat exhaustion,” Paul explained and it wasn’t much longer before he was leading me into the beach house, his hands providing additional balance support as I moved into our bedroom. Already the air conditioning felt wonderful and the feeling of softness along my entire body took the edge off of the achiness that lingered everywhere.

I must have fallen asleep because the sun was no longer pouring through the window when I next opened my eyes. A bottle of water and some strawberries were sitting on the bedside table. I was finishing off the bowl when Paul appeared in the doorway, concern etched into his expression.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

“Yeah. Thanks.” I replied, rubbing my hand gently over my bump and smiling when I felt my little girl shift in response.

“Why didn’t you speak up sooner?” He wondered as he moved to sit beside me.

“I told you guys for weeks that it wasn’t a good idea and no one listened to me,” I mumbled. Immediately concern shifted to guilt and Paul sighed, scraping his nails over the back of his neck.

“I should have listened.” He admitted. “I’m sorry. I let my desire to see you in person drown out your wants and needs.” Shrugging, I sent him a soft smile to let him know that all was forgiven. “So I have some good news for you.” He declared, shifting topics. “The coyotes agreed to give me two weeks off. So I was thinking I’d come out a week before your due date and stay the full two weeks so hopefully, I can help you out for at least a few days once she arrives.”

The knowledge that he was willing to fly across the country to be there to support me and this little girl through labor and the first little bit after her arrival meant the world and I couldn’t control the tears pouring down my cheeks. As quickly as they fell, Paul’s thumbs were wiping them away. “I take it that works for you…” He surmised. “At least I’m hoping these are happy tears. Sometimes I can’t tell anymore with the way you start crying at the drop of a hat.” He teased.

Though he teased about my emotions going haywire, he never complained and took whatever I threw at him, letting anything negative roll right off of his back. I owed him more thank yous than I could ever say and shifting my body, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly as my little girl squirmed inside of me.

Knowing that he would be by my side made the prospect of labor a little less scary and now I was even more ready to have my little girl in my arms.

#paul bissonnette #paul bissonnette imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes imagine #former player #former player imagine #014.1

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obliviouskind · 3 years

Text

Solstice

---

Off the beaten path upon Unova’s mainland, nestled within the forests on a privately owned property of which carried a name he now shared; Cyrus sat within an uncomfortable, yet comfortable, plastic chair. Lush green grass spread beneath his feet, unkempt where it seemingly was most needed not to be so – while beneath him, burrowed and cramped, his hound found refuge from the relentless summer’s heat… As well as the hands of curious, snobbish children – of which there were an abundance running about. Upon their knees sat bruises and stains, while within their light locks fashioned into pigtails and braids, flowers of different colors were woven together by that of iron wire and leaves.

His own head sat bare of any such decorations, though not from the lack of offers. The wife of his current seat mate, Eamon Nechayev, had been one out of many whom had brought more than their fair share of floral crowns. --Eamon was a man who married into the family, rather than having entered it by blood; and he took his wife’s last name in a manner that Cyrus himself, admittedly, saw as rather unbecoming. Just as Cyrus, however, his eyes were light in color. Gray boarding on blue, with a frame of charcoal of which matched the little hair he still carried upon his head.

”Have you taught that dog to behave around the children yet, Damian?”

… The partaking of nationwide holidays – or simple, personal celebrations such as birthdays, had been a phenomenon that Cyrus never truly had gotten to enjoy as a young boy. For the Akagi had been a family of simplicity and accomplishments, rather than that of mindless pleasures and joys. What should be celebrated were feats and triumphs – not divine fertility and other such ‘useless’ fallacies. That was, at least, the explanation his father had given to him when he had mustered up the courage to actually ask.

But, the Nechayev’s?

Though most of the family laid outside of Sinnoh’s vast boarders these days, the clan seemingly never lost contact with their roots. Thus; Midsummer was celebrated.

Every. Single. Year.

He and Nikita (his cousin in papers alone, as well as the designated ‘babysitter’ of himself for these past three years) had taken the earliest ship offered back towards Unova’s mainland for the sake of meeting with the aunt of Nikita’s own father – Alexandra Nechayev. Together, they had traversed the country roads within her modest car, and for over an hour in its short trunk, his hound had nestled in as best as he could’ve managed given the circumstances. --By all means, it wasn’t necessarily the longest of treks… But it was one everyone had to make. And once they arrived, Houndoom had made quick work of stretching his legs before activity was certain to be thoroughly limited.

(Mindlessly, his hands settled within the dog’s short fur between his knees.)

“Damian?”

His eyes cast towards the vast yard, of rolling hills merging into that of forgotten, disheveled fields – and the sea of towheaded family members unsurprisingly spread as far as the eye could see. In the wake of dinner not yet having been served (though dishes slowly but surely traveled out of the small farmhouse by that of feminine hands), many children had taken it upon themselves to play tag or fly kites; far too close to the telephone lines for comfort, but with seemingly little care for the harm that so easily could befall them with but one small mishap.

Closer to where he himself sat, the quiet chatter of women easily were overshadowed by the boisterous laughter of their hefty husbands, and inside himself he quickly realized that within his mindless actions; he was looking for something.

Or, rather, for someone.

Cynthia, it seemed, had yet to arrive at the scene of their family gathering; and he supposed it perhaps wasn’t so strange. If she had just arrived within the region, or had come at an earlier date; he didn’t know, nor did he particularly care to properly figure out.

But what it nonetheless meant was that her trek to the family farm would be one of considerably greater distance. --Childish it was of him, perhaps, but the longer until she showed; the better. For one thing was certain about that woman.

Once she found him in this sea of blondes… She would not let him go.

Something that did find him, however, were the narrowed gaze of Eamon.

“Damian, I said-“

“I’m sorry,” Cyrus interrupted – something clicking within his mind. Though lost in dreams, he had caught the voice of the other man. ‘Have you taught that dog to behave around the children yet, Damian?’ “I’m thinking, is all… He always does behave, but he is not a dog to play with. The children shouldn’t approach him as though he’s a young Lillipup.”

Eamon scoffed and leant his full weight back within his chair, which lacked guests beneath it. Behind him, however, stood a young girl clad in a checkerboard patterned summer dress. The only daughter of that particular branch of the family tree.

“I will take that as a no, then.”

Cyrus cast a glance towards the girl, one that was apologetic. “Precisely so.”

The disappointment upon her features was theatrically exaggerated – with her cheeks puffed up and her shoulders and back hunched; she quietly walked away from the scene in short, drawn out steps. The hurt, however, seemed to roll off her back as soon as the invite for play came in the form of her brothers – then, all seemed to be right in the world again.

He smoothed his hand over short, black fur one last time.

“Y’know,” Eamon broke the silence. Within his hand sat a bottle of beer, and Cyrus had to wonder if it was the first or second of the day that still sat fairly young. “You always look deeply unhappy being here. Like you would rather sit at home during a fun celebration like this. Are you that terrified of us?”

“No such thing,” Cyrus admitted; and it was not a lie in most regards. As far as holidays went, midsummer was one of the easier to manage. No duty for gift giving, no stress. Just food and music that, at times, fell within his tastes. It was innocent enough and, admittedly, pleasant to get to experience once more. --What he did mind, however, was the new coming sound of an approaching vehicle. Whatever else he may have had to say got lost within his throat, just as out of view to where the dirt road snaked out onto the landscapes, barely hidden behind that of forests shrubbery and old cobble walls, the clear arrival of the one and only late guest came rumbling through.

Taking care not to hurt his hound, Cyrus pushed his chair back (meeting resistance from where its feet had sunk into the grass below) and slowly rose. With a wave of his hand towards his company, he bid his momentary farewell – all the while Eamon let out a hearty, full laugh that rumbled within his very gut.

“Ah, so that’s what scares you, then.”

---

As Cyrus ascended the modest hill towards the summer farms main building, he thought to himself that he and Eamon perhaps weren’t so different. However unbecoming he had thought the man’s obedience towards his wife’s family name to have been – to say that he couldn’t understand it, would been a bit of a lie. For, sometimes, the choice simply isn’t yours to make… --He had, after all, taken Cynthia’s name himself.

(Not in marriage, no, yet still as she always had said that he would…)

Forgoing stepping out of his shoes – a forced habit since the day that he landed in Unova – and ducking past curtains that carried Venipede holes, the chattering of the women whom tirelessly worked on the deserts that would be shared that evening slowly quieted.

Until one brave soul spoke up.

“Oh, Damian, just in time. Would you mind giving us a hand…?”

---

Midsummer was a holiday as exciting, as it was draining. But it was also one that served to be very, very distracting. --Not to him, oh no. But for their newly arrived guest. Cynthia was not only the darling to the people of an entire region – a monarch beloved by all. No, she also, within her own family, stood above the rest as someone divine. Someone to strive towards, someone to aspire to become.

Someone whose attention and aid you wished for at every waking hour of the day.

This served Cyrus quite well – as his escape into the farm house had come to an end much quicker than he would’ve ever liked for it to. The women of the family, one of which had a newly born darling by the name of Jamie sat in a sling upon her breast, had been much preferred company compared to that of the rest of the gathering. Though no less towheaded and plain, the air had laid different.

Tender, yet diligent. And with an extra set of hands, the making of the deserts had gone by that much quicker.

This had meant, however, that dinner could start but a tad bit earlier than previously expected. Quickly the sea of Nechayev’s filtered into the many tables set up upon the estates grounds – families, trying their hardest to figure out how to best fit themselves into groups of husbands and wives, children and cousins and everything in-between.

And to his delight, his hound had served as a wonderful buffer in securing his previous seat… off-center to the crowd.

(Away from the ends of which had been reserved to Cynthia and her immediate family; very much a deliberate choice.)

Eamon welcomed him back by that of a groan in his throat and a wave of his hand, and Cyrus favored the latter in return. Houndoom was quick to change position from underneath his seat, to behind it, as to not be a bother to the rest of the guests (and to avoid a kick to the face, should the gentleman before his owner decide to have a few too many drinks before six) and with that, Cyrus settled down.

“No more hiding?” Eamon teased, and down the length of the table Cyrus caught the gaze their newly arrived guest.

She smiled.

He looked away.

---

If Midsummer was a holiday for the children, then Christmas was one for adults.

As the sun lulled its way to its bed upon the tree crowns, the vast fields of the Nechayev property no longer littered with that of children and teens. The younger laid worn out and asleep either within their sober mothers laps; or sat propped before a movie within the farmhouse until they inevitably would succumb to the same exact fate. While the teens, he noted, mostly took to playing adults – or found activities inside to partake in and enjoy. Be it to prank call friends and play cards, or sit around upon the rocks beside the recently renovated outhouse. It didn’t seem to really matter as long as they could manage to get a cider or two from their intoxicated fathers to share.

If he strained his ears and listened, he could recognize a few tunes being played at the foot of the hill – that of old folk songs as well as new, and many of which spoke of alcohol and obscurities better left untold.

All done in a language he hadn’t favored for three odd years now. --Or, was it perhaps closing in on four…?

In his hand sat nothing but a plastic cup of water; and Cyrus came to wonder if that was exactly why his own family never truly had fancied themselves the celebration of this particular holiday. Noboru rarely had drank, as far as he could remember, and the moments that he had; it most often had been in the company of business officials and clients. Never did he take a beer with dinner, nor a shot of liquor in the evenings to aid his aged self settle.

(His mother, he knew, drank – but she certainly had thought herself to have been rather unassuming about it.)

Another reason, he supposed – as he whirled the tender cup between his fingers – was for the fact that their family had been but a small one. Maternal grandparents, he knew that he had though never had he gotten to properly know them. His paternal grandmother was but a distant memory of early childhood, while his paternal grandfather was a ghost hidden within picture books and quarrels.

A big family was required for an event to feel both special… as well as needed – and without them, there simply had been little point to even bother.

“There you are… If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you had been trying to avoid me, Damian.”

Past his shoulder, he caught sight of her – clad in a gown far too extravagant (revealing) for the evening at hand. In one hand, gathered and wrinkled, she held the length of her dress while within the other; a glass overfilled with velvet red wine. Her slender, feminine hand eventually came to settle against his shoulder – a weight that was hauntingly familiar – and he wasn’t surprised (nor pleased) when it traveled up upon the nape of his neck so that it could cradle the back of his skull.

His brow’s subtly dipped, but she caught it nonetheless. A chuckle mingling alongside her words. “Did I sour your mood that badly, dear?”

Nonchalantly his arms folded across his chest and a shrug followed shortly thereafter. That her hand upon him, in turn, fell, was an outcome that he couldn’t say he wasn’t pleased with. “Tired, more so than anything else. These events aren’t exactly my forte… but you knew that already.”

“Oh, I certainly do.” Theatrically, one slender fingers settled upon her painted lips and her auburn eyes gazed towards the lightly specked sky. “You were most unhappy when I dragged you out to Solaceon Town to spend the holidays with just little ol’ me.”

Her lips smiled against the brim of her ambrosia. “I remember having had a lot of fun with you, though.”

---

Though she had been but a foreigner in her youth to the region she eventually would come to claim as her own, Cynthia – since the day that they met – seemingly fit in with the population more so than he himself ever had. Her first months upon Sinnoh’s land, she had cried false tears and begged for him to come with her to the celebration up north; for, in her own words, she would ‘die’ if he left her all to herself come summertime. And though he now could understand that those had been shallow, meaningless words of which she would continue to spew until their eventual parting – back then, he had felt it cruel to not do as she wished out of fear that she indeed would decide to disappear from the world.

Foolish, perhaps, for she was the sort of girl whom would rather break down others than see her own self earn a single scar. --But, he hadn’t known that back then.

What he also hadn’t known, was that though Cynthia enjoyed the holiday for what it was; what she most had liked about it, was the opportunity it gave for her to play her own little made up games.

Games with rules that he never got to learn, but was expected to follow nonetheless.

Instead of having her dearest dance with her like all the others, linked together by hands around the pole as accordions and pianos blared the tunes to follow – she had wanted for him to do nothing but hold her from behind so that he may sway them back and forth. Her hands, trapping his just below her bust…

All so that she could guide them wherever she pleased when eyes inevitably came to stray their way...

---

(He had felt sick at the thought.)

---

She had always carried herself with something akin to faux grace, even as but a teenage girl. And gracefully, this evening, was exactly how Cynthia sunk to a squat beside his standing self. That the heels that she wore sunk into the lawn below, to the point where he imagined she would struggle to tug them out, was a guess that he felt confident enough to quietly make – and as she adjusted the fall of her dress (an act that left little to the imagination, where it dipped and fell to simply show more of the creamy flesh of her breasts) and dangled the glass by its lip between her parted thighs; a longing, dreamy sigh left her lips.

“What I would give, just to go back to that for an hour or two…”

Cynthia had, indeed, taken to the holiday much easier than he himself ever had.

But only because she had made it her own.

---

She had much rather played the game of adults behind that propped up stage at the event, crouched upon her knees between his parted, shaking thighs. His heart had hammered within his chest from the fear of being caught doing something so foul.

And with her lips stained with his boyish seed, as though a mockery of a young girls lip-gloss, she had praised him for being such a naughty church boy… --To change who he was, and remind him of the fact, had perhaps been the true name of her game.

---

“You know, I did so much for you back then,” came her quiet, soft admission, and Cyrus felt bile rise into the back of his throat. For she spoke as though every word was gospel – the good and honest truth. “Had it not been for me, you still would’ve been that lonesome choir boy whom never could say a word for his own personal sake…”

When he spoke, his voice was stern. Interruptive. “This dance of formalities is unnecessary, Cynthia…”

Laughter bubbled within her throat, as she brought her glass to have another taste of red.

“Simply talking is considered ‘formalities’ to you?”

“You have something to tell me, I can tell that you do.” Almost as an afterthought, after a beat of his own heart – he added: “… What is it that you want?”

Her mindless giggles, then, abruptly stopped. What mannerisms she had displayed to her family that evening evaporated out of her fingertips like smoke; and what was left, was a woman much more familiar to his eyes. --One less fake, less plastic… A Cynthia who finally decided to play as her honest self.

A smacking of her lips introduced her coming words.

“Oh, Cyrus…” The admittance of his past identity stirred him enough to glance down at her. Eyes framed by white – narrowed. “Why is it only me that you’re this way with? That you won’t talk to.”

For once, he felt he had no words. Perhaps because to admit to her the reason why felt wrong. --Felt dreadful, felt pathetic… childish.

(He loathed the way she made his chest constrict.)

“Is it because you don’t know what you should be saying to me?” Came her probing suggestion.

She never had wished to hear his thoughts regardless of which words he chose.

“Is it because you worry you will say something that you will come to… regret?”

Every moment with her had been filled with nothing but.

“… Is it, perhaps, because I’m not… her?”

The world, it seemed, fell quiet.

A deafening silence.

‘Her’, in truth, could be none other than she… Yet, still, anyone else. His hands wrung at his sides, his blunt nails finding their way to dig into the bed of his palms. If he once had considered himself masterful in disguising but a simple dip of his brow, then now – his eyes would be but windows for the lambent of emotions that flickered within his soul. Before a comment (a guess, an accusation) of his own could be made, however, Cynthia supplied him with his answer.

“You never had been this hesitant when you talked to that girl… When you told her all those lies and tried to get her on your side.”

His breath got lost in his throat as she turned, as she twisted her body so that she may stare up at him with those familiar, sultry eyes.

He felt a knot form within his stomach.

(A fox’s grin danced upon her lips.)

“Quite disgusting of you to have played with a little girl like that, don’t you think?”

When her hands, smaller than his, brushed their knuckles over the leg of his pants – up to his thigh, where they came to rest, sprawled and wide; Cyrus stood static and immobile, as though he was carved out of marble rather than flesh. And as she gently laid the glass of wine down onto the lawn, unconcerned of the blood red spillage upon it – raised onto the toes of her heels – and gripped at the buckle of his belt; Cyrus wondered if he still was that boy all those years back, who couldn’t for the life of him say no to a little bit of human contact…

“Didn’t you know that you could’ve played with me instead? I have never been anything short of willing…”

(What a repulsive, vile comparison she makes… As though his actions with her ever had been shrouded in perversion.)

What this knot that he felt was, was not one born out of lust; out of desire. No. For as he gazed down upon Cynthia – older than she once had been, filled out in all the ways that would set her outside the desired norm for a woman of Unova, yet no less the girl she once had been; when he looked down upon her now, he saw nothing but a woman with death painted lips.

A child’s blood, of whom she had once declared heroine.

His earthy, cold hands fell on top her feminine ones, and removed them from his person in one swift motion. The fact that she didn’t provide much resistance was perhaps a show enough of exactly how uncertain she truly had felt in her own chosen actions (fearing he would do something such as this, perhaps… A glimpse past the façade of unrivaled confidence and poise).

Had she been as she displayed herself to the world – unshakable, assertive and proud – then her hands most certainly would’ve fallen onto much more inappropriate places.

Places of which her eyes flickered to for but a split second, then traveled up to meet his very own; and if there ever had been a moment where one could say that the dearest champion looked like a child caught red-handed – then now certainly was the time.

“You were the one who played games with her, Cynthia.” His hands tightened where they held hers and a display of discomfort spread onto her features. “It was you who told her stories of heroism and it was you who promised that the world would be hers should she just give up her life in return. What I did was nothing but an attempt to get her away from the ledge that came to claim that same life and you-“

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Came her hitched, shrill query. As though there was humor to the topic at hand – as though her death had been anything but tragic and immoral.

Cyrus choked on his words, his tongue thick within his mouth as though it was made out of cotton. His hands around her wrists were impossibly cold and, as he glanced down upon them; he found they carried a subtle, yet defined, shake.

(Calm yourself, Cyrus… Stay. Calm.)

Low within his throat, as his shaky hold shifted to grasp around her forearms, he aided in pulling her back onto her feet. “Don’t make a fool of yourself before your family like this. Stand.”

She easily did as was asked of her, allowing herself to be pulled up like a daughter lifted by her father; and though he attempted to push her away from his person so that she would stand on her own – she had different ideas. Slender, pale arms snaked their way over and around his broad shoulders. Her fingers, dancing at the nape of his neck where a patch of snow white spread. And as her chest pressed against his own, as her pelvis fell in tune with his; a repetition of her words whispered against his ear in a tone that almost bordered on that of… concern.

“Cyrus… Didn’t anyone tell you about her? That she came back?”

No.

No one had told him.

---

They had found themselves huddled against the backside of the family home – overlooking rocks, a dried up creek and an abundance of ferns of which surely were littered with bugs and other such small critters. His right shoulder laid to rest against the worn wood paneling while her back did the exact same thing. Hunched, her arms folded beneath her chest and with her head titled away from his person. --Like this, she felt so much smaller compared to him… So much like they once had been.

What space they had earned, however, left little room for patience. His heart felt as though it was leaping directly within his throat; and he may as well have lost his words by the way he fumbled to find them.

In the end, he simply hissed them.

“… Why haven’t I heard about this until just now?”

She behaved as though she was but fifteen once more. Mousy, slouched and pouting with the entirety of her bottom lip. “You’re acting as though I deliberately kept it from you.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

He spat at her claim. “Do forgive me for not believing you, Cynthia. You haven’t exactly proven to be the most forthcoming when it comes to information of the past-”

A single painted finger bravely jabbed at his chest. “… Even if I had, it shouldn’t matter. You’re a criminal, Cyrus. A convicted felon that I saved from a life in prison and you should be fucking grateful that I’m even letting you know about that stupid girl-“

At midsummer’s eve, she had wanted nothing but for his hands to be upon her. She had wanted nothing but to feel the weight of them upon her flesh. But as Cyrus twisted where he stood, as he set his weight onto the palms of his hands just above her own two bare shoulders – as he trapped her between himself and the aged old wood of the Nechayev farm – she ended up wishing that she could be anywhere but. --Wishing that she wouldn’t be the target of his dismay, because she had never wanted for anything other than for the two of them to be good.

(Was that not why she had done what she had? Out of a twisted, self-fulfilling desire to claim him as her own once more?)

What accusation he had carried in his tone dilapidated into that of pure and honest anger. The corners of his lips, tightly drawn into a scowl while the bridge of his beaked nose brushed against her own – and he barked at her; scolded her.

“How dare you call the child you killed with your negligent promises stupid?”

Her own ire met his. “I told you already, she’s not dead.”

And so, silence fell. Save for the echo of crickets to be lost by morning light – save for the giggles of youth that spoke of crushes and first loves near the nest of human waste. --Save for the beating of their hearts, the mingling of their breaths.

And he, this time, was the one to break through the void.

“… Why now?” There was something raw to his throat. His words. A man like him – someone such as he shouldn’t speak as though he hurt. And, yet, he did. “Why tell me this now, am I no longer the despicable villain in the eyes of the world? Why?”

(He had thought he killed her twice over, for all these years.)

There was something unknown in his eyes.

Glassy.

Cynthia’s hand, for the first time that evening, hesitated. Paused to hover awkwardly at the curvature of his left shoulder. When he gave no inclination that he would retreat, shake her off or grow angry with her for touching him; she did exactly that.

His weight shifted to fall onto the length of his forearms.

“There’s… someone searching for her. And I thought, perhaps, that it had to do with you.” The confession was but a whispered breath – as though she knew, in her heart, that it was a claim without rhyme or reason. “I… realize now how stupid it sounds but I...”

If he felt he could’ve, then he would’ve laughed right at her. “You thought I would risk my parole to search for a dead girl?”

Luckily, Cynthia decided that she would do it for him. A hollow, soft sound; but a laugh nonetheless. And, perhaps, the most honest laugh that she ever had given him. “It wouldn’t have been your first otherworldly search…”

… He supposed that that would be a rightful claim to make.

She always had known, despite perhaps acting as though she hadn’t, that he had planned his actions since the tender age of seventeen. Perhaps not in full, perhaps not as defined and straight forward – but Cynthia had known. --When laid to share his boy room bed, with their fingers intertwined beneath the covers and beyond; he had told her that there were things in this world that he absolutely loathed. (She, in typical fashion, had wondered if she was a part of that ‘thing’ – to which an answer had not been given.) That there were people who deserved to live better than they did, yet could not; that there were people who did not deserve what they had, for they had done nothing in their lives but cause anguish to those around them.

He had told her that he wished to change the world from what it was, into something better.

And she had told him, between a tender touch of her palm to his cheek and a kiss placed upon his lips, that he was sick for having such thoughts in his mind. That to chase a dream such as that was to set oneself beyond reality; into insanity.

She had told him that he was insane.

And that she loved him for that fact. Because those not right, can be changed – and he was her own personal project.

And, perhaps he had been.

But if he had been insane, then she was equally so. To use a child in steed of your own prowess could not, or perhaps should not, be regarded as anything but exactly that. Insanity.

A disregard for human life for your own personal gain.

Even now, Cynthia saw what she did as but a minor slipup rather than the disgrace it had been. All proven by the fact that she still, even after so long, had the stomach to label the young girl as ‘stupid’.

(He wondered if she even could hear herself, the way that she spoke – or if she was willfully blind to her own personal faults.)

Strength returned to his limbs one by one. From resting all of his weight upon his own two forearms (his brow, almost flush against her own), to standing upright once more. And where his steps led him, was away from her. --Towards a creek that once had been.

He supposed that she had reason to worry of his involvement.

After all… There had been a promise made.

His hands fell to sit comfortably at the small of his back. His fingers, interlocked and settled - despite it all, he hadn’t changed all that much in these past three years.

(… Had she?)

Eventually, the one last lingering question bubbled to the frontlines. The end of the topic, the end of the conversation; all so that they could move on from whatever plane of existence they had come to find themselves upon.

“… Would I ever have known?”

Her voice was distant. Far. She hadn’t moved from where she rested against the chipped farmhouse exterior – nor had he expected that she would. She never had liked confrontations – at least not with him.

“… Known what?”

“If there hadn’t been someone seeking her out, if there hadn’t been a cause for concern in regards to my compliance of the rules… Would you ever have told me?” An hour of sunlight was, perhaps, what was left of the evening. In the creek before him, the singing of crickets already fell in tune. A familiar sound in all the wrong ways, of Kriketot’s and Kricketune’s lulling their young to sleep.

His hands wrung.

“… Would you ever have told me that she lived?”

Her answer was one that he hadn’t wished to hear, but had known to be the only real answer that she could give. --Because she always, always, had liked to keep him in the dark. Always had liked to lie, persuade and do whatever it would take to cause him the most harm.

So why would this have been any different?

“… No, I wouldn’t have.”

She would always be the same.

“I’m sorry, Cyrus.”

‘You’re not.’

---

The Nechayev was a family of great proportions, and its people held an even greater appetite for declared beverages of sin. During events such as Midsummer, it was typically accepted that every single member (save for, perhaps, the elderly – of which all had left hours prior) were to stay the night at whichever location the celebrations had been decided to take place upon that year.

(Last year, it had been set at a manor off the coast of Nimbasa City – and Cyrus distinctly remember having had to share a bed with an overtly drunk Nikita, where they had slept head-to-toe. --A memory that was, by all accounts, unpleasant…)

The farm was petite and quaint – and with barely half stuffed within its thin walls; they already pushed its tender limits. Therefore, some lucky few were left to either pitch tents of their own, or to sleep within the cars of which had brought them all there in the very first place.

This was the fate that himself and his ‘cousin’ had been afforded this time around – as it was for most of the men of the family.

The gentle rumbling of a car was a sensation that, as a young boy, always had been able to tire his restless self into deep and somber sleep. An oddity, though it may have been, for it had taken him until the age of five until he had able to properly fall sleep anywhere but against the swell of his mother’s breast.

Cars, however, had seemingly been a substitute of which had been equal in its soothing capabilities.

… So why was it, then, that he simply could not fall asleep?

For the first time in a long time, Cyrus felt… Restless. Despite the bright summer night, all that his eyes could truly see were the fuzzy, gray interior of their carpool vehicle while against his back – he felt the seats coarse fabric gnaw at his pinstripe shirt. To his left, curled up and slumbering like a young infant upon the reclined driver’s seat; Nikita laid – his knees, high against his chest while in the confined space, his bare feet bent awkwardly against the car’s side door. His mouth hung agape, displaying to the world teeth that were artificially whitened and pearly, yet still with the distinct speckles of unmined coal littered about in the back-most rows. --If he lulled his head back, then Cyrus could see that he wasn’t the only one awake, either.

Houndoom’s ruby gaze shone like headlights from their sockets, there in the trunk of their car.

… A thought came to him, then, that a mare may as well have been sat upon his chest – given the way he so relentlessly seemed to be fighting away any ounce of sleep that came his way. As though afraid that, should it claim him – then the vexing creature would crush the bones of which kept his heart caged. Just so that she may suffocate him, cause him concern; and give him exactly what it was that he deserved.

Perhaps it was simply that his mind was distorted by the memories of her – and nothing more.

They say guilt is a rope that wears thin, and his, it seemed, was at the point of breaking.

---

He had first met her at the brink of the winter, a few days past her twelfth birthday, at the lake embedded within the forests of which almost swallowed her small home town whole. To her eyes – and surely, to the boy whom had been at her side – he would’ve appeared as someone ominous. Someone untouchable, towering… Cold.

Yet he could remember how she eventually had come to reach for his hand to hold upon their very next meeting.

As though he was someone dear, and not a stranger.

(Perhaps he never had been as frightening as he had thought himself to have be.)

---

Cyrus sat up, and for the first time realized that though the sun had long since been replaced by the moon; the heat of summer still lingered. His wear felt clammy and warm, his hands equally so – and it was with sweat upon his palms that he reached for the window lever to roll it all the way down.

It took him three deep breaths to realize that somewhere far within himself, his heart was beating painfully hard. One, for his worn hands to palm at the collar of his shirt and, in turn, break the button of which pinned it closed over his throat.

Breathing, then, felt but a little bit easier.

Over his shoulder, he heard the shuffling of weight and by a glance towards the rearview mirror, he caught sight of the hound standing as tall as he could within the meager, confined space. With grace unbefitting his stature; Houndoom traversed over and onto the backseats to plant himself firmly upon them.

His muzzle felt wet and cold as it pressed against the shell of his ear, despite the wildfire of which festered within the dogs barrel chest.

“… Are you being disobedient, Sir?” He softly asked, a brow jutted and raised in mock question. His head turned and his nose came to settle against the dog’s short, dark coat while quietly to himself, Cyrus could admit that the sensation was somewhat ticklish.

Houndoom huffed.

---

He once had told her that if someone ever asked her if she was afraid – and her answer were to be a clear ringing yes – that she should tell them exactly that. Admit that she was terrified, that she was afraid… And that she hoped that things would just turn out okay. --This had been advice, however, of which he never ended up allowing for her to properly put to use. For though he never had thought himself to have been a man capable of causing such harm and she, most likely, had thought so as well; in the end, it was he whom had put her into fatal dangers way.

They had faced off like the caricatures that they were in Veilstone – the Hero against the Villain, and his true colors had come through. The ugly, frightened part of himself who had seen the possibility of his work being torn from his hands by that of a young little girl.

Had she been able to ask him the question back then – “Are you afraid, Cyrus?” – then his true and honest answer, as one by one she brought down the creatures he himself had never trained, as she beat his work (his dreams) beneath the earths rotten soil; Cyrus would’ve told her that yes.

He was afraid.

Terrified.

And that he had hoped that things would turn out okay.

She never had asked him that question (and why, truly, would she have?)… Just as much as he never asked her what she had felt, when he had sent the agape jaws of his hound at her to tear out the insides of her thin, tender throat.

He had not asked her, then, if she had feared him.

If she had feared for her life.

---

He gazed into the darkness beneath half-mast lids.

“… You would’ve done it, wouldn’t you Houndoom?” His words felt quiet and foreign, and as he turned in his seat to sink low within it; his arms crossed, and his feet settled upon the glove compartment box. If he was accusatory, then he cared not – he knew deep down that had he not been the one to have given him the command, then the hound would’ve stayed seated at his feet all those years back.

Still, he felt he simply had to ask: “You would’ve killed her, that girl. Without a second thought.”

As though there ever would be an answer to be found.

---

(She would’ve told him that she had been afraid. Terrified. And that she had felt as though things wouldn’t have turned out okay.)

---

Houndoom’s head was heavy against his shoulder, but no words left him. No matter how much Cyrus may have wished for him to have explain away his own personal faults. --What a stupid desire to have.

Out past the windshield, just above the line of which designated a cracked within the glass from where a pebbled had been carelessly tossed, the serene landscape rolled into misty, cold hills. The suns tangerine glow would not arrive for another hour still, perhaps two, and in a world within himself, Cyrus recalled that she – Hikari – once had said that she enjoyed the taste that the mist oftentimes brought forth. It had been a display of which had put forth just how childish she still had been back then, despite having fallen into her earliest teenage years.

She had wandered across logs and into shallow pools of water with her arms held out as wings at her sides, and she had asked him if he could hold her hand to make sure that she would not fall.

Her tongue, half stuck out past glossy, stained lips.

Quietly, with but his hound as witness; Cyrus laughed. A laugh of which brought a shake to his shoulders and rattled the lungs hidden within his breast. A laugh of which was dry, just as well as wet – a laugh at the notion that the girl he had thought he killed was alive somewhere there in the world, and he hadn’t known. --Hadn’t been allowed to know…

His eyes trailed from the outside world, to where his sock-clad feet were set. The compartment box of which housed anything but gloves, but rather knickknacks and stuffed out fags of which Alexandra shamefully hid from the world.

There were many things of which Cyrus no longer was allowed to do. Many things of which he no longer was allowed to partake in, nor indulge within. As far as punishments went, he knew that he had gotten away with matters that were – in truth – unforgivable.

He had stolen and harvested recourses that had not been for his taking. He had destroyed an eco-system for his own personal gains.

He had attempted to rid the world of its life, with the miniscule and uncertain possibility of being able to rebuild it once more.

He unraveled where he sat, and fingered at the clasp of which kept the treasures of the glovebox from his sight.

… Did he believe in it, still? That he would’ve been God in place of Him. Did he believe, still, that he did it out of love – rather than a sense of vengeance and hate?

He had once told her that to lie was the foulest of sins that someone could commit – and liars, no matter what, could not and should not be trusted. Yet, he supposed; he had lied to her still. --Had expressed that he never, ever, would be able to hurt her. That she could trust him, unlike Cynthia, on this path that she had found herself upon.

He had lied and told her that he was going to create a better world, when he had had no knowledge of if such a thing was even possible.

With a click, the drawer fell open and alongside it came droves of paper and pens, burned out cigarettes and empty gum containers. All of which gathered at his feet, within his lap or wherever else there was room to fill. Rather than clean after himself, however, Cyrus rummaged. Sought a pen whose nub was not broken and gone; sought a piece of paper of which wasn’t already scribbled upon and destroyed.

Houndoom whined behind him, while Nikita quietly snored.

There were many things of which Cyrus no longer was allowed to do. Many things of which he no longer was allowed to partake in, nor indulge within.

There were many rules of which he had been asked to follow, and in turn he would be granted his greatest wish. --He would be able to go back home.

---

Seated almost hip to hip on a hill stained by painter’s hands, she had once asked him;

“Do you think I will grow to be just as big as you?”

And he had pondered for a moment, eyes of which almost were a mimicry of her own dancing over the height of her childish cheeks and bug-like gaze. She truly had been nothing but a child, way back then. “You can grow in many different ways, Hikari. I am simply… tall.”

Such answers never were satisfactory to children, although she had seemed to muse over it all for a moment in time. Her lips, gnawed at by her teeth while her fingers had played with her off-white scarf.

(He had wondered when it was last that she gave it a good wash.)

---

What he sought, he eventually found; and wasn’t that just typical of Cyrus Akagi? Without taking care of the mess of which he had made, he slammed the compartment box close in one swift motion. One that rattled the inhabitants of the vehicle, yet did not awake those who slept. (And thank the Gods for that…)

With pen and paper in hand, Cyrus stared blankly at the sheet of white. Like freshly laid snow within summer time, far up north where the sun no longer settled and the tips of the trees were left bare. --His throat felt thick. Dry.

He hadn’t felt this way since he was but a child.

… Indeed, there were many rules of which Cyrus had been asked to follow in return for his greatest desire. To not seek out the faith of which had fostered his entire being from the day that he turned three – to the people of which he called mother and father.

Cyrus had been asked to never, ever, seek to contact anyone from his past until his Time. Was. Up.

---

“… But, do you think?”

Cyrus hadn’t lied to her. Had spoken nothing but the truth, with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the strings his cheeks.

“… No, I don’t think you will.”

---

And yet, as he braced the led tip of his pencil against the pale, unmarred paper; the thought of consequences evaporated out of his fingertips like water off a ducks back.

And so, he begun to write:

‘How tall are you now, Hikari? ...’

#(ic - muse)#(Guest - Cynthia)#(Guest - Hikari)#Story Progression - Cyrus #Story Progression - Hikari #drabble #important #listen when i say this fuckers long?#its LONG #but its OH so important #both for cyrus's development #as well as hikaris #i pray tumblr wont fuck this up in some manner please please pleaseee

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firesidebi · 4 years

Text

she knew him for a summer

Of course the first time I decide to write fanfic for the first time in two years is the time that ao3 decides to to maintenance lmao. Anyways this was very much inspired by the posts and fics @gr33kg0ds makes about Sally and Poseidon.

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Day 2

He had now noticed her for a second time. This was quite unusual for him, as he had managed to break the long standing habit of glancing in the direction of mortals. He was quite content with observing a particularly well-looking one every now and then but he had finally begun to congratulate himself on the fact that he was now able to let them slip from his mind. It had been a few decades since he and his brothers promised not to entangle themselves with humans and he was quite positive that none of them had broken that particular oath.

It was hard at first, glancing past the mortals. He had never quite realized how much his eyes seemed to linger on them until he was told he was no longer allowed to. The first couple of years were hard, especially when they approached him. He was not used to resisting the urge to offer a beautiful girl a crooked grin, not used to having to restrain flashing his sea-green eyes in the direction of a handsome mortal man. He knew that he was probably getting along better than Zeus but that did not mean that he was entirely without suffering. But as the years went on it became easier and easier. Now, on the off chance that he visited the mortal world, he was used to rejecting the individuals that attempted to throw themselves at him. He no longer felt the overwhelming desire to approach a beautiful human and woo them away from whomever was already occupying their time. He was content with observing.

He was strolling on the shore when he once again saw the young woman with long black curls and warm brown skin. The sun had set not too long ago and the pier was filled with the sounds of mortals laughing and cheering over the various games and rides they were occupying themselves with. The beach was no longer as crowded as it had been earlier that same day and he was quite content with the ambient noise of the boardwalk and waves around him. However, the noise was soon interrupted by a shriek. Jumping slightly, he turned around and glanced over at a small group entertaining themselves around a tiny bonfire. Laughter was now coming from the group as a girl with blonde hair tied up in a ponytail shoved her friend, who was shaking with laughter. Even from his distance, he was able to notice how her laugh made her whole body shake, causing her curls to bounce around her shoulders. In the midst of her laughter she glanced up in his direction and the two made eye contact. He quickly looked away, pretending not to notice how her eyes softened with recognition from their encounter the previous day. He continued to stroll down the beach.

Day 8

“You know you are going to have to tell me your name eventually Mr. Stranger,” she said as she waded through the water. “It’s not fair that I’ve told you mine and you keep holding yours against me.”

He chuckled and splashed some water in her direction, causing her to stumble back in a poor attempt to evade it.

“I don’t understand why you insisted on going in the water if every time I go to splash you-.”

“We’ve already had this discussion Fish Boy,” she laughed. “If I wanted to get wet I would go under the water myself.”

“Did you just call me Fish Boy?” he asked incredulously.

She offered him a radiant grin that he was growing more and more fond of as the days passed on. At first it had been a fleeting sense of satisfaction any time he managed to pull one out of her, but now he began to notice that he was going out of his way to see if he could produce the reaction from her.

“Don’t pretend that I haven’t noticed how they swarm around you from time to time. For a public beach they don’t seem to really know to stay away from the shore.”

“It’s not my fault that they’re drawn to me,” he huffed. And it was true, it wasn’t his fault that they came over to him so close to the mortals. He was their ruler and they were his subjects, of course they would come over to him for aid or out of curiosity.

“Are you sure that you haven’t laced yourself with fish food?” she asked.

“Believe me, they hate that stuff,” he said. “Unless a fish has only grown up without any other alternative those thin flakes are absolutely disgusting compared to what they could be having.”

“And you know this how?” she laughed.

He turned to face her and noticed that she had moved closer to him yet again. Despite the protests from his splashing, she still seemed to be drawn to him. He didn’t know if it was because of his godly-ness or if she simply liked to be in close proximity to him. A small part of him hoped for the later.

“I know this Sally Jackson,” he smirked. “Because as you have so kindly pointed out, the fish like to converse with me.”

She rolled her eyes at him and waded deeper into the water.

“Don’t tell me then,” she said. “But mark my words Fish Boy, I will find out your secrets!”

He let out a laugh of his own as she dove into the water, purposely kicking her legs up to splash him.

Day 20

She had seen him. Of course, mortals were always prone to viewing the actions of gods but the mist covered it up. He had seen it over the millennia, the mist disguising his conflicts both on land and in the sea. How many times had he been battling one of the many monsters that had resurged from Tartarus for it to be reported as nothing more than a sudden hurricane on the mortal news? That was the point of the mist after all, for the mortals not to see. For them not to have any inkling of the godly world.

But Sally had seen him.

These last two weeks had been dangerous for him. He knew he should not be getting close with any mortal but for some reason he still couldn’t manage to break whatever was forming between him and Sally Jackson. She was enchanting like no mortal had ever been before. She was carefree and did not seem to care that those around them would falter while sparing a passing glance at him. She did not hesitate to roll her eyes at him when he made a particularly bad joke or glare at him when he still refused to tell her his name (though now she had made a guessing game out of it, hoping to trip him up one day). Her laugh moved through her whole body and he couldn’t help but look her way when he heard the melodic sound escape from her lips. The last two weeks of spending time in the sun with her had caused her already brown skin to darken even further and made the soft sprinkling of freckles adorning her face and shoulders deepen. She was mesmerizing and dangerous and she had somehow seen him through the mist.

He wasn’t doing anything particularly damning, nothing that would cause the mist to have to exaggerate its hold over the eyes of mortals. The sun had gone down not too long ago and the beach was not particularly crowded in the area he occupied. This was good, for even though he had been spending most of his time on land he still had business to attend to in the sea. A hippocampi had tracked him down to update him on the conflicts in the southern Atlantic. As god of the sea, it was up to him to find a way to settle the issue without too many repercussions on either side. He was caught up in the information and did not hear the soft footsteps from behind him, if he had he may have had time to think of an explanation.

“So,” he heard a familiar voice drawl and a pit developed in his stomach. “You weren’t lying when you said you talked to the fish.”

Sensing the change in atmosphere, the hippocampi dove back under the water without any preamble and left his king without any means to explain himself.

“I-,” he stuttered as he turned around to face the shorter woman. She had her arms crossed and was looking up at him with an indiscernible expression. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Sally rolled her eyes and took a step closer. Although he was immortal and had dealt with conflicts much more heinous than this, he had been absent of the dread that lay within his chest for a long time now. He had grown unfamiliar with the piercing gaze of a mortal that did not worship him.

“This stuff,” she said, gesturing to the ocean. “This stuff is something I have lived my life seeing. Nobody else seems to see it and everyone calls me crazy. Are you going to be like them?”

“No,” he spluttered.

He hadn’t even hesitated.

“Then I want you to start explaining yourself,” Sally said coolly. “I want you to explain what the fuck I just saw, why I am seeing it, and how you’re involved with all of it.”

“You’re going to think it’s crazy, mortals always do.”

She didn’t falter at his use of the word ‘mortal.’ Instead, she stepped closer to him and looked up at him defiantly.

“Try me,” she whispered.

He opened his mouth and then closed it. He didn’t want to scare her off but something in the back of his mind told him that if she wasn’t scared off by now then she would never be. Something even further back told him that it would be better for everyone if she was scared. Shoving aside his thoughts he reached out his hand and took hers into it, silently pleased that she had not flinched away from his touch.

“Let’s take a walk Sally Jackson,” he said softly. “And I shall tell you everything.”

Day 29

It had been almost a month since he had been drawn to Sally. It had been over a week now that she knew of his identity and everything else that came with it. But she had not ran from him or his proclamation that he was ‘Poseidon the Almighty God of the Sea.’ She had taken his words in stride and did not interrupt him once during their entire conversation. Sally had saved all her questions for the end.

“Why am I able to see through the mist?”

“So that first day I saw you, the trident you were holding wasn’t a prop?”

“My parents were killed in an unexplained crash, is that the fault of your brother?”

“Why are you here?”

Of all the questions she had posed he had tried to give her an honest explanation for each of them. He didn’t know why she could see through the mist, nor if his brother was involved in any of the suffering she had gone through. The only question that had remained unanswered was her inquiry about his presence. He didn’t want to lie to her and say he didn’t know, he knew well enough why he had decided to dwell in the mortal world for so much longer than he allowed himself these past couple of decades. He knew that every time she leaned on him he could feel the same spot she had rested herself burning that very night back in his palace. He knew that every time she looked up at him he felt as if he had found something that had been missing for a long time. Every smile and laugh that he brought out of her presented him with a deep sense of satisfaction that he was the one able to make her react in such a way.

He knows why he is here. And he thinks that she knows to.

Day 35

They’re drinking and he can imagine the jibes that Dionysus would be sending his way if he could see him. He prided himself on not overly indulging himself at parties and gatherings on Olympus, leaving that to Dionysus and Apollo or even Aphrodite if it was a particularly good party.

The party he was at currently did not even begin to scratch the surface of extravagant. However, what this party had that others in the past had lacked was Sally Jackson.

When Sally had invited him to the bonfire party he hadn’t really expected much. That second time he had seen her he had gotten the gist of what it would entail. But he was weak around her and couldn’t reject the opportunity to spend more time with her. When they arrived she introduced him to a couple of people as the mystery guy they had been hearing so much about.

“So what’s your name mystery man?” Sally’s blonde friend asked while handing him a plastic cup that smelled a bit too strong to be simply a coke. He took a sip and tried not to grimace. Definitely too strong to be just a coke.

“Does it really matter?” he asked. “It’s not like anyone here will be sober enough to remember it.”

Sally gave him a look while the blonde girl blinked at him before letting out a laugh. Next to her, the boy with his hand around her waist was also laughing at his remark.

“Oh man,” the boy smiled. “I understand why Sally likes you so much, you’re hot and snarky.”

“I’m not meaning to be snarky,” he replied. “I’m simply stating the truth.”

He downed the rest of his cup while the blonde and boy laughed some more over his words. He couldn’t tell if they actually thought he was that funny or if they were just that intoxicated. Luckily, he didn’t have to ponder that thought for long, as Sally had grabbed his arm and was steering him towards the fire where the music was considerably louder. At some point during their short walk over there he had accumulated another drink courtesy of his escort who now also held a plastic cup of not-coke in her hand.

“Come on Fish Boy,” she said while knocking back the rest of her drink before tossing it on the sand. “Dance with me.”

“I hope you plan on picking that up,” he answered as she put her arms around him. “Litter and pollution are some of my biggest problems right now and I would hate to be seen with someone who so carelessly disregards the environment.”

“Don’t worry Poseidon, I’ll clean up all of my garbage if you do me the honor of dancing with me.”

She smiled and began to move inviting him to place his hands upon her hips as she moved to rhythm. He hoped that the light of the fire and the alcohol made it so she wasn’t able to see him flush at the sound of her using his name. Taking a breath he quickly chugged the rest of his drink before tossing his own cup down on the ground. He placed his hands on her hips and guided her closer to him. He let out a laugh of his own as Sally took his hand and made him twirl her.

Day 36

Dionysus would definitely be laughing at him if he could see just how much a drunken fool he was in this moment. The party was technically still going on but somehow he had drunk enough to make himself tipsy, a goal not so easily obtained by a god. Sally was also slightly intoxicated but not so much that she needed to be carried back to the cabin she had rented out for the summer. Still, she didn’t hesitate to take him up on his offer of steadying her as he walked her home.

“Such a gentleman you are,” she smirked when he had asked.

She fumbled with her keys when they arrived but was able to unlock the door without any assistance. He tried not to let his curiosity shine as he took in the place that she had made her home for the past month. The kitchen was small and there was no table to eat at. There was however a small, dingy looking couch and television. Scattered around the kitchen counters and couch were a handful of books that he recalled Sally mentioning to him on a couple of occasions.

“It’s not much,” she said. He noticed that she looked a little bit bashful as she noticed him taking in everything. “It’s all I have at the moment but I’ve done my best within the renting parameters.”

“I think it’s perfect,” he said. He guessed it was the right thing to say because she quickly turned around and moved toward the kitchen, trying to hide her blush in the process.

“Can I get you anything to drink? I’m not familiar with what gods need to do to sober up.”

“Some water would be nice,” he said. He moved on over to the kitchen. Sally didn’t seem to notice his change in location and so when she turned to walk back over to him she jumped, causing some of the water to spill out of the glass she had poured for him.

“Crap, I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I swear I didn’t mean to spill something on you.”

He chuckled and took the glass from her hand, drinking the remaining water left in the cup. Without saying a word he lifted his free hand and ever so slightly summoned the spilled water back into the glass. He put the glass down on the counter and met her eyes which had finally started to look like what he was used to seeing out of mortals.

“So,” she whispered. “You really are a god.”

“Did you not believe me?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been before.

“I believed you,” she sighed. “But still…”

“Still?” he asked.

“It’s still crazy,” she explained. “I mean, I go my whole life having all this weird stuff happening around me and then you show up and offer an explanation for it? What do you gain by doing that?”

He could hear the unspoken question in her words. Why are you here?

“I didn’t offer you an explanation to gain anything,” he said. “I offered you one because you deserved it.”

“Why are you still here then? I have my explanation, the gods are real. Monsters are real. They’re real and powerful and have been following me my entire life.”

“Do you want me to go?” he asked in a whisper. He could tell that she was getting frustrated and confused. He knew that performing parlor tricks with the water brought that out in mortals but he hadn’t been thinking. He was with her and he was slightly tipsy and it had been so long since he had allowed himself to feel this way about a mortal. A mortal that could see him clearer than anyone had ever been able to. But if she wanted him gone he could do that. He could leave for her.

“I don’t know,” she confessed after a moment. “You’ll have to leave at some point right?”

“Yes,” he said. He would not sugar coat anything for her and she was correct in her assumption. He would have to leave at some point.

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

(And he didn’t.)

“But I can stay right now.”

(And he could.)

She looked up at him and studied him for a while but he didn’t stop to question it. He could see her brows furrowing while trying to figure him out and process their entire fucked up situation. He was a god and she was a mortal. He would have to leave her and it would pain him to do so. He was not meant for the land and she was not meant for the sea.

“Stay,” she whispered as her brows unfurrowed.

He nodded his head before leaning downwards and pulling her face to his. He no longer cared about the agreement or the prophecy that threatened Olympus. All he cared about was how soft her lips felt against his and how perfectly she fit into his arms as he lifted her up.

Day 57

The sound of the rain softly hitting the roof of the cabin was muffled by the sound of her laughter.

“You mean to tell me,” Sally laughed. “You mean to tell me that all these years you have lived you have never, not once, made pancakes?”

“I didn’t think it would be that hard!” he scoffed.

“It’s not!” she exclaimed in between her giggles. “Only you could somehow find a way to make the simplest meals turn into rocket science.”

“Well excuse me for trying to be romantic,” he huffed, now embarrassed by the situation. He turned away from her but felt her touch on his arm.

“Hey,” she said. He turned to face her and her expression had gone from shifted from amusement to fondness. He felt that familiar sense of pride deep in his chest out of the satisfaction that he was the reason for those softened features.

“Why don’t I teach you how to make some pancakes,” she offered. “That way the next time you want to be romantic you won’t ruin the kitchen that I’m renting.”

She took his hand and led him into the kitchen so that they could clean up his mess together. All the while his mind kept whispering, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Day 64

Nevermind a confession of love, this was the dangerous part.

The way her body writhed underneath his and how her nails scratched down his back as he pushed into her. The sound of his name leaving her lips in-between the tiny moans and pants she let out as he did his best to pleasure her.

“Fuck,” she moaned.

And she was fucked. And so was he. The two of them were utterly and completely fucked because despite the pleasure and the want of being wrapped up in her, he knew that this was dangerous. He knew that if he truly loved and cared for her he would have left that night after the bonfire before they got past the point of no return.

But as she called out his name again and he looked down and saw how utterly wrecked she looked because of what he was doing to her he was able to quell his worries. In front of him was a woman more beautiful than any mortal or god or nymph. Here in this old and used bed was a woman worthy of breaking an oath for.

Day 75

“I have a wife,” he confesses one night, long after they had finished pleasuring each other. She was curled around him and running her fingers up and down his chest as he played with her hair.

“Amphitrite, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” he whispered. He was so afraid of her judgement but it did not come. Instead she shifted herself closer to him.

“Do you love her?”

“I do,” he said. “But differently than how I love you.”

She hummed and nuzzled her face into his side. He knew that this was an invitation to continue on if he wanted to but knew she would not hold it against him if he failed to speak anymore on the matter.

“She,” he began. “She’s like me. Immortal. She has been around long enough to see the world change and progress. She’s a constant reminder of my own godliness, a reminder that I have a role and duty to fulfill. Part of me is thankful for that, she grounds me in the godly world and is there when I need a reminder of what I am. Eons ago, when I was much younger and full of rage, she was the only one who would be able to calm me down to stop the ocean from spilling out.”

Sally was looking at him now, her head perched up and no longer half-asleep. He was so nervous telling her this but she made no protest at his admissions.

“I think that when I leave she will be the only person able to quench the rage in me for not being able to stay with you,” he confessed. “I love you so much Sally and it’s going to hurt so much when it’s time for me to go but know that the type of love I have for my wife is a companionship. And that when the ocean rages and then calms it is her stopping me from putting you in any more danger.”

“Does she know about me?” Sally asks after a long moment of silence. So long that he had begun to think she had fallen asleep.

“I think she does. I think she suspects. And if she suspects then my brothers may start to suspect.”

“What aren’t you telling me Poseidon?” she whispers. “Why is it so dangerous?”

And so he tells her about the prophecy and the measures that his brothers and the rest of the gods would go to in order to make sure that it doesn’t come to fruition. He tells her about the oath and the fact that he is the only one to have broken the oath which puts her in so much danger. No other mortal had been able to tempt them, only Sally Jackson. And that power is dangerous.

Day 84

He can’t find it within himself to be upset when she tells him. He can’t find it in himself to be anything but absolutely ecstatic. He takes her into his arms and twirls her around on the shore and it’s so much like the start of their time together. The weather has gotten colder and Amphitrite has already confronted him about his time spent away from home. He knows what this means if she has had to step in. He knows that the others are conversing with her and that she has loyally covered for him despite being so undeserving of that loyalty.

But when Sally tells him that she’s pregnant, her expression unreadable because of her own lingering fear of his reaction, he can’t help but to take her into his arms and kiss her. It’s only after seeing his own joy that she allows the smile he loves so much to unfurl and lets out a joyous laugh as he whispers how much he loves her into her ear.

He ignores the slight rumble of thunder in the sky.

When they get back to the cabin that night they celebrate by eating breakfast for dinner and having a contest to see who can create the most extravagant ice cream sundae. They kiss and have sex and tangle themselves up together in a way that they both have grown used to over the weeks spent like this together. He tells her stories of heroes and skillfully omits the unhappy endings from their stories. He knows that she is well-versed in myths and most likely knows the information he leaves out. He tells her that these demigods all received training and that they’re still able to.

“The camp protects them,” he whispers in her ear as they drift off to sleep. “It trains them and prepares them for the rest of their life.”

Day 92

“You could come with me,” he offers. “I can build you a palace and we can raise our son together, away from the eyes of my brothers and away from the prophecy.”

They stand on the beach, his feet touching the water and hers touching the sand. The hippocampi had come to him that morning, delivering a message from Amphitrite.

“Husband,” the note read. “Things are looking bad here. While I understand you have...business in the mortal realm that we can discuss later on, the kingdom grows suspicious of your lack of presence. Triton inquires about your whereabouts and he is not as understanding as I am. Please, I believe it would be in the best interest for everyone if you were able to wrap up your business and return home. Reinstate the fact that you're their king and prevent any more surprise visits from the other Olympians.”

He offered the note to Sally earlier but she shook her head and gave it back to him. She told him it wasn’t her place to read it and that she understood that it was time.

“I prepared for this, remember?” she smiled. “When this started I knew you had to leave one day.”

“I knew that too,” he said. “But there’s still a way-,”

“No Poseidon,” she said firmly. She offered no explanation but he understood. When this whole thing started between them he knew that she was never offering to follow him back to the sea. He was agreeing to stay as long as he could with her and when the time for him to leave came she would let him go.

How is he supposed to do the same with her?

“Sally I love you so much,” he said. “And I love our child so much. Make sure they know that.”

He had told her that he probably wouldn’t be able to visit either of them. He saw the hurt in her eyes when he had told her but it had to be said, he would be honest with her one last time before leaving.

She nodded her head and he cupped her face in his hands for one final time. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead and pretended not to hear the shaky gasp she let out at the feeling of his lips on her skin. He wouldn’t indulge himself in her lips. He wouldn’t do that to them, when their parting was already so hard.

He whispered one last declaration of love before separating himself from her and turning towards the sea. The waves crashed down roughly on the sand, betraying his outrage at the entire situation. But he knew that Amphitrite would be there to help him through this and knew that as long as he walked into the water both Sally and their child would be safe. And that was enough for him.

#what up pjo fandom your revival has sparked something within me #sally jackson #poseidon pjo #sally x poseidon #pjo #gr33kg0ds #my writing

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darkmindsotome · 4 years

Text

Wrapped For Dinner

Fandom: Love 365 Irresistible Mistakes

Pairing: Shunichiro Tachibana x MC

Word count: 3,796

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #13: Sex under the sun dress

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

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Wrapped For Dinner

My latest big project at Addison & Rhodes had me working as lead creative. It was long hours and a lot of hard work but in the end, we were able to pull off a pretty fantastic ad campaign that was currently trending and going viral.

To say I was relieved at the response was putting it modestly. Toma had already teased me about the stupid grin on my face creeping him out at work and Natsume had commented on it as well when he dropped off the updated sales figures. I managed to laugh them both off, nothing was going to put a dampener on my good mood. Well, almost nothing…

The phone rang at my desk the caller ID clearly displaying it was from the creative director’s office. I picked up the receiver as I pressed the button to answer. I had palpitations in my chest knowing my boyfriend was calling me during work hours. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this?

“Creative department, MC speaking.”

“Always so professional.” I could hear Shinichiro’s deep voice as he chuckled. It managed to send tingles rippling through me. “Good work on that last project I just saw the updates. The projections look set to knock the client’s preferred targets out of the park.”

“Thank you, Sir. It means a lot hearing you say that.” My mood and happiness seemed to increase ten-fold being praised by him.

“… Listen about later, I’m going to have to take a rain check. One of the larger clients for the company had a scheduling issue and I was asked by the higher-ups to cover for someone who is still off-site.” Shunichiro’s words were like a bucket of ice water bringing me firmly back to Earth.

“Oh, that’s fine.” I didn’t know what else to say in response, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me and I rolled my chair a little closer to my desk hoping the computer monitor would hide me from the rest of the department.

“I knew you’d say that. I’ll make arrangements for something soon and make it up to you.” He sounded genuinely sorry but what worried me more than the cancelled date was how tired he sounded.

“You don’t have to worry, work is work. I’ve bailed on you a few times recently too.” I tried to mask my disappointment with a little enthusiasm. I really didn’t want to add to his problems by making him worry about me.

“Well alright if that’s how you really feel. You seriously did a great job this time I’m going to have to work harder to stay ahead.” It was reassuring to hear him accept my response and hear the motivation return to him. I could feel the smile returning to my face just listening to him.

“I’m still nowhere near –”

“I’m going to have to go another call is coming in.” Shunichiro cut me off after an electronic beeping on the line.

“Alright.” I nodded. He was busy and while I had really wanted to see him it couldn’t be helped.

“Mc? I can’t wait to see you.”

The line went dead as I held the receiver to my ear for a few seconds letting his parting words linger.

“Oh, Shun… you really don’t play fair.”

With no new projects that required my immediate attention, I was actually able to leave the office on time for the first time in ages. It was the weekend and the original plan had been to go to Shunichiro’s last night and spend the weekend together.

I looked over at the weekend bag I dragged back from a locker at the train station last night. Takuro had given me a quizzical look when I came back with it, but he was now curled up on top of the bag fast asleep.

Reaching for my phone I shot a quick message to Shunichiro wishing him good luck at work then hopped into the shower. With my hair dry but a towel still wrapped around me, I rifled through my wardrobe looking for clothes. I picked up the summer dress Yuiko had helped me find on our last shopping trip together.

The delicate gradient of pastel shades made the dress look like a dawn sky and the petals spread out around the baseline hem looked like I had kicked up waves of Sakura flowers. It made me feel happy and a change in mood was certainly what I wanted right now.

I hadn’t been very sure about it, after all, it was a wrap-around dress that caused a deep plunge to my neckline. My reaction had made Yuiko laugh as she kept encouraging me to try it on insisting that if it was to go on a date that it was perfect. In the end, I bought it, I wanted to see his reaction but that was not happening today.

Tying the fabric around my waist I checked myself in the mirror and slipped on a pair of kitten heels. Today may not be the day I get to see him but it was still a day off. Plus, I had been working so hard at the office recently I had no groceries in the apartment to make breakfast. Grabbing my purse, I exited my place in search of sustenance.

My parents had always warned me about food shopping on an empty stomach. I really didn’t want to end up carrying a ton of things back with me just because I was thinking with my belly and not my brain. After cutting through the park I came out onto the main road and spotted a familiar sign for McDonald's and went in.

Quickly grabbing a McMuffin and a coffee to go I was just on my way out again when I walked smack into someone. A familiar scent of a particular brand of cigarette, cologne and citrus shampoo filled my senses.

“Whoops! Careful, are you alright?” My eyes followed the arms supporting me. Navy blue suit with grey pinstriped vest and a custom shirt. Finally reaching his face and those deep brown eyes. My mind went blank as I stood there, face to face with Shunichiro. “Wait… MC?”

Clearly, I was not the only one surprised to see my partner. Shunichiro’s eyes looked me over from head to toe as if to check it was really me. I was suddenly very aware of his arms around me and felt a little self-conscious with how he was looking at me. I haven’t done anything different with my usual makeup, maybe its the dress. Does he not like it?

“Morning, late night?” I took half a step back putting a little space between us and the awkward situation.

“Yeah, fast food always tastes better after a late night. If you’re free right now we could eat together.” He shrugged, composed as always. This kind of situation really doesn’t rattle him, I guess that’s something that comes from age and experience.

“Really?”

“Well, it’s up to you. What do you want?” He was clearly holding back laughter I probably sounded or looked childish right now. His playful tone was not lost on me if anything it triggered more of my childish side.

“You have to ask?” I gave him a small glare that made him smile wider.

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

I found a booth and sat down feeling completely unsure as to what I was now supposed to do. I wasn’t supposed to see him today at all and the fact I now was had thrown me. The look on his face when he recognised me also bugged me a little. While I was lost in thought a second bag was placed next to mine and the cushioned seating at my side pressed lower as Shunichiro sat down.

“I was going to phone you later.” He began talking as he cracked open his bag and began pulling out two McMuffins and a pastry.

“You were?” I looked at his face in profile, he was always handsome but something about this slightly tired look had me thinking back to our time spent together in bed. I reached out for my own bag of food to distract myself from my own lude imagination.

“Mhm,” He filled his mouth with a bite of his breakfast and then sucked hard of the straw for his iced fruit juice. I could have laughed at myself for how I suddenly felt very jealous of a straw, watching his moist lips wrap around it. “After pulling an all-nighter, preparing copies and things for the meeting. The client phoned saying they would have to reschedule again.”

He sighed and leaned back against the booth seating. He was frustrated and tired, you didn’t have to be his girlfriend to see something so plain.

“After you put in all that work!? That’s just too much…” I raised my voice a little allowing the annoyance I felt to at least show even if he wouldn’t.

“It’s a big account and the board members all want to keep it, but when I left the office earlier they were all apologising to me for the extra work.” He gave a wry smile and sucked a bit more on his drink. This was one of the many things I actually loved about this man. His dedication to his craft made him glow in a way that always had me dazzled, it motivated me to keep pushing forward.

“Must be nice to be in demand like that.” I smiled feeling some of my anger subside. He was so talented and respected by everyone in the company. Remembering that a warmth spread through my chest as a wave of affection hit me for the man at my side.

“You are as well you know? I am always getting requests for you to handle accounts personally.” There is a look on his face that even in profile seems to reflect everything I was just feeling about him back at me.

“You’re joking!” I nearly choked on my coffee as my embarrassment caught in my throat. Great work there MC remember to breathe air, not coffee.

“I’m really not.” Shunichiro chuckled at my little outburst making me feel even more childish sitting next to such a well put together man. He had already devoured his pastry and moved on to the rest of his food without me even noticing. “It actually makes me feel very...” He turned his head to look at me the expression painted on his face was not one I saw when working. It was softer but there was an intensity swimming in his eyes that automatically had my core tightening under that gaze. He smiled and then gave my food a nudge closer to me. “Your food is getting cold.”

“Oh!” The spell holding me seemed to break at his prompting. I really wanted to know what he didn’t finish saying, but the timing was now all wrong.

I don’t know if he knew what I was thinking or how he was affecting me. Knowing him he probably had already laid the groundwork for the perfect game plan. He always found a way to get me dancing in the palm of his hand.

“So what do you want to do now?” His question had me confused. It also came right after I had stuffed a big mouthful of McMuffin into my mouth.

“I thought you’d just pulled an all-nighter. Shouldn’t you be heading home to rest?” My words were muffled as I tried to swallow my food and talk at the same time. I probably looked like a hamster, my lack of manners and decorum didn’t faze him at all he simply listened to my garbled gibberish with a soft smile on his face. Ok, that look should be illegal.

“I was but seeing you made me feel much more energised. I’m not so old that one late night is going to stop me from seeing the woman I love. It’s up to you though, I know what I’d prefer.” He was so calm and easy-going. It reminded me that this mature sexy guy was like the smooth jazz music at our favourite bar.

He always did this. No matter what he always said something that was intrinsically tempting in a way you couldn’t possibly refuse then asks what you want to do. It still catches me off guard at times but I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Then will you come shopping with me?” I hadn’t planned on seeing him today so the fact I was right now made me unbelievably happy. It didn’t, however, change the reason behind my leaving my apartment.

“Shopping?” My rather boring request had him look at me in slight wonder. I don’t know if he thought I had offered up something mundane because I was concerned for his exhaustion or what.

“Sorry is that weird?” I cast my eyes down looking at the last bite of my breakfast in my hands shyly.

“No, not at all. What are we shopping for?”

“I…” I fidgeted in my seat. At work, I was organised and usually even at home I was as well. However, being as busy as I had recently meant I had let so many things slide in my personal life that I was getting embarrassed thinking about it all. “I haven’t been home much so I didn’t have any groceries.”

“Well, we can’t have that. If we’re buying food can I make some requests?” Shunichiro didn’t laugh at me or look like he was harshly judging me. I finally look up at him, his face looking a little boyish. I loved that look of innocence on him too.

“Of course!”

After finishing our food, we headed over to one of the larger stores because it had a slightly bigger variety of items.

“So, what do you want to request?” I ask as I pick up a shopping basket from the stack.

“Well lately I’ve been really craving your cooking I would say anything you make is fine but…” Shunichiro trails off looking at the displays. It made me smile thinking this is the first time in a while either of us had been food shopping.

“You want me to make chicken nuggets don’t you?” I end up giggling which earns me a raised eyebrow from him.

“You know me so well.”

“Naturally I am your girlfriend after all.” The words came naturally but with an instant hit of embarrassment. To hide my fluster, I looked away from him as I marched towards the shelves. “I’ll just go find the seasonings you go get the chicken.”

“Anything else?” He was hot on my heels making me little thankful for being able to stay ahead of him.

“Whatever you see you might want to eat.” I stopped in front of the seasoning looking over the array of choices and as I raised my hand to pick one up, I found myself covered from behind. “Shun?”

“In that case do I really have to go over there? I can’t think of anything but how great you would taste right now.” Shunichiro’s low voice and hot breath brushed against my ear as he pressed himself against my back. His hand was on top of my outstretched one, nimble fingers tracing my own while he used his thumb to rub the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.

“Shun… we’re in the middle of a store.” I closed my eyes wanting so badly for time to stop or for our location to just magically change. He placed his other hand on my hip sliding towards the wrapped fabric of my waist. His fingers delved into the gap they found and traced over the naked flesh beneath.

“Mmm, pity.” He hummed before removing himself and gracefully swiped the basket from my hand as if nothing had happened at all. “I’ll go get the chicken then.”

“You’re a damn tease, Shunichiro.” I muttered as I finished finding the seasonings and made a move for some frozen items next. With any luck, the freezers might help me cool down.

It was almost a mad dash to get home. I wanted to say it was because of the risk of food spoiling but to be honest that was the last thing on either of our minds.

Our little flirtations had persisted around the entire store, and when I say our flirtations, I mean Shunichiro’s. By the time we were at the checkout, I was trembling so much from his persistent teases that I couldn’t locate my card in my purse easily.

Not wishing to waste valuable time, Shunichiro produced his card and paid for the whole lot. He even picked up all the bags and began walking before I could protest. As we left, I caught one person saying “…such a gentleman.” Oh if only you knew.

Once inside he walked right into my small kitchen and opened the door to the fridge, not caring one bit about unpacking. I watched in shock as the entire bags, including their contents, were unceremoniously wedged inside.

“You know that isn’t good for the food right?”

“And you know right now I couldn’t care less.” His voice was lower than I expected. It was ruff and gravelly instantly reigniting all the tingling hot spots he had kindled during our impromptu shopping date.

He closed the gap between us in the blink of an eye. The strength with which he took me in his arms knocked the air from my lungs and my ability to think right out of my body. He dipped low plying my lips open with his tongue and pushing it deep into my mouth as if he were trying to steal my ability to speak as well.

Experienced hands roamed over the top of my dress pulling on the fabric in all the right places to provide some friction of fabric on flesh, raising the temperature between us.

“Mhm!.... Ah… Shun.” I was panting as he pulled back finally allowing me a few seconds to gain some air.

“I’ve never been so bothered by work. It’s so frustrating our schedules just never match up at the minute.” Even as he spoke he was removing his own clothes. Tossing his jacket and vest behind himself in a flurry of action that had me rubbing my legs together seeing him so desperate.

“I know I felt the same.” I brought my hand up to the buttons on his shirt, slowly tracing them before popping them one by one between my fingers like I was snapping them. My eyes never left his as he unbuckled his leather belt and trousers. “Every time I felt a break in the workload You vanished under a pile of assignments.”

“Seeing you every day at work. So close…” He shuddered at my touch the fire in his eyes lit scorching hot paths through my body.

He gave an almost silent groan as he lunged at me. My back hit the kitchen table as he pinned me down on either side with his strong arms. Hovering over me I could feel the pulsating heat from his body and the weight of his raw animal magnetism that always had me coming back for more.

My legs were forced wide as he brought his leg and hip between them. Alternating rhythms resounded in my body as my heart hammered hard enough to burst and his fingers danced up my inner thigh under my dress before slipping past the fabric barrier covering me.

“Mmm, A-ah—” The pressure filling me was exquisite. I watched his arm and shoulder pump in action with his fingers buried deep inside me as he worked away at my sanity.

“I was so glad to see you today I thought the torture was over but then you had to go and do this to me.”

“Do what? I didn’t do anything?” I was seriously confused. I was focusing on him but I felt like there was something I was missing. He didn’t answer me with words instead he brought his face to my chest burying it between my breasts and pulled on the fabric of my dress with his teeth.

“Are you being coy on purpose? Where did you learn to charm a man like that?” He pulled his fingers free with a smirk watching as I writhed missing his touch while he licked them clean. The next feeling my increasingly befuddled mind registered was the complete fulfilment as we became one.

“Oh, God!” My back arched against the unforgiving table and he placed one hand on my chest pushing me back down while he moved his hips against me.

“Ngh… dammit, you are just so perfect.”

“Shu…ni…chiro…” The pop and grind that was a familiar dance to us had me seeing stars.

“I know baby, I know.” He picked up the pace our bodies becoming slick with sweat as we relentlessly hammered home our mutual desires for each other.

“You awake?”

I slowly opened my eyes finding that I was not exactly where I thought I was. Shunichiro had been sitting on my sofa having a drink. Noticing how I was now conscious he returned to my side in my small little bed.

“Mmm, yeah. Did you carry me to bed?” Clutching the covers over my chest I wriggled closer to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders placing my head on his chest in the process.

“Well I did consider leaving you on the kitchen table but I thought you might get cold.” He laughed as he teased me. I was too happily exhausted to care and gave him a pathetically weak slap on his arm. My eyes started to adjust more to being fully awake, finding my alarm clock next to the bed.

“Jeez is that the time I should start making the food.” I freed myself from his hold and had placed one foot outside of the covers only to be pulled back in. “Ah!”

“You could or we could enjoy ourselves a little more. There’s no rush, after all, we have the rest of the weekend together.” He was whispering in my ear and trailing fingers over my now naked form. The tip of his tongue drew a line down my neck to my nape where he suckled on it. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re a sneaky scoundrel.” I smiled knowing this was him. He was sneaky, tricky, devilish, conniving and god help me if I didn’t find every aspect of the man appealing.

“Correction.” He chuckled and I found myself flipped under him. “I’m your sneaky scoundrel, and you’re mine.”

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#summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge

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