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bangtansocean · 3 years ago

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Letters: Part 03

Synopsis: Good things never last long, and unfortunately, his promises were a little too good to be true.

⏤𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: taehyung x reader // slight yoongi x reader

⏤ au: [Historical Fiction, soulmates au]

⏤𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Heavy Angst, smut, fluff

⏤𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: smut continuation- mature content ahead [18+]: Love making, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, heavy angst ahead. mentions of death and life, lying, health issues.

⏤Word count: 4.7 K

Chapters: 01 l 02 l 03

click here to go back to master list

a/n: Lots of angst ahead, prepare your tissues and I apologise in advance! Thank you for reading, ceci :]

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Taehyung adjusts himself between your legs, sliding his member between your folds, collecting as much arousal as he can before slowly entering you, making you both moan in relief and pleasure.

Tae fucks you slowly and lovingly, leaving kisses everywhere on your body as he pushes himself in and out of you repeatedly. Both of you moan each other's names as he deepens his thrusts with each stroke.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He says against your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips helping him deepen the thrusts.

You can feel your third orgasm approaching as Taehyung hits your sweet spot repeatedly, his dick twitching every time your walls tighten around him involuntarily. His thrusts become sloppier but his speed increases, letting you know he is close. He slides his hand between your bodies, ghosting two fingers over your clit, making you dig your nails deeper into the skin of his shoulder which makes him moan your name as he increases the speed of his fingers against the swollen bud.

“Tae, I love you.” you moan one last time before your orgasm takes over you for the third time tonight.

Your confession makes Taehyung pull out, cumming on your folds with a loud moan as he enjoys his orgasm. He pumps his length a few times over your lips and clit, spreading his cum all over your sex with his tip, surprising you when he slams his dick back inside you as he pumps the remaining cum inside of you until he is soft, both whining at the overstimulation.

He leaves small pecks all over your face, lingering a little bit longer on your lips as you feel him soften inside you. He pulls out with a hiss due to the over sensitivity, and manages to roll over to your side as he lays next to you, leaving a kiss on your shoulder and wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close against his chest.

“I love you.” he says for the 100th time tonight. You turn your head to find him pouting at you, waiting for you to say it back.

“I love you too.” you giggle, struggling to turn your head to kiss his lips one more time before the exhaustion takes over your body, falling asleep in Taehyung’s arms for the second time tonight.

“I love you more princess, I’ll be back, I promise.” Taehyung whispers one last time before he falls asleep too, fearing this could be the last night he ever gets to hold you.

—————————————————————

You wake up to the sound of the birds chirping, meaning sunrise is happening soon and work is starting in a few hours, which also means Taehyung is leaving soon. You try to move around when the sudden ache between your legs stops you. There’s an uncomfortable stickiness between your legs and the smell of sex that reaks from you forces you to freeze on the spot, making you remember the events of last night. You smile to yourself as you slowly roll to face Taehyung, ready to invite him to shower with you, only to find his side of the bed empty.

“Taehyung?” Panic takes over your body as you look around your room for him. You call his name repeatedly, hoping he will come out of the bathroom or answer to your desperate calling. Your tears are already streaming down before the main door of your chamber cracks open.

“Morning princess.” He stands by the door with his hair wet from the shower, wearing his new uniform and holding a tray with some fruits and tea for you. You sigh with a smile which he reciprocates, his eyes softening at the sight of your tears.

Taehyung walks towards the bed, struggling to close the door with his feet. You sit up on the bed and cover your body with your sheets, drying your tears quickly and tapping Taehyung’s side of the bed inviting him to join you. He shakes his head, letting you know he is not joining you in bed, which makes sense since he is already changed and showered, and the bed, well, the bed is not in the best conditions. He lays the tray in front of you as he carefully kneels on the bed, reaching to connect his lips with yours. You look at him dumbfounded, rejecting his kiss with a frown. He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you in confusion. Did you really just reject his kiss?

“I’m stinky and sticky all over, I haven’t even brushed my teeth” you say with disgust. Your frown makes him laugh as he leans forward to kiss you again, leaving a sweet peck over your pouty lips.

“Yeah and who’s fault is that? Me.” he laughs as he kisses you again, his eyes shining with a very peculiar glisten. “I still think you’re the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world, stinky and all that” you laugh against his lips as he leaves one last peck before he dramatically sniffs you and fakes a gag, making you both burst in laughter. “Eat up and go shower. I’ll change the sheets for you “ he says as he caresses your cheek. You look at him hesitantly before nodding. He hands you the tea he made for you and with a quiet thank you you begin to enjoy your breakfast with the best company. You finish your breakfast quickly, and make your way straight into the shower.

“I’ll be right back” you sing as you grab the bathroom’s door handle.

“I love you” You hear Taehyung say, freezin on the spot. You turn around and smile at him, his eyes looking like he’s about to cry.

“I love you too.” You say quietly, your eyes getting teary once again. He walks to where you are standing and wraps his hands around your waist, leaning in to leave a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you more.” He replies in a low tone, “Go shower, I’ll change the sheets now.” he says as he connects his lips to your forehead, slowly letting go of your body as you turn around again and walk into the bathroom. Hearing him walk back to the bed and take the sheets off.

You hop into the shower and take your time washing yourself, the hot water against your skin easing your muscle pain. You hear the main door shut, and you call for Taehyung as you close the faucet, meeting a dead silence from the other side of the door. You call his name; still no answer. You get out of the shower and wrap yourself in your towel quickly, your shaky hands reach for the handle as you burst the door open.

“Taehyung? Where did you go?” you call for him, your voice trembling as you notice your bed is perfectly made with a fresh set of sheets, a small bouquet of daisies placed in the middle of the bed. You walk towards the bouquet and lean in to see a little note attached to it. You slowly pick up the bouquet and detach the note, quickly recognising Taehyung’s beautiful handwriting:

I’m not strong enough to say goodbye, please forgive me for parting this way.

I love you.

Eternally yours, Taehyung.

The small note falls from your hands as it slowly sways its way to the floor. One hand on your chest, and the other one over your lips to muffle your sobs, tears streaming down at an unstoppable pace. You can feel a stabbing pain in your heart, and the temperature of your body drops. Suddenly the room is spinning, and your vision is blurry.

This can’t be happening.

You can hear someone calling your name, but the ringing in your head overpowers the familiar voice. Not being able to bring yourself out of your state of shock, you’re sobbing uncontrollably as your knees make contact with the cold ground, collapsing on the floor.

He is gone.

“y/n? Hey, can you hear me?, y/n please” the sound of the masculine voice now sounds closer as he slowly approaches you while you sob desperately. A warm body drops to the floor with you, strong arms quickly make their way around you, holding you close as you cry helplessly. “I’m so sorry y/n. I was looking for you everywhere when the troops were being dismissed, I thought-” His voice cracks as he now is crying, too. “I’m so sorry y/n, please don’t cry.” Yoongi’s voice starts to fade away as you feel your surroundings closing in, the last thing you remember is Yoongi calling for the nurse, after that, everything went black.

—————————————————————

It's been two years.

Two years since Taehyung left without saying goodbye, two years since you’ve heard from him. You won’t lie and say you weren’t miserable for most of the time, but surprisingly things are not as bad as you thought they would be.

Yoongi has been by your side ever since Taehyung parted and has become your most reliable friend. You can remember waking up in the infirmary room with him by your side, holding your hand as he prayed you were fine after fainting on the bedroom floor. His faint voice was always present in your subconscious, always there reading you a book, or singing you a lullaby. You remember he cried when you woke up, and he held you close as you both grieved the parting of each other’s soulmates. Yours being Taehyung, and Yoongi’s being his childhood best friend Hoseok. And a few hours after you got discharged from the infirmary room, Yoongi made it his personal mission to take care of you until you got better again.

He fed you, sang you to sleep and even helped you wash and change from your clothes on the days when you couldn’t manage to get out of bed, crying until you fell asleep in the prince’s arms. He would read you books everynight, and bring all sorts of activities for you two to do together: cross stitching, painting, puzzles, you name it. He made sure to keep you happy and distracted, helping you heal a lot faster than you thought you could. You were very thankful for him. His patience and love have been crucial to your health and really helped you to move on from the pain, that is, for the first few months. Because even if you felt like things were slowly getting better, it didn’t take long for your world to come crashing down again.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay,” Yooongi’s voice comforts you as he rubs your back gently, the scene feeling a oddly familiar to you.

The white walls of the infirmary overwhelm you, the intense smell of sterilizing alcohol, blood, and medicine makes your stomach sick, the nausea taking over you as you are holding the bucket in front of you for dear life. Throwing up has to be one of the worst things in life, you frown at the smell coming out of the dirty bucket.

“Oh my God, please take this away from me.” You shove the bucket towards Yoongi as he calls a nurse to have it cleaned out for you, his hand never leaving your back as he caresses you gently, hoping to provide some comfort to your paranoid and sick self.

“Can we leave? This is so unnecessary.” You complain again, too anxious to care about your rude tone, “I fucking hate this place.” Your eyes get teary as you turn to look at Yoongi’s soft eyes, a pitiful look on his face.

“Let’s just wait for the results, once we know it's nothing serious we can move you to my chambers and we can have a private nurse attending you until you’re fully recovered.” His words comfort you as you nod in agreement, silently hoping you can be out of this place as soon as possible before you empty your stomach into that bucket again.

“You don’t have to, you know, move me to your chambers, I can just go to mine…” you reply shyly, growing embarrassed at the thought of invading the prince’s private space any longer. “You have been so kind to me, giving me your bed for almost three months ever since… you know” the lump in your throat stops you from finishing your sentence. Yoongi smiles at you as he noods, understanding your concern. He takes his hand towards your face, gently brushing his thumb on your cheek.

“I know, and I understand you must feel like you are ‘invading my privacy’.” he whispers to you, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way, I want you safe, and I want you to be okay. I know that room makes you cry, and it holds many memories that make you…” he is careful with his words, not wanting to offend you or trigger your sadness. “What I’m trying to say is, I will sleep on my couch until I know you’re okay, no matter how long it takes, you’re all I care about.” He is now closer to you, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips.

You don’t realise you have started to cry at his gentle and caring words, your hand now finding his as you squeeze his hand gently, thanking him in silence for everything he has done.

“Your majesty, a word?” The head nurse politely bows as she waits for the prince to follow her to her desk which is just a few steps away from you, yet far enough for you to not be able to hear their conversation.

Yoongi leans forward, leaving a sweet kiss on your cheek that makes the nurse shift in her place nervously, not knowing how to proceed with the situation. She bows to you as she turns to her desk, Yoongi following her with quick steps.

The head nurse talks at a rapid pace, unable to read her lips and understand what was happening, her anxious expression making you nervous. It wasn’t until Yoongi turned around with a horrified look, his face now pale and his lips trembling, that you realised things were worse than what you expected them to be.

—————————————————————

“Yoongi, please tell me you are joking.” Your words are desperate and panicked. You are now sitting in Yoongi’s bed, the way from the nursery to the prince’s chambers being the longest 5 minutes of your life. You fix your hair with your shaking hands as you stare at him with worried eyes, hoping he would start laughing and end this torturous moment. This can’t be happening right now.

“I would never joke with something like this y/n, the nurse confirmed it already.” He sighs once again, “You are 3 months pregnant… and they think it’s mine.” He says, his words hitting you like a stab to the heart.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” your cry into your hands as you sob violently. This is not how things were supposed to be, this can’t be true.

He slowly slides into bed with you, his arms embracing you as his hand makes comforting patterns against your back. “Shhh, It’s okay. You’re alright, everything is going to be fine.” he coos you as you try to control your breathing and come back to your senses. “We’ll figure this out together.” He whispers against your hair.

“Yoongi, I really appreciate you’re trying to help but I can’t let you get involved in this. It’s too risky.” your voice cracks a little in the attempts of sounding strong and confident. He chuckles lightly at your statement, before he lets go of you and looks you in the eyes.

“As much as you want to handle this yourself, it’s going to be a little harder than that, love.” He says as he reaches for your hands, interlocking your fingers. “We’ve been sleeping in the room for the past 3 months, and everyone in the castle thinks we are already messing around.” He sighs, closing his eyes for a second before he shakes his head and looks back at you. “The second you try to leave this castle with a child that could potentially be the next king’s heir your neck is on the line, and the baby’s too.” He reaches to your cheek, wiping the tears from your eyes as he sighs again, “And I can’t lose you, y/n. As selfish as it sounds, I can’t let you go and grow this child by yourself with the entire kingdom turning their backs to you. You can’t leave the castle like this.” He finishes as he swallows, the idea of you being in danger because of this child makes him dizzy.

“But if I stay, Yoongi, they’ll think the child is yours. Do you know how bad that can be for you? To have people think the next King’s heir is a bastard, with a castle employee?” Your lips tremble as you try to hold it together, not wanting to show Yoongi how much this situation is hurting you. He huffs with an annoyed smile on his face. You both stay in silence for a while, trying to come up with a solution to the situation.

“Marry me then.” Yoongi’s voice startles you. It takes you a second before you can process the words that just came out of his mouth. “Let’s get married before we announce your pregnancy, I can claim the child as mine, and you can stay in the castle as my wife.”

“Yoongi you are talking nonsense why-” Your words are quick and mushed together, not understanding the logic behind his words. “Why would you want to claim a child that is not yours?”

“Even if we say it's not mine, they won’t believe you.” He says now with pain in his tone. “You’ve been sleeping in my bed for 3 months, and everyone in the castle has seen us together ever since the troops left. All factors point against our favour y/n. Claiming the child could save your life, and the child’s, without having to send you away from the castle.” You’re now crying against Yoongi’s chest. Everything is happening too fast, too soon.

And Yoongi was right. Even if his plan seemed odd, you couldn’t find another way out of the situation without putting the life of your child in danger, or Yoongi’s reputation on the line. So you made your mind up and agreed to marry him, having the ceremony right after he proposed to you in a formal dinner where his father had made public your relationship to the entire castle and kingdom. It wasn’t until a few months later that your belly started to show, and before people could start being suspicious about such a sudden pregnancy, Yoongi made sure to speak loud enough around the cleaning ladies about trying for a child and wanting an heir as soon as possible. It didn't take long for the rumours to spread, and soon enough the entire kingdom was celebrating the birth of the next prince.

The sudden warmth of a body embraces you, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Y/n? baby, what’s wrong? Is everything alright ?” Yoongi suddenly bombards you with questions as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, not being able to answer verbally yet, scared your voice could crack, but slowly nodding with a hum, letting him know that you were okay.

“We need to get moving, birthday lunch starts in a few minutes.” Yoongi whispers before he kisses your forehead. “I’ll get the bath running for you.” He leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek before he leaves the bed, walking into the bathroom as you decide to take a quick walk down the hall to check if your baby is still asleep in his room.

You stroll down the hall thinking about how different your life came around. Laughing to yourself before you bump against an old friend who smiles brightly at you, excited to see him after all this time.

“Jimin! You’re back?!” You hug the small blonde as he giggles in your embrace, his hands reaching for your back as he squeezes you with the same excitement.

“Home sweet home! I arrived last night at the castle, I hear a lot has changed since.” He lets go of you so he can scan you cautiously, nodding to himself. “Yeap, you definitely look like a princess now, who would’ve thought our young handsome king would capture your heart!” He giggles again before he realises what he just said, growing ashamed. You watch his facial expressions change in a frown, before he bows to you, his lips shaking in doubt before he talks again. “ I-I actually came looking for you, your majesty.” He clears his throat as he reaches for his pocket, his shaky hands pulling a folded dirty paper from his pockets. “ I promised Taehyung I would give you this when I came back.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name, feeling your soul leave your body as you blink repedently, trying to stay calm. “Oh, Okay… Thank you?” you say with a questioning tone, scared to ask the same question Jimin is hoping to avoid. “And where is he?... Taehyung?” You cough as Jimin awkwardly shifts in his place.

“Y/n… He-” You feel him hesitate, his eyes filling up with tears as he takes a deep breath. “He got injured during one of the riots and … the nurses tried everything they could” Jimin is rushing his words, circling around the topic before his voice cracks. “Taehyung didn’t make it.” He looks down as he dries his tears, scared to look up and see your reaction to the terrible news. “The last thing he told me was to make sure you got his letter, he wrote it while trying to recover.”

He didn’t make it. Those four words keep playing in your head.

He didn’t make it.

“Whe-when did he um… die?” You ask, the lump in your throat making it almost impossible for you to talk. Jimin shifts in his place again, dreading the situation.

“He died 3 months after we left.” You feel your knees weakening at his words. “We weren’t able to contact the King to let him know we had lost our commander, so I had to take over until we were able to come back, which was last night.” He looks up to meet your teary face, surprised to see you are not as affected as he thought you would be.

You had made peace with the idea before, and when Jimin delivered you the news, it did hurt, but it didn’t surprise you as much as you thought it would.

You had a feeling something had happened to him, and right after discovering you were pregnant, you didn’t have time to wonder much about his whereabouts. All you could do was think about your child, and do the best you could for your baby. You thought that after so many years of not hearing from Taehyung he must have moved on from you, or lost his life along the way, but you never expected to receive another letter from him. Much less after knowing he was gone, and that his last words are plastered in this letter. The letter that Jimin was handing to you right now.

You take the dainty piece of paper back from Jimin’s hands as you let out a disappointed sight. At least he is in a better place now, you try to convince yourself.

“Mommy!” The loud voice of your child makes you look behind Jimin, the little toddler running towards you as kneel down, receiving your child with a big hug.

“There’s my birthday boy! Are you ready to celebrate tonight?” you ask him in a sweet voice, moving his black curls from his eyes and tugging the strands behind his ear.

“Yes mommy, I’m two!” he giggles as he mimics your actions, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Hi there little prince” Jimin’s voice startles you both. You look up to find Jimin smiling at the child, his smile fading as soon as your child smiles back, his boxy smile feeling oddly familiar to Jimin. He stares at you with questioning eyes, worry and guilt reflecting on your eyes as he stares at you, perplexed at the oddly similar features this child shares with his long lost friend.

“I’m not a little prince!” He laughs as he releases himself from your arms, extending a hand to Jimin as he grins proudly at your friend. “I’m Taetae.” Jimin's jaw drops to the floor as he stares at you with disbelief, what the hell is going on, he thinks to himself.

“Nice to meet you” he bows. “If you excuse me , I-I’m sorry I-... have to go” He bows before he turns around quickly, ready to walk away from the disturbing scene in front of him before you call out his name.

“Jimin.” You pray he turns around and listens to what you have to say, which thankfully, he does. “I can explain-” you can feel your eyes burning and your throat closing, Jimin’s eyes softening at your scared expression. He walks towards you and embraces you into a gentle comforting hug.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, I can imagine how hard this must have been for you.” He whispers as he gently pats your hair. “I’m so sorry” He says now before you let out a sob against his shoulder. “Does um, Yoongi know?” you nod against his shoulder and Jimin sighs in relief, Thank heavens Yoongi is behind this, Jimin doesn’t even want to imagine how bad it would’ve been if he didn’t know that child was not his.

“Mommy? Why are you crying?” The voice of little Tae breaks you and Jimin apart, as you quickly dry your tears and kneel back down to face him.

“Mommy is just happy to see her old friend, baby.” you ruffle his hair, making him giggle. “Why don’t you go into the room and find your dad? I heard he is running a bubble bath as we speak!” His eyes shine at your words, quickly jumping out of your lap as he runs towards your room, calling for his dad repeatedly before you hear Yoongi’s laughter bursting from behind the door.

Jimin turns to look at you once again, his eyes filled with worry. “Has no one suspected anything yet?” You shake your head, answering the question that was messing with his head. He sighs in relief as he places his hand over his heart “Okay, that’s good.”

You walk together towards the small bench at the end of the hall, taking deep breaths as Jimin hesitates to speak.

“Are you going to read it?” Jimin asks, pointing at the paper that is placed perfectly between two fingers.

“I’m scared.” you confess to him, not trusting yourself to be able to be strong enough to read it without feeling like you're dying inside. Jimin places a hand over yours as he sighs, understanding how you are feeling.

“If you don't want to be alone, I’m here.” He reassures you as you stare at the piece of paper that's dangling from your fingertips. You sigh as you open the envelope carefully, unfolding the paper and taking a deep breath before you catch a glance of the last words of the letter, already feeling your tears building up as you remember all the times he wrote letters to you, always ending the exact same.

“....With love, Taehyung.”

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a/n: Thank you so much for reading letters! II hope you didn’t cry as much as I did writing it! I’m thinking about making an extra ‘chapter’ where I include the letter Taehyung wrote before he died. Let me know if you guys would be down to read it so I can work on it and upload it soon! Please don’t hate me too much, happy reading, Ceci x

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung #taehyung x reader #historical fanfiction #taehyung smut #taehyung angst

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subbing-for-clones · 4 years ago

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She Who Walks the Line Between Part 4

Maul x GreyJedi!Reader

Word Count: 3103

WARNINGS: Child abuse, night terrors, fluff

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Six weeks had passed since your ship went down and Maul 'rescued' you. Thanking him with a kiss to his cheek that neither of you mentioned after that night. Since he was rebuilding muscle that used to be there rather than starting from scratch, he built himself back up fairly quickly. Especially because you were constantly nagging at him to eat if he didn’t take the initiative to do it himself at least three times a day. His face was fuller and his arms and chest much more prominent under his trademark deep v tunics. His thighs were also thickening up quite nicely you thought often to yourself. His eyes still glowed gold but it was a honeyed glow like a sunset, so much softer than they once were. No longer bloodshot and raging.

Some days he would push his progress much too far and require soaking in an unbelievably hot bath. You would’ve been almost frightened if he hadn’t told you his core temperature was much higher than yours. You always offered massages to which he would try to turn down but you never really let him refuse. You could tell he wanted them. His entire demeanor would change if you only brushed against him let alone actually dedicated time to rubbing the strain from his muscles. Whatever horrors he dealt with as apprentice to a Sith Lord he had no comfort to turn to before, that much was apparent. Followed by a decade of forced solitude, you always made him melt with ease.

He was a worthy sparring partner to say the least. Despite having new legs, he was incredibly nimble. His muscle memory was powerful at worst, awe striking at best, but he was still easily flustered which was his downfall. Every. Single. Time. Just recently you dodged a swing of his crimson Saber by dropping into a split and throwing your head backwards. The sight of it caused him to lose his footing. One of the goats bleated at him like she was laughing which of course sent you into a giggle fit of your own as you stood back up to your feet clutching your sides.

Today you two would be doing something different though, assuming he would accompany you, which was a safe assumption. The two of you sat at your small table by the kitchen drinking caf, Maul was eating waffles you had freshly cooked while you flipped through an encyclopedia you yourself had written on the planet.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, trying to see what you were reading from the other side of the table.

Leaning back in your chair you took a long drink of your caf, finishing the mug with a sigh. "Well, there's a particular ocean species that lives here that migrate through this side of the planet once every few years. If I remember right, because I can't find my notes..." You stood and walked to refill your cup. "If I remember correctly, they should be passing right by us today or tomorrow or… sometime soon. Honestly I don’t know why I write anything down if I can’t look back on it when I need it.”

Maul suppressed a smirk. He had come to realize that with all your brilliance and various talents you could be unorganized and forgetful. Just the other day he caught you frantically looking for a seventh goat, having to remind you that you only had six. Six goats, seven chickens, one rooster.

Still wearing your dangerously short sleeping shorts and with your back to him, Maul had a moment to admire your legs without threat of you noticing. "What creature is it?" He asked while eyeing a scar on your inner thigh he hadn't noticed before following the curve of your backside.

"Well, they don't have a name, from what I know anyway but they look a lot like the Purgill that live in space. Not nearly as big cause, you know, space is a lot bigger than the ocean here." You stirred cream into your brew and sat back down crossing your legs.

Now he leaned back in his chair, shoulders shaking lightly with a silent chuckle, “you know I did know space was bigger than the ocean here.”

You playfully pointed your spoon at him in a mock warning before smiling and continuing.

"I'm gonna go down to the beach and see if I can find them. They're one of my favorites on this planet. We're nearing the mating and migration time of a few species actually so wildlife is gonna be more apparent around here."

"I'll have to flip through that book of yours and study up." He smiled at you.

"Well you're lucky you have someone like me who knows this planet pretty damn well. Even if I can’t find my notes." You flashed him a returning smile and stood. Your hand ran over his scalp affectionately as you made your way to your room to get dressed for your adventure.

~~~~~

Maker, did she realize exactly what she did to him he wondered. He swore he could still feel her touch after she had left. He was indeed lucky to have her, not just for her knowledge of this strange world. A now familiar knot grew in his belly once again, the same one that never failed to show up when she touched him. He wasn't sure what it was.

He stood and cleared the table, washing the dishes from their breakfast in the sink. The first time he did this she had actually flustered almost embarrassed 'thank yous' saying she had meant to do them herself. Since that moment he made it his job. After all she did everything else for him. He ran fingers over his hearts down to his belly and gripped where the invisible knot formed. Most of her books were educational, breeching just about every topic at least fundamentally. She did however have a small collection of fiction. One of which he had read that held a romantic theme. Was this what love felt like? Happiness? Is this what Lord Sidious had kept from him his entire life? Or was it simply admiration?

Not ever having felt anything like it before he couldn't say but one thing he did know for a fact. He hoped against all hope that in a way he'd never 'fully recover' fearing once the scale she talked about was perfectly balanced again she'd send him away and continue her life of solitude. She had sought this out. She had chosen this life. This planet, purposefully unpopulated with sentient life. As far as he knew and saw she was the only person here.

His brows furrowed and as if she could sense his distraught increasing, he heard her call to him. "Darling," she mewled just loud enough for him to hear. Possibly too quick he made his way to the door of the fresher where he heard the water running. Darling he thought, he had never heard her call him that before, he was sure.

"There’s a pack hanging from the door, could you fill it with snacks for us? It'll probably be a while on the cliffs." He silently carried out her will, obsessing over the name she had called out from the shower. Thoughts of her naked body dripping with warm water, calling out to him filled his mind. He had to physically shake his head to focus. Just as he finished packing the last Meiloorun she entered the room wearing her usual training garb, barefooted as usual when she dressed in it.

He watched as she added her encyclopedia and another small notebook to the pack along with a pair of electrobinoculars and a blanket. Swinging it over her shoulder she beamed at him obviously excited to see this strange creature.

Once they were out the door she started sprinting calling out "race you!" Maul smiled and gave her a few more seconds head start greedily watching how her body moved so gracefully before taking off after her. Allowing himself to fall into the role of a hunter once again. This however being the only prey he ever really wanted to catch. This was his element. This is where he was most comfortable, chasing, hunting. His legs propelled him forward while his arms pumped at his sides, feeling the wind push him onward towards his goal. It was a long race but her speed never let up, she was incredibly fast but not so fast that she could escape him. Just before she reached the cliff's edge preparing to jump, he darted in front of her and caught her in his arms, spinning from the velocity alone. His arms latched tightly around her waist and hers wrapped around his neck pulling his face to that sweet spot just below her ear.

They sat like that for what felt like only a second but also an eternity before a shaking hum rang through the air. Remembering what she had come for she pulled away excitedly.

"I thought we would be early but maker we made it just in time!" He released her and she jumped off the cliff, falling 200 feet before using the force to slow her fall lowering her safely to the sand below. Maul followed suit and met her where she stood, her toes wet with the tide rolling in over the sand before pulling back out to sea. Salt was heavy in the air but he could still smell her. Making her way back to the rock and clay cliffs she laid out the blanket and took a seat, spreading out her books and setting the food to the side. He joined her, sitting where he hoped wouldn't be too close.

Before his mind could roam too far, she gasped and pointed to the sea clutching his arm in excitement. Breaching out of the depths a giant creature almost took flight but just for a moment, calling out in a singing hum. They had massive heads and rounded teeth with four tentacles that trailed behind them. They were all painted in the same deep blue but had uniquely shaped and colored markings. Unlike their space brethren they didn't have bioluminescent streaks on the inside of their tentacles.

Maul watched in amazement as the creatures sang to one another, jumping and diving back down below like they were dancing for Y/N and his eyes alone. Looking through her electrobinoculars with one hand and sketching furiously with the other in the smaller of the two notebooks, never taking her eyes off of the Sea Purgill, she was entranced.

"Have you ever seen such a beautiful, mysterious creature," she inquired utterly enthralled.

Now he was watching her, smile plastered on her face, cheeks rosy with excitement and salt flecks sticking to her hair. "I can honestly say no, I have not in all my life witnessed such a beauty." She closed her notebook and put away the electrobinoculars, pivoting her head to look into his eyes again; softer than she had ever seen them.

She scooted closer to him so their hips touched and leaned her head against his shoulder. Cautiously, he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her closer and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Together they sat like this for hours, not moving, not speaking, simply watching the mighty creatures frolic through the waves on ahead.

~~~~~

You didn't want to move from this spot. He hadn't touched you since he pulled you from your crashed shuttle yet you found every excuse to make fleeting contact with him. Now, with his strong arm wrapped around you, hand gripping your waist, your head nestled into his chest you could hear his tandem hearts beating. Beating hard, it both soothed and excited you. Falling for this tattooed warrior was not on your original agenda. Falling for anyone at all was never something you craved or saw yourself doing. Not because of the same reasoning as the Jedi you had tutored under. No, you didn’t fear attachment. It had always just looked like a distraction or a nuisance.

Yet you found yourself falling for him nonetheless. Selfishly you had hoped that the scales would never again be balanced because once they do, once he is completely and utterly healed... he would leave. Wouldn't he? Why would he want to stay here on this unpopulated world with you and you alone? He had been forced into his solitude while you had searched for yours. You no longer craved silence; no longer did you wish for the seclusion of this lovely planet. All you wanted was to listen to the velvety melody of his voice, to feel the almost impossible heat he radiated.

If you asked him to stay, would he? If he would ask you to leave with him, would you? You didn’t think you could leave. Not with the war raging across the galaxy. This was the only place where you couldn’t hear every scream of every person torn from life by mindless violence that wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place. Feel every tear through the fabric of the force every time a Jedi either fell to the dark side or was killed. You can’t leave, and if you can’t leave for him; how could you ask him to stay for you?

The sun was starting to set and the creatures' appearances became less frequent. A realization dawned on you. Sensing your change Maul lifted his head to look at you, brows furrowed.

"The night of every migration a storm follows these beings. We should head back, whether it's rain or snow or wind it will be brought down on us soon." You watched him stand and extend a hand to you, taking it, he pulled you into a tight embrace. Both arms around you securely he whispered a thank you, lips just brushing against your ear. You didn't ask him what he was thanking you for, simply returning the hug with an equal fervor.

The two of you quickly packed up, leaping up the cliffs and making your way back home. Just as the cottage was in your eyeline the dark sky opened. Temperatures plummeting, snow fell from the heavens with a savage determination. Running now, you locked your animals in the barn and cranked up the heat. Power was hard to come by here with only the infrastructure that you had installed yourself, allowing only one heater for your homestead. Giving it to the animals was an easy decision.

Maul took your hand and ushered you inside, 6 inches had already stuck to the ground and your exposed skin was cold to the touch. Your bare feet no exception. He lit the hearth himself to take the chill off the room and wrapped you in a warm blanket. Before you could even think to ask, he brought you a hot cup of your favorite tea. He glowered over the fact that you still shivered.

He took your blanket and gathered you up into his arms, draping the blanket around the both of you. Holding your freezing feet in his hand. The heat he put off was almost burning against your form but you were more than grateful, sinking into him. You both fell asleep in each other’s arms but the dreams you had that night weren't your own.

A darkly hooded figure stood tall above a scarlet whimpering child. Tears streaked the red and black face of the young boy until the figure spoke. "Did I say you could eat yet?" He asked calmly but with venom in his tone. "N-no master I'm sorry I'm just... so hungr..." the boy was cut off when bolts of electricity shot out of his master and punished the boy. He screamed in agony, his cells burning. "YOU WILL NOT TAKE FROM ME APPRENTICE!" eating in front of the starving boy he screamed and continued to shock him. "YOU WILL KILL AND EAT WHAT YOU ARE HUNGRY FOR!" The boy still screaming managed to reply. "Yes master... I'm sorry master... Forgive me... PLEASE." He begged. He was attacked until his body started smoking "WHAT ARE YOU!" His master demanded as he finally released the child. The boy's claws dug into his forehead until he bled, sobbing. "I said WHAT ARE YOU?" his master demanded, shocking him again.

"I AM HUNTER... I AM FEAR... I AM FILTH... I AM NOTHING!" Screaming in torment he fell over, silent. He was tossed out carelessly onto a burning terrain surrounded by fiery pits of lava.

You awoke first, tears falling from your own eyes and you looked upon the man that lay next to you. He was still asleep but he was shaking, whining, nails digging into his own arms. You took his wrists and begged him to wake up.

"Maul... Maul darling please wake up!"

His eyes shot open blown out in fear and snarling, sitting up ready to kill until he focused on you. You softly pushed him down on the couch so he rested on his back. You leaned over him, wrapping your legs around his waist and running your hands soothingly over his body. Peppering his face in kisses whispering "you are safe... you are cared for... you are my joy... you are cleansed... you are everything." Tears welled in his eyes threatening to spill over. He gripped you with bruising fingers as if you would disappear should he let go. "I have you... you're with me... he can't find you here.." you continued to sooth him between tender kisses.

He looked up at you with those shimmering gold eyes, one hand entangling in your hair, he pulled your lips onto his with a desperation. He needed proof that he was in fact awake and not in a different dream. You brushed one of your hands against his cheek and gripped the back of his head, horns between your fingers and deepened the kiss. He slightly opened his mouth in a pleasured moan; eyes rolling back. Taking it as an invitation you glided your tongue over his teeth and against the tip of his tongue which he immediately responded but not the way you expected. He broke the kiss and pulled your body even closer to his as if to turn the two of you into one. For the rest of the night, you held one another, he had never been so thankful for his night terrors.

#maul fluff #maul x reader #star wars maul #jedi knight #sith warrior #star wars #starwars au #swtcw au #star wars fluff #starwars x reader #x reader #maul x y/n #grey jedi

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jbbarnesnnoble · 4 years ago

Text

Incentive

Summary: Wanda gives you an incentive to get out of bed and eat breakfast after a mission.

Features: Smut; Mild Domme Wanda Maximoff; Cranky Bucky Barnes

Kink: Eating Out

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/Reader; Background Polyamorous!Avengers

Notes: Day Two of Kinktober! This one has more plot than smut, but there is definitely a nice bit of smut...I’m lowkey building my Polyamorous!Avengers universe this Kinktober

Word Count: 1572

The sun was over the horizon, but you were not yet vertical. No, you had no interest in joining the rest of the waking world. Your curtains were drawn shut, shrouding your room in darkness. You could hear shuffling past your door as the others went about their mornings. You could pick up the quiet murmurs of conversation between two people outside your door before the door opened. You heard Wanda speak to Steve before shutting your door behind her.

“Rise and shine, love,” you heard her say. You grumbled, pulling your blanket further over your head. You’d had a late night, getting back past three AM from a mission with Bucky and Natasha, which was exhausting in more ways than one. You loved and hated being on missions with just the two of them.

“Let me sleep, witch,” you said, your voice laced with exhaustion.

“Steve wants you to at least eat breakfast, you know how he is,” she said.

“The Captain and kindly go shove his breakfast where the sun don’t shine,” you said. You felt her sit on your bed before she gently peeled the covers back. She had flipped on the fairy lights that lined your room. You preferred the softer light of them to those of the lamps in your room, or worse, the overhead lights.

“Sweetie, you know you can’t hide away. You’ll feel better after you eat. Did you eat when you got in?” she asked, a gentle hand upon your arm, running in soothing circles. You sighed.

“No,” you said, pulling your pillow over your head. You wanted to sleep in.

“You know the rules. If you don’t eat when you get in, you’re subject to being woken up to eat,” she said as she pulled the pillow away. You hated that rule with a passion. You knew why it existed. There were far too many times where one of you would go hours without eating after a mission, getting too wrapped up in paperwork, more training, and other obligations. Or in your case, catching up on sleep.

“Are Tasha and Buck awake?” you asked.

“Steve’s gone to wake Bucky. Tasha ate before she slept,” Wanda said.

“Of course she did,” you snarked. Wanda let out a light laugh.

“If you get up and have breakfast, I’ll make it worth your while,” Wanda said, her voice dropping. You sat up a little bit at that.

“I’m listening,” you said. You may have still been worn out from the mission, but you would never turn her down unless there was a good reason beyond being stubborn about breakfast.

“If you come with me and eat breakfast like a good girl, you’ll be coming in another way,” she said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before standing up. You almost fell, tangled in your sheets scrambling out of bed to follow her.

Bucky was glaring at Steve when you entered the kitchen, arms crossed staring at the plate of eggs as if they had personally offended him. Bruce was manning the stove, placing food in containers on the counter, buffet style. Sam was sat on the couch, Clint’s legs across his lap as he munched on the last of a piece of toast.

“Morning sunshine,” Clint said from the couch. You flipped him off as you sat down next to Bucky.

“What’d Steve do this time?” you asked.

“Cold water. What about Wanda?” he asked. You smirked.

“She made some promises,” you replied. You were sure you caught him cursing Steve under his breath.

“She gets promises, I get cold water. Can Wanda wake me up next time?” Bucky asked.

“Eat when you get in from a mission and there won’t be a next time. Besides, you use promises as an excuse to stay in bed. She,” Steve said, pointing at you, “listens and gets out of bed when promises are made.”

“Her? Listen? In what universe?” Bucky asked.

“If given the right incentive…,” you said, trailing off. Steve gave you a look that had you turning to the plate Wanda placed in front of you. Your favorites covered the surface of it. You were almost certain you wouldn’t be able to finish it all.

You helped clean up once everyone was done, quietly washing the dishes with Bucky and Sam as music played in the background. By the sound of it, it was Wanda’s playlist. You slipped away to your room once the dishes were done, wanting to get a shower in. Wanda made a promise, but you weren’t sure when she’d make good on it.

You emerged from your bathroom to find Wanda waiting, dressed in only a short robe. You almost dropped your towel then and there. She had lit the candles you had around your room, the light scent of lavender filling the room. You made a note to change them out for your favored fall scents.

“Come, lay down,” Wanda said as she approached you, pulling your towel from you, leaving you nude. Your room was kept at a comfortable temperature, never too cold. Your body was reacting, both to the temperature and what was to come as you felt your nipples harden and your core dampen more than it had been in anticipation. She pulled you toward the bed, gently spinning you around before pushing you lightly to sit.

You scooted up the bed to the pillows, making sure you were situated on the towel Wanda had laid on your bed. She had laid down several large towels, which were kept at the foot of your bed in a chest that also contained your favored toys.

“So wet already, my love. Someone is eager this morning, hm?” she asked as she pulled off her robe. You took in the sight of her. You saw the harness sitting on the edge of the bed, which sent another shock of arousal through you. Oh yeah. You certainly were being rewarded today.

“Yes, Wanda please,” you said, coming out as more of a whine. She gave you a light smack on your thigh in warning.

“Patience. You’ve been so good this morning,” she said as she situated herself between your spread legs. She kissed her way up one leg, one of her favorite ways to tease you. She neared the apex and pulled away. You bit back a groan as she repeated this on the other side. Instead of pulling away a second time, she continued toward your pussy. You knew she’d ignore your clit for as long as possible. Wanda loved to draw your pleasure out.

You almost bucked up when her tongue made contact with your pussy. She was focusing her attention on your hole, pressing one finger in as she lapped at your juices. She hooked her finger, hitting your g-spot ever so slightly before adding a second finger. Her tongue moved up, closer to your clit as you let out a loud moan. You felt her smile against you as she increased the speed at which her fingers moved in and out of you before adding a third finger. The sound it made was positively dirty and you reveled in it. You were beyond soaked. Just as she was about to reach your clit, she pulled away, leaving you wanting as she withdrew her fingers as well.

She returned with a vibrator, clicking it on as she pressed it into you before returning her mouth to your pussy as she worked it in and out. You felt the pleasure peaking as she finally touched you where you wanted. Her tongue swirled around your clit as she ramped up the intensity of the vibrator, sending you crashing over the edge with a scream as stars danced in your vision.

As you came down from the high and opened your eyes, you saw Wanda looking positively wrecked, her face soaked with your release as she grinned at you, before pulling you into a messy kiss.

“Your turn,” you said breathlessly before pulling her into another kiss.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky glared at Steve when he heard your scream. He had been subjected to hearing you and Wanda for the past hour and he was far from happy about it. Not when Wanda had you crying out over and over as she pulled you over the edge again and again. The others didn’t seem bothered. They were the lucky ones. Soundproofing did nothing against the hearing of a super soldier, at least, not the soundproofing at the compound. He glanced over at Steve who was gripping his newspaper harder than one should.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“No Buck. It’s their time,” Steve said.

“Fuck it. You’re coming with me,” Bucky said before he stood up and grabbed Steve, dragging him off to his room. Natasha smirked from where she sat sipping on her coffee as Sam and Clint both handed her a $20 bill.

“I thought he’d hold out longer,” Clint grumbled.

“We all know Barnes’ libido is on a hair trigger after a mission,” Natasha said before setting her cup down and following after the pair. Clint shared a look with Sam, who just shook his head.

“We have training with the recruits. We drew the short straws. Come on Barton,” Sam said, heading toward the elevator. Clint sighed as he looked wistfully in the direction of your room and the direction the trio had disappeared in. Next time, he reasoned, before following after Sam.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #jbbkinktober2020 #wanda maximoff/reader #wanda maximoff reader insert #scarlet witch/reader #scarlet witch x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel

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reddit-tales · 5 years ago

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Some tips for buying a used car for people that know nothing about cars

I’m a mechanic/auto shop owner. I figured I’d put some stuff together for anyone interested in buying a used car but doesn’t know anything about cars. Obviously the best option is to take it to an auto shop to have it thoroughly inspected by a professional before you buy it. The key word here is BEFORE you buy it. I don’t know how many people I’ve had come to my shop for an inspection after they bought it….ugghh. The $150 or so you spend is worth not buying something that may have thousands of dollars of problems. But if that’s not an option, here are some tips to help keep you from buying a lemon:

1-Buy a cheap OBD scanner/reader. You don’t need to spend a lot, as they’ll all do what you need here. A bluetooth OBD reader and the TORQ app for you phone seems to be pretty popular/good choice. Practice using it on some cars. Some of the stuff I'm going over may seem daunting, but if you practice it on a car a few times, you'll get the hang of it, and this will all make sense. You could be saving yourself thousands in repair here, so take a few hours to practice it. It's not hard once you do. You should be able to do all of the stuff I'm going to talk about with your scanner in under 5 mins total. You don’t have to worry about reading and interpreting data. The main thing you want to do is check for codes in the engine and transmission ECUs. ECU stands for Electronic Contrul Unit. Basically, it's the computer that controls the engine or transmission. They are sometimes referred to as ECM, or Engine Control Module, and TCM, or Transmission Control Module. Sometimes they'll be referred to as PCM, or Powertrain Control Module. This is what it's called when only one computer controls both the engine and automatic transmission. The PCM may be one physical computer, but logically, it's 2 computers. So if you connect your scanner to a PCM, you'll still see two separate options, one for engine, and one for transmission. Do note that if you have a manual transmission, there won't be a transmission computer.

So when you connect to each one, there should be no codes in either. If there are codes, there’s an issue. It may be minor, it may be major. Google it if you want, but not knowing what the codes mean, your best bet is to walk away. If your scanner is a better one, you can also check other modules (computers) for codes. However, it’s pretty common on newer cars, especially European, to find obscure codes in obscure modules. Normally they’re not an issue. Focus on the Engine and Transmission. ABS (antilock brakes) and SRS (safety restrain system...airbags, seat belts, etc) modules normally shouldn’t have codes lingering either. Make sure to also check after test driving. The codes may have been reset by the seller to hide a problem (more on that in the next paragraph). They may have returned during your test drive, so check again!

Use the scanner to check the monitors on the engine ECU/Computer. Monitors are a series of self checks that the ECU does on the engine. All applicable monitors should be set (passed/complete). They get reset when you clear the check engine light, or when you disconnect the battery (usually). If all of the monitors haven’t passed, then it’s quite likely the person selling it has reset the check engine light recently (may be trying to hide a problem), or there’s a problem that isn’t allowing the monitor to complete. Not a good sign. Walk away. To complete all of the monitors can take quite a few miles and sometimes several days. So there's a good window there for you to catch someone doing some hanky panky.

2. Crank the engine without starting it. What you want to do is listen to the engine during a continuous crank. On American cars and on Mazdas, this is easy, as they have what’s known as a Clear Flood Mode. You turn the key to the on position, wait a few seconds, depress the gas pedal all the way, then try to start it. The engine will crank away without starting for as long as you hold the key (or in the case of a push button start, until you hit the button again). If the engine starts, quickly let off the gas so you don’t revv up the engine too high and try it again. You’ll want to listen to it for a good 10 seconds or so. This is a very easy way to check compression on an engine. The main thing you hear when cranking an engine is the electric starter working to try and spin the engine. As a piston comes up and compresses the air, the starter has to work harder to spin the engine, and the speed/pitch of the starter changes. Once the piston comes back down, it’s easier to spin the engine, so the speed/pitch changes back, and then repeats as each consecutive piston moves up in the compression stroke. Every engine sounds different, but they all should have a very steady rhythmic starting noise. Kind of a WAAA WAAA WAAA WAAA WAAA. If one or more of the cylinders has low compression, you will hear the starter have an off-rhythmic sound that repeats. So for instance, if you have a 4 cylinder engine with one low compression cylinder, it would sound like WAAA WAAA WA WAAA WAAA WAAA WA WAAA WAAA WAAA WA WAAA etc. Every 4th pitch change will sound different than the other 3.

For reference, here’s what a normal cranking sound should be: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6v0h_Ygqox0

Here’s what a low compression cylinder cranking sounds like. It’s at about :55 secs :https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOghpmVhVng

If you listen closely, you’ll hear the unsteady rhythm. Loss of compression is usually piston rings, valves, or head gasket. All costly. If the engine sounds funny when cranking, walk away.

If the car you’re looking at doesn’t have a clear flood mode, you can remove the fuel pump relay in the engine compartment fuse box, which turns off the fuel pump. Most cars have one, but some don’t. Some cars can be a real PITA to disable it from starting. Google the car you’re looking at with something like “YYYY Make Model clear flood” or “YYYY Make Model disable fuel pump” and see if there’s an easy way to achieve this. I'm sure there will be a Youtube video showing you exactly how to do this.

Practice this beforehand on cars you have access to if possible to tune your ear to the sound. You can also do this periodically on your own car to see if any problems are arising.

3. Check the fluids. All of the fluids will have minimum/maximum marks. If fluids are low, someone has not been maintaining the car well, or it has developed a leak. Not a good sign. When checking the engine oil, it should range from clear to black. If it looks like chocolate milkshake, there is a major problem. RUN AWAY. You can also smell the oil on the dipstick to see if it smells like gasoline. If it smells like raw gasoline, the engine is either injecting way too much fuel or you have bad piston rings. Either way they're bad. If the oil level is WAY above the full mark, like an inch or more, then either some other fluid is making it's way into the engine (very bad) or someone sucks at doing an oil change. Remember to check the oil with the engine off and on level ground. Some new cars don’t have dipsticks (mainly European). If so, you’re SOL. Check the coolant in the reservoir. It should be green, pink, red, yellow, orange, blue, or purple, depending on manufacturer. If it’s rusty, walk away. Remove the radiator cap (only if the engine is cold) and look at the cap and in the radiator. If you see any rust or chunky/gritty brown stuff, walk away. If it’s just water, walk away (be careful here, Ford’s yellow coolant almost looks clear). Check the automatic transmission fluid. For the most part, it should be red, but sometimes amber or green. It may be black. That’s dirty. Not a deal breaker, but they haven’t been keeping up on maintenance. It should not smell burnt, though. That’s bad. If it looks like strawberry milkshake, that’s really bad. Also, remember that you should check the level on automatic transmissions while the engine is running in Park and after driving it and getting the transmission good and hot. The only exception is most Hondas. That’s checked after driving but with the engine off. Google it for the car you plan on looking at to make sure. Many new cars don’t have a transmission dipsticks, so again, you’re SOL there.

4. Start the engine and listen for any noises. The engine should be cold. If it’s at operating temperature, the seller may have warmed it up to hide some cold start engine noises. Be wary. If it makes any noises, walk away.

5. Look for maintenance records. If it has consistent oil change records at an oil change place, at least they’ve been changing the oil. Unfortunately, oil change places only check easy profitable stuff. It’s better than nothing, though. If the records are all at an independent shop, that’s better. Indy’s will usually do a pretty thorough check up on the car when servicing it. If it has all dealer records, that’s the holy grail. Dealers will find any nick nack that’s wrong and upsell it. They also commonly don’t do thorough diagnostics (this is an unfortunate effect of the way dealer shops operate). So if it needed repairs, on top of having new parts that needed replacing, it may have other new parts that it didn’t even need. Plus those new parts will be good quality OEM parts, not chines junk of questionable quality.

6. Check that everything works on the car. Check the A/C, the heater, the windows, the locks, the mirrors, the head/parking/brake lights, etc. If the owner neglected to fix obvious problems, what else did they decide not to fix?

7. Look under the hood and look for any hokey work. Random zip ties holding things on, tape, broken plastic pieces, a battery that can move around if you push on it, wires hanging, etc. If it looks like unprofessional work has been done on what you can see, how bad is what you can’t see?

8. How does the car look? Is it dirty, full of scratches, stained? If the owner cares so little about the interior/exterior, they probably have the same attitude towards the mechanical part of it.

9. Check the tires. Aside from general condition, do they all match? If all the tires are different, they’re cheap/broke, and have probably cheaped out on a lot more than just tires. Lay your hand flat on the tire tread and light feel around the tires. If you feel a repeating pattern of flat spots/dips, you have suspension problems.

10. Try and stay away from used car dealers. Used car dealers get the majority of their cars from auctions. A lot of cars that go to auction are sent there by someone that doesn’t want it, usually because there are problems. Not all, but many. New car dealers send trade-ins that are too old or the wrong make to put on their lot, and some of those are decent. However, the small used car dealers usually buy the bottom of the barrel cars at auction. They’ll fix the minimum needed with the cheapest parts possible to maximize profit. They’ll make it look pretty, though. Good chance you’re buying a polished turd. Not all used car dealers are bad, though. Check reviews. Look at what they have on the lot. If they have a lot of high resale value cars on the lot, they're buying the good stuff at acution. If all of their cars are under $10k, with a lot under $5k, move on.

11. Obviously, test drive the car. Drive it at different speeds up to highway speeds. Brake easy, brake hard. Find a crappy road or railroad tracks to drive over. Make sure there are no noises or vibrations. Get it good and warm. When you’re done, open the hood and take a good whiff. Make sure there are no strong smells (like burning fluids or other things). Look under the car and see if anything is dripping or the bottom of the engine is covered in fluids (bring a flashlight, it can get dark under there). Don’t be alarmed if you see water dripping under the car at about the same area as the base of the windshield/firewall. If the A/C or defroster was on, that is just condensate from the A/C system. Touch it. If it’s not oily and looks/feels like water, it should be OK. If you’re test driving a manual car, the clutch engagement point should be somewhere in the middle of the clutch pedal travel. If it’s right at the top or right at the bottom, clutch repairs are in the near future.

12. This one is a little more advanced, but not too difficult. It’s also pretty important. You’ll need your OBD scanner. What you want to do is look at the engine data and search for the fuel trims. An engine computer injects fuel based on a bunch of sensor inputs. It has a base fuel map programmed into it that it references, based on those sensor inputs, and injects XXX amount of fuel. There is an oxygen sensor in the exhaust system that analyzes the exhaust gas and acts like a quality control inspector. It tells the computer whether it injected too much or too little fuel. The computer then makes adjustments to that base fuel map to make sure it’s injecting the proper amount of fuel. Those adjustments are called fuel trims. A 5% fuel trim would mean the computer had to add 5% more fuel than the base map. A -5% fuel trim would mean that the computer had to reduce fuel by 5% from the base fuel map. In a perfect world, fuel trims would be zero. However, that’s rarely the case. Fuel quality, different atmospheric conditions, engine wear, engine or sensor problems, etc, make it so that the base fuel map is never perfect, so the computer is always adding or subtracting fuel (usually it’s adding, but sometimes it’s subtracting). I don’t like to see a computer adding or subtracting more than 10% fuel. Any more than that and there may be a problem. Any more than 15-20% and there is definitely a problem.

So what you’re going to want to do is look at the data on the engine computer. You want to make sure you connect to the computer using the GENERIC OBD2 option on your scanner. Different car manufacturers will call these fuel trims by different names, and display the percentage in different ways. If you connect to the engine computer the standard way, you may be confused trying to find and read the fuel trims. But if you connect using the generic obd option, it’s always going to use a standardized display format across all vehicles. Some really cheap OBD scanners only connect using the generic OBD protocol. You’re going to see a long list of a bunch of different data. Scroll through until you find “short term fuel trim” and “long term fuel trim”. I'm not going to explain what the difference between those two data parameters are, as that doesn't matter here, and may end up being confusing. I'm just going to tell you what to do with the values you see.

Short term fuel trim, depending on your scanner, may be displayed as: Short term fuel trim, STFT, ST, or ST%

Long term fuel trim may be displayed as: Long Term Fuel Trim, LTFT, LT, or LT%

Let’s assume your scanner uses the more common STFT and LTFT designation. You’re going to see a number after the letters, so STFT1 and LTFT1. The number means the “bank” or side of the engine. A 4 cylinder engine only has one “side” so you’ll only see STFT1 and LTFT1. However, a V6 or V8 engine has two sides of the engine (3 or 4 cylinders on one side, and 3 or 4 cylinder on the other side, hence the V6 or V8). The computer controls fuel independently for each side of the engine, so you’ll see a STFT1 and LTFT1 for one side of the engine, and STFT2 and LTFT2 for the other side. Don’t be alarmed if you’re looking at a V6 or V8 engine and you only see STFT1 and LTFT1. Many late 90s cars and some early 2000s cars didn’t control fuel separately for each side of the engine, and lumped both sides into one bank.

When looking at the short term and long term fuel trims, you’ll notice the long term fuel trim number stays pretty steady, but the short term fuel trim number may change a lot. This is normal. What is important to note is that they are cumulative. So if STFT=4 and LTFT=3, then your total fuel trim is 7%. Let’s take a look at some examples on a V8:

STFT1 : 3 ... STFT2 : 6

LTFT1 : 2 ... LTFT2 : 1

So the total fuel trim on bank 1 is 5% (3+2) and the total fuel trim on bank 2 is 7% (6+1). Each bank is below +/- 10%. That’s pretty good.

STFT1 : -5 ... STFT2 : 3

LTFT1 : 3 ... LTFT2 : 1

Bank 1 fuel trim is -2% (-5 +3) and bank 2 is 4% (3+1). Again, that’s good.

STFT1 : 6 ... STFT2 : 7

LTFT1 : 10 ... LTFT2 :15

Bank 1 fuel trim is 16% (6+10) and bank 2 is 22% (7+15). That’s not good. Walk away from this one.

Here's one more that's a littlte different:

STFT1 : -20 ... STFT2 : -20

LTFT1 : 22 ... LTFT2 : 20

Hey, 2% and 0% total fuel trim on each bank. SWEET! this car is running almost perfect! Well not really. Why is the LTFT adding 22% but then the STFT is taking a bunch of it back? There may be an intermittent issue going on here. So add the absolute values together as well (treat -20 as 20) and see what that total is. Here we have 42 and 40. There's some interpretation required here that you'd need some experience to do, but I'd say anything over 25 when adding absolutes is cause for concern.

Check these numbers with the engine running at idle, and rev up the engine and hold it at about 2500rpms and check it there. Like I said, you may see the STFT number change pretty quickly, so just use the average of the numbers you see for that one. If you have someone with you, you can have them check the numbers while you drive as well.

Practice this on a car you have access to beforehand.

13. Last and not least, don’t trust the person selling the car. Trust your eyes, your ears, and your instinct. You don’t know this person, they may be lying about the car, or try and tell you that the thing you’re worried about is no big deal, it’s just this or that. Or they had a guy check it out and it’s a really easy/quick fix. Be patient and find the right car. If something is fishy or doesn’t seem right, move on to the next car. A car is a pretty big expense. Most people budget for the purchase price of a car and don’t consider there may be considerable extra expense in fixing major problems. Minimize the possibility of those extra expenses by inspecting the car the best you can.

I would recommend running through these things, and any others you want to add, on your current car, your parents’ cars, friends’ cars, etc. Do it several times. Get comfortable in making these checks so that when you’re doing them in front of some stranger on their car, you won’t forget anything.

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maluminspace · 5 years ago

Text

Genre: Smut/Angst/Enemies to Lovers

Pairings: Calum Hood/Luke Hemmings

Word Count: 4.5k

Requested: @iovehemmings

I just had to request some cake Hogwarts!sos cause Hogwarts!sos has been so good and I have a soft spot for my boys. So um hufflepuff!luke x slytherin!cal, both quidditch captains and don’t really get along. after a game where hufflepuff loses cal goes to the locker room to talk to luke but finds him alone in the shower jerking himself off so he offers to help and luke just ends up getting all his anger from losing the match off of him by fucking calums throat pls oh my gawd

Content: hand jobs, shower sex, blowjobs, face fucking, hate sex, masturbation, the use of degrading insults (slut), sex in a public place,

Trigger Warnings: strong language, explicit sexual content

A/N: Turns out I love writing hate sex... I hope you all enjoy this!

***

The golden snitch fluttered past Luke Hemmings’ ear, almost idly before zooming off towards the viewing stands.

The Hufflepuff seeker kept his eyes on the sneaky little ball, though, determined to catch it and win his first match as the captain of his team. He could already hear his housemates and the rest of his team cheering his name in celebration of the incredible win as he sped towards his prize.

He was so focussed on the tiny winged sphere that he’d entirely forgotten to scan the pitch to see where the other players were situated.

It was that simple mistake that led him straight into the path of one of his own beaters. By the time he noticed, neither of them had enough time to get out of each other’s way.

The inevitable collision was painful, the beater was much sturdier and more muscular than Luke so the seeker was almost knocked off his broom. Luckily, he just about managed to keep his balance. The beater muttered something that was bound to be unpleasant under his breath, but he obviously didn’t want to put his position on the team at risk by voicing it out loud. He just shook his head and sped off to intercept a bludger that had just been hurled towards one of the Hufflepuff chasers.

As soon as his head stopped spinning, Luke refocused, scanning the quidditch pitch to find the snitch again. He spotted it hovering just a little higher than it had been before he crashed into his beater. Not wanting to risk losing it, he made sure to check that his path was completely clear before immediately setting off at full speed, ignoring the pain in his shoulder caused by his previous lack of judgement.

The Hufflepuff seeker was gaining on the snitch fast, it was hovering idly, as though it was tired of evading capture, like it just wanted the game to end already. Luke could understand if that was the case. The game had been going on for well over two hours now and it seemed that everyone was silently begging for an end to come. He only hoped that he could be the one to do it. He lifted his good arm, stretching out his hand until his fingers were so close to the snitch that he could feel the constant draught of its wings. The little shit waited until that moment to zoom right past Luke’s face. He swore that he could hear the fucking thing laugh on it’s way past his ear.

“Fuck!” Luke yelled, exasperated and more than a little pissed off as he swung his broom around to chase the stupid little snitch.

The commentator's magically amplified voice was mocking Luke, laughing at his failed attempt to grab his prize. He tried to ignore it and focus on finding the snitch again, he was determined to end this damn quidditch game once and for all.

After scanning the pitch a couple more times, Luke noticed the snitch bobbing up and down near one of the Slytherin goal hoops. Once again, he was sure to check that his path to the little shit was clear before speeding off towards it. The winged ball, taunted him yet again, allowing him to get close enough to it to trick him into thinking he had a chance of catching it before it darted off once again.

This time though, the snitch didn’t manage to escape into open space. Before Luke even had time to redirect his broom, the Slytherin seeker, Calum Hood, lept forward, stretching out his large hand and closing his fingers around the golden sphere as it collided with his palm.

The crowd erupted into an equal mix of cheers and boos as the reality of the situation crashed down around Luke.

He’d just lost the game.

Calum beamed, his pearly white teeth glinting in the early afternoon sun as he brandished his prize, bracing himself for the inevitable hugs he was about to receive from his team.

Luke couldn't even bring himself to look at the rest of the Hufflepuff team in the face. He watched as they descended to the ground one by one, each of them looking more dejected than the last.

It was part of his job as captain to give his team a speech after each game. He couldn’t even begin to pull together a coherent sentence in his head, let alone an entire speech. As he slowly drifted down to the ground Luke spared one last glance at the Slytherin team, anger and resentment simmering in his chest.

Calum looked so fucking pleased with himself, his stupidly pretty brown eyes glimmering triumphantly as he basked in the praise his teammates were showering him with.

“We’ll get them next time, cap…” Odessa Grail, Hufflepuff’s keeper, smiled sadly.

Luke wasn’t in the mood for pitying gestures from the team he’d let down. He was fucking pissed off and he just wanted the opportunity to simmer in his anger for a while. He gave Odessa a half-hearted nod before storming into the changing rooms.

Luckily, the rest of the Hufflepuff team seemed to understand Luke’s need to be by himself for a bit. He allowed them all to filter into the showers whilst he pretended to search for something in his locker for much longer than necessary.

It was only when the Slytherin team bustled in, that Luke’s attention snapped back to the room. He hated them all in that moment, especially, Calum fucking Hood. He looked more handsome than ever when he was happy, his ridiculously soft, caramel coloured skin was practically glowing as he accepted every clap on the back and hi-five that his teammates offered him.

The Slytherin seeker seemed lost in the moment, smiling and offering praise to each of his players, telling them all that he wouldn’t have been able to snatch the victory if it hadn’t been for each of them.

That’s right… Luke thought bitterly. Show everyone that you’re a better captain than me as well as the superior seeker, like you’re not making me feel worthless enough already, you arrogant, over-confident fuck.

Calum chose that moment to glance up, his beautiful warm, brown eyes meeting Luke’s cold blue ones in a somewhat intense gaze that somehow lasted much longer than Luke would have liked. Yet when a couple of Calum’s fellow Slytherins bustled into the changing rooms to congratulate him on his spectacular win and distracted him, the Hufflepuff seeker was left wishing it had lasted much longer.

His confusing feelings about his Slytherin counterpart, hung over Luke like a storm cloud as he sat on his bench and rifled through his kitbag under the pretence of finding his shampoo and other toiletries. He just wanted to wait until everyone had left so that he could shower in peace and quiet.

Annoyingly, Calum’s friends long outstayed their welcome. To make things even worse, amongst them as the silly and boisterous, Michael Clifford, quite possibly Luke’s least favourite person at Hogwarts. He was loud and obnoxious and worst of all, the mouthy little shit was incredibly close to Calum, the one person that Luke wished more than anything that he didn’t have such complicated feelings for.

Even when the rest of the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams had finished showering and getting dressed, Michael and the other Slytherins still lingered on to chat all kinds of shit with Calum. Luke fought back the urge to tell them all to fuck off as he stripped down to his underwear. He was faintly aware of someone watching him as he wrapped the towel around his waist and shuffled out of his boxer shorts, but he didn’t bother to turn around to see which of the Slytherins it was. Forcing himself to ignore it all, Luke picked up his toiletries bag and headed for the shower area, purposely not sparing his rival or his entourage a single glance.

He chose the furthest cubicle from the rest of the locker room, hoping to finally get the peaceful shower he’d been waiting for. Luckily, the sound of the water thudding against the aging tiles on the floor, drowned out the annoying voices of Calum and his cronies.

Once he’d ensured that the water was the perfect temperature, Luke shed his towel, hanging it up on the wall hook outside the cubicle before stepping under the shower stream. The pounding of the warm water against his bare skin instantly started to ease the tension in his tight muscles and even the pain in his shoulder started to dull, as he tipped his head back to wet his hair. He reached out blindly for his washbag, having unzipped it before placing it on the shelf, it was easy for him to locate his shampoo bottle, which he pulled out and popped open before squeezing a generous amount into his palm and massaging it into his caramel coloured curls.

Once his hair was washed, Luke took out his shower gel and rubbed some over his body. As he allowed his mind to drift away from his humiliating defeat, his body started to react in the way it often does in a nice warm shower.

He told himself it was just a natural reaction to the feeling of the water on his skin. It was his body’s way of helping relieve his stress. The fact that Calum’s handsome face, strong arms and muscular thighs flashed through Luke’s mind as he reached down to stroke his stiffening cock, meant nothing at all. The Slytherin seeker was the last person Luke had seen before taking a shower, that’s the only reason why it was Calum’s face in his head now.

Despite the fact that part of Luke would love to think of anyone else whilst he jerked off, his desire for a quick release was stronger and he decided to just go with it, allowing his brain to churn out whatever was lurking in his mind.

Luke was so lost in the moment, focused purely on the building pleasure in the pit of his stomach as he stroked himself, that he didn’t register the approaching footsteps or the quiet knock on the door of his cubicle. All that he could hear was the rush of the water pouring over him, the pounding of blood in his ears and the soft moans and mumbled words slipping past his lips. It even took him a moment to process when the door opened, meaning that for a split second, Calum fucking Hood saw him jerking off.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” Calum gasped, although the way his eyes raked over Luke’s naked body, told the Hufflepuff that his quidditch nemesis was not at all disappointed in the sight that greeted him. “I thought I heard you call my name and you didn’t reply when I knocked, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Just fuck off!” Luke screamed, trying desperately to cover his raging boner. “I didn’t call your name.”

A slight blush rose in Calum’s cheeks as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, still allowing his eyes to roam every inch of Luke’s bare skin. “I definitely heard my name, you sounded kinda desperate, when you said it. That’s why I had to check that you weren’t in some kind of trouble.”

A stream of gibberish and nonsensical words spilled from him as he sinks back against the wall, trying to make himself as small as physically possible. It didn’t help matters when he noticed that Calum was wearing nothing but a small towel tied haphazardly around his slender waist, like it could unravel at any moment and fall to the ground.

A mischievous smirk curled the corners on Calum's lips as he noticed where Luke’s gaze was focused. “Do you mind if I lose this?” He asked, tugging at the loose knot in the towel that is the only thing keeping him covered. “I’ve seen you, so I guess it’s only fair.”

“What makes you think I want to see…” Luke trailed off as Calum dropped his towel. He’d stolen the odd glance at the Slytherin’s crotch when he wore those tight black jeans on Hogsmeade trips so he wasn’t altogether surprised by the generous size of his cock. What did shock the slightly younger boy, was the fact that Calum was half hard.

“I’ve got nothing to hide from you, Luke.” He shrugged, finally meeting the Hufflepuff’s startled gaze. “I know that you're pissed off because I beat you today, but that only makes you hotter to me.”

Processing Calum’s words didn’t come easy to Luke. He’d never once considered that the Slytherin seeker would reciprocate any of the complex feelings that Luke had for him. In fact, he’s mildly surprised that Calum even knows his name. They’d never interacted much off the quidditch pitch so it was a shock, to say the least, that Calum thought he was ‘hot’. All that Luke could do was focus on the part of the curly-haired boy’s sentence that reminded him why he could never fully fall for the gorgeous prick. “Your win today was a fluke, Hood.” He sneered. “The snitch just bumped into you. Just because you made one lucky catch, that doesn’t mean you’re a better seeker than me.”

“I think you’re exposing a little more than your cock to me right now.” Calum leered. “I’m not interested in your badly veiled insecurities, Hemmings. “All I want to know is if you want to take out your frustrations on me.”

Luke swallowed thickly, his sluggish mind struggling to catch up with the implications of Calum’s words. “What’re you talking about?”

Calum rolled his eyes, stepping into the shower cubicle and closing the door behind him. “I’m offering you the opportunity to fuck my face, Hemmings” He replied simply, gently closing his fingers around Luke’s lower arm. “I wanna know if you’ll finally admit your feelings for me after I suck all that resentment out through your cock.”

The Slytherin’s words kindled a fire inside Luke that he couldn’t even begin to try and control. He’d often imagined what Calum could do with his strong arms and sinful lips and now he finally had the opportunity to find out. “Don’t project your feelings onto me, Hood.” He warned, pushing his face closer to the older boy’s almost as though he was threatening to kiss him. It was like a test, he wanted to see if Calum was just all talk. “You’re just my competition, another bug I need to crush on my way to winning the house cup for Hufflepuff.”

A faint laugh escaped Calum but he didn’t back up, in fact he made the tiny gap between his own lips and Luke’s that little bit smaller by tilting his head slightly. It was an obvious invitation for Luke to Kiss him, one that he backed up with another carefully thought out string of words. “Bullshit, Hemmings. I see the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you. I heard the way you moaned my name just now. You want me, don’t you?”

Luke licked his lips in response, too scared to say it out loud.

“Then take me.” Calum whispered.

If he didn’t do it now, he never would and Luke knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life. He put his last lingering doubts out of his mind before pressing his lips to Calum’s. He was met with a softness he hadn’t expected. Whenever he’d imagined kissing Calum, his mind had always played out fantasies of frantic, lustful battles for dominance. It seemed that in real life, Calum was happy to let Luke take control, at least on this occasion. He wasn’t complaining though, the thought of pushing Calum to his knees made his cock throb in anticipation.

The Slytherin tasted faintly of coffee and cigarettes. Not surprising seeing as Calum always drank a large mug of coffee with breakfast, the last meal he’d had. Luke has also noticed the older boy sneak off behind the greenhouses with some of his friends before heading down to the quidditch pitch for the game. Luke knew that’s where some of his fellow students gathered to smoke.

The kiss lasted long enough to cause Luke’s lungs to burn with the need for oxygen but he was far too intoxicated by Calum to succumb to such a basic requirement. He pressed his body against the other boy, forcing him back against the wall of the cubicle and promptly pinned Calum’s wrists to it.

“Fuck, Luke…” The Slytherin gasped, finally breaking the kiss. “If you’d shown half of this passion during the game you’d have beaten my team no problem.” He goaded, clearly trying to keep the fire burning inside of Luke.

“That filthy mouth of yours is only good for one thing, Hood.” Luke growled, aiming a nip to the exposed skin of Calum’s neck. “So stop ruining this and get down on your fucking knees.”

A whimper that sounded somewhat reluctant slipped from Calum as he became pliant in Luke’s hold. “You finally want to accept my invitation, huh?”

Luke responded only by stepping back until he was pressed against the opposite wall of the shower cubicle. In his fog of lust and arousal it was hard not to appreciate how gorgeous Calum looked in that moment. His black curls are sopping wet, clinging to his forehead and cheeks like the perfect finishing touch framing the work of art that is his face. His eyes are dark with lust and lips are the absolute definition of fuckable. “Don’t make me tell you again, Hood.”

Calum seemed to enjoy being bossed around, another whimper escaping him as he dropped to his knees, placing a hand on each of Luke’s thighs to keep them apart as he positioned his head teasingly close to the Huffepuff’s achingly hard cock. “Before I do this I should make one thing clear.” Calum explained, locking eyes with Luke through the steam rising from the water still pounding relentlessly over the Slytherin’s back. “I’m the best at this. Just like I’m the best seeker. Once you’ve fucked my face, no one else's will come close to satisfying you again.”

Before Luke could respond to the taunt, Calum closed his lips around the younger boy’s tip, coaxing a sigh of pure bliss out of the Hufflepuff. It’d appear that Calum wasn’t lying, his mouth felt like heaven around Luke and he instantly craved more.

The Slytherin smiled around Luke’s dick before sinking further on to it. He made his skills immediately clear by the way he worked his tongue expertly over the pulsing vein on the underside of the blonde’s dick.

Luke’s fingers automatically found Calum’s curls, he gripped hard and pulled on them impatiently until the Slytherin used one of his strong hands to cover the little of Luke’s cock that he couldn’t fit in his mouth. “Fuck, Hood!” The Hufflepuff hissed. “Suck me off like you mean it, damn it!”

Another whine rose from Calum’s throat as he began to bob his head. He was obviously experienced at this, he knew exactly what to do and when. If Luke didn’t know better he’d have sworn the Slytherin could read his mind.

Unable to hold onto the remnants of his resentment towards his competitor when he was making him feel so fucking good, Luke gave in to the pleasure and allowed his moans to flow freely from slack lips.

He wasn't sure how long he was nothing but a whimpering mess before Calum pulled off him, tilting his head to fix Luke with a desperate glare. “Are you just gonna let me do all the work just like on the quidditch pitch?” He demanded. His voice was weak and scratchy but his pointed tone was still abundantly clear. “I told you to fuck my face you lazy Hufflepuff shit…” He groaned, “show me that I had at least one good reason to think you might worth my fucking time.”

The harsh words were all Luke needed to snap out of his daze. This was his chance to dominate his competition, sure Calum might have beaten Luke’s ass out on the quidditch pitch but the blonde was determined to be the boss here. He gripped Calum’s curls, yanking his back and pulling a moan from the older boy in the process. “What did I tell you about that mouth of yours, Slytherin?” He growled. “It hasn’t made me cum yet and it’s not worth a damn until it does.”

Savouring the look of arousal on Calum’s face, Luke thrust his cock into the Slytherin’s mouth until it hit the back of his throat. Calum gagged and tears sprung up in his eyes but he held Luke’s gaze through his thick, dark lashes as though he knew it’d bring the younger boy that much closer to his orgasm.

Without overthinking things for once, Luke obeyed Calum’s only instruction and began finding a rhythm as he fucked the Slytherin’s face.

It felt incredible. Not only was Calum’s mouth heavenly, the very notion of him on his knees taking every one of Luke’s harsh thrusts almost made him cum just at the thought. “That’s more like it, Hood, you look so much better with my cock in your mouth. Can you take more?”

Calum nodded as best he could, relaxing his throat muscles to allow Luke’s cock deeper.

The Hufflepuff didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the brave gesture, pushing his dick into the blissful tightness over and over and he held Calum’s head steady by wet curls.

Just when Luke thought it couldn’t get any better, Calum began to moan around his cock as the obscene, wet sounds of Calum jerking himself off reached his ears. He watched for a minute in wonder as the Slytherin matched his movements to the rhythm of Luke’s thrusts. As much as he enjoyed the sight he couldn’t let another opportunity to assert his authority over his competition pass. “I never gave you permission to touch yourself, greedy Slytherin slut!” The words spilled out of his mouth before his filter had a chance to kick in and check them.

The moan that tore out of Calum’s throat was so raw and needy that Luke was sure the older boy had just climaxed. A weak smirk tugged at one corner of his lips as he realised that Calum must be into that. “You liked that?” He asked, his voice so thick with lust that he could almost taste it on his tongue. “If you touch yourself again before I tell you to, I won’t cum down your throat. I want you to put on a show for me when you’ve swallowed me down, got that, slut?”

Calum nodded, once again struggling due to the cock in his mouth but he redoubled his efforts, seemingly determined to finish Luke off with his best moves. He relaxed fully, giving Luke complete control of everything except his tongue, being sure to use it perfectly every time Luke was still enough.

“Holy shit, Hood…” Luke cursed as his hips began to stutter. “You better swallow every last drop of what I’m about to give you!”

The way that Calum glanced up at Luke through his lashes again was a clear signal that he was ready to take whatever Luke could give him.

It took only three more thrusts before Luke came apart with a strangled wine, spilling down Calum’s throat before sinking back against the wall. His breath escaped him in ragged breaths as he cursed softly, equally furious and delighted by what had just happened. One the one hand, he’s just had the best blowjob of his life and dominated his quidditch rival. On the flipside, he’d just allowed his weird crush on Calum Hood to get the better of him.

As the Slytherin rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he kept eye contact with Luke, his need for a release painfully obvious by the way his hard dick brushed on the younger boy’s thigh. As much as Luke would have liked to make the curly-haired boy suffer, he knew that he couldn’t leave him like this. After all, he’s done everything Luke asked of him, the least the Hufflepuff could do was return the favour. “Now about that show…” He whispered, reaching forward to graze his fingertips over the wet skin of Calum’s hips. “I wanna see you paint that six-pack of yours. Can you do that, Slut?”

Calum groaned as he took his own dick in his hand and began pumping desperately. “Fuck, Hemmings… Keep talking!”

Gripping Calum’s hip tighter, Luke leaned forward to growl into the Slytherin’s ear. “Bet you wish that was my hand on your needy cock, huh?” He teased. “If you moan my name when you come apart for me in a minute, maybe I’ll touch you next time.”

Luke surprised himself with the suggestion that this could happen again but Calum seemed to enjoy the ide as he leaned back against the wall, fucking his own fist like his life depended on it. “I doubt a slut like you could last long with my hand around your cock, though… I hope you can work on your stamina Hood because I can give you the workout of a fucking life time.”

“Who said I want your fingers around my cock?” Calum whimpered. “Maybe I have another use for them.”

Luke was more than a little taken aback by Calum’s insinuation but he ran with it anyway. “Ah, of course you’d rather I finger fucked you, such a greedy little Slytherin, aren’t you?” His lips grazed Calum’s ear as he spoke and the tiny contact sent the older boy over the edge. He came apart with a string of curses, painting his tummy just like Luke had asked. The Hufflepuff was pleased that he could distinguish his name amongst the gibberish, though. It meant that Calum had listened to him and indicated that he'd be happy for it to happen again.

As Calum came down from his high, Luke waited, his face still far too close to the Slytherin’s now that it was all over. “Maybe you’re not completely worthless, Hood.” He whispered. “I’ll see you in the prefect’s bathroom tomorrow if you’re up for it…”

With that, Luke opened the door of the cubicle and stepped out of the shower, tying his towel around his waist and grabbing his washbag before heading back to the changing rooms. He still had no idea where all that had come from but he sure as hell hoped that Calum would take him up on his offer for round two.

Tag list: @cherrycolamike @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @painkillerash @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @loveroflrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @ghostofmashton @fairyintheglass @cashworthy @cashtonasfuck @opheliaaurora23 @5sosnsfw @wildmichaelflower @wildfl0wer-meg @irwinkitten @cxddlyash @wildmalumflower @cashtonasff5sos @iovehemmings @lowpowermodex @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @celticclifford @5-secondsofcolor @queer-5sos @Secret-Diary-of-an-Aquarius-blog @babylon-corgis

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thebiasrekkers · 5 years ago

Text

Breathe: Hope In Isolation | PJM

For the @bangtanscenery - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: For as long as Jimin can remember, the house is all he’s ever known. His only companion, a calico cat. Neither of them age as the house pulls them through time and space. He can neither interact with people nor stray far from the house. He is cursed to watch the world pass by every year and never be a part of it. But one day, someone not only is able to see the house, but they can finally see him as well.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: time-slip!au | modern fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama

Pairing: Park Jimin x Female OC (Brianna Larkins)

Warnings: Strong language, extreme angst, anxiety, implication of curses/magic

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 11.4K

AN: This idea came from a mash-up song of Billie Eilish and BTS. Specifically the song "Serendipity". I have been told that this story is the epitome of what Serendipity stands for and to me, that is the greatest compliment I could ever hope to receive. In a time of isolation, like what we are experiencing now, it's always important to remember the things that matter the most to us. Which are often the things we take for granted. So for those of you who are feeling lonely, sad, or even a little anxious, this is for you. Remember that you are loved.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Jimin’s grip tightened around the handle of the water pitcher as the house began to shake violently. The water sloshed from the pitcher, spilling onto the floor around his feet. The little calico cat that kept him company hopped onto the couch and curled itself into a ball of fluff. The few dishes he had trembled on top of the coffee table, all but threatening to fall to the floor. Craning his neck, he peeked out of the small kitchen window and sighed as the universe swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors and stars. The sheer curtains in the house fluttered with the speed of how fast everything was moving, causing his own blonde hair to fly back off his forehead.

Closing his eyes, Jimin held his breath and waited for the tremors to cease. He could never stare at the seemingly endless galaxies for too long. It always made him feel a little nauseous, even after all these years.

When the shaking finally ceased, he released the breath he held and opened his eyes when aggravated meows of protest reached his ears. Sighing, he turned to see the cat was now moving around on the couch in circles, kneading the cushions in determination before plopping its rump back down. The calico flicked its tail back and forth, patiently waiting for Jimin to open the window to let it roam about.

He poured the water into a glass, setting the pitcher down on the counter, and made his way over to the cat. Jimin stroked its head lovingly before leaning across the couch to unlatch the locks and pushed the window open. The cat wasted no time hopping outside to begin exploring. Shielding his eyes with his forearm, Jimin peered out to see where he’d landed this time.

When he’d landed this time.

The cat rolled happily in the bed of flowers, chasing after a butterfly. Wherever Jimin was, it was quiet and seemingly barren for as far as the eye could see. There were forests to one side and a rolling set of hills on the other. In the very center, separating both landmarks, was a wide open field of countless flowers in varying colors and breeds. A breeze pushed against his face and he smiled, savoring the smell and taste of the ocean winds. He was by the sea.

The weather was nice and calm. He wouldn’t need to dress warm, but he stripped out of his white t-shirt and slid on a long-sleeved one instead; also white. He kept his white linen trousers on and didn’t bother with shoes. It would be nice to feel the grass between his toes. His last location was a desert and sand got old very quickly, as did the heat. He rarely went outside during that year.

As his feet touched the grass, he was immediately filled with the fragrant smell of the flowers. He made sure not to inhale too much, or the aroma would overwhelm him. His little feline companion was long gone - seemingly off to explore and hunt whatever she wanted. Jimin didn’t mind. His friend always came back.

He walked around the entire radius of the house to get a good idea of his surroundings and tried to figure out the layout. Whatever time he was in, he couldn’t quite determine it. Not without notable landmarks and people to gauge their clothing or the latest technology of that era. Once he saw anything remotely familiar, he would figure out the rest.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d moved through time and space like this.

Spinning on his heels, he spread his arms out and flopped into the bed of flowers. Petals fluttered in the air around him, some falling into his hair and on his face. He smiled widely and even laughed. How he’d missed the clean air and the feel of cool grass on his skin. Jimin made a note to savor every moment he had in this time before he was forced to leave it again.

The sun felt warm on his face, lulling him into a serene state until he felt his lids growing heavy. He would have drifted off to sleep had it not been for his furry companion feeling the need to hop onto his stomach at that moment. The cat purred as he laughed and stroked the cat’s back.

“Did you find anything interesting?” he asked. The cat meowed in response, but not really giving him an answer. Jimin smiled, petting its head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Sitting up, he gathered the cat into his arms and stood up from the ground. “Let’s do a bit more exploring, hm?”

The two of them wandered around where they could. An invisible wall prevented Jimin from going further than two hundred meters in any direction. As he pressed his hand against the barrier, he gave a dejected sigh before returning back to the house. On the outside, it looked like a Tudor cottage with natural brick and molding. Everything else was white or a soft yellow color for the trimming, the roof tiles a rich cobalt blue. It was the strangest house he’d ever seen and it was probably the reason he was drawn to it in the first place.

Truth be told, Jimin couldn’t recall how long he’d been in that house. He didn’t even remember how old he was supposed to be or what time period he hailed from originally. All the clothing, food, and other necessities were replenished on their own. If the climate he was transported to was cold, all of his clothing was suited for the temperature drop. If it was hot, humid or dry, his clothes changed to match it as well. The house provided it all. He stopped questioning how and why a long long time ago.

Everything he owned was white, save for the bedding, which was just a simple yellow blanket. The couch was slate in color. There were a few plants in the house but they were all green and simple to take care of. Namely the cactus that sat on his coffee table.

He set the cat down and opened the door, waiting for the calico to prance inside. The house had enough natural light streaming from outside that the lack of actual lighting fixtures made little difference to Jimin. If he needed a light source, he would always light a candle or burn some oil in the lantern.

It would be just another year for Jimin. One year of many.

After he finished showering, he changed into some fresh garments and began scrounging up something together for a modest meal. The scent of flowers overwhelmed him to the point where he needed to come inside and lay down for a few hours. After smelling the acrid air of the desert, it was a stark contrast but one that he knew wouldn’t take long for him to acclimate.

For the first time in a while, he was actually excited to discover more of his new environment.

The first few weeks were uneventful. They always were.

Once he was used to the floral aroma that wafted in through his windows, he made it a point to gather up fresh flowers and placed them throughout the house. The interior in its entirety was white, so the bursts of color that the flowers provided were a welcome change. Jimin could hardly remember a time where he was able to be surrounded by nature in its colorful bountifulness.

He’d been from place to place and from one time to the next. He jumped from the past where architecture was still done by hand to the future where machines did most of the heavy labor. Some skies were clear and blue, others were dark and overcast. Rain, sleet, snow, high winds and desert storms. Jimin was able to experience them all thanks to the power of the house that moved him in and out of existence through an ethereal portal he couldn’t begin to hope to understand.

Strangely enough, he didn’t age. He assumed it was from the power of the house. There was no other explanation. He stopped questioning it years ago because he forgot the reason he was in the house in the first place, or how he’d gotten there.

Certain things were made clear from his travels through time, however, and it made coping with his isolation a little bit difficult. The invisible barrier was one. His inability to grow old was another. He couldn’t destroy the house either. He tried many years ago in a fit of anger and didn’t leave a scratch on the surface. He couldn’t even burn it down. He tried that too.

Jimin only stayed in one place and time for a year. Then the house would jump through time. The house would never leave without him, because the house and he were connected. Even if Jimin was outside after the year was over, he would get pulled back inside for the journey.

The one that struck him the hardest, however, was the fact that no one could see him or the house. This made interacting with people impossible.

No matter how much he screamed, no one could hear him. No matter how hard he tried to touch someone, they could not feel him. His hand would pass straight through their bodies, as though he were little more than a ghost to them. But he wasn’t dead, of that he was most certain.

He couldn’t recall, exactly, how far back it was he’d learned these things, but they were lessons that stuck with him for a very long time. Since then, he simply flitted in and out of existence, watching the world and the people in it pass him by. So far, the only being he could actually interact with was the calico cat that lived in the house with him and as far as Jimin could tell, the cat was always by his side.

The months rolled on in an even keel and there was still no sign of a single person in sight. The weather was getting warmer, breaching into summer. From what Jimin could gather, he arrived at the onset of spring. It wouldn’t be long before autumn was upon him and he would no longer be able to relish in the lovely landscape as things began to die. The thought of it caused a pained expression to form on his face. He didn’t like to witness things wilting before his eyes, but what choice did he have?

It rained for a few days straight, cooling the air and giving it a refresher of sorts. The rain always made Jimin sleepy and he often napped for hours at a time before getting up to feed himself, shower, and then return to bed. The cat enjoyed rainy days because it gave her an excuse to cuddle with Jimin as he spent the days lazily lying in bed.

The sound of laughter pulled Jimin from deep sleep, causing him to rouse from bed. Bleary eyed and a little groggy, he shuffled around from his room and out to the kitchen. The laughter was louder now and it was more than one set of tones from what he could gather. Pouring himself a glass of water, he drained it in a few gulps and then splashed some water on his face to fully rid himself of the sleepy haze still settled on the backs of his eyelids.

Pulling back the sheer curtains, he peeked out of the kitchen window and blinked rapidly. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but he knew he wasn’t dreaming. There in the fields of flowers were several people; young men and women. They were sprawled out on a blanket, laughing and talking as a small radio sat at their side. Jazz peeled from the speakers and he could tell from the model that it was a mid to late 80s radio. There was a large picnic basket between them and one girl with red hair began pulling out things from inside of it. Two of the three boys scrambled off the blanket and started tossing a baseball between each other, the sound of the ball hitting the leather gloves like whip cracks to Jimin’s ears.

The boy who remained was sitting with the two girls who were chatting it up while putting things on paper plates. Confident they couldn’t see him, Jimin poured himself another glass of water and stepped outside so he could hear them better. They were just within the two hundred meter barrier, but just barely.

“When’s Brianna comin’?” asked the boy with dirty blonde hair as bit into a sandwich.

The red-haired girl shrugged as she poured some orange juice into a cup and handed it to the blonde-haired girl beside her. “I dunno. She said she’d be here soon.”

The blonde scoffed as she leaned back on one hand. “She’s always late to these things. We only have a month and a half of summer vacation left before the new school year starts.”

The two boys tossing the ball back and forth looked at them. One of them had jet black hair that fell around his ears and the other was mousy and in a bowl cut. “Then we’ll officially be college students.”

The red-haired girl groaned, falling onto her side. “Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m dreading it already.”

The boy on the blanket chuckled. “Yeah right, Miss ‘I’m moving to New York to be a famous fashion designer’ Maxine.”

Maxine pouted, shifting to lay on her stomach. “Shut-up, Eddie. You all know how hard I worked to get that scholarship.”

“Aw, come on, Max,” teased the blonde, “you know he’s only teasing. Eddie’s just sad to see you leave our little circle of friendship.”

Eddie puffed out one of his cheeks and bit into the sandwich in annoyance. “Psh, whatever. No one asked you, Stephanie .”

The blonde, Stephanie, glared at him. “It’s Stevie. Call me Stephanie again and I’ll knock your fuckin’ block off.”

“Language, Stevie,” called the boy with black hair as he flashed her a grin.

“Oh, fuck you, James.” Stevie flipped her middle finger at him, which only caused him to dissolve into a small fit of laughter.

The mousy-haired boy laughed as he tossed the ball to James. “You two should just get married already.”

James missed the ball, balking at his friend. “You’re out of your fuckin’ gourd, Marcus.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and motioned for James to toss the ball back to him. When he did, instead of it falling into his glove like it had been, it was caught in a bare hand. Jimin looked up to see a young girl with light brown skin and dark brown curls holding the ball. Dressed in a pair of distressed denim overall shorts, she wore a hunter green t-shirt underneath; a black and white flannel shirt tied around her waist. On her feet, instead of sandals, were a pair of combat boots.

This ensemble had Jimin canting his head slightly. It wasn’t exactly a summer-type outfit, but what did he know about fashion? Everything he owned was white.

“Well look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” called Max as she sat up on her elbows, “we were beginning to think you were gonna be a no-show.”

“Yeah, Bree,” said Stevie, “where’ve you been?”

“Got held up at work,” Bree said as she tossed the ball back to James. She took a few steps and paused, her eyes meeting Jimin’s. The action was so sudden that he nearly dropped the glass of water he was holding. She pointed a finger at him. “Who’s the new guy?”

“Huh?” Eddie looked in the direction she was pointing, blinked as Jimin looked back at him, then faced Bree again. “Who’re you talkin’ about?”

This time she extended her arm, still pointing at Jimin. He took a step back, unsure of what to make of this new development. He could feel the heat rising up his neck and creeping over his face.

“Him. Who is he?” Bree looked at the others as she placed a hand on her hip. “And did you guys actually ask him if we could hang out in the front yard of his house?”

Stevie’s brows furrowed as she stood up from the blanket. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, girl?” She turned her head in either direction. “What house? What guy?”

Bree rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, if you guys are tryin’ to play some game with me, I’m going to make your lives hell for the next hour.” She looked back at Jimin and his lips parted in both surprise and fear. “Hey you! Are you in on this too?”

“Bree, have you been smokin’ again?” Marcus teased as he gently pushed her back. “Told you about tokin’ it up so much during vacay.”

For a moment, all she did was look at Jimin; seemingly boring holes through his own sockets. He licked his lips, contemplating on responding, but was soon pulled from his shock after James moved to pick Bree up and spun her around as he hefted her stomach-first onto his shoulder. She kicked and smacked his back, turning her away from Jimin so that she could no longer catch him in her line of sight.

But that didn’t keep her from shouting.

“Yo! I’m talkin’ to you! Hey!”

Jimin didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. Someone was actually looking at him and speaking to him. This was the first time it’d happened in all the years he’d moved in and out of time. As much as he wanted to respond to her, he knew that she would only look like a raving lunatic if he tried to speak or interact with her in any way. So Jimin did the only thing he could at that moment.

He ran back into the house, slamming the door closed behind him.

Hours passed and the people still remained. Even as the sun was setting, they showed no signs of vacating the premises. They’d spent so much time out there that James managed to change the batteries on the portable radio in the midst of all their fun and games. Jimin was both confused and entranced. He longed to sit beside them as they turned on their flashlights and shared stories about their school year.

The one called “Bree” kept Jimin from even entertaining the idea of getting closer.

After the initial chaos from her outburst died down, he secretly hoped that she would merely view both the house and him as mere figments of her imagination. Clearly she was the more rebellious one of the group, partaking in recreational drugs as well as managing a part-time job. But that also made her a bit skeptical, at least from Jimin’s perspective. For a while, he believed she’d forgotten about him, as well as the house. But every so often, when he would peek out the window to be part of their little world, she would cast her umber hues in his direction, forcing Jimin to retreat back into the safety of his home.

Why was he so afraid? Wasn’t this what he’d always wanted? What he’d yearned for?

Hiding like this seemed silly and pointless.

When will I be able to speak to someone again?

The thought weighed on his heart like a heavy anvil, threatening to sink all the way down to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t remember how many years he traveled through the universe. But he could remember the loneliness he felt during that time. What was it like to have a normal conversation with someone? To be able to laugh and share memories together, no matter how exciting or dull they might have been? To cherish the small moments like the people were outside?

When would another opportunity like this come again for Jimin?

He knew this to be true. There was no sense in denying it or even ignoring it. There was no other truth. But it couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the darkest recesses of his own heart.

He feared rejection. He was afraid of being turned away from anyone who could see him. So detached and far from the realm of normal, Jimin knew that anyone would find his circumstances both unreasonable and unbelievable.

Being invisible was better than being ignored.

“So, we callin’ it a night or what?” It was Marcus.

The sound of a yawn being stifled was heard. “Yeah, I think so.” Now it was Stevie.

There was a distinct rustling noise of things being gathered. Jimin, while locked away in the house, hadn’t strayed too far from the window. He made sure to keep himself hidden in case Bree had any urges to look in his direction. But in those hours, he’d grown accustomed to whose voice belonged to which person and enjoyed being able to get to know them despite the lack of interaction. It made him sad to know that they would be leaving; even more so that he didn’t know when they would be back. If they would be back.

He took a chance to peek out the window and saw the group rolling up their things. They all laughed, chatted more, and promised to get together again later in the week when they were all free. Something about hitting the mall or maybe going to watch a movie. Jimin pressed his back to the wall as the sounds of their footsteps faded off in the distance.

A movie. Jimin tried hard to think back on when he last saw a movie. His earliest memory was so fuzzy and he couldn’t be sure if it was accurate.

The calico cat meowed as she rubbed her body in between each of his legs, bringing him out of his thoughts. Crouching down, he began to stroke the cat’s spine and tail before rubbing her head lovingly. She purred happily to the attention and he smiled. “You wanted to play with them too, huh? I’m sorry, but it was too risky to let you out.” The cat meowed again, as if understanding his words, and he gathered her up into his arms. “Maybe I’ll read a book tonight…”

Jimin managed to take a few steps into the main living area when the sound of the door knocking caused him to drop his friend. The cat landed softly on her paws and scampered away to the couch, leaving him seemingly frozen in time. He couldn’t ignore the cold sweat dripping from his neck or the heavy ache in his chest from how hard his heart was thudding against it.

Craning his neck, he peered at the door.

Again, three knocks hit from the other side.

“Hello?”

It had to be her. It couldn’t have been anyone else. But clearly she’d left with the others. What reason would she have to turn back?

“Hey, I know you’re in there.” In most cases, that phrase would have been threatening. But her voice belied something else. “Look, I just wanna talk, okay?”

This was it. This was the moment Jimin wanted. He wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

Yet all he could do was stare at the door. His body refused to move. He wanted to, but his feet were rooted in place. There was a lump forming in his throat and he wasn’t sure if he could swallow it down enough to speak. To tell this person to go away, even though he secretly yearned for them to stay.

“J-Just a minute,” came his weak response.

He wasn’t sure if she’d heard him, but he took a moment to gather his courage before forcing himself to cross the short distance to the front door. It wasn’t locked. She could have just waltzed in if she pleased. Jimin was thankful she hadn’t, though. He wasn’t sure how he would have responded if she’d barged in unannounced.

When he opened the door, Jimin felt his heart skip a beat as he looked at Bree. He shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t like this was the first time she was seeing him. But this time they were less than three feet from each other. She stood with her hands folded across her chest, giving him the once over with a glance. Jimin flushed, averting his gaze for half a second before moving back to her.

She’s pretty, he thought suddenly, causing another rush of heat to stain his cheeks. It was unexpected but was also still his own opinion.

“Good evening.”

It was the only thing Jimin could come up with that didn’t sound stupid.

“You too,” she said almost dismissively. It wasn’t offensive, but it was clear that Bree had her own priorities. “So what’s your deal?”

He nervously placed a hand on the back of his neck. “What do you mean?”

“You. This house.” Bree looked to her left, right, then back to him. “How come no one else can see it but I can?”

Biting his lower lip, he felt his brows knit in worry. He couldn’t very well lie to her. So he chose to tell her the truth. “I honestly don’t know.”

A single brow lifted on Bree’s face. “You don’t know or you won’t tell me?”

Jimin shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

He winced slightly. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

Sighing, she brushed a hand through her dark curls. “Okay, well what do you know?”

“That you’re the first person who’s been able to see me and this house.” The cat meowed, moving between Jimin’s feet to rub her body against Bree’s leg. She looked down and blinked at the feline, then looked back at Jimin. “And the cat.”

The calico continued to weave in and out from between Bree’s legs until she finally relented, leaning down to pick up the cat. His companion seemed to appreciate being able to interact with someone other than him and he felt a little offended. Bree petted the cat for a moment, then held her hand out toward him. For a while, all he did was stare at her hand.

“I’m Brianna Larkins. Friends call me Bree.”

Slowly, he reached for her hand. But just as he was about to touch her, he hesitated. Part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening. Jimin was afraid that his hand would pass straight through hers like he were a mere apparition.

Bree took the initiative, grabbing his hand with her own. It caused him to jump slightly, the sensation of touching another person a seemingly foreign concept to him. He’d well and truly forgotten what it was like to feel the skin of another human being. All he could do was watch, dumbfounded, as she shook their hands up and down.

“I’m Jimin.”

She canted her head slightly. “No last name?”

“I can’t remember it.”

She didn’t bother hiding her scoff as she let his hand go. Already he was mourning the absence of her touch. “Figures.” Bree lifted herself onto the balls of her feet to peek inside the house just over his shoulder. “So, can I come in or what?”

Again, another question he didn’t know the answer to. Surely if she could see both the house and him, as well as touch him, then she should have been able to cross the threshold into the house. But that was just a theory. One he’d never had the pleasure of putting into practice.

“S-Sure,” Jimin managed to stammer out as he stood to the side, giving her room to step through the entrance.

And just like that, she stepped past the door frame and into his main living area like it was the most natural thing on earth. Jimin stood speechless while still holding the door open. Bree pulled off her combat boots, the calico still held delicately in her arms as she moved in and out of the space he alone occupied for so long. Well, him and his little furry friend. It was too strange and his mind was having a difficult time processing everything that was happening.

If he could describe the sensation accurately, Jimin felt like he was walking through water that was a mile deep and he was on the verge of drowning.

“Little lacking in the interior decorating department, don’t you think?” she asked while slowly turning as she walked.

Jimin rubbed at the back of his head. “That’s not something I can really control, unfortunately.”

And it was true. Even if he could paint the walls, they would just turn white again after a matter of minutes.

Bree shrugged as she turned to face him. “Better than some awful wallpaper or something.”

“Yeah,” was all he could say.

Why was talking to another person so hard? It shouldn’t have been this difficult, should it?

He watched her head to the sitting area where only his gray sofa was, along with the coffee table. She flopped down on the cushions, the cat wriggling out of her arms to crawl onto the windowsill. Bree looked at Jimin expectantly and for a moment, he didn’t understand what was supposed to happen next. She suddenly patted the empty seat next to her.

“Well?”

“Uh, right…” Jimin took a step, then stopped himself. “Oh, I didn’t even offer you anything to drink.” He turned to head back to the kitchen.

“It’s fine, seriously, dude.” When he looked back at Bree, he saw her smiling, clearly amused with his flustered behavior. “I said I wanted to talk and I meant it. So c’mere.”

Deciding to just go along with whatever was happening, Jimin crossed the short space and slowly sank onto the couch beside her. His heartbeat thundered like war drums in his ear and he started closing and opening his hands by his knees. This was unreal and he couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to do next.

“So,” she said while clapping her hands together, “let’s try to figure some shit out.”

He whipped his head to look at her, half his vision obscured by his blonde fringe. “H-Huh?”

Bree shrugged while raising her brows. “I mean, don’t you think it’s a little weird that I can see you and the house and no one else can?”

“Well, yeah…” Though Jimin wouldn’t have necessarily called it weird as he would uncircumstantial.

“There’s got to be some kinda puzzle behind this.” He watched her bite into her lower lip as her brows furrowed in thought this time. Bree gave a low hum, as if she were trying to piece something together in her head. “You’re obviously not a ghost.” She reached out and poked his cheek for good measure, causing Jimin to lean back a bit as his eyes widened in shock. Again, sensations he wasn’t used to feeling. “You look human, but that doesn’t mean you’re not an alien.”

He pouted. “I’m not an alien.”

Bree blinked at him, then laughed at his reaction. “Okay, fine. You’re not an alien then.” She gave her head a slight tilt while placing a hand on her chin. “Are you some kind of angel?”

Jimin relaxed a little. Her teasing nature eased some of the tension that was weighing on his shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, as stupid as this might sound, it’s because you’re wearing all white.” She gestured to the rest of the house. “The entire house is white.”

“Not all of it.”

“No, you’re right.” Bree leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. “But I can’t think of anything else.”

He sighed a little. Jimin couldn’t help himself, but it happened anyway. “Why can’t I just be human?”

For a while, a small stretch of silence managed to lurk between them. Suddenly, Bree sat up straight and punched her fist into her hand. It startled Jimin, causing him to lean back slightly. Her eyes were shining brightly, like she’d just had an idea.

“That’s it!”

Bree jumped from the couch and Jimin felt himself standing on impulse. He watched her scrambling to put on her shoes and as he was about to call out to her, she turned to face him. Whatever popped into her head suddenly, she was hellbent on leaving to figure it out.

“Where are you going?”

Jimin hadn’t meant to ask. It just slipped out. Part of him worried that if she left, he’d never see her again. This was his one opportunity to be able to actually interact with another person and he didn’t want it taken away from him. The moment felt far too short.

“I need to get home.” She held up a finger, still smiling. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

And before he could ask her what she meant, the girl turned and ran out the door. There was a heaviness that sank over him as the latch clicked. While he didn’t doubt her words, Jimin couldn’t ignore the overwhelming sense of loneliness clinging to him in her absence.

In just a few short minutes, his house felt emptier.

Bree returned the next day.

And the day after that.

Until Summer slowly came to an end, yielding into Fall.

Every day that she left and returned, Jimin was both sad and elated. He understood the meaning behind the phrase “welcome back”, even though he never said it out loud. The power of “goodbye” was heavier than he could even begin to fathom. He knew the steps that it took to truly get to know someone, because knowing a person meant cherishing every single feeling and interaction that came with it.

Bree brought over tons of books. Some were reference texts and others were compilations of fairy tales. He didn’t understand the latter until she explained it. And what she managed to divulge actually made a lot of sense.

“See here,” she said, pointing to a paragraph in the tale of Beauty and the Beast, “the Beast wasn’t allowed to leave the castle. There was a spell cast on him, a curse, and the only way the curse would be broken is if a person could see past the beast on the outside and into the heart of the man on the inside.”

Jimin furrowed his brows. “But it says that he was cursed because of his arrogance.” He met Bree’s gaze. “He turned the old woman away who wanted shelter from the storm and that’s why she cursed him.”

“So?”

“So you think I’m cursed?”

Bree sat up straight. “Don’t you?”

He frowned. “What makes you think I’m cursed?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe because no one can see this house or you, but you can see everyone else? Or maybe because you’ve been in isolation so long that that you lost your memories? Or maybe because you can’t go more than two hundred meters in any given direction?” Defiantly, she folded her arms across her chest. “Or maybe because you can’t age and your house is a literal fucking time machine that moves you back and forth from the past, to the present, to the future? Or MAYBE--”

Jimin held his hands up in defeat, not even realizing that he was smiling. “Okay, okay! I get it. Enough already.” He let his hands settle back into his lap. “Okay. Maybe you’re right.”

“Jesus, I wish you would listen to me,” she muttered while brushing her thick curls off her shoulders. Her attention returned to the book and she leaned forward, resting her elbows onto her knees as she scanned the pages again. Jimin came to learn of her sarcastic nature and was often on the receiving end of her tongue lashes. “All of it points to you being cursed, but it doesn’t help that you can’t even remember why you’re here or where you originally came from.” Chin still propped in her hands, she craned her neck to look up at him. “You sure you don’t remember anything?”

A pained expression formed and before he could hide it, Bree was already sitting up again. He could see the apologetic look on her face, and he felt guilty instantly. He hadn’t meant to be so expressive, but the more he interacted with her, the more free he was with his emotions.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I didn’t mean it that way--”

“I know,” he said softly, “it’s okay.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair, groaning in aggravation. “God, this is so frustrating!” Again, her attention returned to the book. “What are we missing?”

“A miracle,” Jimin said flatly, to which Bree cuffed him on the shoulder. He laughed from surprise more than actual pain.

“I’m serious.” She pouted. “There’s gotta be something we’re not paying attention to.”

Jimin couldn’t figure out what the missing piece to the puzzle was. Part of him honestly didn’t care. He was enjoying the time he got to spend with Bree and there was no guarantee that he would be able to return to his original time. It was all just theories and hypothetical possibilities at this point. If it was one thing he learned during all of his travel through various eras in history, it was to value the present. The past and the future were inconsequential.

“Does it really matter?”

He didn’t miss the look on Bree’s face at his question. But he wondered if it did, in fact, matter? He’d been living his life this way for so long. Interacting with Bree was a variable he hadn’t accounted for. He just wanted to focus on the here and now.

She sat up a little straighter, then sighed. “Aren’t you tired of living like this?”

Yes, I’m tired of it.

But he knew the truth. She knew it too. When his year was up, Jimin was going to have to leave this place. He would leave it behind just like he did all the others; with no hope of ever returning. Regardless of what he may have wanted, the end result would always be the same.

A lump formed in his throat, making it impossible to respond. He parted his lips to speak, but then gave up. Averting his gaze, he stared at the open book on the table. His vision blurred momentarily as he fought back oncoming tears. A sad smile formed on his lips.

“...does it really matter?”

Jimin saw Bree less and less as the Fall season hit full force. School was back in session and she worked part-time. But she made a point to always come by on her off days or when she finished up with her classes. He was able to glean that she must have lived nearby. Was the area he was in a rural township of sorts? He thought about asking her to bring a magazine or newspaper the next time she decided to pay him a visit, but they were usually caught up with various other conversations and he only remembered long after she was gone.

Her absences weighed heavily on Jimin. They’d been so engrossed in fairy tales and folklore that he often compared himself to Rapunzel, trapped in isolation and waiting for his one true destined one to save him from his prison. It was safe, comfortable, and he wasn’t in chains, but it was a prison just the same.

The leaves changed color and fell from the branches. Vibrant greens transformed into browns and beige. The flowers were long dead. Jimin could tell from the area that he was in that it would snow and while it was something he was looking forward to, he wondered if it would be safe for Bree to trek around the mountainous area in the dead of night. It wasn’t like he could walk her home like he wanted to.

He was stuck.

The front door opened, pulling Jimin from his thoughts. He was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with a book in his lap. The cat, now named Juno thanks to Bree, looked up from her perch on the armrest. Bree stopped knocking on the door months back and there was never a need to lock it. Jimin remembered winning an argument they had about his safety with keeping the door unlocked. There was really no point. No one else could see the house to break in and it wasn’t like he had a key he could give her.

Bree quickly unraveled the scarf from around her neck. She was carrying something in her arms and it smelled sweet. Untangling himself from the blanket, he made his way into the kitchen as Bree busied herself with the dishes. Peering out the window, he saw how dark it was and frowned.

“It’s late.”

She pulled out some chocolate chip cookies from the bag and plated them. “Yeah, I know. I got held up at work again.”

“It’s not safe for you to be wandering around up here by yourself so late at night.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You could have just come first thing in the morning.”

Jimin was reprimanding her, but it’d been several days since their last meeting. Secretly, he was happy she was there.

“Can’t. I have class in the morning.” She handed the plate to him.

The worry lines on his brow deepened. “Then you definitely shouldn’t have come out here.”

Bree rolled her eyes. It was only then that he noticed her bookbag. “Psh, you’d go stir crazy if I didn’t show up today. Besides, I brought cookies as a bribe.”

He’d hardly call that a bribe, but he was happy for the present.

She poured them both a glass of milk each. He carried the plate to the living room and they both flopped on the couch at the same time. Bree skillfully didn’t spill a single drop of milk before setting the glasses on the table.

“Don’t you have homework?” Jimin nibbled on a cookie as he cast a sideways glance at her.

Rifling through her book bag, she dropped a few notebooks and pencils on top. “I finished it during break at work.”

He raised his brows as she pulled out extra clothes and set them on the floor by the couch. “Uh, what are you--”

“I’m sleeping over,” she interjected, reaching down to pick up Juno and cuddle her into her lap.

For a while, Jimin said nothing. All he did was stare as she pulled her thick curls back into a low ponytail.

Finally, it registered.

“W-What?” He turned to fully face her. “You’re staying here?!”

She cut her gaze at him. “Did I stutter?” He was about to ask why, but instead a cookie was pushed into his open mouth. “Besides, I had an idea I wanted to run by you and it couldn’t wait another day.”

Attempting to swallow the cookie, he grabbed the glass of milk and washed most of it down. The awkwardness of her staying over was overshadowed by his curiosity. “What idea?”

Biting into a cookie, she quickly opened one of her notebooks up and showed it to him. “The conditions.” She pointed to a series of bullet markings. “All the folk legends and fairy tales state that certain conditions have to be met in order to break the curse.”

“Okay,” he said while nodding, “but those conditions all stem from knowing what the curse entails, doesn’t it?” Jimin sighed. “So we’re still back at square one.”

Bree set the notebook down suddenly, leaned into his space and soon her face was inches from his own. Blinking rapidly, his heart suddenly thundered heavily against his chest. Jimin’s eyes momentarily crossed when he felt the velvet texture of Bree’s lips brushing against his own. The contact was swift enough that he couldn’t savor it, but long enough for him to get a taste of her cherry lip balm.

When she finally pulled back, Jimin just stared open-mouthed at Bree. He almost missed the rose tint on her cheeks. Her dark skin tone made it a little bit more difficult to notice it, but the moonlight outside seemed to illuminate her face radiantly.

Reality sank down on Jimin’s chest as he remembered to breathe. “W-W-Wh-What was that for?!”

“Do you feel any different?” Bree leaned back a little more. “Did it work?”

The absurdity of the question helped Jimin to collect himself. “Does it look like I’m back in my own time?”

“Who says this time isn’t your time?” she countered.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure it would be obvious if it actually worked.” Jimin pointed to a line in her notes. “Something phenomenal always happens soon after a curse is broken. That’s how you know.”

Bree snapped her fingers with a scoff. “Damn!”

Jimin couldn’t keep himself from laughing. “Next you’re gonna tell me to go slay some dragon.”

“If there was a dragon around, you bet your ass I would.” Jimin was thankful she turned away from him so he could focus on steadying his racing heartbeat. She bit her thumb in thought. “A kiss is usually a surefire way to break a curse. Since I’m the first person who’s seen the house and you, I figured that was the answer.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he reached for another cookie. “There are probably more conditions that go along with that.”

Bree tilted her head slightly as she looked back at him. “So you think that I’m a variable in all of this?”

“It wouldn’t make sense for you not to be.” He furrowed his brows and looked back at her notes. “Everything points to you being a part of it. We just have to figure out how.”

Groaning, she flung herself against the couch and began kicking the heels of her feet on the floor in frustration. “This is annoying!” She covered her eyes with her forearm. “I don’t know how people in research and development go through all this trial and error nonsense.”

He flashed her a reassuring smile. “It’s kinda their job, Bree.”

He watched her slip her arm off her face and flop down beside while she stared up at the ceiling. “Conditions need to be met…”

Jimin lightly poked her forehead to get her attention. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up too much. I’m just thankful for all the help and effort you’ve been putting in on my account.”

She gently moved his hand out the way before sitting up again. “I was so sure we were getting close.”

“We probably are. We just don’t know.” But that also brought up another curious thought. “Why are you so adamant about helping me anyway?”

“Huh?” Her expression clearly stated that she didn’t understand why Jimin would even ask such an obvious question. “I mean, don’t you want to go back to where your friends and family are? They’re probably freakin’ worried out of their heads, y’know?”

He smirked. “I doubt it.”��

There was no cynicism in his tone. Jimin believed that everything happened for a reason.

He met Bree’s gaze and was surprised to see a tiny flicker of sadness in her umber hues. “I just want to get you home. That’s all.”

Kindness to a complete stranger. It was something archaic to Jimin because he wasn’t able to interact with people for quite some time. He knew that the people he cared about more than likely moved on with their lives after his disappearance. But Jimin also knew that if he miraculously wound up getting back to his original timeline, then it would settle all the other paradoxes surrounding his involvement. Things would go back to normal, in theory. Whoever placed this curse on him must have realized this, hence why he was unable to interact with people until now.

Leaning forward, he reached out to Bree and pulled her into his arms. He heard her gasp softly, his motions completely unexpected even to him. But he couldn’t think of any other way to express his gratitude. In the months he’d gotten to know her, he knew that Bree was rough around the edge but was genuinely a good person. Her determination to get him home, to the place where he belonged, more than evident in her actions. They weren’t just empty words.

Jimin could perceive that now after having been denied human interaction for many years.

“Thank you…”

When he pulled back, their noses were just barely touching. Then he leaned in to press his lips against hers. He tasted the sweetness of the cookies and her cherry lip balm all over again. Jimin slowly urged her lips apart with his tongue, silently asking for entrance. When she complied, he slid his tongue across her teeth and over her own pink muscle.

The sigh mingled with the moan Bree managed to push out from her chest and he pulled her even closer so he would be able to hear her heartbeat. Bree’s hands slowly slid up his torso, resting her palms on his chest. Jimin took his time pulling and nipping at her full lips, enjoying the sweet taste of her mouth. Part of it was the cookie. Part of it was her lip balm. The rest was just simply how she tasted naturally.

As their lips parted, he smiled and bumped his forehead against her own. Even though his shadow covered half of her face, he could feel the warmth simmering along the surface of her skin. Jimin closed her notebook with one hand, still smiling as he stared into her face.

“I know as the host, I should be nice and offer you my bed while I take the couch. But would you be against us both using the bed?”

Bree blinked a few times, then flashed a devious grin. “I wouldn’t be against it, no.”

Jimin immediately scooped Bree into his arms, carrying her like a new bride. There wouldn’t be any mischief. At least, that wouldn’t be the plan. All he wanted was to savor this moment, the sound of Bree’s laughter as he carted her off to the bedroom, Juno hot on their heels.

The house didn’t feel so big anymore and the joy Jimin felt was indescribable.

Fall was fleeting and Winter swept in faster than Jimin could have anticipated. The house was warm as per the conditions it needed for him to remain comfortable. His clothes changed to suit the shift in temperature. He had to be thankful for all that the house was able to provide for him. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle actually having to do everything on his own outside of the normal things.

As much as he fussed at Bree for wanting to continue to trek up the mountain to see him, Jimin relished in the closeness that blossomed even further between them.

True to his word, they didn’t actually do anything that night. He had a sense of morals and a conscience, not wanting to seem like he was trying to take advantage of Bree’s kindness and affection toward him. Outside of kissing, they just cuddled and slept in the bed. He wouldn’t go further than that and Bree seemed to pick up on his need to not press things too far.

Jimin was just glad that Bree took everything surrounding his circumstances in stride. She was understanding, open-minded, and willing to help. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like between them if she’d been a full-blown skeptic.

They never put a label on what they were to each other. He didn’t know about her, but Jimin felt there wasn’t a need. In six months’ time, he would disappear from her life like a passing dream. Maybe she would come to forget him. She would move on as if nothing changed and continue to strive towards her own aspirations. Jimin would remain in his proverbial prison, clinging to the memories that he’d made with her; hoping to seek solace on the more lonely nights when he knew he would inevitably miss her.

It was getting even colder out. He didn’t want Juno going out and getting frostbite in the snow that was slowly starting to pile up outside. The cat made a fuss about it initially, but after walking around just by the window, she understood that her little paws weren’t going to like being wet and cold.

Despite the biting chill of the air, Jimin admired how picturesque everything looked. The floral landscape was completely covered in a blanket of fresh powder. Even if he hadn’t met Bree, he was still lucky to be able to enjoy scenery like this. Traveling through time helped him to appreciate all forms of nature, but he couldn’t get enough of these images.

He had a pot of coffee brewing and the aroma filtered throughout the house. He wasn’t big on coffee. Not usually. Jimin slept when he felt like it and was awake when he wanted to be. Having coffee seemed almost a little pointless. But ever since he met Bree, he’d indulged here and there. It was more for her sake than his own since it was apparent that she didn’t get much sleep. Even less since having met him.

His brows furrowed slightly, shaking off the guilt that tried to sit on the forefront of his mind. Jimin knew it was her own choice that kept her coming back. No one else’s. She would have smacked him for trying to shoulder the responsibility all on his own and it wasn’t fair for him to take it.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he noticed the small clock on the counter. It was a present from Bree. There was nothing fancy about it. Just a simple clock that only needed batteries changed out every so often. She left said batteries in a drawer. Jimin scoffed about not needing to know the time, his predicament making it obvious as to why.

“Just because you never know where you wind up doesn’t mean you should ignore what time it is while you’re there.”

Jimin’s lips pulled into a small smile. She was right. This, and many things, were the small lessons that he was beginning to finally learn. As if it was Bree’s purpose to teach them to him.

It would make leaving her that much harder.

He entered the living room after checking the time, his free hand reaching out to unlatch the window. Despite the cold, Jimin still wanted to get a bit of fresh air circulating inside of the house. The sun had long since set and Bree would be battling through the cold to see him. He saw a few flurries starting to float from the sky, his brows furrowing at the thought of the snow falling heavier and further impeding Bree’s trek up the mountain.

I hope she takes it slow…

The worry didn’t start setting in until several hours passed by. Initially, he simply shrugged it off as nothing. It wasn’t unheard of for Bree to be late. She could’ve easily gotten caught up with her job or even hanging out with her friends from school. The group she came up there with seemed close.

But as the night pushed onward with no sign of Bree in sight, Jimin began to get a little concerned.

Unlatching the window, he pushed it open and a rush of cold air whipped across his body. The chill shot down his spine, causing his skin to pepper out in goosebumps. The muscles in his shoulder grew taut as he fought back the urge to shiver. Juno meowed in protest to the cold, hopping down onto the couch to curl herself against one of the throw pillows. The full moon hung like a pearl in the sky, illuminating the world around him.

In the distance, he heard several howls. Their cries filled the night air, indicating that they were gathering together. Possibly for a hunt. The prospect of food in the area seemed a little slim, but Jimin didn’t think it was impossible. Especially if they were making rounds in preparation to stalk their prey.

Fear suddenly gripped at Jimin’s chest. Juno’s mewling snapped him out of his trance and he hopped out of the window. The cold nipped at his feet, but he didn’t care. He could barely feel it. The snow crunched under his feet as the wind continued to push around him, the flurries falling heavier than they had a few hours earlier.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “BREE!” His voice echoed over the wide expanse of the landscape. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

There was nothing. Nothing save for the sound of his voice bouncing back at him.

And then he heard a scream.

Jimin trounced forward, wading through several feet of snow. Desperation pushed him forward, forcing him to start running. He pumped his legs into the ground as hard as he could until he slammed into the invisible wall. The force of impact knocked him back-first into the snow and the cold clung to every inch of his skin. Not wasting a single second, he scrambled back onto his feet and began kicking and punching the wall, clawing at the barrier with his bare hands. At some point he started to scream, but he couldn’t remember when. The burning sensation rippling down his throat kept him alert until something snapped inside of him.

The sound of glass shattering echoed in his head. It was loud, like an explosion. Before he’d realized what’d happened, he was taking off at a dead run toward the cluster of trees near the base of the mountain. The world was a blur around him as he sped off toward his destination, following the howls of the wolves as his need to find Bree overshadowed all other rational thoughts that made vain attempts to come to the surface.

Pain registered in the back of his mind as he ran. The dying branches from trees and bushes seemed to reach out in their need to snatch him in the darkness. Jimin used the moonlight to guide him as twigs snapped against his body and dying leaves crunched under his bare feet.

Predatory snarls loomed around him, spurning him forward. Bree’s scream tore through the night, signaling where her location was. Slipping on wet grass, he crashed to his knees and rolled through the snow. The momentum helped him to get back up, making a quick right through the forest as the barks of wolves became louder.

Bursting through a thicket of trees, he entered a clearing and saw half a dozen wolves in a semicircle advancing toward their prey. They turned in sync with one another in his direction as they bared their fangs at him. Bree was on the ground and holding her ankle while trying to shuffle back as much as she could. Jimin’s eyes met hers for a split second and he saw her face was red, splotchy, and slick with tears.

“J-Jimin!”

Rage flared across Jimin’s chest as he picked up a broken tree branch. One of the wolves launched forward, his jet claws and pearl fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Jimin roared and swung with all the strength he could muster, the branch striking true as he slammed into the side of the wolf’s head. A sharp cry of pain came from the wild animal as it fell into the snow. The other wolves raised their hackles and moved toward him, snarling heavily as the clouds from their breath puffed in front of their snouts.

Jimin took a second to glance at the branch in his hands and quickly assessed that he would be able to get one or two more hits in before it completely snapped. Splinters were lodged into his palms, stinging along his skin. He pushed the pain back as far as he could manage, taking a step forward as his grip tightened around the branch.

“Bree, are you alright?” he asked. He sighed quickly at her nod. When he saw her about to stand, Jimin held his hand out to her. “Stay there!”

The wolves took this as their opportunity to attack and two of them leaped at Jimin. He swung out and hit one of their forelegs, causing the animal to hop back on three legs as it whined. The other wolf went for Jimin’s calf, forcing him to lift his leg up and out of the snow. The injured wolf launched himself from the snow and snapped his jaws. Jimin barely had time to react, using the branch as a shield and watching with horror as it snapped between the wolf’s teeth.

A sharp pain registered on Jimin’s shoulder and he fell forward as another wolf’s weight smacked into his back. Claws dug into his skin beneath his sweater and the white fabric instantly stained crimson as the wolf bit mercilessly down into the meat of his shoulder. Crying out, he struggled to move out of the way as more of the wolves advanced on him.

Bree’s scream brought him out back from nearly drowning in his agony and he looked up in time to see her throwing rocks at the wolves. One of them hit the wolf that was biting him, forcing him to release his grip. They snarled, making their way toward her. Jimin pushed himself up and ran at the wolf closest to her, kicking up a spray of white powder in its face. Without wasting another second, he snatched Bree’s wrist in his bleeding hand and pulled her onto her feet.

They ran like their lives depended on it.

The wolves kicked up snow as they gave chase, barking and snapping their jaws menacingly. Jimin’s vision blurred every so often, but the ensuing stumble quickly brought him back into focus. He tried to maintain his speed while also being conscientious of Bree as he pulled her along. Jimin could just barely hear their heavy breathing over the pounding of his heart.

Jimin believed it was instinct that led him back to the house. Or was it the house itself pulling him by an invisible string? He didn’t question his surroundings and continued to run, his only concern for Bree’s safety. He was ready to force her to leave him behind if necessary.

Bursting through the treeline, they continued to run from their pursuers. The wolves gave chase only so far, however, and stopped completely as they rushed in through the front door. Jimin crashed onto the floor and Bree hurriedly slammed it shut. His breathing was labored as he lay there, his vision coming in and out of focus as he tried to stabilize his racing heartbeat.

“Jimin!”

He could only just barely hear Bree’s voice. It felt so far away. Why did it feel so far away from him?

Something warm touched his back and he instantly took comfort in it. And then his body began to turn over. The sounds of wolf howls echoed through the night, announcing their retreat. They would not indulge in a meal tonight, forced to make due with empty stomachs.

“Are you crazy?!” Bree’s hand swept over his brow, brushing his bangs off his forehead. He couldn’t tell what her expression was, only that it was a mixture of fear and anger. “What were you thinking?!”

Her voice cracked a few times. Jimin could tell she was fighting back against something. But what, he couldn’t be sure. She cupped his cheek with her palm, sending more warm sensations across his entire body.

A hand’s warmth.

It was something that people so often took for granted.

Reaching up, he grasped at Bree’s wrist. “I’m so glad…”

Her face came into focus and he could see the tears sliding down her cheeks. She blinked down at him in confusion. “W-What?”

Jimin smiled. “I’m so glad...I was able to keep your hands...from getting cold.”

Bree sobbed, pulling him closer to her chest while burying her face into the juncture of his neck. “No! Please stop talking! Just...please stop…”

Letting her hand go, he started to pet her wild, curly hair. Bree gasped, pulling back a measure so she could look at him. He was happy she did so. Now he could see her beautiful face.

A strange sensation tingled over his skin, all the way down to the tips of his toes. He shouldn’t have been able to feel anything near his feet. They were more than likely frostbitten by now. But he wiggled them just to be sure, and the tingling feeling continued to increase.

His body started to feel light, the sensation moving around in his stomach, through his lungs, and swirled around the center of his chest. Blinking, he shifted his gaze toward the window and felt his lips part slowly as he watched an aurora paint itself over the darkness.

What? Jimin thought, confusion settling over his heart, What is happening?

The aurora transformed into a pink and purple nebula, the stars swirling from the center until they fanned out in strange, ethereal tendrils. Jimin tried to sit up, but felt he had no control over his body. Only that it was getting lighter and lighter for some reason.

Was the house preparing to jump again? But it was too soon! He still had several more months before it was time.

“What’s going on?” Bree asked, and he looked down to see what she was talking about. Gasping, he could only stare in shock as her body was now visible through his own. “What’s happening?!”

“I...I don’t know.”

Lifting his hands up to his face, he saw the tingling sensation now manifested into tiny glowing particles along his skin. With each passing second, his body grew lighter and more transparent, until he started to float off the ground. Bree tried to grab for him, but to her horror and his own, her hands passed right through him. Jimin moved to touch her, and while he could feel her body, the physical sensation was absent.

Was the curse finally broken?

“No!” he yelled suddenly. The distance between them started to increase and they both attempted to reach for the other in vain, their hands dissolving into one another. “Not yet!”

Jimin’s body lifted higher off the ground and the glowing particles brightened. Bree quickly stood on her feet and he saw Juno appear in between her ankles. The cat meowed in protest as they seemed to get further and further away from him.

“Don’t go!” shouted Bree as she tried to jump and reach for him, but he was too far away.

Was this really the end?

“I love you!” Jimin yelled suddenly, causing Bree to stop her attempts to pull him back.

She blinked up at him. “J-Jimin…”

A sad smile formed on his lips. This was inevitable. There was nothing they could do to stop this. He was going back to his own time now; to his own world.

“I love you so much…”

Bree gasped, covering her mouth. But when it seemed he would pass through the ceiling, she lowered her hands and flashed the same sad smile back up to him.

“...I love you too.”

And as though those were the magic words, everything quickly disappeared around him. The house, Bree, the cat. Everything was replaced with a swirling galaxy of stars and a colorful galaxy. A harsh wind pushed through his body, pulsing over the plane of his skin, and he felt his tears spilling from his eyes. Time slowed and sped up simultaneously and he curled himself into a ball, burying his face in his hands as he sobbed.

Jimin should have been elated. He was going back to his time. Things were going to finally fit themselves into the right place. All the pieces of the puzzle were found.

But at that moment, Jimin felt more alone than he had in all the years he’d spent in that house.

Because he’d loved and lost in what felt like a single snapshot of time.

His curse was lifted, but he felt emptier than he’d ever been.

To Jimin, his true curse was only just beginning.

62 notes · View notes

mopeytropey · 5 years ago

Text

What if I told you that I received so many lovely messages about fond apu memories and autumnal weather ... that I felt inspired to write some bonus content about our two, favorite beer nerds?

Well, you’re in luck. Because I did.

“Hey, babe!”

Clarke’s voice greets her from out of sight as Lexa toes off her running shoes without bothering to untie them. She deposits them neatly, beside a pair of Clarke’s shoes, against the wall of the entryway as the front door clicks shut. Frank, their recently adopted rescue, comes skittering across the tiled flooring in a bundle of excitement, panting and pushing his cold, black nose into Lexa’s calf muscle. Squatting to her haunches with a grin, she scratches the ringlets of white fur behind his lopsided ears.

When she rounds the open doorway into the kitchen, Clarke is stood at the island chopping fresh herbs. The air is fragrant and the kitchen is warm, awash in bright, morning sunlight that reflects off the harbor. Music plays softly and Clarke is radiant. Lexa smiles.

“Hey.”

“How was the run?” Clarke asks without looking up from the cutting board.

Lexa heads for the fridge to remove a canteen of water. “It was good. The temperature along the water is perfect today.”

“I miss summer,” Clarke sighs and nearly pouts.

“You love the fall.” Lexa takes small, measured sips then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s your most preferred season. You haven’t stopped talking about the foliage along High Street for weeks.”

“Still, I miss summer. The boat. The beach.”

“Clarke, it was practically summer weather last weekend. We were on the boat for hours on Saturday.”

Clarke’s pout intensifies. “Bikinis.”

This produces an actual laugh, and Lexa shakes her head. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll parade around in swimsuits in the dead of winter. You keep it warm enough in here.”

Clarke’s face breaks into a bright smile as she looks up from her chopping. “Promise?”

Lexa smiles as she takes a longer sip of ice-cold water from her canteen. Clarke is dressed for the brunch they’ll be hosting shortly. Casual in her striped sleeveless top and fitted jeans, but nicer than her typical Sunday morning wardrobe of pajama shorts and baggy tee shirts. Nice enough for Lexa to take notice.

“It smells good in here,” she says, moving closer to where Clarke is stood chopping. A hand finds its way beneath the loose hem of Clarke shirt as Lexa’s mouth softly touches Clarke’s bare shoulder. “And, you look nice.”

“Oh my god—you’re so sweaty.” Clarke squirms from Lexa’s touch with a laugh, all the more incentive to move in closer, bodily pinning her against the edge of the island. “Lexa!”

Laughing, she finally steps away as Clarke turns from the counter with an expression that some might mistake for exasperation. Three years on, Lexa knows better. Still smiling, she takes another pull off the water bottle before using the hem of her shirt to wipe the perspiration from her face and neck.

“I’m going to shower.”

“Good, you stink,” Clarke laughs, poking a finger against Lexa’s bared abdomen just before her damp running shirt drops back into place. “And, your shirt is soaked. I love you, but I’m not changing my outfit just because all that adrenaline has made you handsy.”

Lexa heads for the stairs with a laugh. “Drenched in sweat from a long run used to do it for you, you know.”

She pulls her shirt over her head as she climbs, stopping at the landing to turn towards Clarke who has trailed behind her and paused at the base of the spiral staircase.

“Oh, I’m definitely still appreciating the view … from afar.”

Lexa’s aim is impeccable. The damp shirt hits Clarke square in the face as she squeals in disgust, and Frank barks while dancing at her feet. Lexa laughs all the way to the shower.

:::

“Better?”

Clarke looks up from the big block cutting board with a smile as Lexa shuffles into the kitchen for a second time. She is now slicing strawberries and mangoes, and Lexa does a slow spin as if to show off her clean clothes and freshly blow-dried curls.

Clarke leans forward, wordlessly requesting a quick kiss, and then hums against Lexa’s mouth when she closes the distance. “Well, you definitely smell better,” she says as they separate.

“What can I do?” Lexa surveys Clarke’s array of prep stations along the island countertop—freshly diced fruit, ramekins of chopped herbs, and blocks of cheese, waiting to be grated. Aromas of ground coffee brewing and warm pastries baking have begun to fill the kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

She is still mostly relegated to making fried eggs and grilled cheese sandwiches for them to eat, but over the years Lexa has found her place in the kitchen. Clarke is as efficient as she is talented as a home chef, but she always appreciates Lexa’s company as she cooks. She often works alongside Clarke as an adequate sous chef.

“Grate that cheese for me, and I’ll do dirty things to you later.”

Lexa responds to Clarke’s titillating grin with an arched brow and smirk of her own. “Go on.”

“Honestly, after we survive this brunch, I fully plan to do dirty things with you either way.” Clarke widens her grin and bats her eyelashes. “But, the grating would still be very much appreciated.”

Lexa returns her smile while reaching for a wedge of cheese. “Okay, how much of these do you need?”

“I would do half a block of the gruyere and fontina, go heavy on the sharp cheddar.”

Lexa begins her task, dropping a few shreds of cheese to the floor where Frank sits expectantly, tail wagging against the wood floors like a miniature dry mop.

“I saw that.”

Lexa smiles over at Clarke, whose eyes remain on her knife as it deftly slices a strawberry. “Saw what?”

Moments of comforting silence pass, and then Clarke releases a long-suffering sigh. “Is it too early to start drinking?”

“What’s got you feeling so anxious?”

“I’m not anxious just … anticipatory.”

“Well, you’re certainly acting anxious,” Lexa counters. And then, her voice softens to gentle concern. “We’ve hosted brunch a hundred times, Clarke.”

“Okay, but you know this brunch, in particular, is going to be different. You don’t feel at all anxious?”

Poised to respond, Lexa sets down the cheese grater and opens her mouth just as Clarke continues to ramble on with her train of thought.

“Of course you don’t feel anxious—you’re the most even-keeled person I’ve ever met. How many times in your life have you been nervous about anything? Twice?”

Smiling warmly, Lexa shrugs. “At least three times.” Her eyes slide to the bowl of fruit that she knows Clarke has been marinating in a light but sugary glaze of orange liqueur. “How much of that fruit do you think we’d have to eat to feel a little drunk? Or, I could slip some amaretto into your coffee.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Clarke laughs. “You know that if Abby shows up to a social event and can tell that I’ve been drinking before any guests have arrived, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Lexa moves in closer, and this time, feels Clarke sink against her as arms coil around her waist. She kisses Clarke’s hairline, the skin of her shoulder. Tender endearments that she has expressed hundreds of times. She inhales as Clarke exhales, a synthesis of their familiar proximity.

This feels different, Lexa thinks.

There is a subtle distinction that buzzes through her, warming her skin and causing her stomach to flutter. An embrace that could be almost perfunctory at this stage, is somehow much more. She wonders briefly if Clarke feels it too.

“I love you.”

“That helps,” Clarke mumbles, having nestled into the crook of Lexa’s neck and shoulder.

Lexa takes a quick breath, settling the nerves that she conceals too well. “And, Frank loves you too.”

She glances down to the floor, Clarke’s gaze quickly following, to see their fluffy companion bumping against their shins, not wanting to be left out of the affection.

“Oh, I love you too, Frank!” Clarke squats, cooing as she accepts sloppy kisses and scoops the small, eager pup into her arms, her anxieties momentarily forgotten.

:::

“Which one of you is pregnant?”

“Raven …”

Clarke is always scolding, exasperated, appalled, or any combination of all three, and Lexa doesn’t know why she still bothers. In all the years that she’s known her, Raven has never once been cowed to socially appropriate conversations no matter the reprimand.

“Don’t get mad at me—you’re the one who’s acting weird.” Raven sits across from them with a calculating stare, flanked by Lincoln and Anya and wielding her fork like a weapon. The tines point accusingly at she and Clarke as Raven says, “Something is up.”

Lexa’s gaze flicks to Anya for any hint of culpability. To no surprise, her face remains placid and untelling.

Clarke rolls her eyes. “I’m not pregnant!”

“Esquire?”

“No one is pregnant,” Clarke reiterates.

The oblong dining table is overflowing with food and drinks. Clarke’s mother, who sits beside Lexa, makes an appreciative sound as she takes a bite of quiche.

“This is wonderful, Clarke.”

Clarke offers a grateful smile for Abby’s efforts to redirect the conversation, but the end result is predictably futile. Raven’s lines of questioning are often like a speeding, unmanned freight train. Virtually unstoppable.

“The food really is excellent,” Lincoln echoes with his soft smile.

“Quiet, you,” Raven snaps playfully. “Come on, Griffin. Spill.”

Beneath the table, Lexa finds Clarke’s fingers.

“We wanted you all here to tell you that—“ Clarke exhales, squeezing Lexa’s fingers. “Lexa and I got married.”

The house falls quiet for three, tense seconds, and then Octavia speaks, her voice taking on a sharp tone of mistrust.

“You mean you’re getting married.”

“We were married last week,” Lexa corrects with an easy smile.

Octavia blinks slowly, her gaze calculating between the two of them. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Clarke answers, the waver in her voice beginning to settle now that they’ve aired this secret to their closest friends. “In New York.”

Early autumn in her city. Lingering summer warmth but with a touch of color on all the trees in the parks. The promise of changing seasons ahead. Clarke stood in the courthouse in jeans and one of Lexa’s favorite tee shirts, wearing the brightest smile Lexa has ever seen. It was nothing she had ever planned for herself and somehow everything she had ever wanted in a ceremonial exchange of vows. That it was Clarke sat beside her, signing her name just below Lexa’s, no doubt made all the difference.

“You run away to New York,” Raven is saying, “exchange some secret nuptials, slink back into town as if nothing has changed—“

“Okay, you’re being a little dramatic. The plan wasn’t really that nefarious,” Clarke says.

“—and then wait an entire week to tell us?”

Lexa tries very hard not to be entertained by Raven’s exasperation, but she finds herself fighting a smile as Clarke’s best friend struggles to work out the new information.

“You were on that extended project at work,” Clarke reminds her.

“I was in Rhode Island, not orbiting in space.”

“To be fair,” Octavia chimes in, “you never check your phone when you’re locked into a project.”

“You could have texted me,” Raven argues.

“I wasn’t going to tell you that I got married over text!”

Lexa watches the pure shock and mild affront ebb from Raven’s features. “Oh my god, you’re married.”

“Yeah,” Clarke smiles, squeezing again to Lexa’s fingers.

“Hang on, why are you not more shocked by this?” Raven has turned her attention to Abby, who sits at Lexa’s right-hand side.

“Oh,” Clarke clears her throat after finishing a sip of her mimosa. “My mom was there.”

“Clarke asked for my discretion,” Abby responds calmly. “Of course I deferred to hers and Lexa’s wishes.”

“I can’t believe,” Raven says to Abby in dismay, shaking her head like an unforgiving betrayal, “after all these years, you’re still playing favorites with Clarke by keeping secrets from your other children.”

At this, Abby laughs and the atmosphere around the table decompresses. Lincoln extends his glass across the table towards Lexa.

“Cheers, buddy. Welcome to the club.”

“Thanks.” Lexa smiles, clinking their glasses together. Clarke’s hand is still in hers, and Lexa’s palm suddenly perspires.

“Yeah, took you two long enough.” Octavia’s grin is smaller, more resigned, but she too extends her glass to join Lexa’s and Lincoln’s.

“Can you estimate just how long you plan to sulk about this?” Clarke is saying to Raven as everyone else tucks into their food.

Raven clicks her tongue, though she is smiling as she says, “Ten, fifteen years tops.”

Anya has had her arm draped carelessly along the back of Raven’s chair since they sat down, and now briefly runs her fingers across Raven’s shoulder cap. “Relax, I got some pretty nice photos of the courthouse I can show you.”

Raven nearly flinches in surprise. “You were—ugh, of course you were there.” She huffs in defeat, rolling her eyes and reaching for her half-empty glass of champagne and orange juice (heavy on the champagne). “Okay, somebody needs to get me a refill because I need all the details and this mimosa is going to go down quickly.”

“It was simple and more-or-less unplanned,” Clarke explains with an easy sigh. “We drove down last weekend to visit Gus. My mom was already there on business, and … it just felt right.”

Lexa picks up the thread where Clarke leaves off. “We chose the courthouse where Gus signed the papers to make my adoption official.” She looks at Clarke, heart flapping wildly. “It was nice.”

Something softens in Raven’s features at Lexa’s words, and she exhales as Anya is refilling her glass. “Okay, that is some cute shit.”

“You sure you’re not mad at me?” Clarke frets.

“Of course I’m not mad at you, dumbass. You surprised the ever-loving hell out of me, but—I mean, jesus, you two have been grossing us out as a married couple for years.”

Clarke blows a kiss at her from across the table. “Next time I get married on a whim, I’ll text you.”

The humor drops from Raven’s face as she places a hand flat against the table. “I swear on my love of science, Clarke, if you ever soil this marriage with Esquire, I will seriously consider blocking your number indefinitely.”

Lexa grins, oddly comforted by Raven’s threatening tone. “Thanks, Reyes.”

“I’m obviously kidding!” Clarke leans over to kiss the line of Lexa’s jaw as if to underscore her joke.

“Okay, so let’s hear it. Tell me more,” Raven demands.

Lexa smiles, remembering the day. “Gus took us out for ramen afterwards.”

“Then I took them out for shots,” Anya says.

“It really was quite lovely,” Abby chimes in, understandably eager to finally have the freedom to speak of their nuptials. “The courthouse, I mean. And dinner. I’d rather not know about all the drinking that followed.”

“Aw come on, Mama Griffin. You know you’ve got some good kids,” Octavia says.

Abby agrees without hesitation. “The very best.”

Lexa feels her chest bloom with warmth to be included in the sentiment, and luckier still to have acquired such a profoundly superior family.

:::

Clarke, her mother, and their other guests have moved into the sitting room while Lexa tidies the kitchen. Still within earshot, she listens for the bright notes of Clarke’s laughter and curbs her own smile at the sound. Anya hands her items off the dining table while Lexa wraps the leftovers and loads the dishwasher. The routine between them is practiced and familiar, running through motions they have done together since childhood.

“Keeping this little secret of yours is going to have me in the dog house. No offense, Frank.” Anya looks to the dog that has fallen asleep near their feet where she and Lexa are leaned against the island.

The kitchen now more-or-less spotless, Lexa pushes off the countertop and reaches into the fridge for two beers, popping their lids before offering one to her sister.

“My condolences,” she answers with a grin. “When do you go back?”

“Few days.”

Lexa sips her beer. “Plenty of time to reconcile then. Anyway, she doesn’t seem upset anymore.”

“At you and Clarke, no. At me?” Anya runs a hand through her hair with a long-suffering exhale that brings a smile to Lexa’s face.

She is easily amused by seeing Anya—so stoic, so stable, so disaffected by almost everything else in her life—navigate the delicate nuances of a sustained relationship. Particularly with Raven Reyes.

“What?” Anya scowls as she notices Lexa’s amusement.

Lexa shrugs, finishing another sip of beer. “Nothing. You’re just very domesticated these days.”

“Says the married one.”

Lexa’s stomach jumps as she thinks of Clarke sitting in the next room. “It’s not so bad. You should try it.”

“It’s been seven days, kid. Talk to me in seven years.”

“I will.”

Anya’s narrowed gaze moves from Lexa’s smug confidence to the floor. “Your dog is sleeping beside a Yankees emblem.”

Without turning around, Lexa knows she will find Frank curled around the offensive dog toy—a plush baseball with navy stitching, emblazoned with the infamous logo—that arrived to their house the day after the cursed New York baseball team made the playoffs. Her shoulders tense even as she rolls her eyes.

“It’s a situation that is being handled.”

“It looks like he’s fairly attached to it,” Anya prods.

“The dog’s sight is impaired, Anya. He cannot be held accountable for poor judgement.”

Frank, having lost an eye to irreparable damage before he was rescued, had immediately stolen Lexa’s heart. One look at him at the adoption event earlier that summer, and she knew he belonged with her and Clarke. They have been fairly inseparable ever since.

Anya very nearly smiles. “If you say so.”

“You’re involved in a serious, long-distance relationship with a devout supporter of the Yankees—is this really the fight you want to be having right now?”

A barely audible laugh—just loud enough for Lexa to hear it—and Anya concedes with a bowed head. “Clarke won’t let you throw it away, huh?”

Lexa takes another sip of beer then exhales in frustration, her eyes finally dragging over to Frank and that damn baseball. “No.”

:::

Brunch turns into beers and board games and more coffee, Abby excusing herself after a few hours to rest before her flight the following morning. She leaves them all with lingering hugs, motherly reminders to stay safe, and reiterated congratulations to Clarke and Lexa. By late afternoon, after another round of coffee for their guests, the house is finally empty and quiet, and Clarke collapses onto the sofa with a soft grunt of exhaustion.

Lexa sits at the opposite end, near her feet, and pulls Clarke’s legs into her lap. She begins to mindlessly rub her thumbs into Clarke’s calves as her head tips back and her eyes fall closed. They are peaceful for several minutes before Clarke’s voice scratches out softly.

“That went well.”

Lexa hums. “Raven’s outburst notwithstanding?”

“She was being really dramatic.”

“Have you met Raven before today?”

Clarke laughs, poking her foot into Lexa’s stomach. “Hush.”

At the sound of her laughter, Lexa’s head rolls to the side. She opens her eyes to find Clarke already looking at her with drowsy eyes. “You’re about to fall asleep.”

Clarke hums as Lexa’s hands continue to work against the tense muscles of her legs and feet.

“Is this impending nap just a precursor to you ravaging me later?”

“Mmm. Yes.” As Clarke smiles, her eyes fall closed again. “Need to restore energy.”

“Okay, I’m going to go read for a bit.”

Clarke pouts as Lexa shifts from under her legs and stands beside the couch to stretch her limbs.

“No. Stay and cuddle.”

Lexa bends to kiss Clarke’s protruding lip. “I’ll cuddle you later when we have less clothes on.”

“I feel objectified.” Still with her eyes closed, Clarke finds the crook of Lexa’s elbow, keeping her close with a loose grip.

“You’re welcome,” Lexa smiles, and kisses her again.

:::

It’s just under an hour later, the sky streaking in hues of burnt orange and fading pink, when Lexa glances up from her book to see Clarke shuffling towards her. She is still wrapped in a blanket that she must have grabbed from the sofa during her nap. Lexa smiles at her sleepy frown and places her book on the wide arm of the deck chair just before Clarke crawls onto her lap.

“Hi.”

“Aren’t you cold out here?”

“Much warmer now,” Lexa says, hugging Clarke closer as they shift against the wooden chair to find an optimal snuggling position. “How was the nap?”

“Mmm,” Clarke hums. “Productive.”

Her voice is that fraction of an octave lower, that sensational rasp that sends a tingling chill across Lexa’s shoulders.

“Productive?”

“Yeah, I had a nice dream about my wife.”

Lexa can’t help the small giggle that erupts as the tips of her ears go red. It will take some getting used to—having a wife, being someone’s wife—referring to Clarke as such and hearing the same in return. Thinking of herself in this way still feels a bit like walking around in shoes that are too big for her feet. A week on, and being Clarke’s wife has not yet lost its clumsy weight.

A nervous energy, not unlike the jittery uncertainties that new relationships breed, has been Lexa’s stasis for a solid week. She likens this new adjustment to the flurry of unrestrained feelings she experienced during those early weeks with Clarke. When she first reached for Lexa’s hand in public without warning, or the effort it took to calm her anxious breathing when they undressed each other for the first time. Lexa’s nerves are similarly frayed now, replaying this new epithet in her mind over and over.

My wife.

She focuses instead on Clarke’s potentially filthy dream and clears her throat. “I’d like to hear more about that.”

In response, Clarke laughs against her neck and kisses just below her ear. “I bet you would.”

The next kiss, pressed against Lexa’s mouth, is even more languid, growing a ball of heat in the pit of her stomach. “So, about that dream.”

“Yeah—can we go inside now?” Clarke laughs against her lips, stealing another kiss as Lexa’s hands slip beneath the wooly throw blanket to find an excessive amount of bare skin. “I’m officially cold.”

“Clarke, you’re not wearing any pants.”

“You know I can’t fall asleep in jeans, babe.”

As she stands with a smile, nearly tipping Clarke out of her lap if not for a sure grip, Lexa thinks of all the other things she knows about the woman clinging to her shoulders.

Not just how she takes her coffee or her favorite movie, but the brand of dish soap she prefers and the way her voice shatters just before she cries. The slow rumble of her snores and the color of her eyes when they darken in a flash of anger.

That she is selfless to a fault, often putting her own wellness at risk for the sake of others. She knows the songs that Clarke refuses to listen to because they are such visceral reminders of Jake. Lexa knows when she needs space and the times she will want comfort, even if she is too scared to ask.

These and so many more—the myriad quirks that arise out of sustained intimacy.

Once indoors, Lexa deposits Clarke onto the bed before falling gracelessly beside her in a tangle of limbs.

“So, the big secret’s out. Everyone that matters knows that we’re married.” Lexa swallows. “How do you feel?”

Clarke rolls over with a sigh, her eyes scanning the ceiling above them. “Better. A lot better, actually.”

“Yeah? No turning back now. You’re officially stuck with me.”

Even as she jokes, her heart hammers a steady beat. The light teasing easily drags Clarke’s gaze back to her, and Lexa tempers her smile enough to accept a lingering press of Clarke’s mouth.

She answers as they slowly break apart, her hands latched at the back of Lexa’s neck. “I think we both know I was stuck with you a long time ago.”

:::

#apu ficlet #a pleasant undoing #brewkru!

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lovelyparkers · 4 years ago

Text

training to the max

i meant to post this last night but totally forgot lol

summary: you and peter are training partners on a particularly hot day, making peter very flustered. romanoff!reader, requested <3

warnings: fluff and spice, flustered peter, fighting but like play fighting kinda, 1.6k words

"parker! let's go!" natasha yelled at the boy laying on his stomach watching tv.

"what?"

"it's training time!"

"not to be...rude but, i'd rather not train with you?" he said getting up, but it came out more so a question. there was no denying the fact that natasha made peter visibly scared sometimes. she was strong, stronger than him even, and she beat him up a lot.

she scoffed, "i'm letting you train with y/n today."

peter jumped out of his bed, scurrying to the door where she stood. but nat started off towards the gym, peter stuttering behind her. "wait w-what? y/n? as in your sister? i—"

"yes my sister...who else?" she spat, walking quicker.

"i don't know if that's such a...good idea either." nat turned quickly to the boy at his words, giving him a questioning stare causing peter to abruptly stop.

"why wouldn't that be such a good idea?"

"because! well, i don't know...i'm, awkward around her," he answered.

nat just rolled her eyes, "you teenagers really stress me out. you're training together, let's go, there's nothing to worry about. she likes you plenty much."

"wait what?"

"let's go!" nat continued speeding off to the gym where you already were waiting. your hands were wrapped in white tape, your hair was a mess, and your face was slightly red. the heat was practically unbearable, even in an air conditioned gym.

"where is her?" you asked.

"he's coming. just went to go change, get up."

you got up, stretching, preparing to spar with peter, something you hadn't done before with the boy. he was shy and awkward but it made him adorably cute. he stuttered and blushed when he talked to you, and you were flattered. you liked him to say the least, but that didn't mean you wouldn't beat him up during training.

you were wearing comfortable training clothes which consisted of a sports bra and tight athletic shorts, both in black. it was your color, as was your sister's, and you took after her.

"y/n, don't go crazy alright. i know you want to but he was on edge about sparring with you."

you nodded your head, slightly smirking at the fact that he was on edge. then peter walked in, wearing a tight grey t-shirt and black shorts. he waved at you lowly, taking in your state, standing in the doorway. nat walked over to peter in the doorway, "go on, she won't bite." she nudged peter toward you, causing him to almost trip over his own feet. and as she walked out the door to leave you two to it, she yelled,

"play nice y/n!"

there was an awkward silence, your hands were sat on your hips as you stared at peter, waiting for him. he just shifted his weight from foot to foot, staring at the tiled floor.

"so, wanna get to it?" you asked.

"what?"

"spar?"

"oh...yeah," peter answered. he set down his water bottle and watched you crawl into the square sparring ring before following after you. you stood there, resting your arms on the stretchy bands of the border of the mat. peter stood in the middle, cracking his knuckles against the silence of the room. you rolled your eyes and walked up to him, making him take a step back.

"ready?"

he shook his head 'yes' and you stood in your fighter pose and gave him but a second to get ready before throwing your first punch. he blocked it, senses helping him out of course. he stood, ready to fight as well, but nervous to hit you. he knew you could take him down easily. he has seen you in battle and even sparring with your own sister. it was intense. you were intense.

you hit him next with a roundhouse kick, which he dodged then went right at him with a left jab and right hook which he ducked. then you surprised him with a powerful sidekick and a grunt which he almost took but spun out of the way at the last second. you took a second to compose yourself, waiting for peter to make a move but he didn't. watching you fight, especially with him, was on a whole other level. it was intense and it got him feeling a certain way, seeing you focused and muscles straining and in that outfit.

you quickly threw a double jab and right uppercut which peter again ducked and dodged. you became frustrated and brought your dominant fist back and slammed it forward at him. and to your surprise he caught your wrist and gripped it tight, unable to pull from him. you threw your other fist at him and he caught that too, throwing you off guard and sweeping your legs out from under you and letting you fall to the mat. peter took a break, running a hand through his sweaty hair which gave you enough time to sweep out his legs, grab his wrists and pin him down on the mat. you ankles were pressed into his shins, also keeping him down and he grunted at you.

"hey! nat said—"

"i don't care what nat said," you whispered, getting down closer to his face, "you're making this difficult."

"y/n," he breathed out heavily, "it's just sparring."

you knew that, but you had frustrations, ones that you wanted to let out on him. you sighed, watching peter panting underneath of you. you loosened your grip, allowing him to get up and keep fighting. you decided to attempt one move that your sister taught you: a slide in between the enemy's legs then grabbing them and pulling them down with you. every time you tried it, you failed, as it was on your sister who knew how to stop you. but peter didn't know. so you quickly slid under him and pulled him down successfully, knocking his back onto the mat with a loud thud. peter groaned but got right back up and started throwing punches and kicks at you which you also happened to all dodge. you let him go at you, figuring you would tire him out eventually to take him down again.

he threw one last punch at you, which you caught in your own hand and tilted your head at him, "nice one."

peter pouted and panted a quick "time out." you both hopped out of the ring, all sweaty and tired from fighting and the high temperature. peter trudged over to his water bottle, taking a long sip while staring at you. you were watching him. his grey t-shirt was littered with sweat stains and water droplets that fell down his chin. it was sticking to him uncomfortably, so what better way to fix that than just pulling his shit right off? nothing. so he did exactly that, pulling it over his head almost dramatically, knowing you were definitely watching. he balled up the damp shirt and tossed it on the bench, now staring back at you. you just smiled innocently at the boy who was glistening with sweat and curls that stuck to his forehead.

you pushed your loose hairs out of your face and unscrewed the lid to your water bottle. you took a sip then slowly held the bottle above your head and tipped it so some spilled on your face. you screwed your bottle back up and shook your head to get the excess water off, all while making eyes contact with peter who was leaning against the wall now. his entire face was flushed red and you couldn't tell if it was from the heat, fighting, being flustered from you, or all three. it was mostly from you.

"ready to go again?"

peter nodded and let out a breathless, "uh huh."

the two of you jumped back in the ring and lazily sparred for another ten minute set before peter wanted another break. the vast amount of skin on skin contact between the two of you was apparently too much to handle. "aren't you like superhuman? why do you need all these breaks?"

"because," he said, turning away from you and sipping his water.

"because why?"

"because of you!"

you laughed, acting like you didn't know what you were doing to him, "what?"

"shut up."

"don't tell me to shut up," you snapped, walking towards the boy. you placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping tightly and spinning him to face you. "what's got you so bothered?"

his face was mere inches from yours now, you could feel his hot breath in your face, chest heaving from the heat. "you do. you're-you're like, testing me, i don't know! waiting until i snap or something. like you come in here looking like this," he gestured to your outfit, "and then you're all, sensually pouring water on your face! what are you doing?"

you laughed again, "peter this is perfect normal sparring-wear." you placed your hands on his shoulders and stared right at him, "what's the problem with that? can't handle yourself?"

his jaw tensed as he stared back, then looked down at how close your bodies were. you followed his eyesight, grinning. "maybe i can't handle myself," he finally agreed.

"yeah, looks like you need a cold shower. i can join you if you want."

"y/n."

"what?"

"knock it off," he said, picking up his things, cheeks even redder. you giggled and started to walk out the door of the gym, turning to look at him hopelessly staring you down.

"later parker. still up for that offer."

#peter parker imagine

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star-captain · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 6- The Desert

Previous Chapter

Ecto has joined the game!

------

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Ecto belongs to @ectochoir

Plains give way to sandy soil, and hills turn into sand dunes as Avon and Red continue into the day. Red can feel the heat, the sun beating down onto him, and the sand reflecting the warmth back up. He can’t escape the dryness, the sun. He feels like he’s being cooked alive. No matter how much he drinks, he can’t get rid of the sensation of always being parched. Red looks down at his scales. They’ve gotten itchy, dry to the touch and frail in the heat. He’s not always good at keeping pace with Avon, especially since she has a lot more leg than him, but he’s falling back even more now that they’re in the desert.

Avon has noticed Red’s struggles. She’s already slowed down to compensate for Red’s pace, and cut down on her own water intake to make sure he gets enough. She can feel the strain such a decision is taking on her, but she won’t voice her weakness. And she’s definitely not going to let it show. Avon notes the red appearing on her traveling partner’s face, the dull luster of his scales. She needs to do more.

Sudden shade over Red surprises her. At first, she thinks she’s hallucinating it. People do that in the desert, right? But she can immediately feel the temperature change, the relief in being out of direct sunlight. Red looks up to see what’s protecting her from the sun. It’s one of Avon’s wings, the black membrane stretched to shelter Red. Her wing stretches out completely, guarding the kipling from the sun. Her membrane filters the sunlight, shining through the thin film and exposing the veins beneath the surface.

A massive grin spreads across Red’s face. Beginning with a cheeky smile, her eyes are practically glittering as she turns to see Avon. But Avon acts like nothing is happening, like she isn’t holding her wing out to protect Red from the light. She just keeps walking, the other wing slightly unfolded to balance the open one. But Red keeps smiling. Avon cares enough to keep Red covered from the sun. There’s more to Avon, Red knows it. He’s determined to befriend her on this journey, no matter what.

The desert stretches out in every direction around them. Even when Avon turns back, it’s just more sand. The pair stops in the shade of a dune, just long enough for the both of them to get a drink and for Avon to scope out the land from high above. In the sky, Avon only sees more desert. Dunes rolling like waves across a sea of sand. She looks around for water of any kind. A spring, a well, anything. They’re running out of water, Avon can feel the world starting to get dazed. She tripped taking off. All there is in this wasteland is sand and cactus. They definitely can’t drink the sand, and Avon doesn’t know what kind of reaction they could get by drinking cactus juice. It may quench them, but at what cost?

In the air, Avon can think clearly. It’s as close to a void as she can get, as close to home. She wishes it were night, or a storm to be even better, but she’ll take what she can get. They’re running out of water, and food is becoming scarce. This isn’t the first time Avon has dealt with going hungry, or even the idea of starving. But it’s not fair to put Red through what Avon knows to be painful, not when she volunteered to be here. Volunteered to help. Avon will cut her food, and more of her water so Red isn’t suffering. Red hasn’t noticed so far, hopefully it’ll stay that way.

Avon does a backflip to return to the ground, but halfway through her rotation she notices something in the distance. It’s massive, and there’s more. Cacti taller than hills, scraping the sky. “There’s no way that’s natural.” Avon mutters to herself. It’s not much- it’s not a building or even a tree- but it’s more than she can see in any other direction.

Red is relieved when Avon returns, but also wishing she had stayed on patrol a little longer. Avon being back means they’re going to be walking again. But Red notices that her travel partner has a different look in her eyes. Whereas the past few weeks, her gaze is always in search of something, now it is locked on a point. Fixed to the north. “What did you see?”

“I’m not sure. But we should keep going.” Avon stretches her wing out, and Red scrambles under the shade, grateful to have it.

“Thank you. For this.” Red pokes at Avon’s wing, which causes it to flinch backwards. He’s not sure if it’s ticklish, or if Avon is still adverse to any interaction. Red waits for Avon to respond, but she stays silent. They begin to walk. Avon is set on a certain path, like an arrow shot towards it’s target. Did she see her home? That stronghold thing she spoke of?

Soon enough, Red can see what Avon is after. In the distance, towering green pillars scratch at the sky. They look like the masts of shipwrecks, pointing towards space. But as they near one, Red realizes that they’re cacti. They had seen one when they first entered the desert, and Avon only explained not to touch them. But Red only saw cacti grow a few meters up. Is this like those deep forests that the two wandered through? Where trees grew taller? The pillars grow more frequent, on top of every crest and plain. All towering up, seemingly for no reason.

Avon stops suddenly, stretching her arm out to halt Red. At the base of a cactus in front of them is a brown leather bag. It’s the first sign of another person Avon’s seen this entire journey. She bends down to pick it up. Maybe there’s food in it.

From above, Ecto sees the intruders. Finally, after what feels like weeks of being watched, they showed themselves. She hardly gives another thought before jumping from the pinnacle of her cactus, giving a war cry as she plummets towards the ground. The two look up, the smaller one squinting before her face twists into shock. Their partner has a much faster reaction time. Ecto sees black wings spread out behind the intruder, flapping once, twice before taking off into the air. She collides with Ecto, grabbing her midfall. They tumble through the sky, before the winged girl steadies herself and soars towards the ground.

Ecto thrashes in her grip, refusing to be stolen away like this. Ecto’s strong, but the intruder has enough strength to keep Ecto trapped. At least until they reach the ground. Ecto kicks sand up into her captor’s face, causing her to let go so she can rub away the grains of rock. Ecto makes a small retreat, patting her black pants to see if she’s got anything to defend herself. She doesn’t have a weapon, but she does have torch. She pulls it out, lighting it and waving it at the monster before her. “Get out of my desert, now!”

“Your desert?” The blonde haired girl hisses, wiping away the sand. She pulls out a three pronged weapon, giving it a spin. They both take a defensive stance. Ecto makes the first move, moving across the sand with such speed that it catches her opponent off guard. She just barely misses catching her cloak on fire. In response, the intruder whips her weapon around. It whiffs over Ecto’s head, brushing her black hair back.

“Stop, stop! We don’t mean to intrude, we’re lost!” The other one, much shorter, jumps between the two. While the first one’s wings were strange, this one is even stranger. They have weird shaped ears, cresting like dune peaks, and a massive appendage on their back.

“You two have been here long enough. Go back and stop creeping on me.” Ecto hisses.

“Creeping on you? We’ve been wandering this desert all day, lost.” The warrior steps forward, placing her weapon in front of her partner. Purple eyes glare at Ecto.

Ecto has to admit, it would be hard to miss these two if they were spying on her. Neither exactly fit into the landscape of the desert. They don’t look good either- both look in desperate need of water. Are these not the people who have been spying on Ecto? She scrunches up her nose, frustrated to still have no answers. The winged one speaks up. “We’re looking for somewhere to get water, maybe some food. We’re just passing through.”

“Maybe you can help us!” The shorter one bounces in their boots. Their hair reminds Ecto of her own clothes, black and orange. “There’s no need for us to be prickley with each other. I’m Red, a kipling, and this is Avon. She’s...uh...” Red realizes she never got what Avon was. Is she a bad friend for not knowing that? “Well, we’re looking for Avon’s End portal, so she can go home.”

Ecto looks at the two. “You’re looking for a portal? You’re in luck, I found one a few days back. Or was it a few weeks?” Red squeals and jumps, tugging Avon along after Ecto. “I’m Ecto, the human.”

She looks at the two strangers. Not only are these two an odd pair physically, but they act like complete opposites emotionally as well. Red is bubbly, friendly and chittering like a songbird. Definitely not someone who would be spying on Ecto- she doesn’t think Red could keep quiet that long. Avon, on the other hand, has hardly spoken at all. Her face is shadowed by secrecy, not a single muscle giving away what she’s thinking or feeling.

The three clamber up a few dunes, and Red joyously starts to converse with Ecto. He asks about Ecto’s life in the desert, where she lives, how she stays cool. Red even admires her scarves, wrapped around her as protection if a sandstorm appears or the sun gets too much to bear. But it’s Avon that asks the question Ecto was waiting for.

“What’s with the pillars of cacti?” Her voice doesn’t convey much, though at the end of her sentence Ecto notes a hint of curiosity in the inflection.

“I like cacti.” Ecto shrugs, then continues on. They climb up another dune, to which Ecto stops at the peak. She shades her eyes as she looks across the desert. Ecto bites her lip as shes sees an anvil-shaped cloud in the distance. The last thing she needs right now is a desert storm. Endless lightning, and a downpouring of rain- storms like this don’t happen often, but when they do it can be devastating. They’ll completely change the landscape, sweeping away months of Ecto’s hard work by tumbling her towers. She needs time to prepare her own home for it. For the potential to flood, of a cave in.

She needs to show them this portal the two are after. The only problem is...Ecto forgot where it was. She can’t see it anywhere in her field of view, and she doesn’t have any cacti left to build a tower to aid her search. To add insult to injury, the storm looks to be gaining on them. Fast. She slides down the dune without ever losing her footing, turning back to check on the two following her. Avon simply flutters down rather than dealing with the sand, but Red stumbles and eventually skids down on his butt to the bottom of the dune. As soon as the two are standing again, Avon opens her wing to cover Red. Neither of them look very good.

“Here, have some water.” Avon is surprised to see Ecto pull out a canteen of water, opening the cap. At first, she’s not sure if she should trust it. It could be a trap, Ecto did attack her on sight. But hearing the liquid slosh around inside, she can already feel it in her parched, dry mouth.

“Let Red drink first. He needs it.” Ecto hands the drink off to Red, who bounces with excitement to receive the water. Avon waits patiently as he drinks, then gulps some down as well. She makes sure some is left for the other two. Thunder rolls across the desert, echoing off the sand. Angry, tall grey clouds loom above them. Threatening to let loose all of its power, pour down rain and strike out lightning. If it really is an End portal, then they can be safe underground as the storm rolls in. There won’t be Ender Eyes though, and this is definitely not the biome that she has made her home in.

The three travelers continue through the desert, the storm only growing stronger and closer. Wind begins to pick up the sand, blowing it around and forming small dust devils that prance among the dunes. Ecto pulls up her mask, covering her face from the dust. Avon turns her wing to face the wind and block the stinging sand from hitting Red while pulling her cloak closer. Red stumbles every so often from the wind pushing him around.

It’s not until lightning strikes the pinnacle of a nearby monolith that Ecto stops, and Avon shouts over the thunder and wind. “Where is the portal? Are you just leading us around to nothing?”

Ecto sighs, more displeased than annoyed. “I forgot where it is.”

#wandering stars #ecto #avon #red #mcsona #minesona #minecraft #persona #sona #not my sona #writing #mineblr #writeblr #minecraft desert

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elfrootaddict · 4 years ago

Text

GROWING PAINS - Chapter 1/6

DESCRIPTION: Change. Growth. Hard truths. As the Inquisition’s Lady Herald, El’lana must step-up and help establish the orders’ influence. Many lessons are learnt and life-altering decisions are made.

SERIES: Halla & Wolf

VOLUME: 4

The month of Firstfall has come around once again in Ferelden and the locals of the Hinterlands are lucky enough not to experience the full-blown, snowy winters of those back in Haven. Nevertheless, the massive expanse of rocky hillside still experiences the icy chilled winds from the Frostback mountains, reminding the locals that no corner of Ferelden can ever truly escape the country’s infamous winter temperatures.

With Liliana’s scouts guiding their path, the trek to the Hinterlands was easy enough to accomplish. Lana, Cassandra, Varric and Solas were able to get to their destination with relative ease and good speed.

During the day, the conversations between the companions were sparse and polite. Each one trying to save their energy for the long journey they had to make each day by foot. By nightfall, they would quietly share their rations over a small inconspicuous fire, so as to not get any unwanted attention, and then head straight for their tents to get a good night’s rest for an early rise.

And even though nobody wanted to stay up in the freezing night’s sky and talk, neither one of them quite knew what to say to the other in any way. With the diverse range of cultural, religious and somewhat mysterious differences between the unusual party, neither one of them quite knew how to break the conversational barrier in the first place.

Therefore, all they could focus on was the one thing they all have in common - to seal the Breach in the sky. And so it is this reason, and this reason only, that Lana the inexperienced Dalish, Cassandra the devout Andrastian, Varric the charming rogue and Solas the esoteric mage, have come together to seek out the potential help of Mother Giselle. A Revered Mother of the Chantry who has insisted on staying in the Hinterlands to help the refugees caught in the middle of the mage-templar war.

Lana and her companions eventually reach the top of a wide, flat outlier of ground just below the rocky plateau of Lake Luthias. They then catch a glimpse of an Inquisition tent nestled amongst the trees and the group simultaneously release a sigh of relief as they realise they have finally reached the Upper Lake Camp.

Lana finds herself admiring the inconspicuous camp, and feels its location is perfectly situated. As she catches her breath, Lana starts looking around the snuggled campsite and decides to take in her surroundings;

On the left, against the embankment of the plateau are massive boulders running all the way along the side and into the distant forest. To Lana’s pleasant surprise, she notices a small waterfall running into a large, shallow, crystal clear pond with lush green lily pads, and spindleweed scattered all along the water’s edge. However, on the right and several paces away from camp, lies a death-defying edge that overlooks almost all of the northern Hinterlands.

Having lived all her life amongst nature as well as helping the Keeper decide on a new place for when her clan needed to move, Lana finds herself impressed by such a good location for a camp. She even feels somewhat proud of this young, virtuous organisation spreading their influence so quickly and putting their words into action. Which isn’t something Lana is accustomed to, being Dalish.

As proud as she is to be Dalish, Lana knows that the only thing her people have ever truly accomplished is to merely talk about the past and preserve their magic. There has never been an expectation to actually do anything to improve their lives. Just simply ensure they do not forget.

And while she may wholeheartedly agree that preserving the little knowledge her people have left to remember is excruciatingly important, she has nevertheless always itched to do more than just talk and preserve the past.

Suddenly a young, plain dwarf with soft freckles to match her auburn hair, and striking green eyes, walks towards Lana and her companions cheerfully, “Lady Cassandra, I’m glad to see you’ve all made it. Welcome to the Upper Lake Camp. I’m Scout Harding.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Scout Harding,” greets Cassandra as she extends a polite bow to the dwarf. “Is it the war we’re hearing down below?”

“I’m afraid so. The mage-templar war has spread far. We believe the templar’s strong hold is just west of here, near the river. They’ve probably found a good flat area to build camp somewhere upstream which is tucked away and off the main road. The mages have been sighted directly north. I’m assuming they’ve found one of the caves nearby.”

“Maker, you seem to know alot about this area.” quips Varric with an impressed chuckle.

“I grew up here,” explains Scout Harding proudly. “As a kid I would always go exploring and I haven’t quite stopped since.”

“Well then,” adds Cassandra with a sincere sigh of relief. “I can see why Liliana has put you in charge of these scouts. It's a pleasure to have you on board. Let me introduce the rest of the team,” and turns to face each companion as she calls out their name, “This is Solas. A mage who has proven not only to be helpful, but cooperative since the day the Breach came into the sky. This is Varric Tethras. He’s…” Cassandra pauses as she tries her best to find polite words to describe the man who has only made her life hard and strenuous. “A rogue. He’s excellent with his bow.”

“Her name is Bianca,” adds Varric defensively. “And she’s more than just a bow. Don’t mind Cassandra miss Harding, we just have a bit of history. Don’t we, Seeker?”

Cassandra groans and rolls her eyes before moving on, “And this, is mistress Lavellan. The Herald of Andraste.”

“It is an honour to meet you, Herald,” remarks Scout Harding with a respectful bow as Lana steps slightly closer to the front of the party. “I heard rumours that the Herald was an elf, but I didn’t quite believe it. Until now, of course.”

Lana’s cheeks flash to a soft pink, “Oh?”

“Please, don’t get me wrong!” cries Scout Harding apologetically. “I’m not saying that it's a bad thing. I’m just saying you’re a bit of a surprise.”

Lana releases a soft smile and laughs, “Trust me. I’m more surprised than anyone.”

Suddenly a scout approaches the party in a hurry, “Lady Cassandra, there is a letter here for you.”

Cassandra tales the letter from the young scout. “Thank you,” and turns back around to regard her party. “Excuse me, please. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Of course,” adds Scout Harding and turns to Lana with her piercing green eyes. “In the meantime, you should know that the mage-templar war is very close by. We’ve already had a few strays from both sides try to infiltrate this camp but luckily we’ve managed to hold them off.”

Lana slowly turns around to see if Scout Harding is actually talking to her. She may have the mark on her hand, which will help close rifts, but she is in no way shape or form able to handle the responsibility of making decisions regarding the Inquisition. She’s just the Dalish elf. Isn’t she?

“How eh…” mumbles Lana eventually as she clears her throat. “Bad is the fighting?”

Was that the right question?

“It’s pretty bad,” answers Scout Harding with a heavy heart. “The valley below is where most of the fighting happens, and sometimes all the way through the night. A lot of people have had to leave their homes because of it. Everything is destroyed.”

Listening to Scout Harding’s story makes Lana’s heart ache as she imagines what she would be feeling if this was happening in the Free Marches, “I’m sorry this is happening to your home, Scout Harding. This must be really hard for you.”

“Thank you for saying that,” murmurs Harding with a sincere smile. “And yes, it isn’t easy seeing this place desecrated with such violence. Forcing hundreds of innocent people to leave the homes they’ve had for generations. Luckily, we’ve got the Inquisition though, right? Hopefully we’re going to set things right again.”

“Yes,” murmurs Lana with a gentle smile. “I hope we can.”

“Would you mind following me, Lady Herald?” asks Scott Harding. “I can show you the lay of the land before you head down there tomorrow.”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

Once Scout Harding turns around and heads towards the forest, Lana quickly spins on her heel to regard Solas and Varric behind her. With wide, panicked tricken eyes, Lana suggestively begs them to come along with her. The two men turn to each other and share a quick smirk amongst themselves at Lana’s reluctance to take lead, and proceed to follow along at a respectable distance. Remaining close enough to hear what Scott Harding has to say, but not too close that Harding would be addressing all three of them at once.

One way or another, Lana is going to have to realise that with her mark and divine title bestowed upon her, people will look to her not only for hope but for guidance, too. Whether she likes it or not.

Now several paces in the thickets of the forest, Harding, Lana, Varric and Solas eventually reach a clearing that looks out onto the Hinterlands below. The setting sun illuminating the sky with bright pink and orange hues.

“Do you see that hill in the east?” begins Scout Harding. “Just beyond it you’ll find Mother Giselle in a tiny village. The village is tucked away, so you shouldn’t come across any fighting,” Harding pauses and looks up at Lana with concern. “But you never know, so keep your staff close.”

“How do we get to the village from here?”

“Well, you have two ways from here but I would suggest the second; leave camp the same way you entered but stick east. You’ll pass Calenhad’s Foothold on your left which will then lead you all the way down a path that will head north, and at the end of that path will be the village. It won’t take you long to get there and this way you can avoid entering that valley below us.”

Lana looks out to the valley and hears the faint cries of dying men and the smell of burning wood, “Thank you, Scout Harding,” mumbles Lana eventually. “You’ve been really helpful.”

“You’re welcome,” remarks Harding as she offers a sincere, respectful bow. “I’m going to head back to camp. We already have a tent ready and waiting for you and your party as well as a warm meal by the fire. It’s one of my mother’s actually - the recipe - you’ll love it I’m sure.” and turns to leave, disappearing into the trees behind them.

Varric and Solas notice Lana continue staring out onto the valley below and decide to give her some space, and turn back to unpack.

As Lana glazes out, she can see small flashes of magic light up the almost dark valley below. If she didn’t know any better, she could have mistaken them for small fireworks being used in some kind of celebration. Perhaps for a wedding or—

“Herald?”

But it wasn’t a wedding or some other abrotary celebration the people commune over here in the South. The undeniable sound of battle and cries of dying men and women are just far too hard to ignore. Templars killing mages and mages killing templars.

No. Not killing . Murder. It’s simply cold, blooded murder.

“Herald, I believe there was more Scout Harding told you?”

Cassandra walks up to Lana’s side and notices her distressed and distractive gaze over the horizon, and realises that Lana is in no mind to talk strategies. The true horror and panic in young Lana’s large, lavender eyes is impossible to ignore, and Cassandra finds herself sympathising over the naive, inexperienced elf.

Cassandra takes in a large breath before exhaling, looks out towards the horizon, and changes the subject to the real matter at hand, “I have found that war usually does not determine who is right - but only who is left,” murmurs Cassandra as she solemnly turns back to regard Lana and pauses. “You haven’t killed anyone before… have you?”

“Is it that obvious?” murmurs Lana as she finally breaks her gaze and looks down towards her bare feet wrapped in leather.

“Not unless you have seen that look upon your face many times before,” admits Cassandra with furrowed brows. “I had months of training before I killed someone for the first time. When I was still a Seeker, I saw many of my fellow brothers and sisters go through the same vigorous training as I did. They were always so confident in the confines of our Order’s walls, but when the day came for them to put their training to use, they all had the same look in their eyes that you do now.”

“And... did they do it?” murmurs Lana still looking towards the ground. “When it came down to it?”

“They did. The months of training takes over your need to run in the other direction. You almost feel as if you have no control over your own body anymore, and you are simply doing what you have been trained to do many times before. Strike down your enemy or die trying. It was as simple as that.”

Lana looks up at Cassandra with fearful eyes for only a moment before turning her gaze back down, “I don’t think… I don’t think I can do it... if it comes down to it. I can’t take another person’s life,” and pauses for a significant amount of time before looking fiercely back at Cassandra with her voice trembling. “I won’t. I won’t do it.”

Cassandra drops her head as she releases a loud, heavy sigh, “Then you would rather be the one who dies? Instead of the person trying to kill you in return?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I understand that life as a Dalish has provided you some kind shelter, and I can see that your Keeper took great care in ensuring your clans safely, but you are no longer within the confines of your clan, Herald. Those mages or templars will not hesitate to kill anyone they deem a threat.”

“I know. It’s just…they’re people. Their lives matter. And I don’t want to be the one responsible for taking their life,” Lana turns to meet Cassandra’s subtly surprised expression, “Oh I know, because I’m Dalish and an elf I’m supposed to think we are above everyone else in Thedas, right? Well, I wasn’t raised to think like that. The Keeper always taught me to respect all living creatures in this world. From the worms in the earth to the birds in the sky. You humans or dwarves may not believe in my gods, and yes we have a messy history, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter. We all matter.”

Cassandra drops her head and sighs, “While I appreciate the sentiment, Herald,” and points her finger to the valley down below. “But that won’t stop them from trying to kill you. Not everyone can afford the luxury of sticking to their morals in times of war.”

The two women break eye contact and gaze back out towards the horizon once again. The sun is almost completely set and the stars are beginning to shine peacefully above, completely undisturbed by the chaos down below.

With the posture of an experienced soldier, but with a heavy heart, Cassandra turns back to regard Lana carefully, “You are the Herald of Andraste, and only you can seal the rifts. You simply cannot die. You are far too valuable to allow yourself to be killed over your morals - however virtuous they may be,” and before walking away completely, she turns back around to meet Lana’s gaze and sternly murmurs. “If you will not kill another to save your own life, then do it to save the thousands of innocent people across Thedas who rely on you. Do it for them.”

As Lana watches Cassandra disappear into the night, she turns back around towards the horizon and notices how quiet it has suddenly fallen. There are no more flashes of magic or cries of dying templars or apostates. Just deafening silence.

Which could only mean one thing - everyone who was fighting is either dead or dying from their wounds in the cold, winter night. Praying to whomever they believe in to offer them a peaceful passage to a better afterlife, and swearing curses on those responsible for their demise.

The dying people haunt Lana’s mind as she imagines them now lying alone, choking on their own blood without a single loved one by their side. Their final resting place being a battlefield that is littered with who knows how many grotesquely cut down or burnt corpses.

Did they have a lover? Children? Parents? Surely not all of them are vicious monsters everyone claims them to be?

Lana takes a deep breath and decides to head back to camp before it gets too dark. The sound of Harding’s mother’s meal is exactly what she needs right now, and could use some conversation over a warm fire to distract her mind over tomorrow.

As Lana reaches camp, she notices the number of soldiers and scouts helping the Inquisition, and if it came to it, would perhaps even sacrifice their lives for it. They have all chosen to help close the Breach and restore order by leaving their loved ones behind. Everyone in this camp is willing to sacrifice themselves to ensure the safety of Thedas. How could Lana not do the same?

They do not have a mark on their hand to close rifts, and yet here they are. They aren’t called the Herald of Andraste, and yet here they are. For all she knows, Lana also might not be the only one here who hasn’t killed before, and yet... here they are.

Realising the extent of choices and sacrifices made by the very people surrounding her, she begins to feel less remorse over the deaths of the people down in the valley who are only spreading more chaos. Suddenly, her empathy towards their deaths begins to fade ever so slowly as she imagines the destruction they have left in their paths.

Are these not the same people who burnt down and slaughtered innocents in pursuit of their cause to seek justice? Are these not the same people who attacked innocent farmers, merchants and children who did absolutely nothing to justify the defilement of their land and home? And are these not the same people who left hundreds of others destitute and turned into refugees?

Lana’s heart and stomach begin to turn over the conflicting nature of war - who is right and who is wrong? And that is when Cassandra’s wise, and truthful words return to Lana’s mind:

War does not determine who is right - only who is left.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Halla & Wolf Series

#ElfrootAddict's Halla & Wolf Series #ElfrootAddict's Growing Pains #ElfrootAddict's El'lana Aemma Lavellan #Solas #Varric Tethras #Cassandra Pentaghast #Scout Harding #Hinterlands #Dragon Age #Dragon Age Inquisition #dragon age fan fic #fanfiction

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