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#like they were so dry and I’d fiddle with things and go
inky-toons · 7 months
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Whenever I enter into a new fandom it’s like someone places me in front of a pack of wolves, and every once and awhile I’ll meet this *one* person who’s either like me or is interested in what I do and I hold their hand so tight and NEVER let go like. Sorry, you’re stuck with me now lololol…so meeting that someone today made me go RAAAAA AAHAHAHAH so this was us today :]
Besides I’m realizing that some of my mutuals I was close with because I was in the fandom and I’m like. Slowly slipping away from them and going “ehh…you’re there and I guess thats why we interacted so that sucks but I really like this media rn so bye WEHEHE” and I won’t interact because they make me feel out of place :/ so finding new roots is so cool and nifty! We be vibing along!
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tobesolonely · 6 months
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A/N: this is the first thing I've written in like 8 months and it's basically just smut...I was inspired...18+ please lol (this isn't proofread and maybe it should be hahahah)
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“It’s like ripping off a bandaid, love. Just go for it.”
Harry and Y/N were situated in the bathroom, Harry sitting on a small stool facing the mirror with Y/N behind him. She had a pair of hair-cutting scissors in one hand and clippers in the other. He was really doing this.
“You know if you’re bald, you can’t steal my hair clips anymore, right?”
He gives her a faint smirk. “That crossed my mind.”
“No more running your hands through it.”
“Are you upset about that, or am I?”
“This is drastic!”
Harry meets Y/N’s gaze in the mirror before turning around to face her. “Darling, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Please help me cut it before I lose my nerve.”
So Y/N ends up with scissors to her boyfriend’s luscious, signature curly locks. Each strand of hair that falls on the ground nearly causes her to flinch, and out of her peripherals, she can see Harry watching her every move.
“Just trying to be careful to make sure it looks good…the whole point of me cutting it is to avoid you going to the shop, yeah?”
Harry reaches behind him at this, slightly squeezing her thigh in confirmation. “I know, love. I didn’t say anything. I don’t have anywhere to be.”
Y/N asks him at least two more times if he is sure before taking the clippers to his head, but when Harry gives her a firm nod telling her to proceed, she tries to remind herself to breathe as she shaves the first section. Harry shivers at the sensation of his hair hitting his bare back and shoulders.
“‘S a good thing I got the head shape for going bald, huh?”
“Well…”
”Y/N! You’re gonna make me second guess-”
“I’m kidding, H! I think you’ve got a lovely head shape for going bald,” Y/N positions herself in front of him so she can better see what she’s doing at the front of his head, near his hairline. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair shorter than when you cut it for Dunkirk.”
“Remember when I picked you up one day without mentioning it because I thought it would be a fun surprise?”
Y/N pauses her movements, playfully glaring at him. “I think I’d mistake you for an intruder or something if you came through the door completely bald with no warning.”
“Isn’t it nice that I asked you to do it for me this time instead of just shocking you?”
Y/N hums at this, and the couple falls into a comfortable silence as she continues to cut his hair. Harry fiddles with his hands in his lap and reaches behind him occasionally to stroke Y/N’s thigh, but nothing is said between the two. 
Harry’s the first to break their cozy silence. “Woah…my hair.”
“I know.”
He turns around on the stool, looking up slightly to make direct eye contact with her. “You like it, though?”
“It’ll grow on me.”
“Y/N…”
“I’m kidding, H.”
He turns back to the mirror, inspecting his reflection. “Tell me you like it, babe. Even if you don’t.”
Y/N lets out a small giggle at her boyfriend’s fishing for a compliment. “You look handsome. It’ll take some getting used to, but…I do like it.”
Harry makes a slight, triumphant noise before letting Y/N resume the task at hand. She splashes lukewarm water on the top of his head and gently pats it dry with a hand towel before finishing off with his favorite aftershave.
“Good?”
Harry leans in close to the mirror and turns his head from side to side, carefully inspecting his new look. After a few moments, he nods, turning back to Y/N and leaning in to kiss her.
“It’ll take some getting used to on my end, too, but I think I like it.”
“They say that after you shave your head, your hair comes back healthier and stronger than ever.”
“So we’re shaving yours next, then?”
Y/N playfully swats her boyfriend, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, no.”
Harry shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind, darling.”
He exits the bathroom, searching for the broom and dustpan to get up his hair while Y/N goes downstairs to begin dinner. He joins her soon after, wordlessly telling her to sit down and relax when he picks up the knife she just set down to stir the pot of sauce she had bubbling on the stove. In front of her sits a cutting board with an onion, garlic, and different colored bell peppers. Y/N hated cutting those vegetables because she didn’t like how hard the smell was to get off her hands, so he knew she was leaving that task for last in hopes that he would do it (he did, of course).
“I hate chopping vegetables.”
“I know, love.”
Harry reaches up to run his hands through his curls out of force of habit and abruptly stops when he realizes there is no longer anything to actually run his hands through. He turns to take a quick peek at Y/N to see if she saw him. She did.
“I knew that would happen!” She exclaims with a laugh. “I just didn’t think it would happen less than an hour after cutting your hair.”
“It’s an adjustment period!” Harry responds with mock defensiveness, joining Y/N in her glee. Even if she was laughing at him instead of with him, he still felt all warm inside because at least he was the reason for her laughter.
“I can’t wait for our friends to see–what do you think Mitch is gonna say?”
Harry spins around, and yanks opens the cabinet in search of one of the many boxes of pasta they always had on hand. “Penne or bowtie?”
“Bowtie,” Y/N gets up from her seat at the kitchen island to fill their big pot with water to boil the noodles. “I bet he’ll be shocked, especially because his hair is so long. Do you think he would ever cut his hair?”
Harry smiles at his girlfriend’s chattiness. “I think he’ll make fun of me a bit - maybe call me an egghead or something to that degree. He’ll like it, though.”
“What do you think the fans will say?”
Harry lets out a huff of air. “Oh, they’ll have the most to say. It’ll grow on them, I’m sure.”
“I can’t wait to see all the discourse on Twitter.”
“Only send me funny Tweets.”
Y/N hums in confirmation and goes back to her seat at the table after putting the water on to boil. “You know what I’ll miss the most about your hair?”
“What’s that?” Harry asks his question absentmindedly as he putters around the kitchen, retrieving plates and two wine glasses. “Wine?”
“Yes, please,” Y/N pauses. “Gonna miss having something to tug on during sex.”
Harry pauses his movements at this, his full attention now on his girlfriend. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods.
“You can still grab on me.”
“Not your hair, though.”
“You can leave me scratches. Will that suffice until my hair grows back?”
Y/N pretends to be deep in thought at this, which causes Harry to laugh loudly. She answers after a few moments. “I suppose that’ll work…”
“Y’know how much I love when you mark up my back,” Harry uncorks a bottle of wine and pours them each a small glass. “Now, there will be no excuses not to.” He walks over to Y/N, carefully handing her her own glass of wine before taking a sip of his. She then takes a sip, puckering her face at the slightly bitter taste.
The conversation is forgotten until the couple is in their room after dinner, bellies full of pasta and tongues stained slightly purple from their red wine.
“Is that really what you’ll miss most about my hair?”
“Hmm?” Y/N hums in response for Harry to continue, distracted at her vanity with her (overly) extensive skincare routine.
“Pullin’ on it during sex.”
Y/N looks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “I mean, maybe not literally the most, but it’s up there. Gonna take some getting used to, that’s all.”
“Maybe we should have sex now so you can start gettin’ used to it.” Harry has a sly look, eyelids slightly drooping from his arousal and the wine he consumed at dinner. Y/N throws her head back in laughter. 
“You know you can just straight up ask for it, yeah?” She caps the last of her serums and turns around to face her boyfriend, stalking toward the bed as she continues talking. “I’m never not gonna want you to give it to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry now has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gonna mark my back all up? Remind me who I belong to whenever I get in the shower?” There was nothing he reveled in more than the burning sensation of hot water hitting his freshly scratched back after a particularly rough session with his girlfriend.
Y/N nods in response as she drops a knee onto the bed, plopping down in front of her boyfriend. Harry smirks at how she’s already been rendered wordless, situating himself on his knees as she pushes her onto her back. “But first…”
He places his hands on either side and immediately dives in, licking a broad stripe up her pussy. Harry quietly moans in pleasure when Y/N lets out a choked gasp, hands immediately reaching out to grab his head.
“Oh, fuck…,” she groans, throwing her head back in pleasure. “Just like that, H.”
He moves his attention to her swollen clit, flicking it quickly in between his tongue. “Like this?”
Y/N sucks in a particularly sharp breath when Harry speeds up his movements, eyes smug at the fact he already had Y/N’s thighs quivering when he hadn’t even been between them for a full minute yet.
“Harry, please…”
He lifts his head momentarily to answer her, lips glistening with a combination of his saliva and her arousal. “Please what, darling?”
Y/N balls-up the fist resting on Harry’s head out of force of habit, letting out a frustrated whine when she’s met with nothing. He chuckles at this and simply reaches up, moving her hand in the direction of his back. Her nails reflexively dig into his back when he resumes his menstruation on her pussy.
His tongue begins moving impossibly faster, wanting to get her there now. He knew she needed this orgasm just as badly as he needed to give it to her. Harry lets out a sharp hiss when he feels her nails drag down the expanse of his back, her moans increasing in frequency and volume. She was close. He removes his tongue from her clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers.
“There you go, angel,” he reaches up to grab her chin with his free hand to force her to look down at him, not up at the ceiling. “Open your eyes and look at me when I’m making you feel this good.”
Y/N forces her eyes open to look at her boyfriend’s. She watches as he thumbs impossibly fast over her swollen bud, murmuring praises and sweet words about how she’s so beautiful and always gets so wet so fast for him. It doesn’t take much longer before Y/N is throwing her head back with a cry, nails digging into Harry’s back and dragging down as she cums. All she sees is flashes of white, hears ringing in her ears and she thinks it might be the best orgasm she’s had all week. Harry sucks her clit through the entirety of her orgasm, wanting to milk her pleasure for as long as humanly possible. He can feel his back beginning to sting and he wonders if Y/N scratched hard enough to draw blood. He hoped so.
“No more…,” she mumbles quietly, pushing her boyfriend’s mouth away from her most sensitive area. “Shit.”
“All good?” He messily wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning down to give her a chaste kiss. “Still missing the hair?”
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thanks for reading! lmk what you thought!
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wordsonamission · 4 months
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hi! can I request Icemav 7 of 14 for the kiss prompts please?
Thanks so much! Sorry for the delay, these ran away with me and got a lot longer than I had originally planned. I hope you like what I ended up writing!
7 – Forehead against forehead
Ice usually found these sorts of places vaguely claustrophobic. A bit rich, coming from someone who made a career out of living with thousands in a floating sardine can, but there was a difference between carrier living and the way that a club’s atmosphere affected every one of his senses. The throb of the music’s bass reverberated in his stomach, the strobing lights gave him a headache, and the endless crush of bodies touching and sweating and writhing together was sensory overload hell.
He retreated out to the patio. His fingers itched to reach for the pack of cigarettes that he no longer carried. A promise was a promise, and he couldn’t go back on a pinkie promise to someone as doe eyed as seven-year-old Bradley Bradshaw. The boy was right, it was a dangerous and disgusting habit, but Ice had always needed something to fiddle between his fingers and the nicotine took a nice edge off of situations like this. Thankfully there were only a couple of smokers on the patio to tempt him with the scent.
“Wolf said I’d find you out here.”
Ice rolled his eyes but didn’t turn. He hoped the night sky would hide the flush on his cheeks that bloomed every time Maverick tucked himself into Ice’s personal space so confidently.
“There’s a bit too much going on in there,” Ice admitted finally. “And it’s not like I want to watch Wolf and Wood go at it in public like that. They have no decency.”
Maverick snorted. “That’s fair. But they’re really happy.” Ice pretended not to hear the wistfulness in his tone.
 “Of all of us, I’m surprised that they’re the first to get out,” Ice said as Maverick stayed silent.
“Wood said he didn’t think he’d pass the sight test anymore.” Mav’s voice was down to nearly a whisper. “But while I guess that could be true, it’s gonna be a lot easier for both of them if they aren’t living with threat of dishonorable discharge dangling over their head every day.”
Ice wet his suddenly dry lips. Now he was the one scanning to make sure they weren’t being overheard. The four other people on the patio weren’t paying any attention, three were chatting with each other and the fourth was heading back inside. Still, his jaw ticked. “There’s always risk.”
“They can actually live together,” Maverick breathed, watching Ice’s face closely.
Ice squirmed under the attention, twisting his lips downward bitterly. “Just because they’re out of the military, that doesn’t mean they’re safe. You know that as well as I do.”
“Still,” Maverick shrugged, “it’s a chance.” He wet his lips, looking up at Ice through his lashes. “D’you think we’ll ever get a chance?”
Ice’s heart lurched. The words were right on the tip of his tongue – no, they wouldn’t ever get to live the way they wanted. Unless a lot of things changed about society, their love would always have to be a dirty little secret, the ticking time bomb that threatened their security and happiness. But Maverick was a dreamer and lived so fearlessly. He was more uncomfortable living a lie than he was afraid of the consequences of being caught. Ice envied his courage and didn’t have the strength to deny his hopes.
“I don’t know, Mav. Maybe someday.”
Pain flashed across Maverick’s face but he hid it well. He nodded to himself as much as to Ice, dropping his gaze to the concrete. He kicked at a couple of cigarette butts with the toe of his boot and hunched his shoulders as if he was suddenly cold.
Grumbling a curse, Ice stepped forward and grabbed Maverick’s elbow. Mav startled, off-balance, and looked up in shock. Ice knocked their foreheads together gently, lingering a bit too long as warmth seeped between their skin. The contact was as sweet as any kiss and carried just as much heady promise. Maverick inhaled on a shuddering breath and clutched at Ice’s sleeve to hold him close.
“I hope so,” Ice confessed, his voice raw and ragged. “God, I hope so.”
Ice bunted his jaw against Maverick’s temple before he stepped away. One last point of searing contact. If anyone had been watching them closely, they might have seen how Ice’s lips briefly connected with Maverick’s hairline. Or they might have seen how Maverick squeezed Ice’s arm before releasing his white-knuckle grip. But no one was paying attention, so they were safe for another day.
14 – Kissing under the stars
 The waves rushed in and out over the sand, their ebb and flow as predictable and soothing as a cat’s purr. Maverick lost himself to the sound and let himself float. Everything hurt, despite the painkillers he had been forced to take, lest he be forced to endure the wrath of Ice’s infamous Disappointed Eyebrow. The meds gave him a floaty head and slowed his reflexes in exchange for turning down the brightness of the agony along his spine.
The canvas beach lounger next to him creaked. Ice made as few concessions to his age as possible, but conceding that it was easier to stand up from an actual chair than directly from the sand was one of them. He retaliated by keeping one foot off of the lounger, his toes buried in the sand, as he turned the pages of his book.
“Light's going,” Maverick said into the comfortable quiet between them. The sunset was faded to its final orange and pink blush. He watched as the color danced across the water’s surface. Maybe the pills were stronger than he thought.
Ice hummed thoughtfully but didn’t look up. Maverick knew from experience that he could read with very little light. And no, that was not the reason for his glasses, though they’d had that argument before. Maverick didn’t want to hear about how white pages reflected light and knew that Ice wouldn’t bear any repeating of the electronic reader discussion, so he just laughed and watched the water glitter while listening to Ice’s steady breathing.
There had been a while when it didn’t seem like they’d get to have these quiet moments ever again. Cancer was a bitch, treatment for it was somehow worse, and Maverick couldn’t help but throw himself into dangerous situations just to feel some sort of control. But now Ice was firmly into remission and Maverick was home. He tried not to think about the fact that they would both be retired within the year. Ice had earned the rest and the proper send-off. It was Maverick who didn’t feel ready.
Time slipped away like the grains is sand that he carded between his fingers. The temperature dropped precipitously without the sun, reminding him that it was November. Even sunny San Diego conceded that it was best to spend a few months of the year with cooler weather. Maverick found the edge of coolness exhilarating, but the night air would make Ice cough.
Ice, in tune to Maverick’s moods as usual, sighed and put down his book. His face tipped up to the sky, watching as a few stars poked through the purply dark of the urban night sky.
 “Light pollution ruins the view,” Ice grumbled.
“We should spend some time at the hangar,” Maverick agreed. “You’d love the sky out there.”
Ice hummed again. Maverick laughed softly. Dragging a beach creature like Ice that far away from water always took some extra special coaxing.
Maverick pushed up off the sand and straddled Ice’s lap, pressing his sandy palms against Ice’s cheeks. Ice raised an eyebrow and smirked but didn’t complain. His hands rose automatically to Maverick’s hips, absently sneaking up under his shirt to press on bare skin.
 “Wanna head in?”
 Ice shook his head. “The view’s too pretty to leave yet,” he purred, smirk deepening as Maverick blushed. More than thirty years together and his flattery still went straight to Maverick’s heart.
“Surely you don’t mean this,” Maverick said, gesturing to his face. “I’ve been called out for being an old man more in the last couple of weeks than I’ve heard in the last couple of years. It’s starting to get to my head.”
“You’re not old, you’re experienced. Those hotshot children haven’t lived long enough to know the difference.”
Maverick grinned. “Look at you. Mr. Iceman, gone all soft and sweet.” He rubbed his sandy thumbs into Ice’s stubble, just to make him complain about the itch.
“Still incorrigible, I see,” Ice snorted. He seized the back of Maverick’s neck and drew him down to kiss. Maverick leaned into the embrace, relishing their easy give and take. Ice kissed confidently and touched Maverick in exactly the right way to have them both panting in no time.
“We’d better go in,” Maverick said regretfully, “or someone’s gonna complain.”
 “Who?” asked Ice, gesturing to the empty beach. “It’s just us.”
“It’s getting cold. And we have much more comfortable furniture in the house.”
 “That’s true.” Ice pretended to consider the options with all the gravity of his four-star status. “I suppose the suggestion has merit.”
The only warning Maverick got was a playful glimmer in Ice’s eyes before he pinched Maverick’s waist, making him squawk and fall off of Ice’s lap back into the sand.
“I can’t believe you actually did that!” Maverick complained, feigning displeasure. Ice just laughed, heaving himself out of the chair.
“The fastest way to get you moving is to give you the right motivation,” Ice deadpanned gravely. “Now come on, let’s take this discussion inside.”
Maverick leered and made a great show of snapping his beach towel against Ice’s butt in retaliation, even though he knew that the heavy put-upon sigh was going to be the only response he got. Sobering fast, his step faltered as he followed Ice up the beach with their stuff to the house.
Their house, where they shared the same bed every night. Friends visited them there openly and the address was listed on their Navy paperwork. It was no secret that they were in love and that they were married.  There were some benefits to the passage of time, and Maverick would take some aches and pains if it meant that he no longer had to hide how much he loved Ice.
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thesoftestirises · 2 years
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want || e.m.
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♡ pairing: eddie munson x reader ♡ rating : 18+ (all characters are consenting adults) || minors DNI ♡ word count : 2.6k ♡ warnings : nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, name calling, p in v sex  ♡ summary : eddie just wants to make sure your first time is perfect. you just want him. ♡ an : i’m just going to pretend that whole mess that was volume 2 did not happen.
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“How did you picture losing your virginity?” Eddie asked.
Your eyes snapped open. “What?”
Eddie casually shrugged, fingers absentmindedly playing with the corner of the picnic blanket you were both laid out on. “Just wondering. If you still want me to take it, I want to make sure it’s perfect.”
“Of course I still want it to be you. I thought you didn’t want me. You kept saying no and not explaining why.”
“That’s absurd. I’ll always want you,” he scoffed. “I just wanted to be sure that you wanted me. Didn’t want to do anything you might regret in the future.”
“I’ve always wanted you, Eddie,” you smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I don’t know why you keep doubting it.”
He chuckled and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling your hand away. He fiddled with your ring, the one he gifted you on your second date, before continuing. “Don’t get me off topic. Certainly there was something you were getting off to before you met me. Some vague idea that got you hot and bothered. What did you touch yourself to, hm? I’m dying to know.”
You sucked in a sharp breath and looked away. “Well, um, I’m not sure.”
“Do you want control? Or do you want me to hold you down? Either would be good for me,” he said, bringing his hand down to stroke the delicate flesh of your throat and playfully wrap around your neck. “I’ll be inside of you regardless.”
“Jesus, you say the dirtiest things.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way. Tell me, baby. Where does your sinful mind wander when you’ve got your hands between your perfect thighs?”
Your face flushed with heat and your mouth went dry as Eddie stared at you. “I just pictured being taken, really cherished. Like whoever was touching me was addicted and couldn’t get enough.”
“I’ve already got that covered. A little more specific, angel.”
“I’d want to be able to see you,” you said.
“Me too,” he said as he traced your lips with his thumb. “I want to see your face as I sink into you and make you mine in every way possible. I can’t even begin to imagine how pretty you’d look when I’m deep inside of you. Your sugar sweet lips parted in pleasure, your beautiful eyes sparkling with unshed tears... Your warm, tight cunt surrounding my cock.”
“Stop teasing me and just do it, Eddie,” you said, sitting up and kneeling between his legs.
He blinked in surprise. “Right now?”
“Unless you don’t want to?” you said, immediately beginning to backtrack out of embarrassment.
“I do, but I didn’t bring any condoms-“
“Do we really need condoms if I have an IUD?”
He closed his eyes and sucked in a harsh breath. “In general, yes, because you could still get an STD. But... you’ve never been with anyone, and I’ve never done it unprotected-“
“So we’d be okay then? Because I think I’d like it better that way.”
“Yeah?” He teased as he kissed down the line of your neck, drawing soft whimpers from your lips. “You want me to cum inside of you?”
His fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, dragging the fabric up your stomach inch by inch. While you had stripped in front of Eddie multiple times, this time felt distinctly different. The air between you felt electric and heavy. Eddie placed his hands on the bare skin of your waist and leaned in for another kiss. You parted your lips and let him lick over the sensitive roof of your mouth. You whimpered and tried to get him to speed up, pressing yourself against the line of his body eagerly. He smiled against your lips and slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders.
“Eddie,” you whined.
“Patience, angel. Let me look at you,” he said, gently pushing you back to take your bra off completely. You pouted but did as he asked, letting him admire you in silence. His dark eyes were glazed over, reflecting the stars that hung above you. You stayed still as he reached out to trail his hands over your breasts, squeezing and plucking at your nipples until they stiffened under his touch. He then tugged you closer and laid you out on the checkered blanket underneath him. You reached out for him and whined in protest when he gripped your wrists and forced them over your head.
“Don’t move,” he warned.
Eddie’s gaze remained locked on yours as he lowered himself to your chest, leaving open mouthed kisses all over your flesh. You shivered as he brushed his lips over your skin, his touch feather light. After a minute of build up, he took a nipple into his mouth. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the familiar feeling of Eddie’s warm, wet mouth. You tangled your fingers in the fabric of the blanket below you in an effort to not touch him while he switched his attention over to your unabused bud. He laved over both your breasts, leaving them shiny with his spit before finally pulling off with a lewd pop.
“You make a pretty picture when you’re ruined. I’m excited to see how you’ll look once I’m done wrecking your pussy. I’m going to leave you dripping with my cum, angel, I’m going to destroy your innocence. That’s what you wanted, right?”
“Fuck,” you gasped, squirming in his hold. “Yes, yes. That’s what I wanted. I want you to cum in me so bad, Eddie, please.”
“You like that? I should have known when you kept asking to get fucked. You’re a little cum slut, aren’t you?”
“Your cum slut,” you corrected.
He smiled and moved his hands to your skirt, slipping his fingers under the waistband. He kissed the sensitive skin of your stomach before impatiently pulling the fabric off your legs and tossing it to the side. You let out a shuddering breath as Eddie came face to face with your clothed pussy.
“Fuck,” he murmured, pressing his nose to the fabric and inhaling while you squeaked in surprise.
“You smell so good, angel,” he said, biting into the flesh of your thighs. You sighed and spread your legs, your core beginning to ache from the lack of attention.
“Touch me,” you pleaded.
He chuckled and moved a hand to your panties. He gently parted your lower lips through the fabric, playing with your clit and purposely working you up. You writhed under his touch, torn between feeling overwhelmed and understimulated. He cooed at you and moved his fingers down to your entrance. “You’re soaking, angel. Are you that excited?”
“Yes, I want it so bad.”
“I’m going to give it to you,” he promised, pushing your panties to the side and dragging his fingers through your wetness. Eddie knew where every sensitive part of you was and he easily abused the knowledge, rubbing over your clit until you were gasping and on the verge of tears. You arched your back into his touch, unable to speak as he purposely pushed you to a quick orgasm.
He hummed in satisfaction as you came apart in his hands and parted your sensitive folds, ignoring your little noises of protest. He lowered himself and wrapped his lips around your clit, holding your thrashing hips down while he harshly sucked on the small bud. Your mind went completely blank at the overstimulation. All you knew was the man between your legs and the feeling he created in you. He moved his attentions to your entrance, opening your folds as far as possible before spitting directly into your hole. You gasped as he pushed it inside with a single finger, coating your inner walls with his saliva. He repeated the process over and over until you were dripping onto the blanket below you. But instead of stopping, he inserted the tip of his tongue into your entrance.
“Oh my God!” You moaned.
He gave you a wicked smile and dived back in. The sensation of his tongue prodding your inner walls was strange. It was warm and flexible in a way that got you squirming. New, but not unpleasant. You arched into his mouth and grabbed onto his hair, instinctually wanting more. He allowed you to have control for ten seconds before wrestling it back, trapping your wrists to the side and fucking you slowly with his tongue.
“Eddie- Eddie, I’m gonna come again.”
“Do it, angel,” he murmured against your folds. “Coat my face in your juices.”
You shivered as you came for the second time that night. Eddie pulled off you with a pleased grin, his lips red and swollen, his chin shiny with your combined fluids. His face was your final straw. You wanted him, no, needed him.
“Fuck me,” you pleaded. “Stop teasing and fuck me.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, disentangling himself from your body. “Just lay there and take a minute to breathe, I need to get undressed.”
You watched him in awed fascination. Even when Eddie was doing the most mundane, human things, he looked beautiful. The moonlight drew silver shadows over Eddie’s cheekbones and eyelashes, sharpening his features. He slipped his shirt off over his head and exposed the broad line of his shoulders to your hungry gaze. He noticed you looking at him and smiled, shaking his head as he slipped his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the side. Your eyes remained on his when he repositioned himself between your legs and finally took your panties off.
“I’ve got to stretch you out, princess,” he said, gently touching your drooling entrance. “Are you still doing okay? You know we can stop at any point, right?”
“I’m fine, Eddie. I trust you. If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you,” you reassured him. “Promise me you’ll do the same?”
He smiled and kissed your cheek. “I promise, angel.”
“Good. Now hurry up.”
“So impatient,” he smirked, prodding your entrance and sinking his ring finger into you. Your eyes rolled back as he pumped the digit inside of you, curling his fingers against your walls and pressing into every sensitive spot you had. He quickly added a second and third and spread his fingers out inside you, gently preparing your body to take him. Your breathing picked up as he introduced a fourth digit into your entrance. The reality was finally beginning to set in. Eddie was going to take your virginity.
“Still doing okay?”
“Wonderful,” you smiled, pulling him down and kissing him. He tasted strongly like you, but you didn’t mind.
He pulled his fingers out and gave you one last, chaste kiss. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He spat into his palm and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before positioning the head at your entrance. You swallowed and watched his cock as he slowly began to push in. You gasped at the burn of the stretch and stared at the spot where your bodies were connected. The intrusion was overwhelming and he wasn’t even a fifth of the way in. Eddie reached out for your hands, interlacing your fingers.
“Angel, look at me. Look at me,” he said, waiting until you turned your wide eyes on him. “If you want to stop, we can stop. But if you want to keep going, you have to relax.”
You nodded, focusing on evening out your breathing. “Go.”
“Keep your eyes on me,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
You nodded and spread your thighs further. He kissed your forehead and nose before taking a deep breath and continuing. You winced but found it easier to tolerate after the initial push. Once you stopped focusing on the discomfort, you were able to marvel at the fact that he was inside you. Any space that had once existed between you was gone. You surprised yourself when tears began cascading down your cheeks uncontrollably. Eddie carefully kissed them away, murmuring sweet nothings.
“Let me know when you’re ready, angel. You’re doing so well,” he whispered.
You sniffled and gave him a watery smile. “I love you.”
He chuckled and squeezed your hands. “I love you more.”
You finally gave him permission to move when the ache between your legs dulled. He carefully pulled out before pushing back in, his cock dragging along your inner walls in a way that had you gasping. It felt like he was pressed up against every nerve ending you had. Sparks of pleasure began to run up your spine and you were finally beginning to understand what the hype was about.
“Go faster,” you said.
“Are you sure?”
“Please, Eddie. Cum in me.”
He hissed and moved his hands to your hips for leverage. His fingertips pressed into your skin hard enough to bruise but you loved it. You watched him bite down on his lower lip and begin picking his pace up. You panted as your combined temperatures rose and you started to sweat. Eddie looked equally as affected, his hair messy and his skin flushed as he took his pleasure from you. His eyes were closed as his necklace dangled over your face.
He reached between your thighs and began thumbing at your clit. You whined and gripped his wrist, torn between begging him to stop or keep going. You felt like a mess. All you knew was the man above you and the way he made you feel.
“Look- look at me,” he grunted as his hips slammed into yours.
You whined but obeyed, staring up at Eddie’s glittering eyes. He shifted and began pushing right against your sweet spot. He timed his thrusts to match his ministrations on your clit. Your toes curled as the heat in your belly began to build for the third time that night.
“Are you getting close?” He asked.
You nodded, unable to speak.
“Me too, angel,” he said. “Just hold on a bit more, okay?”
“Mm.”
Eddie smiled and focused on keeping his pace steady. After a few moments, he started getting louder, his groans giving way to melodic moans. He was getting close, you realized. You purposely clenched down on him, causing him to let out a surprised gasp. He retorted by slamming deeper into you, punching embarrassed squeaks from your lips. Once your thighs began shaking and hips started to stutter, he grabbed your chin and looked you in the eyes.
“Come, Y/N,” he demanded.
You practically blacked out as you both crashed over the edge together. He moaned and bit down on your shoulder while he spent himself deep inside your shaking body. You laid there, wide eyed and open mouthed for a solid minute while Eddie patiently wiped your forehead and checked your pulse. When you finally came to, you grabbed him and kissed him breathless.
“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” you said between kisses.
“I love you more,” he replied. “Give me a second, I need to pull out.”
You whined at the loss of warmth as Eddie separated from you, but quickly stopped when you felt a liquid trickle out of your entrance.
He came in you. You didn’t know why you were so surprised, you literally gave him permission to. But it was something else to feel. He had taken your virginity and the aftermath laid between your legs.
Eddie chuckled, scooping the fluid into his fingertips and pushing it back into you. “Don’t let it go to waste, angel.”
“Oh, my God,” you moaned.
“My name’s actually Edward, beautiful,” he teased. “I’m guessing you liked it?”
“You’re incredible. I’m never going to find anyone half as good as you,” you sighed, boneless and fully sated.
He winced but quickly masked the expression with a cocky grin. “You’re absolutely right.”
He helped you stand and redress, laughing at how your knees shook when you tried to walk. He quickly apologized and offered to give you a piggyback ride when you pouted and reminded him that he did that to you. You kissed him one last time before you separated and went to bed with his cum still dripping out of you. You’d deal with the consequences later.
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thank you for reading  ♡  you can find my masterlist here   
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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Text
“Playing a Game You Can’t Win” Sanji Becomes More Dominant (Part 2) (Slightly NSFW)
Dom! Sanji x Sub! Black Fem Reader
Part 1 Here
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Bad Summary: Sanji overhears your need for him to be more assertive to what you want him to do to you in bed and he takes you up on that offer
Thank you for 800 followers! I’ll try and finish the final part today!
CW: Kissing, Sensual Massage, Dom!Sanji, Sub! Reader, Fingering, Teasing, Begging
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During dinner you felt a shift in Sanji’s mood. He was more quiet, he only gave you short lived answers to your questions, and he barely even looked at you. Did you do something wrong?
The rest of the day was rather busy so you had already forgotten the conversation you had with Robin and Nami. You wanted to speak with your Blonde man after dinner because he seems different and you didn’t really like that.
The clatter of dishes being washed by him was the only thing noise between you both this evening as everybody has left to their own business. Usually, you two would be talking and joking around but Sanji haven’t even looked your way since everybody left. It felt so unlike him and you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Sanji?” You turn yourself in your chair to face him fiddling with your fingers. He hums still not facing you from the sink, “Are you okay?”
Sanji stops his cleaning, he actually didn’t mean to ignore you he just had a lot on his mind tonight. He began to feel bad, cleaning his hands dry, he turns and walks over to you with a warm grin.
“I couldn’t be happier, Y/N.” He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, and then hovers his lips over yours. Usually you were prepared for a very wet and excited kiss with a small serenade but Sanji made you blink open your eyes in confusion. There was no kiss, just words from him, “I was just thinking about something that’s all…”
“Oh…okay…do y—“
“How about we take a shower together, and then I give you a massage? You been working all day today, Princess I Gatta spoil you.“ His silver covered knuckles brush against your cheek, he looked down at you with a sly smirk holding his unlit cigarette in the corner of his lips, and you look up at him like a little lost puppy pushing yourself into his sweet gentle touch. “You’d like that right?”
“Uh..” You jerked yourself back up for a moment feeling his thumb now rub against your bottom lip. “Yes. I’d —id like that.”
“Okay. Let me finish in here and you just be in the shower when I come, okay?”
“Okay!” You perked up hearing how monotone his deep voice was. He wasn’t fawning over you, he wasn’t sounding like he was offering you something as if he was worshiping your feet, but
It was a demand.
Maybe you were just tired thinking that …and bit horny. You both haven’t had sex in about a week due to troubles with enemies the past few days.
You get in the shower and clean yourself of all the sweat and grime from today’s work. You touched your cheek, still feeling where Sanji’s cold silver rings rubbed against you made you lost in thought. He always wear those rings during sex, but you haven’t been pleasured to feel them wrap around your ne—
“Hey you.” Sanji pulled back the curtain breaking you out of thought. “Is there anymore hot water for me?”
“Mmhm!” You smiled biting your bottom lip. Oh? Sanji not going into a complete bleeding fest? Usually it takes him 5-10 minutes to mentally prepare for seeing your supple golden skin under the water, clinging to your body nearly dry humping you, but nope. Not tonight. Sanji got in and bathed with you.
“Face me let me wash you.” He fingers crept around your waist tightly to turn you to look at him, your eyes immediately trailed down his lips down to his wet chiseled torso, but before your eyes went somewhere else Sanji coo’ed “You’re so beautiful, Y/N..”
He softly scrubbed the soapy towel on your chest down to your tummy admiring every stretch mark, scar, and curve you have, it was a sincere comment that made your heart swoon and reminded you why you fell in love with Vinsmoke Sanji.
“You are too, Sanji.” You giggled, you placed your hand on his cheek making him stop his focus on your body and looked you in the eyes, “I love you, Sanji…always will.”
You kissed him letting your fingers run through his hair you didn’t mind having a little bit of shower sex before bed, but Sanji had different plans.
The kiss got more heated when you slid your tongue in his mouth slowly moving one of your hands down his chest to grab his d—-
“Wait wait wait baby..” he fought his own temptations and pulled off your sweet soft lips holding your arms. “I—fuck..um…”
“Oh I’m sorry—I um…I got carried away I just haven’t…kissed you in a while I’m —-“
“No! No! Don’t apologize, sweetheart—it’s okay…” Sanji breathed out to clear his throat. As hard as it was to deny you of more kisses He had to let tonight go how he wanted. He had to call the shots tonight. “If we have sex now you’ll be too tired for your massage.”
“Oh! Right the massage I forgot I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He patted your head before kissing your forehead. “Let me rinse you off and we can finish….good girl.”
If you were facing him still he would have clearly seen the switch in your face and how quickly you bit your lip. Sanji has never called you good girl and it makes you clench at how it rolled of the tongue for him.
You both got out and got dressed for bed in the bathroom, but Sanji suggested you just put on underwear and wrap the towel around you where in the moment seemed like a good idea since you were getting a simple massage. He walks you back to his room which kind of made you look back when you both passed your bedroom door, but he just rubbed your shoulders and told to he wanted to do something different tonight.
“Oh wow…” He opens his room and it smells so good ! It was perfectly warm coming in from the candles and the aroma was something similar to vanilla and cinnamon. He had a few towels, oil and a small rectangular gift on his bed. You actually forgot how much you enjoyed Sanji’s room. “It’s so nice in here! Sanji you—-“
In a Swift movement he pulled your lips onto his, it was passionate and slow making a small whimper escape into his mouth.
“Strip.”
Was all he whispered to you before pulling away, his natural scent brushed past you as he grab one of his cigarettes to light. You knew Sanji wouldn’t get mad at you for not listening, but we’re you really sure about that?
“I said,” You didn’t even feel the clasps of your bra unhook falling down immediately exposing your breast, “Strip, sweetheart….panties too okay?”
You didn’t have much of a response as you moved your hands down from your breast to rid of your underwear. You could feel Sanji’s hungry gaze on you as he was sitting on the bed watching.
“Come here…lay down on your tummy for me.”
It was a tinge of shyness you felt creep up inside the pit of your belly laying on the bed fully naked while he was in his tank top and pajama pants.
Something was different.
“You’re not mad at me are you, Sanji?” The worry in your voice nearly made Sanji break. He never had to hear this level of concern from you, but even though he wanted to prove to himself tonight he can be the dominant man you want him to be he will do it in a gentlemen like manner.
Well try.
“No! Never that, darling.” He placed the towel on your butt caressing it a little, “You could never make me mad I just want to make you feel good, okay? You ganna be My good girl and take what I give you right?”
That damn knuckle caressing again. You feel yourself clench again onto nothing as he rubbed the back of your thighs.
“Yes—“
“…yes..what?”
You froze for a second…what did he want you to say?
He hates “Daddy”
He isn’t a “Captain “
So…
“Yes, sir.”
Sanji could feel his cock twitch, but you wouldn’t know seeing the new twinkle in his eye, so it must have been the correct word. He kissed your forehead and got back on the bed.
You heard his palms rub in the oil and began his magic.
Its been less than 10 minutes and you’ve already felt yourself get embarrassingly turned on. You felt him put the warm oil on your now exposed butt and felt the liquid rush down your slit.
“Sanji!” You jerked at the teasing feel of it pour over your lower body, he chuckled and continued to massage your inner thighs.
“Just relax sweetheart..”Trying to do so seemed too difficult when the up and down motions of his hands kept brushing against your slit.
Eventually you just couldn’t take the subtle touches and your mewls seemed to not be enough for him to get the hint. You never had to beg for Sanji to please you, but now you were under his spell, you felt weak against his touch, and so nearly cried to him,
“Sanji…Touch me…please…”
“I am touching you baby..unless you wanted me to rub somewhere…or something else.”
He was clearly toying with you. Sanji didn’t want to give in to your pleads too quickly he wanted you to ache for it. And you wasn’t used to that, you could almost hear his amusement in his tone when you whine again and he slaps your butt lightly as a consequence for being so impatient and rubbing it right after to soothe you.
“Sanji…please….I wanna…” You were so caught up in the THOUGHT of him inside you you didn’t catch the spit on the side of your mouth until he cleaned it with his thumb.
“You wanna what baby? Drink some Water?”
“I want…your fingers inside me..” you shoved your face in your arms feeling a bit of embarrassment having to be vocal about what you want, but Sanji found it so attractive and hot seeing you like this, seeing you not demand. Maybe listening to that conversation was something he needed to remind himself who’s really in charge.
You whined his name immediately feeling his index and middle finger slide inside your cunt just way too easily, a small reward for Sanji of how good he was making you feel.
“You like that?”
“Yes! Yes Sanji i do please don’t Stop!
Sanji loves you, he really does, he loves you so much he would die for you, however tonight you may question that because after seeing how good you looked so submissive and obedient under his touch, tonight—
He wanted to break you.
Part 3 (final)
700 notes · View notes
celandeline · 3 months
Text
Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (22)
We go to the field. And even though it’s just us, rules are rules, so we still strip before we enter the grass. It was dry the first time we were here, with the boys at the beginning of the summer, but now it might as well be straw for the way that it scratches at me. I probably shouldn’t smoke here, for fear of it catching fire, but I do anyway. Lately, I can’t bring it upon myself to care. I’m tired of this place. I want to go home. 
I didn’t realize how much I was depending on Farleigh for fun until now, that he’s gone. 
Venetia sighs next to me. “I wish Farleigh hadn’t ratted to Felix. Oliver will barely look at me now.” She says. “It’s so utterly boring.”
“Mm.” I hum around my cigarette. 
“What are we to do?” She sighs, overdramatic. “We’ve lost our men - mine won’t look at me, and yours is a criminal.”
“He’s not a criminal.” I say. 
“What else would you call it?” Venetia asks.
I pause, and think for a minute. “I don’t know.”
She turns to lay on her side, looking at me. “Did you ever kiss him?” She asks. 
I debate it in my head - we’re friends, and friends tell each other these sorts of things. But it feels like betraying Farleigh to say that I did. Telling Venetia that we kissed feels like admitting that she’s right to be as angry as she pretends to be, and that it’s perfectly fine to toss your family members out on the street over something that wouldn’t even put a dent in your finances. Does she deserve to know?
“No.” I say.
“A shame.” She says. “I was really hoping you would - too late, I guess. We’ll never know which of us was the best kisser.”
I let a silence settle over us, and idly smoke my cigarette. It feels like I’m mourning, a little. I didn’t know him well enough to cry, but I knew him well enough to want to know him better, and to rue the fact that I won’t get the chance. 
“You won’t miss him?” I ask. 
Venetia fiddles with the brittle ends of her hair. “I mean, yeah, obvs. But he tried to steal from us when Dad’s paying for his entire education. That’s plain evil.”
“It just doesn’t seem like something he’d do.” I say, carefully testing the waters. “He doesn’t- didn’t, I guess now, seem stupid.”
“He’s not.” She says. “He’s always got good marks - the only reason he kept getting expelled was ‘cause he kept sucking the teachers off. Like, he’s not stupid, but he is dumb.”
I know what she means - reckless. I smile a little at the image of Farleigh going out of his way to sleep with his teachers. I’m sure he got off on that power dynamic. 
“You’re kind of right though.” Venetia continues. “It’s weird, that he would try and steal something so obviously. I guess he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was.”
The conversation dwindles into nothingness, and I exhale a cloud of smoke, watching it dissolve into the air. That’s all I’m going to get from her, I think. That’s all I’d get from any of them. I try to put it to rest in my mind, but the closure isn’t enough. It’s frustrating that I won’t get anything more, now that he’s gone. I can’t ask him what he was thinking, or what really happened. I hate to say ‘oh well’, but what else is there to do?
“Oliver’s party’s tomorrow.” Venetia says conversationally. “What were you thinking of wearing?”
“Whatever you give me.” I say, smiling at her. 
She grins. “I don’t know why I asked - I’ve got the cutest costumes for us. Obviously nothing too over the top, but I’ve got a dress that looks like it’s made of spiders web for me, and a dress that’s covered in peaseblossoms for you. Like the fairies in the play.”
“Cute.” I say. And it does sound cute - but my sour mood makes me all too aware of how she treats me as a doll, to dress up and play with and follow her around until she gets bored of me. Expendable, once she finds someone else to fawn over her. I can’t help it though, it’s an overwhelming sense to care for her, like a force of nature. 
“I know.” She scrunches up her nose in a smile. “Maybe I’ll try it on with him again tomorrow night.” She muses aloud. “Give him a birthday present he won’t forget.”
“Disgusting.” I say. 
She giggles, flopping onto her back. “I just want to know how big it is when he’s hard.” She says. “Like, it’s got to be huge if it’s that big while he’s soft. And it’s his birthday, of course. He deserves at least a handjob.”
“You didn’t give me a handjob for my birthday.” I say. 
“I barely knew you then, it was only October!” Venetia says. “And you don’t have a penis!”
I roll so that I’m propped up on my side, partially hovering over her like I had with Farleigh the night we kissed. “And if I did have a penis?”
“I’d have given you a handjob.” She says, grinning. “Probably more.”
I can’t help but smile, lowering myself so that I’m just a bit closer to her. “You’d be so in love with me if I was a man.”
She tips her head back so that our lips are parallel. “Probably.” She says softly. One of her hands comes up to wind around the back of my neck, and pulls me down so that our lips meet briefly. When I pull away, her smile is wide. “But you’re not.”
I flop down on my back next to her. “Farleigh’s a better kisser.”
She gasps, loud, and sits up, looking down at me. “You said you didn’t!”
“I lied.” I shrug in the grass. 
“Why’d you lie?” She demands. “We’re supposed to be best friends!”
I shrug again. “I don’t know. I’m just a little…” I trail off, the presence of the hole Farleigh left behind washing over me again. 
She tilts her head. “Yeah.” She says. “Me too.” 
It’s the most genuine thing I’ve heard her say in a while. 
< previous part | next part >
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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year
Text
VALKYRIE | KING VALKYRIE (the mcu)
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“Is This Okay?” (Valkyrie x Fem!Reader)
| Tired from covering for Valkyrie while she’s on her mission to save New Asgard’s children, you go into her house for something and end up falling asleep on her bed.
| Reader is always black unless I say differently
| SFW, establishing relationship, it’s just fluff/kissing and some shy!reader
| 1k+ words
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At the sound of a knob turning you stir and blearily lift up your head. A woman’s silhouette stands in the door.
“You warming my bed?”
In the near darkness of the bedroom, the only light sources are coming from the now open door and the cracks in the window blinds, you make a quiet amused sound.
“Not on purpose,” you rub your eyes with a sniff. “I just came to get something and passed out.”
“Oh? What were you looking for?”
You look around the room but absolutely nothing rings a bell.
“Honestly, I don’t even remember, but I’m sure it’s in my itinerary somewhere.”
She laughs softly. You can just barely make out the glint of metal as she shifts.
You yawn, eyes flitting over her some more. Despite having literally been hospitalized you could tell from her voice alone she was more lively than she’s been in a while.
“Nope. I’d much rather stick to helping make all this easier for you as your assistant.”
“Which you do brilliantly, Ms. L/n.”
“Thank you,” you incline your head at her. “Now did they let you out or did you let yourself out?”
“You know I don’t like infirmaries. Hate being inactive for that long.”
You bring your hand up to scrunch your hair briefly, it’s going to be knotted and dry as hell tomorrow without your wrap. You don’t even want to think about the friction on your edges.
“Yeah, I know.”
The both of you stare at one another before she walks in and shuts the door behind her. She takes a good look at the way the moonlight illuminates the brown of your skin and you sit up to see her better.
A grin takes over her face, her eyes traveling over your body.
“So is this going to be a regular thing?”
You blink up at her, “Is what going to be a regular thing?”
Still dressed in her armor your King chuckles before walking over to the closet. She bends over to shuck off her boots.
“You could keep playing coy with me, or you could get me in that bed faster,” she shrugs off the top pieces of her armor with a glance over her shoulder at you. Getting undressed in record time. “Your decision.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, mind obsessing over what exactly to say. You’ve been “seeing” Valkyrie for almost two months now. She had tossed you a key to her place when you were still in the shuffling-around-each-other stage for official purposes, and you’d never used it till now. And now you were in this situation together.
“You don’t want me to leave?”
Her eyebrows go up and down as she leans against the wall in shorts and an Oklahoma revival shirt.
“No,” she flicks something from under her nail before meeting your eyes again. “I just want a straight answer from you Princess.”
You duck your head, nails clinking together as you fiddle with the edge of your top.
“I mean,” you shrug. “I’d like it to be.”
Valkyrie’s silent for a couple beats right until the bed dips down and one of her knuckles is placed under your chin. You blink up at her, mouth parting slightly as she lifts your head.
“You’d like…what? You’re a big girl, use your words.”
You swallow at her intense regard. She glances down from your eyes to the plush of your lips while licking her own, before they bounce back to meet your gaze and your breathing gets just that much harsher.
“I’d like to, um- I’d like to make waking up in your bed a regular thing,” your voice drops into a whisper. “My King.”
Valkyrie makes a quiet noise in the back of her throat as you breathe in the same air.
“See,” she murmurs. “That’s all you had to say.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. The finger on your chin shifts and her hand moves to splay across your cheek.
“I’d like that too,” she breathes out before her lips are on yours.
It’s a simple kiss. Your mouths lock together naturally for a few moments before you gasp for little breaths and then automatically meld back together. Her tongue pushes for entrance and you grant it after only a few beats.
Valkyrie groans and then you’re being pressed against her. Capable hands grasp at your hips and bring the two of you closer together. You come up on your knees for her and the kiss deepens at the better angle, making you shiver.
When she eventually pulls away due to your incessant need for air the way she’s looking at you from so close makes your face warm. After a few awkward moments of catching your breaths a chuckle pushes past your lips and you pull back, hands dropping down to once again fiddle in your lap.
You force yourself to meet her eyes before you speak. “So does this mean we’re actually dating now?”
Valkyrie hums and leans forward, hand coming up to cradle your face so you can’t run away again, and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“If you’ll allow it, I’d love to,” she smirks. “Especially if dating means having you in my arms more often.”
“Gods above,” you exclaim softly before pushing at her.
She laughs at your embarrassment as she lays down next to you under her blanket. Feeling her thigh brush up against the length of your own ratchets up the heat in your face even more and the way she pulls you down into her makes you feel like you’re about to explode.
Your throat clicks before, in a bid to calm down, you bring up something that’d crossed your mind earlier.
“Why’d you have your armor on if you were at the hospital?”
“Just in case,” her hand rubs down your side. You only shiver a little more.
You nod your head minutely where your forehead is pressed against her shoulder.
“Of course,” she pinches you on the hip for your glibness and you giggle. “I’m just saying. What do you want to do now?”
“Cuddle,” her hand briefly brushes over the curve of your ass before wrapping around your waist. “For tonight at least.”
“Really?”
You’re throwing your hands over her middle and snuggling more into her body regardless of your question though. She definitely wasn’t acting like she wanted you gone so you might as well take advantage.
“Fuck yes. I was stabbed, I want to cuddle.”
NOTES: Valkyrie’s was the highlight of Thor: Love and Thunder for me so obviously something had to give. I thought about the phrase “warming my bed” and built everything else around it. Please ignore any typos I’ll catch them eventually.
Hope you enjoyed!
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giggleeclown · 7 months
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Mock Comedy and Play Fights (Undertale Tickle Fic)
Description: When Papyrus and Sans stay late at Toriel’s house until even after Frisk is asleep, their conversation turns a little dry for Papyrus’ taste. Luckily, Toriel and Sans always know how to leave him laughing.
Vivi’s input: THIS IS A SFW TICKLE FIC! If you don’t like that, go away! This also has IMPLIED SORIEL. …but it doesn’t have to be taken that way. Also, this is my first fic in AGES. … and my first official Undertale fic. So if you don’t like that…. GO AWAY! …I wrote most of this very late at night so if it’s inconsistent and you don’t like it? ….you know the drill just don’t read the thing if you don’t like it fuejhf
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Laughter is the best medicine, or so they say. Perhaps that’s why Toriel had ended her day with the beloved skeleton brothers by sitting down and trading jokes. Sans sat in the armchair catty-corner, while his brother sat next to her on the couch. Darkness had fallen. What a lovely night for company.
It had started with stories at first, but it seemed that Sans couldn’t help himself around his ‘Tori’, and slowly began devolving the conversation into repetitive puns. That just seemed to be how it always went between those two. At that cue, Papyrus slowly shrank away from the banter, focusing his attention on a complex rubix cube he had been trying to solve.
He didn’t dare ruin their fun, though. Truth be told, Papyrus not only had a soft spot for Sans’ humor, but also for Toriel being in their lives. Since they had reached the surface a few months ago, they had been visiting more frequently, and, every time they did, Sans lit up in a way that Papyrus couldn’t describe. His laughs were more frequent, his smiles made his eyes crease, and he, for the most part, was always able to stay awake for the duration of their visits. Honestly, Papyrus loved hearing the two laugh, especially his brother. That’s why he remained silent, even at points where it became dreadfully exasperating.
“Oh, Sans, do tell another, please!” Toriel begged, wiping a tear from her eye. Sans had to catch his breath before stringing on more, drawing even more laughter from her. Papyrus even had to bite back giggles on a particular few that involved puzzles. It wasn’t until a particularly horrible pun that the ‘fight or flight’ response in him was triggered. He groaned loudly, face in his hands, and that seemed to cause the two to just laugh harder. “OH MY GOD!” Papyrus shouted, muffled by his gloves. He sat up to look at the two. “YOU TWO ARE RIDICULOUS.” That got a chuckle out of Toriel. “No, no, Papyrus,” she began. “We settled that in the underground, remember?” “yeah, bro,” Sans continued, reading her cue with a smirk. “we’re boneheads.” Papyrus only rolled his eyes and unresponsively returned to his rubix cube.
Toriel had noticed Papyrus’ lack of interest, and almost felt a little conflicted by it. It was safe to say that Sans didn’t mind, this was frequent behavior for and to him, but the motherly side of the goat encouraged her to be a little lighthearted and playful, especially because she wanted to see his playful side come out and get to know him better. Even Papyrus should have a pun time! As Sans continued his mock routine, Toriel moved herself a little closer to Papyrus, until she was at his side. He had been fiddling with his rubix cube so intensely that he hadn’t noticed. She continued to giggle at Sans, who was still unexpecting as well, but, at another specifically awful pun, she lurched backwards with laughter, grabbing the skeleton beside her and taking him back with her. “YIII-” He screeched, feeling himself be lifted up and pressed to her chest.
“Goodness, that was funny, was it not, Papyrus?” She giggled sincerely, but he was too confused to respond. Sans now noticed his brother’s new position, but didn’t bat an eye, chuckling at his strange noise.” “yknow, pap, i’d yelp ya out, but you seem tah be takin’ control of the screech-uation.” Papyrus went to respond, inhaling and lifting a finger in protest, but immediately felt large, clawed paws vibrating against his ribcage. The response was immediate. The poor thing launched backwards, head tilted back with a squeal that dissolved into goofy, bubbly giggles. Toriel laughed with him, playing it off like she was laughing at Sans’ remark. “My, my, Sans,” Tori giggled. “It seems that you now have quite the dedicated audience!”
“N-NO, NO!” Papyrus squirmed in her grasp, but was truly secured by the taller figure. “NO, TICKLING ISN’T FAIR!” He exclaimed all this through giggles (as well as a few embarrassing snorts.) On any other occasion, he would have done his best to hold back his laughter, but the surprise had certainly put him at a disadvantage. He tried his best to shakily curl up into a ball, but found it impossible, as Toriel held his midriff as she tickled. He couldn’t press his knees to his chest if he tried.
Speaking of, now the monstress hugged her victim with one arm, squeezing his hips and knees with the other. Papyrus couldn’t reach his lower half due to the fact that he couldn’t lean down, so he settled for covering his mouth and face through squirms and shrieks. Sans had begun to catch on now, and couldn’t be more amused. “awh, bro, has she goat you good?” Papyrus tried to shout at him, but instantly felt his laughter double when gentle fingers scritched at his underarms. All he could get out was a comedic: “SA-AAAAHAHAHEEHEEHEE!” Instantly, Papyrus’s arms clamped down, revealing his pink, bug-eyed, and rather hysterical looking face. Toriel couldn’t help but laugh at both Sans’ pun and Papyrus’ cute laughter. Sans snorted. “yea, bro? ya don’t have to shout, everybone-y’s right here.” Toriel guffawed again, holding Papyrus close and nuzzling her cheek up against his. She didn’t even expect him to be especially ticklish there, but, sure enough, he let out a loud snort before once again attempting to wriggle away.
As much as Papyrus would protest this, Toriel was not at all being harsh or malicious with him. As a matter of fact, she seldom showed any mischief in her gesture. Though he was held securely, Papyrus was not at all strangled or crushed, and Toriel’s tickling remained gentle, though quick and articulate. He wasn’t hurt or overstimulated, and, though he would never admit it, he was somewhat enjoying the game, as well as the extra attention. Just the same, Toriel was enjoying herself, too. She hadn’t gotten to be a ‘tickle monster’ since….well. Regardless, she absolutely loved having an excuse to be so tickly again. She hadn’t realized Papyrus was the perfect target for this sort of behavior. When her paws batted at the curvature of his spine over his shirt, Papyrus made a new, loud, excitable noise. His hysterical laughter was replaced with high pitched shrieks and squeals. Her eyes lit up and became even a little glassy. Papyrus’ giggles were almost downright boyish. He truly was reminding her of someone else in this state, and it caused her to become even more affectionate. With an overwhelming sense of love, Toriel took Papyrus backwards in her arms again, shooting her fluffy hands up his shirt to scratch at his spine and scribble under his arms and inside his ribs. She began to nuzzle into his neck as she did so. Papyrus’ back arched with a harsh shriek as he kicked his feet out in response, wheezing and squealing to his heart’s delight. Toriel noted that he no longer seemed to squirm with a gentle smile.
“jeez, bro, this is no laughing matter. at this rate, you’ll break the windows.” “YOHOU-YOHOHOU’RE NOT FUNNYEEHEE! NYAHAHEEE!” Was all that Papyrus could say before he threw himself into another fit of infectious giggles. Sans beamed. “you sure, dude? judging by all those giggles ‘n whatever, i’m inclined to say you’re findin’ this pretty humerus.” Reluctantly, Papyrus laughed hard and long in response. “see? you got it, bro, good job.” “SAAHAANS! HEEHEHEELP!” The trapped skeleton wailed, to which Toriel giggled. “How rude, Papyrus, wanting to leave during Sans’ terrific comedy routine!” She scritched at his neck with her claws, watching him squeeze his eyes shut and dissolve into snickers. “Don’t leave so soon, or else he’ll get bonely!” Sans winked at her as Toriel drilled her thumb into the taller skeleton’s hip, evoking a loud gasp. “yeah, pap, it ain’t funny bein’ without my bone-ified bro.” Papyrus’ shaky giggles filled the room once more, though he groaned through them. Toriel mock-gasped, taking this as an excuse to go full on with her game, especially when she realized Papyrus was trying to grab onto the couch and pull himself out of her grasp. “Groaning at your brother’s very kind and loving compliment? I suppose this is worthy of my special attack, Papyrus!”
“NO-NOHO- LADY TORIEHEL- WAHAHAIT- NYEEHEEHEHAHA!” But it was too late. Toriel leaned down and blew a loud raspberry on the side of his spine, taking him down with tickles. By this point, poor Papyrus had begun to hiccup between his giggles, face dusted red with embarrassment. Sans chuckled, but knew his brother better than anyone. “hey, tori, let’s give him a break, ’kay? we wanna leave ‘em laughing, not kill him with laughter.” With that, Toriel giggled awkwardly and let the poor, giggling, snickering skeleton up. After a few moments of dazed giggles and hiccups, Papyrus cleared his throat and sat up, a little dizzy and embarrassed. “W-WELL, MISS TORIEL, YOU MAY HAVE WON THIS TIME, BUT I ASSURE YOU, IF IT WERE NOT FOR MY FATIGUE, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN SO EASILY TROUNCED.” Toriel giggled, rubbing his back to help him recover. “I do apologize, Papyrus, but your real, genuine laugh is much too cute to resist!” This caused Papyrus to blush a little, giggling. “NYEHEH! W-WELL, AT LEAST THROUGH ALL OF THIS, WE ALL RECOGNIZE THAT SANS’ PUNS WERE NOT THE CAUSE FOR MY LAUGHTER, BUT RATHER LADY TORIEL’S RATHER CONCERNING TICKLING SKILLS.”
That got a glare out of Sans that just screamed sibling rivalry. “ya really think so? hey, tor, lemme try somethin’ real quick.” Toriel read the room, holding onto Papyrus once more before he could comprehend squirming away. Sans got up out of the arm chair, slowly creeping towards the captive skeleton with wiggly fingers. “hey, papyrussssss,” That was all it took, apparently. Papyrus immediately squealed, thrashing vigorously. It was the ‘big brother’ role coming into play. No matter how big Papyrus got, he would always fear his brother’s tickles. “SANS, S-STAY BACK, GET AWAYHEHE, SHOO!” But Sans continued forward, finally coming face to face with his trapped brother. Papyrus curled his toes under his socks and let out a shriek. “pap.” Sans couldn’t help but laugh. “‘m not even touching you… yet.”
Knowing he had already endured a lot, Sans skittered his fingers under Papyrus’ chin, as if he were a certain dog they all knew. Papyrus immediately squealed, squirming and giggling softly, making his loved ones smirk. When Papyrus let forth a harsh squeal followed by a loud snort, Sans pulled away, he and Toriel laughing at Papyrus’ cuteness as Sans sat down on the couch beside them.
Papyrus groaned. “WHY ARE YOU TWO LAUGHING? YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO LAUGH ABOUT!” Both settled down, Toriel letting him get off her lap again and settle properly, Sans looking up at him with his signature wink and shrug. “dunno, bro. it’s probably ‘cause you’ve got, like, the goofiest laugh on the entire surface. it cheers everyone up.” “HEY,” His brother snapped back. “... THAT’S TRUE.” His friends chuckled as he pulled them both close, almost in a sort of two-way-snuggle. They snuggled back. He sighed with a playfully frustrated smile and a tired chuckle. “NYEHEH…I SUPPOSE, IF YOU TWO ARE BONEHEADS, AND MY LAUGH IS THE GOOFIEST ON THE SURFACE, THAT MAKES ME A GOOFBALL, DOESN’T IT?” Sans beamed. “the goofiest goofball I know.” “Yes,” Toriel chuckled. “The one us boneheads love the most.” Toriel and Sans once began, albeit a little more sleepily this time, giggled.
This time, Papyrus giggled with them.
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sighingsiren-tales · 2 years
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3 is Never a Crowd Pt. 2
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Alright, I think I’m finding my rhythm again.
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Enjoy
                                                            ____
part 1
 I grab the soft black towel from the rack and wrap it around me. 
I can still hear my heartbeat in my ears. My hair goes in its microfiber towel, the dark color obscuring my tri-colored curls in the mirror. I dry off slowly, the only sound in the room is water disappearing down the drain.
And yet, my thoughts are louder. I let the towel pass over my lower stomach when I hear his words in my head. My cheeks and nose go red; I look like a schoolgirl much to my dismay.  How was I to face him again after the things he said to me? 
After what he heard.
Should I just be casual and act as if nothing happened?
I traced over where his hands were. I can still feel where he had touched my body; The feel of his fingertips seems to linger. Nothing short of longing fills my senses as I find myself craving those touches again. I want to feel him again, I wanted him to hold me in place like that again, even tease me if he wished to. 
I shake my head, hoping the motion serves as a physical means to get him out of my head. I tell myself I am only feeling this way because I’ve dick-deprived since my ex left. The breakup was nothing too personal, or so I told myself. I’d be lying if I said the alternative did not cross my mind. 
Could it have been personal? Did I not do enough? Was I a good enough girlfriend?  I assess my performance as a girlfriend; I did everything that I possibly could to keep him happy. Was I a bother to be around? The budding confidence is overshadowed by guilt. 
My hand runs through the thick strands of my hair, combing through the tangled curls with my fingers.  I brought my hands to my chest, cupping them for a moment, a slight frown playing on my lips. I run my hands down my sides, particularly attentive to feeling the curve of my hips.
Maybe I was not curvy enough? I catch myself before I fall into that dangerous way of thinking. What was I doing? Am I tying my physical worth to the success of a relationship? I roll my eyes and huff at my behavior.
What I was doing was nothing short of ridiculous; Relationships can end naturally, without the societal need to place blame on the other. Switching tactics, my fingers move towards the hair oil on the counter. A quick succession of knocks came at the door. I had just enough time to turn my head and secure my towel before Mingyu cautiously poked his head in. I try to focus on working the brush through my hair, hoping to mask my thoughts. 
“I left my phone in here” He explains sheepishly. 
I nod, waving my hand for him to retrieve it as massage the oil into my scalp. Mingyu’s words echo in my head. Was I too focused on work? And if I was, was that such a bad thing? Is good work ethic not valued anymore? What was the big deal anyway? I like money, so I work to get it. The word ‘excuse’ flashes in my head for a brief moment. I see my eyebrows furrow, visible annoyance clear as day on the reflective surface. 
Looking back for a moment, I catch Mingyu staring at me from the corner of my eye in the mirror. 
“Gyu?” I call him softly. 
He raises his head and meets my eyes.
It was like that for a moment, extended eye contact and silence. 
“Found your phone?” I asked after a few moments, hoping to break the silence. 
His stare had become unnerving in a very sexual way. 
“What are you thinking about?” He asks quietly, fiddling with his phone in his hand as he watches me carefully for a reaction. 
I looked down at the sink for a moment, turning on the water to flush any stray hairs before answering him. 
“Nothing, why do you ask?” I kept focus on putting my brush and detangling oil back in its rightful place. avoiding eye contact with him. Shutting off the water when I was satisfied with the cleanliness of the sink, I turned to walk towards the door. The shuffling behind me let me know that Mingyu was right at my heels. When I reach out to open the door it is immediately closed by a large hand a few inches above my head. I keep my surprise internal. 
“Trapping me in my own bathroom? Odd tactic”. 
The scent of his cologne ensnares me quickly and, as a deprived woman, I was only but so strong. I inhale sharply and, hopefully, unnoticeably. 
“So, you are coming with us tonight? “ His voice was low and very close to my left ear.
I nod slowly, being very careful to keep my back away from his front.
“Yeah, I’m going. Did you need to trap me in my own bathroom to get that answer?”. 
I wanted-no. I needed Mingyu to step away from me. With how close he was and how long it’s been since I had a man’s touch, I about ready to cave-in to the desires of my sex. Until logic reminds me that I could not let his charms overtake me like Wonwoo’s had; He was my best friend, both of them were. The fear of making things between us three awkward was too great to compete with. Using my best friends as rebounds seemed to be the awful idea of the night and I refuse to cave into those desires; All it would do is complicate things after the pleasure wears off. Though, it would be a blatant lie to say that I haven’t thought of either of them in such a way. 
I steel my resolve; I could not and would not think with my sexual needs when a friendship like this was on the line. I can think clearly up until the moment Mingyu makes soft, slow movements with his hand, letting the fingertips dance across the towel before they encase my waist. My resolve turns to spaghetti in seconds. His fingertips skim my lower stomach before he presses his palm flat against me, pulling me into him.
 I inhale to calm myself, to push away the thought of my towel just disappearing for a few moments. Leaning down, his stray strands of hair tickle my ear as his lips near my neck.
“Promise you’re not mad at me. I don’t like when you’re angry with me” His voice was a low husk. 
“No, Mingyu, I'm not angry with you”. 
It is quiet for a moment. 
“Please let me go get dressed” The word please came out as an exhale of breath. 
“I could do that” 
Do you want him to?
Did I want to tell him to let me go? Not necessarily, but what would saying yes entail? What would be the consequences? Could I ever come back from the outcome? Was I ready to open that can of worms? The questions come one after the other in an antagonizing fashion. 
Or, third option, I could say nothing. That way he held me longer and I didn't have to give a definite answer. I felt like such an unbelievable coward for making such a decision but being held like this made all of the anxieties melt away. When he massages my lower back, I feel a low hum vibrate through my body. My cheeks flush as I realize that was audible. 
“W-where’s Wonwoo?” My voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. 
Mingyu gave a feather-like kiss to the slope of my neck; My teeth sank into the flesh of my bottom lip as I tried to keep my reaction internal.
“Don’t worry about him, he stepped out” His answer sounds practiced. 
His other hand lowers from the door and finds a place on my hip. 
“How long are you going to face the door?”.
Guiding me with his hand on my hip, I turn slowly so that I can look at the man behind me. I was eye level with the middle of his chest; I raised my head slowly so I could look into his eyes. 
First mistake of many.
 I notice so many things that I normally overlook such as his arms which look so toned and strong even while encased in his black button up. The first few buttons that were undone gave an amazing peek at his chest. When I looked up at him, his dark hooded eyes were looking for me over thoroughly. 
“Don’t look at me like that”. 
Yet my actions contradicted my words; I still made sure his gaze was meeting mine. He leans down slightly, grabbing my hand and raising it so that it was placed on the back of his neck. I play with the little hairs at the nape of his neck instinctively. I could not ignore the heat of his skin, so hot and so tempting underneath my palm. His hands aren’t rushed; They find their way to my hips, tugging them forward so there is no space between us.
“There you go” He whispers encouragingly against my lips. 
Leaning his forehead against mine, he spoke in a low, sensual tone that I didn’t know he could emanate. 
“I’m only going to ask this once, so please make sure your answer is what you really want” His fingers skim the hills of my breasts, almost everything else obscured by the towel. 
The question never comes. My fingers have long since tangled themselves in his hair and I’ve begun to realize I’m keeping him this close to me. He says nothing still but buries his head in the crook of my neck. A quick brush of his lips against my neck quickly melted half of my resolve. 
His voice was a whisper in my ear, that of a lover promising everything I could’ve asked for. 
“The house could be on fire and the only thing you’d be able to think of would be my hips”.
This cannot be happening right now. Was I being tested?
“If you don’t think I’m serious” A quick bite to my neck, followed by a flick of his tongue. 
“Try me”. 
On instinct, I grab onto the strands of his dark mane and pull his ear towards my lips. I wasn’t able to stop myself and I was still contemplating on whether or not that was a bad thing. I kiss the shell of his ear before I can stop myself. 
The way his arms wrap tightly around my waist is perfect. I can’t say I wanted him to stop. I can’t even say I wanted us to stop there.
“You’re pushing me past my limit Mingyu” My voice is as soft as I’ve ever heard it.
“Then just say yes already” His response was immediate, voice was exasperated. 
He sounds as if he was on thin ice with his patience and the pleasure of knowing that was absolutely intoxicating. 
I shouldn’t say yes to this. He’s my best friend but in no sense of the word was he making this easy for me. Right now, at this moment, I saw him as only a man I wanted and nothing more. A man that I wanted desperately. One hand rose from my waist to cup my jaw firmly, his lips moving to the underside of my jaw.
“Why are you always so fucking stubborn?” He groans slowly, kisses becoming a bit more forceful.
“When have you known me to back down?” My attempt at a joke dies upon delivery; My voice barely goes above a whisper seeing as I had to swap out volume for the concentration necessary to keep my voice steady under his ministrations. 
His soft, plush lips were away from my neck within a second. His eyes looked up at me, the familiar competitive glint in his eye. 
“Do I have to make you?”. 
Please do. 
I could do nothing but watch as he straightened his spine, holding my gaze, as he tugged me impossibly closer. 
“Not close enough” He muttered. 
An inch away. 
That is how far his lips were from mine. 
Then a centimeter. They looked so soft. 
Then about a hair away. I could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. He went 90 percent of the way, and I was silently urging him to go the full 100, convinced that it wouldn’t be so bad if he did it in comparison to if I did it. 
Right fucking then, his phone rang. 
“Damn it” Mingyu swore, grabbing his phone angrily from his pocket and answering the call. 
“This better be fucking good Junhui”. 
“You sound mad~” I heard from the other line.
“Are you done yet?” I heard Wonwoo call accompanied by the closing of a door, presumably the front.
Giving Mingyu a look that I hoped conveyed both my frustration and sympathy, I opened the door and walked out into the hallway, slowly making my way to my bedroom. I mentally went over what just happened in my head about 3 times and I still had absolutely no idea how to feel; Being sexually frustrated was a given, but was I allowed to feel such a way for my best friend? There was no way in hell I was sabotaging a friendship like this because I was dick-deprived; That’d be stupid. 
“Ah, so you are done” Wonwoo’s voice took me from my thoughts quickly. 
“Uh, yeah” A meek reply. 
Out of the frying pan and into the fire I suppose. 
Wonwoo’s amused smirk grew slightly but his eyebrow raised in what I assumed was slight suspicion. 
“Since when do you hesitate before speaking?”.
I mentally cursed his perceptive nature before opening the room to my door and entering, using the action as reason not to look at him directly. I walked over towards my vanity, sitting before it. Wonwoo stays by the door, looking me over thoroughly. 
“I’ll let you be then. Let us know when you’re done”. 
I nodded, mumbling a ‘sure’ just as I began to moisturize and prime my face. Once the door was closed, I let out a sigh of relief before scrambling to grab my phone so I could call someone who had an outside perspective on the situation. 
I took a few deep breaths; Turning on some low music to calm myself, I started my makeup as the phone rang, my safe haven picking up on the third ring. 
“This bitch finally calls” His voice a low timbre that almost immediately had me feeling at ease. 
“I need your brutal honesty” I blurted out. 
“Did you sign the waiver?” Min-Hyuk teased, his voice void of any emotion. 
I roll my eyes although he cannot see, placing the phone on speaker and setting it down on the vanity as I started on my eyeshadow. 
“I’m in some shit” I huff.
“Does it matter that I’m here too?” I heard a voice call from the background, and I smiled fondly at the addition of Hoseok’s voice. 
“No oppa, you’re fine” I assure him. 
“Well speak then” Min-Hyuk again. 
I take a breath, setting down my blending brush as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. 
“I’m attracted to two people at once,” I spoke. 
“That’s an issue? Be for real” 
Min-Hyuk shushes Hoseok. 
“Is this a sex call? Cause if so, I don’t want to hear about your fantastic threesomes”. 
“No, no. If things continue the way they have been, you may be getting one of those calls though” I mumbled, fiddling with my beauty blender as the idea of Wonwoo, Mingyu and I intrusively flashes behind my eyes. 
“Come again now?” I heard Hoseok call from the background in surprise. 
“It’s Wonwoo and Mingyu”.
“Surprise, Surprise” Min-Hyuk adds dryly. 
“Fuck off” I mumble, feeling the blush cover my cheeks. 
“And you want them both?” Hoseok again.
“I’m not sure”
“Not sure? You?” Min-Hyuk asked in slight disbelief. 
Hell, if only he knew.
“You either hate everything or love everything. But very rarely do I hear you’re in between”. 
A pregnant pause. 
“Is this because of Hyung-Won?”.
“No” My answer was immediate and also quite revealing. 
“You sure? You were a little quick to trigger, princess”.
This has nothing to do with him. It did not. 
“It has nothing to do with my ex” I spoke again, trying to focus on applying my mascara rather than my emotions. 
This mascara was expensive, and I’ll be damned if I get more of it on my eyelid than my lashes. 
“If you want my help you have to be honest with me. Is it because of-” 
“Hey guys”. 
I froze. 
It felt as if someone poured ice cold water over my entire body. My stomach drops and I feel my heartbeat quicken before the sound is in my ears. 
I hadn’t heard that voice in months. The voice that used to wake me up in the morning, the voice that used to tell me how amazing I was. The same voice that caressed the words that shattered my heart. I was barely able to move, only listening with bated breath. 
‘Why’d you get so quiet all of a sudden?” That same voice again. 
No one responds, opting for silence. Questions of all sorts swirl around in my head nonstop; I can barely keep up with them and their insinuations. 
“Hey, who’s on the phone- '' I didn’t wait to hear the end of the sentence, ending the call and locking my phone with superhuman speed. 
The Flash would be proud. 
I look down at my hands, focusing on the dark color of my nails and the shape as a way to distract myself. I could only move numbly, turning up the music as I finished getting ready for the evening. 
Why did his voice still have such an effect on me? Why did I freeze up like that? I don’t freeze, I move with purpose. But freezing is exactly what I did when I heard him speak. My mind turns on autopilot as I solidify tonight’s mission in my head: To drive my ex from my mind in all senses of the word. Opting to focus on something else, I choose my physical appearance. I chose natural makeup for the evening, the only thing really standing out being my lips, which were a muted dark red. I left my hair in its natural curly state, the only difference being a side part instead of a middle. I put on my jewelry first, my gold watch, my black skinny choker and eventually my earrings. My heels were next, the bright red bottom standing out amongst the otherwise simple heels. Scanning my closet, I decided on my simple black spaghetti dress that seemed as if it was a perfect mold for my curves. Dragging the dress up and over my hips, I inspect myself in the mirror. 
I seem to be doing that a lot as of lately. I was so unfocused that I barely noticed someone walking into the room. 
“Let me” I heard just as fingers brushed my spine, dragging the zipper up and into place.
I let out a low thank you as Wonwoo completed my look. Looking at myself once, I turned to face him.
“Ready doll?”.
I nod, moving to grab my phone and a nearby clutch; I threw my phone, lipstick and gum inside. Walking out from my room, past Wonwoo and towards the kitchen, I came face to face with Mingyu. He was leaning against the wall near the front door, the sound of my heels likely causing him to raise his head. I saw his eyes widen a fraction before he stood up straight and assessed my outfit. 
“Where did you get that dress?” He asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at me.
Something in his stare is familiar and I feel the heat creep up my neck. Scanning the kitchen for my keys and wallet, I simply offer a slight chuckle to his words. 
“The point of tonight was to have fun, yes?” I spoke, throwing the aforementioned items into my bag and walking towards the door. 
I vaguely hear Wonwoo’s voice behind me telling me that we were taking his car. I took note of that, stopping in front of his car parked in the driveway and waiting for him to unlock it. As I slid into the backseat, my phone buzzed twice, and I unlocked it just as the car began to pull off. 
Min-Hyuk (9:02 pm): Don’t think that was the last time we’re talking about this. 
My heart nearly stops at the next message. 
Min-Hyuk (9:03 pm): ...He wants to talk to you.
I locked my phone once more, placing it back inside of my clutch as I promised myself that I wouldn’t touch it for the rest of the night. Tonight, was about forgetting him and that was exactly what I planned on doing. The rest of the ride was a blur of thoughts, mild joking and loud music. I was thankful for the distractions that my best friends provided, although they most likely had no idea that they were providing said services. Wonwoo was the first to step out when we arrived, tossing his keys to the valet. I step out of the car just after Mingyu, immediately catching the eyes of the other boys who decided to meet us here, their presence not going unnoticed seeing as females were flocking to them already. I scanned over their faces quickly, recognizing that only Jeonghan, Jun, Soonyoung and Seungcheol decided to join the excursion. Jun’s eyes flitted away from the girl he was speaking to for a moment, before landing on me and I gave him a smile accompanied with a nod at the woman he was looking to pursue for the evening. He did the same, minus the nod and I rolled my eyes playfully at his nature. 
“And so, the hermit emerges” Jeonghan spoke, voice as smooth as ever. 
I looked over at the prince in question, rolling my eyes at the sentiment and placing a hand on my hip. 
“Ignoring that, Hi Soonyoung!” I spoke towards the gentleman of the bunch. 
He looks over towards me, looking absolutely stunning with his hair combed away from his face. He steps forward to give me a hug, a simple arm sneaking around my waist and pressing me against him. 
“How are you feeling?” He spoke directly in my ear. 
I pull away from the hug, meeting his smile with one of my own after telling him I was doing well, knowing exactly what he was referring to. 
“Finally left the kids at home, huh?” I said, referring to Seungcheol who, for some reason, decided to expose his forehead as well, his hair now a gorgeous silver. 
“And yet, they’re not the only ones calling me daddy” His voice a confident rumble. 
I raised my eyebrows at the statement as he pulled me into a warm hug, arms around my waist. Pulling away, I poked at his chest playfully. 
“You’re explaining that statement once we get inside”. 
As I walked forward arm and arm with Soonyoung, who was practically itching to get inside whilst speaking about his endeavors, we heard a voice addressing all of us from behind. 
“Forgetting something?” Jun called, quickly catching up to us just as we made it to the door. 
“Nothing important” Jeonghan quipped, eliciting a few chuckles. 
The evening thus far went pretty well and, a few drinks and a table later, the 8 of us were laughing about some horrible sex story that Jeonghan decided to tell. The buzz that the alcohol provided was just what I needed to let loose and forget about Hyung-Won for the night; The pure giddiness of being care-free was absolutely amazing. Just then, a dark bass took over the club, the lights dimming so that only those who were seated would be able to see, barely. The dance floor was crowded within minutes, the dark-colored strobe lights only give a semi-visible peek at the bodies pressed up against each other. 
“Well ladies, I’m going to dance,” Seungcheol starts, standing up and straightening his shirt.
“He means have sex with clothes on” Jeonghan supplied, causing Seungcheol to flash him a knowing smile. 
“Same thing. Who’s coming?” At Seungcheol’s question, Jun immediately stood up with an excited “me” followed by Soonyoung. 
Feeling more than a little buzzed and very confident, I threw back the last of my shot and stood, receiving a look of surprise from the remaining males. I only gave them a dark smile, following the other 3 men to the dance floor. Seungcheol immediately got lost in the crowd, the women of the night no doubt giving him exactly what he wanted. I stayed with Soonyoung, whose firetruck red hair combed in a side part away from his face was surprisingly sexy if the women flocking him were anything to go by and the lovely, ever so flirtatious Jun. A pretty brunette, who was fairly tipsy and quite cute, barreled into me just as the song changed. The alcohol in my system caused me to laugh right along with her as she attempted to apologize. I only shook my head, assuring her it was okay, causing her to pull me with her, further into the crowd. 
“I love this song, dance with me?” She asked in my ear, the only way we could communicate due to the volume of the music. 
I nod excitedly and begin to sway my hips to the beat of the song. Not even a full minute into the song, Soonyoung was behind her, his hands firmly on her waist to control her movements. I was slightly shocked at how quickly Soonyoung went from sunshine to sex appeal, his hips moving in ways I didn’t think possible from him. A slight turn to my left and I could see that Seungcheol was doing the same with a dark-haired beauty, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in pleasure. The brunette let her head roll back onto Soonyoung’s shoulder, who was looking down at her hips intensely, and gave me a look I recognized; A look that screamed “This one’s mine”. I smirk in response before letting myself enjoy the song and alcohol. Caught up in my own fun I begin to realize we’re one short. Where was-
“I’ve never seen you dance before” I heard a breathy yet familiar voice husk in my ear. 
Smiling, I lean back onto the broad shoulders of the man behind me with a slight hum, his only response being an arm going around my waist, fingers brushing against my lower stomach.
“Really?” I sound unsure if he could hear me. 
 I let my hips rock back slowly into his as the dark beat of the music took over both his body and mine. I could see the women watching us with envy and the thought made a dark smile cross my lips. 
“The women here want my head on a platter Junhui and that is all your fault” My voice was so low I knew only he could hear. 
I leaned back more so I could look up at him from inches below. 
One side of his mouth quirks up, showing just a hint of teeth as he let his free hand trail down my bare shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
“Mm, I bet. Should we make them angrier?” He questioned, his voice a dark whisper. 
I giggled at his words, fucking giggled-A fantastic indicator of how quickly I was approaching complete intoxication. 
“You’re no good Jun” I hum.
“Like you’re any better”.
Taking a step back from our intimate dance, he turned me towards him with a hand on my hip.
His eyes were dark, his features relaxed and confident as he spoke while simultaneously pressing me against him with a hand on the lowest part of my back.
“I don’t even need to control you” His gaze wanders.
“You’re moving your hips just how I like” His dark compliment fuels a fire in me. 
I press against him sensually, running my hands slowly over the plane of his chest as I look up at him from underneath hooded eyes. I could not understand why this felt more non-committal than earlier, but I suppose that was the fun of it; It was just a bit of fun and nothing more. 
He chuckles before inhaling and letting his hand caress the back of my neck. His fingers dance down to my waistline. 
“You should really see the looks that we’re getting”. 
“Scared you won’t be able to find a girl to take home after this?” I tease, pushing my face closer to his. 
A pretty smile graces his lips. I catch sight of him rolling his eyes in the dark lighting.
“Yeah, cause I’m worried about them” He quips sarcastically.
I let a slow smile grace my features, pulling up ever so slightly so that I could let both hands slip up, over the plane of his chest. The muscles ripple beautifully beneath my palms before I bring my hand rest at the back of his neck, the other one firmly on his chest. 
“That so?” I asked, unable to tear my gaze away from his chest.
But the roll of my hips is enough to cause a dark smile to grace his features. Jun lets his fingers skim the tip of my chin before he takes my hand from his neck, gripping it ever so slightly, and using it to turn me face away from him. His other hand is sneaking down to the flesh of my upper thigh and gripping it before I can stop him. He kept me against him as he spoke, allowing me to fully experience just how well his hips moved. 
“Do you really think that any of these women would turn me down if I asked them to fuck me, right now?”. 
Before I could even answer he let both hands grip my hips, rolling them a bit slower while leaning down so his breath was fanning my ear. I let him control the rhythm and I kept up as best I could. I could’ve sworn I heard a noise from him.
“Better yet, do you think they could?”. 
I let out a low hum, as he pulled me back into him, letting his powerful hips roll sinfully into mine. I follow his rhythm quickly, slowing down to suit his wants. 
“You learn quick” He breathes in my ear. 
 His movements were fluid, the roll of his body reminiscent of an ocean. Leaning back onto his shoulder while following his lead, I let his scent intoxicate me. He smells so so good. 
“I like it when you let me lead” His voice a slight husk.
“Jun”. 
This is the alcohol talking, it has to be.
“Mm” He chuckled, leaning down so his lips were nearly against my neck. 
“A moan already?” His voice was light, teasing even.
“You’re way too cocky” I spoke, letting out a breathy chuckle. 
“Give me a reason not to be” His response is quick and before I know it, he is placing a quick feather-like kiss on the slope of my neck. 
“And until you can do so” Within a second, he had spun me around by my hips, leaning down ever so slightly. I felt apprehension and fear grip me the closer he got to my face, but my fears were unfounded the moment his hands went underneath my thighs and hoisted me up. 
On instinct, I grip his shoulders as he guides my legs to wind around his waist, his hands wandering over my thighs; I am not used to being at such a height.
Giggles escape me.
“Have you always been so tall, Junhui?”.
 I don’t know if it was sober me or intoxicated me that didn’t care that we were in such a position in the middle of a club, surrounded by people; I was only sure of the fact that I did not care. Why in fucks name did this have to feel so good? This is the dick-deprivation talking. It has to be. His hands, the way he moves his body, the way he spoke to me, all of it. Dick-deprivation. 
“Let me show you why I’m so cocky” His eyes never left mine, the sexual tension raised by eons just from the look he gave me.
“Do not make promises you cannot keep” I teased, the devious glint in his eye no doubt mirrored my own.
“All I do is speak the truth. No cockiness, just confidence” He assured me, his hands wandering over the curve of my ass before he let it press into the small of my back, letting me down in a slow sensual glide along his own body. 
His gaze flickered over to a specific booth, a sexy smile taking its rightful place on his lips before he let out a chuckle.
“If your guard dogs weren’t glaring at me, you’d be mine right here against this wall, on the bar and everywhere else I could find” The initial image of his words was hard to hide, causing a familiar return of a throbbing between my legs.
He was attractive and I was dick deprived. Sue me.
“Yeah?” The alcohol in my system is not giving me enough time to gather the sense to look up and over towards the two men watching me intently.
“But” He counters, maneuvering so he could look me in my eyes as he spoke. 
“Mingyu is just about ready to rip my head off and Wonwoo is going to help him burn the body if I don’t get away from you in the next 5 seconds” 
“I take it back then, you’re not entirely stupid” Jeonghan’s smooth voice came above the music causing us both to look at him. 
His hair was a cascade of colored tresses framing his face and moving oh so effortlessly with the movements of his head as he looked back over toward the booth from where he came.
“Junhui, please stay here and away from Mingyu for the rest of the night”. 
Jun waved his hand flippantly, making it so the only contact he had with me was an arm around my waist loosely. 
“I’ll talk it over with Wonwoo. They can’t be that mad”.
Jeonghan raised a single eyebrow to challenge that.
“I don’t know how seductive you think you are but trust me, you don’t want to talk to him either. He’s actually scarier right now” 
“Seriously?” Jun asked, amusement taking over his features. 
“So, if you want my two cents, I advise that you let her go and find another female for the night” He turns toward me with an amused expression after seeing Jun pout. 
“As for you, please tell me that you have stamina” he took the liberty of removing me from Jun’s hold and ushering me towards the table with a hand on the small of my back. 
“And if I did?” I asked, eyebrows raised as he began to walk over towards the booth. 
“Then it saves you a shit ton of embarrassment” 
“Embarrassment? Whatever for?” I chuckle, cocking my head to the side in confusion.
“Have you ever had to explain to a doctor that you passed out because of excessive sexual stimulation?”
Did I ever have to do what now?
 His words took a moment to register but once they did, I could practically see my expression of absolute surprise, excitement and slight fear mirrored in his eyes. Taking into account my expression, he continued with a renewed tone.
“Yeah, me either. Let’s keep it that way” With that, I was off towards the booth.
Looking at Mingyu and Wonwoo in this particular moment felt like I was looking at them through lens that wasn’t my own. Mingyu had his jaw clenched in a way that caused me to take my bottom lip between my teeth. Wonwoo, on the other hand, had a calm look on his face but his underlying playful nature was nowhere to be found. In other words, they both looked absolutely terrifying and yet, still sexy. The joke of it all was, I wasn’t sure if this was the alcohol talking or not. Once I reached the table, I laid my hand on Mingyu’s shoulder.
“You look angry Gyu” I commented as my fingers traveled upwards to tangle themselves in his hair
“An oblivious drunk? Noted” Jeonghan quips from his place next to me.
Turning back to face him, I was met face to face with a smiling Jeonghan. 
“I am not drunk” I protest.
I smile at my boys and their eyes soften.
“Just tipsy”. 
“Wonwoo” I called to him, noticing an amused smile playing on his lips. 
“Yes doll?”
“Why is Mingyu so angry with me?” I asked, my intoxication making it that much harder to deduce reasoning. Was I slurring? Did that matter? Mingyu is angry, presumably with me. Why was he so angry?
Wonwoo chuckles just as Jeonghan claims he was getting a drink.
“He’s right there. Ask him yourself”.  Standing from the booth abruptly, Mingyu grabs my hand and pulls me with him in some unknown direction. The calls of his name escaping my lips did nothing to slow him down. He only came to a stop when he found a dark booth, hidden away from the immediate crowd of people and very dimly lit. His eyes find mine in the dark. I can still feel their gaze even though I cannot see them clearly.
“You want to get over your ex?” He asks harshly, his hands already finding their way to my hips. 
“Gee, what gave it away? "I giggle.
He snorts.
“You, hiding away from civilization for months was a great indicator”.
A burst of laughter, from me surprisingly. 
“Fuck off Mingyu” No malice within my words.
It is quiet for a moment before he repeats himself.
“Do you, or don’t you?”
I nod, once, looking him over thoroughly. The air seems to shift within a second.
“I don’t see what you plan to do about that-” 
“Shut up. Yes or no” He husked, his face dangerously close to mine.
“Gyu” I began, my words fading into nothing as I realized I had nothing to say. 
“Fuck it, I don’t have time for you to be stubborn”. 
What the hell does that mean? 
In a quick tug of my hips, I found out exactly what that meant. Who knew my best friend had such soft lips? 
249 notes · View notes
gumnut-logic · 1 year
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“On the surface, Gordon Tracy is a simple man. A sunny smile, always likes a joke, give him a body of water and you can lose him in it.
“Any body of water.
“I once lost him in the bath.
“Though, you could probably relate that back to point number two and the liking a joke thing.
“Yes, Gordon is a simple man.
“On the surface.
“But only on the surface, because really, he is anything but.
“Meeting that smile under those laughing brown eyes and strawberry blond hair, you could be forgiven for thinking he is a joker out to make fun. You could miss the assessing eyes, the grace with which he walks, the hidden tells of experience and trial. You can’t see the scars; you can’t see the knowledge or the training.
“You could shake his hand and share that laugh and not know how many times that hand has reached out to grab another, to offer another chance, to save a life. You’ve never watched it dance across a control panel leagues under the ocean surface in the dark. You’ve never seen it push down on a ribcage to keep a heart beating.
“You’ve never seen it gently cup a handful of seawater to save a tiny fish caught in a drying rock pool.
“If you shared that joke, you would not know its history and how such jokes kept him from the edge during some of his darkest days.
“You could know of his brothers and the billions, of International Rescue, the Olympic Gold Medal, the party scene he played for all of six months in his teens. You may even know of his military career with WASP.
“But you won’t know Gordon.
“Because the laughter and the jokes? They are only his facade, a method to cope, a philosophy to guide his life. They are a reason to laugh rather than cry.
“Underneath there is a man of great feeling, a young mind full of wonder that has been slapped back so many times that now getting back up is the default.
“You could look at him and think ‘a billionaire, what does he have to worry about?’ But really, it only takes one life changing disaster to crush a man. Gordon has faced so many more.
“He has four brothers, a sister and a grandmother all of which it is obvious he cherishes deeply. He has friends and heroes and a growing love that needs nurturing like a flickering flame. But he is ever aware that these things are temporary, that they can be taken away suddenly and irrevocably. He has seen the glassiness of death and faced down the reaper himself.
“So.
“The laughter.
“The dye in the shampoo.
“The pillow in the pool.
“The itching powder on the bath towel.
“The hell let loose on April Fool’s Day every damn year.
“They are but a symptom of the man you are facing, and yet so why you are going to regret what you are doing.”
Virgil blinked and as if on cue, his brother stepped out of the shadows behind Virgil’s tormentor and, with a move Kayo would have applauded, wrenched his arm behind his back, took his knees out from under him and pinned him to the floor. Another blink and the man was restrained and gagged.
A pair of russet brown eyes swam into his vision, dark in the sharp shadows of the harsh lamp light. “Hey, Virg, that was some speech. Who knew you could be so eloquent under pressure.”
“He’s strong. He’s going to kick your ass.”
“Hey, hey, Virgil. I’m Gordon, remember? The joker guy you said was going to save your ass.” There were fingers fiddling with his restraints. “C’mon, we gotta get you out of here. Won’t be long before they discover I escaped.”
“Don’t underestimate my brother. He’s funny, but he’s so much more.”
“In any other circumstances, I’d be lapping this up, but Virgil, we need to get you onto your feet. I’m strong, but not strong enough for your heavy lifting. C’mon, up you get.” He was being pulled up. His body creaked.
“Gordon is going to come. You’re going to regret it.”
“Yes, yes, help me here, Virgil. I did come. I’m here. It is time to go.”
“You’re going to regret it.”
“Okay, arm over my shoulder, we gotta move!” A grunt. “What the hell did they give you?! Some kind of truth serum?”
“You want to know the truth?” Oooh, the world was wobbling. “Gordon can be scary. You’re going to regret it so much.”
“Ah, yeah, you’ve mentioned that, Virgil. Um, you’re going to have to be quiet for a bit. We have to sneak past some bad guys.”
“Bad guys want to hurt Gordon. Can’t let them hurt Gordon. Tried to kick their asses, but I’m not like Gordon or Scott, couldn’t do it. Too many. Now they want to hurt Gordon. Can’t let them hurt him. No, no, can’t...”
“Shit. Virgil, shhh! Just be quiet for a minute, please.”
Quiet. He blinked. Augh, the world was even wobblier. Gordon was coming. Gordon was coming. “Can’t let them hurt Gordon-“ There was suddenly a hand over his mouth. He panicked and struggled. A muffled yell and he found himself falling, the world spinning until his head hit something hard and he saw stars.
The world became only sound from then on. Voices, more yelling, the thud of flesh hitting flesh, a gunshot. Virgil jumped at its sharp crack. Someone swore. A snap that could only be bone. A thud and then silence.
The world began to drift away.
“Virgil?! You with me? C’mon, bro, please.”
A slow blink. Blurry images. “Gordon?”
“Yes. You with me?”
“Knew you would come. Kick their ass.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that.” A sigh. “Can you stand?”
Another slow blink. “Don’t mess with my brother, he’ll kick your ass.”
“I’ll take that as a maybe.” Gordon was tugging on his arm, so Virgil tried to stand. Woah. The whole world tipped on its edge and swung him around. “Shit!”
“Sorry, bro, but we gotta move now. You can throw up on my shoes later.” And then he was in motion.
The blurs burred together. He squeezed his face shut and clung to the man holding him, desperate for it all to stop.
Make it stop.
“Not much longer, Virgil, I promise.” It was little more than a whisper.
Another stomach churning drag across a blurry room and suddenly everything went green.
Oh.
Oh.
He knew that green. That smell. Oh, his beautiful ‘bird.
“Sit here.” He was being lowered onto a hard surface. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And Gordon was gone.
Gone.
“Gordon?”
A yell, followed by a scream and a thud. A litany of curses he didn’t know his brother even knew.
“Gordon?”
“It’s okay. I’m here.” Hands on his. “We’re okay, but we need to be fast.” He was pulled up again, his arm wrapped around shoulders and they were moving.
He lost a moment only to find himself sitting in a chair. A familiar chair with a familiar roar building in his bones. “Two.”
“Yeah, Virg, we’re on your ‘bird. Hang tight, because I’m afraid I might have to scratch her paintwork.”
“You wouldn’t do that. We only joke about it.”
“Well, I’m not in a joking mood right now.” The sound that followed that statement cut through the roar.
Her laser. He was using her laser.
He forced his eyes open and yes, he could see the red glow through the blur. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting our way out of here.”
“Where?”
“They stole your ‘bird, Virg. Remember?”
Voices on the edge of his hearing. Yelling. Another gunshot. Men.
It had been a trap and they had been caught and Virgil had been separated from his brother. His little brother. Please don’t hurt his brother. Please!
“It’s okay, we’re escaping. Another five seconds. Hang in there, Virgil.”
But Gordon was strong. He would kick their asses.
Oh god, please don’t hurt him. Please don’t. I tried. I really tried. Not enough. Not enough. Please don’t hurt him.
A loud crash and his body was shoved back into the seat. His head spun again.
His Thunderbird roared. Her rear thrusters kicked in and sung in his bones. His body lifted from the Earth and tore into the sky.
He let out a gasp, the sudden familiarity heart-stopping.
“Thunderbird Five, you there?”
“Gordon! Thank, God. What happened?”
“Brief you shortly. I need to get Virgil to a hospital, but first I want to put some distance between us and the bastards who hurt him. Please advise Wellington that we will be...”
His brother’s voice faded out, taken by the blur and the hissing of blood in his ears.
-o-o-o-
“C’mon, Virgil, I know you’re in there. Time to wake up.”
What?
“Viiiiirgiiiiil.” Gordon. It was Gordon and he was singing his name.
Ugh.
He shoved his eyes open and glared at his brother. “What?!”
“Ooh, welcome back to the land of the living. Nice entrance.”
“Gordon, what the hell? Let me sleep.”
“Nope.” His lips popped on the ‘p’.
Virgil’s eyes closed a moment and it took him a second to realise they had. He shoved them open again.
Ceiling tiles.
He was in hospital.
“Why am I in hospital?” He searched his slowly booting brain, but found no recollection of injury other than...
He sat up in bed. “It was a trap! They stole my-“ And the world caught up with him and whacked him around the head.
Two sets of hands caught him as he fell back towards the pillow. “Shit.”
“Take it easy, Virgil, you’ve been through quite a bit.”
His body sunk into the bed. Scott. Thank god. So happy to hear his brother’s voice.
He frowned. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“Callout. Central Texas. Gas explosion. No fly zone. It was a trap. Nabbed me. Nabbed Gordon. Wanted Two...” He frowned. “Gets fuzzy. A fight. I lost?”
“We think so. You have quite a lot of bruising, a couple of cracked ribs and two head injuries.”
“Two?”
“Yeah, and you also had a bloodstream full of some nasty chemicals. They drugged you pretty bad. Took the doctors some time to identify with exactly what. You’ve been mostly out of it for a couple of days.”
“Days?!”
“You were unconscious for most of it.”
A frown. “Most of it?” He didn’t remember any of it.
“Yeah.”
He eyed his eldest brother and was somewhat unnerved by the fact he wasn’t keeping eye contact. “What did I do?”
“Nothing of importance.”
“Like what?”
“There was some delirium. Look, Virg, you were ill. Don’t worry about it.”
He stared at his brother a moment longer. Perhaps not knowing was a good thing, but then...perhaps he could third degree his brother later when he had more stamina.
“How did we get out?”
Scott nodded in Gordon’s direction. “Gordon got you out. Five couldn’t find you. They had tech enough to baffle our sensors.” And it was obvious that Scott hated that with a passion.
Virgil turned to his younger brother. “You got us out? How?”
“Oh, with my wily skillz and sense of humour.” Gordon grinned at him.
Virgil’s lips thinned. “Does that mean you’re not going to tell me, or that I should nag you until you do?”
“Have at it, big bro, and we’ll see how it slides.”
Augh. He so did not have the energy for this. “Gordon!”
“Yessssh, Massster?”
He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. “Fine. We will discuss it later.”
“Cool. I’ll bring snacks.”
A sigh and he opened his eyes to assess his little brother. “You okay?”
“Yep, just fine and dandy. You’re the one sporting all the bruises this time, bro. You’re the one who will have to be nagged to rest regularly, eat regularly and get tortured by Grandma’s home cooking.”
Virgil stared at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yepper doodles.”
“What?!”
“Virg, don’t you worry your little head about it. Just rest and take it easy.” A hand landed on his arm and squeezed gently.
He was still staring. “Scott, did he get checked over?”
“He’s fine, Virgil. Stop worrying.” A sigh. “He’s just being Gordon...and if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to kick his ass.”
Kick his ass.
Virgil blinked. “You got us out of there.”
“That I did.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, bro.” A grin split his little brother’s face, but something flickered in the depths of his eyes for just a second. Virgil frowned, but it was gone too quickly. Gordon’s grin took over everything.
“Anytime.”
-o-o-o-
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rococospade · 7 months
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Have some Letho attempts, in oil paints(!)
Art, life and cat updates under the cut.
Art update:
I’ve opened commissions again for the next two months (October-November 2023). The last one in my queue is nearly finished, and I’m excited to share it — though I’ll have to crop the tumblr version substantially. I’ve also been working on tutorial content for digital painting. Monie’s been poking me for years to do one on sheer fabric, and I’m trying to edit that between other tasks. I’ve thought about doing one for scars as well — is there anything you struggle with that you’d be interested to see a tutorial or tip-sheet for?
In terms of personal work I’ve struggled to connect with my digital painting in the last few months, so I’ve been working more with traditional mediums. I love watercolour, I’ve been fiddling with my oil pastels since I don’t want them to go bad (they keep for about 3 years past opening, apparently) and I’ve wanted to try oil painting for years. Last week I finally took the leap and bought some water soluble oil paints: pictured above is my first attempt with them.
Oil paints are slippery little bastards — I had a teacher tell me “it’s like painting with colourful mud” over a decade ago when discussing them, and that sort of prepared me. I finally get it. They move constantly, even if it looks dry it’s likely not, I have no idea what I’m doing, disposal is a pain, I am wrong at every step, and I love them. Oil painting looks so cool! It’s so much easier to rework than acrylics! This is not always a good thing! I’m having a great time :)
Naturally, upon getting a new and notoriously difficult medium, I dispensed with looking up guides (surely things I watched or read months and years ago are sufficient for right now?) and sat down to screw around with the paints a few evenings ago. This resulted in a muddy mess even with a limited palette, but I’m a toxic goblin who doesn’t learn, so I shrugged and started working with the muddy tones to try and fix it.
@silverscalestudios was kind enough to give me a quick and dirty explanation on workflow when they found out what I was doing. Thank you again for that! I spent a while last night reading about various forms of underpainting because of you, and will give brunaille a try. I knew underpaintings were a thing but I didn’t know *why* or how important they really are — it didn’t occur to me the oil colours would be so transparent. Hopefully the next picture will be a little bit neater as a result of your intervention — thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me about it!
I found some useful videos on YouTube as well, but I’m struggling with colour temperature shifts. Some studies might be in order.
As usual I’m not satisfied with anything I do for long. My current goals are to learn more of the body’s simplified muscle groups, simplify my compositions more, and make more illustrations with character interaction as the focus. Also, I guess, to gain some competence with the mediums I’m playing with — but that’s a bonus more than a goal. Oil pastels especially are just so pleasant to work with that even if I hate the result, the process is too enjoyable to complain. And failure is how we learn.
Potentially useful tip, buried for anyone who read this far: assign yourself studies for the projects you’re currently working on. This took me far too long to learn, but if you struggle with doing general studies for the sake of them, do them to prep for a specific painting instead. If you suspect something will be difficult (the hand gesture, the colour scheme, lighting, expression, whatever) grab or make some ref and doing a couple of studies, so you can fail quickly and make ugly versions. It’s a huge timesaver when it comes to the final piece. My big, detailed paintings usually take 10-20 hours, so I’d like to get any difficult elements sorted before I start whenever possible.
For an example of studies for a painting: the four roughly scribbled Letho’s in coloured pencil on this post — those were done after I had my composition sketched onto the canvas, to figure out what I wanted to do for colours. And I’m glad I did! I tried the analogous scheme on a whim, and if I hadn’t done this study, I’d have played it safe and gone with a mostly neutral palette. Next time I’ll also do some lighting studies so I have a detailed plan for those before I start painting. Traditional media in general involves a lot more concrete planning than digital, and working with it is underscoring how many bad habits I have — especially with massively reworking paintings mid-process.
I did have a photo reference I was using for this painting (one of the images from the rogue warrior reference pack by Noah Bradley) with the lighting and hair modified to try to resemble something I’d seen another digital artist do, and by awkwardly tilting an asaro head in my kitchen to figure out how the lighting would work. There’s a relatively common lighting scheme in anime-esque art where just the tip of the nose is lit. It’s cute, but playing with the asaro head, I found that the top half of the area around the mouth should also catch at least a bit of light. The lighting ended up being repainted into something more standard for this, but you can see the triangle of light on the upper mouth area in the wips.
Life update:
Well, it was a nice run, but spouse and I finally caught corona last month >< that was horrible. I got lucky, in that I only had for a week or so and it was a mild case. Now I’ve mostly recovered except for a cough. “Mild” is still probably the sickest I’ve been in my life. Do not recommend. Will be going for the booster as soon as I’m able to, I do not want that shit ever again.
I’ve been doing a bunch of new things like sashiko (satisfying), trying to make pie crust (hard! But delicious, and the ingredients are cheap enough that I don’t cry over failure. Please give making pie crust a try, if you haven’t, it’s really not that complicated — the recipe I’m using only calls for 3-4 ingredients, and it’s so versatile. We’ve had like four quiches in the last week and a half) and trying to cook more. Adulting is hard. I’m also considering more decorative embroidery attempts, because I’m reentering my goth phase and want to customise my clothes with little mushrooms and skulls :) it would be cute.
About the cats:
Cloud is cancer-free! She has to get rechecks every three months, but the little monster made it. She celebrates by trying to sleep with her butthole on my face, which is terrible. I love her dearly. I wish she would stop with the butthole thing though.
Sheik is currently taking her turn as the cat with medical problems. She couldn’t eat for a few days and the vet rushed us in when we called. The vet came in and informed me that she wasn’t eating… because she had gas. It’s in her small intestine, which isn’t supposed to have gas in it for cats? Good job, you little weirdo. She’s getting further checks or it this month.
We also adopted an adolescent cat. He’s bonded very well with Tez, whom our other cats — well, they don’t hate him, but they’re a bit aloof. Tez is very big and a bit like a bowling ball with teeth, and most of our cats are old (or Jetta, who is full of bitter hate) and do not appreciate being tackled by said bowling ball. The kitten loves him, and Tez seems much happier for the company. He’s more gentle with kittens than adults. Not all of the cats are thrilled, but our oldest queens have accepted the kitten, so it should be smoother sailing from here. Unfortunately they like to play at 8am, so I am suddenly on an adult sleep schedule for the first time since working from home. Nothing like a teenage cat launching himself onto your abdomen to get the day started :) They were yelling at each other as I typed this, but now he’s laying beside me like a prince. … and attacking my cardigan. Nevermind.
Currently trying to find more ways to install cat climbs and enrichment, since we’re running out of corners for cat trees. Debating the merits of a cat run — we have very tall walls, which is neat but also I don’t trust these guys not to fall off. If we could spring for a modular system that would be neat.
If you’re getting two cats, pro tip: get two with similar coat patterns but different sizes. You will hate yourself. It’s very funny, and you can disorient any house guests!
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originium-archives · 1 year
Note
I’d like to request Meteor with a shy reader, I’d like to think that Meteor would take them out on a date and maybe teach them to shoot? Thank you
Meteor X Shy!Reader
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She was strolling through the corridor as light on her feet as always, looking for a certain person who made her feel like she was basking in the warm spring sun.
Meteor smiled to herself, today was finally the day, she is going to ask you out on a date.
Her steps slowly came to a halt as her emerald eyes fell on you, sitting by a nearby table staring into space.
Eyes narrowing with fondness, she couldn't help herself and pounced on you, hugging you from behind.
“Wah-”, you let out a little startled noise as she giggled and hugged you even closer.
“Did I scare you? Haha.”
“M-Meteor! Why did you do that?”, you couldn't help but bury your burning face in her arm.
“Aww don’t be mad, you were just too cute spacing out like that.”, she said, placing her cheek on your head, not letting you wiggle out of her embrace.
Her compliment and closeness made you feel butterflies, it’s not like this is the first time she hugged you but it somehow felt better than before.
She noticed your quietness and quickly let go of you, she crouched down so you couldn't avoid her eyes.
“Are you angry? Come on…I'll make it up to you okay?”, she said placing her hands on your knees, she sweetly smiled at you waiting for your response.
“You'd have to do a lot more than that to get me mad at you Meteor…”, you mumbled, avoiding her gaze with your face still flushed.
She turned her head away, which made you look up and your heart skipped a beat, the pink dusting her cheeks made her look even prettier. 
“That makes me strangely happy…”, she says as she turns her attention back to you. 
“So…I actually came here to ask you something.”, she says leaning in a bit closer.
“What is it?”, you asked, trying to lean back as far as you could.
She takes a quick breath and looks at you with full determination,
“Can I take you out on a date?”
Her hopeful eyes never leaving your face, she patiently waited for you.
“Wha-...you-”, you stumbled on your words, her question left your heart racing and your mouth dry.
Your silence made her nervous, 
“So?”she asked, fiddling with her hands.
Swallowing your anxiety you answered,
“I’d love to.”
This made her beam, she shot up and once again gathered you in her arms almost lifting you off the ground.
“Let’s go!”, she said as she let go of you, pulling you by the hand.
Walking side by side and holding hands, she hummed a gentle tune occasionally glancing at you and smiling brightly.
Still not knowing where she is taking you, you asked your overly cheerful companion.
“So…”
“Hmm?”, she cooed as she peered into your face, admittedly way too close.
You took a step back, but she was quick to close the gap between you, a chase was a hunters thrill after all.
Her closeness cast away any questions on your mind, she leaned even closer making you swallow hard. 
Pushing even further into your space, she tugged you closer to her as she snaked her arms around the small of your back.
Your breath hitched and heart thrashed in anticipation, you squeezed your eyes shut.
She was quiet, but before you could open your eyes you felt her blow a breath of air into your face.
This took you off guard, opening your eyes in a hurry. You felt the embarrassment creep onto your cheeks as you saw her mischievous grin.
“Were you expecting something else?”, she giggled, teasing you as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
“N-no…”, you grumbled as you tried to change the subject,
“Where are we going anyways?”
“To the shooting range, I thought I could give you some pointers.”, she said smiling.
“Pfft- that's very like you.”, you said laughing.
“I suppose…”, she mumbled, not meeting your eyes.
The conversation was cut short as you stepped in front of the shooting range's door, Meteor pushed it open letting you walk inside.
Quite a few other operators were in the middle of doing their own thing, but nobody paid any mind to your private training session.
Gathering the necessary equipment she walked you over to an open booth.
“I think I’ll show you first.”, she said as she picked up her bow and gracefully lifted it up to shoot. Breathing in she drew the string as far as she could and in a blink the arrow soared across the range, hitting the target in the dead center.
“Wow…”, you couldn't help but be in awe, you've seen her in action before but never this close.
“No need to be that impressed, I was just showing off.”, she winked at you playfully.
“Now it’s your turn.”, she gently placed the bow and arrows in your hands.
“Okay, I’ll try.”, you said as you tried to get a feel for the bow. It was light in your hands, the grip slightly rough but manageable.
You tried to remember how Meteor held it, the way she stood. You glanced at her before taking the first shot and she gave you an encouraging nod.
The bowstring took more strength then expected to pull back completely, which made the arrow slip and it made a pathetic tumble half way through the shooting range.
“Ah that was awful…”, you whispered as you stared at the arrow on the floor.
“It was a good first try.”, she said coming over to hand you another arrow,
“Here, let me help.”
She stepped behind you to adjust your arms, her voice gentle as she explained the stance and how much force you should use to draw the bow.
After a few more failed attempts you finally start to get the hang of it,
focusing more than before you let this arrow fly, hitting a straight bullseye.
With disbelief you turned to Meteor who was in the process of pouncing on you,
“Yes!!! You did it!”, she swung her arms around you making you drop the bow in the process and lifted you off your feet. Her sweet laughter filled your ears, making you giddy with joy. 
Her arms suddenly adjusted and her lips met yours, you could feel her smiling into the kiss. 
It was a sweet, exhilarating feeling, her pride seemingly radiating off her.
The moment was interrupted by the other operators whistling and cheering at you two, suddenly feeling embarrassed you tried to put some space between you and Meteor. Which was met by her pulling you even closer with one arm, the other finding your cheek to cup it as she peppered feather light kisses onto your face.
“You did so well, I’m so proud.”
I'm finally back writing on my main writing blog, who would have thought... Thank you for the request Anon!
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myers-meadow · 2 years
Text
Ambrose Summer Vacation ch. 3
Title: The Ambrose Summer Vacation, chapter 3: Strange Harvest.
Chapter 1: 45 Miles To Go. Chapter 2: Malda.
Summary: On vacation in southern Louisiana, a friend is seduced by a handsome southern man to visit his museum in a small town called Ambrose. The vacation lasts longer than intended. During her stay, Katyusha tries her best to get a hold of the Sinclair brothers, to understand what is going on, and perhaps to claw her way to freedom. Their receptiveness to her soon causes a complicated predicament and her struggles grow as she gets in over her head.
Contents: Vincent x OC and Bo x OC. OC is female, named, but has otherwise little specified backstory. Slower burn than my usual stuff, and it is dark. It is a poly fic, but no threesomes and the brothers aren't involved with each other.
Warnings: Kidnapping, canon-typical violence. Dub-con touching, nudity. 18 + chapter. Sexually explicit scenes. Stockholm syndrome?
Wordcount: 3899
Enjoy! I had great time writing this, thing are happening after the set up of previous chapters, and I'm so glad I can share this with you after days of working on this part <3. It's also a bit longer than previous chapters.
Ao3 link. Link to masterlist.
Divider by @/firefly-graphics.
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The tourists didn’t show up that day, and it felt like a waste to have been so on edge the whole time. The ‘watching Katya’ shift changed, and Vincent took me upstairs to the bedrooms. I’d been there often enough before, to clean. Bo had the big bedroom, the one I suspected used to be their parent’s. They must’ve shared a room, the one that’s now Vincent’s, but there was barely anything there to remind of Bo’s presence. I liked the small bathroom best, though. Despite the guestroom that always sat untouched, neat, with the quilt thrown over the foot end of the bed and the curtains closed, they never let me sleep there. Perhaps because Vincent made so little use of the upstairs, preferring to work, sleep and eat in the basement whenever possible.
That evening, he went straight to his room, making sure I followed. Leaving me to stand awkwardly by the door, he fiddled with the record player, until something jazzy, with lazy vocals, something rhythmic and seductive, filled the room. I dared a few steps inside. He walked around me, movements swift, overly familiar with the space, and opened the adjoined bathroom, the sage green one. Gestured me inside, handed me a razor and pulled at the waistband of my skirt. I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Pulling my hand in between us, flattening it, and using the end of the razor to write something letter by letter.
‘Shave. Down there.’
“You want me to- what?”
He sighed and retrieved a sketchbook from his nightstand, with a pencil. “I need a nude model. So I’d like you to shave there.”
I blinked. “I’ve never shaved before.”
We stared at each other for a beat. He handed me a tub of shaving cream. It never occurred to me that he’d shave, or perhaps have a beard underneath the mask. “Go against the grain. Take your time.” And with that, he shut the bathroom door.
.
After shaving, showering, and drying myself off with a threadbare towel, I stood still, staring at the door. Since he had specified to shave down there, I left my legs and armpits hairy as they were. What would be worse; coming out nude, or undressing in front of him? The power he had over me made my head swirl.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I ignored his eye on me and headed to sit on the bed, as he usually drew me sitting down. He sat in the only chair in the room, by the room covered with old toy cars on the window sill. He flipped the page he was working on over, starting a new one as soon as he saw me. Perhaps he did art at university. Perhaps he was very used to seeing nude women. He stood up as I tried to sit in a somewhat modest position, and leaned his knee on the bed. He loomed over me, even more frightening than before, and I willed my hands to stay on the duvet. To not react with fear or defensiveness. Gentler than before though, his hand pushed my shoulder until I leaned back, and he helped my legs up on the bed until I laid down. A shudder travelled through me from the warmth of his hands. It was still September, but the evenings cooled down considerably. He noticed, his gaze quickly shooting up to mine, before resuming his movements to position me. His fingers slid along the skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Shoulder to elbow, to wrist, then onto hip, over the roundness of me there, his breath hitched, and it was then that the movements could not be considered professional by any stretch of the imagination. He kneaded hip and thigh, digging in his fingers, testing softness, firmness, where the bones were hidden. The mask showed nothing of his expression, but his breath was heavy as it echoed against the wax.
In a desperate attempt to distract him, to place something in between us, to do anything at all, I leaned up and reached for the sketchbook. At the same time as I brough our faces closer by reaching for it, it occurred to me, clear as day, sharp like being pricked by a needle. Those wandering hands, that heavy breathing; I could use it. I could survive this place. At least until others come, until I steal the keys to Bo’s truck – until something goes well for me. The thought was quickly squashed as Vincent gripped my wrist with a large hand, stopping me from flipping it over to the side he was drawing on, and it was just as clear that if he wanted anything, he would have it.
“Can I see your drawings? You’ve drawn me almost daily, but I’ve never seen any of those,” my voice was thin, the lisp worsening as my mouth felt foreign and dry so close to him. Close enough to smell the wax, his heat, to see the coarse white dog hairs on his t-shirt. “Please?”
He searched my face, eventually sat back, tucking his legs underneath him. He grabbed one of my legs to throw over his lap, then picked up the paper with a last look at me, and flipped through it until he decided on a good one. Holding it out for me to take and I did.
It was me, yes. One of the earlier days, I wore the same clothes as I came there with, my hair in a single, messy braid – must’ve been the first week. Why did that stick out? Vincent’s style was naturalistic, realistic, but seemingly more lifelike than I was in all my flesh and blood. My expression was serene, looking away from the spectator, eyes averted, face relaxed, almost smiling.
“Do I really look like this?” I mumbled. It wasn’t a judgement, of either his art or of me, just the realisation that he has had opinions on my body since the moment he set eyes on me. “Sorry. You’re really good. Do you have a formal education in art?”
He shook his head, watching my reactions. He flipped to another page, one by the window in the kitchen,  the light illuminating my figure like a baroque painting. His warm hand returned to rest atop my knee after each time he flipped a page. Another, one where I had no idea he drew me; more of a sketch, also in the kitchen, reaching up to take something from a cabinet. A homely scene. Another in the basement, on his table, this time with an incredibly detailed background, including Jonesy at the foot of the workbench.
Couldn’t help a fond smile at her head laying on her paws, “you’ve drawn Jonesy too.”
On I looked, and as he flipped through the pages, more confident as I commented idly as he did so. Me, me, me. Page after page. Some had details. Pages of just my hand with my rings, of just eyes, eyebrows, different positions sketched out quickly and messily. The ones where you could barely tell it was me were my favourite.
“The way you draw me, the shadows… It reminds me of Rubens, or was it Caravaggio? I believe it’s called chiaroscuro, the contrast.”
His eye shot up to mine, fingers ghosting over the page. He nodded slowly. A new page, he pressed hard on the pencil as he wrote something down. “How do you know?”
“I took a lot of art history courses back home,” I said, feeling the memories of my previous life choking me. Yet it felt like I could speak more freely now that he’d shown an interest in hearing what I have to say. “It feels strange to see myself drawn… Like I can view myself from your eyes. See what you see when you look at me, even if you try to be objective.”
He flipped to another page, an intricate one, a portrait. His hand didn’t return to the warmed up spot on my knee, instead he traced the features of my face on the paper. Eyebrow to nose to lips. With a certain hesitation he brought his other hand up to my face, and touched me, featherlight, following the path his other hand invented.
Even without words, that spoke of something, a feeling, so instinctual that it preceded language entirely. I averted my gaze. He traced the outline of my lips, letting his thumb linger after his pointer finger had already left to feel my jaw. A sigh escaped me, he shuddered, pressing his eye closed briefly, the blue disappearing between dark lashes, and pulled away suddenly – leaving me cold on top of the duvet. Grabbing the sketchbook and pencil, he briskly walked out the door, letting it clatter noisily against the frame. I slept uneasy, not daring to leave or wander about. Awoke with wrists tied to the bedframe without any sign of either of the brothers.
.
Bo was right about the visitors that were coming. They came just after lunch the next day, during which I was barely able to eat, stomach filled with dread instead.
First, they lingered outside, exploring the town, then the gas station. When we heard them come nearer, Bo looked up from the hood of the car and smiled at me, his crow’s feet made it feel genuinely reassuring. Just follow along. Breathe deep.
“Hey there, we’re looking for a mechanic? Could you help us?” The man that stepped forward was young, in his early thirties at most, dark hair, wore pilot sunglasses. The sleeves of his light blue button up were rolled over his elbows, showing hairy underarms.
“Ya found one,” said Bo, straightening up and turning to him. The look he sent me was intoxicating. “What do you need?”
The man came closer, taking off his sunglasses and clipping them to his shirt pocket. “Hi, yeah, our car broke down, just down the dirt road from the 35.”
“Do y’know what’s wrong with it?” asked Bo, he grabbed a rag and wiped his hands clean, before tossing it.
“No, not very car savvy,” said the man. “It just won’t start. We weren’t having any trouble before, and we always check up with the garage before going on long trips.”
“Guess we’ll have to check it out then,” said Bo, looking back at me with a grin. “Darlin’, will ya mind the shop while I’m gone?”
With the most casual nod, he threw me the keys. The trust, the familiarity, how was he so good at this? It made me lightheaded. The other people had gathered and we went outside. They were just a young woman, and another young man.
“Yeah, he can help us,” said the man in the button up to the rest.
“Name’s Bo, by the way.” Bo leaned on the door to the garage and motioned to me. “And that’s Katyusha, my assistant at the shop.”
The visitors looked to me and made their own introductions. There was the first man, Thomas, the woman’s name was Sylvie, the other man, blond, was Baxter.
“So, you’ll take me to your car, then?” Bo asked Thomas. “See what can be done to get you on your way.”
Thomas nodded. Sylvie grabbed his arm. “Don’t you want me to come along, baby?”
“No need for that, honey,” was all he said. Bo sent me a look. 
I spoke, clearing my throat. “I can take you both up to the house for something cold to drink? It’s hot out here.” To punctuate my point I wiped the sweat from my brow.
Baxter was quick to agree. “Yeah, sounds good. It’s not far I hope?”
“Not at all.”
And so we split up.
.
Once at the house, I let the two roam, to get ice from the fridge and glasses from the cupboard.
“The town seems nice,” said Baxter, lingering in the kitchen. “Quiet, though.”
“Yeah,” I answered with my back to him, “most folk are out of town at this time of year. But we like it just fine.” I handed him the cold glass of lemon water with a smile. Condensation made the glass slippery, or was that the sweat of my palms.
We moved to the living room, where Sylvie snooped around. She was looking at the various stuff stacked on the drawers and the coffee table. At least it was all clean and neat. I set the glass down for her too, sank into a wooden chair, leaving them to sit on the couch.
“So, you and the mechanic guy, you two together?” asked Baxter. He seemed younger than Thomas. Sweet face, freckles, blond curls.
“No, not at all. I just help out at the shop sometimes, so he can do his thing. But it’s not like we get many customers out here.” The glass was chilly in my hand. I should do something, anything for this moment to stop and for my nerves to calm down. Unfortunately t was much easier to keep my voice steady, than it was when dealing directly with the twins. “Where were you three headed?”
“Just on a journey to see as much as possible. We have all taken as much time off as we could get.”
“No destination?”
“We’re going east, to the coast. We’re visiting some landmarks. Planning on going via Baton Rouge too.”
Sylvie nods. “We heard about a festival up there? Perhaps we’ll check it out. Is there a bathroom here? Excuse me.”
I pointed her the way and she disappeared. Baxter shifted closer on the couch, our legs were almost touching from how wide he spread himself out.
“What’s that on your wrists? Are those scars?” he asked, even daring to point. Reflexively, I rubbed the marks.
“They’re old,” I said, but immediately knew my tone was off. “The heat makes them… seem worse again.”
He gave me a look that very much felt like balancing on the edge of a cliff, but whatever he said was interrupted by a scream. He shot up, and I pressed my eyes closed for a second before getting up too.
“Was that-?” he asked.
I shrugged, holding a wrist tightly, to soothe the memory of the ropes. He grabbed my arm and pulled me along the hallway to where he saw Sylvie go. He tried a door, then looked back at me. At that look, his posture fell.
“What is going on?” he asked, disbelief and fear settling over his features. I realised then, how my face was scrunched up in fear. He grabbed my hand and looked closer at the marks, and I could not help myself. Tears filled my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” was all I was able to say, voice barely a whisper. Baxtor released his grip on my hands, instead pushing me to the wall by my shoulders, gritting his teeth.
“What kind of trap is this?” he hissed. I only shook my head, shocked by the quick change in his demeanour. Despite knowing better, despite it being a bad idea, the hope that these tourists could be my rescue dissipated like a drop of water on a hot pan. The door behind him opened soundlessly, but when he noticed my stare, it was too late. A blade pierced his chest, stopping short of mine by just five centimetres. I wiped my tears, clearing my vision and found myself face to face with Vincent’s chest. He hummed softly and rubbed my arms. The rough texture of his jumper against my cheek was comforting. Safe. Shock overwhelmed me and there was little to do but cling on to what I knew – who I knew.
.
Waking up was painful. The room was a proper bedroom, Vincent’s. There was a glass of water on the nightstand, a note underneath. The sheets smelled like him, like wax and the particular way Vincent smelled like a man. Vaguely of laundry detergent. The curtains were drawn, but the bits of light that shone in through the cracks were enough to make my head pound. Quickly scribbled letters read: ‘there’s breakfast in the fridge, I’m in the basement. Avoid Bo.’
These words were casual, but at this time, it was best to take them as instruction. Breakfast was a banana, and even that felt like a terrible decision, and down the stairs I went. Bo was nowhere in sight, thankfully.
Vincent was working on a sculpture. He heard me approach and looked up. Hands darting to pen and paper. His handwriting was as familiar as the sound of my own voice.
“How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “Headache, but I’m fine. Didn’t see Bo. How… how did everything go?”
With a bounce in his step, he moved over to a cabinet with medical supplies, took out two bottles. He handed them to me, and I examined the labels. Painkillers.
“Thank you,” I said, took one out of each, put the bottles back. “Is there some water?”
He was writing again. “Bo kept the girl, but she stabbed him. He’s in a bad mood. Other than that, all is well.”
At times like these, his masked face was frightening. No emotion. The warmth of our closeness on my skin as he guided me next to him at the workbench. It was Baxter.
Vincent continued writing. “He was going to hurt you.”
“I tricked him. Them. Bo- he took me to the shop to help.” The desperation in my voice made me sick. Did Vincent know of Bo’s plan to use me to draw victims like a spider in a web?
His hair tickled my shoulder, he pulled me closer, away from the sedated man. His hand on my chin to make me look at him, but I closed my eyes instead. Another tug. Fingers moved to my throat, grazing the pulse points. I shivered, then opened my eyes.
His blue one looking directly at me. He was braver than the day before. The kill, or the sculpting, seemed to invigorate him. We were closer than I thought, I was almost pressed against his woollen jumper.
“You did well,” he wrote on the little scrap of paper from his pocket. The way his fingers trailed over my cheek, lips, neck, could almost be considered affectionate. He drew letters on my underarm, “You were so good, for me.”
And I saw it without even seeing his face, his eye was enough. Pupil blown wide with desire. And I felt it too, as something that crawled under the skin where he touched me. Perhaps it was there the day before, as it seemed to have warmed him considerably too. His gaze so lazily taking me in, lingering on my lips just too long. The little movement of his head, forward, closer, his hand curling around my neck. I whimpered. That one little movement, instinctual, of baring my neck, of angling my head, that little glance at the wax lips – it was all he needed. Slammed me into a cabinet nearer to the bed, hips grinding. His apron was gone in an instant. Scrambling behind me to get something from the cabinet. A syringe. He was quick to grab my arm to hold me still. Fuck-
“No, please, Vincent, you don’t need to do that. I’ve been so good, I’ll be good for you…” Wrong words. The neediness in my voice sickened me. “I know you want to touch me, I want to touch you too. To feel your hands, your skin… Please, Vincent.”
The syringe clattered to the floor. Immediately his hands were on me, he was panting. Fingers dug harshly in the soft skin of my hips, he kneaded his way up to my breasts. I pressed myself to his chest, experimentally trailed my fingers under his jumper. His skin was feverishly hot. He pulled a leg to his waist, leaning me back against the cabinet. Breaths against my ear. His groin pressed against my heat. He was hard as he moved against me. I hiked up my skirt, hissed at the harshness of his zipper. The hand I had around his neck for support, he pushed down, fingers digging so hard they’d leave bruises. Papers scattered around as he pushed me on the surface, legs spread around his hips.
He whimpered when my hand found the button on his jeans. This is what he wanted, right? This is what he kept me for. The pounding behind my eyes made it hard to think. I wrapped my fingers around his cock firmly. He was painfully hard, velvet length leaking precum. His broad hand angled my head up to his, looking him in the eye. The pressure on my throat increased as he gripped it tighter. Eyebrows scrunched together from desperation and guilt.
His hips and my hand created a rhythm. I licked my dry lips, not daring to look away from him. The fierceness in his eye scared me more than the tightening hand around my throat. Hard to tell which moans and pants came from which throat. His eye fell shut and his hips stuttered, before a mess of cum spurted over my bare leg. It dripped lazily on the floor and the wax nose of Vincent’s mask bumped my cheek. His hand on my neck stayed, although its grip loosened with each of his shuddering breaths. I stroked him through the aftershocks until he softened. He released my neck, took hold of my cum-slick hand and intertwined our fingers.
“Did that feel good? I just want you to feel good,” I breathed and another low grumble escaped from under the mask. Jolts of something new sparked through me. I pleased him. He pet my hair, made soft sounds and rubbed his mask against my cheek. I did well. That thought, both exhilarating and sickening, carried me into the night.
.
The new wax statue found a place in one of the houses. The other victim was not deemed worthy, for whatever reason. They sent me to clean the old lady’s house, check the mechanism, dust the knickknacks on the cabinets and coffee table. Bo’s fury was resolved when his stab wound healed. It was shallower than he made it out to be.
A threshold had been crossed when it came to my involvement. They let me out more easily, some nights Vincent took me up to his room. He found it difficult to keep his hands off me, even at the most domestic of times; greeting me with a squeeze of the shoulder or a hand on my back. Bo got more physical too, but he preferred to shove me out of his way, to back me into cabinets, to grab me and to yell when he had his moods. Secretly, I thought he did so to scare me on purpose. To not forget my place, and perhaps to indirectly protect Vincent. To make sure I wasn’t a disappointment.
The nights when I brought Vincent to orgasm with just my hands and his shallow breaths and whines still resounded in my ears, it felt as though my power in the dynamic grew. The desperation of him gave me a high unlike anything else, but I still had to be careful, to show myself in ways they liked me to appear. Daydreams of getting out of Ambrose seemed far away, but Vincent’s hunger for affection was a light that illuminated the path to escape. 
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mywifeleftme · 4 months
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262: The Breeders // Last Splash
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Last Splash The Breeders 1993, 4AD (Bandcamp)
The Breeders stalk onto “New Year,” the opening track from their sophomore record Last Splash, like alien Amazons from a molten asteroid crater. Under Kim Deal’s girlish croon, the guitars’ tone hisses and seethes with bad intentions for nearly half the track’s short running time before the band finally let it rip with a jackhammering riff that signals that the Breeders are here for their slice of the post-Nevermind cake.
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But, for all its supreme might, “New Year” is a fragmentary thing, cutting off abruptly just as you’re ready for a bridge or solo to take flight. In its place, you get a miniature suite of oddball noises that, despite the platinum-plated recording quality, could be the sound of Beck rooting around in his closet of early unused samples. Put your mind back to before you first heard “Cannonball” and remember what it was like trying to clock where the song was going in that first 90 seconds or so, the way that chlorine blue chorus finally hits out of nowhere. There is something stilted and patchwork about “Cannonball,” as though it were a work by assemblage like a Beastie Boys or Lucious Jackson song, even as it finds every pleasure center you ever wanted from an alternative rock song.
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Last Splash is constantly mutating, from the imperial shoegaze-psychedelia of “Invisible Man” to the bone-dry Pixies creep of “No Aloha” to the oceanic guitar spectacular “Roi.” As with all the popular heavy alternative bands of the era, this music lives and breathes on the variety of ways its composers are able to exploit the genre’s signature quiet/loud dynamics. But the Breeders are more fascinated with texture than most of their pure rock peers: everyone would’ve been happy with the bedroom blues vulnerability of “Do You Love Me Now?” with more basic production, but what we get instead is a stoner’s paradise of guitar tones you could snap off and chew on like a witch’s gingerbread lintel. I don’t know if Kim discovered weed around 1993 or if we’re just hearing for the first time what a genius could do with a bigger recording budget, but every moment of Last Splash simply pops out of the speakers in a way that its otherwise laudable predecessor Pod never does.
The album is I think purposely front-loaded with its most accessible tracks, and it’s hard to blame fair-weather alternative fans drawn in by “Cannonball” for getting lost in its murky mid-section, where instrumentals and thumbsucking weirdo business (“Mad Lucas”) begins to outnumber the songs with, like, hooks. But I find the pacing is what makes Last Splash so immersive as a trip. By the time you’re 25ish minutes in, you don’t need the hooks quite so much—you’re deep in the throbbing, gelatinous heart of the thing, just feeling it. That’s what makes “Drivin’ on 9” such a sweet comedown. Borrowed from wholesome Bostonian anti-folkers Ed’s Redeeming Qualities, Deal and the Breeders give it a completely straight reading, complete with fiddle and skipping mandolin. It’s so good that I’d love a band that sounded like this all the time, but coming after 40 minutes of ear-splitting crunch the juxtaposition absolutely melts me. How could you not fall in love with them after such an unexpected kiss on the cheek? (I don’t really need the “Roi” reprise tacked on at the end bringing me back to noiseville, but admittedly it has some swagger.)
262/365
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autumnslance · 2 years
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(Work in Progress Wednesday image header from @ao3commentoftheday)
Between other things I should be working on, I’ve been fiddling with an indulgent, rambling, mostly-fluffy piece on the day Aeryn, Zaine, and Emelia first returned to Thavnair, sort of an expansion of a previous prompt. 10 year old Zaine is our POV for these excerpts.
--
“I’m all right, sweeheart,” Mama said, heaving out a deep breath, still smiling. “I just…I missed this so. I’d forgotten how the wet sand always tickles between my toes.” She looked at Zaine, then past him, blinking. Smiling again, she put a finger to her lips and gestured for him to turn around.
Zaine did, sucking in a breath to stop himself from making a sound that would alert his sister. Aeryn was kneeling just at the edge of the dry sand, watching the waves roll in. When the water came close, she reached for it, letting it wash over her small hand. As it retreated, she dug a hole in the wet sand. The wave returned, dampening her knees and washing sand from her fingers. When the water flowed away once more, the place she had dug had been nearly smoothed out. She made an almost-noise of delighted discovery, repeating the process.
Mama’s hand rested on Zaine’s shoulder and squeezed. “A fresh start is just what we need,” Mama said quietly.
Zaine frowned. “But I don’t want to forget everything about home,” he said before he could stop himself, even if he sounded like a brat.
Mama leaned down and hugged him. “We can’t ever forget,” she said into his ear, voice wavering dangerously. He felt his tears prick his eyes, as they always did when Mama cried, and he didn’t want to make her do that again. Then she kept talking, voice steadying. “But we’re still here and have to keep going despite what happened.” She straightened again, her hands still on his shoulders, as she looked up. “Here, a dragon is a symbol of the divine, of safety and allegiance. These skies are safe, and there’s no war to steal pieces of us away. No goddess of this isle will demand you prove your bravery by slaughtering dragons. No draconic raids will appear suddenly to destroy our home. No Inquisitors to make wild accusations and threats. You’ll be safe here. And I hope, happy.”
“I’ll try, Mama,” he said. It must have been the right thing to say, as she squeezed his shoulders and smiled. She still had the prettiest smile, even if it was sadder than it used to be.
A squeal distracted them both; Aeryn had become too bold in her experiments, getting knocked on her rear by a wave. She lay on the sand, staring up at the sky in surprise, then giggled, water rushing up to her waist.
Zaine expected Mama to scold about what a muddy wet mess his sister was, but instead she laughed again, walking over to pick Aeryn up. “We’ll have to get you proper swimwear sooner than later,” Mama said, trying to dust some of the clinging sand off Aeryn’s kecks and tunic. “You’ve always been fond of water, and will be taking to the ocean like a fish, I imagine. …Where are your shoes?”
“Prolly took ‘em off cuz you took off yours,” Zaine said as Aeryn shrugged, unconcerned about her bare, sand-covered feet. He looked around but saw no signs of the battered pattens, though her socks were in her hand. He suspected she had let the shoes wash away as part of her testing of the waves; they had been clunky and in a color she didn’t like. Aeryn was picky about what she wore, which could be frustrating for both Zaine and their parents.
For Mama. Just Mama, now.
Zaine took a deep breath to fight the stabby pain in his chest when he remembered that.
Mama sighed, and might have started to scold then, but a call of her name caught all their attention.
(BONUS, when buying new island-appropriate clothes:)
The Au Ra women weren’t much taller than Zaine, their bodies covered in pale scales, horns on their heads instead of ears, and long reptilian tails. They looked like dragon people, like the whispered stories of heretics back home. Zaine tried very hard not to stare. Keeping Aeryn from touching every single piece of fabric she could reach helped.
She was being more troublesome today than she had been in weeks. On the one hand, that was good; she was more like herself again. On the other hand, Zaine was already feeling off-kilter in a new place, it was hot and sticky, and he was getting hungry, so tending to a curious five year old was annoying.
(And:)
“Here we are,” another Raen woman sang out, ushering Aeryn ahead of herself. “She was a tad stubborn until I showed her this blue top, and she does look darling, I must say.”
Of course she looked darling; his sister was always cute, even when she was being a brat. It was part of how she got away with so much.
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aenxiome · 2 years
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I rewrote chapter 7 plasma crystals
Now called plasma crystals and library cards
Using the ectoplasm under me, I glide towards the Farfrozen. The homes started to get bigger, and once I decided I had gotten close enough to the settlement, I let out a scream,
“ Frostbite!” I got closer and let out another, “Frostbite!”
It didn’t take long before hurried feet started crashing against the snow. Doors were flung open, tents were pulled apart, and hundreds of shouts calling “ Great One” were heard. Yetis rushed at me, but they stopped once they were at arm’s length of me. They paled at my condition and started whispering to one another about me. Some were beginning to rush at me when the order of “ let me through” sounded from behind them.
At the back of the crowd was Frostbite in all of his glory. As he got closer, he started giving orders to his people and rushed me to the medical center.
It didn’t take long for the healers to get to work and start running diagnostics. They start bandaging up my injuries while Frostbite takes a seat across the room. “ Great One, what happened? Who did this to you?”
I give him a sheepish smile as I relay the events of the last couple of days.
“ This is troubling,” he says with a frown, “ pain from your core isn’t normal.” He studies me for a second before leaving the room and coming back with a weird device that looks like a turkey baster. “ Are you done with the bandages?” he asks the others, and once he gets confirmation, they are sent out of the room. “This,” he explains, “ is a core reader.”
I look at it, judging. “ What does it do?”
“ When you go intangible, im going to stick the end of it into your core,” at my startled look, he starts to elaborate, “it’s only got to stay in for a few seconds and should be painless the wost you are going to feel is a slight tickle” He looks for permission to continue which I give, if not a little hesitantly, and comes to stand directly in front of me. “ Okay, I need you to go intangible now. I'll let you know when you can let go of it.”
Doing as I’m told, I let myself go and immediately feel my core twist in discomfort, but before I could say anything, Frostbite inserts the reader into my chest. I didn't feel it at first, but the longer it stayed, the worse I started to feel. My core wasn’t happy with the intrusion and started pushing against the invader. I held on for as long as I could, but with the extraction of the reader came a billowing of Ice.
All along, the instrument was coding of frost, and at the very tip, a frozen ice crystal in the shape of a star. The star was giving off gas, kind of like the way dry ice does. Frostbite stares at the instrument in puzzlement before shrugging and going over to one of the many machines throughout the room. Once he inserts it into the container, he starts up the conversation again, “ Well, that was unexpected.” What exactly is that supposed to mean? “But,” he continued, “ not the worst thing I have ever seen.”
“ So what now,” I ask. He hums as he fiddles away with something and replies, “ now we wait; it shouldn’t take too long, an hour at the most, I would say. Come on now, Great One, let us relax while we wait. ”
I follow him through a series of hallways until we finally get to a small room with a kitchenette, cozy couches, and a roaring fireplace. “ Make yourself at home,” he instructs, “ ill make us some hot chocolate.” It doesn’t take long for him to come back with big mugs of chocolate goodness and a whole bag of marshmallows. We sit in silence, slurping away at our drinks when I break the silence. “ On my way here, I somehow got turned around and ended up on the other side of the island. I ran into someone I’d never seen before. He wasn’t a yeti. He called himself something else. I think they said something that started with a J, but-”
Frostbite cuts me off, “ Were they big?” he asks earnestly. Then, with a nod of my head, he continues, “ you said that you thought they said they were something that starts with a J. If someone were to say it do you think you could recognize it?”
“ Yes, why?”
“Does the word Jӧtunn sound familiar to you?”
“That’s the word they said,” I confirm to Frostbite, which sent him pailing. “ Are you okay?” I ask worriedly, “ you look like you've seen a ghost.”
The pun sent him over the edge as he planted his face into the palm of his hand. He rubs at his temples while speaking, “ where exactly did you see the Jӧtunn, Great One.”
“ I first ran into them near a cave on the other side of the island. They didn’t sound very modern like they were from the middle ages; they were hard to communicate with. I think they said their name was Birger.”
I think back on my experience with them and tentatively say, “ the whole time I was near Birger, they were trying to eat me.”
Frostbite looked pained as I said that, but before we could discuss much else, a yeti came in and handed Frostbite my lab results.
He mulls over the results before exclaiming, “ Just what I thought. That explains everything.”
“ What does it say,” I ask, peering at him.
“ It seems that you don’t have an ice core but a mixed one,” he says excitedly. “ What’s a mixed core? I thought you could only have one type?” He lets out a small laugh as he says, “ while a single core type is most common mixed cores are possible, though I’ve never seen a mixed type like this.”
“ What’s it mixed with?”
“ Ah, well, you see, Great One, your core is mixed with plasma,” he says proudly. “ Like ectoplasm? That kind of plasma? I thought all ghosts were capable of that?”
“ Not exactly. Your type of plasma would be akin to that of the element.”
“ You mean as in the fourth state of matter, Plasma with a capital P, the very thing that makes up the Aurora Borealis and the majority of the creations of the universe that Plasma!” I say in an excited tangent.
“ Yes, indeed, that plasma.”
I can’t believe it. Plasma, the same thing that makes up the stars, is part of my core! My thoughts jumble around excitedly until reality hits me, “ then how is this affecting the ice part of my core?” Do the two parts not mix? Could this be why my powers are going on the fritz?
“ Partially,” he agrees, “ the ice part of your core matured faster than the plasma part and took up space that would be taken up with plasma if matured simultaneously.”
“So basically, I just need to use up all of the ice overtaking the other half of my core, and I’ll be okay?”
“ It will take time, but things will go back to normal. Once the room for the plasma is there, you will need to learn to control it, but we of the Farfrozen can be of no help.”
“ Right, because you guys have pure ice cores,” I say in thought. “ This doesn't explain why my core was in pain, though?”
“ Allow me to explain,” he says, going into teacher mode. “ Unlike ice, Plasma is pure energy, and it comes in different forms, including that of electricity. Right now, what little Plasma has built up has most likely taken that form and is causing you a shock whenever you turn or use your powers.”
A feeling of shock rings through me at his words.
ELECTRICITY
My mind goes blank as thoughts race through my head.
Tripping in the portal,
Im trying not to fall over loose wires,
the wall is giving away,
no, it’s not a wall,
It's a button.
PAIN
It's going up through my fingers,
hair sticking up on end,
What was that sound,
Whats whirling,
It’s sparking
It’s,
“Great one!”
IT’S
“DANNY”
“ Huh”
All of a sudden, I’m back in the present. Im in the room with Frostbite. There is light coming from the fireplace. I'm sitting down, and I didn't fall.
Im okay
Im okay
Im okay
“Danny,” Frostbite says again, trying to grab my attention. I try to shake the fear from my thoughts as he’s trying to get my attention.
“ What happened,” I ask, kind of woozily.
“ I think that's something I should be asking you, Great One. You started hyperventilating while I was talking. I wasn’t aware that you could still do that in this form.”
“ I’m sorry,” I say breathlessly, rubbing at my hand, “ electricity and I don't really get along.” I take another minute or two to steady myself before asking, “ do you think there is a way to stop it from acting like electricity? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep transforming if it….”
Frostbite looks at me with pity, an understanding gleam in his eyes, “ I’m not sure, Great One, this is outside of my realm of expertise, but maybe some of your other allies will be of some service.”
Changing the topic, “ Do you have any idea why the ice has gotten stronger and what’s keeping it from melting?” I know it’s been pretty strong in the past, but never has my Ice been unmeltable.”
“ It’s happening because of your strength in power. Your core is evening out, going into homeostasis. The ice you have been using has been diluted as it was built up in the wrong areas. Now that it’s coming from the Ice part of your core, it will be stronger than before.”
I gave his answer some thought before an idea hit me, “ Will the two parts of my core be able to mix? Like earlier with the reader, it was covered in frost but smoking at the same time? Could that be the two elements trying to mix together?” He stops me before I can go on, “ That is possible, but probably not for a while. It will take time for the two parts to even out. I’m afraid that’s all I can help you with today.”
I was about to agree when I remembered, “ What about the Jӧtunn? What was it? Why did they want to eat me?”
Frostbite started looking his age when he sighed, “ the Jӧtunn are ancient cousins of us, Yeti. You know how Pandora exists here in the zone?” I nod and signal for him to go on, “ well, the greek pantheon wasn’t the only one to survive in some form. The Jӧtunn is known in Norse mythology as Frost Giants, a man-eating race.” He watches my face as he continues, “ not all of us were happy living that way and wanted peace with the others and gave up eating humans and turned to cattle instead. Over the millennia, our two groups changed into what they are today. I was unaware that there were any Jӧtunn on this island. So on the off chance that you see one again, don’t talk to it. Just fly away as fast as you can.”
“ Why they can’t all be like that? They could have changed their minds too.”
“ Ah, but Great One, it's better not to leave it up to chance; after all, a Jӧtunn delicacy is that of a child.”
I gulp and ask, “ but I’m not technically living. Would they still want to eat me?” Then, I laughed nervously, “ I probably wouldn’t taste very good.”
“ Your status as a half-ghost would just make you more appealing, I'm afraid.”
Well, there goes any hope about that being a no. “ Do the greeks have anything like the Jӧtunn?” I had to ask better to be safe than sorry.
“ hum, if I remember correctly, they have the cyclops, but I don’t think all of them were man-eaters, though. You would have to ask Pandora about that.”
“ What’s going to happen to the Jӧtunn that's on the Island? Are you going to try and get rid of them?”
“That’s something that you have nothing to worry about.”
Frostbite quickly sent me away from the Island, but I still had questions. As I flew towards the Fenton portal, I couldn’t help myself as I started to make a detour.
I found myself flying opposite the Fenton portal as my thoughts continued racing. I never really put in too much thought about what else may be existing in the Zone besides the ghosts. It would make sense that there are other beings since the Zone is known as the Infinite Realm, after all.
But that brings up the question of how many of those beings are still around or near the portal and have nefarious intentions? What would happen if they went into Amity? Would I be able to handle them? Or would they just become another victim to the GIW and the Fentons?
With so many uncertainties, it's unfortunate that there aren’t many places in the Zone where I can find information on the ancient beings. So that left me with only one real viable option. While yes, I could go to Pandora and get the Greek side of things or Clockwork for generalities and their extinction status, I need an in-depth explanation of who they are, and there is only one place I can get that.
Ghost Writer
While we may not have the best relationship, he will let me borrow a couple of books from his library. Or at least I hope that will be the case this time. But unfortunately, mattering the rarity of the book and the subject, he is liable to turn me away without a second thought.
So repeat my plea to the ancients as I pray that he won’t turn me away.
It doesn't take nearly as long to get to Writer as it did to the Farfrozen. The journey was fairly peaceful, with just a few run-ins with some animal ghosts and the occasional feisty blob. I will take them any day over Walker and his goons, let alone another frost giant.
It had only been an hour and a half when Writer's lair was in sight, floating in place. It was easy to spot as it glowed a purple hue, contrasting with the rest of the Zone. I went to his door while trying to psych myself up and, with fake confidence, knocked on the door.
It didn’t take long for him to come to the door and notice me. I swear I saw his eye twitch as he groaned before saying, “ What did you do?” while scrutinizing me.
I let out a weak chuckle, “ get into trouble,”
The next thing I know, a door slams into my face, “ hey! What was that for!?” Through the door, he screams, “ nope! Nope! I'm not getting into this again! The last time you needed help and came to me, Clockwork and Pandora came breaking down my door.” I could hear the shiver in his voice as he said weakly, “ I refuse. Not Again.” …They did what now, “ When you say they were breaking down your door, what way do you mean?”
“ as in I had to reform the door to my lair,” and ouch, the next time I see them, we will be talking about that. “ It's not like last time. You won’t even have to leave your lair. All I'm asking is to borrow a couple of books.” I wait for a moment, and as expected, soon after, Writer peers at me with the door cracked and asks hesitantly, “ Do you swear on your core that all you need is some books?” Rolling my eyes, I confirm, “ I swear on my core.” Now fully satisfied, he opens the door fully and leans on the frame, “ so books? You remember the rules, right?”
I shake my head in acknowledgment as I repeat, “: all books must be signed out properly, can have no additional damage, must be returned within two weeks if needed for longer an extension can be given if asked if all of these rules aren’t met, then you can no longer borrow from the library.” Looking satisfied, he motions me in, and I immediately go searching in the stacks.
In all honesty, I'm not too sure what to look for. With so many options, it’s really easy to become lost or overwhelmed. Why can’t everyone just be whelmed?
In the end, I settled on a few different books: Beings of the Infinite Realms, Fact or Mythos: Realms edition, and It was a ghost? Or was it?
Satisfied, I checked them out and went through his thorough pre-checkout book inspection. Honestly, why does it take so long for him to check them? They should be in the same condition as the last time he expected them, so what does he expect to find? Thankfully there wasn’t anything wrong with them, n0t that I expected there to be, and Writer leisurely escorted me out of his lair.
“ Remember,” he calls out before I leave the area around his lair, “ two weeks. Nothing more.” Nodding with a smile, I added, “ and they will be in a similar condition to now.” Or at least I hope so; you never know with the Fenton household.
Thankfully it was smooth flying back to the portal, but now the real trouble is ahead of me. Sneaking back into the world of the living without alerting anyone. I carefully pry open the one side of the protective doors and take a peek inside. Taking a glance around the room, I can see that neither of the Fenton adults is there, but that doesn’t mean they won’t be back soon. Being a little less careful of my actions, I make sure to slide on into the Lab. Moving quickly, I set the books down on a chair and prepared myself for the transformation to go through me. I can feel my core closing back on me as I turn human. It wasn’t nearly as painful as going ghost, but the pain is still nothing to sneeze at. It leaves my chest feeling as if it's weighed down by a cold compress while being shocked by an old box TV. Still in a rush, I hobble to the computer and access the security footage.
Which isn’t even password-protected, and pause the cameras. It takes a couple of minutes to search through the abundance of files, but in the end, the footage of me coming and going was deleted. Once that was done, I stalled the camera recording, grabbed my books, put on a thirty-second recording delay, and booked it out of the lab.
Which honestly wasn’t my brightest idea.
As soon as I entered the kitchen, Jack and Maddie walked through the front door.
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