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#i am once again steeling stuff from the sound of music
bahamutgames · 11 months
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CHAINED AFTERTHOUGHTS
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Game: Chained Echoes (December 8, 2022)
Console: Xbox One (Via Xbox Game Pass)
ALRIGHT! After a long and stressful move, a long and stressful destressing period, and just generally being busy. I finally wanna share some more thoughts on games I played recently. I figure I should start with Chained Echoes. Cause it's already been like 2 months since I beat it and with my steel trap mind (for keeping thoughts OUT rather than in) it's only a matter of time before I forget what the game was even called... What was I talking about?
I only found out about this game a little before it launched, but it looked GREAT and so I had my eyes on it for a bit, sadly I couldn't pick it up right away. But thankfully, Game Pass once again came in clutch and I was able to play through Chained Echoes on a trial! And now I'm gonna tell YOU what I thought!
As I always say, this isn't a review. This is just a messy write up on my thoughts about the game! Don't expect some sort of definitive review or well structured writing! If you're even slightly interested in the game, please check it out and support the hard working devs!
SPOILERS FOR CHAINED ECHOES AHEAD!! DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY SPOILERS!!
Opening
As I'm sure you all know, I'm a bit of an RPG fan. I haven't played all the greats, but I am always on the look out for something new and interesting to play. And nowadays most of the best turnbased RPG experiences generally come from indie games. So when I saw this game making the rounds as a call back to older turnbased RPGs, but with a wholly unique story and world that does everything its own way, I was really interested! It took me a bit to truck through the game but I'm very glad I played it finally!
Stuff I liked
Man, where to begin? Chained Echoes is AWESOME! There's so much love and passion poured into pretty much every corner of the game. First thing you'll probably notice is how WONDERFUL the sprite art is! The graphics of Chained Echoes seriously look AMAZING! Everything in this game looks wonderful! From the environments, to the enemies, to the characters themselves. The music is also sooooo good! Relisting to the soundtrack while writing this, I absolutely LOVE how it all sounds! It all feels perfectly right at home in an RPG if that makes any sense aha. The battle themes in particular are great, like "Never Forget Our Promise"!
And those characters, in addition to have really nice designs. Are all great! I actually really liked every team mate in the game (with a few exceptions but I still used Robb a BUNCH despite him being an awful person for most of the game lol). My team by the end was
Glenn > Amalia
Victor > Robb
Ba'Thraz (of course) > Mikah
Sienna > Lenne
And yeah you see that right, 8 teammates! This game has an AWESOME system where you can have 4 reserve teammates in addition to your main team and swap them out with each other mid battle! Which ROCKS and means you aren't gonna have to leave all your favorites behind. You can make use of most of the team in a single battle!
The whole game has a lot of systems to take the stress off usual JRPG burdens and also add a lot of unique flare to the game. Stuff like fully replenishing your team between battles is a GREAT touch that reminds me of Chrono Cross. Where it allows and encourages you to go all out in each encounter, rather than saving it (and potentially wasting it) at a boss. That's probably the biggest one people bring up. But there's also stuff like the Overdrive Bar, which encourages you to make a wide range of attacks to keep the bar in check so you don't spam your best skills over and over. This is a really neat concept and also a neat balancing tool since you get fully healed after each fight. Some of my favorite systems in the game were absolutely the ability to find random smaller teammates around the world who help from the home base in smaller ways. And also the reward board! Where you do small quests and earn rewards, then by linking those rewards together can get even bigger rewards! I actually found myself doing TONS of side content in this game cause it was just fun and easy to do thanks to the quick travel and the Sky Armors.
And that's not even all the cool stuff in Chained Echoes. The way you level up and learn new moves is cool, learning and equipping unique abilities is cool, emblems, even crafting (something I usually dread) is pretty neat in this game. And then of course there's the unique Sky Armor battles which are also cool. There's SO many unique systems in this game and they're all VERY cool!
The story is also neat, I like the world they created for the game. Particularly I thought the mana flow stuff was fantastic and very interesting. And the True Kings were SOOOO awesome! I loved the concepts behind them so much! And the different races were great, always appreciate any game with lizard people. And the classic clashing against the gods is always a nice touch, I LOVED the Gurren Lagann influence in this game. Great choice to include nods to that in here.
Also, yeah the ending of this game is VERY strong. A lot of games can fumble the finale, but Chained Echoes actually has a great and satisfying ending in my opinion. Genuinely almost cried while recapping it to someone after I beat it lol.
Stuff I Didn't Like
And, even though it is filled with so much creative stuff and interesting systems... Chained Echoes is not perfect... Let me start with the biggest issue in my opinion: The fights in this game can be TOTAL BULLSHIT sometimes! Don't get me wrong, the systems are all REALLY cool and the fights are genuinely neat! But sometimes... Oh man... Sometimes they are just total chores and last SOOO long!! The first major boss lasts FOREVER. And that wouldn't be a huge problem, especially since you start every fight at full power no matter what. Except for that pesky little Overdrive Bar.
On their own all these concepts and systems are GREAT, but it's once you start getting them all a little mixed in with eachother that they become a massive pain in the ass imo. Going through SUPER long fights, made even longer because you can't go all out on the enemy because you have to babysit the bar nonstop. Then losing the whole fight cause your teammates are dead and you can't properly use all the different moves to control the bar. It's a cycle. And especially early in when they CONSTANTLY MAKE YOU USE UTILITY MOVES EVEN THOUGH YOU DON'T LEARN ANY FOR A GOOD WHILE! It sounds small, but to me it made the game almost impossible at some steps.
And you can't grind either, which I know is a blessing to a lot of people. But I like grinding because it's an easy and measurable problem solver with an easy to see goal. But in Chained Echoes, you only level up after a boss fight, where you spend the boss fight currency I forgot the name of to learn new moves. So... if you just have the wrong moves for a fight? Tough. Your ass is NOT progressing. Again, all these concepts are GREAT! And I think with a bit of tweaking, they can all flow together nicely. But I don't know. They just... Didn't imo. I think having enemies also have to deal with an Overdrive bar would make fights feel on more equal footing? But obviously that could make the game too easy if you're not careful.
And you CAN lower the difficulty, but imo medium is just absolutely brutal, while easy makes the game unbearably easy. It's not a good middle ground. By the end of the game I straight up could NOT beat the final boss. So I had to go down to easy. Which was disappointing. Idk. Just made the whole game insanely frustrating to me even though it is forgiving.
I also have some other issues. Some NPCs deserved more time over others (Sienna's wife should've been a teammate and I WISH SO BADLY YOU GOT TO INTERACT WITH MORE OF THE TRUE KINGS!!). There's a lot of weird writing choices like I seem to recall there being NO contractions which is a nitpick but it always bugs me. A particularly big problem I have is. And I can't believe I'm gonna say this. Sexual Assault / Maybe Homophobia TW??? There's some story beats that REALLY rub me the wrong way. Particularly, Killian's backstory is that his sister was sexually assaulted into a coma. The coma part makes for a very compelling backstory, but the SA part is... completely unneeded. Like, I don't think it's ever mentioned ever again in the game. Which you COULD argue is good. But then. Why include it at all? Also I feel like Killian sleeping with another man is presented in a kind of homophobic way? Or at the very least, why is there no gay couple that's like, actually happy and together? To be fair there isn't a lot of love and romance in general but still. Idunno.
Final Thoughts
And even still? Despite the MASSIVE headache this game was to get through at times??? Immediately after I finished it, all I could remember was everything cool about it. The amazing music, the wonderful sprite art, the cool story, the great ideas, the times where I did like 50 reward board goals in a single sitting cause I couldn't put it down. There's a reason the massive roadblocks didn't stop me from playing. And it's because Chained Echoes is a fantastic RPG. I didn't want to give up at those roadblocks, no matter how many swears they made me shout. Because the game is genuinely cool as hell. (plus it doesn't help I realized you have to equip abilities learned through level ups until the end of the game). I think Chained Echoes is a game I will love even more when I get the chance to replay it in the future with a deeper understanding of how the game works and what I did wrong in the first playthrough.
Genuinely if you're into RPGs and you haven't given this game a shot yet... well, why did you read this? And also, I think you should give Chained Echoes a shot and see how you feel about it! Maybe you'll have an easier time with it and then you'll realize I actually suck at video games.
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Thanks for reading. I'm a little out of practice so this one is probably particularly messy. But I keep thinking about it and I just REALLY wanted to talk about some damned vidjya games! Since the move I've been mostly playing older stuff on Nintendo Switch Online cause my time has been very limited. But I'm hoping to return to more RPG goodness soon with Dragon Quest II!
In the mean time, as always you can follow me on twitter to see in real time whatever the hell I'm playing instead of doing work to make money and be useful. Stop by! You might like what you find!
That's all from me, thanks for your time. Go out and play a game with cool new ideas!
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musicreveiwsbyezti · 2 months
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January Topster
I listened to a lot of metal this month...like 10/14 of the new stuff I listened this month was metal. Anyways unnecessary ranking instead of giving you an actual reason to listen to them
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Last place: Nailbomb-Point Blank (industrial/trash metal) It's not bad... it's just boring for me for some reason. I probably should revisit one day.
13th: bliss3three-C3L3STIAL (vaporwave) Vaporware is not really my thing, but I had this album on my must listen list for a while so I forced myself to go through with it. It's... OK. It has a good vibe but besides that I don't really think I will come back to it for a while (Carousel and Rebirth slaps tho).
12th: Hanabie-characters that I can't read but it's their second album(kawaiicore/metalcore) It's fun. Just silly songs for silly goose who love metalcore.
11th: Acasia-Acasia (dungeon/wintersynth) Now this is a really well put together dungeon synth album and atmosphere got nailed so well. I am looking forward to their next projects.
10th: Kylesa-Static Tensions (sludge/stoner metal) Once again a well put together album. However like its high high get complimented with really boring lows. The different vocals are interesting choice, though some switch arounds or different takes would have been interesting to hear.
9th: Agalloch-The Mantle (black/folk metal) I maybe be too judgmental on this because I set up a way too high expectations (I was stupid enough to expect an Ulver type approach to black/folk metal) Still it delivers very well. The acoustic parts FUCK
8th: Alice in Chains-Dirt (grunge) Before I get crucified by Alice in Chains fans for preferring the other 2 grunge bands (I know they're allergic to even their names), I still think AiC is a great band and Dirt proves that... but oh my god the vocals feel weird at the most random points at the album. I almost stopped at listening at Sickman because it is the first song in a good while that I genuinely can't listen through due to sounding this bad. I am glad I haven't stopped because the rest of the album is at least good. On the other hand, just like with the 10th place, the high highs are complimented with lows that are... questionable to say the least (Still strong 8 out of 10, hell on a good day it's a 9 for me).
7th place: Pig Destroyer-Terrifyer (grindcore) A good grindcore album is like a good doughnut. They remind me that cops are class traitors. Anyways, great album.
6th place: Cryptotopsy-None So Vile (brutal death metal) My only problem with brutal death is the vocals usually don't deliver well, but oh boy they be delivering great here. By that I mean that I can't understand a thing and it makes the vocals feel like a brand new instrument.
5th: Bolt Thrower-Warmaster (death metal) Oh my GOD... this album FUCKS SO HARD. More Bolt Thrower dickriding in 3th placement, I still have a list to write.
4th: Parannoul-To See the Next Part of the Dream (shoegaze) Short background, I have a friend who is a big time Kpop fan so I decided to check out something Korean. I am happy with my decision. Analog Sentimentalism alone would put this album on top 10 for me. The drumming on the album is next level, I love when the drums don't get thrown into the background but get embraced.
3th: Bolt Thrower-Those Once Loyal (death metal) Fun Fact: BT officially stopped making music after finishing this album, because they realised that they can't peak this album. They are right. This album has become the definition of death metal for me. Also studying World War 1 for my History exam while listening to songs from this album on repeat might have helped me... I swear that I'm not an edgy asshole.
2th: Type o Negative-Bloody Kisses (goth/doom metal) Peter Steele has a great voice, plays the bass like a king and is sexy as fuck. Even the satirical songs on this album go insanely hard, which most bands can't even make it clear that they're satirical. Black No. 1 makes me feel things that I can't just write down... I hope it's not just me getting horny for a guy with a majestic voice... I swear that I'm straight
1th: Judas Priest-Painkiller (Speed/Heavy metal) This album is the most metal thing in the entire universe. The title track could make me run a marathon after waking me up from a coma. Listening to it probably increased my testosterone levels. Also the album cover goes a 180 on being cringe to becoming cool. If you tell me that the band sat down discussing what is "metal" and they just threw out the most edgy ideas they had and somehow found a guy who could visualise it, and that's how this cover came to be. I would believe you without giving it a second thought.
That's all I found during this January. I am grateful for finally deciding to check these out. I hope at least someone read through it because I should have been studying for school :3
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Erestor’s first dinner at Imladris
Erestor: you know Lord Elrond, i really need to thank your children and staff for the little surprise they left in my office. i wonder how they knew that i love spiders.
Elladan and Elrohir: *start to sniffle*
Arwen: *sobs*
Gildor: *covers mouth with hand*
Glorfindel: *looks down*
Lindir: *starts to shake*
Erestor: after all it’s important that you make new members of staff feel welcome and wanted. i really appreciate that they went out of there way to make me feel comfortable and happy
Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen: *burst in to tears*
Gildor: *starts sobbing*
Glorfindel: *tears start rolling down his cheeks*
Lindir: *screams and cries*
Lord Elrond: what’s going on, why is everyone crying?! 
Erestor: oh no don’t worry, they’re just happy
Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, Gildor, Glorfindel and Lindir: *screams, sobs and cries*
Erestor: *smiles*
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bucks-metal-arm19 · 3 years
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Nightmares and Love-Making
Paring: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Daddy kink, talk of nightmares, cursing, voyeurism, dirty talk, face sitting, squirting, slight praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed anything! 
18+ only!
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Welcome to my first Bucky Barnes one-shot! This stems from the fact that I couldn't find the smut I wanted so I just wrote it myself. I hope you like it! As always, it isn't looked over so all mistakes are my own :)
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You caught him at a bad time- in the middle of what seemed to be a horrific nightmare as he slept on his makeshift bed on the floor. You knew he couldn't sleep in his normal bed in his normal bedroom, and you knew that the king-sized mattress was still adorned with the solid black fabric set you had gotten for him as his first official birthday present. He told you, one night as the two of you escaped to the roof of Stark tower, that the bed made him feel like he was getting swallowed alive. He was used to sleeping on a solid floor, with the thinnest blanket one could find and so that's what he did at his own home. home- he was still getting used to even having a home. 
“Buck? Bucky, wake up! It’s a dream, just a dream! JAMES, WAKE UP!” You hollered, having dropped your stuff at the door and running to collapse on your knees next to the man as you urged him to wake up. 
“Wh-what? J-just a dream?” He had finally quit shaking, and became coherent enough to realize that he was no longer at the HYDRA base, and was, in fact, in his own apartment with you holding him close to your chest. 
“Yes, just a dream. I promise, you’re okay.” His fingers were clutching the arm you had draped across his midsection and you knew that his vibranium fingers would be leaving imprints on your skin for you to wear for the coming week. 
“I thought...I thought...they had taken you. Hurt you. And I couldn't stop them. Could hear you screaming for me and I was powerless to fight all of them off. I couldn't...I couldn't save you.” He was sobbing, moans of a broken man being screamed into your skin as he clutched you like a lifeline. Your heart broke as you held him, quietly cooing and stroking his hair as you waited for him to come back to you. 
It didn't happen though; instead, his body steeled in a form of mental resolve and suddenly you were under him. Your back was laid flat against the cold wood of the floor and your hands were pinned above your head. You didn't even have time to gasp audibly as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them so that they had to wrap around his waist. You wanted to fear him, could feel your mind racing to find ways to get out from his grasp, but you were curious to see what would happen with this new side of Bucky. Almost feral with the way that he was panting, eyes darker than coal as he stared you down like you were his prey. 
“You will not be taken from me, you are mine. Do you hear me? No one will ever take you from me.” Bucky’s voice had dropped ten octaves between words, and you would be lying if you said that it did not make your heart skip a beat in anticipation. 
“I’m yours, Buck. Forever.” You promised, licking your lips that had suddenly become dry. 
“Say it again.” He growled, deep in his chest, as he leaned down to nuzzle against your collarbone and breathe in your scent. 
Your head fell back in submission, allowing him to press feather-light kisses and bruising bites against your throat as you murmured, “I’m yours, Bucky Barnes. Always.” 
“Yes, you are, sweetheart.” He had you flipped to your stomach in a second, with your arms still above your head.
“What are you gonna do to me, Buck?” You whispered, but you knew that he could hear you. 
“I’m going to ruin you, princess. Gonna absolutely fuckin’ ravish you until the only words you know are ‘please’ and ‘daddy.’ Gonna make you cum on my cock until you're crying, oversensitive, and begging me to stop. But you’re a good girl, my good girl, and you’ll take all of it until I fill you full of my cum. Then I’m going to run you a warm bath in my tub and I’m going to take care of you. Nurse your aches and lotion your bruises and then cradle you in my arms as we both drift to sleep. Does that sound good to you?” You can hear the cheekiness in his tone, but it’s laced with authority and you knew better than to deny him. Besides, everything he just said sounded wonderful and so you nodded your agreement. 
“Words, princess. Use them.” He ordered, the grip on your wrists tightening in warning. 
“Yes, Daddy.” You obliged, and the dark chuckle that erupted from his throat held a sinful promise. 
“Wonderful.” That old-time drawl curled around the single word and suddenly you were resting on your elbows with your ass in the air. 
Your stomach clenched and you could feel your pussy pulsate as arousal began to collect in your panties. Buck was still draped over your back, and he was rubbing his growing erection over the fabric of his cotton sweats while he contemplated what he wanted to do to you first. It was only a moment, but the single beat of a second was all he needed before he had your jeans around your ankles and had settled on his back between your spread thighs. 
“What are yo-” you began to question, but the words were cut off as each of his ten fingers wrapped around hips and he yanked you down so that his mouth and nose were buried within your cloth-covered cunt. 
You heard him take a deep inhale through his nose and he let out the filthiest, bone-melting groan that you had ever heard him utter. Your nipples pebbled instantly beneath your lace bra and your eyes fluttered closed as you heard him chuckle once more. 
“God, you smell fuckin’ delicious, kitten. All wet and warm, just for me.” His nose nudged against your swollen clit as he licked a broad stripe up over your slit once and then again before using his teeth to yank the sodden fabric to the side so he could taste you properly. 
A shudder wracked through your body from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he continued his licks, collecting all of your wetness on his tongue and fucking his tongue into your leaking hole as his nose connected to rub up against your sensitive clit. 
“Oh fuck, Bucky. Christ.” You whined, rocking your hips against his face without meaning to but the way he was gripping your hips and tugging you closer told you that he didn't mind the possibility of suffocation. 
“Can't wait to be buried inside this tight, sweet cunt.” Buck snarled, using the hold he had on you to flip you onto your back. He thought ahead- as always- and made sure that your head would be safe as it fell against his pile of pillows on the floor. 
“Then bury yourself, Daddy. Fuck me.” You husked out, pupils blown wide in lust and adoration as you continued to fuck yourself onto his tongue. 
“Not yet, doll. Want you to cum on my face first. Damn near suffocate between these gorgeous thighs.” He ordered, eyes blazing as he gazed at you from between your legs. 
“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, fingers clutching and clawing at your still-covered tits while you chased the high building inside your body. 
White-hot heat began radiating from your fingers first, and then your limbs, and then from every inch of your body as you threw yourself over the edge of your orgasm and came undone as you rode Buck’s face like it was the best thing you had ever experienced. And it was- each orgasm he gave you always outdid the last. 
“You’re so beautiful when you come, kitten. But you’re not done yet.” Buck finally managed to say as he untangled himself from your jeans and clenching thighs so he was standing before you in all of his glory. 
“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy? Gonna use your cock and fill me up so I can help you forget all your worries?” You grinned up at him, still panting as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.
“Yes, princess. I am.” His tone held no malice, and his eyes were watching you with lustful enjoyment as he mentally cataloged the image of you like this to his brain. 
“Then fuck me, already.” You taunted, leaning up just enough to yank your shirt over your head and then followed it with your bralette so you were finally bare beneath him. 
“You don't make the orders, you take them. Do NOT forget that.” The mirth that had overtaken him left suddenly and he was back on you in a second, sweats gone as he pinned you to the floor with no exertion given on his part. 
“Yes, Daddy.” You nodded, grinning as if you had won the lottery as your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist once more. 
“Now you’re gonna take my cock, kitten. It’s what you wanted, right?” He was back to nosing against your neck, as if the past ten minutes had not just occurred. 
“If you think you can do it.” You taunted once more, ankles digging into the skin right above the base of his spine so you could rut against him like a dog in heat, absolutely no shame in your body as you used him for the friction you needed to get off. 
“Is that how you want to play it? Fine.” He shrugged, as if you had just spoken about the weather, but the single motion he used had you back on your hands and knees in an instant. 
“I don't think I can do it.” Buck began to speak as he kicked your legs apart once more, metal hand pressing down on the small of your back so the arch you held deepened and you were presented to him like an offering. 
“I know I can.” And he slid inside you to the hilt, a single thrust that glided through your folds like butter and all thanks to the spit and arousal he created as he had eaten you out like his last meal. 
Your mind blanked in an instant and a groan ripped out of your throat that sounded foreign to your own ears but sounded like the best kind of music to Bucky. You collapsed to your elbows, head falling to rest against the single blanket that Buck slept with when you weren't here. 
“Ah, ah- no, you don't.” Bucky tutted between his teeth, flesh hand reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and wrap it around his fingers before pulling back so you were back onto your hands and could watch him through the mirror that sat adjacent from you. 
“Look at you, kitten. Covered in hickies and bruises and panting like a whore in heat. And yet, you’re taking my cock so well. So fuckin’ tight and WARM, just like the first time we had sex. Your pretty pussy, stretching around my thick cock as I fuck you into oblivion. Absolutely ravishing.” Bucky always got mouthy when he was lost in your shared passion, and it did things to you that you couldn't explain. 
“Keep your eyes on me while I make you fall apart.” He ordered, using the grip he had on your hip and the hold he had of your hair to fuck you like his life depended on it. 
“Yes, Sarge.” You grinned wickedly as you saw his lips turn up into a leer, knowing full-well what that name did to him. 
“Call me that again.” Bucky growled, letting go over your hair so he could lean forward over your frame to get a hand between your thighs to rub against your still swollen, sensitive clit. 
“Make me cum, Sergeant Barnes. Please.” You tacked on the last word for good measure, already feeling the familiar tendrils of heat curl around your lips and rush through your veins as he pounded into you with wild abandon. 
The clack clack clacking that his dog tags made against his chest after every move simply spurred him on, as if he was racing them for every thrust he made into your pussy, claiming it as his own. As if you ever even thought to let another man near it. He’d kill them before they even thought that they had a chance with you, and you both knew it. More often than not, he forgets that he’s even wearing them, but he knew that they were a kink of yours and he thanked every god he could think of that he wears them when he’s got you begging underneath him. Begging to cum, begging for harder, begging for faster, begging for Daddy to make her forget her own name while he buries himself inside her. Begging to be used and degraded and taunted and shown off like a prize that only he gets to win. Every moment of every minute of every day, from the moment they met until the end of time. And he loved every single damn second of it.
He was grunting, groaning, panting, cursing every word under the Sun as he rubbed tight circles into your wet clit while he sheathed himself inside you over and over and ov-, “FUCK!”
You came without warning, the damn bursting inside your pussy as you fell to your elbows once more while absolutely drenching his cock as you squirted for the first time. Shudders were wracking your body as you cursed and moaned and whined out Bucky’s name, vision turning black as you lost all sense of time during your orgasm. Your cunt turned into a vice on Bucky’s cock and it made him see God as he gave you one, two, three strokes before burying himself deep inside you and cumming in thick ropes across your hot, tight walls. 
He fell on top of you, losing all muscle usage as pleasure roared through his body like he had never experienced before. He had enough sense to cushion you from the force of his body, but that was all he could offer as he rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm of his life. You managed to come to your senses first, and gently pulled away from Bucky so he could begin to come to his own bearings. 
“That was...that was...wow.” You mumbled, vision still blurry as you threatened to pass out from too much mental and physical stimulus all at once. 
“Well, it’s not begging but it is a nice Segway. Ready for that bath?” Bucky was able to stitch together a coherent sentence faster than you thought he would and you couldn't help but laugh in both amusement and amazement that this wonderful man was all yours. Even if he did fuck you senseless. Literally. 
“I love you, Bucky Barnes. Always.”
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one-boring-person · 3 years
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Can You Do Me A Favour?
Barney Ross (The Expendables) x reader
Warnings: injury, drinking, sexual content implied, mentions of violence, swearing
Context: the reader is a member of the Expendables and has a crush on Barney. After a job, the two have some time together.
A/N: as promised, here is some Expendables stuff! I hope anyone who reads this will enjoy it! (Just a heads up: I have more Rambo and Escape Plan stuff coming, and most likely some more TLB content, too.)
Masterlist
(I'm also going to tag @yuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in this, because they expressed interest in Expendables stuff earlier😊💛)
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The cold water is pleasant on my heated skin as I cup my hands under the steady stream flowing from the tap, splashing it into my face when a suitable pool has formed in the space. A gasp escapes me from the stark contrast in temperatures, using my fingers to rub slightly at my skin, trying to work out the headache that has set in, only to hiss when I accidentally press into one of the new scars on the side of my face. Pulling back, I repeat my action, doing my best to distract myself from the plaguing thoughts in my head, still disgusted at myself for having them.
But even now, as I massage the contours of my face, I can't get the images of my boss out of my head. Not the sight of him taking out a ring of attackers using his revolver and sharpshooting skills, not the way his exposed arm muscles flexed with each movement, not the determined look on his rugged face and certainly not the fierce eye contact he made with me when he turned around again. At the mere memory of this, a flush of heat goes through me, eyes squeezing shut to force myself to blank them out, not quite realising that his stare is branded into my subconscious. Biting my lip, I shake my head, forcing down the picture of his muscular body and large hands on my body as he dragged me from the collapsing building, not five hours ago.
Growling, I reach over and grab hold of the beer bottle nearby, glancing at my haggard features in the mirror before taking a deep drink, wincing at the stale flavour, having had the drink for far too long. I can see the tension in my body, each muscle tight and uncomfortable, my posture ramrod straight and clearly wrong, my eyes clouded with exhaustion and what I can only assume is loneliness. 
As soon as I'd gotten in from the last job, I'd headed straight into the bathroom, grabbing a beer from the fridge as I went, needing to clear my head. Nothing I did could help, my head always circling back to that one person. Frustrated, I slam the bottle on the counter top, wincing when it shatters from the force, a particularly sharp shard slicing into my palm.
Damn him. Damn Barney Ross for getting into my head.
I clean up my hand, just bandaging it up when my phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. Frowning, I look over at it, confused. Nobody calls me. Nobody, except my boss.
Picking up the phone, I groan to myself as I realise it is, in fact, Barney. For a second, I debate letting it go to voicemail, before I finally give in, accepting the call and placing the phone to my ear.
"Sir?" I greet him politely, wondering what he needs.
"How many times have I told you not to call me "sir"?" Barney's gravelly voice sounds through the phone, a low chuckle evident in his tone. I have to ignore the effect his voice has on me, the sound giving me butterflies in my stomach.
"Sorry, sir- ah, shit." I sigh at my own habit, "You alright?"
"Yeah, guess so. Just lonely. Figured you might be, too." He admits, tone going soft as he speaks.
"Bold of you to assume that." I tease, but continue, "Though you are, as always, right."
"Should tell Christmas that, might listen to you." The veteran laughs again, the joke drawing a similar reaction from me.
"We all know he listens to no one but himself." I quip back, still waiting for him to tell me why exactly he called.
"True, true." Barney's grin is almost audible, my mind instantly bringing up an image of that particular expression into my head, much to my chagrin, "You got any plans for tonight?"
Surprised, I take a second to reply, unsure of where this is going.
"No, it's too late. Ain't really got many friends outside work, anyway." I inform him, going out of the bathroom and into the lounge.
"Fancy coming over? I've got a couple of beers that need drinking, and the hangar is pretty lonely this time of night." 
His offer stumps me for a moment, though I am quick to recover, my mouth working before my mind can catch up.
"Yeah sure. I'll be over in twenty." 
"Great. See you then." He hangs up, leaving me wondering why the hell I accepted that, knowing how much I spend too much time thinking about him (in totally inappropriate ways considering he's my boss) anyway.
Annoyed at myself, I steel myself before going and grabbing a coat, pulling on that and my boots as I leave the flat, taking my motorcycle keys with me. I lock my door behind me, leaving the apartment block quickly, glad to have the fresh air on my face as I make my way over to my motorbike. Looking on it fondly, I climb on and kick out the stand, easily getting it revved up, the vibrating engine beneath me a pleasant feeling. 
Thankfully, the roads are mostly clear this time of night, cutting the twenty minute drive short by five minutes as I go at speed through the nearly deserted outer city. The hangar is usually a pain in the ass to get to, the traffic in the roads leading up to it almost always horrific, so I am only too happy to be able to go much faster now that there's not many other drivers around. With the wind rushing around me, I find that my head clears a little, my attention on navigating the roads rather than the thoughts of my boss doing things to me I'm sure he'd find grotesque in nature. 
I arrive quickly, pulling into the hangar slowly, knowing Barney is most likely in the plane, as he usually is. Stopping the bike, I put it in park before climbing off, hanging my helmet on the handlebars as I do so, taking the keys with me as I walk over to the old plane. Nearing the aircraft, I frown a little at the sight of the new bullet holes riddling the side of it, unaware that we'd taken so much damage earlier in the day. Sighing, I go inside, ducking in through the small door, only now hearing the music playing from the stereo in the cockpit.
"It's gonna need a new lick of paint." I call out to Barney, who I can see sat in his seat, the muscular man turning to look at me as he hears me.
"It's been a long time coming, so I'm not complaining." He replies, grinning at me as I walk into the cockpit, dropping into Christmas' usual seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach from his stare on me again. As I enter, he rakes his eyes over my body, subtly taking my every curve in from where he is.
"Fair enough." I shrug, leaning back slightly, having missed his look, "Got a beer?"
"Yeah, here." Barney hands me a bottle, opening it for me as he does so.
"Cheers." I thank him, taking a deep drink from it as he chuckles lowly, voice sending a bolt of heat through me.
"You're starting to sound like Lee." He remarks, sipping his own bottle with a smirk.
"Should I take that as a compliment? Or an insult?" 
"Up to you." He looks over at me.
"Eh, I'll take compliment. You two get along like an old married couple, after all. Must mean something if you're comparing me to him." I decide, teasing him.
Barney laughs at my comment, lifting his bottle.
"I can agree with that." He hums, staring out of the front window.
For a couple of moments, we sit in companionable silence, drinking our beers, Barney eventually lighting a cigar. Taking a deep inhale, he offers it to me, which I decline, choosing to finish my drink instead.
"What do you usually do after a job?" Barney suddenly asks, glancing back at me.
Surprised, I think over the question for a second.
"Nothing, really. I get myself cleaned up, have a drink, then get some sleep. I don't do much else with my life." I tell him, knowing how pathetic I sound.
"What, you haven't got anyone you can hang out with?" He questions, seemingly confused.
"No. As I said before, I don't really have any friends outside work."
"Really? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?"
I shake my head, grimacing at the turn in conversation, just missing the slight darkening in his eyes as he looks me over once more.
"Huh. That surprises me." 
Lifting an eyebrow, I look across at him.
"Why?"
He shrugs, making eye contact with me.
"Well, you seem like the person who wouldn't struggle to make friends. You're kind, funny, pretty. You know how to behave in the right situations, you're a good friend to have." He clarifies, seemingly unaware of the impact his words have on me, my heart throbbing as I listen to him, longing building up in me again.
"You think so?" I ask, not quite believing him.
"Yeah, I do." He frowns, looking over at me, "Why, don't you?"
I don't reply, knowing my answer well. He doesn't push it, observing me carefully, his gaze making me blush furiously.
"What'd you do to your hand?" The veteran suddenly asks, gesturing to my bandaged appendage.
"Hm? Oh, I just cut it on some glass back home." I inform him, flexing my hand a little, only to wince at the sharp spike of pain. 
Wordlessly, Barney reaches across and takes my hand in his, his touch setting off sparks through me despite the gentle nature of it. Pulling my arm closer to him, he runs his fingers lightly over my skin, the rough calluses rubbing over the palm of my hand, each stroke making it harder for me to fight off the rising need within me. Being this close to him, able to smell him in nearly every surface around me, feeling his hand on mine has sparked the feelings I've been suppressing as long as I've worked with him. 
Awkwardly, I pull away, swallowing tightly, trying to suppress the urges I'm suddenly feeling, needing to get myself together again. He doesn't stop me, his dark eyes regarding me quietly, observant as always as he seemingly considers something, his gaze sliding over me once more. After a moment, he puts out his cigar, leaning back in his seat.
"Mind doing me a favour?" The muscular man cocks his head at me, a small smirk playing at his lips.
"Er, sure? What do you need?" I agree hesitantly, knowing that expression means only one thing: he's got something up his sleeve.
"Check that control panel up there, would you? It's been giving me trouble for weeks." Barney's eyes are glittering now in the dim light, clearly up to something.
"What, now?" I frown, confused by the instruction.
"If you wouldn't mind." 
Lifting an eyebrow, I place my beer down and get to my feet, awkwardly reaching up to check the panel, which just so happens to be right above his head. I try to keep my body from leaning across him too much, but this is made difficult when I realise that the particular problem lies in the switches even further over. As I go to flick them, a pair of hands takes hold of my waist, suddenly yanking me down towards the chair.
Yelping in surprise, I feel my eyes widen as Barney pulls me down onto his lap, hands tight on my hips, pressing my back flush against his chest. His nose instantly finds my neck, the older man nudging at my skin until I tilt my head to give him access, goosebumps spreading across my skin as I try to process what the hell is happening, my brain short-circuiting with every one of his breaths. They fan out over the sensitive area, my own hitching in my throat as his scruff scratches over my skin, his lips not quite touching me yet, though I can feel their every movement. 
I try to get back up, unwillingly, only for him to loop one of his arms around my front and slip his hand under my shirt, flattening his palm on my stomach to hold me against him.
"I'm not blind, you know, (Y/n). I've seen the way you look at me, the way you behave differently when you're with me. You're not as subtle as you hope." Barney practically purrs into my skin, his smirk obvious against my neck, sending shivers down my spine as I try not to groan.
"I- I don't know what you're talking about, sir." I manage out, not quite catching the sound of anticipation that escapes me when he suddenly presses his lips against my ear, whispering into it.
"Really? I think you know very well what I'm talking about." He grins to himself, the hand on my stomach running down to ghost over the waistband of my jeans, my body tensing in his grip, "Want me to demonstrate for you?
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eirikaanemo · 3 years
Text
My Celebrity Childhood Friend
Warnings: minor character death, sad feels
Venti x GN!Reader
2k Words
Tumblr media
Many years ago, when you were eight years old, you had two very close friends. Their names were Venti and Himmel. The three of you did everything together. You were very close. All of you thought your friendship would be forever and that you would always be close. But, unfortunately, that's not what happened.
One day you and Venti received the news that Himmel had passed away. It was really difficult for both of you to accept the reality of his death, grieve, and move on with your lives. In the end, you couldn’t even help each other. Spending time together only reminded you of how Himmel wasn’t there anymore.
Eventually Venti just couldn’t take it anymore. So his family moved out. Losing Himmel had hurt, but losing Venti too reopened the almost healing wound in your heart. He didn’t even say goodbye because he thought he’d chicken out if he did. And so there you were, friendless, hurt, and feeling very, very alone.
Your only solace was in practicing the piano. The three of you had all been learning instruments and playing together before. The idea was to become a band of sorts together and play music professionally. Himmel played violin, Venti played guitar, and you played piano. Playing the piano was all you had left of them, so you continued playing and practicing it.
Years pass and you move on as much as you can. You make new friends and try new things. Piano is still important to you but you do new things now too. But even with all of this, there’s a part of you that left with Venti and Himmel. The hurt in your heart is no longer a gaping wound. Yet the pain has never truly gone away.
Then one day you hear a familiar voice on the radio. That voice and guitar combo sounded very familiar. It was a good song and you enjoyed listening to it, but you just couldn’t get the feeling of familiarity out of your mind. However, once the radio host introduced the song, you immediately understood. “And that was Soaring Bird by The Bard. Venti really did himself proud on this one…,” they continued, but you were no longer listening.
Venti was on the radio! What could this mean? You hurriedly took out your phone and ran a search. There he was, Venti, also known as The Bard, is a singer/songwriter who rose to fame after a stint on a television talent show a couple months ago. Well, what do you know? Your childhood friend has followed your childhood dream.
Part of you feels left behind, but you accepted that had happened years ago. So instead you decided to be supportive! Suddenly you have a new favorite singer and you just have to have all his albums. Physical copies, so you can display them. Your bedroom walls are covered with posters.
You now have more The Bard themed t-shirts than you have regular shirts. There’s a concert of his you can go to? You’re there. You promote him with everyone you know. If you hadn’t converted your friends to the truth of Venti supremacy they probably would have gotten sick of your antics by now. Instead they’re almost as invested as you are.
When he finally releases a new album you are thrilled. It’s been almost a year since he released his last one and you’ve been starving for new content. You are first in line to the store to buy the album and listen to it as soon as possible. Track one through four are fantastic and you enjoy them a lot! But then track five starts to play.
It’s more melancholy and nostalgic than other songs he has written. And then you hear the words. The words touch your heart, soothing and healing some of the pain that has remained. At the end he takes a moment to dedicate it to his childhood friend, to you. Not by name, but you know what he means by “my old childhood friend”. You’re tearing up.
I’m sorry I was too blind to see
That you were suffering as much as me
You were left behind, I was moving on
And you were left to carry on
It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair
That I chose to just leave you there
We’re not really close now, are we
But I just want to say I’m sorry
You listened to it over and over again, crying in your room. Maybe it was stupid but that was something you didn’t even know you’ve been wanting to hear for years. Knowing that he felt bad about leaving you behind and hearing an apology from him meant the world to you.
And it just so happens that the song he dedicated to you is your friends’ new favorite song. If they didn’t know about your history with him before, then they sure know now. You’re still struggling to not cry every time it plays. Sure, maybe some of your dirty laundry was now being aired all around the world. But that wasn’t important.
What was important was that your heart was finally able to heal. You were truly able to feel happy again, for the first time since you were eight years old. Life had color again. There was more of a bounce to your step. Your friends noticed that your smiles even seemed more real now.
So when you learned that Venti would be doing an album signing event, you just knew you had to go. And you knew just which album you wanted to have signed. Now all you could think about was getting the album signed. How would he react to seeing you again? Would he recognize you? You really hope he does. It would really hurt if he doesn’t.
All of a sudden you’re now worrying if this is a good idea at all. Your friends managed to convince you to go, but you were really close to not going at all. And even now that you’re here at the signing you’re half considering running away. But instead you steel your courage and get in line.
You try not to think about it as the line slowly creeps forward. Making small talk with those around you in line might help, but you’re too nervous to even try social interaction. You’re twentieth in line, then tenth, then fifth, then second. Now it’s your turn and you approach the table he’s sitting at to sign the albums.
He’s wearing a white button up shirt, green slacks, and a green beanie with a flower on it. He’s dyed the tips of his braids teal and wears some light makeup to bring out the color of his eyes. You suddenly feel very underdressed as you anxiously walk up and hand him the album.
“Hi Venti,” you say softly. “It’s good to see you again.” He looks up sharply and freezes for a second, wide eyed. “Oh my gosh!” He exclaims, jumping up out of his seat. “It’s so good to see you again! It’s been so long!” You smile, feeling more comfortable and sure of yourself now that you know he recognizes you.
Someone behind him clears their throat and sits back down. “I can’t really talk right now,” he admits, sheepishly. “We don’t want to hold up the line, but hold on a sec.” He opens the album and scribbles something on the inside of the opaque cover. “That’s my number,” he whispers quietly to you. “Text me later, okay? I’ll get back to you when I can.”
You nod and move on, only realizing he didn’t actually sign the case until you were down the hall from where he was signing. Laughing a little, you sit down on a bench and pull out your phone. That was such a Venti-like thing for him to do. Sometimes he would get so excited that he’d forget what he was supposed to be doing.
Opening your texting app, you typed in his number and sent him a message.
You: Hi! Is this the right number? I’m the one you wrote song number five about.
It took a couple hours for him to reply. Which is very understandable considering how he was probably signing albums for a while.
Venti: Yes! This is the right number! It’s so good to hear from you again :)
Venti: And I’m so glad you heard that song
Venti: I really am sorry about leaving like that
You: I won’t lie and say that it’s fine, because it really hurt that you left like that
You: But I really appreciate your song that you wrote for me. I cry every time I hear it
Venti: Oh no! I didn’t mean to make you sad :(
You: Happy tears, Venti. They’re all happy tears
Venti: Oh, okay, that’s good :)
Venti: Want to come eat lunch with the staff and me?
Venti: They’re all really curious about you
Venti: The mysterious childhood friend I wrote a whole song about
You: Sure! How do I find you?
Venti: You don’t! Where are you? I’ll send someone to pick you up ;)
You send him your location and wait around for someone to come pick you up. After a while a nicely dressed woman approaches you and gestures for you to follow her. She leads you to a car and drives you to a restaurant. A waiter takes you to one of the closed off rooms for group events.
Approximately two seconds after the door is closed, you are hug tackled to the floor. Venti cheerfully cheers your name right into your ear. You grumble good naturedly and swat at him until he laughs and gets off you. He offers his hand, you take it, and he helps you stand up. Some chuckles from the staff tell me they’re just as amused as he is by the situation.
This sets the tone for your lunch. It’s lighthearted and you have a great time getting to know each other again. He introduces the staff and they admit they’ve been curious about his childhood friend he wrote a song about. You enjoy eating lunch with them a lot, and all of you are disappointed when you have to go.
You continue to chat as long as you can while preparing to leave. As you’re gathering your stuff to go, you come across the album that he never actually signed. “Oh yeah,” you laugh. “Venti, you never actually signed my album!”
“Whoops! I’ll sign that right now.” He declares. “Though I must admit that I feel a little awkward signing stuff for you.” Finishing writing with a flourish, he hands the album back to you. “But I guess I better get used to it,” he continues. “You better bring the rest of the albums next time!”
Your smile is so bright that he has to squint for a moment.. “I’m looking forward to it already.” You say. “See you later?” He beams right back. “Yep! I’ll let you know the next time we can meet up!”
The grin stays on your face all the way home.
You meet up whenever you can after that, though your schedules don’t always match up enough to allow it. Video calls are common when he goes on tour. It’s like the two of you never split. And eventually your friendship becomes something more.
“Hey, could I ask you a question?” Venti asks you over a video call one night. He’s acting a little funny, nervous with a dash of hope and excitement. “Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like a date?” You chuckle, amused. “Venti, you’re on tour right now. It’s not like we could go out to dinner or something.”
“You’re right that we can’t go out to dinner together, but we could eat at the same time over a video call! I’ll even call and order food for you or something!” Venti plans. “Sure,” you agree. “I think I’d like that.” He pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!” He shouts. “I’m gonna make this the best long-distance date ever!”
And so he does.
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Text
HASO, “World War V.”
I realize the title would be a lot more clever if V wasn’t also the roman numeral for 5, but whatever.
I know this one is a bit over the top but in the immortal words of one of my favorite authors “err on the side of awesome.” and I will not apologize.
But I am interested, at the end, comment what two songs you would use in this scenario. I am intrigued. I will tell you the songs I imagined at the end of the story :)
“So, your plan is to…. Intentionally wake the dead?”
“Wake the, very long hibernated, and then blast them with hard rock music while we mow them down with machine guns? And…. remind me YOU are the GA armada Admiral? And this is your tactical genius.”
Admiral Adam Vir adjusted the chestplate of his space suit, “Well say anything in that sort of voice and it will sound stupid, but hear me out. It is much easier to take something out all at once than it is to go hunting them down one by one and having to worry about missing something. We bring in the helicopters, and the vibration of the rotors will disturb the ground causing the infected vrul to rise. Now knowing the Vrul, and knowing that complicated beats affect their ability to navigate, move and completely wipe out their fine motor control. Furthermore, they seem attracted to vibrations in the air and through the ground which means we will be able to confuse them even more and keep them away from the city. Barring that, the Vrul have their force fields up, which are more than a match for light machine gun fire and will even keep out the strange pollen.. There is no better time to deal with this.”
He tucked his helmet under one arm, “I trust that makes sense to everyone?’ he turned around to the docking bay where over fifty men and women stood in neat rows of polished flight suits, helmets tucked under their arms. As he spoke, their heels snapped together with a loud crackle, and their hands rose into a salute.
Behind them double the amount of marines raised their hands into the air and chanted with loud voices that rose into the air with a roar.
Admiral Vir turned to the commander of the 113th graduating class of Earth’s UNSC Airborne Helicopter division, which he had brought in on special loan. These men and women were yet to fly any real tactical missions though they had all logged thousands of hours of flight already in their careers. Many of them had never left earth until this moment, and their first mission was going to be on the face on an alien planet.
He smiled, “if you knew as much as I did about aliens, Major, you might understand why we are doing something that seems so ludicrous, but sometimes when dealing with extraterrestrials, this is what we have to do.”
He turned to where a line of fifty pod shaped objects were being loaded one by one onto a rolling rail leading towards the airlock. Beside it half a dozen small fluffy shapes were busy overseeing the attachment of fifty identical Sonic cannons to the front bottom of each. There was a break in their work as one of the small creatures came waddling across the deck.
Admiral Vir Knelt down setting his hand on the floor and allowing Lord Avex to step onto his hand and then onto his shoulder as he stood back up.
The rest of the crowd watched in wide eyed awe, though they were, luckily, well trained enough not to do or say anything stupid despite their large eyes and quivering lips, which suggested they wanted nothing better than to cuddle the stuffed-animal esque alien that rested on his shoulder, “The cannons are in place, Admiral, and I have examined each of the pods, and the yare ready to be deployed.”
“Thank you Lord Avex, your work is much appreciated.”
It was just then that Sunny walked across the deck to join them. She was wearing her space suit as well and carried her helmet under one arm. The new recruits staired on in shock as she walked over to stand next to him, “The machine guns have been mounted and are ready to go Admiral, A few of our number have volunteered to go with the marines as extra support. Behind her at least a dozen other Drev raised their fists into the air and chanted their excitement not all that different from the line of marines on the far end of the hanger.
Admiral Vir nodded turning back towards the group of young pilots, not much younger than himself, and stepped up onto the nearest crate.
“On behave of the Galactic Assembly and the Vrul council, I thank all the men and women here for agreeing to accompany us on this mission today. You will be the first airborne unit in history to participate in an operation off Earth as their first assignment. You are thousands of lightyears away from home, orbiting an alien planet thousands of years older than our own, and today your mission is not one of destruction, but of liberation. For thousands of years the Vrul have been trapped inside their walls, until time and tradition made them forget about the dangers lurking outside.” he turned his eyes to look over every last man and women that stood before him, “What we are about to face is like nothing humanity has ever faced before, below the soil of this planet lies a plague dormant for thousands of years, a horde like locusts ready to rise up and infect the city. Now we have our protections, we have our suits, and the Vrul have their shielded city, but it is our job to start riding the planet of it’s plague.” He smiled, “Plus it always helps to have door mounted machine guns and a little rock ‘n roll.”
There was a sharp cheer from the men and women before him who raised their fists into the air. Behind them the marines joined in, and so did the Drev, who, he was pleased to say, had taken to rock like they had guitar solos for breakfast.
Still grinning, he reached up, pulled on his helmet, “Right, let’s get this done.”
He pointed to Sunny, Ramirez, Maverick and a few others, “With me in the elad chopper. The rest of you split off and gear up.”
His words were obeyed almost immediately as he stepped  over to what had once looked like a pod, but was now clearly a very specialized sort of chopper. 
As he slid into the pilot’s seat, and the others strapped in behind, he heard, “I thought you were a fighter pilot, not a helicopter pilot.” They pulled on their helmets.
Adam adjusted his harnesses, “I can fly anything from space ships to paper plans, you can bet your ass if it leaves the ground, I know how to fly it.”
Maverick buckled herself into the door gunner position, “Yeah, but if it has wheels, you better bet he’s probably gonna back it over your mailbox.”
“Put a sock in it Maverick, that is hardly my fault. I never really got the opportunity to practice.”
The door at the back shut and locked tight.
All around them other doors were being locked into place, and once all of the pilots had indicated they were ready to go, Admiral Vir gave the signal, and he felt the ship change course. He adjusted his comms set and called up to the bridge where Simon would be piloting them into position.
“How are we looking, Somon.”
“Almost in position Admiral.”
“Now remember to pull back into low orbit once you let us drop, or else the gravity well is going to pull you in, and it is going to be a bitch to get her back out.” “Yes sir, I know sir.”
“Good.”
He turned his eyes forward as a red light burst into life above their heads. Everyone evacuated the airlock as the fifty pods were brought by rail towards the doors. Behind him he could hear the others chanting something, though his heart was hammering so hard he could hardly hear what they were saying.
Funny thing is he bet he felt like every one of those new pilots getting ready for their first mission. He didn’t know if it was just him, but it felt like this every single time, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He ignored the tingling sensation in his bladder as the light blinked green before the airlock door, and the ramp slid open.
All went silent, and below him he watched as the light of the vrul homeworld washed over the deck before him pouring like golden honey.
The sight was breathtaking, steeling the air from his lungs as he looked down.
“Damn.” 
It would just never get old.would it.
“Prepare for drop, in three, two, one, drop.”
The latch on the back of the rail released, and suddenly they were falling away from the ship. Adam was pressed back in his seat as they accelerated downwards towards the open atmosphere.
Lights blinked on the console ahead of him and the tracking screen picked up his target.
They were approaching, and they were approaching fast.
They were entering the atmosphere now, and he felt it as their pod began to rock and rattled around him and fire began to lick up on the southside of his pod. It was almost deafening as they roared into the atmosphere. He turned on his comms watching as other pods roared into the atmosphere back and behind him. He could see them on his radar as they roared downward.
He had to wonder what it must be like for them.
Their first mission, and they were doing a high altitude drop onto an alien planet.
He almost envied them their excitement. Because he had done stuff like this before, and he was still grinning like an idiot.
Light rose up around them as the sky behind them turned blue. Clouds passed below them in great swaths, and he reached down to the controls ready to deploy.
He set of a general count for the rest of the pilots.
Three 
Two
One.
He pulled the release, and the engine roared to life. There was a sudden firing as the engine spurted downward, lifting them airborne for a second and slowing their descent. His innards dropped as G force allowed his stomach to crawl into his feet. Then the rotors deployed like a fan. There was a sharp chunk and then a whirr as they began to fall again, and then the rotors caught, and began to spin. The rear rotor did the same sliding into position. Both caught with a roar, and he whooped with adrenaline.
He toggled his radio.
“Alright, ready the door gun.”
Behind him the doors were slid open, causing a rush of air to blast into the open carriage as Maverick rolled the gun into position and locked it at the door with a loud snap. On the other side Maverick was doing the same. Beside him. Sunny took control of the extra rear mounted guns set in place especially for this mission.
Adam had the guns already built into the chopper, as well as missiles if he felt like it.
Beside him and below him, he watched as the fifty other choppers deployed like his. Some of them were a bit wobbly, but everything he saw seemed to go well.
“Alright everyone take it in low, and on my mark deploy the cannons.”
He angled them lower roaring towards his target.
Below them, the Vrul city was a glassy blue purple bubble against the orange, brown landscape.
He took point, and the other choppers fell into flight beside him, clustered in ten open groups of five helicopters each, and together they rolled in low over the landscape, not twenty feet above the ground in some cases, though those were only the pilots who were comfortable getting that close. From here he could see the thudding of their rotors causing the dirt to shake and the strange trees to quiver. 
The wildlife began to roll out in different directions, racing across the ground and away from the roaring choppers as if they knew what was coming, He scanned the ground, with Maverick and Ramriez leaning on the machine guns behind him.
“See anything yet?”
“Not yet.”
He opened his comms to everyone else, “Alright everyone, deploy sonic cannons in three, two, one go.” 
The first line of lyrics, and the first drumline rolled from the directional cannons, blasting the ground with a focused beam of sound like a laser for noise.
He whooped bobbing his head to the music, the sound so powerful he was able to hear it over the roaring of the rotors.
He sure hoped the Vrul had taken his advise and hidden in inside bunkers for this.
They roared over the landscape turning in a huge clockwise circle over the landscape.
“Report if you see anything.” he ordered.
At first, it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen, and he worried that his idea, which had seemed so cool and tactical to begin with , was nothing but a waste of resources. How embarrassing was that going to be to explain to the UNSC.
Yes, I borrowed the entire 113th graduating class to go on a joyride around the Vrul capital city, yes here is my rank and gun, I will now go live on the moon in exile never to show my face again.
“Sir! I have something.”
“Go.”
“Just south of the city, sir. I have movement coming from the trees in thermal.”
“Same here sir.” 
He was at the point of the circle, so he wasn’t likely to see it, made sense.
“Alright , let’s give it a pass. I want as many of those bugs out of the ground before we start shooting.”
They roared over the ground with the sound of the base rattling the stone below them. As he watched, one of the strange animals he had seen running, tipped over as the cannon passed over it and fell to the ground twitching. Apparently pattern tolerance was not something that many things on this planet had.
“Sorry guy, but things are going to be better when we are done.”
Rocks jumped and rattled as they took a wide turn around the city.
He could see the shield pulsing against the sonic waves that were bouncing off the ground and back into the air.
The blades of the helicopters cut through the air so fast it was like a light grey translucent wall against the sky.
They had almost made a full rotation.
“Holy shit.” for a second he wondered who had spoken until he realised that it was himself.
They were everywhere, swarming like ants over the landscape, turning the ground black in some places as they crawled over each other in confused circles. As the music got closer, their purposeful movement turned into awkward confusion.
“Stagger!.”
The formations staggered, falling behind each other so that everyone was always covering one segment.
“Ready to deploy the  sonic attack on my mark, in three, two, one, mark.”
It was a guitar solo this time, one that he had listened to thousands of times, and one that he couldn't have resisted using to kill zombie Vrul.
Th drumline cut in as the third obvious pattern in the song, and as it roared over the wave of Zombified Vrul, there was an immediate reaction as they all began staggering and falling to the ground, behind him he felt as the guns opened fire on either side with a sharp burrrr as the rotating barrels started spitting hot lead at 1,000 rounds per minute.
He laughed with something like maniacal glee as the powerful rounds poured into the infected creatures ripping them apart sometimes four at a time sending a wave of yellow pollen up into the air, to be kicked up by helicopter blades as they passed over. His circle kept him closest to the wall, so he was able to catch the majority of them before they could even attempt to make it to the city.
He toggled his own guns, and stitched a line of bullets over a completely black mass, which erupted into a burst of yellow. His circle took him around to where the Vrul had managed to make it to the wall of the city, and had begun climbing each other like they planned to create a ladder using bodies to the top of the wall. He gunned them down with great prejudice. As they moved along the wall, more and more of the creatures had piled themselves higher and higher, but that is not a trend that they allowed to last long. One of the piles managed to make itself three quarters of the way up the wall before their sonic attack hit them, causing the tower to collapse as both glorious drum lines and bullets roared into them.
He carved a circle through the sky coming over their first line of attack, where dark bodies were doing the best to crawl over their fallen brethren and pools of yellowed pollen having fallen to the ground. Ahead of him he could see a cloud of yellow where the following helicopter was stitching tis way over the landscape with great prejudice.
Behind him, he thought he heard Maverick cackle like a swamp witch as she loaded another belt of ammunition.
Yeah sure people back home were cool, but they would never be this cool, flying over an alien landscape, killing alien zombies while listening to a little ACDC, They could dream but nothing would ever be more awesome.
He couldn’t wait to tell his siblings.
His sister would be so jealous.
She had always been a fan of the zombie genre.
“Admiral, Admiral I think some of them are starting to fly.” Came the nervous comment over the com.
“Alright, remember the drill, just keep calm, and go higher if you can, then when you have enough clustered below you, drop one of the canisters.”
There was an acknowledgement over the comms.
With that announcement still running through his head, he got ready to drop one of his own canisters.
He was in view of the last helicopter as it rose into the air pursued by hundreds of little black dots that would erupt into yellow spores as they were hit by machine gun fire, and then something dropped from the bottom of the chopper, and then exploded just above the rising infected.
Thousands of tiny organic needles rained down on the vrul, cutting straight through their helium sacks, and sending them crashing downwards, into their companions, and finally to the ground where they erupted on impact, killing even more of their companions.
Up ahead, a wall of black rose before him, but he was faster.
They rose into the air and he roared over the wall, dropping one two and then three canisters in quick succession causing a wave of them to drop to the ground. The following helicopters followed his lead. He was having to rise higher and higher into the air, but still he was managing to keep ahead of them, they were slow and he was fast, but that didn’t stop a few of them from getting in front of him. 
There was a jolt as his rotors hit one of them, and he gritted his teeth, it was fine, one or two was fine as long as he didn’t allow them to gum it up.
He pulled back and up and continued to drop more and more of the caisters.
One or two of them floated high enough to make it close to his sonic cannon, but they were blown back and the pressure caused their helium sacks to rupture.
***
The Vrul council stood on the wall overlooking the outside of the city as a wall of the Vrul infected rose into the sky obscuring everything in a wave of dark bodies. Human helicopters roared in a wide circle around the city, and everywhere they went yellow spores erupted into the air. All of them wore safety masks as a precaution, but that didn’t stop the fear that rose up in them as they stepped back arms held out in shock. Dr. Krill stared on in fascination and awe. He wasn’t wearing hearing protection like the others, he could handle human music to a certain degree, and it was pretty muffled through the shielding.
He watched in shock and awe as one of the helicopters cut too low, and rolled right into a dense thicket of the floating bodies. There was a horrific eruption of yellow as the rotors caught hundreds of the creatures, and then the helicopter itself began to spin out of control crashing and rupturing Vrul as it roared towards the ground.
The emergency systems deployed firing one last time to slow the chopper’s crash. The sudden burst of flame ruptured a line of the Vrul infected before it finally plowed into the ground sending up a wave of yellow spores.
“Sweet Nebulon.” one of the council muttered.
Two more helicopters went down, and it looked as if there weren't going to be enough bullets.
What had they done!”
***
“Everyone, On me, increase sonic cannons! Now!” he had seen the three choppers go down, and he had seen all three of their safety measures deploy, but he couldn’t be sure if any of them had survived. “Avoid the crash sites. Everyone on me!”
The entire fleet of remaining choppers clustered together turning up the volume on their sonic cannons, and the combined force was so powerful that some of the bodies began to rupture even without gunfire though it still tore downwards.
They took two more passes before he saw his ammunition running low. That was fine. The Vrul bodies were no longer coming in waves and it would be harder to hit them from above, now that they weren’t just coming in a wave.
He aimed for one of the crash sites.
“I want a group of us to set down. Only choppers with Drev on them!”
There was agreement as ten choppers split off to the three crash sites.
Adam roared down from the sky, and set down on a smoking heap of yellow coated bodies.
He cut the engine , and reach back to pull his spear from where it was attached to the floor of the chopper. It wasn’t a Drev spear and it wasn’t a human spear but something in between, with the reverse spike on the end like they had done with the NeoSpartans.
He turned in his seat just in time to see the two marines push their machine guns out of position and one of the infected Vrul to come charing at Ramirez.
A spear appeared in his hand in that moment, and he ran it through the face.
Sunny was behind him a second later, and together they were out the door, three of them armed with spears, maverick armed with her assault rifle, and together they made their way towards the downed chopper.
Making it there just in time to see as a pile of clustered Vrul was ruptured from within, and a very angry Drev came roaring out.
He recognized from the height who it was.
“Kanan!” he heard Sunny yell.
They ran over to help, sweeping through the cluster of Vrul zombies before they began fanning out across the open plane.
He turned up the speakers on the outside of his suit and allowed it to blare music as he raced towards anything that still looked to be moving. A few of them were still floating into the sky, but the remaining helicopters were taking care of those, and Maverick from the ground on occasion.
He ran one through the face, turned and clubbed the other in the head like he was swinging  for a home run.
His blad sliced straight through the neck of one as he staggered over the uneven ground.
To the side of him, sunny was cutting through them with impunity like a god of war, touching them though they never touched her, the yellowed gore spattering her suit.
As more and more of the Vrul were cut out of the sky, more and more choppers landed, and men and women filed out, running in open lines, using whatever the could to dispatch the remaining bodies.
He saw one of the new pilots grab a Vrul by the neck, and twist it like he was breaking the neck of a chicken, surprised when the entire head came off. He kind of hoped the Vrul council did not see that.
By the end of the battle. Four of their choppers had been downed. Two humans were dead, both of them in the crashes, and at least four more critically injured.
He felt bad about it.
But he couldn’t have predicted that.
At least none of the pilots had died.
Two of his marines had though, tossed from the choppers as they were falling from the sky. It made him sick to think about their families, the ones that he would have to send letters to, but he tried not to think about that for now.
Thousand upon thousands of the vrul zombies were dead, and even as he thought this dozens more were being dispatched by hand by humans who were no more than walking radios at this point, having chosen their own theme songs to fight zombies.
Some of thor picks were quite surprising, though he couldn’t blame them for their humor or their irony.
They still had a long way to go, but at least he knew how it could be done.
Vrul past, hopefully, would never come back to haunt them. 
The two songs I imagine Adam picked for this was 
First: Raise Hell - Dorothy
Second: Thunderstruck - ACDC
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beewolfwrites · 3 years
Text
And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Thirteen: By a Thread
I know how much some of you love the original games, so I hope you enjoyed this one too :) 
If you’re new here, hello - this is a Chishiya x OC/reader fic. You can find the full fanfic, including this chapter on AO3 here.  
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Like always, the hotel lobby was crammed with people. I kept my head low as I moved quietly through the crowds, hoping to avoid the gaze of the militants dotted around. The last thing I wanted was to draw the attention of Niragi and his troupe. When I finally took my slip of paper, I went to stand by a corner before opening it.
Group four.                             
‘Looks like we’re together.’ An arm wrapped around my shoulder and Kuina appeared beside me. ‘It must be luck.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ I said. ‘We could end up with a Hearts game.’ Unconsciously, my eyes roamed the lobby for any sign of white.
‘Yeah, we could. But there’s only a one in four chance of that.’ She leaned in close, and I could practically hear the grin in her voice. ‘Speaking of hearts, he’s not in our group.’
I tensed, causing Kuina to giggle. She must’ve noticed me looking for him, but she’d gotten the wrong idea completely.
‘It’s not what you think,’ I told her, embarrassed. ‘He left some things in my room, kind of like a peace offering. I just wanted to thank him… and maybe apologise for being a brat and refusing to speak to him.’
I hid beneath my hood as Kuina began to slowly steer me through the crowded room. There were several of Niragi’s thugs standing around in their groups, but I hadn’t seen Niragi himself yet.  
‘You can thank him after we win our game,’ Kuina said as we walked outside. Then in a low mutter, she added, ‘you werebeing a brat though.’
‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ I laughed. ‘He was in the wrong too, you know.’
Although I held onto moments like this, there was no covering up the anxiety I felt deep inside. It was an unfamiliar worry, one that had appeared only recently, having crept up on me when I was least expecting it. And Chishiya was at its core. I was wavering between wishing he were in our group, and the relief that he wasn’t. I was glad that he was somewhere else, just in case we actually did run into a Hearts game. But at the same time, I wanted him by my side just to know that he was okay, that he was alive. And the uncertainty would drive me mad.
But overlying all of this, I was terrified of the fact that I felt this way at all.
----------------------------------------
There were only five of us in our group, so the car ride was more comfortable this time. Behind the wheel was an intense woman in her thirties who kept chewing at her lip. In stark contrast, a young woman with long hair tied in a pale pink scrunchie was sitting in the front passenger seat. She was biting her nails nervously, the clipped sound overwhelming in the quiet car. The final member of our group was a teenage boy. He seemed calm as he stared out the window, but the way he kept playing with the hem of his t-shirt betrayed his fear.
Kuina and I didn’t talk much, but there was comfort in our quietness. It was never said aloud, but we were both worried about what lay ahead. Even though I trusted in Kuina’s strength, and she probably trusted in my intelligence, there were some games designed to ensure only one person survived.
The car took us further into the city’s outskirts, and I began to wonder whether our driver actually knew where she was going. A glance into the front revealed that she had a piece of paper with directions resting on the dashboard.
Eventually, the car pulled up outside a set of gateposts leading into to a suburban park. I mentally groaned at the sight.
Not another park.
Unlike Shinjuku Gyoen, this was smaller, with trees lining the edges and flat fields designed for football games. As I got out of the car, I could see the usual white sign pasted to a brick gatepost.
GAME – こちらです.
I spared a glance at Kuina, but her eyes were set ahead, and her jaw was tight with determination.
I wish I had her confidence.
There was no bleep as the five of us walked through the gateposts. That could only mean the park itself wasn’t the game arena.
But it soon became clear what was.
In the centre of the fields, a large circus tent – a big top – glowed red from within like a giant pinstripe cloud. Spotlights illuminated the space outside, staining the grass with splotches of primary colours. But there was something jarring about this circus, something subtly off. There was no music. There was total, deadening silence as we approached the tent entrance.
‘Do you think this is it?�� the woman with the pink scrunchie asked, biting her fingernail.
Our driver scoffed, pursing her lips. ‘What else would it be?’ Then she headed inside, followed by Pink Scrunchie and the teenage boy.
Kuina smiled reassuringly at me. ‘Let’s go.’
With a nod, I ducked into the tent, Kuina following close behind.
Inside, it was immense. The entrance led out onto a walkway between tall rows upon rows of empty seats. The tent ceiling stretched high above us like a shining red and white toothpaste sky. In the middle, on either side of the circus ring were two tall platforms, the space in the middle blocked from view by a strong steel fence.
Kuina and I found the others stood at the bottom of one of the tall platforms, where a pile of phones was set out on a white table. We both took a phone and held it to our faces.
‘FACE REGISTRATION IN PROCESS.
PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE.’
Now that I was at the base of the first platform, it seemed insanely tall. And if the rope ladder attached to the side was any indicator, we were going to be expected to climb to the top.
The teenage boy was looking anxiously at the steel fence obscuring the middle of the circus ring. ‘What do you think’s in there?’
Probably acid, or something equally deadly.
Our driver dismissed it with a shrug. ‘Guess we’ll just have to find out.’
‘REGISTRATION CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.’
As always, I listened closely. I could only hope it wasn’t a Spades game. My arm was still wrapped in bandages, and while it was certainly healing well, I didn’t want to set it back yet again.
‘GAME – TIGHTROPE
DIFFICULTY – FOUR OF CLUBS
TIME LIMIT – 20 MINUTES.’
A tightrope?
I craned my neck, squinting up at the space above. Sure enough, a metal wire glinted, taut between the two platforms. It was so thin that I hadn’t even noticed it until now.
‘RULES –
PLAYERS MUST CROSS THE TIGHTROPE AND REACH THE OTHER SIDE.
ONCE ON THE PLATFORM, PLAYERS CANNOT LEAVE IT WITHOUT CROSSING THE TIGHTROPE.
THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN TWO MINUTES.’
Clutching the phone, I felt some relief. It was a Clubs game, the best out of the lot. It meant there was likely a chance we could all survive.
‘So, what do we do?’ Pink Scrunchie asked, eying the rope ladder leading to the top. ‘Do we climb up?’
The driver huffed. ‘Do whatever you want—’
‘No,’ I interjected. The timing… it was just like the Tag game. ‘Not just yet. There’s a reason we’ve been given two minutes before the game starts. There must be something around here to help us cross it.’
Everyone looked at me, confused, before I realised I’d spoken in English. Luckily, Kuina came to my aid and translated as best she could.
The driver raised a brow. ‘And why would they bother doing that? The game-makers don’t exactly want to help us.’
I thought back to the Eight of Hearts, the teenage girl, the businessman’s body, his vest glowing yellow. ‘Because there’s always a solution, otherwise it’s not a game.’
Kuina adjusted her quit-smoking aide and nodded at me. Leaving the others at the base of the platform, we both jogged around the tent, checking between the seats and behind curtains to find anything that might help us. If this was a circus, that meant there had to be equipment. At first, it seemed like we were the only ones searching, until the teenage boy called out from the backstage area.
‘Hey, there’s some stuff over here!’
Running over, we ducked beneath some curtains into a backstage area before we found the boy, the driver and Pink Scrunchie all stood looking at a large storage unit filled with circus tools. Some of it, like the tricycles and spinning plates, was useless to us, but there had to be something in here.
‘GAME START.’
‘The hell?’ Kuina grumbled. ‘How has it already been two minutes?’  
I began scrabbling through the pile, brushing aside a set of juggling clubs. ‘皆んな、何かを取る.’ Everyone, take something.
Truth be told, there wasn’t much that was useful, and some of it couldn’t be carried up a rope ladder. But in the end, I chose a set of vibrant purple aerial silks. Beside me, Kuina was holding a bungee cord, the teenage boy had a large hoop, Pink Scrunchie had taken a diabolo, and the driver was gripping a long pole.
‘Let’s go,’ she said, leading us back to the performance hall and the ring.
One by one, we each climbed the rope ladder leading up to the top of the platform. I put my phone between my teeth and draped the aerial silks over my shoulder before following Kuina up to the top, and once I finally clambered over the edge and stood up, the ladder dropped away.
Now, it was just us and the tightrope.
‘Guys…’
It was the teenage boy. He was peering over the edge into the center of ring below, the space obscured by the fence. I took a step forward and looked down. It was a pit, the edges raised before dipping again. It was brimming with murky brown-green water, like a neglected algal pond, except it was much, much more than that. Raised brown bumps poked through the surface like tiny islands, occasionally sliding and shifting as ripples tore through our reflections.
Crocodiles.
‘15 MINUTES REMAINING.’
‘There’s no time to waste standing around,’ the driver said. She pointed at Pink Scrunchie. ‘You were first up here, so you should go first.’
Pink Scrunchie flinched, her fingers tightening around the diabolo. I felt myself growing more and more irritated with the driver. From the moment we arrived she had been completely unhelpful, trying to boss everyone around when she had no idea what she was doing. It was really starting to tick me off, and from the looks of it, I wasn’t the only one. I opened my mouth to object, but Kuina beat me to it.
‘Oi! You don’t have any right to decide who goes first,’ she snapped. ‘If anyone goes first it should be you.’
Although meant well, it wasn’t a good idea to pick a fight now.
Really not helpful, Kuina.
‘Look,’ I began, but Pink Scrunchie cut me off.
‘It’s okay,’ she said nervously. ‘I’ll go first. I’ll do it.’
I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to, but for some reason I couldn’t. One of us would have to go eventually anyway. Guilt stirred within me as she approached the edge of the platform, and even though I would never admit it, I was glad that I didn’t have to go first.
She crouched down and wrapped the strings around the diabolo, pulling it firmly so that the hourglass shape remained slotted around the wire as she pulled on the strings. I heard her take a deep breath as she put one foot on the tightrope.
The crocodiles stirred below.
Pulling the strings tight, she stepped fully onto the wire. Her body swayed, and she yanked harder on the diabolo, using its shape and the tension of the strings to balance herself.
As I watched, it became obvious that it wasn’t going to work. The diabolo couldn’t move unless she walked backwards and pulled it. But it was too late, it was much too late because when she took another step, the diabolo slipped.
As did her balance.
There was a shriek and a zip of metal as her body teetered off the edge. She hit the water with a loud clap, and the tent revibrated with her screams as the crocodiles sprung, slithering over each other until the screams stopped.
I closed my eyes, only to see the bodies of the two men from the Rummy game… the old woman crying as the collar ticked down… the businessman’s starched white collar. I opened them again.  
‘That was your fault.’ The teenage boy was visibly scared, his hands shaking. However, his eyes were filled with pure anger and they were focused purely on the driver.
‘Maybe,’ the driver said. ‘But one of us had to go first.’
Kuina rounded up on her. ‘One of us has to go next, too, and it’s going to be you.’
‘Don’t,’ I muttered to Kuina. ‘そんな価値はない.’ It’s not worth it.
She looked at me with sadness and fury. ‘Why not? She practically killed that girl.’
I couldn’t deny this, and part of me did want the driver to go next just so she could experience the same thing that she had put the other girl through. But arguing like this would only get us all killed.  
‘TEN MINUTES REMAINING.’
‘Actually, you know what,’ the driver said, ‘I’m not going to waste my time arguing with you. I will go next.’
The three of us stood back as the driver took off her shoes and stood up straight. She turned the pole horizontally and adjusted it between her hands until the weight was evenly distributed on both sides.
A balancing pole.
I almost wished I had thought of it, but then again, I didn’t trust my balance. Not with my life.
The driver stepped out onto the tightrope. She moved steadily, taking time to feel and test the wire beneath her feet. To my surprise, she was doing well, and she was now nearing the middle of the wire – the part where it was just ever so slightly more flexible. For a split second, I was rooting for her. I wanted her to succeed so we could all try it.
Then she took another step, and perhaps the rotation of her foot was slightly off, or maybe she hadn’t taken into account the flexibility in the middle.
Either way, the result was the same. Her body tilted, and the driver was whipped away, plunging into the pit below.
There was a rush of water and hisses as the crocodiles feasted.
I gulped, unable to bring myself to look down. ‘Kuina, what do we do?’
Her jaw clenched around the quit-smoking aide. ‘I’m not sure. Give me a minute.’
‘I’m not sure we have one,’ the teenage boy said, holding out his phone.
Only seven minutes left.
I glanced between the apparatus that we had left. A hoop… aerial silks… and a bungee cord.
Think, think, think…
My mind ran back over the rules. There might have been a clue somewhere in the wording. We had to cross the tightrope, and we were allowed equipment – that meant… it meant….
‘We don’t have to walk across it,’ I said.
Kuina blinked. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean we don’t have to walk across it. The rules just said we had to cross it. We could slide instead. If we tie ourselves to the wire for security, we could slide to the other side. Or maybe we could even crawl upside down, if that makes sense?’
Kuina mulled this over. ‘I get you. There’s a name for that, it’s called a monkey crawl.’
I stared at our collective equipment, before bending down over the edge to test the tension of the wire. It was thin, but with its metal casing, it was strong enough to hold us up. I gestured bungee cord. ‘You could tie yourself to it with that. I’ve got my silks.’
The teenage boy let out a sob. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve only got a hoop. I’m an idiot, I didn’t think.’
Kuina put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said. ‘Here, you can use the bungee cord.’ Turning to me, she nodded at the silks in my hand. ‘Can you rip that in half?’
‘Of course.’ I got to work, using my teeth and hands to tear at the elasticated silks until the fabric ripped in two. ‘Who’s going first?’
Kuina stepped forward and took the quit-smoking aid out of her mouth, throwing it away. ‘I’ll do it.’
I gave her the split piece of silk. She placed her phone between her teeth and got to the floor, dangling her legs off the edge of the platform. I wanted to tell her to be careful, but hesitated. A distraction could cost her life.
Gently easing herself down, she steadied herself with one hand as she leaned forward. Then with the other, she slid the silk around her torso and tied it in a messy knot. It was loose enough that she could still move freely, but if she let go, it would hold her weight long enough for her to grab the wire again.
She swung her body around until she was hanging upside down, suspended by her ankles and hands. And with a wink in my direction, she began crawling across the wire.
She was fast. Faster than I’d ever be. But it worked, and before I knew it, she had reached the other side. I watched as she untied herself and climbed onto the other platform.
‘FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.’
I looked at the teenage boy in silent question.
‘You go first,’ he said. ‘I’m still a little nervous.’
I nodded, trying to smile reassuringly. ‘Okay.’
Following Kuina’s lead, I placed my phone in my mouth and slid onto the wire, using one hand to tie a knot around the wire and my torso. Adrenaline shot through me as I swung upside down. And wrapping my fingers and ankles around the wire, I crawled.
Just breathe and focus on the ceiling.
When the wire became slightly lax beneath my fingers, I knew that I was halfway there. Below me, I heard a splash and a hiss. My hands stilled. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I turned my head, looking down to the pit.
It was a mistake. It was a huge mistake. The water was red, their teeth were red. There was a stained red scrunchie floating on the surface.
I felt sick.
‘Stop staring and get the hell over here!’ Kuina’s voice sounded from the other side.
I snapped my head back, blinking away the image of the pit.
‘Don’t you want to thank Chishiya?’
I do. The taser and the note flashed through my mind. I really do.
Taking a deep breath, I crawled fast, faster than I thought I ever could. That was, until my head hit the platform on the other side.
‘Idiot,’ Kuina said, helping me upright. I untied myself from the wire and scrabbled onto the platform with shaking limbs. I did it. I was safe.
‘TWO MINUTES REMAINING.’
But he wasn’t.
Back on the other side, the teenage boy was doing the same thing as Kuina and I. His hands quivered as he struggled to tie the bungee cord around himself. Eventually he managed to use the hooks on the end to haphazardly secure it in place.
Then he began to crawl, just like we did, except slower. Because his legs and hands were trembling, he was having a hard time hooking his ankles over the wire.
‘You can do it!’ Kuina shouted. ‘You’re almost halfway!’
He slowly approached the middle. Tears slipped down his cheeks, dripping to the pit below.
‘ONE MINUTE REMAINING.’
The boy gasped and hooked a leg around the wire, just as his bungee cord came loose. He cried out, fists clenching white around the wire as he relied solely on his hands and ankles to support his weight.
The bungee cord hit the water with a snarl and a snap of teeth.
‘大丈夫,’ I called out. ‘遠くないよ.’ It’s okay, you’re not far.
He’s not listening, I thought, as I watched his face contort in fear. He’s too terrified.
‘30 SECONDS REMAINING.’
It was the wake-up call he needed, and that little chime shocked him into action as he continued clambering along the tightrope. His movements were even slower now that he didn’t have the bungee cord to support him, and he was crying harder. The sound echoed through the tent, causing the crocodiles to hiss.
‘20 SECONDS REMAINING.’
My fingers clenched and unclenched. He was almost there; he was almost safe. I held my breath. I didn’t want to see any more people die like this.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Kuina called out. ‘You’re so close now.’
‘TEN SECONDS REMAINING.’
He was close, nearly enough to touch. I reached out a hand and Kuina did the same.
‘FIVE…’
He’s not going to make it.
My fingers brushed his t-shirt.
‘FOUR…’
We both grasped his shirt, trying to pull him upright over the wire.
‘THREE...’
He gritted his teeth, his lip dribbling with blood from where he’d bit it.
‘TWO...’
He dragged himself up, hands splayed on the edge of the platform. I pulled.
‘ONE...’
The wire fell away from the platform. There was a yelp as his fingers slipped off the edge. For the tiniest second his eyes met mine, innocent and wide with realisation.
‘NO!’
I grabbed his outstretched hand, feeling the weight of him pull me forward. Behind me, Kuina shouted my name. Her arms came to wrap around my waist, anchoring me to the platform.
The boy grasped my hand with both of his, and I pulled. I pulled as hard as I could, even as my shoulder felt like it was being yanked from its socket and the skin of my palms burned with the friction.
Kuina’s arms were like weights, dragging me back and giving me the leverage I needed to tug the boy up to the edge. He released one hand from mine and gripped the platform. Then Kuina extended hers, and together, we hauled him up to safety. We collapsed onto our backs, panting with the exertion.
‘GAME CLEAR – CONGRATULATIONS!’
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imma-potatoo · 3 years
Note
For the bthb, may I request Logan and U!Patton with Thrown Down The Stairs? Maybe with some Remus or Janus comfort later? Idk, I just like your writing style and am crazy for Logan angst.
@badthingshappenbingo
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Send me a prompt with a character! Please specify ships! No romantic prinxeity, r*mr*m or U!Janus and U!Logan please!
You wanted Logan angst? You got Logan angst~
Prompt: thrown down the stairs.
Warnings: U!Patton, blood, gore, choking, scratching at throat, concussion, thrown down stairs, pinning, graphic abuse, punching, slapping, ask to tag
(I'm really sorry this took so long. Wifi problems and family shit)
-----
Love
----
Logan walked out of his room, humming a small song (Crofters the Musical, but that was only for him to know) dress shoes clicking softly on the wooden floors while he skimmed over the book in his hands. The mindscape was just as bustling as usual, he could hear Janus lecturing Remus in the darker half of the mind about how stealing Roman’s sword and turning it into a dagger was inappropriate and that he’ll have to make Roman a new one. Roman himself was sulking in his room playing Burn from Hamilton on loop because “Remus is dead to me like Hamilton was dead to Eliza”…. Logan didn’t get it. Virgil’s music was turned on max; like always but this time he was trying to drown out Roman’s complaints with My Chemical Romance. Patton was most likely baking in the kitchen once again.
Logan flipped open to the page he left off on; he had just started this book so he wasn’t too far in. He couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face as he started to read,
The person who was supposed to love me the hardest-the most unconditionally-has always wanted me gone. No matter how hard I tried to be perfect. Now, this boy-who knows all my imperfections and has seen all my hurt laid bare-wants me to sta- Logan’s reading was interrupted by a door clicking open.
Logan looked up to see Patton closing his bedroom door. An ear to ear grin plastered on his face, it was a little too much teeth for his comfort. Patton locked eyes with the blue side, “Hiya kiddo!”
Logan slipped his bookmark back into the thin pages, “Greetings Patton.” Logan waited for a second or two for Patton to walk beside him; after all, when someone comes out of their door, you have to wait for the other to join you on your walk.
And Patton did, they started towards the staircase; Logan tracing the book pages with his fingers. “So! Where ya headed kiddo?!” Logan had always thought Patton was a little too cheery for his tastes, but that was just the father’s personality, he couldn’t change that.
“I’m headed to the imagination to read,” for a brief second, Logan forgot who I was talking to, “It's actually quite an interesting book! The Dangerous Art of Blending In is considered a must-read for pride month and is based on the author's true story,” Logan continued to talk; eyes twinkling with excitement and pure joy as he went on to explain the main character’s arc so far.
The blue side steeled his expression to his happy grin, “That sounds interesting kiddo! Can I see it?”
Logan grew stiff, but continued walking with Patton until they made it to the top of the stairs, Logan shifted his eyes downward and handed the book to Patton. Morality swiped the book straight out of Logan’s hands, he pulled it open to a random page and started to read. Logan watched in horror as the older side’s expression shifted from mild curiosity to confusion, to disgust, and finally to anger.
“Why are you reading these horrible things, Logan?” Patton’s smile was gone, eyes cold and disapproving as he stared into Logan’s eyes. “This is something Remus would read. Why. Are. You. Reading. It.” Patton stood tall, teeth formed into a sneer as he stepped closer.
Logan took a small step backward, “I-I-”
“Shut up.” Logan hit the wall when Patton hissed through his teeth, “Come on Lo-Lo! If you read stuff like this, you’re just as bad as Remus and Janus! You don’t want to be like them, do you?” Patton was inches away from Logan’s face. His breath hot on his skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck.
Logan gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. “W-well, I thought that Even and Henry’s story was a sweet story about overcoming hardships, even when you’re put in a bad si-” The stinging pain of Patton’s hand hitting his face stopped him in his tracks. Tears leaked down as Logan raised his hand to his cheek.
Logan looked at Patton with wide eyes, “y-yo-” The blunt end of a punch struck his face, Logan could only stand in shock as he felt his lip start to leak crimson, “Patton stop!”
The so-called father pushed his hand against Logan’s neck, keeping him in place even while Logan clawed at his hand and own throat, attempting to pry Patton off. His nails dug into his flesh, small warm droplets of blood pricking out of the skin as Patton tightened his hold.
“You, Lo-Lo-Bear, need to learn when to shut up~” Logan was sure that his neck was going to be bruised, all he could do was wheeze a suffocated breath in response. Patton applied his sugar-sweet smile once more, looking into Logan’s eyes with a twisted fascination.
Logan attempted to speak, he knew that he couldn’t. But words were his weapon. Without his voice he was helpless, and he refused to give in to the father figure’s torment. Patton had always been particularly touchy, touching them when it wasn’t necessary. Hands grazing over their shoulders or swiping things from their hand to look it over. Patton had also always been particularly violent. Pushing them against walls over little things and whispering threats. It didn’t make these situations any less terrifying though. And this was the first time Patton had taken it this far.
Logan’s hands were covered in blood. His blood. Gore covered his fingers and Patton’s hand, a few small beads hitting the floor; as well as Patton’s cartoon-themed sneakers. Long thin scratches ran up and down his neck, his nails had thick pieces of skin underneath the nails.
Patton raised an eyebrow at the side’s attempt to pry him off, he huffed a breath and let go of Logan’s neck.
Logic fell against the wall, hands immediately wrapping around the sluggish bleeding at his neck, Logan breathed in short ragged breaths eyes wide and staring at the floor. Breathing in the sweet addiction of oxygen.
Patton smiled, eyes skewed shut while the side on the floor held himself tightly. “There! Didn’t you learn your lesson kiddo?” Patton waited a second or two for Logan to respond, his breathing calm and steady as he swirled the crimson liquid on his hand. “Right kiddo?” Patton bore his cold eyes onto the crumbled side, he barely waited a second before seizing Logan’s wrist and pulling him to his feet.
The cyan side held Logan by his tie, right in front of the staircase. Logan could barely process anything before the side in front of him smiled, locking his eyes. And then, he let go and pushed Logan down the steps.
Logan fell, hitting almost every stair on his way down. He could feel his blood vessels burst as his arms scraped on the wooden railing, splinters indenting into his flesh. His head spun when it hit the stairs, glasses flying off. Logan could barely tell what was happening to him as he hit his head repeatedly, he knew that he heard a crunch from his left arm and right leg when he hit the bottom landing.
Logan laid on his face, breathing hard and rapidly. His mind was fogged over, no coherent thought could pass through as the ringing sound that suddenly plagued his mind filled his senses. He couldn’t hear his father figure climb down the steps, taking care to step over the blood spatters that covered them.
Patton poked Logan in the ribs with his shoe, giggling when the side groaned in pain. “You really should be more careful kiddo! Stairs can be pretty dangerous you know!” The cyan side took one last look at his victim before pulling Logan’s book from his pocket.
Patton opened the book to its center point, before grabbing each side of the novel and ripping it in half. Pages floated down like butterfly wings, gracefully falling as they surrounded the broken side in bitter mockery of the book. Patton threw what was remaining of the book onto Logan, his demeanor just as peppy and upbeat as ever, even while covered in another’s blood.
“You really need to be more careful with your possessions, Logic, such a tragedy, you know I love a good book.” Patton walked back up the staircase to his bedroom, while Welcome to the Black Parade blasted from Virgil’s speakers, Logan barely responded to the father figments door slamming.
Logan had no idea of how long he let his blood stain the carpet, but his mind grew even fuzzier as the room grew black. He allowed the sweet bliss of sleep to cloud his function telling him to stay awake. He closed his eyes, only to have someone shake him.
“-GAN! LOGAN WAKE UP!” The panicked voice of the deceitful side flooded his head, he tried to force his eyes open; muscles spasming. “There we go! Come on starlight! Stay awake! Remus is coming back with the medkit! Just stay with me!” Logan followed his voice, the smoothness and composed attitude of the yellow side was gone. Logan hated seeing the silver-tongued side like that.
“I-I see you have a copy of The Dangerous Art of Blending In! It’s such a good book right! I l-ove how the author wrote Henry! Don’t you? Come on Logan, stay awake!” Logan looked into the terrified side’s eyes. The enchanting yellow and brown eyes kept his focus even if they were clouded in fear, he wondered why he never noticed the flecks of green surrounding the slivered pupil before.
“I GOT THE MEDKIT!” The horse voice of Remus broke his concentration on the pretty eyes, why did everyone call Janus a monster anyway? Was it the scales? Logan could only wonder as the two dark sides hastily applied the first aid. Voices scared and rushed as they faded into the background, Logan could only focus on how Remus’ mustache was perfectly curled into its position, even when it was soaked in tears. Tears? Why were they crying? Patton said that they were monsters, and monsters don’t cry. Then again, monsters don’t help people either… 
Logan watched the two sides dig into the kit as fast as they could. Janus even removed his gloves.
Logan gazed at them tiredly, mouth lightly sagged open, “There we go! I think we can move him now Jan!” “Good! Let’s get him out of here before Patton comes back, I think he did this…”
Logan could feel his body raising to meet the ruffles of Remus’ tunic. The small teeth that embellished the ends of the fasteners rubbed against his shoulder. He didn’t have the energy to make any noise as the two sides took him back to their side.
He doubted he would ever return to the picture-perfect family he once belonged to ever again. He had his actual family, ready to help him through everything.
Janus bought him a new copy of his book too.
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rabdoidal · 4 years
Note
i know you listen to a lot of podcasts and ive found some of my favourites from hearing you talk about them! do you have any favourites?
under the cut! my top 10 podcasts at the moment:
Alice Isn’t Dead Genre: horror, thriller, drama, Lovecraftian, Americana Episode count: 30 (completed) Description: A truck driver searches across America for the wife she had long assumed was dead. In the course of her search, she will encounter not-quite-human serial murderers, towns literally lost in time, and a conspiracy that goes way beyond one missing woman. Thoughts: This podcast is, to me at least, completely flawless in every way. I would consider myself a person that listens to a lot of horror podcasts, but Alice Isn’t Dead takes the cake for its depictions of liminal middle America, the horror that is capitalism, and the most tender, realistic depiction of lesbians in any podcast. Anything else I could say would spoil it and for this, I don’t want to spoil it because I want every person alive that can stomach horror to listen to this.
Archive 81 Genre: horror, comedy, sci-fi, Lovecraftian Episode count: 35 (ongoing) Description: Archive 81 is a found footage horror podcast about ritual, stories, and sound. Thoughts: The latest podcast I’ve tried, and it’s definitely one that grows on you. The audio mixing is some of the best I’ve heard in any podcast, and every bump and scratch and hum of frequency weaves to form moments that are truly and viscerally gory. Season 3 and Left of The Dial are my favorites because again, I love Americana horror, and anything that involves family!
Artificial Ghost Radio Genre: non-fiction, discussion, comedy Episode count: 75 (ongoing) Description: Our Sisyphean music recommendation challenge with hosts Miles (he/him) and Jupiter (she/they) challenge each other to find songs based on arbitrary themes and to spin the WHEEL OF DISCORD to talk about a random song from their library! They can be found on twitter @artghostpod. Thoughts: Gotta plug my own podcast! We’re still small, but the people I’ve met from doing AGR has made my life richer and fuller, even through the ups and downs. I recommend starting with #58: Songs about Aliens ft. our friend Liz (@thescaryjokes)!
EOS 10 Genre: medical drama, comedy, sci-fi Episode count: 34 (ongoing) Description: Doctors in space, a deposed alien prince, a super gay space pirate and a fiery nurse who'll help you win your bar fight. Thoughts: It’s been a hot minute since I listened, but as someone that inherently loves things like Star Trek and procedural comedies, EOS 10 is a quick and hilarious listen! Fair warning some of the earlier stuff is a little bit ignorant when it comes to their LGBT characters, but it gets a lot better over time.
King Falls AM Genre: horror, comedy, Lovecraftian Episode count: 100 (ongoing) Description: King Falls AM centers on a lonely little mountain town's late-night AM talk radio show and its paranormal, peculiar happenings and inhabitants Thoughts: I’m a bit behind, but again, gotta love some Alpine American horror! King Falls AM perfectly captures the feeling and sound of listening to a small late night radio show with two bros, but it really goes from typical dude dialogue to heart wrenching found family alien conspiracy real quick. Same as EOS 10, fair warning for some ignorant language and LGBT stereotypes, but they address it and it gets better as it progresses.
Not Another D&D Podcast Genre: actual play Dungeons and Dragons, TTRPG, comedy Episode count: 128 (ongoing) Description: Welcome to the campaign after the campaign! Three unlikely adventurers attempt to right the wrongs caused by a party of legendary heroes who screwed up the world while trying to save it. Thoughts: I’m only like 40 episodes in because they’re thick, meaty ‘sodes, but god is NADDPOD fucking hilarious. I’ve tried a fair few TTRPG shows, but the chemistry and care that the cast has together is unmatched by others in the genre. I’m a complete sucker for shows that are so funny and so tragic in equal measures, and the entire concept of a D&D game set after the world has been so drastically changed by a different D&D game is so unique!
The Faculty of Horror Genre: non-fiction, horror, philosophy, sociology, feminism Episode count: 86 (ongoing) Description: Tackling all things horror with a slash of analysis and research, horror journalists and occasional academics Andrea Subissati and Alexandra West are your hosts for brain-plumping discussions on all things that go bump in the night. Thoughts: A little non-fiction in this list of fiction podcasts! The Faculty of Horror is a concise and educated intersectional feminist podcast, and it’s a breath of fresh air to listen to anyone that isn’t a cishet white guy talk about horror. I highly recommend the episode on Cabin in The Woods or Jennifer’s Body!
The Magnus Archives Genre: horror, office comedy Episode count: 180 (ongoing) Description: The Magnus Archives is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organization dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. Thoughts: TMA is, similarly to A81, a bit of a slow burn to get into, but I think once you listen to a few episodes you’ll know if you want to continue. It’s a pretty standard prompt for a narrative, but the sheer amount of individual short horror stories they’ve managed to write is insane! And I love the slow break down between recording statements and the stuff happening within the archives. Also one of the best redemption stories in a character that starts off as such a grumpy fuck!
The Penumbra Podcast Genre: sci-fi, neo-noir, romance, comedy, found family, magic, medieval fantasy, adventure, mystery Episode count: 75 (ongoing) Description: At the Penumbra, you might follow Juno Steel, a brooding, sharp-witted private eye on Mars, as he tangles with an elusive homme fatale, tracks dangerous artifacts of an ancient alien civilization, and faces his three greatest fears: heights, blood, and relationships. Or you might enter the world of the Second Citadel, where the merciless Sir Caroline must corral a team of emotionally distraught all-male knights to defend their city against mind-manipulating monsters...even the ones they’ve fallen in love with. Thoughts: On god TPP was a life changing podcast for me. Having creators that are genuinely concerned with accurately representing minorities with care and dedication makes me feel spoiled when I try listen to anything else. The two main universes are so different with their own set of histories and cultures, but I love them both so completely. If you want LGBT+ representation, this is the seminal podcast for everything non-binary, trans, queer, and people that aren’t afraid to change and have that change be known! I haven’t listened to another podcast that actually depicts transitioning like they do, absolute king shit.
Wolf 359 Genre: space drama, comedy, action Episode count: 61 (completed) Description: WOLF 359 is a radio drama in the tradition of Golden Age of Radio shows. Set on board the U.S.S. Hephaestus space station, the dysfunctional crew deals with daily life-or-death emergencies, while searching for signs of alien life and discovering there might be more to their mission than they thought Thoughts: Wolf 359 is like if you fell down the stairs and at the bottom of the stairs was a bear trap, and then after you step in the bear trap someone helps you take off that beartrap, but then they kick you in the nuts. Just replace physical pain with emotional pain. It can be so funny but also so fucking stressful and sad – w359 isn’t afraid to kill its darlings, and it will break your heart but you will still say thank you.
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duskyskz · 3 years
Text
- Erasure - 1
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Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader
With washed out, dyed pastel hair, sea salt and acrylic clinging to his jeans, Hwang Hyunjin expected to find himself many places that night. A jail holding cell. Under the abandoned train station bridge. Maybe even his own bedroom.
Your living room wasn't on the list.
Warnings - Some angst in later chapters, suggestive/smut, minor character death mentions, Hyunjin is an eboy and a little angsty, Changbin is doing his best as a big brother, slow burn (?)
A/N - Finally! Sorry for the delays, my head just hasn’t been with me this week;; I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am excited to write it. 
***
The steady buzzing of your speakers fills the living room as you watched Changbin scroll through the Netflix home page. Both of you settle deep into the sofa, balancing a bowl of popcorn and chocolate between your knees. 
“Endgame? Homecoming, Nightmare on Elm Street?” Binnie flicks through the suggestions, and you shake your head in distaste. “I'm not watching that octopus documentary again!”
“You only hated it because you cried at the end.”
“She died! He had to look after her little babies! Your heart is too cold, too far gone for that level of compassion.” The last part of your brother's grumbles are cut off when you throw a burnt kernel at his forehead, barely missing his ear. 
There’s nobody else home. Nobody else ever comes home, either. It's been just you and Changbin for a while, and it's not all that terrible. He’s a few years older than you, having graduated last summer and now undertaking an apprenticeship at the village police station. It doesn't pay a stellar amount, but Changbin reassures you once he passes the trainee exams he’ll treat you to a new pair of winter boots and you can finally quit the ice cream parlour to focus on college. You tell him that even if he wins the lottery tomorrow, you'll work your own job. For all the support your elder brother gives you, you like having your own thing. It makes you feel a little more involved, a little more even than jsit washing the dishes and doing his laundry on days he’s too tired to move. 
The Thursday evening is reserved for you both, to catch up on the hours together you miss during the week when Changbin doesn't get back till you're fast asleep and you don't have the chance to say good morning. 
He’s been doing that a lot more recently. 
Sighing into his coffee, shaking his head at nobody in particular. It's easy to notice the signs of stress and overwork in his face, sunken and tired even on the weekends when he finishes early. 
“Do you wanna finish Teen Wolf?” The softness in his voice when he addresses you is the same, though. “We have three episodes left of this season, if you wanna binge.”
“Sure.” You want to ask him about the circles under his eyes. What’s got him coming home later and later because nothing ever happens in this town. “I'm still waiting on Derek’s redemption arc.”
You're twenty minutes into the episode when a vibration from your coffee table catches your attention. You glance at Changbin, but he ignores his ringtone, flipping it to silent.
It rings again, no music, but harsh vibrations drumming against the polished wood. 
And again.
Knowing he’s not picking up to make a point of it, you pause the show, nodding at the mobile he’s avoiding glancing at. “Go on. Pick up, it might be an emergency.”
“If it's an emergency they don't need an intern there.” Despite his words, Changbin shifts his position and you know he’s growing hesitant. 
“If it's an emergency all the more reason for you to be there and learn.” You state with more force behind your tone. “Why have your grades been dropping? You're coming home so late but your exams keep getting delayed -”
“My grades are fine!” Changbin never snaps at you, but the frustration in his voice is evident. “I'm fine. There's just - Just one case we're working on and I'm nearly there, I just need time.”
You shut your mouth, letting him speak.
“There’s this kid who keeps tagging the beach houses on Dawning Lane, and that shit  was expensive to put up last year. Some stupid, bored child that thinks a few cans of spraypaint and lung cancer are a good excuse for your adolescence. He’s not even that good… Just scribbles.”
His lips pout in a frustrated whine at the last phrase, and you know he’s more frustrated at the situation than he is at you or himself.
A beat of silence, interrupted by another ringtone - you almost reach for it yourself to check the caller ID and force him to pick up, before Changbin’s arm shoots out past you to snatch the device, slinking out the door and into the hallway. 
You aren't surprised when a few moments later, your brother’s head pokes nervously out the door frame - He's already got his coat on, waving his phone at you as an awkward goodbye. 
“I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.”
“Yeah, see ya.” You salute back, smiling to ease the tension in his shoulders, and it works a minimum. You won’t see him till the late evening at best.
The door clicks shut as soon as he turns around, leaving you surrounded by popcorn and empty space. You really aren't surprised - but it'd be pointless to deny you weren't hurt by another night alone with Teen Wolf playing idly through your TV speakers. Cold popcorn only did so much to soothe your heart, and the distance wedging itself recently between your sibling bond was hard to brush over, between missed calls and texts too often left unanswered. 
You just really miss your big brother.
 You commit yourself to Stiles Stilinsky instead, sighing into the blanket around your shoulders. Autumn rolls in quick by the seaside, making your calves prickle with goosebumps. It's nearing 11pm, you realise, picking up the -
Thump!
Your fingers freeze, hovering over the TV remote. Changbin wouldn’t be back yet, he never comes home the same night he leaves. 
“Bin?” You try it anyway, calling tentatively into the hallway. It’s still entirely black, void of disruption.
Clang!
That definitely came from your kitchen.
Armed with a half empty popcorn bowl and nerves of steel, you tiptoe into the other room. There’s a lump of something or someone crouched behind the dining table, and your grip around the glass dish tightens marginally despite the quivering of your knees, fumbling for the lightswitch without taking your eyes off the rising dark mass as it straightens its back. 
“S-Stay down! I have corn and I know how to use it!” You don’t have a fully formed plan yet, but you’re sure the sharp kernels will be of some importance. Fluorescent white light floods the kitchen, momentarily blinding both you and the intruder who now stands at full height. A steady 12 inches above you. 
“Ouch! Calm down, I’m not going to rob you!” He says, sounding almost exasperated at your defense of your own property. He still has his hands raised in defense, keeping the table between himself and you, and you’re grateful he hasn’t tried to knock your legs out from under you, yet. “I’m not here to steal your stuff.”
“What are you here for, then?” You lower the popcorn bowl, but don’t let it fall out of your grasp. He doesn’t seem dangerous - He doesn’t seem like he could manage clambering through the window you always leave ajar either, but here he clearly is. There’s something sticky and pink in his blonde hair, stains following down his shoulder blades all the way down the cuffs of his jeans. If anything, he looks...a little lost.
“It’s the address on the post-it note.” Your confusion must have been plainly obvious, because the boy elaborates, pulling a crumpled neon-green paper from his jacket. “The post-it note that man gave me. That’s what Changbin gave me.”
Perhaps you lack self preservation instincts, but there’s an uncertain vibration in his voice that makes you give up your weapon and attitude. 
“You know my brother?” 
“He told me if I really need to go somewhere, I can come here.” You watch slim fingers tug at the sleeves of his jacket as he measures with a weight akin to a glare. “He didn’t tell me it was his house, or that somebody else was living here.” 
Bold of him to accuse you of ruining his night plans. 
It really did only click in your head when you looked closer at his tangled hair, dried paint clumping it together at the ends of bleached blonde strands. The  artistic menace haunting your sea-side town was standing right on your tiled kitchen floor, and he looked downright miserable. 
And Changbin had invited him. 
Biting down the discomfort at realising how little Changbin had been telling you recently,  you set the popcorn down on the table, you take in the threat currently three feet before you. A tall, lanky boy, with odd shoelaces and a sharpie sticking out of his trouser pocket. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while, and probably brushed either - it’d be generous to say he ran more than a stressed hand through it anytime recently. Though chapped, his full lips and wide eyes made him look far too innocent for his own good, and you blamed your soft heart for finding the boy kinda cute. 
He did have a leaf stuck above his ear, though. 
You almost reached up to remove it.
“Do you wanna watch Teen Wolf?”  You break the quiet that settled, already shuffling your feet out into the living room. You sincerely hoped he’d follow. You weren’t sure what you could do apart from leaving him standing on cold tile, and he already looked freezing from the night chill. 
Luckily for you, with a hesitant step, your impromptu companion takes after you to the couch where your Netflix and remove still await instruction. Changbin might grumble at you tomorrow at finishing the season without him, but you needed something to lure the boy into comfort. 
“I’m y/n, by the way.” You mention. The boy sits stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap with parted lips, avoiding the decorative pillows. 
“Hyunjin.” Now that he’s actually inside your house, Hyunjin’s confidence seems to have evaporated. The thrill of the break-in, if you can even call is that, has worn off, giving way to the nerves. He’s suddenly too conscious of the paint on his clothes, of sandy shoes still on his feet, of the smudges still on his cheeks. Should he take his jacket off? Or wipe his shoes? 
You press resume, watching him relax after a few minutes as his brain finally has something else to focus on to let his worries ease. Hyunjin doesn't seem to mind you already being halfway through the episode, and you let yourself admit it’s nice having someone around this late at night. 
“How do you know Changbin?” You ask while the topic is still fresh.
“I don’t.” Hyunjin bumps his knees together, fiddling with a loose string on his jeans as he shrugs. “I don’t really know him, he just...saw me around a few times, and I guess he figured I could use a place to crash. So he gave me your address.”
“You’re the mystery kid painting the beach houses, right? On Dawning Lane.” 
At the accusation, Hyunjin’s lips part, flipping to face you with wide, blinking eyes., knowing he’s in no place to try and deny it. You blink back, observing his reactions, in case he suddenly changes his mind about staying. “Are you gonna turn me in?...” 
“No.” You shake your head after a moment of thought, and he visibly untenses. “For whatever reason Changbin didn’t, so I won’t either. If he trusts you then I do too.” 
You’ll never know if it was the murmurs of the TV, or if Hyunjin did whisper a thank you, and you won’t ask. There’s a lot of things you do want to ask, but a tug in your heart tells you now is not the time. Hyunjin looks exhausted, eyes drooping with every slow blink as he does his best to focus on the screen, hands previously tugging at his jeans now still and flat on his lap, slouched forward as if any moment he’ll drift off sitting on your pillows. Flurries of fluorescent light flicker on his cheeks, over barely scrubbed paint smudges and faint cuts from running too fast, you guess. In the delicate, dimmed light of your floor lamp, it’s hard to imagine Hyunjin as a bad kid. Prickly, maybe. On edge is a better word for it, tension clinging to his shoulders like stubborn dust bunnies. Curse your naive little heart, you tell yourself, building up your courage to speak.
“Hyunjin?” He hums in response, straightening his back. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”
All you’ve been taught in life sent alarm bells through your skull when you asked a complete stranger (who just two hours ago, broke in through your kitchen window) to sleep in your living room overnight, but Hyunjin didn’t feel  like a stranger. Changbin trusted him enough to lead him right to your house, so that must count for something, right? And no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up around the boy, watching him struggle to stay upright instead of letting his tall, lanky body fall backward and rest comfortably only made you worry a little about him, not the other way around. 
Well, he did say he’s not going to rob you. 
“You can sleep on the couch if you want, I’ll bring you some blankets.” You prompt him again when he doesn’t respond. “Changbin won’t be back for a while still.” 
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” There’s a lilt of doubt in his voice, but he sincerely hopes you’re serious. This couch is warmer than anything he’s slept on in months and he really doesn’t want to crawl outside again with the rain pattering against your roof. 
“Sure, you haven’t tried to stab me yet.” You shrug, getting up to fetch a duvet and looking him over.
“Ah, you probably want to wash your hair from all...that,” Hyunjin’s hand flies to his hair, patting out the tangles as if it’s the first time he’s noticed them. “You can use the bathroom upstairs, there’s towels by the shower already.”
He nods, following your directions with a ‘thank you’. Once his footsteps disappear up the landing, you set about pulling out the couch into a flatbed, rearranging the pillows at its base. Lugging the duvet down from Changbin’s room had been a feat, but you’re determined to make the space welcoming. Satisfied with the cushioned bundle you created, you run back upstairs. 
You invade your brother’s room for the second time that day, tugging open his drawers in search for something acceptably pijama-like. 
“Hyunjin?” You knock tentatively on the bathroom door as the shower head turns off and the shuffling ceases. “I’m leaving some clothes for you to change into outside, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”
You scroll through your timeline as you wait, catching up on the last few hours’ events from your friends until a shuffling to your left prompts you to raise your head. 
Your brother’s sweats hang a little loosely around Hyunjin’s hips, ending just above his ankles, bare feet sliding over the wooden floor of your living room, sinking into the rug as he steps closer to where you sit. His own clothing cradled in his arms close to his chest, you can’t stop your thoughts drifting momentarily to the damp mess of sunshine coloured hair. With his jacket on earlier, it was hard to make out his build under layers of fabric, but now it’s proving a challenge to not focus on the lines of his arms or the curves of his large hands gripping his clothes. Luckily for your dignity, your nerves of steel allow you to drag your gaze away from the collarbones peeking out from under thin white cotton higher to meet his eyes instead and find your voice again.
“I brought down some pillows for you, these are a bit too hard to sleep on.” You note, pointing to the decorative cushions you moved onto the lounge chair. “My room is right opposite the bathroom if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.” 
“M’okay.” Hyunjin towers above you, yet you’ve never seen a boy so dainty. There really is no other way to describe the delicate line of his nose bridge or the rosy tint of his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them as he mulls over your words, settling down on the makeshift bed. 
The proximity now feels different than the air between you when Teen Wolf still blared through your speakers, warm quiet heavy on your tongue with dim golden glow tumbling over his cheekbones that’s too much for your heart to take unprepared.
“Goodnight then!” You bounce up from the couch waving Hyunjin a quick goodbye, but a soft hand wrapping around your wrist pauses you. 
“Wait,” Hyunjin brushes his thumb over your palm softly, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on your skin at the contact. “Thanks for not kicking me out...or calling the police. Y’know, as most people would for a break in.” 
The smile he flashes you is almost teasing, but you can tell he means the words sincerely. You lay your other hand on top of his, patting in what you hope is a reassuring motion.
“Sure, Jinnie. It’s okay.”
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booklover41802 · 3 years
Note
Ok can I ask for another Jurdan prompt it’s post Wicked king it’s been several months since Jude was banished and she’s physically healthy again. Vivi decides Jude needs a girls night and forces her into a sexy revealing outfit, Jude gets drugged while Vivi’s distracted but Cardan rescues her before she gets hurt. And it has a happy ending. I love your angst but I want to see your Jurdan happy ending.
Of course! This was really fun to write, and to explore Cardan’s soft side :)
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Jude
Sitting on the couch in Vivi’s apartment made Jude wonder why mortals ever bothered to do anything. A fish stick dangled out of her mouth, while she swung her legs over the side of the plain colored couch, contemplating life. Her mind had withered and decayed while in the mortal world, wit and strategy a non-essential thing.
She shoved the fish stick in her mouth, swinging her legs and forth, her head resting against the cushions. As she took a bite, Vivi bounced in from the kitchen, a wild glint in her golden eyes, her hands hidden behind her back. When she stopped in front of Jude, Vivi’s lips downturned at the sight of Jude with a fish stick in her mouth. “You’ll choke if you swallow that bite sitting down.”
“I am perfectly content to lie like this while I finish this decadent meal,” Jude said around the food in her mouth. She swallowed, trying to prove her point, but ended up choking. She coughed, ejecting the fish stick from her mouth. Studiously avoiding Vivi’s gaze, Jude discreetly cleared her throat.
“I told you that was going to happen, Jude.”
Jude waved her off and sat up. “Mistakes are the only decisions I seem to be making these days. What’s one more? I have expectations to fulfill, I can’t disappoint myself by doing something good.”
Vivi’s ears twitched as a wicked grin curved her lips, showing off her unnaturally white teeth. “I think I have a solution to your depressing outlook on life.” From behind her back, she pulled out a lacy red body-suit, a black leather mini skirt, and dangerously high black heels. She threw them at Jude. “Put these on, we’re out to a club.”
Jude abandoned the half-eaten fish stick on the table and wrinkled her nose at the clothing. Carefully picking up the body-suit like it was a bomb, she looked at it, then Vivi, and back to the outfit. “You want me to… wear this?”
A mysterious light filled her eyes at Jude’s words. “Of course. How else will you find someone if you wear the clothes you have on,” Vivi motioned to Jude’s wrinkled pajamas. “I have your best interests at heart! It’s time to have some fun, Jude. Cardan is not coming for you.”
Jude winced at her words, knowing she was right, but a small bit of hope was still wrapped tightly around her heart. Of course, Cardan wouldn’t pardon her, but what if he did? What if he still loved her as fiercely as she loved him? What if what if what if. “Only time will tell.”
Taking a deep breath, Vivi took a seat beside her, readying her emotions for the heartbreak she was about to give Jude. “It’s been three months, Jude. You’ve heard nothing from Faerie, and I doubt you ever will. The Fae are not a loving folk. Love is rare to find, especially with a King. Cardan may have loved you at one time, but at this point, it’s better to let go than to hang onto something that will never happen. Cardan is my friend, but you’re my sister-”
Jude raised a hand to stop her from continuing, knowing she was right. The hope that Cardan would show up on their doorstep deflated, but didn’t truly go away. There was one thing that kept it alive. One tiny little detail that Vivi was unaware of. “But what if-”
“Jude-”
“Whatever, I’ll just put it on,” Jude said, trying to hold back tears. Why now? Why had the grief hit her months after being away? Was it the realization that she had something to fight for? That she wasn’t just something that Cardan could throw away, that she was the Queen?
She rose from the couch, outfit in hand, and stalked away to her bedroom to put it on. As she strode towards her room, she angrily wiped away tears, hating Cardan for making her feel this way. 
Jude softly shut the door, bracing her hands against the frame, wondering just what she was getting herself into. Her head fell to her chest as she counted her breaths, trying, and failing to calm herself. One breath in, one breath out. 
When she had calmed herself enough, she padded over to the mirror up against the wall. Her clothes fell to the floor with barely a sound. She studied herself in the mirror, noting how she had lost weight in her time spent away from Faerie, her gaunt cheekbones protruding ever so slightly. “What have I become,” Jude breathed. “Who have I turned into?” Perhaps it was time to stop clinging to the past as if her life depended on it.
Mind made up, Jude slid the silky lace bodysuit on, shimmied into the leather skirt, and shoved her feet into the ridiculous heels. As an extra precaution, she slipped the rowan berries over her head. When she gazed back into the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. After all, this wasn’t an outfit typically worn by the Queen of Faerie. It was perfect for a night like tonight. 
She strutted out the door with a flounce to her steps where Vivi waited beside the door. Vivi donned a steel gray dress with little ruffles at the bottom that clung to her figure in all the best possible ways. Around her neck was a single golden chain that held a circle with the letter H on it. Her wrists were cluttered with chunky bracelets, on her ears dangling all sorts of earrings. 
“Jude… you look incredible!” Vivi exclaimed, her hands coming up to cover her mouth in awe.
Jude frowned as she looked down at what she wore. “It’s different from what I’m used to. There’s no place to store a knife in this outfit with it clinging so tight to me.” As if to prove her point, she attempted to pull the fabric down a few inches.
Vivi’s brows furrowed together as she gently grasped her hands to stop her from pulling on it. “Stop yanking the skirt down, it’s supposed to be that short.”
Stretching out of Vivi’s reach, Jude headed for the door, wondering why she even agreed to go out. “Let’s just go before I lose my nerve.”
Behind her, Jude heard Vivi squeal. It was going to be a long night. The pair of them walked side by side out of the apartment, and down to the street below. The streetlights outside of the apartment cast their shadows across the sidewalk, elongating their figures in odd proportions.
Then there it was. The club loomed up like an omnipresent figure dangling at the back of one’s mind. Dark paneling paired with an emerald green overhang shadowed the entire block across from the apartment. High windows rested above the overhang, giving a glimpse into the action inside. Rainbow lighting swirled and twirled from within, music reverberating against the establishment. In golden script the club name was printed on the green fabric.
“The Ouroboros. How original,” Jude said, unimpressed.
Vivi pulled her into the line behind all of the other night owls who couldn’t avoid the enthralling pull of the club. “It’s a new club that just opened up last week. It’s the only place in the entire city where humans and Faeries can come together.”
“Do the humans know they’re among faeries?”
Vivi’s hands twitched as she looked away awkwardly. “Well, no, not exactly. The folk that come here are glamoured to appear as normal humans.” 
The line moved fast, and soon enough they were through the door with a flash of false IDs. The bouncer hardly spared them a glance, already motioning for the next set of people inside. They slipped past the velvet rope and into a whole other world.
All along the walls were scones cast with flickering blue light resembling flame, casting the club into a mysterious glow. Jude wouldn’t be surprised if it actually was, as the folk played many tricks upon the mortal eye. High above in the rafters flashing multicolored lights passed over the cluster of bodies dancing in the center of the club, illuminating their features. One glimpse of a tail, another of a wing, scaled skin, a shimmery dress, and sweaty limbs. 
 Vivi craned her neck, searching the crowd, “I think I see Heather, I’m going to talk to her!” She vanished into the throng of dancing people, leaving Jude alone.
“Thanks, Vivi,” She muttered to herself, casting her eyes around to see if she could find the bar. She spotted it at the very back, the bar made entirely of gold, glistening under the lights.
As she got closer, she noted the bartender possessed eyes like a snake. She wondered how many mortals were deceived by his glamour. His eyes snagged on her, and they narrowed in suspicion. She shifted her gaze to the other patrons sitting there, noticing nothing unusual about them.
She slid into an open seat to have just one drink. She needed it to get her mind off Cardan. Surely one wouldn’t hurt. “Give me your strongest drink,” she shouted over the blaring music thumping in her ears.
The bartender eyed her once and motioned for her ID to be inspected. He glanced at it, her, and back to the ID. He shrugged and poured a glass of a dark frothing liquid in a shot glass. Smoke poured over the sides, like little spiders of death. He slid the drink to her, and she downed it one gulp.
The liquid burned her throat, searing the inside of her mouth. She wouldn’t be surprised if this stuff started to pour out of her ears and eyes. Perhaps she was just a lightweight, but the drink hit her hard. Already her head felt as though it was filled with cotton, the music a dull roar in her ears.
A man in a dark, pinstripe suit with a hat pulled low over his face slid next to her. “Long night?”
Her drink was refilled and she once again downed it, not sparing the man a look. “You have no idea.”
“Allow me to make it better by paying for your drink. They call me Atlas, darling. Can I have your name?” He stuck out his hand over the drink he had ordered for her. A crimson-colored thing that resembled blood. 
She turned her head to gaze at the man next to her. The lights passed over his face for a brief second, lighting up the scar that fell over his left eye. With caution she took his hand, gently shaking it, feeling his cold grip seep into her own. “No, but you may call me Nicasia.” Whoever this Atlas person was, she did not trust him in the slightest.
The man, however, burst into loud, obnoxious laughter, banging his fist on the bar. “Now that is the funniest joke I’ve heard in quite some time, darling.” Atlas wiped false tears from his eyes and quickly sobered up, a smirk curving his lips. “Who are you really?”
She took a sip of the drink he had given her and immediately felt the world spin under the feet. “St-Stop calling me darling,” Jude slurred.
“Darling I think you need to lie down. Or, should I say, Jude.” His lips upturned as she stumbled off her chair in an attempt to get away from him. The man began to reach out for her, prepared to guide her to one of the open places scattered across the club.
As she was trying to get away from the bar, Jude backed into another man, the scent of wildflowers and wine tinging the air. She whirled around, nearly falling in her ridiculous shoes. The man steadied her with a light touch on her arms. Her vision was too blurry to make out his features, only detecting a faint resemblance in the back of her mind that she knew him. 
“What she needs is for me to take her home. And for you to stop calling her darling.” A voice said. The voice that haunted her dreams, nightmares, and waking moments. Cardan.
“And who are you?” Atlas sneered.
With a woozy head, she turned to gape at Cardan. How did he know where to find her?  
“Her husband,” Cardan’s black eyes burned as he glared at Atlas as if trying to singe him where he sat. “I believe my wife will be just fine under my care.”
Those words were enough for Atlas to disappear into the crowd. His figure was gone in an instant, leaving Jude and Cardan alone at the bar. 
Cardan reached out and laced his fingers with Jude’s. “Jude, I believe you’ve had enough for tonight. Come with me. You’ll be safe.” He began to tug her towards the exit to bring her where she could get the drinks out of her system.
As soon as she began to walk, Jude lifted her heavy head to look at Cardan, seeing double. Her head rocked back and forth of its own accord, behaving on its own axis apart from the rest of the world. “Jude?” Cardan moved closer, so they were mere inches apart. 
The club flickered in and out of focus, her attention torn between giving in to the blissful darkness, or to stay with Cardan. Distantly she could hear him shouting her name, begging her to hold on. Her name on his lips was a panicked scream torn from his lungs. “Stay with me! Jude!”
No longer could she clutch this awareness any longer, and before she knew what she was doing, she grasped hold of his lapels and pulled him close, drawing a breath, to whisper, “I love you, Cardan.” Then everything went dark. 
When she awoke some time later, she and Cardan were outside of the club sitting on a bench, with just the open expanse of sky stretching above them, and the luminescent stars winking at them. Cars passed by them, the drivers not sparing them a glance, unaware that royalty was in their midst. It was then that she noticed that she was lying on his lap. She became very aware of their proximity but didn’t deign to move as her head was still pounding from the drinks she had. “Wha-what happened.”
Cardan absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair through his fingers like a nervous tick. Even just this brief bit of contact sent shivers running down her spine. “A man put something in your drink and had planned to take you somewhere far from the club. I heard him bragging about it before he sat next to you.” Cardan’s face darkened as he reminisced on the past. Jude proceeded to pull herself into a sitting position, her head swimming as she pulled her knees close to her chest. Cardan shifted awkwardly next to her as he adjusted without her weight. “Thank you for… saving me. I owe you.”
He cleared his throat and looked away, focusing on the apartment across the street. “The debt is forgiven.”
The silence stretched out between them, words falling short of what they both desired to express. Jude was the first to break it. “Why are you here, Cardan? You banished me. You humiliated me. Now you’re back like nothing has happened? As though we can go back to the way things were?” He opened his mouth, likely to spout an excuse. She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “No. Tell me the truth, no half-truths.”
He swallowed once, took a breath, and searched her face as if deciding how much to reveal. “I thought you would have gotten my letters by now. They explained it all and my guilt for what I had done. Every day I spend without you is a day with my head underwater. I am drowning without you. I miss you, is that what you wanted to hear? That you are the one person I cannot live without. I-I love you.”
Jude stared at him blankly. “What letters?”
A wicked grin curved his lips at her words. He reached out his hand and tilted her chin up so she was looking into his black eyes. “So you truly have no idea of what I’m talking about?” He cocked his head as he studied her. “Have I finally matched you in your wit and intelligence? I outwitted you, Queen of deceits and lies, admit it.”
She yanked out of his grip, crossing her arms. “I will do no such thing,” she hissed. 
But Cardan merely sidled close and ran a finger along the lower side of her lip. Her pulse jumped at his touch. “Hmm, is that so? Is that why you didn’t detect the riddle in my words because you are more clever than I?” His voice was low and throaty, his pupils dilating. When he was like this, she almost wanted to give in, but she held back. Barely. 
She didn’t respond, too caught up in what his touch did to her. She was utterly destroyed by him. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing and moved his focus to distract her by moving close enough to kiss her. “What did you say before you passed out? Tell me again.”
“I love you.” She should stop, she should tell him to move away because she was angry at him. But the moment she saw him, her anger had fizzled out, and she had no real reason to deny him. 
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Cardan.”
He seemed to be floating on his own isle of paradise. His smile took on a softer edge as he scanned her face for any falsehoods. When he detected none, he leaned forward and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead. “I missed you more than I can ever express, Jude. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”
“But I’m banished, and I cannot return,” she whispered under her breath.
“Are you not the Queen and my wife? Do you not wear a crown? Until and unless she is pardoned by the crown, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life. You could have returned at any time, my darling Jude.”
It was official. Jude was the biggest idiot on the planet. In answer to his words, she pulled him closer to her and hugged him around his middle. Her face was buried in his chest as she said, “I was a fool, blinded by anger. I did not think you were capable of such mastery of words.” She shuddered against him, a few tears falling down her face. “Is this a dream? Am-Am I dreaming?” She was afraid if she opened her eyes, she would wake up in her room at Vivi’s apartment and none of this would be real.
After a brief pause, Cardan rested his chin on her hair and held her tight against him. “This is real. I’m real. We can go home, together.”
She didn’t let go as her lips trembled under the sheer relief that he was here and wasn’t going to disappear. “Take me home, Cardan.” 
Jude felt his smile as he brought his lips close to her ears, his breathy voice sending tingles all across her skin. “I thought you’d never ask.” 
Tags: @illyrian-bookworm, @highladyofstoriesandmusic, @webcraft4eveh, @thefangirlofhp
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sophfic27 · 3 years
Text
The Mysterious Watch (You know the one)
Read on AO3
First, Previous, Next
Chapter 3: Small Talk and Ugly Curtains
Word Count: 1,735
The car was quiet for a few minutes as Yaz followed the directions from the phone. Yaz considered turning on the radio but decided against it. She wondered what kind of music Jo would even like. She glanced to the woman on her left, who was watching the scenery scroll past. She wasn’t sure she would ever adjust to Jo being Jo, it was just too weird. She kept going over the differences in her head. Most importantly, Yaz hoped she would have her friend back to normal soon, but she knew it was important to the Doctor that she played along.
She glanced over to Jo again, and she suddenly became curious about her. The Doctor implied that Jo was fully convinced she was a real person, which meant she would have a background: memories, attachments, a life Jo wouldn’t be aware wasn’t real. Yaz was curious about what she thought and knew, so finally breaking the silence, she asked a question. “So, Jo, where are you from?” she asked, figuring she might just start simple.
Jo glanced over to Yaz. She hesitated for a second before answering. “Huddersfield,” she finally responded. Yaz nodded thoughtfully, the answer made sense with the Doctor’s accent. She wondered if the Doctor had planned that specifically. If not, how much of Jo had been automatically generated by whatever process the Doctor had undergone to become human? Jo cut into her thoughts. “What ‘bout you?” she said.
“Here, actually,” Yaz replied, “I’m from Sheffield.”
Jo nodded, “convenient mission for you, then,” she commented.
Yaz looked at her briefly. “Yeah, it is.” So much for no aliens in Sheffield, she scoffed internally. She decided to press a little further. She was curious to ask about UNIT but decided to avoid it, in the case that asking triggered some realization. Instead, “chasing down aliens. Not really where I saw my life going growing up,” she said.
“No kidding,” Jo chuckled lightly, “when I was a kid, I wanted to be a Doctor,” she said. Yaz blinked but didn’t say anything. “How I wound up doing this, I have no idea.” Jo threaded her fingers together behind her head, leaned back in her seat, and turned her head to look at Yaz more fully. “What did you want to be?” she asked.
Jo was doing the small talk for her, Yaz thought with amusement. She considered how she would answer, and decided the truth wouldn’t be too dangerous. “I was a police officer, actually,” she said.
Jo raised her eyebrows. “You were a cop?” there was a hint of mirth in her voice.
“Well, I was a probationer,” she said. She cocked an eyebrow at Jo. “Why? What’s that look for?”
Jo shook her head lightly. “Nothing,” she said, “just, I’ve met a few police, had to deal with them on the occasional mission. So many of them are so stubborn, refuse to believe even what’s right in front of them.” She looked back at Yaz. “But not you?”
Yaz thought of the first time she met the Doctor. She wondered if Jo’s comment was based on some residual memory of that day, and of her. “Actually, I kind of was,” she mused.
“What changed?” Jo asked.
Yaz suppressed her instinct to respond, “you.” Instead, she went the vague route. “Saw something I couldn’t deny,” she responded. “Once I knew what was out there,” she looked over to Jo, holding her gaze for a moment, “well, there’s really no going back to normal after that, is there?”
Jo studied her. “Guess not.”
Yaz turned her eyes back to the road. “What about you?” she asked, “what were you doing before this?”
Jo looked back out the window of the car. “I was just traveling. Got dragged into this stuff by chance.” A very vague answer, Yaz thought. “We keep up this ‘getting-to-know-each-other’ talk, and this’ll start to feel more like a first date than a mission,” Jo quipped. Yaz scoffed, slightly shocked by the comment. She saw Jo drag her eyes over Yaz from out of the corner of her eye. “Not that I’m complaining,” Jo drawled.
Yaz felt her face get hot, and she looked over at Jo. A smirk played across her face when she met her eyes. Yaz looked away quickly. Her thoughts raced for a minute before she realized they had arrived at the warehouse.
“We’re here,” she blurted, looking for anything to kill the buzzing in her head. She parked and started to unbuckle and get out when Jo stopped her.
“Hang on just a second,” she said. Yaz stared at her in confusion. “We’re going to go in there and talk to the renters and find out what they’re using the warehouse for.”
Yaz suddenly remembered what they were her to do. “Right, so how do we get them to talk to us?” she asked.
Jo reached into a pocket of her jacket and produced a familiar leather object. “Psychic paper,” Jo announced, “this’ll get us in.” She smiled confidently.
Yaz nodded. “Okay, that’ll work,” she said.
Jo went to unbuckle her seat belt as she explained, “since I have the psychic paper and the info, I’ll do most of the talking. Follow my lead, keep an eye out for anything weird that you might see,” she looked up and met Yaz’s eyes, “and use those police skills to see if they say anything shifty.”
Yaz nodded again, “it’s a plan,” she said.
Jo grinned and climbed out of the car, Yaz following suit. She locked the car and they approached the entrance together.
The building was large and relatively plain. There was a set of steel stairs leading up to the door. She could see big metal panels she guessed could probably be opened for loading and unloading trucks. Jo and Yaz climbed the steps together. Jo tried the door, which opened easily. It lead immediately into the main warehouse. The ceilings were high, there were boxes all over the room on palettes, and there was music echoing around the place from a stereo somewhere in the back. The echoes garbled the sound too much to actually identify what was playing. Yaz and Jo scanned the room, but there was no one immediately visible. Yaz heard someone laugh from somewhere to the right of the large room. She and Jo exchanged a look, and she knew Jo heard it, too. They made their way toward the sound. They discovered a small office in the back right corner of the warehouse. Through the window, Yaz saw a man sitting in a chair, facing away from them, and on the phone.
They approached the office, and Jo knocked on the open door. The man turned in his chair to see them, and Jo gave a small wave. He turned to speak into his phone. “Hold on just a minute, mate, someone’s here to talk to me I think,” he said. He waited for a few beats, and Jo gave Yaz an exasperated glance. “Alright, I’ll call you back in a bit,” he said and tucked the phone into his pocket. He stood and wandered over to where Yaz and Jo stood. Yaz took in his jeans, ripped at the knees, his plain grey tee, and his ratty flannel jacket. Unimpressive, but not particularly alien, she thought. “Hi, can I help you?” the guy said.
Jo produced the psychic paper once again, showing it to him. “Hi, we’re from the rental company,” he squinted at the psychic paper and then looked at Jo, “we just wanted to ask a couple questions,” Jo explained. “What’s your name?”
He looked between the two women. He was only an inch or two taller than either of them. “Carl Mason. I’m not in trouble for anything, am I?” he said nervously, “I thought all of our rental stuff was in order.”
“It is, we just need a few details about your usage of the space,” Jo continued. Her voice was level, professional in a way the Doctor rarely was.
Carl looked confused and a little suspicious, so Yaz decided to add in, “don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. We just had an issue with a renter using a space,” she paused for effect, “inappropriately.” Carl nodded, as if knowingly. “So now we need to check in with the renters with more vague descriptions of usage in the application.”
Apparently satisfied, Carl started to walk over to a small filing cabinet in the office. Jo gave Yaz an impressed look. Carl came back with a manila folder. “Well, no issues here, just me and some mates selling our curtains.” He handed the folder to Yaz, and she opened it to find a series of curtain designs.
Jo leaned over to look at the folder. “Curtains?” she asked, looking back up at Carl. Yaz flipped through at least five pages of some of the ugliest curtain designs she’d ever seen.
Carl nodded proudly. “Yep! Me and my mates designed them ourselves!” he announced happily.
“It shows,” Jo muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Yaz to hear, but not so much that Carl seemed to notice. Yaz glanced at Jo, stifling a chuckle.
Yaz closed the folder and passed it back to Carl as Jo said, “Right, thanks, mind if we take a look at some of your boxes? And then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Carl nodded and said, “sure, go for it.”
Jo and Yaz split off to explore the warehouse. Yaz scanned the whole room, looking for anything out of place while Jo pulled open a few cardboard boxes and dug through their contents. Neither found anything noteworthy. They came back together, Jo shook her head and Yaz shrugged slightly. They turned to say goodbye to Carl, but he had already disappeared back into his little office, now typing something on his computer.
Jo looked at Yaz. “D’you just want to go get a drink or something?”
Yaz blinked at her. “Isn’t it a bit early in the day for that?” she said incredulously. Jo just shrugged and started to head for the door. Yaz followed her helplessly, wondering if the Doctor drank. She didn’t remember ever seeing her drink. Maybe it was just a Jo thing. Despite only knowing Jo for a few hours, she thought she was starting to get a better feel for who she was, independent of the Doctor.
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softstanwrites · 4 years
Text
freelancer 6.1, changkyun x reader
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an: I broke this one into two parts because I really just wanted to post something. also got a lil lazy towards the end. 
word count: 1860
warnings for mentions of blood and makeshift surgery i guess.
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She froze, the feeling of her own consciousness floating above her. Her eyes went a little blurry as she tried to focus on the situation at hand. His voice became instantly recognizable, even after not hearing it for three years, and threw her thoughts into a flurry. She never thought she’d see him again and definitely not like this. 
“Changkyun,” She spoke breathlessly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He groaned, moving his head to look up at her with blurry eyes as she shuffled closer to him. The harsh light from the hallway light framed her adding a halo around her. Angelic, he thought. A smile came to mind but he couldn’t will it to his face because of the immense pain that he was in. Instantly, the harsh throbbing in his body, he let out another strained groan as he fought to keep himself awake, slumping down further against the wall. His arm dropped to his side and she could see what was causing all of his pain. A wound, on his abdomen and it was bleeding profusely. 
She jumped in shock, “Wha - what the fuck? Were you shot?” She asked and received no intelligible answer. Changkyun instead mumbled something and rocked his head back and forth. She pulled his shirt up and away from his injury to get a closer look. As she’d expected, a bullet wound not any bigger than 10 mm. She steeled her nerves before taking a look at the wound closer. She couldn’t see the back end of the bullet. It was deep inside of him and that was going to be a problem. 
“Changkyun,” She called to him and she covered him with his shirt again. She looked over his face. His eyes hazed over with pain and brimmed with un-cried tears. “Changkyun,” She waited for him to respond back. “I’m going to go get my phone. We need to call the ambulance.” She said moving up away from his crumpled form on the floor. But before she could he mustered up all the strength he could, jolted to her and grabbed her arm, stopping her but sending waves of intense pain through his side. 
“No” His hoarse voice shouted out. She was dumbfounded.
“Changkyun, you’ve been shot!” She exclaimed but remembering where she was she lowered her voice. She had been trying to keep herself calm, invoking her doctor’s persona. But with Changkyun showing up unexpectedly, hurt, and now refusing actual help, it was enough to make her want to pull her hair out. “You need medical attention. Now, is not the time for you to be a stubborn bastard.” She stirred to get up but he held onto her arm. She wanted to remove his hand but she could see that his eyes were nearly closed and his mouth mumbling words. She moved closer to his face putting her ear to his mouth. 
“Please Y/N, don’t call. Just help me out right now.” He begged in a strained voice. “I’m not going to make it if you leave me here. Please, it hurts so much.”
She looked down at him, seeing him in so much pain made tears come to her eyes. Her breath became ragged as she watched his eyes close, pain still written all over his face. He was still breathing but his breath had become extremely shallow. She couldn’t keep her composure and quiet tears slipped from her eyes and fell down her face.
“Fuck,” She whispered out, removing herself from him. She shakily made her way back into the apartment looking down the small hallway inside. She could still hear Sojung’s loud music playing from her from her room. As long as she didn’t come out of her room she could move Changkyun into her room and go from there. She puts turns to put a stopper in the door before returning to his side. She wrapped her arms around his body, making sure to steer clear of his injury.
“Okay,” She braced getting ready to use her strength to pull him up. “I need you to stay quiet, Sojung can’t know I'm bringing you in here.” She didn’t get a response from him, not even a strained muffle and it made her heart quicken in panic. In one fell swoop she brought him up to nearly standing position, almost falling before centering his body weight with her own. Slowly, she shuffled through her open door and down the hallway to her bedroom. “Alright, we’re almost there,” She whispered to him, beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead. The two of them were in the home stretch, already passing the living room and the kitchen and just making it past Sojung’s bedroom door on the left hand side. Her bedroom was just past the hall closet on the right side, right before the bathroom that sat at the end of the hallway. Before she knew it she was shuffling through her door, Changkyun in tow. 
She placed him on the bed before checking his breathing. He’s breathing but it’s so soft. Barely even there, She noted, before exiting the room. She ran back to the front door checking in the building’s hallway to see if any evidence of Changkyun was left, thankfully, nothing was there so she closed the door and locked it before moving to Sojung’s room. Y/N needed to make sure that she wouldn’t come into her room. She knocked on the door and waited for a muffled come in over all the music before opening the door. 
“Hey.”
“Hey, what’s up?” Sojung said, turning from her art that was in front of her. It was a large canvas that she had propped up against her wall, the undone painting seemed to be of the Seoul skyline at night but it looked skewed and offset. She grabbed her phone, and turned down the music that was blasting through her speakers. 
“Nothing much, I’m just going to head off to bed.”
“This early?” Sojung questioned, not knowing Y/N to really be the type to hit the hay before 1 am.
“Yeah, I’ve got a meeting to go to in the morning before my shift so I need to wake up early for it tomorrow” The lie running off of Yn’s tongue with ease.
“Oh, should I turn the music down for you?”
“Oh no no,” Y/N acted, pushing off her concerns. “I'm probably going to listen to some asmr or something till I fall asleep. I just wanted to let you know.”
“Okay then, goodnight Y/N” Soojung said, sending her friend a soft smile.
“Night” Y/N mimicked Sojung and smiled back, even sending her a little wave before closing the door to her room. Y/N waited for a heated moment for Sojung to turn her music back on before rushing back into her own room. Once inside, she locked the door and turned on her desk lamp, pointing it at her bed. 
Changkyun laid on her bed almost completely still, the sight of him almost lifeless made Y/N panic. But she took deep breaths to calm down, reminding herself of all the training that she had gone through. Y/N rummaged through her supplies that she had in her room. Some of it was medical supplies that she had used during college on dummies that they had allowed her to take home, some of it was things that she had brought on the internet with a discount that her job had given her. She grabbed the thing she would need to help him like gauze, towels, large tweezers, skin glue and antiseptic fluid and cream. She carefully took off his blazer and started unbuttoning his shirt when he started to stir in her grasp and his breathing became heavier and more weighted. Y/N watched as his eyes strained open and he looked around the room. 
“Hey, I asked you to help me out, not help yourself.” His voice came out strained and rough but she welcomed it. It was a good sign that he wasn’t on the brink of death like she had assumed and had enough strength in him to still be his annoyingly witty self. 
“Shut up, I need to be able to see what I’m doing.” He wanted to laugh at her reaction but his wound made it too painfully. “I need you to breathe slowly and deeply, okay?”  Changkyun nodded as she took off his shirt and re-positioned him on the bed. She tossed the two items on the floor before grabbing a pair of latex gloves and putting them on.  She tied two pieces of gauze tightly around his abdomen, above and below the gunshot, to stop most of the bleeding. Then she started to inspect the gunshot. With gentle fingers, she pressed around the injury to see if she could locate the bullet and when Changkyun flinched and groaned, she knew she had found it. She turned to grab her tweezers and sanitize them, ready to remove it when he spoke up.
“Wait, wait,” He sounds exasperated, the remnants of pain not leaving his face. “You’re just going to go in? No morphine? No nothing?”
“Well maybe if you had let me take you to the hospital, I could get you all that but I don’t have any of that stuff here. You’re going to have to tough it out, babe.” 
Y/N didn’t realize that the world slipped out until it was already hanging in the air. Turned back to him and thankfully for her, his head was facing the other way. She waited for him to say something but he hadn’t reacted to what she said. Not a little quip or snarky comment, or even a grunt from him. So she decided there wasn’t a reason to address it. Besides, she had to focus on the task at hand. She scooted back to the bed in her chair and carefully inserted the tweezers in his side using her hand as a guide. 
She had found that the bullet was pointed outwards and if it had more momentum it would exited his body. She wished it had because this would have been an easier job to do than to watch his face scrunch up in pain every time she pulled on the bullet but finally she got it out. From what she could tell, it had hit no major arteries or organs.The only thing now was the healing process and hopefully avoiding infection. She cleaned the wound and dressed it antiseptics before closing the wound with skin glue. She cleaned it again before covering it up with gauze and wrapping his whole lower abdomen.
She cleaned up, taking all the bloodied materials used and either cleaning them or sneakily throwing them down the trash chute in the building. When she returned back to her room, Changkyun had already fallen asleep. His chest raised and fell at a slow but steady pace and after watching him intensely for over 10 minutes, she figured that he was stable enough for her to get some sleep as well. 
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alex im thinking of listening to some of the podcasts that u like so i can relate to you again, what do u recommend
okay babe so i’m probably the worst person to ask for podcast recs because (despite being a podcast blog) i have listened to like three podcasts in my life and two of them are horror but here goes i guess (under the cut because it got long)
The Magnus Archives: this one’s obviously the first. Horror + tragedy but really its just a workplace comedy but not really. The Magnus Archives follows Jonathan Sims, The Head Archivist as he tries to get the archives in order while not knowing anything about archiving while trying to figure out what happened to the previous archivist while also trying to stop the apocalypse(s). Currently running (Season 5). Episodes every Thursday. Check the triggers for each episode before you listen. Very Gay. Critically Acclaimed. 10/10
The writing is insanely good. A Lot of lore to keep up with. current favourite podcast. I am emotionally attached to so many characters. Definitely listen to this if you can stomach horror and weird sfx (including but not limited to: worm noises, Man Attempts To Chop His Finger Off And Fails Repeatedly ASMR, and [extended sounds of brutal pipe murder] but NO kissing noises). Took me 16 days to complete but then again i didn’t have anything better to do.
Welcome To Night Vale: this one was my gateway podcast. episode one changed my life. kind of existential/cosmic horror but also a comedy. Told in the form of community radio broadcasts, it follows the daily happenings in the town of Night Vale, a high-key fucked up place, narrated by the omniscient radio host Cecil Palmer. Currently running. Bi-monthly (episodes every 1st and 15th). VERY Gay. 9/10
The writing is pretty deep. Fun to listen to at the end of a day to unwind. Not really horror horror, but wtnv has a special place in my heart.  I honestly could not tell you the timeline if held at knife-point. The weather is always great. Would unhesitatingly die for Khoshekh, Cecil and Carlos. Has several novels (+ a tv show in progress).
Limetown: okay so this was one of my first podcasts. Audio Drama with True Crime vibes (it’s entirely fictional btw). Limetown is a fictional story told as a series of investigative reports by Lia Haddock , a journalist for American Public Radio, detailing the disappearance of over 300 people at a neuroscience research facility in Tennessee. Completed. Two seasons. Apparently it was adapted into a tv show. Not Gay. The writing is good. 7/10
Fun to listen to but it can get a bit loud (as in both loud jump-scares and loud volume). Finished it in one day back in 2018. It was pretty interesting but I don’t recall much. learnt some pretty interesting things from it though :) The music in this was excellent, and i remember thinking the writing was good too.
The Penumbra Podcast: my most recent listen. i LOVED it. made a sideblog for it and everything. Audio Drama. It has two separate storylines: The Juno Steel series (noir detective +sci-fi), in which Juno, a brooding private eye on Mars tangles with an elusive homme fatale etc etc. The second storyline is The Second Citadel (fantasy), in which Sir Caroline must corral a team of emotionally distraught all-male knights to defend their citadel against monsters. It’s a lot more fun than I made it sound just now. Trust me. Currently running (Season 3). Episodes usually every other Tuesday. Super. Fucking. Gay. 10/10
I am emotionally attached to this podcast. It’s my comfort podcast. Joshua Ilon has a great voice, by the way. The writing is incredible. I would say something about how it talks about humanity etc but i can’t because i’ll cry. I kin Juno but that’s irrelevant. I am living for the found family + organised “crime” (is it really crime if it’s against capitalism?) trope in junoverse season 3.
The Black Tapes: one of my first podcasts! Paranormal Horror + Investigative Journalism. Alex Reagan, journalist at Pacific North-West Stories, investigates sceptic Richard Strand’s collection of Black Tapes- records of paranormal encounters he couldn’t disprove. Everything Is Connected TM. someone once said the magnus archives was the black tapes but better and yeah. Completed (? they re-released a bunch of episodes and i think they’re planning on releasing another season). Three Seasons. Not gay. 5/10
i listened to this in 2018 and i thought it was good at the time but it’s kind of. not bad. i guess? the writing was meh but its good background noise. Takes like 15% of your concentration to keep up with what’s going on. It’s fun in that Conspiracy Theories And Chill kind of way. The ending of season 3 was disappointing. Richard Strand kind of vaguely reminds me of mr darcy in that what-part-of-me-insulting-you-to-your-face-did-you-not-understand?-i’m-in-love-with-you way. but i’m playing it up too much. very underwhelming.
Lore: Non-Fiction. 30 minute episodes about dark historical tales, touching on both the macabre and the paranormal. lot of folktales and stuff but also a lot of real historical tales (but only the Fucked Up ones). You can listen to the episodes in any order. Bi-weekly. Currently Running. apparently it has a tv show and book series too. 7/10 but only because it’s excellent background noise + story inspiration.
great for listening while doing other work like math homework, which is what i do. it’s interesting enough and requires like 8% of your concentration to keep up. Aaron Mahnke has a relaxing voice. Would recommend if you spend a lot of time driving or something like that.
Alice Isn’t Dead: made by the same people as wtnv. Mystery + Supernatural Horror + Drama. A series of audio diaries by a truck driver searches across America for the wife she had long assumed was dead. In the course of her search, she will encounter not!human serial killers, towns lost in time and a conspiracy that goes way beyond one missing woman. Completed. Three seasons. has a novel that i did not read. 7.5/10 from what i remember
i never finished this one actually. it’s been on my list since forever but i kind of stopped after season one. all i remember was that it was good. planning on finishing this soon.
anyway that got long so if you’re still reading this <3 
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exo-can · 3 years
Text
Growing Pains: Send My Love (To Your New Lover)
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A collection inspired by Adele’s album 25
A/N: Sooo, it’s been a while lmao.
Please note that this is part of a series, although this chapter has enough in it that you can infer what is going on so it can be read by itself. 
Previous Chapters:
 When We Were Young (Smut) 
I Miss You (semi-smut) 
 River Lea(Smut)
Warnings: Smut (like a lot yo. Probably the filthiest thing i’ve written ok.) , cursing, choking, hairpulling, Yoongi is not happy about your confession  but has emotional constipation so chooses to take it out in ~other~ ways
Sunlight casts it’s warm glow over you, body growing hot under the mountain of blankets you'd haphazardly thrown over yourself late last night. You don’t move though, letting the rays of light burn against your eyelids as you bask in the afterglow of sleep. That is, until you felt the slickness of sweat in the crevices of your form. Sighing lightly, you shift on the couch and feel the heaviness begin to fade from your limbs as stiffness takes its place. The apartment is quiet, the city too. That magical sunday haze always makes it seem like the world is running at half-pace, if only for a few hours in the morning. Slowly, you crack your eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall above your tv. 11:14… you note silently. Woojin must have left for work without waking me.
And just like that, your calm morning is gone, spirited away by a fresh wave of emotions that you can no longer chalk up as only guilt. A second sigh escapes you, though this one was much heavier than the first. Pushing the blankets away from your body, you sit upright on the couch. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you straighten the crumpled outfit which you’d never bothered to change out of last night. Spotting your phone on the coffee table, you pick it up with a yawn and tap the screen to life. A couple emails, some notifications from various social media platforms and one text that makes a soft smile curl your lips upward without your knowledge.
 Yoongi                          4:38am
Did you get back okay? You could've stayed you know.
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 "It's me." the words had sounded timid as they'd left your mouth, even by your own ears.
“I know.” He didn't sound surprised, which irked you. You knew what he said on the roof, but a part of you still worried that this was a game to him. A game in which he knew he was currently holding the winning hand. “Caller I.D."
“Right.” A faint heat bloomed on your cheeks as the elevator doors gave a soft ‘ding’ and opened to the apartment buildings lobby. Plopping yourself down on one of the plush leather chairs, you fiddled anxiously with the sleeve of your oversized jacket. A dim crackle of radio silence echoed across the speaker, not quite sure what to say now that you’d actually dialed his number. You tried though, a feeble “I-” making it’s way up from your vocal cords before the line went quiet again.
Thankfully, Yoongi was the first to break the tension. “Do you want to come by? I would’ve offered at Luna’s but…”
“No, I’m glad you didn’t. I’d rather not broadcast what we’re up to to them.” You answered honestly. It wasn’t that you didn’t love and trust your friends. It was just that it was much harder to explain what you were doing when you yourself didn’t even really know. “But yeah, I would… if that’s okay.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want you to, Y/N.” Yoongi reassured you, making your insides twirl. “I can come and get you. You still at Luna’s building?”
“I am, but that’s alright. You’re already at home.”
“It’s not far.” He insisted. “I don’t mind. Besides, this way you don’t have to wait for a cab.”
You bit your lip, and responded. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I am.” A rustle could be heard on the other end, which you could safely assume came from his pushing his arms into his jacket. “I’ll be there in ten. Wait for me in the lobby, okay? It’s cold out.”
This made you giggle. Thoughtful and protective as ever. “Yoongi, it’s July.”
“I know but,” he replied with a sigh and you wondered if he was making that cute exasperated face that he used to make whenever you teased him, “just humor me, okay?”
“Okay.” You said, the remnants of laughter still present in your voice. “See you soon?”
He hummed in agreement before adding, “I’ll text you once i’m there.”
“Alright, bye.”
“Bye.”
The line went dead and immediately you began to fidget, nerves beginning to set in. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect when you went over there. There wasn’t time on the roof to discuss the details of what this arrangement would entail. Everything with Yoongi was grey, reminding you of how your relationship had started back in college. He never was big on discussing this type of stuff, you remarked silently. Yoongi was and always had been a man of action, not words. Words he saved for music. Once upon a time, you had found this incredibly frustrating. Now however, you were grateful that you could explore your rekindled relationship, whatever it may be, without the pressure of definition. Perhaps it was time that made the craving for clarity you had when you were younger wane. Or perhaps it was the fact that diving deep and defining what this was, meant you’d have to face the demons residing in your head. Whichever, you knew that there was one thing you’d have to lay out on the table for both of your sakes. As much as the thought of doing so made your heart clench and your gut churn with dread.
The screen of your phone lit up suddenly, a new text flashing up on the lock screen which read:
 Here. Black car right in front of the doors.
             Gathering yourself up from the couch, you took a soothing breath before stepping out of the building. Sure enough, a black car sat parked directly in front of the doors which gently clicked shut once you’d let go of the metal. Seeing the car, it was suddenly that much clearer to you that Yoongi really had worked hard in the time you’d been apart. As college kids, neither of you had driven, the cost of having a car in the city being too much for either of you to justify. Now however, it seemed Yoongi didn’t have a need to pinch pennies like he used to. The black car parked in front of you acting only as evidence of this fact. It was nothing obnoxious, but you could tell that the car had cost a fair amount more than your used Honda. Steeling yourself, you grasped the sleek handle on the door and climbed inside.
           Settling as gracefully as possible into the luxurious leather seat, you sneaked a glance at Yoongi. A pang of guilt washed over you, realizing he had already changed into sweats and a simple white t-shirt before you’d called. You let a frown turn the corners of your lips downward. “Thank you for picking me up.”
           A small chuckled emanating from his chest made you look up from his clothes. His face was encased in the blue glow of the lights from the dash of the car. His hair was slightly tousled, blonde tufts just long enough to sweep over his eyebrows. A teasing smirk played at the edges of his mouth while his dark eyes regarded you.
           “What?” You fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.
           “It’s been years and you still haven’t learned to just let people do things for you, huh?”
           Rolling your eyes, you gently pushed at the hand that was draped over the gear shift. “I just don’t like being a bother.”
           “You never are.” His blunt response made you blush, your gaze travelling down to your lap where your fingers toyed with one another.
           There was no need to look up at him, you knew he had a pleased expression on his face. Playing with you had always been one of his favourite things to do, if only because of the color it brought to your cheeks. Shifting the car into drive, he pulled away from the curb.
Both of you fell silent as Yoongi drove, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Lingering familiarity with one another eased the tension alongside your earlier banter. Turning your eyes toward the streets that passed you by, you wondered what his place was like. Did it measure up to the car? Your mind attempted to conjure up an image of what type of place you pictured Yoongi living in. However, everytime you tried to picture him living somewhere posh and luxurious, like the car, you couldn’t. The Yoongi you’d once known liked urban places. Area’s full of little nooks and crannies hiding the best of what the city could offer by the people who were its life blood. Hell, you couldn’t even count the number of times he’d led you through obscure alleyways and because ‘I swear, it’s the best in town’. And frankly, he’d always been right. Though that never stopped you from teasing him, calling him a hipster and laughing when he rolled his eyes. You didn’t even realize you were sporting a small smile while recalling all old memories until you felt it drop.
           It really hadn’t been far, just as Yoongi had assured you. The car ride only lasted about 15 minutes before he was turning a corner to come before tall wrought-iron gates enclosing an area that was towered over by a few highrises. It was then that you realized that the car really did match the house as Yoongi unrolled his window and gave an amical wave to the man sitting in a small booth just on the other side of the iron bars. The man gave him a friendly grin before opening the gate for Yoongi’s car to pass through. Rolling his window back up, you sidled up to the passenger door, gawking at the height of the buildings before you. Yoongi’s fingers drummed against the head of the gear shifter as he pulled into a parking garage. As he drove to his space, you couldn’t help but notice that all the cars you passed were on the same caliber, or higher, as his own. Reaching his own parking spot, the car came to a stop and you unbuckled your seatbelt. Stepping out of the car, Yoongi locked the doors and motioned for you to follow him.
All the way up to the apartment, you had the distinct feeling that he was watching you and the feeling only heightened once you were inside. You did your best to school your features, not wanting to come off as rude, but you couldn’t help your eyes from widening as you took in his place. From the entryway, you could see into his kitchen and lounge. Both were impressive. The kitchen was decked out with white cabinets and marble countertops while the living room was big enough that you were positive it could house the entirety of your small shared apartment. But the real thing that caught your eye was the view.
Floor to ceiling windows made up the wall to the outside world and with the height you were at, you could see nearly the whole city. Lights twinkled in the distance as you let out a breathless,  “Wow.”
“You like it?” Yoongi asked, his eyes still hovering over your frame as you slipped your shoes off to move closer to the windows.
“It’s beautiful.” You replied honestly, your gaze raking over the city. Eyes drifting down, you could barely make out the man sitting in his booth at the gate. Dimly, you noticed no one milled about the street down below, this area’s inhabitants much more used to staying within their pretty walls. You really had been honest; this place was beautiful materialistically, but something about it just seemed a little cold to you. There was no hustle and bustle here. It almost felt detached from the city. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand the appeal of being removed from the loud streets and neon signs, it was just so far from what you had known Yoongi to love when he was younger. These thoughts raced in your mind and before you could think better of it, you slipped, “but-”
           “But?” Yoongi had padded across the hardwood floors to you while you were in thought, handing you a glass of water that you hadn’t even heard him get.
           Quickly, you arranged your features into a warm grin, muttering a ‘thanks’ and taking a sip from the glass before speaking again, “I just always pictured you living somewhere more… lively.”
           Insecurity flashed across his face so briefly, you wondered if it really had been there at all as he rearranged his expression into the indifferent look you were well acquainted with. A hand came up to scratch the back of his head as he replied, “yeah, I guess it is a bit… much, isn’t it?”
           “No, Yoongi.” You rushed to say, worried you’d hurt his feelings. “It’s just a surprise is all. I knew you worked hard since we graduated, I just didn’t realize how hard.”
           This seemed to appease him, but you could tell that he knew you were trying to make him feel better from the slight downturn of his mouth. Nodding, he motioned to the white couch in the living room. Relief flooded your veins at the realization that he was as content to drop the subject as you were when he said, “sit with me?”
           Nodding, you padded your way across the hardwood floors to the couch, settling down in the middle. Yoongi followed, plopping down onto your right, leaving you to immediately question your decision making skills as the scent of his cologne engulfed you in the close proximity. A pale arm came to rest on the back of the couch as he wedged himself into the corner, legs spreading comfortably. A knee knocked yours and you forced yourself not to gasp at the contact. Slim fingers drummed the cushion, close enough to you that you were sure your hair was grazing the tips each time he lifted them. A jolt of desire churned in your stomach, unable to quell the images of where else those fingers had touched not weeks prior.
           “So, what about you?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
           “What about me?” You replied, trying to hide your blush as you took a sip of water, willing the liquid to kill the flames inside you before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. After all, you had no idea what to expect from tonight. You had no idea what Yoongi, or even you, expected from this causal relationship. Though your body certainly seemed to know what you wanted.
           “What are you doing now?” He said. “I just realized that I never really asked. Did you apply at that newspaper after college?”
           You hid the wince at the mention of that particular venture. “Um, I did, yeah.”
           “And you got it? That’s great, Y/N-”
           “Oh, no, I didn’t get the job.” You responded quickly, suddenly finding the spacious room more than a little stifling.
           “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”
           “No, it’s okay!” You plastered a bright practiced grin on your face and looked up at him, the same grin you’d given all of your relatives when they asked the same thing. Not wanting to make it more awkward, you blurted, “I actually got a job at a gardening magazine. It’s proofreading but the hours are great and the pay is pretty decent too.”
           “Well, that’s great— wait,” He paused, a look of confusion passed over his face and your stomach dropped. You should’ve known better than to say anything to him of all people. “Proofreading? I thought you hated doing that.”
           A melancholy chuckle left your lips. “I did, but honestly it’s not so bad. I could do worse.”
           He hummed, not in agreement but acknowledgement and the fact that you could hear the difference irked you. “Are you gonna stay there for a while?”
           It felt as though a crack had split your smile and Yoongi was peering into it. Were you really still so easy for him to read? It wasn’t fair, not when you felt like you were constantly chasing a shadow. The remains of the smile slipped from your lips and you considered his question. You shifted as you contemplated, your knee now leaning against his fully while your body twisted so you could face him more. Fingers brushed against your shoulder as you spoke softly. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore.”
           “Why’s that?”
“I just—” you sighed, your brows furrowing together unable to help the way Yoongi seemed to pull the truth from you in any situation, “when I started there, I told myself it was only temporary. But as time went on, I guess I just started to get comfortable, y’know? And now, I don’t know, it’s hard to just up and leave something without guarantee that it’ll work out. So I stayed.”
He leaned forward slightly, almost making you jump when the pads of his fingers found the nape of your neck and kneaded the skin softly. It was casual; he only needed to move a few inches to reach your skin, his arm still resting nonchalantly over the back of the couch. If you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have really thought it was anything besides a comforting gesture. But you weren’t just anybody. The action made your mind sift through countless memories in which he’d done the same. Once he’d found out the action was something you found comforting years ago, it had become a sort of habit for him. You didn’t know if he had meant to do it or if it was only natural after having dated all through college, but the gesture instantly had you feeling more at ease. However, the touch still made your breath catch.
Hearing the stutter in your breathing, Yoongi hesitated. His fingers came to a stop and made to pull away as he muttered, “Sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay before I—”
“Wait,” before you could think anything of it, your fingers curled around his forearm to halt him in his retreat, “it’s okay.”
It wasn’t actually, but with the way tension you hadn’t even known you’d been clutching on to had begun to seep from your limbs at his ministrations, you couldn’t muster the energy to deny yourself a reprieve.
A faint smile wormed its way onto his lips as your head tilted so that the skin of your cheek rested on his arm. In a voice so small you were sure he hadn’t meant for you to hear, you heard a barely there ‘cute’ just as his fingers resumed drawing shapes into your skin. Not wanting him to catch on that you’d heard, you drew your thanks into the skin of his arm, your own fingers mirroring the movements of his on your neck. With each shape drawn, Woojin grew more and more distant in your mind. Your resolve to confess grew weaker with every stroke while the butterflies in your stomach roared, finding the will to ruin this moment dismal.
“So,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over you two, “is this your move now?”
His head quirked and an eyebrow raised. “My move?”
“Yeah,” there was a teasing tone in your voice. “Instead of food stalls and diners you bring the girls up here to woo em’?”
A raspy chuckle shook his shoulders, a sly smirk stretching his lips. “Honestly, I haven’t had any of this long enough to try it. Why, is it working?”
“Meh,” you acted indifferent, shrugging your shoulders playfully and jiggling the arm that was half slung around you. “I prefer to be wined and dined.”
“I’d hardly call plastic stools, soju, and chicken ‘wined and dined.’”
“Hey,” you pouted, raising your head from his arm. “I’ll have you know I loved those stupid plastic chairs.”
“Don’t I know it.” He snorted. “You almost ripped my head off when you found out I went with Jin without you that one time.”
He wasn’t lying. You really almost did. “Well, yeah, but that’s because I always thought of it as our ‘place.’”
An amused look crossed his features. “Our ‘place?’”
“Yeah, y’know,” heat flared in your cheeks, absentmindedly squeezing his forearm out of embarrassment and mumbling, “like couples those in movies and shit have a ‘place.’ I thought of that as ours.”
“You thought of a street food stall as our ‘place’?” The mirth in his voice did not escape your ears.
“I mean, not just one. More like the street.” You replied sheepishly, earning you a genuine gummy laugh. The grips you had on each other loosened as his body rocked forward, his free hand landing on your thigh as his frame shook. Your heart did a somersault in your chest as the distance between you diminished. His laughter earned him a slap on the chest as your bottom lip jutted out. “Don’t laugh.”
“Sorry, it’s just, there?” His laughter died out, his hand on the back of the chair coming up to carry the weight of his head as he rested on it, your hair fluttering against his bicep. “Of all places?”
“Well, excuse me Mr. High-and-mighty. You have somewhere better you’re thinking of?”
“Your old apartment.” His answer was immediate.
“My apartment?” You questioned.
“Yeah,” he replied, a fondness glazing over his eyes as he looked down at you. “We had a lot of important moments in that place.”
Like watching a movie, memories flashed in your mind. Good, bad, and somewhere in between; all sorts of things happened in the confines of those walls. Some you wished you could forget. Some that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. It was only now that you realized just how close the two of you had gotten while you talked. His thumb rubbed at the skin just above your knee and he had drawn one leg of his own up onto the couch, folding it under himself so his shin pressed against the length of your thigh. The white shirt he wore billowed against your arm and upon looking at his face, you realized that if you leaned in just the littlest bit more, you would be able to stretch your neck up so your lips would meet. Looking at him, you finally saw behind his carefully constructed walls. The tender look on his face as his ink coloured irises gazed down at you told you that it wasn’t just you who treasured those memories. Eyes flicked from yours down to your mouth and you could feel his body coaxing you to just bridge the gap. Squirming under his gaze, your eyes dropped to your lap.
“I lived there,” you said with a shaky voice. “Doesn’t count as a place.”
An amused puff of air escaped him, fanning across your cheek down to your collarbone. Minty.
“So, is this how you get the guys now?” You couldn’t help but peer back up at him at the question. The hand that was on your leg rose to grip your chin, his thumb giving your bottom lip a featherlight stroke. A surge of heat rocketed through you at the contact. “By being a sore loser and pouting when they prove you wrong?”
This time, you chuckled, repeating his earlier words, “why, is it working?”
“Yes.” He admitted instantly, your legs pressing together in response. His hand holding you in his grip, dark eyes drifted down to where his thumb sat just below the ridge of your bottom lip. Your own eyes dropped too, watching raptly as his mouth came closer and closer to your own. The air felt heavy, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as your tongue snaked out to wet your lips, catching the salty tip of his thumb. Letting your eyes drift back up, you saw that his irises had become darker, his lids drooping slightly and exuding lust. He was going to kiss you and god, did you want him to. But as soon as you felt the slightest brush of his lips against yours, the face of your boyfriend popped into your mind. Jerking, you pushed him just far enough away that you could drop your head in shame.
“Yoongi, wait.” You fought the trembling in your voice. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Ever-respectful, Yoongi immediately released you. His hand fell into his lap, your skin instantly mourning the loss as he leaned back away from you. Studying his face, you could feel your heartbeat quicken and your palms growing clammy. He watched as you tried to summon your courage, the only sign that he was worried being the way his brows scrunched to make the faintest ripple in the skin of his forehead. Taking a slow breath and trying not to pay attention to the way your face suddenly felt so much warmer, you spoke, “I should’ve told you this on the rooftop, but I-”
Your throat clenched around the syllables and your hands curled into fists where they had fallen on your lap when he had backed away from you.
“Hey,” Yoongi replied, reaching out to the hand on your lap before hesitating. Deciding you needed the comfort, he let his hand lower to stroke the skin. “It’s all right. You can tell me now. Or not. I never meant to push you into anything and if I have-”
“No! It’s not that. It’s nothing you did.” You immediately responded, your hand flipping to hold his tightly in reassurance. “I- um, I’m actually seeing someone.”
“Oh.” His hand was still in yours but you felt it go limp in your grasp. It was almost comical the way his eyes widened before his carefully constructed mask slipped into place. The silence was suffocating. If you tried, you could probably hear every car within a block of his place right now. Ink irises swept over your face and lowered your head, guilt surging through you. Sensing that you’d outstayed your welcome, you began to rise from the couch only for his fingers to contract and pull you down to the couch again. Landing rather ungracefully, you met his eyes once more. “Is that why you freaked out the next morning?”
You didn’t have to ask for context. “Yeah, it was him on the phone.”
“Hm…” He hummed, more to let you know that he’d heard you than anything. His eyes studied your face, as though searching for something. But what, you didn’t know. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Um,” you replied, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I was a little bit busy freaking the fuck out.”
He gave you an exasperated look, his grip still tight on your hand. “I mean that night.”
You opened your mouth to answer, only to shut it again. Why hadn’t you? You’d been drinking, but not nearly enough to make you forget something so vital. Even when you were having sex, you knew it was wrong in the back of your mind, and yet you hadn’t let out a peep. Sifting through your memories, you couldn’t really find a definite answer. At least you had the decency to shoot him an apologetic glance.  “I should’ve, I know.”
“And after?”
“I didn’t think your number was the same?” It was a sorry excuse and you both knew it.
“You didn’t think to ask the six friends we share?”
“I-”
“He doesn’t know does he?” The question he cut you off with was more a statement than anything.
“No.” Something in Yoongi’s eyes seemed to click, causing shame to make your ears burn as you spoke.
“The way I see it,” Yoongi let out a small, humourless chuckle before a smirk settled onto his mouth and his thumb started to rub slow circles into the skin of your hand. “Most people who want something like this to go away,” He shifted closer on the couch and his palm began to glide up your arm. Your eyes shifted to your lap, knowing exactly where he was going with this. “Probably would’ve either stayed away or told me to shove off.”
The fingers of his right hand fluttered past your left shoulder as his shirt brushed the skin of your arm from his leaning closer. Everywhere he touched felt on fire, the soft pads of his fingertips pushing your hair behind your ear and exposing your neck did nothing to help. And then you felt his breath. Warm and flooding your senses enough that you couldn’t hold back a shudder. He chuckled darkly, letting his mouth come so close to your ear that you could feel the ghost of it along the shell. His voice was thick when he spoke, “you didn’t do either, so what exactly do you want?”
Your voice was hardly a whisper, heat beginning to churn inside your belly, “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.” He said with a laugh as his fingers grazed over your neck to cup your jaw. Gently, he turned your head so you looked up at him, his nose nearly grazing yours. He was close, so close, and yet never invading your space. Never taking that last step of intrusion without your permission. The city lit up the edges of his hair as he let your breath merely mingle with his own in the last inch of space between you. His thumb stroked your jaw lightly while his dark, hooded, eyes searched yours. “What do you want, Y/N?”
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, peeking out to wet your lips before swallowing the lump in your throat and saying, “He can’t find out.”
And then his lips were on yours. A mewl catching in your throat as your eyes fluttered closed because finally he was kissing you. Lips pillowed yours while his fingers left your jaw to tangle themselves up in the hair at the nape of your neck. Your hands flew from your lap to curl into the fabric of his shirt once again, pulling him ever closer. You were the one to swipe your tongue across the seam of his lips, practically begging him to grant you access. A month. One whole month since you felt this much heat pooling between your legs and all the man had done was kiss you, for christ sake.
When Yoongi finally let his tongue slide against yours, you really did mewl, making him chuckle into the kiss. He took the opportunity to explore your mouth, mint painting over your taste buds as one of your hands crawled up his chest to grip his shoulder. When your mouths parted, you leant forward, chasing his lips until a sharp yank of your hair moved you back into place. Seemed Yoongi hadn’t forgotten that you liked a little pain with your pleasure. Lips trailed across your cheek to your jaw as Yoongi made a humming noise, his hand fisting your hair to pull your head back far enough so he had full access to your neck.
“You seem a little wound up.” He remarked smugly before placing a wet kiss just under your jaw.
“N-no marks, Yoongi.” You moaned, fingers digging into his shoulder.
“‘Course not.” He chuckled, letting his lips and tongue glide down the column of your neck, leaving a wet trail in their wake. Teeth grazed your neck, but he did as you asked. “Wouldn’t want him knowing someone else is doing his job better, would we?”
You couldn’t reply, as the hand that wasn’t curled up in your hair grazed the skin of your thigh, inching ever higher. Instead, you let out a breathy exhale, the hand on his shoulder gliding to the nape of his neck. Lips travelled back up to yours, kissing you in slow, sensual pecks that wouldn’t be nearly enough to satiate you and he knew it. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to take the initiative to tangle his tongue with yours, you tried to take control. Leaning as far into him as you could while he still held your hair in a fist, you snaked your tongue out to touch his puffed lips. A chuckle rumbled through his body to yours before he slipped away. His fingers released their hold on you and he shifted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, his left leg tucked to line your thigh while the other dangled off the couch. Heady eyes appraised your tousled appearance, raking over your flushed cheeks to where your fingers were digging into your thighs. With a thoroughly smug smirk, he patted his thigh.
Perhaps the motion should’ve made you annoyed, the implication that you were something akin to a pet more than clear. But instead it merely threw gas on the fire roaring in your belly. Maybe a little too eagerly, you moved so you could straddle him as he stretched his legs out under you. There was no denying the heat that flashed in his eyes as you bunched the fabric of your skirt so you could lower your weight down onto him. The jean material sitting in the crevice where your ass met your leg and just barely covering your core from his eyes. Not that it would be on for much longer if you had it your way. Both hands came to cup his face, tilting it up so you could crush your lips to his. His own digits snuck under your jacket, dragging over the curves of your waist as his tongue slid over yours. One hand slid to the small of your back while the other roughly palmed your breast, making you break the kiss with a hiss. It seemed your breast was only a stop though, his right hand continuing its journey up to push your jacket away from your shoulder. Taking the hint, you leaned back to rid yourself of the coat. Yoongi let his right hand come back to your thigh, skimming his hand back and forth over the length of it, inching higher with each stroke.
Dropping the jacket on the floor unceremoniously, you hastily reattached his lips to yours. As you kissed, your body started to follow the motions, gently rocking on his lap in an effort to encourage his digits to just dip under your skirt already. You huffed in exasperation when the pads of his fingers left your leg completely, feeling him grin impishly into the kiss. His teeth caught your lower lip as his hand began to tug your shirt out from where it was tucked into your skirt. Releasing your lip, he commanded gruffly, “off, Kitten.”
Obeying immediately, you used both hands to peel the loose tee off before depositing it on top of your jacket, your core clenching at the nickname. As soon as you were free of the shirt, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist, wrenching you into him. Clutching his shoulders to steady yourself, wet kisses coated your skin from your clavicle to the mounds of your breasts. Cold patches of saliva coating your chest made you shiver when his breath ghosted over them. The digits on your back traced up your spine until they reached their destination, deftly unhooking the clasps of your bra. The straps hung on loosely to your shoulders until Yoongi took it upon himself to slide them down your arms. As soon as they were revealed, Yoongi’s eyes fell heavily onto your breasts. Throwing the bra to the side, his hands clutched your waist as he brought his mouth to a nipple. A tantalized sigh escaped you when his tongue slipped out to flick a pert bud, only to circle it after. Dropping your head back, pleasure bloomed inside you as he teased your nipple until it was hard before moving on to the other. Hands clutched your skirt, forcing it up and over your hips to expose your cloth covered sex. Satisfied with his ministrations, Yoongi pulled back to rest once again against the arm of the couch as his hands slid down to cup your ass. Fingers digging into your cheeks, he guided you into rocking over him, causing you to let out a moan.
“You’re a mess,” he pointed out, arousal heavy in his voice making it rasp in a way that you’d always loved. His words made you clench around nothing, grinding your hips into him for friction that you desperately needed and feeling his bulge through his sweats. “I haven’t even touched you where you really want it and you’re a mess. You’re practically drooling. I bet your panties are soaked.”
It was true, they were. You could feel it every time you rolled your hips, your underwear sliding over your weeping core so it was slick with your juices. His words did nothing to help, each syllable shooting straight to your groin. Pleased with the fucked out nod that you gave him as a reply, one of his hands released your ass, the other coming to your hip to still your movements. Nudging you to support your own weight, you were about to whine in protest when his free hand traced your slit lightly, making the noise die in your throat. With the pace of a snail, Yoongi moved his thumb to press into your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. A shuddered breath escaped you as you stuttered, “Y-Yoongi.”
“What is it, Princess? That desperate already?” He teased, speeding up his thumb every few strokes only to slow down once more. You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you were practically putty in his hands already. You blamed the weeks of fantasizing about him for it. When you didn’t respond, Yoongi leaned forward to bite at the skin of your breast with a growled demand. “Answer me.”
You were certain he could have felt the way your sex clenched at his rough treatment. Yoongi had always been dominant in the bed, but never like this. Never this vocal. However, it was a welcome change; a new trait of his you were more than pleased to discover, though a little curious as to what brought it on. Swirling your hips in an effort to get more friction from his touch, you let out a whispered “yes.”
“Good.” He hummed, fingers flicking your underwear to the side so he could finally touch you. His index ran along the length of your slit, to collect your juices. Pulling the finger back to gaze at the slickness that now coated the digit, he questioned, “how long has it been since you were this wet?”
You nearly groaned when he brought the finger to his mouth, sucking the traces of you off his skin. “A month.”
Popping the finger out of his mouth, he gave you a delighted laugh. “That so? Boyfriend can’t seem to get you going?”
“Not like you.” Your answer was immediate, leaning over to peck him softly as your hands strayed to the edge of his shirt that had ridden up from when you’d rocked over him. You moved your mouth to his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt to feel the soft skin of his stomach.
He hummed in approval, letting his head fall to the side to give your wandering lips more room. When he spoke, you could feel the rumble of his voice against your lips, “Good answer.”
Sliding his hand back to your core, he swiped his thumb over you, capturing some of the moisture before returning it to your clit. Much to your relief, he had deigned to reward you with a steady circular rhythm that instantly had you gasping into his neck. When his middle finger delved inside you, you couldn’t keep your nails from digging into his abdomen. Pleasure bloomed inside of you as he dragged the finger across your walls and out before inserting it again. Moans left your lips in encouragement, muffled as you sucked at his neck. Sure, he wasn’t allowed to mark you, but there were no rules against marring his skin. Your hands explored the expanse of his chest, nails digging in every few thrusts and pushing the shirt up higher. When he inserted another finger, you keened and dragged your nails from his sternum to his pelvis hard enough to make him hiss, though he didn’t stop you. Slowly but surely, your hips began to rock in tandem with his hand, the thumb on your clit now only making contact when you rolled down onto his hand. Yoongi curled his fingers inside you and you shook, rolling down harder as your walls spasmed. Unable to focus on anything other than his fingers, your lips ceased their onslaught on his neck to bury your forehead there instead, heat consistently rolling through you. With every push of your hips you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to completion, your movements gradually getting rougher as you desperately chased it.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Yoongi groaned, “look at you go.”
His words spurred you to lift your face from his neck to see what he meant. Uncurling from your tucked position, you felt a spurt of pride when you noticed the way the milky skin of his neck was splattered with red, some spots dark enough that you were sure they’d form a bruise. Eyes crawling down to where his hand was buried inside you, you realized that at some point when you’d begun to lose yourself to the pleasure, Yoongi had stopped stroking your walls. Evidently, your rocking had been hard enough that he’d had to lower you down until his hand was resting against his own pelvis, stagnant. Embarrassment made your hips stutter when it dawned on you that you’d been using his hand like a toy.
“Don’t stop,” he growled, the hand on your hip squeezing almost painfully as it encouraged you to continue rutting against him. The pull and push of his hand, eased you back into motion, his eyes locked on where your center swallowed his hand. When he was sure you’d continue without his help, the hand on your hip trailed up to cup your breast, tweaking the nipple under his thumb. The only movement from the hand inside of you was a gentle curl that accompanied each thrust of your hips and made the tension in your lower abdomen begin to mount. “That’s it. Fuck yourself on my fingers, Princess.”
Below you, you could feel how hard Yoongi was. His thick length brushing against your inner thigh in a way that you knew couldn’t be satisfying for him, though he couldn’t seem to care less. You ached to touch him, make him feel even a modicum of the pleasure he was so effortlessly pulling from you. But with the position you were in, it was impossible. So instead you clutched the hand that was gripping your breast and brought it to your lips, Yoongi’s eyes watching you curiously as you did so. Pushing his index and middle finger together, you wrapped your mouth around them and swirled your tongue around them as though his digits were a much different part of his body. Satisfaction made you suck when you heard the barely there moan that escaped his chest at the motion. Shallowly, Yoongi began to thrust his fingers into your warm mouth.
“Shit, you really are desperate for me aren’t you?” He remarked, an amused mask cast over his features, but you could see the lust underlining his irises. Instead of answering verbally, you merely sucked, coaxing his fingers deeper into your mouth. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as his fingers in your core began to move again as a reward. “He really must not be taking very good care of you. Or at least not like I do.”
There was just enough insecurity in his voice for you to catch it, though Yoongi stamped out any chance for you to soothe it by clamping his fingers in your mouth down to trap your tongue while the ones buried in your heat began a brutal pace.
“Bet I can make you feel better with my fingers than he ever could with his dick.” Yoongi’s mouth tilted into a wicked grin at his own challenge. You already have, you wanted to say, but the fingers holding your tongue down and the spasming in your core morphed it into a strangled moan. The tension in your belly was taut now, threatening to snap with any plunge of his fingers. When he scissored his fingers inside you, you knew you were gone. The deep rasp of his voice in your ears breaking the floodgate when he said, “C’mon, Kitten. Cum for me.”
A tidal wave of pleasure lit up your nerves like a christmas tree. The intensity of it made your body curl in on itself as your hands clamped down on Yoongi to keep yourself steady. Hips stuttering, you rode out the waves as Yoongi’s fingers in your mouth slithered out, a lewd string of saliva strung from his fingertips to your lips. As your movements slowed, so did Yoongi’s, until he gently pulled his hand away from your mound. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you watched as Yoongi spread his fingers in the soft light of his apartment. Traces of you coated his digits, shining when they caught they caught the light as he brought them to his mouth. Hooded eyes locked with yours as he cleaned his fingers of your essence and despite the orgasm you’d just had, you felt your sex clench greedily.
Leaning forward, you pulled his fingers from his mouth so you were free to capture his lips with your own. Releasing his wrist, you rested a hand on his shoulder as the other snaked down his body. When you finally reached your desired destinations, you squeezed through the fabric he still wore. Yoongi broke the kiss to let out a breath, warming your lips as you cupped him through his sweats, the length of his dick solid under your touch. Eager to return the favour, your hand slipped under the bands of his clothes, taking him in hand and relishing in the feel of the contact. Trailing your lips to his throat, you pumped him, a soft groan rumbling under your kiss. You didn’t mark him any more, merely brushing across the marks on him before delving further. Truth be told, you were frustrated that he’d opted to keep his shirt on for the time being, aching to see and feel the skin hidden by it under your lips. You didn’t let it distract you though, shimmying down his body and positioning yourself so that you straddled one of his legs while the one that was closest to the edge of the couch moved so his foot was flat on the floor. Once you were settled, you tugged on his bottoms. Lifting his hips, he let you tug them down just enough that his erection could escape.
Keeping your eyes on him, you curled over to place a chaste kiss on the tip, the slow strokes of your hand never ceasing. You saw him try and fail to hide a shudder, evidently hesitant to show that you had just as much of an effect on him as he had on you. Resting your hand on the base, you kissed down his hard length. He cast an annoyed look, which made you smile. You let your tongue loll out of your mouth, dragging it up the underside of his cock before taking the tip on your mouth. Sucking lightly, you tasted the first hint of precum on your tongue and hummed, watching as Yoongi’s eyelids drooped with pleasure. Never did you think you’d miss the taste of someone's cum, and yet here you were. The desire to him surged inside you as you took him into your mouth, your hand sweeping over the inches you couldn’t yet reach. Yoongi gathered your hair in his hand, swirling it so it made a coil that wound around his grip to keep it from impeding your efforts. Resting the hand on the back of your head, he urged you further down his length with every bob of your head. The sound of slurping echoed in the apartment as you did your best to pleasure him in all the ways you remembered him liking. Taking a breath through your nose, you let your hand fall to his balls, cupping and massaging at them. Yoongi’s jaw fell so his mouth hung slightly open when you sucked him down until his tip hit the back of your throat. His grip in your hair tightening as he muttered “shit.”
           The reaction made your stomach clench, rekindling the arousal between your legs. Sliding back up, your saliva coated his dick, the veins bulging just beneath the skin. Diving back down, you took him as far as you could, your free hand gripping his shirt in as you fought the urge to gag. He let out a small groan, his hand holding your head in place. Swallowing around him, he couldn’t keep his hips from jerking upward, tears springing in your eyes but you remained still.
“Fuck, I forgot how good at this you are.” Your lower half grinded over his leg in an effort to ease the tension that had built up in your core again as your heart swelled with pride from his praise. Easing up only a little to take a breath, you lowered even further, only stopping when the tip of your nose touched the skin of his groin. The moan you let out around him made Yoongi tipped his head back, relishing in the constriction of your throat on him and the feel of you rubbing yourself against him. Tears leaked out of your eyes as you struggled to not gag with him so far down your throat, failing once or twice. Though Yoongi didn’t mind, in fact he seemed to get off on it, a murmur of “good girl” falling from his lips each time. When the pressure became too much, you eased up once again, inhaling deeply. As soon as you went to take him in again though, the hand gripping your hair held you back. Brows furrowed in confusion, you fixed him with a questioning look as he sat up, dragging you up into a sitting position in the process. Yanking your head back to kiss a line up to your throat, he mumbled “I’d rather cum doing something else.”
A chill skittered down your spine, letting him push you around like a toy as he maneuvered you how he wanted. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he moved you to straddle him once again, lifting his leg that brushed the floor so it was once again on the couch. Holding you tightly, your chest was crushed to his, each breath making your breasts push against him. Weaseling a hand down in between you, you keened when he grabbed the base of his dick and ran the tip along your folds, quickly moving yourself to pull your panties to the side for better access. You were so wet again that you heard the slippery sounds of his head being coated in your juices. When he rimmed your opening, your head clouded with lust, desperation coursing through your veins and causing words to tumble past your lips without so much as a second thought. “Yoongi, please just fuck me.”
“Hm,” he hummed, holding you up so that you couldn’t sink down on him like you wanted. A smirk toyed at the edges of his mouth again as he admonished, “I think you can beg a little better than that.”
“Please,” Surely, you thought, this counts as some form of torture. A gasp escaped you when he let the tip of his length delve into you and proceeded to hold it there as words started to babble from your mouth. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a whole month. You make me feel so good, Yoongi. I can’t stop thinking about how you fucked me on that stupid chair and how much I just want you to do it again, how much I just want to feel you inside me again. I want you to stretch me out, fill me up, and make it so you have to carry me home. Please.”
“Much better.” His praise is accentuated by his length finally slipping the rest of the way inside of you, finding little resistance from how wet you were.
A pleased sigh left your mouth as his now free hand swatted yours away from your underwear to hold it to the side himself, thumb hooking into the material and pinning it to where he gripped your thigh. The hand that was slithered around your waist fell to your hip as he leaned back, letting you move to start rocking on him. There was no denying how he made you feel. You hadn’t been lying when you’d begged. The proof being in how perfectly he filled you and how you’d hardly moved at all yet you already felt your walls pulsating around him, begging for the feeling only he seemed to be able to give you. You never felt like this when you had sex with Woojin, or anyone else for that matter, and the admission of that frustrated you. What if staying with Woojin was the mistake and not this?
It’s only sex for right now, you reminded yourself, picking up the pace as though to prove it to yourself. Focusing on how Yoongi’s dick stroked your walls in an effort to will away your thoughts, it was almost as if the man below you knew your thoughts were straying. He bent his legs under you to prop his heels against the seat cushion before drilling upward to match your thrusts, effectively whisking away any thoughts that weren’t about him. Your mouth gaped and you tilted your head back, feeling the coil in your stomach getting ever tighter. Apparently, he felt it too, immediately wrenching you off him when it felt on the verge of snapping.
The groan of frustration you gurgled out was cut short by him muttering gruffly, “Stand up.”
Without protest, you shifted your shaking legs to stand. Yoongi moved to sit before you, his hands groped up the back of your thighs until they met your ass. Kneading your cheeks roughly, he tipped forward. Your hand curled in his hair when his tongue peeked out to glide over the skin of your lower stomach in a wet kiss, punctuated by his teeth nipping at your hip. Unceremoniously, he yanked your panties down before standing. Stepping out of the fabric, you flung them to the side with your toe as Yoongi’s mouth met yours, his hands gripping your hips. Your tongues danced as you felt Yoongi pivot the both of you so you now had your back to the couch. Pulling away from the kiss with a nibble at your lower lip, he turned you abruptly. The silken skin of his cock brushed against your ass, the leftovers of your sticky fluids transferring from him to you. Lips brushed against your ear as a hand traveled up your curves to rest against the top of your spine as he all but growled, “bend over.”
He hardly gave you the chance to obey, his palm pressing into your spine to tilt you forward. Bracing yourself by gripping the top of the couch with your elbows bent so your back was nearly level, the hand on your spine slithered to your head. Fingers gathered your hair in a fist and yanked it toward him like a leash, forcing your head to pull back, your spine to bend, and your ass to push into him with a hiss. At the sound of your pain, the hand loosened to your own dismay.
“Too much?” You immediately shook your head ‘no’. There was no doubting the pleased note in his voice as his grip tightened again to pull on the strands of your hair and he replied, “good girl.”
A foot nudged in between yours, edging your feet outward to spread your legs for him. Guiding himself to your entrance, he thrust himself inside you. His free hand gripped your hip, blunt nails digging into the skin as he pulled back and thrust himself back in with a resounding snap of his hips. The pace he set picked up right from where you’d left off instead of building up. Your shrill cry of pleasure echoed in the apartment, the new angle allowing him to hit deep with each push of his hips. The force of his movements jostled your body, the strength causing your breasts to sway underneath you. The feel of cotton brushed against your spine as Yoongi’s body curled over yours. His dick was filling you in the way you had only felt when you were with him, your brain reduced to mush as he pushed you more toward the couch with every thrust until your arms were bent and the only thing keeping your head from falling into the top of the couch was the grip on your hair. Your jaw hung open, moans and mewls escaping your lungs as you pushed backwards to match his rhythm. You were close, nearly letting out a sob when his pace slowed.
“Tell me,” his breath fanned against your ear, your mind swirling with pleasure. His words were slightly laboured, most of his effort going toward plowing you into the couch. “How many times have you thought of me when you were with him?”
“Before the party?” You replied, breathlessly. “Never.”
“And after?”
You didn’t have the capacity to feel embarrassed at the moment. “Every time.”
At your admission his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor and you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied at the fact that Min Yoongi was jealous. Pain tingled at your scalp as Yoongi pulled on your hair, forcing you to follow as he tilted up, causing your arms to straighten. Fingers trailed up your stomach, briefly pausing to palm your breast before travelling further upward until they reached your neck. Digits gripped your throat, his forearm finding its home in the valley of your breasts making you feel the way the muscles tensed when he tightened his grip to limit your breathing. A moan was caught by his hand, the sound coming out choked and gurgling. Yoongi pressed his forehead into your shoulder, a grunt pushing past his lips when your walls began to contract tellingly. With a few more thrusts, you came undone.
A moan rumbled against your back, your legs trembling as ecstasy crashed over your body, the pressure at your neck heightening it. Your vision became spotty as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your veins. Velvet walls spasmed around Yoongi, his hips stuttering at the sensation, though continuing to guide you through your orgasm. When a faint feeling began to fog your mind, you reached up to tap Yoongi’s hand. Immediately he released your neck and you gasped in a gulp of air, the sopping sounds of Yoongi pistoning into you rang in your ears as he desperately chased his own end. With a few more snaps of his hips and a harsh grope of your breast, Yoongi finished. A groan of pleasure hung in the air as he hastily pulled out, painting your back with ropes of white. He shifted a hand to stroke himself, riding out his high. A piece of you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he didn’t want to cum inside of you like last time. In the back of your mind, you had to wonder if this was him drawing a line and if it was for his sake or yours. As the last of his orgasm dribbled out, he released a breath of hot air that you felt faintly caress your shoulder before wrapping his free arm around your stomach. For a moment the both of you were silent, exhaustion making your chests heave while your bodies began to cool, his cum making goosebumps rise on your skin as it began to dry.
“Was that okay?” Yoongi asked suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was soft as he spoke, a stark contrast from earlier. “Not too rough?”
You brought one hand away from the couch to rub at the arm that encased you, “it was more than okay.”
His chest vibrated with a chuckle. “Good, you always were kinky but I thought I’d check.”
Changing your tune, you slapped his arm. “I’m kinky?! What does that make you?”
Yoongi struggled to keep the giggle from his voice when he pinched your side and quipped, “a willing and considerate partner.”
Feeling your legs beginning to shake, Yoongi sighed and pulled away from you, releasing your body from his hold as silence fell over the room once again. You did your best to stay upright, only faltering a little before your legs remembered that they were, in fact, not Jell-o. Your hands ached when you finally released the other from its hold on the back of the couch and stood up straight. You hoped that your vice grip hadn’t done any damage to the material. A shuffling of fabric could be heard behind you and you turned your head to peer at Yoongi as he walked across the living room to the washroom. Collecting your clothes off the floor, a twang of regret pulled at your heart that you hadn’t been able to see his body as you’d fucked. However, it was quickly snuffed out by surprise when you caught yourself thinking, there’s always next time. You mentally began to prepare yourself, remembering how sick you’d felt after you’d last had sex with Yoongi, and even Woojin for that matter. For over a month you’d felt disgusting after having sex and now, when by all means you should feel that way, you didn’t. Even with the thick rivulets of cum from someone who was most definitely not your boyfriend slowly dripping down your spine. But why?
Your contemplation was interrupted as Yoongi gently placed a hand on your shoulder, a slightly worried look on his face as he bit his lip and turned you to wipe his cum off of your back with a rag he had gotten. Scratching the back of his head, he nodded toward the other side of the living room.
“There’s a bathroom there if you want to get cleaned up. I have clothes you can wear…”
You knew what the unspoken question was in that statement and as much as you wanted nothing more than to accept his offer, you couldn’t. “I should probably go back home.”
He nodded, unsurprised by your answer. “Yeah, I guess he’ll be waiting for you, hey?”
           “Yeah.”
           He was silent and you felt a stab of self-consciousness now that the heat had been taken out of the room. Glaringly aware that you were standing naked in his apartment you held your jacket to your chest so it at least partially covered your body. “At least let me make you something to eat before you go. There wasn’t much left at Luna’s after the guys dug in.”
           Lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes you crushed to your chest, you shot him a soft smile. “I’d like that.”
Nodding, he turned and shuffled toward the kitchen as you made your way to his bathroom. Flicking on the light and closing the door, you quickly began to attempt to make yourself presentable. Sliding your skirt and bra on, you decided to forego the panties that you shoved into your jacket pocket. Your hair was the worst of it, thoroughly mussed from Yoongi’s hands. When you did your best to smooth it down, you couldn’t help but notice that the follicles felt sore, though you didn’t actually mind much. The reward of his roughness was most definitely worth the pain you felt between your legs and where his hands had handled you. Once you were satisfied with your appearance you exited the bathroom, a savory aroma wafting to your nose.
“Ramen?” You asked, coming to stand beside him at the stove.
A grin made his lips turn upward as he stirred the noodles in the pot, remarking, “only the best for my hook-ups.”
“Oh.” You deadpanned, a flare of jealousy licking at your insides. “So, I’m not the only one coming around then.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He chuckled. “Not that you really have a right to complain here.”
That made you frown guiltily. “I-I guess you’re right.”
Noticing your sullen expression, he started to backpedal, “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”
“No,” you shook your head before tilting it to lean on his shoulder to stop him from thinking he’d upset you. “I mean you really are right. I pretty much told you I’m not going to stop what I’m doing so it’s not fair for me to expect you to.”
He hummed, his features screwed up in thought. “Then, what happens now? I’d rather not wait another month before seeing you again.”
“Me either, honestly. We do whatever we both feel comfortable with, I suppose.”  You could feel the tension melt from Yoongi’s frame, though your own seemed to bask in it. Anxiety chewed at your soul, despite what you said, at the thought of this all blowing up in your face, but you still didn’t want to let this pass by. Deep down you knew that if you did, you would never stand a chance at ever letting Yoongi go with a million ‘what if’s’ taking residence in your head. Sensing your thoughts running rampant, a hand glided to rub at the small of your back as a sweet distraction. A small sigh left you as your head fell to his chest and his arm coaxed you to press your body into his. “Just like you said on the roof, I want to explore this.”
“Okay,” Yoongi agreed, nodding. “So, let’s say I asked if you’d kiss me right now. How comfortable are we feeling with that?”
An amused giggle escaped your lips, craning your neck to look up at him. “So comfortable that I just might say yes.”
Pushing yourself up onto your tippy toes, you slanted your mouth against his. The kiss was soft, lips welcoming one another as old friends and sending a warm feeling through your chest. Your fingers crawled up to rest your palm against his sternum as you pecked him for a second, third, and fourth time. Pressing circles into his chest with your thumb, you broke the kiss to brush your lips against his cheek before falling to the flats of your feet. Turning his attention back to cooking, he waited a few more moments before shutting off the burner.
“Go sit.” He said, jerking his head toward the breakfast bar at the kitchen island.
You nodded obediently, extracting yourself from his warmth to slide onto one of the barstools. Yoongi grabbed two bowls and filled them, rounding the island to place one in front of you before plopping down onto the stool beside you with his own. Motioning for you to dig in he watched as you blew on the scalding meal, biding his time until you’d shoveled in a couple mouthfuls before saying. “You are, by the way. The only one.”
You coughed on the hot soup, his laughter echoing in the room as he pat your back and your cheeks warmed. Swallowing the mouthful, you shot him a glare. “You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.” He admitted, a playful, content smile on his face which stayed there for the rest of the night.
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