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theartofdreaming1 · 4 years ago

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Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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phantomwarrior12 · 5 years ago

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A Timely Rescue

Prompt: All of y’all insisting on another chapter xD

Word Count: 2,478

Summary: Sometimes hunters are the ones who need to be rescued.

A/N: Hey folks!

It’s here at last! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! Upon popular demand, here if chapter two of A Lonely World. I do apologize for the delay, y’all would not believe how crazy life has been since I released chapter one. And, since I wrote this one, I opened my dumbass to a whole ass series, so, y’all have that to look forward to! xD

So, feel free to leave a like/comment to let me know your thoughts! Without further adieu!

Enjoy!

~Phantom

A Time To Know Your Enemy (Ch. 3)

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The tip of biting steel traces along your skin, a whisper of fear over flesh as you stare with unwavering defiance into midnight.

This wasn't how the hunt was supposed to go. They weren't supposed to be here. This was supposed to be a vamp nest.

Your jaw sets as the blade draws blood and your features contort into a grimace, trying to conceal the searing fire that sings through your veins with an ill-timed, "That the best you got?" You're not prepared for the blade to delve deeper. You're not prepared for the tears to slip traitorously down your cheeks and provoke taunts from your tormentors.

"What was that, little hunter?"

"You gonna cry? We should find a spell that calls for the tears of a human and see just how many different techniques can bring a hunter to tears."

Spite and fury churn in a dangerous concoction in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere, there's a twinge of indignation. Somewhere, there's a building flame that ignites along your ribs and flares along your forearms. Somewhere, there's a nagging fragment that leaves you anxious and wondering if anyone is actually coming to your rescue.

The Winchesters don't know where you are. You're not sure if your prayers are reaching Castiel and there's no chance in heaven or hell that you're going to escape your bindings with two demons circling you.

Yet, despite the hopelessness tugging at your soul, somehow you know these demons are well and truly fucked.

At first, it's a blast of brilliant light that permeates every inch of the room, forcing your eyes shut and your face towards the floor. Then it's a deafening cacophony that splits the air in a high pitched whine that has you straining against your restraints in a desperate attempt to shield your ringing ears.

Somehow, through it all, you can hear the screams of your hell-spawned tormentors. You steal a glimpse of their collapsed frames, eyes burnt out and forms limp as the light and sound fades. As silence falls, you blink slowly, trying to clear the disorientation, barely registering footsteps off to your left. Hunter's instincts kick into overdrive and you're not sure if the newest arrival is better than the former company. You summon what strength you can, feebly wrenching your wrists against biting metal before you feel two fingers press tenderly against your temple and your frame eases beneath their touch. There's a faint whisper of something cool flourishing across your skin, a steady thrum of energy you swear you recognize from somewhere - somewhere celestial.

"Cas?" It's all you can manage in a feeble whisper, swiftly silenced by a violent scream that rips through your chest when the blade is pulled unceremoniously from your shoulder. And then it's gone. Wounds mend, bruises fade and the sharp ache in every muscle ebbs but your head feels heavy and your eyes beg to be closed. When you roll your head to the side, it isn't the tan trenchcoat of your angel friend, but rather dated leather and blue jeans. Confusion emerges victorious before your eyes sag shut and consciousness caves to exhaustion.

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

The next time you open your eyes, there's a soft breeze dancing through the curtains of your motel room, filtering sunlight streaming over sheets with each whisper of fresh air. The palms of your hands dig in, scrubbing at the sleepy daze over your eyes, willing it to disappear as you sit up on the ancient mattress with a series of squeaks and groans from the springs.

As your gaze shifts over the room you realize all is as you'd left it, a pristine order that suggested the previous evening's events hadn't happened. It's then that the memories come rushing back and you reach instinctively to check what should be a gaping hole in your shoulder.

"Rescued, right? Not Cas, he'd have stuck around," you murmur, swinging your feet onto the floor, fingers threading through disheveled hair, "Balthazar's still on the run...that leaves--" you lift your head, tugging the sleeve of your flannel up and stare at the patch of skin where the invisible sigil hums soothingly along frazzled nerves. Your fingers trace along the skin as your eyes squeeze shut, "Gabriel, I know what you are. I know you're there." You take an uncertain breath, a silencing anxious wave crashing over you. If the archangel is anything like his brother, he can sense it, but he doesn't come.

You wait a long moment before you summon the composure to speak, "Gabriel - I want to thank you...properly." Your eyes open and drift over the room, "Can you at least show yourself before you hit the road again? It's not every day an archangel comes to my rescue."

One. Two. Three minutes pass with utter silence, the only noticable trace of movement being the curtains.

Your shoulders sag, features falling with a dejected breath, "All right. Message received," you stand, moving over to your pack to retrieve a clean set of clothes, pausing only when you detect the unmistakable rustle of wings, "I didn't take you as the shy type, tough guy." You cast a glance over your shoulder, quirking an eyebrow.

"I like my dramatic entrances. Besides, I prefer the term cautious. Humans are unpredictable, and after Cassie let the cat out of the bag? Well, let's just say I'm not overly eager to have all of heaven on my tail any time soon by showing my mug once too often." Gabriel props himself against the bathroom doorframe.

"Then why come to my rescue?" Your head tilts as you turn, studying his blank features for any trace of the warmth they'd held the first night you'd met him, "Why the branding?"

"Is that a hint of disdain, sweetcheeks?" A cocky grin slides easily across soft lips, a mischievous glint flaring to life in alluring whiskey as they trail over your frame. You straighten up, fighting to maintain a detached expression despite the heat rising in your cheeks beneath his weighted gaze.

"Curiosity, at best. Enochian sigils seared into your skin is a little more drastic than getting a man's name tattooed on your arm after the first meeting. So, do I get to hear the story behind my new invisible ink?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Oh, I'm sure it ties in to that night at the bar, but why I earned such a rare branding is still a mystery. You brand every woman you meet?" There's a shadow of a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as your arms ease into a comfortable cross in front of your chest.

"What happened to that 'proper thank you' you promised me?"

"I need some answers first." You gesture to the bed expectantly.

"Bed? I like where this is going." he flashes you a wry grin and a wink that sparks a stutter in your heartbeat.

"Don't get your hopes up, smartass." You retort as you take a seat on the mattress, determined to remain composed. Though, despite your best efforts, you're failing spectacularly. Your only saving grace is that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice.

"I'm nothing but hope, sweetcheeks," he glides onto the mattress beside you, leaving very little space between the two of you.

He knows. There's no way he couldn't and yet, you can detect nothing more than light-hearted heckling in those glimmering flecks of honey and hazel. The same warmth you'd glimpsed that night in the bar all those months ago. He's different. Granted, he's an archangel and that, no doubt, is to be expected. Still - he's different in a way you can't quite describe. In a way that's there, and yet just out of reach as he reclines on the bed, propped up on an elbow with a broad grin.

"You gonna ask your questions, sweetcheeks? Or just admire the view?"

You're flustered. You're out of your depth and this is stupid. So, you fall back. You slide further onto the bed and cross your legs, squarely facing the archangel and the grin fades to something unidentifiable. You wouldn't call it affectionate or heated but - you don't know what you'd call it as you adjust your flannel and roll your sleeves back down.

"Depends. You going to give me straight answers this time?"

"I gave you straight answers then," he tilts his head just enough to seem all the more adorable. Of course, he probably intends to it to convey his truthful intentions, but the glimmer in those honeyed hues is damned distracting.

"You did," it's a reluctant concession, "but you weren't altogether forthcoming. You left some key information out in those answers."

Gabriel's lips tug upwards into an almost condescending smirk as a golden brow arches, "You're a hunter, sweetheart. You know better than anyone that your opening line shouldn't be monster-related. And given your history with angels," the smirk falters and with it, the playfulness of his voice, "You'd have been out of that barstool in two seconds flat."

You look down at your hands, almost ashamed. He was right, you would have run, regrouped with the Winchesters. But in your experience, archangels haven't been on the side of humanity, and based solely on that fact, you'd never have let him as close as he had been that night - not by your side and certainly not in your arms.

His voice draws your gaze back to his features, "But you knew something was up. The moment I sat next to you, you tensed - like you sensed something was off about me." He props himself up a little higher, honey flecks flickering over your features as if he were trying identify that piece of your soul that separates the human from the monster-hunter, "Didn't you?"

His question is more of a statement than an inquiry and you offer a solitary nod.

"But you didn't run. That hunter alarm had to be going nuts." He slides a little closer, reaching a seated position, "You've been around my baby brother long enough to sense that--" he pauses, reaching out and his hand hovers over your knee, "spark - that faint buzz on the edge of your senses that only comes around when something divine enters the room."

A shy smile slips across your lips at the tingling sensation along your knee and you dare to meet his gaze, "Even if I hadn't, your inability to keep your grace in check gave you away."

He chuckles lightly, "You seemed drunk enough, I figured I'd test just how much. I could see the confusion in your eyes, but you...let it slide. Why?" There's intrigue building in his eyes, determination drawing his brows together into a gentle line.

"I thought I was asking the questions," you deflect, ignoring the sudden weight of his hand on your knee through the thin layer of your sweatpants - though when you'd changed from jeans to sweats, you had no idea.

"Indulge me." His head tilts and the rapid flutter of your heart forces your gaze to the dwindling space between you.

"I've - sensed that buzz in a room when an angel enters. Sam and Dean don't understand it," your fingers wind around the string attached to your pants, weaving in and out and over and under to occupy the anxious thrum through your veins, "but I can also sense their intentions. Their hatred when they're looking for a fight. Their fear just before that blade falls. Their anxiety," y/e/c locks with honey, "when they stride up to a hunter in a crowded bar and attempt to make small talk because they're just as lonely." Your voice fades to a soft murmur, "Their relief when they realize they're safe, if only for a moment, in a loud room with a complete stranger. And their warmth when the walls falter," you lean in, holding inches from the archangel's lips, "and they can be what they are."

"And what are they?"

You could swear there's a twinge of fear in his voice, as if a being of his magnitude could be terrified of the next words to come from a mortal's lips.

"They're--"

I'm on the highway to hell! Highway to hell--

Your shoulders sag, your chin dropping to your chest as you lean past him to pick up your phone, "Hold that thought."

He smiles gently, watching you stand from the bed and pace a few short steps away and answer the phone.

"Dean?"

"Y/N! Thank God!" You can hear the relief in the eldest Winchester's voice, you can only imagine what his expression is, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine--"

"We've been trying to get ahold of you for hours. When you didn't check in last night, we got worried. What happened?" It's Sam's voice you detect next as you steal a glimpse over your shoulder at Gabriel who seems enthralled with a loose thread in your sheets.

"Wasn't a vamp nest," you lean against the dresser, watching the archangel absently, "It was a trap."

"A trap? A trap set by who?"

"I wish I knew. If--" you stop yourself as Gabriel lifts his head, concern flashing in whiskey as they lock with y/e/c.

"If what? Y/N, you still there?" Another twinge of fear in Dean's voice.

"I'm here. Uh," you rub the back of your neck, "If I hadn't brought my angel blade in, I'd have been screwed. I was jumped by two demons.

"How'd you escape?" Sam pries, no doubt exchanging a concerned look with Dean.

"Lucky, I guess. Everything's kind of a blur." Your fingers find their way to your temple as you begin to pace, taking your eyes off the archangel on your bed. "All I know is we'll need to have a chat with Crowley."

"Could be Abbadon, but we'll check it out all the same."

"Sounds like a plan." You turn, gaze falling to the empty bed and your heart sinks.

"Alright. Send us your location, we're on our way to you right now."

"Will do. See you in a couple hours." You hang up, hand falling to your side in defeated resignation. You drop the phone unceremoniously onto the bed and glance around the room, taking note of the brilliant red on your nightstand. You cautiously move around the bed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips as fingers curl around the singular rose he'd left in his wake, something Enochian inscribed into the ribbon wound elegantly around the green stem. You'll need Cas to translate, but you realize you never got to ask your questions. Part of you wonders if his disappearing act was a deliberate attempt at preventing it. Though, one thing was for certain - the archangel had no concept of manners.

Would it kill him to bid a proper farewell for once?

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Chapter 3

Taglists are open! Send me an ask/message to be added!

Gabriel Squad: @thewhiterabbit42 @erisunderthemoon @stuckoutsideofthebox @nuvoleincielo @lyselkatz @high-church-of-the-holy-dick @loch-ness-moron @lovelyhexbag @shaylybaby2032 @soul-bandom @archangelgabriellives @datajana @quixoticcat @jtownraindancer @hindustani-diaspora Forevers: @heaven-hell-imagines @currentlyfangirling99 @bofa-deans-nuts @emiwrites3reads

#gabriel x reader #gabriel spn #archangel gabriel #gabriel #spn #supernatural #phantom writes

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cakesunflower · 6 years ago

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Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 15

Chapter 15

LUKE WAS ALL sorts of pissed off; the kind that had his jaw aching from clenching it so hard and hands perpetually formed into fists to prevent himself from punching something. He was familiar with this type of anger, the one that stemmed from betrayal and hurt that skipped right past being upset and festered in the stage of something akin to hatred. Luke never thought he could truly hate someone, but not for the first time he was debating against that idea when it came to the two people he was thinking about.

“Just don’t go,” Ashton shrugged, looking at Luke as if he didn’t understand what the big deal was. “Then you won’t have to see them.”

Luke shot his friend an aggravated look. “It’s my nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, Ashton. I have to go.” If he didn’t love his grandmother so much, Luke would just spend the weekend on campus instead of going home to celebrate with his family—which included his cousin Max and Luke’s ex—and Max’s current—girlfriend Gwen. He was in no mood to see the two of them flaunt a relationship that was created at the expense of Luke’s heartbreak.

“Take someone with you as your date,” Michael suggested from where he sat at the kitchen counter, busy on his laptop as he did an assignment. He then glanced up, looking at Luke, who sat on the couch. “And by someone I mean Ophelia.”

Glancing at his friend, Luke furrowed his eyebrows at Michael’s proposition. Propping his right elbow on the armrest of the couch, Luke used his fingers to worry at his lower lip as he thought about the idea. It wasn’t a terrible idea to bring Ophelia to the party, but introducing her to his family seemed to be a bit too soon, especially since they only just figured things out to be together. He didn’t want to use her as a way of spiting Max and Gwen to show that he was fine after what happened. He didn’t miss Gwen, by any means, but he was still pissed. Still hurt.

Ophelia didn’t even know about Luke’s ex, Gwen, cheating on him with his own cousin and Luke didn’t want to just tell her so she would come with him just to show the two people that betrayed him that he was better off—even if he was. Luke wasn’t comfortable with using Ophelia in that type of way, but maybe if he told her then she wouldn’t be offended. She’d understand.

So that’s why Luke was now knocking on the apartment door next to his, smiling as the door swung open to reveal Laurel. He was glad to see she was okay after what happened at the party a few days ago, and the pain in his knuckles that had followed was worth it. “Hey,” he greeted the blonde. “Is Ophelia here?”

Laurel opened the door wider, nodding inside the apartment. “She’s in her room,” she chuckled, earning a thanks from Luke as he wandered in and heard Laurel shut the door behind him. He waved at Tanya, who was munching on a bag of Cheetos as she watched The Bachelor on TV, before wandering down the hall and stopping in front of Ophelia’s closed door.

He knocked twice, hearing her call out, “come in,” before opening the door and stepping inside the familiar bedroom. Luke saw Ophelia laying sideways on her bed, watching something on her laptop. When her eyes landed on Luke, she paused her show and sat up. “Hey,” she smiled, crossing her legs.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Luke greeted, shutting the door behind him. The blinds were open, sunlight streaming in and drenching the small plants on the windowsill. “You busy? Wanted to ask you something.”

Ophelia shook her head, tilting it to the side curiously. “What’s going on?”

The Australian sat down on the bed, sliding off his slippers to sit cross legged right in front of her. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. Ophelia was one of the sweetest people Luke knew, and if he explained himself he was sure she’d understand. “Okay, um,” he began, clearing his throat as fingers absently twirled one of his rings. “I have to go home this weekend for my grandma’s birthday and, uh.” He stopped briefly, but the encouraging raise of Ophelia’s eyebrows prompted him to continue, “my ex is gonna be there with my cousin and I was hoping you’d come with me because I just—I don’t wanna deal with them, y’know?”

Ophelia blinked at Luke, hazel eyes slightly widened in shock. Then, she blurted, “your ex is dating your cousin?”

Luke didn’t blame her expression as a humorless smile tilted at his lips. “Cheated on me with him, actually.”

This time her jaw dropped, completely taken aback. Honestly, she genuinely didn’t understand how or why someone would cheat on Luke. Other than him being confusing at times, Luke was a great guy to be around. It was no secret that Ophelia adored him; adored him as a person and was obsessed with the way he looked at, kissed, and touched her. To Ophelia, Luke was unfairly perfect, if she didn’t consider the mess it had been for the two of them to acknowledge their feelings—though she could be partly blamed for that too—so why someone would cheat on him was beyond her. Luke had Ophelia entranced by just his gaze, feeling excitedly powerless against him in the most enjoyable of ways, so leaving him for someone else sounded ridiculous.

She was also kind of flattered that Luke wanted her to come with him. The most they’d done was confess to each other that they wanted to be together—did that mean they were together? Ophelia wasn’t sure, but she found herself kind of okay with that. Because she told Luke she wanted to be with him after he’d told her the same, and with assurance, that was enough for now. Ophelia figured that Luke asking her to come with him was to distract himself from watching his ex-girlfriend be all over his cousin, and a nagging voice in the back of her mind wondered if there were still unresolved feelings on Luke’s part.

But the hopeful expression on his face, the way he chewed his lower lip and blue eyes seemed a bit worried, had Ophelia giving Luke a small smile as she shrugged. “Yeah, sure, I’ll come,” she finally said, watching as Luke’s eyes widened slightly.

“Really?” he questioned, brows risen. He hadn’t really expected for her to say yes right away—not that he was complaining. As soon as her answer had registered in his mind, Luke felt his heart do an excited leap. “I—you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think I’m usin’ you to make my ex jealous or anything. It’s just that I don’t wanna show up alone and her be—”

“Luke, stop,” Ophelia cut him off with an airy laugh, finding it endearing how he was suddenly a nervous rambling mess. While she was still trying to work out if Luke had any feelings left for this ex of his—and bitterly hoping that he didn’t because that would kind of suck—Ophelia felt a small sense of relief at his reassurance. He looked genuine in the matter. “I don’t mind. No offense, but your ex sounds like a bitch and your cousin a dick for doing that to you. I’m happy to go with you.”

She felt her heart do that giddy flutter in her chest at the sight of the relieved smile that stretched on Luke’s lips, dimples appearing under the dark blonde facial hair that decorated his sharp jaw and around his mouth as his hands reached forward and grasped hers gratefully. “Thank you, darling,” he breathed out, squeezing Ophelia’s smaller hands. “You’ve no idea how much this means to me. I swear I’ll make it up to you when it’s over.”

Ophelia’s lips pressed together, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards as she grabbed her laptop and reached over to rest it on her bedside, eyes meeting Luke’s. Her smile turned slightly coy, hand that was still holding onto Luke’s as she used it to tug him closer. “You can start now,” she suggested boldy with a quirk of a brow, her smile widening as Luke mirrored her expression, not even hesitating to lean towards her as he immediately picked up on what she was saying.

A low, throaty chuckle escape Luke, though it was silenced the second Ophelia’s hands grasped Luke’s face and pulled his lips to hers, feeling the familiar thrilling shock course through her body as his soft lips met hers. Luke smiled against her mouth, never tired of kissing Ophelia as he got on his knees and grasped the back of Ophelia’s, using his grip to unfold her legs and pull her towards him. She effectively slid down, left hand going to the back of Luke’s neck as she laid down on the mattress and pulled Luke on top of her. Her heart rang in her ears and her body grew warm in excitement as Luke deepened the kiss, feeling his tongue against hers and the ends of his curly hair tickle her face as he hovered above her.

As he kissed her, hands sliding under her shirt and prompting Ophelia’s heart to skip a beat at the feel of his cool rings against her warmed skin, Luke couldn’t help but notice the change of taste in her lips. “Changed your watermelon chapstick for strawberry, huh?” Luke murmured against her mouth, supporting himself on top of her with his arms as he trailed open mouthed kisses along her jaw.

Ophelia let out a breathless laugh, eyes shut as she reveled in the scratch of his beard against her skin, fingers threading through Luke’s curly locks. “Yeah,” she whispered, heart thudding rapidly in her chest as she felt Luke lightly bite at the spot that connected her jaw and neck, “you like it?”

“Mhm,” Luke let out a deep hum, bringing his mouth back to cover Ophelia’s, licking at her lower lip as he smirked, “love strawberries,” before grasping the hem of her shirt and tugging it upwards.

Ophelia grinned, a pretty flush across her face that made Luke’s heart drum thuddingly as she leaned up slightly to allow Luke to fling it right off of her. The immediate tightening in his sweatpants could be felt against Ophelia’s clothed core as Luke let out a deep breath, blue eyes trained on her bare chest as his hands immediately came up to grasp her full breasts. “No bra?” he smirked, watching in satisfaction as Ophelia arched into his touch, eyes closed and sharp breath expelling from her parted pouty lips. Luke leaned down, keeping his gaze trained on Ophelia’s pleasured expression as he let his lower lip drag against her perky pink nipple, mumbling, “you’re too good to me, pretty girl.”

The way her head tilted back, exposing the expanse of her neck as a soft moan escaped her begged Luke to get rid of his sweatpants as soon as possible. But he took his time, wrapping his lips around her nipple while his right hand ever so slightly squeezed the soft plush of her other breast. One of Ophelia’s hands were at the back of his head, fingers gripping his curls while her other pushed back her own hair from her forehead and teeth sunk to her lower lip to stop any sounds from escaping. Her roommates were still in the apartment, after all.

“Come on, Luke,” Ophelia finally breathed out, her voice uncharacteristically raspy from the pleasure his mouth and hand were delivering to her chest. Luke watched as she opened her eyes, hazel eyes darkened with pleasure as she begged, “get down to it already, please.”

Luke wasn’t one to deny her what she wanted, though when he lifted his head he kept his lips wrapped around Ophelia’s nipple, teasing it lightly with his teeth. Ophelia dropped her head back, muttering a soft, “oh, God,” as Luke smirked to himself before sliding down even more, letting his fingers hook into the band of her night shorts and pull it down her legs as he went.

Luke let out a throaty groan when he realized Ophelia was completely naked in front of him and completely ready for whatever Luke was about to do to her. But Luke couldn’t help but stop for a moment, sitting on his knees at the sight of the breathtakingly gorgeous girl laying on the bed. Whether she was naked, in sweats or dressed up—Ophelia managed to take Luke’s breath away and cease the beating of his heart in half a second. She was flawless in his eyes, and Luke found himself wondering how he got lucky enough to have someone like her interested in him.

When Ophelia let out another small whimper, Luke was thrown back into reality and he instantly reached to the back of his shirt, taking it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor before pulling of his sweatpants. The room was slightly cold, but goosebumps had no chance of raising on his skin at the brilliant heat he felt spreading throughout his body at the sight of Ophelia and the anticipated thrill of being inside of her in a matter of moments.

“Wait,” Ophelia suddenly said, reluctantly leaning up on her elbows and reaching over to pull open her bedside drawer. Luke watched, eyes following the lines and curves of her gorgeous body, before Ophelia tossed the royal blue packet towards him. He caught it, mentally berating himself for forgetting the condom as he used his teeth to rip open the corner of the packet.

His gaze was fixated on Ophelia, her chest rising and falling in eagerness while she watched through a hooded gaze as Luke slid the condom on, a hiss escaping pass his teeth at the feel of the latex. Luke leaned to hover over Ophelia once more, right arm supporting him once more as his left hand lined his shaft up to her awaiting entrance. Their hearts were thundering, which was ironic because they’ve done this a number of times yet the thrilled beating of their hearts and the dizzy pleasure they got in their heads never ceased.

Luke’s head was above hers, curly hair curtaining his cheeks as Ophelia’s right hand reached up to push it back, fingers tangled in and their breaths mingling together as Luke’s blue eyes locked with her hazel. “Ready, sweetheart?”

Ophelia nodded quickly, humming her agreement after hearing Luke’s words over the pounding in her ears, though she still felt the smile twitch at her lips. It immediately disappeared, replaced by her eyes shutting and lips parting with a quiet moan as Luke entered her swiftly, familiarly, his guttural groan joining in with the sweet sounds she was making as his forehead dropped to rest against Ophelia’s. “Fuck,” he rasped, unsure if he would ever get used to the way she felt around him, so ready and so fucking amazing, eyes squeezing shut. “Feel so good, pretty girl,” he couldn’t help but add, pulling out just a bit after she nodded in approval before jutting his hips forward once more, swallowing the moan that escaped Ophelia by pressing his lips to hers.

The movements of his hips meeting hers were slow, purposeful, and Ophelia’s arms looped under Luke’s, pulling him down on her and nails scraping down his muscled back that had yet another deep groan sounding from Luke’s throat. Their lips moved together bruisingly, every sense filled with each other as their bare chests pressed together while their tongues met. Ophelia felt that familiar overwhelmness she felt every time she and Luke were joined together so intimately, incredulous at how dizzyingly fantastic it felt to have him fill her up so completely. Every thrust had her heart threatening to burst out of her chest, and every whispered encouragement from Luke intensified the warmth on her face and prompted even more quiet moans of Luke’s name to spill from her lips.

It wasn’t long until both of them could feel the recognizable clenching in the pits of their stomachs, Ophelia’s legs that had wrapped around Luke’s hips to deepen the feel of him beginning to shake as he effectively brought her closer to the edge. “Oh, God, Luke,” Ophelia groaned against his mouth, their lips pink and swollen from the kisses they refused to end. “I’m gon—”

Their noses brushed together, Luke not letting up from the thrusts of his hips into Ophelia’s as her nails on his back egged him on, heart thumping and ring clad fingers clenching the bed sheets next to her head. “Let go for me, sweetheart,” Luke croaked, accent thickening as he buried his face in the crook of Ophelia’s neck. He breathed in her familiar fruity scent as her hands pressed against his back at the feel of his beard scraping her skin. The tension that had built up in their bodies finally released explosively as Ophelia’s back arched and teeth clamped on the skin of Luke’s shoulder.

Both of their bodies pulsed shakily, heavy breaths and moans they attempted to keep quiet falling past their lips as head spinning orgasms igniting their skin yet slowly loosened the tightness of their limbs. Once spent, the room full of the sounds of their heavy breathing, Luke found himself laying on top of Ophelia, still inside her yet not being able to bring it in himself to move just yet. Ophelia didn’t mind, eyes closed and a blissfully pleased smile tilting at her lips as her hands remained on Luke’s back. “Just so you know,” she found herself speaking, her voice still a whisper as she tried to catch her breath. “I still expect a little something after the weekend.”

Luke’s broad shoulders shook as a deep chuckle rumbled, face still buried in her neck as Ophelia felt his lips press a kiss at the skin there. “Absolutely,” he murmured back, before his arms slid around her bare back to swiftly flip them on the bed, earning a startled yelp from Ophelia as she was now suddenly on top—with Luke still inside of her.

They got rid of the used condom, throwing it in the trash as Ophelia remained laying on top of Luke, bringing her blanket up to cover their bare, spent bodies. She felt so small against his broad chest, laying with her cheek pressed against it as she felt the tips of his fingers lightly trail down the expanse of her back, the soothing gesture along with the thrum of his heartbeat making her eyes flutter closed. Ophelia smiled sleepily—she definitely wasn’t going to get tired of sex with Luke.

*******

Luke’s mother was the sweetest woman Ophelia had ever met. From the moment Luke and Ophelia showed up at the doorstep of his home, Liz Hemmings was all smiles as she hugged and kissed her son before greeting Ophelia with a motherly hug as well. She then had one of Luke’s older brothers, Ben, take her bag upstairs to the guest room before dragging Ophelia into the kitchen, asking if she wanted anything to eat.

Ophelia and Luke were the first to arrive at his house, and since his home was a near three hour drive from campus, the two were spending the night instead of making a total of a six hour trip in one day. Her stuff was in the guest room, much to the disappointment of Luke, but Ophelia didn’t mind—sharing a bed with Luke lately ended up in sex and Ophelia didn’t think it was a good idea to do that with Luke’s family under the same roof.

“Your mom’s adorable,” Ophelia commented once she joined Luke in the backyard, where the party was mostly set up. It was November but it was still warm enough on this particular day to have an outdoor party—Ophelia would fight anyone who said climate change wasn’t a real thing. “She’s into photography?”

She had noticed the Nikon camera the blonde woman had hanging from her neck, one hand almost always on it as if she was always prepared to take a picture. Luke chuckled, ripping open a bag of Tostitos and emptying it out in a bowl on one of the lawn tables that were set up outside. “When she’s not teaching math, she’s taking pictures,” he nodded in confirmation as he crumpled up the bag in his hands. “She’s pretty good, too.”

“Does she do it professionally?” Ophelia asked, hugging her cardigan closer to her as a light breeze blew past. It was warm out, but the occasional wind rose goosebumps on her skin.

“On the side, yeah,” Luke nodded, glancing over Ophelia’s shoulder as his older brother Jack walked out and towards a Bluetooth speaker set up on the side, connecting his phone before a Duran Duran song began playing. “Oi, Jack, when’s everyone gettin’ here?”

“Aunt Penny and the others just got here,” Jack responded, shooting Ophelia a friendly grin before going back inside the house.

Turning to look back at Luke, Ophelia raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a lot of family in the States?” she asked, a question she had been wondering about but never really prodded Luke on. He was Australian, obviously, but she didn’t know that he had lots of relatives here in New Jersey.

“My dad’s side, yeah,” Luke told her as he led her across the yard towards the backdoor. “He grew up in America and wanted to go to uni in Sydney so he moved back, met Mum, and then when I was five we moved here.”

“Your accent’s pretty thick for someone who grew up in America,” Ophelia teased, feeling her heart flutter happily as Luke draped his right arm over her shoulders to pull her closer as they walked.

Luke chuckled, left hand running through his curls as his boots thudded more heavily than Ophelia’s as they got to the porch. “Spent a lot of my vacations back in Aus, since Mum’s side of the family’s still there.”

Entering the house—Ophelia enjoyed the delicious smells of food inside—the two of them caught sight of a couple being greeted by Luke’s parents, as well as two young children running down the hall, squeals of laughter escaping them as they each latched onto Luke’s legs. “Wh—hey!” Luke laughed as Ophelia stepped to the side, a smile growing on her face as Luke bent down slightly to ruffle the tops of the two kids’ heads. Both blonde, one boy and one girl as they cutely grinned up at Luke. He mirrored their expression, blue eyes lighting up happily as he mused, “how’re you doin’, kiddos?”

“I missed you, Luke,” Luke’s eight year old cousin, Holly, smiled up at him as she and her twin brother, Jake, finally let go of Luke’s legs to let him stand properly.

“Yeah,” Jake piped up excitedly, and Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest as she watched them with a smile tugging on her lips. “You gonna play your guitar for us?” he then asked, and Ophelia noticed that unlike their older cousin, the two little kids were American—which, she figured, wasn’t surprising.

Luke chuckled, ruffling the little boy’s hair once more. “Maybe later, buddy,” he relented.

“Who are you?” Ophelia blinked at the sudden question directed towards her, eyes landing on Holly who was peering up at her with curious brown eyes, head tilted to the side.

Her brother looked up at Ophelia as well, both of them looking expectant as Ophelia’s lips parted, slightly taken aback at the sudden attention the two of them were giving her. Fortunately, Luke quickly swooped in, grinning, “this is my friend, Ophelia.” Crouching down to his knees, Luke put his arms around either of the twins’ shoulders, smiling up at the girl who was most definitely more than just a friend as he introduced, “Ophelia, these are my cousins Holly and Jake.”

“Hi,” Ophelia smiled at them, offering a small wave at the two children who easily returned her grin.

“Luke! Come say hi to Penny and Darrel!” Luke’s mother’s voice sounded, and the twenty-one year old ushered his younger cousins off to the backyard before meeting Ophelia’s gaze and nodded his head towards the front of the house, a silent request for her to follow him.

Luke’s aunt and uncle were gathered in the kitchen with his parents, immediately and excitedly pulling Luke into a hug as loud chatter filled the room. Ophelia stood idly, awkwardly by, making conversation with Jack’s girlfriend Celeste until Ophelia heard Luke’s aunt say, “oh, is that your girlfriend?”

Unable to help herself, Ophelia glanced where Luke stood with his aunt and uncle, taking it as her cue to introduce herself as she offered a smile. “Oh, uh,” Luke fumbled, earning quizzical looks from the two adults as Ophelia pressed her lips together. Luke’s blue eyes then met Ophelia’s hazel, and she saw something flash in his. There was a gentle look of realization that fluttered across his features, before a smile quirked at his lips and he looked back at his aunt and uncle. “Yeah, she is.”

What they were to each other wasn’t something Luke and Opehlia had discussed, but to hear him put a label on it had Ophelia’s heart jumping right into her throat. Whether it was officially or not, Ophelia felt a sense of relief flood through her at the thought that being his girlfriend was something Luke wanted.

Even if her presence at Luke’s house was mostly to be by his side whenever his cousin and ex-girlfriend showed up, Ophelia was glad to be there. Sure, she hadn’t really expected to meet his family already, but there was a warm contentment that engulfed her being in Luke’s home with him. So she smiled at each and every relative of Luke’s that arrived, more than happy to meet them. Especially his grandmother, who they were celebrating today, and Ophelia loved that the small woman was lively as ever. Particularly when she had Luke bend down so she could reach up and pinch his cheeks like he was a ten year old.

Most of the guests had arrived by three, the music playing through the speaker as they all gathered outside. Luke’s father was manning the grill and if people weren’t eating the hot dogs and burgers being made on that then they were munching on the different pastas, mashed potatoes, and other foods laid out. Luke’s dad had two brothers and a sister, so they were all here with their spouses and kids, the yard full of people chattering and having a good time—and every introduction included Luke telling them that Ophelia was his girlfriend.

The smile that pulled at her lips wasn’t something she could ever hope to stop when the word left his lips. She never missed the brightness in his blue eyes, either.

“Oh, Max, you’re here!” Luke’s aunt Hilarie exclaimed, catching Ophelia’s attention as she lowered her can of Coke and looked towards the woman. Hilarie was hugging a blonde boy, another girl standing on his other side that Ophelia couldn’t quite see as Hilarie continued, “I thought you’d never make it.”

“Sorry, Mom,” the boy, Max, laughed lightly, and Ophelia immediately blinked in realization as the name sunk in her mind. Her eyes darted around the yard, no longer paying attention to the conversation she was in with Celeste and another one of Luke’s aunts, before they finally landed on the boy she was looking for.

Ophelia’s grip tightened on her can nervously, conscious of the nearly empty plate of food she was balancing on her lap, as she caught sight of the look on Luke’s face. He may be standing on the other side of the yard, but she could make out thinning of his lips and furrow between his eyebrows, gaze fixated on the newly arrived people. It was them; the cousin and the ex-girlfriend, and Ophelia wondered if she should go over to Luke to distract him in some way. That’s what she was there for, right?

“Luke, dude! Haven’t seen you in a while, man!” Max’s voice rung out, and Ophelia blinked in mild alarm as the new guy wandered over to Luke, casual and calm as if nothing was wrong.

Unable to help herself, Ophelia’s eyes wandered towards the girl following Max, feeling insecurity tightening her throat at the leggy, dark skinned girl with shiny, straightened hair that made Ophelia’s nicely French braided one look like a bird’s nest. The girl, whom Ophelia knew to be Gwen, was gorgeous and Ophelia understood why Luke would ever date her. By looks alone, this girl was a stunner.

Though, Ophelia tried to make herself feel better because if Gwen left her boyfriend for her boyfriend’s cousin, then that doesn’t say many good things about the kind of person she was.

“Oh, God,” Ophelia heard Celeste mutter, the younger girl looking towards the dirty blonde haired woman, surprised to see Celeste staring towards Luke in apprehension. “I hope Luke doesn’t take a swing at Max again. Nan’s gonna be pissed if they ruin her birthday.”

Ophelia was taken aback, brows rising slightly as she asked, “Luke and Max fought before?”

Celeste turned her body to face Ophelia, Aunt Leslie now having a conversation with Liz, as she nodded. “Oh, yeah,” Celeste informed, hazel eyes widening like she was confiding a big secret. She wrung her fingers together as she continued, “when we all went to Aunt Hilarie’s house for Thanksgiving last year and Luke saw that Gwen was there as Max’s date, shit hit the fan. Luke broke Max’s nose, he was so pissed off. And rightfully so!” Celeste shook her head, face scrunching in distaste as her eyes locked with Ophelia’s. “You ask me, Gwen’s not worth it. She cheated on Luke to be with Max—I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up cheating on him, too.”

Ophelia pressed her lips together, processing Celeste’s words as she straightened her back in the plastic lawn chair she was occupying. Truthfully, Ophelia wasn’t surprised that Luke punched out his cousin, but a little ball of dread did form in the pit of her stomach at the thought of it possibly happening again today. She may have only been here for a couple of hours, but Ophelia already adored Luke’s grandmother—and, God, she adored Luke, too. That being said, she didn’t want this day being spoiled by Luke and his cousin throwing fists at each other.

“I think Luke’s calling you.”

Blinking at Celeste in confusion, Ophelia followed the older girl’s gaze as she nodded forward, and Ophelia’s lips parted slightly in realization as she caught sight of Luke looking right at her. Even from the distance, she noticed the pleading look on his face, and Ophelia immediately stood up and excused herself from Celeste, putting her plate on the chair before crossing the yard and making her way over to the three people standing near the hammock Luke’s younger cousins were swinging on.

Luke felt relief course through him as Ophelia approached, replacing some of the irritation and frustration he had been feeling the second Max and Gwen had stepped into the backyard. Only a single thought had entered Luke’s mind the second he saw Gwen; he couldn’t stand her. Any positive feelings he had towards the girl were now gone, instead replaced with a screaming reminder of what she had done. Fortunately, Luke knew subjecting himself to having feelings for someone capable of cheating on another person would just make him look like a dumbass, and it was a good thing he didn’t feel for her what he used to.

He was pulled out of his thoughts once Ophelia neared them, coming to stand to Luke’s right as he watched a smile pull at her pretty pink lips, one that he recognized as her faux sweet one. “Hi,” Ophelia greeted in a friendly tone, cheekbones prominent as both Max and Gwen’s gazes snapped to the brunette at Luke’s side. “You must be Max and Gwen, right?” She didn’t wait for a response, sliding her left arm around Luke’s waist, the taller boy allowing her to pull him closer as she continued, “I’m Ophelia, Luke’s girlfriend.”

Luke stared down at her in a mixture of awe and amusement. She looked completely at ease, a glint in her eyes that was equal parts mischievous and contemptuous. The smile effortlessly tugged on Luke’s lips as Ophelia’s gaze flickered up to meet his, green eyes bright under the afternoon sun and gleaming in mischief before looking at the two people in front of them.

Max smiled at her politely, and Ophelia noticed that like Luke, he had blue eyes that accompanied his blonde hair, though Ophelia easily preferred the taller boy standing next to her. Luke’s own arm casually wrapped around Ophelia’s shoulders, his body relaxing being so close to her.

“Oh,” Gwen returned, her hand sliding down Max’s arm to grip his hand, a smile stretching on her full lips that Luke knew to be as fake as Ophelia’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Ophelia.”

Luke was trying desperately to keep his lips from forming a smirk, unsurprised that Gwen’s reaction of false politeness went completely over Max’s head. While he didn’t hold any feelings for her anymore, Luke still could read Gwen the way he used to be able to, and he was going to use it to his advantage to provoke a reaction out of the fake bitch—not a word he liked using towards a woman, but there was no harm saying it in his head. Especially towards Gwen. Ophelia was more than happy to help.

“Yeah, you too,” Ophelia nodded, hand on Luke’s back under the leather jacket he wore, feeling the soft material of his shirt under her palm as she added sweetly, “Luke’s told me lots about you guys.”

The uncomfortable expressions on Gwen and Max’s faces threatened a smug smirk to curl at Luke’s lips. His anger towards the two of them made him want to make them feel as uncomfortable as he could manage, and clearly Ophelia was on board with that. God knows Ophelia would’ve blown a gasket if her ex dated her cousin that they cheated on her with. It was just wrong.

Fortunately, Luke’s mother called everyone towards one of the circular tables that was pulled in front of Luke’s grandmother, placing the sheet cake in front of the older woman so she could blow out her candles and cut it. Everyone gathered around as Luke’s grandmother held the knife, his grandfather right by her side as Liz snapped pictures of everyone singing happy birthday to the seventy-five year old woman.

As they sang and clapped, Ophelia’s eyes flickered across the round table where Gwen was standing next to Max, and though the girl’s lips were moving to sing happy birthday, her gaze wasn’t fixated on the blonde to her left—rather, she was focused on the blonde next to Ophelia. “You know, if I didn’t know any better,” Ophelia spoke up quietly, hands still clapping as she leaned her head towards Luke. The taller boy leaned down slightly to his right, stopping his singing, though mouthing along, to listen to Ophelia’s low tone while keeping his gaze on his grandmother. “I’d think that Gwen still has some type of feelings for you.”

Luke blinked, expression morphing into one of weirded out incredulity as the singing turned into loud cheers, everyone clapping as Nan cut the cake. Luke clapped along, but he looked at Ophelia in bewilderment. “What?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest after she finished clapping and the sounds of Luke’s family members clamouring over his grandmother filled her ears. “She keeps looking at you like you’re a piece of meat and she hasn’t eaten in days,” Ophelia murmured, scoffing slightly with a slight shake of her head as she tore her gaze away from the other girl, meeting Luke’s eyes. Lowering her voice even more, Ophelia whispered conspiratorially, “a girl only looks at a guy like that if she wants to get dicked down.”

Luke pressed his lips together, stifling the snort of laughter threatening to blow past as they dispersed from around the table, walking further down the yard as he looked down at Ophelia disbelievingly. “Are you serious?” he said, allowing a short laugh to escape as the two of them settled on sitting on the grass, leaning back against the tall wooden fence that surrounded the yard. “Sweetheart, Gwen doesn’t want to get dicked down by me.”

Ophelia suppressed the smile from growing on her lips at Luke’s repetition of her words, finding him saying them somewhat amusing as she crossed her legs. The floral romper she wore allowed for the occasional goosebumps on her legs whenever there was a gust of wind, and now her bare skin was being tickled by the grass they sat on.

The yard was full of the light hum of everyone chattering, mixed in with laughter and music playing and it felt nice to Ophelia. She had just met these people only hours before, but she felt comfortable around all of them. Eyes wandering around, they landed on Gwen once more before she let out a breathy laugh and glanced at Luke. “Yeah?” she responded to his statement, watching as he turned his head to look at her with a quirk of his brow. “Then why hasn’t she taken her eyes off of you since she got here?”

Luke frowned, looking away and to where Gwen was. When his blue eyes met her dark brown ones across the yard, Ophelia noticed the way Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat before his frown deepened and he looked back at Ophelia, stretching his jean clad legs out in front of him and lacing his ring clad fingers together on his lap. Ophelia couldn’t help the bit of relief at the sight of Luke looking completely turned off and disgruntled by Gwen’s gaze. “She care stare all she wants,” Luke said, “doesn’t mean she’ll get anything in return.”

He tilted his head back, leaning it against the fence and eyes going skyward, and Ophelia couldn’t help but keep staring at him. Luke closed his eyes as a gust of wind blew at their faces, tousling his curls, and Ophelia’s own eyes followed the curve of his nose, the fullness of his lower lip and the sharp line of his jaw, before having to look away quickly as suddenly images of his facial hair scratching her neck from last night began flashing through her mind.

Ophelia let out a breath. This was gonna be a long day.

tags: @irwinkitten @softforcal @astroashtonio @valentinelrh @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @gorgeouslygrace @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn

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let-me-love-you-loki · 5 years ago

Text

The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch 12. Part 1

A/N: Okay, so this chapter is SO LONG that we’re posting it in two parts. This part is about the girls, and it explores a little of their history and relationship. There’s some girl action in this part of the chapter, so fair warning. As always, written with the amazingly wonderful bestie-lifepartner @mox-made-me-do-it.

Chapter 12 Part 1: Everyone (The Girls)

Leigh

I followed Allie into the bungalow, bursting with questions. Kenny might not have noticed the rumpled bed and the furtive glances, but I had. I knew that look in my best friend’s eyes. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the open lust in Adam’s eyes when he looked at her.

“So,” Allie said, trailing through the bungalow lazily. “What are we going to do while we wait for dinner?”

My brows rose as I watched her. I hopped up onto the bed and sat in the center, patting the mattress next to me. She climbed up and stretched out with her head in my lap. Her blonde hair was slightly tangled as I ran my fingers through it. I watched her hazel eyes slip shut and heard the little hum deep in her throat.

“You’re going to tell me everything that happened,” I said teasingly, scratching my fingernails over her scalp. “And you’re not going to leave out a single thing.”

Allie cracked open one eye. Her cheeks turned red. “A girl’s got to have some secrets,” she said dismissively. She grinned faintly and snuggled deeper into my lap. I had a sudden flash of memory of our days in college together. Mischief crossed my mind.

“Come on, Als, tell me,” I whined. I removed her head from my lap and stretched out on the bed beside her. When she remained thoroughly tight lipped, I sighed. If I couldn’t get her to spill the beans with straight questions, I’d do it other means.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers gently. I let them linger there for a brief moment before I drew away. “Did Adam do that?”

She let out a hum of agreement. I grinned and pressed my advantage. My fingertips brushed over her cheek and slid them along her jaw and down to cup her neck. I pushed forward and kissed her again, this time with more intent. My tongue traced the seam of her lips as I tipped her head just where I wanted it. Allie sighed and her mouth opened beneath mine. I felt her hands curl against my ribs. Before she could settle into the kiss, I broke it.

“Did he do that?” I whispered, trying to control my heartbeat. Memories of the past with Allie came flooding back, settled perfectly within my head next to the new ones of Kenny. I licked my lips and settled my forehead against hers.

She whimpered in acknowledgement even as she slipped her hand up and into my hair. I felt her fingers curl in it as she pulled me close. Her mouth found mine, and she didn’t hold back. Allie nipped at my bottom lip before slipping her tongue into my mouth. Heat rushed through me, and I melted against her. She took control of the kiss, deepening it, tightening her fingers in my hair.

The moment she backed away, I chased after. My mouth skimmed up the side of her jaw to her ear. I scraped my teeth gently against a spot behind her ear. Her fingers flexed against my hair, and I growled softly. “Did Adam do this?”

I slipped my fingers up beneath her shirt and walked them along her ribs. I felt my lips curl up in a smirk as I remembered another sun-washed day as the feel of Allie Mason’s flesh beneath my palms. She arched up as I traced the bottom of her breasts teasingly with my fingertips. Allie let out a whine as I swept my touch along the soft underside of her breasts, never moving higher and never touching her where she really wanted.

“Come on, Als,” I whispered, skimming my lips along her throat. “Tell me what happened.”

She shook her head stubbornly. I rolled my eyes and scratched my nails down her sides. I grinned as she shivered, her hips lifting reflexively. She whimpered as I set my hands over her breasts and squeezed playfully, rolling her nipples between my finger and thumb.

“Leigh,” she whispered, her fingers slipping into my hair again.

Wickedness crept into my smile. “Hmm, did Adam do this?” I pushed her shirt up and pressed my lips against her flesh, licking a slow circle around her nipple. Her hold on my hair tightened as I moved from one to the other.

I nipped gently, happy with the sharp gasp I heard. She panted as my hand skimmed down her stomach. My fingers fluttered against the band of her shorts. Her stomach contracted and her back arched up. I squeezed my eyes shut as another memory flashed in front of my mind’s eye. Allie and I racing up the stairs of the Zeta Tau house after the winter formal, our hair falling out of the elaborate designs as we slipped into our shared bedroom. The door slammed shut behind us as she pushed me against the wood, curled her fingers around the back of my neck, and kissed me. If I thought about it hard enough, I could taste the pomegranate and champagne on her tongue.

In an instant, it was as if I was back in that moment again. Allie’s hands slipped around the back of my neck, her fingers wrapping in my hair as she pulled me up toward her. I felt her smile as she pressed her lips against mine. I slid my arms around her, pulling her close and returning her kiss with joy. My heart skipped a beat.

She sat up, pushing her advantage. I sat back on my knees, feeling her fingers slip along my throat as she swept her tongue along my lips. I’d forgotten what it was like to kiss Allie and how much I enjoyed it. She cradled my jaw with one hand as the other stroked slowly along my shoulder and down my arm. I shivered and let out a sigh as I moved closer, straddling her thigh.

“Leigh,” she whispered as we broke apart. Her hazel eyes were still closed. I reached for her again and felt her fingers brush up beneath the hem of my t-shirt.

“Hmm, Als?” I replied, nuzzling against her cheek.

She kissed my neck just beneath my ear. I closed my eyes and smiled as her fingers skimmed along my ribs. Allie’s mouth found mine again, this kiss more insistent and demanding. I twisted my fingers in her shirt even as she pushed my own upward. She slipped away just long enough to pull the fabric over my head. I tugged hers off before she kissed me again, moaning softly against her mouth as bare skin touched.

We smiled softly at one another for an instant. For just a fraction of a second, it was as if Izzy and Jon had never happened. Then I remembered Kenny and Adam and why this moment had started in the first place.

I let out a gasp when I felt Allie’s hand skim up my thigh. Her fingertips brushed the edge of my panties and my hips rolled. I bit down hard on my lip and grabbed the band of her shorts, tugging them down over her hips. Kneeling beside her, I pulled them off and dropped them onto the floor beside the bed. I took an instant’s time to look along the length of her body before I nudged her legs apart and settled on my stomach between her thighs.

Reaching back, I tugged the blanket up over my head and grinned as I licked a slow trail from her knee up the inside of her leg.

Allie

“Holy fuck!” I said as I felt the tip of her tongue ghost up my inner thigh. Unsurprisingly, Leigh was the only person that could send chills up my spine by barely touching me. Her fingers inched up my legs teasingly, the knot in my belly beginning to grow. My body burned, and I felt my pussy getting wetter.

The way she touched me made me want her even more.

“Baby girl?” Leigh asked in a tone I hadn’t heard since college. It was barely above a whisper. “Did Adam do this?”

When her warm, wet mouth attached to my core it sent shock waves through my entire body. Leigh was the first and only woman that could touch me like this. I was putty in her hands with her every touch having me begging for more. Her left arm hooked under my thigh to hold me close as my hips lifted to meet her mouth. She pulled away teasingly.

“If that's a yes, I'm gonna need you use your words, babes. You know I love hearing you Als. Just think about how loud you always got.” She licked a long, slow trail along my core before I heard her voice again. “I swear the entire house heard us that night. Now be a good girl and come for me.”

It was wicked of her. A loud moan escaped my lips as her teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh between my legs. I could feel a smile curl on to Leigh's lips as her tongue slid over that little bundle of nerves. My back arched off the bed and threaded a hand into her hair. The auburn strands slipped against my fingers as I pulled her closer. Only seconds later I was a moaning mess in her hands.

It would be a miracle if the boys didn't hear us.

“Leigh… Holy fuck… Babes… I'm gonna come so hard.” I'm not sure how I started forming words. My brain definitely wasn't working. It was fried from the way her fingers slowly walked up my thigh. While her tongue focused on my clit, swirling and flicking devilishly, two fingers slipped inside me.

I let out a moan and tightened my hold in her hair.

She remembered exactly what I liked. It was like the last several years hadn't even existed. The way she immediately found that one tiny spot—the one that half the time I couldn't find—made me whimper wantonly. As another finger pushed inside me, I could hear Leigh moan as I came all over her fingers. An earth rattling scream tore out of me as the orgasm blasted through my limbs.

Shit the guys, I thought desperately, the terror spiking on the crest of my orgasm. There is no way they didn't just hear that. Shit Adam! What would he think? Kenny too? I don't want to ruin any of this. Stupid horomones.

In the next moment, thoughts were useless. My body went weak as she pulled her fingers out of the fountain that was me. Her lips skimmed up my inner thigh. Panting, I closed my eyes and focused on the feel of her mouth and her fingers on my body. She was amazing. Honest to God, the best lover that I’d ever had. I ran my fingers through her hair, just like I had all those times in the Zeta Tau house.

Then it all came flooding back. The lazy Sunday mornings. The midnight thunderstorms. All the heartache we had endured over the years. All the struggles. I’d known it all those years ago. I would do anything for Leigh, and I loved her more than I had loved anyone. Jon could never accept that he would always—in some ways—be second to her, regardless of how far apart we were. She would always be there. And, honestly, I wouldn't change anything.

“Allyson Mason, please tell me what happened with Adam? It's not like you to not want to share the details.” Leigh asked quietly, almost concerned. It wasn’t often that she called me by my full first name. It got my attention. “I can see you're not hurt, but you are uncharacteristically quiet considering I already know what happened.”

She crawled up from beneath the blankets and settled her mouth against my ear. “Babes, I could taste him on you. I just want to hear you say it.”

I shivered. Nodded.

“Leelee, come take a shower with me?” I whispered as she skimmed her fingertips along the valley between my breasts. “I'll show you everything he did. I promise.”

She hesitated, her fingers stilling. But I could hear the pound of her heart. I knew her. I knew that she was drowning in her own arousal.

“Please let me help you cum,” I murmured, threading my fingers into her hair. I pulled it gently, drawing her mouth close to mine. “You know you want to.”

Leigh’s green eyes opened, hooded and dark. That look practically begged me to kiss her. I released her hair, trailing my fingers down along her throat, and gently rose to my feet. I held out my hand out to her. Her own trembled as she reached out for mine.

“Als?” she whispered. Leigh lowered her eyes to the floor, all the confidence draining from her face. “Are you sure? I mean, I know this isn't exactly your normal...”

“If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have asked. Please stop overthinking and just trust me.” I smiled gently and tucked her wayward hair behind her ear. “You know you are the only woman I have ever wanted to be with. Now, you are going to come so hard Kenny is going to hear you and your knees won’t work. Are you going to go willingly, or am I gonna have to tie you up?”

Fire burned in her eyes as I pulled her to her feet. My free hand quickly found the back of her neck. I snatched her in close and kissed her as hard as I could. My tongue skimmed her mouth before pushing past her parted lips. The kiss was hungry and demanding, and it consumed everything.

I wished she could see herself through my eyes. To see how absolutely beautiful she was… especially when she moaned for me.

Leigh watched me with wide, breathtaking eyes when we broke apart. “Well, I guess I won't argue with that logic,” she whispered. “You really are too smart for your own good, you know that?”

I pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and slipped into the bathroom to turn on the shower. My heart thumped in my chest, but I didn’t doubt myself. Right then, all I wanted was her.

Once the shower was going and the room had filled with steam, Leigh joined me. She appeared through the mist. Leigh was never one for showing off her body, so when she walked into the shower wrapped in a towel, I wasn't surprised. It didn’t change the fact that the way her body moved drove me crazy. The way her hips moved when she walked was mesmerizing. I knew all the struggles behind those green eyes, and every day she amazed me more. She was my best friend, and probably one of the great loves of my life.

I sat on a huge ledge inside the shower and softly patted the tile next to me. She sat down and rested her head gently on my shoulder. An approving hum escaped my throat as I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pressing my lips to her temple.

“Look at you, all wrapped up like a Christmas present,” I cooed. “I must have been very good to receive such a gift.” I squeezed her tightly before I stood up and turned toward her.

Once our eyes locked, I could see the nerves fall away. She knew there was nothing that would make me stop loving her. Leigh didn't try to fight me when I reached for the towel. She shifted slightly as I unwrapped her, her gaze never leaving mine. Once the towel had been removed from Leigh's curvy frame, I dropped it on the shower floor in front of her. I couldn't hide the pure desire in my eyes. A long moment passed as I looked at her. Sure, we’d shared a room many times since college. I’d seen her naked more times than I could count. But just then, there was something about the moment that was different. I wished she knew how much I wanted her.

“Relax, babes. It's my turn to take care of you.” My fingernails moved up the side of her calves and thighs. Goosebumps formed on her skin. If I hadn’t known the truth, I would ask if she was cold.

I sank to my knees in front of her. The cold tile sharpened the heat rushing through my body. I couldn’t resist when the position brought her breasts right in front of me. I kept my eyes on her as I leaned forward. I took one nipple in my mouth, while my left hand enveloped the other. While rolling one nipple between my thumb and forefinger, the other perked as my teeth grazed over it. She arched forward, and I could see her eyelids fluttering.

A surprised gasp escaped her lips I bit gently and squeezed roughly. Her fingers were white knuckled on the edge of the ledge. I remembered her wickedness from earlier. Two can play that game. Releasing her breast from my left hand, I let it slowly explore lower, settling along the apex of her thighs. Her moan was loud and lewd when I gave a sudden sharp suck on her nipple. My right hand reached up to caress her cheek, and she turned to press a kiss into my palm.

I pushed her shoulder back so she would relax against the wall. My fingers ghosted along the side of her neck and down between her breasts. Putting a hand on each of her knees, I looked into her eyes. I waited, biting my lip almost as if I were asking permission. Slowly, I pushed Leigh’s knees apart and hooked my elbows under her knees.

“Als?” she panted. Her hips writhed, begging for friction. “Please, don't tease me.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, babes.” I pressed a kiss on the inside of her knee. And it was there that the gentleness stopped.

I pulled her closer. Without warning, I dipped my head between her legs. One long swipe of my tongue later, Leigh was putty in my hands. I closed my eyes and buried my tongue between her folds. As my tongue found her clit, I gently slid two fingers deep inside of her. There was no denying her arousal. She came almost immediately.

A loud shriek escaped her lips as a moan reverberated in my chest. God, she tastes amazing.

“Oh… my… God, Als!” She panted and ground her hips against me. “Please, don't stop. Holy fuck!” She was frantic, almost screaming.

Her eyes opened, making contact with mine momentarily before rolling back in her head. I watched her chest rise and fall in sync with the flicks of my tongue against her clit. Slowly, I worked a third finger inside her. Her body shuddered and her hips bucked. After giving her a moment to adjust, I started pumping my fingers inside her. I curled my them forward, angling them upward, steady at first then harder and faster. I sucked her clit into my mouth and bit down gently, flicking my tongue furiously.

She screamed my name as she came. It bounced from the tile, echoing in my ears like music.

Then, the sound of a familiar voice rang out.

“We heard screaming!” Kenny panted, obviously scared by Leigh’s noise. Adam pushed him further into the room, clearly worried that someone was hurt. “Are you o…...k?”

His voice dropped off when he seemed to realize what they’d walked into. I stood quickly and stepped in front of Leigh. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at a wide-eyed Kenny and Adam. Being the gentlemen they were, both men turned around and excused themselves quickly. Once their retreating backs were out of sight, I reached for Leigh. She was beet red and trying to cover up. But it seemed her limbs weren’t quite working yet.

We burst into giggles the moment we looked at one another.

“Should I go talk to them?” I asked as I helped my Leelee to her feet. She stood for a second and then plopped back down.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea. My legs don't want to work just yet.” A worried look crossed her face. It disappeared as fast as it arrived, replaced by a faint smile. “I'll be there in a minute.”

After a quick dry of my body, I wrapped the towel around my hair and put on a soft hotel robe, knotted tight around my waist. I hurried out of the bathroom, making sure to pull the door shut firmly behind me.

“Adam? Kenny?” I called, looking for the guys. They weren’t anywhere in the bungalow. Walking out onto the deck, I found them sitting with their legs hanging off the swim dock. The sound of my steps gave me away as I approached.

Kenny was the first to speak. “I swear we thought someone was hurt,” he said quickly, not looking at me. “I would never just… you know… if I didn't think…” As his voice dropped off, I could hear the sincerity. And the concern. He really was a nice guy. I could trust him with Leigh.

“Hey, Kenny, stop. It's okay. You didn’t have to leave. I know what you saw and…” I tried to explain but I stumbled over my thoughts. Adam stood and walked toward me with an open expression of amused interest. The noise of the door closing drew my attention away from his easy grin. Leigh had just emerged from the bungalow wrapped in a matching robe and clutching a towel in front of her.

The moment he saw her, Kenny ran to Leigh. They stood next to the daybed, whispering. Leigh was still bright red. She didn’t quite look him in the eyes. Kenny was white as a sheet.

Adam stood in front of me, taking my chin and lifting my face to meet his eyes. “Hey, you have nothing to explain, okay? Nothing has changed. The boat will be here in twenty minutes if you aren't otherwise engaged and would still like to join us.”

He smiled that slow cowboy grin. He pulled me in close to whisper in my ear. “Maybe after dinner you can give me a few pointers? Or should I talk to Leigh about that?” He smirked and pressed a kiss on my cheek. “Now, go get ready if you’re so inclined.”

Laughing, he then turned me around and sent me back towards the house with a slap on the ass. His voice stopped me a few steps later. “Hold on, we thought we heard a smaller scream earlier… was that you?”

Shit, he did hear me. What was the point of playing dumb? He’d seen the truth. I turned around and replied as innocently as possible. “Well, when she’s touching me like that and asking if you did that, too… I had to be honest.” With a wink and a smile, I ran off towards the bungalow, snatching Leigh away from Kenny as I went by.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @lilred91 @unabashedwrestlefics @not-that-kinda-gurl08

#the christmas that wasn't #aew #aew fanfiction #kenny omega #kenny omega fanfiction #adam page #adam page fanfiction #hangman adam page #hangman page fanfiction #travel #paradise #allie x leigh #wlw fiction #strangers to friends to lovers #cowriting #cowritten #mox-made-me-do-it #bisexual friends

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scgdoeswhat · 6 years ago

Text

Yours - Beckett x Clarette

Summary: A prelude and postlude to The Elementalists Book 2, Chapter 9.

Rating: NSFW

Words: 5126

Author’s Notes: Wow. This literally has been over a month in the making. I originally planned to finish this the weekend after Ch. 9 came out but real life sometimes decides to dump a load, right?

This also stemmed from two things:

Many moons ago @numberonepoetryexpert requested jealousy smut and it didn’t feel right until this.

This was the masterplan I was alluding to in that one thread so long ago, @queen-among-writers, @ludextruction, @fluffy-marshmallow-heart and @drakewalkerfantasy ! See, I knew where it was going!

Thanks everyone for their patience while I’ve regrouped. Special thanks to @brightpinkpeppercorn @hellomynameisdevi @a-whore-of-rome for keeping me sane and for the support.

Hope you all enjoy! Beckett doesn’t belong to me (unfortunately), but the story does. No Beta used.

Sorry if the “Read More” link isn’t working. It’s Tumblr’s fault, not mine!

Tag list: @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @grungeisntmything @friendlylilshipper @felmasri @numberonepoetryexpert @hellomynameisdevi @beckettbaguette @siegrrun @choicesthatplayyou @retroangxl @askdana @50shadesofgrayx @darley1101 @kamybelen-blog @herdecisions @artchoicesreblog @teenytinymagician @choicesfannatalie @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @abigailpoe @flyawayboo @brightpinkpeppercorn @gardeningourmet @harringtons-honey @manateemilk @queenodysseia @thatcatlady0716 @divergentofhogwarts @pottershat @topsyturvy-dream @choicesyouplayandmore @zeniamiii @never-neverland @drakewalkerfantasy @syltti78 @elementalistshoe @maxwellsquidsuit @sleepingpillcorporation @tabithacarlisle @ludextruction @pbmychoices @wickedgypsymoon @mistychoices @izzycheeese @lady-kato @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @flynnomalleys @walkerismychoice @a-whore-of-rome @drakesensworld @laceandlula @rhymesmenagerie @shainaa00 @princessstellaris @itsbrindleybinch @donutsgirl36 @liamzigmichael4ever @mckenzie-powell @sunflowergirl05 @justendlesssummerfeels @friedherringclodthing @choicesarehard @desiree-0816 @elanorwaverley

Please let me know if you want to be tagged/removed on future fics and I’ll tag anyone I may have missed in the comments. Thank you!

"Clarette, are you sure about this?" Beckett sat on the sofa, elbows on his knees, his hands wringing while he looked imploringly up at the woman pacing the common room area.

She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. "Yeah, I am. Knowing how Kane has operated so far, flattery will get us far."

"But how far are you willing to go to play this charade?"

"As far as I have to until I get the answers I need."

Beckett's brow furrowed, not liking her plan one bit. "I suppose there is no way I'll be able to dissuade you from this, is there? I’m afraid that you’re playing with fire."

"Shouldn’t you technically say ‘playing with air?’” She joked, trying to lighten the mood.

The poignant look that he gave in response took the smile off her face instantaneously.

Clarette walked over to the couch, stopping in front of him as she gently picked his hands up in hers, giving his fingers a small squeeze. “I promise I'll be safe. Besides, you and the rest of the Crue are going to be there to back me up, right?"

"Well yes, but – “ he angled his face up at her, apprehension etched over his handsome features. "I can't help but worry about you, especially with what you've been through." Beckett brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles. "I know I'm not good at sharing my emotions, but Clarette, you mean the world to me."

A tender smile crossed her face as she bent over and kissed him softly, relishing the feeling of his lips against her own. He responded with intensity, his hands finding themselves on her hips, bringing her closer. Their kisses grew in passion with each passing moment, the fire between them burning brightly.

Beckett pulled Clarette onto his lap, her knees on both sides of him as she straddled him. She ran her fingers through his hair, the affectionate gesture sending shivers through him. He groaned into her mouth, his grip tightening as his hands wandered to her ample bottom. Rolling her hips forward, she gasped, feeling his excitement under her, their eyes trained on each other before falling into another passionate embrace.

Minutes later, they broke apart, breathless. Her eyes remained closed while she rested her forehead against his, relishing the intimacy in between them. Her lids opened languidly and she found Beckett’s hazel grey eyes staring back at her, full of intense emotion. She took his face in her hands, cupping his jaw before kissing him once more.

"Beckett, you mean the world to me, too. I can't imagine my life without you in it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

Beckett's gaze softened with her admission, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gazed at her adoringly. “Hmmm, I believe you mean that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmured, his hand coming up to her face and caressing her cheek. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Clarette felt the warmth of the sun spread through her body with the smile he was giving her, the unadulterated joy radiating throughout her core. She brought her lips to his once more, their kisses slow and lingering, opposite of earlier yet both savoring the taste of each other.

Her lips curved upward and she couldn’t help but pull back with a little snicker, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “All you had to do was be yourself, a.k.a., you know, be hot.”

Reclining back on the sofa, he rolled his eyes as a blush dusted his cheeks. “You’re impossible, you know that?” He replied, a teasing, exasperated tone accompanying the smile on his face.

“Uh huh, and that‘s why you’re with me,” she laughed, getting off his lap. Offering her hands to pull him up, she sighed. “Come on, I guess we have to go and meet the rest of the gang now.”

“Do we have to? We were so comfortable.”

“I know, I’d rather be straddling you the rest of the night, but we need to prep for Kane.”

“Why are you always right about everything?” He reached for her hand as he stood, his mouth quirking as she helped straighten out his shirt and blazer without a second thought.

“I don’t know about everything, but if we were keeping tally, I’d definitely be lightyears ahead of you,” she ribbed, smoothing out the lapels on his jacket before running her hands down the front of his torso.

“I’m pretty sure if we started keeping track, I’d be able to match your score and obviously overtake it.” Beckett chuckled, a soft smile on his face as he bent over, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

“You wish, Harrington.” Giggling, she slipped her hand into his as they walked out of the room to hatch a game plan to take on Kane later that day.

The Penderghast consortium stood alert in the now barren space that had been a teahouse not even ten minutes ago. The entire setup was just an elaborate illusion concocted by Kane to lure Clarette into joining him that afternoon for a supposed friendly chat, even though the destruction surrounding them told a different story.

Moments prior, the Air Source had cupped Clarette’s face, his mouth at her ear, whispering words that were meant for her alone before he disappeared in a flurry. The intimate nature of his actions led to an awkward silence around the room, despite the number of people present.

“I need some air,” Beckett broke the silence with his sharp outburst, frowning in displeasure. Turning on his heel, he stormed out the door before Clarette even knew what was happening.

Katrina watched her younger brother stomp out of the decrepit bar, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I should make sure he’s okay,” she mentioned to no one in particular, although she made no move to follow him out.

Clarette put her hand on Katrina’s forearm, her brow knitted in concern. “I’ll go. It’s because of me we got in today’s mess, even though Beckett warned me not to.” She gave a hasty wave to everyone else in the room, running out to find Beckett.

Crossing the threshold of Penn Square and arriving back on the Penderghast campus, she ran down the main corridor, sprinting the last few meters when she saw his solitary figure marching towards the dormitories.

“Beckett, wait!” Clarette tapped her foot twice, enabling the Super Speed Spell she learned the year prior to catch up with his long strides.

He slowed his gait enough for her to draw near, but did not stop as the atmosphere grew tense between them on their silent walk back to his suite. Glancing up at him, she saw the contempt written all over his face.

‘Good job, Clarette. Way to fuck up the best thing you’ve ever had,’ she thought, her brow puckering in disappointment at herself. She followed him into his room, locking the door behind her as she braced herself for the inevitable breakup before they were ever officially together.

After a few strained seconds, she Spoke up, the prolonged silence making her anxious. “Please don’t be mad at me.” Her voice was unnaturally quiet, the opposite of her usual, self-assured nature.

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?!” He exclaimed, turning around to face her. “I am angry, but it is definitely not at you.”

The glint in his eyes was almost feral and his face was red from the exertion of the battle earlier, yet Clarette knew there was something else with the way he was looking at her. Without warning, he crossed the space between them, wrapping his hand around the back of her head before bringing her in for a searing kiss that left her weak in the knees.

“Clarette, I could never be angry with you,” he murmured, pulling back as his eyes bore into hers.

“Oh.” That was the only word she could get out, her head spinning before he laid his mouth on hers once more.

Beckett nipped at her lower lip, lightly sucking on it while his other hand found its way to her ass, pulling her closer to him. She moaned as she felt his length press against her and he took full advantage, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and deepening the kiss. Feeling her legs going weak, she grasped his shoulder for support; her reaction was seemingly the only thing keeping her standing.

Breaking the contact, he turned his attentions elsewhere, trailing kisses along her jaw, up to her ear, and then down to her neck, biting hard enough to undoubtedly leave a mark the next day. He captured her lips again before backing her up against the wall, his strong thigh in between hers, pinning her in place.

"Beckett, what are you doing?" The question barely passed her lips before her head lolled back with his continued affections. His lips attached to her neck, his tongue lightly licking her heated skin.

“You’re wearing too many clothes for what I want to do to you,” he breathed in her ear, his voice low with desire.

Beckett hurriedly hiked the skirt of her steampunk dress up, snaking his hand up her thigh, the smooth skin driving him wild. Holding her gaze, he lifted her leg by his hip, giving him access to grind into her.

Clarette met his every move, cursing the fabric that hindered the close contact they both craved. She felt the heat pooling in her belly, and she knew he could feel her excitement rolling off of her. Never had she seen Beckett in such a primal, primitive, and possessive state and it was turning her on to no end.

Making his way back to her mouth, he gave her a bruising kiss before pulling back, a wild look in his eyes. He stared at her, his steel grey orbs molten with desire and the fire within him blazing.

"Clarette, it drove me insane watching you flirt with him," he frowned. "When he touched your arm, it took every fiber of my being to not instinctively wrap my hands around his throat, Air Source or not. The insinuation that he had something special set up for you and him, only to then whisk you away to God knows where? All I could see was him caressing your arm and wanting more... and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. The next thing I knew, he had taken you from sight and you disappeared.”

"But you said you were fine with it and look, we're all okay-"

"I never said I was fine with it. Willingly let you flirt with another man? It doesn't matter that he's the Air Source; it was obvious from the beginning that he held a strange fascination with you. You always captivated him. Given the chance, he would bed you in an instant," he seethed.

Clarette's jaw dropped. "Beckett..."

He looked at her, his pupils wide as his nostrils flared.

"You're jealous."

Beckett's eyes narrowed. "You're damn right I am."

Her gaze roved his face before she kissed him hard, her tongue brushing against his. "You have no reason to be. It's only you, you know that.” She stared deeply into his eyes, their breaths intermingling. “No one makes me feel like you do. I'm all yours."

The air surrounding them was electric as they stared at each other with intensity. She found herself short of breath; his fingers started trailing a path up her inner thigh before rubbing her through the soaked satin of her panties. Pushing the flimsy fabric to the side, he pressed a thick finger through her slick folds, the act making her buck against his hand.

"Is this all mine?" He growled lowly into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

A gasp escaped her while her arms wrapped tightly over his broad shoulders and around his neck. "Yes," she whispered, her voice husky. "It's all for you."

Beckett smirked triumphantly as he watched Clarette's eyes close in ecstasy, his fingers moving unhurriedly in and out of her most private area. She leaned her head forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder as he continued his ministrations. Her hips rocked against the rhythm of his hand, his thumb glazing her clit, nearly undoing her.

"Please don’t stop, Beckett," she whimpered, his actions taking her to the edge.

Beckett removed his hand much to her dismay, her lids opening with effort only to see him licking her juices off his digits.

"Ah, ah, ah... not yet," he teased, bringing his fingers to her lips. Slowly inserting them into her mouth, his jaw fell slightly as their eyes locked and she sucked on his fingers, tasting the remnants of her honey. He groaned as her tongue swirled over his fingertips, the feeling of her hot mouth shooting straight to his member. Removing his hand, he held her against the wall once more, his lips descending and capturing hers in a scorching kiss.

He ran his hand down her outfit, a guttural sound emanating from his throat in dissatisfaction at the amount of clothes she was wearing. Setting her leg back on the floor, he took a step back, missing the heat of her body instantly. His eyebrow arched in disapproval as he calculated how many buttons and hooks held her outfit together until a smug smile appeared on his face. With a flick of his hand, he summoned his Air Magick and unfastened all the contraptions simultaneously, her outfit falling away at the seams.

Clarette bit her bottom lip as the cool air hit her heated skin, her nipples stiff from both her arousal and the instant exposure. She felt herself flush from her sudden bareness, his traveling gaze accompanied by a lick of his lips.

Beckett leaned over and kissed her with abandon, one hand tangling in her hair. "Much better," he whispered, in between kisses as his fingers slid down from the curve of her neck to her breasts. He kneaded the soft mounds, his thumb running over her darkened buds, taking gratification of her body’s reaction to his touch. Breaking their kiss, he trailed an invisible path from her jaw to her neck with his lips, pausing momentarily to suck on her pulse point. He followed the tender act with a gentle bite, eliciting a gasp from her mouth. Continuing further, he traced his tongue down to the valley between her breasts, squeezing them together as he peppered her bosom with feathery kisses.

Clarette leaned back against the wall for support, her hands gently scratching the back of his neck as he slathered his attentions on her breasts. She gulped in pleasure at his attentiveness, writhing underneath his touch as the caresses of his touch turned greedy.

Beckett grazed her nipple with his teeth, causing her to yelp in surprise at the different sensation. He took the sensitive peak into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the dusky tip before gently sucking any pleasurable pain away. Squeezing one breast roughly, he flattened his tongue against her bud, his eyes looking up to gauge her reaction.

"Was that okay?" His smooth voice ghosted over her skin; his eyes focused on hers.

She met his gaze, nodding in silence. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her chest heaved as she watched him continue his southern route, her stomach flexing under his featherlight touch.

Clarette's breath caught as she watched Beckett kneel in front of her, looking up with an enticing glimmer in his eye and a devilish grin crossing his face. He slowly slid her panties down, exposing her mound to him. Lifting her right foot up, his lips lightly brushed the inside of her ankle before making the journey up her long leg. He kissed the hollow of her knee tenderly, knowing it was one of her sensitive spots that drove her wild. Inhaling deeply, he let out an appreciative moan while he traced the inside of her thigh with his tongue, lightly biting the expanse of silky skin before soothing it once again with his mouth. His other hand gently ran up and down the backside of her other leg, gently squeezing her ass in a nonsensical sequence before his long fingers grazed the inside of her thigh.

She swallowed thickly as he rested her leg over his broad shoulder, her center completely open to him alone. The anticipation of his mouth on her was making her so wet.

His eyes shot up once more, locking with hers before he delved in, giving her pussy a long, languid lick.

"Oh my God, Beckett!" she exclaimed, nearly losing her balance as he proceeded to bury his head between her legs, kissing her fully on her lips.

His strong hands held her steady as his arm wrapped over the leg on his shoulder, the other gripping her ass as he brought her even closer to his mouth. Her hands flew down to help her maintain her position, one clinging to his shoulder and the other landing on the hand on her leg, squeezing his fingers to let him know that she was thoroughly enjoying his attentions.

Clarette swore she could feel him smile as he squeezed back, encouraging her to ride his face as he explored her core with his mouth. She rolled her hips forward rhythmically, her breath leaving her in short, little huffs as she fucked Beckett's face. She nearly toppled over once more after he angled his head higher, his tongue now directly running over the hood of her clit. Pulling back briefly, he glossed two fingers up and down over her glistening slit, easily sliding into her tightness.

A strangled sob originated from her throat, her head falling back to rest against the wood paneling of the wall as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. He studied her face intently, loving how her eyes scrunched shut and her mouth fell open as he fingered her just the way he knew she liked it. Bringing his mouth to her again, he teased her mercilessly, tracing his tongue around her pearl in a slow, deliberate pattern, wanting to hear her beg for him.

“Beckett, stop teasing me,” she pleaded, grinding harder against him.

“Then tell me what you want,” removing his mouth, he replied with a whisper against her.

“You know what I want.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Her fist flew to her mouth, biting down on her knuckle after he ducked his head once more, tormenting her with a clever twist of his tongue.

“I want you to make me come,” she barely managed out, her head feeling like it was on the verge of exploding with desire.

With her magic words, he brushed her clit with his tongue, her center clenching around his fingers with his divine course of action. Starting slowly, he lapped at her nub without haste, fully tasting and savoring her essence. He gradually increased his tempo, flicking his tongue back and forth against her button, making her quiver as her legs trembled around his head, his name repeatedly leaving her lips.

“Please, I’m so close,” Clarette begged, so close to her release.

Beckett applied more pressure as he sped up his actions, licking her relentlessly and giving her no mercy in his quest to bring her to pure bliss. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around her bundle of nerves, willing her to come as he continued to fuck her with his fingers.

“Oh God, Beckett, I’m coming!” She cried out, her walls pulsing around his fingers as she screamed his name out in ecstasy.

He kept his mouth on her through her orgasm, not stopping his movements until she finished riding out her crest. Carefully, he withdrew and set her leg down, holding her upright as he kissed his way upwards, his firm hands holding her securely in case her knees buckled under her.

Breathing hard, she leaned into his body, unsure of her own ability to stand by herself. She was on a complete high; her mind was dizzy with her overpowering climax and she could feel her wetness dripping down her leg.

Beckett pressed his body to hers as he nuzzled her ear, his straining bulge rock hard against her abdomen. “I hope you realize I’m not even close to being done with you.”

Clarette groaned into his mouth as he kissed her hard, tasting herself on his lips, his tongue tangling with hers. He shrugged the blazer from his shoulders, her hands pulling his shirt out of his pants before trailing down and squeezing his thick arousal, making him shudder under her touch. Her fingers deftly undid his belt buckle as he tore his shirt off, their gazes never leaving each other once. She pushed his trousers and underwear down, freeing him from his constraints as he stepped out of them, his body now naked as hers. Wrapping her hands around his erection, she stroked him up and down, squeezing him before running her thumb over his tip.

Beckett shut his eyes and his brow crinkled in delicious agony as he rested his forehead against hers. Eating her out had turned him extremely on and the feeling of her touch almost unraveled him at that moment.

“You’re so hard,” she breathed, her hand rubbing his taut flesh.

In response, his lids opened as he grabbed her hands in one svelte move, pinning them above her head with one hand while pressing his body against hers.

“This is what you do to me, Clarette. I can barely control myself when I’m around you.” Leaning forward, he kissed her deeply, hooking his other hand under her thigh. “I need to fuck you right now.” Their eyes locked as he claimed her with one rough thrust, a deep groan escaping him as he buried his big, thick cock completely in her sopping heat.

“Beckett!!” Clarette screamed in pleasure as he stretched her out, filling her completely with each of his slow, deliberate, yet powerful strokes. Every jerk of his hips sent tremors throughout her entire body, the blood in her veins sparking with electricity. She wrapped her arms around his neck for leverage as he picked her other leg up, lifting her entirely off the ground, her body completely at his will.

Holding her against the wall, he increased his pace and fucked her senseless; the only thought going through his mind was how wet and tight she was and how damn good she felt surrounding him. He pumped upwards into her, the sounds of their bodies coming together combined with their moans to fill the room with a lustful symphony.

Clarette dug her nails into his back, leaving an array of red scratch marks as she held on to him, her body bouncing as he pounded her without inhibition. There was an air of recklessness about him and this was the most animalistic he had ever been with her. One thing was certain: She wanted more.

“Harder, Beckett. Fuck me harder,” she pleaded, a desperate tinge lacing her voice.

Beckett pushed her flush against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as his engorged length slammed into her sex repeatedly.

“You like that?” His voice was hoarse as he plunged into her, fully sheathing himself with each surge forward.

He elicited a stifled cry from her in response, her mouth by his ear. The sounds she was making was like a drug to him, urging him to drive even deeper into her. He could feel her pussy start to throb around his swollen dick, each clench threatening to undo the last of his control. Turning his head, he seized her lips with his as he pumped harder, the glow on her skin emerging once more.

Clarette felt like a coiled spring ready to snap, the tension within her nearly at a crescendo. Beckett slid his hand in between their sweat sheened bodies as he glided over her clit, pushing her towards another climax.

“Yes, just like that,” she panted, getting lost in the sensations he was giving her.

She clung onto him tightly as he rubbed her pearl with his thumb, going faster as he filled her over and over again with his thick shaft. He could feel his own release nearing as her walls started to pulsate around his throbbing cock, his entire universe revolving around him being in her and both their pleasure.

A strangled moan left her mouth as he hit her spot, her body tensing as waves of ecstasy washed over her. She came apart in his arms and the sensation of her pussy gripping his member was absolute heaven. Her body banged against the wall as he hammered into her, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he pinned her in place for his own indulgence. The ache was almost too much to bear. He could feel the tightness in his balls building, his orgasm quickly approaching as he fucked her at an even faster pace than before.

“Clarette, I’m coming!“ Beckett groaned, kissing her deeply as he finished.

With one final thrust, he came hard, his seed exploding in her. He stilled and his entire body was pressed against hers, his muscles tight as he panted for air. His head rolled forward, heavy, and rested on her shoulder as they both caught their breaths, not wanting to relinquish the high they were on.

Everything that happened earlier that day was now a distant memory. The only thing encompassing their thoughts and the only thing that mattered at that moment were each other.

Hours later in his bed, Clarette rested her head on Beckett's chest, her fingertips lightly tracing over his skin. She took a deep breath while listening to his steady heartbeat, the cadence relaxing her. Beckett ran his hand up and down her back, sending light shivers down her spine, a comfortable silence between them.

After a few moments, she exhaled, a crease on her eyebrow appearing as she propped herself up to look at him. "For what it's worth, Beckett, I'm really sorry."

Beckett furrowed his brow, bringing his thumb to her forehead to smooth out the worry line that was currently present. "Hey, sorry for what? You have nothing to apologize for."

"But that's the thing. There is. Earlier when we were talking about my stupid plan, I heard the words that you said, but I wasn't listening to what you were saying." She laid back down, wrapping her arm over him and snuggling closer.

"Mmmm," He expressed wordlessly as he drew her closer, kissing the top of her head, letting her continue.

"I know I act first and think later, which is totally opposite of what you do, and the plan in my head - "

"- Sounded good, I know."

“So yeah, I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

Beckett tilted her face up to look at him, giving her a peck on the temple. “I still stand by my opinion that you have nothing to be sorry for, but I do wish you would consider plans that do not constantly put you in danger.”

"I just want to get to the bottom of everything, you know?" She sighed, laying her head back down on him.

"I know, and I just want you to be safe. You have people who care about you.” He paused. “I really care deeply about you.”

Clarette stayed quiet, mulling over his words. She had heard these words before in what seemed like a lifetime ago; before Magick, before Penderghast, and before Beckett. The words and the boys attached to them were always full of false promises. But this time? She truly believed him.

“Clarette? I was about to ask you something, but I felt a tear…“ he trailed off, slightly alarmed.

She sat up and wiping the corner of her eye. Sure enough, there was a bead of moisture on her face and its remnants his chest.

Sitting up to join her, her cupped her cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb while looking at her intently. “Is everything alright?” he asked, concerned.

Clarette gazed into his eyes, his feelings for her unmistakable. She smiled, placing her hand over the hand on her cheek. “Yeah, it actually is. I just zoned out thinking about the past and how sometimes all of this is overwhelming. But I’m so lucky that I have you by my side through it all.”

He exhaled; relief apparent on his face. “And you will always have me by your side, whenever you need me. Even if you don’t need me, I’ll be there, too. In fact,” his ears started to turn red as he cleared his throat, “I would like to officially be there, by your side. That is, if you would like that, as well,”

She looked at him, a stunned expression on her face before it turned into a smile that rivaled the sun itself. "Beckett Harrington, are you asking me to go steady? To be official?"

“Well, when you put it that way, yes.”

“To be your girlfriend?” She pressed, a glimmer in her eye.

“Yes, I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.” Beckett’s face was beet red. "Please, Clarette. Don't make me regret asking this," he teased, a grin creeping onto his face.

She bolted forward, planting her lips on his as they fell back onto his bed. Their nude bodies molded against each other, limbs intertwining as they made out.

Beckett rolled them over until he was on top, pulling back as he brushed the hair off her face. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he smirked.

Clarette cupped his jaw, trailing her hand down to his neck before resting it at his nape. “Yes. As if it ever was a question,” she beamed before bringing him in for a kiss. “Though honestly, it’s taken you long enough!”

Beckett laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Well then, I suppose I should make it up to you.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I’m sure I can think of a few ways,” he replied, placing kisses down her body.

She writhed under his touch, her body temperature rising as he spread her legs in an unhurried fashion.

With a placating grin, Beckett kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. “Ah, Clarette, you should know by now, you should never underestimate me.” With that, he lowered his head and spent the rest of the night and the next morning making up the lost time to his new girlfriend.

#beckett harrington fanfic #beckett x mc #the elementalists #beckett harrington #beckett harrington fanfiction #beckett harrington x mc #playchoices fanfic #playchoices #choices fanfic #choices #scg writes

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lokimostly · 6 years ago

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Rainy Days (Ch. 3/6)

James Conrad x Reader Word Count: 1,735 Warnings: description of injury Fic Summary: When Captain James Conrad shows up unexpected at your army outpost in eastern Vietnam, both your lives turn upside down. And whether you want to or not, he’s not the kind of man you forget about.

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

A/N: Sorry this took so long! So much in my life happened between the last chapter and this one. It’s a bit below my normal word count, but it’s really just a filler chapter, so... better late than never, I guess.

Tag list is still open! <3

You ducked under the flap of the medical tent, feeling relieved. You were finally where you were supposed to be. Everything was untouched from the night before, beds made and tabletops organized.

At least this is one thing I can count on, you thought, relieved.

“Y/L/N!”

You jumped, spinning around to face the base Commander. He was a tall, bald man with olive skin and huge shoulders, who looked every bit like his title. His jaw was set in a displeased scowl, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

The sense of relief you’d felt only seconds ago now disappeared into your boots. You quickly saluted before dropping your hand and stammering. “Sir, I-I can explai–”

He shook his head, silencing you. “None of that. Exhaustion gets to the best of us, but you chose a hell of a bad day to sleep in.”

You blinked a few times, nodding your head. So he didn’t know. “What’s going on, Commander?”

“Injured men from the northern front. Two died on the way here,” he responded, stepping towards you and looking down. “They’ll be here in minutes. The truck is coming directly to this tent. I’ve already sent men from other trucks past our encampment and further south because you, Y/L/N, our only base nurse, was M.I.A.”

“Physician,” you whispered, tucking your hair back. You could feel your face burning with embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. I’ll do my best, sir.”

“You’d better,” he snapped. You saluted him as he left the tent, leaving you for a single moment in stifling silence. Barely enough time to think, but just enough to let you feel the tremendous guilt twisting your insides into knots.

Knowing that there was nothing better to do than get to work, you sighed and pulled on your gloves. You could hear the rumble of the truck as it was coming up the path- no doubt the driver was having trouble getting through the mud.

Your mind wandered vaguely back to Conrad, but you snapped yourself out of it in an instant.

“Honestly, Y/N,” you scolded yourself quietly, just before the car stopped outside the tent and several pairs of boots hit the ground.

“Inside! Come on!” You heard, and you ran to the tent opening, holding up the flap as two men carried an injured soldier inside. His leg was a bloody mess, wounded near the femoral artery and losing blood fast.

“I need a tourniquet!” You shouted, taking over for one of the men lowering him onto the cot. “In the drawer! Go!”

He followed your direction, running to the table and rummaging through the containers, trying to find something suitable.

“Ma’am, I can’t find anything—“ he began.

“May I be of assistance?” Captain Conrad asked, ducking under the tent flap and striding over. “I’m here for my check-up, but…”

“Tourniquet,” You interrupted bluntly as you stripped the wounded soldier, revealing the awful wound.

Conrad looked between you and the soldier for a single moment before reaching down and ridding himself of his shirt, tearing it into long strips and leaving his muscular chest entirely uncovered. His own wound stretched from collarbone to hip in a diagonal line, partly bandaged and terribly inflamed. But you didn’t have time for that now.

“Here,” he said, offering the white cloth to you. You took it wordlessly and tied the tourniquet around the soldier’s thigh, ignoring the warm blood on your hands, the clamor around you, and the irritatingly handsome man who was watching you work.

As you tied it off, you looked up for a second, and caught his hazel-green eyes with your gaze. His hair was bedraggled, expression soft, and in that tiny, intimate moment, you swallowed your pride and mouthed “thank you.”

He smiled.

The tent was finally quiet again. Rain fell from the sky, lighter than the downpour from last night– barely a drizzle. The pitter-patter against the roof of the tent was soothing as you worked on Conrad’s wound, which had bled through the bandage and was now in need of stitches.

Your hands worked seamlessly as you cleaned the wound, ignoring the twitch of his muscles when he winced reflexively.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” he said, surprising you after working in silence for so long. It wasn’t a harsh interruption by any means- his deep, accented voice was pleasant and warm.

Your fingers faltered for a moment before you raised your eyebrows and pulled away, turning to reach for thread.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed, threading the needle with the black thread and glancing up at him. You were surprised to see that his chiseled face held genuine honesty, and his hazel-green eyes were soft and apologetic.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he began. You raised an eyebrow as you began sewing the wound shut.

“It’s just that—” he hissed in pain when your needle pierced his skin “—if you weren’t American, and we had been caught, you would have suffered a more severe punishment than me.”

You kept working, flickering your gaze up to his face but saying nothing.

“... I didn’t want that to happen,” he continued. “And I only asked if we’d done anything because—“

“Because you don’t want me on your record?” You interrupted, bitterness seeping into your voice.

Instead of arguing, he reached down and took your hand gently, holding it against his heart.

“Quite the opposite,” Conrad admitted quietly. His eyes were deep and bright. Was it just you, or did his chiseled cheekbones have a tinge of pink in them?

“I was afraid…” he said, trailing off before starting again. “I was afraid I’d got off on the wrong foot with you. Because truly, you are stunning, and- and— capable, and—“

“I get it,” You interrupted, biting your lip to stop yourself from smirking. You were fully content to listen to a lengthy apology.

He chuckled, letting out a sigh. “I’m not sure you do.” His eyebrows pulled together in a tentative, quizzical look. “I want to get it right with you. God knows I truly do.”

You chewed your lip and lowered your eyes, thinking long and hard. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. It was strong, steady. Despite the humid air of the jungle around you, he smelled vaguely smoky, like the aftertaste of cologne and firewood.

Oh, what the hell.

You pulled your hand away from his chest and stuck it out in front of him instead, looking at him with a stubborn expression. Conrad’s eyes flickered from your hand to your face before he took it gently, giving it one firm shake.

“I forgive you,” you whispered, and a smile of relief blossomed on both your faces. “Now let me finish this stitching.”

Night had fallen on the camp, and brought with it clear, starry skies. Since none of the newly arrived soldiers saw any reason to spend the night inside their camp, they set up a campfire, and many others had joined them.

Once you’d finished cleaning the medical tent, you decided to go along as well. Pulling on your military jacket, and tying up your hair, you exited the tent and walked over. Your footsteps were muted by the dry, dusty ground, now devoid of any water from a few hours before. The laughter of the soldiers could be heard even from across the camp, guiding you to your destination.

As you approached the firelight you notices the many silhouettes of people sitting on barrels and crates, even crouched on the ground by the firelight. Your countenance dropped a little as you realized there was really no where to sit – you might as well go back to your tent.

You turned around to leave when, amidst the general murmur of conversation, someone spoke.

“Y/L/N, come here.”

You spin around and see Conrad smiling, his arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning against a crate with an unoccupied space. You gave him a relieved grin and made your way over, weaving in and out until you found your way to his side. You hopped onto the crate, sidling up next to him, leaning on his shoulder and sticking your hands out towards the fire to warm them.

“thanks for saving me a spot,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” he replied, uncrossing his arms and leaning against you, one hand supporting him behind your back. “Think nothing of it.”

But you were definitely thinking of it.

In fact, you would continue to think of nothing but him for the next two weeks. Conrad was a bright patch of color in your unchanging, black-and-white world. While your other medical duties, surgeries, and checkups left you exhausted, his visits to the tent were pleasant and refreshing. You weren’t surprised to find that he had a humorous and easy-going side underneath the military bravado. It was a relief; usually the men you met had been so washed out by war that bravado was all they had.

You soon found that your thoughts drifted to him more often than not. The words in your books reminded you of him, and every broad-shouldered man you passed made you look twice to make sure it wasn’t the familiar British SAS officer, on his way to see you.

It was only until unexpected news reached your ears that you were inclined to think of anything else.

You were sitting inside your tent in the late hours of the night, poring over a book on ancient medicinals, when there was a noise outside your tent, and through it came your camp messenger.

You straightened up, quickly brushing a loose strand of hair back and raising your eyebrows quizzically. You never received letters. “Yes?”

The messenger reached into his bag and pulled out a thin piece of paper, thrice-folded, and handed it to you. “Orders from the General in Saigon.”

You took the paper gently, holding it as though it might bite you. You muttered a thank you as he left and the tent flap fell behind him, while you carefully unfolded the yellow pamphlet and scanned over the neatly typed letters. With every word your heart fell, as you realized what it would mean.

You were being relocated to the DMZ.

A/N: Tag list is still open! Thanks for reading <3

Tag List: @duranie100theunionofthesnake, @brendas94, @darkprincessloki92, @fire-in-her-veinz, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi, @villainsaremorerelatable, @xletmetaste-yoursmilex, @marvelrose, @courtney-thevixeniris1, @laggyphone, @holacherrycola90, @jessiejunebug, @squeakymean, @laufxsyn, @luracantspell

#conrad x reader #james conrad #james conrad x reader #james conrad fanfic #kong: skull island #king kong #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #fluff #slow burn #vietnam

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ganymedesclock · 8 years ago

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We Wayward Stars ch. 4

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Summary: Altean Lance fic. Things begin to hit the fan. Orbital reentry included.

Several people are standing. A few of them are hunched over their computers, still- most of them are looking up at the larger monitor.

Everything is normal. Within bounds. As predictable and neat as anything can be observing the moon of a planet at the edge of the solar system.

Nothing is wrong, except the fact that three people and their entire ship should be there. Or, in fact, anything, except a single bored hole to suggest anyone was there to drill an ice core in the first place.

“Think the kid could tell us about it?”

Iverson’s good eye doesn’t pull away from the monitor.

“I mean, the alien one.”

“I know which kid you mean,” he grinds out, with about as much patience as he can manage at that point. “What do you think he’s going to tell us? There’s an empty moon where two of our best men and a promising cadet used to be?”

The officer shrinks a bit at his tone- but holds strong. They’re all stressed. It’s hard to talk to anyone in this room without running into sharp edges of some kind. “He mentioned he was fleeing something, right? And we got an energy spike from 01 the same day they missed their first check-in.”

“Or we can try not to make baseless guesses about something we clearly don’t understand.”

Another person speaks up, quietly. “So we’re lying to the general public and pinning the blame on one of the victims.” She doesn’t pull her eyes away from her station.

“You do me a favor, you find Shirogane alive and get a better explanation for what happened, I’ll personally apologize to him and everyone else. In the meantime I’d like to avoid a global panic.”

The woman doesn’t lift her head to meet his eyes, but her tone is distinctly drawn taut when she says “Yes, sir.”

It’s only years of muscle memory in military posture that keeps him from deflating. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like someone to explain how a thirteen-year-old broke into my office this morning.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Working towards fighter class takes up a lot more time than he expected, which ultimately, works out very much in Lance’s advantage.

Space travel is imperfect. Earth is doing its best, but they don’t have… anything, really. It makes sense not everyone is going to make it out. And he knows already that he can’t help with that from his current situation.

He hadn’t known Shiro as much as he had Sam, but it was enough to know that he’d been an incredible guy. Charming, polite- and incredibly good at what he did. You didn’t get where he was at 24 without something going for you.

And now they were gone. Just like that. And the worst part was afterwards; more or less the entire Garrison campus moving back to business.

He can’t even begrudge them. He’s doing the same himself.

Hunk disagrees, considering the number of times Lance talks him into sneaking out of the Garrison- but sometimes he just has to get away from it all, and the least he can do is spread the joy a little.

A few times, he seriously debates sneaking in to see Blue. He could probably just ask the Garrison, but another part of him resents that. She doesn’t belong to them. Ultimately, it doesn’t come to anything- he’s occupied, and stays that way.

Keith disappears. The instructors call it a discipline issue. Rumors abound about a fight. A few of them insist he put someone in the hospital- stabbed them, even. A lot of it just sounds like gossip, and Lance isn’t interested in poking around. Either way, it stands that his dorm room is empty within a day, and no one afterwards seems to have any idea where he went.

A week later, Lance makes fighter class. He gloats about it- but there’s a bitter aftertaste to it.

He knows who that spot belonged to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simulator class proves to be simultaneously the greatest and worst thing that has happened to Lance since arriving on Earth. The first time everything lights up in a field of stars, it doesn’t feel like a fake ship. It doesn’t feel like a pretend assignment. He can’t even listen to what he’s supposed to be doing- Hunk, and the other student they’re paired with, some fourteen-year-old whiz kid- because he’s back out there.

It feels almost like home.

And then the ship crashes.

Well, no. That’s avoiding the issue.

And then he crashes the ship.

Iverson makes it very, very clear after the fact whose fault that was.

Excuses clatter ineffectively around Lance’s head for hours afterwards. The controls are wrong. He’s out of practice. That’s not how space works.

None of them actually make it out his mouth.

He resolves to try harder. Cautiously. Manages a few good exercises, and more bad ones. It’s never completely easy, never completely like what he’s used to- and he’s not alone in the ship. He butts heads with Hunk, and the other one- Pidge, which he swears is some type of Earth bird. Who names their kid after a bird?

So-and-so Gunderson, apparently.

Outside of being fourteen, a few things stick out about Pidge. He’s squirrely around the instructors sometimes- but that doesn’t stop him from yelling at them from time to time. After a while, a particular subject emerges that seems to be the target of almost every one of Pidge’s outbursts.

Kerberos.

The failed mission.

He still hadn’t talked to Iverson about it. Hadn’t been sure what to say. You don’t lead a conversation about someone else’s loss with ‘jeez you humans sure are bad at space, am I right’.

(Especially considering his track record with the simulator)

But it feels like there’s something to say. Earth is a galaxy over from what’s considered civilized space- it’s a fringe planet if there ever was one- but if one of the Lions is here, someone should’ve come by now. An Altean scout ship, or…

Lance puts down the book he’d been trying to read the entire time. “Hey Hunk, how do you feel about having a night on the town?”

“You mean sneaking out again? After we just got chewed out by Commander Iverson? No, great, I love it, just two guys getting in trouble for like the eighth time this semester alone.”

“Well, it won’t be just us. It’ll be-”

“Oh no,”

“Team building.”

Hunk sighs, deeply, picking up his vest from where he left it. “Has it occurred to you we can bond doing other things? Things that won’t get us in trouble?” He takes a moment longer to find his boots. “Like, I dunno, group study session.”

Navigating the hallways at this point is easy enough, even taking a detour to try and get to Pidge’s dorm. It’s not even enough to keep Hunk from continuing to complain, though he keeps his voice down after the lights shut off.

“...start an agate collection. Get fast food sometime. Of course by ‘get fast food’ I mean let me make you something that isn’t overcooked garbage but y’know-”

“Shh!” He hesitates at Hunk’s brief, affronted look- sorry buddy, it’s for a cause- and then pokes his head around the corner, just in time to catch a retreating flash of orange sneakers.

…Looked like Pidge had other plans for tonight. But now, so did Lance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You come up here to rock out?”

There’s a moment where Pidge defies gravity by sheer force of surprise. He shuffles clumsily in place- feet together, hands in his lap, somehow trying not to look suspicious. “Oh. Lance. Hunk. No, uh, just looking at the stars.”

An appraising eye sweeps over the miscellaneous scattered hardware. “Where did you get this stuff? It doesn’t look like Garrison tech.” Insofar as his knowledge of human anything goes.

“I built it.”

“You built all of this?” There’s a thread of awe in Hunk’s tone- it’s hard to say how much Pidge appreciates it, because he definitely doesn’t appreciate the questing fingers heading for the keyboard.

“With this thing, I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system.”

He plays at considering it- as if he just picks the thought out of thin air: “That right? All the way to Kerberos?”

He watches Pidge fold away from the name.

“You go ballistic every time the instructors bring it up. What’s your deal?”

Silence- except telling Hunk off for touching something again. Time passes. Too much. After a moment, Lance sits down, cross-legged. “Hey, we’re not leaving anytime soon.” Partially because he doesn’t think he could tear Hunk away from that setup if he tried to- out of the corner of his eye Lance can see him inching towards the screen again.

“Fine.” Pidge turns to face them both, an odd expression of gravity. “The world as you know it is… about to change. The Kerberos mission wasn’t lost because of some malfunction or crew mistake.”

Oh he’s just decided he really doesn’t like where this is going.

“…So I’ve been scanning the system, and picking up alien radio chatter.”

“What have you been hearing?”

Both Hunk and Pidge are staring at him, but he doesn’t really care. Suddenly, the peaceful blips on the two screens don’t seem nearly so much of an idle curiosity. He makes a grab for the headphones.

Pidge finds his voice first. “Lance, what the hell?”

“Depending on who’s talking, this entire planet could be in big trouble.” The headphones are halfway to his ears when a much smaller hand catches his wrist.

Perplexed hazel eyes are studying him sharply. “What do you know about this?”

He forces himself to breathe. Lowers the headphones. If Pidge is right, there’s a whole solar system they could be in. There’s no guarantee they’re heading for Earth now. Yet.

“…How much trouble are we talking here?” Hunk ventures into the silence.

“I mean a fleet. Maybe not the entire thing. They might not even know I’m here. It’s been over a year-” Maybe it’s not Zarkon. Maybe it’s a friend. Maybe they’re trying to hail. “Pidge, I’m serious, what have they been saying?”

“...Well, I haven’t been able to make heads or tails out of a lot of it, but, there’s been one word that keeps repeating.” Pidge rummages at their notes. “Voltron.”

“…Quiznak.”

“What?”

“It’s like a swear word,” Hunk clarifies; Lance tones him out, stumbling to his feet.

Pidge twists in place. “Where are you going?”

“Commander Iverson needs to know about this.” He makes it about two steps to the stairs when the sirens go off- the campus is going into lockdown. Or he already knows about it.

He barely has time to process before Hunk is pointing out something.

Something coming down from the sky.

Pidge holds up binoculars for a moment. “…Lance, were you serious about a fleet?”

There’s a dark speck in the center of the fire. He swipes the binoculars, not paying much attention as Pidge comes along for the ride.

“…That’s too small to be a cruiser. Way too fast.” He waits for them to pull up, slow down. It nosedives into the ground instead, impacts with a brilliant flash.

Pidge is already gathering his stuff as furiously as he can go. Lance doesn’t wait, but runs for the door. “Hunk, c’mon!”

He doesn’t know who’s coming down but he has to meet them.

And oh god he wants to be wrong about who sent that ship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s not. By the time he’s gotten there, the Garrison has beat him to it- there’s a tent set up, surrounded by guards and people. But it’s altogether too easy to see the faintly glowing pod already tied down for transport.

Pidge hesitates, watching him at an angle before broaching the subject. “Do you… recognize that?”

“Yeah. Bad news.”

He slides down the slope easily- the guard standing closest to the entrance spots him, trains their rifle in his direction. “Stay where you are!”

He pushes something out through his teeth that’s more irritated huff than meditation breath and shifts.

The guard flinches. A hasty conversation passes on radio- Lance could nearly pick it up, but he’s distracted when a faint chorus of scraping noises signals that Pidge, then, after a moment, Hunk, have joined him. They stay behind him when he approaches the quarantine unit.

“Look, you-” even with face concealed, the guard is sizing him up, nervously. “Nobody’s getting in here. Commander Iverson’s orders. That means you, too. You’re not even supposed to be here.”

With a distinct thread of palace hauteur, Lance squares his shoulders. “That’s a Galra pod. The ship that launched it isn’t going to be that far behind. So either you can go tell Commander Iverson that, or you can get out of my way and let me do it. You know, like we agreed I was supposed to if something like this happened.”

“And what about them?” They take a hand off the weapon to motion over his shoulder.

Hunk is looking distinctly uncomfortable- not the normal kind, the ‘this is a bad idea but I’m going along with it because you’re you, Lance’ but genuinely unnerved, and a pang of guilt hits Lance hard.

Pidge meets his eyes, brows knit together over them. Spindly hands are balled tightly into fists. It looks as if they’re caught somewhere between ‘please’ and ‘don’t you dare’.

With a bravado that Lance doesn’t remotely feel, he sweeps back around to face the instructor. “They’re with me.”

Faceplate notwithstanding, he can feel the guard’s incredulous look. He refuses to let his own waver, until the guard breaks away from him to talk on the radio. It’s a very short conversation, something he’s not sure if he finds heartening or dispiriting.

Either way, he doesn’t get to hear the answer.

Because right then, something explodes.

#voltron legendary defender #vld #Lance #Altean Lance #fanfiction #We Wayward Stars #readmore #Ganymede Fic Tag

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heldstars · 4 years ago

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tag drop: hazel cross

#CH › HAZEL CROSS: ABOUT #CH › HAZEL CROSS: AESTHETIC #CH › HAZEL CROSS: ANSWERED #CH › HAZEL CROSS: CLOSET #CH › HAZEL CROSS: HEADCANON #CH › HAZEL CROSS: LIKES #CH › HAZEL CROSS: OPEN #CH › HAZEL CROSS: SHIPPING CALL #CH › HAZEL CROSS: STARTER CALL #CH › HAZEL CROSS: THREADS #CH › HAZEL CROSS: VISAGE #CH › HAZEL CROSS: WANTS #CH › HAZEL CROSS: WISHLIST #CH › HAZEL CROSS: MAIN ( VERSE )

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bornsoft · 4 years ago

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holistichealingnatural · 8 years ago

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New Post has been published on http://holistichealingnatural.com/how-turmeric-can-help-you-in-facial-ingrown-hair-removal-ingrown-hair-treatment/

How Turmeric can help you in Facial ingrown Hair removal - ingrown hair Treatment

Facial hairs are a great obstacle for improvement of a women’s beauty giving an attractive look. The tender temporary approaches in removing unwanted facial hairs like threading, plucking, waxing or laser treatment are familiar to us. These methods may cause skin allergies making your skin look slack, and in some circumstances they even make hairs grow at a faster percentage. So natural remedies are always safe and cost effectual too for hair removals.

Get rid of facial hair with turmeric:

Turmeric is a zest most often used to add color and flavor to mustard, soups, sauces and Indian cuisine. A question often raises that,can turmeric remove hair?The yellow spice may seem like a weird beauty aid, but it has long been used to remove unwanted hair and constrain hair growth. Although turmeric can be said as an effective solution in the removal of unwanted hair. Most beneficial thing is that, you can purchase facial quality turmeric in markets at very affordable prices. From previous observations and examination we can use turmeric for unwanted hair exclusion.

REMOVE DENSE HAIR WITH TURMERIC?

For hairs that are more denser, you’ll want to add to the above mix whichever ground oats or gram flour. It should be applied in the same manner as the above remedy. Use it for at least eight days to see noticeable results.It’s common to begin seeing hair fall out within a couple of days. If you’re using turmeric to remove unwanted hair, you should also consider making changes to your diet that will boost estrogen and lower testosterone.

TURMERIC FOR FACIAL HAIR REMOVAL:

Now we are familiarizing you with recipe of hair removal with turmeric and salt. You’ll need 5 tbsp of sea salt and 6 tbsp of ground turmeric. Take 5 tbsp of milk (nut or animal) or rose water, swell it to the powder mix till it produces a paste. Before applying the mixture, wash your face with a natural soap, like black soap or coconut soap. Then pat dry using a towel and apply the mix to the area where you want hair removed.

Recipe’s for turmeric hair removal:

There are numerous approaches for turmeric use, which are dependent upon whether the hairs you’re trying to eliminate are dense or thin. Underneath are recipes and using methods of turmeric for facial hair removal, dense hair removal, how to make turmeric paste and Cleansing Turmeric Face Scrub.

Turmeric Paste:

This is fairly an easy method as you only need 2 ingredients—some turmeric powder and entire milk.

Procedure: Simply mix 3 teaspoons turmeric powder with 1 teaspoon milk. Take everything composed till it forms thick paste. Next, spread the paste evenly on the area you want. Make assured that you smear the paste in the same way as your hair growth. Leave it on for some time or until dry. Subsequently, use a clean dry washcloth to scrub your skin. Make sure you use mild circular motions to eliminate the paste. With consistent application of this turmeric paste, you will see results in a few months.

Cleansing Turmeric Face Scrub:

This thick paste is fairly active with some persistent or heavy facial hair. Cross wise use of turmeric for unwanted hair, this paste has cleansing possessions, which helps to Sack your face and skin of bacteria and further impurities.

Procedure:Combine 1 teaspoon of turmeric powder, 2 tablespoons of milk, and 1 tablespoon of gram flour. Smear the paste in the bearing of the hair growth. However, make sure to scrub in the opposite direction.

How long does turmeric take to remove hair:

Above mentioned remedies aren’t the fastest, but these are all-natural and safe, compared to laser hair removal and chemical products .Apply the upstairs recipes mixture, where you want hair removed. Then allow it to sit for some time before rinsing it off with cool water. Use witch hazel to help remove the yellow staining the turmeric will cause.Now, repeat this process daily at least a week for better turmeric hair removal results. You can store the remaining mixture in the refrigerator.

Will turmeric stop hair growth?

Turmeric is permanent hair removal (but it’s wanted takes time to work permanently).Turmeric can be used for unwanted facial hair, as well as hair on other parts of the body, such as the underarms, arms and legs. The way turmeric mechanisms are by slowing down hair growth. So over time, with continued use, you will notice that your hair won’t grow back as quickly and will eventually stop growing altogether because turmeric reduces hair growth.

Turmeric hair removal reviews:

Some people have reported allergic reactions to turmeric, especially after skin exposure. Beside very effective uses of turmeric body hair removal, using much amount of turmeric can be harmful for you.Stereotypically this is practiced as a mild, prickly and hasty. Furthermore, high doses of turmeric have been pragmatic to cause:

Nausea

Diarrhea

Increased risk of bleeding

Increased liver function tests

Hyperactive gallbladder contractions

Hypotension (lowered blood pressure)

Uterine contractions in pregnant women

Increased menstrual flow

#can turmeric remove hair #get rid of facial hair with turmeric #hair removal with turmeric and salt #ingrown hair #turmeric body hair #turmeric for facial hair removal #turmeric hair removal permanent #turmeric hair removal results #turmeric hair removal reviews #turmeric reduces hair growth #turmeric to remove unwanted hair #use turmeric for unwanted hai #will turmeric stop hair growth?#Beauty Remedies

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let-me-love-you-loki · 5 years ago

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The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch. 5

A/N: Written with the wonderful, amazing @mox-made-me-do-it. Please forgive us. This chapter is LONG.

Chapter 5: Everyone

Leigh

“Did you see how Kenny was looking at you?” Allie asked as we stood in the bathroom getting ready for dinner with the buys. Each of us had our own mirror and sink, but habit had us sharing one. She grinned at me in the mirror while she took her time wrapping my hair around her curling wand.

I dusted finishing powder over my cheeks and glanced into her hazel eyes. She’d already done her hair. As soon as she was done with mine, I’d get to work on her makeup. For a moment, it felt like we were still in college, sharing a room in the Zeta Tau house.

“It was shock. That’s all it was,” I replied.

She rolled her eyes. “Leelee, that man looked like he was going to fall straight over the rail when you took off that robe. His eyes were going to pop out of his head.” Allie put the curling wand down on its mat and ran her hands through the curls, separating them and pinning them into a tumble of red down my back. “And he’s going to die when he sees you tonight. If he isn’t speechless, I’ll eat that makeup sponge.”

I laughed and took a look at Allie’s handiwork, turning my head from one side to the other. The natural-looking curls fell down toward the center of my back. “You are a magician, Als.”

Her lips pressed against my temple. “Because I’ve got an amazing subject. Now get up so you can do my makeup.”

I stood and let her take the seat. She tipped her head up and batted her eyes at me. I grinned. “I wish I had your skin, Allie. You hardly need makeup at all.”

“You’ve said that since college,” she replied. “I’m surprised you haven’t murdered me and stolen it yet.”

“Why do you think we’re here…”

We fell into giggles as I did her makeup. She really was one of those girls who was gifted with perpetually perfect skin. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a pimple. I suppose that’s why I got so good at doing makeup—I had a lot of imperfections to cover up.

Once we finished with hair and makeup, we sat cross-legged on the big bed, the plate of fruit between us and the champagne on the nightstand. We each had a glass in hand, staring out the is-it-really-there window at the water as the sun began to sink behind the mountain. I wondered if she could hear my heart beating like a drum in my chest.

“This wasn’t the plan,” I said with a nervous grin, sipping my glass.

Allie leaned back against the pillows, smiling with a little more confidence. “Nothing ever goes to plan, Leelee. You should know that by now.”

I shrugged and looked at my phone. “It’s almost time. I suppose we should get dressed.”

We hopped off the bed and walked into the closet for our bags. Once we’d pulled ourselves away from the guys on the deck, we went through our bags, found our dress outfits, and hung them up to get the wrinkles out. I opened the closet and grinned.

“I absolutely love this dress,” I said, pulling Allie’s outfit from the closet and holding it out to her. It was a wine red off-shoulder minidress with a wide V-shaped drape that hung down from the neckline. She had the courage and the coloring to wear it. It looked great with her blonde hair.

She took the dress and turned in a circle, holding the dress up against her before slipping into the bathroom to change. I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like we hadn’t been naked in front of each other before. My heart started to pound a little harder as I slipped on my royal blue floral wrap dress. It tied in a knot on left ribs, and had tied ribbons on the three-quarter sleeves. I actually felt pretty in it.

I slipped on a pair of sandals and picked up my travel purse from the counter. Allie was already waiting for me in the living room of the bungalow. I grinned and followed her to the door. As soon as she pulled it shut, I reached for her hand. She threaded her fingers with mine and we started down the pier toward the gazebo hand in hand. It was visible at the end of the pier, the bannisters and posts wrapped in fairy lights.

A table had been set up in the center of the gazebo, set with places for four. The benches around the edges had been draped in flowers. And standing at the entrance—in tennis shoes, gym shorts, and muscle tank tops—were Adam and Kenny.

Allie and I looked at one another, grinning as we realized we were really overdressed.

Allie

The boys stood side-by-side, their arms crossed over their chests. As soon as they saw us, they looked at one another sheepishly. “Oh my goodness, y'all,” I exclaimed, looking at the flowers that spilled over the gazebo benches. I could hear my Alabama accent showing through the excitement. “You guys are just too much. Look at all these flowers!”

Adam and Kenny stood there in shock. I grinned softly and pulled Leigh toward the table, squeezing past the boys. As we passed by, I could sense them giving us the once over.

“We should have dressed up, Hangman,” Kenny said as he slipped into place to hold out a chair for Leigh. “We aren't dressed to receive the beauty before us.”

Adam quickly followed behind, pulling out a chair for me. “You, sir, are one hundred percent correct. These lovely ladies are incredibly out of our league.” He grinned, blue eyes sparkling. “Hopefully, they won't hold it against us.”

Leigh bumped me in the shoulder and laughed. “Basketball shorts and muscle shirts are a good look on you guys. Trust me… we don’t mind.” I could feel my face turning beet red. She was right… I definitely didn’t mind the view of their beautifully muscled arms. It was easy to think about what I couldn’t see.

And I was certain Leigh was doing the exact same thing.

A server in the hotel uniform appeared as if on cue. We ordered drinks from the menu on the table—a Diet Coke for Kenny, Jack and Coke for Adam, and Malibu Cranberries for us—and spent a moment or two looking at our food options. But dinner was an easy decision—bacon wrapped filet mignon with mashed sweet potatoes and asparagus—all around. While we waited, we made small talk about what lead us to Bora Bora.

“I still can't believe you guys upgraded your reservation just to be close to us. You know that's insane, right?” I teased with a smile and a wink to Adam.

“Well, we heard honeymoon suite and all-inclusive, and we were intrigued. Do you two usually get that when you go on vacation?” Adam asked, quirking an eyebrow as he smiled and laughed. He had his elbow on the table, drink in his hand, as he leaned forward to talk to us.

I sat there suddenly wishing that I were invisible. That the world to swallow me whole. How was I supposed to explain this and not burst into tears? Leigh reached over and took my hand when she saw the color fade from my face. Adam’s smile slipped quickly.

How do I explain this? I thought. Do I smile and laugh and play it off? Or do I let someone see me?

“Well, that's because this was supposed to be my honeymoon,” I said quietly, staring into the napkin laying in my lap. “I caught my ex in bed with my P.A. about a week ago and cancelled the wedding. Leelee was already on her way to L.A. for work and the wedding.”

I sat there quietly for a moment, not really knowing what to say. My friend squeezed my fingers and I felt a jolt of courage. “So, instead of a honeymoon, we decided a girls’ trip was the best way to escape reality for a little while. And since I already paid for the honeymoon suite, we thought, why not? Wouldn't be the first time we shared a bed.”

Leigh bumped me gently, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Als, you know as well as I do that Jon’s dumb ass didn’t deserve you anyway. Besides… you’re way hotter and more amazing than Renee could ever be, babes.”

“Hell yeah you are!” Adam chimed in quickly. “If he doesn't see that, it's his loss. Sounds like a real asshole to me. I mean, I've barely taken my eyes off of you since you boarded the plane.”

Kenny nodded in agreement with a kind smile. I had to admit that it was a rush to have someone think I was attractive. God knew Jon had flushed my self-esteem down the toilet. They were so nice and quickly changed the subject. “So, what do you ladies do for a living?” Kenny asked, leaning against the table and taking a drink of Diet Coke.

“Well, we own a film production company,” Leigh explained, giving me a moment to silence my thoughts. “It's kinda small, but we have some big things coming that we are really excited about.”

“Oh, yeah? Which one?” Adam queried. “Done anything we would have seen?”

“AlsLee Entertainment. I'm Als. She’s Lee,” I explained, feeling more in control of my emotions. “We are based out of North Carolina, but I work out of L.A. to be close to the talent pool. Leelee does the screenplays and location scouting. We’ve produced a couple TV shows out of Wilmington, but nothing that’s gotten beyond a season or two on the CW.”

Leigh told the story of freshman orientation, how we met and all the late nights we shared over a decade of friendship. “We never had eye candy like you two in school, though,” she said with grin. “Cowboy over there would have been a busy guy.” She shot a wink at him over her glass.

Adam grinned back and blushed just a little. He looked a little full of himself, and I had to admit it was adorable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kenny's jaw clench… I knew that look. Jealousy. I would have to talk to him later about that. Leigh was friendly, and she was a flirt, but I knew good and well that she really only had eyes for Kenny.

We all sat, ate, and laughed as night fell and the stars appeared in the skies. The drinks were flowing, and everything was so well. The four of us had demolished everything the server put in front of us. “Glad you ladies didn't listen to your sorority sisters about pregaming before a date,” Kenny said, blue eyes crinkling when he smiled at Leigh.

She looked away from him, fumbling with her napkin, turning redder than my dress. Just then, a different man in a hotel uniform approached our table.

“Good evening, ladies. My name is Marco.” He turned toward the guys. For a split second, his brows lifted. Then he schooled his features. “Good evening, sirs. I trust everything was to your satisfaction this evening?”

He seemed to be stuttering as he took in the sight of the boys looking like they had just come from the gym. He looked back at us, apologies written profusely in his eyes.

“Yeah, Marco, everything was perfect. Thank you so much,” Adam replied with a smile. He turned his attention from Marco to us, glancing briefly at Leigh before settling his eyes on me. “Scenery is pretty perfect too. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Page. If I can be of any further assistance this evening, please don't hesitate to let me know.” I didn’t miss the wide-eyed glare Marco gave to the guys. “Ladies enjoy the rest of your night.”

“So, would anyone like to walk up to the main house and look around?” I proposed to the group. The guys stood and rushed around the table to pull out our chairs. “Maybe we can find some trouble to get into.”

“Well, Mango, I think that's a great idea,” Adam said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, Ken, my friend, I think we need to change clothes. We can't be seen with these lovely ladies looking like this.” He gestured between the two of them, and Kenny nodded profusely.

Leigh looked at me and then down at her watch. “You have five minutes.”

They took off like a shot, almost tripping over each other.

Kenny

We were three steps from the door of our bungalow when Marco appeared out of nowhere. For some reason, I felt ashamed under his glare.

“Gentlemen,” he said, gesturing for us to lead the way into our bungalow. I glanced at Adam, who shrugged and went first. It was obvious that someone had been in the bungalow while we were gone. There was a rack of clothes in the living room. Clothes that were way better than anything we’d brought.

“I suggest, if you intend to woo those lovely ladies appropriately,” Marco said delicately, “that you look the part. I’ve taken the liberty of having some options brought in for you. I believe you’ll find everything in the correct size.”

Before we could respond, he dipped his head and was out of the bungalow. I walked over and pulled a shirt from the rack. Surprisingly, everything I saw was in the right size. But it was all…

“Look at this yacht club shit,” Adam said, holding out a pair of linen shorts like they were going to catch on fire.

“I get it,” I replied. “It’s not our normal stuff, but you’ve seen those girls out there, Hangman. We cannot go back out there with them looking like that and us looking like two goddamn beach bums.”

Adam rolled his eyes and grumbled, but he grabbed a couple shirts and some pants and went into the bathroom. I chose a pair of grey linen shorts and a polo and changed right there in the living room. There was a rack of shoes, too, but I tugged my tennis shoes back on. It didn’t look too bad.

And it was definitely better than how they’d seen us at dinner.

There was a knock on the door. “Five minutes are up,” Allie called through the wood.

“Coming!” I yelled a few seconds before opening the door.

Allie gave me a quick head to toe and nodded as if I’d passed inspection. “Good, I wanted to talk to you.”

I felt my brows knit together. “About what?”

She looked back over her shoulder. Leigh stood with her back to us. I was almost immediately entranced by the way the breeze danced through her hair and fluttered the fabric of her dress. It felt like my heart had just stopped in my chest.

“There’s something you need to know about Leigh. She’s fun and friendly and flirt… with her friends. Trust me, she isn’t interested in Adam. You don’t have to worry.” So she’d seen that at dinner. “Leigh likes you… a lot. And she’s nervous. Ask her to go for a walk on the beach.”

It felt like a knot loosened behind my ribs. I grinned at her. “I thought we were getting into trouble in the main lodge?”

“Go on,” Allie whispered, nudging me toward Leigh. I stumbled over, my heart thundering blood through my veins. Her red hair was like fire in the twinkling lights of the gazebo. My breath caught in my chest. I’d never been so nervous.

“Leigh…” I stepped up beside her and ran my hand over my face, scratching at my few days’ growth. She was so beautiful, and she looked so pretty in that dress. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Would you like to take a walk down to the beach with me?”

She looked up at me with her moss colored eyes. I had the urge to pull her into my arms. She smiled and I thought I was going to die.

For a moment, she looked over my shoulder. I knew she was searching for Allie. “I’d like that,” she said quietly. Her cheeks went pink as she pushed away from the rail.

We walked side by side down the pier toward the beach. The ever-present sound of the ocean drowned out the creak of the wood beneath our feet, and I knew in that moment that I would always associate the ocean with Leigh Keene. No matter where she went, where I went… she would be with me.

I stepped off into the scrub grass and reached my hand out toward her. She licked her hips and ran her fingertips up her cheekbone to tuck her hair behind her ears as she settled her fingers in my palm. A shock ran down my spine as I closed my hand around hers as she stepped down into the grass.

“You look nice,” she said, a small smile curling her mouth.

I chuckled. “Marco figured we needed… ah… help.”

She nodded as if that solved everything and slipped off her sandals. They dangled in her fingertips as she walked into the sand. I tucked my hands into my pockets and fell into step beside her. The ground shifted and sank beneath our feet as we trekked toward the water lapping up against the beach.

“So a production company?” I asked after a few minutes of silence.

She turned, looking at me over the curve of her shoulder. “It was our dream in college. It’s hard, but it’s worth it.”

I breathed deep of the ocean air as she closed her eyes, tipping her face up toward the stars. She looked like a goddess just risen out of the sea. “What do you do, Kenny Omega?”

I stepped into the space next to her. Her eyes were still closed, and I took the time to memorize her face. She was so beautiful. “I’m a professional wrestler. Adam too.”

Leigh looked me over, head to toe, and nodded approvingly. “I can see it. You any good?”

“I think so,” I replied, laughing. Courage spiked in my chest. I reached for her, taking her hand, our fingers tangling together. She didn’t pull away, and I thanked my lucky stars. Her attention swept out to the water. “Are you okay?”

She took a breath. “Yes.” Her voice was soft, somehow present and distant at once. “I am now.”

There was something melancholy about the way she said it. Like it was a bittersweet yes. My heart skipped a beat.

“Leigh…” I pulled her closer, turning so she stood in front of me. The wind pushed locks of her hair across her face. My fingers shook as I tucked it behind her ear. My thumb traced the shape of her cheekbone; my fingers felt the shape of her jaw. “I barely know you, but I know that you are strong and intelligent. And you fiercely love Allie. Anyone who can’t see how wonderful you are…”

She halved the space between us. Her eyes were wide and bright, almost grey in the starlight. I could feel the heat radiating from her body. I could smell the perfume that made me think of dark, delicious things.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, the words tumbling out on their own. I wondered how she couldn’t see my heart jumping out of my chest. My fingers lingered on her skin, slipping down until I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tipping her face up. “I want to very much.”

The smile that settled on her lips made me feel like I could do anything. Her free hand rose and settled on my collarbone. I watched her bite her bottom lip and nod. She rose up on her toes and tightened her fingers against the collar of my shirt. Her eyes closed, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. I leaned down, drinking in the sight of her just then. The moment our mouths met, my eyes drifted shut and the only thing in the universe was the feel of her against me and the taste of her lips.

It was brief and gentle with a ghost of hesitation beneath. I could taste the sharp notes of cranberry on her lips, and knew I would always remember this moment.

The kiss ended, both of us drawing back at the same time. We hovered there, mouths just out of reach of each other. Her nose brushed against mine. I felt rather than saw her smile, and I knew it matched the one I wore.

Adam

I came out of our bungalow to see Kenny and Allie whispering together, looking toward Leigh. I figured she was giving him some advice, because he crossed the pier and in the next minute, the two of them were walking away toward the beach.

“M'lady?" I asked, falling into the space beside her and holding out my arm for her to take. Allie's beautiful eyes were a bit greener in the soft lighting. I swore I could see the sadness behind her gorgeous smile.

“Well, bless your heart, cowboy.” Allie blushed as her arm snaked through mine.

“Ya know, I’m really glad we missed our original flight out of LAX. Ken was mad at me until you two walked onto the plane.” I let her set the pace as we walked. “Like seriously pissed. It was my fault—I was at the club lounge,” I admitted as we strolled along the pier toward the sound of music.

We walked in quiet for a while. I thought about her sad smile and felt my heart squeeze.

“I'm really sorry to hear about your ex. No one should have to go through that. But I am glad you and OJ decided to still take your trip. You ladies are much better company than a grumpy Kenny-san.”

She looked up at me, her brows raised. “Kenny-san? He doesn't look Japanese to me.” She walked toward a swing overlooking the beach. The driftwood poles were sunk deep in the beach, and two wooden plank seats were strung up with rope. She sat on the swing facing me, kicking her sandals off and dug her toes in the sand.

I leaned against the pole beside her and grinned. “Well, technically Kenny is actually Canadian, but we’ve worked in Japan a lot over the last several years. He’s got citizenship over there. Speaks fluently. It’s only been over the last year or so that we’ve been in the States a lot more,” I explained as I circled around behind her. I took hold of the ropes near the seat and pulled back a little. I let go and she swung forward and back like a pendulum. “How much do you know about the world of professional wrestling?”

“Like the Rock and John Cena?” she asked as I gave her another push. “So, you guys work for WWE?”

I got distracted watching her blonde hair blowing in the breeze. It was like the corn silk in late summer back home.

“Before they were movie guys they worked for WWE. We work for a newer company called All Elite Wrestling.” I explained how Kenny and I met in Japan, the Bullet Club and the rest of the Elite as I pushed her gently back and forth.

Then my heart skipped a beat when she jumped off mid-swing. Allie rounded on me, turning so fast she threw up sand.

“So… let me get this straight. You're a professional athlete, obviously smoking hot, not gay, and you’re single? And you like me?” she asked, puzzled.

I couldn't tell where she was heading with the question. I thought again of the sadness and the circumstances that led her to be right there in front of me. I smiled and nodded as she walked closer. Good Lord, my heart just dropped straight into my boots. She took my hand met my gaze with those green eyes like she was looking into my soul.

When she was satisfied with her search, she looked out over the night-dark water. She was so pretty. So beautiful that I couldn't take my eyes off her. I could watch her under the stars forever.

Then, out of the blue, she asked, “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

I looked at the water. “It's alright, I guess.” She turned to look up at me like I was crazy and found me watching her. “You, Allie Mason, are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

We looked into each other's eyes for a moment. She was beautiful and breathtaking and so unique. I ached to touch her. It was a physical pain, this desire to touch her. Before I could stop myself, I pushed her long blonde hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered on the side of her neck.

Then our lips crashed together in the moonlight. There wasn’t any hesitation. No shyness. My fingers tangled in her hair. She threw her arms around my neck. I lifted her against me, fighting the urge to deepen the kiss. It took everything I had to pull back.

She let out a little giggle, her cheeks flushed. I took her hand and led the way over to the little bar on the beach. We ordered drinks and, before the bartender could shake a martini, we were joined by Ken and Leigh—both looking rather flushed themselves.

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