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hhoneyglasss · 2 years

Text

kill bill

notes: i think our favorite vampiric princess is in order for valentine’s season. hope u enjoy.

pov: alexis solaire — first person limited

pairings: past relationship(?) with alexis/sam, present relationship with darlin’/sam

word count: 2.2k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46534081

!! TWs {these begin under the cut} !! unhealthy obsession, physical threats, aggressive language, and graphic imagery. please proceed with caution or do not interact with this work if these topics r triggering for u.

reblogs r v much appreciated!

Time is cruel to those who go against its laws, but it's even crueler to those who follow them.

Time has always been something to rival against—a force that dares test the permanency of the Solaire name. Like all things who attempt the same feat, it is crushed into dust, and Solaire blood reigns victorious once again.

It’s a vicious cycle, but it’s one that’s kept us at the top—crimson crowns spilling red onto those beneath it. It can be ugly, even tragic, but it’s worth it. It’s power—indescribable power.

But it’s a lonely game between us, immortality and I. Eternity is kind to no man, to no creature of the night, and I, a Solaire, am no exception. A night of forever endlessly stretches out in front of me, a path I must travel alone.

Or so I thought.

Sam Collins was something more than the immortal night I was damned to. He was the moon, the stars, that lit up the dark blanket of sky who smothered me in its hold. He was always more than immortality or power—he was alive.

Maybe it was the drumming of his heartbeat in his chest or the way his cheeks flushed rose in the summer sun, but Sam Collins exuded life. He was vitality itself, a man who radiated it whenever he walked into a room. He was the true definition of human.

That’s what drew me to him. His humanity reminded me of the life I had lived so many years ago, those memories now forever captured in this perfect man. A gentleman with a heart of gold, but one who let close to none see it.

I was one of the lucky few.

I was falling—drowning in the river that was him. From his warmth to his touch, he invaded every aspect of my being, and I found myself hooked. Suddenly I saw a brighter future ahead, a future where someone would lead me through the night. I found my own northern star—he was Polaris, and I was the once-lost traveler.

But then his light started to dim. Precession began and suddenly the earth wobbled beneath my feet and Polaris was no more. He laid limp in my arms, fallen from the sky into my lap with a car door lodged in his abdomen. My vision stained red, the moon now blurry, and the future I saw now nothing but a faded fantasy.

I thought of the solution—I found a way to restore the life that had once pulsed through his veins. It’d be different, he’d be different, but he’d still be the same Sam. He’d still be my Sam.

My nails in his skin, his eyes locked on mine, and then my teeth in his throat. I hadn’t ever bitten him before—he said he hadn’t wanted that, so I listened. It was different now, though. He needed this, even when he pushed my hands away and begged me to stop.

My blood then dripped into his mouth, and it was complete. The golden glow of Polaris now shone silver, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. Sam Collins was alive, even if his heartbeat had slowed to an eternal flatline.

He didn’t understand.

One who had once fallen asleep in my arms now refused to even be in the same room. One who used to kiss me good night and walk me home now couldn’t bear to look at me. One whose heart I thought was mine now claimed I was dead to him.

I thought it was a phase. Bloodlust’s bitterness, or whatever you’d wish to call it. I pictured him coming back to me when it was over—that same crooked smile looking down at me, just with canines a little pointier.

But then the days stretched into weeks, then months, and then sooner than I realized, his bloodlust was over and the silent treatment showed no sign of stopping. He continued to avoid me like some foreign plague, but I still watched him, still thinking about the day he’d come running back to me.

The day hasn’t come.

Not yet, anyway.

That first year turned into two, then five, and ten and then fifteen years had gone by without a single look in my direction. Even if our progeny-maker thread had been cut, I could feel his change in breathing whenever I entered the room. The nervousness in it, the tension.

The pure, unbridled fear.

I was now the creature lurking in the shadows, the monster hiding underneath his childhood bed. The leviathan with fangs dripping crimson.

All hope was not lost, though. The moonlight still shone through the end of the tunnel, and I was patient. He would find his forgiveness eventually—Sam Collins is a good man, and good men know how to forgive.

That hope stood strong until I started to see the beginnings of the oncoming dawn.

This dawn made their grand debut at a monthly clan meeting in the shape of a wolf. A damned creation with scars slashed across their skin, beginning right underneath their jaw and wrapping around their arms, torso, and legs.

One of Sam’s flannels wrapped snug around their frame.

I watched them, my knees pressed to my chest as I sat on the stairs. I watched Sam’s hand rest on the small of their back, and I watched the way they leaned into him. I watched the kiss they placed on his cheek in greeting, and I watched the tilted shy smile he gave in return.

I watched all of it. I saw everything.

Ten minutes after my vigil began, Sam left them with a kiss on their forehead to speak with Vincent and William. They now stood alone on the right side of the room, their hands fiddling with the cuff of Sam’s shirt.

They must’ve detected me watching them when their gaze quickly shifted in my direction. I didn’t stop watching—I simply stared back. Their eyes were wide and curious before they crinkled into a small smile.

They waved.

They had no idea who I was.

All they knew was that someone in this wide room of vampires had done something ‘dreadful’ to their mate, something ‘unforgivable’. As far as they knew right now, everyone was innocent—everyone was a smiling face welcoming them into this clan with open arms.

How wrong they were.

I didn’t smile, nor did I wave back. Their smile faded slowly, and they dropped their arm and turned away.

Good. Pathetic chew toys are to be crushed ‘neath a Solaire’s marble heel, not given allowance to make eye contact, let alone smile.

I stood up from my perch on the stairs and walked away. I went past where Vincent, William, and Sam were speaking to one another, and like the past fifteen wretched years, I noticed the muscles in Sam’s arms tense and I saw his fists clench. His back straightened, and he became terrifically still when I walked by.

I paused, then turned to the mutt. Did they notice how Sam had reacted to my presence? Did they see how his posture changed? Did they notice the half-inch that his brows furrowed inward? Did they see it? Did they see him?

When I examined the expression on their face, I knew that they did.

The small smile that had tugged at their soft features had now completely dissipated—their mouth was pressed into a hard, straight line. Their eyes, once liquid sun in the light of the full moon, had frozen solid.

Resentment was in their eyes.

And protectiveness. As expected from a dog.

All wolves are the same—they bark, they bite, and then they die. One by one, they shrivel up and fall. It’s just nature.

I used to feel a sort of sympathy for them, us both being moonbound. I felt a kindred spirit in a way.

Not anymore.

The thing with the mutt was that they would not last. They had a few measly, troubled decades in this world while I had until the end of time.

I had eternity—they had a ticking clock.

There is no room in this world for immature vagabonds with a pension for death. There is no room for wolves who are fatally tied to their own mortality.

They will die eventually, and the Solaire blood will reign victorious. I will wear my crown again.

I went to stand beside the wall, watching once again when Sam made their way back to them. They jumped up to kiss his cheek again. I gagged.

Over the course of the night, I watched them. I saw when they both sat down for the clan meeting to begin. They never stopped touching for the entire night.

I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

If his hand wasn’t against their thigh, then his arm wrapped around their shoulder. If they weren’t leaning against him, then their hand closed over his.

Nauseating, disgusting, vile, obscene—there were a million words in the world to describe the scene playing out before me, but none of them quite held the venom I wanted.

The hour-long meeting seemed to drag on into oblivion until William finally dismissed the clan, a good natured smile warming his eyes as he bid us good night. I got up from my seat and began to stalk towards the door, my coat tucked under my arm.

I didn’t get very far when I heard a voice behind me. “Something tells me that staring at Sam’s partner like a tiger about to pounce isn’t gonna make him hate you less.”

Vincent. I stopped and turned around, but I stayed silent. His arms were crossed over his chest, his glare disapproving as it bore into me.

I took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vincent.”

“Tch,” he huffed, “I’m not stupid. Do you think I am?”

I didn’t answer that.

Vincent continued, “It wasn’t just me who noticed, Alexis. I heard them whispering to Sam about it during the meeting. You’re making them uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care.”

His eyes narrowed. “Fine, then. It’s making Sam uncomfortable.”

“You’re saying that to get me to care about their feelings.”

“And what if I am?” He asked, “He’s the only thing that gets through to you anymore.”

I paused. “…Does it really make him uncomfortable?”

He nodded. Silence fell over us.

He broke it. “So you’ll stop?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll try.”

Silence again.

Vincent leaned on the railing of the stairs. “You need to get over him.”

“I don’t need anything,” I growled.

“Yes, you do,” he countered, “It was different when he was single. You could chase after him all you want—he could handle the staring when it was only directed at him—but it’s not like that anymore.”

I braced myself. I knew what was coming.

“He’s with someone now,” he continued, “They’re mates, Alexis, and you know what?”

“What?” I whispered.

“He’s happy,” he said, “He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Maybe you would’ve noticed the change in him if you weren’t so stuck in your own head all of the time, but he’s content now. He smiles. A lot. And he laughs. A lot. He didn’t do that much before.”

Another pause. I started to curl into myself.

“He loves them, Alexis.”

There it was.

The arrow through the Achilles’ heel, a wooden stake piercing my stone heart. Sunlight burned through my flesh until nothing was left but a pile of unlovable ash, blown away in the winter wind.

I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping my coat until my fingers stabbed through the fabric.

I looked up at Vincent. “Say that again, and your tongue will be shoved so far down your throat you’ll be dead before you hit the floor.”

I didn’t wait for his reaction. I turned on my heel and swept through the meeting room’s double doors, ignoring his angry shouts. They were static now.

I made my way around the building, hoping to find my car before I shattered my keys when I saw the two of them in the parking lot.

The mutt had a bundle of flowers in their arms, the bouquet tied together neatly with a red ribbon. They held a card decorated with hearts in their left hand.

Valentine’s Day. How could I forget?

They gazed with awe at the card and flowers, and the brightest smile lit their adoring features.

I could almost see the stupid fucking halo.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, a gesture he always did when he was bashful.

It was sickening.

I stared at the bouquet.

There were roses in it.

I looked back up at Sam.

I wondered what I could do with those thorns.

My imagination began to run wild. I imagined snatching the roses from their bouquet and sinking the sharp thorns into Sam’s throat, dragging them through his skin while they tore him open. He’d fall to the ground, his hands around his neck, and his wide, too human-like eyes would beg for help. The dog would scream and scream and scream and I’d scream too, relishing in the noise, and my vision would bleed red just like it did fifteen years ago.

They’d call for help, but no one would come. The hours would tick by and the sun would soon rise. I’d watch from the shadows as Sam’s corpse burned to ash instead. He was the forgotten one now.

The asphalt would bleed red too.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted alexis #redacted asmr alexis #redacted audio alexis #redacted sam #redacted asmr sam #redacted audio sam #redacted darlin #redacted asmr darlin #redacted audio darlin #redacted solaire clan #redacted fanfic #honeyglass’s handwritings

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nobodyeverasked · 4 years

Text

boiling point; lee felix

(3667 words) - large

summary ➣ It just takes a little thing to push you over the edge. The waters below aren’t always as gentle as you hope they are.

genre ➣ fluff (+ angst)

requested - 👍

note ➣ This is the first of a couple Felix requests that I received: this is the one where the reader gets pushed over the edge by something Felix says or does.

.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・. -: ✧ :-゜・．

Y/N sighed into the blue light enveloping his frown, tired eyes settling upon his half-finished report and wandering thoughts lingering on the deadlines that preen at his withered conscience like vultures. His hands traced over the keyboard once more, but he was too drained to do anything, the hours on the clock across from him burned into his vision, and made it feel like the cheap laminate floors below him would swallow him whole as soon as midnight struck.

Maybe he could find out where his twenty dollars went.

Between the projects suffocating him like a thick, noxious smoke, his night shifts at the gas station down the street and his hopeless freelance photography gambits, Y/N feels at a loss, like he’s burnt out. All of the sparks of his ambition stifled under lost desires and dreams just perched higher than he could reach. He thinks about it everyday, the stars weathered in his hands; the visions of doing something meaningful, changing the future through his passions. But they scatter, lost to the moonlight whose gleam through his apartment windows is almost as worn as he is sometimes.

However, there are times, when he doesn’t have to think about who he has to be or who he wants to be, there are some times where he can feel accepted for who he is - as mediocre as he perceives himself to be. Those moments that shine upon his heavy shoulders like a blue moon, but come by as often as the morning sun rises past the lavender clouds. His blue moon was Lee Felix, his boyfriend, the only one in this world who keeps him sane.

He remembers the first day he met him, bumping into him by the science faculty - he still remembers when he used to take Biology seriously - Felix’s brilliant smile that sent him to the skies and back. Their memories of conquering the early winter sunsets and sharing their firsts in the bed right in the other room are the only things he will never forget. The words they’ve cherished, stuck between their teeth like their tongues on lazy Sundays and lingering just long enough like their goodbye kisses on Felix’s way home. Being with him is like his only break, where time stops, but fast-forwards at the same time as Y/N can look towards a brighter future-

Y/N was shook out of his trance by a light knocking on the door. The rhythm resonated through the walls, and he knew exactly who it was. He peeled himself off the ground, shedding the ivory light of his computer screen and scampered towards the door, a small, eager smile plastered on his lips in earnest. Before he could even open the door, arms snapped out and wound around him, a frayed head of blonde hair nestling into the collar of his large sweatshirt.

Speak of the devil, it was Felix.

Y/N released a sigh of relief into Felix’s hair, kissing the top of his head as hushed laughter seeped into his chest. Delicate kisses wandered to his collarbones, lost in the warmth of their embrace. He has never been more relieved to see the only source of his comfort since the lukewarm tangle of sheets in the room just a few bounds from them felt more like a prison when he breathed into the ivories of the night alone. Y/N didn’t know if it was the sweetness Felix held between their hands or the lack of natural sunlight driving him insane for the man tucked between his arms and smiling at him like an idiot, but he has never felt more thankful.

He took Felix’s face in his hands, smiles molding the twining of their lips as he led him further into the room, Felix kicking off his slides in haste to step further into his boyfriend’s arms. Felix sang into Y/N’s skin as he buried his nose into his neck. It was a familiar melody, one that would always greet Y/N on those slow mornings where not even the morning breeze could separate them, where the silken glow the sun would stain their tongues - molten gold on their skin.

Windows of peace like these are hard to come by, but the sweet blessings Felix whispers into Y/N’s chest on every faded night put them just within his reach. A life that was more than just a rapidly declining spiral of stress and mania was a thought not too long ago that only taunted him from the recesses of his crowded thoughts. Felix made it all okay.

It was only then, a few steps further into the living room - when Y/N could hear the faint rustling of plastic between Felix’s fingers - that he realized what weighed on their hug. A bag of Chinese food now stands tall on his coffee table, a brilliant grin plastered on Felix’s face as they begin to sway under the amber lights, sparks between their gazes carving a rhythm into their lips as Felix eased his tongue between Y/N’s teeth.

“Surprise~ I have brought you nourishment.” Felix took their hands and shuffled over the couch Y/N recently peeled himself from, the 12 point, double spaced shackles grinding against his nerves piquing Felix’s interest now. Y/N collapsed onto Felix as they sat on the couch, the tan fabric under them singed already by the sparks in their voices. Somehow - with Felix’s fingers combing through his hair - this couch has never felt more comfortable.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” Y/N kissed Felix’s forehead, going in for another when he felt a giggle stain his cheek in the garnet of their smiles. “Although my diet of instant ramen and Dairy Queen’s takeout salads is more than substantial.” Y/N peered over at his room temperature coffee. A wistful sigh in the dissipating steam wrangling his attention. Even his coffee was tired, and he just brewed it this evening.

“Dairy Queen does salads?”

“To be honest I didn’t know until recently,” Felix threw his legs across Y/N’s, humming into Y/N’s hands as they took him in like they didn’t just experience the wonders of his skin just the night prior. It’s just that nights with Felix last forever and not long enough at the same time, their sonnets in the midnight breeze that dance between their hands the only time where time is on Y/N’s side. Not on the side of his bitchy gas station manager, or a client who happens to be in the area two hours earlier than they agreed while a presentation on who knows what is due the following evening. But on his and Felix’s, like he always wanted.

“Oh, baby…” Felix kissed under Y/N’s eyes and smoothed his thumb against his cheek, then looked back at Y/N’s practically undead laptop and the millions of tabs he had open. He leaned on Y/N’s shoulder, and could already tell that he wasn’t the heaviest thing to be laid upon them. “I’m gathering that things aren’t as peachy as you keep saying they are…”

“I just don’t want you to worry… I appreciate everything, but I don’t need you living for the both of us.” Y/N kneaded his touch into Felix’s thighs, letting his head fall onto his boyfriend’s and heaving a sigh thick enough to fill the room for the both of them.

“Here, I have something to cheer you up. Other than outlandishly lemon-y chicken.” Felix sat up, holding onto Y/N’s hands tighter. Y/N closed his laptop in response, and the way his frown loosened by doing that instantly brought a smile to flourish upon Felix’s lips. “I have a proposition.”

“A ‘Felix’ proposition? What havoc will you wreak this time?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. The last time there was a proposition of any kind, a ‘nature walk and some private time’ left them stranded in the heart of a forest that they never even knew existed. It didn’t even show up on Google Maps. At least the flowers were pretty, and the shards jade light that danced upon Felix’s cheeks was even more beautiful. Despite the light of Felix’s smile making the light of the afternoon sun upon the creek they shared a kiss by pale in comparison; maybe taking him up on his hike offer after The Blair Witch Project rendered them sleepless just a few nights prior may have resulted in a lot less screaming and perpetual paranoia.

“You said it wasn’t that bad!” Felix straightened up and tackled Y/N down into the couch, their laughter seeping into glowing cheeks and sweetening the air that lit up with the stars in their eyes. Y/N’s touch ignited the fires under Felix’s just enough to earn another kiss to tie their tongues. Felix’s hands cradled Y/N’s cheeks and entwined with his hair as the midnight whispers hovered around them like the aurora blue of their summer nostalgia. Their moments of peace. Felix leaned up with a lingering kiss to Y/N’s nose and grasped for a moment to steady the remnants of his breath that weren’t stolen from between his teeth. “Can we have Hyunjin and Seungmin over? I’ve been dying to hang out with them, and I know you miss them too!”

“Uhm…” Y/N tried to bite back a sigh. He did miss them and their company, as the laughs they brought always held him back from checking the clock. “Maybe not tonight babe, I have a lot to do… Did you see my computer?” Felix couldn’t hide the deflation in his shoulders, the ivories in his eyes losing their spark as he agreed with a subtle nod. However, with the loose grasp he had around Y/N’s fingers growing tighter, a relentless plea seared into his caresses against Y/N’s knuckles.

“I know…” Felix’s sigh was heavy and exasperated, a haze between them blinding Felix from the weights that dragged down on Y/N’s once effortless smile. He missed how it shone, and thought that having some old friends over could help reforge the galaxies in Y/N’s eyes that light up Felix’s entire world. “Can’t it wait just a little bit? We haven’t seen them in forever! It would give you some time to relax...”

Felix’s persistence dug into Y/N’s head, scratching at him like the sunlight on the mornings of his dreaded exams. The silence between them that followed lingered like cheap perfume, the colour of the weathered moonlight crumbling against their shoulders and wearing down on the hands that rest intertwined between them. Y/N was surprised that Felix couldn’t understand what he was going through; the millions of tabs and encroaching due dates like hundreds of busted cogs in a once well oiled machine. The hours where the moon threatened to slip from the horizon were some of Y/N’s worst, the only thing stopping him from letting himself get swallowed by the bleached ocean of his sheets being Felix’s arms coiled around his waist that kept him afloat. Shifting tides of worry and trepidation being a careless whisper in the skies their endless stories have carved together.

Felix never knew what his embrace did for Y/N, their white nights spent studying under covers meaning more pizza and boyfriend time to him, but everything to Y/N - a chance to succeed or fail, or shove another window of time between him and an eviction notice. Maybe it was because Y/N never told him about what was really going on when the sparks from Felix’s goodbye kiss finally wore off. The warmth and brilliance of his angelic kisses, a garland of roses he would wear on his neck like diamonds.

“No. It can’t. Please, can we just push it back?” Y/N didn't mean to make his statement as curt as it stumbled from between his lips, but he couldn’t handle it anymore. Why was Felix so insistent?

“Why-”

“Because it can’t! Okay?! I CAN’T!” Y/N shot up from the couch, Felix flinching as he threw his hands up, eyes tired and intense at the same time. Felix’s eyes shot up to look at him, eyes wide with something that bordered on panic. “I have papers up my ass, a fifty page case study due midnight, three tests tomorrow back to back and I have a freelance meeting at noon that might actually pay me something! What I really need right now is just some peace and quiet, ‘cause these projects are the only things between my tanking average and renewing my scholarships that are literally the only thing putting food on my table.” Y/N’s eyes instantly widened and his voice died down to a whisper, a silent gasp parting his lips.

All Felix could do was look down at the ground, how Y/N’s words beat against him was something he couldn’t explain. Somehow language couldn’t decipher how the floor warped beneath his gaze. Was this what was bubbling beneath the surface all this time? The burden that scorned so many of Y/N’s restless nights and the smile whose radiance he always thought tried a little too hard, but appreciated nevertheless. The way it burst out from him. How could he have never known or seen this? Was the starlight tucked between their teeth really that blinding?

‘Felix… I-”

“No.” Felix cut in, striding through the thick, toxic silence that tore through him like the shrill cries of the snowstorms that would keep him from sprinting to Y/N’s front door. “I’m sorry… I thought that a distraction would make you feel better, but I never knew how much you had on your plate… How did I not know about this…?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it Felix. I didn’t mean to yell at you…” Y/N bit back the bitterness of his regret as it strangled his breath. He shifted back over to the couch, where Felix made some room for him to sit back down. Y/N gripped at the cushion under him, hoping that the coarse fabric taken between his fingers could help ease the pain that Felix’s guilt-ridden eyes pressed into him. “I didn’t want you to worry about anything. I just wanted you to think that I had everything under control so you didn’t have to do any babysitting when you came over here, you deserve so much more than that. We’re supposed to have fun when we’re with each other - it’s time for you and me. I didn’t want to ruin that with all of my stress…”

With a sigh, Felix took Y/N’s face in his hands, Y/N leaning into his touch as the warmth tangled between his fingertips stained his cheeks. Felix’s smile widened as lips pressed against his palm, the silence sewn between them by whispers of moonlights soothing the twilight perched on one furrowed brows and bitten lips. “You’re my boyfriend, Y/N, and I love you more than anything… I would drop everything to help you, It’s my job. How could I just let you deal with things on your own like that?” Felix rested his forehead on Y/N’s flourishing as he heard traces of a giggle - flashes of their late summer nights - brush against his lips.

Y/N pulled back, though eyes still stuck to the ground. He hoped that Felix’s hands against his skin would pull him out from the riptides of his doubts, yet they still found a way to seep into his head again, leaving him with no room to breathe. He opened his mouth, and for a moment nothing came out. “That’s my point Felix… I don’t want you to feel like you have an obligation to do anything for me. You’re already doing so much with your life, sometimes I don’t even know how you carve out time for me… But your job isn’t to sacrifice your time just to make me happy.” Y/N felt bad, almost guilty. He always stopped and wondered how Felix would always show up at his door when he needed him most, and how he always did it with this smile on his face that told him that within this single moment - the place where the only things that exist are them and the pizza boxes on the floor - that everything was going to be okay.

Felix sung a chorus of heavy breaths and rested his hand on Y/N’s shoulder, gently kneading his skin as he worked his touch to Y/N’s neck. He fastened Y/N’s gaze on his own and brought him closer. He wanted Y/N to hear the truth that belted from under his tongue, the passion that danced in his heart in a plume of flames. “Baby… It may not be federal law as your partner. But I’m always here for you, and you’re always there for me. You always are no matter what.” He tilted his head, grinning as Y/N slowly nodded, pressing his lips into a fine line. “It’s never not okay to ask me for help - or anyone for that matter.”

“I… I know… I guess I just didn’t want you to realize how much of a complete mess I am. I want to be the best version of myself for you, you deserve it.”

Felix nudged Y/N’s chin, catching his dejected stare once more. He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s nose, peppering rose stained grins against Y/N’s cheeks until he made it to his lips, a quick peck against Y/N’s beautiful growing smile to rekindle the sparks in the eyes he finds himself lost in every single night they spend beneath sheets of starlight. “That’s the thing… I don’t care if you’re clean as a whistle or as dirty as Hyunjin’s mind. I don't care if you’re smart or dumb, happy or sad. Who I love over, under and beneath all of that is you, Y/N. As your boyfriend, and I’ll do anything to make you smile, because I love when you’re happy…” Felix pulled Y/N to him, a tender plea to hear his words and listen, and entwined their lips, humming between Y/N’s teeth as he took his waist in his hands and let their tongues wander for a brief moment, a brush of their bodies against the blue velvet of their moonlit slow dances.

Pulling back and taking the words spoken into his skin like poem and song, Y/N sighed against Felix’s shoulder. He hugged Felix a little tighter, his lips soaked in the sweetness of the man who was tucked between his thighs.

“From now on, I’ll be less oblivious… I promise. I never knew what you were going through...” Felix’s voice molten silver like the carvings of summer rain against their window, his lips against Y/N’s neck as he drew a soft, patient breath to continue. “Remember that you can always come to me if you need anything, or I might have to start adding a snuggle tax~” Burying his nose in the curve of Y/N’s neck, he squeezed his eyes shut as the ringing of Y/N’s blissful laughter took flight around the room.

“I will, I will, don’t worry. I’m still really sorry. I’ll make sure to be more transparent with you and not keep you in the dark anymore.” Y/N stole a glance at his computer before letting his gaze settle back on his love that rested between his arms, the skin he’s memorized over and over in the glow of their stray kisses. “That’s also a tax I wouldn’t mind paying, you know.” Y/N caught Felix’s laughter between his teeth, entangling their lips and running his hands through Felix’s hair.

“So… Want some Chinese…?” Felix caressed Y/N’s cheeks and turned his head towards the plastic bag of food still sitting on their table, radiant smiles casting glimmers in their eyes as Felix wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss to the corner of his smile. He reached over to the bag of food, the lukewarm containers in his hands etching a grimace into his features. “We gotta get some brainfood to finish your projects!” Felix watched as Y/N’s fond smile found its way to his once more.

“Lucky for you, I have the privilege of owning a Ramen-Cooker 5000.” Y/N gestured with a head-nod over to the microwave in the kitchen. Felix chuckled and trotted over to the kitchen, leaving Y/N to flip up his laptop. Somehow the white light of the screen that always weighed heavy on his shoulders didn’t seem too bright, too blinding even under covers in the shadows of the night. It was like something was shoved off his chest, giving him a moment to finally breathe even if the deadline was only a few paces away. He felt alright. “Oh, Felix…?”

“Yes, babe?” The noise in the kitchen stopped, and Y/N realized that the chimes sung between clinking dishes was an awful lot for food that came in plastic containers. Felix peeked out from the doorway, ivory gleams in his smile still as radiant as the sun and its golden thread was sure to tie their chests together the next morning.

“Thank you, for everything.” Y/N looked up from his place on the floor and leaned his head back against the seat of the couch, matching Felix’s grin from across the room. Felix really was his saving grace, a safe haven to freely spread his wings. Even if the ticking of the clock above him wore him down and his weathered heart, Felix was always there to make even their few minutes together last for hours, an everlasting moment to set him ablaze in the colours that dyed their skin with their most cherished memories. Past, present and future.

“Anything for you, Y/N…”

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids felix #stray kids felix x reader #stray kids felix x male reader #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix x male reader #felix x reader #kpop lgbt #lgbtq+

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sapphic-yearning-lesbian · 3 years

Text

Epilogue (The Kumandra Memorial Hospital)

As annoying as it sounds I had this sitting on computer for a long time; I was just struggling to like it. SOO two days ago I rewrote the ending; so roughly 4,000 words out of 7,000... ANYWAY’S happy with it now.

Summary: Namaari and Raya being soft for each-other! Basically all fluff!

Warning’s: Mention of liquor, mild swearing, and implied sexual intercourse.

Here’s a preview, the rest of the story is on A03

The First Date

Raya had been discharged from the hospital for over a week, but she was still on bed rest, meaning she couldn't leave her house. Being surrounded by the same four walls was driving her insane. Even so, she was still thankful for her friends, family, and especially Namaari. They always came around and kept her company.

So what was Namaari to Raya?

Hell, as if Raya knew!

Namaari usually came around when others were present, so they hadn't gotten the opportunity to grow to know each other romantically any further. Yet, Namaari always found time to come and visit Raya, knowing they wouldn't be alone.

Maari, even bothering to show up, always meant the world to Raya as she genuinely felt wanted in her life.

Raya was looking in the bathroom mirror as she was towel drying her hair. Simultaneously, Sisu was changing her dampened wound bandages. Anticipating this, Raya had placed saran wrap over bandages to prevent this, but some water did manage to seep in. Thankfully Sisu remembers the basics of wound care and helps her change them.

Once Raya's hair isn't dripping, she brushes her hair as Sisu finishes. "Your bruise has gotten better," Sisu muttered under her breath, causing Raya to chuckle.

"Ohh, that's nothing!" Raya answers as she looks down at her chest in the mirror. She notices her bruise is fading and green now, only crawling partially on her left boob, mostly on her ribcage. "The bruise was spread across my whole rib cage and boob before in a grape purple."

Sisu nodded as she turned away and tossed Raya a huge oversized shirt. "I'll be outside the door," She said while making a peace sign exiting the bathroom.

Raya sighed as she slowly put on the shirt, trying not to injure herself further. Usually, Sisu or her Ba help her, but she's trying to do things independently; or at least try. She eventually managed to get the shirt on but was slightly winded by the effort needed to do the task.

Once she was all dressed in her oversized tan shirt with cheeky black underwear, she opened the bathroom door and found Namaari outside the door smiling at her. "NAMAARI!" Raya squealed as she lightly threw her arms over Maari's shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

"Raya," Namaari hummed as she wrapped one arm around Raya's waist as the other made its way up to her hair, gently massaging her scalp. "I need you to trust me, okay!" Namaari whispered as she pressed a quick kiss on Raya's right cheek, pulling away.

The warmth of Maari's lips kissing Raya's cheek still lingered as she nodded a quick yes. The next thing Raya knew, Namaari had pulled away and placed one hand over her eyes, as the other hand remained wrapped around her waist, leading her through the house.

"I know you're tired of being stuck at home," Namaari voice varies in high and low pinches, revealing her underlying nervousness. "I hope this helps," She admits as she guides Raya out to the backyard before removing her hand from her face. "SUPRISE"

When Raya opens her eyes, she first notices a white fabric hut in the middle of her backyard. The inside is full of comfy pillows and blankets. Her eyes then shift to the right, where she finds an array of foods and desserts on a picnic blanket; in the center sits a bottle of champagne and its glasses. She smiles as she shifts her gaze back to the left and notices a tiny projector pointing to her house.

The gasp that leaves Raya's mouth is full of amusement and pure joy. She couldn't believe Namaari pulled this all off in less than 30 minutes because that's how long she took showering and changing. "It's beautiful, Maari... words cannot describe what I'm feeling." Her stomach had erupted in butterflies while her core tingled ever so slightly.

Namaari only chuckles in amusement as she leads Raya to the assortment of foods she's provided. Once Raya comfortably sat down, she plops down (not so gracefully) next to her; she just wanted to be near her.

Maari understands how typical dates work: You sit across your date to get to know them better. But Namaari had learned so much about Raya these last four weeks.

That's all Namaari could really do; listen.

Technically Namaari was just another of Raya's friends. She couldn't comfortably kiss her or even touch her platonically, surrounded by others, out of respect, as they weren't official.

A friend who also happens to know the taste of the back of Raya's throat?

Anyways! Namaari knows Raya.

Raya loves the outdoor's more than anything, and her preferred way of exercising is hiking.

Raya has a prominent inner child.

Raya lives her day-to-day life in the spur of the moment but is very detail-oriented while working.

Raya's favorite color is turquoise because it's a mixture of both blue and green.

Raya is a night owl but will not work nightshifts.

Namaari knows Raya!

Raya smiled from ear to ear as Namaari popped the champagne bottle. "Woahhh, look at the bubble," She spoke in awe as she noticed the way Namaari bicep tightened as she popped off the cork.

The truth is Raya had quickly become obsessed with Namaari. She found herself missing her voice, the warm feeling in her abdomen when she was near, and her scoff.

Anytime Namaari scoffed, Raya felt as she died and returned to earth. She cannot come to explain the mixture of feelings that small action has on her entire being.

Raya is also very aware of Namaari's physical beauty; sometimes, she questions if Leonardo da Vinci sculpted her out of clay because there is genuinely nothing not to love! Raya loves Maari's rounded and wide nose, her pump upper lip missing its cupid bow, her squinted and curved eyes, her clean and maintained brows. But most of all, Raya loves Namaari's glistening, beautiful brown skin.

But of course, Raya also learned to appreciate Namaari as a whole. She liked to believe that she knew Namaari.

Her favorite color is gold.

She's an early bird!

Her favorite pass time is running marathons or volunteering with children. She is also very hard-headed and focused when working; sometimes, that seeps into her every day.

Maari also claims to be emotionally unattached, but Raya can see past that: She sees how much she wants to be understood and loved for all her flaws. And Raya hopes to be that for her.

Namaari poured the champagne into both their glasses, handing one to Raya once she finished. She then raised her glass to make a toast, Raya quickly mimicking her movements. "I want to toast to the beautiful stars and the moon shining above us." She raises the glass higher "And even as bright as they are, somehow you shine brighter than them, in your beauty." Namaari watches as Raya's face is engulfed in a red tint as she lightly shoves her shoulder with her own.

"I want to make a toast to Tong!" Raya spoke with a grin, only watching Namaari raise an eyebrow in confusion, "Because of him...I stumbled into the arms of this gorgeous specimen sitting beside me." She said, replacing her grin with a smile. "Cheers"

"Cheers."

They clinched their glasses before bringing the alcohol to their lips, both of them looking at each other with such fire and passion.

At that moment, a new feeling settled in their hearts, which they wouldn't express that night because love is scary.

...

For the rest of the night, they engaged in heartfelt conversations, passion-filled conversations, plenty of stolen or perfectly choreographed glances, the perfect amount of physical contact, and plenty of kisses—all amongst eating smores, shrimp Chao, a wide variety of fruits, and rice dumplings.

Once they finished conversating around 2 am they settled in the tent, watching the projected movie Luca on the side of Raya's house.

Namaari was the big spoon, and Raya was the small spoon.

They didn't actually watch the movie as they were too busy kissing each other's faces. Overall, they enjoyed having alone time as it allowed them to explore their romantic feelings for one another.

As the movie came to an end, Raya started to doze off. Namaari only watched her as she struggled to keep her eyes open, a smile resting on her lips. Never did that smile leave her face the entire night. Maari only scoffed as she bent her head down to press a kiss onto the tip of Raya's nose. "Are you awake, Dep La?" She asked in a whisper as the other only nodded while nuzzling deeper into her chest. "Can you look at me?"

Raya yawned into Namaari's chest as she pulled her face away just enough to lock her eyes onto Maari's. "Is this when you tell me our relationship is platonic?" She questions with the tiniest smirk on her lips. Namari only smirked back at her, causing her heart to began to flutter.

"Actually, about that...will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?" Namaari questioned as she ran on hand through her hair. All the while watching as Raya's eyes widen as a cheerful gasp slipped from her lips.

"AHHHH, I GOT THE HOT ER NURSE TO ASK ME OUT," Raya yelps as she lifts her free hand, pumping the air. "That's a yes." She finally clarifies as they both burst out laughing.

---

Apparently I’m a hopeless romantic for these two. Good to know XD.

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dinsrose · 4 years

Text

My Center of Happiness

Din Djarin X Female Reader One Shot

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Praise Kink, Soft Din, Swearing

Summary: Reader and Din stargaze together, and it basically just turns into pure porn. If soft smut, fluff, and praise kink are your thing, you have come to the right place.

You can read the one shot here as well on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30192981

Here’s a song that reminds me of the fic

Here’s a song to listen to as you read the one-shot. It reminds me of Din and Rose in this particular scene.

The stars are perfect tonight. They twinkle and dance throughout the sky while shining brighter than you have ever seen them. There must be a meteor shower tonight as well, because you occasionally catch a glimpse of a falling star soaring through the atmosphere. These are your favorite nights. The nights where the galaxy is so quiet and kind. The clear skies make for the most beautiful scenery. One of your favorite things to do, is find the constellations in the sky.

Many people do not care for the stars, but you always have. When you were little, you used to look up at the sky and make countless wishes for a better life. The sky held so many opportunities in your mind. Your mother always told you that when you wished upon a falling star, the wish would always come true. You just could not tell anyone about the wish. Ever since she told you that, you spent almost every night wishing and talking to the sky. Wishing for a better life, a life where you and your family could be free. A life where you could fly away with your mother and father, living on the most beautiful planet in the galaxy. You always wondered what was out there.

Tatooine had been your home planet for your whole life, but you knew there were greater places out there. It used to drive you crazy, knowing that you would never get to leave that damn planet. You come from a family of slaves. It was a given that you would always be a slave, and never get out of the lifestyle. Especially considering you were the only one left of your family. You had convinced yourself that your life would always be the same. That you would never leave that sandy planet and be doomed to work every waking minute until you died off from exhaustion. Until one day, a bounty hunter came barreling into your owner's cantina to take him in. You never would have imagined this bounty hunter would turn your whole world upside down. This bounty hunter, Din, has given you everything you could ever want and need in this life.

When he offered to let you be a crewmate on his ship, and help take care of his adorable little green sidekick, you didn't even hesitate before shaking his hand in agreement. The past few months with them have been nothing short of amazing. The kid has grown to be as one of your own. You love him more than anything, and you couldn't imagine life without him. His father has become a huge part of your life as well. You are now part of a small, happy family; a clan of three.

The memories of the past few months cause you to smile as you lay back in the grass. Din had parked the Crest here on Naboo in a secluded area for the next few days. A few days to take a short break from everything for just a moment. After catching a glimpse of the sky, you had decided tonight would be the perfect night to stargaze. Din was asleep in the ship, along with the baby. The hatch had been left open anyways, because you wanted to get some fresh air. You had tiptoed down the hatch to a small spot in the grass about 20 feet from the ship. A spot that was perfect enough to lay down in and have a good view of the sky.

The cool breeze whipped all around you, causing the long blades of grass to slowly dance in the wind. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers. Everything here was just perfect. This was most definitely your favorite planet of them all. It had a special beauty about it, something just different from the others. The greenery here was unlike any other you had ever seen. The place was almost too perfect to be true. If Heaven was a place, you imagined this is what it would be like; on Naboo... in the flower fields... baby on your hip, and Din right beside you.

"What are you doing out here? And... why are you laying on the ground?" You hear his modulated voice ring out from behind you. Glancing up as far as you can, you see his figure come into view standing right above you. The moonlight reflects off his beskar as he towers above you. He just stands there in silence. There is just something about his silence that makes him so... sexy.

"Stargazing," you reply with a smile on your face. "I thought you were sleeping?"

"I was... and then I saw you were missing and got worried." He replies.

A grunt comes out from under his helmet as he starts to lower himself down towards you. He pushes his knees back and puts his palms on either side of your head, his helmet barely two inches away from your nose. He hovers there, the two of you facing opposite directions, and butterflies begin filling your stomach. You reach up slowly and place your hands on either side of his helmet. The beskar is cool to the touch as you pull his head down gently. You plant a gentle kiss right on the top of his helmet where his forehead would be. A smile spreads across your face as you pull back to look into the black visor.

"Join me, shiny." You say softly.

"How could I say no to that?" He says with a light chuckle.

He slowly rolls over to the side and onto his back. With your bodies facing opposite directions, he lines his head up right to the side of yours. If he did not have the helmet on, his ear would be the only part of him touching you; or maybe some soft, curly hair. You have never seen it, of course, but you have felt it a few times. He has removed it before while you were blindfolded, to gain access to your lips with his. And oh Maker, his lips were the softest lips you had ever kissed. His hair the fluffiest hair you had ever ran your fingers through. Thinking about it sent shivers through your core.

"What are we looking at here?" He asks. His voice sends vibrations through the helmet, and it tickles your ear.

"Well, for one, I am looking for constellations. I am also talking to my good friend Ada up there." You reply with a giggle. Ada was a name you and your mother had given to a star when you were younger. It was a silly joke to you now, but it still held very sentimental value to you.

"Ada?" He questions.

"Yes. My good friend Ada. My mother used to tell me that the stars were our very good friends, and that they would grant us wishes. So, naturally, as a child, I truly believed the stars could hear me." You giggled before continuing. "One night, I decided to name one of them, because if that star was going to grant me a wish, it had to be a special friend of mine. I shared my thoughts with my mother, and we both decided Ada was a good name." A small smile comes across your face as your voice begins to fade. "It's silly now, but something about it still holds sentimental value to me... so I talk to Ada to this day. Especially when I miss my mother." A frown replaces your smile as a wave of sadness washes over your body.

He goes quiet for a moment. All you can hear is the two of you breathing, and the wind whipping through the night air.

"So... the stars are special beings to us?" He finally asks.

"Yeah...something like that. My mother told me that they were their own individual being, just like us. That a specific star picked us to grant our wishes. That one star spent its whole existence, to make us happy. Basically, that star is a very special presence in our lives, and it is the sole center of our happiness. Everything good we receive in this life comes from that star. So, I think that makes them pretty special." You reply as you turn your head to the side to glance at him.

He lays there for another few minutes in silence. The moon reflects off his visor as he looks up into the sky. Looking over at him sends a warm feeling through you. Does he know that he is the center of your whole existence?

His finger suddenly points up to the sky. "You see that big star right there?" He says softly.

Following his finger, you can tell which one he is talking about almost immediately. It is much bigger than all the others. It has a pink tint to it as well. Somehow, it is much more beautiful than any other star up there. It dances in unison with the others as you watch it, waiting for him to continue.

"It shines brighter than the rest. It's prettier too... looks like a pink tint to it." He continues. "That's Rose... I am naming it Rose." His helmet turns to the side as he looks at your face. "If I have to name it something because it is the source of my happiness... it is going to be named appropriately."

Warmth floods throughout your entire body. "Rose" That is the nickname he had given to you about two weeks after the two of you had met. He had found out it was your middle name, and decided he really liked the sound of it, so that is the name he has called you ever since. Tears well up in your eyes at his sentiment. He just named a star after you, for the sole purpose of getting his point across that you are the source of his happiness. Nothing makes you happier than knowing that you make him as happy as he makes you. That has become your sole purpose in life, to make him happy.

"Din... " You whisper. Not really knowing what to say, you give him a small smile in hopes he understands the depth of your feelings for him.

His body shifts as he pulls himself around and lays down directly beside you. He props his elbow up on his neck so that he can face you on his side. He looks so perfect in the moonlight, even if you cannot see an inch of his skin.

"My sweet, Rose." He breathes out as he reaches up. His thumb starts grazing the side of your cheek as you close your eyes. His thumb trails every feature of your face as he lets it explore. Din has been really big on touch ever since the first time you let him touch you. After years of being deprived from the feeling himself, he can't get enough of it. You feel the leather graze gently across your eyelashes and down your nose before landing on your lips. He gently pushes his thumb inward as he trails it across your bottom lip.

"Keep your eyes closed." You hear him say.

A puzzled expression crosses your face, but you do as he says. His hand leaves the side of your face, leaving it feeling bare. He shuffles around a moment before you feel his soft hand reach back up, uncovered. He took his gloves off. His hand snakes around to the side of your head and holds it firmly at the base of your neck. Before you can ask what he is doing, a soft pair of lips lightly connect with yours. Maker, he had taken off his helmet.

The thought of it startles you slightly as you jolt back a little, careful not to open your eyes. He had never taken it off before without having you blindfolded in some way. Did he really trust you this much? Deciding that you do not care, you lean forward, wanting to taste him once again.

Electricity sparks throughout your entire body as your lips collide with his. A light moan escapes your lips as you taste the sweet flavor of his lips. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to grant him entry. His hands reach up and firmly grab both of your cheeks to steady your mouth right where he wants it. He can do anything he wants. You are in the palm of his hands and he doesn't even know it.

His body suddenly shifts, and he rolls on top of you. He straddles your hips with his legs, and places his elbows down on either side of your head. His lips never leave yours as he smoothly makes the transition. Your fingers reach up and tangle themselves in soft, wavy hair. The kiss suddenly becomes desperate, the both of you taking as much as you can from one another.

You let out a soft moan and pull back. "Din..." You whine.

"Tell me what you want." He replies.

His body freezes while waiting for your response. He hovers over you, keeping his eyes trained on you. Not that you can see it, you can just feel when his eyes are on you. It sends a shiver through your body. His weight shifts on top of you as he slowly drags one hand down your stomach. Warmth begins to flood your center as his hand reaches your thigh. He grips it firmly before asking again.

"Use your words, Rose. Tell me what you want." He repeats.

His demeanor makes you shudder, it drives you up a wall when he gets like this. Letting out a shaky breath, you try to speak.

"Yo- you," is all you manage to squeak out.

That is all it takes for him to act. His fingers start to slowly make their way up to your center, which is already soaking wet. His fingers come up to the top of your pants, and start to tug them down. He takes his other hand and wraps it around the base of your back, lifting you up to help ease off your pants. With one swift movement, he yanks them down to your ankles, taking your underwear with them.

His fingers instantly start making there way back up the inside of your leg. A gasp escapes your lips as the anticipation begins building in your stomach. Instead of landing his fingers right where you want them, he skips over your center and makes his way to the base of your shirt. You try not to whine out in disappointment.

He lifts your shirt up and over your head in one swift movement. His other hand is still holding your body off the ground. Your body is gently lowered back to the ground as he sits himself up. The only thing you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling through the air.

"You're so beautiful, Rose." You hear him breathe out. His breath hitches in his throat as he brings his hands down to rest on your chest. His finger starts to trace the outline of your breast until he reaches the peak of your nipple.

"My beautiful girl," he continues.

He leans down slowly, and presses his lips to the top of your breast. He begins kissing all over every inch of your chest as gently as he can. His lips leave an electrifying feeling on your skin everywhere they touch.

After a few seconds, he starts to trail his kisses upwards until he reaches the top of your neck. He starts sucking and biting the side of your neck as his hand slowly makes its way back down your stomach.

Your thighs are already soaked from what little he has already done. You can feel the wetness dripping down the back of your upper legs.

His fingers finally make light contact with your center, and it almost causes you to scream. Your back arches into his touch as he pushes down onto your clit. He begins to rub slow, small circles around with his thumb as he continues to suck on your neck. There will be bruises there. He loves to leave his mark on you.

"You know you always look so good when I mark you up." He growls into your ear.

Your moans begin to ring throughout the air as he speeds up the circular motion on your clit. The sensation is almost overwhelming. His lips come up to your ear as he lets out a grunt.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this, cyar'ika?" He growls.

A whimper escapes your lips in response. His thumb stops almost instantly when you don't answer his question. It almost makes you cry out.

"Din... please," you beg.

He slides his fingers through your folds and slowly pushes into your entrance. It almost makes your eyes pop open, so you squeeze them even tighter so as not to accidentally open them. His thick fingers fill you up and stretch you open. He curves them up slightly, an pushes them against that sweet spot deep in your center. As soon as he finds the right spot, he begins to glide his fingers slowly in and out, making sure to hit that spot each time he glides across.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you arch your back. The sensation is overwhelming. Instead of seeing the actual stars, you are now seeing stars from the back of your eyelids as the pressure begins building in your lower stomach. The sensations cause you to start writhing beneath him. His hand comes down hard on your stomach and pushes you into the ground; forcing you to stop moving.

"Relax, sweet thing, just relax." He says as he pushes you into the ground.

"Din, please... I need you closer." You whine out.

His fingers suddenly pull out of you, leaving you feeling empty. The pressure in your stomach is almost unbearable at this point. He begins to shuffle around, and you are about to ask what he is doing until you feel his hard cock rub up against your inner thigh.

Maker, he's hard as a rock. He wastes no time lining up and pushing into you. He's so fucking thick. A loud gasp escapes your lips, and your body shoots forward. As if he knows what it would do to you, his other hand clamps over your eyes as they begin to open.

"Fucking perfect," He growls out. He starts to move at a slow pace, stretching you out as he does. "Maker... you're so- so ti- tight." He grunts.

His chest comes down to meet with yours as he continues to fuck you at a slow pace. Hand still clamped over your eyes, he brings his lips down to yours and kisses you hard. You moan into his mouth as you open it to let his tongue gain entry. He pulls back and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth as he lets go. His hand slides away from your eyes.

"Keep being good for me," He breathes out as he begins stroking your hair. His cock is ripping you open, but doing it so gently it almost makes you want to cry. His lips begin to leave small kisses all over every inch of your face.

"You feel incredible." He breathes out after he leaves a kiss on on the top of your eyelid.

He suddenly puts his hand under the arch of your back, and lifts you up into a sitting position. His cock is still inside of you when he settles you down onto his lap. The both of you are facing each other in a sitting position. You moan as you wrap your arms around his neck to gain some balance.

"Now be good, and start moving." He instructs.

You slowly start to move your hips and bounce on top of him. His cock hits you so much deeper at this angle, you have to squeeze your eyes really tight to keep from accidentally opening them. His hands are everywhere. Stroking your sides, cupping your breasts, scratching down your back... just everywhere.

"There you go sweet thing, just like that." He growls into your ear.

Your hips begin to stutter as you feel the pressure in your lower abdomen building. Desperate for the taste of him, you pull back and put your lips onto his. He moans into your mouth as he pulls you in close and locks his arms around your back. He pulls back from your mouth and moves his head down to your chest. His lips lock around around one of your nipples and he starts sucking. You throw your head back, letting out a loud moan. The pressure is building... building... building...

"Cum for me," He grunts into your ear.

That is all it takes. Stars begin to streak the back of your eyelids as you reach your peak. You let out a loud moan as you continue to bounce on his cock and ride out your high. Your fingers and toes begin to tingle, and you clamp down around his cock as you start to shudder.

Your pace starts to fade until you finally stop. You lean your head over onto his shoulder and sit on his lap for a moment, trying to regain your breath. His cock still inside you, he grabs your back and swings you back, pushing you into the dirt.

Without any warning he slams himself as deep into you as he can go. A strangled whimper escapes your lips as your nails dig into his back. He starts railing into you as hard as he possibly can. It feels like he is ripping you open, but in a good way.

"Feel so fucking good." He growls as he hammers into you. He continues giving you sweet praises as he chases his own high.

"My perfect girl... so fucking perfect." He starts to gasp and stutter as he praises you.

His hips begin to falter, as he gets close to his own orgasm. He leans over and bites down hard onto your shoulder as he begins to let out a soft moan. You can feel him emptying himself into you as he pants and gasps for air, filling you up to the brim.

He brings his lips to yours, and gives you a long kiss as you grab his cheeks with your hands to hold him steady. When he finally breaks away, the both of you just sit there for a moment, panting and gasping for air. His cock is starting to soften inside of you, but he is so thick, it doesn't fall out.

"Are you okay?" He says softly as he strokes your hair back from your eyes.

"I'm more than okay." You breathe out as a smile breaks out on your face. Your hands make their way to his face and begin to caress his cheeks. The both of you sit there for a moment, just feeling each other. He begins to say something, then stutters.

"Hmm? What did you say?" You ask as you stroke his hair.

"Ni... kar'tayl gar... darasuum." He finally says. Having no clue what he is saying, you let out a giggle.

"Din... what does that mean?"

"You'll know one day, my Rose." He replies. His body starts to roll off of you, and you can feel his cock slide out of you. It leaves an empty feeling in the pit of your core. A soft material covers your body as he wraps something around you. His cape. He fastens it at the neck, and continues with the task at hand. A few moments pass as you lay there, eyes still shut, waiting for him to give you the okay. A warmth has settled in over your body, and all you want to do is stay right here in this moment. A hand sweeps under you and you screech out as he lifts you into the air and into his chest.

"Okay, you can look" He says.

As you open your eyes, you can see that he has put his helmet back on, and has your clothes draped over his shoulder. He begins packing you back towards the Crest, when he stops so suddenly you think something is wrong.

"I know you, Rose." He says softly.

"And I know you" you say as you lift your hands and place them on either side of his helmet.

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #din djarin #soft din djarin #smut #fluff #mando x reader #mando #din and reader

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years

Text

long overdue

fandom: stranger things

characters: steve harrington

reader: gn

word count: 1.6k+

summary: you and steve have been friends since childhood and neither of you could ignore what you felt for each other. but it took some demogorgons for you to realize that

a/n: AHHHHHHH i’m so sorry if this is late ;^; school is really kicking my ass rn ;^; i hope you enjoy!

notes: some swearing; demogorgons

tagged by: @hyposstuffingwell

It was late at night and the breeze was chilly but that didn’t stop you or Steve from sneaking out. He picked you up a couple of blocks away from your house and the two of you drove away to the quarry, belting out Queen’s songs from inside the car.

Now here you were, sitting on top of the car’s hood as you look over the waters, talking over the most mundane things to the crazy events that took place last year. The moon glinted off the soft ripples of the water, causing silver streaks to float through the surface. The smell of damp grass reached your nose and an orchestra of cicadas serenaded whoever was present.

“I still can’t believe that you actually said that to Carol in fifth grade,” You guffawed, holding your belly as more laughs escape you.

“Hey— you thought the same thing!” Steve argues. “Her hair really looked like a bird’s nest.”

“Yeah but you don’t tell her that..!” You retort with a playful shove to his shoulder.

The brunet rolled his eyes at that, brushing back his gorgeous locks. He sighs and leaned against the car’s window, leaving you to your own musings. He eyes the various stars that twinkled against the dark blanket of the sky. He never really told many people this, not even the Party or he’ll never hear the end of it, but he was one of those people who just stared up into the night sky. He liked to take in the sights and smells around him and just enjoy what he had.

His gaze rolls over to you beside him, seeing you lying comfortably against his car’s window. The warm quilt you had brought along was laid neatly on top of your lap, eyes closed as you basked in the ambiance of the night.

At that moment Steve wondered- why did it take him so long to see this? Why did it have to take him supernatural beings, a group of kids, and a secret Russian infiltration paired with a gigantic demonic creature to work up the courage to realize what he had felt for you?

You two were neighbors, practically growing up together. You two were an unstoppable force as children, just the two of you against the world. But once high school rolled around- things changed. It was like you two became two different people. Maybe it was his fault, considering he was blinded by the popularity that managed to find its way to him, but that shouldn’t have stopped him from talking to you.

The brunet shakes himself out of his trance when he feels your hand casually slip in his, lacing your fingers with his and giving his palm a gentle squeeze. He looks up to see you gaze at him softly, almost as if you were contemplating something. He sits up when you do, hands never leaving yours.

“You brought your guitar right?” You ask and he nods. “I wanna hear you sing.”

Steve flushes a brighter shade of red and looks away bashfully. You whine and latch onto his arm, begging him to serenade you. He chuckles at your pleads, his free hand reaching up to run his hand through his hair in nervousness. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to play for you- he’d do it in a heartbeat. But he was scared that he’d mess up and look stupid in front of you- or worse, sing something that revealed his true feelings for you.

Fuck it. He thinks to himself. “Fine,” He relents and you cheer quietly. “Jeez- no matter what age we are you always manage to rope me into doing what you want.”

“You can say no, y’know.” You chide and playfully punch his shoulder, watching as he fetches his guitar from his car.

“I know. But I need the practice anyway.” He hops back onto the hood, reaching up to the neck of the guitar to tune it.

You watch fondly as he did so, memories of hanging out in his room and watching him play come flooding back to you. The sad, heavy wave of nostalgia washes over you at the memories, but you push that aside. You can recreate them again, right here and now.

Steve releases a nervous exhale and you rest a hand of comfort to his shoulder. You give him an encouraging smile, one that he reciprocates with gratitude, and starts to play. His fingers pluck at the strings gently- just some random notes to get the feel of it. He plays a jumble of notes, pretending to be in one of those rock bands and you laugh at his antics. Eventually, he stops messing around and the notes morph into something familiar- a song you heard on the radio many times.

“We’re talking away, I don't know what I'm to say. I'll say it anyway…” He sings softly.

You perked up when you recognized this iconic song. As he played into the night, you realized that it sounded so different when played this way- more romantic even. And you couldn’t help but feel a warmth bloom in your chest at the sight in front of you. Steve looked so lost in the music as he strummed away, singing along with the melody. He always had a talent for music, you just wish he recognized it.

“Take on me, take me on,” Steve looks up to you, shyly meeting your gaze. “I’ll be gone, in a day or two…”

He strums the rest of the chords, repeating it a couple of times before closing the song and letting the last notes echo into the air. It’s quiet for a while, just the two of you staring at each other as you let the atmosphere settle. Steve poured his heart out into the song and poured a little of what he thinks he feels for you so that you’d know how much you mean to him.

When the tension became unbearable, you spoke up. “I missed you, Steve.” You tell him softly.

“I missed you too, ______,” He replies with a sigh. He reached out to take your hand in his, thumb running over the back of it. “Look… I’m sorry for what happened back in high school… I was a jerk. Like- a jerk-jerk, the kind of jerk you want to just punch ‘cos he’s so self-absorbed and pathetic.”

You scoot over to him, gently taking the guitar and placing it back into the car. When you return, you reach up to cup his face, making the brunet turn to you. At your touch, his skin heats up with shame and he avoids your gaze. He couldn’t bear to look at you— it would just remind him of how neglectful he was as a friend.

His warm brown eyes are glassy with a pang of deep-seated guilt as he stared down at his lap. Your heart clenches at this. You knew that it was kind of his fault- he did turn you away when he became “King of Hawkins High,” but part of it was your fault too. You were so angry at him that you shunned him away whenever he tried approaching you- it was easier for you that way. Because at least, when you acted cold, the heartbreak you felt would be less painful than what it would have initially been.

“I’m not going to lie, you were that kind of a jerk,” You chuckle, thumb brushing the space under his eyes. “But it was my fault too… I gave you the cold shoulder and turned you away. And… I’m sorry for that- I should have listened to you when you tried to explain yourself…”

Steve let out some sort of amused huff. “...I guess we both fucked up big time huh?” His eyes drop down to your lips before flickering back up to your face where he finally met your gentle gaze. He dared to lean forward, pressing his forehead against yours while his trembling hands reached up to cup both your cheeks.

“What if… what if I kissed you right now?” He asks boldly, impulsively.

Your heartbeat speeds up at the question. You had already harbored feelings for your friend back then. Even though circumstances weren’t all that great before, that tiny vulnerable part you had for him never left. And with what happened with the Demogorgons, Billy, the Russians chasing after you (all that shared trauma as Murray Bauman puts it) it had only festered into what you have now.

“Here’s a better question,” You whisper. “What’s stopping you from doing so?”

Steve’s breath hitched when you actually gave him permission to kiss him. He blinks rapidly, almost as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming, before steeling his nerves and leaning forward to press his lips tentatively against yours.

The kiss was shy and hesitant at first. It was only when the both of you pulled away from each other did you two realize that you wanted something more. As your lips slot against his again, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your lips moved against his. Steve on the other hand wrapped an arm around your waist as the other came to cradle the back of your head, holding you as if you’d disappear any moment.

The kiss wasn’t sloppy or desperate- but it was passionate and full of unsaid emotions that could be better off expressed without the use of words. You pull your head away when the call for air was too great but made no move to shift out of Steve’s hold. You couldn’t help but smile at what had happened, the warmth in your chest growing and spreading throughout your whole body.

“That, that was long overdue.” You hum, eliciting a soft chuckle from Steve.

“Well,” He muses and tucks a stray hair behind your ear, kissing your forehead after. “Better late than never.”

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagines #fandomsonrequests

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Chapter 31

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It took very little time for Talltail to get completely lost. Frankly he had been so focused on the act of leaving his clan, he hadn’t given a lot of thought to his immediate course of action after the fact. He was not at all accustomed to navigating under heavy woodland, so he just kept going in what he assumed was roughly the correct direction of the twoleg place without thinking much about it. It was difficult to “think” clearly at all right then.

Talltail had found himself walking nonstop throughout the night, in such a state of shock that he’d actually done it. He was no longer a WindClan cat. He was a rogue. Rogue. He repeated it in his mind but it didn’t quite sound real. I suppose it doesn’t matter who I am. I am no one. Just a wanderer.

What did wanderers do? What was his day supposed to be without a clan to wake up to hunt for? Without duties? Without anyone to share news with? Unwelcome feelings of loneliness were already pricking at his pads. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, he had been going out of his way to be alone for moons. But the possibility was still there at least, cats always came to greet him anyway, even if it was often halfhearted. Now there was no one to look out for him, and no one he had to look out for. What a strange feeling it was.

Where in StarClan’s name was he now anyway? He’d turned east, where he hoped the twoleg town he’d heard about would be. Reena once said that’s where they were going to head to first, right? The best course of action was to avoid any clan territory on the way there but...he wasn’t sure what clan territory looked like beyond his own and the immediate borders. Past the gathering place...it was just a lot of stupid trees that all looked the same to him.

Talltail decided he would cross Fourtrees and follow the Thunderpath--at a safe distance. Surely it would lead to more twolegs. To his right was rich deciduous forest. That was...probably ThunderClan?

But eventually the Thunderpath stopped. The hard stone spread out in a small gravely clearing and went no further. He didn’t know where to go from there, so he just kept going forward. His head was somewhere else as he walked, still not quite comprehending that he was really doing this.

Talltail was only snapped back to focus when he realized the forest he walked in was too dark for the time of day. The sun had started to rise and the sky should have been getting lighter, but instead, shadows enveloped him. The air felt wet and moisture soaked into his fur from the damp earth. He looked around. Where was the path he’d left behind?

An unfortunately familiar sharp musky scent like a bog-drowned fox hit his tongue, making his lips curl. He couldn’t really have gotten turned onto ShadowClan territory, surely? Fur started to rise along his spine. He never wanted to be in this dark muggy forest, with or without enemy warriors. The undergrowth around him was so thick and disorienting, he could almost believe the kit stories of ShadowClan’s territory cursing trespassers to be lost forever in the thick of it.

Then there were voices. Talltail looked around desperately and thought about climbing a tree, but he had no experience with scaling trees at all. The dark scraggly bark looked daunting, and he feared the noise he’d make trying to scramble up it. Instead, he leaped into the bushes as pawsteps made their way through the dark.

“You think he came through here?” a rough voice growled. Stonetooth’s voice sent a mixture of anger and fear through his body. Had they scented him already?

“He said he was going hunting with Clawface. I saw him leave with Ashheart and Tanglepaw, and I know they’ve been coming this way.” That was Raggedpelt.

“This is far past where they should be taking hunting parties.”

“I’m sure they just got carried away--wait,” Raggedpelt paused. “Do you hear that?”

Talltail’s tail had lashed just once. He hadn’t laid eyes closely on Stonetooth since the day Brackenwing was killed.

It was foolish what he was thinking of doing. Unbelievably foolish. But in that moment he was so overcome with emotion remembering Brackenwing, limp and slowly bleeding out, all he wanted was to tear the old deputy apart. The violent urge surprised him. I wonder if this is how Shrewclaw felt all the time. No wonder he was so restless. He pondered on the feeling almost thoughtfully, and then Stonetooth caught his scent.

“That’s WindClan. I know it is.”

“Those scrawny tail-chasers wouldn’t dare come this far,” Raggedpelt growled. “Who’s there? Don’t think you can hide in our forest.”

They can’t think I was sent from WindClan to invade! Who knows how ShadowClan will retaliate against them for that?

Talltail couldn’t believe what he did next, but what choice was there?

��I’m not hiding," he said, surprised at how steady his voice was. “And I’m not WindClan either. My actions are my own.”

Raggedpelt blinked at him almost surprised, and Stonetooth snarled, “and your actions have been a grave mistake. No cat trespasses in our forest. I know who you are, if Heatherstar thinks sending you to spy--”

“No one sent me. I’ve left WindClan. They can attest to that themselves.” Talltail, for all his anger, knew he had to make sure they believed that. “If you're a rogue,” Raggedpelt sneared, “then I guess that means there’s no law protecting you, is there?” He looked to his deputy asking permission, Stonetooth nodded.

The world seemed to slow down for a moment. Raggedpelt crouched to spring. Talltail didn’t look at him, not breaking Stonetooth’s glare. He bounded over Raggedpelt, who yowled in surprise. Stonetooth seemingly hadn’t expected the pounce as Talltail piled into him and rolled the bony gray tom to the ground, spitting fury as he swiped hard at his face. He caught Stonetooth on the eye, who howled in rage and alarm as blood spurted from the open wound. Talltail’s claws were blunter than theirs, but that just made the puncture that much messier. He didn’t get more than one good swipe in before Raggedpelt’s claws were in his back, shoving him off balance, and teeth dug into his neck. Stonetooth struggled out from underneath him and snapped at his muzzle, gripping it hard in his teeth, his long front teeth leaving gashes down the side of his mouth. Talltail couldn’t manage more than a stifled yowl, as Raggedpelt continued tearing at his back.

But Stonetooth’s eye was bloody and useless. There was some dull pleasure in that. He felt like he was being torn at all sides, and remembered blearily that day the ShadowClan apprentices had pummeled him, and a similar wave of panic washed over him. These were trained warriors and their claws dug all the deeper. No one would help him this time. Shrewclaw had better at least appreciate me taking his eye.

He thought he heard Stonetooth growl something, and Raggedpelt’s grip suddenly loosened. Talltail sprang upward, taking the scarred warrior by surprise. With one last clumsy slash at Stonetooth’s muzzle, which the deputy dodged easily, Talltail tore away from them and ran. Even as he did so, even though he knew a moment longer and their longer needle sharp teeth would have pierced him through deep enough to be a killing blow, he regretted it. Maybe he should have fought to the end, for Brackenwing’s sake. But it wouldn’t have done any good. He was too weak on his own.

Adrenaline pressed Talltail forward, allowing him to ignore the wounds covering his face and neck and the warm feeling of blood soaking quickly through his short fur. He heard the two ShadowClan cats hard at his heels, snapping at his tail. If the ground was more open he would have outpaced them in a heartbeat, but he clumsily stumbled and scrambled over thick bushes and fallen logs that they had the agility to weave around with ease.

Eventually, somehow, the steps behind him died away. The trees thinned out. The forest he was in now was brighter, more open, and a sharp sour scent hung in the air, reminiscent of the Thunderpath stench. Maybe they let him go? He didn’t have time to ponder it.

Only when he stopped did he realize how hard it was to breathe. He was bleeding more than he thought and the warmth spread over his chest fur, stark crimson red against the white. Dirt and plant matter stung his wounds, but he was too exhausted and sore to bother with them right now. The sun had lightened the sky to a pale gray and the last stars were fading. It was a relief to see the sky again.

Talltail limped onward, his thoughts raging. He knew Stonetooth was not the cat he’d sought out to punish. StarClan could see and judge him. He felt a bit queasy at the memory of the deputy's eye under his claw, but at the same time a surge of satisfaction. It was less damage than Stonetooth himself had done, and Talltail didn’t regret it.

Wandering blindly through the woodland, the air was less humid and muggy in this part of the forest and he was at last confident that ShadowClan land had been behind. Talltail made his way up a shallow hill and then down into a ravine of fallen branches and dry scratchy undergrowth. It was uncomfortable, but maybe he could shelter here for a moment. The pain was getting the better of him and he hadn’t even stopped to lick his wounds. Just a short nap and then he’d continue…

He was already drifting the moment his eyes closed, and his hazy dreams began before he was fully asleep. He imagined he could hear growling under the earth and had the sudden feeling he was falling into it. In the dark of his subconscious, something whispered, You shouldn’t be here. A low, ominous creaking echoed in his ears, and he was overcome with a horrible desire to flee. Instantly Talltail forced himself awake with a gasp before the nightmare could go any deeper. He rolled himself to his paws, wincing as he forgot about the sharp dead sticks and thistles above him. The creaking came again from bony branches far above his head. Most of the trees here looked dead, some were unnaturally cut flat at the base, clearly altered by twolegs. Their branches looked like they could break and fall at any moment, but he’d been too exhausted to notice. Talltail had heard of ThunderClan and ShadowClan cats being killed by falling branches. It wasn’t just underground that a cat could be suddenly crushed.

The brief nightmare was still rattling through him, filling him with the desperate urge to run before something happened. He’d clearly gotten more skittish since setting out on his own. But for once, he was actually able to obey the voices he heard in his dreams, and get far away from this ravine. No rest. Not now.

How in StarClan’s name could any cat be content to live under so many trees, prone to breaking and falling in storms? Talltail thought. He missed the clear sky. He missed the unfettered fresh breeze.

Stars, he’d barely been gone a day and he already wanted to go back.

But you can’t, so stop whining! he hissed at himself.

As he continued to walk, pushing through thistles and tripping over dried bracken, his morose mood turned more sour by the minute. Would he be tormented with these dreams forever? I’m trying to do something, is it still not enough? Why, even when he was away from the ruined tunnels of the moor, did he still feel this sensation that angry dark eyes were glaring at his every move?

For a moment his tired frustration made him think, still better this then to actually have him following me and telling me what a disappointment I am out loud. Talltail winced at that little indignant voice, and quickly snuffed it out. How could he think that? How could that thought have even entered his head? It wasn’t better at all. What kind of cat was he to even have that thought in the first place?

Who cares what kind of cat I am anymore…? Yes, I’m certainly not good, I always knew that, and so did Sandstone. Now that he was away from camp, away from trying to keep up this charade, it was surprisingly easier to just settle into the resigned bitterness that he was a rather bad cat. A cat who was always going to fail his kin, and thank StarClan he’d at least had the sense to leave when he did. That was the last thing WindClan needed. He thought briefly of his dream at the Moonstone, of some creature built of rotting earth, tainting what it touched. Stumbling blindly around camp and leaving a mess where it went no matter what. A cat built of rot couldn’t simply...un-rot itself, right? That sickness was too deeply embedded.

Thankfully, it didn’t matter how he felt or what he thought anymore. A bad cat could still do something. Talltail imagined Dawnstripe would disapprove of him hungrily chasing after a fight. It wasn’t in line with how she’d taught him the warrior code. At least she wouldn’t have to know about it. The farther he got from home, the more distant he felt from the cat he’d once seen himself as.

But...What do I actually do when I find Sparrow? Should he just scare him? Attack him? Frightening him within an inch of his life and leaving some physical scars behind to make up for the ones he apparently lacked on his conscience might do it. But Talltail didn’t really know for sure what he was meant to do. It was hard to imagine that far ahead.

He expected his paws would guide him, and when the moment arrived, he would feel this clinging presence hanging over him tell him what to do. And this time, he would listen.

Ahead was straight edged structures, similar to the barn back home. For better or for worse, Talltail had arrived at what he could only imagine was twoleg territory. He limped onward, focusing on the burning anger rolling around inside rather than the horrible pain in his body.

Though he was relieved to have found something other than the aimless woods behind him, Talltail wondered blearily how much longer he could make himself walk. There was a flat stone area on the outskirts of a twoleg structure. Without the tree cover, the sun beat down mercilessly and burned the stone under his paws. The heat reminded him that he had nothing to drink for some time, and his throat was painfully dry enough to make him wheeze.

To his luck, along the edge of the Thunderpath stone, there seemed to be a puddle. Talltail almost jumped when he saw a dull, rusty monster some fox- lengths away. It was still, with no lights in its eyes. Maybe it was dead, or asleep. He crept as quietly as he could around it and sniffed at the smudgy stream of water that ran down the black stone, seeping into the dusty soil on the edge of the path. It was unlike any water or puddle he’d ever scented, acrid with monster stench but also strangely sickly sweet. If he wasn’t so desperate he’d look for something cleaner, but with no other option, he lapped up what he could stomach and continued towards the twoleg dens.

***

As the day went on, Talltail wandered hoping he might come across a helpful scent. He tried to shove himself through a prickly bunch of bushes and hissed in pain when the thick tendrils got caught on his fur and scraped at his injuries.

“Stupid bushes,” he snarled “let go!” He yanked himself free, taking a couple thorns and a new scratch along with him, but he was in no state of mind to pay attention. He was starting to feel a bit dizzy, although his instincts hadn’t taken him out of fight mode yet. It may have been the only thing keeping him upright.

The twoleg place smelled awful. Their large straight edged structures of what he assumed must be their dens were blocked off behind rows and rows of wood barriers. Dead trees by the smell of it, but he’d never known trees to die so neatly aligned and so flat. The twolegs really did have unfathomable ways of shaping things in their unnatural territory.

He sniffed the air in vain hope of seeking some familiar scents. As he stalked down the row of wood, cursing and probably leaving a thin trail of blood in his wake, he was aware of something watching him. Cat scent. Kittypets perhaps? There didn't seem to be anyone around. I don’t have time to deal with kittypets, he thought, and hoped the stories of them being too lazy to attack trespassers were true. Let them try to touch me, they’ll see what happens when they attack a warr...er, a cat trained to fight. The confidence of his thoughts made him feel a bit better, and let him ignore the fact he was really in no state to attack so much as a mouse.

Suddenly, there were voices whispering from above his head.

“I told you I wasn’t making it up, look at it!”

“You woke me up to look at a dog’s half eaten dinner? What is that?”

“It’s a cat isn’t it?”

“I thought it was a tall weasel.”

“Whatever it is, it’s hideous.”

“You don’t think it’s one of those monster cats that lives in the woods do you?”

Talltail glared upwards, and sure enough there were two pairs of curious amber eyes peeking over the edge of the wooden barrier. “It’s looking at us,” said a tortoiseshell.

“No it isn’t--oh it is,” said a pudgy brown tom with a disdainful sneer. “Hey! Stop looking into my garden. No strays allowed. Go bleed on someone else’s grass!”

“Excuse me?” Talltail felt himself growl. Who did this pet think he was?

“Tyr! Don’t get its attention, you moron!” hissed the tortoiseshell.

“I’m not afraid of common strays, if this even is a proper cat. If I yowl, the housefolk will come out and then he’ll be sorry.”

Is that supposed to be a threat? Talltail shouldn’t be bothering with kittypets, but this brat was getting under his skin really fast.

“Do you think he has a name? Do strays have names?”

“Of course I have a name mouse-brain,” Talltail spat. “It’s Tal…” for a moment he paused. His name was given to him by his clan, a mark of his becoming a warrior. But when he betrayed them... Was it right to keep anything that would mark him as a former clan cat?

“What kind of name is Tal?” the brown tom huffed. “Whatever or whoever you are, just don’t scratch up my fence!”

Talltail had had enough of this kittypets' attitude. “Worried about the fence are you? I’d worry more about keeping your whiskers!"

Fast as hare, he leapt forward and jumped up at the fence. He wasn’t going to actually climb up onto it, which he easily could have if he was in a better state, but the kittypets didn’t know that. He slammed against it, reaching up his claws so they glinted in the faint morning light and the two cats screeched and scampered off their perch. The one apparently called Tyr made good on his "threat" of yowling back to his twolegs. Talltail couldn’t help feel a glimmer of satisfaction as he dropped back down. It was too easy.

When he hit the ground again however, he wobbled on his paws and his vision became blurry for a moment. Why did that keep happening? He winced painfully as he tested his leg. There was a small smear of blood on the fence. That had been a really stupid thing to do, and a scabbed over cut was oozing blood again. He bit back a hiss of pain as he crouched to lick the wound. It was so frustrating.

“I don’t have time to bleed out like this. I have...to find...that awful rogue!” he wheezed.

Talltail was weak and bloody and still limping painfully. Where was he even going? He felt more nauseous by the second, and was aware of the blood that dripped from his chest fur. He recalled faintly something Briarpaw had told him once, that a cat could become sick and pass out if they lost too much blood. By the time that happened, it was unlikely that they could be saved. And that’s with a medicine cats care. Was he really bleeding that much, or was it simply exhaustion? He hadn’t eaten or drank anything other than that filthy sweet smelling water after all.

If he was thinking more clearly, perhaps he would have been terribly afraid. What happened to rogue cats when they died? Would anyone from home come looking for him? Would they find him like that, instantly dead after mere days on his own, fallen in filthy twoleg territory? Talltail growled as he stumbled on, as if he could simply will himself back to health. At last there was a gap in the tall wooden barrier, and he squeezed between the boards.

I might find it inside. I just have to find...I have to find it... Whatever he was trying to say to himself wasn’t clear. His thoughts were lost in a dense fog. Why was this happening? He sank to the ground, a sharp pain in his shoulders and legs shooting through him with every step. He tasted blood. Some cut in his mouth was bleeding heavily and he choked and sputtered as if he was sick. Then he really was sick, coughing up vile liquid and spit on the grass. There was nothing solid in his belly to throw up, but he heaved anyway, and colorful spots started dancing in his vision as he lost his sense of balance and found himself tumbled sideways onto the grass. What a pathetic way to die. You barely traveled for more than a day.

There was another voice from somewhere, but Talltail was in such a dreadful state he couldn’t tell if it was in his head or not.

He thought it might have said, “By all the stars! What happened to you?”

Briefly one thought calmly surfaced in his mind, Huh...That’s strange, it sounds so familiar but I can’t quite place it….

Then, he blacked out.

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#cw violence #canon typical violence #FRU31 #chapter 31 #MA theres a weird lookin stray cat outside

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ahatintimepieces · 4 years

Text

The Soul-Eater’s Sorrow

I was rereading @fedoraspooky‘s and @lovelycoris‘s weresnoodle rp to de-stress and then got story idea and I had to pen it to paper immediately so here we are! This takes place before Lukas has met Hattie and about a month after his first transformation, so he’s still getting the hang of his curse (4,767 words). Please enjoy!

Lukas stumbled towards the tree with unwieldy roots, exhausted after a particularly rough night and long morning of sequestering himself as deep into the woods as he dared. When he hurried to correct his footing, his bag jerked painfully against one of the gashes on his chest. He hissed, accidentally biting down onto his tongue with his fangs and once more the taste of iron pooled in his mouth. Trembling, he spat out the glob of blood and wiped at his lips with the back of his hand.

The guard’s anguished howl when Lukas’ jaws had clamped around his shoulder echoed in his mind. Lukas’ grip around his bag tightened.

No.

His chest, littered with wounds from the guard’s frantic silver blade during the fight from the night before, stung but not as much as the guilt when he recalled the man’s expression contorted by terror and how even the man’s mustache had trembled.

No, please. Stop thinking about it.

The guard’s partner had come running to his aid, yelling as she banged her sword against her shield to scare the serpentine shadow away. He recalled her words with crystal clarity despite not having been all there in his beast form.

“Get away you—!”

“Monster,” Lukas whispered out loud, his breath brushing against his fingertips.

The hushed forest didn’t respond to his despondent sigh. Instead, he dropped his bag off of his aching back and slid down against the tree. Leaning his head against one of the raised roots, he stared up at the sunlight trailing through the leaves.

He couldn’t stop playing the night over in his head. It had been a whole moon cycle since he first transformed and fled a frozen Subcon. But having sensed the new moon would have him at his worst again like that terrible night, he had done his best to remain far from the nearest town. He recalled how he had even caught a deer quite quickly after sunset and had a soul to soothe and ease his hunger.

But he still went towards the town.

Groaning, Lukas cupped his head in his hands. His long, disheveled hair fell around his features like a curtain and he curled his legs to his chest.

He remembered an orange glow from the lamps at the town’s gate. His beast form had been drawn to them. Did he think they were souls? No, he distinctly remembered the difference between a soul and a lamp. But both did feel warm…

Scratching a bit around the itching scabs, he tried to remain calm. He still had the later half of the afternoon, judging from the sun, and he had found a secluded spot far away from any people. This time he was sure of it.

The guard would be okay. While Lukas knew he left him with terrible wounds, the guard had access to help and medicine and would ultimately be alright. He was deep in the woods and there would be a sliver of moonlight. Not much, and he would still be dangerous, but he had to cling to anything that might help abate the curse a bit.

His arms trembled as he slowly unfurled. They, too, were covered in scratches from the guard’s sword but weren’t as bad as the ones on his chest. Coupled with the fatigue from not sleeping at all the past couple days, the painful transformations, and the lingering, gnawing anxiety of carrying a dormant beast inside of him that reared its ugly head every night, he was exhausted. Maybe that was good. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could sleep through the whole night. He had managed to ignore soul cravings closer to the full moon. Sure, he felt a little sick in the morning but…

A shudder ran down his spine as he thought about what it meant to eat souls. It felt worse than if he was just eating the meat of an animal. It was like he was devouring its feelings, its memories, and every part of it that knew love and sorrow.

And when he did, oh, the bliss. It didn’t taste like anything, but it felt like everything. The warmth from swallowing a soul felt like the hope that hitched in his chest when he looked at the moon as a human. The warmth he felt when Vanessa smiled at him and held him when her powers weren’t fluctuating. The warmth that kindled in his core when he remembered his mother’s gentle lullabies and how kindly she cupped his hand in hers when she led him through the castle. The warmth of his father’s laugh. The warmth of his brother’s doting whenever Lukas took a spill when they were children. Souls filled him with that kind of lightness, but each animal’s soul he had consumed burned with flickers of their own joys that flittered just outside of his understanding.

What kind of wretched creature needed to feed off others’ precious feelings to survive? The kind of wretched creature he had become. Apparently.

Lukas shook his head, gaze tracing the lines in his palms. He still wasn’t sure how this all happened, but he could still try to fix it. While eating souls soothed his beast form, he would just have to try and do without. Clenching his fist, he solidified his determination. He wouldn’t eat a soul that night. He would hold himself back. He would be under control. He would prove he was more than just a…

Just a monster.

Lukas pulled himself forward, his back and chest protesting. Reddish-brown curls momentarily blinded him, and he tucked unruly locks back as he reached into his bag. If he was going to try to avoid hunting that night, he would need to fill up. He had found a handful of berries and acorns. A meal fit for a bird but not a human. Or soul-eating monster for the matter. But it would have to do!

Trying to taper his large appetite by eating slowly, he grunted as he pushed to a stand. He had passed a river as he fled civilization and thought now would be a good moment to refill his canteen and see if he could scavenge for more food.

At the river, he drank his fill and even found another berry bush. His stomach grumbled over the lack of protein, but he tried to savor the sweetness of the berries. While he snacked and gazed at the gurgling water surging over polished rocks, he tried to sort through his plans.

Because he had no lead on what kind of curse had been put on him and where it came from, as he traveled from town to town, he had been checking scarcely filled libraries and even chanced a few conversations with merchants or travelers, asking about their journeys and trying to get a sense of what manner of creatures and curses they might have encountered. Unfortunately, the longer Lukas lived with the curse, the more tattered and tired he appeared, making it harder to earn trust from anyone.

Still, he clapped some leaves and stems from his hands, he had to persevere. He had to break this curse and return to Vanessa. He hoped… he hoped she was okay. He hoped she was somehow not alone. Certainly, she was doing alright! He just had to remain positive.

Splashing some water on his face, he shook his head and tried to wake up. He had to wait out the rest of the day and would sleep through the night. He could not harm a single soul. He could control himself. Once he accomplished that, he could make his way to the next town and search its archives for anything that might help. He wished he could have safely entered the community his beast form had found, and maybe find out how the guard was faring, but since he had terrorized them and they might be especially wary of strangers with such a creature around, he figured it was best for him to move on.

He returned to his bag and dropped down, pulling out a book to keep his mind alert and centered. But he paused. The patch of grass nestled between tree roots was currently bathed in golden sun. His eyelids grew heavy and his sore muscles relaxed in the toasty spotlight. Just for a moment, he chanced closing his eyes as he leaned back, hand on the book cover. He drifted into a much-needed nap.

Lukas snapped awake when the all too familiar feeling of swallowing something hot seared his insides.

“No, no, no!” he gasped, flying forward as he glanced down in the dark.

Shadowy patches of fur had already sprouted on his hands and his fingers were in the process of combining. He fumbled to untie his cloak, refusing to tear it to shreds as the seams of his shirt popped with his bones.

“Don’t eat,” he whispered frantically as he dropped onto changing knees. “Don’t eat. Don’t eat. Just sleep. Sleep—ah!” He cried out as his fangs thrust forward, pushing against and out of his upper lip. His claws clenched around soil and the sound of splitting fabric tore through his mental checklist he was desperate to commit to memory.

Sleep. Don’t eat. Just sleep.

His vision blurred and he felt his body lengthen and muscles stretch as a tail pushed out. His bones bent and realigned, lurching into a larger, ghastly shape. Lukas’ jaw cracked open and from it came an inhuman scream that howled through the trees. A flock of birds fled nearby treetops and Lukas panted, clenching claws into the ground while golden drool dripped from the edges of his mouth. A similar substance oozed from the re-opened cuts on his chest.

Night fully encased the forest and the beast’s golden eyes shone brighter than the barest shaving of moonlight and pinpricks of stars. Breathing heavily, the creature thrashed his tail with agitation as he glanced around, searching for a meal.

A white light, glowing like the gentle reflection of the moon on rippling water, hovered in the distance, beyond a grouping of trees. The creature’s eyes narrowed into slits. Flames licked the corners of his maw. Hunger gnawed at his insides and urged him to feast on the warm soul that would pacify his deep ache. He stilled, crouching into a position to get ready to lunge, but then fragments returned to his thoughts.

Don’t eat. The feelings behind the thought ached with a despair deeper than the pain gnawing his insides. The creature let out a confused growl, keeping his gaze locked onto the soul. He pawed at the ground, wanting to give chase but the feelings twisting his stomach were enough to give him pause. Pacing by the tree, the creature lifted a paw towards the soul, but the frantic thought shifted into a ghastly echo.

Monster!

The creature whined, shrinking back as he ached and hungered and hurt. His spiky mane flattened and the twisting feelings inside him urged him to turn around and try to sleep through the pain. He conceded. Curling up on a bed of grass and torn clothes, he laid down and gnawed on the tip of his tail. The chewing motion helped to dispel some of his anxious energy as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Though ignoring his insatiable hunger long enough to fall asleep was tricky, once the creature drifted, he was exhausted enough to sleep through the rest of the night. His claws clenched and he occasionally growled, dreaming of chasing something he wouldn’t remember when he woke up.

Finally, dawn peeked through the treetops and the creature stiffened. With a high-pitched groan, the beast gripped the ground as his body reverted back into human. Painful pops resounded from his bones and his tail withdrew.

While shadowy fluff melted back into skin and Lukas’ auburn locks draped across his naked back, he tried to crack open his eyelids, but the soft sunlight stung his slowly adjusting eyes. He croaked, turning his face into the dirt and pressing his forehead against the ground to ease the pressure building in his throbbing temples.

Everything hurt. Not in the way it usually did after a night adjacent to the new moon but in a way that left him feeling like his limbs were securely trapped underneath an Alpine goat. He needed to get up, to try and put on some clothes. But when he so much as pushed his quivering hands beneath his chest and tried to push himself up, a wave of dizziness and nausea crashed into him and he dropped back down, groaning.

Why did he feel like this? He thought back to the night before. The soul he had seen and his hunger returned with clarity. But then, so too, did he recall his hesitation to pursue the animal. A swell of relief pushed through the torrent of unpleasant symptoms he was experiencing.

He did it! He had been able to control the beast a little!

The euphoria was short lived as pain pulsed through his head and he grunted, lifting his arms over himself as he tried to block out the sunlight and press back the ache. Maybe… maybe he would just rest a little longer…

Too many wasted hours later, Lukas had managed to dress himself in his spare clothes. He was able to fight past the headache to have the foresight to salvage the larger pieces of his ruined outfit from the night before. His legs felt like jelly beneath him and while moving too fast caused his stomach to flip, he heaved his bag over his shoulder and pushed on. Carding his fingers through his knotted hair, he blinked at the sunlight pooling in through the leaves and tried to focus on his objectives.

Find town. Find books. Break the curse.

Usually he would have ‘find breakfast’ somewhere in there, and while he certainly was aware of how empty his stomach was, his hunger was buried underneath how sick he felt.

Ambling aimlessly, he soon found the path and an apple orchard across from the forest. His stomach twisted, begging for food, as he stared at bright, red apples glinting in the sunlight. Salivating at the thought of sinking his teeth into a sweet, plump looking apple, he quickly swallowed.

No. No. The curse had made him many things, but he wouldn’t stoop to thievery. He still had a little bit of coin he could use in town. Turning onto the path, he felt something dribble down his chin. He brushed the back of his hand across his lip and found he had started to drool. Sighing, he glanced towards the apples, which taunted him as they perched just beyond a fence.

A small part of him still hesitated, wanting to at the very least find the owner of the grove and pay for a meal. His stomach growled (or, wait, was it his stomach that had growled?) and he took a step forward.

The hunger-induced stupor he had been in dissipated as soon as he chomped into an apple. He hadn’t realized he had hopped the fence or plucked an apple from the branch but now that the fresh juice revitalized his tastebuds, he dug in unabashedly.

It was only after he practically inhaled the fruit that he realized he was surrounded by other apples stripped to the core. His heart leapt to his throat as he examined the suddenly barer looking apple tree.

Did—Did he eat all of those without realizing?

Dropping the apple core dripping in his hand, he eyed the scene of his crime and lamented that even if he did find the owner and try to pay for the pilfered meal, he probably couldn’t afford it. What was worse was he was still hungry…

Grimacing as he reached for one more apple, he heard footsteps and quickly pressed his back flush with the tree bark.

“Muriel!” A feminine voice called from deeper in the grove. “Young lady, you better not be in the forest!”

Forest? Lukas’ gaze shifted as he scanned the uncultivated trees he had just come from.

The woman yelling for Muriel crossed towards the opposite side of the grove and Lukas exhaled. Carefully holding the apple between his teeth, he clumsily hopped back over the fence and dropped onto the path. He felt a bit more coherent now that he had eaten and while he could have kept going into town, the idea of a child wandering alone in the woods didn’t sit well with him. He promised himself it would just be a quick look around.

When he spotted a small footprint in a patch of soil, he decided he would be dedicating far more time to looking for the young girl. Finishing his apple, he discarded the core and followed the direction of the footprint.

In a turn of events, she found him when he reached the winding tree he had camped at the night before.

“Ha!” A small blur of red plunged out of the treetops and landed in front of him, waving a stick.

“Goodness!” Lukas jumped back. Still not feeling one hundred percent from skipping out on a soul, his dizziness combined with his trembling legs tripped him up enough that he fell back with an “oof.”

“Oh.” The girl wrinkled her nose. “Who are you?”

“Lukas,” he wheezed. Catching his breath and knowing he wasn’t ready to try and stand again, he opted to just straighten his sore back as he held the girl’s gaze. “Are you, by any chance, Muriel?”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Maybe. Why?”

“I believe your mother is searching for you.” Sensing her distrust, he summoned a gentle smile to try and ease her concerns. He knew he probably looked terrible despite his efforts. “Would you like me to accompany you back to the orchard?”

“I don’t need help!” Muriel turned on her heels, crossing over to the tree and jumping up onto the roots.

“I’m sure you don’t.” Lukas pushed himself up, stretching out his back and exhaling as it popped, “But your mother was worried—”

“I don’t care!” she snapped. “I’m busy!”

Lukas tilted his head, watching as she started to climb the tree.

“Busy doing what? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m going to avenge the person who got mauled here!” she declared, scowling as she glanced down.

“Mauled?” He paled, thinking back. He hadn’t—Surely, he would remember—He couldn’t have in his beast form; he had slept the whole night! “What makes you think—”

“I found shredded clothes with blood on them.” Muriel lifted one of the remains of his shirt, a casualty of his transformation.

He sighed, wholeheartedly relieved.

“Oh no.” His mind whirled to come up with an explanation. “My deepest apologies for frightening you, but I camped out here last night and I suppose I accidentally left behind some… old… cloth I used for bandages.” He tried to conceal his wince at how poor an excuse he offered. Though he was still struggling with a headache and fatigue.

“You used a shirt?” Muriel catapulted from the tree and landed solidly in front of him. He jumped, reaching out on instinct in case she needed help, but she righted herself, brushing twigs from her scarlet tunic before crossing her arms. She crinkled her nose. “Are you homeless? And not the traveling-merchant-homeless but the pathetic kind?”

“Pa-pathetic?” Lukas bristled before slouching under her stare. “Well,” he admitted, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck, “there’s no shame in being a wandering vagabond, but I’ll be the first to concede there are others who undoubtedly function better than I.”

Muriel’s lips quirked into a mischievous smile.

“You looked like a wild animal eating our apples.”

Lukas stiffened, his cheeks burning brighter than his newly awakened fire magic.

“Apologies. I don’t—I don’t know what, erm, came over me,” he stammered, already embarrassed by his ravenous appetite even without anyone watching him.

“If you camped out here, didn’t you hear that howl?” Muriel’s brows narrowed.

He froze, thoughts careening as he remembered the pain.

“I—well—yes, I did, but—”

“You weren’t scared?” Muriel’s eyes widened.

“A little.” He slowly exhaled, trying to calm his nerves. Offering a nervous smile, he added, “but I survived.”

“Wow,” Muriel gave him an impressed look. “Then you can help me!” She motioned for him to follow.

“With what, exactly?” He remained in his spot. A quick glance towards the sky told him the afternoon sun was slowly creeping. He wondered if he could even make into town at this point.

“Hunting the serpent shadow!”

He paled.

“Muriel—”

“Call me Mu!”

“Mu, then,” he implored, “It’s much too dangerous to try to hunt the beast and your mother is worried.”

She paused, looking over her shoulder with a scowl.

“You don’t have the equipment,” he continued, fiddling with his bag strap. “And I certainly don’t have anything to subdue the creature…” He intended to keep listing reasons for why it was a bad idea to chase after the beast without giving away he was the beast, but his growling stomach interrupted him.

“You’re still hungry?” Mu blinked incredulously.

He winced, tightening his fingers around the strap.

“You are pretty scrawny,” Mu huffed, turning around and shifting her stick to her other hand. Before Lukas could protest, she took his hand and tugged him back towards the orchard. “I guess you can’t go monster hunting on an empty stomach, but I don’t know how your stomach can be empty after eating nearly a whole tree’s worth of apples.”

“Ah, I-I suppose you’re right,” Lukas said faintly, letting her guide him back.

He inwardly sighed as he realized he hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out how to break his curse. It was due in no small part to how ill he felt going without a soul, losing a whole morning as consequence. And, if Mu had heard him last night, even from the orchard, he was still far too close to others. What precious hours of daylight he had left would need to be used for putting distance between him and everyone.

If he was still this famished, he couldn’t imagine what the night would be like.

Soon enough, he and Mu reached the orchard again and there they found her mother, getting ready to head into the forest.

“Muriel!” Her mother dropped her bag before running up to Mu and enveloping her in a hug.

Lukas smiled, releasing Mu’s hand and stepping back on the path.

“Mom, stop!” Mu grumbled, pushing her away before pointing at Lukas. “I got lost and he helped me find my way back. We should feed him.”

“Ah, it was nothing so serious.” Lukas flushed. He saw what Mu was doing, but he really hadn’t done anything to help her and he really needed to be going. The way that her mother was eying him with suspicion also made him a bit nervous.

It wasn’t like he had looked at himself in the mirror lately, but if his appearance was anywhere near as terrible as he felt, he imagined he looked frightfully haggard.

“I actually need to be heading on my way,” he offered, wringing his hands a bit as he backed up on the path.

“What?” Mu pouted. “But we need to hunt the serpent shadow tonight!”

“Muriel!” Her mother frowned, protectively pulling her back with an exasperated sigh. “A witch hunter has already made it to town. Let them take care of it.”

While Lukas’ eyes widened, processing what that all entailed and how he needed to get as far away as possible for everyone’s safety and his, Mu’s mother turned to him with a defeated look.

“But it is dangerous out there.” Her features creased like she was trying not to grimace at Lukas’ appearance. “It would be cruel to make you fend for yourself while there’s a terrible monster out there.”

“I really must get going,” Lukas said, summoning a charming smile. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be alright.”

“If you don’t believe a beast is out there, it tried to torment the townspeople, and nearly killed my brother.” Her features darkened.

“Wh-what?” Lukas paled, digging his nails into his hands.

“Uncle’s captain of the guard at the town over!” Mu cut in. Her voice grew bitter as she explained, “the serpent shadow attacked just the other night, but it couldn’t have gotten too far! That’s why I was looking for it! I won’t let it hurt anyone else.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” Lukas breathed out, shoulders slumping. Guilt weighed him down as he remembered quite clearly the guard’s agonized screams and the taste of blood. Lukas’ features crumbled as he held the woman’s gaze. “Truly, I’m so sorry. Is your brother—” Okay? Healing? Not completely traumatized at the very least?

“The doctor says he’ll heal. Luckily, the gash isn’t infected, but,” the woman scowled, “I hope the witch hunter skins that monster before anyone else gets hurt or worst.”

Lukas swallowed thickly, only able to nod.

“Would you like to spend the night?” The woman softened. “I’d hate for you to get caught by the monster or wind up in a battle between it and the witch hunter.”

“I’ll probably find shelter in the town,” Lukas lied. “But thank you for your generosity.”

Mu tugged on her mom’s sleeve and she bent down, listening as Mu whispered in her ear.

“I suppose that would be alright.” Her mom ruffled her hair and Mu beamed before dashing off into the orchard, towards a house that could be glimpsed between the trees. “So, where exactly are you from?”

While Lukas numbly recited his cover story about coming from a town near Subcon and inwardly grimaced when the woman recalled hearing something about a terrible tragedy befalling Subcon Village. He hurried to change the subject, inquiring about the orchard as he tried to appear at ease while the sun moved through the sky, his back ached from standing still with his bag, and guilt chewed his insides. Finally, Mu returned with a cloth bag filled with jars of pale amber-colored apple jam and fresh bread. The jars had mustaches painted onto them.

“Here you go!” Mu shoved the bag into him, and he fumbled to grasp it, eyes wide at the heft.

“I couldn’t possibly accept this.” He gave them both a wide-eyed look while biting the inside of his cheek. His fang pressed painfully into it.

“You brought my mischief-maker back. It’s the least I can do.” The woman shrugged before bending down and scooping up Mu. Mu squealed as her mom tickled her sides and that only encouraged her mom to blow an affectionate raspberry near her cheek. Giggling, Mu swatted her mom away, though she seemed comfortable in her mother’s embrace.

“Thank you,” Lukas whispered, knowing he didn’t deserve it, especially after what he had done… But the bread did smell tantalizing and the idea of eating jam with it was too rare a treat to pass up. He hugged the bag to his chest, still itching with scabs, and dipped his head. “I better be going, but I really do appreciate this, and I hope your brother recovers swiftly.”

Please let him recover swiftly.

“You better get into town.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Before the beast tries anything again.”

“You can come back tomorrow and help me with chores!” Mu called as Lukas started down the path, waving.

“If I’m able,” Lukas returned noncommittally. “Please take care.”

Please forgive me.

Mu and her mother waved as he left, heading down the path until he was out of sight and then immediately changing direction. After tucking the bread and jam into his own bag, he groaned lightly as he heaved the more cumbersome weight over his shoulders. The jam jars clinked lightly, and he ran a hand through his tangled hair.

He needed to run. If the witch hunter had plans to search the forest, it would not be safe in the slightest, and after how awful he felt from not hunting for a soul, he didn’t think he could keep his beast form from feeding that night and he did not want to chance being too close to others in that state.

He couldn’t hurt anyone again.

Lukas pushed on, weaving through the forest, crossing the river, and hiking ever deeper into isolation. He would ensure that he wouldn’t hurt anyone again.

#a hat in time #fedoraspooky #lovelycoris #weresnoodle au #ahit weresnoodle au #ahit prince #ahit mustache girl #my writing #blood #painful transformation #i love..... the weresnoodle..... very much.......#also the guard is one hundred percent the mafia boss i thought it'd be funny #also right now Mu and Lukas are best friends in her mind but if she finds out about his curse #the friendship meter will crash down into the negatives like in the video game that's the vibe im going for #i got nothing else but Y'ALL SHOULD CHECK OUT THE RP IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY \O/#seriously it's so good and cheers my heart so often and is one of my favorite ways to unwind #just so much love..... for this au ;~; <3333333333333333

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bittercoldbrew · 4 years

Text

Okay, so technically To Build Something New is complete and finished and I’m totally not even supposed to be working on it anymore, but this has been a shitty week and I decided to write a little something sweet and then I sort of got....carried away........ So yeah anyway, here’s a little over 4k of Ezra x f!OC, a sorta kinda epilogue to Build Something but I tried to leave things vague so it could also just be read as a standalone. No warnings, just an embarrassing amount of fluff. Enjoy! (pssst, also, I ended up writing a follow-up to this, which you can find here)

Sleep has never come easily to him. Even as a child, Ezra remembers being plagued with nightmares so often and for so long that he wouldn’t even bother waking his worn and weary parents, would simply fetch himself a cup of water from the kitchen and flip through his favorite books, gazing at the pictures and tracing fingers over words he couldn’t yet read, until sleep finally returned to him.

The woman in bed beside him is no stranger to such restlessness, and certainly is no distant, frightful parent best left unbothered. If he were to reach out a hand to her shoulder, if he were to call her name, he knows that she would wake willingly, eager to help him talk his way out of whatever trouble his overactive mind has conjured, or to simply sit with him in silence until the tension passed; she would give him whatever he needs, even if he himself doesn't know what that is just yet. It is no lack of love, given or received, that stills his hand and shuts his mouth, but rather an abundance.

Her thoughts are scarcely any kinder to her sleep schedule than his, and these past few months since her parents came and tried to upend the life she's built have not been easy ones. She certainly owes as profound a debt to the god of sleep as he does, and he simply cannot bring himself to disturb her now that she's begun to repay it.

With a sigh, he eases himself out from under her arm and up from the bed, moving slow and careful, as quiet as he can manage, trying not to feel too guilty at the sad, soft noise she makes and the way she curls her arm back into herself with the loss. Some nights, he’s more than content to lay awake beside her even if sleep never decides to make another appearance, grateful for her presence, trying and failing, always, to twist and turn his thoughts into a shape that will allow him to believe this luck that has brought him to her side. But tonight he just needs...to stretch his legs, to move his body, to remind himself that it is, still, somehow, his body, despite all that it has lost. Despite all that it has found.

He moves to the bathroom, passes through it out into the hall, hoping the added distance will prevent the sound of the door from waking the woman asleep in the bed they share. In the darkness, in the quiet, he runs a hand over his face, grounding himself with the familiar sensation of the planes and slopes of his own features. Still his face. Still his hand, even if he only has the one of them, now.

It seems instinctual, the way his feet carry him to the door across the hall, the way his ear finds itself pressed to the cool wood. He won’t bother her, won’t risk disturbing the sleep of the teenager inside, but the low whisper of the white noise machine that he can hear is enough of a comfort. Cee adjusted to planet life far faster and more completely than he has yet to manage; but even though the members of this little family all came from such disparate backgrounds, they are bound together by the act of having chosen one another, as well as by their shared insomnolent tendencies. The teenager needs this facsimile of the rumble of a ship’s engines to be able to achieve anything like sleep. Ezra himself has attempted the same, but found the noise only gave his brain something to latch onto, a reason to stay wakeful and wary, a stark contrast to its intended purpose.

Hearing hers, though, is reassurance enough that the girl is having a better night’s rest than he is, and he is grateful for that small blessing as he leans away from the door and sidles down the hallway on quiet, bare feet, mindful of all the places that creak, mapped out in his muscle memory over the course of many such nights. He crosses the front room, passes through the kitchen, until finally he steps out onto the back porch and into the cold, clear night.

The sky out here, so far from the city center, is resplendent in its beauty, a breathtaking array of stars and galaxies. Despite his many far-flung travels, there are still so many worlds to visit, still so much to see, and he will never grow weary of the sight.

It's a little too cold for stargazing, especially dressed as he is in nothing more than a patched and faded pair of boxers; but the way the air prickles against his skin and in his lungs feels almost refreshing, for now at least. It makes his racing thoughts feel sluggish, and that is certainly worth a little chill.

Sighing, he steps forward and leans against the railing, letting his eyes trace out distant constellations and star systems, scrolling through his mental catalogue of those he's visited and those he has yet to. He's picking out the faint whorl of the Ephrate when he hears the door slide open, and a sweet and sleepy voice asks, "Ezra..?"

He should have known his absence would be enough to wake her. The woman he loves is the galaxy’s most notorious blanket thief, after all; even now, the evidence of her crimes is wrapped around her like a cloak, the excess fabric bunched in her hands and clutched against her collar. Often, it’s only the warmth of his body in the bed beside her that keeps her from descending into wanton lawlessness—or, at the very least, a sleeplessness of her own. It is a rare night indeed that he can leave her side for much longer than it takes to visit the bathroom and return, before the chill is enough to wake her.

She steps forward, head down, eyes scarcely open and only to keep herself from tripping over the blanket as she draws near and leans her body heavily against his. He wraps his arm around her back and does his best to hug her close with only the one, trying not to feel so profoundly guilty at the thought of how difficult it must be for her to sleep when he’s gone so long for work.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into her hair—an apology for tonight, and also for all those nights she spends without him.

But she only shakes her head, resting her cheek against his bare chest, just below his collarbone. She stands so tall and imperious in his mind’s eye that he forgets, sometimes, how little she is, and he is grateful for moments like these to remind him.

Her voice is thick with sleep, her breath warm against his skin, as she asks, simply, “Chocolate?”

He sighs and holds her closer, wondering if he knows a single word that might be able to encapsulate how it feels to be loved by her. Beloved feels too pedestrian, too obvious. Cherished, maybe. Harbored.

He needs to consider the possibilities more carefully, but later. For now, he merely shakes his head, begrudgingly declining her generous offer. “No, I’m alright. Just needed a minute, clear my head.”

She hums softly, and the gentle vibration of it against his chest feels planet-shaking in this quiet night. “Already put it on,” she admits slowly, sounding only marginally more awake than a moment ago. “Drink some anyway?”

Sustained? Is that the word? “With you? Of course.”

The wordless noise she makes in response is pleased, contented, and for several long, precious moments she merely rests against him and lets him hold her in the dark, unhurried and unafraid in his presence.

She’s so still for so long that he notices the slight movement of her cheek, the twitch that means she’s had to blink away a notification from her optical implant, the timer she must have set for the milk warming on the stove.

“I’ll get it—” he starts to offer, eager for some way to repay her kindness, but she moves quicker than he imagined she’d be capable of right now, pulling away and whirling the blanket off her shoulders and around his with a flourish.

“No,” she declares, in that tone of voice that always makes his brain go silent and his body stand to attention, willing to do whatever she requires of him without question. But the only order she gives is, “Keep this warm for me,” passing the corners of the fabric into his grasp, and he is certain to obey as she turns and heads back inside to the kitchen.

With a sigh, Ezra takes a step back and rests against the wall of the house, hiking the blanket up a little higher as he waits for her return. He finds himself wishing Aphelia had a moon, something to make the nights a little brighter than this; the lack gives them such a clear, glorious view of all the stars and a few of the other planets in this system, so he supposes he shouldn’t complain. But it would be nice to be able to see the garden from here, to make out what birds those are calling such sweet songs among the trees at the edge of the property, to better decipher the nuance of his partner’s expression when she steps back outside a few minutes later with two mugs of cocoa in her hands.

It requires a good deal of shuffling and muttered apologies, but eventually they find themselves sitting together on the floor of the porch, propped against the wall, the blanket drawn across them both, sheltering them from the chill of metal sheeting at their backs. She is nestled at his side beneath what remains of his right arm, and she rests her head on his shoulder as they both lift mugs to their lips.

He makes an indisputably better cup of coffee—mainly because she is too impatient in the morning, content to throw a packet of bland, dehydrated nonsense into hot water if it means she can be caffeinated quicker, only willing to wait for something better if it’s Ezra who does the brewing. But her hot chocolate is a wonder, a marvel, worthy of all possible veneration, and even though he’s watched her make it time and time again, he has never managed to determine what it is she does to make it so spectacular. The beverage in his hand tonight is perfectly warm, nutty and aromatic, decadent and sweet without being cloying, with just a hint of spice. One sip, and he can feel whatever this restlessness is that’s been holding him in its vice begin to ebb away into a gentle sleepiness.

“Thank you, starlight,” he sighs, and he hopes she knows that he means all of it—not just for the chocolate, but for the blanket and the company and the understanding, for her willingness to love him with this love that encompasses all of his very many faults rather than existing in spite of them.

She doesn’t say anything in response, simply turns her head and presses a feather-light kiss to the side of his neck, and he feels certain that she does know. Especially when she turns back, and gestures with her mug in the direction of the sky. “It’s a hell of a view. Thanks for not letting me miss it.”

His breath leaves him in a rush, and he rests his cheek against the top of her head, feeling bowled over by his affection for her. That hadn’t remotely been his intention, and even if he had merely wanted her to see the stars, she could get just as lovely a view from bed, through the skylight, without having to shiver out here on the cold floor with him. But he loves that she would offer this pretense, that she would look at something he’d done to stave off his idiotic insomnia and turn it into an experience for the two of them to share.

Transformed, perhaps, is what her love makes him. Because he isn’t entirely sure who this man is that he’s become, or where all this sappiness came from. He certainly had no need for it on the Green, nor in any part of his life before he first answered the siren song of aurelac.

If he’s honest with himself, though, he’d begun to see the first signs of it before he even met her, before he endured the loss of his dominant arm and thus found himself needing to rely, from time to time, upon the kindness of others. He’d noticed it in his unwillingness to leave Number Two behind after the rest of the crew split and ran; and then again when he’d first met Cee, when she’d used up the single capacitor of that old Boscelot rifle and he, who had killed so very many times before, had been wholly unable to throw a shot her way.

His lover had seen right through him from the first, had detected those loose threads in his psyche, those barest hints of a gentleness he’d long stifled. She had tugged and pulled them loose, had unraveled the cold and unfeeling shell that he constructed around himself, until all that was left was just...him. Minus an arm, and a good portion of his dignity, and any belief he’d once had in his ability to command his own fate.

And she had looked at whatever was leftover after all that loss, and had chosen to love him anyway.

“Oh, look,” she gasps, and he straightens up and follows her gaze, finding the trail of light streaking up from the horizon, a distant ship clearing the atmosphere.

“Leaving from the 12th Sector docks, I reckon,” he tells her absently, his brain automatically calculating the distance and direction for him while he simply takes a long draught of his quickly-cooling cocoa. “Where d’you think they’re headed?”

She hums thoughtfully, brow creasing in thought, her eyes tracing the arc of their ascent and extending upward. He’s been trying to teach her and the kid—trying to not be a pedantic asshole about it—how to find landmarks in the night sky, how to navigate by constellations and planets and stations. Mostly, he’s just trying to teach them how to keep themselves safe if, Kevva forbid, he ever isn’t around to do the job. Not that he thinks them lacking in competence—each of his girls is cleverer than him by half, he knows that, and together they leave him in the dust. But this, at least, is a skill of his that they do not share, and he hopes to impart a little something of it, just in case they ever need it.

“From 12, at that angle, this late in the year...” she says slowly, thinking aloud. “I bet they’re headed for the Pug.”

“I bet you’re right,” he agrees, grinning. “Do you see it?”

She narrows her eyes, an adorable little pout to her lips as she looks for it; her natural eye’s a little farsighted, but her implant is designed for close work and magnification, and he knows that discrepancy means this sort of thing doesn’t come easy for her. But that just makes it all the sweeter, when she gasps and smiles and points and says, “There it is.”

He just sits there, staring at her and the way the starlight dances in her eyes and highlights the lines of her face, for so long that she turns to him with a curious—and then bashful—look on her face.

“Hey,” she scolds, nudging him with her elbow. “Tell me I’m right.”

“You’re right,” he says automatically, and she scoffs and elbows him again. With a laugh, he tears his gaze from her and turns to look. “Sorry, sorry. Show me again?”

She does so, and he leans in close, following the line of her arm and her outstretched finger to the familiar, pulsing glow of Puggart’s Bench. “There?”

He dips his head, presses a kiss to the skin of her arm, just past the end of the short sleeve of her sleep shirt (one of his shirts, initially, though at this point she doesn’t sleep in anything else and he’d be offended if she did). “Perfect,” he tells her—because she’s correct, yes, but also because she is perfect, in his estimation.

She smiles in a way that makes him think she understands his double meaning, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says, and kisses her, and her mouth tastes like chocolate, and he doesn’t imagine there’s anything better in all the universe.

But then she lifts a hand to curl along his jaw and the tips of her fingers are like ice, and he pulls back in surprise and sets his mug carefully aside so he can grab her hand and hold it in front of his mouth and breathe a little heat against her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were freezing, baby?”

"I'm not," she argues, even as she curls closer into the warmth of his body and tugs the blanket tighter around her shoulders, because she is, at her core, a woman of unmitigated stubbornness. "My hands are just always cold."

"Not this cold," he huffs, clenching the offending fingers in his own. "We should get you inside."

She shakes her head sternly. "I can stay out here as long as you want me to."

She has told him this before, way back when they scarcely even knew each other. Then, as now, she had been struggling to keep her eyes open. Then, as now, he had known she meant every word.

"What I want," he tells her, turning to kiss her temple, speaking the words into her skin, "is to hold you in bed for a while."

If he's honest, that's all he ever seems to want these days.

She smiles, and nods toward his mug, reaching for her own. "Finish your cocoa, first," she says, as though that is the entire reason they're out here.

And he does—because it's delicious and he doesn't want to waste it; because it's what she told him to do.

He would give her his left arm, the only one he has remaining, if she told him to.

They sit there, quiet and close, while he finishes his drink and waits patiently as she finishes hers. Then, leaning on each other for support, they make their way to their feet and back inside the house. He keeps the blanket around his body as she rinses their empty mugs and leaves them in the sink, then trails along behind her as she leads him back to their room.

Together they spread the blanket back overtop of the bed, tucking it in at the foot even though they both know she’ll have managed to drag it to her side by morning. Smiling at the thought, Ezra pulls up the covers and gets in, instinctively turning over on his right to reach for her—but she isn’t there yet, still standing next to the bed, watching him. It’s too dark to really make out her expression, but he can feel her eyes on him. “Baby?”

She doesn’t speak, just goes and walks around the bed. He turns, twisting at the waist to watch her as she lifts up the covers and...slips in behind him. She puts her arm around his chest, twines her legs with his, moves her free hand up to bury her fingers in his hair and scritch lightly against his scalp, and he groans out her name and all but melts back into her soft body.

“Is this okay?” she asks after a moment, her breath fanning against the back of his neck. He wants to answer, to tell her this is so, so much better than merely okay, but his chest has gone so tight that all the air in his lungs seems to have lodged in his throat instead. He settles for a nod, the drag of her short fingernails on the back of his head just delicious with the movement, and he knows she must be tired and will need to be asleep soon but he wishes she never had to stop.

“I know you said you wanted to hold me,” she murmurs, her voice so soft and sweet, “but I thought this might be...nice.”

“I...” he starts—or tries to, but his voice falters, and all the words he typically can rely on appear to have fled him. “Yes,” he sighs simply. “It’s very nice.”

“Good.” Her lips press a delicate kiss to his shoulder, and his breath leaves him with more of a shudder than he’d intended. “You gonna be able to sleep?”

He covers her hand with his and draws it up higher along his chest, where her fingers gently trace the line of scar tissue just below his sternum. “I hope so,” is the best answer he can offer, because even though he feels so fucking good being held by her like this and even though he can feel the exhaustion tugging him even deeper into the mattress, he knows better than to count on his mind to be cooperative.

She hums softly, and he can feel the bridge of her nose and the curve of her forehead against the skin of his back as she presses her face against him, settling in. “Okay,” she breathes, and he can tell she’s nearly asleep again already, can merely hope he’ll join her shortly. “Wake me if you get up again, okay?”

“You have work in the morning,” he reminds her, squeezing her hand, already feeling guilty for disrupting her rest as much as he has. His schedule isn’t nearly so demanding—he could stay in bed all day if he needs to, could make up the hours some other time—but she has people who rely on her, people who aren’t him.

But she just clicks her tongue against her teeth dismissively, shakes her head. Her fingers leave his hair for a dreadful moment, but only so she can reach down and tug the covers up higher (already beginning her nightly larceny, though she’s pressed so close to him that Ezra, too, may get to benefit from it tonight). “I’d rather be tired at work than not know where you are.”

It’s a simple thing to say, but he knows how much she means by it. He’s well aware of the anxieties that plague her, of the way she worries when he’s gone, of how his job and its need to drag him far away from her for long stretches of time wears at her until he’s with her again. As much as he wishes he could make all of that go away, wishes he could offer her a gentler life than this one, he knows such a thing isn’t really possible out here in the Fringe, knows they’ve come much closer than most. Still, at least he can offer her this.

He picks up her hand and lifts it to his lips, presses kisses to her smooth, soft skin. “Go to sleep, starlight. I’m not going anywhere.”

“‘Kay,” she murmurs sleepily, and he can feel her smile against his back as she shifts around, tightening her arm around him, hugging him close. “Love you, Ez.”

“Love you too, sweet girl.”

In the morning, when she wakes, he is going to make her the best goddamn cup of coffee she’s ever tasted. He will swaddle her in blankets, will weight her down with so many of them she can’t ever leave their bed, she’ll have to just stay in it with him forever. He wonders how inappropriate it would be for him to ask Cee if she would spend the night at a friend’s tomorrow, because when this woman gets home from work he’s going to need to lavish every inch of her body with affection, to prove to her again and again and again how desperately he loves her, how thoroughly he needs her, and he doesn’t imagine he’ll be able to be quiet about it even with the kid home.

It’s in these last lucid moments before sleep finally pulls him under that he realizes this night, this moment, this blissful press of her body along the length of his own with her arm curled possessively around his torso is exactly the word he's been looking for. Maybe it really is as simple as that: she makes him feel held.

#listen you will have to pry little spoon ezra from my cold dead hands #someone please give this man a hug #ezra prospect x oc #ezra prospect x reader #oc tess stone #ezra why are you so fucking difficult to write bby #to build something new #my writing

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hesther-mcg · 4 years

Text

chained

➥ pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

➥ summary: the one where two people are chained to one another, hopelessly in love but every bit of wrong for one another

➥ rating: angst, song fic, biker!bucky au

➥ warnings: explicit language, mentions of toxic relationship

➥ a/n: happy valentines day! in the name of irony i’m going to post this today, bc i can. this has been rattling around in my noggin for a bit now and i actually rlly like this. i hope u do too. i highly recommend listening to the song while reading, its also available on spotify.

chained :: elle king ft. cameron neal chained marvel m. list

We can run away, but we can’t hide for long

And all that lingers harms us

She’d tried it—moving houses, running away from the problems she was used to, changing things. She’d already tried it, and it had worked beautifully at first. The high of being in a new place, a place all to themselves, it was wonderful. And it had brought out the man she had started to believe was gone, the man she’d loved for so many suns and so many moons; years of her life having been spent growing alongside him, and she felt nothing short of complete satisfaction.

“Thanks for running away with me,” she’d whispered to him in the late hours of the night, head rested on his bare chest and his calloused hand running up and down over the delicate skin of her back.

“I’ll go wherever you want me to, babe,” was his promise, spoken softly into the dark with a tenderness reserved for her heart and ears only.

But all good things came to an end, and her life had brought truth to that statement. Things settled, routines came back and everything that lingered became visible. The issues that remained, the unspoken anger and unresolved conflicts rearing their ugly heads once again. She’d tried to pack up her life and her love and run away, but she was learning that she couldn’t hide for long.

I can lie to you, but the truth comes alive

Every time I die saying goodbye

Everything was a slow progression, the honeymoon phase wearing off slowly but surely; the conflicts creeping in where they weren’t welcomed. Again, everything was fine at first, they seemed to move as a team and it filled her heart with a warmth almost indescribable—they were so much of the same mind, in her eyes.

But then things drifted off course, the scales tipped in every which way except balanced—right where she wanted, and irritation grew to be the default when she saw his hands reach for the motorcycle keys. Betrayal became the default when she looked away from him and nodded her head, giving a flat and unconvincing ‘I’m okay,’ or ‘have fun.’ Hurt became the default when she bit her tongue until her mouth filled with the taste of crimson copper and her sobs shook her entire body, the sound of a roaring motorcycle engine filling the house.

She could lie, but he always knew. They had their problems, they battled through their conflicts, but they were still positive and negative forces magnetically pulling the other closer, two links in a chain stuck together for eternity.

Cause I don’t want to change

but I can’t stay this way

Love was a lot of things; sometimes she thought of it as something warm and familiar and safe, and other times she was convinced it was the chain that kept her around. She loved him, god damnit did she love James Barnes, but she knew that she was nearing her limit. Her heart could only take so much before she’d lose herself completely, and then she was done for beyond that point. Forever damaged; irreparable.

When Y/N thought about a life where she was on her own, miles upon miles away from the man she only wanted love and comfort from, her chest felt similar to how she imagined a sinkhole made the earth feel. The memories they shared, the laughs and the cries and the endless fun, it would forever haunt her if she were to leave—but one could argue that they already haunted her, already plagued her thoughts and dreams and every second she was breathing.

“What do you want?!” He’d screamed when she’d brought up her concerns, arms raised in the air and brows furrowed.

“Things can’t stay this way, James,” she’d stressed, fingers knotting her hair as they frantically ran through the strands.

And I don’t even mind staying chained, and thinking of you

Thinking of you

“What if I don’t wanna change?”

The breath had caught in her throat at his words, heart sinking to the pits of her stomach as her teary eyes bore into his, his figure blurry but radiating frustration.

“Then I’ll leave,” she threatened, the words burning her mouth as she spoke them. “I love you but I won’t let that stop me.”

But she always did—when he crawled into bed with slow movements and gentle hands, words soft, sweet, and oh so guilty. Apologies and false promises, admissions of love and sweet nothings, it mended her heart for the time being and she remained in the same place.

Is it up to me?

It’s always been up to you to find the peace we needed to

Strength had been dwindling, strength to fight for a relationship immersed in chaos. When things blew up, when the road grew rocky and dangerous and sometimes even lethal, it’d always been her to struggle putting the pieces back together. His words of affirmation and endless charm was the glue that only temporarily mended the cracks, but it was her will and her strive that got them there in the end.

Strength was dwindling, and she was starting to give up. “It’s always been up to me, James,” she’d told him, voice quiet, scratchy, and broken. “It’s always been me, but it’s on you now.”

He hadn’t responded, lips slightly parted as he took in the way that she didn’t even bother looking at him. He knew he’d been digging a grave, and he was starting to see that eventually he’d have to lie in it if he didn’t straighten up. The problems in their lives, in both him and her, they were deeply rooted and while she’d been trying to hack away at them, he’d only been watering them.

Is it said and done, is it carved in the stone?

How many days is it gonna take ‘til we get back home?

Most days, he did nothing but convince her that their fate was sealed—that their ultimate demise on the horizon and refused to move for anything. She’d tried and tried to tell herself that that wasn’t the truth, exalted all resources willing into existence the fact that they were meant to be—stuck together for the trials and tribulations that life undoubtedly bring them.

Things could change, and perhaps they would; nothing was said and done for them because only Y/N could write her story and only she could choose her ending.

But the harder she held on, the longer the path seemed to be. If what they had was a journey through struggle and strife, then the journey seemed years and years long—an endless battle to just make it through the days to even see the end of the road, and it more often than not left her wondering how long it would take before they would make it back home. How long would it be before they returned to where they started—sickeningly sweet, head over heels in love and willing to do anything under the sun for one another.

Cause I don’t want to change

But I can’t stay this way

If this was what growth was, then she wished someone had told her of how painful it was. It felt like scratchy throats from screaming matches, aching chests from nights spent clawing away at the burning skin, and so many more things that weren’t even worth listing. The point of it was that she was finally reaching the point where the door was opening, creaking slowly and revealing the outside world where she could escape.

Y/N didn’t want to escape, but she was starting to see that maybe it was what she needed to do. At one point she had loved her life because he had made the sun shine brighter every day and the stars twinkle a little more each night, and while she longed for that version of James he was not anywhere in sight—and hadn’t been for a long time.

She knew she couldn’t stay this way, she knew it and felt like a complete idiot every time she saw her own reflection, but, much like the aforementioned growth, this change was just as painful. And pain was something she’d felt enough of.

And I don’t even mind staying chained, and thinking of you

Thinking of you

The doors had all been slammed, every single one had the unfortunate fate of being in the path of an angry James, and a few of them hadn’t survived and refused to close completely.

“Why do you want to leave so bad, huh? If you don’t wanna be here then just fucking leave!” The emotional torment was clear as day in his voice as he screamed to the top of his lungs, and it tore her heart to shreds.

“You know damn well why!” She’d shouted back, face beet red as her chest violently heaved. “I don’t fucking deserve this, Buck, and I’m sick and tired of it!” Her nerves buzzed under the surface of her skin and she could feel her pulse in her face, and the man before her only stared back with dark eyes.

“You won’t change,” she’d sobbed. “You won’t and you know it, and if you loved me you would.”

“Y/N—” he’d started, taking a step forward but she’d held her hands out, pushing herself against the wall to get further away.

“No.” Her words were shaky yet void of fear; actually, James could hear the grit that she’d developed after dealing with his shit for so long and he felt his chest cave in slightly. “You stay there and you listen to me.”

Will you wake me up? Will you shake me up?

Cause I’m losing my way in the game

The cracks and creases on her heart deepened greatly, and when they did so she felt every bit of it. The way his eyes bore into hers, as if he was searching her soul like he’d done so many times before, made her look away—for this time she couldn’t trust him to search with good intentions.

“I’ve tried for a long time to make this work, and you can’t tell me you don’t see it. You’re not stupid, James; don’t pretend to be.” She’d shook her head with her last statement, hair going every which way and tears almost filled his eyes because she was right. “But it wont work if something doesn’t give and I’ve given enough!”

He nodded lamely, because that’s all he could think to do. He knew she didn’t want his words, they didn’t matter right now.

“Are you even serious about this? About us? You know this isn’t a joke, this is MY life! It goes way beyond just you and your issues and your anger,” her arms waved around in the air. “James, I’m losing myself in this and you’re supposed to save me!”

The tears did fill his eyes then, stinging the blue orbs and causing him to blink rapidly. He felt like shit, and every bone in his body ached with guilt.

Even at our best, my love

Neither one of us was ever really good enough

The realization that some things truly weren’t meant to be, that some people really weren’t meant to be together, was a tough pill to swallow. Y/N felt herself choke on it multiple times throughout the years, but it was finally down and done with. She couldn’t say if they were never meant to meet, or just never meant to stay together, but either way she knew that they were a recipe for disaster.

Her chemicals and his mixed together didn’t make the love that lasted a lifetime, the kind that made it through the dark and the light of the rocky road through life. They made poison, a stunning and paralyzing formula of toxic traits and deep rooted issues. They weren’t a match; even at their best they were never compatible—just too blind and in love to see it.

“I don’t know why I can’t change, and I will always stay this way,” she sang softly, her heartbreak shining through under the bright lights of the stage in a bar miles and miles away from the man she loved. The band behind her kept up well, putting the raw emotion behind every beat and note that this song required, and for that she was grateful. It was a slight break in the constant dull that she felt, a break that she was beginning to believe she wouldn’t see in her lifetime.

“And I don’t even mind staying chained,” the drawl in her voice was nothing short of old soul and broken dreams, and it wouldn’t have fit in anywhere other than the rundown bar filled with folks of a similar kind. She’d worn heartache daily long before she walked away from that house, but now it never seemed to wipe off. It was never ending, and so was the thought of him. She truly was chained to him, and sometimes in the middle of tear filled nights she told herself that he was still chained to her as well. “And thinking of you.”

Thinking of you, thinking of you, thinking of you.

➥ send as ask to be added to the bucky tag list!

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harold231 · 4 years

Text

Only A Dream

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Posted: 01/31/2021

A/N: Any kind of feedback is helpful.😁 Fanks.

All you could feel was the coldness that circled around the room and made its way back to you sending a shiver up your spine. Slowly cracking your eyes open you’re met with complete darkness and a deafening silence that rang through your ears. The only thing you can process is the small sliver of red light shining on the ground and the fact that there is absolutely no sound coming from outside the room you are in. Something feels oddly familiar yet you can’t figure out what exactly it is. The mossy black floor and the door made of freezing iron illuminated by the red light triggered all the memories you tried endlessly to protect yourself from. “Not again, no please not again” running back to the door you start banging on it, but the only thing you can hear is the echo of an empty hallway

Patting yourself down for any weapons all that you find is that your neck aches. Raising a hand to your neck you feel that the skin right under your right ear is sensitive and firmer than the skin and muscles around it. You were drugged, but when? The last thing you remember is being in bed curled around Bucky falling asleep to the steady sound of his heartbeat. He smelled like a mix of fresh mountain air and hot cocoa, it wrapped around you like a warm blanket meant to protect you. It seems like a distant memory now rather than the night before, and suddenly all you can think about is the possibility that they might have Bucky too.

Scars still marked your body from all the horrible things they did to you, things you wanted nowhere near Bucky. Everything they did to you was always an experiment of some sort. They always had you testing new weapons that they had no idea would even work and multiple drugs created by their own twisted minds. The memories have been burned into your mind and no matter what you do, nothing helps more than Bucky. He’s helped you heal and he’s even protected you from yourself so many times and all you want to do is love him and keep him from all the bad in the world. This world has done him no favors, yet he’s the one who deserves it all.

Your body ached all over but the overwhelming feeling to find and protect Bucky numbed you to any problems that didn’t have to do with him. What felt like hours had passed since you woke up, your hands were bruising from all the banging on the door and that damn red light kept flashing which only reminded you that someone had to be in the building, because if they were going to imprison you why would they leave a light on for you?

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the most painful scream you’ve ever heard rips through the air. Bucky. “ NOOOO! TAKE ME, PLEASE, LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Metal hits metal, you assume from whatever weapon or tool they were using, as a group of men burst out laughing. Smushing your ear up against the door you hear the pained grunts and whimpers that ring through the hallways bringing more tears to your eyes. “BUCKY I’M HERE, I’m so sorry” you can’t see clearly, can’t feel your body, you can’t even take in a full breath.

A few minutes pass before you hear another heart shattering scream, and you do all that you can do, bang your bruised and swollen hands on the door in hopes to bring their attention to you rather than Bucky. “ LEAVE HIM ALONE! I’LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. PLEASE.” You keep banging on the door because it has to break at some point, it has to, right?

You only stop your assault on the door when silence rings through the hallways replacing all the pained sounds. Just like before, all you hear is nothing, only this time the silence is eerie and uneasy. The heavy thud of boots and the screeching of old wheels cuts through the silence as it slowly makes its way towards you. Preparing yourself to be taken to an experimental room you straighten your posture raising your chin slightly to show no fear.

The two harsh bangs on the door still startle you but you don’t back down. A small window in the door is opened and more light is let into the tight space as the guard moves from view. Slowly moving towards the window you notice that the gurney they brought along with them wasn’t empty. What you see completely disintegrates any sense of hope and heroism previously coursing through your body. In front of you lays a large body covered by a thin red sheet that clearly used to be white. What absolutely kills you is the pinky ring decorating the hand that lifelessly dangles from the bed. The same pinky ring that you gave bucky as a pinky promise to be together forever.

All of your will, to keep trying, to keep going, just to be, leaves you as you fall to your knees letting the sobs freely leave your body. Pain, guilt, and hate replace everything you were feeling before and all you want to do is be with Bucky.

Sticking your hand out of the window to reach for Bucky’s hand you’re quickly stopped by the death grip on your forearm. He shoves your arm back inside the cell before walking to the end of the gurney to slowly take him away. “NO PLEASE” you get back to the door in time to hear the taunting laugh before the other guard shuts the window. “BRING HIM BACK!” Broken sobs fall from you lips as you corner yourself as far away from the door as you can. “We were supposed to be together forever” you whisper to no one in particular, as your eyes shut and darkness surrounds you.

You felt as though you had failed him. After everything he’s done for you, you couldn’t even protect him this once. He practically lived to make you happy, if you had asked him to bring down the moon and stars he would find a way just because that’s who Bucky is. He’s a big dorky adorable super soldier sized kitten. He deserves the world, or deserved it.

Warmth surrounded your body bringing a familiar sort of comfort with it. Soft strokes against your cheek make you feel hazy and through your eyelids you can see that the room is getting brighter. Slowly you start blinking as you adjust to all the light suddenly filling the room. “C’mon pretty girl, wake up” at that your eyes snap open and there in front of you is your love, Healthy and alive and that’s all that mattered. Flinging your arms around his waist you cry into his chest “I thought you were gone” you can’t help the new wave of tears it brings on just to mention it.

Soft words are whispered into your ear and even softer kisses adorn your cheeks up to your nose. A gentle hand brings you face to face and you’re entranced by the man in front of you. “It was just a dream, I’m here and I’m always gonna be here, doll” He leans down to press his lips to your forehead before pulling you back into him. “Pinky promise.”

#bucky x you #Buckyxreader #BuckyBarnes #AvengersFic

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reinepadova · 4 years

Text

To Be Seen

| Chapter 1 | [ Next → ]

"It is said the Glaze Lily blooms in full in the presence of pure, beautiful music. For one, who have never sang for herself, is unaware of the singular attention glowing golden orbs are giving her from afar."

“Mei? What's wrong? Aren't these the ones you want?”

A small whine sounded, rejecting the assumption. A little girl, with large pigtail buns, clutched at a woman's skirt, rubbing her chubby cheek on it for comfort. She stared down fixatedly at the small cluster of flower buds, disappointment swathed her whole demeanor.

The odd pair have been travelling over the terraced fields since morning, hoping to catch the elusive 'special' flowers in full bloom. The little girl insisted its important for her intimate family event.

“Mei wants flowers to open. But Mei can't sing good.”

Stella softened her expression, placing a careful hand on the top of the girl's head. “Sing?”

Mei rubbed at her eyes with a wrist, before looking up at her lady companion, doe-eyed, sniffing when she felt the soothing caress. “Mm! Singing makes lilies open. Mei wants them open.”

Stella took a glance at the small patch, skeptical but curious. “Lilies... You mean Glaze Lilies? Why didn't you say so. I've seen some back at the Harbor. But since we're here already, we could visit Ms. Bai. She always has them in full bloom, unlike these ones. Flowers need to acclimate to any change in their environment. We need to prepare them carefully. We could spend the night at the village? Would you like that? Do you want me to help you buy some? I have extra mor--”

Mei shook her head stubbornly, pigtails fairly bouncing, unconsciously crushing the cloth under her tiny hands. “No! No! Mei wants these lilies. Gran-gran said they different. They special! They different colour, and smell really nice, and shine like mora when moon is round and big. Mei wants these for Gran-gran. Gran-gran took care of Mei good when mama and papa went to sky. Mei is very sad, but Mei is happy Gran-gran is with mama and papa. They take care of each other now. Mei wants them to know that Mei is okay. They don't... they don't need to worry about Mei anymore.” The little girl turned away, resting her forehead on Stella's thigh, shoulders shaking from feebly holding back her emotions. Stella held the little girl's head, while her other hand went to rub at her small back.

All was silent and serene. The early evening light was shadowed by passing clouds. The flower patch kept their treasure, resolute and undetered by small, quiet sobs. Stella though, stared in contemplation, the dainty fingers on Mei's back tapping along with her thoughts.

--{-}--

“Thank you for your hospitality, Chief. We're grateful for it. Especially... ”

Granny Ruoxin hummed, moving away from the doorway. “It's one thing to awaken from a bad dream. It's another to tire yourself to sleep from a bad reality. Poor child.” The village chief paused before catching Stella's gaze. “I'll do my rounds one last time at the pagoda before I turn in for the night. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I still have leftover Sunshine Sprat.” The elder's eyes softened, looking over at Mei. “You're a kind child, Ms. Stella. Watching over an orphan.”

Stella shook her head, turning back to her charge, tucking in the blankets again to hide her discomfort.

No one has called her kind before. Then again, no one really got close enough to try.

“It's the least I could do. Her grandmother was just as kind when she took me in when I felt lost in the world.” Felt lost in this world, Stella thought.

But Granny Ruoxin didn't need to know that.

Turned away, Stella was unaware of the mysterious smile on the elder's face. “I see. I hope then your stay would bring you only happy memories, with no regrets.”

Stella pivoted in her seat, puzzled, but only met with an empty doorway to her shared room with Mei.

--{-}--

The moon was bright but gentle, it's rays shined down a path Stella avoided methodically, less she finds herself engaged with the sluggish slimes nearby. With the energy gained from the Sprat dish, she dashed, momentum unrelenting despite the random outcrop of glowing rocks and uneven ground.

Closing in on the familiar flower patch, she did a quick sweep of the area before slowing down. With treasure hoarders around, it doesn't hurt to be careful, she thought. She summoned her Black Tassel, just in case. Those slimes are relentless when they want to be.

When she felt the field was clear after a few more minutes of surveillance, she relaxed her stance and shut her eyes. At the first sign of cloud cover, she began.

《Dark is night, endless sea》

《Gather stars, shining brighter》

《I beg thee, oh flowers bloom》

《Dark is night, cloudless breeze》

《Tender warmth, love from your eyes》

《I beg thee, oh flowers bloom》

Stella kept her voice soft, repeating the words she never sang out loud, but which she still treasured deeply.

《From my heart, I cherish thee》

《Welcome home, dancing in your arms》

《Joyful laughs, and sweet surprise》

《Hear me please, do not flee》

《Hear my song, hear my plea》

《I beg thee, open your heart》

《And eternity》

《Gather stars, shining brighter》

《I beg thee, oh flowers bloom》

Stella's heart raced, even as her song ended. She tightened her grip on her polearm. She took a deep breath, afraid of being disappointed when she opens her eyes.

It was a... very long time since she had reason to sing. Being a stranger, an alien, to this vast, bustling world – it felt daunting. Terrifying. Especially when she woke up in ancient ruins and mighty machines greeted her with sights set to kill her. She survived of course, but not without injury. It was only by chance, when she collapse on a bank in one of the rivers in Dihua Marsh, that a kind old lady with her granddaughter found her on the way to Mt. Qingce from Wangshu Inn.

「I... wish not to...burden you. More than... you already are. But. Please. This is... all I ask.」

「...」

「Please. Take care of...Take care of Meilin...」

「...Rest, gran-gran. You need your sleep.」

「...will...you? Take care of Mei? Please...」

「...Yes. Yes, I will. I promise.」

Stella took another deep breath, steadying her nerve, straightening her stance.

If this is the way. If this could be one of the ways she could honor her promise...

Stella opened her eyes.

--{-}--

An elegant, gloved hand picked up Slime Concentrate, silently placing a vial of it away. A man stood up, not a hair or thread out of place, despite the congregation of slimes that almost overwhelmed him from the sheer amount that had been attracted to this area. He paid it no mind though, for he was rewarded with a rare performance not seen or heard in so many centuries. He felt shamed for neglecting to remember such an experience right away, involving these particular Glaze Lilies. Surprised was he, not thinking they would flourish here compared to their usual spot further up the terraces.

His amber eyes watched, fixated, as the woman with the silvery voice that could launch a thousand demons stood in bewilderment, understandably surprised she was able to cause the rare, Gilded Glaze Lilies to open in full bloom, despite the deep cover of clouds, and the presence of an audience of two. A slight breeze brushed against her face and through the thick locks of her hair, waking her from her stupor. She slowly kneeled down, a hand stayed on her weapon, while another gently touched the tips of one shining petal.

Hm. These variants have always been fickle. Even with their previous caretaker, he mused, chin now resting on a curled finger. But who is this wonderful singer?

Shall I introduce myself?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

| Chapter 1 | [ Next → ]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A/N: This scenario came to mind faster than I expected today. Hope I keep this up.

If you’re wondering how to sing with the lyrics, use the ‘Iruna Eteluro’ song from Mahoutsukai no Yome series. The lyrics are inspired by the English lyrics made by a YTuber called Caroline Makes Music

#zhongli x female OC #To Be Seen #curious zhongli #pining zhongli perhaps #polearm wielding OC #zhongli #fanfiction #omniscient archon #zhongli x OC #companion mini exuvia

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cxptain-rex · 4 years

Text

Underneath The Stars {Captain Rex}

pairings: rex x reader; platonic!jesse x reader

warnings: this angst guys I mean it made me cry so :)) hold on to your handkerchiefs

a/n: I hope you guys enjoy it, I came up with it while listening to ‘Burying the Dead’ it is the last track you hear on the final episode of Clone Wars

tags: @morganas-pendragons @painkiller80 @notreallybeccab @xyxanonxyx @of-stardust-and-dreams cause’ you guys are the best.

***

The stars looked brighter that night on that unknown moon, Rex overlooked into them searching for something. An answer perhaps, anything to guide his way on the new reality of what his older life had become. He oversees the helmets on the valley of the wreckage. Jesse’s helmet hunts his mind and heart, how they were use as pawn for a trick. A mere trick to take over the galaxy.

Rex quivers at the thought of losing his brothers and he for once he cannot stop the tears from dropping. He sobs and mourns throughout the night as the stars shine brightly.

“They are up there now” a voice says from behind Rex, a shadow looms until the light of the stars shine your figure. The captain - whom never liked being a commander anyway - takes a ragged breath as he does not meet your gaze. You frown, following his gaze towards the makeshift cemetery of clones.

Your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on Jesse’s helmet. Your best friend. Dead. Tears threaten to fall but you push them away. You must remain strong for Rex.

Silence is the only thing surrounding you and for once the Force flows peacefully. It emits warmth and you enjoy it for the time being. You take a few steps forward and plop down besides Rex. Your mind betrays you as you remember how the cruiser fell through the clouds. You remember how Ahsoka didn’t almost got on the bomber with Rex. You remember how you stood behind trying to save your best friend. And failing miserably.

“Jesse! Please this isn’t your doing. Let me help you” you shout over the sound of the cruiser breaking apart. The clone managed to pry himself up, hand on his DC-17 blaster pistol as he points it towards you. The pistol does not scare you away, in fact you stalk towards him with your hands up.

“Please” you whisper as you come to stand in front of him. Jesse cries and trashes in his mind. His subconscious screaming for your help. He knows that it is not his doing but in fact he is being controlled by something rather dark. He wants to scream for you and he tries but he cannot stop pointing his pistol towards you.

“Y/N” he croaks trying to regain control of his mind and body. He fails. “Jesse, I’m right here” you mumble as you feel the cruiser fall faster. Time is running out for you and Jesse. “We have to leave, please” you beg holding out your hands for him to take. You wouldn’t leave the ship without your best friend. Jesse knows he will die. He must do anything to protect you, it is too late for you to make the jump.

Everything happened way too fast for you to think. Jesse with his last free will wraps himself around you, acting as a breaker for the fall. And you fall. Hard and fast. The landing of Jesse and you in his arms alarm you as you try to pry yourself from the iron grip. Black dots form on your vision as you try to comprehend the situation. “Jess” you mumble trying to feel the man but you feel nothing as darkness envelops you. As you fall unconscious, Jesse lets a ragged breath as he feels free at last. He knows he is dying. He basks in the moment of holding you one more time before parting into the stars with the rest of his fallen brothers.

Rex had found you wrapped in Jesse’s embrace, he feared that he lost you both. But his brother managed to save you. The image alone would hunt Rex for the rest of his days. As you break free from the clutches of the memory in your mind, your hand finds Rex’s. Linking yourself to him, your head falls on his plastoid covered shoulder. For a moment you do not find the strength to speak. Silence is the only thing engulfing you and Rex, aside from the stars and the warmth of the fire you and Ahsoka had made earlier in the evening. The Togruta has gone to the night watch, making sure no clones or anyone has tracked you down which you highly doubt.

“Everyone must think that we are dead” you manage to say as your gaze lingers too long into the fire. The comment makes Rex blink until he manages to grasp your chin softly and turn your face towards his. He manages to meet your gaze this time and the usual charm in your eyes has been lost. The blonde clone has no words for you. He hasn’t spoken much since he and Ahsoka landed the bomber on the moon in order to find any survivors. A few words shared but nothing else.

“Perhaps, but we have survived. You know the truth. We survived” and they didn’t he wanted to say but the words did not made their way for you to hear them. Rex cannot bring himself to remember how you pushed Ahsoka towards the bomber and stayed behind. He watched how you ran back for Jesse, he feared for your life. The captain did not see you again until he found you amongst the wreckage. He had no idea how you survived the fall but seeing Jesse underneath you made sense. A crude death for his brother, a sacrifice he made in order to save you.

The stars still shine, they twinkle and your heart cracks. Jesse, Fives, Tup and the rest. And even the ones whom you assume that are as well dead. They are up there, you tell yourself as the tears finally fall. Your heart bleeds for your family. The family you managed to built thanks to a war which only led you to lose it as well. You think about your master, Obi-Wan and for your older friend Anakin, in hopes of believing that they survived. Being left in the darkness with no chance of surviving, just hope. That’s what you have now, hope.

Hope is a bright star in a hopelessly dark universe. Through light years of distance, the brightness fills our inner selves. Hope makes people smile on the inside as well as on the outside. Hope is not just an emotion, it is a promise that smiling and laughter are just around the corner. When the fighter has been laid on the canvas by a well placed right to the jaw, hope is there saying, "Get up. Take a nine count if you must, but be ready to stand, and have the ref dust off your gloves. You're going to win this match." Hope is drawn to the person who sees beyond the present defeat, beyond the moment of being cast down, beyond the loss of the job, and beyond the negative words of hopeless voices. There is that voice from the "bright star" telling the galaxy to look beyond the darkness - to the bright light of hope.

Rex gives you hope and love as warmth fills you again. You lay under the stars, which were like a beautiful, surreal blanket above your heads. You could feel his heartbeat against the back of your head, and could hear the soft breaths of him by your side. That's when it hit you: Sometimes you are like stars, you fall to make someone's wish come true.

The captain takes a deep breath as his eyes follow the twinkling stars above your heads. His lips part as he cradles your hands. “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” He says and you follow him through repeating as well. In your mind you repeat the names of the fallen.

“I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal” you whisper softly the Mando phrase in your own language. You hide your face in Rex’s chest, perhaps darkness has bestowed upon the galaxy but your love has light in it big enough to keep you and Rex sane and alive.

As you lay under the stars you manage to find peace within yourself and Rex. Perhaps you might be on the run but your lover remains by your side. You have lost your family but you have love and life. And you must celebrate it. Perhaps not now but later when the galaxy finds peace once again.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum” Rex whispers loud enough for you to hear. Your heart skips a beat as you meet his gaze, “I love you too, Rex” you mumble brushing your lips against his.

Rex holds you gently, cupping your face with one hand. He leaned down and softly kissed the tender area at the base of your neck. Yout body went rigid with surprise as trembles shook your body and the euphoric warmth blossomed within you once more. You were breathless with delight as he showered you with gentle, soft kisses, each with its own flicker of warmth. You gazed up at him, thrilled beyond words to be the recipient of his affection. Rex drew back again and spent a moment studying your face.

The stars managed to make your eyes alive, and for an instant Rex was drawn back to Coruscant, to his vods, to you. You are the living memory of his brothers and of his former life. You are the only string that keeps him remembering the happy times that he had with his brothers. With his general. With Ahsoka. With you. And he smiles. For one he smiles genuinely.

You felt your blush deepen under his scrutiny. Rex gazed at you lovingly, his eyes softening with tenderness before sparking with something else. He tilted you head to the side and kissed you, his lips demanding. You felt a smoldering heat deep within her as Rex’s grip tightened, crushing your body to his, gentle yet firm. He slanted your head further, deepening the kiss.

The eerie darkness of the night would never escape your memory. You think of the pitch-black curtain draped over the sky, and the twisted, warped shapes that the stars made against the blackness. The milky speckles twirled and danced along the sky in various patterns, tugging at the corners of your lips in a way that almost made you smile. Rex still by your side, the kisses shed by him sparking a fire in you alive. It was hard to shove aside the worries corrupting your mind, but eventually, you stopped thinking. You weren’t alone. You have Rex. Nothing bad from your life could touch you. Not a single thing could harm you or Rex. As you stared up at the sky and studied the silver glow of the stars. They smiled down at you with love so intense it warmed your soul like a fireplace on a cold winter's night. And there you were, laying underneath the stars at midnight to escape your life at the moment, not wanting to do anything but enjoy the moment with Rex. But the look that the stars gave you didn't cause the storm to go on inside of you. Instead, a hot blue fire flickered in your heart and soon started to grow, eating at all of the dark emotions in its path. Your worries burned away, and the tears that were starting to form again at the corners of your eyes melted down your cold face with a rush of relief.

Crying felt good, especially when they were tears that you didn't want to push away. They weren't drops of sadness, no. They were more like the feelings of joy, relief, happiness and freedom streaming away from your hurting eyes. They were temporary cleaners to wash away the pain. You never cried, it just wasn't you even when you lost troopers or anything. But this night, under the protection of millions of stars and the beautiful moon, you felt like you could let the floodgates open with a single snap of your fingers. You stared up at the sky and continued to let your pain run away for the moment. The cold midnight winds rolled in and tickled your body as you layed on the floor, not ever wanting to leave. Not ever wanting to leave Rex’s side. Or the peaceful moment.

You smile at the twinkling stars, knowing that your vods watch over you amongst the stars now.

***

A/N: While I wrote this I cried. For real, I shed tears. I really miss clone wars way too much and I just came up with this and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you guys for being here! It means the world! As always reblog and like for more content

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alottanothing · 4 years

Text

Left to Ruin: Chapter Twelve

Summary: Nouke struggles with the broken heart Ahkmenrah left her with. When he shows up on her farm days later, she fights to keep him from breaking it further.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 7224

Warnings: SMUT Y’ALL. GOOEY, OH SO SOFT, SMUT. (18+ only), also brief mentions of blood and injuries

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe, @r-ahh-mi, @theultraviolencefan, @hah0106, @rami-malek-trash, @diasimar, @sherlollydramoine, @flipper-kisses, @ivy-miranda-2390, @txmel, @sunkissedmikky, @concentratedsassandcandy, @babyalienfairy, @edteche2 (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: @xmxisxforxmaybe gets an extra shout out for this chapter because this was the first time I’ve written explicit smut and she kept me from breaking down into a panic attack, while also giving me pointers. She’s a superb writing buddy and I love her. With that said, I did my best and I’m no longer cringing when I go back and read this, so that has to count for something right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

Having her heart broken proved to be useful. With it left in such ruin, Nouke was never more dedicated to her chores; she poured all of her focus on the farm and the more arduous tasks that were often left abandoned—Nouke did anything to keep from thinking of the ache in her chest. Plowing the soil from dawn to dusk helped distract from the gaping hole that her once sweet prince tore in her heart. She planted more of the land; fields that were left to weed since her father had passed were now ready to sew. When there was no more to be done in the fields, Nouke made repairs to the stables and wove baskets to store the surplus grain. That all worked for a while.

Despite her efforts, the dull ache of heartbreak always crept through her resolve.

At first, all Nouke felt was deep-seated anger coupled with a sense of betrayal; it writhed and festered until it plagued every recent memory of him with a veil of black. The mere thought of her king set her fists into a ball and her teeth against each other—grinding with resentment.

But anger was exhausting to hold on to. By the second day, her discontent faded altogether, leaving only hurt. Even the shroud of darkness that tainted every memory of her friend disappeared when her anger subsided. The pharaoh had bewitched her—not in the latter moments they’d shared but in the ones long before his crown heavied his head. In those moments of play and adventure during their youth: every game, every story, every sweet smile he'd lent as a child had worked into her heart and refused to let go.

His love never failed to trickle through every moment their eyes met, or how he always brought food to share when he knew she often went without. That love shone brightest the day he’d asked her to follow him throughout Egypt, and it was she who had taken that glimmer of fleeting hope and snuffed it out. He had offered her his world, and she denied him. The gods had presented her with almost every desire she had ever wanted—for a second time—and like a fool, she rejected their gift again. Surely the ache in her chest was penance for being too greedy.

On the third day, Nouke was certain she would carry the miserable heaviness in her heart forever.

It wasn’t until the fourth day that she actually missed him; missed his smile and his kindness. She missed his kiss and his gentle caresses; the way he drew his bottom lip between his teeth just before dazzling her with a grin. All of it was lost to her, and the notion made her laden heart too poignant to ease with distraction.

The only joy her spirit could cling to was the increasing wellness of her mother. Every day she ate a little more, walked a little farther, and smiled a little brighter.

In those few days of anguish, Maketaten only asked once what it was that cast her daughter with such sorrow. Nouke could, at most, manage a frown and a shake of her head, but it was enough for her mother to know it was a broken heart that afflicted her daughter.

The fourth evening Nouke worked tirelessly, doing whatever she could to steal away the notion of missing the man who broke her heart. Her mother felt well enough to help with some of the easier chores around the farm, and while Nouke was grateful for her mother’s help and company, she feared that she was not particularly affable company in return. For days, words were too difficult an obstacle to maneuver without provoking a wave of tears, so she said nothing.

The quiet air of the stables was filled with her mother’s soft humming: lullabies Nouke recognized from her childhood. To a degree, the gentle melodies fostered a warmth her cold heart was desperate to find. Even the corners of her mouth quirked into a content smile finding enough ardor to hum along—an elusive moment of peace.

“Don’t work too much longer, my love,” her mother cautioned a time later as the sun sank below the horizon.

“I won’t, mother,” Nouke promised, struggling to hold a genuine smile longer than a second or two. “I’m just going to finish, then I’ll be up.”

Maketaten kissed her daughter's cheek before venturing out of the stable.

Nouke watched her fondly as she went; thankful to still have her. She would always be grateful to her king for giving back her mother’s health no matter how much he’d hurt her heart.

A bereft sigh worked through Nouke at the thought of the pharaoh; how much she missed him, and how much she hated that she missed him. All those years of forgetting—learning to live without him—were suddenly tainted. She wanted that ignorance back.

Nouke let her mind roam as she finished her chores, searching for a memory that wasn’t somehow tethered to the man she loved. She held to thoughts of her mother and father, the few years their farm thrived and the three of them were genuinely happy—a time that seemed so long ago. She dwelled in the tranquility of those memories; recalling every sound and smell when they were new and exciting. For a moment, Nouke found peace there in the illusion of her past, wishing she could spend the rest of her days lost in that dream, until a hooded shadow appeared on the back wall of the stable jerking her back to reality.

She gasped as she turned with a jump, quickly reaching for the nearest tool to protect herself. Almost instantaneously her fear faded, exhaling a shaky breath as she found a pair of familiar, wide eyes locked with hers under a hooded robe. Her mouth felt suddenly dry, and her heart pounded as Ahkmenrah slid the cowl away before carding his fingers through his hair.

A different sort of fear worked over her, muscles growing tense to prepare for any more damage he could throw at her heart. Nouke watched him, watching her. He seemed frightened, almost lost, when his mouth hung open but no words came out.

“Your majesty,” Nouke bid him with a bow, glad to have managed words before him—her tone cold.

The pharaoh winced, and pain twisted onto his frozen features hearing her icy bravado, causing him to hang his head shamefully. Nouke wanted so much to find satisfaction in hurting him, to do to him what he had to her, but the anguish tugging at his handsome features only made her feel worse.

It took him several minutes to build up the courage to approach with cautious strides, but he stopped a little more than an arm's length away, too afraid to come closer. Without a word he carefully removed the satchel slung around his torso and offered it, keeping his eyes fixated away from hers.

“Fresh dates and figs—some of the sweetbreads we used to share as kids,” Ahkmenrah explained. “Medicines too, for your mother.”

A stitch came lose in her tightly bound façade when her eyes fell to the leather satchel before following the length of his arm to his face. He still wasn’t looking at her, but his grief was more real than the moon and all the stars in the heavens. Ahkmenrah was hurting too, just as much as she was.

“A peace offering,” he added, his tone almost pleading.

Several more of her stitch's burst, sensing the gravity of his own quiet misery. The look on his face and his listless posture was a mirror of how she had fared since leaving his chamber. Ahkmenrah had been carrying his hurt with him exactly as she had and the notion helped to combat some of her own despair.

With a hesitant gesture, Nouke took the bag, and when her errant glance caught the purple and yellow knuckles of his hand, dried with blood and split open, her brows creased with query.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked gently, in an attempt to coax out the Ahkmenrah she knew and loved. The unspirited husk of a man before her was not the sweet prince her heart yearned to have.

Confusion flashed across his face as he studied the injury, eyes darting wildly over each wounded knuckle as though he had no recollection of its existence. He flexed his fingers and pain flickered throughout his features, prompting a quiet hiss to escape his lips.

When he offered no explanation, Nouke realized whatever had happened to cause the ugly bruise was enough to shake him.

“Go to the roof,” she instructed softly, suddenly overcome with the need to help. “I’ll bring a bowl of water and bandages. It’s the least I can do.”

A faint look of shock flashed in his eyes, as though he could not fathom her want to help him, then he nodded.

Ahk left as silently as he’d come and Nouke exhaled a deep breath like she’d been holding it, making her almost dizzy. The smarter thing would have been to take his offering and bid he leave her sight forever. However, every time she looked at him, her mind went blank and nothing in the world seemed as important as him.

It took minutes for her to calmly restitch the hole in her composure he’d split simply by being near. She would return to him one last time with her heart completely protected. It was safer that way.

Nouke stalled for as long as she could, wanting to delay another evening of Ahkmenrah’s profoundly intimate glances; something she wasn’t sure her heart could weather. She checked once, twice, three times, that her chores were done before collecting as much courage as she could and gathered supplies to tend to Ahk's injuries. She ventured upstairs into the quiet living space finding it empty, her mother already asleep in the other room. Nouke emptied the satchel slung on her shoulder of the gifts inside and refilled it with rolled linen strips, a vial of medicinal honey, and a clay bowl.

Lastly, she grabbed the oil lamp from the table as well as a pitcher of water. It was a precarious task, balancing the lamp and the pitcher as she scaled each rung of the ladder with a single hand, but she managed it without starting a fire or spilling a drop.

Ahkmenrah was seated among the cushions and woven mats in the furthest corner of the flat roof. The sight caused her heart to flutter finding him so doleful and pensive while the wind swept through his curls as he looked out over his city.

He had broken her heart, but he would always have it.

The pharaoh stood in silent greeting when he noticed her, a woefulness dulling his usually crystalline eyes.

“Sit,” Nouke told him, every manner of cold resolution gone from her tone; her stitches already threatening to pull loose.

Just as she feared, he watched her with reverence and a cautious intimacy that was almost too much to bear, though she did her best to ignore it, placing herself across from him. Nouke kept her eyes trained on the supplies she removed from the satchel, laying them before her in the dim light flickering from the oil lamp.

“Let me see,” she said gently, holding out her hand, waiting for him to take it.

He was hesitant, but he obeyed. Nouke mindfully studied the abrasions, still curious as to what had caused them. She filled the bowl with water and tore a small piece of linen. Ahkmenrah’s attentive eyes weighed lightly on her as she cleaned the cuts, gently scrubbing until the dried blood no longer stained his skin.

“So, are you going to tell me how this happened?” Nouke asked easily, glancing to hold his gaze only a moment before settling her focus back to his injury. Any glance longer would have a negative effect on the resolve she was fighting to keep tightly laced.

“Or would you like me to guess?” she added in a jesting tone before she could think better of it.

He mustered a slight smile, and a puff of air through his nostrils that was more or less a chuckle.

“I struck my brother,” he said finally, in a timbre that sounded as though he could hardly believe he could do such a thing.

“You did?” Nouke had never known him to be violent or lay force to anyone. Although, Kahmunrah did have that effect on people.

Ahkmenrah nodded, and his eyes fell back to where she continued to wash his bruised knuckles.

“He hurt Setshepsut,” he murmured.

Oh—Nouke had difficulty combating the twinge of jealousy that bit into her, and the influx of envy secured those stitches a little tighter. Of course he would fight for his wife.

With a sigh, she kicked that specific thought out of her mind. It didn’t matter who he did and did not fight for; he was a pharaoh and she was no one. He would always do as he pleased.

“But…” Ahk said, and Nouke could almost hear him sifting through his thoughts by the way he spoke. “I think that’s only part of the reason…”

All at once, his words were whimsical, almost breathless; as though he’d just stumbled upon some grand epiphany.

“What’s the other reason?” Nouke husked out, fighting back hope she knew was dangerous.

The moment his blue-gray eyes locked with hers, free of the grief that had resided in them all evening, hope planted itself far too deep in her to root out.

“You,” he said with enough conviction to make several of her emotional stitches tear.

“Every time I look at him, I remember what he did to you, and I’m overcome with...” his voice trailed off as his eyes glanced at his bruised hand.

Ahkmenrah swallowed and exhaled deeply before he found the nerve to continue, “What he did to my sister was finally enough to fight back, so I struck him. For her, and for you.”

Nouke bit her lip to keep from smiling. Her heart was yearning again, pulling free the strings of her control, wanting to jump out and embrace the king with enthuse. But her mind valiantly fought against her wistful heart. Nouke's focus remained on her task, the cuts clean and scabbed over, leaving only the marbled bruise across his knuckles. With another strip of linen, she dabbed each cut with the salve of medicinal honey to ensure they healed properly.

“What did your brother do to Set—er—the Queen?” Nouke asked in an attempt to feed her curiosity and deter the deepening desire in her heart.

“Set ran away.”

Nouke looked up to meet the pharaoh’s eyes, her features contorting with question and shock.

“She did?”

Ahk nodded, and a trace of sadness returned to his blue eyes.

“That was why I was not truly myself the night you came to me,” he explained.

He felt responsible, she could tell from the slouch in his shoulders and the downward curl on his lips. The pharaoh felt guilty and more of her stitches frayed seeing his sadness.

“Why did she run away?” Nouke asked, stopping her task a moment to listen.

“Because I was a fool. She miss took my words—reading them as though I intended to break a vow I made.”

“What vow?” Nouke’s heart was racing, feeling as though a crescendo was building with every word they spoke; surging them closer to some unknown divine manifestation.

His eyes were reverent on her again, smoldering in the dim glow of the burning lamplight.

“The vow that once I found a second wife, I would free her of our union—free us. That way, she could be with the soldier she loves, and I can be with—”

Me—she didn’t say it when his words trailed off again, but she felt the trajectory of the sentence and knew it had to be true. Nouke’s heart was pounding, fighting to rip the stitches that remained. Hastily she looked back to his hand and meticulously began winding his injury with fresh linen, counting her breaths to keep herself calm.

Joy rushed through her, but Nouke refused to let it surface until Ahkmenrah said the words outright. She needed to be sure. Pressure built in the silence between them, and she stalled as long as she could, twisting and tucking the fabric strips over his knuckles until all she could do was meet his gaze.

“I am so sorry, Nouke,” Ahkmenrah said with such profound sincerity, she could feel it in her bones. “The moment you asked for an explanation I should have told you—I should have fought.”

“Fight now,” Nouke demanded, breathless as her head started to spin.

Pressure continued to build with every beat that passed with silence, and for a brief moment, she feared he wouldn’t fight. Then, Nouke caught the twinkle of sparks in his eyes. It was a mix of awe and hope and he took both of her hands in his when he spoke.

“I have only felt joy—true joy—when I have been with you. Never have you been second to anyone. You, Nouke, are my only one. Now and forever.”

Nouke's breath caught on a gasp as the barrier protecting her heart frayed completely. Tears welled quickly, filling her eyes and blurring his handsome face; but she could still make out his sweet smile. Nouke prayed he wasn’t a mirage, a cruel trick from the desert sent to break her heart completely, but Ahk’s soft fingers brushed along her jaw. They wiped gently at the tears staining her face, reassuring her that he was no illusion.

“I gave you my heart years ago.” He leaned closer with every word. “It is yours from that moment, until my dying moment, and evermore. Should you want it.”

Tears were shining in his eyes too, overcome with what his own heart felt.

His words rang like music in her ears; sweeter than any sound produced in song or with an instrument. Her reply was not with words—words were far too trivial. Actions spoke more profoundly than any utterance she could think up, and as a smile slowly unfurled across Nouke’s lips, she chose to show him exactly how his declaration made her feel.

Her tears of joy paved the way for her desire to blossom freely—her heart uncaged at last and filled to the brim with euphoria. In a series of lithe movements, Nouke moved into his lap, cradling his angular jaw, pulling his mouth to hers in a searing kiss while her legs wound around his waist.

The sudden intimacy took Ahk aback, his delighted shock manifesting in a low hum that vibrated from his chest and to his lips as she kissed him, his arms weaving around her. Nouke ran her tongue over his top lip, feeling the quirk of the pharaoh's smile as his mouth opened to capture it. His palms fanned open against her lower back, persuading her closer, drinking in every nuance of her kiss slowly, savoring every second of the intimate exchange.

When they parted, their shaky breaths danced across each other's skin in heated puffs, radiating like the glow from a dull flame. The black of Ahk's eyes was blown wide, and his parted lips intensified his expression of lust and adoration. Nouke’s gaze only surrendered his to marvel at every angle and shadow of his face until she became transfixed with the succulent sheen of his kiss swollen lips.

The sight worked through to her core, and she couldn’t quell the need to draw the pad of her thumb over his full lips—an act of wonderment and praise. The notion those lips would forever be hers to kiss and admire prickled her flesh with goosebumps as passion spread through her like fire.

When Nouke kissed him again it was with zealous haste and a sensuous yearning. And yet, there was a trace of hesitance to the play of his mouth against hers—a caution that only made her more ravenous for him. It was in the still too chaste way he kissed her back that Nouke realized his fear. Before, she ran when his advances grew too brazen with desire, but the circumstances were different: it was finally okay to want him.

A wave of determination surged and Nouke parted their kiss so suddenly, Ahkmenrah’s dark eye shrunk with sobering fear and his hands fell away—abruptly over cautions.

“What?” he whispered; eyes unblinking and earnest.

Nouke smiled, allaying some of his fear. Her heart was racing as she straddled his crisscrossed legs, rising above him enough to make a proper show of sliding her garment from her shoulders.

In a whisper of movement, the warn linen fell down her torso, pooling at the slight flare of her hips. Nouke gasped as the cool night air of the desert tingled over her bared skin causing her nipples to harden.

Ahkmenrah’s trained eyes never left hers, still too guarded to ogle her bared breasts, but his eyes smoldered once more into inky pools. The stars in the heavens glittered in their black mirror, and Nouke was certain the sky was never more beautiful than when it was reflected in his eyes. His breathing had all but stopped, his body completely still. Ahk swallowed, and the slow bob of his Adam's apple was somehow inherently a display of his own desire.

Without breaking their trance, Nouke found his hands with her own and laid them upon her naked flesh in an act of unbridled consent.

“Touch me, Ahk,” she murmured. “Please.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice.

His eyes drifted with wonder to where his fingers began to map her skin; the gentle friction of his hands was like striking a match inside of her. Nouke was powerless to the fire of his touch as it blossomed and spread. She could think of no words eloquent enough to describe the sensation of Ahk’s soft fingers venturing to explore every bit of her flesh. How many times had she indulged in the fantasy before that moment? Nouke couldn’t recall, but the reality was so much more profound than she could have ever imagined.

She whined in the back of her throat when he tentatively brushed the sides of her breasts, his thumbs sweeping over her sensitive nipples. Every ounce of Ahkmenrah’s hesitation evaporated as he read the language of her body, and the sounds his caresses coaxed out from deep in her throat.

As their eyes met again, Nouke found only exuberant desire and a thoughtful adoration free of hesitation in her lover's eyes, causing affection to swell in her breast. The grin that twisted onto the pharaoh's lips was impish; dripping with enthusiasm and a possessive pride that drove through her very nerves in a wave of molten desire.

Ahk drew her against his chest, luring her into a bruising kiss that filled her eyes with stardust. The play of his mouth and tongue was hungry and strong; overwhelmingly intoxicating paired with the way his blunt nails bit into the flesh of her back as he pulled her impossibly closer. She purred invitingly when his mouth left her to lay wet kisses down her neck and the center of her chest.

Nouke leaned into each nip—craving more and more of his lush ministrations. His mouth skirted along the globe of her breast, dragging his tongue over its curve before swirling the sensitive peak. She rejoiced the sensation with a sharp inhale, her body wantonly arching against him. Ahk’s responding growl reverberated through them both; a sound, deep and guttural, escaping into the air as he moved his focus to her other breast with the same fervor.

Nouke’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging as she hugged his face against her chest. All manner of rational thought was rapidly clouding over with a fog of desire, allowing her the mind only a moment to ponder which felt better against her skin: the pharaoh’s teeth or his tongue. Regardless, Ahkmenrah’s mouth was divine wherever he sought to put it.

Gradually, his kisses ventured in an upward trajectory; nipping and sucking and licking all the way from the swell of her breast, across the rise of her collarbone until lingering at the hollow of her neck. The warm silk of his lips pressed against her pulse as he laved the single spot, suckling a possessive mark until he cajoled a soft, wanton whine from her.

Nouke could feel the curl of his smirk against her flesh before he smoothed the bruise he’d left with his tongue. His mouth worked to hers again, capturing it with the same possessive pride—his tongue flicking across her lips causing her mouth to fall open with a sigh.

Ahk broke away long enough to shed the servant's tunic he wore, yanking it over his head in a single, swift movement that did little in the way of hindering their pace. Nouke bit her lip to keep from smiling too foolishly as she drank in the sight before her; his lean torso and sculpted shoulders smattered with freckles. Her pharaoh was a vision so beguiling; his physicality alone sent heat rushing between her thighs.

Before she had eloquently taken in the play of the muscles in his arms, they came to wrap around her once more, squeezing her, and the newfound friction of their naked skin elicited a shared moan. Nouke's arousal was dripping; aching to feel him inside her for the first time.

Ahk’s mouth moved against her’s as he masterfully cradled her waist and shifted them, laying Nouke amidst the nest of woven mats and cushions. He rocked back onto his haunches, eyes half-lidded and twinkling, as he drank in the sight of her with an open-mouthed expression of wonderment. Nouke did the same, propping herself on her elbows.

In the dull glow of the dying lamplight and the spill of Khonshu’s silver rays, her mighty pharaoh looked ethereal. The rise and fall of his proud chest, glittering with a light sheen of sweat, and the disheveled curls on his head were a sight she would hold forever.

Akhmenrah wet his lips as he crawled over her—the flash of his tongue utterly tantalizing. He buried his face in her neck, kissing the skin tenderly, the hot fan of his breath fostering a wave of goosebumps and she sighed. When he spoke, Nouke could feel the brush of his lips against her ear, and it made her toes curl.

“Will you allow me to worship you?” The base note of his voice dropped lower than usual, dripping sweet and sinfully and she almost moaned on account.

“Yes,” Nouke breathed out, one hand moving to tangle in his scalp, the other anchoring and digging into his shoulder as he laid across her.

The grin that Ahk met her with was absolutely lascivious; an expression so affectionate and salacious, warmth rippled through her body with an impassioned tide, causing Nouke's toes to curl and her mouth to fall open with a sigh because of it.

The pharaoh wasted no time trailing his deft lips down the middle of her torso, tasting the stack of her ribs—kissing them each tenderly as he went. Even the dip of her waist he lavished delicately with enthuse as though every part of her flesh was the sweetest nectar. His hands moved in tandem: trailing to knead each breast and laying light scratches down her sides before pressing into the soft swell of her hips.

In the stillness of the air, Nouke was almost certain the rapid beat of her heart thrummed louder than a parade of drums when Ahkmenrah gathered fistfuls of the garment hiding her center. His eyes skated up to meet hers, asking silent permission and she responded with an anticipatory gasp, raising her hips so that he could slide the bunched fabric off, leaving her bare before him.

As Ahk knelt between her thighs, his eyes exploring every dip, curve and swell, heat rushed to color Nouke's cheeks. Never had her few, heedless rendezvous' made her feel as profoundly exposed as she did then. It was a new level of intimacy that made her both acutely nervous and overwhelmingly excited.

Even so, a thread of apprehension stitched into the features of Nouke’s face, suddenly aware that Ahkmenrah was a king, and accustomed to only the finest things. She was no glittering princess. She was just the servant girl who loved him with all of her heart.

An unbridled look of awe consumed the pharaoh’s features as his mouth drew into an affectionate grin, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I have traveled across Egypt and never looked upon such profound beauty,” he promised with enough conviction it was able to combat her blush, and her lips quirked into a grin of her own.

“Have you not seen yourself?” Nouke's eyes danced down his flawless torso, lingering on the hard line of him straining the fabric of his shendyt.

Ahk beamed all white teeth and full lips, sending butterflies to occupy her stomach.

“Your loveliness is beyond comparison," he assured her.

Her heart swelled and pounded rapidly as she held his gaze, her every breath long and slow. For all the apprehension she felt moments ago, all that remained was wanton need and affection.

His fingertips swept over the tops of her thighs—feather-light—as his wide smile softened into a gentle smirk.

“Lie back,” he instructed, gingerly urging her legs further apart.

Nouke did as he asked, locking her eyes with the stars as she reminded herself to breathe—the sensation of Ahk’s hands brushing closer to her heated center so distracting to all of her senses.

Without warning, a single, thick finger drew a swift line threw her center and he hummed, pleased at how wet she already was.

The surprise and the teasing way he only just swept over the bundle of nerves hidden in her core inspired a surge of pleasure so grand it manifested in the form of a gasp Nouke was both unable and unwilling to smother. Ahkmenrah purred again, a satisfied and lewd note, rumbling from deep in his chest that, itself, strove to finish her.

Ahk had only begun to touch her where she’d longed to have him, and already her body was begging to accommodate him. The desperate need to passionately tangle herself with another soul—with Ahk—was more than just a heedless play of the flesh. Nouke surrendered to it, bliss encompassing her entire spirit.

An unabashed and playfully arrogant smile played on Ahk's beautiful lips when she risked a look his way. The sight of the pharaoh Ahkmenrah nestled between her legs, looking so pleased, fixated warm knots in her stomach. Teasing kisses burnished the skin of her thighs; each closer to the hidden part of her, making the knots pull tighter with the ache of anticipation. Nouke whined feeling his impish smile against her skin.

Before Nouke could utter a verbal complaint to protest his playful lips, Ahk dropped his mouth to her; drawing his tongue up and flat through the center of her folds, stopping to curl around the bud of her clit.

Nouke’s hips bucked to chase the sensation of his mouth, her head falling back as her eyes fluttered shut, a moan rumbling from her throat.

"Oh...Ahk..."

Aptly, and without relinquishing his task, Ahkmenrah guided her legs to moar over his shoulders, her heels falling to dig into his back. A shudder shook her when the rush of his hot breath puffed against her quim, and the stars spinning in her eyes barely had time to settle before he swept his tongue through her silky folds a second time.

Ahkmenrah’s mouth worked her with all the confidence of a virile king—a notion that spurred a lusty haze to consume her— prompting his name to spill from her lips in awe and praise. Nouke welcomed the pleasure, letting every distinction of his ministrations kindle and feed the fire engulfing her. She willfully drowned in a bliss she had never known the like of before, wonderfully powerless to swim the current of his love.

Nouke arched to get closer, her body springing with abandon, brazen and greedy as she wove her fingers into his hair—tugging. Ahk stiffened his tongue, running it out to flick against her before sliding between her folds, avidly sampling the nectar within, and Nouke rolled unashamedly against his face. She was drawing tight around him, the beginning of the end finally in sight, and Ahk flicked against her in quick, delicate strokes until she keened and shuddered, yanking his hair.

Her hips swiveled again when his tongue brushed over the sensitive bundle, causing Nouke's vision to blur as that swollen bud became the focus of the pharaoh's ministrations. The heat pulsing through her began to coil tighter until she was tense and trembling—skirting the edge of her release. Every rapid hammer of her heart was muffled by every wanton moan that escaped upon every breath she took.

Ahk’s shoulders started to roll as his tongue slid and pressed and flitted to taste her, lapping up every ounce of her arousal with glee. He added a finger, then another, both hooking perfectly inside her causing Nouke's hips to buckle and her hands to tug his curls, finally tumbling over the peak of pleasure with a long moan.

All at once, Nouke’s breath caught as a flush spread across her chest. Her vision tunneled, graying the haze as he nipped the swollen bud, wrapping his lips around it and sucking as she came. She cried out, her body shaking, ears ringing, and wonderfully at the mercy of her climax.

Ahkmenrah slowed to delicate sweeps, carrying her gently through every tremble of her orgasm until she laid still. He waited until her fluttering stopped, sweetly kissed the juncture of her thigh in parting, then rocked onto his haunches to suck his fingers into his mouth, groaning happily while licking his fingers and glistening lips clean of her essence—obviously pleased with himself.

She smirked seeing his playful arrogance, and she implored him to kiss her with the peak of her tongue wetting her lips. Ahk’s grin grew; the puckish quirk of his gorgeously plump lips enough to work another wave of want to pool low in her belly.

He moved up her torso slowly, laying kisses to every inch of bared flesh, each spark sent to refuel her fire. When his mouth found hers, there was a musty undertone coating his lips that she quickly realized was her self, and Nouke chased the new tang with her tongue and ample curiosity.

Ahk shifted his weight, pressing his body against hers, kindling a euphoric friction that coupled deliciously with his dominating kiss, stirring a moan to spill from her lips. The hard line of his cock pressed against her hip evoked the familiar heat of desire and urgency to build rapidly. All at once, Nouke was overcome with the primal need to have him buried deep inside her.

“Ahk?” she bit out on a heated breath, breaking their kiss as her fingers moved to fumble the waistline of his only remaining garment.

Ahkmenrah grinned as a shiver shook him from the feel of her eager fingers toying with the fabric. Tenderly, he tilted their foreheads together, locking his eyes with hers, and she almost gasped seeing the affection swirling amidst the colors of blue and gray.

“Are you ready for me, my love?” he asked in a low bravado that made her shiver.

His hand snaked down every curve of her body before sliding a digit through her wet folds, causing her to exhale sharply.

“Yes,” she husked out just before Akh’s deft finger dipped inside, curling and making her body shake.

With a whine, she mourned it’s sudden loss while Ahkmenrah adjusted to make quick work of his shendyt. As he tossed the garment aside, Nouke took a moment to mentally thank all the gods responsible for creating someone as breathtakingly ethereal as her pharaoh—especially when she could marvel at all of his perfect assets properly.

Nouke half expected him to say something witty or charming when he returned her devilish grin, but instead, he surprised her by claiming her mouth, tenderly pulling her beneath him. In a swift, delicate thrust, he filled her, fixing them together as one being as her name tumbled from his lips in a guttural groan.

"Oh..fuck...you feel so good."

A shudder worked through her whole body as her legs wrapped around his waist, arms twining around his neck—relishing in the feel of him.

"So do you," Nouke gasped. The sensation was delightfully more profound than she previously thought possible. She savored every second, fearing the high would never truly be as grand as the initial time he sated her.

When her eyes fluttered open to share that moment with her magnificent king, his eyes were slits, his bottom lip caught between his teeth—the incarnation of pure ecstasy above her.

A slow undulation took to her hips, imploring him to move when he stayed still to savor her warmth around him as long as he could. Ahk hummed as she moved against him in search of friction, and he kissed her sweetly, carding his fingers through her hair.

"Make love to me, Ahkmenrah" she begged, rolling her pelvis against his, causing him to moan.

The pharaoh kissed her as he withdrew himself almost completely, then gently pushed back in teasingly slow, provoking a sigh past Nouke's lips. He set a firm, but unhurried rhythm that built the pleasurable pressure they were both starving for perfectly.

Nouke’s hands drifted from their place around his neck, raking her nails along his sculpted shoulders and down the muscles of his back, digging into his flesh in a gambit to hold her pharaoh against her. She was hungry to feel every inch of his body grinding with her own. When his thick fingers twisted and tangled into her hair, tugging firmly to tilt her head back, exposing the column of her throat, she sighed only to moan as his lips blazed a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck.

Ahkmenrah smiled at the sound he stirred and suckled with a little more fervor as he went, leaving multiple marks of his affection over her pulse and along her collarbone. She whined when his hand left her hair and rediscovered the globe of her breast, the soft pad of his thumb dancing over her nipple. They tingled to a point, and Ahk made an approving sound low in his chest.

The stimulation of his capable lips and hands, while his hips thrust into her with slow intimacy, was altogether otherworldly. Ahkmenrah worked her body with masterful finesse, able to conjure any noise he pleased with skillful ease. And she was lost in it. He loved her; she could feel it in every tender push of himself into her. Every move he savored as much as she did—her heart was unimaginably full.

Nouke’s hands fell to the curve of his flexing ass, nails sinking into the firm muscle. Ahkmenrah’s moan carried into the air, sweet and wonderfully obscene against the quiet; and Nouke captured his lips with a hungry kiss to muffle it.

Her enthusiasm prompted his tender rolling movements to give way to sharp, shorter thrusts that were delightful. Nouke was close; every hurried thrust and kiss tightened the coil in her abdomen, and the strain on Ahk’s face told her he was teetering on the brink too.

With another thrust, she crested, back bowing, and the rush of blood in her ears muffled her own cries: his name breathless on her lips and tangled in a string of other deities. Ahk’s hands cradled her, twisting behind her back to carry her through every moment of utter euphoria.

“I’ve got you, my love,” he murmured next to her ear—his voice low and smokey. “I’ve got you.”

His thrusts slowed to their previous gentle pace as she trembled and rode the rest of her release in his arms until she stilled. When her eyes opened, Ahk’s were on her’s, captivated.

He was still unsatisfied inside her, heavy with need, but he laid just as still as she did, awe twinkling in his eyes.

“Your turn,” Nouke husked out in a heated breath, her lips quirking into a smile as she traced his jaw with the tips of her fingers.

He smiled before they kissed, and she could feel his affection bursting from the meditative draw of his lips.

The roll of his hips gradually reached a frantic rhythm, desperate to find his own release as an animalistic sound rumbled past his lips when her textured walls tightened around him with every thrust.

Nouke’s devilish grin was hard to quell as she took in the sight of her king; the sheen of sweat glistening on his furrowed brow, lips swollen and wet, his eyes shut tight with concentration. Ahkmenrah had always been breathtaking, but seeing him wrapped in the throes of passion painted him in a new light that had her mouth watering.

Another wanton sound tumbled from his mouth when Nouke guided him close enough to draw her tongue over his Adam’s apple—suckling and teasing his neck to leave her own mark for the world to see. He shuddered, and his desperate thrusts grew even more erratic as she worked him to the peak of his passion every way she knew how.

Ahkmenrah came with her name spilling sloppily from his mouth in a flurry of sounds that swiftly molded into throaty moans. She felt him twitch inside her, a hot splash filling her with his seed, then he went still.

Nouke watched his half lidded eyes slowly drift to her while she gingerly toyed with the curls on his head, lulling him gradually back to reality.

“I love you,” he murmured, eyes sparkling down at her.

Nouke was certain her smile was absurd and telling of her affection. Her heart was pounding hearing him say those little words.

“And I, you. Now and forever.”

He matched her grin, kissing her once more, and maneuvered to lay next to her. Nouke fit herself to his form—he was warm in the cool air of night—resting her chin on his chest.

“Stay,” she begged gently, not wanting their time together to ever end.

He met her marveling eyes with a softness that wrapped around her heart and mended everything to have ever broken it.

"I wouldn’t dream of ruining this moment in any way.”

Tears threatened to prickle her eyes, but Nouke fought them. Instead, she kissed his chest and nestled herself there, where the thrumming sound of his heart could lull her to sleep as she hugged him to ensure he never again left her.

Moment by moment, the weight of the world faded around them until all that remained was the weight of the other tethering them to reality.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Thirteen: Love Over Duty

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