#the chances were good it was just CLOUD COVERAGE!!!!

[seoafin]

im still jetlagged but im so upset i didn't see the northern lights

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

chapter 8

ao3 link

Chapter 9

Content Warning: gore, horror, zombies, blood

Tacked up and astride your new horse, you head out with Sevika. Grayson watches as the two of you leave after having double-checked that the two of you have all the necessary supplies (and then some). You can’t help but feel a bit giddy at all the little ways these people care for you. They barely know you, yet everyone watches out for you as if you were always their own, never a stranger. You missed feeling like part of a community.

The wastes swallow you whole – trees curling inward to bundle you into the green haze of the surrounding mountains. Sevika leads you down a well-worn trail, explaining the flare system and other basics of patrol routes: green for the all-clear, purple for shimmer growth, yellow for an obstructed trail, and red for requesting backup. You scribble them down in your journal, whispering a prayer under your breath that you won’t need to use any today. There’s a flare gun in your horse’s saddle bag, along with a first aid kid, extra bullets and spare rations. Enough emergency supplies to help you last a few days in the wilderness, if need be.

Apart from Sevika’s unnervingly serious explanation of the flare system, the trail is peaceful. Vi’s warning feels a little over the top now, which puts you entirely on edge. Vi knows these trails far better than you do, and if she says there’s a chance of danger, no amount of tranquillity will put your mind at ease until you’re safely back at Zaun. Sevika seems to share your sentiments, watching the treeline with an intense glare and a tight grip on Duchess reigns. You pat your horse, murmuring reassurances to her – she is being a very good girl by trusting you to lead her down this trail, even though she can definitely sense your nerves.

 The wind howls as it whips around you, cutting through your coat despite it being mid-summer. Tree coverage is blocking the sun, making the forested trail cool and damp. The underbrush is lit in an eery glow that furthers your anxiety, as every little shape makes you jump.

When the treeline finally breaks into open fields again, Sevika slows Duchess to a stop and signals for you to do the same. You oblige her, stopping by her side and staring out across the field. There are small patches of trees scattered throughout the valley, though you are much further up the mountain than you realized. Clouded by your worry, you hadn’t realized that the trail was slowly winding up! Zaun has shrunk ever so slightly beneath you – not by a whole lot, just enough to disguise its inhabitants from the naked eye. The roofs shield the streets from view, aided by blankets stretched between buildings. A smart move – if a band of unsavoury individuals came through the valley, they wouldn’t immediately see a group of potential victims. Only the perimeter guards, who are armed to the teeth (or, as best as they can be during the apocalypse).

Additionally, the farmland stretches farther than you had thought, reaching toward the edge of the valley where the mountains converged to swallow the path into a narrow road. Cows, crops and sheep appear as if they are part of a miniature model of the valley rather than reality… that could just be a side effect of living through the uncivilized apocalypse for so long, though. Your eyes follow a pair out on patrol as you stare into the valley, watching them examine the cattle for any discrepancies.  

“Look up – see that building further up the trail?” Sevika asks, drawing your attention back to her.  

You glance up, and sure enough, there sits an old weather station! It’s a little further down the mountain, near the foot that blends into the valley. You’re guessing Silco wants the windmill in the valley itself, but the weather station poses a problem. For all you know, it could be hiding a shimmer growth… you shudder at the thought. The last thing you need to encounter is those purple tendrils and whatever they’re hiding. You’ve never dared investigate the depths they lead into, far too afraid of what you might find. Considering that infected swarm around growths like they are nests, conquering your fear was never worth the risk.

The weather station itself is old – the arms are falling apart, and part of the disc has collapsed onto the ground. You’re unsure if it was abandoned before or after Shimmer. Given the state of it, it might have been long abandoned and left out here to rot.

“That’s where we’re heading?” you ask tentatively, trying to bite down your trepidation.

“Yup. Be ready; I’m not sure what we’re going to find in there. These mountains hold secrets, especially the old buildings. Though, it’s usually just a lot of stumblers and goners – the mountains may be full of small towns, but they’re so spread out that shimmer usually starves before it can progress to something nasty.” Sevika checks that her shotgun is loaded, and you do the same, not wanting to be caught unawares with an unloaded gun.

“So… no risk of shimmer growth. Right?” you tentatively ask, fingers itching at the thought of the mini-blow torch and fuel cell in your saddle bag.

Sevika fixes you with a hard stare that runs over you like an ice bath, sobering you from your daydream. “No. There is always a chance of shimmer growth. You never know where people fled to out here. In cities, it’s more obvious: look for hospitals, schools, shopping malls, that sort of thing. Out here, every building you stumble upon could be a nest.”

You hastily attach the blowtorch to your holster, fear straightening your spine. “Fuck, don’t scare me like that, Sev’,” you try to chuckle, only to sound as meek as you feel.

“Should be scared,” she grunts, nudging Duchess to start trotting again.

“You can be a real asshole sometimes. You know that? I feel like you’re doing this just because of what I said earlier,” you grumble, nudging your horse after her.

“First rule of the apocalypse: self-sufficiency. I may be good with a gun, but I ain’t good enough that I can watch both of our asses.”

“Hey! I can watch my own ass – I’ve been doing it for nine years, after all!”

“Good. Silco would kill me if I got you killed on your first patrol,” Sevika says, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. She offers it to you, barely turning her head in order to keep her eyes on the trail. “You want some?”

“No, thanks, I don’t smoke. Dad was a smoker; I’m not risking nicotine addiction, even if it is the apocalypse,” you decline, content to watch the smoke pool from her lips instead.

“Suit yourself,” Sevika grunts, shrugging lightly before taking another drag.

Silence falls over you like a warm blanket as Sevika slows Duchess to ride alongside you. Saving you from having a cloud of second-hand smoke blowing in your face for the second leg of your journey. It’s a small gesture, and one that doesn’t go unnoticed.

The journey continues to be peaceful as you follow the trail. There are a few tricky spots where you have to trust your horse, as the trails are steep and narrow, but Duchess manages them fine, taking the lead and showing your horse how it’s done. In fact, your horse seems to know more about the trails than you do! She crosses small creaks and avoids certain rotten logs before you can think to guide her, prancing about the place as if she owns it.

“You’re just the King of the trails, huh?” you giggle, patting her neck. She nickers in agreement, delighted at herself.

“There’s a good name for her,” Sevika grunts, letting you know she’s been listening to you praise your horse for the last half hour.

“What? King? Isn’t that a little weird, considering that she’s a girl?” Not that Sevika doesn’t have a point. King would make for an excellent name, but you could always call her Queen… it would mean the same thing.

“So? You think anyone really cares about that shit anymore? Tying a title to gender is kind of fuckin’ sexist. That’s old-world shit. If you like the name King, just punch whoever doesn’t,” Sevika argues, putting out her cigarette on her boot and flicking it into the brush.

“Well, why not let her decide? I mean, it will be her name. What do you say, girl, do you like the name King?” You pause, listening as she makes an almost positive sound. “Okay, would you prefer Queen?” Almost immediately, she huffs at you. “Huh… King… You better live up to your name, lady,” you chuckle, scratching King behind the ears. She makes a noise that sounds as if she’s protesting your doubt. “Alright, alright, you’ve made your point!”

“The King and the Duchess… Got a nice ring to it,” Sevika hums, giving Duchess a treat.

“Why is she called Duchess and not Duch if that’s how you feel, though?” you probe, giving Sevika a cheeky grin as if you’ve found her out.

Sevika snorts a little and shakes her head. Duchess makes a noise akin to a scoff, as if she’s trying to call your question foolish. “I didn’t name her. She was one of the first few horses we got – found her at an old ranch after we had to… dispose of the owners: Belchers. Must’ve been feeding on their horses or any poor soul who stumbled into the ranch in hopes of safety. Duchess’ name was right there on the stall next to her, and she wouldn’t take another. Stubborn old girl, she is.”

“Oh. Huh. Sorry, I just –“

“Don’t worry about it. We’re almost there, anyway. Time to keep quiet in case we run into trouble: don’t want them to know we’re coming.”

You nod your head and shut your mouth, fingers curling around the handle of your pistol. The last thing you want is to be caught unawares by an infected (or worse).  

The rest of the trail is eery – as you grow closer to the weather station, it feels like the world around you stands still, holding its breath. You swallow thickly, then take a swig of your water to quell your nerves. It doesn’t help – not really, but it keeps you occupied for a few moments as Sevika guides her horse over to the side of the trail. You copy her, pulling your weapons and any necessary supplies out from King’s saddlebags. Once you’re geared up, Sevika motions for you to follow quietly with a finger to her lips. Giving King one last reassuring pat, you pad through the bush after Sevika.

The closer you draw to the weather station, the more you begin to understand why your instincts are on edge. Purple veins sprawl across the Earth like roots, having burst through the door of the weather station like it is an infected’s mouth. You shudder at the sight, staring into the deep, dark hole that leads further into the ground where the actual station once was.

“It wasn’t like this before. This shit has progressed too far,” Sevika whispers as quietly as possible. You watch as she fiddles with her flare gun and pops a flare into it. “Get out your rifle and be ready.”

“Aye,” you whisper, watching your six as Sevika raises the flare gun and fires.

Purple smoke illuminates the sky as Sevika pockets the gun and turns back to you. You had expected it to make a noise that would startle any infected in the area, but the sound it produced could barely be considered the wind. Sevika repositions her shotgun and turns toward the weather station.

“Come on, let’s go –“

“Wait, are we seriously going inside?!” you hiss in alarm, still trying to keep your voice down.

“Have to; it needs to be cleared out. Fire patrol will come give us a hand soon. Until then, it’s our job to sort out whatever’s down there,” Sevika shrugs, checking her shotgun is loaded for the fiftieth time.

“Have you… ever been down one of those?” you ask nervously as the two of you grow closer to the door.

“Once or twice. They’re harmless – a few infected, sure, but as I said, we’re up in the mountains. Not enough food out here for ‘em to grow properly. Surprised we even have a growth at all. This place must’ve been a shelter for the town we took over… probably just a few goners, maybe a belcher if we’re really unlucky. Never found a burster this far out.”

You shudder at the mention of Bursters – nasty things. The fourth stage of shimmer infection, when consciousness returns to the body just enough to let you know what’s happening as your dissolved insides are repurposed. You had only ever heard rumours of them since you steered clear of cities, as there was never enough easy food sources outside of cities for an infected to grow to the burster stage. They kind of just stagnated at belcher or goner without enough food. Though the rumours you heard were nasty – bursters are almost on some kind of timer or biological clock, and once that clock struck out, something slender and inhumane bursts free from the husk of the host. You’re not quite sure what, as no one has ever seen one and lived long enough to tell the tale (frankly, you’re not sure you believe it exists). More likely, bursters just explode on those around them and corrode them with the leftover stomach acid from their belcher phase.

You’re not sure you want to find out the truth.

Sevika steps over the purple veins, carefully making her way into the weather station. Her flashlight clicks on, illuminating the network of veins and organic growth covering the inside of the weather station. There is plenty of space to walk… that doesn’t stop your skin from crawling. The anticipation of infected keeps you on edge as you follow her down, white-knuckling your rifle. Sevika may be a damn good shot against infected (in your experience), but that doesn’t mean she’s invincible.

The stairs bottom out to a hallway with six doors – three on either side. At the end of the hallway, there’s another set of stairs heading further underground. Four of the doors are open; one looks to be stuck shut by a shimmer vein growing across it, and the other two are simply shut. It’s pitch black down here, apart from the light of your flashlights, and it makes your skin crawl. You can barely hear the wind howling outside over the sound of your own heartbeat. You shouldn’t be down here.

“We need to get to the heart of this shit to burn it. Don’t try any of it now; it’ll only alert them,” Sevika whispers, lifting her flashlight to check the interior of the first room.

“How can you say that so casually?” you hiss, staring down the hall at the darkened stairwell. “We are standing inside an infected nest, and you’re acting like it’s just another Tuesday!”

“Because it is another Tuesday!” Sevika shoots back, glaring at you. Her flashlight shines at you in the corner of your eye, forcing you to hold her gaze. Her glare makes you want to shrink into the floor and disappear. “This is my life. This is what I do. I go out, I shoot infected, and I keep people safe! If you don’t like it, you can ride your pretty little ass back to Silco and switch to volunteering in medical or some shit. But you’ll be riding alone, princess, because I still have to do my damn job! So, either shut up and help, or fuck off, because this right here – this is not helping! You are stressing me the fuck out, and you’re going to get us both killed.”

“Sorry – I’m just freaking out! I’ve never been in an infected nest before, and every single instinct is telling me to get the fuck out before it’s too late,” you whimper, nervously glancing down the hallway.

“Like I said, you’re free to go.”

“No! I – I’m not leaving you here! For fucks sake, Sev’, you walk into Hell, I’ll follow you. Just cut me a little slack here, alright? This is not an average Tuesday for me – I do not make a habit of actively seeking out infected.”

A crash down the hall from one of the rooms cuts your conversation short and both of you freeze. “What was that?” dies on your tongue as Sevika starts creeping toward the sound. You adjust your rifle to the firing position, sweeping the rest of the rooms to ensure they’re clear. You find an empty kitchen that’s been raided for food, with a half-eaten can on the table, a janitor’s closet, complete with a mop and bucket that shimmer veins have curled into and made a home of, like a hermit crab, and a bunk room with unmade beds as if the people had –

You shriek as a goner lunges at you, its starving hands make a grab for your face, ready to tear flesh from bone. Stumbling back into the hallway, your back hits against something, but you’re too preoccupied to check. Instead, you shoot a bullet into the goner’s sternum, then another between its eyes, and watch as it crumples to the floor. Finally free, you whip your head around to see Sevika standing with her back against yours, a stumbler at her feet. You laugh slightly, wiping your hand over your face.

“Well, looks like we’re not alone here. I counted twelve beds, at least,” you say, trying to lighten the mood.

“You get bit?” Sevika asks, dusting herself off and cocking her shotgun.

You pat yourself over quickly: “No.”

“Good. Let’s keep moving.”

The stairs seem less daunting with a win under your belt, and the two of you on the same page. The stairwell curls deeper into the Earth, like the root of a concrete tooth, until you reach a bunker door. Definitely a safe house. The veins have propped the door open, letting you into the dark, damp and dusty bunker that once held hope for a few lost souls at the end of the world. The bunker’s painted a medical green – almost nauseating when illuminated by your flashlights. Especially when it’s covered in blood and shimmer veins. The tunnel stretches further underground into absolute darkness, making you sigh at the prospect of having to clear the whole damn place out.

Work is work, but Grayson could have given you an easier patrol for your first time!

Almost immediately, you happen upon two stumblers, grunting as they scratch and claw at their own skin. Instinctually trying to dig out the infection. It feels more like a mercy kill to cut through their chests with your machete. Their bodies sink lifelessly to the floor, allowing you and Sevika to enter the bunker properly.

Despite its size and the shimmer presence, the bunker is relatively deserted. Instead of reassuring you, it puts you increasingly on edge. There are supplies taunting you in every room – the infection is too deeply set into this place to risk bringing shimmer back to Zaun. Instead, little signs of life tell you about the people these infected once were. Children’s toys in the nursery are set up in a miniature reenactment of the apocalypse. There is still food left in the dining room, mould eating away at old rations and half-cooked canned goods. Blood splatters on the walls from people who had tried to escape before it was too late – people forced to shoot their neighbours in the vain name of survival. Photographs in every room, next to every bed, of families – of lives stolen by the apocalypse. Little hints of the people you bring peace to as you clear out the bunker. Thankfully, they were either stumblers or goners – no belchers, no sign of starvation amongst infected, no sign of cannibalism.

This was recent. These people died recently. Most likely after Zaun found the weather station – you keep that bit to yourself. Sevika doesn’t need you pointing out that Zaun might have been able to save these people had the weather station been investigated sooner.

Together, you and Sevika follow the shimmer growth back to the source: the air ducts. The door is held open by the thickest shimmer vein you have ever seen as it pulsates on the floor, unaware of your presence. Pulling out your blowtorch, you follow Sevika inside and have to clamp your hand over your own mouth to keep from screaming. The two of you stand utterly still as a creature stands in the centre of the room, holding a ratty teddy bear. Its malnourished body shines in the darkness, white, translucent skin pulled taunt over purple veins. Its face is human but not… quiet. The mouth is a little too wide, the nose is almost flat against the face, and its eyes look like they are sealed shut – as if the skin has grown over them completely. The arms bend in an unnatural manner, as if it has too many joints and it’s struggling to hold itself in the way a human would.

Suddenly, all those rumours about bursters click into place, and your skin crawls.

Behind the creature is the shimmer growth pouring out of the air ducts – an undulating mass of unknown that makes your stomach swim. The mass pumps like a heart, causing the extending veins to pulsate in time with its twitching. You can see pieces of clothing scattered across the floor around it with no discernable pattern – pairs of shoes are on opposite sides of the room, many of the clothes are torn, and all of them are stained with blood – as if the growth had consumed them.

There are a lot of clothes.

The softest, most heartbroken “Oh no” escapes Sevika next to you. Luckily, the creature – whatever it is – doesn’t hear her. You definitely do, slowly turning your head to see what she’s looking at. Your stomach bottoms out; in the corner, wrapped in a wet blanket and wearing a miner’s cap, is a small child. She watches the creature, unafraid, as it approaches her, its spindly legs resembling that of a dancer’s as it crouches down and gives the doll to the little girl. The girl takes it tentatively, cradling the old teddy bear in her arms. She signs “thank you” to the creature, cuddling her face against the teddy bear.

Then the creature dips forward, its mouth opening far too wide, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth as it hunches over the little girl, getting lower and lower.

“Momma?” the girl whimpers, shrinking back and away from the creature. When she doesn’t get a response, she tries again, her voice barely distinguishable from a whimpering cry: “Momma?”

You shoot without thinking – because what else are you going to do, stand there and watch a kid get eaten?! Sevika has the same thought, the two of you sinking bullets into the creature. Its head whips around, mouth still hanging open, and screeches at you. It’s ear-piercing, making you stumble as you pull your shoulders up to try and block it out. Sevika shoots the thing again, and the child bolts toward the two of you, teddy bear still clutched in her arms. You grab her, not wanting her to run off and get lost in the bunker. She clings to you, shaking violently, arms tight around your neck.

“Get the kid out of here!” Sevika barks at you, aiming at the creature again.

“Don’t be stupid, just run! Come on!” you argue back, firing at the creature and watching it barely flinch as the bullet pierces its shoulder.

Something screams down the bunker hall, and you whip around to see another one of the creatures barreling towards you. The kid screams in your arms, burrowing her face in your shoulder. You fire at it, trying to slow it down but barely doing any damage. Sevika shoves you toward the exit, backing up with you.

“Just go! I’ll be right behind you!” Sevika shouts, pulling a firebomb out of her bag (Jinx’s creation, for when you need to light a shimmer growth on the run).

Without thinking, you press a sloppy kiss to her cheek as if it is your last chance: “You better be on my heels, or I’m coming back down here for you!”

You don’t hear her response as you bolt down the hallway right after, heading back to the stairs as fast as possible. Clasping your hand over the child’s head, you press her against your body, holding her tightly. The last thing you want is her spilling out of your arms right now. Infected charge into the hallway from nooks and crannies you didn’t even know existed, forcing you to waste bullets as you race toward fresh air. Another one of those creatures tries to head you off at the nursery, but you manage to sink your machete into its ankle as you under its flailing arms, severing its Achilles tendon (if it even has one). It buys you enough time to reach the stairs as the scent of burning flesh reaches you. Sevika must have lit the shimmer growth. You don’t dare risk looking over your shoulder as you barrel up the stairs. She’s right behind you. She has to be.

The moment you’re free of the stairs, you charge out into daylight, racing toward the horses in an effort to put as much distance between you and the bunker as possible. You don’t even register you’re not alone until someone grabs your shoulder, and you whip your head up to see Jinx. A sob escapes you at the sight – you have never been happier to see a friendly face.

“What’s got you running like your pants are on fire?” she giggles, brow furrowing at the kid in your arms.

“HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!” Ekko screams, barely having dismounted his horse as the creature that had been chasing you breaks out of the weather station into the daylight. Its translucent skin shimmers in the daylight, revealing its purple organs underneath. It opens its mouth to scream again and you wrap your hands around the girl’s ears to protect her.

A bang sounds behind it, and it falls to the ground, with enough bullet holes in its body to classify it as Swiss cheese. Sevika stands behind it, panting hard, clothes torn, covered in blood and soot. She has a mad look in her eye as she whips around to chuck another fire starter into the weather station. Something screams from inside as it catches fire. Sevika douses some alcohol across the front door and lights it before storming across the clearing toward you.

“Jinx, test your fucking explosives on that shit storm. Turn it into a damn crater,” Sevika growls at her young friend, shucking off her bloodied plaid shirt and chucking it onto the ground.

“We can deal with that in a moment, is the kid okay?” Jinx redirects the conversation, peering at the child in your arms. “Where did you two even find a kid?”

“Bunker. Was underneath the weather station. You can ask her why she ain’t infected, too… think she was being protected by one of those things,” Sevika grunts, slumping to sit against a nearby tree, head in her hands. “Now, blow that thing up. You don’t want what was down there getting loose.”

“Here, give her to me,” Ekko says, coming up next to you with his arms open to take the girl. “You’re in shock, you need to take a moment to process what just happened. I’ll get the kid a safe distance away from whatever Jinx is about to do.”

“Right… thanks,” you mumble, passing the kid to Ekko. You tip the girl’s hat up to make sure she’s still alive. Two large puppy dog eyes blink back at you, full of tears. “Hey, kid, don’t worry; you’re safe. I promise we’ll protect you.”

She buries her face in Ekko’s shoulder, gripping his shirt. You watch as the two of them walk off, Ekko tilting his head to her to ask: “Are you bit anywhere? It’s okay if you are, we just need to know so we can help you.”

She shakes her head violently, signing to him that she’s “safe.”

Satisfied, you slump down next to Sevika and finally let yourself exhale. Just as Jinx sets off a shit ton of explosives behind you. It thunders through the valley as she giggles manically, the weather station collapsing under its own weight. Once she’s satisfied, chucks a few more explosives in the pit and skips over to Ekko, helping check the girl over and get her something to eat.

“What the fuck just happened?” you ask, finally finding your voice. You card your trembling hand through your hair, feeling it matted with blood and soot. You’re going to need another shower when you get back to Zaun, and your clothes are definitely ruined, covered in scratch marks and failed bites.

When Sevika doesn’t say anything, you slowly turn your head to her and your heart plummets. The imposing presence you had come to know has crumpled into a husk, shaking against the foot of the tree, covered in blood and gore and soot, the ends of her hair singed. Her shoulders are hunched forward, staring down at her trembling hand, covered in blood. You follow the path of her hand to her right thigh and the massive tear in her pants. Blood oozes from bitemark, sunken damn near down to bone.

“No,” you whisper in disbelief, feeling tears well up in the corners of your eyes.

[inspiteallthedanger]

Just finished Going Nowhere and am currently going out of my mind with how good it is! I really appreciate all the care and attention to detail, like even with it being a fantasy it's all still very grounded in who these people were and what we know of what happened and how they spoke to each other and about themselves. It never feels hacky or cliche or like it takes the easy way out of particular plot beats, and the catharsis of them being able to say all these things to each other and rediscover their love in a whole new way and grow old together with all the natural ups and downs is truly beautiful.

There's really just something about these guys that is so mythically captivating to me, the way they were at the center of the cultural zeitgeist and genuinely changed the world while being a story about friendship and growing up and regrets and miscommunication, and the more time has passed the more we've gotten to peel back all those clouded layers of business and media coverage to know them as people. And I love how you portray the intensity of their need to connect and be close to each other through the music and the LSD as they were the only means that seemed possible then.

Also a sidenote, I like how you dealt with Yoko and Linda very empathetically and letting them be their own people and not just an obstacle or emotional support.

This is the most lovely ask, thank you so, so much! I am very fond of Going Nowhere even though I’ve always been too afraid to reread it.

But reading this made me so happy, because that’s exactly what I wanted to achieve with it. I just wanted to give them the chance to wade through their shared history and find some well deserved peace. At their core was always love and always a deep friendship and appreciation of each other. So it was nice to pull that out and let them rediscover it over time.

And I loved getting to write this version of Linda. She was so fun and her and John’s relationship turned out to be one of the most fun parts of the fic for me.

Anyway. Thank you for taking the time to send this. It’s made my week 💕

[digitalsatyr23]

What the Fire Said

Setting: Arachnia Characters: Sonja and Vernar

Outside the cave, a terrible rainstorm was coming down. Harsh, suffocating winds, a downpour causing mudslides, and lightning that blackened long dead trees. It had been dry for a very long time in Besalbrie, but it was as if all the water the country had been denied up until then was coming down at once

Sonja had been separated from Vernar just as the storm was picking up. It all started when she and the masked assassin noticed dark clouds looming up above. They were both so used to the drought and dust storms that it seemed unthinkable that a rainstorm could be brewing. But then, creatures started falling from the clouds. Legless flying birds with four wings growing in an X-shape were descending upon the land, firing bolts of lightning from their mouths and scooping up any hapless animal small and slow enough to become their prey. Vernar called the creatures "arrowhawks", and when an especially large one took notice of the pair, it fired a bolt of lightning right at them. Vernar shoved Sonja out of the way, taking the blast right in the chest. Another bolt of lightning missed its mark, striking a nearby tree near the base of its trunk. The tree was consumed by fire as it fell, creating a natural barrier between Sonja and Vernar. What surprised Sonja the most, however, was that Vernar seemed unharmed by the lightning. While the assassin was scorched where they had been struck, their body seemed suffused with lightning, and their right arm had bulged with muscle. Vernar was tightening one of their leather straps wrapped around their bicep.

"Sonja... In case I lose control... Run!"

Those were the only words Sonja needed to hear. She got back on her feet and ran as fast as she could. That was when the rain started to fall. First in sprinkles, and then in torrents. The dry, crumbling dirt softened, turning to mud. Sonja's bare feet lost their grip on the ground, and the girl tripped, sliding across the muddy earth until she banged into a tree. Hardier, greener trees were growing at the base of a mountain, and they would provide good coverage from the rain. Only, another arrowhawk had spotted Sonja, and it was coming down fast.

The girl got back on her feet, using a branch from the tree to brace herself. The incoming bird would soon be upon her, and it flew too fast to strike with her claws. Instead, she held out her hands and focused, drawing upon the ether flowing through her body. Yes... Water was flowing freely over Besalbrie once again. Sonja may have grown wet from the rain, but the arrowhawk was drenched too. In front of Sonja, a small ball of ice was taking shape. No bigger than a man's eye, it grew and grew in size, swirling with greater and greater speed. The wind, the rain, and everything around Sonja seemed to intensify, and veins of ice were growing over her hands and forearms. Just when the arrowhawk was about to strike, Sonja fired her iceball, striking the arrowhawk right in its twin mouths. A thick sheet of ice formed over the bird in an instant, turning it into a statue. The monster slammed into the ground and shattered, bits of frozen blood pouring out like slush.

Sonja shook her hands and tried using the rainwater to rub the frost off of her. It was no good. She needed to find someplace warm and dry. She peered through the nearby forest, looking for the safest place within. By chance, it seemed that the forest was hiding the entrance to a cave. Sonja took the opportunity and ran; snatching stray twigs and leaves as she went. Once inside the cave, she looked around in the darkness, saw there were no threats, then made a fire. Vernar had taught her a great many things since they had first met. How to find food, how to hunt animals, how to build shelters out of natural materials, and of course, how to make a fire. First, she took the broadest stick she could find and carved a hole into it so she could place some tinder. Parts of the forest were so dense that the rainwater had yet to pierce the canopy, so she was lucky in that regard. With the tinder placed, it was simply a matter of spinning another stick (which she carved one end of to be rounder and blunt) with her hands. It took much longer than she would have liked, but friction gave way to heat, and heat turned to embers. She nourished those tiny embers with a few hot breaths and just like that, she had a small flame. From there, it was a simple matter of keeping the flame alive long enough to heat up her kindling and sticks. A sense of pride washed over Sonja as the fire grew before her. The young girl held her hands out to the fire. A tingly sensation came over her as her red, freezing fingers grew warm. Soon enough, she stopped her shivering, and she was finally able to dry herself. It was strange. She always thought she should fear fire for what it did to her feet, but instead of frightening her, it fascinated her. She loved watching the flames flicker, smoke dance, and burning wood crack as embers flew up into the sky. It was... Comforting. Perhaps she knew that fire would never hurt her. Fire was natural, it was free. If fire hurt you, it would only be accidental, or it was used against you as a weapon. She didn't blame the fire for what happened to her feet. She blamed the people who had lit the fire beneath her. Sonja's memory of what happened was... Fuzzy. Back then, she had known nothing but pain, hunger, and cruelty. She didn't even know how to speak, let alone defend herself. Even so, the sense of dread and despair her past gave her was something she'd never forget.

"I'm glad they're dead," she whispered to herself. "They all deserved to die..."

"I agree."

A voice called out, faint enough to match Sonja's whispers but clear enough that it couldn't have been her imagination. She looked around. Her eyes could discern the faintest movement in the dark, yet as far as she could tell, there was no one in the cave except her. Most sound was being drowned out by the storm outside, and the smoke and burning wood of the fire was obscuring most smells. Was it a hidden enemy? No... There wasn't anyone at all.

Sonja went back to looking at the fire. It was a relaxing sight. She wanted to know what happened to Vernar, but given the things they had been through together, Sonja was more than confident they would be okay. She would just have to be patient and hope Vernar noticed the light her fire was making. Sitting with her legs crossed near the flickering flames, Sonja's eyelids grew heavy. Though she could feel her stomach rumbling, begging for food, the pains of hunger were something she had long grown used to. For the moment, she was at peace. Peace... Safety... And quiet... Before she completely fell asleep, however, Sonja snapped to, sitting straight up. She could feel a tingle across her arms, like small bumps were forming. Something was nearby... Something dangerous. Looking down, she realized what it was. It was the fire, reaching out a grasping tendril of flame towards her spare twigs.

The girl froze in place. She had never seen fire do something so strange - and she had dealt with fey! A morbid curiosity befell her, and she picked up a stick, handing it to the fire. It gladly wrapped its tendril around the twig and drew it in, consuming it with the rest of the wood.

"Are you... Alive?" asked Sonja.

"That's a matter of perspective."

Sonja hopped back onto her feet, claws at the ready. A single eye formed in the center of her fire, staring at her. It had an eyelid too, and its expression could only be described as... Patient frustration.

"Who are you? Are you a spirit?!" Sonja shouted.

"I am... What you see." The voice she had heard twice before seemed to emanate from the fire itself. It continued, saying, "I am burning. I am hunger. I am death."

"Bold words for someone so small," Sonja raised an eyebrow. "Still, if you really are the fire, then I'll try and be respectful. Would you like more wood?"

"Yes, please."

Sonja helped feed the fire by placing more sticks inside of it. The fire grew in size, and its orange and yellow glow made Sonja's shadow dance upon the cavern walls.

"Is that better?" asked Sonja.

"Much better. Thank you," said the fire.

Sonja sat back down, crossing her legs on top of each other as she did before. She tilted her head back and forth, watching as the flame's eye followed her.

"What are you doing?" asked the fire.

"N-nothing. Say, are you the spirit of all fire, or are you just the spirit of THIS fire?"

"Burning and hunger is all I've ever known."

"Yeah? I see..."

Silence followed as Sonja basked in the renewed warmth of the flames. There was a kind of crispness to the heat that she could feel, like an invisible aura rubbing up against her.

"Thanks for drying me," Sonja finally said. "I don't know if you wanted to, but I appreciate it."

The fire's eye closed momentarily. "And thank you for breathing me into life."

"Oh, you're welcome. I... Needed to feel some heat. It got pretty bad outside."

"I can tell. Thunder, lightning, wind, and rain have all come out to play. What once was dry earth can now finally have its thirst quenched."

"Do you know them?" asked Sonja. "The wind and rain?"

"Yes and... No. I can sense faint echoes of understanding. I am... A piece of something greater. An extension. They, too, were once part of something greater."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to say. All I know is that this place, this world... Is broken. It has been for a very, very long time."

Sonja frowned at this statement. "You can say that again. No matter where I go, there always seems to be something wrong. I don't think the land is dying, though. Maybe withered? Do you know why?"

"Life."

"Life?"

"Yes. There has always been a balance in nature. Rabbits eat plants where there is food a plenty. Rabbits multiply. Wolves eat rabbits because there is now enough food for them. With the rabbits gone, the plants can regrow. With the rabbits gone, the wolves starve, and the rabbits can return. The world is a cycle of hunger, consumption, death, and revival. This is how it was always meant to be... But there are those who are too clever to be consumed, too clever to die off when food grows scarce. They have learned to cheat the cycle. They shape nature to their whims, create more than they would ever need, and strip the land of its life force... Do you know who I am referring to?"

Sonja thought about the fire's words for a time. There was only one answer, as far as she could tell. "People?"

"Precisely. People are a blight upon this beautiful, terrible world."

"Even me?"

The fire said nothing for a time, its eye closed once more. "Perhaps... Perhaps not. If a balance could be restored, then not everyone has to die. Simply enough for the world to... Recover."

Outside, the storm still raged on. The winds were harsher, the rains heavier, and both rocks and loose trees were giving way to the mudslides. Sonja took notice of this, feeling a shiver run up her spine.

"How do you know all this?" Sonja asked.

"The echoes. I can feel them. I am a piece of something much greater. Greater than what you see before you."

Sonja stared at the fire. She still liked the warmth and light it provided, but its words left her feeling troubled.

"But you'll never rejoin that part of you, huh?" said Sonja.

The fire grumbled at this and said, "No... I never will. I am nothing but an echo. Nothing but an ember. The rest of me is too far away. I cannot reach it."

"If you could, would you?"

"Yes."

"Even if that meant losing yourself in the greater whole?"

The fire hesitated for a moment before saying, "It's only natural to wish to be whole. Don't you feel the same way?"

"I can't say I know that feeling. I'm not a small piece of anything. I'm just me."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah?"

The fire leered at Sonja, or more... It felt as if it were looking at something behind Sonja. The girl glanced over her shoulder. Nothing was there.

"I see..." said the fire. "Perhaps one day you will understand. As for me, I shall continue to hunger. I shall continue to burn. There is nothing else for me in this life."

Sonja's eyelids felt heavy. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. The fire had grown quiet. It said no more words. Its eye had also disappeared. All that was left was flame, slowly eating away at all the wood she had collected.

"Did I imagine that?" Sonja wondered. "I don't think I was asleep, but... I was feeling tired earlier..."

"Sonja," said a shadowy figure at the cave's entrance. "What are you talking about?"

It was Vernar. They had finally reached the cave, and their arm seemed fine as well. Sopping wet, the assassin stayed at the lip of the cave, doing their best to wring water out from their black clothes.

"It was... Nothing," said Sonja.

"I know that look. It certainly wasn't nothing. What happened while I was away?" asked Vernar.

Sonja sighed, taking a moment to organize her thoughts. She then explained everything that had transpired in the cave. The fire, the voice, its cryptic words... She spoke of every detail. While Sonja spoke, Vernar eventually took their place beside the fire, making use of its warmth to finish drying off. They even lifted their mask forward ever so slightly to let trace amounts of water trapped behind it leak out, but never enough to allow Sonja to see Vernar's face. When the girl was done, Vernar crossed their arms and hummed in thought.

"You're certain the fire told you all of this?"

Sonja nodded. "I almost fell asleep, but I'm certain it wasn't a dream."

"Is that so..." Vernar extended their clawed hands occluded in black over the flame. Small droplets of water fell away, sizzling on the glowing embers along the cracked wood. "You know, fire is spoken of in both magical and alchemical texts. In the world of magic, fire is the element of ambition. In the world of alchemy, fire is seen as the element of transformation. While they each share a different perspective, there is one thing they have in common. Fire is seen as change. It can cook your food. It can burn your house down. It can light your path. Fire can do a great many things. It doesn't surprise me that a flame spirit's personality would reflect this trait. As for what it said, I have my own opinions on the matter, but what do you think?"

Sonja groaned. "You know I don't have a head for these sorts of things..."

"Don't make excuses. Whether it was consciously or not, I'm certain you formed an opinion while listening to the fire. What is it?"

"Well... I think life is unfair."

"Oh?"

"You can't choose where you're born, what you're born as, or the state of the world you happen to be born into. The world is always changing. Sometimes you get lucky and are born into a situation that suits you. Other times you're born into a crazy cult that wants to sacrifice you and your kind to bring the rain." Sonja looked away from Vernar. "We can make the best of our circumstances, but we can't really change them. Not unless you're someone strong, like you."

The eye on Vernar's mask closed. "In other words, there's no point in complaining. The world will never be how you want it to be, so instead, try and put your energy towards something productive."

Sonja nodded at this, saying, "Exactly. I know it was saying that people ruined the world, but... Did we? I feel like it's closer to people changed the world."

"Indeed. The only world that was ruined was the one the spirit preferred. It is said that long ago, there were no people. The world was barren of all but the elements, wild and free. But then the gods took hold of that chaotic world and forged it into something new. The gods then made people, who in turn adapted the world to suit their own needs. Nothing lasts forever..." Vernar looked outside towards the rainstorm. "Not even drought. Perhaps there will come a time when even people are usurped and replaced."

Sonja leaned in towards Vernar saying, "Seriously?!"

"I can't say for certain, though. Best not to dwell on it, right?"

Sonja then leaned back again, grumbling. Vernar liked to pose philosophical questions, but Sonja couldn't help but wonder if Vernar used them to hide deeper truths. How dangerous was the world? What were its secrets? Perhaps it was better not to know. Stay ignorant. Stay happy.

"As if!" thought Sonja. "There's so much to learn about the world, so much to uncover and understand. Whether Vernar helps me or not, I'll find the answers someday."

"You seem excited for something," said Vernar.

"O-oh! It's uh... I was just thinking about what would be really tasty to eat!" said Sonja, rubbing her belly. Vernar narrowed their eye at her.

"Is that so?"

Sonja and Vernar still had a great deal of walking to do. For now, they would wait, and when the time was right, they would continue their journey. Though Sonja would get wrapped up in a great many events, she never forgot the day she spoke with fire. Its words stayed with her, forever echoing in her mind.

"Perhaps one day you will understand. As for me, I shall continue to hunger. I shall continue to burn. There is nothing else for me in this life."

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, John 5:18(1)

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(No icon) In which someone starts to really use his powers.

IN THE DREAM, night had fallen, or what she assumed was night. They were lying atop the hill they had climbed and he was pointing out all the constellations that they would be able to see if it weren’t for the thick green cloud and the softly falling flakes of ash. They were lying head-to-head, their eyes aimed at the right part of the sky to see, or in this case not see, the Southern Cross. The stars were sweet and familiar, but she did not know their names, though they seemed to be at the tip of her tongue. She asked him why it was called the Southern Cross. He said that was just one name for it, but the stars were in a cruciform pattern and it was only visible from the southern hemisphere. He said when he was little he’d been taught it was the anchor of a ship.(2) He still preferred that, he said. Liked the idea that the Milky Way was pinned down and couldn’t go anywhere. Said when he was a kid he hated change, any change at all. She had quite liked change—mostly. But he did not want to dwell on that. So she asked him about the fingers trick, and he was happier to talk about why it had upset everyone so much.

After everyone in the gang has had a chance to see him do it, they needed to come to terms with it. C- and G-, despite being raised religious, took it better than anyone. M- was an atheist since age 12, even though her best friend was a nun. A- giving her "a benzo and a shot of whiskey" helped too, John thinks.

Still, they all wanted to believe in him. They all wanted a miracle. P- worried about a zombie apocalypse, but Ulysses and Titania weren't zombies, they were fully controlled by John's commands and will.

He and she sit in the fallout ash for a bit.

After a moment, he said: I knew it was fine. I knew I’d touched something, come away with something, that could be used for good. Could be used to fix everything, used for you.(3) I only had to figure out how. There was so much to figure out. But I’d got a dream team on tap, eh?

Then they started testing the limits. What he can and can't do, how much he can control them, from what distance. They even dug up a graveyard, to P-'s annoyance at having to cover it up, and he could "raise" the bodies of the long-dead as well.

At that point, they knew the biggest risk was getting caught, getting institutionalized, or weaponized by more stakeholders. Maybe they'd seen too many movies.(4)

He said, So we figured that what we had to do was make as big a noise as humanly possible, turn to the public. Find out if anyone else was like me, if there was someone out there who could do the same thing. And there was a way we could do just that. It was a different time back then. I didn’t want to do it. It felt too—kill switch, too awful to contemplate. Too grisly. Too shitty. But it was the only trick we had up our sleeves. He sighed and said, “We had the internet. We decided to stream.” She said, “What is this internet?” And he said, “See, I did make a utopia.”(5)

=====

(1) "Hereupon therefore the Jews sought the more to kill him, because he did not only break the sabbath but also said God was his Father, making himself equal to God." Well, that certainly seems relevant, are we four for four? Of course we are. I don't love the layer of "the Jews sought the more to kill him" because that sort of thing has been long, long used to justify antisemitism, but some people are probably getting more upset at John for not complying and giving up, considering how hard they worked to shut him down. Meanwhile letterizing brings us to THETOWER. Well, we certainly saw many towers at Canaan House, but this feels more specific somehow. THE tower, or perhaps The Tower, not just any old tower. (2) It's true! The constellation the North knows mainly as the Southern Cross, or Crux, is known in Maori culture as the anchor on the Milky Way's boat. (3) That sneaky "you" again. (4) How many of us haven't made wild plans for things like nuclear attacks or zombie apocalypses because we've seen too much fiction to not think about it on some level? Even though the risks are so low for most of the world. (5) The joke almost as old as the internet, that the internet is hell and cursed and we'd be better off without it. We wouldn't, mind, but I still laughed.

[fleetingnights0952]

Shadows and Gold

(Around 3k words)

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Charachter death, blood, gore, violence etc. Angels and non human characters.

Ao3: Shadows and Gold

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The past three months had been a fucking disaster. The pain radiating through the angels body with every move just served as an annoying reminder of that. He knows he shouldn't have agreed, but this was basically what he had signed up for all those years ago when he’d started his training.

Everything he’d ever worked for had all boiled down to this moment. All his training, all the long days at the fields, the sore muscles and bruises, everything had in the end led to this. A final battle, fighting to protect their realm. Their home.

It would be their last deployment the higher ups had said. They must have meant that quite literally, or maybe it had just been bad luck that put them here. it wasn't just them who’d had a hard time though. The battles were raging everywhere.

Heaven had been greatly weakened. Many of their angelic guards, the elite soldiers who’d been feared by most and seen as almost unbeatable, were now laying dead in heaps all over the Borderlands. The deep black smoke of the shadows, their enemy, clinged to its victims and stained their wings and skin in various shades of gray and black.

Even the smallest cut could be life threatening, something that a couple of his friends had to find out the hard way. Wounds that wouldn’t close, scrapes that didn't heal. The darkness would spread through the blood, making the veins blacken and become visible through the skin. It could be the tiniest thing, but as soon as you saw the color shifting, you were as good as dead. He'd buried most of them himself, killed some too.

The shadows themselves had been around since the beginning of time. As creatures of twisted shadows they had been forced to live in the darkness. They had been easy to deal with when they first started to violate the borders, but that was years ago.

Their weapons were almost useless now, the shadows having evolved and developed some kind of resistance against the steel of their blades. Now they were almost impossible to defeat without the help of light, and the few people still able to wield that power were doing their best at holding the lines. It wasn’t nearly enough, just barely keeping the borders intact.

They’d had one of those in their group at the start, a young girl, but she was long dead. Hell, there were a lot of them in the beginning, but by now he’s probably the only one left of their group. It's strange, because he would have never thought he’d be the last one standing.

He's trudging through the battlefield with his wings hanging heavy behind him, dragging over the ground. Mud and various kinds of debris stick to them, feathers breaking and falling off. It should be easy, just raising them slightly off the ground, but they're such a weight on his back and he can’t find the strength to.

He's walking over the almost completely open field, covered in dying or dead grass and now also tainted with blood. The objective is to get away from the open area, because out there he’s an easy target, especially alone. The trees might give him a bit of coverage, but would probably not hinder the shadows that much. His only chance of escaping is getting over the border, but he has to make it there.

With each step the pain in his side flares up, and he can feel the pulsing of blood against the hand he has pressed against his abdomen, pouring out of a wound caused by claws, dripping down over his fingers. The golden color stains his armor and leaves a glistering trail in the foggy darkness that clouds the now mostly lifeless field. Some stains of black can be seen amongst the gold, but it's not anywhere close in amount.

His head feels heavy, thoughts fuzzy and laced with pain, but he tries to keep his guard up, as much as possible. He can still feel them around him, watching. It's like a darkness twisting in his peripherals, following the angel as he walks.

He knows that if he would look closer at the wound he would see the blackness there too, starting to fester, but there's nothing he can do about it so he’s ignoring it for now. There’s nothing to do but continue to walk, holding on to some baseless, meaningless hope there might be a cure.

The shadows don’t attack him, just keep close to him, flicking around almost as if they're toying with him. Some are braver than others, coming forward and caressing his wings, his legs, his arms. Every touch leaves an icy cold feeling in its wake.

He tries to ignore them, tries to ignore the creeping coldness settling inside him, but he can feel his steps slowing, involuntarily. The loss of blood certainly doesn’t help at all with the fatigue that's starting to threaten to drag him under. His legs get weaker and his hands are starting to go numb.

The knife he's been clutching so desperately in his hands falls to the ground and the sound of metal against stone rips through the silence. He leaves it there. It would be of no use anyway.

He keeps walking, but the field seems truly endless. He can see the treeline in front of him, but it’s like it moves with him, further away. It feels like he’s been walking for miles, but hasn’t gotten any closer. It's frustrating, but he can’t do anything else than force his body to continue to walk, pushing through the fog in his mind and bodily pain.

He must’ve gotten somewhere though, because he's passed multiple bodies, not sparing them more than a look. Most are just unrecognizable heaps of gray flesh and broken feathers covered in blood, no visible features to identify them by. He sees it as a blessing, not having to know how many of his friends had been slaughtered here.

Some of them are achingly familiar though, and he finds himself quickly turning his eyes away when he stumbles across the few he can recognize. The faces will haunt his mind for the rest of his days, he knows the visuals won't disappear from his mind ever. It's something he’ll have to bear with him to the last of his days. Which probably won’t be that much more than maybe a couple of hours at best, looking at his current situation. But who knows, he might get lucky.

Either way, giving up is a death sentence, as is feelings. It will be time for those later. When he’s home again.

As he walks he doesn’t really notice how the shadows thicken around him. He can feel his gloves getting soaked through with his blood, warm and sticky against him, clinging to his clothes and skin. And it just keeps pouring out of him. He didn't know he could lose this much and still function. Must be the adrenalin probably, which he unfortunately feels wearing off.

The pain is clearly bothering him. Both from the gash in his side, but by now he’s walking with a noticeable limp from a fall he'd just shrugged off earlier in the haze of battle. Just moving at all is a process of its own, every step forced, a painful but necessary movement. He can’t let himself rest yet. It's not safe. He just has to get to the borders.

His right wing unexpectedly drags over something sharp and he shouts out in pain. The edge of a jagged blade has made a deep gash right through it, and the feathers are quickly getting drenched in blood. It pools on the ground and only adds to the specks of gold scattered all over the ground, seemingly glowing in the moonlight.

Another injury to add to the list, and another way for him to lose blood. Just what he needed.

It really hurts, wings being one of the most sensitive parts on an angels body, but he forces himself to step over the body the blade belonged to and keep walking. The trail of blood behind him is more noticeable now though. Thicker.

They’ve always been told, early in training, that wings bleed alot, but he’ll probably be able to make it there without fainting. He just has to get over the border, which can’t be that far away. Just through the forest, and the treeline he’s been aiming at must have gotten at least a little bit closer. It can’t be that far away.

The blood loss though is becoming a bigger problem, and he can clearly feel it affecting him. He's getting slow. Probably too slow.

He shakes his head in frustration, a pathetic attempt to rid him of the fog in his mind. Fixating his gaze on the ground, a couple of meters in front of him, he forces his legs to pick up the pace.

The smoky darkness continues to deepen around him over time until he's completely surrounded. The shadows thicken, swirling and twisting, weaving through each other and themselves. Cutting out the last hints of the moonlight, the darkness of them leaves him almost completely blind. The edge of the forest in the distance, his lifeline, is quickly disappearing from sight.

They cover everything around him. The only light present now is the small amount that naturally radiates from his skin, and even that seems to dim. When he no longer is able to see the ground in front of him he’s forced to stop walking. As soon as he does, he knows he won't be able to get himself to start again.

His eyes desperately look around for a possible way out but they're everywhere. Hints of panic start to arise, but he can't let it take over. It would be a certain death sentence. A deep breath is forced through clenched teeth into his lungs as he pushes the rising panic down deep inside him. Trying to keep himself sharp.

But he’s so tired, both mind and body. Completely exhausted. Why is he still trying? He honestly doesn't know anymore.

Inky black tendrils of smoke reach out towards him, now with much more intent behind their movements than before. They solidify as soon as they reach his skin. Pure black and like thick tar they wrap around his arms and roots his feet to the ground. He doesn’t resist at all, doesn’t have the strength to. The skin where the shadows touch slowly turns grayer, like all colors are drained from him, and the coldness of them burns him.

They pull him down and his legs buckle beneath him. He doesn’t feel his knees hit the ground. Everything has gone quiet around him. The wind that had been raging over the fields earlier now eerily silent in the night. The soft light that naturally emerges from him is slowly fading as the darkness deepens around him, seemingly swallowing it.

The shadows in front of him weave together and form something akin to something humanoid. Its frame is tall, towering over him, especially where he is on his knees beneath it. His head starts pounding like crazy, and he sucks in a pained breath. It’s like his skull is about to explode. Something warm runs down over his lips before dripping down on his lap, and when he opens his mouth he can taste a slight but distinct metallic tang. Blood.

He's bleeding, probably a nosebleed. Fucking perfect.

The tendrils around his arms and legs tighten around him and he’s more than stuck, completely unable to move at all. The force of them around his limbs hurt, and he lets out a pained groan. His fingers tingles as a result of the now restricted blood flow. He tries wiggling them to maybe get some feeling back, but it doesn't work as well as he might have hoped.

The thing steps closer to him, crouching down to where he is trapped on his knees before it, kept tightly in place by its bindings. The wisps of dark smoke and shadows which make up its body twists around, never being still and weaves in and out through each other. There’s no features to it, its form ever changing. He can see the faintest hint of black wings behind it,but he can't be sure. They seemingly shift out of focus, flickering in and out of his vision.

Maybe it’s just his mind that's unable to focus. It’s certainly hard, with the headache mercilessly assaulting his senses. His nose is still bleeding, and when he’s again forced to open his mouth to breathe the taste of blood floods his mouth from where it drips down over his lips.

An ice cold hand is pushing against his chin, tilting his head, forcing him to look up at the thing in front of him. The hand moves from his chin to cup his face, its claws digging in, threatening to break skin.

He flinches when he feels the hint of sharp claws dragging against the side of his head through his short hair. The hand comes to a rest at the top of his head and it stays there for a couple of seconds before the thing releases its grip, standing up again. His head falls forward as soon as it lets go of it, no strength left in him to keep it up on his own. The ground is spinning before his eyes, moving around and blurring together until there’s nothing distinct anymore.

His mind is unable to comprehend it, doesn't know what's going on. The feeling of solid ground beneath his knees at least helps the angle to keep himself somewhat tethered to reality.

Suddenly it grabs him again, lifting him up by the throat, leaving his feet just shy of touching the ground. He hadn't even realized the bindings had loosened from his legs. It probably wouldn't have made that much of a difference though. There’s not much he could've done.

His arms instinctually fly up and frantically try to grab at it, desperately trying to get out, but it has an iron grip on him. Instead of letting him go it tightens around his neck, cutting off his windpipe. His eyes go wide. He can't breathe.

He claws at the arm in panic, but it doesn't seem to face it. It doesn’t care at all. The blood on his hands just makes it harder to get a good grip, and despite his efforts he only manages to smear golden streaks all over. Not even a scratch.

Shadows twist themself tightly around him. They wrap around the base of his wings, hard. Some snake around his torso, clinging to him and pressing against his armor, digging in painfully. He fights it but he's again rendered almost completely imobile, the hand around his throat making his breaths just short cut off gasps, and he has to-

His left wing snaps under the pressure, and he screams. The broken, jagged bone rips through layers of both skin and muscle and blood quickly wells up. His scream echoes in the otherwise empty silence. Wet warm blood flows down his back, tears streak his face and his hands fall limp at his sides, no longer fighting.

The other wing shatters too, the sound of bones splintering loud, echoing in his skull. It’s completely blinding, flooding him and washing away anything else, replacing it with white burning pain. It's so much worse than anything he’s felt before. It's all he can think of.

He’s begging through the haze, pleading for it to just kill him, to end it. But it seems as if it isn't quite done with him yet. The shadows just sweep over his skin, like a mockery of a gentle caress. Maybe they listened to him, but it isn't anything near the quick painless death he wished for.

One of the more solid tendrils tears through his back, ripping straight through hard muscle as if paper. He's screaming, but any sound seems unable to leave him. All he’s able to let out is a low, gargled sound, with fluids quickly filling his mouth and trickling out from between his lips and down his chin. It's bubbling up his throat, tasting so strongly of metal. Blood, his blood. Pouring into his lungs, drowning him from the inside.

Warmth spreads over his chest and makes his undershirt stick uncomfortably to his skin. He looks down, regretting it immediately, wishing he hadn’t.

The tendril is quickly getting drenched in gold. It has broken right through his armor, through his body. He can’t feel anything though, which is a big difference from the blazing pain just moments earlier. His mind is completely disconnected. His mind can't quite grasp that it's his body, but it must be. He’s sure of it.

It's just that he can't feel anything. Nothing except for the numbing cold, running down his spine, flooding his chest where it’s spilling over, tainting everything else. Spreading over and covering him completely. It’s almost peaceful, but so, so cold.

Moments later everything erupts, light exploding around him, covering him and everything else in a purple hue. The angels blood and the shadows reacting with each other. Pain, earlier dormant, crashes down on him like tidal waves, but he’s unable to scream, the blood in his mouth and lungs just making it into a gurgled mess. With every painful, raspy attempt at breathing blood bubbles up from his mouth, splattering everywhere.

He looks down helplessly at his chest again where the bloodstain is growing rapidly, his life quite literally pouring out of him and down onto the ground. Its burning, eating straight through skin and muscle, through his bones. Like the ghost of flames on his skin, but with no sign of fire.

The previous pain flaring from his broken wings is nothing compared to this. The cold numbness was a mercy, and he so desperately wants it back, wishes it would envelop him again and protect him from the raging flames.

Because this is so much worse, he's gonna die-

It hits him, then. He’s going to die here. Alone. He hasn't even realized that the creature has let go of his throat, but now he can feel the clawed fingers feeling around the edges of the wound. His body is twitching with every touch. He probably wouldn't be able to move even without the restraints. Not with his broken wings and the agony he’s in, not to mention the blood loss.

The claws prodding at the wound press harder, deeper, pushing against the bloodied mess of skin and muscle in the center of his chest. It presses down deeper into the warmth of his body, past a shattered rib cage and torn up muscles and flesh.

Multiple cracks break through the stillness of the night as the hand forces itself deeper. It makes space for itself inside his chest, forcing flesh and organs to move out of the way. He can't do much more than gasp for air between the mouthfuls of blood which pours down his throat and the fluid filling his lungs. The flames continue to rage through his body, but the hand is cold as ice, an extreme contrast and it makes the pain much more intense.

He doesn't know if it's the lack of oxygen or the blood loss, probably a combination, but his mind is muddy, thoughts drowsy. Black spots dance before his eyes. He doesn't have the strength left to do anything. When the hand grabs around something inside him, pulling back and ripping it out, he can't do more than watch the blood spray as the hand leaves his body, heart gripped tight in it.

His vision quickly fades, consciousness too, and when the shadows at last drop him, he just sinks down on the ground in an unmoving heap. Blood quickly pools underneath him, out of his body and onto the ground.

The darkness still clings to the field. The outline of the creature blends with the moving smoke around it before completely disappearing.

The wind has picked up again, and the faint trickle of rain falls, starting to wash away the blood, dragging it down deeper into the ground. The shadows too start fading, no longer clogging the sky, and the first rays of sunlight manage to break through, lighting up the field at last. As the final shadows disperse, disappearing from the scene it leaves just another broken body on the battlefield. One body amongst many others.

---

Thoughts?

[jodilin65]

Well, the Tingo adventure ended almost as fast as it began because their site is unbelievably glitchy as hell. Never seen anything like it. I guess they’re just seriously understaffed what with how expensive it is to run AI stuff. Unless you’re a huge company like Bing, it’s very hard to afford from what Tom explained to me.

It explains why I was surprised to see so many pitifully old, ugly characters. Some people might find that appealing but that many?

It will no longer let me create characters I want but it will sometimes create randomly generated ones and sometimes I get these old, fat, ugly bitches. So the others I’m seeing on the Discover page probably didn’t intend to create them either but the users didn’t bother to delete them.

Tom signed up using a disposable email since verifications weren’t going to real email addresses for some reason, so I could get 20 coins but then I realized that he didn’t need to sign up. I could have done this myself with a disposable email address.

Anyway, I tried contacting them on their social media accounts and through email but have been ignored. I don’t see how they can expect anyone to want to pay for something so insanely glitchy.

Ray just got in. I like it when he’s out at night because that’s one less chance for him to decide to blast his TV. He’s still been pretty good for the most part, though. Still, I’ll like it better when he and the other snowbirds get the hell out. Two more months!

The planes are back to being annoying in the evening but I’m hoping that’s just because of the heavy cloud coverage due to the rain we’ve had in the last couple of days.

Jessie asked me if I knew any French and I told her that I can read some but never studied it as much as other languages because I don’t like it. She said she and David were thinking of celebrating their 30th anniversary in St Lucia so she thought it would be nice to know some French. I recommended Duolingo to her. I can’t imagine her learning much French, though, because it’s not only a tough language but languages just aren’t her thing any more than their Tom’s thing. She can barely write in her own language. She’s definitely a numbers girl.

Looked on the map and saw that it’s close to Martinique and remembered what my nieces said if you can believe the little bitches. They said it was the worst vacation they were ever on because they hate Americans and were very rude.

Either way, I’m happy for her but a little frustrated for us. I know it’s supposed to be “bad thinking” but hey, sometimes we can’t help how we feel and it’s okay to have our feelings, whatever they are. Our own 30th anniversary is a few months away and I’m going to be bogged down with heavy fatigue after my second shingles shot and even if I wasn’t, we’re too poor to ever vacation anywhere again. I honestly believe that the flight here was our last. I always believed that but at least I got to go to different places and it’s not like I’ve never been anywhere. But they’re still working and we’re retired and you’re usually pretty damn low income when you’re retired. I would still rather have him home and not have money than have money and have him working all the time which I know he would hate. Money is nice but it isn’t everything and it’s not always worth it if you’re just going to be miserable. We’ve got enough to pay our bills but we’re still in debt and I don’t even know if we’ll even be able to do Red Lobster or get some Chinese food. He’s not a fan of either of these, though, so it’s no big deal. We’ll celebrate at home while I deal with vax side effects.

That’s the shitty thing about getting old like I said in my last entry, is that there aren’t many opportunities or surprises in your future. Sure, I may win a trip somewhere or a ton of money but what are the odds of that? Not that life was perfect when we were younger but the door was definitely open to more possibilities in our 20s and 30s and even our 40s and 50s as opposed to me getting close to my 60s and him getting close to his 70s.

I really like using my secondary Facebook account for all kinds of things from journals to pics to random thoughts that I would normally tweet. Maybe I won’t use Twitter much anymore. I decided to hold off on sharing current journals over there until I catch up with copying old stuff over there. I think it would be a bit confusing to go back and forth between old and new stuff.

[modx-reborn]

ok this thought is DERANGED but

doctor!simpbur with an oblivious reader who just lets him do whatever he deems “necessary” in their checkup.

and he does a lot of checkups. a lot.

You know what kay? I am going to kiss you, and kiss you, and kiss you.

This slap's, however I am throwing it under a read more cause medical/dubcon is not everyone's thing.

If anyone would look at your medical records there would be a least ten pages of reports, test requests and logs of negative and inconclusive tests all requested by your doctor, the tag of 'hypochondriac' hastily scribbled on one of the pages to excuse the tests and give leeway to what had been requested, and what would be requested. Coming from a private office, with the tests paid for there was nothing stopping them from happening, not your doctor, not the test staff, and certainly not you.

How could you, you were a little on the airy side, lost with the fairies, head stuck in the clouds and mind running with the wind.

Oh how that was exactly what he needed when it came to you, you were his star patient, his precious little testing doll, and maybe a little bit of an obsession of his. There was no stopping him when it came to what he would suggest and get you agreeing to when you stepped into his office, being well into your twenties meant there were no lingering parents and you always came alone, no partners or significant others trying to sit in, not that they would have been able to.

But today, today you had given him a perfect chance to go further, to have more to commit to memory, more to add to the haze he lost himself in the moment he was off duty.

You were scheduled for a check-up, called about pelvic pains and wanted either painkillers or some help finding the source so you could alleviate it. Sure he would help you, of course, he would he may be a creepy simp of a doctor but he would still help his dear patient, but pelvic pain meant a possible exam, which meant he could have his hands on you once again.

"Good Afternoon! How have you been? I-I mean apart from the pain, all is good? Well, I hope at least but, we should get right to it, hop up on the table and w-we can get to it!"

God if anyone were to ever come in and observe his exams with you, or if the medical students ever came to shadow him he would lose everything, just the sight of you laying back legs slightly spread as you wait for him to do as he sees fit. God, you were perfect like this, his sweet little patient that was oh so in need of his help, not even questioning as his hands slid from your thighs to ass more groping than just pressing to find the source of the pain, dipping his fingers under the band of your pants to press just above your underwear, hands still shaking as if this was the first time he had done such a thing.

Honestly, he was more worried you would question the lack of gloves this time, look down and ask why he was barehanded and touching you, but you never did, just lifting your hips slightly to let him pull down your pants and strip you down to the bare minimum of coverage for your lower half.

Sure he had gone further than this, been three fingers deep in you, pressing your hips down as he performed one of his 'examinations' had you moaning and half-heartedly bucking into his hand, hell he had even once made you lay back and take a syringe of his cum after he had quoted it as a medicine and watched how you simply let him do as he pleased, that sight may have been the breaking point, that day was his best so far, sure his hands were still gloved but you had been so perfect laid back legs spread dripping his cum, god if only he had gone through with fucking you that day.

But today would top it, he was certain, you were his last patient for the day and were booked for a long consult, the perfect time for him to finally see how far he could go, how far you would let him take you, how truly oblivious you were to what he was doing. May whatever god may watch over him keep the nurse out of his office for the next thirty minutes, he had found the source of the pelvic pain and had recorded it but muttered that he would be looking over again in case it wasn't its true source.

"W-We will need to strip you further okay? I am going to remove the last of your clothes and w-we'll see if I can find the real source of the pain. Just, just lay back and let me help..."

Even if he had seen you bare like this a hundred times before, there was no way he would ever not treat it like the very first time, shaking hands spreading your thighs, long fingers spread against your skin making sure he could see everything, knowing that at any moment you could look down at him and see how he had tented his pants, could lift your head from the clouds and look at him when long fingers begin to trace your entrance, teasing with the idea of dipping in and hearing you whine.

God if only you would look down at him now, pants were hastily undone, cock pulled free, one hand pumping himself as he reaches for the lube he kept for instruments, today he would finally get to have you, get to see how you stretched around his cock, would watch as you whined for something other than his fingers.

The cold feeling of lube dripping across your skin was just the beginning before long-familiar fingers were pressing in, working you open and stretching to brush that one spot he knew would make the most delicious and treasured noise spill from your lips.

You were such a good patient after all, willing to do any test, any examination, any sort of treatment and you were all his.

God his med school nickname really was accurate, Simpbur, Doctor Simpbur now but, that couldn't change what he was about to do...

[unholyhelbig]

More Kate x reader 🥺

I've got you covered! I didn't think people would actually enjoy the last one, so here's a little part two for you!

Read part one here | Request more prompts here

[Dedicated🥰 @ohmy-godyes @hoeforwandanat @haughtlikehell ]

I'll Be Home For Christmas Part 2 | Kate Bishop X Reader

There was a potted plant in the passenger seat that had seen better days. It’s leaves sagged but where still the firm color of healthy green. The cold couldn’t’ have been good for it, but that wasn’t your first thought when you placed it in a box and shoved it into your car with your coworkers watching from behind clouded glass. You could see their blobby silhouettes but kept your head high until you were a solid four blocks away from the building.

This had been a possibility. It was a risky story, and you laid your life on the line when you presented it to McCarty. Oliver hated it, he more than hated it he labeled it as slander and fired you two days before Christmas. He was never known for his kindness, but even this seemed like a lot.

You had taken it in stride, only crying into one carton of ice cream before you had settled on finding another job. It wouldn’t be hard, not in New York. You were close to household name, at least for lower fifty percent of the city that actually read the Daily Gazette. It was mainly for horse races. They weren’t known for the latest coverage on the Avengers, and they certainly weren’t the go-to for a company scandal involving socialite Jack Duquesne.

Kate didn’t say anything when she moved the plant to the back seat. It must have looked pathetic: a single mug with three ballpoint pens and a potted aloe plant that had seen better days.

You gave her a sheepish smile when she got into the car with her duffel bag. You planned on staying the night and leaving the next morning after a traditional breakfast of pancakes shaped like reindeer. Honestly- it was endearing, but one did not show up to Christmas with the news of getting fired.

Kate smelled like the outdoors, freshly melted snow and a hint of gasoline. She cleaned up nice, dawning a soft pink sweater and a high-waisted pair of pants. There wasn’t a hint of ash or dirt. She looked spotless aside from a small cut rimmed in purple on her chin, a half-bad bandage taped across it.

“So,” Kate said, adjusting her position until her foot was on the seat, chin resting on her knee. “Give me the rundown. What’s with this family situation?”

You hadn’t gotten this far, the explanation of the dynamic you all carried. Truthfully, there was a slim chance that Kate would even show. Now that she was in your passenger seat, a lazily gorgeous way about her, you nearly had no words. You had hit the usual bout of traffic on the bridge leading out of the city.

“I’m the youngest of three. Usually, that works in someone’s favor, right? I mean, I’m supposed to be the golden child. But that’s not what happened.” You said, “I have an older brother, Garret. He’s not so bad. He was a star quarterback in college but then blew out his knee and settled for coaching instead. Obviously, he’s my mother’s favorite. She’s not too fond of his wife, though. So that’s a point in our favor.”

Kate hummed softly and nodded, her apt attention was on you, and you fought off a subtle build-up of heat in your stomach that was hard to swallow back. You were never one for a loss of words, but her tender stare was enough to reduce you to a stuttering mess.

“Then there’s my sister, Clara. Valedictorian in school. Lawyer and altogether super mom. And her up-tight entrepreneur husband Steven. He says he’s a developer, but I’ve don’t know what that means because he’s never developed a single thing but a god complex.”

“Let me guess, your dad's favorite?”

“Bingo.” You tightened your grip on the wheel and merged into the exit lane. There wasn’t much highway from here, just two hours of bare trees and rolling hillsides. It was beautiful at times, but today held a certain cold greyness to it. “I didn’t make it easy; I suppose. With all my delinquent smoking and drinking, and god forbid the tattoos.”

Kate smiled at this, settling into her seat further “You rebel. Is that something I should know for small talk? That you’re a raging pothead?”

“Throw that in there and my mom will have a conniption.”

“Okay, noted.” She scrunched up her nose “What’s our story, then? How did we meet?”

You drummed your thumbs on the steering wheel and shot her a worried glance. You might be a writer, but this type of story was hard to conjure up. You couldn’t just say you found her trying to break into your neighbor’s apartment with a bobby pin. That seemed like the thing that would get both of you sent back to the city.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing.”

“I’ve got it. We met at a diner. You liked building little log cabins out of your waffles and I helped you construct a door with a toothpick and the two of us have been inseparable ever since. It wouldn’t kill you to fake some memory loss.” She looked at you expectantly, a small smile on her features.

“That’s literally the plot of an Adam Sandler movie.”

“It’s a cute movie.”

“I hate waffles.”

There was a quick silence in the car before the two of you burst into laughter. It was a nice sound. It warmed your bones after the week you had had. For a moment it didn’t matter that Kate was nearly a stranger. It didn’t’ matter that Oliver had fired you. It just mattered that you shared this moment.

“Alright… I think we met at an event.” You said, once the quiet settled again. “For work. It was one of those fancy galas that the Gazette covers all the time. You were the least boring person in the room, and- stunning. All eyes were on you, but you didn’t care to be there either. So, you suggested that we leave.”

You kept your eyes on the road. Kate’s stare was piercing, so you didn’t’ allow yourself to meet it. You knew this trek like the back of your hand: what exits to take, where to slow because a cop would be waiting against the side of the mountain for anyone pedal happy or reckless. You weren’t either of those things.

“I said no at first, but one look at you made me change my mind. We spent the night entirely too dressed up in a 24-hour diner talking, getting to know each other. You wrote your number on the napkin and the rest was history.”

The tires against wet asphalt was the only sound that you could hear over your own blood rushing past your ears. It felt like another moment where your mouth got ahead of your mind. Maybe you had overstepped and the whole night would be filled with awkward conversations and a clear transparency to their fake relationship.

You chanced a look at Kate. Her stare was still on you, ghostly and tender all at once. She had a proud tilt to her jaw as the sun had finally begun to stream through the windshield. It wasn’t hard to imagine the scene: the sparkling gowns, their edges dirtied by the diner floor, the scent of perfume and Shepard’s pie mixed with cold clove cigarettes.

“You’re a writer?” She asked.

“What?”

“What you just said… you’re a writer.”

You frowned, “If you ask my boss, no. Not a very competent one.”

She breathed out, a dumb smile on her lips as she finally turned to watch the way the trees blended together . “I like it. Sounds like us.”

[rainy-day-coffee]

Helloooo. First of all, I definitely LOVE your writing! Theyre so fun to read! And second, can I request hcs...or scenario (you can choose!) with octa trio + riddle and idia accidentally hearing their fem crush gushed enthusiastically about them to her friends? Thanks a lot!

AH- Thank you so much!! (^///^) I have a lot fun writing these for everyone, I’m super happy you like my posts!

Oh anon, this idea!!! I had so much fun with this!! I hope you like it! I genuinely want to make these all into full-fledged scenarios or maybe just mini-scenarios! If you would like one of those, you are more than welcome to ask for it! I’m going to have brainrot about this idea for a long time now, it’s just so cute!

Finding their fem!crush gushing about them to her friends!

Azul had just been minding his business, making his way through the campus of NCR, students avoiding him as usual. 

Walking around the corner, he hears you squealing to your group of friends. You sound so excited! It piqued his curiosity so he hid. Just what opportunity could you be presenting him with?

Very jealous at first, he doesn’t know who you’re talking so highly about. He never had much of a fair chance at a relationship with you, or so he believes. He supposes this conversation can be used as black-mail in the future.

And then he hears his name being followed along by another string of compliments.

Almost lets out the loudest gasp, but stops himself in time. He blushes a very deep shade of red. This isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be allowed to make his heart beat this quickly. And all those words of adoration, goodness! What is he supposed to do?

He’s thankful that he sent the twins off to go do something. Otherwise, they would tease him and push him towards you with no remorse. 

He proceeds to go straight to his room, launch himself into bed, hug a pillow, and roll around and squeal in joy.

He can use this to his advantage! Your little indirect confession will be used as coverage for when he ropes you into a contract! A contract of love that is!

Jade and Floyd can’t help but notice their boss is in a much happier mood the following days!

He already knew you harbored feelings for him. Remember, he’s amazing at reading people. Now, he was simply waiting for you to make your move.

He really hadn’t expected to find you and your friends in an empty hallway. You were practically vibrating in place while you told them about a certain crush of yours.

How bold of you to talk about such things in public! You can never know who will be listening.

His outside expression doesn’t change. He’s still smiling like usual. On the inside however, he’s quite happy. Technically, this doesn’t count as an advance on your part, but he can use this situation to his benefit.

He makes his way forward ever so quietly. Wrapped up in your excitement, you don’t even seem to notice him.

Your friends desperately try to tell you about the looming eel that is right behind you, please quiet down before you embarrass yourself further. 

It seems to be too late for that though.

You feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, finally alerting you of his presence. It’s no use trying to play off the situation, he heard just enough to know.

No please, go on, he insists. Just what else do you have to say? He wants to hear all of it.

Floyd never made his feelings a secret! This applies to his crush on you too! He’s a lot clingier with you, and he tends to drag you around more than anyone else! It’s quite obvious that you’re his obsession. However, you had yet to confess your love for him. What a shy shrimp you are! He’s starting to get a little impatient.

He wasn’t in the best of moods when he overheard your “confession.” He didn’t feel like working at Mostro Lounge or doing that really long assignment Professor Trein had given out. He was so bored.

His mood does a complete 180 when he hears you absolutely “melting” over a “tall and attractive eel who loves to squeeze you.” 

He’s so happy to hear that! He knew you loved him too! He quickly becomes annoyed soon after though. Shouldn’t you be telling him these things to his face? It’s quite rude to not be honest with a person.

Goes up and just glomps you right there and then, it doesn’t matter who you’re with or where you are. It’s time to spend the rest of your day with him now! Go on! Tell him about how much you adore him! You have a lot of nerve making him wait!

He’s going to squeeze you all day! This is your punishment for not confessing sooner! It’s impossible to escape now, when Floyd makes up his mind nothing can stop him.

Trey had told Riddle to take a short break from his paperwork. Not wanting to go far from the dorm, he decided to take a stroll through the maze. It was meant to be a relaxing 10-minute walk, not a stressful be quick and hide situation. He did it on impulse! He really didn’t know you were going to be here talking your heart out.

He knows it’s extremely rude to listen in on a private conversation, but he can’t seem to stop. What kind of person have you fallen in love with while he yearns for you?

He almost starts to cry when he realizes it’s him. You sound so genuine and happy when you talk about him! Even if he isn’t your boyfriend just yet, he feels so loved!

Always having been self-conscious for his lack of romantic knowledge, he’s glad you seem to like him anyways! He’s been trying to show off a bit with his magic and intellect lately, it’s paying off it seems!

Feels very guilty nonetheless, he had no right to hear any of this. When he confesses one day, he’ll do his best to apologize.

Riddle tries to calm his racing heart and stop the intense blush on his face before he leaves. He’s quite grateful Trey forced him out here.

He was watching you through the cams he has set up around school. He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything! He simply happened to be on the right camera at the right time.

He assumes the worst automatically. His self-loathing increases with every compliment you seem to give this mystery person. It clouds his logical thinking. Of course you would love someone else. He just spends his days wasting your time and doing nothing but hanging out in his room. He’s terrible with socializing too. You deserve a lot better.

The bigger part of him wants to shut-off his monitor, not wanting to listen anymore. The smaller part wants to know who’s the object of your affection. Who matches the description of “beautiful, long blue hair,” “pretty yellow eyes,” “adorable fanboy,” and “extremely smart.” It genuinely takes him a good minute or so to figure it out. It helps that you practically shout out his name too.

His entire being turns red, hair included. A room temperature increase follows suit. 

His heart can’t handle this! You’re the heroine to this story! You’re supposed to get with one of the cool SSR characters?! The NPC character isn’t a part of the romance list!

Nearly collapses onto the floor in complete happiness and confusion. He’s not complaining, not at all! However, he does begin to question your taste in men.

Ortho is now rushing to his brother’s room. The levels of heat are getting dangerously high and he is panicking. He knows his brother can get random bursts of excitement, but never to this extent!

[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn��t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

[bakersstreetirregulars]

BRAVER TOGETHER! CRK x BTS Collaboration

🌰 We’re all ready and good to go!

☁️ We’re live in 5… 4… 3… 2… camera… SHOWTIME!!!

⚙️ HELLO EVERYONE!!! I’m Strawberry Crepe Cookie, your higher-than-intelligent magichanical genius and your host for the Baker’s Street Newsblog’s coverage of the BTS Cookies in the Cookie Kingdom! I’m joined here by my co-host and original personality of the blog since day one, the one and only Chestnut Cookie!

🌰 Wow! This is really happening! And it’s going for almost a hundred days too, all the way through January 19th, 2023!

⚙️ Behind his smart-cloud camera of another kingdom, he’s filmed top-tier go-kart races, fights in outer space, every kind of major sport in the world, and he’s our Editor’s assistant and representative. Please welcome to the Blog… Lemon-Lime Meringue Cookie ☁️!

☁️ Hiya everyone! It’s such an awesome experience being here filming for the BTS Cookies AND the Baker’s Street Newsblog with my first friend in this kingdom since I moved in! I’m just a tad camera shy… but I’ll be there for the new and improved photo-op of our cast and Board of Directors! I’ll be your turtle’s cloud’s eye view of the concert from start to finish, no Spiny strings attached! Now let’s go down to the Cookie Bowl Concert Hall where we’ll see Jin Cookie show us how to rock the stadium!

But first, you’ll need Concert Tickets to do anything in the event, at about 15 Tickets per concert song. As of now, “Dynamite” and “Permission to Dance” are available to play from the get-go for rankings, but I’m sure more songs will rotate in later into the event.

⚙️ You see those ARMY Bombs? Those will add to your score and double as a special resource to pull from a special Crossover Gacha. Use the arrow buttons to switch lanes and collect them, as well as other jellies and gold coins worth 5 coins each after the song ends. The more items you collect, the higher your combo!

🌰 Just like in Ovenbreak, use the Jump and Slide buttons to collect more jellies and dodge obstacles! Collisions will lower your Energy further and further. Collide too many times, and the game’s over!

☁️ Once you make it to the stage, it’s showtime! Get those rhythm gaming skills (or lack thereof) at the ready and click the notes as they align with the outlines for even more points! If the note is attached to a line, hold down the note and release it when another note on the other side of the line crosses the outline for multiple notes!

If you collide with an obstacle or miss a note, you’ll lose your combo and you’ll have to start all over again.

Once you’ve finished the song, you’ll get a score and rank depending on how you did! Get an A or an S rank and you’ll unlock a higher difficulty level for a chance to get even MORE rewards! If you’re feeling extra funky and happen to be short on time to not do more than one attempt, then try cashing in multiple Concert Ticket entries before you start to multiply your repeat winnings! Although you could buy more if you wanted to, you can get one back for free every 20 minutes to a limit of 100 before they stop refilling.

BTS Crossover Gacha

⚙️ You’ll need ARMY Bombs to pull from the gacha and have the chance to meet the BTS Special Cookies, find their soulstones, unlock their Special Costumes, and even get special decorations that produce even more ARMY Bombs during the event! Certain decorations were designed during the “Tales of the BANGTAN Kingdom” videos on the CRK CookieTube channel, so definitely look at those for context for how each member of BTS designed them!

🌰 The special decorations even play BTS music through September 2023 when highlighted! Each pull also collects mileage points that can be redeemed at a special BTS Mileage Shop for the Costumes, Soulstones, and any decoration in the collab event! Meet all seven BTS Cookies to unlock an extra item heading full of useful stuff!

(The lights go out)

⚙️ WHAT THE-?!

💀 HEHEHEHEHEHE…! The B.A.D 4 awaits…!

[todoscript]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞?

anonymous requested: Can I request Angst Prompt 11 with Izuku saying that to the reader? Hopefully, it has a fluff ending. But if looking at the prompt makes you have another great idea with Izuku then please do write it that way if you want. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it this long. And I adore your work! Take care

prompt for milestone event: “Can you shut up for once in your life?” genre: angst with a bit of fluff at the end pairing: midoriya izuku x fem!reader word count: 1.4k+ warnings: small mention of possible cheating.

author’s note: You too, Anon, take care! I hope I wrote this request to your liking! And a thank you to @lovelusional​ and @add-a-teaspoon-of-heroism​ for betaing this for me really quick, you guys are great!

“I’m home…”

Midoriya calls out with fatigue in his steps as he halfheartedly closes the front door of his apartment. Every muscle of his aches down to his bones from after another long day of hero work. Today especially so, as the rampant villain he fought in the city earlier took the combined efforts of multiple Pro Heroes in the area to take down.

“Ah, welcome back!” you reply. Midoriya hears the distance between your voices and realizes you must be in the kitchen. Carrying his heavy body across his apartment, he finds his way to the living room, eyes locked onto the couch that’s calling his name. Unlatching the padded gloves and the other weighty equipment of his hero costume, he lets them hit the floor with a thud before he takes a seat. He releases an arduous sigh while allowing his tension to sink into the comfortable cushions.

Just as he expects, you pad into the living room from the kitchen. Midoriya watches with discerning eyes as you dry your washed hands against the orange and black apron wrapped around your waist, lined with green on the edges.

Another one.

It’s Ground Zero merchandise he has no recollection of you owning, so it must be new.

At the last second, he contains the grimace his face itches to convey from where he sits on the couch. He masks it with a stiff smile he can’t tell is due to his fatigue, or the exasperated notion that his girlfriend has been repping his rival’s merch for the past couple of months now.

“I saw the whole battle on TV! Boy, it was a tough fight, but it’s a good thing Baku— I mean, Ground Zero, came and helped you out!” you say, rubbing your hands on Midoriya’s tense shoulders that only grow tenser hearing Bakugou’s hero name uttered from your lips.

“Yeah… Right…” Midoriya mutters through the grit between his teeth. Bakugou had arrived on the scene a couple moments later while Midoriya was going toe to toe with the villain, explosively making his entrance with that quirk of his. He practically shifted the entire momentum of the battle, and in turn, took your attention with him as you watched the full coverage live on the news at home.

“I mean, he was amazing! You saw the way he came and blasted that villain, right? I mean, of course you did, you were there, but still it was—”

There you go again, babbling about Bakugou Katsuki of all people—the current Number Two hero by the name of Ground Zero that was taking Japan by storm and aiming to snatch Midoriya’s Number One spot from under him. You’d think, after being together for over four years now, his girlfriend wouldn’t be droning so incessantly about his rival. But after seeing you buy the blonde’s merchandise and watch all of his battles on TV, Midoriya grew apprehensive.

Ever since Bakugou’s debut into the scene as a full-fledged Pro Hero, and meeting the man in-person one time on an outing with Midoriya, you’ve been an avid fan of Ground Zero for many months now. Always prattling on about Bakugou this, Ground Zero that. Midoriya can’t even mention his hero lifestyle to you without you jumping into the conversation with GZ coming out of your mouth. 

He admires the man just as much as you do, maybe even a bit more at one point in his life. His strength and tenacity as a Pro Hero were something worthy of praise, and Midoriya always looked to him as his drive and inspiration to work harder, and only aim for the best. Bakugou is his longtime rival, after all. However, when is it too much?

“—Ground Zero was absolutely incredible! His attacks were so sharp and powerful, he had the villain on the ropes—”

Your droning becomes background noise to him at this point.

Midoriya comes home to you today with an exhausted body and weary mind, and yet, all you can care to acknowledge at the moment are Bakugou’s feats from the fight earlier. What about him? He’s the Number One Pro Hero—your boyfriend—but you’re not even sharing as much of an ounce of the same enthusiasm you have for the blonde toward him.

In fact, he can’t even tell if your admiration is idolization or infatuation.

Which was another thing.

With all this going on… do you truly love him? Was there a possibility that Bakugou and you might be holding feelings for each other? It feels like at this rate, if given a chance, you might just turn tail and run straight into Ground Zero’s arms. Or maybe, something was already going on behind his back—

No. No, he can’t think like that. Can’t let such deprived thoughts cloud his judgment and start accusing you of something you haven’t done. You’re his girlfriend of four years. He should know better than to doubt and weigh his trust in you.

But at the endless jargon that blubbers from your mouth, tension continues to accumulate throughout his body until it boils into anger. His hands clench together into tight fists, and then all at once, that string of restraint in him snaps. Midoriya yells out something he wishes never left his mouth.

“God, can you shut up for once in your life?!”

He whips his head to you as the words echo into silence throughout the apartment. Your hands immediately retract from his body, and when Midoriya’s eyes find you, all he can pinpoint is the unfamiliar panic that floods your face.

You’ve never seen him act this way before. He was always caring, kind, and soft with you, treating you gently and never one to lash out, even when you two got into occasional fights. But in the face of his astonishing anger, you teeter on the balls of your feet with wide, bewildered eyes directed toward him.

“I-Izuku..?” you hesitantly call to him, voice shaky like a frightened animal.

At that moment, Midoriya regrets what he said, and the taut, narrowed brows wrinkling his skin soften.

“Oh, god, no. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes and gathers you in his arms, rubbing circles into your back that calms your body. The small trembles in you begin to still at his familiar warm touches, and you let his arms fully wrap themselves around you.

“I-I didn’t mean to lash out at you. No, I never wanted to do that, it was just—”

“Bakugou… right?” You finish and move your head from Midoriya’s chest, searching out his eyes. The uneasiness hidden within confirms your answer. You cup your boyfriend’s face in your hands, thumbs brushing against his freckled cheeks.

“’Zuku… I should be the one apologizing. You came home all tired from a hard day of work, but I’ve been so oblivious to your feelings lately,” you say, tip-toeing so your lips reach the corner of his own.

“Besides, you’re my boyfriend… What kind of girlfriend am I to wear merchandise under another man’s name? Ah, no, tell you what I’ll throw everything out tomorr—”

“No, you don’t have to do that!” Midoriya interjects, to your surprise. “It’s fine, I understand you admire Kacchan as a fan. It’s just… I kinda wish you showed as much enthusiasm with me as you do with him…” he admits to you wearily, eyes downcast.

Your hold on his face tightens at his words. You lift him so his eyes meet yours once again, making sure he can’t avert them from your steady gaze.

“’Zuku, I could never love anyone else other than you. You’ll always have my support because you’re my man and my number one, alright? And starting from here, I’ll make sure you know this fact every day for the rest of your life,” you assure him, unwavering throughout every word.

At this, Midoriya’s eyes begin to shimmer. Before a tear could quiver down his cheek, he weaves his hand through your hair and brings your lips to his own. You embrace the kiss with as much passion as your smaller body could give him, arms latching to his neck to tug him down and deepen the lip-lock.

When you two finally part with ragged breaths, you press your foreheads together, staring into each other with only pure love and tenderness between you two.

“I love you, ’Zuku.”

“I love you too, Y/n. So, so much.”

[emotionalgirl101]

Zone II | Changbin

Scenario; now a mini series Pairing: Changbin x reader Summary: You decide to wash off the past half an hour and take some time for yourself. Yeah no, that’s not gonna go to plan. Warning: Soft dom!Changbin, shower sex, slight praise kink, slight arm/muscle kink, oral (m receiving), fingering, slightly rough, aftercare fluff at the end - Smut 16+

A/n: Part 1 here - thank you all for 500+ notes and for being so patient with me for getting the next part up! Chan is up next but I have a few other fics in the works so it might be a little while. I love you! (listened to Aphrodite by RINI) Words: 2,668

Well… that was fun. You closed the door once Chan had left. You didn’t bother locking it. Chan and Changbin both knew you were in the bathroom and weren’t the type to barge in anyway. You didn’t worry about Jisung since the boy had practically bolted out the door when he saw you. You stripped down, grateful for the fresh clothes from Changbin. Flashes of what had happened moments prior flooded your mind as if being saved in your memory. They played out like a highlight reel, interrupted only when you noticed his masterpiece in the mirror. Your collarbones were painted black and blue but you weren’t complaining. They would be easy enough to hide until they healed, and oddly enough you liked the feeling. You weren’t necessarily someone who wanted to be claimed but you liked the idea that he wanted you to be his, even if it was only for one night. That’s when the soft smile that had crept onto your face fell. Shit. What was going to happen now? In the heat of the moment you hadn’t quite had the time to contemplate whether or not it was a good idea to sleep with Changbin or what the aftermath of the whole situation would be. Chan’s reaction seemed like he thought it was inevitable. Maybe it was. You never really considered whether or not either of you were in the friend zone, which now seems like a clear indicator that, in fact, neither of you had been. It had naturally progressed to this point. It’s too late to go back now anyway. The line had been crossed and now you had to figure out where you would go from here. Would you go back to normal? Like it never happened? Was this the start of a relationship or was some kind of dating phase supposed to follow this? All you knew was that you didn’t want Changbin to walk out of your life after this. That, and that friends with benefits would only end with one or both of you hurt. You finally realised you’d been staring into space for awhile now and your body had formed goosebumps upon your skin. Standing around naked wasn’t going to help with anything, so you turned on the shower and put on some music to drown out your thoughts; just loud enough so you could hear it over the stream of hot water you were stepping into. You let the water wash the embarrassment away, revelling in the pleasure you felt not too long before. So what that he was your friend? So what you crossed a line? If movies taught you anything, being awkward about it would just make things worse. Just enjoy the moment and let things happen naturally- You felt a slight chill replaced by warmth. The glass door had been shut again. A pair of arms wrap around you. You unconsciously smiled as his lips pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before resting his chin on top. You felt yourself relax into him and ignore the thought that surfaced; you could get used to this. His voice broke through the background noise that the water and music created. “You didn’t lock the door.” His sounded sleepy and relaxed. Maybe he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Having you in his arms- you couldn’t afford to think like that. Stop. “The only people home knew I was in the shower. Didn’t feel the need to.” You hummed and felt him slightly nod. He began to shift his body weight from one foot to the other. You were swaying gently, the coverage of the water moving up your body and back down again. You closed your eyes, feeling soothed by the momentum. Up and back, up and back. You were like this for awhile. Changbin hummed among to the music playing from your phone and you relaxed into his hold even more. The whole moment was calming and this time you didn’t push away the thought that you could stay like this forever. You were content, listening to the melody falling from his lips and the feeling of his thumb rubbing comfortingly against your skin. It was perfect. Then the song changed. The song that came on had a strong base and sensual vibe, unintentionally changing the atmosphere around you. Soon enough, Changbin’s lips were dragging across your skin again. The contacted slowly began to melt you, more so when he began to kiss your shoulders and the base of your neck. Then something clicked. There was a way to get your answer. To figure out what you wanted from this. What you wanted to happen. You turned around slowly and held his face in your hands. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist. His eyes never left yours. You just stood like that for awhile, letting your gaze fall once or twice lower, to his lips. He closed his eyes and you followed suit. The kiss was much like the first of the night, as was the next few that followed. He was soft and warm, gentle and sweet, enjoying the feeling of your lips against his. His lips were just as plush as the looked, molding perfectly to yours. You broke part for a few seconds to catch your breath, foreheads testing against one another. He made the first move again, moving his hand to the back of your head and reconnecting his lips to yours. It felt right, as he deepened the kiss. Your hands slowly fell, resting near the base of his neck as you let him take the lead. It didn’t take long for him to act on the building tension. His hand left the base of your neck and snaked down below. The circling of his finger on your clit making you hum, growing into a soft moan when he plunged it into your core. He slowly pumped in and out, locking lips to swallow your moans. Chan was still nearby and you could do without him hearing this time around. You began to feel your high build, biting your swollen lips. Changbin did the same to maintain the effort of his fingers once he began drilling into you. You cling onto his shoulders for dear life. He was doing anything but slowing down. He lifted one of your legs with his free arm, the muscle visibly flexing. The new angle allowed him to add an extra finger. You had no chance of staying silent now. You pulled back only for a second to look him in the eyes. He was beautiful in this moment. His orbs were glazed over with pure lust. The water running over his torso made him glisten. His damp hair drenched by the glow of water from above. He held you tightly in his grip, keeping you in place as he strived to bring you to your high. You would remember him like this. The concentration and passion consuming him, his sole focus on you. He stole a kiss to keep you quiet while he moved within you. In another timeline, you imagine this would be the moment you fell in love. Not to long after, you were broken out of this trance. Your body reacting to the feeling of his thumb being added to your clit again brought you back to reality. Your mind was now instead clouded by the euphoric feeling. You could feel your high approaching. You looked back at Changbin to see he was now looking straight back at you. He was drinking in the sight of you, a mess under his control. You were having trouble staying quiet, about to give up when his lips reconnected with yours for a second time. A strange feeling you couldn’t place was bubbling within and sent you ever the edge. You became hyper aware of your surroundings. The feeling of the warm water on your body and how it was nowhere near as warm as his skin. His fingers were still inside you, helping you ride out your high as he continued to kiss you. You relaxed into him as the feeling faded. The warmth he provided remained. He gently placed your leg to the ground, slightly afraid when you immediately fell to your knees. You looked up at him with a flirtatious smile as your hands trailed up his legs. He finally caught on to what you had in mind. You reached his member and took it in your mouth. You swallowed around his head, moving further down, with the excess in your hand, flickering your eyes back to his as you pulled back. He was barely able to look at you through his lashes. The pleasure your mouth brought was consuming him, his breath growing heavy. As you moved closer, your tongue zigzagged along his under side. He couldn't hold his own anymore. He was weak for you, the power you had over him proving too much. He knitted his fingers in your hair, holding himself up with his other hand against the wall. His groans were low and airy, just enjoying your movements. The new sense of confidence and power his current demeanour gave you only encouraged the need to make him cum. It made you feel good, like he was only like this for you. You weren’t sure if that was true but the look on his face was enough to doubt anything on the contrary. Right now, only you could make him feel this way. At this point in time, it was just the two of you. You were the only two people in the world.

You pulled back and suckled on the head. He hissed and looked at you again, a smile playing on his lips quickly interrupted by a moan as you swiftly moved back down his shaft. You did this a few more times before you decided you wanted to tip him over the edge. Your other hand came up from the cold tiles to cup his balls. He hissed again, this time a reaction to the contrast of your cold hands. You massaged them a little, still taking him almost fully, looking up at him through your lashes. The look on his face was pure insanity and ecstasy. He was losing it, all because of you. You liked that. This time you had the upper hand. Then, as you so painfully slowly pulled back, letting your tongue dance along the underside of his shaft, you saw it. It was a flicker and it was hot as hell. You saw the moment he snapped. His hand suddenly gain strengthen and pushed you down unto him again. You gaged when you hit the base of his cock, his full length roughly hitting the back of your throat. The grunt that escaped his lips was full of lust. His eyes found yours and he quickly began fucking your mouth. He barely let you breathe as he slammed into you at an inhumane pace. His enjoyment of shoving himself halfway down your throat was more than clear, more so when you clung to his legs for stability. You wanted him to come, even if it meant you’d have a sore throat the next morning. You began to become desensitised to the feeling, focusing on the hot water that hit your skin, creating streams as it ran down your body. You were brought back into the moment when the dirty talk came into play. “How does it feel baby? You like my cock in your mouth? You like the feel of me half way down your throat, huh? Your pretty little mouth looks so good from here.” You felt yourself get wet again at the words. You were grateful for the hot water being there to soothe you. He liked the power play, too. “You want to taste my cum, baby? You’ve been such a good girl.” You moaned around him at the praise, feeling his cock twitch at the sensation. 

“You feel so good, baby. Fuck.” His praised spurred you on, moaning around him, again.

“Fuck, I’m— oh fuck” you had him speechless. You knew he was letting you know he was close. You couldn’t wait to taste him. You never usually felt this way, especially when it came to swallowing. It seemed like Seo Changbin was an exception to many things in your life, but were you complaining? Soon after, your mouth was painted white. You let him have a few more messy pumps down your throat before you moved up and off his shaft. Your lips gathering every last drop of his cum. You opened your mouth so he could see before you swallowed, showing him again to prove how much of a good girl you were. “Fuck, that’s so hot.” He muttered. He helped you back onto your feet, taking your chin between his fingers as he shared a long, passionate kiss with you. This one felt different. There was more emotion. Genuine feeling. It wasn’t a ‘thank you’ or sexually driven in any way. It just felt good. When the kiss broke, he looked at you a little longer than usual, moving the hair stuck to your face back into place before taking you in his arms. You rested their for awhile, the two of you gently swaying under the warm water again, content in one another’s embrace. Fuck. You weren’t falling for him, right?... After awhile, the water was turned off. A towel was placed around your shoulders. A kiss was pressed to your forehead. You dried yourself off and changed into the clothes Changbin had given you a little while ago. Changbin had left you to your own devices. It was kind of cute that he wanted to respect your privacy despite already seeing you naked twice in one night. He really was a sweet and genuine guy. He made you laugh, feel safe, feel like you could be yourself. Maybe your friendship turning into something more wasn’t such a bad thing. You went back to his room to find he had already packed everything up for the night. You didn’t miss that he turned over the sheets on the side of bed he didn’t sleep on. “Am I staying the night?” He was over by his dresser, fiddling with his phone which he almost dropped once he realised he was no longer alone. You smiled as he quickly recovered it, turning to look at you as he choked out “only if you want to” followed by “I-I’d like you to stay.” That was all you needed. You crawled into bed, taking a sip of the fresh glass of water he had thoughtfully put out for you. His smile was wider than a Cheshire Cat as he got in beside you. A small amount of meaningless small talk was made as you both laid down and pulled up the covers. He told you there was no word from your tutor, so you were better to stop work for the night. You heard the front door open and a lot of loud chatter fill the apartment just as he turn the lights out. Changbin giggled beside you. “What?” You whispered. “Nothing,” he replied, “Just that I’d told them we’d be working all night. Turns out it we ended up working on something else...” You hit his hand that was securely around your waist in a playful matter, giggling along with him. “They’ll be surprised to see me tomorrow morning.” “We can just tell them we pulled an all nighter, if you... or we could actually do it.” You knew exactly what he was insinuating with that tone of voice. Two rounds was enough, thank you, and you were quite exhausted. You just giggled at his playful remark. You naturally melted into him as you began to lose consciousness. The last thing you felt was a kiss being pressed against your shoulder followed by a whispered ‘good night’. 

[asunshinepuff]

 Secrets of the Darkened Seas

🧜🏻‍♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter one! This has been a long time coming and I apologize for the wait. Please give a follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @ladynightmare913 ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help!

This chapter features one of my own ocs, and I really hope you like him! As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however it will be explained over time so no worries. There’s no mention of lore for right now.

The Included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. I will not take credit for it’s writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out! 

Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy! 🧜🏻‍♀️

.

Chapter 1: The Tail of Fates

The gulls glided across the scorching sky, the sun beating down on the portmen docking the ships that traveled across the sea. The merry drunken men who stumbled their way out of the taverns filled with jolly music made their way to the docks. Wincing at the harsh rays of sunlight, the sweltering heat and humidity offers no reprieve for the men who indulged in the advantages of liquid courage to disregard their tasks. Merchants bring in goods from the islands that seemed worlds away to a mere boy at the age of fourteen.

The boy had medium-length tawny brown hair, tanned skin from days working out in the sun, and very bright amber-colored eyes which seemed to capture the same essence of the crystalized equivalents of the color. Dressed in a rather modest attire appropriate for his status - consisting of a white long-sleeved shirt, the sleeves were rolled up due to the heat, light brown slacks, and dark brown boots. Around his waist was a light blue scarf, supposedly what he had been found swaddled in when he was just a babe. He could never find the strength to part with it. The guilt overpowered him. 

“The beauties of the islands lads, best three days of me life mate.”

“Three days of only looking at the dames.” The sailor snorts a retort as he leans against a pillar on the dock. “They probably ran off in the other direction just at the mere sight of your pathetic self.”

The group of three jolly sailors laughed in merriment as the sailor who was sharing his tale shoved the other two in embarrassment.   

The boy had been sweeping the dock nearby the sailors, rolling his eyes at the stories. It was always the same. Seamen making port and bedding the beauties from the mysterious island that he himself has never traversed. Internally, he began counting the seconds till one of the sailors again made mentions of the maidens of the sea, and as always- it took only a count of ten. 

“I wager the beauties on that port can’t hold a candle to their maidens of the sea.” A sailor with three scars slashed across his face grinned. 

“Oh not this, again,” The first sailor, with a fancy for the beauties, with tattered clothes and blonde hair groaned. “Bloody hell mate, you say that cursed tale every time. The women of the sea, with a fishes tail.” 

“Aye, and you’d best heed it.” The sailor with three scars eyes his mates in suspicion. “Lest you never return to land, drowned like a dog and fed to the fishes.”    

“No one has seen those monsters for centuries mate. Let it go. It’s nothing but stories to scare sailors, nothing more.” 

“No!” The sailor yells. “I’ve seen them! The war didn’t wipe them out. They were the ones who scarred me face! There ain’t anything like it, to hear the songs of those maidens. You try to pull away, to drown it out with your thoughts, but ya can’t. There is no escape, it invades your minds, pulling you to the sea and into their webbed claws!” He grumbles out as he touches his scarred face tenderly. As if the scars were fresh, open with fresh blood spilling. 

“You lads wouldn’t stand a chance, I should be at the bottom of the sea, but these maidens be fickle things, they are.” He looks out to the sea, calm waves kissing the shore. “To see one, changes your fate. To hear one’s song, is your doom.” 

The boy paused momentarily as he heard the scarred sailor's warning. His thoughts race across his mind before he returns to the present when he’s called. 

“Oi boy!” A man from upon the ship called down, leaning overboard. “Come up here lad! There’s a job I need ye to take care of!”

The boy looked up to the adult man, he couldn’t discern fully from this far away the man’s appearance. The high rays of the sun give the wooden docks a shadow of coverage. He was rather reluctant to leave the cool reprieve, however, it would be worse if he neglected his duties of the port, “Be right there.” 

Walking upon the loading dock to the deck of the rather large ship, it was difficult to fight the urge to look around in a strange awe, even though it’s appearance is rather haggard and beaten. Although he has spent many a day upon ships for moments at a time since beginning his work a few years back, there was a certain mystery behind each ship that entered the ports of this bustling town. Each ship held a story behind its experiences. Each cannon battle, the waters of the seven seas it has traversed, the storms it has survived possible destruction, treasures it has held and lead its captain’s to discover. 

“Yes sir?” The boy looks up to the bulk of an angry looking man whose face always seemed to have a sneer. Even in his sleep. The bulk of a man was dressed in a shirt that looked two sizes too small, and a tattered grey coat that squeezed the man, fitting his frame with strain as his arms were always pulled back. His pants were faded from black to grey, his boots were old and worn. Smelling like a dead rat. His teeth were ghastly to gaze upon, yellow with brown stains, his breath could probably kill a man. His eyes were a beady black like the sharks that swam in the shallow waters, a bald head with black spots. A pity, he must’ve looked worse as a child. As most children do. He glowers at the scrawny boy before he looks away.

“Go search the taverns for this ships’ Captain. We leave at dusk. Blokes probably drunk beyond hell, feeling up the women.” He shakes his head as he waves the boy off with a mere wave of his hand. 

With a nod in confirmation, the boy exited the deck and headed off in search of the tavern so that he may find the Captain of the ship, rather grateful to being away from the rather disgusting first mate. If that bulk of a man looked that haggard, he could only imagine the Captain with a shudder at the thought. In the distance, he could see another ship that seemed to be a practical stark contrast. The masts that were open, were as white as the very clouds that floated in the sky, the wooden haul was a rich brown mahogany, the railings were painted gold like the sun. The sailors looked well-groomed, their clothes neat and fitted to their frames. 

The boy searched from tavern to tavern, until finally, he came across the Buccaneers' Oyster. With a sigh of exasperation, he opens the doors and enters the busy tavern hoping that this time he had finally found the correct one. The tavern was dark with dim lighting from the candles that were scattered about the establishment. The windows were the only source of natural sunlight that seeped into the tavern that reeked of alcohol and vomit. The sounds of clinking glassware and cheers from sailors echo all around, the soft giggling of women sitting on the laps of the drunkest of seamen. Ignoring the commotion, and his disgust at the reeking smells, he makes his way to the main counter where a man was the barkeep. The wall behind was lined with large kegs and the shelves were lined with clean pints.

“Excuse me. Do you happen to know if Captain Barclay is here?” The boy says, raising his voice over the loud cheering of the sailors in their merriment. The barkeeper doesn’t even spare the boy a glance as he simply points to the back of the tavern where a man was sitting, well more falling off his chair than anything, as he smiled stupidly at a lady. 

The captain in question was a tall lanky man with a hooked nose, horrible teeth, a large mole on the side of his neck, tanned skin, and green eyes. His clothes were an absolute mess which could possibly be vomit, or mashed potatoes. The boy was very much hoping for the latter. A white shirt with a red stain, rum possibly, short brown pants, and his shoes seemed to have vanished. Hopefully, the shoes walked away themselves, saving what little dignity they had, and drowned themselves in the sea. The stench dying with them. Or the captain had lost his shoes in a gamble. That seemed more likely. 

Taking a deep breath in preparation, he makes his way over to the back of the tavern so that he could finally fetch the man and get out of this place. The man seemed practically worse close up, if that was even possible. “Excuse me? Captain Barclay?” He asks, hoping to gain the drunken Captain’s attention and draw it away from the woman. “I was asked to fetch you by your first mate. And bring you back to your ship.” 

The man makes a small noise of acknowledgment as he turns to look at the deck boy. His alcohol glazed eyes look over the small boy before he shrugs him off and turns the lady he had in his lanky finger. “Bugger off boy, the adults are talkin.’” His hand waves him off with the pint of rum that sloshed to the ground in his sluggish gestures. “Now where we?” 

“Please sir, let me go. I do not work here. I am merely looking for my fiancé.” A pale soft face young lady pulls her hand to try to free herself from the seaman. Her soft brown curls bouncing as she turns her head to the boy. Her hazel eyes lock eyes with his, her skin pale from her bold green dress. Help me she mouths. 

The boy’s eyes widen a small fraction, trying to figure out a way to help the woman out of her predicament. “Captain. I insist.” He repeats, his tone much more firm and without argument. 

With a sneer, the lanky captain looked to the boy before he points at the boy with his pint. Standing up, he was two heads taller than the boy. “Listen boy,” he stumbles closer, the pint in his hands dropping what little rum it had to the floor. “I spent six months at sea, I ain’t about to let a lass like this slip past me, now runoff. Before I beat you.”     

“You chose quite a profession that allows you to be at sea for months at a time, Captain.” He says, looking up at the man, “Guess there’s sacrifices to make now isn’t there? And if you actually listened with your ears rather than another part of your body, then you would understand that this lady has no interest in you. And is taken.”

“Why you little rat!” The man grips the boy's collar, forgetting the pint, dropping it to the floor, letting the lady go as he raises his fist. “I’m going to enjoy this.” 

“You’re really going to punch a child mate? How low can you get?” A voice interjects as a rather handsome young man walks over. The tall young man, around the age of twenty-one, had short tousled red-brown hair, fetching blue eyes, and light tanned skin. Dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt with a light brown vest on top, a burgundy red long buckled coat with bright red accents, dark brown slacks, and black boots. On his left hip, a wide looking sword was sheathed in solid black and red with gold accents. 

“Who the bloody hell are you? Bugger off!” 

“No one of consequence. Just let him go.”

“Why the hell would I do that, a good beaten ought to teach about being respectful to his elders!” He looks away and aims for a punch.

The man scoffs, “As if you’re worth giving respect. The boy was just doing his job.” He steps forward and grabs the man’s fist in a hard grip as it nears the boy. “If you want respect, then earn it.” 

“Why you!” The man drops the boy and turns to punch the man who stopped him from giving the boy a lesson.

The man can’t help but roll his eyes with a sigh, “Oh for Heaven’s sake.” The drunk captain isn’t even able to reach him before he retaliates with a punch of his own, knocking the captain out cold. A satisfied grin falls upon his lips. The lady gasps before she quickly runs off after giving the man a quick thank you. The man turns to the boy. 

“Are you alright there boy?” 

The boy nods, looking up to the taller man who intervened. Why did he? He cannot help but wonder. Most people would've just ignored the ruckus and not bat an eye. “I’m alright. Thank you, Mr…” 

“Sandoval, Quinn Sandoval. But please just call me Quinn.” He smiles down at the boy. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you boy now can I?” 

“No, I suppose not.” He replies with a light chuckle, “My name’s Remus. Remus Lupin. It’s nice to meet you, Quinn.”

“Well, Remus, it’s nice to meet you as well.” He looks down to the unconscious captain with an exasperated sigh, lightly kicking his leg. “Best take him back to his ship eh?” He looks at Remus with mirth in his eyes before he walks over to the captain’s head, grabbing ahold one of his arms before pulling him up. “Grab his other arm will you? Let’s take him back to his ship. Although I doubt he will be useful.”  

Remus nods quickly before he walks over to the other side, grabbing ahold of the other arm to help hold him up. “Doubt he will as well, to be frank.”

The pair carry the dunkard back to the docks without much strain. Aside from the occasional bump to the head. They walk up to the ship where the first mate sees them approaching, walking down the loading dock.

“What the bloody hell happened to him? I have been waitin’ here for hours boy!” The bulky man marches to Remus. His face red in anger. 

“Well rather difficult to track down a man with this many taverns in this town isn’t it?” Quinn says in defense, looking down to the unconscious man before continuing an explanation, “Your Captain got himself plastered and in a tavern fight. I had to help the boy carry him back.” He glances at Remus and gives him a conspiratorial wink.

The first mate begrudgingly orders two men from the crew to take the captain onboard. He looks to the boy with a scowl. “What are ye waitin’ for, get back to work!” 

Quinn frowns lightly as he looks to Remus. “You work the docks?” 

Remus fights the urge to flinch at the hard scowl under the first mate’s gaze. He looks to Quinn at his question before nodding. “I do.”

Quinn can only nod once slowly in understanding. He looks to the first mate, then to the docks, then to Remus before he smiles. “Well not anymore.” 

Remus’ eyes widen as he looks quizzically at the man he had just met. “What?” 

“What the bloody hell are you talkin’ about.” The first mate growls out.

Quinn ignores the man as he looks over the young boy. “Tell me honestly Remus, would you rather work the docks for men like him, or come with me to my captain’s ship and actually live your life without regrets.” He looks back to the docks and the wrecked ship the bulky man sent the drunk captain to dock. “I know what I’d chose. And it wouldn’t be a life with little to no rewards.” 

Remus looks out to the sea beyond the docked ships, watching the sun’s rays reflect upon the blue waking waters as he contemplates. This man hardly knows him, practically just met him about half an hour ago, and yet he’s offering him a chance to sail? A chance to leave this place? How can someone be this trusting? 

He looks back to Quinn with a skeptical look, “Why are you offering me this? You hardly know me. I could be a thief for all you know.” 

Quinn smiles. “Because I like you, you have wit and you clearly are a hard worker. I have a good feeling about you.” He looks to the sea. “So, what will it be, Remus? A life of servitude, or a life of freedom?” He looks back to Remus.

Remus cannot help but smile in return, “Freedom.” 

[imaginingsoftly]

Wedding Date Pt. 2 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, asshole exes

A/N: Hey guys! I know I said these installments were going to come out on Thursdays, but I feel like my fellow Americans currently losing their shit could use a distraction. Remember that it’s out of our hands at the moment, and you deserve to take a break from the news coverage. Breathe. We’ll get through this. I love you all.

Tyler hadn’t asked any questions about Melissa’s sudden disappearance from the brunch after she woke up grumpy and disoriented before the rehearsal dinner, and she appreciated the hell out of him for it. Instead, he’d brewed her some coffee and talked about his dogs and life in Dallas. Somehow he could tell that she needed some time to not think about anything significant, and he’d given that time to her like it was nothing. 

Attending the rehearsal on his arm was almost fun, and he helped get her back to the suite early. Most of the group probably thought they were breaking off to go hook up, but that was fine as long as Melissa could get into her bed faster. He’d walked her all the way to her bedroom, despite her laughter that she could walk across the living space by herself, and she’d smiled that night as she fell back to sleep. 

Now they were getting ready for their respective roles in the wedding, Tyler as a guest/ wrangler of the middle-aged relatives, Melissa as the Maid-of-Honor. Tyler grinned appreciatively as Melissa handed him a cup of freshly-brewed coffee, and she turned back to the french press to make herself a cup when her phone began to ring. It was probably Kirsten freaking out about something, even though the wedding was a good 8 hours away. “Tyler, could you get that for me?” He could handle his cousin just as well as she would have, and hearing Tyler answer Melissa’s phone might put Kirsten in a good mood. 

“Hello?” Tyler’s voice, gravelly from sleep, sent a shiver up Melissa’s spine. Hearing that first thing in the morning was something she would be interested in getting used to. She snuck a glance over at Tyler to see him already looking at her, smirking like he knew what was going through her head. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The familiar voice, dripping in attitude and disgust, sent another sort of shiver down Melissa’s spine. Her ex, and not the hipster beer guy. 

“What the hell do you want, Liam?” Tyler looked at Melissa confusedly as she spoke, and she shook her head. Later, she tried to tell him with her eyes. He understood, and Melissa took the outstretched phone. “I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a second Melissa thought that maybe Liam had hung up. “I can’t believe you’re hooking up with someone else. This won’t look good to my parents, Melissa. It’s time to come home. Stop throwing fits.” Tyler threw a sharp look at her, like he actually believed what Liam was saying, and Melissa had enough. 

“I am not your goddamn girlfriend, Liam, so stop acting like I am.” He tried to interrupt her, like he always did, but she cut him off. “No. I’m not fucking finished. I love my job, I love my friends, and I love my freedom. I’m not interested in being some rich fucker’s trophy wife and I’m definitely not interested in being yours. Leave me the fuck alone before I get a restraining order.” She hung up before he could get another word in, throwing her phone on the counter in anger. “Motherfucker!” 

The timer for the french press went off, and Melissa prepped her coffee with jerky, angry movements. She could sense Tyler staring at her from his seat on the counter, but she ignored him as she continued to mutter curses under her breath. She should have blocked his number a long time ago, but she didn’t trust him not to just get a new one in order to reach out to her. At least this way she had proof of his continued calls and texts in one spot. 

Tyler’s voice broke through Melissa’s cloud of anger, and she actually jumped a little bit at the sound of his voice. “Bad breakup?” Melissa scoffed. He had no idea. “Well,” Tyler said with a bit of a laugh in his voice, “I can tell you one thing.” He waited until she turned to face him, an eyebrow raised, before he continued. “I’d be honored to have you as my trophy wife.” No he did not. Melissa gaped at him, more shocked he had made a joke about the conversation than about the actual comment. 

She didn’t really think, she just reacted. Tyler laughed as Melissa’s coffee spoon came flying in his direction, and he caught the utensil with ease. Her heart felt light, lighter than it usually did after phone calls from Liam, and Melissa found herself smiling back. “Hipster beer guy wasn’t my most recent ex. He was actually a guy from college, so a while ago.” Tyler nodded, and she noticed that he leaned forward like he was interested in the story she was about to tell. “I dated Liam for about 6 months last year. We met at a dinner for the university that I work at, some charity thing where the donors get to come and make sure we know that they pay our salaries.” Tyler cringed, and Melissa was sure he at least kind of understood where she was coming from. 

“Liam didn’t seem like the other donors. He’d gone to the dinner in place of his parents, and we talked for a couple of hours. He seemed sweet.” She didn’t see the red flags that she normally would have, mostly because he looked so friendly. Apparently being raised by rich and heartless parents taught you some pretty impressive false empathy skills. She wasn’t wholly convinced he actually felt empathy at all, actually. “We started dating, and it just felt easy. We were both so busy that we hardly saw each other, and I told myself I liked that. I realized later that I didn’t like the distance from a partner, I just liked the distance from him.”

“One night like a week before we hit the 6 month mark Liam invited me to dinner with his parents. I hadn’t met them yet, because apparently they were super busy running their empire, so I was pretty nervous. Liam is a pretty driven guy, and I had assumed he got it from his parents. The dinner went wrong from the beginning.” Melissa paused as Tyler patted the space on the counter next to him. She hopped up gratefully, and he squeezed the shoulder closest to him. 

“Just wanted you to be comfy. I have a feeling this next part is going to be a doozy.” 

Melissa laughed at Tyler’s choice of phrasing, though she nodded because he was correct. It was a doozy for sure. “You have no idea. So we get there, and I’m immediately othered when everyone shows up in cocktail dresses and suits and I’m over there in my teaching pants and a blazer. His mother looked like she had just sucked on a lemon when I walked into the room, and she glared down at my hand when I introduced myself like I was going to give her some kind of disease.” That wasn’t even half of it. She’d also made some snide comments under her breath about where the clothing had come from, though Tyler didn’t really need to hear that detail. 

“We finally sat down for dinner after some of the most uncomfortable cocktail conversation I’ve ever had, and then I make a giant mistake. I mention my job.” Tyler reacts perfectly, throwing a hand over his heart and fake gasping. Melissa chuckled a bit. “Yeah, exactly. So his mom gets this horrified look on her face, and turns to Liam and says, ‘she will not be working once you’re engaged, correct?’ I tried to respectfully state that I love my job, and I planned on working for the foreseeable future, but she wouldn’t take that for an answer. She kept insisting that I couldn’t work if we were going to be together, and Liam wouldn’t back me up. At one point he turned to me and said, ‘you know, I make more in a day than you do in an entire month. I can take care of you.’”

Tyler’s face looked disgusted for her, and Melissa felt a twinge of satisfaction that at least he was on her side. “I lost my damn mind. I stood up from the table and said that if the expectation was that I would be a brainless trophy wife with no ambition or intelligence then I was uninterested in continuing our relationship, and I stormed out. I’ve been trying to get Liam to realize that no means no ever since.” Melissa downed the rest of her coffee, suddenly in need of at least three more cups. 

She was halfway through making a second cup when Tyler responded again. “Isn’t one of your areas of expertise gender and stuff?” Melissa whipped around, surprised he had remembered. She nodded, and Tyler let out a scoff. “So they were pushing some idea from the 50s on you when your area of study is literally everything against that?” Melissa laughed. At least someone else understood the irony there. 

A knock sounded on the door to the suite before Melissa could respond. Tyler jumped off the counter before she could move to the door, and she admired the view from behind as he walked away from her. “Morning, cousin!” Kirsten flew through the door, sliding across the room and into Melissa’s arms with a laugh. “I’m getting married today!” The pair laughed, and Melissa hugged her friend close as she felt some tears prick her eyes. They’d been through a lot together since their days as college roommates, and today felt almost surreal. 

Kirsten pulled back with a slight frown. “Why do you look like you want to punch something?” Melissa tried to school her face into one of confusion, but her friend knew her too well for that. “Don’t bullshit me. Why the hell do you look so pissed?” 

She didn’t get a chance to make something up. “Liam called her.” Melissa turned to glare at Tyler from where he was sitting on the counter again. “He was an ass, but she handled him really well. It was kinda hot actually.” He winked at Melissa, and she flushed bright red. He had that effect on her, and it was kind of aggravating. 

“He still seems to think we’re still dating. I told him a restraining order was in the cards if he didn’t kindly fuck off.” Kirsten held up a hand for a high five, and Melissa slapped it gratefully. She had stayed in Kirsten’s guest bedroom for almost a month after that breakup because Liam kept showing up at her apartment. He stayed away from the house because John was a hell of a lot bigger than him, and John and Kirsten had been lifesavers as she tried to get over their relationship ending. 

Kirsten looped an arm through Melissa’s and began pulling her out the door, despite the fact that the latter girl was barefoot. Melissa managed to snag a pair of flip flops on their way out, though she couldn’t get them on her feet. “Ty I’m stealing your girl for a bestie breakfast, try not to miss her too much!” Melissa stiffened at her words. Maybe they’d been acting too well. She looked over her shoulder to mouth an apology at Tyler, her face bright red, only to find him smirking in her direction already. They were still staring each other down when the door slammed shut behind her. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Lissy.” 

She couldn’t keep pretending like this. “Kirs, it’s not like that.” If she wasn’t careful, Kirsten would be planning her and Tyler’s wedding by the time the night was over. Kirsten meant well, she really did, but sometimes she really just needed to chill out. “We get along really well. We’ve had a lot of time to talk, and it’s been fun. That’s all.” It was obvious that Kirsten disagreed, but she relented as they reached the patio where the brunch had been held the day prior. 

The tables were no longer set up to make one giant table, like they had been the night before. Instead it was an open area where several groups were eating, none part of the wedding party. Kirsten pulled Melissa over to a table set up for two in one corner of the patio. It was next to the vine and flower-covered wall she’d noticed the day before, and she leaned in slightly to sniff at the flowers brightening the space. 

“So,” Kirsten said with an air of mischief, “you and my cousin.” Melissa opened her mouth to protest again, but her friend cut her off. “Uh-uh. Nope. I saw the looks he was giving you, and you turned bright red every time you two made eye contact.” She was right, and they both knew it. Kirsten looked smug when Melissa didn’t try to disagree. “Listen. You’re moving to Dallas in a month. Why not hook up with him? See if he’s worth keeping around, and then have some fun. You don’t have to do the whole relationship thing babe, and you deserve to have someone appreciate your body.” 

A server came to take their order, and Melissa gratefully ordered another cup of coffee and some pancakes. “I think you’re reading it all wrong, Kirs. He’s just being nice.” The looks that he kept giving her, full of heat and interest, said otherwise, but there was no way he was really interested in her outside of a hookup. Although, would that really be so bad? Kirsten scoffed at her statement, and Melissa jumped in before she could say anything. “I don’t know if I really want to hook up with anyone this weekend, Kirs. If it happens it happens, but I’m not going to push it.” 

Her friend shrugged, though her face said she completely disagreed. “Well if you aren’t going to let me find someone to match you with, at least tell me you found a place in Dallas.” Their food arrived, and Melissa took a happy bite of her pancakes. They smelled heavenly, and tasted even better. “You were going to buy a house, right?”

Melissa nodded. “Originally I had planned on a house, maybe just outside the city, but I fell in love with this townhouse right off of Main Street. It has three bedrooms, so right around the size I wanted, and there’s so much natural light. Plus, there’s a rooftop deck with a beautiful view of the city.” This place was going to be her new investment. She was fortunate enough to have gotten a lot of scholarships and grants to do her schooling with, and professorial pay allowed her to pay off those loans rather quickly. That meant that she could start saving for a down payment on her own place and a new start in Dallas. 

She took another bite of her pancakes while Kirsten contemplated what she was saying. “I’m really happy for you, Lissy. You deserve this.” They grinned at each other, and then Kristen broke down into giggles. “Look at us! You’re a badass in your field that got job offers from like half the universities in the country, and I’m marrying my soulmate. We’re killing this whole life thing.” Melissa chuckled as she nodded at her friend’s words. 

“It wasn’t half of the universities in the country, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” Kirsten waved a hand in a ‘whatever’ kind of way, and conversation moved to people-watching and bets over who would leave with whom tonight or how long it would take for John to tear up.