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realcube · 4 years

Text

comforting you during a thunderstorm ⛈

summary: you’re not much of a scaredy-cat but you do have an immense fear of thunder storms which you didn’t tell him about. so this is how he comforts you

characters: saiki k, bokuto, suna

tw// thunderstorms, hurt/comfort

thanks to anon for the wholesome request 🥺 this reminds me of ohshc & i love it so much 💞

Kusuo Saiki

he just popped downstairs to bid farewell to his mother before she headed out to buy groceries, leaving you and him home alone

he didn’t even notice the thunderstorm, until his mom mentioned it

‘oh, i have to walk to the bus-stop in this horrible weather. is there anyway you could make it stop, ku?’

as much as he wanted to say ‘yes, but i cba. cope.’ he just blurted out a ‘no.’ before heading back up to his room

he didn’t think you were scared of anything tbh

i mean you killed a cockroach for him one time so you were basically a fearless god, in his eyes

so imagine his surprise when he walked into his room and..you were gone

he was confused for a moment until he heard faint sobs and whimpers from inside his closet

he slid the door open to reveal you cowering in the corner with your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried between them, sniffing and only moving when you had to use your hand to wipe away the tears that poured from your eyes and threatened to stain your leggings

‘i go for a minute and this is what happens-- are you crying?’

that was when you realised that saiki had entered the room once again and when you looked up, you saw his tall, daunting figure looking down at you - the glow from the lightening behind him not doing any favours as it just made him look even more unnerving

‘i don’t cry. i’m just.. excreting my eye juices. it clears your skin-- ah!’ you tried to explain but you were cut of by another boom of thunder rattle through the house

‘you’re lying.’

yeah, you knew he was a psychic so you weren’t really sure why you thought you’d be able to get the lie passed him

also, due to his psychic abilities and common sense, he figured that the thunder/lightening was the reason for your distress

saiki sighed, not really sure if he should do what he was about to but upon seeing how frightened you were and the nervous series of continuous thoughts rushing through your head...he just had to

you heard another noise which sounded rather different from thunder but it startled you none the less

you looked up at your boyfriend for comfort, only to notice that he was gone

then, you caught a glimpse of something unusual from the window

you approached it hesitantly and peered outside to see the cluster of storm clouds being swept aside like dust by some unknown force, to reveal the bright blue sky that was hiding behind it

you were in awe and although the masses probably thought this was the work of god or the wind, it didn’t take long for you to figure out that it was your psychic boyfriend who was behind it all

‘it’s gone now.’ his voice tickled your ears from behind and to say it gave you the fright of your life was an understatement

you jumped, alarmed at first but once you turned around for your eyes to meet his, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over you

‘oh, yes. thank you, saiki!’ you chirped, throwing your arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace

he was a bit taken back at first but it didn’t take long for him to melt into your touch and hug back, cradling your head and patting it bc i hc that is how he hugs/cuddles

(he just wants you to feel safe with him 🥺 even though he is an OP psychic who could probably kill you if he’s not careful)

anyway, saiki will ensure that you never experience another thunderstorm for as long as you live

Kōtarō Bokuto

you already know that the first thing bokuto is going to do when he sees you cry and cuddle up next to you and cry too so you don’t feel embarrassed

but like when he comes back from the kitchen and heating the pizza he was about to eat, then he noticed you curled up under a blanket on the couch, shivering and whimpering..he drops the pizza

like he is so shocked

he didn’t want to believe that you were crying tbh

but as your bf it was his duty to comfort you

bc you always comfort him so well when he feels down and he wants to do the same for you!!

anyway, the first thing he does is join you under the blanket and cry with you for a bit

but his fake wails are so bad that you can’t help but laugh FVHIDBFA

once he notices that he’d cheered you up slightly, he’ll inquire, ‘are you scared of thunder?’

you nodded slightly, gently leaning your head on his strong shoulder, ‘a bit.’

bokuto bent his arm to pat and rub your head reassuringly, ‘but you’re so fearless, (y/n)! remember that time you went bungee jumping and even I was too afraid to do it?!’

you simply shrugged, tensing as you heard the thunder rumble through the living room

‘but anyway,’ bokuto hummed, placing a gentle kiss on your temple, ‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

you shrugged once again, ‘maybe just stay with me for a bit longer, please.’

your wish was his command ✨

now there is no way he’s leaving your side until the storm passes

whether that takes a few minutes or the whole night

he’s not going to leave you even to eat the pizza he had dropped on the living room floor

and he hold you close against his chest so you know that he’s not going going anywhere

also, he started talking not only instinctively but also to drown out the sound of the thunder and redirect your attention onto him

‘and then kuroo was all like SUPRISE!! and i was all like THANKS, MAN BUT IT’S NOT EVEN MY BIRTHDAY and then kuroo was like I KNOW!! god, he knows me so well.’

‘hey, (y/n) - we should dress up for halloween his year! kuroo and his girlfriend are doing a couples costume so i think we should do one too and out-shine them! i was thinkin’ fred and daphne except you can be fred.’

‘i was looking on five minute crafts of food the other day - don’t ask why - and some of the desserts were lookin’ kinda tasty tbh. i’ll send you the link so we can make ‘em sometime.’

‘why did you comment ‘i’ll give you my first born child in exchange for you to crush my skull with your thicc, juicy, scrumptious thighs 🤤😳’ under my instagram pic? and why does it have 1k likes?’

needless to say, you can’t be sad for too when you’re around bokuto lmao

Rintarō Suna

RAIEVABTG DON’T EVEN LIE HE’D JUST BE LIKE ‘cover your ears den lmao’

ok ok so you’re on facetime with him and thunder blares through your room - it’s so loud that even he can hear it through the phone - and you jump, immediately pulling your blankets over yourself

he was hitting his vape then he pulled away to look at his phone again and you were gone (bc you had brought your phone under the covers with you and obvs it was dark)

he could also hear your little whimpers even though you tried you best to hide them by slapping your hand over your mouth

‘doll, where’d ya go?’ he inquired, concern laced in his voice. he opened his drawer to toss his vape away but he did not avert his eyes from the screen just in case something happened

‘i’m still here. just under the covers.’ you spoke, doing your best to hide how shaky your voice was

‘why?’ he puffed, allowing the vapor to leak from his mouth and escape out to his surrounding - which was his bedroom

‘oh, no reason.’

suna knew you were lying, it wasn’t hard to tell, ‘well, if that’s the case, can you come out from the cover, doll? i wanna see your face.’

‘-no.’ you immediately replied, letting out a feeble sigh as you realised that lying wasn’t going to get you anywhere. ‘i’m just a bit afraid of the thunder, that’s all.’

suna cocked his head to the side, ‘thunder? never heard that one before.’ he said, mentally cursing himself out just as he said that since it came out a lot harsher than he intended, ‘erm, why don’t you try putting your headphones on?’ he suggested in a soft voice, trying to make up for the uncalled-for comment he made

you hummed in agreement, wondering why you didn’t think of that

momentarily tossing your duvet aside, you rushed to your desk where you black headphones were laying, you picked them up and dashed back towards your bed as if someone was chasing you, diving onto it, pulling the cover back over your head and plugging the headphones into your phone before pulling them over your ears

‘this helps a bit. thanks, suna.’

suna’s eyes widened as he slumped back against his headboard, ‘suna? what happened to babe?’

‘thanks, babe.’ you corrected yourself with a giggle

now that suna’s voice was the most prominent sound in your ears, the thunder seemed to fade into satisfying background noise

you couldn’t get over the random flashes of lightening though, those always made you yelp - and he noticed this

‘i really wish you were here right now.’ you mused, hugging your pillow to your chest to imitate what you’d to if he was here with you, ‘i’d give you all my kisses.’

‘bet.’ was the last thing you heard before he hung up on you

you were quite bummed at first but then you registered that he was probably on his way over :))

and he was!

you heard a few loud knocks on your door followed by a monotone mutter ‘let me in, i’m freezing my tits off out here.’

ofc you let him in and after you led him to your bedroom, he immediately pinned you to your bed, ‘you know what i’m here for.’

‘huh?’

he was confused for a moment but then he noticed that you still had the headphones on

he snickered, momentarily pulling one of the earpads away from your ear to say, ‘kisses.’

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Note

SAW THAT DRUNK FLUFFY HEADCANNON. NOW DO A ANGST SMUT VERSION OF IT OR WHATEVER SIS. LEZ GET ETTTT SKRRTSKRTTTTT

Please. 🥺

LEZ GET IIIIIIIIIIT SKRTSKRT (I CANT)

some of these are both smut/angst and others only smut or only angst OK? ok

SMUT AND ANGST VERSION WOOP now we’re talking bby

warning; SMUT/ANGST. gn!reader x skz. subxdom, use of alcohol, sex under influence, minor injuries, penetrative sex, degradation, punishment, nicknames, choking, mentions of blood, slight dacryphilia, mentions of tobacco

Bangchan

he’s more pouty but seeing you with scraped knees makes him mad

mad because he cares so much about you

“y/n you’re being stupid”

you fall into his arms, just as mad back at it

“if im so stupid then leave”

he looks at you, dumbfounded but then mad

“fine, then i’ll leave” he says, clearly hurt by your words but holding tightly to his pride, storming off.

as the door closes you panic, feeling lonely and paranoid at the same time

you never really being good with alcohol anyways

so him leaving you in this vulnerable state made you feel,,, bad :((

you run after him and eventually catch up

right as you get to him you stumble, scraping your knee and your hand

he turned around quickly, filled with worry but also pure rage

“you’re so stupid y/n” he says leaning down and looking you into your glossy eyes

“h-help me channie” you say, your voice frail

he sighes, picking you up and the two of you going back home

Minho

be scared be real fucking scared

you aint walking for a week nuh uh

fucks you DEEP

deeper than ever

boy is mad as fuck, he just lashes out on you for being so stupid as to walk home alone in the middle of the night.

he complains and scolds you whilst he’s railing you oop

“fucking stupid, walking like that all alone”

you are practically crying underneath him, not sure if it’s from him scolding you or from how DEEP this man goes

pounding some sense into you LMAO

lots of choking OOF

denying your orgasm until you’re crying

“yeah thats right, cry for me” (lmao cue twice)

NAH BUT A SWEETHEART AFTERWARDS I PROMISE

Changbin

“what if you get injured y/n?” he says, holding your hand on your way home

“i didn’t!” you say confidently

“then whats that?” he says, pointing at your bleeding knees

“n-nothing” you say, limping forward

“should listen to me more” he says quickly, puffing his cheeks in frustration

“i do listen, just,,, just let me have f-fun!” your head spinning.

“but thats not having fun y/n, thats called being stupid and destroying your health” he spits on the ground

“alright then let me, not like it’s affecting you in any way” you slur out, changbin looking at you through hooded eyes as he exhales loudly

“maybe if you’d stop being drunk all the time you’d actually see how it is effecting me” he says, letting go of your hand causing you to stumble over your own legs

you hit the cold concrete in the dark as he walks home

“come back when you’ve thought about your actions”

Hyunjin

he paces back and forward in the hallway, waiting for you

the door creaks open and you, looking like a mess, appear infront of him

“where were you? i was worried sick y/n! you cant just do-”

“shush,,, i want a,, a hug” you stammer out, getting closer to him and smelling of cigarettes and alcohol

he pushes you away, glaring at you through dark eyes

“do you even care about me?”

you tilt your head, feeling more unstable for every second that goes by.

“of course hyunnie!” you smile lazily at him

but he’s not buying any of it

i feel like he holds grudges for a long time??? idk just me??

“i’ll sleep on the couch, dont come close to me”

bruh his voice and tone is so cold, it send shivers down your spine

you nod, tears bubbling up in the corners of your eyes.

Jisung

“im not helping you!” jisung says, you rubbing your thighs together, always feeling needy when drunk

“pl-please sungie, i-i wont drink ever again i-if you help,,, me”

he cocks his eyebrow at you, licking the inside of his cheek

“mhm.. you think im stupid enough to fall for that? what do you really think of me babygirl/babyboy”

you scratch the back of your head, not knowing what to answer

“y-you fell for it last time~”

he scoffs, pissed at the fact that you came stumbling through the door in the middle of the night

him waiting for you and being filled sick with worry

he leans closer to your ear, feeling the smell of liquor

“why should i help you? sluts like you dont deserve me”

you whine at his words, not helping with your neediness

“please,, jisung i,, just help me!” you were started to get pouty to which he chuckles

“beg nicely”

Felix

“where were you”

his voice is like LOW low

he sits with his legs spread apart

bruh his gaze?!??”! its like black, just blank

you try to ignore him, shuffling around awkwardly but only stumbling from being drunk

“sit” he pats his lap you gulp, having no other choice but to listen

you sit down on his lap

your eyes are running all over the room, looking everywhere but at felix

“was my slut out drinking?”

BRUH YOU JUST STARE AT HIM

he only says that when he’s mad, ONLY

so now you’re scared but you nod, barely having your eyes open

he hums, his voice vibrating through your ears

“you agree, you’re a slut?”

you nod again and before you know it theres a hand wrapped around your throat, pushing on the sides and making you feel even more lightheaded.

his mouth gets close to your ear

his warm breath desending down your cheek

“dont make me do this kitten”

Seungmin

frustrated

he gets a call from one of your friends that tell you that you’re passed out on the street

he picks you up, you barely standing on your own two legs and the entire way home he didnt say a word

as soon as the door to your home closes he starts yelling at you

“dont you have any thoughts in that dumb head of yours?”

you start tearing up from his loud and stern voice, leaning against a wall.

“i-im sorry minnie”

that being the only sentence he understood, the rest sounding more like blabbering

“are you really sorry y/n, are you??!”

“y-yes,,, just tired~”

without saying anything more he grabs his jacket and leaves

slamming the door behind him

at first you dont understand but then the silence takes over, leaving you wrapped with a lonely blanket as tranquility

“m-minnie?” you call out as if he was still there but being met by nothing but pure silence

you slide down against the wall, crying as seungmin peeks through the door, feeling bad for making you cry

Jeongin

“enough”

he grabs the bottle from your hand, placing it beside him as the two of you were drinking at home.

“but whyyy?~ we were just getting started innie~”

he looks at you with a puzzled expression

your cheeks flaming hot and your eyes drooping down

“cant you just stop y/n?”

you meet his brown eyes, not understanding what he meant

“hm? whatchu mean~?

he sighs loudly, seeing you roll around on the floor

“why can’t you just control yourself? why do i always have to take care of you?”

you laugh, your thoughts gone with the wind

“thats funny innie!”

poor boy gets frustrated and lays down, hovering above you

“is it funny if i do this?”

he kisses you, slowly trailing his fingertips downwards

OK I HAVE ONE REQUEST LEFT IN MY INBOX SO GOTTA DO THAT!! and after that im gonna start posting/working more on fics even though... i feel shit about writing fics because they never turn out that good huh.... AH WELL at least im trying T-T

hard/soft thoughts are always welcome ><

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : point of view

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : tomorrow is something that is never promised, less so when the dead walk the Earth. being trapped for the night when a storm pours down upon you and daryl while trapped in a decrepit house by a few walkers are you sick and tired of hiding what you feel.

— warnings : some swearing, talk of potential death ( of the reader ) , a wee bit of angst that turned into more at the end :)

note: omg another daryl oneshot i gotta chill ajksajksk, but i had like seven main bullet points i made to follow when writing this and i followed like...... two, three at the most, anyways.... enjoy? this is brought to u by ariana’s discography lmao oops it does be cute at some point tho ... also felt a bit hsm with that one line at the end ahaha but fr lemme stop talking now

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dark and gloomy clouds swirl over your head, blending into an extremely large and angry looking ready to descend from above. You wonder to yourself just how long you have left before the loud cracks that crumble through the air to accompany the forceful winds and pouring drops of rain are finally released. Halfway through the trip back from the town that lays after miles from the prison the car used decided it preferred to lay quietly in the middle of the road, shortly after the sickly sputters from the engine you heard Daryl mutter a few curse words. You were unable to hold in your amusement, despite the fact that a lack of transport obviously leaves you in a vulnerable position, it felt like it was your luck for that to happen to you.

It’s why you stay behind following the hunter in silence.

Studying him with focused eyes you can’t help but wonder how he never realises when you’re unable to tear your gaze away from him. In the beginning when you began to develop a certain affection for him you had been glad, for it to be too embarrassing for the thoughts you had about him in your head. In spite of this, when you realised that it was much more than a crush did you wish for him to mind read, because you have no idea just how to approach him about such a sensitive topic and while he can be tender about feelings, it’s also his downfall.

“ it’ll be gettin’ dark soon, there should be some houses down there to spend the night in. “

You stop in your tracks with a curious look that bled so suddenly into your features you had no time to stop it.

“ you don’t want to carry on? I mean, we’re not far from home? “ you question him with a hint of fear coddling your words.

“ we’d be trippin’ over our feet. Let’s back it back in one piece, yeh? “

Nodding, you regain your pace. It’s been a few months since you’d been hopping from one house to the other during that harsh winter, the bare thought of having to stay in yet another frail structure sent a chilly hand drawing its claws deeply up your spine. If you never had your group, you don’t think you would have made a winter like that, barely protected from the elements and the walkers that wished to plunge their teeth cavernously into your flesh.

“ as long as we leave as soon as the sun comes up. Please. “ you plead, your words filter off into a gentle volume from your position.

Leaves crumble and buckle underneath the weight, the sound of crickets dominate your surroundings as the two of you walk in silence. You itch to start a conversation, but the fear of distracting the man and annoying withhold the words that wish to fall from your lips, even then you don’t know how to begin. What would you say? There’s not much to talk about in a world where the dead have risen, where they wish to drag the world into decomposition.

Your wandering mind is pulled from its very own depths from a noise coming from Daryl, he’d turned to catch your attention. You both set to work attempting to enter any of the abandoned houses, hoping one had been left unlocked at some point.

Of course, luck is scarce. Despite there not being a soul who occupies them, they’re still somehow locked. Mournfully, you wonder if the owners of these homes had thought the governments and armies would eventually lock everything under their control, to the point that there would be a house for them to come back to? Your heart thuds painfully in your chest to think about what happened to them, and if they’re even still surviving.

A large thud draws you back to the present, the wooden door splinters at the force Daryl puts into a large kick to its frame.

“ well, there goes the lock. “ you mutter humourously, lifting the heavy bag higher up onto your shoulders as you walk in the open door.

“ we’ll put the couch there, stop any unfriendly types that come our way. “

“ I don’t know if there’s anyone left anymore. “ you reply, dropping the bag to the floor and moving towards the couch.

Situated on the other side of it, you grip the plush handle and lift with a struggle. It’s a strain to get it through the doorway to turn it around the corner, but eventually it happens. Daryl is joined by your presence by his side, you both push ⏤ this time it’s an easier feat with two of you on one side to dedicate your strength and weight to advance it.

As soon as you finish, a heavy crackle cuts through the air.

“ we got here just in time, huh? “

“ just about. “ he answers you, sparing a glance before moving through the lower floor ⏤ searching for anything that can be taken back to the prison.

Thunderstorms had never been your favourite thing growing up. Of course, rain was something that calmed you from the anxieties life brought, but the thunder and lightning is what you loathed. Never knowing when you were about to receive a fright from the loud rumbles and flashing lights ruined the whole experience for you.

The rustling Daryl makes is the only thing that brings you comfort in this moment, keeping you grounded and away from your thoughts. It doesn’t escape your notice that these houses feel no more than graveyards with the memories that have no use to live, instead haunting the structures with what could have been had chaos and death not taken over. You climb the stairs, hugging your sides as you refuse to touch the handrail leading up stairs.

There is a middle room with access granted without having to push open the door to gain entry. Your eyes scan the room’s interior, even with the dust and grime that bespeckle its surfaces, you can still see its beauty. Now, who does that remind you of? Your mind cheekly thinks before you banish it into the shadows of your brain, where you know it will force itself out with an immense stubbornness.

Despite the thunder booming in the distance frequently, you can’t help but admire the beauty of rain drops falling to the ground with a dainty grace only it holds. The sky continues to grow dimmer, only seeing the rain on your level and lower, no street lights flood the street to aid you in being able to see torrent from above. Jumping at another roar of sound from the storm, your heart begins to pick up its pace, so much you don’t realise Daryl joining you in the room.

“ scared? “

Turning around with such speed that leaves you surprised whiplash did not greet you, Daryl is left smirking at your reaction.

“ yeah, I hate these things. “ you respond, a bitterness coating each word heavily as you speak.

“ more than walkers? “ he questions you, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“ well, I suppose not that much .. “ another clap of thunder interrupts you, the rain beating harder and harder on the windows of the bedroom. “ can we talk about anything? This shit really grates on my nerves. “

“ what y’wanna talk about? “

Your mind stalls, with the previous thoughts that had been swirling in a state of disorder your draw a blank. A continuous thump downstairs interrupts your shrug, speeding down the stairs you realise a few walkers are trying to enter the property, of course their lack of intelligence fails to realise they’re throwing themselves into the walls and not the blocked doors.

“ shall we take them out? “ moving closer to the lengthy curtained window next to the door to get a better look, you can see three walkers hauling themselves mindlessly against the structure.

“ nah, the storm’ll get ‘em soon enough. “ he shakes his head softly, your mind taking note of the lack of proximity between your bodies as he repeats your action. “ no need to risk ourselves. “

“ wouldn’t be the first time you’ve risked your life. “

“ s’nothin. “ he contradicts gruffly, wiping a finger across his nose at your words. He truly doesn’t view it as that, refusing to think of it as risking his life. To Daryl, it doesn’t feel like risking everything to help the people around him, it’s not something he can find the words to explain but all he knows if there’s a chance, he would do it again and again.

“ Daryl Dixon, so humble. “ you speak warmly with a gentle smile threading itself into your features. “ you need to give yourself more credit. “

“ stop. “

“ you’re as brave as anyone in the group. I’d say braver than Rick. “ you joke, setting yourself from the entryway to the sitting room. “ although, if I had to choose you and Carol .. I’m sorry, but Carol every time! “

“ damn woman frightens me. “

Laughter light in weight dances airily between you with an elegance in its movement. For even a fraction of a second you forget that there are walkers that are itching to break through into the property, that there’s an angry storm that threatens to demolish whatever stands in its path, because right now it’s only you both here and now in this one room.

“ she’s come a long way. “ you agree, pulling a lone chocolate bar from your bag. Your favourite and you’re thanking the universe that it hasn’t spoiled yet. Turns out all these preservatives and chemicals have some use after all you note to yourself as half is offered to the man standing across from you.

“ so have ‘yuh. “ he acknowledges, taking the broken half of the candy from you.

“ I think we all have to be honest. I don’t think any one of us are the people we used to be. “

“ now who’s humble? “ Daryl asks, his tone light in relaxed merriment. He’d long since taken note of the transformation you’d gone through, he’s never seen you so strong as a person before.

“ don’t you turn this round on me, Dixon. “

The two of you fall silent, you direct your gaze to the window and the raindrops that litter the window pane’s surface. The harsh noises thundered no more, leaving a calm pitter of precipitation to fall with no interruption. From your position on the second couch, you wrap around a thin decorational blanket around your arms, leaning your cheek against the palm of your hand.

Pretending the world hasn’t gone to hell, that it’s just a normal evening where you’re admiring the scene before you. Skies that weep heavily is what the Georgian greenery has been calling out for, especially since the warmer temperatures have returned in full force. Switching your line of sight to Daryl, you feel a mellowness in the pit of your stomach as you watch him fondly. You can’t be sure if it’s the lack of distractions or eyes from your group, but you feel a miniscule spark of confidence within your confines.

“ come sit down, you can relax for a bit. “ you call, trying to convince him lightly. Your hand moves to pat the seat next to you.

“ can’t relax in this world. “ despite the disagreement in his words he does move towards your position on the plush seat.

“ it doesn’t mean we can’t make it. Otherwise we’d be burnt out, I’d hate to see that happen to you. “ You divulge as you reply to him, little inklings of hope in your tone.

“ y’don’t gotta worry ‘bout me. “

“ but I do, Daryl. “ you groan as a dull glumness contorts your features into something new. “ I mean, the lengths you go to .. you scare me to death. “

“ don’t be dumb. “ Daryl warns lowly as he shakes his head, few have shared their vulnerability with him. Perhaps only Carol, his mind can’t wrap itself around the fact that people genuinely care for him. Growing up, he’d been taught of it as a weakness. Something that should not exist, no one cared when he went missing for a short while as a child, and now having people who show him the opposite? It leaves a strange feeling to settle within his heart.

“ please, I need to tell you. I mean, I might not even be here tomorrow. “

“ nah, don’t say that. Y’will. “ he argues, he doesn’t even want to entertain the notion of not seeing you even for a day ⏤ let alone forever.

Truthfully, you’d not been particularly close. He understands it now, he pushed everyone away wherever he had the chance to. But after the downfall of the farm? You wouldn’t let up in trying to forge bonds that could rival even the strongest of metals. You had no idea, but he’d overheard you talking to Beth one day. When you said you didn’t want to be afraid of living, to have something worth dying for. That struck him deep.

“ neither you or I can guarantee that. Now, call me selfish but I can’t die with what ifs in my brain. “ you explain, you know it’s probably selfish to announce any kind of fondness for a person nowadays, because you can be ripped from their existence without any kind of announcement. But if you were to depart from the realm of the living, you’d want to have affectionate memories to experience and for them to look back on.

“ what y’sayin? “

Your eyes well up in frustration, whether it’s over the way you find the words are hiding beneath your tongue like cowards under the cloak of night or over the fact that you have begun this topic of conversation, backing yourself into a corner. There’s so much you want to say but how you should is not coming easy. Eloquence in your words is something you find yourself yearning for with all of your being should it bring you a happy ending to this discussion.

This isn’t a fairytale, there’s no happy or bad endings in real life you sorely think. There’s just reality, and the conclusions for that are neither black or white.

Fingertips grip the roots of your hair for a fleeting moment before letting go as if you’d never clutched them in exasperation at all.

Shutting your eyes so hard they hurt, you muster up the courage to speak the truth you’ve locked away in your heart, allowing it the light it has been deprived of for so long.

“ Daryl, I ⏤ “ your voice shuts off with a painful sound, sighing as if to psych yourself up. “ I feel more for you than I probably should. “

When Daryl says nothing, you open your eyes. Your entire being preparing yourself for the worse answer, this moment may hurt now but the pain will lessen. At least your soul feels lighter with the hidden information no longer chained to it as a burden, no longer will it have to be weighed down by its mass.

“ I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. “

“ who said I didn’t wanna hear? “

“ ⏤ what ? “ you question, your brows falling lower as you squint in disbelief. You wonder if your brain is forming a false memory to protect itself later on.

“ y’don’t nothin’ to do with me though. “ he hesitates, the automatic response to push away anything good that comes his way to the furthest reaches. “ nothin’ but trouble. “

A sorrowful smile full of grief clouds your features, your unshed tears threaten to fall. If only he could see himself from your point of view, he doesn’t see just how admirable of a human being he is. Yes, he has his flaws but who doesn’t? In all of humanity, you don’t think there has ever been a perfect person, but it’s how they approach their downsides that shows the peak of their humanity, that they don’t let the darkness fester in their heart, to poison their soul into becoming a shell of a kind hearted person. That shows the strength of their character.

Daryl? You feel honoured to have been a first hand witness to see him turn from a hot ball of anger to a softer, kinder soul.

“ Daryl, you really don’t see what I do.” you forsake everything, leaning forwards and laying your hands across his. Taking in the immense warmth from them. “ That? It hurts me, because you’re rather amazing. “

Saying nothing, Daryl looks down at your intertwined hands. He wants the chance that’s being offered, though the fear of being the one who poisons everything he lays his touch upon settles heavily on his shoulder. No one has come out unscarred when dealing with a member of the Dixon family, his family tree being nothing more than toxic, with weeds that wrap around the limbs of the poor fool who got involved with them, as they drag them to their lowly depths. He doesn’t know how to let go of the past and for this he continues to pay, with the high price being his happiness in the present world. No response leaves his lips, for the first time in a long time he doesn’t know what to say, while knowing what he wants to say. It’s not until he feels arms wrapped around the top of his shoulders is he brought back down to Earth, a shudder of a breath is released from him as he realises what is going on. The action is reciprocated in earnest, you’re full of gratitude that he’s accepting your comfort ⏤ knowing it could have been a gamble of a decision, a fifty fifty chance of him reacting negatively or positively. You, too, draw comfort from the position you both find yourself, clutching the other. Hope dawns on your heart, knowing Daryl is not a particularly affectionate man. This means a lot, for it’s a leap for you both.

“ thank you. “ he whispers in the night. You know that this is the start of something new.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl imagine #twd imagine #the walking dead imagine #twd oneshot #daryl oneshot

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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years

Note

"for one muse to kiss the other's scar" w satan pls? 👉🏻👈🏻

masterlist / 600+ followers event

Thank you for your request, anon! No pronouns were specified so I hope you don’t mind masc mc :’)

I kept getting scared that this was getting too lengthy (i have a short ass attention span so ik i cant read long stuff LMAO) so I redid a bunch of parts, i hope it’s not too apparent!

✖️MALE MC✖️

Anything with history is an eye-catcher to Satan.

Just like a good novel, things with meaning and origins deeper than surface level are so much more enjoyable and genuine than things that simply are there. Who says an Avatar of Wrath can’t be poetic?

But it’s often that things with such overwhelming sentiment that Satan feels become an eye sore much quicker than anything else. Some things of personal importance are meant to be remembered, but not belabored to the point of ruin.

He is forced to face this fact today when Lucifer pushes a boundary that may not have even existed before. At any rate, it does now. Skipping past the point of negotiation entirely, Satan now finds himself pacing his room, cursing his brothers name under his hissing breath.

MC patiently watches as Satan goes through his breathing exercises on his own, knowing that if Satan has learned to calm down on his own before, he can do it again. Just being in his room with him is enough.

On the other hand, Satan isn’t too keen on that idea.

Things have become enstranged between him and Lucifer— Even more so. At this point, it’s hard to tell that MC’s help had brought them any closer at all.

The recent fights and arguments continuously end in Satan peering at the long, winding scar wrapping around his wrist and forearm like a ravenous snake. Just its faded presence is enough to make him conflicted.

He received this scar long ago, at least thousands of years ago. From a day that Lucifer got a bit too close to Satan when he was angry.

Maybe that was the day that set the precedent. The precedent that stated that no matter how smart or calm he presents, there will always be some turmoil within him brewing like a storm.

The disappointment and weariness that shows in his own family’s faces when he gets worked up is so evident he wishes he could be anyone else than who he is. Even if just for a day. But isn’t it unfair to only expect chaos from him? Certainly he’s been doing better to keep his anger in check... Right?

Besides... It’s just his nature to be angry. So, maybe... No, he still is held accountable for his actions. He definitely should just—

“Satan? Are you... Are you okay?” MC quietly calls his name from his bed. Perhaps he should have called Satan’s name a little earlier? The demon stood staring at his clothed arm in absolute silence for a number of minutes until now.

Satan’s eyes open a little wider. “Huh..? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have spaced out... How uncharacteristic of me.” He can’t find it in himself to smile, and instead uses his left hand to hold onto his scarred forearm, pushing it aside in hopes to shake off his intrusive thoughts.

“Moreover... I feel like I have calmed down significantly. Thank you for being here MC, but perhaps you’ve been bored out of your mind here.” He gives a firm smile and quickly looks away. “You may leave if you’d like.”

MC doesn’t quite listen to his offer. Satan seemed more tensed than normal when he would have “calmed down”. If he were a danger to be around at that moment, he would have said so, anyways. And if there was any chance of being able to help him before he does something risky, MC would take it.

“Well... It wouldn’t hurt to stay just a bit more, would it?” MC gave him a small smile, in which Satan seemed to become a bit flustered upon seeing.

Satan wonders how to respond. MC was right. And it may just hurt more if Satan is alone with his thoughts. “Oh, MC.” He sighs with unsaid appreciation, then makes his way into bed beside the human, who is still sitting on the edge. “Sometimes I wonder who truly are the angels of the exchange program.”

MC giggles, rolling over so that the two males lay side by side. “I’m no angel, but humans aren’t so bad... Occasionally.”

Satan smiles to let him know that the response was well received. Lord knows how grim his expression was while he was subconsciously considering his past just moments ago.

“But, that aside...” MC turns his head to look at the blonde. “What’s wrong, Satan? I’m not forcing anything out, but I’m thinking I should start to worry.”

Satan could almost laugh at those words. Worry? For him? A demon who embodies fury and unrelenting rage? It’s... A little odd to picture.

“Hmph. Well... Now that I have to put it in words, it seems a bit silly when it really shouldn’t be...”

MC raised a brow. “Based off of how you were glaring at your hands earlier, I doubt that this is about it being silly, and more about you trying to downplay it. But I’d say that’s a rather common coping mechanism.”

Satan felt as if he were see through. A mere glass pane. How could someone see into his mind so well? He had barely gotten into his explanation at all. “Er. I guess you could say that...

“It would appear that the tension... Between Lucifer and I has caused some rather distasteful memories to surface.” Satan mumbles the words as if they would reflect his character poorly. As if they were something to be ashamed of.

MC picks up on this, and a frown deepens his features. “Satan...” He pauses to think about what to say next, “You see, this is the part where I have no idea what to add because you guys have thousands of years of age on me.”

Satan ruffles the male’s hair when he sees the small pout on his lips. “You’ll come to learn that most demons are petty, shallow creatures with personalities about as deep as a puddle,”

Coming to a stop, the Avater of Wrath subconsciously began to pull up his sleeve to reveal the very edge of his scar. However, he hesitates, and his throat tightens just barely.

What in the hell was he doing?

“...” MC can’t look away from Satan’s hands, and it seems that time has stopped for a moment. Even the air that previously entered and exited MC’s nose seized.

Satan suddenly relaxes. It’s just MC. A human that knows all too well that this household could be dangerous and frightening. So he continues to pull up the bit of cloth covering peach skin.

“And sometimes, we tend to give into vainglorious temptations that only end up hurting someone, or everyone.” Satan finishes, voice barely breaking the border between a whisper and mutter. “I suppose I could have gone about pushing Lucifer’s buttons in a smarter way... But I didn’t, unfortunately. So I’m left with this loving scar from my brother.”

MC supresses a gasp, and gently takes hold of Satan’s arm. “It looks like it was super deep... I’m sorry this happened to you Satan.”

Satan watches MC trail his fingers calmingly along the edge of his river-like line along his arm. He rotates his forearm so that he can follow its path all around his arm.

“I appreciate that, MC... But I’m ‘over it’, for lack of better words. You see here, the scars actually make the silhouette of a cat on the untouched skin. It’s rather cute.”

MC laughs at the revelation. It was cute. But as much as he could admire Satan’s turning of an unfortunate event into a moment of entertainment for the two of them, he couldn’t ignore the weary look on Satan’s face.

“Awh... That’s adorable.” MC lightly mocks a babyish tone, and rubs his finger on the head of this imaginary feline. “It’s like a mini Satan cat.” He feels Satan’s shoulder move as he chuckles breathily.

“I value your adoration for my unsightly skin, MC. But if you’re so affectionate to this mere imagery of ‘mini Satan’ , perhaps you could spare a moment or two paying more attention to me.” He’s not sure if Satan means to sound dismayed rather than playful, even through the smile on his lips.

So he decides to gently grab onto Satan’s arm and press his lips against the indented skin on his forearm.

“M-MC-..!” Satan jumps, free hand freezing mid-air. His body heat is rising, and he’s sure MC can feel it.

“You’d better not be talking about Mini Satan like that, Satan.” MC mumbles against his skin. “He’s not unsightly. He’s wonderful and handsome, just like you.”

Satan can’t find a way to respond. Was he supposed to feel his heart squeeze? This seemed too menial of a response from MC for his heart to be racing like this. He simply smiles and shakes his head helplessly.

“Thank you, MC...” He lets out the breath he had been holding in.

Perhaps he could afford to be transparent every once in a while.

#obey me satan #satan x mc #male reader #obey me #satan

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alolowrites · 4 years

Text

A Beautiful Blessing

Summary: Someone leaves a mysterious box outside your apartment in the middle of the storm. Fortunately, no one gets hurt.

Author’s Note: This is my first story for @bnhabookclub‘s Hero Camp Bingo event happening right now! It officially runs from June 5th until August 15th and I received my very own bingo card to fill out. Fun fact, I wrote this story prior to the bingo event happening (lol), so I’m glad it worked out!

I posted my bingo card below. Each time I submit a story for this event, I will cross off the prompt I used as well. The first prompt I crossed off was Adopt a Pet! Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.5K

A powerful storm rages through your neighborhood.

It is the perfect excuse to stay inside and watch random Netflix movies with your favorite person by your side. You snuggle closer to Shinsou, resting your head on his shoulder; his arm comfortably holds you and acts like a weighted blanket that nearly puts you to sleep. You suppress a yawn as an impromptu lullaby emerges from the raindrops pelting against the glass window.

The movie ends, and you stretch forward, “Pick the next one.”

Shinsou reaches for the remote, moving the bowl of popcorn sitting in the middle. You snatch it before the snack falls, avoiding a great tragedy. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for last week’s popcorn mess; the couch wouldn’t stop crunching up a song that night. Shaking your head, you shove a handful of the buttery goodness into your mouth and check some text messages. Your ears perk when a distinct sound rings outside.

“Did you hear that?” You glance at the window. A ray of lightning scatters across the dark clouds, which looms above the apartment building, “It sounded like a high-pitch mewl.”

Shinsou shrugs, “Probably your thought process at work.”

You whack his stomach. He snickers and continues scrolling through the selection.

“Very funny,” you dryly remark. The wind howls as the storm picks up its strength. A bright, white sheet temporarily blinds the entire sky, followed by a ferocious thunder that shakes the apartment complex. Through your munches, you hear the high-pitch noise return. With narrowed eyes, you stand up from your couch, “I’m gonna go check it out.”

“I’ll start the movie without you if you take too long.”

“Pfft, sure.” You stride toward the door, but regret opening it when the rain rudely greets your face. Groaning, you rapidly scan around until something catches your eye. An odd, medium-sized cardboard box sits near the door, a raggedy shirt flapping on top; you become suspicious.

“Hitoshi!” His eyes immediately peel away from the TV at the sound of your worried voice. You look over your shoulders, “There’s a random box outside.”

Shinsou springs into action, “Don’t touch it and get away from the door!”

He snatches his scarf and rushes to the entrance. Just as you turn around, the same mewl cries from inside the box; it sounds like a baby animal. Your curiosity ultimately wins as you kneel to inspect the package. Shinsou screams out your name, but you ignore him like an idiot. Tossing the torn cloth aside, you gasp at the sight below—it’s a little kitten.

“Oh, you poor thing!”

The frightened animal shivers in the farthest corner from you. It helplessly cries like a broken record, and your hands reach inside to comfort the wet bundle. Shinsou arrives with his scarf ready to protect you from an attack. His defensive stance weakens when he sees a black kitten in your grasp.

You shield the animal from the rain, “Let’s get inside! Find me a towel!”

A trail of water droplets follows you to the kitchen. Shinsou hands you a towel before heading outside again to inspect the box. The kitten meows as they get dried, their head twisting nonstop and body squirming around. You couldn’t blame the innocent feline for being petrified. After a few minutes, you uncover the kitten and scratch behind their ears to calm them down; it works like a charm.

Cradling the fur baby in your arms, you search for a warm blanket and head to the couch. Shinsou finally joins you with a puzzled expression. His eyes land on the kitten comically wrapped up like a burrito. The animal sneezes and owlishly blinks at Shinsou; the hero fights back a snort.

“Was there anything else inside?”

“Nothing. Not even a single note.”

You frown, stroking the kitten’s forehead, “Who the hell left this poor baby outside in that dirty box? Especially in the middle of this horrible storm! What if we weren’t home to save them? I don’t even want to imagine how much this fur ball would have suffered.”

“I’m wondering why they chose our apartment,” Shinsou mutters, his mind trying to remember anyone who might know his address. He tries to keep his personal life under wraps, even if he works more as an underground hero. Only his closest friends know where he lives, but they never would do something like this. Shinsou didn’t find any explosives or deadly chemicals inside the box, ruling out a villain. Maybe a crazed fan? He’s had a few run-ins with them before. Your giggles interrupt his brooding thoughts.

Lilac eyes shift down and watch as the kitten chews on your finger. A small grin curves on Shinsou’s lips at the adorable sight. You loosen the blanket so the kitten can move more freely. Little paws press on your thighs as its button nose sniff your clothes.

Shinsou tilts his head, “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Good question,” you hum and inspect the kitten’s behind, “It’s a girl!”

“We need to take her to the vet tomorrow,” Shinsou’s hand immediately gets attacked by the kitten’s paws and he chuckles while playing along. The exuberant fur ball distracts him from his thoughts, nipping the hero’s fingers with their sharp teeth. It does not hurt Shinsou one bit; if anything, the bite feels more like a small prick. He then grins, “Got to get this little rascal properly checked out for any injuries and see if she’s a lost pet.”

“I doubt she’s a missing pet.” An annoyed thumb jerks behind you, “This little angel was left outside our doorstep in a wet cardboard box. If anything, I want to find the person who abandoned her like this and kick their ass.”

A meow squeaks below. You gesture at the kitten and chirp, “See? Even she agrees with the idea!”

“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Shinsou smirks before searching for the nearest veterinary office on his phone. You roll your eyes and continue to play with the energetic kitten. Shinsou does not react when you reach for his scarf to entertain your new guest. Dangling the fabric in the air, you squeak when the kitten jumps and grabs it; the scarf quickly engulfs the fur ball’s tiny frame. After a few shuffles, her head pops out, and you laugh.

“Got the address,” Shinsou takes a screenshot of one location. He glances at the kitten who endearingly tilts her head at him; he shakes his own, but a faint smile creeps on his face, “I guess we’ll create a make-shift bed for her in our room.”

“Ooooh, yes! I got some old clothes we can use.” You scoop the kitten in your hands and jump off the sofa. Heading to the bedroom, you cry out, “C’mon! She needs some rest; poor baby has been through a lot for one night.”

Shinsou doesn’t argue with you as he snatches his scarf off the couch and follows closely behind.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“Well,” the veterinarian does a quick once-over at her patient. You wait with bated breath for the doctor’s results. Shinsou stands beside you with arms crossed, “Despite missing some vaccinations, she appears to be a healthy three-month-old kitten. I gave her a couple of shots, but she will need to come back in a few weeks for the next doses, though.”

You are relieved, “Thank you, Dr. Sasaki!”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles, bopping the animal’s nose, “The kitten also has no prior owner since I did not detect a microchip. She’s all yours!”

The curious kitten almost falls off the exam table, but you grab her with lightning speed. As soon as the doctor leaves, you face Shinsou and slice the air with your hand, “We have to keep her!”

“Huh?”

“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. She has no home, and I don’t want her ending up in a shelter. Besides, look at her!” You raise the kitten to his eye level and pout to strengthen your case. Shinsou arches an amused eyebrow. “How can you say no to that itty-bitty face?”

On instinct, the kitten meows and instantly melts the hero’s heart. He scratches the back of his neck while saying, “Okay, fine. We’ll keep her.”

You squeal, cradling the bundle of joy closer to your chest; she purrs softly in your arms. Shinsou enjoys seeing you this happy. Unbeknownst to you, he already made his decision after yesterday’s events. You and Shinsou played with the kitten all night long, laughing as she eagerly swatted a piece of yarn dangling mid-air. Once the mini tigress tired herself out, Shinsou tucked her into her make-shift bed.

Your smile brings him back to the present, “We still need a name for our little girl.”

“How about Emi?”

“Emi…” You test out the name and your eyes sparkle, “It’s perfect!”

Shinsou wraps an arm around your waist and fondly looks at his new child while grinning, “Welcome to the family, Emi.”

She is indeed a beautiful blessing.

Which prompt will be crossed off next? Who knows, depends on what my brain comes up with lmao.

As always, thank you for reading!

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou imagines #bnhabookclub #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #hero camp bingo #adopt a pet #fluff #kittens are ADORABLE

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stuckonstarker · 4 years

Text

Storm

| NFF | Rough Sex | Light Degrading |

Hope you enjoy !! I spent like 5 hours on this sleep-deprived last night lmao oof

Peter looked outside, the lightning sliced across the sky, thunder rumbled through the ground, and the wind whipped through the air, making a loud woosh. The lightning looked like a strobe light against the dark gray clouds, occasional flashes of purple peeked through the blinding white lightning.

Peter was enraptured with the fierce beauty of the storm. It made adrenaline rush through his system. His spidey-sense sent shudders through his entire body. He was so preoccupied with the storm that he didn’t notice Tony approaching from the darkness.

“Hey,” Tony said, “we can bunker down in my lab.”

Tony’s voice made Peter jump. He turned to Tony with wide eyes: “I didn’t see you… what?”

“I asked if you wanted to come to the lab,” Tony said.

“Oh,” Peter said, “yeah.”

Tony gave Peter a reassuring smile. Peter trailed behind Tony like a lost puppy

The lab was sound-proofed, it served to soothe Peter’s erratic spidey-senses. He could still hear the muffled roar of thunder through the sound-proofing, though - damn enhanced senses - but of all the rooms in Tony’s house, the lab was the most secure. That thought pacified Peter’s worries. He sat on his stool - the one that Tony specifically bought for him because it was blue. Peter smiled at the memory.

“So,” Tony said, sitting on his stool next to Peter, “what’s hanging, dude?”

Peter smiled, “Don’t call me dude, dude.”

“Have it your way,” Tony said then winked.

Peter’s heart did a backflip. He asked, “Do you think the storm will be over soon?”

“Soon, maybe 3 hours at the most,” Tony said, “that’s the worst-case scenario, though, I’m sure it won’t be that long.”

“What should we do in the meantime?” Peter asked, “Do you have anything we can work on?”

Tony shook his head, “Nothing we can work on now. Besides, you look too… spooked to work, we should just relax.”

Peter laughed, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of his entire body shaking. The more he focused on stopping it, the worse it got.

Tony said, “It’s okay to be afraid, Peter.”

“I’m not afraid,” Peter said, “but my spidey-sense is just… acting up, I guess.”

“Would a drink help?” Tony asked, half-joking.

Peter shook his head, “I don’t drink. And, probably not.”

“I’m here for you,” Tony said, laying a comforting hand on Peter’s knee.

The hand was definitely a paternal act of affection, definitely. But Peter’s mind wandered down a dark, dirty rabbit hole. Peter imagined Tony’s hand snaking higher and higher up his leg, rubbing circles into his thigh. Tony’s other hand cupping Peter’s cheek, guiding their lips together. Peter’s vision blurred, losing himself.

“Peter,” Tony said, worry peeking through his voice.

Peter jumped, eyes widening, “I’m sorry… did you say something?”

“Can I do something?” Tony asked.

Fuck me

“...No,” Peter said.

Tony pulled back, concern pooling his dark eyes. His stare was intense like he could see every thought that raced through Peter’s mind. They sat in silence. Peter’s enhanced hearing could pick up the muffled sound of the rain beating against the building.

Peter watched as Tony licked his lips, entranced with the movement. It stirred a warm want in Peter’s abdomen. Peter leaned toward Tony, those dark eyes luring him closer. Their eyes were locked and, for a moment, clarity washed over both of them and then they knew.

Peter pulled back.

“Peter…” Tony whispered, “do you need anything?”

Peter opened his mouth to answer when the lights flickered. They both looked up, the lab lights rarely flickered. Peter watched the lights intensely.

Tony said, “If the power goes out the backup generator will start.”

“Tony?” Peter said, looking at him.

“Yeah?”

Peter asked, “Can I have a hug?”

“Well, that’s easy enough,” Tony said with a smile, “bring it in then, Pete.”

Tony pulled Peter up into a hug. He clung to Tony, the comfort drowning out whatever lingering anxieties he might’ve had. Peter buried his face into Tony’s chest. It wasn’t fair how safe Tony felt, his sturdy frame and rich, coffee-like smell felt like home to Peter. Tony was wearing a tank top, so Peter took his opportunity to discreetly feel up his biceps.

Tony pulled back partially so that he could admire Peter’s face. His eyes darted around Peter’s features. Tony gently brushed a stray strand of curly brown hair out of Peter’s face. The movement was quick enough, but Peter still felt the phantom touch of Tony’s fingers linger on his forehead.

“You okay now?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded, “I’m better.”

“Good,” Tony said.

Tony tightened his grip on Peter, squeezing him in the hug before jumping away - like Peter had burnt him. Peter looked from Tony’s intense stare down to the stained tiles of the lab.

Peter nodded, “Great.”

Tony’s lips formed a tight line, he looked away from Peter. He looked like he was contemplating something, but before Peter could ask, Tony said: “You seem distracted.”

“Huh?” Peter asked, before the words registered, “Oh, I - um - I… don’t know. Maybe? There are some things on my mind recently, well, not just recently - it’s been a while actually, possibly since I was born - but it’s not important… not that important anyway.”

“If it’s bothering you then I’m willing you wager that it’s pretty important,” Tony said.

Peter sighed, “I mean, it is a little important… but I wouldn’t talk to you about it.”

“Me?” Tony asked. He was actually hurt but covered it up with mock offense; Peter knew that classic Tony Stark move like the back of his hand. Covering up real hurt with fake hurt, playing off his emotions like a joke. Peter had seen Tony use it against all the Avengers, but Tony using it against him hits different.

Peter said, “It’s not you, necessarily, but… I mean, I wouldn’t talk to May about it either, so… It’s just very… teenagery, you know?”

“Sure,” Tony said like it didn’t matter, but he eyed Peter up and down.

Peter felt himself shiver under Tony’s scrutiny. He felt vulnerable when pitted against those predatory bronze eyes. It seemed like Tony could pick out every thought Peter had.

Tony pulled Peter close and leaned down so that their noses were touching. The close proximity made his face heat up. Making direct eye contact with Tony often felt like staring into the eyes of a tiger.

“Peter,” Tony whispered, “you can tell me anything.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter said.

Tony asked, “So, you doubt me?”

“I never said that,” Peter said, “but I don’t think you’d be a big help.”

Tony laughed, his shark-like grin reflected in his black eyes. Peter felt like a fawn being cornered by a coyote. Adrenaline pumped through his body alongside the arousal that began pooling in his stomach. He looked away from Tony, taking a deep breath he didn’t know he needed.

“Try me,” Tony said, a challenging edge to his words.

Tony grabbed Peter’s hips, pulling him close so that they were flush together. It was like a hug, with Peter laying his head against Tony’s chest, but Tony’s hands were right above Peter’s ass. It sent shivers rocketing through Peter’s body.

Peter whispered, “Tony.”

“Tell me what you need, Peter.”

Peter purred, “I need you, Tony.”

Tony’s eyes darkened, “See, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Tony pushed Peter against the table, Peter’s heart raced in his chest. He looked up at Tony with wide, innocent eyes. He put his palm against Tony’s chest, his hands drifted down to Tony’s toned abs. Tony smirked, the cocky prick, and yanked off his tank top.

Peter stared at Tony, his mouth open in awe. Tony soaked in the silent praise as he pressed Peter into a heated kiss. Peter stumbled, trying to keep up with the rough pace that Tony had set.

Tony pulled away from the kiss just as quickly as he started it. Peter whined after him to no avail. Tony smiled at Peter and licked a stripe up his throat. The wet trail of Tony’s saliva made Peter cling to his shoulders. Tony gently bit and sucked on Peter’s sensitive neck, Tony’s mouth on Peter’s neck sent pleasant shudders through Peter’s weak body.

Peter felt Tony’s hands creeping underneath his shirt.

“Let’s get this stuffy thing off,” Tony said, leaving no room for argument - not that Peter would want to.

Peter nodded, “Yea.”

Tony practically ripped Peter’s shirt off. Tony’s eyes dragged over Peter’s bare torso slowly, taking in each and every detail of Peter’s flushed body. It made Peter aware of how exposed he was to his mentor, which made him all the hotter.

Tony flicked one of Peter’s nipples, making the boy squeak in a mix of shame and pleasure. Peter went to cover himself from Tony’s prying eyes, provoking a low rumble from Tony.

He grabbed Peter’s hands and said: “Keep these on the table, okay? Be a good boy for me, Petey.”

Peter’s mouth opened to say something when Tony’s expression stopped him. He obeyed, placing his palms flat against the table behind him. Tony’s smile turned something sinister at Peter’s compliance. Peter’s entire body felt hot, his face was flushed a rosy pink and sweat began to form on his forehead.

Tony put his hands on either side of Peter’s neck, slowly moving down Peter’s body, tracing his pecs, abs, and the ‘V’ that led to Peter’s cock. Tony’s fingers made Peter’s skin explode with goosebumps. Just his fingertips sent delicious tremors through Peter’s body and straight to his dick. Tony’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. Peter felt his body go fuzzy with desire at Tony’s dark expression.

“Tony,” Peter whispered.

Tony asked, “What do you need, baby?”

Peter whined, his brain refusing to form a coherent answer.

“Aw,” Tony said in a mocking tone, “my baby can’t speak, huh?”

Peter hummed in agreement.

“I’ll take care of you, darling,” Tony whispered, voice rough with lust.

Peter mumbled, “Thank you.”

“Good boy knows his manners,” Tony said as he began to remove Peter’s jeans.

Peter was bare, his entire body exposed to Tony’s darkest desires. Tony gripped Peter’s hips and spun him around so that Peter was laying stomach down on the lab table. Peter’s knees felt wobbly and his mind felt clouded. Peter felt the warmth of Tony leave him. He whined in response.

“I’m just getting something,” Tony said.

Peter felt his wrists being bound together behind him on his back. He was going to be Tony’s. At that, the spark of arousal grew into a wildfire within Peter, making him long for release. He was overheating with desire. It felt like hell, it was amazing. Peter never wanted it to end, but he felt full of a passionate need to be filled.

Peter moaned against the table, his cheek was pressed flat against it so some drool dribbled out. If Peter wasn’t lost in the waves of want he would’ve been embarrassed.

“Such a pretty boy,” Tony said, “but not the smartest, huh? That’s okay, your looks got you this far, right?”

Peter whined in response.

“I’m going to get you ready, love,” Tony said.

Peter felt Tony’s first finger enter him. It was wet and awkward but it made Peter shiver in anticipation. He spread his legs farther, trying to be entirely exposed to Tony - who would take care of him. The second finger entered Peter soon after. It stretched Peter, doing scissor motions inside of him, making sure that he could take Tony’s cock. The sting was dull, practically not even there. The third finger made Peter feel woozy, reality around him fading. Tony brushed against Peter’s sensitive prostate making him moan. It sent sparks of firey pleasure through his veins like lava. Tony kept rubbing against Peter’s sweet spot with his fingers - the jerk was enjoying Peter’s cries of lust.

After finger-fucking Peter, Tony deemed him sufficiently prepared.

Peter’s whine was cut short when he felt Tony’s thick cock placed on his ass. Tony spanked Peter’s ass with his dick a few times, then he rubbed it against Peter’s entrance. Peter moaned, shaking his hips, lecherous desire turning into bratty impatience.

Tony pressed a hand into Peter’s back, a silent warning.

The tip of Tony’s dick entered Peter, he slowly pushed the rest of his long, thick cock into Peter. It stretched Peter wide, making him choke on a pleased cry. Tony’s dick felt massive inside of Peter’s tight heat like it was splitting the poor boy apart. The venomous flames of lust filled Peter with clouded desire to be fucked. He wanted - more than anything he’s ever wanted - to be fucked. Peter was sure that if he didn’t get dicked down he would die.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter moaned, “fuck me, please… oh, please fuck me, sir.”

Tony growled out a laugh, “Cute little slut needs to be fucked, huh? Is that what you need, darling?”

“Yes,” Peter cried, “please! Yes… oh my God.”

Peter’s entire body lurched forward when Tony thrust into him roughly. Peter cried out in pleasure, Tony’s cock hitting his prostate. Peter’s entire body felt like it was aflame, it made him moan. Pleasure shot through Peter’s body mercilessly.

“Is that good, baby?” Tony asked.

Peter moaned, “Yes!”

Tony grabbed a fistful of Peter’s unruly hair and pulled on it. Peter felt Tony’s cock deep inside of him, the endless pleasure blending with the shame making Peter mewl.

“Are you a good little slut?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded, as best he could.

Tony demanded, “Say it.”

“I’m a good little slut,” Peter repeated.

Tony pet Peter’s hair and gently placed him back on the table. Peter moaned as the cool lab table met his face again. Tony grabbed Peter by the hips and thrust inside him again, harder. Peter choked on a moan that could be mistaken for a sob.

Tony fucked into Peter, his cock hitting Peter’s sweet spot repeatedly. Hot lust had swallowed both of them, making them slaves to their lecherous desires. Each thrust sent Peter further to hell, the fires of sin enveloping him with his endless want. Tony’s cock rubbed against his inner-walls perfectly, sending him down a descent of shuddering, mind-numbing passion. Tony fucked Peter ruthlessly, chasing down his own release.

The only thing Peter could feel was Tony’s cock dicking him down relentlessly. Moans tumbled out of Peter without permission. Tony fucked into him, turning him into a cock-drunk whore. Every time Tony thrust into Peter it sent overwhelming waves of ignited pleasure throughout Peter’s entire body. Peter’s mind was stuffed with the mantra: I’m a good little slut, I’m a good little slut, I’m a good little slut.

Tony’s cock forced itself deep inside of Peter, it made Peter scream: “Fuck!”

Tony roughly grabbed Peter’s hair, and fucked into him harder, like a punishment for the swear. Every thrust was purposely meant to make Peter cry out in desperate want. It worked. Peter’s body was dazed with the painful pleasure of Tony’s cock pounding into him brutally. Electric pleasure bombarded Peter’s senses, Tony’s cock was the only thing he could understand. An avalanche of ecstasy buried Peter in immeasurable lust. Every thrust sent a searing flash of pleasure through Peter’s entire body.

A tight coil of molten pleasure tightened and tightened until it could tighten no more, making Peter cry out for release. He could feel it, he could feel it closer and closer, but not close enough.

Peter cried, “Tony… Please… I’m so close, Tony!”

“Good sluts don’t talk,” Tony growled through forceful fucking, “but I’ll let you off this one time.”

Peter moaned, “Thank you.”

Tony’s thrusts became more sporadic, but not any less amazing. Peter’s voice was raw from screaming and moaning, the only noises coming from him were choked gasps of pleasure. Peter’s body tensed, his body shaking with an overwhelming need to finish. Tony slammed into Peter harder and harder, making Peter’s mouth fall open with pleasure, his vision fully blurring. The world around Peter became entirely focused on Tony’s delicious dick.

Tony’s harsh pace made Peter drool some more. He could feel the mind-numbing need to finish in his soul, it was a sweltering pleasure that was insufferable. Every movement was torture to Peter who was desperate for release.

The endless pleasure was suffocating, the tightened coil in his stomach threatening to snap with each brutal thrust of Tony’s cock. Closer and closer, Peter could feel it coming quicker and quicker. He had nothing to bite down on, so his cries of pleasure were completely unrestrained. The flames of lust wrapped itself around Peter, licking him with the sharp flames of sinful desire.

The pleasure, the pain, the searing, overwhelming, endless lust all exploded, erupting like a volcano. Peter came, his raw, fucked out voice screaming incoherent pleas. His entire body was set aflame. Tony fucked into Peter a few more times, Peter letting out little overstimulated mewls each time. Tony came deep inside of him, his hot cum branding Peter like a white-hot iron.

Tony pulled out, cum leaked out of Peter’s abused hole.

“Tony,” Peter whined, voice cracking.

Tony purred, “Sh, babe, I’ll take care of you.”

Peter nodded drowsily, content with that answer. The smoke from sex fogging up Peter’s mind, allowing him to be tranquil. Tony’s grip on Peter was gentle, taking care to be soft when untying Peter. Peter, on the other hand, purred. As long as Tony was around, he felt at ease. Tony would never let anything happen to him.

All of Peter’s limbs were lax and useless, Tony’s grip on Peter’s hips was the only thing holding him up. Tony lifted Peter up bridal style, making a dad noise. Peter snorted.

“What?” Tony asked, voice soft.

Peter smiled, “You’re funny.”

Tony said, “Someone tired?”

“Yea,” Peter said, “where are we going?”

“To clean you up,” Tony said, “but don’t worry about that, sunshine, I’ll take care of the hard parts.”

Peter smiled and nodded, but he was too drowsy to do anything else, so he just allowed himself to doze off. He was sure Tony wouldn’t mind. Tony was just nice like that. In his dreams, he felt like he was being placed amongst an endless blue sky of fluffy clouds.

#starker #nff #max writes

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy!

gif credit to @jj-maybnks

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers.

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!"

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful."

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that.

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor."

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket.

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd.

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline.

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf.

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all.

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now.

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips.

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover.

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed.

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy

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hypnotixstorm · 4 years

Note

I NEVER REALIZED THAT YOU DID SQUALL FROM FF8?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Can you do a “There’s a reason storms are named after people.” for my other baby (bc you're my main baby ofc 😘)

Whoo I had too much fun writing this lmao but yes of course I do I love him 😫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*there’s a reason storms are *･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*named after people*･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Squall Leonhart was an enigma, someone who you very rarely understood, if at all. It’s not like you were the first person to feel this way, but something about it didn’t sit right with you. You wanted to know more. You wanted to know who he was. And you were determined to figure it out. Anyone who knew that though would either laugh in your face or tell you to give up. But you wouldn’t, you refused to. You considered yourself to be a part of Squall’s “friends,” even if he didn’t.

“I don’t know why ya wanna be friends with him so bad. He‘s a jerk.”

Selphie turned with furrowed brows, marring her normally cheery complexion. “Zell! That’s not nice to say and you know it!”

“What?!” He jumped up, shaking his fist at her from a slightly crouched position. “I’m just tellin’ the truth! She doesn’t needa get her feelin’s hurt!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here with all of you, now would I?”

Zell’s shoulders slumped as he plopped back down in his chair. With a giggle, you took in the room. The group had decided to rest for the night and it would soon be time for dinner. You eyes scanned your surroundings until they found the object of your desire; Squall. He was in the corner of the room, arms crossed and foot propped on the wall as he leaned against it. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping.

Your body twitched, signaling for you to approach. However, before you could even move, Rinoa’s figure popped up in your field of vision. Jumping back in surprise, you frowned as you lost sight of the gunblade wielder.

“Hey! It’s time for dinner, let’s get going.~”

Her arm linked with yours, dragging you away before you could protest. With a grumble, you let her yank you out of the inn and down the road. Selphie giggled, skipping towards the two of you and linking her left arm with your remaining arm. Quistis watched on with an amused look, the boys all but ignoring your existence.

Dinner proceeded like most days with the party did. It wasn’t until you got back that things began to get interesting, the truth to be soon revealed. Everyone had parted ways shortly after returning, some ready to sleep, others going to bathe. But once you had finished your own shower and were laying in bed, you found yourself unable to sleep. It felt like hours had passed, even though it had been maybe an hour max.

With an irritated sigh, you threw off your covers before getting out of bed. You feverishly stuffed your feet into your shoes and began to shuffle out of the room. You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you care. All you knew was that you needed some fresh air or, something. Your feet led you to a balcony overlooking the city... and Squall.

Slowly, and a bit awkwardly, you approached the railing. He was leaning against it by his forearms. As you neared, he lazily glanced over his shoulder at you before returning his gaze in front of him. He said nothing, so you continued on, mimicking his actions and leaning against the rail. You figured that if he didn’t want you there he would have said something, or left himself.

Wind whipped your hair around you and you let out a small sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you could tell his gaze would shift to your figure every so often. Things remained silent as you focused on breathing in the cold air that seemed to nip at your flesh. The feeling of eyes burning into you made you finally break the silence.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

He grumbled, mumbling something incoherent and looking away. Blinking, you pushed yourself away from the ledge. You looked his way, staring a hole into the back of his head as you crossed your arms.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

With a sigh, he finally looked your way. “I said that you’re annoying.”

“Excuse me?”

He shook his head, looking away as he straightened his back. “You. Are. Annoying. Stupid too, apparently.”

Your eyes widened as you uncrossed your arms, anger rising. “You know what? Fuck you! Zell was right, you are a jerk, but asshole just sounds better!”

At the mention of the energetic blonde, a dark, unreadable expression flashed through his eyes. “Like I give a damn what you think about me, or anyone else for that matter.”

“All I’ve tried to do is be your friend, because everyone needs someone! It’s obvious you just don’t give a fuck.”

“Bingo. Took you long enough.” He sighed.

That was it. You marched over to his towering figure, causing him to turn to you with a blank expression. Gripping onto the front of his white t-shirt, you pulled him close, just so he could see the fury burning deep within your soul at his blatant apathetic nature.

“Do you not realize how much I care, how much we all do, about you? Why the hell else would everyone be here? Why do you think everyone looks to you as their leader? Huh? Did you ever stop to think about that or how you treat everyone? It fucking hurts, Sq-”

All it took was one small action, one tiny physical connection, for all the anger you had ever felt to dissipate from your body. Cold, chapped lips met your own plump, pink ones in a heated tango. The feeling was foreign and rough, neither of you quite sure what you were doing. Gasps for air and whines of want tumbled from your throat, egging the both of you on. Your grip released his shirt as the tension melted, your hand instead choosing to rest on his racing heart. His large, calloused hands brushed against your temples as his long fingers tangled within your tresses.

Things were quickly heating up and, even between the smacking of lips, you knew where this was headed. It didn’t take long for him to realize either,sweeping you off of your feet and into his arms. The kiss only broke as you re-entered the inn, making your way to his room in peaceful silence. Well, it would’ve been if your hormones weren’t raging. And, to top it all off, Quistis just so happened to still be up. As your embarrassment flourished, she shot you a smirk and knowing look.

Once the two of you returned to his room, Squall tossed you on the bed before shrugging off his jacked. His body was almost instantly hovering over yours and his lips attached to yours once again. It was as if nothing had ever stopped, With unsure movements, his hands began to roam your body. Hums and sighs dripped from your lips at his touch, which only made him smirk. He pulled away tugging off his shirt before reaching for your own. Your hand gripped onto his almost instantly, halting his actions.

"I thought you hated me...”

"I do.”

"But then why-”

“I hate how you make me feel. I hate how you make me want to be a better person. I hate that I can’t actually hate you.”

You blinked, eyes wide at his declaration before he dipped down once more.

Every movement. Every moment. Every intimate word. Every last bit of it was something you would never forget. With how arrogant and apathetic he was on the surface, you never would have expected this. So soft and caring, receptive to every little sound you made. All he did was aim to please, hitting that one spot that caused white to wash over your vision. The way he could go from animalistic to compassionate in the blink of an eye, sent you spinning.

After all, there’s a reason storms are named after people.

And you loved every second of it.

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waywardfacegarden · 4 years

Note

Hey there! I saw that "ask me about my fic" post and thought I'd ask some questions!! Specifically regarding your "The sun is too bright, it hurts" one; questions 1, 3, 4, 7 and 8? 👀

Hello there!!! First of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING, YOU’RE SO NICE!!!!! ;---; Honestly, I love you so much.

Second of all, AAAAAH, THAT FIC. I really love that one, is one of the first works I did for my boys!!!! I have a soft spot for it. (That said, I actually reread it to answer this LOL, because as much as I remembered a lot of it, I also didn’t remember a lot of specifc dialog/narration of it, haha.)

Answers under the cut because I, somehow, managed to do this unnecessarily long, LOL. I’m sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope you don’t mind me babbling a lot about my own fic, haha.

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Well, I was inspired to write that AU because I’m weak for the idea of Sasuke and Naruto being childhood friends!! Haha. And I just easily pictured them growing up together with their families being friends. It’s something that I think would happen in a modern au, and I really wanted to explore the relationship of two people growing up together, being there in all of their different phases (and the challenge of having to write them at different ages, because as much as the essence of who they are is the same, they don’t act exactly the same, you know?), knowing each other better than anyone else. They would come to love every single one of the aspects that makes them them; like, even if something must be annoying, it’s endearing for the other at this point, and I find that very tender and soft.

As for the way that it’s written, I find it easier to guide myself while writing if I divide the story in “short stories/scenes”, so that’s why it’s like that (if you look at my fics, I always “divide” my stories, haha). I also really like the narrative that goes, for example, “October. 1990. 15 years old.”, because, (for me at least), it’s so much easier to imagine the environment/context/scene like that? It also gives me off movie vibes, tbh😂😂

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I apologize in advance because I’m going to make this reply excessively long, even when the ask is so simple😂😂 While I was re-reading, I found a lot of quotes/parts that I liked a lot, so please indulge myself and look at all my word vomit, lol (the parts in bold letters are what I especially love about that specific excerpt):

[[AH! AND ALSO! I realized I made a LOT of grammar mistakes in the fic when I was re-reading today, it’s kind of embarrassing ahhh, haha. It needs heavy editing, huh. But anyways, so, in some lines here, I changed some words for what I actually wanted to write/what’s grammatically correct, now that I know more about english, haha. So in some lines they’re a bit different from the actual fic.]]

My favorite, favorite line, for reason, is this one:

Sasuke’s heart flutters on his chest, like flower’s petals in the wind, like a butterfly flapping its wings.

I don’t know, I really, really, REALLY love metaphors and I like the way it was phrased here?? Like, the words I chose sound so pretty for me, haha.

My second favorite line is this one, simply because I’m a cheesy dork:

Sasuke does not know when he fell in love with Naruto; he probably was always a bit in love with him.

Another lines of narration I really, really love:

His love for Naruto reminds him of that. Destruction. Storms, tornadoes. Because it’s brutal, too intense, too strong. It is inexhaustible. It’s unexpected and unpredictable and it makes his stomach ache.

^^ That one is just. Really what I think Sasuke feels like about falling in love, and more than anything, falling in love with Naruto, so I really love it. I have an obsession on making love sound messy and chaotic, too, tbh, haha. Guilty.

[…] and his voice sounds tired, because he’s tired, he can’t stand it anymore, and he’s stupid, stupid, stupid, because Sasuke wants to cry, and because Sasuke wants to kiss Naruto while he cries because Sasuke is a damn tragedy walking, but he can’t, he can’t and that’s hard.

I really like this one because I honest to God think Sasuke is a damn tragedy walking (and I’m saying this like a good thing, he’s my favorite disaster, haha). He’s just, idk, really a disaster, and I can easily picture him having a meltdown because he loves Naruto so much that he can’t even stand it, and he’s tired of hiding it, and he’s tired of everything, and he just wants to fucking cry but he also wants to kiss Naruto AND kiss Naruto while he cries, even if that’s weird. Idk, Sasuke just strikes me as the kind of guy who would want to kiss the love of his life while crying, LOL.

[…] he’s so close that, for a moment, the only thing he can see is blue. Blue, blue, eternal, endless, inexhaustible, precious blue; that swallows him, that overwhelms him, that suffocates him.

I remember being so proud of this part because, as you can see, I’m obsessed with Naruto’s eyes😂😂 And then when I showed the story to my sister she laughed her ass off here LMAO. She gave me A Look. LOL. She saw through me like a book, she knows I just tried to sound poetic but I suck LOL. But I still really like this part.

And Naruto is smiling, and Naruto is there and everywhere and Sasuke wants to drown in him.

So he does.

ASDJLFJLSDFKDL. The idea of Sasuke wanting to drown in Naruto is just. I love it, lol.

He kisses him as he should be kissed. […] He kisses him and Naruto kisses him back and Sasuke almost sighs. Because it feels so good to be real; because it feels like falling into bed after a long and tiring day. It feels like a hot shower against your aching body and like the emotion you feel when climbing a roller coaster.

For some reason, I love writing kisses, LOL, and I wanted to convey so much through this one. Like both of them have been wanting to kiss the other for years, now, but you could feel Sasuke’s desperation especially, and I really wanted the kiss to feel like “God, finally, finally” but also “this is it. This is what home feels like”. I feel like it probably still lacks something, but I still like how I put it into words.

[Now, I really hope you don’t hate me for this LOL, but I’ll add the complete parts I like, even when they have dialogue. It’s this case where bold letters are the lines that I especially love about the part.]

Naruto takes a step forward, a long one, and cuts the distance between them. Sasuke’s heart flutters on his chest, like flower’s petals in the wind, like a butterfly flapping its wings. Naruto is so close that Sasuke can see the three soft freckles on his cheekbones. He can distinguish each one of his golden eyelashes shining against his eyelids. He can see the way the iris in his eyes is darker on the edge; the shape of his lips, cracked, that make Sasuke’s mouth become very dry. And heck, they are moving, so Naruto is talking.

“Sasuke,” Naruto says, and his voice is soft and soothing in the loneliness of the hallway. His fingers are like burning embers when he places them on his shoulder. “Look at me, Sasuke.”

And Sasuke obeys. He turns around and looks at him, and Naruto has a storm inside those pretty eyes, and Sasuke just wants… he just wants… “Honestly, I would kill myself if I had that face.”

God fucking dammit.

“He was talking about you.” He answers, finally, and his voice gets stuck and tightens in his throat.

Naruto blinks, surprise flooding the light blue of his eyes. “Oh,” he says, so low that if they were not four inches away in a desolate corridor, Sasuke would not have heard it.

“Itachi is waiting for me.” He says, because he really wants to leave; he wants Naruto to stop looking at him like that.

“Itachi asked me to check up your injuries, Sasuke. Itachi is not angry. I guess he deduced what happened, he’s smart, so…”

“I’m not hurt, Naruto. Now let me go.”

Naruto stops pressing the cold gauze on the torn skin of his knuckles. The soft fabric burns and itches on his skin, but not as much as the way Naruto keeps looking at him, hell.

They are 15 years old and Naruto is the most beautiful boy he has ever seen. Naruto has grown up and he’s taller now, almost as tall as Sasuke is, and has the most beautiful blue, cerulean eyes (beautiful as the clear water of the lakes, beautiful as the sky on summer mornings), and long, blond eyelashes and cute lips and messy hair kissed by the sun. He’s gorgeous. And maybe Sasuke is paying too much attention, but hell, it’s hard not to.

They are 15 years old and Sasuke would hit a three-meter bully for that boy. Sasuke would do anything for that boy.

He says, with a smile that covers half of his face. His hair is messier than usual and several blond strands fall on his forehead. His blue eyes sparkle in the darkness. His blue shirt sticks to him in all the right angles and Sasuke thinks if you were not so damn attractive, I would surely kill you right now, you idiot. But he doesn’t say it, because of course, that’s not something you would say to your best friend.

“Naruto, I’m not going to get into your father’s van in the middle of the night and drive to a Waffle House at twelve in the morning.”

Naruto seems confused. He keeps his balance on the window frame and raises his hand to show him the set of keys. “No problem, Sas. I have the keys.”

- [I really like this one because just, the idea of them going to a Waffle House in the middle of the night is a favorite of mine, and the dialogue of Sasuke being like “i’m not going to drive to a waffle house at fucking 12am” and Naruto being just like “no worries, i have the keys” because he thinks the problem is that Sasuke doesn’t want to steal the car is so funny LMAO. Also, I live for Naruto calling him “Sas”.]

Damn fucking Naruto. Fuck his stupid heart. Fuck the one who decided up there that it would be a good idea to give him a nice smile and a beautiful personality and the eyes of Gods. Fuck the one who decided it would be good for Sasuke to fall in love with a stupid blonde with a heart of gold, stubborn as hell. Fuck the one who thought it would be a good idea for Sasuke to like his best friend. Fuck the one who decided that Waffle Houses could open for 24 hours. Fuck Naruto with his beautiful eyes; damn, damn, damn and fucking dammit.

- [I LAUGH SO HARD AT THIS PART. Like poor dude, he’s just so Done about having a crush and being in love with his Best Friend LMAO. I love how he curses the Gods and Everyone and Naruto Especially while also changing and going downstairs to go out with said crush.]

It’s strange that he’s so quiet, but at least Sasuke can look at him out of the corner of his eye from time to time. And when the light from the headlights on the side of the street hits him right in the face, and Sasuke can admire how beautiful he is, how stunning his eyes are and how bright they look and how his hair is gleaming and the so pretty and alluring that is the whole him, all of him… is those moments when Sasuke thinks that, maybe, it was not such a bad idea that Naruto woke him up in the middle of the night to drive to a Waffle House. Maybe, it’s not so bad that Naruto is crazy. Maybe, it’s not so bad that Sasuke is in love with him.

You know how in that tragic movie where the girl has cancer she says something in the beginning like “I fell in love with him like falling asleep, suddenly and without realizing it”? Yes, well. Sasuke used to make fun of that, even if Naruto thought it was very romantic. But now, as he sees his best friend smiling in a damn suit that fits his body in all the right places, now that he sees him laughing with the gym lights doing wonders on his tanned skin, now that he is listening to him talk and laugh and just being him, being happy… now he understands it. Sasuke does not know when he fell in love with Naruto; he probably was always a bit in love with him. He does not know when it happened or why, the only thing he knows now is that he is completely, totally, utterly, head-over-heels in love with him, so much so that it is ridiculous.

The realization hits him. Hard and strong against his stomach, like the thousands of stones and heaps of earth in an avalanche. Destroying cliffs, roads.

It’s like when you have a leak in your house and you do not fix it and you probably don’t realize the damage it is doing until after weeks the hole on the cement floor is too big to ignore. It’s like the snowball that is falling and growing on the steep hill that you don’t notice until it’s too late.

It’s just like that.

And the realization is so big and so brutal that it terrifies him, because Sasuke not only loves Naruto, Sasuke is in love with him. He loves every damn part of him in the rawest and realest way possible and it scares him so much that he can’t stand it.

“Naruto. I’m not in the mood,” he says, and his voice sounds tired, because he’s tired, he can’t stand it anymore, and he’s stupid, stupid, stupid, because Sasuke wants to cry, and because Sasuke wants to kiss Naruto while he cries because Sasuke is a damn tragedy walking, but he can’t, he can’t and that’s hard.

[…] he’s so close that, for a moment, the only thing he can see is blue. Blue, blue, eternal, endless, inexhaustible, precious blue; that swallows him, that overwhelms him, that suffocates him.

He’s as close as that time when they…

“Sasuke, you’re a fucking idiot.” He says, his breath warm against his own lips.

[…]

He’s as close as that time when they kissed.

Naruto is kissing him, Holy…

It’s abrupt and so sudden and Sasuke has not closed his eyes, (Sasuke can’t even believe it to begin with, because they’re kissing), but Naruto does, so he can see the thin, long golden lashes that flutter softly against his own cheekbones. They tickle him. He can see the cascade of hair on his forehead and the mess of color on his skin and everything is so familiar. The cracked feeling of his lips, the blue so close, the hair that tickles Sasuke… It’s making him dizzy. Everything is so familiar, and yet so different at the same time. It’s coarser, stronger.

Naruto doesn’t seem to know what he is doing though; he just keeps pressing his lips so hard against his that Sasuke thinks he might knock a tooth out of him. His fingers continue to cling to his tie, crumpling it between his fingernails, and it’s…

Sasuke doesn’t care. Because Naruto is kissing him, and even if he’s clumsy, Naruto is kissing him, and his heartbeat thunders into his ears, the blood rushes in his veins and everything is chaos.

With Naruto everything is chaos.

Like the storms.

Like hurricanes.

Everything is too intense and strong and…

“You know what?” He says, and he continues laughing, but not so much anymore. “Ino said you would make exactly that face.”

Sasuke blinks. What?

“Did you tell Ino about—” Sasuke doesn’t quite know how to define it, even if he’s supposed to be good with words, so he just manages to move his hand between them in a movement that Naruto would do, and adds, “—this?”

Naruto gives him a sideways little smile. “Actually, I told Shikamaru, Ino was just there.”

Once again. What?

“What?”

Naruto grins. Bright and toothy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Sasuke, teme. You’re easier to read than you think.”

Sasuke is about to yell at him because what? But then Naruto’s smile softens, and it’s sweet and tender and intimate. And the words that come out of his lips moments later roll off his tongue and roll up through the air and dance and spin and hit Sasuke with such force that he practically staggers.

“I love you too, you bastard.”

It’s too much.

And Naruto is smiling, and Naruto is there and everywhere and Sasuke wants to drown in him.

So he does. He takes a step and closes the distance between them and drowns in him.

One of his hands takes him from the suit and brings him closer while the other slips behind him and mixes with the strands of hair that are too soft against his skin. And then he kisses him again. He kisses him as he should be kissed. He kisses the brain out of him and leans against his personal space and enters his bubble of warmth, the warmth that radiates from every pore of his being. He kisses him and gets drunk with his smell and his skin and all of him.

He kisses him and Naruto kisses him back and Sasuke almost sighs. Because it feels so good to be real; because it feels like falling into bed after a long and tiring day. It feels like a hot shower against your aching body and like the emotion you feel when climbing a roller coaster.

It’s all at once.

Rawly intense and gently soothing.

It’s chaos.

And he kisses him again and again and again and again and again and again and again until he loses the count.

“You know what?” Naruto says in a moment. His voice is agitated and his breathing is uneven and unsteady and he is trying to pull more air inside of him. And his lips are a little swollen and Sasuke kisses him again, short and fast, before he speaks again, because Sasuke can’t help it and stop now. “Now that I think about it, I’m much better at expressing myself than you are.”

“Shut up, usuratonkachi.”

Naruto laughs. And it’s the most beautiful thing Sasuke has ever heard before.

ALSO. I absolutely ADORE the part where they’re 15. Like, how Sasuke keeps thinking “Naruto’s too much” because his sole presence overwhelms him, the fact that he keeps thinking about kissing him, the fact that he can’t take his eyes off him, the fact that he hit someone so freaking hard because they said they would “kill themselves if they had that [Naruto’s] face”, the fact that he was jealous of girls noticing Naruto because of his looks, because “yeah, Naruto was so goddamn attractive (he keeps thinking about touching him, wondering about how his skin would feel against his fingers, wanting to touch his face, his hair, daydreaming about his eyes. Dude is just Gone LOL), but ALSO, would yOU DUMB GIRLS HEAR ABOUT HIS STORIES ABOUT RAMEN??? WOULD YOU HEAR HIM BABBLE ABOUT HIS FAVORITE DUMB MOVIES AND POP MUSIC??? WOULD YOU??? WELL, I DO!!!! SO FUCK OFF!!!!!!” LMAO. I LIVE for Sasuke’s Gay Crisis and him realizing he finds his best friend criminally attractive and endearing.

(I’M SO SORRY FOR MAKING THIS ANSWER SO LONG, OMG).

4. What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Because I’m predictable and also because, like I said, I’m a cheesy dork, my favorite line is: “I love you too, you bastard.” It just has so much power, for me. It’s so intimate and I love how Naruto says “too” even when Sasuke doesn’t say it out loud before, because Naruto just knows. It’s so gentle, even when he’s calling him “bastard” (that at this point is actually a pet name rather than an insult LMAO).

Bonus to:

“Sasuke, you’re a fucking idiot.”

I really love it LMAO. I like it because I find it funny that it’s what Naruto says just before he kisses him, but also because it’s actually so tender, too??? Like Sasuke was all “MAYBE I DON’T LIKE YOU ANYMORE, HUH?!?! MAYBE AFTER ALL THESE YEARS I FINALLY GOT TIRED OF YOU”; he’s throwing all this drama but he’s actually spilling his heart out and Naruto can see all through it, he can literally see what he’s actually thinking, and it just. Hits. Hard. So he’s just like, “I’m gonna cut this bullshit right here” and goes “Sasuke, you’re a fucking idiot”, with a tone that basically means actually that, like “sasuke, you fucking IDIOT. i KNOW. i KNOW. stop hurting yourself”, and it just gets me, haha.

“Do you want to go to the prom with me?” […] “I’m serious, Sas. I want you to go with me.”

I was so excited when I wrote those two lines. Again, I’m weak for Naruto calling him “Sas”, and I wanted so bad Naruto asking him to prom. Even if it’s not with a big gesture, it FEELS like so much for both of them. And I wanted to make sure that it sounded like he wasn’t joking around, even if he made the proposal “easier to digest” by phrasing it later like he was asking Sasuke just because he was his best friend and he wanted him to have fun with him (which, yeah, but he also knew about Sasuke being in love with him, and Naruto was, too, so he was just being assertive in the situation, trying to make it easier for Sasuke because he knows him, and he knows how big it already feels like for him just being asked as a friend).

“Because I want you to take your head out of your ass for a moment and have fun with your best friend?”

Naruto telling Sasuke to take his head out of his ass is my favorite thing ever LMAO.

7. Where did the title come from?

To be honest, I’m TERRIBLE to put titles. I always forget to name my fics, because I focus on the story itself first, haha. I always save the docs in word like “childhood friends au sns” or “christmas au” or things like that, planning to actually name them later, but I ALWAYS forget to do it. I always remember when I actually have to put a name to it because I’m about to post it on AO3 and it asks me for a title first, LOL. So, basically, this one (and all my other titles) came up last minute. I have always liked when Naruto is compared to the Sun (I do it at the end of the fic, too, haha), and I thought the fic itself revolves around Sasuke’s love for Naruto, Sasuke’s journey to get to know Naruto and fall for him, and Sasuke realizing his feelings and being constantly overwhelmed by them because of they’re so strong and so deep and because Naruto just feels like Too Much sometimes (in a good, messy way) to him. So I thought it was accurate to call it “The Sun is too bright, it hurts”, because for me, it basically encompasses what the fic is about: Naruto is too much sometimes that it actually hurts Sasuke, because he Can’t Handle Feelings and it’s Suffocating and Overwhelming and Scary, but it’s okay at the end, because Naruto feels just as much as him. (I actually wanted to add “but it’s okay” at the end, but I felt like it was too long already LOL).

8. Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

It’s not actually real people or real events, but I actually based the scene where Sasuke saves Naruto from getting run over by a car from one of my favorite, favorite scenes in Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. It’s a lot like the one there in the book, but I found it a very Sasuke Thing to do, and I also liked how it lined up with the fact that “Sasuke’s feet moved on its own” in actual canon. Boy is willing to give his life for Naruto in any universe and I respect that, LOL.

The scene where people were talking shit about Naruto’s face is based from a scene I watched on the movie Wonder. I always cry with the movie and I had just watched it before writing the fic, so I wanted to write something based on that scene because it got me hard.

It’s also pretty obvious, but the accidental kiss is there because I absolutely Love it and I have mad respect for Kishimoto for that, so if I can, I’m going to make that accidental kiss happen in every single fic I write for them LOL.

Anyways, that would be all!!!!! I’m so sorry for making this hella long, lol, but I’m honestly so happy you were curious about this fic!!!! Like I said, I have a soft spot for this one, just as much as I have a soft spot for SNS. They will always be my favorite boys and my favorite ship ever. And I really enjoyed re-reading my own stuff and remembering my feelings while writing it years ago. AND IT JUST. MEANS A LOT TO ME???? This fic is from YEARS ago, and the fact that you ask about it just means more than I can express with words. SO, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING, HONESTLY.

I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING AN AMAZING DAY/NIGHT. I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BEYOND. HOPE YOU’RE SAFE, OKAY AND HAPPY. <333333333333333 LOTS OF LOVE FOR YOU!!!!!

#asks #my writing #my fics #sns #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING YOU'RE SO SWEET I CAN'T BELIEVE IT #i love you!!! ;--;#i really really appreciate it #and i really really hope you're doing fine #SENDING YOU HUGS AND WARM POSITIVE VIBES!!!!!!!!#the sun is too bright it hurts #this is soooo criminally long tho #i'm so sorry omg #why am i like this #why do i talk a lot

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Two Sides of the Coin (11)

Chapter 11: Innocence, Lost and Found | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: The header was supposed to be a Spotify link but it looked so inconsistent with how I usually lay out my fics here that my OCD kicked in and jumped ship lmao anyway, the mood song I had in mind for this chapter was “I Won’t Say I’m in Love” from Hercules UwU Also, sorry that this chapter went a bit beyond my usual word count, I got carried away with the fluff ;;A;;

Also tagging: @berenilion @stellar-trinity @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @peterwandaparker @cal-jestis @justtinfoley @fallenjedii @queen-destenie @calgasm @sweeetteaa @calsponchoemporium @superwarsofthrones @ayamenimthiriel

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 | Previous: Part 10 | Next: Part 12 | Masterlist

11 of ?

Whether or not Jidné knew, Cal heard her squeals’ echoes in the distance as she sprinted away. He smiled to himself, even after her sound had died down. He could’ve sworn he felt his heart slow down and then make the biggest thump that he thought it’d burst right through his ribs. He clutched his chest where Jidné’s hand lay just mere minutes ago.

Cal let out a sigh and threw himself backwards to the soil, a bed of grass cushioned his fall and now he’s facing up at the first stars of the evening sky. He used his hands as a pillow for his head while BD-1 snuggles to his side.

“Beee, trill?”

“Yeah, BD-1… I feel great!” Cal laughed.

He stared up at the stars and counted them silently; however, the longer he stared, the more he remembered Jidné and everything the two of them did together. The faintness of her shy giggles lingered behind his ears, parts of his skin where Jidné had touched burned and tingled; he intentionally kept his eyes closed after blinking to reimagine those dark, soulful irises staring back at him accompanied by the coy smile that curled along her lips.

His free hand cupped his mouth as he remained lying on the grass, fantasizing of the kiss that almost was; more stars and fleeting comets riddled the deep blue sky, silver plumes of clouds loomed in front of the platinum moon. He exhaled nasally and closed his eyes again, his mind replayed the moments of their interactions these past few days. His mind repeated the last thing Jidné said before she said good night and left.

“You always seem to have a way of finding me,”

That sentence circled his mind the whole night and reminisced the moments where they found each other in the uncanny of timings—it all began when he followed the sound of her voice, ever since then, he always stumbles his way to her and he’ll be greeted with the same warmth from the same, kind smile. Over and over, his head replayed the image of her—in every angle, in every silhouette, and in every light; his fingers slowly curled inward upon the fantasy of feeling her tiny hands nestled between his roughened hands and the way she held his hand to use her Force Shroud on both of them when escaping the bounty hunters who chased him in Diitana.

Cal wondered if the Force had willed the two of them to meet. He wished that the Force would speak in words to tell him straight in the face—or at least send a sign, even if technically that’s not how the Force works.

His hand wandered to his chest again, feeling for his racing heartbeat and clutching the fabric of his jacket to calm down the swirling storm within his ribcage. He coaxed himself to stand up and return to the Mantis, when he did come back, he was greeted with teasing glares from the crew.

“Well, you seem to be in high spirits at such an untimely hour,”

“Is that bad?”

Cere shook her head while smiling, she mouthed “No.”

The redheaded Jedi slept through the night with butterflies in his stomach and a smile he couldn’t completely wipe off of his face even if he wanted to.

Jidné had returned to the confinement of the Scarab. ID-3 hopped out of her shoulder and hovered about, meanwhile she pressed her back against the cold metal door as she caught her breath—parched and wheezing from the panting and the in-between giggles to herself.

She patted the body of her jacket and remembered the shard she picked up back in the Mantis. She fished it out of her pocket and held the shard between her fingers.

“ID-3, can you analyze, please?”

The droid obliged, a small tray slid open from its body where Jidné gingerly dropped the shard in, ID-3 hovered to the computer along the walls of the lounge and plugged in his port connector. An image of the shard larger than its actual size appeared as a projection, inscriptions and panels of information flashed on the screen—attempting to decipher what this shard had when it was still whole was a bit of a stretch, but Jidné’s resourcefulness as a bounty hunter came into play.

“Beeep, chirp?”

“This shard could be only the shell part; but it’s sizable, it could be part of the core—then the contents would still be intact… some of them though,” Jidné thought out loud, nipping the tip of her thumb as she pondered. “But what if I could…?”

The words trailed off, but the idea remained. She debated against herself regarding the reality of her idea.

“Trill, beee?” ID-3 inquired, noticing the apparent silence from his owner.

“Would meditating even work…?”

Nonetheless, she gave it a try. ID-3 relinquished the shard out of his compartment and handed it over to Jidné. For the rest of the night, in the solace of her bedroom, she meditated deeply on that little emerald shard not bigger than Cal’s second kyber crystal. Behind her eyes, she could see a map of sorts, she recognizes the planets on them but got confused when she found two planets of two different systems near each other, tiny inscriptions grew in size until they were readable—the Aurebesh danced and flickered in her eyes until they stayed put to make the words.

The words turned into names of planets and of people, she caught a glimpse of a child using the Force—she could feel the child’s fascination with their newfound ability, despite not fully grasping their capability yet. Jidné questioned the Force in her mind why did it show her a child using the Force to play.

Her eyes shot up, unable to make of what she saw in her visions.

“What does it have to do with a kid? Unless…” Jidné pondered briefly, and then dismissed the thought. “That doesn’t help in clearing things up. I should go to bed.”

ID-3 trilled in agreement, sprinkling in some teases—pointing out how Jidné blushed fiercely when she was together with Cal.

“Can you not, you little saucer?!” Jidné screeched quite defensively.

The disc-shaped droid laughed—a robotic croaking of a single note, nonetheless a cheery one. Jidné snatched her droid into her arms and hugged him as their laughing mingled. She and ID retired to the captain’s quarters; Jidné shed off the cowl and jacket, leaving out the tank top that she wears underneath it, and pulled away the boots from her feet before bringing them up to the bed.

Jidné spaced out staring at the ceiling, absentmindedly she rubbed her hands together, feeling for Cal’s touch. She sighed and closed her eyes, remembering the sensation simply through touch.

“His hands… are so gentle,” she muttered, lightly clenching her fingers and rubbing the back of her hand until she drifted off to sleep.

Cal woke up hopeful the next morning. He was like a child again—incapable of hiding his excitement and eagerness while moving with such haste. When he joined everyone for breakfast, they watched how chipper the boy is as he scarfed down his breakfast in ten bites or less.

“Kid, kid, don’t you want a glass of water first after gobbling up your food all at once?” Greez beckoned, handing over Cal’s glass to him before the young redhead could get any farther from the table.

“Can’t have you choking on your words and breakfast at the same time when you face Jidné,” Merrin blurted, sipping on her cup of tea.

“No, I won’t choke!” Cal rebuked.

“Uh-huh,”

Regardless, Cal did take a gulp of water from the glass that Greez had offered him. He stood from his seat at the table and beckoned BD-1 to come along, the little droid hopped on over on his shoulder as he went down the stairs until he disappeared from the Mantis.

East of Diitana is a forest, a few miles away from where he and Jidné first met. He brushed his way through the shrubs. He used his climbing claws to scale the great trees to get a better view of the lay of the land, he pushed away curtains of vines that blocked his way to the next branch until he got the topmost of the tree he climbed up on.

The next thing he saw took his breath away—the expanse of Ombari from what ought to be the highest vantage point he’s ever been on. Green and orange clashed, evergreen treelines touched with the red mountain ridges of the badlands: a dramatic contrast of colors of terrain.

“Wow, would you look at that!” Cal gasped.

“Triiiiiiilll!!!”

He scanned the red plateaus, mountain ranges, and mesas that walled the continent from the next land mass beyond. On the other side continued the lushness of Ombari’s land—a meadow that stretched wide with rich green grass for the herbivores to graze on, a great lake and waterfall could be seen at the farthest end.

The wind blew in his freckled face, the cool breeze ruffled his soft locks and swayed them as if they danced along with the current. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up, savoring the fresh air while being on top of the world. His heart couldn’t take the excitement, it stormed within his chest as he panned his head from west to east of the entire planet.

“Come on, BD, let’s go around some more!”

“Beep!”

Climbing up the great tree was a challenge, but the hardest was finding his way back down. Perched upon on the thick, sturdy branches, Cal strategized how he’ll get back on the ground that’s about twenty feet below him. He spotted coiled vines dangling from the treetops.

“I sure hope this works,” Cal uttered to no one in particular.

The boy thought he could make the jump and grab a vine to slip his way down, he instantly regretted it the moment he was suspended in the air—he desperately clawed the air in the hopes of catching at least a single vine. It was too late for him to catch one using Force pull, in turn, it’s the vines and lianas that caught him! During his fall, some of the snapped from the impact, others wrapped around him in different portions of his body; they tangled and coiled around his legs as he fell.

While he was saved from an apparent fatal head and neck injury, poor Cal dangled with his head just three feet above the forest floor. The flap of his poncho flopped upside down, obscuring his entire upper body. He grumbled, flailing around helplessly as he tried to reach for the vines that snaked around his legs, unfortunately, his poncho didn’t budge.

“Well, this is just spectacular!” sighed the upside-down Jedi in great vexation.

On the other hand, BD-1 wasn’t the one who’s got their legs stuck around tree vines. He hopped down from Cal in the first few minutes he got himself suspended with his head pointed down.

“BD-1? BD, who’s coming? Who’s there?”

He craned his head and saw a pair of boots peeking under. Two hands hiked up the hem of Cal’s poncho to reveal his face.

“Hey,” Jidné greeted casually. “How’s it hangin’?”

“Hah! Ha…” Cal half-heartedly chuckled. He playfully crossed his arms. “Oh, you know, not falling far from the tree.”

They concluded the exchange of tree and hanging puns with laughs. It pained them that giggling it away felt like the best resolution for both of them.

“Alright, I’m gonna cut off the vines for you,”

Jidné lets go of the poncho while Cal repeatedly barked “No!” and “Wait!” in the same sentence. His hands blindly pawed the air in search of Jidné, but she had already stepped away to a safe distance. She lobbed her weapon at the vines, the blade fanned through the air until it severed the vines a few inches above Cal’s legs—the boy’s body anticipated a fall, instead he felt like he’s floating. He finally pushed away the poncho that obscured his face and found Jidné’s free hand directed at him, she’d caught him using the Force and gently laid him down while her sword hand caught the returning lightsaber after she threw it.

“Thanks,”

“No problem,” Jidné shrugged her shoulders and gave him her hand to bring him up to his feet.

Cal dusted off the leaves and specks of dirt that clumped on his clothes; he got flustered all of a sudden when he saw Jidné bringing her hand close to his face and was proved otherwise when she picked out a leaf that got caught in his hair.

“You okay?”

Cal nodded and then the bounty hunter tilted her head back, emphasizing on the height of the tree in which the Jedi fell from.

“What were you doing up there, anyway?”

“Oh you know, trying to get a better look of Ombari—in a certain point of view,”

“Did you find anything interesting?”

“Glad you asked!”

Instead of answering her directly, he takes her by the hand again and led her to where the meadow ought to be. Cal could feel Jidné’s grip tighten around his and even if she may not feel it—he squeezed it back; together, they followed an invisible path that perhaps only the two of them could see. Bushes and shrubs snapped and rustled when the Jedi and bounty hunter shouldered their way through, dried and withered leaves crunched and got whisked into the air by their heels, and the dewy mist cooled their pores as they dashed.

At the end of their run, their finish line was the seemingly endless vastness of the meadow. They scanned the sights as they caught their breaths. Long-stalked flowers, as well as the grass, danced pliantly in the direction of the wind. The faint crash of the waterfall in the lake echoed and mingled with the bellowing of the grazing herbivores.

“Oh my…” Jidné gasped. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Over here, Jidné!”

Jidné was startled to find that Cal had run off a few meters away from her already, she raced and caught up to him. Both of them frolicked gaily, drawing attention from the grazing animals that they passed by, their droids hovered and fluttered about like mechanical butterflies while following their owners. BD-1 and ID-3 scanned the grazers for their databanks.

“What is it, BD?”

“Trill, bee!”

In translation, BD-1 told Cal about these grazing animals—the Q’aval, a docile animal that can easily be domesticated for labor such as pulling carts or serving as mounts, though in the wild, they can be quite a handful to tame and they pack a mean kick especially with their hind legs.

Cal decided it was a good idea to approach one of them amongst the herd. At first it whinnied and slightly reared when the animal saw the human boy approach it. He cooed “It’s okay” in soft whispers repeatedly while cautiously stepping towards the Q’aval, the gentle pat of Cal’s hand calmed down the majestic, hooved beast and nickered softly.

“There we go,”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jidné warned.

“It’ll be okay,” Cal reassured her while petting the Q’aval’s long, downward muzzle.

He noticed that Jidné stood there frigidly while examining the animal, he noticed the nervousness conflicting with the fascination in her face.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t bite,”

As much as Jidné wanted to pet the Q’aval too, her hands trembled profusely as she hoisted them to the level of the animal’s muzzle. Cal carefully took her hand and guided it towards the muzzle, his free hand then found the small of her back to comfort her. Her slender fingers came into contact with the curve of the animal’s jaw and by impulse, she petted it in a smooth pace.

The Q’aval quickly warmed up to Cal and Jidné, nudging its head closer to them to demand more pats and they gladly obliged. In the right timing, Cal quickly mounted the steed, it reared for a few moments as it was startled by the sudden weight that bore on its back; Jidné kept her distance from the Q’aval that bucked and kicked even though Cal was continuously petting its broad neck.

“Wanna hitch a ride?” Cal blurted.

Jidné scoffed a chuckle, resorting to petting the animal’s neck, “Is it safe?”

“Sure, do you trust me?”

The girl’s head jerked to Cal. There’s the child-like yet tender gaze looking back at her, the gleaming emerald eyes that always had a natural allure that she couldn’t take her own eyes off of them, and then the coy and inviting smile to top it all off.

“I do,”

She approached him, he extended his hand to which she gladly takes. With a sudden might, he hoisted her to the back of the Q’aval with him; out of instinct, she snaked her arms around his waist to keep herself balanced upon the mount. BD-1 gently perched upon the animal’s mane while ID-3 returned to Jidné’s shoulders. Cal licked his lips and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“Don’t ever let go,”

Jidné intertwined her fingers much tighter together and buckled closer to Cal.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

A gentle yet abrupt kick spurred the Q’aval to gallop across the meadow. The animal’s speed was breathtaking yet empowering; their hairs danced in the wind as they ran towards the never-ending horizon. Neither of the two Jedi have ever felt anything like this—it was simply astonishing!

The Q’aval made for the hills, as if in an attempt to show them the greater breadth of the planet. To their surprise, they’ve been revealed the coastline of Ombari’s main continent—black rocks framed the deep blue ocean with ivory seafoam that striped its waters, a shore of golden sand lined the beaches from one rock formation to the other. Cal felt Jidné rest her chin upon the edge of his shoulder.

“Oh wow…” she gasped, the sight of the coastline had stolen all of the air in her lungs in wonderment. She swooned. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

Cal could feel her smile at the same time their fingers intertwine.

They returned to the meadow and dismounted the Q’aval which they thanked with a lot of pats before it returned to its herd.

They refreshed their parched throats with the sweet, cool water from the lake and rested by its banks. They settled atop the peak of another small hill where they can see the whole view of the animals and the waterfall. Jidné stretched out her legs on the earth and propped herself leisurely on her elbows while Cal drew his knees close to his chest where he can rest his arms.

“I never saw myself being in a situation like this,” Jidné initiated.

“What do you mean?”

“Back then, I barely had the time to explore in the same way as this. I understood that Master Anesh just wanted to keep me within a safe distance, but I felt like I kinda missed out on how worlds really looked like.”

“Well, we managed to see how Ombari really looks like,” Cal chirped.

Jidné turned to Cal and shot him a smile, “You’re right about that.”

“Actually, it’s really nice to lay low for once,”

“Oh? You hiding from someone?”

“Well yes… but actually no,”

The uncertain n tone in Cal’s voice made him sound like he’s questioning even himself. Jidné tilted her head and shot him a look to go on and say what he meant.

“These past few days, Inquisitors and Imperials have been chasing us back and forth for a Holocron,”

“The Inquisitors, I’ve heard about them,” Jidné trailed. “What do they want with a Holocron?”

“Well, it contains the list of all the Force-sensitive children,” Cal looked at Jidné in the eye. “The next generation of Jedi.”

Jidné’s heart raced. She put two and two together. Everything that Cal just said gave light to what she discovered last night.

That explains the child I saw! In her mind, she exclaimed.

She figured the Holocron was the second thing Vader needed—she remembers their negotiation back in Modala, the calm yet demanding tone of the dark lord thundered in her mind and rumbled her heart. She zoned out, staring back at the flawless green plains, letting the two facts sink into her.

“Are you searching for the children now?” inquired a curious Jidné, there was an ulterior motive between her words that Cal may or may not have hinted.

“No,” the boy simply shook his head. “Even if we did find them, the Empire will come after them. The same way they’re after us, I think.”

Her heart sank further in, Cal’s last sentence hit her close to home. The same goes for them back when they were younger—when they were still Padawan learners—it’s unimaginable to think that these children, who have no idea what they’re capable of in the first place, be suddenly robbed of their homes and families simply because they were Force-sensitive, all for the sake of the Empire’s exploits.

“So, the only way the crew and I thought would keep them safe is…” Cal trailed off. The fact that he destroyed a Holocron felt like a sin for once, even though he seemed confident about it when he had done the deed. “Is destroying the Holocron.”

The cogs in the bounty hunter’s mind turned so relentlessly that sparks sputtered in the tiny gaps in between. She masked her surprise with a straight face and pensive eyes, on the inside, she’s already drafting her progress report should Darth Vader come in contact with her.

Cal took notice of her silence, he examined the girl’s stoic expression: eyes lost to the endless meadow, lips slightly parted with the words dripping at the edge, and the gentle rising and falling of her breast as she breathed.

“You did the right thing,”

“For a second there, you looked like you just heard me confess a crime,”

“Well, I was never told that there was a law that destroying Holocrons was a criminal offense!”

The two traded glances and ended up in giggles, returning their gazes at the meadow and counting the Q’avals that grazed the tall grass. The day was whiled away with their banters of their childhood. They may have been worlds apart, but the stories that were so alike with another had linked them.

“You know, it’s funny,” Cal began.

“What is?”

“We’ve probably never even met along the halls in the Jedi Temple, yet somehow I find it easy to talk to you about these sorts of things. It’s like I’ve known you all my life,”

Jidné reciprocated the sentiment. Her thoughtful eyes smiled back at him, she plopped her back flat against the soft earth to hide her cheeks in their blushing glory. Cal started plucking the tiny flowers that dotted the plains and surrounded them, he adorned her dark hair splayed on the grass with white and pink buds while his free hand dared to caress her cheek—the back of his fingers stroking and tracing the suppleness of her face down to her jaw.

His touch was received with the upward curl at the corner of her lip, in return, Jidné plucked out a blade of grass and drew invisible lines over his scars—tickling his neck, cheek, and the bridge of his nose, counting his freckles with the pointed end of the stalk, her thumb softly brushing against his lip to find the tiny nick on his lower lip. Her slender fingers combed away the stray locks that draped over his forehead, revealing another slit that cut through his eyebrow.

She could only imagine what kind of stories these marks have to tell her.

Evening fell upon the two youngsters, Cal promptly stood up.

“Let me take you to your ship. Is it still in the badlands?”

“Sharp memory,” she blurted.

Cal offered Jidné a ride on a Q’aval before it got any darker. By default, she wrapped her arms around him again and he welcomed her embrace, Cal spurred the animal and in obeisance to its rider, the Q’aval reared and galloped through the plains, they passed by Diitana and crossed its bridge until they’ve arrived in the badlands.

Jidné did some backseat driving, directing Cal where to go until they found the trenches and he caught a glimpse of the Scarab’s hull. Both of them dismounted the animal, Cal got a closer look of her freighter—he recalls scrapping a similar model back in Bracca.

“You could have stayed the night at the Mantis, you know,” the Jedi initiated.

Jidné pursed her lips, “It looks like a full house in there.”

“Nah, you fit right in,”

“It’s fine, Cal,” she insisted politely.

“Well, if it’s not too much to ask—let’s do this again some time?”

Even in the night, the girl could always spot the twinkle in Cal’s clear jade eyes; he didn’t need any more words, his fond puppy-eyed gaze was enough to get her heart going—though, she wondered if he was aware that he made her feel that way.

“Don’t look at me like that,”

“Why not?” he cooed back.

“Because I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to say no,”

Cal chuckled nasally. He took out a flower that he had tucked underneath the straps of his armor and wore it on Jidné’s hair, wearing it into the braid that crowned the side of her head.

“Then I can wait for that yes,”

He leaned in and planted his lips against her cheek. He found her standing there, apparently taken aback by the gesture, when he looked over his shoulder.

“Good night, Jidné.”

“Good night, Cal.”

The animal reared once more and Jidné watched the boy ride into the distance, leaving plumes of dust in his wake. Her heartbeat synchronized with the hooves of the Q’aval as he departed. Absentmindedly, her fingers fondled the petals of the flower pinned into her hair while looking into the now-empty desert.

An epiphany threw its way into her—it felt like something invisible had tackled her into submission and punched her in the gut so violently that she arched inward for a bit.

“Shit…”

“Cheep?”

“This never happened before… No… It can’t...” she turned to ID-3 for some sort of affirmation. “Can it?”

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sockmonstergotstyle · 5 years

Text

So I finished Stalking Jack the Ripper

I WAS RIGHT

Well like 50% right but I’m still calling it a win

Ugh my brain just call me Thomas fucking Cresswell

Ngl I was real sad at the end lmao I was all like IT HAS TO BE THAT GUY OR I LOOK DUMB then when I was right I was like aww how sad he seemed nice

But to wind back a lil before that

Audrey storming about is so funny to me like I’m stuck between ‘hell Yeah bitch 💪’ and ‘jfc u must seem SO annoying to everyone watching’ aksjsk

I like how the police officer just became totally irrelevant lmao it’s what he deserves

Thomas with the fake limp = big Kaz Brekker energy sorry

Also when they were attacked?? Thomas went down so quick akdjsksja the guy was like *ponch* and Thomas was like *Mario Bros dying noises*

Where can I get like an ounce of Audrey’s confidence pls

Off topic but my phone tried to autocorrect ‘audrey’ to another word and that reminds me that my friend agrees with my theory about Thomas that I can’t actually say bc people will ~come for me~

Why are the evil brothers always blonde and called Nathaniel

tid prepared me for this

Anyway so yeah Romania huh sounds like smth

Dunno what

I’m not gonna be reading the next book straight away bc I have a reading list as long as Audrey’s figurative dick but I will get to it next year

Yeet

#stalking jack the ripper #audrey rose wadsworth #thomas cresswell

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forever-more-never-again · 6 years

Text

Liquor Truths

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 1370

Pairing: Natasha X Reader

Warnings: Drunk, descriptions/mentions of depression. ANGST!

Request: Hi!! Love your writing btw :D ok, my request is Natasha x fem!reader with ANGSTTTTT. Get creative girl! I don't care the ending lol just make sure you break my heart lmao (I'm a slut for angst) xoxo

Masterlist

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe there was a reason for it. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

“[Y/n]?”

Your name shook you out of your dark thoughts, looking over your shoulder, you saw Steve approaching, with a cup of Asgardian liquor in it.

“Hey Cap. Some party, huh?” You gestured out towards the crowded common area where revelars were laughing and getting drunk.

Steve squinted at you suspiciously, but your pasted smile was perfected too much for him to see past it. He shrugged, taking a sip of the only alcohol that could give him a buzz, “You know Tony likes it, and thinks it gives good press, but you know I don’t really care for these things.”

You laughed, punching him lightly in the shoulder, “You’d rather be out there butting heads with hydra ops, we know.”

Steve flushed slightly, coughed, and raised his cup to his eye, “Stronger than I remember. I better lay off or else I be like Bucky here in a few.”

You and Steve both glanced over to the balcony where Bucky was making out with his own reflection.

“That’s probably for the best.” You took his cup from his hand and set it on the bar before turning and pushing him away from you, “Now go out there and mingle, people came to be wowed by America’s heroes.”

If Steve noticed that you didn’t include yourself in that category, he didn’t say anything. He smiled, ruffled your hair and walked away.

While it was true you were part of the Avengers, you didn’t feel like you deserved the same praise and attention as the rest of the team. You weren’t anything special. The most you could do was change your appearance into a mouse. That’s right. A mouse, and nothing else.

You glanced at the half full cup of Asgardian Liquor sitting before you. Glancing around the room confirmed that no one was paying attention to you. You knew that Thor said that it was not for ‘mere mortals’, but you needed something to get you out of your own thoughts.

“Here goes nothing.” You muttered before swallowing it all in one go.

“Huck! U-ack!” It burned something horrible and felt like fire going down your throat.

“[Y/n]! You okay?” The sweet honey toned voice of your girlfriend floated in the air before you. Your eyes tracked the soft words, following them back to ruby red lips.

Giggling, you gripped her arms, letting her hold your weight as you stumbled, “You sound pretty..hehehe...I sound sad.” You raised one hand and weaved it through the air in front of you where your words mingled with everyone else's.

“Oh my god, [Y/n]... How much have you had to drink?”

You frowned at the gruff tone of your girlfriend, tears welling up in your eyes, “Are you mad at me Natasha? Please, Don’t be mad at me…”

You turned your puppy dog eyes up to meet her emerald green ones, they swirled like oceans, drawing you in.

She blinked, drawing in a breath, before tugging you close to her and started walking towards your room in the tower, bypassing nosy guests. “Of course I’m not mad at you [Y/n].”

You cheered and nodded, “Good! Cause I hate myself enough already!”

“What? [Y/n]? What are you talking about?” You noticed that you were now in your room, wow, your girlfriend walked fast.

You ran from her arms and jumped onto the bed, leaping and trying to touch the ceiling, “Hehe. This is fun! Come on Tasha! We never have fun anymore!”

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose, “I know we’ve been going through a rough patch lately [Y/n]. What with all the missions Fury has me going on, but I am not discussing this with you when you are obviously drunk. Now, sleep it off!”

She stormed out and slammed the door behind her, causing you to fall into a heap on the bed, staring after her.

The energy she left behind was a faded blue, raising your hand, you saw that your energy radiated a red.

“You were blue, and I was red, and together we created a violet sky. But Purple isn’t enough for you.” You murmured the words, vaguely recognizing them from some sappy quote thingy you saw on a wall once.

Fire rose in your eyes as yous talked across the room to the balcony of your room. Throwing open the french doors, you felt the wind tangle its fingers in your hair, its breath caress your cheek and tickle your ears as it spoke in silent whispers.

“Of course Fury wants her on all the missions, she’s more talented. More better….Murrr Avensher than meee.” You laughed as your words came out garbled and sloppy.

“Cush I only do tsiss…” Your body tingled for a minute as you suddenly shrank down into our mouse form. Squeaking, and stumbling, you gripped the side of the building with your paws and began climbing the side of the building up to the tippy top.

Once on the top you changed back into your human form, on your hands and knees, gaspiong for breath between hysterical laughter.

“Ishhhh better this way….maygeee.”

You crawled to the edge of the tower, and glanced down. The building seemed to be swaying from side to side. The moon called out to you in a haunting howl as the ground beckoned you with dark shadows and sweet surrender.

“Who would luve me? I’m brosken. Tattered. Not an avensher worth Natasha.”

Tears found their way down your cheeks in shallow rivers.

“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry!” You screamed out into the busy New York night.

“It’s better this way!”

“I’m not worth it!”

You were feeling everything tenfold. In the back of your mind, you figured it was the Asgardian Liquor doing this, amplifying the feelings and thoughts you already had.

“[Y/n]? FRIDAY says you climbed up here. Are you okay?”

You slowly stood and turned to face Natasha, Steve, and Tony. They all looked worried. Standing in front of the door to the fire escape.

You doubled over in laughter, the tears splattering the grey roof. You took a step back, which was also up, onto the edge.

Natasha jerked. Steve’s eyes widened and Tony grimaced, hands on his watch.

“No suits Tone tone!” You sang, as the realization hit him. He had Dum-EE doing repairs on the one suit he kept after getting back together with Pepper.

“[Y/n]...you’re drunk. Let’s go to our room. Come here..”

You screamed as Natasha took a step forward, causing her to freeze.

Not once did the tears stop, they were a constant lullaby of despair.

“I’ve felt this way for a long time! No one noticed! I’m not worth saving!”

You heard your words, no longer garbled, now sharp as a knife, piercing the hearts of the three people before you.

Tony spoke gruffly, you could see the shimmer of water in his eyes, “[Y/n], I’ve been where you are, it doesn't have to end like this.”

You stared him down, “You have never been here. Because you are Iron Man. And you,” You turned to Steve, “ Are Captain America and you,” You looked at Natasha, your gaze dropping as your heart sang out to her, “You are Black Widow, the woman who owns my heart. Maybe it will still be beating when you scrape me from the ground.”

You edged closer to the ledge, the heels of your feet teetering close to the open space. The thousands of feet to the shadow covered ground.

“[Y/n], what are you talking about!? Get off the ledge, please!” You could smell and see the desperation and the love in her voice, but it wasn't enough. It was too late. It was better this way.

“I was never an Avenger. Let’s be honest. I’m not apart of this team, or this family. Goodbye.”

And with those last words, you let your body fall backwards.

“Noooo!”

The sight of the red hair of Natasha spilled across your vision as the wind rushed to cushion you. You smiled as you closed your eyes.

You were finally free.

FOREVER Taglist

@sxph-t @littlestfangirl @rainydaysrnevergrey (No Smut!) @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @mcuimxgine @mythixmagic @chas-z @iflew-onabus @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger

Natasha Taglist:

@ludwigvonbaethoven @hanjiscience-slut @kitten-q-p @morbid-gaymer @honeybadgerwhodoesntcare @sunnyandtwisty @zoeyknight @kurlyafro @thewomanofwonder @5aftermidnight

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc

#avengers #avengers tower #avengers x reader #avengers x you #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x reader #angst #black widow #steve rogers #tony stark #avengers imagine #imagine #imagine request #reader insert #please give feedback #please give credit #rose writes

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parttwoactuallywrites · 6 years

Note

If you're still taking requests for bad things happen bingo, how about Virgil x Mel + natural disaster? - theportalwedeserve

@theportalwedeserve

ahslkdjfhlHLKJASHDLFKJH I was considering reposting that bingo card so people might consider requesting, but this came at a really good time!! Thanks a million for asking!!!!

Some quick notes before I start - This is my first shot at writing both Virgil AND Mel, and honestly? I have no idea how I did, so feedback from those who actually have written these guys/know more about them then I do/ etc. is always appreciated! Sorry if it’s not quite up to snuff! Secondary sorry that this took so long, I wrote this during my study-breaks for my midterms (which start this Thursday and I’m ahsdkfjhsjf). This was also originally gonna be WAY shorter but I’m a mess lmao.

This fic is best enjoyed listening to Gymnopedie No. 1 and Cherche La Rose on loop. Sorry this wasn’t angstier, I wanted to write some comfy stuff ‘cause it’s cold out.

The two of them were always regarded as an oddball couple, woodsy folk who lived a mile or so out of town in a little log-cabin they’d built themselves with the extra hands of whoever wanted to help - which was, evidently, the entirety of the little community of Laurel River.

It made sense, at least to Virgil. Though he couldn’t help but think of himself as the most “other” person there - Hah, I’m calling myself a person, now. - he seemed to fit right in. Hard workers with practical genius and warmth he’d never seen down in the salt mines. He supposed you had to be a certain kind of person to work at Aperture, and those types didn’t have a predisposition to warmth, now did they?

Speaking of, the warmth was only really metaphorical. The weather hadn’t gotten above freezing in weeks, the days got shorter and shorter, and with no real work that could get done with the ground and the river frozen, the town and its inhabitants got rather sleepy.

A cold, cold wind blew over a mostly-empty town square as Virgil stepped into the little general store for the groceries.

“Hey, Lil,” Virgil said, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

“Hello to you too, Virgil! How’s the weather out there?” Lily asked, without turning around. She was an older woman, soft spoken and gentle. She made lovely bouquets in the summer and spring, with a garden to kill or die for.

“Bad,” He said, pulling his neatly folded list out of his pocket, “Cold, windy, cloudy.”

“Oh dear,” She said, still re-organizing the things behind the counter, “Well that sounds about right. There’s supposed to be a storm coming, a big blizzard. First of the season.”

Blizzard.

Virgil knew what those were, knew that they were big screw-off storms with strong wind and snow that made it so you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. He knew that blizzards took down trees and power lines and covered up solar panels in a foot-and-a-half of snow. Sounded like a recipe for losing power, or worse, their house getting destroyed.

He frowned, one by one grabbing the things off the shelves and putting them into a canvas bag he’d gotten when he first came into town. Flour, sugar, milk, eggs, brussels sprouts, carrots, leek, butternut squash, ‘any herbs you can get your hands on’…

He put the worry out of his mind. The clearing the cabin sat in was far enough away that a few trees coming down wouldn’t be a terrible issue. The house kept the heat well and he’d be willing to trudge a ways into the woods for more firewood if they lost power and ran out. They could camp out in the living room and snuggle to stay warm, or maybe…

Well, that assumed either of them would be willing to get their clothes off. Unlikely, given the predicted circumstances, but a nice thought nonetheless.

Virgil set his things down on the front counter one by one, lost in his unlikely-but-still-nice-thoughts about the days to come, just the two of them, snowed in together.

“Name the kid after me,” Lily said with a pleasant smile.

“Wha- Good lord, Lil!”

She laughed, took the money from the counter and handed him back a few bucks in change. “Seriously, you kids be safe, and don’t you hesitate to come to town if something happens.”

“We’ll be sure of it. Thanks, Lily.” He slowly loaded all his things into his bag.

“Any time, Virgil. Have a nice evening, honey.”

He pushed the door open, waving as he walked out. “You too!”

And then once more he was out in the cold. A gust of wind blew in his face, stinging his eyes and making them water. That might be the only thing he missed about being a core, his fantastic inability to feel most external stimuli, and with that, his inability to feel the cold stiffening his fingers, making him regret not wearing his gloves.

It was gonna be a long trudge home.

Virgil came home a few minutes out from frostbite as the sun was starting to set. He huffed as he gently set down the bag on the floor by the front door, kicked off his shoes carelessly, and wondered how long it’d take before his ears stopped burning and feeling returned to his face.

The smell of bread wafted through their small home, coupled by hot cocoa floating in beside it.

“Making something, Mel?”

She hummed. “You were taking a mighty long time out there,” She said, moving through the kitchen slowly, leisurely. “Thought it might be nice to come home to something hot to drink.”

“You’re my savior, you know that, right?”

Mel giggled. “You’ve said so on more than one occasion.” She set two cups down on their modest kitchen table, filling them with the cocoa. “What’s the news from in town?”

“We’ve got a blizzard coming in,” He said, walking towards her “That’ll be your first snow in over a hundred years!”

“It’ll be your first snow ever.” She handed him a cup of cocoa and leaned back against the kitchen counter to drink the other herself.

He took it in both hands, taking a long sip, letting the sweet drink warm him. “Mmm… This is good.”

“Thank you.”

“But personality cores are based on, well… Personalities. They were all people, once, including me,” Virgil said, “Don’t remember any of it, but I bet you I saw snow back then.”

“I still don’t get how you’re supposed to pour a person into a box, and then have that box… Do things,” She said, flatly.

“Mel, we own a computer.”

“Yeah, and I like it, but that doesn’t mean I understand it. Last I checked, TV’s were the size of our oven and only played blurry and in black and white. It’s just after the apocalypse, and we got color and crystal-clear pictures.”

Virgil shrugged. “Fair point.”

The storm came early that morning, before first light of dawn and well before either of them woke. Virgil vaguely remembered sleepily arguing for Mel to stay in bed, to sleep another hour or two with him, before being given a pillow to hug instead as she went about her morning without him. She only actually woke him up some time later, gently shaking him awake to a dark bedroom.

“Power’s out, Virgil,” Mel said, “Virgil, wake the hell up.”

“Huh?”

“The power’s-” Mel was cut off by a clap of thunder that rattled through the small house, startling Virgil fully awake.

“What the fuck-” Virgil shot up in bed, grabbing Mel’s hands almost instinctively for support.

“Looks like it’s a thundersnow,” Mel said thoughtfully.

“A what?”

Another clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning. Virgil yelped in surprise, this time, earning him a comforting hand on his shoulder from Mel. “You alright?”

“Fine!” He squeaked, “Just fine.”

“Well, the power’s out,” She said, “So if we’re gonna make breakfast, it’ll have to be over the fireplace.”

“Do you need a hand with that?” He kicked his legs over the edge of bed, planting his feet on the ground and stretching up.

“I can get the fire set up and all that-” Mel cringed as his back cracked.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem, not a problem,” She said, dismissively. “Could you make that stew of yours, though?”

Oh. The stew. He’d made it over the fireplace, once or twice before, with decent success. Not that it was particularly difficult to make, more or less a “sear some stuff and then leave it alone for three hours” type of situation.

He wanted to say no, anyways. Last time he did it, he burned his wrist on the pot and he still had a little scar from it. It was dangerous and difficult to cook over the fireplace, but Mel looked so hopeful and she loved that stew…

“Yeah, alright,” He said, “I can do that.”

Mel sweeped him up into a hug, pressing kisses to his face indiscriminately. “You’re the best,” She said, after landing one right on his eyelid, “Easily the best.”

“That’s high praise coming from my savior.”

When he actually got a chance to look outside, it was a little astonishing. He could hear the wind whistling almost constantly, or the odd clap of thunder in the distance, but he had no idea just how nasty it was, out there.

The world was covered in a haze of white, he couldn’t see the trees of the backwoods or the river that ran through the area they designated as their backyard. It was almost spooky, like the house itself had been isolated from the rest of the world.

He turned his attention back to the cutting board, back to cutting the vegetables they had on hand. Mel was curled up on the couch in their modest living room, warm and cozy by the fire she’d just started, reading something by the soft light of the window.

Yeah, burning his arm again would be worth it, if it came to that. Definitely. Mel worked too hard, too long, too sustained almost constantly. She had no ‘off’ switch, though, he supposed, that is what got them out of Aperture and into town in the first place.

Virgil dropped the vegetables into the almost cauldron-like cooking pot, letting them sizzle satisfyingly. The browned meat sat in a little bowl next to the pot, along with all the stock anyone could ever need. He absentmindedly stirred things around, more aware of Mel’s contented humming than he was his own hands.

Luckily, he didn’t burn himself, this time.

As if on auto-pilot, he put everything left in the pot, one by one, with the exception of the random assortment of root vegetables he’d throw in towards the end. He poured in the stock, covered the pot, and turned to Mel, who opened her blanket and patted the spot next to her.

“Kept your seat warm for you.” She said, grinning.

“Think I could stand to take a nap?”

“I’ll wake you up in two hours,” She said, “Stew smells great, by the way.”

“Thanks, love,” Virgil said, grabbing an extra blanket and curling himself up next to her, falling asleep in her lap.

Virgil woke up to the smell of stew and the sound of bowls being shifted around in the kitchen.

“Mel?” He called to nowhere in particular. Did I wake up in time to add the parsnip?

“You didn’t wake up, I handled the rest of it,” She said, almost reading his mind, “Stew’s done, if you’re hungry.” She handed him a bowl, as he sat up, complete with a piece of toast with butter. She dug in without waiting, putting a spoonful in her mouth and sighing with pleasure. “Christ, this is good…”

He looked down into his bowl, contemplative.

The world was scary, wasn’t it? Terrifying. There was a blizzard out there that could’ve probably killed him, back when he was a core, that would’ve definitely killed him if he was out there, now.

But he wasn’t.

He was warm and safe, in his own home, just him and Mel. Larger than that, they came off the heels of a war, and they were better for it. Would Laurel River have helped them build their home, been so kind as to open their doors for them before the war?

He didn’t think so. From what Mel said about the world, back then, they’d have had white picket fences up and would’ve judged ‘em both for how they dressed and acted, when things were ‘improper’ - whatever that meant.

He couldn’t help but thank the maker that he was alive, really alive, then. In his home, with the love of his life, safe and warm and eating stew.

He ripped off a small piece of bread and dunked it into the stew, taking his first bite before it went cold.

She was right, it was pretty good.

#portal #portal stories: mel #mel/virgil #i don't know their ship name #so anyone who does #lemme know please!!#bad things happen bingo #parttwoactuallywrites #virmel

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