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vukovich · 3 years

Note

peculiar prompts: fuck or die, but their dicks get bigger every second

A Mounting Problem

"Don't eat those." Ron came around the bend in the trail. Draco scoffed and picked several more scarlet berries, adding them to the pile in Harry's outstretched shirt.

"They're wild cherries," Harry said.

"This," Ron swept his arm out over the lush valley, "is an old wizarding land preserve." He pointed at the thorny bush. "And those are twiggenberries, not cherries."

Draco stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. "Are, too."

"What would you know about foraging, Malfoy? You hadn't eaten a meal outdoors until this week."

Draco scrunched his face up and mimicked Ron.

"Fine." Ron adjusted his pack and side-stepped around them. "Don't be late to the top of the rise. And don't eat those berries til you're back home. Alone."

"Yes, Father," Draco said snidely to Ron's retreating back.

Harry pretended to gag.

"Heard that!" Came Ron's voice.

Harry swatted a mosquito against the inside of the tent and shot Draco a triumphant grin, but Draco's attention was on the bag of berries in his lap.

"Ron said not to eat those here."

"Ron says a lot of things. I'm hungry." He crossed his outstretched legs over his sleeping bag and Harry wondered if he shouldn't hand-feed Draco.

"Someone failed to guard the camp from raccoons." Draco popped a big, glossy berry in his mouth. "And someone cost us what smelled like a wonderful crockpot of chili."

"I said I was hanging back to take a nap, and I did. I didn't know none of you latched the crockpot." Harry rolled onto his side and clicked a small lantern on. "Give me one."

Harry opened his mouth and flicked his gaze back and forth between the berries and Draco's eyes. Draco let him look like a confused fish for a few moments before selecting a berry.

They were large, for wild berries. Almost like small plums, but a bit more pointed at one end, and deep red. Draco traced it over Harry's bottom lip before shoving it in, and then followed with his fingers for good measure.

Harry grunted in surprise, but sucked Draco's fingers clean before biting into the berry. It popped open in a rush of cloyingly-sweet bubblegum, and broke against the roof of his mouth like an overripe grape. He grabbed a bottle of water from the foot of his sleeping back to dilute the overwhelming taste.

Draco smirked and shoved what had to be his fourth or fifth one into his mouth.

"You can have the rest," Harry said, capping his water and laying down.

He clicked off the light, and Draco sealed the bag and laid down next to him. Harry started drifting off almost immediately, but Draco tossed and turned.

Harry cracked an eye and was met with Draco's eyes glinting in the filtered moonlight. "Do you think they're awake?"

"Ron and Hermione?"

"No, the wampus cats. Of course Ron and Hermione."

"Probably not. I think they hiked twelve miles today. Why?"

Draco walked fingers over their sleeping bags toward Harry's chest, and then diverted southward.

"No reason..."

"They're heavy sleepers."

"Mm hm..."

Draco tugged at the drawstring on Harry's pajama bottoms. Harry bit back a smile and let him pick at the knot until Draco started muttering swear words under his breath.

Harry rolled on his back and unceremoniously shucked his pants and pajamas off, and threw his t-shirt on the pile at the foot of his sleeping bag.

He couldn't read Draco's expression, so he clicked the lantern back on. Wonderment. Draco was staring at Harry's dick in absolute wonderment. Harry was flattered, then aroused, but then mildly alarmed, because Draco just kept staring.

Harry glanced down and didn't see anything more interesting than his own erection, and still Draco watched it, and Harry watched him. But... why would he be hard already?

Harry wrapped a hand around his semi-hard dick, but his fingers only just met around it. That wasn't right.

Draco tilted his head to one side. "I think those were psychedelic berries."

"Oh, shit," Harry whispered. He worked his fist over the head of his cock, just in case this turned out to be a really good trip. "Oh... shiiiiit. How many did you eat?"

"Five?" Draco licked his lips. "Your dick looks bigger."

Harry stopped stroking. "I think it is bigger."

Harry's thumb and middle finger couldn't touch, and felt like they were actively being pushed way. The skin of his cock grew achingly tight and over-sensitive.

"Shit. What do we do?"

Draco scooted closer. "I can think of several things to do."

Panic rose a cold sweat over Harry's chest. "What should we do?"

"Again, I can think of-"

"RON!" Harry shouted.

A rustle in the other tent, followed by a groan, and "Wassit?"

Draco leaned down slowly, eyes on Harry, sneaking his mouth closer to Harry's dick and fooling no one.

"What do those berries do?" Harry shouted, then swallowed a whimper as Draco's lips spread over the head of his cock.

"The fuck you think a twiggenberry does?" Ron grumbled. An owl hooted nearby. "You didn't eat one, did you?"

"Uhm." Draco's tongue against the tight-stretched skin was already too much. "Yes."

"Guess it could be worse. You gotta get somebody to help you blow your load before your dick drains your blood supply." The owl hooted again, and it sounded rather concerned. "Doesn't work if you do it on your own."

Draco slurped enthusiastically and winked.

"Sounds like you've got it under control. And I've got ear plugs. Good thing you only ate one. G'night."

"Ron! RON!" Harry tugged Draco up by the hair. "Shit. Now what?"

Draco held Harry's gaze while he slid his tongue out and prodded Harry's dick with the tip. "Mm?"

Harry nodded and tried to relax as Draco's mouth enveloped him. He blew out a long breath and forced himself to not think about anything but the wet heat sliding over his cock. Not about dying with an enormous dick hanging out. Merlin help him if Dumbledore met him on a platform in this condition.

Draco shifted, snuck a hand in his own pajamas, and moaned around Harry's cock.

"Fuck," Harry whispered. Draco's shoulder shook as he stroked himself in time to his mouth on Harry. He moaned again, and tension build at the base of Harry's cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

Draco wrapped both hands around Harry's thick length, and the pressure in his hips broke, spilling into Draco's mouth. Harry's breath shuddered out as Draco slowed, swallowed, and grinned at him.

"I've got something for you." He rose up on his knees and Harry's dick gave a feeble throb at the size of the tent in Draco's pants. "Roll over, size queen."

It wasn't that Draco wasn't well-endowed. He was... fine. But Harry's tastes ran... larger. A lot larger. Like the bludger bat of a cock Draco was wrangling out of his shorts.

Draco reached into a bag, then tossed a tube of lube on Harry's pillow. That dick was so perfect Harry could have cried. And he did.

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Draco straddled Harry's thighs and plopped down, massive erection slapping against Harry's spent cock.

"Uhm... What's wrong?"

"I ate-" Harry sobbed. "-the chili."

"Okaayyyy..." Draco shook his head and waited for Harry to explain, but comprehension bloomed over Draco's face. "There were no raccoons?! Harry James Potter, you ate half a crockpot of chili and blamed raccoons?!"

Harry nodded and hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

"I HAD TO EAT BONER BERRIES FOR DINNER AND NOW YOUR VERY FUCKABLE ARSE IS FULL OF CHILI?!"

Harry nodded again. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I am not putting my dick in that."

"I'm really, really sorry."

"I'll bet you are." He felt Draco's breath against his ear. "Sorry you're not getting your greedy little hole stretched open by this."

Draco pressed his cock along Harry's abdomen for emphasis. He ran his chin down Harry's jawline and sighed. "Wanker."

Harry moved his arms, sniffled, and snuck a kiss on Draco's nose before he sat back up. "I guess wanking, it is. I don't think I can fit it in my mouth."

Draco walked his knees up to Harry's waist and sat on his flaccid dick. Hard.

"I always had a theory that Parseltongues could unhinge their jaws like snakes."

Harry only half-heard Draco, because the dick sitting on his chest was fucking amazing. It was still Draco's, but huge. He would have gladly impaled himself on this beast of a dong, but no. The chili had smelled too damn good.

Draco flipped the cap on the lube open and emptied it out on what was rapidly becoming a third leg. Harry wrapped both hands around it, and the overlap of his fingers shrank as he watched.

He stroked, slow and steady, trying to keep a familiar routine in a very new situation. Draco's head lolled to the side, and his lips pressed against his own shoulder. Harry smiled softly and tightened his grip. Even full of dick-enhancing berries, Draco couldn't come without his lips against bare skin, even if it was his own.

Draco tilted forward, but caught himself. He wavered above Harry.

"I'm dizzy."

Harry looked up and met glassy, vacant eyes. His fingers barely met around the dick in his hands.

"Oh, shit." His mind raced. "Lay down. Lay down on me right now."

Draco fell forward, chest on Harry's face. Harry grabbed Draco's hips and pushed him down until their lips met. "Shit. Draco, stay awake."

Draco hummed against Harry's lips, and Harry stroked dick like Draco's life depended on it. Up and over the swelling head, thumbs working the underside of Draco's cock until Draco's back stiffened.

Cool lips found Harry's, and Draco whimpered, hitched, and the dick in Harry's hands throbbed. Hot rivulets flowed through his fingers, and he absently thought a cock that big should put out a whole lot more come than this.

Draco sighed into Harry's neck. "That was good."

Harry slid his hands out from between them and wiped them on Draco's arse. "That was close, is what that was."

"Mm hm."

"Are you just going to fall asleep on top of me?"

"Mm hm."

Harry woke at dawn to a startled owl hoot, a scuffle outside his tent, and then the walls of the tent shaking violently. He popped up on his knees to look through the mesh window.

The sun was just peeking over the treetops, and Hermione stood outside, hands on their tent, hair in a tight braid, dressed for a hike already.

"Get up, losers! We're going berry-picking!"

#peculiar prompts #drarry #drarry smut #drarry crack #fuck or die #size kink #hbd fwoosharoo

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia for hyping me up to post it in the first place. thank u to @shadowsremedy for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

“Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud.

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”.

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour.

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face.

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor.

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?”

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite.

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously.

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.”

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises.

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log.

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!” He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious.

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest.

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike.

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with.

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence.

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid.

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it.

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt.

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart.

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound.

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.”

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack.

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched.

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin.

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles.

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment.

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible.

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter. He nodded in agreement.

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant.

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it.

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life. Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you. The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest.

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own. Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy.

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked.

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”

Your cheeks flushed.

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?”

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect.

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed. “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh.

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head. “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man. Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence.

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood. You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.

“What the fuck am I going to do?!”

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out. But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.”

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’. And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully.

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too.

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”

He wrinkled his forehead.

“You sure?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you.

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order. Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly.

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth.

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold.

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered.

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply.

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips.

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

at the column of your throat.

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts.

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him.

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma.

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you.

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.”

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone.

You shook your head.

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you.

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover.

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips.

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.”

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears. You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it.

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls. You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you. Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence. He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?”

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away.

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips. The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt. His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss. “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement. He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain. After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips. He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat. He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound. Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter. He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees. Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought. Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions. Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside. You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace. He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock. Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush. Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end.

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight. It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock. With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel. Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside.

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls. He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees. He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

#bts smut #kim seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #ficswithluv #kim seokjin smut #jin smut #bts fan fic #bts imagines #bts fic #bangtanarmynet

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bakubitch-minusultra · 3 years

Text

Not Alone: Chapter Eleven

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P new character unlocked

-> Word Count: 2.1k

-> Warnings: none(?)

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

The sun set as they reached the top of a hill she never climbed. It was in the opposite mountain range from where she had been and she was nervous of it. She didn’t know what lied on the other side. Her feet hurt and she was tired.

He layed a bunch of bows on the ground and gave Y/n a very appealing look. It made her stomach hurt.

She walked to where he had chosen to sleep and smiled at it. There were branches on the ground which made a mat for sleeping. He had chosen a huge tree with great bows to protect them in case it rained. He was like her father, more than she expected him to be. Not that she ever expected to meet him.

“They think you’re dead.”

He put the last bow down and sat on it. He took the jacket he had brought with him and put it down, patting it for Y/n to sit beside him. Her steps hurt her feet now that they had stopped walking. She dropped onto the ground beside him and watched his eyes sparkle as darkness took over the night sky. She tucked her bow and quiver next to her, always close.

“I was taken to the work farms. We were hiding in this old house like your farmhouse. I wasn’t smart like you though. I never thought about bunkers or having a few different houses and traveling between them. I was an idiot. Anyway they came. I hid Mina and Kirishima and let them take me.”

His face was stoic. She wanted him to kiss her again. She started to wonder if he was going to.

“How did you get away from the farms?”

“I met some people while I was there. Doctors who were forced to work the breeder camps and other scientists. They convinced me I needed to start a revolution from the outside. I escaped with some of him.” He shook his head, as if his thoughts entertained him and brushed his hand through his hair again. He looked at Y/n and smiled, “You know a good spot to clean up around here?”

She shook her head, “Never been here before. You’re starting a revolution?”

He nodded, “The camp we were just at is one of our peace camps. It’s like a retreat. The children and young and old stay there. We have people coming and going constantly. Didn’t you notice how easily you were welcomed?”

“I guess. I just thought that’s what people were like when they live in a camp like that. Aside from the machine gun escort that is.”

He laughed again. She liked the sound of it but it reminded her of Kirishima.

“Well that was a big wolf Y/n. How’d you end up with him?”

“His mother gave birth and must’ve gotten sick shortly after. Hades was waiting for me at the door of the cabin one day. He was tiny then. I could hear his brothers and sisters in the woods. I found the mother dead and half eaten surrounded by the other cubs who were weak and sick. It was awful. I shot them and burned them. It’s the closest the infection ever got to my cabin. He was immune anyway so that’s helpful.”

“He’s immune? Naturally? Maybe he never ate any of the mom.”

Y/n shook her head, “Nah, she wasn’t the only sick thing Hades has eaten. He likes the infected.”

He grimaced, “That’s disgusting. Disgusting and lucky all at the same time.”

“It is.”

“What do you know about the start of the infection?”

Y/n shrugged, “People got sick and some died but others lived and went a little crazy.”

His eyes looked dark as his expression lost its humor and the sun set completely. “No Y/n, people didn’t just get sick. The infection was spread on purpose. Everything that’s happened has been a plan all along.”

“That can’t be true.”

“I wish it weren’t. There was something called the United Nations. They did all of this.”

Y/n felt sick, “They were evil?”

“Not evil, just detached. The world was running out of resources and everyone was constantly putting a hand out to them and asking for aid and food and money. The UN had been warning us forever about global warming and the ice melting and the ocean becoming acidic. Anyway in 2012 all of Greenland's ice and snow melted in a week. The earth started to enter a drought. We thought it was a cyclical event but it wasn’t. It was man made. We had pushed it too far. The same time all this was happening, a conference was held in Rio about the environment. Canada, the US and China pretty much pulled out and admitted they had no intention of slowing their pollution to the recommended level. It would be too hard on their economies. That was the final straw. Apparently the UN had a backup plan for a worst-case scenario such as that. They had a plague. It had a vaccine, which made it easy to spread and then control. The problem was it mutated. They spread the virus at the same time they had bombs placed deep in the ocean along the Japanese coastline. They bombed the shelf and pretty much wiped Japan off the face of the earth and made the west coast of North America a target for huge tidal waves.”

It felt like a movie to Y/n. It didn’t feel real. It felt like the ramblings of her father, before.

“How could you know all this?”

“The work farms. I met people who had been part of the initial plan. The plan was to reset everything. Instead the UN decided they wanted to start humanity over but set it up to succeed this time. The breeder farms were built where only the fit and healthy were allowed to reproduce."

She shivered just imagining it.

Bakugo laughed, “It isn’t what you think. I know what everyone thinks happens but it’s not. The girls only breed every three years and only up to three times. The pregnancy isn’t the result of rape, it’s done using science. The baby is made in a lab and then inserted into the woman’s womb.” Y/n gagged and Bakugo laughed. “The religious had the same reaction. The UN never mentioned this plan to anyone but the very high ups. It never went well.”

“The girls are still taken against their will and made to make babies against their will.”

She saw his head nod in the dark, “Yup and the babies are not God’s children to the Christians. Anyway the UN runs the military but again, they sit in their closed office and plan using numbers and facts and data. They don’t leave it to see what the world looks like or how corrupt the military is. They’ve built six cities world wide from the ashes and rubble of previous cities. They plan on cleaning every inch of the world.

Y/n’s head was spinning, “What about the borderlands?”

“They can’t use anymore bombs without affecting the weather and pollution again, so the plan stands at leaving us to our own devices until they have this part of the world cleaned up. Then they’ll come round us up.”

“Why?”

“They want the diseases and illnesses bred out. They won’t allow those people to live and breed.”

“Oh my god it’s like a nightmare.”

“It is. On that note, we need sleep. You sleep first and I’ll keep watch.”

“That’s some bedtime story.” She liked Kirishima’s better. He laughed and Y/n watched his silhouette in the dark for a moment. He didn’t lean in to kiss her. He was watching the hill they climbed. “How long have they been breeding science babies?”

His outline turned to her and she saw the shine of his eyes in the dark,”A long time.”

“Are the babies different than the rest of us?”

“Yeah.”

The broken branches led them to a camp in a valley on the opposite side of the mountain where her farmhouse sat. The size of the camp was disturbing. Bakugo smiled as he saw it and walked directly up to the man holding the gun amid the trees.

“Halt.”

“Oi dunce face!” Bakugo shouted.

The gunman smiled, “No shit, Bakugo you’re alive. I heard they caught you.”

Bakugo laughed, “They think they did. Is Monoma still in charge?”

The man Bakugo called dunce face pointed to the camp, “He’s still in the smallest tent, you know what he’s like. Still paranoid they’ll bomb us.”

Bakugo laughed and pointed towards Y/n, “This is my friend Y/n.” She felt hurt when he called her his friend. She didn’t know why but the word stung.

“I’m Denki,” He put a hand out and Y/n noticed he had a nice smile. She met his golden eyes and smiled back, “Nice to meet you.” His eyes flickered to Bakugo and an even bigger smile crossed his lips, “So where’d ya two meet?”

She looked at Bakugo.

“She walked up to the mountain retreat the other day with a huge wolf for a pet and an unruly teenager.”

Denki’s eyes grew wide, “You have a wolf?”

She nodded. She wanted to find Mina and Kirishima. She didn’t understand why Bakugo wasn’t busting inside to see them. She felt herself fidget in place,

“Well I’m gonna go see Monoma and see what’s new on this side of the hill.”

They walked toward the camp as the sound of birds squawking filled the forest. The gunmen lower their weapons as they hear the sound and they walk past them. The camp opened as the forest spread thin. It looked like the camp they were at before except that everyone was wearing a firearm or knife. At one point Y/n swore she saw a sword. There were no children here.

“Bakguo! You’re alive!”

A girl with long blonde hair and cut off shorts ran and jumped into his arms. Y/n’s heart stopped as she watched the girl kiss his lips. The lips that only just kissed Y/n the day before. She felt heat radiating from her cheeks. She heard about men who weren’t tied down in romance novels and felt sick thinking that she had fallen for one. All the years of reading the novels and judging the ladies who seemed strong and smart and then fell for a jerk. Reality hurts. She wanted Kirishima and Mina and her cabin and Hades and Jirou. She wanted to let the world kill itself and hide up in the mountains. She never wanted to kiss Bakugo again. She couldn’t believe she was so reckless.

“Camie what the hell. You know me better than that,” He twirled her around and looked sheepishly at Y/n, “This is Y/n.” Y.n nodded and gripped her bow.

Camie beamed at her, “Wow nice find Bakugo, He save you from the farms too?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a hero.”

Camie looked at Bakugo, who was staring at Y/n. Y/n walked past him and started to look around. If he didn’t want to find his friends then that’s his problem. Y/n would be damned if she would let them live another moment without the knowledge that their asshole of a friend was alive and well.

“You pissed at me?” Y/n didn’t turn and continued along, eyes desperately searching the crowds of people.

“Bakugo.” He shook hands with a very tanned man with the whitest smile Y/n had ever seen. People continued to greet him, but she couldn’t hear them anymore. She saw what she was looking for. She saw a tall guy limping with shaggy red hair. She broke into a run and dived into his arms when she was close enough to him.

As she made contact he turned. His face was exactly as she remembered it. He had her in his arms before she could speak a word.

“Y/n oh my god. Y/n it’s you. Holy shit I thought they got you.” He was planting kisses everywhere across her face.

“Where’s Mina?”

Kirishima’s kisses stopped but his grip on her face was still strong, “They took her.” Y/n felt her heart drop and wanted to collapse into his arms and sub.

“Shitty hair.”

Kirishima dropped to his knees in front of Y/n. His hands left her face and fell onto the tops of his knees.

“Bakugo? Bakugo is that you?”

Bakugo rushed at him and lifted him up. He pulled him into his embrace. The friend’s hug was fierce but all she heard was the sentence ‘they took her’ repeating in her mind.

Kirishima looked back at her, “You found him?”

Y/n shook his head, she had no words. They hug and cry and laugh but she was stunned. Finally able to speak, she muttered, “Where’d they take her?”

Their reunion no longer meant anything to Y/n.

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

Letters From War (Ron Speirs x reader)

Here is Part 3 of my Eye Candy series! Yes, Eye Candy was supposed to be a one-shot but I’m having too much fun with their dynamics.

And because sometimes you just need some soft!Speirs in your life.

Warnings: Speirs being a secret softy and some jealousy, a couple swear words

Words: 3500

Eye Candy series masterlist

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @sydney-m and @softspeirs (because I mentioned this earlier to you)

Sunlight filtered through the lacy curtains, casting the hotel room in a soft glow. A subtle ticking of the clock was the loudest sound in the room. Laying there in the silky sheets felt divine. No one was screaming orders outside of the barracks as they ran their platoon. One of my fellow nurses was not shuffling around inside trying to be quiet but failing as they slammed their stuff on a cot or on the hard floor. No, it was blissfully quiet. Something I had not realized how much I missed until I started my training at Camp Toccoa and was constantly surrounded by others.

I rolled over onto my side, eyes bleary from having just woken up. Peeking at the clock on the far wall, I could see the little hand pointing at the eleven. Not what I was hoping to see. My weekend pass meant I did not have to be back to base until this evening but if I did not get up now, I might go AWOL just to lounge around in these sheets with the sunlight warming me.

I groaned quietly as I sat up, the soft sheets sliding down my naked body. There was a freeing feeling with sleeping naked. Not that I did it often. Or ever. But the few times I had...I could see the appeal of it being a regular occurrence. Especially with these sheets. Were they made from cherub’s wings? Nothing could be as soft and silky as these sheets. I promised myself after the war, if I made it, I would buy myself a set. Something to look forward to.

As quietly as I could, I slid my legs over the side of the bed, ready to stand up when a deep, gravelly voice stilled my movements.

"Where you think you're goin'?"

I smiled at how perturbed he sounded. Glancing over my shoulder, he still lay on his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow, face buried in it. It was amazing he did not accidentally suffocate himself. "Ron, it's eleven already."

He grumbled, words muffled by the pillow. "So?"

"We need to get up soon."

"You said that two hours ago when we woke up."

"And yet, we're still in bed."

"Mmm…" He tipped his head to the side so one of his half-lidded eyes could glare at me. "I don't see the problem."

"Well some of us can't be lazy like...Ahhh!!" I squealed when an arm snaked around my waist and pulled me back, moving far too fast for someone who just supposedly woke up. Abruptly, I found myself with my head back on the pillow and a broody Lieutenant hovering over me. His bare chest was only inches above mine; and although I could not see it, I could feel that he had not put his Army issued skivvy back on. Just that realization alone bloomed a warmth in my belly.

"You were saying?" He said with a smug look.

"We need to get up."

"Mmm…" He slowly inched his head down, meeting my eyes until his lips trailed down my neck, leaving butterfly kisses.

Without a conscious thought, I tilted my neck to the side, giving him better access. My arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, loving being under his touch. A small part of my brain berated me for not getting up while I still could. There were things I had planned on doing with my day. But an open mouth kiss on my collarbone caused a moan to fall from my lips and all thoughts of escaping his hold to fly away.

"You were saying?" He repeated.

Through the slowly growing, lust-fuel haze in my mind, I tried to remember why it was so important to leave the bed. "Was I?"

He chuckled, the feeling of it reverberating in my chest. With a quick peck to my lips, he laid his head on my chest, half his body weight on me and an arm wrapped around my waist possessively. I started carding my fingers through his hair, humming softly as we lay there together. The sheets were rumpled around his waist, the only thing keeping me warm was his body. A peacefulness descended. Something very rare in preparation for war. It only encouraged neither one of us to leave the bed, else that peace vanish and reality sink back in. We laid there silently for some time, the only sounds being our breathing and the ticking of the clock.

My thoughts swirled in my mind about the coming weeks. So many unknowns lay before us, like a minefield that we had to walk through. We just had to keep moving forward.

"We leave on the train tomorrow." I stated, staring up at the ceiling. My fingers continued carding through his hair. I would never tell a soul but I knew the feeling immediately relaxed him. Whenever I started doing it, he would practically go limp on me and lay there like a cat sunbathing.

"Mmm."

"Do you know where we are going?"

"Yes."

I swatted him lightly on the shoulder. Of course, he knew. He had the uncanny ability to always be where information was being shared, even if it was not directly relevant to him. It would not surprise me if he snuck into the intelligence officers' offices at night and peeked through their papers. Though I would never tell him that. Plausible deniability is a glorious thing.

When he refused to answer, I swatted him again. Immediately, he growled and nipped at the valley between my breasts, making me squeak. Before I could incite or escape his further wrath, he settled himself back on top of me. When I made no further move, he roughly grabbed my hand and placed it back on the top of his head. I smirked up at the ceiling, and followed his silent order. Perhaps in a past life he had been a cat. It would explain some of the moodiness.

"Tell me." My fingers slipped through his hair, occasionally scraping his scalp, making him hum. "Please."

"I overheard Nixon talking to Sink." He tilted his head to look at me, those dark, piercing eyes meeting mine. "New York."

I connected the dots in my head. "Europe?"

He made no reply as he continued to stare at me, rubbing his thumb along my ribs.

"Can I write to you?"

I felt him stiffen slightly. We had never defined what was between us. Obviously there was attraction and passion, the bruises on my hips and the half-moon indents on his back attested to that. Yet there was also a peaceful companionship I think neither of us expected. He would listen to me ramble about things we learned in class and different techniques to use in the field or the silly things my friends and I had done. On the rare occasion he would vent about one of his men and their stupidity. But I knew he was trying not to make attachments. There was a solid steel wall around his heart he had raised as soon as he stepped foot in Camp Toccoa. He knew his superiors would die. His men would die. He could possibly die. It would be easier to not know their hopes and dreams, their stories and fears. There was one thing we both knew but never acknowledged.

Somehow, I was the exception to his rule.

As we laid there, I tried not to let his silence bother me. I knew it was a long shot to even ask him. I would not be entirely surprised if he said no. We were not even sure that our paths would cross again. I was to be stationed as a nurse for the paratroopers but it had not been finalized for which battalion.

Finally he spoke, looking just over my head the whole time he had been thinking. "Let me think about it."

"Um, ok… well if I meet some other fella who sweeps me off my feet and writes…"

He leaned up and kissed me soundly, interrupting my potential future plan.

"You can't just kiss me to keep me from talking. That's rude." I huffed when he finally allowed me to breathe again.

"No." He stated flatly.

"No? You don't want me writing to someone else, no? I've already had a few soldiers ask if they could write to me."

"No."

"Ron, that's not how this works. If you don't want me writing to you, that tells me you're done with me. I don't do one-night stands."

He quirked an eyebrow, stupid smirk on those kissable lips.

I blushed, swatting him again. "You know what I mean." This was not our first rendezvous together where we snuck away from others while on a weekend pass.

He sighed, dropping his head back on my chest. "And if something happens to me."

"Then I'll mourn but I'll keep doing my job. Who knows? I might even miss you."

He chuckled then lay quietly. I thought he had fallen asleep until he spoke up, so softly I almost did not catch it. "No one was supposed to miss me."

"Mmm," I hummed, tracing the muscles on his back with my finger. In a spur of the moment decision, I decided to be honest, my whisper hanging in the air above us. "Too late...I don't think I can help it now."

We lay there contently for a time, just basking in our own thoughts, the warmth of the morning sun and each other's body.

"Ron, we really need to get up…. stop ignoring me."

He grumbled then suddenly rolled fully on top of me, pressing open-mouth kisses on my neck and chest. "One more."

"How do you have the energy for one more? Christ! Is it possible to die from so many orgasms?"

He froze, slowly his eyes met mine. I knew that look.

"No...no, Ron, NO! That wasn't a challenge...please, oh, shit!"

As I tried to wiggle away from him, he pinned my hips down with his arm and with that dark, seductive look which sent my heart racing, he lowered his face to where I could feel myself throbbing for him.

Needless to say, we did not leave that bed until the afternoon.

*****

The train car rattled along the track, the forests and open fields of the East Coast passed by in a blur. Honestly, at this point I had no idea what state we were even in. Somewhere on our way to New York. Then troopship. Then England.

Soon war.

It was a weird feeling. We had been training and preparing for it. Gathering all the knowledge we could and practicing saving lives until our backs cramped from being bent over pretend bodies and our fingers almost bled from the constant chafing of bandages, syringes and textbooks against them. Yet now on the cusp of war, I felt wholly unprepared.

Pushing the thought away, I rubbed my tired eyes. I picked up my pencil, continuing to try and write a letter to my folks back home before one of the girls found me. I had been sitting in a train car with Lucy, Mary and Rebecca. After a while of listening to them gossip and talk amongst themselves and with the other nurses nearby, I decided to step away. I claimed I needed the quiet to write my letter. Truthfully, I just needed some quiet. I loved those ladies but Christ could they be LOUD.

Staring at the paper in my lap, words seemed to fail. How do I tell my family about everything I was preparing for? All my fears? All my hopes? All my worries? Do I lie and pretend everything is alright?

"Keep it simple." I muttered. With a sharp inhale, my pencil met the paper.

Dear Dad and Mom,

I hope everyone is doing well. I miss everyone. Sometimes I find myself thinking about home and wonder how soon it'll be till I see it. And you guys, of course.

My friends are doing well. Mary has been showing off a picture of her newest nephew to all the nurses. I don’t know how I would have survived all this training without them. They help keep my spirits up during this time. And do not worry, dad, no one has proposed yet. Well, this week at least. There will be no ring on my finger until the war is over.

Just last week we were learning about different types--

"This spot taken?" A rough, rasping voice asked, disturbing my concentration.

I looked up to see a paratrooper standing at the end of my bench seat. I was surprised but wondered if maybe he just needed a space away from his buddies. Most of the other benches and seats were filled up with paratroopers in this train car, a good amount of them sleeping, writing their own letters or gambling. The few voices eased into the background as I sat there, making me momentarily forget I was not actually alone.

"No, it's open." I slid further down, closer to the window. Across from me was a different paratrooper I thought I recognized from Fox Company. He had been in a deep sleep even before I sat across from him, if the small puddle of drool and soft snores said anything.

"Thank you, ma'am. It's damn near impossible to find a quiet spot on this train." He dropped down onto the bench, removing his garrison cap.

I hummed, returning my eyes to the letter. Maybe I should not mention the proposals, even if they were all in jest. Though thinking about them brought up images of a pair of intense, dark eyes and strong hands that had come to know my body almost as well as I did. A blush warmed my cheeks at the thought.

It had been several weeks since we first began seeing each other. In public, we continued in our separate roles. Ron was not one for public affection, even if he always glared a hole in the head of any man he caught talking with me. I had heard through the rumor mill that word spread- I was Speirs' girl, even if no one ever saw us interact in that way. If Speirs purposefully started the rumor or my friends did after seeing the hickeys he left on my neck the first time... either way, the flirting and catcalls involving me dropped to a minimum.

In private, when we could sneak away or secretly meet up...he had no problem showering physical affection on me until I was seeing stars and melted into a puddle in his arms.

I wondered where he was on the train. Before I got on, I caught a glimpse of him directing some of his men on the platform. There were so many unknowns for us. My own feelings for him had grown like weeds since he kissed me. Part of me knew it was trouble. We were heading into war where nothing was certain. Yet the other part of me craved him. He was like no man I had ever known before. With one glimpse of him, my heart practically beat out of my chest. In his arms was quickly becoming my favorite place to be. I loved how there was never a need to fill the silence while with him.

Was this love?

I shot that thought down before it could plant anywhere. Last time I talked to Ron, he never confirmed if I could even write to him. I knew being with me was not easy for him. Although he never explicitly said it, I wondered if he thought he was going to die during the war.

That rasping voice interrupted me once again. "I'm John Billings, Private first class, Baker Company."

"Nurse Y/L/N." I nodded, glancing at him. Short, cropped blond hair, vibrant blue eyes, dimple on one cheek and broad shoulders. If he was inclined, he looked like he could bench-press me. He was attractive...but I was not interested.

"Ah, come on, you not gonna tell me your first name?"

I shrugged, still keeping my gaze on my letter, hoping he would take the hint.

Apparently not.

"Any guesses on where we're heading? One of my buddies thinks Africa. I think we're headed to Italy or something like that. Either way, Nazis are gonna regret starting this thing when we come in and fucking finish it." He laughed. When I did not respond, he slid a little closer, legs spread wide like he owned the bench seat. "Where you from? You sound kinda like my ma."

"I don't think that's your business."

"Hey, doll, no reason to get upset. I'm just making small talk."

"Well, I'm trying to write a letter."

"Alright, I get it. I'll leave ya alone." He laid his arms on the back of the bench, on either side of him, staring towards the front of the train car. His hand lay right behind my shoulders, almost touching them.

I rolled my eyes.

Several more minutes went by and finally I finished my letter. Well, at least I could not think of anything else to write home about. I folded it up, stashing it and my pencil back into my satchel to mail once we reached New York. My last letter written in America. That thought scared me more than I cared to admit.

"Letter to a sweetheart?"

"No," I replied. "Letter home."

He nodded. "I need to do that myself or my ma will find me no matter where we are and spank me with her wooden spoon."

I could not help the giggle that bubble up at the image evoked. "That sounds like my grandmother. I swear even the devil is terrified of her."

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back, eyes crinkling.

We both stilled when our sleeping companion shifted in his seat, running a hand over his face. Just as soon as he began moving, he stopped once again, snores filling the air.

I looked back out the window, watching the countryside pass. How soon would it be before I saw America again after I left? Would I ever? How much longer could this war drag on for? How different would I be when I returned home? Would my family even recognize me?

"So, you gonna tell me your name yet, beautiful?" My other companion teased, sliding slightly closer.

Before I could open my mouth, a deep, husky voice spoke, sending shivers down my spine. "That's Nurse to you, Private."

I looked over to see Ron standing in the walkway, arms crossed. His signature glare aimed at the paratrooper next to me. Death in his eyes.

My companion froze under the intense look, like prey just waiting for the predator's jaws to rip them apart. "Yes...ah, yes, sir."

"I suggest you find yourself another seat."

The Private scrambled out of his seat without a backward glance at me, mumbling something at Ron before briskly walking away and finding a seat further up the train car.

"Awww…. I think you scared him away."

Ron stared at me for a moment before glancing around and settling into the seat just vacated. "Why aren't you with the other nurses?"

"Just needed some quiet for a minute so I could write a letter home."

He raised an eyebrow. That man could carry entire conversations with just his facial expressions.

"The Private came after I was already sitting." I explained, knowing that was what he wanted to know.

He seemed to think it over before taking my hand in his. Something he had never done in public before. A small smirk teased his lips as he entwined our fingers. "Did you write home about me?"

"No. Should I have?"

He sat there quietly, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand.

"I thought about it." I admitted, looking at our hands. Though I could feel the heavy weight of his gaze on my face, I did not meet it. "But… I did not want… they would think then…"

"I want you to write me."

My head shot up, eyes wide and lips parted. "Really? Are you sure?"

He mock-glared at me.

"Will you write me back?"

To my endless surprise, he leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, leaving me speechless. "I'll think about it." He winked before getting up and smoothing back out his impeccable Class A uniform. "I'll find you when we arrive."

"Ok." I answered meekly, my brain trying to understand what just happened.

With one more longing look, he nodded and started back down the train car, disappearing just as quickly as he appeared.

He wanted me to write him...and he would write back!

And he kissed me.

In public!

To anyone else it may seem insignificant but for me...this was monumental. He was claiming me as his girl. Not just rumors anymore. It was ridiculous how my heart swelled at the thought.

A softly spoken "damn" made my head whip round to see the Private who had been sleeping now staring at me with eyes as big as saucers and mouth hanging open slightly.

"Damn." I echoed back, touching my lips, still in shock.

I was such a goner for him. Though, I could not find it anywhere in myself to be upset about that.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #fluff #soft!speirs

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alwaysbeliev · 3 years

Text

Stay the Way We Are

Arthur Morgan x Reader

word count: 2,163

summary: It’s been a rough few weeks between Blackwater and arriving at Horseshoe Overlook. You're not sure, but you think a certain cowboy might be realizing what he has to lose, and he doesn't want to lose it.

notes: i haven’t written any reader insert material in a really long time, but i’m playing rdr2 again, and i just wanted something warm and comforting. i hope you like this

~ ~ ~

Horseshoe Overlook was beautiful in the setting sun. The way the sun tinged the clouds pink, the fading bright orange of the top of the mountains, the valley stretching below. You stood on the edge of the rocky precipice, hugging your shawl close to your shoulders in the disappearing light and heat of the day. With the wind against your face, you could almost pretend there was nothing else going on in the world. No Pinktertons, no O’Driscolls, it was almost like you were just camping.

A raucous laugh from behind you startled you. Resurfacing from your daydream, you blinked as the last rays of sunlight fell behind the distant Grizzlies. Another day, another sunset, another night you would live to rest again. Your muscles relaxed and you felt a small smile grace your lips. This was allowed tonight.

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from the darkening view to see your fellow gang members gathering around the campfire. Sean had cracked open a new case of whiskey and was passing a couple bottles out as Javier helped him pour the drinks. Karen was already a full glass in, her cheeks turning red and making your smile spread further. Everyone’s faces were aglow in the strong firelight, all their scars almost invisible in the intense flame. Some sat on the logs, others on the still warm ground, and the stragglers standing behind.

You readjusted your shawl as you made your way over. Mary Beth welcomed you in next to her. Uncle was spouting some fantastical tale about his pre-lumbago days, days you had never seen in your lifetime, and you chuckled at his drama. It took you a moment to realize you were standing beside Arthur. You felt heat rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the flames that were 5 feet away from you still.

In the days since Blackwater, you and Arthur had grown closer. You were almost sure something had been there before, but after everything went down and the gang fled, you had noticed him giving you special attention. Through the mountains, he had kept by your side. When you were tired of riding in the wagon, he sat you on his horse, wrapped carefully and firmly in his arms as he guided his horse through the deep snow. He always gave you an extra bread crust, an extra scoop of stew when it was available, a spare blanket, his jacket on one particularly bitter night. You didn’t really want to give it much thought, you had dealt with too much heartbreak already, but part of you wanted to believe that whatever had happened on the ferry made him realize he didn’t want to lose what was in front of him. You still didn’t know the details of that fiasco, but whatever happened had scared the shit out of Arthur, and you weren’t going to press him.

“You going soft, Morgan?” you had teased shortly after the arrival at Horseshoe. It seemed to strike a nerve with the outlaw.

“Jus’ doin’ my part,” he had managed to mumble. He finished rather quickly after that and brushed his hands off before striding away faster than was normal.

The whiskey had made its way around to you. You took it from Mary Beth, taking a long drink that burned down your throat and made you shudder violently.

“Christ,” you breathed, turning to Arthur with the bottle.

“What’s the matter?” he chuckled, taking it from you gingerly. “Is it really that bad?”

You only shook your head, willing the lingering sting to leave your mouth. Truthfully, you hadn’t had anything to drink since before Blackwater. It didn’t warm you like it did the others, and with things the way they were, you wanted your senses about you in the case things went further south. The long pull you had taken was just too much.

“‘M fine,” you managed. With a small shake of his head, Arthur took his own drink before passing it on. Your heart skipped a beat when you watched him swallow. Oh, it’s bad....

Another round of laughter drew you out of your head again.

“You’re full of it,” the man beside you called over. Uncle was insisting he’d told the truth on the opposite side of the circle to uproarious laughter and head shaking. Bill thumped him on the back, calling him an old fool. It was endearing, though, the way the others still encouraged Uncle.

As the laughter died down, the familiar sound of Dutch’s phonograph began to play. Its comforting tone filled the campsite as the crowd began to separate into smaller groups, a few folks heading to their tents to prepare for bed. Abigail led Jack away as the boy asked to stay up with the adults, eyes desperately trying to catch John’s. Karen found her way to Sean’s lap. The Irishman generously wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling. A bottle had found its way back to you. While the chatter began to die, you took another drink, tipping the bottle gently this time and taking a smaller sip.

“Here.”

Arthur took the bottle from you, taking another drink of his own before handing it back. You smiled and thanked him, but merely held the bottle for now. He was flushed, you thought. It was difficult to tell. Between the glow of the fire and the drink, it might be wishful thinking. It was several moments before you realized you were still staring. You quickly turned away as you felt the heat rising in your own cheeks.

Motion in your peripheral had you relieved for the distraction. There, by Dutch’s tent, van der Linde himself had pulled Molly to her feet. They were slow dancing to the music, lost in their own little world, Molly’s hair almost like fire itself in the lantern glow. You watched them, tuning out the conversation around you. It was nice to see them like this. Every now and then, you caught the two of them in a moment made you wonder why they ever fought in the first place. It was clear Molly loved Dutch, and while he was proud and would never admit to anything so soft out loud, you knew he loved her, too.

A soft hand on your shoulder dragged you back to reality again. Arthur was looking at you, amused concern etched in his brow.

“Y’okay?” he asked. Something told you he had already tried getting your attention.

“Ah, yeah,” you said, allowing yourself a slightly embarrassed smile. “It’s just nice to see them not fighting for once.” Arthur followed your gaze before answering.

“They don’t mean nothin’ by it.” Was he trying to reassure you?

“Still. Must be nice to have someone to fight with. Makes you appreciate these moments more.”

There was a long silence as the pair of you watched the couple. Dutch’s hand had found the small of Molly’s back and drawn her in tight, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. They weren’t stepping side to side anymore, only swaying off beat. You could almost feel yourself in that moment. It had been so long since you had danced at all, and never like that. There really wasn’t time for it the way you lived now.

“Join me?”

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from the peacefulness to find Arthur, facing you, hand extended. Sheepishly, you realized he must have asked you another question and were going to have to ask him to repeat himself. As you opened your mouth, however, something clicked in your mind.

“Join you..?” you echoed, heart fluttering.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to dance with you?”

“Well?”

The cowboy looked...nervous? You had never seen him like this before. You couldn’t blame him, though, you were nervous, too. Hardly daring to break your gaze with him, you gingerly placed your hand in his, allowing him to guide you away from the fire and into a patch of shadows. He moved with the grace of a man who hadn’t asked someone to dance in a very very long time. Maybe he never had. Stiffly, he turned to you, lifting your hand with his and placing it on his shoulder. His hand found your waist as the other gripped your free hand.

For several beats, the movements felt ridiculous. The two of you couldn’t look each other in the eye. Your mouth had a mind of its own, twitching into an awkward smile again and again while you tried to watch your feet and not step on Arthur’s boots. Not that that mattered. Cowboys and mud and all that. Thankfully, it wasn’t just you. In an attempt to do something special, Arthur led you into a spin, but failed to release your waist, causing your shawl to slip off your shoulders and gather in a pile on the dirt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, scooping it up and trying to drape it over your shoulders again. You felt your heart soften. He was so vulnerable in this moment. He usually oozed confidence and strength, but right now, he was lost. You brushed off his apology, taking his hand again and drawing yourself closer to him. Here, you could at least pretend to be confident.

The movements started to come more naturally now. The fire was dying down, the camp seeming to fade into the background. All you could see were Arthur’s blue eyes, no hat’s shadow to hide under, the few lights around sparkling in their reflection. You could get lost in them. You were getting lost in them.

“So how’re you likin’ things?” Arthur asked.

“They’re alright.” You thought about your words carefully for a moment. “I’m just glad to be out of the mountains. It feels almost safe here.”

“I know what you mean.”

Silence again. The song had changed to something sweeter, somehow slower. Dutch and Molly were having a whispered conversation now. Few people still hung around the dying fire. You were acutely aware of the warmth emanating from the man in front of you, the rise and fall of his chest. You were standing even closer, you realized, your own chest brushing against his.

“What about you?”

Arthur hummed. He seemed to be studying your face, taking it all in like it was the first time in a long time. He looked happy and relaxed, a look you realized you hadn’t seen on him in months, but it somehow made him more handsome.

“From where I’m standing, it’s all perfect.” You swallowed. Hard. He must have noticed how sweaty your palms were despite the evening chill.

“Glad t’ hear it,” you replied. As you watched his face carefully, you felt his hand on your waist shift lower, nearly lining up with your hip before shifting towards your back, gently bringing you flush to him. Nervously, you lowered your arm, hooking your hand over his shoulder from the back instead. This was intimate. This was more like Dutch and Molly.

“Y’know,” Arthur started, “ever since arriving here, I can’t help but wonder what might make this place more perfect. I ain’t the smartest man, so it’s taken me way too long to think of somethin’.”

You were almost frozen, the only movement the continued swaying of your bodies in sync, your eyes wide as he spoke. He really looked like a different man right now. He wasn’t the stoic bodyguard of numerous robberies, debt collections, and other Dutch errands. This was the real Arthur.

“I’m real sorry it took me this long. Any chance you’ll forgive me?”

To an outsider, a romance novelist, this wasn’t much of a confession. He hadn’t even admitted anything. But you knew him. You knew all the glances, the teasings, the special treats and gifts, the attention in the mountains, the flushed cheeks in the past week, how difficult it was for Arthur to open up like this. You knew that for him, this was exposing his belly, being as transparent and vulnerable as he was comfortable being. There was time later down the road for more intimate conversations, you knew, and this, right now, was more than enough.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you said, stopping your swaying to coyly glance to the side. “After all, we’ve only known each other… What is it now, 3 years? That’s an awful short time to know someone.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Just don’t torture me, now, okay?”

Feeling more content than you had in a long time, you returned your eyes to his and said, “I promise.”

The music continued to play through to the end of the song. Dutch and Molly prepared to return to their tent, but you and Arthur stayed in each other’s arms, swaying to the tune in your heads, simply existing in the moment. This, here, now, was enough.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan reader insert #rdr2 reader insert #arthur morgan x reader #in which a cowboy barely confesses his feelings #angel writings

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ceilingfan5 · 4 years

Note

I’m a SLUT for a ballet au (for the thing) but this is because I’ve danced ballet my whole life so it’s #relatable

many thanks to @desiree-harding-fic for inspiration on this one!!

It’s a shame Kravitz is so beautiful, because Taako can’t stand his guts. In a just world, he’d be likeable, but in this podunk reality, he’s far too perfect, and the stick is too far up his ass, and he happens to be Taako’s most direct competition.

The other dancers they usually share parts with aren’t nearly as bothersome, or handsome, honestly. They’re still competition, but none so fine or detestable as Kravitz. He’s simply too fucking good of a ballet dancer not to despise. Not that Taako knows him that well, despite sharing practices nearly every day for, fuck, has it been several years now? Taako’s only made the normal attempts to get to know the guy, and Kravitz has no life whatsoever, and doesn’t drink, or eat out, or have any hobbies apparently at all, which has quite understandably stymied Taako’s admittedly weak olive branches over the seasons.

“He’s like a ballet robot,” Taako whispered to Avi once as they helped each other stretch, Taako’s leg well above his head. “You’re not wrong. Fuck, I think he heard you.”

“Let him, I don’t care. He can practice his whole life and he’ll never dance like I do.”

“Harsh,” Avi said. But true. They are both well known for their dancing styles, and especially the contrast between them. Kravitz is very technically good, even Taako has to admit that, but Taako’s grace and expression are completely unmatched, at least, anymore. They each have a lot of fans in their particular camps, but among the company, popularity skews itself a long way in Taako’s direction, comparatively. Is he well-liked either? Not exactly, although he claims he doesn’t care a bit. Where people find Kravitz hardworking and dry and obsessive, many find Taako straight up scary, too aloof to approach outside of practice. But does he get invited for drinks when the shows are over?

Yes, yes he does.

But no matter how they feel about each other (Taako assumes Kravitz scarcely thinks about him at all) they have work to do, and they do it better than anyone else. Principal role after principal role, they remain in direct competition, one taking one night and the other the next, for the smallest reasons. They often practice together, among the other princes or heroes or what have yous, but they focus on getting work done. It’s a work relationship. Nothing more.

But then the strangest thing happens.

It’s late, really fucking late, the sun already gone to bed where Taako ought to be, and he’s just about to get his keys and head home when he takes a turn down a fated hallway and sees something he was never meant to see: Kravitz, perfect, poised, princely Kravitz, huddled up against a corner, silently sobbing.

Taako very nearly turns and walks the other way, nearly thinks about asking to stay at Avi’s or Johann’s or even Sloane’s for the evening just to get out of the social flytrap, but Avi and Joann aren’t working tonight, and Sloane’s already gone. Nobody else would be easy enough to bully into such a favor on such short notice. Swearing under his breath, Taako starts down the hallway--at just the wrong moment. Kravitz hears his exhausted post-show plod and looks up, eyes soft and red, and they both freeze like deer in an ice cream store.

“Hey,” Taako says. His mouth works without him, stupid, stupid thing. “You, uh, you good? Injured or something?”

“Not injured, no,” Kravitz mumbles, his tone sniffly and weak. It makes Taako’s guts curdle to see this strong opponent so...pathetic. “No more than usual.”

“No kidding,” Taako says, and he shifts on his sore feet, one position no better than the next. “Listen, I don’t want to pry--”

“Then don’t.”

That raises Taako’s hackles.

“Maybe I’m fuckin’ gonna, don’t you tell me what to do. You’re the one crying in the hallway, you think of that? Sorry for barging in trying to make sure you weren’t bleeding or something!” And he storms toward the studio he left his bag in, but he doesn’t get far.

“Wait- Taako- I’m sorry, I-”

“What.” Taako spins, something he’s really particularly fucking good at. He’s tired, but he shows off anyway, just because it punctuates his point better. He folds his arms and glares at this soggy dipshit keeping him from going home and sleeping until the day starts anew Groundhog-style.

“I don’t want to keep you, I just-” Kravitz takes a deep, shaky breath, stress radiating off of him, and Taako’s innards ache. How fucking dare he gain empathy at this critical moment. He could be halfway home by now, dammit. “I don’t have anyone to talk to, and I...I’m-”

“Spit it out.”

“I’m,” his tears well up again as he barely gets the words out, “I’m kind of, k- kind of having a hard...time.” That’s all he manages, but his miserable face speaks a lot more, as if admitting that much was a Herculean feat. It’s so awful, seeing a man who’s usually so perfect posed slumping like his world is crumbling around him faster than a Nature Valley bar.

“Oh, Jesus,” Taako says. “Fuck. I can’t believe this. But. Shit. Do you, uh, you want a ride home?”

Kravitz nods, barely restraining a full sob, and Taako shakes his head, cursing his weakness. And feet, and ankles. He slips an arm around his rival, his enemy, his nemesis, his...new project.

#taakitz #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #watch this space for ballet-u part 2 #if you listen close you can hear me and desiree screaming abt this one

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shatterthefragments · 3 years

Text

Questions Tag Game

Thank you for tagging me @catholicnicky!

Hmm I'm supposed to tag 20 but I'll tag:

@kiaya, @caffeinatedbraincell, @randofando-spoonie, @cowgaykermit, @boutiquetraveltravelboutique @rhubarbdreams

If you want to play :)

1. Name/Nickname: Shatters <3

2. Gender: *shrugs noncommitedly*/nonbinary fits best

3. Star sign: okay so I took a thing and I'm going to assume that "Sun in Pisces" is this? bc i have no clue any time i look at that :eek:

4. Height: it is to my delight that I can definitely say 5'3" and not actually 5'2"! Bc I'm only a couple inches shorter than a friend and that would mean I'm taller than 5'2"!

5. Time: at the time of this Q: 12:20... ah I should get ready for bed soon... (longer by the time I post this at a little past 1 am)

6. Birthday: Feb. 26

7. Favourite Band: Currently? Maybe Polyphia? Most played currently at least. I've been vibing with Nothing But Thieves, Daughtry (again), 3OH!3 (i know), Florence + The Machine (though I have yet to do a discography playthrough yet), (ok so I'm scrolling through my saved artists for this one), The Neighbourhood, some local bands, and The Pretty Reckless lately.

8. Favourite solo artist: oh dear god. Um. Loving and/or getting back into: Rina Sawayama, Toby Fox, Ichika Nito, Tim Henson, Lil Nas X, King Princess, Hayley Kiyoko? idk it could be a lot more. But for Reasons it currently has to be Lil Nas X <3

9. song stuck in my head: because I caved and got TikTok (derogatory) because of the Chocolate Potato Cake (from 1912!) [and if you didn't just hear that in Dylan's voice you should find it on Youtube it's great] it's Maneskin's Beggin. When that's not recently heard, it varies between many other songs. If I whistle, it's usually a simple march we played in band. Maybe Soda. Maybe the hook from The Worst. Who knows~ not me!

10. last movie: either Waves or Wolf it's been so long since I've watched something. But soon hopefully Hartenstraat!

11. last show: Leverage! When I rewatched it last year or something!

12. when I created this blog: perhaps 2012 or 2013? I deleted most of my blog and started over though at around 15k posts so it may have been before that? But I don't think it was much before 2012 if so.

13. what I post: please tell me fuck if i know aaaaah whatever I see when I pop on when I have the capacity to actually reblog or queue it i guess? mostly related to whatver i'm fixated on <3 (speaking of - draining my queue for the tumblr post+ strike so that'll suck to get filled again afterwards :P)

14. last thing I googled: "Sugar and spice makes everything nice quote"

15. other blogs: theoldguardinshatters is my tog sideblog! I have some other... rather inactive blogs... not really sure I want to share them. Some are straight up empty.

16. do i get asks? not often

17. why I chose my URL: I'm a poet! jk jk (or am I?) but I wrote a poem back in middle school... actually a few versions based off the same premise/line (i was going to see if I could find it but looking back That Far in my blog is like "yeah, there's no way I'm faking my mental illness even when I fear I might be" so I'm just. not. going there. like holy shit maybe i should purge my old posts again...) But if I remember maybe I'll put what I can remember under a cut?

18. following: after swearing I'd never follow more than 100: 304. But many aren't active anymore :( (also literally me 5 yrs ago: 'oh god I follow more than 30 people I'm freaking out, it's too many!')

19. followers: 234, but who knows how many are porn bots I never really kept up back in the day

20. average hours of sleep: ...that is a good question... idk. maybe 5ish when I work and maybe 9ish when I am just me on my own?

21. lucky number: culturally: 8, personally, also: 3,7,13,17,19,23

22. instruments: formerly flute and tenor sax. I haven't exactly kept up oops >.< (so i guess rn I just whistle or hum or sometimes sing)

23. what am I wearing: shorts and a t-shirt

24. dream job: bookbinder, or some other creative pursuit that allows me to work with my hands - cake decorator? other arts? idk. maybe secretary? maybe fancy ass barista/pastry decorator? editor? illustrator? i have no clue please send suggestions <3

25. dream trip: with friends. Not having to drive the entire time. Longer than what I'm currently able to do... maybe a couple months... maybe in europe or asia? maybe just road tripping across canada. idk. It sure would be nice to see them again <3 hopefully camping with one (maybe two?) mid august-ish though! :D

26. favourite food: dim sum (bc I really miss going out with family!), sushi, desserts, pies, quiche, eggs benny, Popcorn, I'm not sure. those are also safe foods texturally usually too though.

27. nationality: canadian, half chinese.

28. favourite song: *shrugs* right now perhaps Soda or The Worst

29. last book I read: ...i don't know... maybe a reread I did of What They Always Tell Us or Martin Wilson's other book We Now Return To Regular Life last year?

30. top 3 fictional universes I would like to live in: ...fuck. I don't know. Most of the fantasy universes I read are fanfic... Maybe.... Waves Cinematic Universe - now that Gabriele has a boat, we could boat! Some universe with wings! A universe with UBI *sideeyes gvmt* Stardew Valley universe! :D

from what I can remember maybe (again - Several Versions of this were written... back in middle school...)

Shatter the fragments to see what's left Release the weight That's on your chest

There's nothing left For you to see Nothing left But apathy

#tag game #tag games #this was fun but hard!#poem snippet under the cut #long post #kinda yeah

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ridiculousyoungicarus · 3 years

Photo

i wanna hide the truth, i wanna shelter you

a love letter to luxor’s zander driskell

I want to start off with a disclaimer that there’s a bunch more pre-Luxor content on this one compared to the girls’, but with Zander it felt extremely important to explore that aspect. There’s a note on the section where I’m finally playing him in the roleplay due to that, but anything before that point is before I started playing him in the group. Anyway, I’m proud to present a 3 hour Zander playlist, come help me judge him for the amount of references to his dad and Ches throughout this entire playlist.

Yet again I’d like to thank Lex for help throughout this process, and warn everyone that the usual Zander trigger warnings are all over this playlist (mental health, violence, abuse / child abuse, etc etc). Anything additional is noted on the sections.

‘cause i had a fire, passion and desire. now all i require are circuits and wires | pre-luxor:

zander before attending luxor additional tws: potential self harm (breathe me)

iRobot (Jon Bellion) [ I was a human, before you killed me and ripped my heart out. ] // Breathe Me - Acoustic (Jonathan Roy) [ I think that I might break and lost myself again and I feel so unsafe. ] // Tell Me Why (Taylor Swift) [ Why do you have to make me feel small so you can feel whole inside? Why do you have to put down my dreams so you're the only thing on my mind? ] // Weight Of Living, Pt. II (Bastille) [ All that you desired when you were a child was to be old. Now that you are here, suddenly you fear you've lost control. ]

happiness is beautiful to see, won't you box it up for me? | sophomore year:

zander’s sophomore year at luxor, and the introduction to one ches elswood. additional tws: bleed out can be extremely uncomfortable to listen to with the whole, bleeding out theme. please skip that song if you feel you need to

Cop Car (Keith Urban) [ You were thinking that running for it would make a good story; I was thinking you were crazy as hell. ] // Don't Trust Me (Phillip Phillips) [ So when I say I'm okay, don't trust me. ] // Burn Out (Imagine Dragons) [ Oh, give me strength, and give me peace. Does anyone out there want to hear me? ] // Crawling (Linkin Park) [ This lack of self-control I fear is never-ending. Controlling, I can't seem. ] // Bleed Out (Blue October) [ Will I bleed out? I gave it all, but you can't stop taking from me. And way down, I know you know where to cut me with your eyes closed. ] // Don't Sing the Blues (Bohnes) [ I was ridiculous, young Icarus. I flew too close to the sun. ]

do you remember all the plans we made? | helena:

a section dedicated to zander’s relationship with helena additional tws: sex (carry your throne), alcohol (tonight I wanna cry)

Carry Your Throne (Jon Bellion) [ If you're lost in this darkness I'll carry your throne. No, I won't let it swallow you whole. ] // Snake Eyes (Mumford & Sons) [ It's in the eyes. I can tell, you will always be danger. ] // Halfway Gone (Lifehouse) [ You were always hard to hold, so letting go ain't easy. I'm hanging on but growing cold. ] // The Promise (Andy Black) [ Tell me what ever happened to the love we gave, the promise that we both betrayed. ] // Tonight I Wanna Cry (Keith Urban) [ And I thought that bein' strong meant never losin' your self-control, but I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain. To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain from my eyes, tonight I want to cry. ]

i say one day the valley is gonna swallow me whole, i feel like a photo that's been overexposed | junior year (‘18-‘19):

junior year of high school, fairly self explanatory additional tws: smoking (antisocial)

Flaws (Bastille) [ You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground. Dig them up. Let's finish what we've started. ] // Battle Cry (Imagine Dragons) [ Just one more time before I go, I'll let you know that all this time I've been afraid, wouldn't let it show. Nobody can save me now, no. ] // 12 Rounds (Bohnes) [ I'm coming home, I've got some things to say. My gloves are on and my shoes are almost laced. ] // Novocaine (Fall Out Boy) [ Don’t mind me, I’m just the son of a gun. So don’t stop, don't stop 'till your heart goes numb. Now I’m just numb, I don’t feel a thing for you. ] // Machine (Imagine Dragons) [ 'Cause I've been wondering when you gonna see I'm not for sale. I've been questioning when you gonna see I'm not a part of your machine. ] // Antisocial (Ed Sheeran feat. Travis Scott) [ So antisocial, but I don't care. Don't give a damn, I'm gonna smoke here. ] // Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea (Fall Out Boy) [ Seems like the whole damn world went and lost its mind and all my childhood heroes have fallen off or died. ] // Never Going Back (The Score) [ I'm never gonna follow just because they say so. ]

consign me not to darkness | summer 2019:

the summer after the merge, where zander is stuck at home working for lance additional tws: alcohol (if you’re going through hell)

Two Evils (Bastille) [ I'm the lesser of two evils or am I tricking myself nice? ] // Man or a Monster (Sam Tinnesz feat. Zayde Wølf) [ When you look at yourself, are you a man or a monster? ] // DNA (Lia Marie Johnson) [ Are the pieces of you in the pieces of me? I'm just so scared you're who I'll be. When I erupt just like you do, they look at me like I look at you. ] // Broken Crown (Mumford & Sons) [ So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down I'll never wear your broken crown. I can take the road and I can fuck it all away, but in this twilight, our choices seal our fate. ] // If You're Going Through Hell {Before The Devil Even Knows} (Rodney Atkins) [ I've been deep down in that darkness, I've been down to my last match. Felt a hundred different demons breathin' fire down my back. ] // Mud On the Tires (Brad Paisley) [ 'Cause it's a good night to be out there soakin' up the moonlight. ] // Pray For You (Jaron And The Long Road To Love) [ I pray your brakes go out runnin' down a hill, I pray a flower pot falls from a window sill and knocks you in the head like I'd like to. ]

but all the scars they prove that i fought my way through so, i always keep 'em showing | senior year of hs (��19-‘20)

finally, the point in the timeline where zander is actually getting roleplayed by me. includes summer camp fun too

The Silence (Bastille) [ Tell me a piece of your history that you've never said out loud. Pull the rug beneath my feet, and shake me to the ground. ] // Stand Up (The Cab) [ Yeah, all of my demons are kicking and screaming but I'll never leave them behind. Yeah, maybe I'm crazy but don't try to save me, 'cause I've never felt so alive. ] // Only One (The Score) [ Tell me how it feels to know I'm not a puppet under control. I cut the strings a long time ago. ]

running from the devil, but the devil takes hold | fall & winter 2020:

a new school year, increased disdain for his father, a certain set of posters, and the start of realizing there may be something wrong with him.

Gold (Imagine Dragons) [ But now you can't tell the false from the real. Who can you trust? When everything you touch turns to gold. ] // Just Like You (Three Days Grace) [ You thought you were standing beside me, you were only in my way. You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you. ] // Bad Blood (Bastille) [ All this bad blood here, won't you let it dry? It's been cold for years, won't you let it lie? ] // Middle Finger (Bohnes) [ But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can't fly. Not only will I soar again, I'll own the fucking sky. ] // American Beauty/American Psycho (Fall Out Boy) [ You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out, and you can kill me, kill me or let God sort 'em out. ] // Homecoming King (Andy Black) [ You're standing there with the homecoming king; turn the silver spoon into a diamond ring. Can he make you disappear without anyone noticing? Yeah, fuck the homecoming king ] // Monster (Imagine Dragons) [ I'm only a man with a candle to guide me, I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me. A monster, a monster, I've turned into a monster. ] // Animal I Have Become (Three Days Grace) [ Somebody help me through this nightmare I can't control myself. Somebody wake me from this nightmare, I can't escape this hell. ] // Gallows (The Score feat. Jamie N Commons) [ Been turning my back on the sun these days, trying to walk the line but I'm losing my way. ]

i'm sifting through the sand, looking for pieces of broken hourglass trying to get it all back but it back together | spring 2021:

continuing to take a good look at his mental health, a desire to improve, and an appreciation for his support circle. additional tws: sex/masturbation mention (All Time Low)

All Time Low (Jon Bellion) [ I've been trying to fix my pride but that shit's broken, that shit's broken. ] // Bishops Knife Trick (Fall Out Boy) [ These are the last blues we're ever gonna have, let's see how deep we get. The glow of the cities below lead us back to the places that we never should have left. ] // Demons (Imagine Dragons) [ They say it's what you make, I say it's up to fate; it's woven in my soul, I need to let you go. Your eyes, they shine so bright, I wanna save that light, I can't escape this now, unless you show me how. ] // I'll Be Good (Jaymes Young) [ I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed. I'll be a better man today. ] // The Anchor (Bastille) [ You were the light that is blinding me. You're the anchor that I tie to my brain. 'Cause when it feels when I'm lost at sea, you're the song that I sing again and again. ] // Ungrateful Eyes (Jon Bellion) [ Still lost, still feel depressed like I'm try to find a way in. I'm trying to figure this out, but my God I'm so human. And so I turned to my sister and smiled and asked this question, “all we wanna know is where the stars came from, but do we ever stop to watch them shine?” ] // Rise Up (Imagine Dragons) [ The darkness right in front of me, oh, it's calling out, and I won't walk away. ] // Bless The Broken Road (Rascal Flatts) [ Every long lost dream led me to where you are, others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars, pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true, that God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you. ]

#musing ( playlists )#no chains won't hold me down ( musings )#violence tw #Smoking tw #alcohol tw #abuse tw #child abuse tw #self harm tw #blood tw #stabbing tw #bc implied

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mymoodwriting · 4 years

Text

The Choice Is Yours

F!Reader x Vampire!Yuta

Genre: Vampire Dystopia

Warning: Blood, Trauma, Fire, Guilt

Words: 2K

Chapters:

Prompt: Good behavior goes a long way when a new world order is established within hours and humans wind up at the bottom of the food chain. As luck would have it you were claimed by a vampire named Yuta, so you’re saved in a sense. Many would say you’re in a rather unique situation, and despite its perks it wasn’t really something you asked for.

Everything ached, and it felt like maybe you shouldn’t be alive, but you were. You felt the hard ground beneath you, and you heard hushed voices around you. When you managed to open your eyes you saw that you were in some kind of tent. You tried to move but it caused you to scream in agony, and you felt like you’d pass out again.

“Woah, take it easy.”

“What… where am I? Who are you?”

“You’re safe, my name’s Jinwoo.”

“You… I remember… why did you attack the limo?”

“Why were you in it?”

“Me… my question first…”

“Isn’t it obvious? We have to fight back, show those bloodsuckers we’re not afraid.”

“So… you know how to kill them?”

“Burning them hasn’t failed us.”

“Yeah.” You groaned. “That makes sense…”

“Oh, here.” Jinwoo held a straw to your lips. “Drink this, it will help.”

“What is it?”

“Just drink.”

You were about to but then the familiar scent of blood hit you. It made you gag, but that ultimately hurt you more.

“Vampire blood only heals minor wounds.”

“Yeah…” He seemed surprised you knew that. “But if you drink some periodically it can heal you completely. Sorry again, we didn’t know there was a human in the limo.”

“Obviously.” You took a sip. “How did you know I was human? I was in the wreck.”

“You’re not as pale, and you were also bleeding a lot more than the others.”

“Lucky me.”

“So, gonna tell me why you were in that limo?”

“I’m… I was the vampire’s feeder.”

“You? A feeder? No offense but I’ve seen feeders and they’re-”

“A mess? Yeah I know. He didn’t turn me into a mindless junkie, just drank from me until I was basically dead and then let me recover, only to do it all again.”

“That sounds awful.”

“I agree…” You managed the strength to sit up, with Jinwoo’s help. “So, are you guys the resistance?”

“In this area I suppose.”

“I didn’t know you guys were real.”

“Didn’t have faith in your people?”

“The possibility was low, but existence nonetheless. I’m glad I was wrong.”

“You don’t have to worry so much anymore. I’ll get you something to eat and then we can get moving.”

“Moving? Where are we going?”

“A sanctuary.”

He gave you a smile before exiting the tent. You slowly moved your limbs, trying to regain control without being in too much pain. It seemed that you were healing, slowly but surely, which means they’ve probably been feeding you vampire blood since the accident. You thought back but the accident was probably hours ago, and you had no idea if Yuta and the others were really dead. Regardless, you weren’t sure how to feel, and you couldn’t just sit there.

Despite some of the pain you managed to get on your hands and knees. You took a moment to gain your strength and got on your feet. It felt kinda weird but you managed to step out of the tent. You were in a small clearing, a few other tents around, as well as a big fire place in the center. There were quite a few people around, but no one paid you attention, more focused on packing up. You weren’t up for long before Jinwoo grabbed you and had you sit down.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet just yet.”

“But you said we’re moving, I have to be able to walk.”

“I can carry you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden like that.”

“And you think you won’t slow us down?”

Another voice broke up your conversation with Jinwoo, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Being carried or trying to walk on your own, either way you’d drag everyone down.

“Sorry…”

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Nice one, Minhyuk.”

“I just meant… even with your injuries we’d move faster if Jinwoo just carried you.”

“I’d complain about why you saved me if I’m this much trouble, but my injuries are because of your actions, so I’ll just keep my mouth shut.”

“Sorry…”

“Me too.”

“Alright then!” Jinwoo changed the conversation. “Great first impressions, and while we’re here, I never got your name.”

“It’s y/n.”

“Very nice, now Min here does have a point. We’ll move faster if I carry you, but as long as you drink your healing juice you should be able to walk on your own in no time.”

“Healing juice?”

“Do you want me to call it blood?”

“No…”

“Exactly, now here, you need to eat. And stay put, please.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

The boys went to help the rest pack up and get moving. It was kinda peaceful, as if you had gone on a camping trip. You walked around a bit, trying to get back to normal, but you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep up with the group. It was kind of embarrassing, but you doubt they’d let you argue with them anyway. Once everyone was ready to move Jinwoo offered you a piggyback ride, and you could only say yes.

He was a lot stronger than you expected, or maybe you were lighter because of your injuries, either way, he didn’t seem to be bothered. You kept quiet, not knowing what to say or talk about but it seemed Jinwoo didn’t like the silence. He asked about your life before all this, although reminiscing about the past hurt. He could tell the subject matter wasn’t the best but you were quick to change the subject.

“Did you really… kill them?”

“Well, the crash happened kinda in the middle of nowhere. Everyone inside was unconscious, and we lit that limo up. I guess you didn’t hear but there was an explosion. We don’t hang around to see the bodies, but fire like that, and with no help coming to them, the chances are very low.”

“Yeah… yeah you’re probably right.”

“Y/n…”

“Hm?”

“Are you crying?”

“What?” You quickly wiped away the tears. “No, no I’m not.”

“Did you care about the vampire?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Shouldn’t you be disgusted with me right now?”

“Well… let me guess, you were dressed in white?”

“Yeah…”

“That already puts you above those in grey. He took care of you, didn’t he? Way better than anyone else?”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You said you were his personal feeder, I’ve seen how feeders really are, and they’re basically pampered. You can call what you’re feeling love, I might call it stockholm. Either way, you don’t even know what you feel.”

“I… I suppose you’re right… how do you know so much about feeders?”

“One of the first places we attacked was this small little club. Burned a few vamps and saved some humans but… they were pretty gone. The place was very nice, and the feeders seemed well cared for.”

“It makes sense when you think about it. Feeders would be seen as pets more than anything, so of course they’d get the best care.”

“Is that what you were? A pet?”

“Basically… he called me that from time to time too. It put me in a couple of bad situations too…”

“Sorry to hear, but I promise you’ll be safe once we get to the sanctuary.”

“Where is that exactly?”

“You see those two mountains ahead of us?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a hidden valley between them, kinda dangerous, so the bloodsuckers don’t think we’d bother, but we do. Beyond that we’ve built our safe place, and we’re doing just fine.”

“That’s good to hear, that we’re fighting, but why did you attack the limo? Why not the house up the road?”

“We don’t want to hurt our kind. If we had known you were in the limo, we wouldn’t have attacked.”

“But the house doesn’t have any humans.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah… it’s just full of vamps, and some halfbreeds basically act as servants, no humans at all.”

“Huh… I guess we have our next target.”

It suddenly dawned on you what you had just said. Your mind immediately jumped to those you had played games with, they were practically innocent children, and you just painted a target on their back. Then again, they weren’t human, they were living in luxury on the backs of humans, maybe they deserved to see that your kind isn’t weak and won’t just submit.

♥♥♥♥♥

Around what you assume was lunch time, the group came to a stop. You were glad to finally get off Jinwoo’s back, wanting him to rest. You tried to walk on your own, actually able to do it, but not at a fast pace. Regardless, you were happy that you could walk and wouldn’t be a literal burden on Jinwoo’s shoulders. Also grateful for the jacket given your shirt was torn up and would leave you way more exposed.

“How many humans have you saved?”

“Not enough.”

“Okay…”

“Sorry, I just feel like we could do more, better, we just don’t have the numbers.”

“I could help, I think…”

“You don’t have to. There’s nothing wrong with you staying in the sanctuary.”

“But I can help, I’ve learned a lot… being a pet…”

“Like what?”

“Well… halfbreeds… their fangs hurt humans, but not vampires. So wouldn’t… the fangs of a halfbreed be something we could weaponize?”

“Huh, that’s pretty fucked up.”

“I… I just…”

“That house you mentioned before, said it was full of halfbreeds, might not be a bad place to start.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

As the sun began to set, the group found a spot to set up camp for the night. Jinwoo said the trip back would take at least five days, three to get to the mountains, and another two to get through them. That’s how you learned they had been dragging you on this homemade sled thing for about a day after the crash. You must have been in really bad shape, meaning the vampire blood is the only reason you’re alive.

“So, why not have one big campfire? Why a bunch of small ones.”

“Safety.” Minhyuk said. “One big fire could attract unwanted attention, by having smaller ones the smoke is more spread out and less likely to be seen.”

“You guys have it all planned out, you need to be cautious, even all the way out here.”

“Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Definitely.”

After eating and doing your best to help clean up you retired to a tent. You were laying down, trying to get comfortable, when others came in and started settling in. You didn’t want to sound rude and ask what they were doing, although Jinwoo came in and saw your face knowing what was troubling you.

“We only have so many tents, and we can’t keep the fires going through the night, so we pile into them and sleep close for warmth.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You guys really know how to survive.”

You curled up, not sure how you slept before. Everyone seemed to knock out pretty fast, although you tossed about for a bit. You didn’t realize but you were slowly inching towards Jinwoo. He only realized when he turned over and found your face inches from his. You were shaking lightly, and he slowly reached over to gently wake you.

“Y/n…”

“Hm.”

“Y/n… wake up…”

“Hm…” You slowly opened your eyes and saw how close to Jinwoo you were. “Oh shit… sorry… I didn’t realize…”

“Are you cold?”

“A… a bit…”

“Come on then.” He held his arm up and let you snuggle against him. “Better?”

“Yeah… I shared a bed with the vampire… he was pretty cold to the touch… I guess I never got used to it.”

“Nor will you. Get some sleep, we move at sunrise.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, I got you.”

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myemergence · 4 years

Text

(never) leaving you behind

A/N: Thanks to Nicole for the beta on this!

For Buddie First Kiss Week prompt: because they think they’re going to die.

@buddiefirstkissweek

Check out my other works over on AO3

***

“I don’t think this is what Christopher meant when he said ‘have fun, Dad’,” Eddie says dryly. He grunts as the Jeep jumps over the ragged road, grabbing onto the door frame for security.

Buck rolls his eyes, glancing at Eddie before bringing his attention back to the rough terrain leading to the canyon’s hiking trails. Buck begged Eddie to come out with him today to do something while Christopher was away at summer camp. He was kid-free —he had the freedom to do whatever he wanted—and Eddie’s choice would have been to have a Netflix marathon or catch up on cleaning, maybe even read a book while the house was quiet. Buck’s idea was quite the opposite: go hiking.

In the grueling California heat.

Eddie glances at his coffee mug as it jostles with each and every bump. It’s too early for this. He really needs a caffeine fix before he tells Buck where he can shove his ‘adventure’ and ‘embracing life’. He uses the back of his hand to dab away the light sheen of sweat that’s already beading on his brow.

“I don’t think he meant for you to stay at home in your pajamas and be a dull dad, Eddie. He’s going to ask what you did while he was away at camp. Which, by the way, I advised you heavily against, if you’ll remember.”

“Oh, I remember,” Eddie mutters, and he’s certain that Buck purposely hits this bump a little harder than the rest. He narrows his eyes.

“I’m just saying,” Buck continues, his body somehow relaxed despite the steady stream of bumps and the gritty road that crunches beneath the tires. “He’s not going to want to hear about how you watched Tiger King, or whatever the hell it is that you’re watching these days.” He finally brings the Jeep to a stop, and Eddie breathes out a sigh.

“Yeah, he doesn’t want to have such a dull and boring dad,” Eddie grumbles, grabbing the travel mug and taking a few sips, unmoving, as Buck hops out and moves towards the back to pull their hiking bags out. Eddie spent the better part of Christopher’s early years in a warzone and aside from his work with the 118, his life these days is less than riveting. Eddie isn’t unaware of that, but having Buck point it out to him puts him on the defensive.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just—” Buck scrambles to get the words out, but Eddie cuts him off abruptly.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” Eddie says sarcastically as he climbs out of the Jeep and turns his full attention to Buck, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s just what?”

“It’s just you’re better than that, Eds. You’re not some boring, old man. You’re a cool dad, an exciting dad.”

Eddie raises his brow as he takes his pack from Buck and snorts a laugh. “Really?”

“Really. How many kids get to say that their dad is a hero?” Buck pauses, watching as Eddie sets the coffee mug back in the cupholder. “ You really should stick to water for the rest of today.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Sure thing, Papa Buck .” He hauls his pack onto his back and watches Buck do the same, clipping the buckle across his chest to secure it. Although Eddie protested the entire way out here, he’s glad to be spending time with Buck. He’d prefer to be relaxing at his place over coffee or a few beers though, not waking up at 5 am on his day off.

But, he’ll take what he can get at this point.

______________________________

Buck walks beside Eddie, matching his stride step for step. They’ve been hiking for a few hours already, though Eddie’s sure it’s been twelve days. “Isn’t this better than a Netflix marathon?”

Eddie takes a few long sips from his water. “Oh yeah, this is so much more relaxing.”

“Stop.”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I mean, I could—”

“No Eddie, stop .” He almost continues walking, only halting when he feels Buck’s hand closing around his wrist. He’s not sure why, but his heart races at the contact. Buck’s palm is tacky, his fingers a hot bracelet around his wrist.

“I—”

“Look around,” Buck’s voice is softer now as he gestures his other hand in front of them. The blue sky and bright sun are the finishing touches to the picturesque view of the canyon. Eddie’s heart continues to beat rapidly in his chest and he wonders if Buck can feel his heartbeat race beneath his fingertips.

Buck’s hand drops away and they stand together in silence. His eyes sweep over the view and he feels a certain peacefulness here. There’s a stillness and a sense of calm that can’t be explained. “It’s… beautiful.” Eddie says finally, glancing over at Buck, noticing the way that the sun brightens the blue in his eyes. Beautiful .

He swallows hard before he feels Buck’s hand on his shoulder. “Come on, it gets better,” Buck promises. Eddie nods, the contact pulling Eddie away from thoughts of swimming in the ocean of his best friend’s gorgeous blue eyes. He needs to pull it together.

Eddie tries to pinpoint when his feelings went from platonic to… whatever this is.

He realized after the lawsuit how much he needed Buck in his life. His absence in Eddie’s life had been excruciating, trying to navigate the days without him there felt impossible, and facing life’s challenges without him felt insurmountable. So he reminds himself to keep his feelings in check because he can’t face that kind of loss again, even if that means entertaining every ridiculous idea that he has.

Sure, Eddie had put up a fight about coming today. But both he and Buck knew he’d never say no, that he couldn’t .

So, they continue their hike, and Eddie’s legs ache with fatigue. “Buck, I need to sit down and drink some water,” He grumbles as he takes several long sips of water, unable to remember the last time that water was so refreshing.

“Alright, take a break but I just want to check this out quick,” Buck says as he walks closer to the edge of the Canyon that overlooks the valley below.

“Don’t get too close,” Eddie warns as he digs in his bag for a granola bar.

“How am I supposed to get a decent selfie if I don’t get close?” Buck jokes as he pulls out his phone.

“Buck, don’t be an idiot,” Eddie says tersely as he glances up, seeing that Buck isn’t actually trying to take a selfie. Eddie pulls out his own phone briefly, frowning when he looks down and sees that he doesn’t have any signal. “I swear to God, if you end up being one of those morons that falls off of a cliff taking a selfie, I’ll kill you myself.”

There’s a stretch of silence.

“Shit.” Eddie hears the sudden change in Buck’s tone, tight in alarm, and his head snaps up. He watches Buck blink blearily, his eyes struggling to focus. The fuzzy look in Buck’s eyes reminds Eddie that Buck hasn’t eaten anything since they started the hike.

“Buck,” Eddie calls out in warning, moving quickly to get to his feet. “Buck, get away from-” The words die in the back of Eddie’s throat as terror rips through him. He sees Buck stumble, hears the sickening sound of crumbling rock and the world stutters to a halt.

Shock registers on Buck’s face seconds before he disappears along from the edge of the cliff he was just standing on.

The clifftop is calm and still. In Buck's absence, the sky remains as blue as his eyes; the sun still blinding in its light without the glow of Buck’s smile.

It feels inexplicably wrong in a world where Buck no longer exists.

“Buck!” Eddie’s legs crumble beneath him and he feels paralyzed as the gravity of the situation overwhelms him. Buck is… gone , almost as if he was never there to begin with.

Suddenly Eddie is picturing a world without Buck, the grief and weight of that slamming into him so hard that a sob bursts past his lips.

“BUCK!” He screams desperately, scrambling forward, careful to slow his movements a few feet from the edge.

Eddie’s holding his breath, waiting. Waiting for a response from Buck. Waiting for Buck to say something. Waiting for any sound to indicate that he’s okay.

Any sign at all that he’s somehow survived this.

Nothing comes.

“Fuck. Evan!” Eddie howls, the terror that’s clawing at his chest threatening to suffocate him. His hands shake as he lowers himself to the ground, crawling the last few feet, dragging himself to the edge. Another helpless sob rips through him.

He can see Buck’s body now, and he forces out a shallow breath. He tries to level his voice as he calls out to him again. “Buck!” Somehow he’s managed to land on a small ledge about fifteen feet below, his body hanging precariously, fingers white-knuckled from the strain as he grips at the edge. He sees cuts and scrapes, trying to catalog the damage like he does every day on the job. His eyes sweep over Buck’s face, seeing pain and fear there.

Then it hits him. Hard.

The relief he feels when he first sees Buck somewhere other than lifeless at the bottom of the canyon quickly fades, It’s replaced with something familiar; helplessness and fear which threaten to suffocate him. Feelings that are too familiar when it comes to Buck. Eddie tries to blink away the horrific memory that creeps in, threatening to paralyze him.

The noise, it’s so loud. Eddie can barely hear anything, Buck is trapped beneath the ladder rig and he’s unable to escape, pinned down. Eddie’s helpless to do anything to help. They’re at the mercy of a hate-filled psychopath, and he’s looking at Buck like he’s collateral damage. Eddie chokes on the fear, raw and bitter in the back of his throat. How can they just stand here and look on as Buck writhes in pain?

But they’re forced to. And for what feels like hours Eddie has to swallow down the absolute terror that’s rising up in his chest, gripping too tightly like a vice and making it impossible to breathe. They need to help him, they need to do something . But the police cordon on scene makes it impossible, and they’re forced to hang back.

He has no control. He can do nothing for Buck. Nothing.

Eddie forces the feeling down. He could do nothing for Buck after the explosion, but this isn’t the ladder rig. He let Buck down before and he’s damn sure that he’s not going to do it again this time.

“Eddie,” Buck all but pleas, eyes flitting to Eddie’s as he attempts to gain some footing below to push himself up. Eddie pulls his phone out to try calling for help, but as soon as he looks at his phone he remembers they have no signal, and he all but throws his phone over the precipice. There’s nobody he can call, nobody that he can send for help.

“Buck, can you grab hold of anything else? Is there anything you can put your foot on?”

“I’m trying,” Buck grunts, and fuck, Eddie can see the fear in his eyes and hear the tremble in his voice. Eddie blinks, forcing the tears down his cheeks. “I-I’ll get it. Go get help.” Eddie registers that he’s pushing his fear down for Eddie’s benefit, and it’s everything he can do not to scream.

The self-sacrificing fuck.

He wants Eddie to leave him while he dangles off of a cliff and then falls to his death. Alone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie growls.

“Eddie, you have to go get help. There’s nothing you can do.” He knows Buck isn’t going to let it go, and this battle of stubbornness is going to end one way or another on this cliff. He’s out of Eddie’s reach, about fifteen feet down but Eddie’s not ready to let any distance get between them, not again. He refuses to stand by this time.

“I’m not leaving you here to die. So save your energy, alright?” There’s no way that Buck can hold on much longer. Eddie sees the obvious shake in his shoulders, he hears the grunts as Buck gives everything he has to try to pull himself upright onto the flat surface. Eddie glances down, sees the gaps and crevices in the rock. He can do this. He has to do this. He can’t let this be the end.

He won't.

“Eddie, no!”

They’ve scaled down cliff sides, done repel rescues, and dealt with worse conditions before, but Eddie knows this is different. There’s no harness keeping him safe, there’s no winch to lift them to safety once he gets down to Buck. He knows that he's out of options. This time, he refuses to leave Buck behind. Eddie takes a steadying breath and presses his fingers into the Saint Christopher medal that hangs around his neck. He shifts his body, turning so he teeters over the edge, finally finding footholes and trying to ignore the steep drop below.

“Eddie, please! You have to think of Christopher!” Buck yells, continuing to struggle below.

“I am,” Eddie grunts as he moves down the face of the cliff, little by little. “Christopher would never forgive me for giving up on his Buck.” It isn’t much longer until he’s on the ledge that Buck is dangling from. Eddie lays flat on his stomach, moving quickly to grab Buck’s arms. It’s a long tense moment as they struggle to get Buck back onto the ledge without Buck losing grip or Eddie slipping down with him.

“You’re an idiot!” Of all the words that Eddie’s expecting after he prevented his friend from falling to his death, these weren’t among then. Buck’s tone is absolutely seething, it prickles at Eddie’s skin.

Both men pant, their backs pressed against the hard rock behind them.

Eddie barely manages a breathless laugh, turning his head to look at Buck. “How about a thank you for saving your life?” Buck’s jaw is set and he rolls his eyes wordlessly, grimacing as he looks down at his battered hands but doesn’t turn to look at Eddie. He watches Buck in silence when he doesn’t say anything. “Did you think I was just going to leave you down here to die alone?”

“That was the plan,” Buck whispers, and Eddie feels the world around him fracture.

“How could you think that I would just… let you die?” Eddie has to force the words out as he watches Buck. Finally, he lifts his eyes to Eddie’s and he sees the pain there, the reluctance. “When you were being crushed by the ladder rig I was forced to stand by. I couldn’t do anything to help you. All I could do was pray that we’d be able to get to you in time. I-I couldn’t leave this up to chance again.”

“If you would’ve just left me down here, you would’ve been okay, Eddie. You—” Buck cuts himself off, the broken look on his face registering his total lack of faith that they'll be able to find a way out of this. “Christopher’s already lost his mom and you barely survived your last brush with death. I am so pissed at you for putting yourself in this situation.”

Eddie’s quiet as he looks out at the steep drop below. “But I did survive. And think about how many times you’ve survived when you obviously shouldn’t have. We’re going to find a way out of this. You can’t give up before we’ve even tried.”

So they try. If their hands weren’t already cut up before, attempting to climb back up the face of the cliff proves impossible. It’s too steep, too high, too unstable. Each attempt causes pebbles to rain down until they give up, panting from the excruciating heat of the sun beating down on them. No drinks, no food, no supplies.

They sit beside each other silently, until daylight fades and dusk settles on them. Eddie isn’t sure what’s worse, the silence forces him into his own thoughts or that Buck has been silent for hours now. He’s used to Buck being loud and boisterous, an overwhelming presence that makes Eddie feel complete. The absence of that energizing life — the fear of their sealed fate — leaves Eddie feeling lifeless.

Eddie glances over at Buck, briefly wonders he’s actually fallen asleep because of how quiet he’s been. He sees Buck staring straight ahead. “Are you still mad at me?” A shiver coursing through his body as the temperature begins to drop, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. He wonders if Buck is even listening.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Buck whispers. “It wasn’t that long ago that you narrowly survived death.” He sounds like all of his energy has been zapped and Eddie wishes there was some way that he could bring him back. His tone is rough from exhaustion and heavy with guilt. “I’m the one that said you needed adventure in your life. I’m the one that said—”

“No,” Eddie says, reaching blindly for Buck’s hand and wincing through the pain that jolts through him. “This is not on you. I chose to come out here. I could have said no. I mean, Netflix may have been a little safer.”

"This is just what I do,” Buck says, the self-deprecation in his voice clear. “First I put Christopher at risk and he almost dies. Then I make you come out here with me for some ridiculous guy’s adventure while Christopher’s at camp so you have a story to tell and… we’re not gonna make it, Eddie. Nobody’s gonna find us.”

“This isn’t your fault. I wanted to spend time with you, Buck. I-” This isn’t how Eddie’s pictured this going, not that he’s imagined a thousand different scenarios. All of the possible ways that Eddie’s walls can come down enough for him to tell Buck how he actually feels. Buck might be right, they might not get rescued and… they might die out here. “Did you tell anyone about hiking?”

“I told Maddie I was going hiking, but I uh, I never said where.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie tells him quietly, though his voice breaks a little. He gently squeezes Buck’s hand and scoots closer until his side is pressed against Buck’s.

“When that drilling rig came down on top of the well, and you were still down there… the world stopped. And I know that you cut your rope because you had to save the kid, and I… I definitely would have done the same thing, Eddie.” Buck’s voice is hoarse as he turns to look at him. Despite the darkness, he can see the way that Buck’s eyes shine with tears. “I know we haven’t really talked about it because you said you were fine .”

“I was …. I-I am.”

“We’re not fine right now. And what happened to you down there… it wasn’t fine. Christopher almost lost you. And then what would happen to him, huh?”

A choked sound slips past Eddie’s lips then. “It was okay. Because I knew you were up there. You were safe.” He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the hard rock, trying to let the icy discomfort distract him from the burning ache in his chest. “I knew that if I couldn’t make it back to him… that you would make sure he was okay. That if I died, you would’ve made sure that he didn’t forget me, that he’d still have his days with his Buck. He has people who love him, but I didn’t give up,” he whispers. “I fought to come back to Chris, to you.”

Buck drags his free hand through his short curls. “You fought so hard to come back after the drill rig collapsed and yet you threw it away like it was nothing to come down here today. Putting yourself back in danger. You just gave up on everything, on your life, on Christopher. You were up there and you were safe! Why?” The volume and anger drain from his tone and he ends brokenly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I- I’m not that important. Not like he is. Not like Isabel or Pe-”

Eddie feels a wave of nausea overcome him. He blinks, the tears shaking loose and slipping down his cheeks “What?” He demands, his tone bewildered. “How can you say that you’re not important, Ev? How can you be so blind? You are so important. You matter the most. I could never just… leave you behind.”

Eddie feels tremors against his side, an aftershock of the sobs that have overcome Buck. He breathes out the steadiest breath that he can muster, slipping an around Buck’s shoulders and drawing him close. Eddie’s fingers slip through Buck’s hair and he tries to ignore the way that Buck’s hair is becoming wet with Eddie’s own tears. He repeats the soothing motion, his lips nearly brushing Buck’s forehead. “I’ll never leave you behind.”

He isn’t sure Buck truly understands the weight of those words, the thought of existing without Buck now is like a rainbow trying to exist without the sun; an actual impossibility. He remembers all of the days that Buck’s bright smile and warmth have pushed aside the overbearing clouds that Eddie’s unable to weather alone; a dry shelter to get warm amidst a storm.

“I’m sorry,” Buck sniffles and for a moment Eddie’s afraid he’s crossed a line, that invisible line that he’s been hovering over precariously for months. The line that friends don’t cross, inching closer and closer and barely staying on the side of friendship, gazing longingly at more.

Buck shifts slightly to look up at Eddie. “Thank you… for not leaving me behind.” Buck’s voice is raw, hoarse from crying. Eddie sees the trail Buck’s tears have left behind and he itches to brush them away. To assure him that it’s going to be okay.

Instead, he nods. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Buck. It was selfish,” he tries for a joking tone, but it falls flat and his voice shakes. Because Eddie knows the underlying truth: it was selfish. He saved Buck for his own benefit, because he can’t deal with a life without Buck.

Buck shifts in his embrace and Eddie’s fingers slip from his hair. Buck kneels in front of Eddie and, without warning, Buck’s hands are on his face, the space between them is gone. Buck’s lips press against his, rough and needy. Desperate tears slip from Eddie’s eyes as he parts his lips and Buck moves closer, until he’s straddling Eddie’s lap. Their chests press together and Eddie cradles the back of Buck’s head with one hand, the other grasping onto Buck’s shirt like a lifeline.

Buck draws back, heart still thundering in his chest while Eddie’s hand remains balled in a fist at the front of Buck’s shirt. Slowly, his eyes open and he has to remind himself how to breathe with striking blue eyes watching him.

The rapid rise and fall of Buck’s chest is captivating, overcome by the fact that they’re both still alive. They’ve survived so much and this is happening. Buck kissed him after all of this time. Maybe it’s born from desperation because they don’t know if or when they’ll be found, maybe he would have kissed anyone at this moment — Eddie’s not sure. But he feels a light fluttering in his stomach, and he swallows hard as he tries to keep it at bay— that feeling that Eddie’s trying not to give a name to; hope.

It’s hard not to let that feeling surge through him, difficult to remain level-headed and impossible to be logical with the heavy presence in his lap. Buck’s eyes bore into him, parting his lips like he wants to say something, like he needs to say something. The air between them is charged, “Eddie,” he croaks. Eddie grabs Buck’s face, dragging Buck deeper into his space. He wants to find refuge in him until nothing else exists.

There’s no canyon, no dark, no fears here.

Only Buck.

Soft lips brush against Eddie’s once more before he withdraws. Eddie’s hand rests against Buck’s chest, his heartbeat strong and steady. “We can’t give up yet,” Eddie tells him quietly. “We have something to fight for, both of us — so many things, Buck. Christopher. Maddie and Chim’s baby. Our families. The 118.”

Buck’s nod is barely perceptible. “Each other,” he adds, brushing his thumb against the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“So let’s rest. When the sun rises, we’ll find a way.”

They press against each other, cuddling the best that they can for an uncomfortable and sleepless night.

______________________________

They spend the morning ignoring their rumbling stomachs and parched mouths. Buck tries hoisting Eddie as high as he can, trying to lift him high enough that he has something to grip onto, to pull himself to safety so that he can call for help. They try. Again, and again, and again.

“Let’s just… give it a rest for now, okay?” Eddie says, his arms and legs shaking with exertion.

“Fine,” Eddie hears Buck’s clipped tone, and he tries not to grimace. He knows that Buck doesn’t want to quit, doesn’t want to give up. That’s just who Buck is, a fighter. But he’s physically hurting, Eddie can see it. He needs him to take a break. “It’s only gonna get harder, the longer we’re out here.”

“I know,” Eddie says quietly. “Just a couple minutes, please.” He reaches out for Buck’s hand, the heat of the sun hot against his sweaty back. “Please.” Buck’s shoulders sag slightly, but he nods. Eddie sits down on the ground, gently grasping Buck’s hand.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Buck says after a minute, and, if they weren’t in such a dire situation, Eddie would smile. Because that’s forever Buck, trying to learn something new.

“You know more about most things than I do,” Eddie says after a minute, gently bumping Buck’s shoulder with his own.

“Useless knowledge, really,” Buck says. “But just think of one thing...two if you want to be the overachiever that I know you are.”

“Okay, two things,” Eddie murmurs, his aching hand gently gripping Buck’s.

“You’re the most selfless person that I know,” he pauses, fingertips tracing a pattern on the back of Buck’s hand. “I know you say that you make everything about you, but you don’t. You-you love harder than anyone else. You put yourself in danger to make sure everyone else is okay. You did it during the tsunami, with Chris. You did it yesterday,” his voice shakes, “for me.”

“Eddie, I’m not—”

“Don’t ever do that again.”

Quiet falls over them, as they look out at the scenic view in front of them. He knows his heavy words aren’t what Buck was looking for, but he needs to be heard. Needs him to understand his importance, that he has a place. Not just as a firefighter, but as Buck. Minutes pass and Eddie gently tugs Buck’s hand closer, into his lap.

“And, number two? It’s illegal to milk someone else’s cow in Texas.”

Buck rolls his eyes and a laugh slips past his lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

Laughter washes over Eddie, it’s been an entire day since he laughed, but his laughter is contagious. “I couldn’t make something that stupid up if I tried, man.” Their hands slot together carefully and Eddie’s eyes slip closed. He takes the time to listen to Buck breathing beside him, committing to memory the pattern of each breath instead of focusing on uncertainty. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Shhhh,” Buck shushes him loudly, holding a finger to his lips. Eddie rolls his eyes, tempted to smack Buck on the back of the head. But it’s the silence that allows Eddie to hear something, too. Noise from above.

Hikers.

They’re both on their feet in an instant. “HEY! We’re down here!” They shout and it’s a few tense moments before they see a couple of hikers peer over the edge.

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, Eddie feels like he can finally breathe again.

______________________________

It’s been nearly a week since they were rescued. After they finally made it to safety, Eddie barely left Buck’s side for the first few days. He wanted to make sure that he was okay, and those few days after had been a little tense to say the least. Buck had kissed him, and Eddie kissed him back. But that was when they weren’t sure if they were going to make it out alive or not. Things were different now, Eddie understood that.

Life and death situations, they make people do crazy things.

Buck steps into the kitchen where Eddie is pulling things out of the fridge. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m making us lunch, before we meet the bus to get Chris. He’s gonna want you there,” Eddie pauses, “I mean, unless you had other plans?”

“No, no I definitely want to be there,” Buck chuckles, looking at Eddie closely and his lips remain turned up in an amused smirk. “It’s just… we narrowly escaped dying a few days ago, I’d rather not tempt fate again.” The asshole .

“Buck,” Eddie narrows his eyes in warning, setting down the ingredients on the counter.

Buck holds up his hands in surrender. And dammit, despite the fact that he’s making a mockery out of Eddie’s ability to cook, he wants nothing more than to push Buck against the refrigerator and taste his lips again.

He considers swallowing the feeling, pushing it back down where it can’t be seen. But then he remembers the swell of panic he felt when the probability of losing Buck was high. The idea of overstepping, the repercussions of making assumptions seem a little smaller now, less intimidating.

Buck’s looking at him with a curious expression on his face, and Eddie closes in the distance between them with a few long strides. “I’m probably gonna regret this,” Eddie mutters, one hand resting against Buck’s chest and pushing him backward until he’s pressed against the fridge. Eddie’s other hand cups his cheek, thumb brushing tenderly against his jawline as his lips ghost over Buck’s, not quite touching.

Buck’s face tips down, blue eyes dancing with mirth find his amber ones, “I’m gonna regret it if you don’t kiss me already. Do I need to almost die for you to do it? I’m sure I can-”

“Shut up,” Eddie growls, pressing his hips forward into Buck’s like a warning. He feels Buck’s breath hitch and the corner of Eddie’s lip turns up at the result. His lips brush against Buck’s, slow and teasing. He nips at Buck’s bottom lip, then kisses the corner of his mouth tenderly before pulling back.

“Better get busy.”

“I’m sorry. Wh-what?” Buck stutters, a hazy expression clouding his features as he tries to process Eddie’s words.

“Better get busy making lunch. Since you don’t want to die today,” Eddie grins, a small feeling of satisfaction settling over him, stemming from the realization that he caused the dazed look on Buck’s face. He flashes a bright smile in turn, and it reaches his eyes this time. Eddie looks at him fondly, silently intertwining their fingers, as his heart swells.

Finally, on the afternoon before Christopher returns from sleep away camp, Eddie finds the fun that his son had been wishing him all along.

#buddiefirstkiss #firstkissweek2020 #buddie #first kiss #prompt: they think they're going to die #evan buckley #eddie diaz #my writing

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bakubitch-minusultra · 3 years

Text

Not Alone: Chapter Twelve

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P

-> Word Count: 4.2k

-> Warnings: talk abt breeder farms, cooking/killing a bunny lol

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat @zphilophobiaz

People pass by Y/n, becoming a sea of faces. All she could think was how she would get Mina back too. She would do anything to get Mina back. It seemed that it had become her centennial project. She wondered if she would ever just have the people who had become her new family all together, or would she die still looking for one.

“Where did they take her?” Y/n asked again. The huge boys hug and mess with each other’s hair. She wanted to shout but Bakugo saved her the trouble.

He looked around, “Where’s Mina?”

“Hunters got her two days ago. She went looking for Y/n and I heard her screaming at the edge of the field. I couldn’t run. They took her in a truck.”

“I’m so sorry Kirishima.”

He shook his head, “Y/n you went for food after you went for medicine to save me. None of this is your fault. We’ll get her back.” He looked at Bakugo and smiled. “I can’t believe you’re alive man.”

Bakugo ruffled Kirishima’s hair again, “You too shitty hair. You should have died a long time ago with your survival skills.”

Kirishima laughed, “Mina.”

“We need to get her back shitty hair.”

Kirishima nodded. Y/n couldn’t pretend that everything was warm and fuzzy.

She shoved him, “So how did you end up here? Why didn’t you stay at the farmhouse in the barn bunker?”

“I tried to go after them. I went over the hill and broke the branches like you told me. I knew you’d find me.” He shook his head at Bakugo. “She’s like a fucking terminator.”

Bakugo laughed, “I know.”

Kirishima fixed his hair, “Anyway, I came here yesterday. They all know you Bakugo.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I made friends at camp shitty hair.”

Y/n hated the way he called him shitty hair. She hated Bakugo in a horrid way. She wished he was at the breeder camp instead of Mina. Him and his girlfriend in the shorts. They have their mini reunion. She turned away and walked to the nearest small tent. She looked in the flap. A younger looking guy was asleep inside. Half his face was burnt. She walked from one small tent to the next, until she found one with a man with blond hair holding a pen and looking at a map that was spread across a table.

“Are you Monoma?” He nodded, but looked at Y/n suspiciously. “I need to know where the closest breeder camp is.”

He chuckled, “You aren’t thinking about volunteering are you? The food’s not that bad here.” She doesnt laugh, instead she looked at the map. She didn’t know how to read maps. She added it to the list of things her father should’ve taught her.

“My friend was taken. I need her back.”

He started laughing again, “What do you plan on doing?”

She looked up into his periwinkle blue eyes and stare him down, “I’m going to get her back.”

“Look, I get you’re upset but there is no getting them back. They go in and nine years later they get a nice house in the city. It’s not a baf gig. They get healthy food and a place to sleep. Your life here is harder.” She felt her face change. He put his hands up defensively, “Look we have bigger fish to fry than worry about one girl at a breeder farm.” He turned his back on her and looked at the wall of the tent where other maps were hung. She felt her fingers twitch. She wanted to pull an arrow. She left the tent disheartened and lost.

“Y/n where’d you go?”

She looked up at Bakugo and Kirishima walking toward her. She scrunched up her face and walked away from them both. She didn’t know how to be dramatic. She felt the need burning inside of her, but she didn’t physically know how to get angry without using her hands. She walked to a group of ladies who were standing around a fire.

She smiled sweetly and looked at the one who looked most like her mother did, “Hi.”

“Hi sweetie.” The rebellion people were nice.

“Do you know where the nearest breeder camp is?”

She frowned, “Yeah.” She looked over at a dark strawberry blonde who had a scar along her mouth, “Beth where was that camp that you all saw not far from here?”

“South east, over two small mountains and a ghost town. Used to be a place called Licoln there. Stay on the outskirts of that place.”

“Thanks so much.”

“You aren’t trying to go there, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, “No way. Just wanted to know where my friend went. Her nine years is almost up.”

The lady with the scar laughed bitterly, “Honey she aint coming back out here to shit in a ditch. She’ll get herself a nice place in the city. I hear they even got air conditioning again.”

A lady with a t-shirt with a big tongue on it laughed, “Oh girl, what I would do for air conditioning.” They all laughed and it made Y/n grin. She walked away from them and went back to the small tent. The man looked less than pleased to see that she was there.

“Really, you’re back again. Look I’m not sending a bunch of men to their death over some girl.”

“I’m not asking you for a thing. I just want to see the map.”

He held his arm out at the one on the table, “Have at it.” She looked at the compass on the map.

“Where are we?” He dropped a finger onto the map next to a blue line. She dragged her finger southeast to the place that said Licoln. She looked up at him, “Which way is south east from here?” He pointed to the back of the tent where the other maps were. He was blocking her view of them on purpose. “Thanks.” She started to walk in the direction he had told her.

Her quiver wasn’t very full. Normally she would make arrows once a month but she hadn’t had a chance in the last month. Nothing had been the way it would have been back at the cabin. She thought about the moment she stood at the door as Mina knocked outside of it. She remembered the regret. She saw Kirishima and Bakugo and started to walk faster. She didn’t know what to say, but running away from them seemed like a pretty good idea. Kirishima still has a limp, but they move quickly.

“Y/n wait up,” Kirishima shouted. She wanted to be alone. It figured the only boys she’s ever liked had to be friends. Her mom would have been proud. She too had a thing for friends.

Fingers bit into Y/n’s arm and spun her around.

Bakugo towered over her, “What are you doing?” He looked annoyed.

She pulled her arm away from him, “I’m going to find her.” She looked at Kirishima, “Stay here and get better. That leg isn’t going to heal with you walking around so much.” He looked hurt.

Bakugo grabbed her arm again, “Y/n we aren’t going to let you run off half cocked. We need a plan.” She felt angry, maybe it was because she liked them both or maybe it was because they’re not running after Mina, like she expected they would.

She glared at Kirishima, “When you fell in that holse she did the bravest thing I have ever seen anyone do. She told me that she didn’t care if I shot her but I had to come find you.”

He shook his head, “We need a plan.”

She pointed south, “There’s a three day hike, we can plan on the way.”

Bakugo’s grip on her arm tightened, “We’ll be down a mountain and in the woods alone with no resources when we find her. What plan can you come up with there?”

Y/n shook her head again, “I’ve made it this far without anyone.” She pulled her arm free and took a step back, “I don’t need either of you.” She felt something in her stomach. She should’ve grabbed food. She started her hike. She realized she not only had a plan but that she was starving. She heard their footsteps behind her.

“She’s really stubborn.” Kirishima tried to whisper, but Y/n could hear him.

“I noticed that. How’s the leg?” Y/n made a face but didn’t look back at them.

“Good. She did surgery on it. I don’t think I’ll ever win the Boston Marathon if it comes back in style.” Bakugo snorted, Y/n wanted to laugh, but she was pissed off.

“Mina been a handful?”

Kirishima laughed, “Oh my god. The year she started the road to womanhood was the beginning of the end. Oh my god it was so bad.”

Y/n felt her face flush with heat. She remembered getting her first period and cringed. She had thought she was dying for a few days. She had to read an encyclopedia on health in order to find the answers she had been looking for. She made rags and stayed indoors. She rubbed clary sage oil on her stomach for the cramping and put warm compresses on her stomach. It was the first thing she added to the list of things he should have told her about. Being twelve and alone in the forest was daunting. Bleeding every month for no reason was much worse.

She realized how far ahead of them she was when she came out of her daydream and couldn’t hear them. She looked back. They were laughing and walking like it was a stroll in the park. She glanced up in the trees to see the guard strategically placed. She knew they were still safe from the others but she couldn’t imagine laughing and joking and catching up the way they were.

She walked faster. She missed the silence and uncomplicated days of traveling with Hades. He would hunt and they would touch each other every now and again but neither of them needed to make a sound. She looked back at Kirishima and noticed the way he lumbered through the woods and let out a sigh. The bottom of the mountain led to a valley and she climbed a tree and sat on a sturdy branch.

“What do you see?”

“A highway. There’re cars on it, they’re burned.” It frightened Y/n. Scavengers were always nearest to the old remains. She stayed away from the remains.

“Do you see movement?”

She shook her head but narrowed her eyes to improve her vision. The infected had a way of not moving when you needed them to. The sun was going down and she wanted to scross the highway and be halfway up the next mountain before it’s completely dark. She climbed down the tree and tried not to look at either of the hulking men standing next to her.

She pulled an arrow and crouched low to the ground. She shut her mind off. She tried not to think when she was scared shitless.

She could hear Kirishima walking behind her, no doubt completely upright and picking his teeth with a piece of grass. Y/n decided to shoot him herself if he started to hum. The grass on the side of the highway was long. As she slipped through it the wind played with it, making it whisper. The birds here were not the kind who warn you of prey, they were scavengers. They wanted you to die.

The long grass swayed and played with her hair. Her heart was beating faster when her foot touched the gravel on the side of the highway.

She looked back at Bakugo and he nods. Kirishima’s lips curled into a smile. She couldn’t help but want to smile with him. She saw herself back at the cabin for the briefest of seconds. Images of her and him laying on the couch filled her mind. She smiled remembering the way they tried not to get caught staring at each other.

Her mind snapped back.

She closed her eyes and listened to the wind. There was no sound. She climbed out of the huge ditch and walked quickly and silently up onto the broken asphalt. It had started to crack from the weather and lack of care. Where her foot stepped first it crumbled. Her eyes scanned every inch of the deserted highway. Burned out cars sat staggered along the long straight road. The people caught in the traffic jams when the tidal waves were coming or the bombs were dropping to contain the sick. They fled from their vehicles. They left everything and ran. She remembered running.

She shook her head back to focusing. She slipped between an old burnt SUV and the skeleton of a small car. The hood of the car was lifted and the battery was gone. Not uncommon.

��Which way?” Kirishima asked louder than Y/n would’ve liked.

“Shhhh.”

The gravel on the other side was a welcomed sight. When her feet touched the grass she broke into a run. The bushes hit her in the face when she entered the forest. She ran until shesaw the tree she wanted. She climbed it and sat with her arrow pulled and at the ready. She scanned the highway and the ditch vigorously.

Kirishima was huffing and panting while he rested below the tree.

“Oh man you can run. Holy shit. I thought your leg was hurt. Whoa.”

“Kirishima.” Bakugo was back to being Business Bakugo. There was no fun with him, only survival. She didn’t take her eyes off the road. Nothing moved. She was about to climb down but she waited one more second. She saw the bushes across the move and pulled the arrow tighter. It looked like an animal but she couldn’t see clearly.

“I see something,” she said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Animal. Dog maybe.”

“Shit.” She looked down through the thick branches at Bakugo’s;ook and raised an eyebrow. “Trackers.”

He doesn’t finish the sentence and her eyes scanned across the highway again. The animal was gone. Nothing moved. She climbed down fast and turned to face the dense woods.

“That way.”

Kirishima looked pained, “Seriously? We’re going to run some more?”

She looked at him and nodded, “Think about what it’s like for Mina now. She’s terrified. She thinks the breeder camps are what we all think. She is waiting for her turn no doubt.”

He flinched, “Jesus Y/n. Easy on the visuals. She’s my friend for christ’s sake. I’m not bitching, my leg is just killing me.”

Y/n glared, “Is it bleeding?”

“No but it hurts.”

“Climb the tree and wait for us,” She handed him a water bottle from her belt. But Kirishima shook his head and looked at Bakugo who’s face was stoic

“Bakugo I’m not staying.”

Bakugo licked his lips and thought for a second, “You can’t hold us up.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes and sighed, “Let’s just go.”

Y/n held the water bottle out for one more second but he didn’t take her up on the offer. She turned and started to run. Her leg was sore and her stomach was empty. In her haste she never stocked up. Mina had been hard on her rules.

When the sun had started to set they were where Y/n wanted to be. Kirishima hadn’t complained and Bakugo was starting a small fire. She took her bow and found a nice quiet spot to sit and wait for something to make a sound.

The silence of the woods was alarming. She had never been in the woods here. She was exhausted but she stayed focused.

She heard the crunch of a stick and raised her arrow in the direction she heard it in. A large hare hopped over a branch and sniffed the wind. It’s ears twitched and Y/n knew that it had smelled her. She released the arrow, anticipating the hop it would do. The arrow slices through the neck of the rabbit. It tried to move for a second and then stopped. She gutted the hare where she killed it. She never brought it back with its guts. Leaving guts outside the cabin proved to be a mistake. She skinned it quickly with the skinning knife she kept and left the animal’sremains and carried the carcass to the fire.

She heard the cracking of wood when she got close. Bakugo was standing over the fire and Kirishima was sitting on a log next to him.

“So is there something between you two?” Bakugo asked but didn’t move his face.

Kirishima shrugged, “I don’t know. She’s a tough one to get to know. We kissed but it was a mistake.”

Bakugo looked at him and smiled, “I hear that. You remember the Laura Croft movies where Angelina Jolie was all hot and quiet but would kill anything that moved?”

Kirishima laughed, “Yeah. Exactly. Jesus, give her some pouty lips and bam. Laura Croft.”

Y/n felt her insides trembling. She didn’t remember the movies they were talking about. She couldn’t help but want to cry.

Bakugo laughed and shook his head, “But what a bitch though hey.”

She grabbed a rock from where she was standing and tossed it back a few yards. They couldn’t see her if she crouched.

“She’s back. Manners.” Bakugo spoke low and started poking the fire. She stood and walked from the bushes. She just wanted to throw the stupid hare down and leave them there, but her stomach was growling. She was exhausted. She would stay as long as it would take to eat and then she would be sleeping in a tree. Maybe if she was lucky she would fall in her sleep and wake up in hell.

Bakugo held out a small sack, “I have some potatoes from the camp and tinfoil.”

She nodded, “Okay.” She felt awkward. Kissing both of them was obviously bad, but having them call her a bitch after they kissed her was awful. Having Kirishima say it was a mistake was killing her. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. She walked around him and found a good stick to make a spit with.

She searched the ground around the fire until she found a good branch. She stripped the small branches and leaves from it. She smirked and shoved the stick into the open neck. She was imagining it was one of them.

“You’re a scary little thing.” She frowned at Kirishima who was watching her get the hare on the spit. “It’s a compliment.” She didn’t stop frowning. It didn’t feel like a complement. Even if it was, it wouldn’t stop the pain of the kiss being a mistake.

She built a spit with rocks and branches and twine from her backpack. Bakugo sliced the potatoes and laid them in the tinfoil. He placed them high on a rock with a flat surface in the fires circle of rocks.

Bakugo glanced at her, “So what’s to plan?”

“Get captured and free us both.” He laughed at Y/n. “I can do it.”

He shook his head, “I know you can, it's just funny that’s all. You’re willing to sacrifice yourself to save my friend?”

“She’s the only person I’ve met that I liked. Genuinely.” It was a stab at them both. Fuck them.

He raised his eyebrows, “Fair enough.” He looked hurt. The image of the girl in the short shorts didn’t leave her mind easily.

Kirishima looked hurt, “What am I, chopped liver?” Y/n smiled. She hated that she was smiling. She hated that he made her smile so easily. He grinned at her and she remembered his hands on her. She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. It made her feel sick.

Bakugo cleared his throat, “So how’ll you get captured?”

She shrugged, “Just act lost near the area.” She glanced at Kirishima who was still staring at her. His grin hadn’t left his face. She dug her stick in the dirt and drew a circle. She hit a rock and dirt went flying up at Kirishima’s face on his stump.

She laughed as he wipped his face clean, “Thanks.”

Bakugo laughed, “Stop being a baby.”

Kirishima shook the dirt out of his hair, “You did that on purpose.”

She put her hands up with the stick in them, “I didn’t, I swear.” She wish she had.

“I don’t think you shouldgo there, Y/n.”

She dug with the stick again, “I have to.” She didn’t say that she led them straight to Mina. She doesn’t say that it was all her fault. She didn’t have to. They all knew it was true. Bakugo turned the hare on the spit slowly. The smells were starting to make her stomach make noises she hadn’t heard since before she found the cabin.

Bakugo looked around, “When you get captured you need a way out.” He got up from the fire and muttered, “Kiri turn the hare.” He went to a tree and ripped off a branch. He sat next to Y/n on the log. The warmth of his body was touching her and it was setting her nerves on fire.

He bent down and drew a rectangle. In each of the corners he made small boxes, “There is a section that is for the women who are pregnant or about to be impregnated. This is probably where you'll go. Then this wing is for the younger girl who can't have babies yet. This is for the women with the babies. This is where the little girls are kept. Girls they raise to be breeders." He moved the stick to the other side and made a smaller box, "This is where the men are, if there are any men. Sometimes they don’t have any there." He cleared his throat nervously and drew an X in the middle but off to one side, "This is the fertility lab. This is where the lab coats and doctors and cleaners all stay. This is your only chance. They will have a dump somewhere near the clinic. The garbage goes every few days."

She frowned at him but Kirishima asked the question burning in her mind before she could, “Dude how do you know so much about the breeder farmer?”

Bakugo blushed in the firelight, “I lived there for a time.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, “As a cleaner or a doctor?” He laughed like he knew the answer.

Bakugo laughed, “I wish.”

Kirishim shook his head, “Nasty bro. Nasty.”

Y/n felt lost. She looked blankly at them both. Bakugo’s face looked like it was on fire.

“I was forced to um… donate.” Y/n didn’t understand what they were talking about.”

Kirishima started to make an odd motion with his fist, “He had to jerk his chiken for the big men.” She didn’t know what that meant but she nodded before they explained. Bakugo looked at her face and laughed.

Kirishima turned the hare, “So how many little Bakugo’s are running around?” Y/n felt her stomach drop. She understood. She felt judgment burn its way across her face.

“I wasn’t exactly in on the plans.”

Kirishima poked the hare, “How was life there?”

Bakugo snorted, “Thinking about signing up?”

Kirishima looked up, “Hey if there are three square meals a day and I get all the, um, reading material I need to deliver the goods, I’m in.”

The humor fell from Bakugo’s face. He almost twitched when he shook his head, “No. No three meals and material shitty hair. It’s more like milking a cow.”

Kirishima ignored the terror on his friend's face and grinned ear to ear, “Are there milk maids?”

Bakugo nodded, “Not the kind you’re thinking of. Mine was a guy named Dr. Stevie.”

Kirishima gagged, “Oh shit never mind.”

Bakugo looked down at the drawing again and chuckled, but Y/n could tell he was haunted by it.

“There’s no human contact Kirishima. It’s all done by machines, the girls and the boys. Anyway this section here has the surgeon’s clothes and boots. Change and climb into the garbage bin in the morning on a Tuesday or a Thursday or a Saturuday. The garbage comes around lunch and the best chance you have at not being noticed is then. They’ll be looking for you after lunch.”

Y/n felt sick thinking about the plan. She was not as strong as the look on her face suggests she is.

“I think it’s done,” Kirishima poked the hare.

Y/n shook her head, “Always over cook wild animals.”

Bakugo nudged her with his body, almost playfully, “You sure about this?”

She nodded and reached into the flames to turn the potatoes. The fire licked at her skin but she ignored it. It hurt. It was a warning of pain to come if she continued to stick her hands in the fire. Sitting between two men she couldn’t help but feel like it was appropriate.

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butwhatifyouwrite · 4 years

Text

To The Castle

This is the next installment in Lila’s story. I will make a masterlist for her story soon! This is for @whumptober2020 day 11 for the prompt Sleep Deprivation.

cw: sleep deprivation, self deprivation, war mentions, mention of death and killing (in the context of war)

Sleep Deprivation Whumptober #23

They had barely made it back through the portal Jale had created before it closed. It’s a good thing they did because Lila didn’t think Nova had the strength left to open another one. Yeah, cause I know so much about opening portals. She thought.

The world Lila was dropped into was unlike anything she could have ever imagined. People wore clothes that seemed to come straight out of a medieval story book and a sci-fi movie all at once. Brick and wood buildings made up the small village they had dropped into. People still traveled by horseback. Is it still if I didn’t really go back in time? For really, she had jumped to a new world all together.

She and Nova traveled on foot for a short while, making their way just outside the small village to an army encampment.

“We’ve been fighting the war against Jale’s forces for 15 years now. The people need hope.” Nova explained.

“I just don’t understand how I fit into that.” Lila replied.

“You will.” Nova said simply, and clearly choosing not to elaborate.

They make their way into the army encampment and towards the largest tent at the back. Lila can’t help but look around with a strange sense of awe and dread mixing in her blood. This is the strangest fucking thing ever. And yet, she can’t help but feel a pull to keep moving, to see more, to understand.

Nova stops just in front of the entrance to the tent and holds a hand out, stopping Lila. “I’ll be right back, stay here.” He says, then ducks into the tent.

Lila hesitates for a moment. What if I don’t want to wait outside? She makes a decision and ducks into the tent after Nova.

Two other men and a woman stand in the tent. Nova is talking in hushed tones with them. They all go silent when Lila enters and all eyes fall on her. There is an uncomfortable silence for a moment before the woman breaks it. “This is her, then?” She says. Her voice isn’t cold, but there isn’t much warmth to it either. She sounds calculating… She sounds tired.

“Yes, this is her.” Nova responds curtly. He shoots her a look as if to say I told you to wait outside. Lila ignores the look and turns to the woman, smiling.

“Hi, I’m Lila.” She says, sounding braver then she feels in the moment. What else am I supposed to do? Stand there awkwardly while everyone else talks about me?

“I’m Sarina. This is Fitz and Milo.” The woman replies, indicating the two other men in the tent. They nod in acknowledgement as she says their names.

“Sarina is the General in this camp.” Nova says nervously. It’s clear the general intimidates him. Hell, she intimidates me.

“Nova was just saying you needed a couple of horses for the journey to the castle. It’s about a five days ride from here.” Sarina says, looking over Lila as she speaks. She pauses for a moment, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know anything about that. I’m just…” Lila trails off. What am I doing here? “Along for the ride.” She finishes.

“I see.” Sarina says, looking back over to Nova. “You’re absolutely certain, Nova?”

“Yes… ma’am. I’m certain.” He replies, his voice cracking.

Sarina pauses for a moment, considering the situation. “Very well then. Head to the stables and take two horses. Gather the supplies you will need. You had best move quickly though, it’s almost sundown.”

“Y-yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.” Nova says hurriedly. He turns in a half bow then hurries from the tent, Lila right on his heels.

“What was that about?” She asks briskly.

“What was what about?” He replies.

“Sarina wanting to know if you were certain. And the odd way she kept staring at me. I know you must have noticed that.”

“I’ll explain later. For now we need to get moving.” He turns, heading for the stables without saying another word.

****

They’ve been riding for what feels like forever, but must only be a few hours. The movies never tell you how much a saddle makes your ass hurt. The sun has sunk down and night time darkness has taken over. Shadows fall in strange ways and the slightest movement catches Lila’s eye as they ride. This is such a strange place.

The first little bit out of the camp had been rough. It had taken a little while for Lila to find her seat on her horse, a gorgeous black mare named Shadow. She had more or less found her seat now, but her ass is going numb from sitting in the saddle, and she is tired. Holy shit is she tired. It has been a long day. She spurs her horse on some to catch up with Nova. Once the two are side by side she speaks.

“Can we stop for a minute? I need a break from the saddle.”

He sighs and looks up at the sky for a moment before answering. “That’s a good idea. Let’s make it to those trees, and then camp for a bit. I’m sure some sleep would do you good.”

“You need sleep too.” Lila says softly. Nova doesn’t reply.

They make it to the trees and Nova dismounts, wincing as it jars his bruised body. Lila gets down, much less gracefully and stretches, trying to loosen her stiff body.

They move quietly setting up a small camp. It’s mostly Nova doing things while trying to coach Lila through the smaller tasks. She does her best but her movements are clumsy and the dark makes everything harder. Finally they have a small camp set up with a small fire for warmth. Nova hands her some food and they settle in. Her eyes begin to get heavier with food in her stomach and Nova notices.

“Get some rest. I’ll keep watch first.” He says.

“M’kay.” Lila replies sleepily. She settles down on her bedding, to tired to care about the fact she is sleeping on the ground or to worry about what else might be in the area. She closes her eyes and within minutes she is asleep.

She wakes to someone gently shaking her shoulder. She opens her eyes groggily, taking in her surroundings and trying to make sense of what she is seeing. Events from the day before come rushing back as she sits up. Nova’s face swims into view. “’s it my turn t’ keep watch?” She mumbles sleepily.

“Nah, I let you sleep last night. You needed it. We need to get moving though. We still have quite a ways to ride.”

Lila sits up all the way stretching and trying to rub the sleep from her eyes. She stands, moving over to Shadow and taking a canteen from her saddle. She takes a drink and looks around, getting a better view of her surroundings.

They are in a little crop of trees at the edge of a valley. The sun is barely up and there is a light mist hanging in the air. It’s really beautiful here.

They eat a quick breakfast, then pack up camp and head out once more. Nova estimates they are about four days from the castle if they can keep up a good pace. The day passes in a blur of riding and quick breaks, sometimes to get the horses water sometimes to get themselves water or food. Then, once again, night falls and after a short stretch of riding in the dark, they stop and make camp.

Once again Nova takes the first watch. Once again, Lila is too tired to argue, but she makes him promise to wake her for a watch shift this time. He does, just before dawn, telling her to wake him when the sun reaches just above a nearby ridge.

She sits quietly in the early stillness. She would have thought the dark wilderness would scare her, but there is a power there and peace that she drinks in. It is so different from the rushing, manic cities she has been used to all her life.

All to soon the sun makes it ’s way into the sky. The sky lights up in the most brilliant sunrise Lila has ever seen. The sky starts a vibrant purple, which softens into pinks and oranges and then finally a pale blue takes over as the sun makes its way over the ridge. Nova can’t have been sleeping for more than an hour maybe two and she hates to wake him, but he was adamant with his instructions. So, Lila make her way to his side and gently shakes him awake.

He starts, then rolls to his side, grimacing slightly and wincing as he sits up. “G’morning.” He mumbles.

“I didn’t want to wake you, you need rest but-” Lila starts.

“I’m good,” Nova protests. “We need to get going anyway.”

Lila wants to argue. To tell him to go back to sleep, to rest. But a thought tickles at the back of her mind. What would I do if we were attacked? I don’t know how to fight. I don’t even know where I am. She shakes the thoughts off and helps pack the camp up.

They head off again, each day bringing them closer and closer to the supposed safety of the castle. Nova talks along the way. Telling Lila about the war with Jale. How it started because one man wanted more power than it should be possible to have. How one man sought power in every form he could get it and has been reigning terror on the lands ever since. How a prophecy had been written about a foreigner who could stop him, someone from another world. Me, he means me. Lila’s stomach flips at the though.

The castle they were heading to belongs to Queen Alya, one of the few rulers still fighting against Jale’s encroachment. Many had long since given up, or been killed. Nova was certain she would know what to do next. And so, they rode on.

Another night falls and again Nova lets Lila sleep first. Again he doesn’t wake her until it is time to pack up camp. The self deprivation of sleep is starting to show. His movements are slower and more clumsy. His sentences often come out half formed. It takes him much longer to make decisions and every so often Lila can swear he looks like he is going to fall right off his horse.

Her protests go unanswered. He insists he is better at keeping watch. He knows how to fight. He must keep her safe. He says they are close to the castle, just another day. He will be fine.

Finally the castle comes into view. It’s barely a blurry hallucination on the horizon to start but slowly it grows getting closer and closer until they are riding through its grand gates. Nova hasn’t slept more than an hour or two in five days. He is slumped on his horse, barley holding his head up to guide his horse forward. He stumbles heavily as he dismounts.

He leads Lila inside, swaying on his feet. They make their way to meet the queen.

#whumptober2020 #no.23 #sleep deprivation #OC #fic #sleep deprivation tw #self deprivation tw #mentions of war tw #mention of death tw #mention of killing tw #seriously though #if you've never ridden a horse #saddles are not as comfortable as they look

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kriscme · 3 years

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One Life to Live

Hi, sorry for the delay if you’re following this story on Tumblr. The chapters that have been put on AO3 have at last caught up with the chapters here. New chapters will go up weekly from hence on. You might find it easier to read on AO3 though. I’d link if I knew how. I’m Kris22 over there.

As always thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn‘t Take” available on AO3 and FanFiction. Chapter 30 “Marcus presents well on TV, doesn’t he? You wouldn’t guess how much he hates it.” My hand stills as I focus on the screen and Buttercup nudges his head beneath my palm in protest. I absently go back to scratching him behind the ears and his chest rumbles in contentment. “Yeah, well, you soon learn to fake it,” replies Johanna from the other end of the sofa. “You should know that better than anyone.” “Yeah,” I say. Fake or not fake, real or not real, on television who can tell the difference? “That’s where Gale and I used to meet to go hunting,” I tell her. Cressida had Marcus stand with his back to the valley, using the mountains in the distance as backdrop. The sun was directly behind him and it shone through his golden-brown hair and set it aflame as if it were a halo. Man-on-fire, I can almost hear Cinna say. He’s the darling of the media now. I don’t envy him. I nervously wait for the moment Cressida interrupted the interview to ask me how I feel about a national park but it’s like it didn’t happen. It’s been edited so seamlessly that no one would guess there’d been a break in the dialogue between Marcus and herself. True to her word, there’s not even the slightest glimpse or mention of me anywhere. And nothing either in the separate feature she did on District 12 that had aired immediately before.

I let out my breath in a long exhale and feel the tension ebb from my muscles. I imagine Marcus in District 13 having the same reaction. We felt sure that if there were any compromising footage it would come out either before the interview was broadcast or during. And apart from that . . . um . . . incident in the woods, what else could they have on us? Only that Marcus was a guest in my house but that was a very reasonable arrangement given the circumstances. Otherwise, it was all very circumspect. No public displays of affection, no chaining naked to trees, no fights with logging companies. Only Johanna knew the extent of our relationship, and I doubt she’d have told anyone. Peeta’s engagement to Lace would have made a juicy story, but thankfully he’s protected, having done nothing to attract publicity to himself – either through his own actions or through association with another. “Looks like you’ve dodged a bullet,” says Johanna. She reaches for the remote to switch off the television and then settles back onto the sofa. A plate of Peeta-made cookies is on the coffee table delicately iced in Peeta’s signature style. She takes one and scrapes off the icing with her teeth. Johanna likes the icing best. If you let her, you’d end up with a plate of cookies that look as if mice had been at them. “It would seem so,” I reply. I wish I could feel more certain, but if I’ve learned anything from my experiences is that life seldom is. In fact, feeling safe almost guarantees that you’re not. I forget to stroke Buttercup again, and tired of my erratic attention, he decides it’s time to move on. He drops to the floor and ambles over to his favorite lounge chair, tail swishing. He leaves behind a layer of cat hair on my dark green trousers. “I told you nothing would happen,” says Johanna. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the fantasy they’d put so much effort into perpetuating, would they? I stand naked against a tree for a good cause and the media goes berserk. You get caught shagging against a tree with the current golden boy and then nothing.” “You know that’s not true,” I say, exasperated that she still thinks like this. “Maybe at one time, when it would have made the Capitol look stupid if the truth came out, but not now. They’ve had no compunction giving Marcus bad publicity in the past so I can’t see why it would be different just because I’m involved. We were mistaken about what we heard that’s all, and then we let paranoia take over.”

I’d agonized over whether I should tell Marcus about Remus and the knowing look he gave me when I returned to camp. In the end, I decided that he should have all the information just in case he needed to be prepared. That was a mistake. Between Cressida’s return to the Capitol the following day and Marcus’s for District 13 a week later, our waking hours were spent alternating between optimism that we had nothing to worry about and then dread that we had everything to worry about. Marcus was petrified that another scandal would put his mission in jeopardy. As there’s no official mandate from the central government to establish national parks, he depends on the goodwill and co-operation of individual districts and a negative association with me – any association with me, actually – could have that support withdrawn. Especially in 13 where my name is anathema. For me, it was the terror of a media onslaught, that what had happened before could happen again – my private life no longer private but entertainment to be analyzed and exploited. That the careful re-building of my life as plain Katniss Everdeen would all come to naught. That it might impact on Peeta, who’s only just now finding himself after what Snow did to him. We had our first ever real argument. I told him it was his fault for breaking his own rule and luring me into a clandestine meeting with him for sex. And he said it was my fault for . . . he couldn’t quite articulate why it was my fault but it had something to do with being Katniss Everdeen. It seems if I’d been a nobody we could have fucked in the main street (his words) and while it would likely have had us arrested in 12 it wouldn’t have merited even the smallest mention in the Capitol. Because, you know, we’re just ignorant hayseeds and they are so much more sophisticated than we are and they have no morals (my words). Oh, and he wasn’t exactly a nobody either. In fact, that was the problem. We did calm down and apologize to each other and had make-up sex, which was nice, but it wasn’t how I imagined we’d be spending our final days together – tense, fearful, with each blaming the other for our predicament. It wasn’t until the night before he departed for 13 that we came to a mutual understanding. Neither of us were at fault. We were victims of our celebrity – a celebrity that neither of us had sought. Mine was thrust upon me, and his was a regrettable consequence of his life’s work. But I did tell him he was partly to blame. If he had been fifty, pot-bellied and bald instead of young, handsome and with eyes the color of maple-syrup that could melt any women’s heart, he wouldn’t attract a fraction of the media attention that he does. And then he told me that if I had been a scraggy, wrinkled old bat instead of young and nubile with eyes like silver moons and hair evocative of midnight, all the Games prowess in the world couldn’t have made me the cultural icon I’d become. We were just too good looking for own good. And then we laughed and had sex – playful, affectionate, I-want-to-remember-this-forever sex.

But the worry was still there when we lay in each other’s arms that night, and the next morning when we said our goodbyes. It was a bitter-sweet ending to what had been an unforgettable interlude but as I watched him pass through the Village gates for the last time, rucksack piled high, long legs in hiking boots striding purposely towards the next wilderness to be saved, I was struck by the rightness of it. It was how it was always going to end; how it always should have ended. Johanna tosses a denuded cookie back onto the plate and picks up a fresh one. She ignores the pained look I send her way. “Would you have gone with him?” she asks. “If you could?” I brush cat hairs from my trousers to give me a few seconds to think about it. I’d honestly never considered it since I can’t leave 12. But there was a time when I could have happily left everything behind and followed him around the country, hiking mountain trails and making love at every opportunity. It was at the concrete house by the lake, the morning after we’d made love for the first time and there weren’t enough superlatives in the world to describe how wonderful I thought he was, although now I find it hard to determine exactly what I did feel for him.

“No,” I say eventually. “Even if didn’t mean being in the public eye again, I still wouldn’t. We don’t want the same things.” I hesitate, wondering if I should say anything, but then blurt it out. “I don’t think I’m normal.” I brace for the sarcastic response I’m sure to get, but to my relief it doesn’t come. “None of us are,” she says grimly. “You don’t go through what we have and come out normal at the end of it.” She’s silent for a moment, but then rouses herself. “But if you want me to comment further, you’ll have to be more specific,” she adds. I sigh. I don’t know to explain it to myself, let alone to someone else. “Well, it’s about how I felt about Marcus. I mean, it wasn’t that long ago when I would have done almost anything for him. He made me feel so . . . so . . . “ “Turned on?” she smirks. I feel my face grow hot. I should have known the real Johanna couldn’t be too far from the surface. “Yes, but more than that. Wanted. Desirable. And we had so much in common too. But when he left, I didn’t feel much of anything. I should have been devastated, shouldn’t I?” “Rebound.”

“What?” “It was a rebound. It’s when you haven’t got over one relationship and you dive straight into another. Marcus gave you the validation that Peeta didn’t. It’s not so complicated. Pretty simple, in fact. Happens all the time.” “It does?” “Yep. It goes like this. You feel like shit because you’re still hung-up on your ex so you’re looking for a distraction – something or someone to make you feel better. So along comes Marcus who is clearly attracted and you transfer the feelings you don’t think Peeta wants on to him. Only it doesn’t last because it’s not based on anything real.” But some things were real. I really did like him, felt a connection with him, even. And I liked the sex, but maybe that’s just a physical thing. I haven’t been with enough men to know if it’s different when it’s with someone you truly love. “A rebound is bad then?” I ask. “Depends,” she says. She takes another cookie from the plate. “Has it made you feel better or worse? And then there’s the person on the other end of it. It’s generally considered not fair to them. But, if you had to pick the ideal man to have a rebound with, you couldn’t have done better than Marcus. I told you at the beginning– one track mind. Nothing competes with saving the forests for him.” Gale. He was like that. The cause is more important than any relationship. As soon as Gale heard about the uprisings in the Districts, he no longer wanted to escape with me into the woods when just minutes before, he’d been so keen. But Peeta, he would have gone with me, even though he knew it was a bad idea. “He told me he doesn’t keep girlfriends for very long. I guess that’s why,” I say. He’d also have figured out what a liability I’d be to him. And I certainly wouldn’t want the kind of life a relationship with him would entail. That final week had been an eyeopener for us both. But at least it ended well, all things considered. I put out my hand for a cookie but change my mind when I can’t find one that hasn’t had the icing scraped off.

“You’re disgusting,” I tell her. But I can’t keep from laughing. It’s part amusement, part relief. No repercussions from that lapse of judgement in the woods and an explanation that makes sense to me about my feelings for Marcus. I feel a sudden rush of affection for the woman who’s helped me through this – and more besides. Once I compared her to an older sister who really hates you. I guess I have to revise it to an older sister who sometimes seems to hate you but really doesn’t, and you can always depend on to have your back. “I’m going to miss you,” I say. “Yeah, I know,” Johanna replies casually as if she were picking lint off a sweater. “But my reason for coming here in the first place was to help Marcus out and he’s gone. Peeta doesn’t need me anymore either. So even if I hadn’t been asked to, it still would have been time for me to go home.” “You’re going to be great mayor.” “Thanks, but I’m not mayor quite yet. I have to be elected first. It’s the way it’s done now.” Before the war, District mayors were appointed by the Capitol but now all governing roles are decided by vote. It’s the republic Plutarch had talked about, just like in the history books. The people elect their own representatives. “You’ll get it,” I say confidently. “They love you in 7. They wouldn’t have asked you to run, otherwise.” Who’d have guessed that Johanna would be destined to be Mayor of District 7, but when you think about it, it’s the perfect fit. She’ll bring passion, commitment and integrity to the role. And essential for a career in politics, a thick skin. “So, have you thought about what you’d like to do on your last night here and to celebrate your candidacy?” I ask. “How about drinks first at the pub and then dinner at that restaurant you like or maybe see a movie. Or we could do all three. Anything you like. “ “Anything I like?” she asks ominously. Images of pub crawls, strippers and naked sprints through the streets flash through my mind. “What I’d like is dinner with just the four of us. You, me, Peeta and Haymitch.” I groan. This is far, far worse. “You more than anyone know the circumstances – “ “I don’t care,” she says flatly. “Ever since I got here, I’ve been stuck between the two of you. Haymitch has too. Why don’t you think of other people for a change and how it affects them? You and Peeta are Haymitch’s family! What do you think it’s been like for him?” “He hasn’t said anything,” I say, on the defensive. “How can I know if – “

“It should be fucking obvious! How brainless can you get?” She gives me a look filled with contempt. I guess she’s back to being the older sister who hates you. I hadn’t considered it from Haymitch’s perspective. He’d have missed the dinners, I suppose, but it’s not as if they could continue forever. They were only intended to help us establish a routine. And besides, it was Peeta who showed the first signs of breaking from them. “It’s not like I started it.” As I say it, I realize how false that is. I was the one who put a complete stop to the dinners and made things awkward between Peeta and me. All because I couldn’t handle him being with Lace. “I don’t care who started it,” she says, but less angrily than before. “It’s time for it to stop. Is this how you’re going to live the rest of your lives? Forever trying to avoid being in the same place at the same time? You’re neighbors, for fuck’s sake. You’ve been in two Games and a war together. You don’t throw away a bond like that because he fucked another woman when his brain was mush. And now that you’ve fucked another man, you’re even. There’s nothing standing in your way now. So, what’s stopping you? It can’t be Lace. She’s gone.” Gone, but not forgotten. Not by me, and not by Peeta either. But Johanna does have a point. If Haymitch is a kind of father figure to us both, then that makes us his children. And having two children who don’t get along and won’t join in any family activities if the other is there too, can’t have been easy. For my own part, it has been a strain avoiding Peeta when we live so close, work similar hours, and have Haymitch in common. But it hasn’t been just me. Peeta stopped seeking me out like he used to when he found out that I’m in love him. Nothing about our situation has changed, Lace or no Lace. He stays away from me because he knows that I’m in love him and he feels bad that he can’t love me back. And I stay away from him because I know that he knows, and feel humiliated that he does. But if . . . “You’re right,” I say. “It is ridiculous. You make the arrangements and I’ll be there.” “And now that Marcus is out of the picture – “

She stops suddenly, confused. “You will?” “Yes. In fact, I can hardly wait. It’ll be fun.” I rise from the sofa to gather the cups and the plate of ruined cookies to signal that the visit is over. Johanna looks stunned as if she can’t believe how easy that victory was. She was probably all primed to go into battle and then it failed to materialize. How disappointing that must be.

“Oh, Johanna!” I call out cheerily just as she’s about to walk out the door. I’ve just remembered something Haymitch told me. “Maybe we should let Peeta do the cooking. He likes to do it. He’d always take over when we had our dinners.” If I have to do this thing, I at least want the food to be good. “Sure,” she says, still dazed. And then she’s gone. I wonder if Peeta has already agreed to it, or that she still has the job of guilting him into it too. I decide that it doesn’t matter either way. Peeta will be motivated by the same reasoning as me. The present situation can’t continue. It’s funny, in the way that’s weird rather than amusing, that mine and Peeta’s situation is now reversed. In the days following the Games and before we embarked on the Victory Tour, he avoided me for pretty much the same reasons I avoid him now. And, in turn, I avoided him for the same reason he avoids me. It’s the discomfort of being around someone whose feelings you don’t return. But there’s one crucial difference. Peeta had hope. I know that now from what Haymitch told Peeta before the prep teams arrived. He could afford to wear his heart on his sleeve knowing that there was a good chance that if I was given the space I needed, it was only a matter of time before I felt the same way. I have no hope. Therefore, my strategy will have to be different. This is about survival, not about capturing Peeta’s heart.

Peeta will have to believe that whatever I felt for him, I no longer do. That’s the only way we can be at ease with each other. I may never stop loving him, but I know how to bury my feelings so that they don’t show. I’ve had plenty of practice at it. After my father died. When I was reaped. When he started going out with Lace. I can do this. I can put on a show. I don’t even have to be good at it. In the Games, Peeta was convinced I was in love him because he wanted to believe it. So now I do the opposite and he’ll believe because he wants to believe. And if he can’t do that, he’ll pretend. We’re both very good at pretending. Chapter 31 Venia purses her lips at the state of my nails. “There’s not much I can do with these apart from a polish. If you want artificial nails, you’ll have to come back when Octavia’s here.” “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I mostly just wanted my hair trimmed.” The shape Flavius had cut into my hair has nearly all grown out. Working at the school during the week, and out in the woods with Marcus on the weekends hadn’t left much time for trips to the beauty salon. I ask, “Where’s Octavia? Not sick, I hope.”

It’s unusual not to see Octavia at her station, her auburn head bent over her task. Since Venia re-united with her coworkers, each has settled into their former specialties as beauty therapists. Flavius is hair and makeup. Octavia is the nail expert. And Venia is skin treatments and waxing. “She left work early,” smirks Flavius. “She has a date.” Venia collects a few tools from the nail station and returns to my side. While Flavius cuts, Venia smooths and buffs. It reminds me of my days as a tribute when all three of them would be working on various body parts at the same time. “We weren’t busy, anyway,” says Venia. “You’re the last customer for the day.” I know. That’s the reason I chose to come at this time. I didn’t want to take the chance of running into Lace when she’s having her roots done. “Anyone I know?” I ask. “Possibly,” replies Venia. “He’s from 12. Thom something. Bick? Hick?” “Hickory?” “That’s it. Hickory. Octavia’s had crushes before but she’s got it really bad this time. I caught her looking through wedding catalogues.” Venia pauses mid-buff. “I’m worried for her.” “How come?” Thom is a nice guy. He was a friend of Gale’s who helped with the clean-up of 12 and gave me a ride home in his cart when I was too weak to walk home. That was the day Peeta came back. “Because of . . . you know, of what we did before the war.” I don’t miss Venia’s use of “we”. If Octavia is accused of being a facilitator of the Games, they all are.

“But doesn’t Thom already know? He was in 13 at the same time as you.” All the survivors from District 12 actually. But Venia shakes her head. “Octavia didn’t know Thom then. We didn’t mix very much with the people there. We thought it safer to keep to ourselves. Especially after the bread.” I suppose being shackled to a wall and beaten for simply taking an extra portion of bread wouldn’t exactly endear the populace to you.

I try to reassure them. “You do know that I’d vouch for you if it ever came out? And tell them how you helped prepare me for the rebellion propos and Snow’s execution?” “I know you would. And maybe we’re worrying over nothing. But we risked a lot coming here and 12’s our home now. Flavius has met someone too – he’s from the Capitol, so that’s not a concern but if we had to leave . . . And Lucia is settled in school and has made friends and Cicero has a good job at the medicine factory . . .” And so Venia goes on. Flavius chimes in too. He tells me they’re set to take on two apprentices and once the tailor has moved out, they want to expand the salon –

“What? Arthur’s leaving?” This is the first I’ve heard of it. But maybe that’s not so surprising. I haven’t seen much of Arthur lately. It’s been only been Max, Johanna and me at pub nights. Arthur is obviously spending his Saturday nights elsewhere. “Oh, he’s not going far,” says Venia. “Just to another store on the main street. He says it’s better situated for passing trade and with the dressmaking shop next door it will likely bring more business to them both.” “I don’t think more business is the only thing those two want from each other,” says Flavius with a suggestive wink. “Flavius!” chides Venia, but she can’t conceal a smile. “It’s true, though. We misplaced the stone we use for sharpening scissors and Octavia went to ask Arthur if we could borrow his. But no one was there even though the door was open. So, she went through to the back, thinking that’s where he’d be, and she caught them red-handed, kissing, and his hand was up her skirt. Octavia forgot all about the stone.” The two of them collapse into giggles. “We didn’t think he had it in him,” says Venia, when she’s able to speak. Neither did I. I can’t laugh about it though. Peeta will be devastated when he hears that Lace has moved on. And so soon after their break-up too. But as badly as I feel for Peeta, I also can’t help feeling happy for Arthur. If there was ever a man who deserves reward for long devotion, it’s him. I only hope that Lace proves worthy of it. One thing I do know is that Peeta isn’t going to hear of it from me. I’m done being involved in his love life. It’s brought me nothing but trouble ever since he made that confession to Caesar Flickerman years before. My only objective is to get over him if I can and make sure that he thinks I have. And that makes this dinner tonight so important. It will set the stage for our relationship going forward. We’ll be friends. Not necessarily close friends. But at least friends who can enjoy social occasions together and feel comfortable in each other’s company. Johanna wants us to dress up so I guess that means I’ll have to wear a cocktail dress. I have one already in my closet. It’s the emerald green dress I wore to the party in 8. But it’s long sleeved and in a heavy fabric and that makes it too hot for this time of the year. I’ll have to go down to the basement where most of the Cinna clothes are stored. There’s a whole rack of cocktail dresses to choose from. But what do you wear when you want to show that you’ve made an effort, but don’t want to appear as if you’ve set out attract anyone in particular – and by anyone, I mean Peeta.

I begin by eliminating colours that are evocative of sunsets or flames. That takes care of anything orange, red or yellow. And then anything that Lace might choose. If Lace is Peeta’s idea of feminine allure then I should make sure to do the opposite. Therefore, no pastels, ruffles and especially any kind of lace. No. No. No, I think as I reject one dress after another. And then I find it. The perfect dress. And so different from the girlish or jeweled frocks that Cinna usually dressed me in that it’s almost as if he knew that one day, I might have a need for a dress such as this. It’s in unrelieved black. Simple and unadorned in slinky silk jersey. I really like it, but Peeta, who loves colour, probably won’t and it’s sure to send a message that I didn’t dress to please him. I accessorize it with black high-heeled sandals and silver and jet earrings. The dress comes to just above the knee with a deep halter neck. It’s impossible to wear a bra without it showing, so I leave it off. I turn around to check how it looks in the mirror from the rear. The clinging fabric does set off my best asset, but since it’s a dinner and I’ll be sitting on it, no one will see it. The burn scars, although much improved from the skin treatments, are still noticeable on my back. I decide to draw attention to it by putting my hair up in a kind of messy bun. This will contrast with Lace’s unblemished skin and immaculate hair and will surely show Peeta that I don’t care at all about being attractive to him. I arrive at Peeta’s door at the same time as Haymitch. He’s wearing a dinner suit, but his white shirt has already untucked from the waistband and his tie isn’t around his neck but dangling from his breast pocket. His eyebrows rise as he takes in my appearance and his lips curve in a sardonic smile. If I needed any confirmation of how incongruous I look in this get-up, I just got it. Johanna answers the door, elegant in a wine-red fitted dress with matching shoes. She appears to have paid a visit to the salon too, because her hair is now a uniform color and has been restyled to lie flat against her skull and frame her face instead of the usual red-tipped spikes sticking up all over her head. “I like your new look,” I tell her. “Yeah, it’s more conservative than I usually go for but I figure I have to start looking the part of mayor sooner or later. But what about you? What have you done with Katniss Everdeen?” I smile and shrug. I’m unsure if not looking like myself is a compliment or not. Peeta stops short when he sees me, his mouth gaping, but he collects himself quickly. “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thanks,” I murmur. He sounds sincere but I know how easily Peeta can fake it. “You look good too.” And he does, in a cream suit designed by Portia. We move into the dining room. Johanna’s gone to a lot of trouble. I can almost imagine we’re at one of those fancy restaurants in the Capitol. Fresh flowers, dim lighting, the furniture polished to a high sheen. The table is resplendently laid out with the finest dinnerware and gold cutlery. These came with the house. I have them too but I’ve yet to use them. I wonder if Peeta recognizes the pattern on the plates as the same as those that accompanied our feast in the cave. Johanna and Haymitch take seats at opposite ends of the table. That leaves Peeta and me to sit across from each other.

White wine is poured into cut-crystal glasses and starched linen napkins are laid across laps. I wait for either Johanna or Peeta to start bringing in the food but they stay seated. How are we to eat if the food never leaves the kitchen? I eye the woven gold basket filled with soft rolls in the center of the table. Is that all we get? Just then, Cass enters the room carrying a large silver tray. “Good evening,” he says, as places a bowl of soup in front of each of us. “I hope you brought your appetites with you. Don’t forget to save room for dessert.” And then he’s gone. Presumably back to the kitchen. “What was that?” I say to no one in particular. “Cass is doing all the cooking tonight. He’s a qualified chef. He can cook all sorts of things - not just pastries and desserts,” says Johanna. “Yes, I know that. But what’s he doing here?” Peeta answers. “Johanna thought it would be nice to have a professional do the cooking so we could relax and enjoy ourselves.” Right. I just wish Johanna’s idea of relaxation was drinks at the pub, or a barbeque in the backyard. Any place where I didn’t risk locking eyes with Peeta at any minute. We can scarcely look at each other. Every time his eyes chance to meet mine, they flit away. It’s like being back at school. We’re doing a very poor job of acting at ease with each other so far. I’m a lousy actress at the best of times but I expected better of Peeta. Clearly the knowledge that I’m in love with him freaks him out to the extent that he’s forgotten all his acting skills. The food is a welcome diversion and I tuck in. The soup is creamy pumpkin sprinkled with slivered nuts and little black seeds. Sublime. I recognize it as one of the soups at the Capitol feast. It’s followed by those delicious little roasted birds filled with orange sauce. Then fish swimming in a green sauce flecked with herbs. And then, oh, I don’t believe it! Lamb stew with dried plums! On a bed of wild rice!

That makes me think of our feast in the cave, of course. It’s even served on the same patterned plates. My eyes instinctively search out Peeta’s. Do you remember it? You must, surely. How excited we were when that parachute arrived. How careful we were to eat only small portions so we wouldn’t be sick after so many days of hunger. And then how we whiled away the time until we could eat again – snuggled together in the sleeping bag, my head on your shoulder, your arms wrapped around me, imagining our life together if we survived the Games. You, me and Haymitch, you said. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales. You must remember it!

But Peeta doesn’t look my way. His gaze flickers between Johanna and Haymitch without it ever landing on me even though we’re sitting directly across from each other. And he laughs just a little too loudly at Johanna’s poor taste joke about prunes and how we’ll all shit well tomorrow. He remembers our feast in the cave, all right! I’m certain of it. He just doesn’t want me to know that he does. To spare me the humiliation, probably. I want to kick myself. Gawping at him like a love-sick idiot – practically begging him to remember one of our most intimate moments together. At least Peeta has his wits about him, not letting on that the stew holds any particular significance.

I quietly return to my stew. It’s not as good as I remember it and I can only manage a few mouthfuls. Saving room for dessert, I tell Johanna, when she comments. Unfortunately, there’s a long break between this course and the next. I suppose Cass wants our stomachs to have a rest before he brings out the dessert which is sure to be spectacular. But it makes the pressure to appear congenial and unaffected by Peeta’s presence that much harder when I don’t have the food to distract me.

Since I got here, Peeta hadn’t spoken a great deal, and me even less. The conversation has been carried mostly by Johanna and Haymitch. She’s been picking his brain about the challenges of town planning and the provision of services such as garbage collection and road maintenance. Johanna had better get this job for mayor. She already acts as if it’s hers. That’s why it’s a surprise when the focus of attention turns to me. I’d been occupied twisting my crystal glass around by the stem watching the colours change across its facets. Anything to keep my mind off the person sitting opposite me. “You’ll step in, won’t you, Katniss?” Johanna asks. My head jerks up. “Hmm? What – “ “She doesn’t have to,” says Peeta quickly. “Step in for what?” I ask, directing my question to Johanna. “To watch the tapes with Peeta.” says Johanna. Before I can respond Peeta interjects again. “There’s no need to bother Katniss. I’ll be fine with Haymitch.” “You won’t,” says Haymitch. “The tapes labeled ‘to be watched with Katniss’ are all that’s left. It’s probably why the content has become repetitive lately. Aurelius has obviously run out of material I can help you with.” “You need to watch all the tapes,” Johanna adds. “You don’t know what memories are missing until you do.” “Katniss has already done her share. I’ll be fine watching on my own,” says Peeta. Johanna shakes her head. “You know that’s not how it works. You need someone to put it into context. Besides, the tapes were her idea to begin with. She should see it through.” Peeta turns to me for the first time. “There’s really no need.” He’s almost pleading with me. I really want to accept his offer to not watch the tapes with him. I know he’s giving me an escape but if I go along with it, it gives the impression that I’m afraid and that’s not good either. It has to appear as if I have nothing to hide. Which I don’t. Except the part that I’m still in love with him, of course. I can see where he’s coming from. After my slip-up with the stew, he’s worried that if I’m compelled to watch the tapes with him, I’m sure to give myself away. He’s protecting me from myself. I look coolly into the blue eyes of the person who is now my greatest opponent and I promise myself I will defeat his plan. Johanna is right. I should finish what I started. Remember that my primary objective was for Peeta to find himself. And if those tapes hold the final pieces, then I’m determined that he shall have them. I will watch those tapes, no matter how bad they are, and he will never guess from my reaction that I still carry a torch for him. It’s the only way we’ll ever be able to act normally around each other. “I’m happy to help,” I say. “Same time and place?” All eyes are on him. He’s trapped and he knows it. Peeta’s nod is almost imperceptible. What a timely moment for Cass to bring out the dessert. It’s a tower of pastries filled with different flavored custards, welded together with chocolate and studded with raspberries and sugared violets surrounded by an immense web of delicate spun sugar. There’s enough for at least a dozen or more people. But the best thing about it is that its position in the center of the table effectively blocks out my view of Peeta. So, Dr Aurelius has sent tapes that he wants Peeta to specifically watch with me. I wonder if I was ever going to be told about them. Probably not if it had been left up to Peeta. He’s obviously anxious about what’s on them. That makes me think that he has most, if not all, of his memories back. Enough, at least, to guess at how I feel about him. It seems that the tapes have progressed from those which showed me either indifferent or acting a part to when I began to return his feelings. And the irony is that it’s made not a scrap of difference. I’m glad now that Dr Aurelius sent the compromising tapes first. I had never stood a chance with him, even without Lace.

Cass comes out to clear away the dessert plates and the remains of that pastry thing. He frowns at how little impact we made on it. But it really was huge. To make him feel better, I ask if he can wrap it up for me to share around the staff room tomorrow. Max will probably make some joke about chocolate covered balls and phallic symbols. We finish with tea for Peeta and me and coffee for Johanna and Haymitch. Haymitch takes from his pocket a silver flask and pours a generous slug of whatever’s in it into his cup.

The dinner finally comes to an end. I pull Johanna aside before I go, ostensibly to say goodbye to her. I won’t see her tomorrow. The train for 7 leaves very early and Peeta has offered to walk her to the train station.

“The whole night was a setup, wasn’t it? To get me to watch the tapes with Peeta again?”

She doesn’t bother denying it. “Yep. Someone had to give the two of you a nudge in the right direction.” She gives me one of her stern big sister looks. “Don’t waste it.”

“I won’t,” I say. She doesn’t have to know that I have something completely different in mind to her.

I hug her goodbye and wish her luck. I don’t know when we’ll meet again. Not with me stuck in 12 and Johanna busy being mayor but maybe she’ll find time in her schedule to visit at some point.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she calls out as I leave. Where have I heard that expression before? Ah yes, Plutarch. They were the last words he spoke to me before he left the hovercraft that brought me back to 12. Thankfully, even after that scare with Marcus, that’s exactly how it’s stayed.

“Never,” I call back. No one could ever be the little sister that Prim was. But maybe I’ve gained a pretty good substitute for an older one.

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bipercabeth · 5 years

Note

37 “You look like you need a hug” with Demeter!Percy and Ares!Annabeth

i can’t believe i let this sit unfinished for as long as i did but happy birthday zach!!

Percy sits on the porch of the Big House, staring at the windowsill plants and working on a stubborn bud that refuses to bloom. The midsummer weather makes for the perfect time to flourish, and it’s far behind the flowers around it. He takes his time watching it unfold to soak up the sunlight the summer days so willingly offer. He’s not in any sort of rush.

His girlfriend, however, is another story.

The front door bursts open and might lose a hinge in the ferocity of the swing. Annabeth storms out, her expression murderous and footsteps booming on the wood.

“You look like you need a hug,” he comments as she passes him.

“What I need is to punch Clarisse in the face, that Aphrodite bit—”

“Okay,” Percy interrupts, darting from his chair to block her path to the stairs. He puts his hands out in front of him.

“Percy, let me go,” she says, stepping to the side.

He steps with her. “Last time you fought Clarisse, you two literally wrestled for twenty minutes. She almost broke your arm.”

“Yeah, but I did break her nose, so it was worth it.” She attempts to pass again.

Percy surveys her, notes her set jaw, tense fists, narrow eyes. Yup, she’s definitely on a warpath.

Sometimes it blows Percy’s mind that someone so dedicated to battle strategy is so willing to charge headfirst into fights, but that’s how Annabeth gets when her pride is on the line. And based on the fiery look in her eyes—not too far off from her dad—Clarisse has made this a matter of pride. There’s only so much Percy can do to stop it.

He drops his hands and sighs. “Where is she?”

Annabeth seems to sense victory. She brightens and takes a step closer. “The arena.”

“Perfect,” he says, not moving from his place in front of her. Annabeth tenses just a moment too late as Percy darts forward, hoisting her onto his shoulders in a fireman hold.

“Percy! Put me down or I swear to the gods—”

Percy tunes her out as she spews threats and profanity at him, Clarisse—the whole camp, really. He holds her legs and one of her arms tight enough that she probably won’t be able to escape without hurting him, and he just has to take the gamble and hope she isn’t mad enough to. Judging by the way her free arm only half-heartedly hits his back, it’s a risk worth taking.

He forgot that getting to the strawberry fields means passing within earshot of the arena.

Clarisse’s voice echoes across the campground. “Oh, so you’re going to let Flower Power sweep you off your feet instead of standing your ground? Typical Ares kid, starting a fight and running away.”

Annabeth tenses in Percy’s arms. “Let me go,” she growls. When he doesn’t respond, she swats the back of his head. “She’s talking about my dad! Let. Me. Go.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Can you stop being all noble for like, ten seconds? You know this ends in a fight sooner or later.”

“We’re gonna try it my way first.”

“And what exactly is ‘your way?’”

Before Percy can respond, Clarisse appears in his peripheral with her arms crossed and what he thinks is a smirk on her face. He picks up the pace, changing his angle in the hopes of obstructing Annabeth’s view.

He can’t do anything about her hearing though.

“I will say, when I bet on Oatmeal here sweeping you off your feet, I didn’t think this was how I’d get my money’s worth!” Clarisse’s gruff voice is accompanied by a honey-sweet feeling, and Percy has to shake his head to get the heavy feeling of charmspeak out of it.

Annabeth cranes her neck and nearly elbows Percy in an attempt to make eye contact while yelling, “Is that all you got, La Rue?”

Oh shit.

He may not risk a glance, but Percy can feel Clarisse’s footsteps pounding into the ground as she gives chase.

“Bitch!”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is butch,” Annabeth smugly corrects.

Time to improvise, Percy thinks.

He wills the grass to cling to Clarisse’s boots, weighing her down in the hopes that she’ll give up. Naturally, she doesn’t, but it does slow her down long enough for Percy to get out of earshot. When she continues forging ahead, he strings up some vines and has them block her path, only allowing her to move backward.

Annabeth laughs the whole way to the strawberry fields, her body shaking on Percy’s shoulders.

“Did you see her face? You might’ve sto—” she’s cut off as Percy slings her off and catches her around the waist as her feet hit the ground.

“We’re going to chill,” he asserts.

Annabeth laughs in his face.

“We’re going to chill in this strawberry field until you no longer want to punch Clarisse in the face,” he repeats.

“I mean, not just her face—”

“Annabeth. I swear to the gods.”

“You are infuriatingly calm.”

Percy raises an eyebrow at her. “Oh yeah? I bet you couldn’t get as calm as I am right now.” He lets the challenge seep into his voice, knowing she won’t be able to resist it when she’s this heated.

As expected, her eyes narrow at him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Percy settles onto the ground, finally trusting that she won’t bolt, “I don’t think you’re capable.”

Annabeth huffs and plops onto the ground next to him, her face scrunched up in stony determination. Her hair splays out on the ground like a halo, and despite the fact that he just had to haul her across camp to keep her from pummeling Clarisse, Percy thinks she looks beautiful. (Maybe even because of that.)

He knows he isn’t subtle as he watches her, but he’d rather witness this and get caught than miss it altogether. Annabeth’s ability to kick ass is one of the things Percy loves most about her, but watching her go from kickass mode to relaxed mode might be his favorite thing in the world.

It’s a slow unwind that starts in her shoulders. At first they’re tense, even against the soft ground beneath her, but then the stress dissipates slowly, almost as if it’s seeping away into the earth. It’s comparable to working the kink out of a stubborn muscle.

Her face, once scrunched in anger, smooths out into simple hills and valleys of soft skin and tranquility instead of the rigid canyons of fury.

And slowly a smile spreads across her face, so achingly similar to the rising sun, her dimple that first beam of light peaking over the horizon before the grin dawns. She only has one dimple, and today Percy is laying on the right side to see it.

Percy can feel her digging her fingers in the earth, not because they’re touching, but he feels it like a tugging in his gut. It’s a comfort, he thinks, knowing that he’ll know where she is as long as she’s on the ground.

He can sense Clarisse stomping her way back to her cabin, Grover resting in the woods by Juniper’s tree, various campers bustling about outside of the haven of the strawberry field.

But before any of that is Annabeth; her back pressing into the ground, her fingers tapping in the soil. Sometimes Percy thinks about how much of a miracle it is that they’ve survived this long, and then it hits him that they’re alive. Not just surviving, they’re living and together and soaking up the lazy weekend sun without any obligations.

Well, some obligations. He should get back to help his siblings clean the cabin if he didn’t want to be stuck on dish duty (read: lava duty) for the next week, but that’s usually not life-threatening. The fate of the world doesn’t rely on whether or not Percy is there to organize his disaster of a bunk.

In that sense, they’re free, and have been for some time now. It’s mind-blowing to think that their biggest concern is finishing high school; Percy almost can’t believe his main focus is something so mundane (or anything other than not dying, really).

He’s learned to find victory in that mundanity, to cherish it. Life can be as simple as watching the love of your life smile in the sunlight if you let it. Percy intends to.

Annabeth opens her eyes to glance up at him, the summer sun lighting them on fire. The flame has simmered down from murderous to fond. Less scalding, more comfortable. Warm, like home.

“This,” she presses her thumb to the crease between his brows, “doesn’t seem very chill to me.”

A laugh bubbles in Percy’s throat at her smug smile. “Yeah, it looks like you’ve got me beat.”

“Knew it,” she sighs, too content to rub in her victory, and that’s how Percy knows he’s won.

#zacharandom #godswap au #demeter!percy #ares!annabeth #percabeth #my percabeth #drabbles #my fic #pjo fics #pjo #hoo #NOT A DRABBLE BUT THAT'S THE TAG #ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZACH I WANTED TO GIVE U FRANK CONTENT BUT ROOMMATES IS SO FAR FROM FINISHED #idk when this takes place. sometime after hoo probably

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