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bill-skarsgalactic · 9 months

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A/N: So, it's been a while since I've written anything, but I've had this concept rattling around in my brain for a few years and figured there's no time like the present to jump back into writing and posting regularly. If you've been tagged in this it's because a couple of you expressed interest in a previous post of mine - you're not obligated to read it (obviously) but if you do, your feedback would be appreciated. As I said before, it's been a while since I've written anything, so keep in mind I'm a little rusty. Apologies if the first part is a bit bland, I'm mainly just setting up the world and the characters.

P.S: If you interacted with my last post but weren't tagged, its simply because Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you :(

Description: Searching for a fresh start in the small beach town of Hemlock Cove, a young nurse takes a job caring for the recently paralyzed and exceptionally bitter Roman Godfrey.

(This takes place after the events of Hemlock Grove season 3, except Roman did not die and was instead paralyzed after his altercation with Peter. I'm not going to touch on much of the Hemlock Grove storyline and will instead be focusing on making this a standalone story)

Pairing: Roman Godfrey x OFC

Warnings: None for this part, but will update as the story progresses.

P A R T I

Hemlock Cove was meant to be a fresh start, a new life in a quaint sea-side town seemed like the perfect remedy to an aching head and a bitter heart.

I naively hoped the saline sea air would cleanse my hidden wounds, disinfect them until the scars healed pink and became nothing more than memories wrapped in scar tissue.

However, as I stood at the edge of the beach watching the black waves roll violently beneath the murky clouds, pregnant with the promise of rain, nothing about the briny ocean breeze felt healing. The air felt thick, weighed down and tasted acrid on my tongue as I inhaled deeply. I swallowed against the offending taste and cleared my throat, willing away the nausea that had accompanied it, before turning my back on the mercurial sea.

Weeks prior when I had conjured up images of what I imagined my new home to look like, I'd expected something vastly different to the gloomy wasteland that greeted me now. A quick Google search had described Hemlock Cove as a small, sea-side town, its cobbled main road dotted with colorful ice cream shops, humble beachwear boutiques and charming vintage stores, however, as I quietly surveyed my surroundings, it was not quite the fairytale beach town I had been promised. As it stood, Hemlock Cove was merely a carcass of what it must have once been, a ghost town filtered in gray-scale with an underlying tone of despair on its breath. If the vibrant ice cream shops and vintage stores filled to the brim with the nick-knacks of yesteryear had ever existed, they were replaced now with drab, sun-faded replicas of their former selves, their contents barely visible behind foggy, glass storefronts. Looking at it now, it was a wonder how the town managed to stay afloat.

A low rumble of distant thunder suddenly pulled me from my thoughts, and I cast a wary look over my shoulder at the looming, gray clouds on the horizon.

Time to go. A storm was approaching and I had no intention of being caught in it.

With my mood as damp as the impending weather, I adjusted the strap of my duffel bag on my shoulder and began the trek up the cobbled street towards number eighty-one Foxglove Lane.

As I trudged up the hill towards my destination, the town of Hemlock Cove appeared to be seeking my forgiveness. As though ashamed of its first impression, the formerly dreary facade of the town below began to slowly give way to lush greenery and between the beach cottages and holiday homes, tufts of brightly colored wildflowers sprung up, their stems waving gently in the breeze. The distant crash of the ocean was muffled now, obscured by evergreens and the ocean itself was now only visible in gaps between the branches and leaves that lined the road. Further up the hill, the more modest cottages became few and far between, suddenly replaced by more modern, stately homes that looked like they'd be better suited to the upper suburb of neighboring Hemlock Grove, here they just looked out of place.

Stopping to stare at one particular monstrosity, my brow creased as I took in the frankly odd design choices. While most of the houses in Hemlock Cove opted for more classic earth-tones and rustic stone walls, this one was painted a deep shade of charcoal. Everything about it was a grotesque display of modern hubris, all harsh lines and sharp angles, not even the kiss of natural, black walnut finishes were enough to save the home from looking alien amongst its counterparts. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, chuckling at the thought of the field day a psychologist might have with the eyesore before me, but my chuckle was cut short as my eyes landed on the metallic, black numbers fixed to the wall beside the front door: eighty-one. Eighty-one Foxglove Lane to be exact, my new home for the foreseeable future.

When I'd first scoped out nursing jobs in Hemlock Cove, the owner of eighty-one Foxglove Lane was the only one that came up, and while details of his condition were vague at best, the job listing described the client as a 27-year-old male, who had been paralyzed six months prior. The position itself required someone with nursing experience, who could stay on the property and see to the client's needs, as well as handle day-to-day chores - a relatively simple task considering food and accommodation came tacked onto a relatively decent salary. However, other than what had been detailed in the job listing, I knew little to nothing about my client... other than his inclination to have his home scream of its own spectacular opulence.

As if only to impress on me the wealth of my new employer, a large, black Mercedes Benz minivan say at the end of the stone driveway, which I skirted around gingerly, careful not to mar the pristine paint job as I made my way towards the path leading to the front door.

Swallowing a new set of nerves that had made their home in my throat, I gripped the strap of my duffel with one hand and rapped succinctly on the door with my other hand, hoping my knock would sound more confident than I felt.

Silence followed for what felt like an eternity, there was no jingle of keys in the lock of shuffling from beyond the threshold, just the crash of waves beyond the tree line and the occasional chirp of a sandpiper. Just as I was considering knocking again, a voice from inside stopped me before I could even raise my hand.

"Come around the side. Sliding door's unlocked."

The voice was that of a young man, I assumed my client, but it was neither friendly nor welcoming, in fact "irritated" was the first word that sprung to mind, and the misanthropic timbre of his voice turned my stomach to knots in its wake.

Unsure of the appropriate response, I settled for a shaky "Uh, th-thank you!", as my eyes wandered up the side of the house, my irises mapping a mental path to where I assumed the sliding door might be. After only a short amount of bush-whacking my calculations turned out to be correct, as I emerged from the foliage and found myself at the foot of a small set of steps leading to a wooden deck that overlooked the beach.

The view from the deck was magnificent and the house stood no further than 50 feet from the beach itself. Standing on that deck overlooking the vast expanse of ocean, the water churning beneath the ever darkening sky, it was hard not to feel like Poseidon himself at the helm of his war ship.

I could have stood on that deck for hours watching the waves crash and churn, but I was hesitant to annoy my client any more than he already seemed to be, so I turned and made my way over to the sliding door, easing it open gently as I reached it.

The curtains were drawn across four of the six glass doors, leaving only a small gap for me to enter through, and as I did, I stepped through into what appeared to be an open-plan living room.

Although I could not fathom why anyone would be inclined to rob themselves of the spectacular view just beyond the glass doors, I couldn't deny the living room was cozy. A small banker's lamp in the corner of the room enveloped the stony, suede couches and raw wood furnishings in a warm, orange glow, giving the room a homely feel. Most modern homes felt cold and unlived-in, but not this one. After a five-hour-long bus journey and an uphill climb, my aching body longed to curl up amongst the scatter cushions and thick, woolen throws that adorned the couch, and fall into a sleep as deep as the murky waters of Hemlock Cove.

A soft, electrical whirring suddenly disturbed the silence of the living room, and I looked up just in time to see a figure appear in the doorway to my right.

Despite the half-light cast from the lamp in the living room, the man in the doorway was somewhat visible to me. In fact, the shadows cast by the small banker's lamp only aided in highlighting his perfectly straight nose and high cheekbones. His thick, brown hair had been pushed back from his brow in a way that looked effortless, as though he'd haphazardly run his hands through it, only for it to settle perfectly. I'd have dared to call him handsome were it not for the look of absolute disdain on his face as he regarded me.

I shuffled uncomfortably before speaking.

"Uh- hi, I'm Faryn Freeman, we-"

"I know who you are," he cut in harshly.

His wheelchair whirred to life again and he backed out of the doorway, leaving me alone in the living room once more.

I guess he wanted me to follow him, so I did just that. Weaving between the couch and the coffee table, I cut across the lounge and towards the room he had disappeared into.

When I stepped inside, I realized we were in what appeared to be his study, and my client was now sitting behind a large, ornate desk, pouring over a pile of official looking papers, a thick silver pen clutched between his slender fingers.

I lingered awkwardly in the threshold, the strap of my duffel bag growing teeth and biting into my shoulder, as I waited for him to acknowledge me. When he finally did, he didn't bother to look up, his long dark lashes fluttered only slightly as he jerked his pen towards a manila folder perched on the corner of his desk.

"Everything you need to know is in the file, your room is upstairs to the left," he remarked clinically, as he scribbled something indiscernable in the margins of the document in front of him.

I charged forward to retrieve the folder, stumbling slightly as my foot caught the upturned corner of the Persian rug. I cursed myself internally, embarrassed by my behavior. I was no longer the shrinking violet I had been growing up, and even in college, I was a professional, a nurse, over-qualified for the job I'd just undertaken, with years of experience working with men who thought they new more than I did, so why in God's name was I allowing this man and his bad attitude to throw me like this?

The feminist in me begged to put him in his place, but more than that I wanted to be done with this awkward interaction and retreat to my quarters where I could unpack and decompress. A lot had happened in a short space of time and I needed a moment to process it all, so if my new boss had no intention of getting acquainted, then I was more than happy to take the high road and seize a few moments of alone time.

"Well, thanks for this," I smiled politely, pressing the manila folder to my chest, "I'll make sure to familiarize myself with all of this," I assured him, giving the folder an emphatic tap with my index finger.

Again, he didn't look up, it was as if I hadn't spoken, and for a moment, I wondered if he had even heard me. Pursing my lips, I began to slowly back out of the room.

"Okay... well, I'll just head upstairs then," I explained, a little louder this time in case he was hard of hearing, "If you need anything-"

"I'll call," he interrupted, punctuating his statement with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Resisting the urge to bolt from the room, away from my new housemate and the dour energy that hung over him like a storm cloud, I turned fully and exited the study at a leisurely pace until I was out of his line of sight.

The stairs were directly to the right of the study and I took them two at a time, my duffel swinging precariously behind me until I reached the landing.

Unlike the lower level of the house the second floor was lighter, the walls were painted a soft, dove gray and the floor was covered in plush, cream carpeting. Despite the gloomy weather brewing outside, a large skylight above my head illuminated the landing giving it an airy feel that wasn't present downstairs.

I drew what felt like the first real breath of air I'd taken in hours and my lungs filled with the scent of wood polish and carpet shampoo.

At the top of the landing to my right was a dark, wooden door and directly across from where I stood was a small, guest bathroom and from there the hallway snaked to the left. Surely my bedroom was down there.

As I walked, I noticed there were no photos on the walls, no family portraits to liven up the stark landing, only grim, moody artwork. A large floor-to-ceiling oil painting of a snake arched in an almost perfect sphere, its mouth agape as though readying itself to consume its own tail, sat opposite the only other door on the landing: my bedroom.

I shivered involuntarily, my lip curled in distaste and turned away from the offending art piece, opening the door to my bedroom.

Upon stepping inside, I was pleased to see that my client's peculiar art choices did not extend to his guest bedroom. The walls were blank aside from a large mirror, and the room itself consisted of a vanity, a double bed and a sage green armchair in the corner of the room. Ultimately, the room seemed as though it had never been touched.

Grateful to be rid of my luggage, I unceremoniously dumped my duffel at the foot of the bed and flopped down atop the covers, the manila folder still clutched to my chest. Now that I had a few moments to myself, I figured it was about time I found out a little more about my client.

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#bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgård #roman godfrey fanfiction #roman godfrey fanfic #hemlock grove fanfiction #hemlock grove fanfic #roman godfrey

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sorroute · 6 months

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(Not so) Short personal introduction to the person behind sorroute !! ໒꒰ྀི >ヮ<꒱ྀི১

Name ; I go by a lot of different names, but currently I'm drawn to Verite && Chione<3 Feel free to call me by whichever you'd like !! (Or just my username!!)

Identity ; I go by a lot of pronouns too, but to make it simple I just go by he/him or they/them !! Please never refer to me with she/her prns <3333

I have diagnosed bpd, dpdr, autism, paranoia, & maladaptive daydreaming disorder :3 I'm also anemic, hypersexual due to trauma, and I struggle with extreme self-destructive behavior and intrusive thoughts. I usually write to get my mind off of said thoughts <3

I'm a trans man and am aroace, polyamorous && bi with a preference for men ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

I'm Russian, Italian, && German (but I was born and raised in Russia and have lived in Russia most of my life) I live in a primarily Russian speaking household, but I have also been learning English since I was 3 years old ^^

Likes ; Psychology, philosophy, literature, classic literature, history, bats, dolls, gothic lolita, human anatomy, religion, lace, pretty things, vkei, Mori Kei, cult party Kei, sweets, small animals, jirai kei// landmine, menhera, wintertime, snow, night time, the moon, writing, sanrio, kaomojis, obscure horror games, icebergs, video game // literature analysis, stuffed animals, iced strawberry lemonade, the rain, psychological horror, collecting journals, trinket collecting, manga, guro art

Dislikes ; warm weather, sour things, summertime, dolphins, loud things, metalwork,

Fav video games ; PARASiTE FLOWER, Omori, Yume Nikki, Needy Streamer Overload, Alter Ego, SHT.DN, Hollow Knight, Final Fantasy, Pokemon, Reverse 1999, Street Fighter, The Legend Of Zelda, Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Persona 5, Danganronpa, Little Nightmares

Fav shows // anime ; Bungou Stray Dogs, Vanitas no Carte, Toilet bound Hanako-Kun, Soul Eater, Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Paranoia Agent, Perfect Blue, Mononoke, Madoka Magica, Serial Experiments Lain, Ergo Proxy, Ghost Hound, Death Note, A Silent Voice, Artiswitch, Castlevania

Fav movies ; Coraline, Frankenweenie, Mean Girls, Kubo and the Two Strings, Nine (9), Corpse Bride, Alice in Wonderland

Fav manga // other media ; Alien Stage (VIVINOS), Pink Bitch Club (VIVINOS), Cherry Crush, Oyasumi PunPun, My Dear Living Dead, Heaven Official's Blessing, mxtx

Top kins ; Ame-chan (nso), KAngel (nso), Sunny (Omori), Amane (Tbhk), Aoi (Tbhk), Sigma (Bsd), Lucy (Bsd), Fischl (Genshin), Furina (Genshin), Cherie (cherry crush), Es (Alter Ego), Blade (Hsr), Rei (nge), Shinji (nge), Lain (sel), Crona (Soul Eater), Celeste (Danganronpa), Shoya (asv), Cult (mdld)

Fav characters (not all kins) ; Sigma (bsd), Fyodor (bsd), Kouyou (bsd), Cyno (Genshin), Wriothesley (Genshin), Columbina (Genshin), Mondo (Danganronpa), Chihiro (Danganronpa), Till (alnst), Ivan (alnst), Stranger (Omori), Kel (Omori), Aubrey (Omori), Lemon (Tbhk), Tsuchigomori (Tbhk), Aoi (Tbhk), Asuka (nge), Rei (nge), Kaworu (nge), Lilia (mdld), Necrologist (R1999), Pavia (R1999), Зима (R1999), Bede (Pkmn swsh), Allister (Pkmn sh), Gladion (Pkmn sumo), Cynthia (Pkmn blwh), N (Pkmn blwh), Weird Girl (Frankenweenie)

Fav artists ; Miyashita Yuu, Malice Mizer, Hiiragi Kirai, Maretu, Kikuo, Kaneto-Juusei, Dadaroma, The GazettE, Mejibray, Tuyu, Gero, Syudou, Chogakusei, Azari, Wowaka, Iroha (Sasaki), Owata P, Wonderful★opportunity!, Kanaria, Deco*27, Lanndo, Tooboe, John, Teniwoha, Guchiry, Nakiso, Yugica, Kairikibear, Amy, ----, Solya, Suicidal-Idol, Eve, Ado, Gulu gulu, Lamp, Elita, Fake Type, x0o0x_, Milgram, Wakusei Abnormal, Sheena Ringo, Shinsei Kamattechan, Nastyona, Abuse, Masa Works Design, Reisai, Dazey and the Scouts, shimon, Slave.V-V-R, Sumia, Nilfruits, Giga, Demondice, Kankan, PinnochioP, Marina, Maneskin, Alex G, Destroy Boys, Men I Trust, Sir Chloe, Zombie Girl, Sohodolls, Rammstein, Oomph!, IAMX..... and many more...!

I will probably update this later, but I was just burnt out and wanted to take my mind off things by rambling about myself >< I will now get back to reqs!!!

(By the way, if you guys have any recommendations for anime // movies to watch, games I might like, or songs // artists I might enjoy plsplspls tell me)

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dreams-of-yunho · 3 years

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summer strawberries

yunho x y/n

rating: m

genre: smut with a dash of fluff

wc: 2.4k

warnings: steamy shower sex!!!! oral (f r), kinda hand job idk if it counts, light praising, mentions of melted ice cream :o

summary: the hot summer sun is horribly unforgiving. and what's better on a hot summer day but a cool shower? or, even better, a cool shower with mr. jeong yunho? <3

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It was hot. Unberably, ridiculously, stupid, dumb hot. The kind of heat where nail polish becomes sticky and ink won’t dry. Brain melting hot. At least there was a breeze; wind riffled through leaves causing storms of maple tree seeds to fall to the sun torchered ground. Birds cried harshly as winds jostled their homes. Small creatures kept to the shadows: rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks skirting the sickening heat. Delicate and dainty flower petals wilted tragically.

And what were you to do? It was too miserable to even lift a finger. You were surprised your body was still functioning, believing your heart should burst and your blood boil. Simply miserably miserable you positioned yourself upon the sofa in the living room, the shades drawn so as to not let the fires of hell enter the home. If it weren’t for his promise of ice cream in the next ten minutes, you would have removed all the food from the freezer and shut yourself in, even if it meant asphyxiation, you could not have cared less at this point. If the universe wanted you to melt so badly, why didn’t it just get it over with, the sadist?

Eleven minutes, you thought to yourself, if he takes eleven minutes, we’re through. The prospect of ice cream was not taken lightly in your family. Ice cream was a happy escape for you. A brief moment of release from the trials and tribulations of everyday life. In reality, it wasn’t that great a deal but, today, as the sea of flames spilled through the glass window panes, ice cream was life or death and you would kill for it. You would kill anyone.

As minute ten neared and beads of sweat ran down your back, the door opened and in walked your Knight in Shining Armour, Jeong Yunho.

You watched Yunho as he stood, pantting, in the entryway. You knew the heat was real because of the way he was dressed; he wore a simple white tank top and camouflage cargo shorts. His lightly curled, night black hair was concealed by a ballcap. He removed his sandals and walked towards the living room, barefeet softly padding across the hardwood.

“Okay,” he started. You stared up at him from your place on the couch as he stood in front of you. His cheeks were flushed and his face glistened with a sheen of sweat. “We have choices:” a drop of clear liquid emerged from his hat-covered hairline and dripped to his eyebrow. “Chocolate crunch,” he pulled an ice cream bar from his left hip pocket. “Strawberry and orange cream,” he held two bars previously in his right hip pocket. “And,” he pulled a final bar from his bottom left pocket, “brown sugar boba.”

You carefully observed the selections he held before you. You would take anything frozen, even black cherry walnut.

“But, the thing is,” his tone dropped. “They’re melted.” He shook the bags and you could hear liquid sloshing around.

A quiet rage filled your chest, burning through your lungs. “Yunho!” He lowered his head and dropped his shoulders. “Why did you put them in your pockets?”

“I thought it would protect them from the sun but, I think it acted as a sort of convection oven and escalated the melting process… don’t be mad at me.” He looked down at you through large, heart crushing, puppy dog eyes.

“Hmmmmmmmm,” you whined, destroyed by the lack of immediate ice cream. “We can put them in the fridge I guess. But, that’ll take forever, ugh.” You slowly dragged your hands across your face, collecting far more sweat than you could have imagined. “Ew,” you cringed, looking at your silken hands. “I guess I can shower while they’re in the freezer.”

“Wait,” Yunho called from the kitchen. “I need to shower first; I am drenched.”

“No, me first.”

“You’re not even off the couch,” he shut the freezer door. “How are you going to beat me to the bathroom?” A cocky smile spread on his rose petal lips.

“I’ll beat you.” You made an attempt to stand but your legs felt like jello-twigs and they collapsed under you. “Fine,” you sighed. “I’ll drown in my own sweat. Tell me you love me before it’s too late.”

It was impossible but you could hear him smiling from where he stood.

“y/n, my love,” his footsteps neared. “There is room for more than one in the shower.” Yunho extended a hand.

“Carry me.”

“Hmm,” he pretended to contemplate. “Fine.”

His actions were swift; strong hands reached under your legs and back, pulling you off the couch and to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck. He was sweaty but you didn’t mind.

Your feet met the cold, stone floor as he set you down in the bathroom. He moved to turn on the shower and you faced the mirror. Your hair was terribly frizzy (on account of the humidity) and fell this way and that, sticking to your damp forehead. Your face was puffy and your cheeks awfully rosy. You wore, it could barely be called, a tank top and no bra.

“Yunho,” you called gently. “I don’t think I want to do anything. I don’t feel very sexy right now.” You watched as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His hot breath stuck to your skin. “You’re hotter than this weather, darling.”

You laughed. “Cheesy.”

“Yet, completely true.” he set his chin on the top of your head and looked at you through the mirror. “Just a shower,” he promised. “Nothing more.”

Chilly water met your shoulders sending a shiver up your spine. But it felt nice. Water trickled over your face, down your neck and back, dragging the sweat and hardships of that day down the drain. Delicately scented, strawberry soap bubbled as you lathered it over your collar bones. “Let me get your back,” he said. Strong hands met your shoulder blades; massaging with his fingertips. Hands worked down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling back to rub the soap into your lower back.

“Mhm,” you moaned out as his fingers worked through the knots and tension.

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?” his hands ghosted lower.

“Hey,” you turned to face him. “You said just a shower.” He stood in front of you: tall and broad; godlike. The water was cold yet, blue veins pressed against the skin of his arms and hands. His dark hair was slicked back, accentuating the perfect bone structure of his face.

“Don’t you want a relaxing shower?”

You eyed his lush lips which were slightly parted in a gentle smile. Your gaze traveled his strong features and came to rest on his eyes. Those beautiful eyes; the eyes you fell for. The eyes that could never hide his feelings; eyes that told everything. There were little droplets of water caught on his eyelashes and he blinked them away.

You felt the urge to kiss him; setting your hands on either cheeks. You stood high on your tippy toes but he was still out of reach and was unwilling to help. “Yunho,” you gripped his face tighter. “Come here. I want to kiss you-”

He put a finger to your lips. “Just. a. Shower.”

“One kiss,” you whispered over the stream of the shower.

“One kiss,” he agreed.

You closed your eyes, waiting, expecting his lips upon yours. Instead, you felt his hands graze down your sides and hips, resting on the tops of your thighs. You opened your eyes to see Yunho drag the tip of his nose down your stomach. His warm breath hovered just in front of your sex. “Yunho, that’s not what I meant.” You put your hands on his chin, trying to pull his lips back to yours.

He only gripped your thighs harder. “You asked for a kiss,” he breathed. “I’m going to give you a kiss, my love.”

Every hair stood on end as his nose ran over your clit. He tilted his head back to lick a wet stripe against your sensitive nerves. You whined as his tongue landed directly on it, circling again and again. You could only whine as his lips enclosed you and your legs became wobbly.

“Y-yunho,” you moaned as he sucked. “I’m going to fall.” You tried to balance yourself against the wall and he wrapped his arms around your back, trying to stabilize you as he continued to suck and lick relentlessly. “Ah,” you could feel that familiar knot twist in your stomach as he began to kiss you harder. And, when that knot was at the verge of snapping, he removed his lips with a wet smack.

He groaned as he stood and met your eyes, watching you as you breathed haggardly, mouth gaping. A hand fell to your shoulder, moving a wet strand of hair back. “I’m a good kisser, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Yeah,” he hummed, running his hands up and down your back. “Would you like to kiss again?”

“Ha,” you scoffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. It was heavenly as your bodies collided; your hands tugging at his silky hair, tits against his abs, his nails pressing crescent moons into your hips.

You pulled back to catch your breath, still winded from him eating you out. “God,” you ran a thumb over his cheek. “You are a good kisser.”

You thought he would come right then and there, the look he gave you was steeped in passion and lust. His hand met your ass, pulling one leg up to his waist as he moved to press your back against the cold tile wall. He winced as his hard on pressed against your lower stomach.

You loved that look. You wanted to see it again; to know you made him feel good.

Your hand snaked between your bodies as you began to pepper light kisses across his collar bones. He gasped as you grabbed his dick in your hand. You felt his Adam's apple bob as your lips moved to his neck. You squeezed him a little harder and his head fell back with a moan, giving you more beautiful canvas.

Warm fingers met your clit and you dropped your head to his neck, already sensitive from his mouth. “You’re so wet,” he ran his fingers back and forth through your folds, each movement causing you to moan against his chest.

“We-we’re in the shower,” you managed.

A deep laugh vibrated through his chest and his dick twitched in your hand. “I guess you’re right.” He pulled at your other leg. “Come here.”

“Yunho,” you raised your head. “If you slip and drop me,” you warned as effectively as you could with his fingers working you so wonderfully.

“I would never let you fall,” his strong arms pulled you close. “Jump.”

You managed to jump the best you could and one of Yunho’s hands was there to meet you. “Good job, baby,” he lowered you down his body a little.

You could feel him lining up, his tip pushing at your entrance. His eyes fell to yours, watching your face as he lowered you slowly onto him. You groaned as he moved deeper into you, parting you. “Is it okay,” a hand rubbed your back lovingly.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You can keep going.”

He smiled slightly and loosening his grip on your back one last time, bottomed out with a moan.

You tugged at his hair as you adjusted to his immense size.

“Okay?” He kissed your cheeks.

“Yes, just give me a sec.” You moved your hips up and down, desperate for the pain to subside.

“Jesus,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “A warning next time.”

You clenched around him in response.

“Cheeky,” he chuckled.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Move.”

“Okay,” he smiled down at you. He captured your moans in a kiss as he thrusted into you.

He was gentle with you, as he always was. He carefully watched you, making sure everything felt good, that he made you feel good. “That’s it, baby,” he cooed. “You’re so pretty.”

You gripped his shoulders as his pace began to quicken and you couldn’t help but clench as his veins dragged against your walls.

“If you keep doing that,” he choked out between thrusts. “I’m going to come right now.”

You slumped against his chest. You wanted to listen to him but he was making you feel so good. Your body was coming completely relaxed and undone in his touch. Your mind, your body, your heart; you were so at ease being with him.

However, your nerves began to spark as his fingers fell to your clit. You could tell he was close because he dropped his forehead to yours wordlessly, his nose scrunched. And he loved when you two came together; Completely free in each other’s arms.

He seemed to completely forget about the slick watery surface he stood on and began to pound into you as fast and as hard as he could. You moaned and mewled as he hit deeper and deeper with each thrust.

“I’m gonna come, y/n,” he warned, his pace becoming erratic and you clenched harder around him, feeling your high approaching too.

“Me too, Yunho,” you whined as he hit your g-spot with a particular force.

You came loudly, fingers desperately searching for something to grip, finally resting on his toned biceps.

He followed you almost immediately, his hips ramming into yours sloppily as his dark eyes bored into yours, a lazy smile on his swollen lips. He pulled out and slumped to the shower floor, holding you tightly in his arms. He gently peppered your face with kisses. “I love you, y/n.”

You giggled as he found a ticklish spot behind your ear. “I love you too, Yunho.” You sighed as you saw his cum run out of your pussy and down the shower drain. “We should have sex in the shower more often; easier to be lazy.”

“I tire you out that much, huh?”

“My god,” you scoffed. “Cocky bastard.”

“You love it,” he teased, massaging the inside of your sore thighs.

You rolled your eyes. “Wanna wash my hair?” You asked, only half kidding.

“I would but, I don’t want to. I want to stay like this.”

“Me too,” you agreed, sinking deeper into his arms. “I could fall asleep like this.”

“Yeah,” his raspy voice responded. “Me too.”

#ateez yunho #ateez x reader #ateez smut #kpop smut #kpop fic #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #ateez fluff #ateez senarios #kpop senarios #kpop imagines #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader smut

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deancaskiss · 2 years

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For Day 7 of @drgarth and @starrynightdeancas (that’s me) B & B’s Holiday Advent Calendar Event!

Snowball Fight // Mittens // “White Christmas”

Ducking down behind an embankment, Dean rubbed his hands to keep warm as he waited for the perfect moment. Any second now, Jack and Cas would be meeting him and Sam at the edge of the woods so they could track a supposed werewolf together.

Except there weren't any werewolves.

But this was an ambush.

Scooping his hands down into the snow, Dean grinned as he heard the telltale sounds of crunching footsteps. Glancing his eyes over to Sam’s hiding place, Dean nodded and Sam nodded back.

“Dean? Sam?” Cas called out.

Now.

Jumping up, Dean threw his perfectly rounded snowball straight at Cas’ chest, watching as the puffy ball of snow burst and covered Cas’ shirt in little crystals of ice. “Gotcha,” Dean grinned triumphantly, just as Sam’s snowball made contact with Jack’s shoulder.

Cas blinked in surprise for half a second as he looked between the brothers. Jack burst out in laughter and immediately bent down to grab his own handful of snow. “It’s on,” Jack cried, chasing after Sam and throwing snow at his retreating back.

Somehow, even though Dean and Sam were the ones to launch the attack, Jack and Cas were both currently wearing mittens; mostly because Cas was insistent that Jack’s fingers should stay warm in the cold Minnesota weather. Now, those mittens were an advantage, because Dean’s fingers were already freezing and the snowball fight had only just begun.

Far too busy thinking about Cas’ hands and the soft blue mittens he was wearing, Dean wasn’t expecting the attack.

Snow burst across his jaw, and he sucked in a sharp breath of shock as some of the snow trickled down his collar in a biting chill. Looking up, Dean watched as Cas smirked in victory from a few feet away, giving Dean a small bow.

Oh. Two could play at that game.

“Is that the best that you can do?” Dean challenged, hand sneaking behind his back until his fingers grazed over the mound of snow behind him.

“You think you can do any better?” Cas shot back, eyes twinkling against the backdrop of the white snow. He looked so beautiful in the dazzling light, and Dean almost felt bad for what he was about to do. Almost.

Raising an eyebrow in challenge, Dean grinned. “Yeah, I think I can.” Handful of snow finally secured in his palm, Dean darted forward and shoved the snow in Cas’ face. Laughing in glee, Dean took off at a run, darting between the trees as Cas chased after him, hurling handfuls of snow at Dean’s back.

Just when Dean thought he’d lost Cas and he’d won the snowball fight, a weight tackled him from behind and he tumbled to the ground, landing in a mound of snow.

“Gotcha,” Cas said, echoing Dean’s words from earlier as he pinned Dean down with a laugh.

With his back cold and his fingertips freezing, Dean pretended to concede. Wrapping one arm around Cas’ back, Dean sneakily grabbed one last handful of snow. “Yeah, you got me. But I got you,” he said, and before Cas could realize what Dean meant, Dean shoved a handful of snow down the back of Cas’ shirt.

“Dean!” Cas gasped, flailing just enough that Dean could break free. They rolled around in the snow together, laughing, and Cas’ cold lips found his in a chaste little kiss that warmed Dean all the way to the tips of his fingers.

“We should stay here for a couple weeks. Have a white Christmas for once,” Dean said as he pulled back from the kiss. “Whaddya think?”

Cas grinned, nodding happily. “Enough time for a rematch. I won’t let you win the next snowball fight.”

“Oh, you let me win, huh?” Dean teased, ghosting their mouths together again.

“Maybe,” Cas teased right back, capturing Dean’s lips in another kiss before Dean could boast about his obvious victory.

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 3 years

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Touch it for Real, Part 7

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

A/N: DON'T YELL AT ME ABOUT THE TENSION. I KNOW IT!!! Be nice.

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8

Nothing had changed.

Nothing outwardly had changed. Baekhyun moved about as he always did.

Nothing had changed at all about your home life and yet you had been stumbling around on two unsteady feet for the past week with this new and terrible ache building inside of your belly and yet, nothing had actually changed. It was a longing. A desire to possess something that you could not have.

It was as if the realization that you loved him and had loved him for a long time had turned up the brightness on your view of him. He was luminous. You’d been wearing dark shades for so long and when you took them off you were blinded by him.

You were aware that you were acting weird around him. How could you not be aware; it was turning into an obsession at this point. You woke early and slept late, eager to find any reason to be around him for the simple pleasure of watching him.

Things you’d found annoying in the past, his crazed deafening outbursts while gaming; the sloppy way he took too-big bites and stuffed his cheeks with food as he chewed, barely able to close his lips; the half dazed foot shuffles through your home at two in the afternoon when he’d just rolled out of his bed and moved like a zombie toward the fridge for water and sausages from the cupboards; all of these things that made you roll your eyes before were now doing something else to you that you couldn't excuse. You found yourself smiling just thinking about him. You were looking at him now with new eyes. Eyes that were biased and eyes that were crazy.

You were so very drawn to him.

It felt like a new hobby; 5am wake up with a buzzing alarm on your phone, shower, change, slip over to his door and press an ear to the wood for a chance to catch the sounds of his voice speaking into an ear piece to someone on the other side of the world. A soft knock against the wood and a low voice, his grunted voice returning your knock and you’d slip into his space for what you could only describe as a sick voyeuristic chance to watch him play his game. You just wanted to look at him. The urge was so strong; to see him. You just wanted to look at nothing but him; the first thing you saw in the morning and the last thing you saw at night.

Baekhyun would turn around to look at you as you crawled sleepily into his bed and you’d pretend to fall asleep until he turned back to his game and then you would just watch him.

You liked the shape of him when he sat at his desk. You liked the broadness of his shoulders and the curve of the back of his head. How could his back be so attractive? He had a strong and reliable back. You felt an immeasurable comfort in the rapid, rhythmic sound of his fingers typing on his keyboard and the way he lowered his voice into his headset when he thought you were sleeping in his bed behind him. Sometimes you’d actually drift off though. Lulled into a deep comfortable sleep that felt so much better than any sleep you’d managed in your own bed until you’d be lightly roused by a hand on your shoulders and the sound of his voice calling your name in a whisper.

“Bug, it’s almost time for work,” he would urge and you would groan and stretch, surprised that you had slept so well.

You’d stay there every possible second until you had to report to your work on your own computer.

It was late in the afternoon on a Thursday. The weather had been cold and miserable all week but through your window for the first time all season you felt the warm sun rays landing against your face. How long had it been since you felt the sunshine? You thought perhaps this called for a celebration. Maybe winter would be short this year and you could celebrate a little early with a dinner time barbecue out on the terrace. You knew the wind might still be cold despite that warm sunshine that peeked through the cloud cover but you could handle that much.

It was your turn to make dinner and you hit the final keys on your work assignments and rushed through your room getting ready for a quick trip to the market. You’d get some meat for grilling, some delicious fresh veggies and maybe a bottle of alcohol to sip on. Nothing too crazy, you didn't really trust yourself drunk.

Outside, the air was crisp but at least it wasn’t raining, or worse, snowing. This would do just fine.

When you returned from the market with your arms full of shopping bags your happiness about the unseasonably warm weather outside and your excitement for a tiny cook-out spread rapidly to your roommate who was happily pulling on a soft cable-knit sweater to go outside with his little bluetooth speaker as he set up the portable grill out on the patio table.

The buzz you felt inside of your chest while watching him was incomparable. His smile was wide and beautiful. His teeth were white and perfect and the way his eyes closed up when he really got to smiling wide made your heart do little flips. You couldn't contain your own wide smile when his eyes bounced over to touch yours and that smile on his lips pulled even wider — it sent a jolt straight through you — he was electric. He was a lightning bolt and you felt so high up, of course you were hit first.

The meat was sizzling on the grill and Baekhyun was sitting across the table from you just watching as you snipped the long strips of pork and beef into smaller bite size chunks with scissors and flipped them with long cooking tongs when they started to turn brown.

He was unusually quiet as you worked and it took nearly all of your fortitude to keep from staring at his face openly with an obvious love struck expression. You were thankful that it was your turn to cook this dinner and Baekhyun didn’t even try to take the tongs away from you and take over the grilling. At least you had something to do that wasn’t just staring into the softness you caught in his eyes across the table. You wondered what had to be on his mind that made him look at you this way.

Some of the meat was done and you moved it toward a cooler section of the grill pan, motioning with your tongs toward the quiet man to grab it and eat it but he just sat there with a disconnected look on his face.

He was moving so slowly today. Maybe he wasn't that hungry. You hoped it wasn’t getting too cold out here now that the sun was slipping lower in the sky.

When he didn't immediately move, you sighed and grabbed a piece of lettuce, wrapping the meat inside with some veggies and some of the fillings you knew he liked and you stood up in your seat, holding the wrap up to his face, expecting him to lean forward and grab it with his hands and begin eating already.

When he finally did move it was preceded by a bright smile and he leaned forward and opened his mouth, grabbing the food firmly between his lips, he bit down with his teeth and you felt the brush of his soft lips against your fingertips as he took the bite of food into his mouth straight from your hand.

You could feel the warmth and it was instant. As if someone had turned on a space heater in front of your chest and turned it on full blast.

The ghost of that tiny brush of his lips against your fingers lingered and your mind grabbed hold of it, echoing the sensation again and again with each pound your heart made inside of your chest.

Baekhyun was chewing and he hummed out in appreciation at the deliciousness of the meal you’d provided. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips to hide the smile that took over your face and you noticed he finally picked up his own chopsticks and began building himself another bite to eat. He was grabbing meat, two pieces, added a dab of sauce on top and grabbed a few delicious additions and he was carefully wrapping the tasty package into a tight ball with his fingertips.

You’d just swallowed the wine and had looked down to flip the meat when you caught his movement. He stood from his chair and he leaned, in the exact same way as you had done and you laughed out loud at the sweet expression you saw on his face as he held the food up to your face.

“Ahh,” he said and you leaned forward to receive his offering.

When your lips parted, his fingers pushed forward and your brain buzzed in chaos when his thumb grazed slowly along your bottom lip. He moved too slowly. His fingertips lingered. You let out a breath of air through your nose and his fingers did not break contact with your lips until you’d closed your mouth up and started to chew the food he’d given you.

You felt as if your face was burning. You chewed quickly, hardly even tasting the food that was in your mouth as your eyes tracked his movement; you could not look away from him if you tried. He sat back in his chair with his empty hand held up and the pad of his thumb brushing back and forth over his fingertips, the fingers that had just touched your mouth so carelessly and as he sank into his seat he brought his hand up to absentmindedly touch along his bottom lip.

Your thoughts were fuzzy. Everything outside of his brown eyes took on a soft dreamlike blur.

The eye contact he was holding broke suddenly and he inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, dropped his hand from his lips and looked down at the table of food spread out before you both.

He had a glass of ice water beside him and he lifted it to pull the cooling liquid into his mouth.

You watched the way his jaw worked when he swallowed. You watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out.

You had lived with Baekhyun for more than two years and you’d never been quite this affected by the man having a drink of water before.

He set the empty glass down roughly on the table and the noisy thud the glass made woke you from the silent reverie. It sharpened your mind and lit a match under your tongue fueled by a growing curiosity that had been filling up your every waking thought lately.

“Baekhyun,” your voice came out a whisper and the sound of his name made his eyebrows lift and he looked across the table at you. “Have you ever fallen in love?”

You weren’t sure where this question came from or why you were suddenly so bold to ask him such a thing, but you were burning with curiosity about the man. Maybe it was the half of a glass of wine that had already made its way into your bloodstream as you sat here and picked at this delicious meal you shared with him.

He was chewing now and the corners of his lips had turned up into a small smile as he looked across the table at you.

There was a strange pause in his movement to reach for the water pitcher so he could refill his glass.

“Yes,” he said softly after he swallowed his food he continued his reaching, finding the pitcher and pouring more water inside his empty glass. His small answer quenched a small bit of the thirst you had inside of you and this new found knowledge about him made you feel warm inside.

He drank and you smiled wide and genuine, somehow elated at the idea that he’d felt this wonderful feeling at one point in his life. The idea that this beautiful man knew exactly how good this feeling of love was; it made your head swim.

You reached for your wine again, draining the rest of your glass and immediately followed it with a big spoon of rice to somehow combat the alcohol with the only weapon you had to fight it. If only the wine hadn’t tasted so damn sweet on your tongue. You’d drank the glass too quickly and you considered the waiting bottle that sat beside you on the table, begging you to give in to just one more glass.

“Have you?”

It was Baekhyun’s turn to ask now and you turned away from the begging bottle to look into that tempting softness he had in his eyes. What was this mood he had fallen into? Was it the sunset? The clouds rolling in front of the setting sun created a beautiful scene. You saw purple, blue, red, and bright orange. The view was absolutely perfect.

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

His voice was so quiet and the warmth of his tone was enveloping you entirely.

“Yes,” you said. You reached for the bottle and tapped into some source of super-human self control you hadn’t known you had in you; you poured only half a glass.

This one, you would sip. For your own good, for the love of God, you would sip it.

“How do you love someone?” Baekhyun had leaned forward in his seat and his eyes tracked the movement of your glass as you lifted it to your lips and you took your first sip. Sweet wine, sweet man with sweet looks in his eyes and sweet questions on his lips. For the first time you wondered if you might be in real danger of making a mistake tonight.

Your brain kicked in. He was asking you important life questions now and you looked upward toward the darkening sky as you pondered this. This must be one of his life lesson questions. Maybe he wanted some advice on how to treat a girl he loved properly. You considered your words thoughtfully.

“Umm...I think...people show they love someone by—”

“No, not that,” he interrupted your answer, stopping you with a raised hand. Then he pointed a finger across the table toward you, “not other people. How do you love someone, Bug? What is your love like?”

Oh.

It was such a raw question.

You were suddenly thankful for the wine you’d already had to drink because you’d never been asked something like this. Not by him or by anyone. In fact, you’d never even thought about it.

How were you, when you were in love. What kind of a lover were you? He was watching you as you considered and your lips opened and closed twice as you tried to think of the perfect answer to this very difficult question.

You thought about your past relationships. Honestly it was hard to remember the good in hindsight. The bad times seemed to jump out at you. The childish way you sometimes acted, the selfish things you’d done and blamed it all on love at the time. Maybe you had been too young to really know what love was. This was part of the reason why you felt so resistant to it. You’d never had a love that hadn't turned bad and burned you from the inside. Maybe you just weren't cut out for love.

And now, with him, the pining, the scheming, the watching, and daydreaming. The fantasies of his touch, of his laugh, of his kiss. Going out of your way to make him smile. Little things you would do just to get him to look at you. The ache you felt in your fingers to touch him. The sweet satisfaction of actually doing it. You’d do anything for it. For him. You’d been doing anything; slipping into his bed just to smell him all around you.

“Shameless,” you said out loud — because you’d do anything. You didn’t even know what you were capable of yet, but you felt like a dangerous woman just thinking about it.

His focus drifted and he exhaled a puff of air through his lips. You heard the smallest chuckle from his throat and a smile pulled at his lips.

“Shameless?” He asked with a bounce of his eyebrows. His water glass was in his hand and he lifted and poured the last few drops into his mouth. It had been hardly anything at all and you watched him curiously as you forced another bite of rice down your throat.

“What does that mean? How do you love shamelessly? Explain that to me.”

You’d been watching his hands as he talked. There was an electricity buzzing around in his eyes that felt almost challenging and you’d expected him to reach for the water pitcher again to add another tiny sip to his glass and make a big show of drinking it down but instead of reaching for it, his hand shot across the table to grip around the neck of the wine bottle.

You were positively transfixed. He lifted the bottle and brought it to his side of the table and you heard the glass spout clink against the rim of his empty glass and the steady glug glug glug of liquid poured too fast through the small opening and he filled his glass most of the way full with deep blood-red liquid.

It was at least as much as you had had to drink already.

Baekhyun was drinking with you. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a long pull of the alcohol into his mouth and he swallowed roughly with his eyes closed. You felt amused by the sight. Strangely comforted by his company even more now that he had joined you inside this bottle of wine.

When he looked up into your face, your shocked expression must have been funny to him because he laughed just once before opening his mouth to speak again.

“Go on,” he said as he lifted his hand across the table toward you. You couldn't tell if he meant you should drink your wine too or if you should answer his question so you lifted your glass to your lips for a big swallow and then you opened your mouth to put your thoughts into words.

Baekhyun was still drinking the wine in his glass and you hoped his full belly of meat and veggies would keep him from becoming too wasted too quickly. You were enjoying his company too much for him to suddenly hit the table and pass out. You were also pretty sure it would be difficult to carry his body into his bedroom if he was unable to walk himself. While you’d never seen him wasted, you’d always assumed he abstained from drinking simply because he could not handle the alcohol.

“I’m shameless, I mean,” you began, trying to find the words to explain what a disaster you were when you fell in love without incriminating yourself too much, “I’m dumb. I’m jealous. I’m clingy and needy and desperate.” This was sounding awful. Why were you such a mess when you fell in love. “I’m probably very annoying to whichever poor soul...”

Baekhyun had emptied his glass as you talked and he licked his lips, leaving behind a telltale red hue along his bottom lip. “Sounds brave to me,” he said quietly to the inside of his glass.

“But, Peanut I thought you couldn’t drink.”

“I never said I can’t.”

The wind changed suddenly and a surprising gust flew over the table, taking a napkin and tossing it across the surface of the table. You reached for it at the same time as he reached and his reaction time was faster. As he gripped the cloth, your hand landed over the back of his warm hand and the surprise of that unintended warmth of his smooth hand made you recoil quickly.

If he noticed he didn’t react. For all you knew this struggle was taking place entirely inside your head. Baekhyun was just having a casual dinner conversation with his dumb roommate who had just acted like his hand was fire as she’d just been singed.

“But you don’t,” you said carefully, coming to some new realization about the man’s habits in self control. In his own personal dos and don’ts.

With this Baekhyun smirked and nodded his head once.

“Not usually, no. I try not to, at least.” His lips pulled wide. It wasn’t a smile, but more of a grimace. When he moved again he was gripping around the wine bottle once more and you left him to it. He refilled his own glass and your eyes followed the movement as he tipped the bottle over your wine glass and emptied the remaining liquid into yours.

So much for only one drink. (OKAY, one and a half. Shut up…)

“So what’s got you drinking tonight?”

It occurred to you that while you had been lost in the ocean of your silly crush on him, Baekhyun might actually have something on his mind that was troubling him.

Something that had turned his mood quiet like this and something that had bothered him enough to be drinking half of your bottle of wine tonight.

The last time you’d seen him drink wine was after he’d bombed that first phone call with Mia. The taste of her name on the back of your tongue soured the sweetness of the wine some.

“Nerves, I guess.” His small confession traveled on the chilly wind and you felt a tiny raindrop on your cheek that signaled trouble.

Baekhyun lifted his glass to his lips once more. It was almost empty now. The light in his eyes was much dimmer than when this evening started. He pulled his lips wide with a wince, “the date...on Saturday.”

His words were sticky as they made their way across the table and you felt another cold rain drop. Was he feeling this too or was it just you.

He must not have felt what you did because he kept talking, “do you know I’ve been stood-up before?”

The wine seemed to have loosened his jaw. Baekhyun didn’t usually talk openly about the embarrassing dating failures he’s had. He definitely didn’t smile ruefully with a deep wounded sadness in his eyes as he did it.

The sad smile pulled his lips wider and he found your eyes across from the table as he lifted both of his hands and raised his fingers. He was counting something. Showing you a number with seven fingers raised and he mouthed silently, “seven times,” and he licked his lips and bit down on his bottom lip and hung his head with his chin down to his chest.

You were shaking your head widely. Madness, that any woman in her right mind would look at this man and find enough fault to stand him up. That someone with half a brain in her head wouldn't jump at the chance to go out with him.

“What if,” he mumbled and the wind picked up again blowing your sweater tightly around your arms and your chest.

“She will come.” You said confidently, interrupting his anxious thoughts with your determined certainty at what you were positive was true. Mia liked Baekhyun at least as much, if not more, as Baekhyun liked Mia.

He was watching your face now. Waiting for the cold wind to die down enough for you to hear what he was saying to you without having to raise his voice.

“What if she doesn’t?”

You didn’t like the defeatist attitude he was sporting now. He was losing this fight without having ever set foot on the battlefield. It filled you with even more determination than you had when you started this whole dating coach thing.

“If she doesn’t show then she’s a fucking idiot and we’ll just have to ditch Ben and go have our own hot date; just me and you.”

At last he laughed. It was a single guffaw straight from his chest and it sounded glorious. Somewhere off in the horizon you caught a flash in the clouds. A storm was coming.

“You’d do that for me, Bug? What if I’m too upset to be any fun? What if I get bad again?”

At the mention of his moods you felt a pang in your heart. The darkness that sometimes followed him around when he stayed locked in his room for days, hardly ate anything and refused all attempts you’d made to coax him out.

It hadn’t happened since you’d grown close to him and you had begun to think you’d dreamed such occurrences that felt like such a distant memory to you.

“I won’t let you. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to make you feel better. Hell we can even practice making-out in the back of the theatre.”

This made him laugh harder. His cheeks were pink and his smile was beautiful.

“That would certainly take my mind off of anything, LoveBug.”

You knew he said it as a joke. He was laughing and everything when he said it. Yet the words he said paired with the nickname that always sent your heart racing had a rapid effect on you. Your breath quickened and you were so thankful that the sun had gone down and taken with it all of its incriminating lighting that would allow him to see you clearly. You were certain that you were blushing and you’d now gone completely silent.

But Baekhyun was still giggling to himself at the thought and you felt the smallest tinge of disappointment that he found the idea of making out with you in the back of a movie theater like a couple of high school kids so hilarious that he was still laughing about it. You lifted your wine glass and shook the last few drops into your open mouth. The bottle was empty and you were consumed by a mountain of regret at only buying the one.

It happened in an instant. The cold air quickly picked up speed around you took on a crisp fragrance and in that same moment there was a flash of bright light with an instantaneous loud boom that echoed inside your eardrums and made you scream as you covered your head from the loud scary noise. It echoed inside your chest and you could feel the shaking inside of you at the shock. It had been so fucking close you could feel the hairs on your arm standing upright. Without realizing it, your scream had turned into a quiet cry of fear and you could feel the trembling in your fingertips as you tried to wrap your arms around your body protectively.

“Shh...Let’s go inside,” you could hear Baekhyun’s voice against your ear and you could feel the warmth of his arms wrapped around your shoulders. His arms were rubbing calming motions up and down your back as he steered you carefully around the corner toward the doorway that led to your bedrooms. As quickly as the lightning strike had filled you with a trembling terror happened the skies then opened up and a thunderous deluge of freezing water fell from the heavens and instantly soaked you both from head to toe.

“Shit,” he cursed out loud. Ice cold rainwater slapped hard against your skin. Frigid winds whipped the streams of rain over your head, biting and stinging against your face and you both ran for cover as his hands found the door and pushed it open in front of you and you stepped inside the silent darkness of his bedroom with two or three steps in with Baekhyun pushing through the doorway behind you. You heard the grunt and the effort behind you as he pulled the door closed tightly and when the door was shut you were bathed in complete still blackness.

“The power’s out,” you heard him say through chattering teeth and after a second of rustling sounds a beam of light from his raised cellphone illuminated the darkened space.

It felt so foreign to you. This room was always a hum of lights and sounds and noise and everything was just dead. The plug pulled; the life snuffed out, you were overwhelmed by just how loud the silence in this room felt. It was suffocating.

You were shaking where you stood. Too cold and still trembling too hard from the close call with the lightning to feel comfortable moving, you jumped and yelped when the sounds of Baekhyun moving around his room shocked you again. He was moving through the darkness, using the flashlight from his cell phone to see. You heard so much movement but could hardly make out what all was happening until you felt someone tugging at the soaking wet hoodie you wore.

“Take this off before you catch a cold.” Baekhyun was speaking to you in the darkness and you felt cold slim fingers pushing dry garments into your hands.

The light from his phone went out and you were bathed in darkness again.

“Hurry and change, you’re shaking too much.”

You could hardly grip the hem of your soaked sweater with how badly your hands were shaking and you had dropped the warm dry clothes he had given you somewhere down at your feet.

“B-Baek, I d-drop-ped — c-can’t s-see,” the chattering of your teeth felt violent. You felt as if you could bite off your tongue or crack a molar with as hard as they were chattering. Was this just the cold or had you been hit by that lightning outside and were you about to drop dead from the electric currents running through your body?

A person appeared before you. You felt him there. Your eyes were beginning to adjust to the blackness and occasionally flashes of lightning through the window would illuminate bits here and there. You could make out the outline of his broad shoulders. There was a flash were you saw his skin. Another flash with a fresh shirt pulled over his head and you were beginning to feel numb to the cold. Numb and dizzy feeling all over; like you could drop to the floor right here.

“Lift your hands.” His voice called to you and you did as you were told, feeling the sticky way your clothes clung to you and tried to hold on. Your skin below was icy and bare. Fingers that were so much warmer than your own slipped down your hips, pushing wet garments down. Heavy soaked jeans. Wet panties. You even dropped your arms to let your bra fall to the floor at your feet and a warm fluffy towel wrapped you up quickly as he rubbed over the surface of you, drying your skin and warming you with the friction.

It felt like life. Like you might just make it.

“I don't have any underwear for you, I’m sorry. Just put these warm pants on.” You stepped into the legs of the pants and looked down at the sight of him crouched down on his knees before your nakedness. A flash of light illuminated the room for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for you to catch the drift of his eyes. Just long enough for his eyes to lift into your own and you knew that flash had been enough to imprint the image of you completely bare before him into his memory.

You did not have enough heat in you to blush. He was moving faster, pulling a long sleeve sweatshirt over your head, covering your breasts and belly with the soft warm fleece.

“Come lay down,” you were pulled by both arms. Your bare feet felt like ice cubes but they moved where you were led to lay down under the warm covers of his bed.

Despite the fluffy blankets and the soft mattress below your feet, you still shivered. It was awful. Nothing you tried seemed to make you warm and Baekhyun had disappeared somewhere in the darkness.

“Baek,” you called into the black but it was silent. He did not respond. You could feel a fearful panic begin to rise up. You just couldn't get warm enough. Where was he?

The wind shifted and you heard the rain hitting the windows of his bedroom harder and somewhere in the distance you heard a sound. It sounded like a struggle between a man and a patio door. Banging and thumping and cursing right out loud and then he barged back into his bedroom breathing hard and soaking wet again.

“Here Bug, catch.”

Something was coming. You felt panic then. You absolutely could not see anything in front of you and he’d just said the word catch which told you he was about to throw something at you and you screamed and buried your head deeper under his covers.

You felt a light thump land over your chest. Something small. How dare he throw something at you during a blackout. You slipped your hand out cautiously and felt a plastic cylinder. It was a small flashlight.

You turned it on and shone it across the room and Baekhyun was standing in the center of his room with his arms tight around his stomach, dripping wet from head to toe again from whatever he felt he needed to go back outside for.

You could hear his heavy breathing and the shaking from across the room.

“Baekhyun, get over here. You’re shaking.” His teeth chattered audibly and he rocked back and forth on his legs where he stood but he still wouldn’t move.

“I h-had t-to get th-the st-st-stove—”

You didn't need his explanations right now. He needed to get those wet clothes off and get under this blanket with you right now before he died of hypothermia.

“Byun Baekhyun shut the fuck up and take off the wet clothes right now. Come here and get warm. I swear to God if you die—”

Finally he was moving. Your threats must have sounded serious enough for him to move close to the bed. The will to survive was strong. You clicked the flashlight off when he pulled off his shirt. Through the limited light from the windows you caught the drop of his pants and you pulled your focus up on the blackness of the ceiling above you when you felt the blanket move and the bed beside you dipped.

The temperature of his body was a shock. He was so cold. All over; his skin was absolutely freezing and you turned into him as soon as you felt it. You laid your arms and legs over him and pulled his bare shoulders into your chest in a tight embrace. The hair on top of his head was very wet and you used the blanket to rub over his head, hoping the friction would help some; hoping to dry some of the wetness.

He was shaking so hard. Small vocalizations came from his throat with every other tremble as he tried to control it and you tried not to jump when you felt his icy fingertips make contact with your bare stomach when he’d reached for your warmth and the loose sweatshirt you wore had shifted to expose your skin. His fingers did not pull away. The desire for your warmth was too strong and his entire palm laid over your bare skin. Cold. So cold. You shifted then, moving your own hand over his own to cover where he was frozen. To warm him back up. The spot of your skin where his hand laid had lost too much heat and you gripped his hand in yours and placed it up higher on your rib cage where you had more warmth for him.

You knew this was about survival.

He was warming up. You could feel the change as his chest stopped shaking and he stopped moving his hand up higher on your skin. He’d stopped just short of your breast and your heart was racing so fast in your chest you figured he had to be able to feel it.

The desire was a raging fire inside of you. His hands were warmer now and yet he was still touching so much of your bare skin. His legs had given up the vibrating tremble and you still felt the tightness of his thighs holding your legs hostage.

The storm roared outside and inside here you both cocooned under this warm blanket in this shared bed and slowly, little by little you felt the warmth return to his body as it had returned to yours.

He had gone motionless when his shaking stopped and his breathing evened out. You’d briefly considered that he might have fallen asleep until you felt a slight flex in his fingertips. His hand flinched and moved and you felt a delicate sweeping motion in his fingertips that touched the warm skin over your rib cage.

Your eyes were closed as you focused on that movement and a small gasp of breath betrayed you when his thumb brushed along the underside of your bare breast.

You had to breathe. You had to inhale to stay alive and the act brought with it the heady fragrance of his body that joined you under this blanket.

You longed for more. You craved it. Shamelessness. With your eyes closed and his body heat pressed against you this way, what you wouldn't give to succumb to the desires that were flooding your body with more warmth than you could stand right now.

You moved a hand then, trailing your fingertips lightly up his shoulder, curving toward his neck to lightly touch the softness of his cheek.

His face turned with the feeling of your touch and you felt the hot breath from his parted lips that you touched with your fingertips. His breathing was heavy and it matched the labored breaths that came from your own chest.

Baekhyun’s lips were soft to touch. You felt the motion of them as he pursed them lightly and kissed the tip of your fingers that touched his mouth so freely like this.

You couldn't even remember what it felt like to be cold now. Every inch of your skin felt like it was burning.

“I’m...dizzy,” his low whisper filled the air with more warmth and on his voice was a whining complaint, “I...think I am drunk.”

His words made you pull your hand back down from his lips and you rested it over his chest as your mind whirled.

Baekhyun rarely drank any alcohol at all. He’d consumed a half a bottle of wine, had an encounter with near hypothermic temperatures and now you had him naked in his bed with truly wicked and shameless intentions. While it didn't start out that way, the situation had quickly escalated and you’d done nothing to stop it.

You were at war. Your desires and your conscience and you knew, you knew which one was on the right side.

“You feel so warm,” his whisper was back and he leaned into you as he said it against your ear. Against your neck he breathed in deep and spoke again, “mmm...fuck — you smell so good. I feel like I am making a mistake. This is a mistake. Please, not like this — not drunk.”

You had never felt this frustrated and this turned on in your entire life.

He shifted then and you felt the dip as the bed moved and Baekhyun pushed up with his arms and pushed with his legs and he rolled over you on the bed, placing a knee between your legs. As he rolled you felt the push of his hips where they landed perfectly between your thighs.

You wanted him. He felt so good on top of you. He fit perfectly between your parted legs, you wanted him.

You wanted to kiss him and hold him and you wanted the sex; you wanted to wrap your arms and your legs around his waist and pull him down into you but his words were protesting. You knew, you knew this could not happen.

You wouldn't do that to him. You would not, absolutely would not let his first time be a drunken mistake. You had more self control than that.

Something on the bed rolled when he moved and it knocked against your hand. Something hard and plastic. You reached for the flashlight and clicked the button, sending a burst of illumination up into his face where he hovered over you on the bed.

His eyes shaped shut at the sudden brightness and you struggled to keep yours open.

“Baekhyun,” you said through clenched teeth. Your own breathing was too ragged to try and sound calm as you spoke and he dropped his face, turning away from the bright light.

“We can’t.”

You bit down on your bottom lip. You were insane. You had lost your entire mind. You were in love with him, he was so beautiful and he was practically begging, begging you to fuck him right now. You felt the push of his hips between your legs and everything. But his words. And when his eyes opened you could see how glassy and disconnected his focus was. He was drunk and you would not do that to him.

“We can’t do this.”

It took a palm placed gently on his face for him to look into your eyes with any real focus and realization. “You know we can’t.”

With his chest heaving and his cheeks pink and flushed he looked into your eyes and nodded his head, knowing that you were right. Knowing that this had been a weak moment brought on by alcohol, made worse by the storm and the compromising position you had found yourself in and you felt him shift and push himself off of you.

You turned off the flashlight as he moved; in some attempt to save your sanity from having to relive the beautiful image of his naked body positioned on top of yours. It didn't really help. You were a mess anyway.

When he was off of you and covered on his bed, your only course of action was to leave this place. You could not stay so close to the temptation that had nearly undone everything. You could not even imagine waking up the next morning after such a drunken occurrence had occurred. At least you were leaving with your pride still intact. At least you would be able to look him in the eyes tomorrow morning and still feel like you were a good person.

You sat on the edge of his bed for a moment. Willing the chaos inside of your body to slow down some so you would not stumble as you walked out of here.

It took some doing. You could still feel it all over your body and you turned to look behind you at the man laying on his bed fighting whatever internal battle he was fighting and you found his eyes open, watching you.

He moved a hand and laid it over your own, squeezing lightly with his fingers.

“Thank you,” he said, “I’m sorry,” he added with a wince on his pretty face.

A wave of distaste rose inside at the sight; a feeling so powerful it led your movement down to him.

You leaned into him and you pressed your lips into the softness of his cheek, kissing him once. It took considerable strength to pull your lips away from him. It took even more strength to push yourself into a standing position and walk out of his bedroom, but you did it. You would even be okay eventually. After a shower and a glass of cold water, you would get past this and you would be able to keep living here without having fucked up the only good thing in your life during a moment of weakness.

You would be okay.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth @totallynerdstuff @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer @uhobob

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun Fic #baekhyun fanfic #exo fic #exo fanfic #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun series #exo series

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wintervvidow · 3 years

Text

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback. friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience.

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost.

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind.

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed.

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky.

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested.

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you."

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation.

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria.

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky.

Flashback:

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised.

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time.

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

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wwilloww · 4 years

Text

cliff diving pt. 2 | kth

CLIFF DIVING (m) | KTH 2 OF 3

genre: fluff. smut. nonidol!au. camping!au.

pairings: Taehyung | Reader

rating: 18+. NSFW. Explicit.

word count: 5.8k

warnings: cursing. talk of sex. skinny dipping. spooning. grinding. dirty talk.

summary: Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends haul ass out of the city to the mountains where you camp and hike in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun. This time, an innocent round of truth or dare inspires you and Tae to play a mischievous game without getting caught by your friends.

a/n: ahh I had so much fun writing this chapter. If you liked it, please let me know! And if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a comment and you’ll be notified as soon as the finale is published!

<- previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter ->

WWILLOWW©️ DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORK

“Ah, shit,” Jimin curses, wiping his brow and stepping back to examine his hard work. “I think I grabbed the wrong tent on my way out. It seems too small.”

Jungkook is holding the tent bag. “It says it’s a five-person. But we know that’s never quite enough to fit daddy long legs over here.” Jungkook nods at Tae.

“We’ll squeeze,” Jin adds, unaffected, already unloading the sleeping bags from the car.

And you do. With your bellies full of s’mores and limbs tired from a long day in the sun, you’re all ready to crash. Tae and Jin each take an edge. Within ten minutes of climbing into the warm shelter, Jungkook is passed out on his back and sprawled half-in, half-out of his sleeping bag in a fashion that leaves the rest of you to sleep on your sides, squeezed like sardines. Jimin slides easily into the small space between Jungkook and Jin, throwing an arm languidly over Jungkook's snoring form.

You’re the last one to enter the tent. Taehyung smiles sleepily at you, patting the remaining spot between him and Jungkook. You smile shyly back at him, before turning away from the boys to slip out of your shirt and into an extra-large sleep shirt and shorts. You’ve done this a million times before: changing in front of them before a night out or when one of them decides to crash at your place. And yet, you find yourself covering your chest in a poor exercise of modesty and ducking your head as you crawl onto the sleeping mat in between Taehyung and Jungkook.

After the events of the day and this strange burning feeling you get every time you’re around Taehyung, you feel an uncomfortable mix of tension and excitement. You curl up into the smallest space that you can, facing away from Tae.

It seems like forever. The night drags on and snores rise up from your friends. But all you can think of is the small space of air between you and the long-limbed man behind you. There’s an unnamable energy that flows within the empty space, sending tingles down your spine.

It’s a while before you fall asleep, but as do, you can almost imagine rough fingerpads ghosting against your skin.

When you wake, there’s a crick in your neck, half of Jungkook’s body thrown over your leg, and one of Taehyung’s arms sprawled across your chest. When you try to untangle yourself from your friends, there’s a sharp pain in your scalp and you look down to find Taehyung’s fingers twisted into your hair.

“Ow.” You throw your head back on your makeshift pillow, attempting to push the two men off you. You manage to tip Jungkook off of you and he grunts, rolls over to his side, and quickly falls back asleep. Taehyung, on the other hand, is a notoriously heavy sleeper.

“Tae,” you groan, shoving your palm into his face. He groans and smacks his lips together, but doesn’t move any more than that. “Tae,” you hiss, shoving him again.

His eyes pop open and he turns to look at you. As he takes in your flustered look and his hand tangled in your hair his eyes widen.

“Oh-oh shit.” He does his best to release your hair from his grasp, in the meantime snagging several hairs. You wince. Once he’s freed, he brings the other hand up to smooth over your head. “Sorry,” he murmurs, patting your head.

“‘S okay.” You smile gently up at him.

His gaze traces your features, a little sleep-puffed, but still beautiful. Your eyelashes flutter sleepily and your cheeks and nose are reddened from the cold--and your hair, tangled, and spread out across your pillow, and perfect. He finds a smile creeping across his face.

“What are you looking at?”

“You,” he answers honestly. Your lips twitch in amusement.

“Okay.” You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as the word slips out.

Taehyung doesn’t touch you. Not all morning.

His gaze continues to flicker over to you as you hike. He helps you haul equipment in the morning and is your shadow as you prepare lunch. He doesn’t touch you, at least, not until you ask him to help spread the sunscreen onto your shoulder blades and back. His fingers linger a moment too long as he slathers your back in just a little too much of the white paste, but then his touch is gone, snatched away as if he had remembered something.

After an adventure-filled morning and a late lunch, the others head out to scope out some new climbing spots, leaving you and Tae alone at the campsite.

“There’s only one left!” you call over your shoulder. You are bent over the cooler, the ice quickly melting underneath the summer sun. “And we better eat it soon before it melts!”

Taehyung waves. “Eh, you have it. I’m still full from lunch.”

You beam at him and grab the popsicle out of the cooler, unpeeling it and carefully climbing up the boulder to where Tae is sprawled on his back, overlooking the small lake where your friends have set up camp for the week. He makes room for you as you reach the top, patting the spot beside him.

“You sure you don’t want it?” you tease, waving it under his nose. You slide a little closer to him, and he pulls away slightly, leaving a friendly distance between you two.

“I’m sure.”

“Alrighty! More for me!”

He watches you bite down on the popsicle, your lips rounding perfectly around the tip of the dessert. What would it be like if those pink, plump lips were wrapped around his—What the hell is wrong with me? He shakes his head, as if by doing so he can physically dispel the obscene images swilling through his mind. He doesn’t want to think about these kinds of things. He doesn’t want to tread over that invisible barrier between friendship and… whatever lays on the other side of that, not when he’s entirely unsure of where you stand.

Still, he can behave.

He brings himself back to you, back to your words and the way you beam and glow underneath the summer sun. He loves the way you talk when you’re excited. When you detail your most recent passion, your eyes always seem to drift somewhere far away and your hands fly around animatedly. It’s contagious. As much as he’s falling into the world you describe to him, still, god, still, his eyes are drawn to your lips where a drop of melted popsicle has collected.

“You—you have—,”

He reaches out to wipe the pink juice from your lips and before he knows it, his thumb is pressed deliciously to the corner of your lips. You stop in the middle of your sentence, eyes widening up at him.

He glides his hand away from your slack mouth and before he can consider the consequences of his actions, pops the edge of his thumb into his own mouth, sucking off the drop of sweet juice. A red flush starts to creep up your cheeks.

“God, sorry.” He runs his hand through his hair, unable to look at you. “That was weird.”

Your next inhale seems oddly loud, and the two of you are both aware that you’re both holding your breath.

“Ah,” you finally giggle, breaking out of your shock. The blush still hangs heavy on your round cheeks. “No, it’s kind of sweet.”

He sends a tight smile your way but still won’t meet your eyes.

You desperately search for anything to say to him, to break the horrible silence hanging between the two of you.

“Haveyouever beenina friends with benefits relationship?” you spurt.

Oh no, you think. Not the right question. Nope. Not after all that.

The blush on your cheeks lights anew.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I have,” he responds slowly, looking over to your shocked state. He gives you a light shove, hoping you chill out. “Didn’t last long though.”

“Why not?”

Stop. Stop asking these questions.

Despite the anxiety that rises in you, he answers your question without hesitation.

“Ah, she couldn’t withstand my ethereal beauty and got attached,” he says dramatically before laughing light-heartedly. “Nah, actually it was more than that. We were young. Things got messy, fast.” He shrugs.

You nod sagely, as if you understand—despite never having stood in his shoes.

“What about you?” Taehyung's deep voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been in a friends with benefits relationship?”

“Ah—uh, no, not really.”

“Why’s that?”

“Never really came about.” You fiddle with the popsicle stick in your hands, using it to trace random patterns on your legs.

Taehyung follows the swirls you trace, entranced by the small white trail that follows the pressure of the wood before disappearing into the soft flesh of your thigh. Is this the way your skin reacted last night, under his fingers? He gulps and pulls his gaze back to yours.

“What?” you ask.

Let me trace those patterns for you, let me press those pretty lips to my own, let me see you wrap them around my—

You search the incomprehensible look in his eyes, as he’s still not answering you. He’s just… he’s just staring at you, mouth hanging slightly open and still, fucking gorgeous.

That night in the tent, sleep teases you. It hovers at the edge of your consciousness, pushed back by the swirling thoughts of the day.

You reach up to graze over the corner of your lips where Taehyung’s thumb rested not so long ago. When you close your eyes, you can almost feel that slight pressure and the distant heat of his touch.

You nuzzle into your pillow, attempting to focus on anything but that. Anything but him. Anything but the thought of him slipping his thumb into your mouth, hooking against your lips, his face nearing and lips slightly pouted—stop.

You are split in half between the fire burning in your abdomen—the one that tells you there’s something there, there’s something to explore between the two of you—and the coldness of the knowledge that you couldn’t handle his rejection. He’s too dear, he’s too precious—the thought of losing him, of messing things up, is greater than the thrill of having him.

“Are you awake?” a low whisper brushes against the nape of your neck. You start at the sensation.

“Mhmm.”

“Are you… okay? You seem tense.”

“‘M fine,” you mumble back.

Taehyung has always been able to read you though, his sharp eyes tracking your every movement and expression. Even with your back turned to him, he knows exactly the face you’re making with your shoulders pushed all the way up to your ears.

You’re hiding from something.

“Come ‘ere.”

His arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against his body. The smallest of gasps brushes past your lips.

“Just relax,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice now dangerously low because of the proximity. “Is this about yesterday?”

You say nothing.

“Did I disappoint you?”

“What?”

“I know it isn’t ideal to be put in a position to pick between your friends, especially for something so… intimate… and I know I’m not your ideal choice, but—”

“That’s not it,” you flatline. “Not it at all.”

The two of you are quiet.

“I don’t think you could ever disappoint me,” you say softly.

Oh, Taehyung thinks. OH.

“So you’re saying… you would like to—” Taehung grins against your neck.

“Never said that.”

“But you also didn’t, not say it either.”

When you don’t reply, he brings his hand up to trace along the thin line of skin between your raggedy t-shirt and shorts, chuckling as you jump at the touch.

“Shut up,” you hiss, more in response to what you know he’s thinking than what he’s just said.

Gotcha, he smirks. Just this little touch has raised goosebumps on your skin, despite the warmth of the tent. It all makes sense. Your tenseness, your silence, your wide gaze wasn’t that of confusion or discomfort—it was one of want. But why are you holding back from me?

“You know, when I said that it could be worse, I wasn’t lying. I could do a lot worse than you.”

“Go to sleep, Tae,” you say, but he can see the blush creeping up the side of your face.

“Are you sure you want me to?” His hand sneaks under the edge of your t-shirt, palm flattening against your side. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy this: Tae pressed so tightly against you, his hands wandering your body as if they belong there.

Your usual response is to pull away from this kind of pleasure. And you should. Especially from Taehyung: your friend, the cold voice in your head reprimands you.

But there’s a new voice alongside that one, the same one that whispers jump.

Something snaps in you.

You want this. There’s no denying that. You want his hands all over you, underneath your shirt, dipping underneath the band of your shorts. Wherever they go, you’ll follow.

You take a deep breath and release it, slowly. Closing your eyes, you slide your hand up your thigh until it rests atop his wrist. Without fully interlacing your fingers, you allow your fingers to slip between his, guiding his hand even further up.

He freezes.

“Tell me to stop,” you breathe, twisting your head back. It’s an invitation, an out—not an order.

He extracts his hand from yours to better trace intricate patterns against your flushing skin, knowing your face is flushing with the delicate attention. He draws his name on your skin.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you push your back against him. A small gasp slips out as you understand what’s resting against you: his hard cock.

You can feel his bulge press against your ass and when he moves to nudge away from you, you push your hips back, slowly trying to feel him against you again.

“Fuck,” he hisses when you roll your hips as if you’re readjusting. “Are you trying to kill me, woman?”

You feign innocence.

“What? What did I do?” you breathe, adding a beautifully executed note of concern to your voice. The thrill that rushes up your spine when his grip tightens around your arm makes it all worth it. “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

You wouldn’t necessarily consider this comfortable, your ass pressed against his quickly hardening cock. The warmth and comforting presence of his body wrapped around yours, yes, you would consider that comfortable. But the growing ache in the valley of your belly—there is nothing comfortable about that.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” you hum.

He nudges your hair away from your neck and breathes your name against your skin. “Before, I—,”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing but go the fuck to sleep,” Jin hisses from the other side of the tent.

You clasp your hand over your mouth, holding back your gasp of embarrassment. You can feel Tae shaking against your back, holding back laughter.

“Okay,” Tae whispers back to Jin.

His grip tightens around you and in the warmth of his arms, it’s not long before both of you are drifting off into sleep.

When you wake the sun has just started to peek above the horizon, casting a pink glow over the mountains. That crisp predawn chill still threads through the air, cutting through the thin lining of the tent and reddening your nose. But you’re surprisingly warm.

Tae is wrapped around you, but you don’t want to move. His warmth pulls you somewhere safe and secure. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you paints you in a glow that you can’t quite put a finger on. It’s effortless as you allow yourself to slip into it.

As your eyes grow heavy again, you reach down and wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging weakly.

“Tae, we should move,” you whisper. “The others…”

But he just tightens his grip and nuzzles your neck and soon your eyes are fluttering shut again, drawing you back to that easy, sweet place as you try—and fail—to write a mental note that quickly dissolves into sleep.

The next thing you know, your eyes are blinking open again, foggy with sleep. When they finally focus, you find dark, deep bunny eyes staring unwaveringly at you.

Jungkook. He’s got his head propped up on his elbow and he’s grinning at you.

“Shit,” you gasp, remembering where you. Who you are. You immediately try to untangle yourself from Tae. Since you were last awake, he’s nestled his nose into your neck and has somehow wrapped both of his arms around your torso, pulling you tightly against him. As you disentangle yourself from him, he groans and tries to pull you closer.

“Tae,” you hiss. “Let me go.”

Tae’s eyes finally pop open to find Jungkook staring at the pair with a frown on his face.

“y/n is such a cuddle whore.” He pouts. “Next time, come cuddle with me. I’m not a bony noodle-like Tae is. I do it better.” He winks.

“Fuck off,” Tae groans, flopping away from you and onto his back.

Today the group splits up.

Tae and Jungkook head off to hike while you, Jimin, and Jin split off from the rest to tackle some of the bouldering routes they scouted the day before.

This height feels different to you than that of the cliff. There’s a thrill in the ache of the challenge. You love the way you are entirely in your body as you scale the rock. In a way, it quiets the ricocheting thoughts of Tae, the spiraling sensation of his body wrapped around yours all night. You’re the last to pull yourself to the top and you quickly plop yourself in the center of the boys as they cheer you on.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Jin says, passing you a bottle of water as you sit atop the rock, looking down on a slope of evergreens. “What’s going on in that big, sexy brain of yours?”

You giggle at his phrasing. “Nothing much. Just stuck in my head a little.”

Jimin watches your expression carefully.

“Someone stuck in your head?” he asks slowly.

“No?” Jimin and Jin exchange glances, but say nothing. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you smile sheepishly.

For the rest of the day, you push yourself hard, scaling the routes faster than ever, faster than either Jin or Jimin.

By the time you all return to the campsite from your separate adventures, laughing, a little sunburnt, and covered in dirt, you’re ready for a distraction. It’s getting dark and your muscles ache from pushing just a little too hard. You’re tired. Tired of the stirring in your chest. Tired of trying to unravel Taehyung’s indecipherable stares while your heart flutters endlessly. Excessively.

After you all head down to the shore to wash up after the long day, you help Jin with dinner. He’s always had a special touch in the kitchen, and even with the limitations of the great outdoors he manages to transform the campfire griddle into a Michelin star kitchen. Gratefully, you accept his instructions to stick to washing and chopping vegetables while he absent-mindedly flutters about the make-shift kitchen stirring and tasting and measuring. To him, this kind of magic is second nature.

Dinner is exquisite, as anticipated. You groan obscenely when the stew he's thrown together hits your tongue.

"Jin, you've done it again."

The chef blushes heartily from the praise, always a sucker for compliments.

You lean over to Jin, who’s sitting right beside you to pat him on the shoulder—but when you look over at Taehyung across the fire, his spoon is frozen halfway between his bowl and his mouth, jaw hanging open. As your eyes meet, he collects himself and throws a wink your way. You quickly look back down to your bowl, spooning more of the soupy goodness into your mouth.

You finish the meal in silence, a sign of a good, long day. Or sprouting, unreadable confusion.

Once the bowls are empty and the food is cleaned up and put away you return to the fire where you slump in your camp chair. The sound of the gentle lapping of lake waves and crickets stringing their song in the chilled air fills your head. Brings you some semblance of peace.

A peace which is very quickly broken by Jimin sprinting out of the tent wearing only his swim trunks.

"We're going swimming!" he commands, pulling you out of your chair and shoving you towards the tent to change. You laugh, never one to turn down a dip in the water. "Give the lady some privacy and then I expect every single one of you in your swimsuits and splashing in that divine lake.”

“But—it’s night time?” Jin says.

“All the better,” Jimin replies.

You laugh, hearing Jin's protests and Jungkook's excited chatter. Your heart swells with affection for your beautiful friends. Even with this new, uncanny twist of luck with the introduction of butterflies around Tae, you still feel a hard edge rise in your chest when you think about risking the friendships that have so unwaveringly supported you all these years. These people are your heart. They comprise the unending list of delights and joys that pepper your life.

It's silly, truly, to risk that all for the tension between your legs. Or the thing fluttering in your chest.

You quickly change into your bathing suit and rush out of the tent to meet Jimin in the water. He grabs your hand as you step tentatively into the cold water.

"Shit, that's freezing," you hiss.

"It's better once you're all the way in," Jimin reassures, tugging you deeper into the sun-warmed water.

He's right. Once you've gone in deep enough to duck your head under the water, it feels as if a switch is flicked.

The water surrounds you—soft, warm, reassuring.

You've always felt most comfortable in the water. There was something about the way it lifted the tension out of your bones and soothed your mind, as if when you submerged yourself within it you became connected to something larger. Larger than just you, your individuality, your problems.

Even the burning tension in your stomach that rises at the mere thought of Taehyung seems soothed by the darkness of the lake. You take a deep breath and flop belly up to float on the surface, fascinated by the split in sensation between the sharp, arid air and soft, cradling water.

The rest of the group joins you in the water, floating and splashing around. Jungkook is the last to join you, waddling to the edge of the water will a full donut inner tube and floaties.

It’s easy to fall into them. Into their crack-head humor and constant energy and endless affection. And if it weren’t for Taehyung’s lingering gaze, you could almost imagine all the events of the past twenty-four hours never happened. That you hadn’t backed yourself against the edge of some unknowable cliff in your friendship by calling out his name, by letting him wrap himself around you last night, by letting his gaze linger like this, letting it put a fiery brush to your cheeks.

How quickly you would come undone for him.

You snap out of your thoughts only to find that your gaze has been rooted on him the whole time. And his on you.

He sends you a wink and you almost scream in frustration. As much as you want to wink back this unrooted, ungrounded worry eats at you.

“Think I can make it all the way to the other bank?” you blurt out, suddenly feeling the need to shake out the feelings that are building up in your body.

“I hope you’re not expecting us to join you,” Jimin said as he floats languidly on his back.

“Nope, just need to move. See ya on the other side.” You blow an eyebrow-raised Jin a kiss and push off into the water. The water gets a little colder as you swim further out, and the chill starts to numb you, pushing out those burning, disastrous thoughts that—

“Hey! Hold up! I’m coming!” you hear an all too lovely voice call out from behind you.

So much for an escape. Well, if he’s going to be this way, you might as well push it.

“I’ll race you!” you yell over your shoulder. You kick off into the dark water. Taehyung grins and swims after your quickly disappearing figure.

The wind has died down from earlier and there’s little resistance as you glide forward, paddling sleekly through the water. With the darkness of the night, the water looks like the darkest of inks before you, a darkness only broken by threads of glossy silver moonlight on the ripples of the surface. You could be paddling through a painting for all you know.

Unfortunately for you, the splashing from behind you is getting louder—and closer.

You throw all of your energy into your stroke, the fire of exertion burning through you, cleansing you. Just as you’re finally nearing the opposite shore, something slimy slides up your leg and wraps around your thigh.

You scream bloody murder.

You shake your leg frantically, trying to get whatever the hell it is that is trying to eat you off of your fucking leg. You continue to splash and kick—until your foot hits something hard. There’s a loud splash immediately behind you and then a sharp, “Fuck!”

You whirl around to see Taehyung, clutching his face, one hand still holding onto a long green and slimy lake plant.

“Oh no, no, no,” you quickly swim over to him, trying to pry his hands away from his face. “Tae, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!”

He peeks out between his hands, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

“Gotcha.”

He’s fine. Your jaw drops and your concern quickly morphs into anger as you beat against his bare chest with clenched fists.

“Kim Taehyung! How dare you scare me like that!”

“Ow, ow!” He groans as he tries to pull you to where the water is shallow enough to stand, wrestling you around in the process so that your back is pressed against his torso and he’s got his arms crossed over your chest, capturing your wrists in a makeshift straight jacket.

“You know I have an irrational fear of lake monsters and you fucking used it against me!”

“Chill! Hey… just chill.” Taehyung cackles despite trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry, but oh my god your scream! You would have thought someone was trying to murder you.”

“You, you were trying to murder me!” you snap, squirming against his hold.

He’s still laughing, his voice echoing loudly around the lake, his chest shaking against your back.

“Ah! Tae, let me go.” You try to wiggle out of his grasp by dropping your weight and swimming underneath his arms, but in the process untie the thin straps of your swim top.

You don’t even realize it until you’ve re-emerged from the water and the cold air hits your chest.

“Oh shit,” the two of you intone.

Taehyung stays cool but immediately averts his gaze and dives below the surface to retrieve your top. It seems like forever before he resurfaces, facing away from you, eyes squeezed shut for the sake of your privacy. He blindly holds out your swimsuit to you.

There’s a moment where you consider pulling his face towards you, asking him to open his eyes to you.

Instead, you mumble a hasty “Thanks,” and turn away to press the material to your chest and re-tie it. Your fingers fumble and you can’t quite keep the material from slipping down. “Ah, Tae?” you ask.

“Yes, darling?” The pet name glides so smoothly off his tongue.

“Can you help me tie this?” You hold the fabric to your chest as you look over your shoulder at him.

“‘Course.” He swims over to you and nimbly ties the strings around your neck and your back, pulling them just tight enough. His fingers linger just a second too long on that final knot. “There, all better,” he pats your shoulders and spins you back around so you’re facing him.

Once you’re facing him though, you both go quiet. He doesn’t take his hands from your waist.

Taehyung is struck by the way the moon seems to slip down your hair, glossy and heavy with lake water. Even your dripping features seem illuminated by the thin light, as if you had captured the night and held it somewhere deep inside you to radiate outwards.

Taehyung has always known you were beautiful. Always admired your strength and your passion and loved your slap-stick humor. But the way you were looking at him now, that same half-smile from earlier gracing your lip— this is a new kind of beauty. One that has nothing to do with the lighting or your features.

His gaze has been resting on your lips for a moment too long.

“Fuck it. Can I—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his.

For a moment you both melt into the sensation, allowing your bodies to relax against the other’s. And then his pillow-soft lips are moving against yours and everything seems to move into hyperdrive.

There is an unspoken urgency in your movements. You both press hard, desperate to release the building tension. But instead of allowing it to break and fall away from you, it seems that his lips against yours only adds to it.

He bites down on your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.

It takes an impossible amount of strength, but you are finally able to move your lips to his cheeks to mumble, softly, “Should we stop?”

He pulls away, searching your face.

“Are you asking me to stop?”

“N-no, I’m not.”

“Good.”

You gasp as he moves his lips to your neck, biting and sucking in the most delightfully painful way.

“But the others—?”

“They can’t even imagine it,” he repeats Jungkook’s words, an edge in his voice. “They’ll be none the wiser.” He loves the thrill of a challenge, of destroying someone’s expectations. But he loves the thrill of holding you here, alone, just his, even more.

“I don’t want to mess anything up,” you say softly, even as your hands come to tangle in his hair.

He pulls back from your neck and tips your chin up so that you’re looking directly at him. “Does this feel like messing up to you?”

You chew on your lip as you think over his question.

“No. It doesn’t. It feels like something else.”

“I agree.” His eyes spark with joy as he leans down to capture your lips again. He wraps his hands around your ass, lifting you just enough so that your legs come to wrap naturally around his waist. You gasp softly as you feel his hardened bulge press against your core.

Gently, you roll your hips against his length and he grunts. Pleasure spikes as the tip of his cock slides against your clit, the thin fabric between you leaving little to the imagination. Slowly, you continue to grind up against you, egged on by the small moans slipping out from him. Hands wrapping even tighter around you,

As he continues kissing you, his hands slide down your spine, tracing each dip and bump, before pressing into the gentle valley of your lower back. Your back arches against the gentle touch. He smirks against your lips, tucking tracing into his back pocket for later.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you mumble, trying to chase his lips. But he pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You like my cock sliding up against you? Is this what you were thinking about last night—while you were grinding with our friends sleeping right next to you?” You gasp as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Do you know how hard you left me, that gorgeous ass pressed up against me?”

“N-no,” you gasp as he thrusts against your folds again.

“I bet there’s a part of you that wanted them to wake up and see you like that, my cock between your ass cheeks.”

“No—not like that.”

“No?” he smirks as his hips circle against you, building that singing feeling in your cunt. “Would you have stopped me if I slid those shorts to the side and just--just slipped inside you?” When you don’t answer, he pulls back and waits. “Hm?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t have.” You pull his face back to yours, kissing him fervently as he continues to thrust against you. “I wanted—,”

From the shore, you can hear Jin calling your names and you freeze. His voice sounds so distant, even though he couldn’t be more than a couple hundred feet away. You ignore it and lean into the sensation of Tae’s chilled touch, twirling your fingers into the tangles of his dark hair and pulling him closer.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want—,” But then Jin’s voice is much closer. Too close. “Shit,” you whisper against Tae’s mouth, sighing.

You ignore the frown that spreads across his face and peel his hands from your body, pushing away from him. You’ve barely just broken apart when Jin comes into view. You paddle quickly towards Jin where he stands in the shallows, still dripping, with a towel and a flashlight. You wince when he shines it directly into your eyes.

“Thank Jesus!” Jin cries. “I thought you drowned! You can’t just scream and then disappear in the dark in the lake and expect me not to b—What the hell are you doing?” he asks, suspiciously eyeing your guilty faces.

“I, uh, we—,” you stumble over your words as you emerge from the water, wrapping your arms around your chilled torso.

“YN lost her top. I was just helping her find it,” Tae flatlined.

“Ah, how very gentlemanly of you,” Jin narrows his eyes at Tae. Jin had always been protective of you, but it felt strange to have his protectiveness directed at one of the members of your own friend group.

Nonetheless, Jin wraps the towel around you and carefully escorts you back to the camp, leaving Tae slack-jawed and covering an unfortunate boner in the shallows.

tag list: @dontaskshhhhh @myimaginationsrunningwild @taehyoungmoney @taffyteffy @london-dreamer71 @satoujk @spicykoreantatertots

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spiderman-homecomeme · 3 years

Photo

as long as you love me so (let it snow)

🎄The Twelve Days of Promptmas🎄 - Day One

concepts: fireplace cuddles, snowball fight

dialogue: “Why are you staring at me?” “Nothing... You just look really cute right now.”

for @forasecondtherewedwon <3 thank you for the request and for your friendship ily

❆❆❆

There are two things that Peter loves about winter.

One, being the satisfying crunch of fresh snow under his feet as he walks around the park on a chilly night.

And two, being MJ.

Holding MJ's gloved hand as they walk together, swinging their arms between them leisurely as he points to lights in the trees.

The snowflakes that land on MJ's hair, her face, the tip of her nose; watching her blink as they dust over her eyelashes.

Seeing the peace in her eyes as she looks up to the sky, catching the falling snow with her tongue when she thinks he's not looking. He swears she sparkles more than the snow itself.

Hearing her happy hum as she sidles up beside him, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close, her touch being all that he needs as the temperatures drop.

But his favorite thing of all is kissing her in the snow, her lips warm and soft as the fluffy flakes fall around them.

The chilly weather seems to bring out a side of her that he always loves to see—though, let it be known that he loves to see all sides of her. Michelle in any light is beautiful and perfect. There's a spark of something in her, something mischievous, more daring.

And it comes out now, as they stop on top of the bridge to take in the beauty of this bridge in winter, a good two inches of snow covering the stone railing. Peter's not sure what's more breathtaking—the sea of pretty white lights before them, the hushed blanket that’s fallen over the world as busy as New York City, or MJ surrounded by glistening snow.

There’s a clear winner.

MJ finally catches him staring, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she leans in. Peter's eyes drift closed, his body naturally moving to meet her. He's almost too lost in the warmth of her gloved hand on his cheek, too lost in the way her mouth ghosts over his, her warm breath fanning his face, how he can almost taste the peppermint from her tea—

Too lost to notice the snowball she's packed being smushed against his head.

“HEY!”

Her laugh is bright, a merry sound, one that has his heart doing cartwheels. The way she covers her face with her gloved hand, quickly jumping out of his reach and away; it makes his face warm despite the burning cold on his ear and neck, a pleasant ache in his cheeks from how wide he’s smiling.

“What the hell?” He asks, brushing the snow from his curls, his lips twisting into a pout as he tries to hold back his own laughter.

MJ flashes another smile, and his chest swells at the way her tooth pokes through. But she doesn’t say anything else, sticking her tongue out before bending down to gather more snow.

Two can certainly play at that game.

Peter’s almost faster, lunging forward, packing snow from the railing into a solid ball. But he’s not fast enough, almost immediately, feeling one hit his shoulder, bursting into a white powder, and he hears a peel of giggles from his girlfriend as she starts to run away.

And he chases her, the two of them throwing snowball after snowball, until once, when Peter seems to miscalculate how hard he’s actually throwing them, and chucks one right into the side of her face.

“Fuck!”

“Oh, shit—” Peter freezes, watching as she falls, clutching her cheek, before bolting to her. He kneels down, a hand on her back. “MJ, baby. I’m so sorry. Oh my God! Are you okay?”

She’s shaking—with what he assumes to be tears of pain—when she just burrows further into her hand, the other bracing herself on the cold ground.

“MJ. Babe. Are you okay?”

And it’s then, when her eyes flash to his, narrowed playfully, a knot twisting in his stomach when he realizes that she’s laughing. In an instant, she’s shoving more snow into his face, nearly tripping on her feet as she scrambles away. She’s cackling as she runs from him, as he chases her, breathless as he tackles her to the ground, pinning her down.

“Wait! No! Peter! I’m sorry!—” She manages between laughs, squirming as his gloved hands pinch her sides through her fluffy coat.

“Not cool!” He says, unable to keep himself from laughing along. “That was mean! I thought you were hurt!”

“To be fair, you were throwing those snowballs a little harder than necessary. I had to teach you a lesson.”

“You started it!”

Her lips twist into a barely-contained frown, a sad attempt at nonchalance. “I don’t recall.”

And he kisses her, unable to keep himself from grinning as his lips capture hers, unable to suppress the chuckle bubbling up from his chest when she pushes more snow into his hair.

“I think it’s time to go home,” he says, pulling away from the kiss, her face glowing as she looks up at him doing more than his coat ever could.

She shivers as she stands to her feet, her smile unfaltering as he wraps an arm around her.

They walk home, their step swaying in perfect time with one another.

It’s truly one of his favorite times of year to spend with MJ—besides all of them. Even in the bitter cold, in the white-out blizzards and crackling ice; none of that matters. There’s a lightheartedness in the air, a joy in the peace and quiet that he can’t quite place.

Their warmth of their apartment is welcoming, though in all honesty, Peter can’t quite tell the difference, especially with MJ’s hand in his.

“I’ll get the cocoa, you get the fire?” Peter asks, planting a soft kiss to her temple.

“You got it, dude,” she replies, punctuating her statement with a chlick, complete with a wink and a wave of finger-guns.

He laughs, fondly shaking his head as he makes for the kitchen.

When he returns, two hot mugs in his hands, she’s sat in front of the fireplace, socked feet sticking out in front of her, a deep red fuzzy blanket draped over her shoulders. She pulls it tighter around her, further cocooning herself in the warmth.

It’s when she looks back that he realizes he’s staring again. He simply smiles, exhaling softly.

“What?” She asks, squinting at him. “Why are you staring at me?”

Though, she already knows the answer.

“Nothing…” Peter replies, his voice just above a murmur. “You just look really cute right now.”

A small, somewhat bashful—a word he’d never use aloud—smile tugs at her lips as she looks down at her lap. He sits next to her, passing her hot chocolate covered in tiny marshmallows over carefully. She opens up her blanket, inviting him to snuggle in.

“Only right now?” She asks after they each take a sip.

He snorts lightly, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to hold himself together.

“Not like… Earlier? This morning? Everyday?”

When he finally stops laughing, he looks at her, so close he can feel and see the warmth from the fire reflecting off of her eyes. And he kisses her again, unable to help himself as he trails his lips to her cheek, her forehead, the tip of her nose—where the snowflakes had touched just ten minutes before.

“Everyday,” he says.

#spideychelle #petermj #petermjane #peter x mj #peter parker x michelle jones #promptmas #promptmas 2k20 #day one

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spaceschild · 2 years

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Female reader x Chrom: You want fries with that????

It was the start of my shift, and my morning had already been absolute hell on earth. The car wouldn’t start, it was freezing out and Chrom had already left for his super important meeting, that apparently was so important he didn’t have time to drive me there and missed my face when he went to kiss me. Awkward. So I walked, and slipped in the ice, on my butt in the parking lot. A family saw me. Way to go Y/n!!! Yayyyyy..

And that’s not even the worst of it! This terrible lady and her three crotch gremlins came in. The mom had one of those “let me speak to the manager hair cuts”, and a strut that even ghost rider was afraid to put out. Her little kids were being very behaved, until the moment of truth.

“Hi Miss welcome to Wendy’s!!!!" I put on my cheerful face, hoping that I was just being too harsh.

"Hi! Can I get... A number 3, a number 2 and two kids meals please?" So far so good. I sighed a sigh of relief. Thank god!

"Can I get two burgers and some fries please? Thank you!" I called to the back, giving Sumia thumbs up.

"that'll be 13.20, please!" And I was paid truthfully. She seems fine! Maybe not all of them were bad. They smiled and went to their table. That's when I started to drift off into my own little world.

I wonder where chrom was right about now. Work? Home? I missed his eyes.. The way they felt like a warm beach in the summer, all calm and collected. There was nothing that could ruin that day. The day on the beach just laying in the sun with him.. It would be heaven. His laugh was the opposite of that. It was spring's rain and the laughter of playing in it. It was feeling the warm weather start to occupy the cold spaces and leave kisses all over the world. On your skin, on the ground as the flowers bloomed. It was perfect. His embrace like a warm fire in winter, when you celebrate Christmas, and you're sitting there thinking as a new beginning is in sight. He's just perfect. All of him is mine. My world.

I was brought out of it by the screaming.

"Hello?! Are you even listening to me?! My son doesn't want this toy! I want a different one or a refund!"

But before I could respond, our manager walked out to see what was going on. He just stared daggers into me as he gave the witch what he wanted, and I felt myself tense up and hit break time. As I did I felt tears well up on my face, they fell to the floor as if they contained parts of my self worth and esteem, shattering them as they hit the ground. I found myself crying. I would have quit.. If I didn't feel those warm arms around me, holding me as I cried into him.

"It's okay love. I've got you. I promise. Let it out."

"W-what.. What are you doing here?" I asked through sobs, clutching his shirt tight.

"I finished early.. And felt bad about this morning so I came bearing gifts milady!"

What he held, was flowers, chocolates and a very, very poorly written card with SORRY! Written all over it in crayon. He tried. I laughed, feeling those pieces of my broken heart come together, as one. Chrom smiled at me and kissed my hand.

"Such a gentleman!"

"This gentleman has secured with a reservation at your favorite restaurant, Mademoiselle! Not.. This dump."

"You're the absolute best! I love you! Thank you so much. I'll see you when I get off of work! I love you, Chrom. Thank you." I kissed him sweetly before cleaning myself up and heading back to work.

He really was the wind in my back, the sword at my side, and I've have built a peaceful world. Just me and him.

I am so sorry this sucks. Not my best work of art or even mediocre bc my self doubt told me no but I tried anyways. Hope you like it! @feazeldagamer2247

#inspiration #fire embem awakening #my writing #im sorry

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 3 years

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How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam 3/?

Chapter 3: Moments Long Remembered

read it on AO3 here | from the beginning

chapter 1 | chapter 2

story summary: Princess Emma isn't the princess of much anymore. It's been months since her parents and brother were taken, and she's been on the run with her godmother Red. When Emma and Red board a merchant vessel to sail to Arendelle, Emma quickly finds that the captain is not to be trusted. After helping two slave brothers, Emma takes over the ship and begins her journey to save and rebuild her kingdom.

what's in store for chapter three? New characters (not new new, but new to this particular world)! Some background! Pining & tension!

thank you all for reading and staying with me even when I am too busy (just for this one week and a half time period) to post on schedule

Moments Long Remembered

On the worst day of her life, Princess Emma rode out far beyond the castle walls. She was alone, as she preferred solitary rides on her trusted horse, and the cold air was nothing to her as she raced through the snow covered forest. For a few hours each day, she got to feel entirely free. All responsibilities could wait, every forced smile was just a distant memory. She had no one to try to impress, no one who expected anything from her, no one who needed her to be someone she was not.

It wasn’t the excursion, nor the weather, nor the steed that made this day so horrible. Rather, it was the enemy who had breached the castle walls in her absence.

The most poignant part of this particular memory, for her, were the moments directly before she was made aware of the events inside the castle. She was at ease, content, blissfully happy and oblivious to the screams that tore through the halls she called home. She wasn’t worrying about her parents when they were stolen and taken far out of her reach. She didn’t consider her brother, her little lion cub, as he was yanked from the joy he knew and shown the truths of the world she’d wished he’d never have to learn.

Her happiness was shattered when the Evil Queen appeared before her, the black gown cutting across the crisp white snow in her path. Terror as she’d never known it dropped into her stomach as her hands gripped the reins and her horse skidded to a stop, and the fear that sliced down her spine was colder than the shards of ice that hung from each tree branch.

The Evil Queen’s mouth was curled into a wicked smile, white teeth framed by the wine color of her lips as she moved them to speak.

“Emma.”

But it was not the Evil Queen who stood in front of her now and called her name. It was her most trusted friend, her ally, her godmother, Red. The memory, as vivid as if it had only just happened, dissolved into nothing, sizzling in the early summer air as Emma blinked it away.

“Yes?”

“Liam and I are leaving,” Red told her, “I doubt we’ll be gone more than a few hours.”

Emma could’ve counted on one hand the number of times that she’d been separated from Red in the last months, and no matter how irrational it was, she couldn’t stop her muscles from tensing as if bracing for pain. But they needed some new crew, and Red was more than capable of the job.

“Good, good,” Emma said absently. She wished she had something more intelligent to say, but her mind was still fixated on moments long gone. “I’ll be here,” she added.

“Yes,” Red grinned, “you and Killian.” She didn’t give Emma time to inquire after the tone she’d used before Red turned and called, “Liam!”

Liam stood across the deck in conference with John Terry, but at the call of his name, he excused himself from his fellow sailor and joined Red and Emma where they waited by the gangplank.

“We shall return shortly,” Liam promised his captain. “I hope Killian won’t give you too much trouble,” he added in good humor.

“We’ll be just fine,” Emma told him. The trouble Killian Jones gave her was of a different nature, and she wasn’t about to disclose those particulars to his older brother.

Emma watched Liam and Red until they disappeared into the crowd past the docks, forcing her thoughts from straying to the fear that was an ever-present buzz in her blood. Instead, she planted herself on the steps leading up to the quarterdeck, her mind occupying itself with whatever it could latch onto.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Killian appeared from below, offering Terry a few words as he passed on his way towards her.

“Swan!” he called, and her eyes immediately met his. He’d called her that three times that morning, and it hadn’t seemed unusual once. But perhaps that had less to do with the moniker and more to do with who had said it.

Killian dropped onto a step below hers, a gentle and genuine smile spreading across his lips. “Terry’s gathering his group and then they’ll be off,” he told her. “I double checked the list with the storeroom, and it seems that everything’s in order.”

“Perfect,” she replied, willing a coherent sentence to present itself as she looked away from his striking eyes.

“Tell me, Swan,” he began, his voice low, “do you always dress in a layer of knives, or do you save that for special occasions?”

She laughed, and it made her realize how long it had been since that had happened. Her head thrown back like that, the bounding joy in her chest—weeks, at least. Probably months, probably before that morning ride that featured the Evil Queen.

Emma leaned back a little, her hand going to the edge of the vest to pull out a blade and pass it to him. “Eight in total, four on each side,” she explained. “And yes, I’ve fixed every garment I have with some sort of weapons holder.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot up, glancing up at her from the knife he had been examining. “Isn’t that dangerous? How have you not injured yourself?”

“Not any more dangerous than being unarmed and running into some Black Knights,” she said with a shrug, glancing away to avoid his concerned gaze. “But each blade has a metal casing. That’s what keeps it from hurting me or tearing the fabric, and it snaps into place to stop it from falling out.”

His dark brows furrowed, his eyes flitting from the knife to where she’d pulled it from. “The casing, is it tricky?” he wondered. “Does it get stuck?”

“Only when I forget to clean them,” she replied. Without pausing to consider what she was doing, she reached for his free hand. “Here, try it,” she said, guiding his fingers to the spot on the other side of her vest.

Killian moved slowly, hesitantly, but he allowed her to line his fingertips against the hidden pocket. His eyes locked with hers, and that familiar tug and snapping of electricity surged between them.

“Just, um, push up a little until you feel a click, and then it’ll slide out,” she explained, slightly breathless despite the fact that she’d been sitting for several minutes.

His gaze didn’t stray from hers as he followed her directions, the thin handle of the blade dropping into his hand. She could feel his body heat like this, his hand against her waist, and it seemed like he was both too close and not close enough.

“Captain?”

Emma and Killian broke apart at the sound of Terry’s voice. She stood, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen out of place. “Yes?” she asked, glancing quickly at Killian who had returned to an upright position and was currently examining the two blades closely. The tips of his ears were red.

Terry smiled, and Emma pretended not to notice anything but politeness in it. “With your leave, Captain, we’re off.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied, looking between him and the several crew members gathered a few feet behind. “I look forward to receiving your report upon your return.” It was best that she maintained the pretense of captain with the crew, according to Red. Something about safety or respect or concealing her identity from newcomers. She could hardly remember now.

Emma waited until they were out of sight before returning to her previous position, and Killian had recovered enough that the blush had even faded from his cheeks when he looked at her. He passed her the knives without a word.

He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to hers rather than where her fingers secured the blades. “You mentioned Black Knights,” he said, “have you fought many of them?”

It wasn’t that surprising of a question, honestly, given that she’d mentioned them off-handedly before. She just couldn’t figure out why she had mentioned it in the first place. Perhaps it was the same reason she showed him how her vest worked.

“Can you define ‘many’?” she asked, her voice calm and soft and not at all befitting the subject.

Killian’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening to restrain some emotion she couldn’t place. “It’s been…months,” he murmured. “You’ve been fighting them all this time?”

“Fighting them, running from them, gathering information from them,” Emma answered. “Until I figured out that she was tracking me with magic, at least.”

“What did you do?”

“Red got her hands on some potion,” she said, trying for a smile that ended up a little sad. “So that’s why we’re here now. And that’s why there’s not a single Black Knight searching this port.”

Killian was quiet for a moment, and it wasn’t until his jaw released its tension that he spoke. “What information?”

“At first, we tried to get them to tell us where my family was, but they’re not particularly talkative,” she explained, hoping she sounded more unaffected than she felt. “Eventually, we started following them, finding their camps. We spent weeks combing the forest, tracking their movements, and making maps of their locations.”

“Did you find them?”

The ghost of a smile on her lips was revealing. “We discovered where she’s holding my father. It’s remote, not to mention protected by battalions of Black Knights. Red and I are good, but we’re not that good.”

“That’s where Arendelle comes in,” he concluded. “You’re hoping they’ll help you to free him with magic.”

She sighed, her eyes trailing away from him and fixing themselves on the gangplank. “That’s our hope,” she said. “If I can get to my father, he’ll be able to find my mother. And I have no doubt they’ll make quick work of locating Leo.”

“You and your brother,” Killian continued after a moment, “are you close?”

The question was enough to bring happier, lighter memories to the forefront of her mind. “Very,” Emma replied. “He’s like light personified. Always overly enthusiastic, always making me laugh. But he’s driven, too. Spends all day in the practice yard unless I convince him to do something else.”

“He’s probably just trying to keep up with his sister,” Killian said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Maybe,” she allowed. But thinking about her brother fighting made her think about her brother losing, and then the guilt that had lived in her chest since that day slammed against her heart. “I wish I’d been there to protect him when he really needed me,” she confessed, and the words were almost shocking for her to hear. She’d thought about it again and again, but never had she voiced it, as if keeping it to herself made it less real.

“What happened, exactly?” Killian asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” he added quickly.

“I used to go for a ride every morning,” she began, “and that morning was no different. Until the Evil Queen showed up and outlined her perfect plan to destroy my family one curse at a time.”

“She cursed all of you?”

“No,” Emma replied, a bitter laugh on her lips, “not me. Because the knowledge that my family is slowly dying while I am powerless to stop it…that’s a curse in its own right.”

“Swan,” Killian breathed, and the emotion in his voice was overwhelming. “I don’t pretend to know the specifics of the Evil Queen’s magic, but you must know that it wasn’t your fault. If your parents, your brother, your numerous castle guards couldn’t stop her, why do you think you’re to blame?”

He paused, shaking his head as he gathered his thoughts. “I have no doubt that you will defeat her, love, but it’s not only your combat skills that are going to take her down.”

Killian believed in her. She’d known it since the very beginning, but her doubt had been strong enough to convince her it was a misled belief. But now, with his head bent in reverence and his startling eyes that wouldn’t waver from hers, she had no choice but to accept his words as truth.

The guilt and the doubt didn’t evaporate into nothing, but their power over her waned.

Emma nodded—acknowledgement, gratitude, something else, she wasn’t sure—and they ventured into safer, less dramatic topics that allowed for a lighter atmosphere to settle over them.

Watching the ship, as it turned out, was not the most interesting job. There was very little for them to do except wait for the others to return, though Emma was relieved for something unexciting for a change. She needed the respite much more than she’d realized, and though the absence of constant panic was almost jarring enough to cause panic itself, she convinced herself that she was secure for the afternoon.

The first interruption to her temporary peace came when a figure appeared on the dock a few steps from the gangplank. Killian and Emma stood, their hands reaching for their swords in a synchronized motion that made the stranger chuckle softly.

“Exactly as Red described,” the woman said, pushing her hood back to reveal a heart-shaped face and blonde hair that was piled atop her head. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” she asked, looking expectantly at Emma.

Emma relaxed at the mention of her godmother, but she did not alter her posture to show it. She nodded sharply, and Killian stepped forward to put himself between her and the stranger. The action wasn’t shocking or offensive to Emma’s pride; instead, it asserted the rank she held and the loyalty of those who followed her.

The woman was petite, but she moved with the surety of someone who had seen hardship and battle. “They call me Tink,” she informed them once she’d boarded. “I was told I could find you here.”

It took everything in Emma’s power not to revert to her diplomatic training. She could not smile politely, could not offer refreshments or entertainment. Here, she had to appear coarse and immoveable like the captain she was supposed to be, at least until they knew Tink could be trusted.

Killian, following her lead as always, did not falter to play his part. “What is your business here?”

“Friends of yours—Red and Liam—told me you’re looking for a few additions to your crew. I’d like to offer my services,” Tink said, unshaken by their front.

“Why?” Emma asked, and her gut pinched at the rude tone in her voice.

A smile spread across Tink’s face as she paused before speaking. “Well, they’d hardly tell me, would they?” She laughed at her own joke, and then continued, “But they seemed significantly more interested once they learned about my dislike for the Evil Queen, so I suspect that’s got something to do with it.”

“You have a personal vendetta?” Killian asked, though it didn’t quite seem like that much of a question.

Tink’s arms folded across her chest, the smile disappearing from her lips. “I’m an ex-fairy,” she replied, “and let’s just say that before I met Regina, I was not an ex-fairy.”

“And now you’re looking for revenge,” Killian offered.

“Justice,” Tink corrected. “But yes, I’d like to help in the fight against her.”

Emma glanced at Killian just as he was turning back to her, and their eyes locked for a moment. Had Red and Liam been there to witness the silent conversation that passed, there would have been a hushed discussion between them later. Without them there, the only acknowledgement of the event was Tink who smiled to herself.

“Joining this crew would guarantee a death at her hand if we’re caught,” Emma warned, her demeanor nearly returning to normal with Tink’s objective revealed.

Tink cocked her head slightly, her wide eyes studying Emma with a level of perception neither she nor Killian could comprehend. “You’re not just a captain, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re someone special,” Tink added, “I may not be a fairy anymore, but I can still feel it. Who are you?”

At this question, Killian tensed, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Once he’d determined that there was no one close enough to become a threat, he looked back at Emma, another silent inquiry.

Emma moved, a hand on his shoulder to calm him as she passed, and when she stood directly in front of Tink, she almost felt like the princess she hadn’t been in months.

“My name is Emma, and I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”

The shock on Tink’s face was less than Emma had anticipated, but the grin that replaced it eased her worries. “I knew you weren’t just running,” she said, “and I would be honored to join you in saving your kingdom and your family. Beating Regina is simply a bonus.”

Emma offered her hand to shake, and Tink accepted both the gesture and the wordless accord that came with it. “Welcome aboard,” Emma said.

Emma returned above deck from checking the storeroom with Terry, finding Killian speaking with Tink and the other sailor who had been sent by Red and Liam before the suppliers had made their way back.

August Booth was a man who could be charming when he wished to be, but the scowl that had overtaken his expression upon the mention of the Evil Queen left Emma with no doubt of his loyalty. He asked fewer questions than Tink, but his curious eyes were revealing to anyone who cared to look.

To any passing observer, Killian looked relaxed as he stood before the two crew members. His shoulders were back, his left hand resting casually against the hilt of his sword. But Emma could tell by the angle of his neck that he was watching the pier for unexpected visitors, and the set of his feet prepared him for a fight.

“It’s definitely a step up from the last ship I sailed on,” Tink said, her nose wrinkling at a distasteful memory.

“I’m afraid my sailing experience is limited to what I’ve learned in the last few months,” August said with a glance towards Killian, “but I’ve been told that I’m a fast learner, so I hope the captain won’t throw me off at the next port.”

Killian chuckled, “So long as you follow orders, you’ll be fine.”

Emma was pleased to find that Killian had warmed somewhat to August, as he’d been uncharacteristically sharp upon meeting him. While Emma had eased into the topic of the Evil Queen, Killian had been skeptical and quick to determine August’s exact beliefs regarding Emma’s family. August’s father had been murdered when Regina had torn apart the village outside the castle, and though Emma read his grief and anger as nothing threatening to her, Killian had bluntly asked if August found the former king and queen at fault in the tragedy.

Now she leaned casually against the mainmast, neither announcing herself nor bothering to hide to effectively eavesdrop as she watched the group while they talked.

“I’ve heard that the princess is quite the fighter,” August added, studying Killian carefully as he spoke.

It was not the sun that brought red to Killian’s cheeks and to the tips of his ears. “Aye, I have yet to see her equal,” he admitted, making no attempt to mask the pride in his voice.

“Do you suppose she’d agree to a demonstration later?” Tink wondered.

“We could prove our worth with a sword,” August offered, grinning at the prospect.

“You’d have to ask her yourself,” Killian replied. “I’d be happy to spar with you both if you’d like. I don’t pretend to be as skilled as the princess, but I can manage well enough.”

Before Emma could interrupt to agree to the demonstration, a creak of the wood and a flash of movement from the corner of her eye brought her attention away from them. Her defensive instincts sputtered when she recognized Red and Liam, though the third person to step onto the gangplank was a stranger to her.

Killian reacted as she’d expected him to, turning away from Tink and August to meet his brother. They exchanged a nod that held unspoken words, and when Killian stood before the potential crew member, his body language conveyed his reserve. Tink and August fell back, acknowledging Red and Liam without moving towards the man.

“This is Will Scarlet,” Red announced, not meeting Emma’s gaze though she was aware of her presence.

Will Scarlet had no scabbard to hold his sword, but rather a knife that was secured in a leather casing along his belt. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his gaze traveling from each person until it settled on Emma, and she had a feeling that he knew more than he should’ve with a single glance. It was the kind of thing that one learned when forced to, the ability to read a person’s intentions by their movements and everything they did not say.

“I suppose you’re the captain,” he said, causing every eye to shoot towards her. His tone was casual, unaffected, but there was a gravity in his posture that revealed something much more intense.

Emma nodded slowly, but she didn’t move from her position as she leaned against the mast. Her gaze drifted from Will to Killian in a flicker, but she focused back on the stranger before a second had passed.

“I hope our choices have been acceptable thus far, Captain,” Liam said, more a question than a statement. The tone was unfitting of the camaraderie they’d achieved, maintaining the pretense of rank in front of Will.

“Indeed,” Emma replied. She paused, testing the bounds of their attentiveness and therefore respect. No one moved, no one breathed, all waiting for her to speak as they knew she would. There were many differences between acting as a captain and acting as a princess, but commanding the attention of a room, or a deck, was a similarity.

“I was about to consent to a sparring exercise—a demonstration, if you will—for our new recruits when you arrived,” she continued. When her eyes landed on Will, she made a show of studying him. “I assume that you carry no sword because you have no need of one,” she added.

The corners of his lips twitched, his hand patting the leather case that held his knife. “They’re a waste of metal, if you ask me,” he told her, “I prefer to keep things simple.”

She hummed, gauging his expression to determine if he boasted a skill level that he did not possess. “And you believe that you deserve a place on this ship?” she asked, pushing his temper, his pride, to see if she could find a weak spot.

“What I do or do not deserve isn’t important, is it?” he replied, a grumbling sound that came from his throat that revealed either a mild irritation or anger directed towards a third party. “The way I see it, it’s what the Evil Queen deserves that really matters,” he nearly spat, though there was no lack of control in his voice.

Emma, though she couldn’t admit it without first determining Will’s loyalty, was impressed. His eyes burned with a familiar enduring rage that she had seen each time she’d looked in the mirror.

“I’m guessing you’re aware of the risks you’d be taking should you join us?” Emma asked, measuring each shift in his expression for anything alarming.

“I’d hardly be here if I couldn’t face the consequences,” Will said. “And you’re not the first crusade against the Evil Queen that I’ve joined, although Red seems to think you’d give me a better chance than that lot ever did.”

“We beat her or we die trying,” Emma told him as she pushed herself off the mast and moved a few steps towards him, all the ferocity she’d been attempting to hide away behind the sadness and the guilt leaking out in her voice. “Are you ready for that?”

Will grinned, his eyes darkening. “You can count on it, Captain.”

Emma didn’t wait more than a moment before she turned to face the others. “Red, fill him in. Liam, make sure Terry’s ready to set sail and get us going. I want us in the wind before sunset, and we’ve got a prisoner to hand over before we can leave,” she ordered, though her tone had dropped the unforgiving command as she surrendered her facade. “Killian, show our newest allies to their quarters once Scarlet has been briefed, and then I’d like you and your brother to join me in escorting Silver off this ship.”

No one hesitated to obey the second she finished speaking, and though Killian lingered to hold her gaze for a long moment, he said nothing. Emma could not regret this, because there was no lack of communication in his sparkling eyes.

Violence had always been a part of her life. It was a byproduct of her existence, a necessity, a simple truth. But before her last ride from the castle, she had never considered herself a violent person. True violence was always accompanied with a driving force beyond rationality, perhaps a hatred, a passionate fury, or bloodlust. Those particular feelings did not promote impartiality or decorum, and they had certainly never been a part of her training. But as Emma walked behind the Jones brothers, watching Silver stumble and fight against his restraints and the firm hands of Killian and Liam, she felt at least two of those three feelings.

He hadn’t come quietly, neither physically nor verbally passive, and the bit of cloth preventing him from speaking had been a necessary addition. He had swung at her and at the brothers, he had tried to kick and scratch at them before the rope had limited his movements, but none of that had affected her the way his words had.

It was not his insults towards her that had stirred the violent feelings she felt now, but rather it was his cutting remarks aimed at Liam and Killian that had led to the swelling cheek he now brandished.

She had known cruelty—hell, she had looked it in the eye and watched its wine-colored lips smile at her—but she had never known it quite like this. Because Silver held no power. He would hang, he would die, he would never be seen by any of them again, and yet he still attempted to slice at the brothers and prod every wound he believed they had. He was a desperate man, she knew. He was a coward. He was a fool.

Silver was defenseless, hopeless, powerless, and yet Emma still wished to draw her sword and cut him the way he’d tried to cut the Jones brothers.

Her hand curled around the hilt of her sword, her grip so tight that it nearly hurt her to hold it. She focused on her steps rather than the anger that swirled in her chest, the hatred that shuddered in her stomach and traveled up to her shoulders and made them tremble as she restrained herself.

Liam spoke quickly and efficiently with the jailor when they arrived, and Emma kept herself three paces behind them to prevent her violence from pushing her to interfere. There were a few formalities that took some time to sort out, some documents to sign verifying witnesses, and the only thing that held Emma back was the look on Killian’s face.

It didn’t lack the anger she felt, but his was the expression of a man resolved. He accepted Silver’s fate and wished for nothing more. His fists did not clench in preparation of beating him, his lips did not part to issue his sentence or even a parting taunt that bragged of flipped roles or lost and gained freedom. If Killian could watch the man who had carved lines into his back with near equanimity, what right did she have to act on her desires?

She signed her name Emma Swan, gave Silver one last pointed glare, and then she led the brothers back towards their ship, eager to put as much distance as possible between them and this port.

#How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #once upon a time #ouat #ouat fanfic #cs fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #chapter 3 #cs ff

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sol-tinyrayofsun · 4 years

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Zutara Week Day 5 - Hesitancy: What Am I To Say?

Alright, this was actually the first thing I wrote for Zutara Week. It’s angsty as hell, but with a nice ending. I love fluff but angst just gets me every time. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy it as much as I do. As ever, thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated! <3

Also on AO3!

Title: What Am I To Say?

Rating: G

Summary: “Choices, Katara,” he continued to say, noticing her silence. “It’s all about choices.” Zuko was telling the truth. She had unfortunately made sure to push him away five years ago. One stupid decision that had shattered every last bit of her existence. Even worse, it had also damaged many others. On a split second, all those moons ago, Katara had managed to secure heartache for them both.

------

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since the last time she had properly faced him. Their last conversation dated from months ago. And what a dull chat had it been. The frigidity caused by a choice she had made five years ago had ultimately marked the fallout of their relationship. But everything was different now. She knew he was aware of it. Still, she felt hesitant. The idea of owning up her mistakes to him terrified her. Maybe focusing strictly on the reason why she had been summoned there would be her best bet.

Katara descended from the carriage that had brought her all the way to the gates of the Fire Nation Royal Palace. The humid weather took her by surprise. She had gotten too used to the cold air of the South Pole. After all, the last few months had found her recluded to her duties within the Southern Water Tribe. Her family had unsuccessfully tried to get her to go out into the world on multiple occasions. Nothing had worked, she just wanted to figure out things by herself for a while.

Still, there she was. Back to where their undoing had started. She shook her head as she tried to put on her brightest smile. Lifting up her sight from the concrete courtyard ground, his golden eyes met hers. This was it. The moment she had dreaded for more than a week. She felt her heart skipping a beat. It was him.

“Master Katara.” His voice was raspy, sharp. “A pleasure to see you again. May I ask how was your trip?” He extended his hand to her.

There it was. That ice-cold attitude. It killed her, destroyed her to the very core. She wanted to scream, to make him drop his ridiculous act. Really, after all we have gone through? When are you going to stop shutting me down? she thought as she remembered an answer was expected from her. Right, diplomacy. What a tricky little thing.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” she greeted him as she took his hand. That simple touch was enough to make her whole body flinch. “The trip was fine, thanks. I assume the rest of the delegates have arrived already.”

Both of them dropped their hands. She hated every second of that awkward and impersonal interaction. It seemed like things had only gotten worse with the passing of time.

“Well, let me and my guards escort you to your room. The meeting is at five in the afternoon, sharp,” Zuko said as he gestured her to start walking. “Be sure to let me know if there’s anything else you might need.”

Following his lead, she looked him in the eyes. His gaze was puzzling, apparently impossible to decipher. Still, she could’ve sworn she perceived a strain of warmth somewhere behind the nervous batting of his eyelashes.

“Thank you, Zuko. I’ll make sure to be there on time.”

Katara felt as if her words had no real meaning. There was simply so much more to be said. She wanted to tell him to stop the nonsense, to ask how he was feeling, to question him about how he found out about what had happened in her life three months ago. But it wasn’t the time or place. It never seemed to be for the two of them. Her mind kept vacillating, completely disoriented, and as clouded as a stormy sky. It wouldn’t be the first time he messed with her judgment.

Repressing a frustrated sigh, she hurried into the Palace. The sooner she could be done with her visit, the better. That way she could go back to her quiet routine at the South Pole without any delays. Every single moment she spent there felt like a dagger sinking down on her chest. There were just too many memories, too many shadows of what it could have been. She wasn’t in the mood for an annoying “What if…?” to come waltzing into her life. Real life wasn’t as easy as a fairytale. She had made her choice years ago. Now, she was trying to live with its consequences. And to get through her visit to the Fire Nation without breaking down.

The council room was packed with delegates. Katara couldn’t help but curse the timing of the meeting. Just when she was starting to get back some sense of normalcy into her life, business had dragged her there once again.

The international collaboration between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribes had run smoothly for years. What a brilliant moment for Blaze Industries to start questioning the price of the oil the Southern Water Tribe provided them with. Of course, once one company inquired, the rest of them followed. In no time, a council was needed to discuss whether the terms of the economic alliance should be reviewed or left alone.

She had enough on her plate already. Being the first functional year of the Southern Water Tribe Waterbending Academy, work was as hefty as ever. Not to mention the most recent occurrence within her personal life. It had left her in a muddle, questioning her judgment. She had even isolated from all her friends. All because of her unwillingness to be honest with herself, or with anyone for that matter, until it was too late. Way too late to avoid any harm to be made.

Katara shook her head, making sure to be grounded enough before the meeting began. She wasn’t about to let her private dilemmas interfere with her work.

Everyone stood still as the doors opened one last time before starting. Fire Lord Zuko made its way to his usual seat. All that time and she still remembered to perfection where he used to seat at every meeting. With a polite nod, he saluted the attendees as he prepared to speak.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for being here today,” he greeted them. “I understand that Blaze Industries wanted to be the first one to present a statement. So without further ado let’s allow them to start. Chief Executive Kian?”

The chairwoman didn’t take long to comply. The assembly had officially started. If it went well she could be on her way home by the next day. She prompted herself to drop her concerns about her relationship with Zuko. The economic future of her Tribe could be jeopardized in the case the oil issue wasn’t handled properly. She could get sentimental some other time.

The nocturnal breeze caused her hair to sweep across her cheeks. Stars lit up the sky like snowflakes dancing around the darkness of the night. The light wind made the water ripple softly across the turtleduck pond. Silence hung in the air that surrounded the courtyard of the Royal Palace. As she strolled around the gardens, Katara wondered what on earth was she doing there.

Maybe she had just gotten tired of the solitude of her room, a place so impersonal that it felt almost insulting. The walls of this palace had once been like a home to her. Now the place was suffocating her, reminding her of why she was in that position in the first place. Or perhaps she had been drawn there by all those memories. Ghosts from brighter times.

It wasn’t like the outcome of the assembly had provided her with a reason for feeling so uneasy. She had managed to keep Blaze Industries and the rest of the companies at bay without harming their economic alliance. All that fuss for nothing. It only took for her to remind them of all the benefits of having her tribe as the primary oil supplier alongside a slight warning that a price increase might be necessary if they didn’t hold their end of the bargain to get them to stand down.

Of course, Zuko had backed her up. Despite everything that had happened between them, one thing had always been clear: they would do their best to support each other no matter what. Anyways, aside from that detail, she was sure Zuko knew how outrageous Blaze Industries’ claim was. He would never allow anyone of his Nation to take advantage of outsiders, not under his watch. After all, it was that attitude that made him such a good leader for his people. Peace had remained intact around the world thanks to leaders like them.

Seems like some things just don’t change, Katara thought as she sat by the turtleduck pond. Nothing was the same anymore, but there she was, back where it had all started to fall apart. That place brought back too many memories, good memories. She couldn’t help but smile, staring at the clear night sky, thinking about the time the entire gang had hosted a theater evening right in that same courtyard. Her heart felt bittersweetly warm from the vivid evocation of happier and easier days.

“What are you smiling about?” a familiar voice asked her.

A flinch. A heartbeat. A realization. He was right there, wasn’t he? Katara lowered down her sight, tilting her head to be able to look at him.

“I’m not smiling, Zuko.” Her words came out a little harsher than expected. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Well, that’s a great way to greet someone you care about, isn’t it?

They stared into each other’s eyes, paralyzed. He was still meters away from her, analyzing her from a cautious distance. Katara wasn’t sure if he would come any closer. His cold facade probably included ignoring her to death.

Still, Zuko took a step forward. And another. All the way up to where she was sitting.

“Has the outcome of the assembly brought you any relief?” He was standing right before her, with a puzzling expression on his face.

Of course, he would only come near to torture her with even more politics. She brought her knees closer to her chest, in an unconscious attempt to shield herself from the torment she was feeling. She couldn’t take it any longer.

“The outcome of the assembly was expected. What a shame I had to come all the way here to calm down some dull businessmen.”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you the primary Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe?”

Shocker. As if he didn’t know what she did for a living. Though, she hadn’t been acting like a proper ambassador for the last three months. At least regarding the traveling.

“Yes, Zuko, I am! Spirits, know you’re going to pretend we don’t know each other?” She hadn’t expected to be on the verge of screaming. Still, she didn’t care anymore. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they?

His eyes widened. Guess he wasn’t expecting her to get so loud either.

“Katara, you’ve been a complete ghost for three months. None of our friends were able to reach you,” he said as he let out a sigh. “We might as well be strangers at this point.”

“But we are not!” That’s it, her tone couldn’t possibly get any louder. “You didn’t even try to look for me! And don’t even pretend you didn’t know. Everyone knew. Everyone knew what a fool of myself I had made.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of the fact that I was the one who had to come running up to you after what you decided!”

She abruptly dragged herself to her feet. “But you knew! You knew what it meant for me to decline Aang’s proposal! Spirits, Zuko, you probably saw that one coming!” Her voice trailed off in an exasperated scream.

“Of course I saw it coming, but it wasn’t my place to interfere anymore, was it?” His voice started to shake.

Katara stayed quiet, unable to react to his statement. Looking at him now, at the way his eyes reflected a great deal of resentment, she felt more regret than ever before.

“Choices, Katara,” he continued to say, noticing her silence. “It’s all about choices.”

Zuko was telling the truth. She had unfortunately made sure to push him away five years ago. One stupid decision that had shattered every last bit of her existence. Even worse, it had also damaged many others. On a split second, all those moons ago, Katara had managed to secure heartache for them both.

“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you how sorry I am for tearing us apart? Do you want me to break into tears and confess how ridiculous I feel?” She felt a lump on her throat. “What do you want from me, Zuko?! Please, drop your act. I know in some corner of your heart you still care about me.”

“I’m not performing any kind of act!” He looked exhausted, worn out, defeated. “You were the one who told me we shouldn’t be together, or have you forgotten about that? You said I should go with Mai and you had to accept to be with Aang. A whole year, Katara, a whole year we sneaked around in the shadows, all because you were afraid of admitting the truth to yourself!”

He was right. Spirits, every word that came out of his mouth broke her walls down a little more.

Five years. Five miserable years since she had broken them up to be with someone else. To be with Aang, and for Zuko to be with Mai. All for what? Right there, standing in the courtyard, screaming at the person she had managed to push too far away, she had no clue.

“Zuko… I - It was all - I know, alright?” she mumbled, a treacherous tear streaming down her cheek. “It was the stupidest decision I’ve ever made.”

“Then, please, don’t look at me like I was the one who broke your heart. Because all I wanted to do was to be with you.” He sat down, staring at the ground. “That’s why I ended things with Mai so soon, unlike you, I wasn’t ready to wake up every day knowing I was lying to myself.”

He must’ve known his words were utterly harsh. But they uncovered an awful truth. She had been lying to herself for years. And the result had been more than clear. Three months ago she had rejected Aang’s marriage proposition, to everyone’s surprise. Except for a certain firebender that was familiar with every single one of her rough edges. As Aang pleaded for her to spend the rest of her life by his side, she had realized that was not what she wanted. Not who she wanted. Too late. Repeatedly too late. What a mess she had made.

Katara plummeted to the floor, sitting next to him. The nocturnal breeze caused her to shudder. No one else was there. It was only them, finally saying what they had wanted to confess for years.

“You know why I rejected Aang, right?” She finally asked, hoping her question would get him to look at her.

“Because you were never in love with him? Katara, why are you doing this? Your failed relationship is none of my business anymore. Plus, Aang told me all about it. I would prefer not to have to endure that torture once again.”

Wait.

“Aang talked with you about our breakup?”

“Don’t you realize that while you were hiding from reality the world kept turning? We’re friends, of course, he told me all about how you broke his heart.” He chuckled, bitterly smiling. “Little did he know, you broke mine first.”

“No, you don’t get to do this,” she blurted out, feeling her voice getting louder once again. “You don’t get to pin this all on me. You should’ve stopped me! If you were so certain we had to be together why on earth didn’t you do something about it?”

He finally lifted his sight, his eyes were puffy. “What did you want me to say? I practically begged you, Spirits, I told you I loved you. And you said you loved me too, but that you had to go. You left. I didn’t. I’m sorry for thinking that was what you wanted.”

“Zuko, I’m sorry too, alright? What am I to say now? I can’t turn back time.”

“You’re right, you can’t. Guess we’ll both have to live with it.” He started to get up from the ground. “Goodnight. I´m sorry, I can´t bear this any longer”

“Wait!” She grasped his arm with such intensity she thought she might’ve hurt him. “Please, don’t leave. I….”

“Katara, you asked me if I knew why you rejected Aang.” His voice was shaking. “Anything you want me to know?”

“It’s true, I rejected Aang because I didn’t love him,” she started to say, feeling her heart pounding on her chest. “Because I still love you, Zuko. I never stopped loving you.”

There. The secret was about. Five years of burying the truth deep inside her, endless days and nights of finding herself crying for no apparent reason. But the reason was there, it had always been there. It was him. She cried because of him. She cried for the love she had lost. For the person she had pushed away in an attempt of selling a lie to herself. She loved Zuko with every fiber of her being. It had always been there, burning in the back of her mind. And now he knew it too.

Silence. That was all the response she got from him. Silence and a pair of golden eyes looking thoroughly at her.

“Say something,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “At least have the guts to say you don’t love me anymore. Because I’ve just told you something that’s been killing me for years. I love you, and I’m sorry.”

Nothing. For a moment, there was nothing. Not even a blink.

Then Zuko grasped her shoulders and kissed her. It took her by surprise, almost making her question if perhaps their entire interaction was just a dream. But it wasn’t. It was real, crazy, unexpected. He was kissing her like they were running out of time; like somebody might pull them apart at any second.

Needless to say, she was kissing him back. She was kissing him like she had never kissed anyone before. Desperately, emotionally, and with a newfound intensity. This was the most alive she had felt in months. Right there, glued to the person she had once let go of.

Almost out of breath, Zuko pulled apart first. His eyes were glistening in the moonlight. A mysterious grin had taken over his face.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Katara, I’ve always loved you.”

Spirits, she couldn’t believe her luck.

“Then why did you shut me down like that?”

“Because you were with Aang! I had to keep my distance or it would have destroyed me.” He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “When I found out you had rejected him I… I wanted to go after you, to tell you that it was the right decision. I was dying to make you feel less alone. But I couldn’t do that to you, to Aang, or to myself. You needed to figure out what you wanted.”

“I want you, Zuko,” Katara said as she felt herself crying again. “I screwed up. Big time. I never should’ve made us go our separate ways. There´s nothing I regret more.”

“So what now, then?”

“Can we start over, please? I know there’s no way to erase the last five years from our memory. But we could make this right. We can make this work the second time around. Together.”

“I suppose we could do it. But, don’t you care what everyone else would think?”

“No, not anymore. I won’t make the same mistake again.” She cupped his cheeks into her hands, pressing her forehead onto his. “If you let me, I’ll prove to you that you’re all I want.”

His eyes showed he wanted it, too. Katara was sure of it. They had never stopped loving each other.

“Of course I’ll let you,” he replied, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Does this mean you’re not leaving tomorrow? Because I really should let the coachman know whether he has to prepare the carriage or not.”

Katara chuckled, considering his teasing an invitation to stay a little longer.

“I think I won’t be leaving until we figure this out.”

“Good, then you’ll add it to your schedule and I’ll add it to mine,” he joked.

“Are you going to keep chatting or does kissing me sound like a better idea to you?”

“Why don’t we wait another five years and I’ll see how it suits me then?”

“Sure,” Katara planted a kiss on his lips. “Whoops, five years are over.”

Zuko’s response seemed to agree with her since it only consisted of multiple kisses all over her face. She kissed him back, burying her fingers into his hair, making a mess of his Fire Lord looks. Neither of them cared anymore. They were finally together.

One choice had been her undoing. Yet, somehow, a single assembly had also pushed her to make things right. She couldn’t turn back time, but she could make the most out of the mess she’d caused years ago. And, Spirits, she had every intention to do so.

------ See? I promised you the ending was a happy one. I hope you enjoyed it! <3 @zutaraweek

#zutara #zutara week 2020 #zutara fanfiction #zuko x katara #every week is zutara week baby

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fly-pow-bye · 3 years

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What’s Airing On Cartoon Network? (July 2021)

While we’re in a rather empty spot for the network, Cartoon Network decided to add another show that was made for HBO Max to its television lineup: Looney Tunes Cartoons! Also, The Fungies continue their airing on television, and there’s new episodes of Total Dramarama and DC Super Hero Girls. More after the break.

Craig of the Creek

For completion’s sake, I’ll list the Craig of the Creek episodes here too.

June 28th:

Capture the Flag Part 1: The Candy - When mysterious circumstances cause issues at the Trading Tree, Craig tries to save the day! (10:00 AM)

June 29th:

Capture the Flag Part 2: The King - The Creek gets help from an unlikely friend. (10:00 AM)

June 30th:

Capture the Flag Part 3: The Legend - Craig goes in search of answers, and finds a legend. (10:00 AM)

July 1st:

Capture the Flag Part 4: The Plan - Craig puts a plan into motion to save the Creek. (10:00 AM)

July 2nd:

Capture the Flag Part 5: The Game - It all comes down to this, the fate of the Creek is at stake! (10:00 AM)

DC Super Hero Girls

July 4th:

#AngerManagement - When Jess coerces Kara into addressing her anger management issues, Supergirl's superhero abilities become seriously compromised! (8:00 AM)

#HappyBirthdayZee - Zatanna makes a birthday wish that forces her to confront the dark side of her magic. (8:15 AM)

July 11th:

#TheGreenRoom - When Jessica is faced with a Green Lantern Corps disciplinary hearing, Hal appoints himself to be her Peer Advocate. (8:00 AM)

#EnterNightSting - Karen is given a mission to prevent the apocalypse by DeathSting, a super-cool future version of herself. (8:15 AM)

July 18th:

#WorldsFinest - When PR whiz Max Lord tells Batgirl and Supergirl he can improve their image by doing publicity stunts, the two friends forget what being a hero is really about. (8:00 AM)

#WorkingStiff - After Babs hooks Karen up with a job at the Burrito Bucket, the two heroes encounter a new villain, the scourge of the fast-food underworld, the Condiment King! (8:15 AM)

July 25th:

#MultipliciZee - Zee magically duplicates herself so she can shirk work and watch TV. Things get out of hand when her copies start to make copies of themselves! (8:00 AM)

#TheMinus - Diana receives her first ever A-minus and becomes convinced that she needs to work harder, however, in order to do so, she resorts to rather drastic measures. (8:15 AM)

The Fungies

July 9th:

Sir Tree's Boy - Seth agrees to take care of Sir Tree's wooden boy, Boy Joy, but quickly pawns him off on Mertha. When Seth discovers that Sir Tree needs his boy back in order to survive, he must stage a heist to steal Boy Joy back before it's too late! (8:00 AM)

Commander Beefy - Seth, eager to explore the stars and find a fellow explorer, sends a signal to space. But the explorer who receives the message, Commander Beefy, has his own shady plans for Earth... (8:15 AM)

July 16th:

The Fanciest Fungie - Seth, frustrated that the Fancies are too caught up in the Fanciest Fancy pageant to listen to his warning about a fungus-eating bacteria, enters the pageant to get his message out. But when he gets sucked into the pageant, he'll have to face the consequences of getting distracted. (8:00 AM)

Snake It to the Limit - When Seth agrees to let an athletic snake replace his arm so he can finally be good at volleyball, he learns he doesn't need a fancy snake arm to make his teammates happy; he just needs to try. (8:15 AM)

July 23th:

Nevin's Cocoon - After a beautiful statue makes Nevin self-conscious about his own looks, Seth helps seal Nevin in a cocoon so that he may turn into a beautiful butterfly. (8:00 AM)

Cool Kids - When Pascal becomes obsessed with a group of cool kids, Seth promises to use his science skills to help Pascal become cool. But is coolness as cool as it seems? (8:15 AM)

July 30th:

Mermove Out - Seth is having a hard time sharing a room with messy Pascal and needs a change. But instead of being honest about the situation, Seth makes Pascal a mermaid tail so that his brother can finally move out-into the ocean! (8:00 AM)

Happy Birthday Nancy - Seth wants his mom to have the best birthday ever, so he creates his own currency in order to buy her an expensive gift. But he learns a little too late that counterfeiting is a crime, putting Nancy's birthday at risk of being ruined. (8:15 AM)

Looney Tunes Cartoons

July 5th:

Curse of the Monkeybird/Marvin Flag Gag: Deflating Planet/Harm Wrestling - Daffy Duck and Porky Pig search for hidden treasure. No one messes with arm-wrestling champ Yosemite Sam - until Bugs Bunny comes along. (9:00 AM)

Big League Beast/Hole Gag: Mini Elmer/Firehouse Frenzy -When Bugs overstays his welcome, an evil scientist unleashes Gossamer to get rid of him. Daffy Duck and Porky Pig make lousy firefighters. (9:15 AM)

July 6th:

Boo! Appetweet/Hole Gag: Plunger/Bubble Dum - Sweet victory turns into a nightmare when Sylvester fears he's haunted by Tweety's ghost. Daffy Duck faces off with a pesky piece of gum. (9:00 AM)

Pain in the Ice/Tunnel Vision/Pool Bunny - A hungry Sylvester sets his sights on Tweety, the ice skater. On a scorching hot day, Bugs Bunny makes himself at home in Elmer Fudd's pool. (9:15 AM)

July 7th:

Pest Coaster/Rhino Ya Don't - Bugs tries to ride a roller coaster, but Yosemite Sam is determined to stop him. At the zoo, Sylvester's lunch plans are foiled by a rhino. (9:00 AM)

Buzzard School/Marvin Flag Gag: Giant Alien Mouth/Wet Cement - Bugs Bunny enrolls Beaky Buzzard in Rabbit Hunting 101. Daffy wreaks havoc on Porky's wet cement. (9:15 AM)

July 8th:

Siberian Sam/Hole Gag: Fishing Pole/Fleece and Desist/Marvin Flag Gag: Mirror/Split Screen Marvin - In need of a new hat, Siberian Sam feasts his eyes on Bugs Bunny. Sam Sheepdog protects his herd from a hungry Ralph Wolf. (9:00 AM)

Grilled Rabbit/Cactus if You Can/Shower Shuffle - Elmer Fudd interrogates Bugs about a theft. Wile E. Coyote's plan to catch the Road Runner gets prickly. Daffy and Porky have shower troubles. (9:15 AM)

July 9th:

Overdue Duck/Hole Gag: Bees/Vincent Van Fudd - At the library, Porky Pig tries to silence a troublemaking Daffy Duck. Bugs Bunny interrupts Elmer Fudd's attempt to be a great artist. (9:00 AM)

Hare Restoration/TNT Trouble/Plumbers Quack - A self-interested Bugs gives Elmer Fudd dating advice. Wile E. Coyote runs into some dynamite problems. Elmer's leaky sink is no match for Daffy. (9:15 AM)

July 12th:

Daffuccino/Hole Gag: Moving Hole/Kitty Livin - Before his new coffee shop goes from grand opening to grand closing, Porky must impress an influential customer. Sylvester may have swallowed more than he can chew when he manages to trap Tweety... inside his stomach! (9:00 AM)

Chain Gangster/Telephone Pole Gag: Sylvester Car Jack Lift/Falling for It - Two bank robbers need Bugs' help to break out of jail. Daffy convinces Porky to go skydiving but forgets one important little thing... (9:15 AM)

July 13th:

Taziator/Marvin Flag Gag: Little Martian/Climate Control - Bugs faces off against Taz in a Roman coliseum. Wile E. Coyote orders a weather control kit, but his chances of catching the Road Runner remain cloudy. (9:00 AM)

Lepre-conned/Flag Won't Stay Straight/Brave New Home - Bugs is looking for Hawaii but finds Ireland and an angry leprechaun instead. Porky's new home has all the modern amenities anyone could hope for, including a computerized assistant - but the voice recognition software could use an update. (9:15 AM)

July 14th:

The Case of Porky's Pants/Fully Vetted - Detective Daffy takes on the case of Porky's missing pants. Tweety's trip to the veterinarian's office gives Sylvester the perfect opportunity for a lunchtime treat. (9:00 AM)

E-Rabbitcator/ Planet Split in 2/The Sales Duck - Bugs must outsmart a new technological foe. Elmer is ready for bed, but persistent salesman Daffy stands in the way of a good night's rest. (9:15 AM)

July 15th:

Pitcher Porky/Cherry Picker/Duck Duck Boom - Benchwarmer Porky finally gets his chance to shine on the pitching mound. With the game on the line, he needs all the help he can get - even if it's from Daffy. Elmer sets his sights on Daffy, but who's hunting whom? (9:00 AM)

Postal Geist/Anvil/Fudds Bunny - Porky and Daffy deliver packages to a haunted manor. Elmer's plan to disguise himself as a bunny to lure Bugs out of his hole doesn't quite go as planned. (9:15 AM)

July 16th:

Shoe Shine-nanigans/Multiply and Conquer/Parky Pig - Elmer visits Daffy for a quick shoeshine. Porky is running late for movie night but finding a parking spot is easier said than done. (9:00 AM)

Shell Shocked/Daffy Dentist - Bugs races against Cecil Turtle for the "fastest thing in New York City" title. The only thing more painful than Porky's sore tooth is a visit to dentist Daffy. (9:15 AM)

Total Dramarama

July 5th:

Breaking Bite - Beth becomes the big dog on campus after she bites Duncan, but being the big dog is a dangerous thing, especially when you didn't actually bite anybody! (5:00 PM)

July 6th:

I Dream of Meanie - When Cody keeps screaming in his sleep Gwen and Duncan take a trip into Cody's dreams to see what is scaring him. (5:00 PM)

July 7th:

Squirrels Squirrels Squirrels - Courtney's attempt to make Chef a better teacher fails when a squirrel gets his hands on her mind-control device. (5:00 PM)

July 8th:

Say Hello to my Little Friends - After telling the kids he will not miss them over the long weekend Chef locks himself into the school and finds out he was very, very wrong. (5:00 PM)

July 12th:

WaterHose-Five - The hottest day of the year and a broke air conditioner leads to a water battle of epic proportions to determine who controls the garden hose. (5:00 PM)

July 13th:

Cody the Barbarian - Cody is set to inherit a video game empire from his long-lost uncle, but only if he and his friends have what it takes to conquer a fantastical live-action video game. (5:00 PM)

July 14th:

TP2: Judgement Bidet - When the city experiences a toilet paper shortage Beth and Harold investigate and discover it's their old rival Sewer Mike who is the mastermind behind it all. (5:00 PM)

July 15th:

Dial B for Birder - Harold uncovers a secret plot that Chef's new parrot is hatching and tries to save his teacher only to discover that Sugar figured it out before him. Or did she? (5:00 PM)

July 19th:

A Hole Lot of Trouble - When rain derails an outside game of catch someone suggests they play it inside. This prompts Izzy to lead the group through her wildly imaginative worst-case scenario. It's an adventure so scary that the kids many never play again. (5:00 PM)

July 20th:

A Tell Tale - After Owen's BBF, Noah, goes through a growth spurt, Owen fears losing his friend and takes drastic action. (5:00 PM)

July 21st:

Chews Wisely - When the floor ends up covered in gum on the day of a big bubble blowing contest, Sugar decides she might help herself win by helping her friends get stuck to the floor. (5:00 PM)

July 22nd:

A Dingo Ate My Duncan - When all their classmates are replaced with well-behaved Australian doppelgangers in a school exchange program, Lightning and Cody start getting suspicious. (5:00 PM)

#fpb news #dc super hero girls #the fungies #looney tunes #looney tunes cartoons #cartoon network #total dramarama

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atamascolily · 4 years

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Extremely subjective opinions about Star Wars planets

Inspired by @carmarthenfan. I did my top ten faves, and then gave up trying to put these in order, so they're literally in the order they occurred to me.

(This is not conclusive; I left a bunch out. There are a lot of Star Wars planets, y’all.)

1. Tatooine.

Iconic. Terrible place to live. Great place for making your characters suffer. Who cares that the ecology makes no sense when you have wide open spaces, exposed rock layers and salt flats, and a rockin' aesthetic? Not to mention wretched hives of scum and villainy and also, like, ACTUAL DRAGONS.

(Thesis: literally half of what makes ANH so compelling is that it's set on Tatooine.)

2. Yavin IV (Legends)

AKA Jedi Jungle Friendship Camp or Space Guatemala. If I was going to live anywhere in the GFFA, it'd be here. Temple ruins (even if they are infested with Sith ghosts), hot springs, rainforests, biodiversity, awesome eclipses and a giant blood-red gas giant constantly overhead, not much in the way of development... what's not to like? (Okay, the Sith ghosts are a problem, but they got rid of those eventually.)

3. "Forest moon" of Endor, ROTJ

Redwood forests are awesome. I'd totally live in an Ewok treehouse. They're the only place in the galaxy with handrails!!

4. Coruscant

I'd probably hate to live there, but it's a great setting for fic. A surprisingly large amount of wildlife and plant life, despite the rampant development. Epic architecture, lots of culture, Luke has a cool retreat in the Manarai Mountains and Han and Kyp go skiing at the poles. Home of "the room where it happens".

(most of my fics to date are set on Tatooine, Yavin or Coruscant, lol)

5. Alderaan

Too bad the Empire blew it up. :( IDK about the whole Killik business, but Space Switzerland seems great, and I'd live there in a heartbeat. An actual multi-biome world, wow! I should write more fics about this place.

6. Myrkr (Legends)

Jungle planet with metallic trees and furry, Force-repelling lizards. Also giant vornskrs that use the Force to hunt. Don't forget Talon Karrde's awesome tree base!

7. Dagobah

I love this place, even if living there would be a challenge. Actually kinda has a functioning ecology in canon. Love the sheer abundance of snakes, plus dragonsnakes and the mangrove-like gnarltrees, which are the adult form of giant white spiders (I love plant-animal weirdness like this).

8. Mulako Comet (Legends)

Not technically a planet, but how can you not love a resort carved out of a giant frozen comet HOW. 10/10, we stan. The perfect place for a romantic getaway, especially if you are a water nerd like Luke.

9. Vjun (Legends)

The Gothiest goth place ever to Goth. Has names like "River Weeping" and carnivorous moss that nibbles on Obi-wan. <3. Vader's Goth castle was originally here before the writers moved it to Mustafar.

10. Honoghr (Legends)

Another terrible place to live, thanks to the Empire's sabotage, but I love there's actually an attempt at an ecological plot line here (Timothy Zahn is surprisingly good at those). A single biome world, but for a legit (and sad) reason. I should write some fics about this place.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Corellia (Legends) - It's okay, I guess? I'm not sure how I feel about the Corellian trilogy in general, but there are some things with the Selonians and the Drall that could be interesting for fic? Also, Treasure Ship Row is cool.

Kessel (Legends) - Hell-realm. Not sure if Kevin J. Anderson's "glitterstim" is the same as "spice," but Han and Kyp have to fight off giant spiders in the dark underground mine, which is certainly dramatic. Had a moon until a prototype Death Star blew it up.

Ithor (Legends) - JUNGLE PLANET POPULATED BY BOTANY NERDS, SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. But they won't let you actually explore the surface, because it's sacrilege. :(

Belsavis (Legends) - Hoth on the surface, Yavin in the rift valleys (but with, like, plantations), plus underground tunnels full of monsters and Jedi artifacts. Home of a secret Jedi botany master and his plant friends, so I'm in favor.

Chad (Legends) - Mostly ocean planet--I guess Space Earthsea, but with more geological activity? Callista makes it sound dreamy and idyllic in her flashbacks, but all the native Chadra-Fan are trying to GTFO, so I dunno.

Nam Chorios (Legends) -Like Tatooine, I would probably hate living there, but it's a great setting for a fic. The perpetual twilight would get old fast, but I love the terraformed ecology, the sentient rocks and the Force storms. Drochs are super creepy, though.

Hijarna (Legends) - There are ruins and sweeping vistas. What can I say, Karrde knows how to pick a secret base. :)

Dathomir (Legends) - Rancors have to be native to somewhere, so why not Dathomir? Courtship of Princess Leia is hokey and weird as all get-out, but it did give us Teneniel Djo, and I love her.

Hapes (Legends) -100% better at you than everything, and they know it. Leave them to it.

Yavin 8 (Legends) - Giant snakes and giant eagles... who literally eat children. Kinda weird being in a place where humanoids are on the bottom of the food chain. Love the Melodies' amphibious lifestyle, though.

Wayland (Legends) - Endor with the serial numbers filed off. Still love it, though. And Palpatine built a lair in a giant mountain! Props to him.

Ryloth (Legends) - sounds like an actual hell realm, but a desert planet? One half in perpetual sun, one half in perpetual darkness, and only a very narrow habitable zone? I’m game.

Msst (Legends) - Terrible, if accurate, name. All we ever see is the eponymous mist, plus giant pink creatures that numb you with poison and devour you alive. Brakiss's home planet. No wonder he hates everything. On the plus side, his mom got to see Luke Skywalker naked, so good for her.

Kashyyyk - TREE WORLD, WE GO HARD (part II). Except I don't think the Wookiees have handrails, do they?

Hoth - Ice, ice, baby. Ecology makes no sense; it's a fucking glacier. I would hate living there, but I've read so many fluff fics about snowfall fights and sex in X-wings and supply closets that I feel a kind of fondness for it.

Byss (Legends) - Dark. Hidden. Secret. Goth as fuck. I like it. Exegol, but with more class.

Ahch-To - Skellig Michael is great, but too recognizable as itself to really be a good stand-in for somewhere else. Puffins are better than porgs. Great place to hide, but I stand by my claims that the Jedi order could not have arisen there. Love the aesthetic. The Caretakers deserved way better!

Naboo - Space Italy. Would definitely live there. Closest thing we see to Dinotopia in the GFFA. (Tell me Theed isn't Waterfall City!)

Kef Bir - why not just let the original forest moon have multiple biomes? It's okay to have multiple-biome worlds, I promise, we wont get confused. Epic sweeping grasslands, steep cliffs, massive waves. I love what little we see of it.

Crait - you're going to film a Star War on the Bolivian salt flats and NOT make an epic dream sequence with the night sky reflected on the salt?? What. Hoth with red dust. Crystal foxes look like Vulpix from Pokemon, and I like them.

Ilum - cool ice planet gets turned into planet-destroying superweapon and blown up. Not a fan.

Bespin - I don't know about the ecology, but 10/10 for aesthetics.

Nal Hutta / Nar Shaddaa - Ecological disaster. Gross and full of Hutts.

Niraun (Legends) - I don't like caves and that's pretty much all we see. Especially if those caves are filled with carnivorous hordes of Space Army Ants.

Gamorr (Legends) - "Procedures programs for visiting Gamorr consist of a single line: DO NOT VISIT GAMORR. Really!” Especially do not visit in the season known as "slushtime".

Af'El (Legends) - I know very little about it, but it seems cool? "The Dark World". Home planet of the "wraiths" (Defel) and the homunculus wasps.

Kijimi - "Disneyworld with space facism". Swirling snow and stone looks cool at night. Too bad that fight scene was such a mess.

Takodana - it's the English Lake District, I'm never going to be able to suspend my disbelief to believe it's anything else.

D'Qar / Ajan Kloss - Yavin IV knockoffs. If you want me to care, you're gonna have to give me something better.

Exegol - this “planet” is just a CGI soundstage with a floating pyramid/arena whatever, and lightning. Weather instantly improved when Palpatine died, which strongly suggested he liked it that way. Knockoff Byss.

Mustafar - Literal hell-realm. Lava does not work like that. And apparently, ROTS insists it also has snow and trees, which seems like a little too late.

Canto Bight - you'd think people with that much money would have a better-looking planet. ughhhh.

#star wars #ecology #fictional natural history #fic ideas

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thedevourers · 4 years

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THE DEVOURERS - a reader’s choice web novel

The Devourers is a web novel led by you, the readers. Every Thursday I will post a chapter and at the end I’ll give you a choice. The choice with the highest votes wins, and dictates how the story moves forward. What kind of story is it? It has a little bit of eldritch horror meets dark academia meets magic school with a bit of tragic romance thrown in for flavor.

VOTE HERE OR ON PATREON (you get an extra vote if you vote both places!) but PLEASE VOTE. It only works if people vote! Voting closes on SUNDAY AT MIDNIGHT.

FROM DARKNESS WE RISE.

For nearly one thousand years the Commonwealth has stood as a bastion of light in the midst of great darkness. Beyond the edges of the map lie tempestuous seas boiling with unimaginable horrors, vast reaches of ash-covered lands lost to wars whose ghosts still linger in the shadows, forests so twisted with dark magic that none dare approach for fear of going mad. Within its borders, however, those who call the Commonwealth home do so with pride, for they are the last of this broken world to stand defiant, to weather the chaos and destruction which has long since wiped out all other civilizations.

Led by a council of powerful mages known as Brightspires, the Commonwealth upholds justice and civility and derives its success from the values it was founded upon; Enlightenment, Civility, Truth, Equality, and Beauty. These virtues are exemplified in the capital city of Aurilaco, a crowning achievement of architecture and arcana, a city of marvels and delights, of knowledge and history, of democratic values and the opportunity for a better life. Even those who live on the edges of the Commonwealth know its promise—Des Tenretuic Ne Vonsdi. From Darkness We Rise.

All who live within the capital know of the mages’ might, those higher beings whose minds shape reality and protect those who look up toward the floating tower of Cheredeme. The Cincelion Council rules with a gentle hand, and it is they who lead the armies at the edge of the world, they who craft benevolent laws so that all citizens of the Commonwealth live in peace. Some believe them to be gods while others simply thank them for their apparent goodwill and generosity. No one would dare question them, not in public, at least, for rumors that some have the ability to read minds have made all thought of defiance obsolete. They are eternal and detached, unreachable and perfect, like the floating Spire atop the clouds they live in.

They have not always been so, however. The Commonwealth was founded by five mages, but over the years others have been chosen to rise from the masses, to ascend to the heavens and take their place amongst the Brightspires. No one knows how and why these few individuals were uplifted, but the idea that anyone might one day become a Brightspire and serve under the council is a tempting dream. But the Spire has not been opened to anyone for nearly three hundred years. Whispers fly that something is wrong, that Brightspires have been seen more often of late, traveling the Commonwealth and mingling amongst the people. A sight which would have once been nearly unthinkable, extraordinary for its rarity, is now a cause for worry. Because stories enter the capital every day from the edges of the world—stories of monsters boiling up from the southern seas and hordes of undead massing at the northern warfront, of hysteria and madness in the fledgling provinces beneath the vast forest to the west. Of nightmares made flesh seeping out into the very center of the Commonwealth itself.

Annihilation blows through the winds that come down from the Spire of Cheredeme, winds of change and circumstance. Something lurks beneath the streets of Aurilaco, the Jewel of the Commonwealth--creeps into the dreams of those sleepers who stray too far from the lights of their protectors, awakens old enemies and unravels old secrets which were never meant to be shared.

A new generation of mages is set to rise from the growing chaos.

Five unremarkable people from across the realm. Five destinies intertwined and bound together. Five young souls who will decide once and for all if the Commonwealth lives on in light, or is devoured by darkness.

Who you are, how you rule--is your choice.

CHOOSE YOUR PAST.

Are you a criminal, born on the streets of the capital with dirty hands and a dirtier mouth, the best thief in the whole bloody Commonwealth, hungry to make something of yourself and ready to cut down anyone who gets in your way?

Are you a loyal soldier of the Commonwealth’s army, fighting on the front lines of a war that grows more twisted every day, fighting for the good of every citizen who lives far from the horrors you face?

Are you a sailor of the southern ice flows, a wanderer working whaling boats and ice miners at the edge of the world with nothing but the clothes on your back and the drive to find somewhere you belong, even with one eye always on the horizon?

Are you a conman, a charlatan, a rogue and a rake with a honeyed tongue and a smile that could melt even the coldest heart, a careful ruse you’ve built for yourself after years of loss and heartbreak, that lovely exterior nothing more than a pretty mask?

Are you a member of that highest class of citizen, a noble with a long line of ancestors that stretches back to the earliest days of the Commonwealth, determined to ensure the family legacy will continue long after you’ve made your mark on the world?

CHOOSE WHAT HAUNTS YOU.

When you were a child you had a nightmare which plagues you to this day.

The deep. You are fighting against dark waters, heavy clothes dragging you under the waves again and again with only a glimpse of the sky above you—yellow clouds churning with wind. Far off in the distance you think you see a house standing on a tall cliff of white stone, where someone watches as you drown.

The other. You are held tight in the arms of someone you love. It begins as a warm embrace until it slowly grows choking, an arm around your shoulders and your waist, another crushing you to their chest, and you realize that something else holds you. A voice in your ear sounds like the dying of souls, and you go mad with it.

The endless. You find a box in a darkened room. Light shines through the groove in the wood and you approach, heart pounding. Inside you hear every secret hope you whispered to the night when you thought no one was listening. The latch flicks open. The room is swarmed with winged terrors who want nothing more than to feast on your dreams.

The futility. You wait at the edge of a vast field of swaying purple grass. From utter silence a massive shape rises before you. It is a woman, taller than mountains, fiercer than a tempest. Tears roll down your face as she looks down at you, indifference in her gaze. You are nothing. You are small. And you will be consumed by the end of eternity just like everyone else.

The violence. You stand in a quiet forest. The trees sway around you, whispering a language you no longer remember. At your feet lies a child. At first, you think they are sleeping, but then you feel the warm steel in your hand, see the black ichor leaking from their eyes. They are dead and you hold the dagger. The whispers name you murderer.

CHOOSE WHAT DRIVES YOU.

Freedom. You want to live on your own terms, to forge your own path, to cut ties and fly as far and as fast as you can.

Power. You want to shape the world, to choose where the threads of history intertwine and weave it for yourself.

Adoration. You want love and devotion, to walk into a room knowing all eyes follow you, to be the light others turn themselves toward.

Knowledge. You want nothing less than to uncover the secrets of the world, to delve deep into the annals of time and consume all you can.

Vengeance. You want blood, you crave it, the reminder of loss a knife in your heart that you feel every time you draw breath.

So for this first post as we’re still figuring out logistics, I’d like people to vote by replying with the bolded word for each of your choices (total of 3). Voting will end on Sunday at midnight.

You can vote by replying to this post and going to my Patreon (if you do both you get two votes ooooo) so go nuts <3

#I have no idea how to tag this #web novel #choose your own story #authors on tumblr #writers on tumblr #dark fantasy #cosmic horror #romance

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