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captain-barnes-writes · 3 years

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Mafioso

Summary: Mob boss Bucky Barnes enjoys his vacation in Colombia in more ways than one.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Latina

Warning: Language, mafia, maybe a little dark?, age gap, daddy kink (or should I say papi kink😏), unprotected sex. Smutttttt—18+

[one-shot with possibility of a second part...]

NOT PROOFREAD.

Word Count: 5.9k

The thick air under the Colombian night sky had made James Buchanan Barnes break out into a slight sweat. Trickles of perspiration stuck to his forehead and his perfectly combed hair was starting to falter under the South American hot breeze. There was something in the air that night, the air so warm it even made someone like him, someone of his stature, want to wear a pair of shorts and a tank top. He’d pushed aside those thoughts though and opted for a dark ensemble that for the first time in a long time didn’t include a suit. He put the choice on the weather, but knew it was a mere excuse to a much needed laxed relaxation--his muscular frame donned a fitted midnight blue polo and expensive black chinos. A pure gold chain with a thick round pendant hung from his neck. Despite the somewhat more relaxed clothing choice, it still spoke greatly for the person he was, for the power he bore in his hands. He was away from New York, away from his many enemies, yet despite that he couldn’t let his guard down even while in a beautiful place like Medellin, Colombia.

He was a mafioso. Leader of a renowned and feared mafia, James, or as many of his closest confidants called him Bucky, was powerful beyond measure. One of the most remarkable features of the feared man was the way his dark profession didn’t at all really relate to the way he looked. With sharp blue eyes and dull clementine lips, Bucky stood over six feet tall and oftentimes used his honeyed voice to get his way. It was a shrill contrast to the person he truly was with his enemies, or those he was not familiar with, a booming menace with toneless manners and gestures. A darkened soul.

More often than not, he would not be recognized or even thought to be a huge asset of organized crime. He was too handsome, too respectful and was a masked businessman to the public but a true bandit underneath. The way he looked and the way dressed so professionally and gallantly with perfectly tailored dark expensive suits and shiny black leather shoes was his greatest disguise. Unbeknownst to whoever that he carried a sharp blade and fully loaded gun with him at all times.

The work was tiresome, physically and emotionally draining. For a man who was so often toneless in the way he spoke of death, in the way he so often wished it and caused it on others, and emotionless with tragedies, he was still a person beneath all the darkness—all the guns and all the violence. Upon a tormenting year filled with too much bloodshed, he’d decided to take some much needed time for himself in a place where there’d been similar violence and crime to that which he was partially responsible for back in the states, but still felt like a secluded place away from absolutely everything. With his turf being monitored by those he trusted most, to some extent he felt free.

For Bucky, Colombia had felt like an excellent choice upon making it and planning the trip to the t a few weeks prior. It’d taken so long to arrange in order to leave things in place and to choose those who were best skilled for the arduous job that was keeping order to such an unbalanced thing that was the mafia. He’d lied about his whereabouts to many, not wanting to compromise everything he’d worked so hard for.

Now Bucky was in the city of Medellin—rich in culture, food and most importantly filled with women. It had barely been his first day and he’d already eyed far too many beautiful women with their dark features and alluring accents. It was nighttime, past 9 pm and he’d just taken a seat under an umbrella-ladden table with a few of his many bodyguards. They were brooding and menacing figures in dark attire. They were simply doing their job, but Bucky wished they’d take it down a notch especially in a bar where nobody knew who he was and what he stood for. Though he couldn’t say that to them because letting his guard down meant showing weakness and he couldn’t have that. Not now, not ever.

The vibrant graffiti art on the rustic building the restaurant and bar was situated at went so well with the multicolor knitted flag garland that stretched from one side to the other. The twinkling yellow lights illuminating the beautiful scene before him; people dancing, foreign and natives of the land. Hands joined at the hip, on the shoulders, bodies moving one way to the other and faces etched with a liberating kind of happiness. It was a fresh spectacle he hadn’t witnessed in far too long.

The country that had birthed magical realism and the rhythm and sound of cumbia was lit with shining bulbs and people whose bliss was of no comparison and it was slightly, just slightly, rubbing off on him when he found himself with a small smile. The people dancing before him were in their own little world as the unfamiliar music emanated moves from them that he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to replicate.

And then there was her. A gleaming light of a woman with tan skin that glowed underneath the superficial lighting. Her face seemed to be in such a deep concentration that didn’t seem to emanate from stress or from taking on a hard task, but at the simple task of dancing.

She was the epitome of magic in his eyes—a Colombian who bore beauty so devastating it had dried his mouth. The tan skin, dark flowing tresses that reached her lower back and dusky inviting eyes. A charmeuse emerald green dress with a blood orange floral print design clung effortlessly to her body and much to his pleasure, the frill hem of the dress ended just above the middle of her smooth thighs. The radiant energy that emanated from her was more than Bucky could even imagine; she was more than he could even have imagined. Not that he had before. Compared to all the women he’d encountered during the last few hours he’d been on the foreign soil she took all the medals with her. She took absolutely everything and he wasn’t even near her, hadn’t even touched her, or felt the delicate skin of her neck or even felt the glossy lips that he felt desperate to take a hold of.

Her hips were shaking side to side, tips of her toes translating the music that she so deeply felt. Her bones were burning with the sound of her native music, the sound of Cumbia. Se me perdió la Cadenita’s tune playing in the background as the movements of her hips followed every beat far too perfectly.

She was dancing alone unlike the many people that surrounded the large dancefloor who had their partners. Many times, She found herself in this bar in the famous little plaza of Medellin. Frequented by locals and non-locals alike, it was always a party. The ambiance was a delicacy, the drinks were great and the music never missed.

Today, for the first time ever, she found herself arriving at the bar alone due to her friend ditching her for last-minute plans with her boyfriend. She understood, but still wanted to come out on her own for a much needed distraction because work had been hectic and her personal life was even worse. Drinks and a good sweat-inducing dance always did the trick. Just this time she’d have to dance with herself.

Or maybe not.

Y/N felt heavy cerulean eyes burning holes on her back. She’d peeked once or twice and was well aware of the handsome, well-dressed man sitting amongst a group of menacing looking men whom she could tell were most likely white. He was too, and while she wasn’t particularly attracted to white men, he was something else. Had a little kick, a little spice and how did she even know that? She didn’t, but the man was in Colombia so she’d deduced that he had good taste so far. Blue eyes, she’d noticed, short dark tendrils neatly combed and a trimmed beard. It wasn’t until she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts that her eyes lost sight of the alluring man and a flick of disappointment shot through her.

With a scoff, all her movements had come to a halt and she made her way to the bar area to get herself yet another drink. She’d had two so far and already felt the alcohol contents doing their godforsaken job, alleviating the stress from her shoulders,soothing her wracking brain and letting her have a form of tranquil fun. She wasn’t the best drinker and knew that two more drinks and she’d probably have blurry vision and slurred speech. Consumed in her own thoughts, she suddenly heard the bartender ask what she wished to order.

“Un mojito de aguardiente.” She responded.

“Yo tambien.” Me too. A voice chimed next to her. Strong and laced with a very thick accent that had almost made the words incoherent to any ear. It was the polo-clad man who’d been gawking at her from his table just a mere few minutes ago and now he was standing right next to her. He was so close, the skin of their arms were brushing against each other; she thought of how he felt so warm.

“Good choice.” She commented, eyes trailing up to meet his. An abyssal of blazing blue with a glint of mischief and many things she could not make of stared back at her. The crinkles at the end of his eyes came to shape as he offered her a small nod and smile. He was slightly taken aback at the way the English words slipped past the plumpness of her lips, slightly thick but still more than understandable. Far better than his Spanish.

“We both ordered the same thing so I think we both have great taste.” Bucky with all his influence and overwhelming power was overcome with a yearning for the woman beside him and felt as if he’d become prey to her. But he knew far too well that despite the confidence she so easily oozed and the way she had him almost salivating, she was the victim here. It would never be him.

When the bartender came back with both drinks, Bucky had immediately placed a one hundred dollar bill on his hand, paying for both drinks despite her protest, and told him to keep the change. The man’s face beamed and proceeded to thank him profusely to which he waved him off with nonchalance because to him a bill of such value was simple pocket change.

“You didn’t have to pay for me, really.” The woman pleaded, thick brows furrowed as she fumbled to get money from her purse. Bucky was amused as he placed his hand on her arm trying to stop her movements and at the sudden touch, her head snapped to look at him. It was then when her lips were agape with wide brown eyes that he thought she looked so young, and concluded that she was most likely in her early 20s. He became even more curious, pining to know little details about her.

“It was nothing. Just tell me your name, that’ll be enough.”

It was nothing. At this, she became a little nervous. She couldn’t deny he was really easy on the eyes, even that was an understatement, he was as handsome as men came. With the crisp and costly clothes he wore along with the heavy gold chain that adorned his chest and not to mention the fact that he had just carelessly spent 100 dollars on two drinks that couldn’t have cost more than twenty. And the burly men clad in black who stood at the far back of the large bar just staring at them, at him, not letting him out of their sight as if their lives depended on the very man himself. It warned her that he was a man of money and even the way he carried himself spoke of the probable immense power he held.

With a voice that faltered, accent heavy she responded with her name.

“Y/N.” He tried it, weighed it on his tongue and savored it because it complemented her so well. Said it loud so she could hear him and she did, becoming just a tad flustered as she opened her mouth and closed it again. No sound coming out.

“Such a pretty name, darling.” His honeyed voice caused a flutter in her stomach, but she put it on the alcohol and not at the way the nickname sounded too good coming from him. She felt flushed, and at the sensation that her face had become hot she placed her drink down and put her cooled hands on her cheeks. It was embarrassing that she’d become such a mess in front of him and to try to distract him from this she asked for his name too.

“Bucky.” He replied.

“Never heard of that name before...maybe just because I’m from here, um but is it short for something?”

Just like she had paused earlier when he asked for her name, he became slightly agitated too. He took a large sip of the drink, the aguardiente was a tad powerful but the anise accents mixed with lemon and mint were comforting and gave way to a refreshing taste. He turned his face to look at her after a few seconds, having mulled over the meek possibility of the girl recognizing him, elbows propped on the wooden bar counter.

“It’s just a nickname.” He finally succumbed to the way her doe eyes waited for an answer, but he’d lied to her face. It was actually short for Buchanan. Instead he would give her his first name, a simple name. He wished so ardently that she’d be moaning it in no time.

“My name is James.”

“Oh.” Was all that came from the beauty beside him as she sipped her drink. She didn’t seem to hiss at the alcohol and he deduced that she probably drank it quite often.

“How old are you?” Bucky enquired after she’d grown silent, seemingly too interested in the drink that was more than halfway gone. She’d had such confidence earlier on the dance floor, with hips that weaved and swung to the rhythm of the music and her face expression had been so jaunty. Carefree and relaxed. Now in his presence she seemed quite shy. He wondered why she’d taken on this form now, he didn’t think of himself as being too pushy. At least not now because there was no need, she was compliant enough. He only showed that harsh edge when necessary.

“22.” She uttered. He’d been right, she was in her early 20s. God, she was so young and he was already pushing 40. The age should’ve had him walking away, but he wasn’t at the thought of being between her pretty thighs savoring her, tasting her. He wanted to teach her a few things only men his age knew. Taking one last sip of her drink before placing it on the counter. Her waves cascading down to her lower back slightly moved as she yet again twisted to gaze up at him with burnt sienna eyes. She was sensual without even meaning to and he felt his pants tightening.

She adjusted her feet, feeling a slight ache at standing with the bronze pumps and placed a hand on her hip. The plunging neckline of the dress was enticing him. Smooth skin peeking at the bright material that complemented her far too well as if it was made just for her. He himself had just finished his drink as well, placed it on the counter and moved to adjust his pants. The pressure was becoming uncomfortable. He’d moved his gaze away from her to look at his surroundings, a mere habit of his. It was then that her eyes trailed to his hands and that the sleek black object caught her eyes. She stared intently, feeling herself more agitated, and the black metal gleamed as if to alarm her. She let out a small gasp and averted her eyes to look anywhere else, but him

She was panicking at being in such close proximity to a deadly weapon. It was normal to carry a gun and sometimes it did seem as a necessity to ward off danger, but it didn’t ease the discomfort Y/N felt. She placed a hand on her chest while placing the other on the counter and taking a deep breath. She was having an internal battle, one side was chastising her for judging Bucky for the simple act of carrying a gun while the other side was pleading with her to get away.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He whispered so softly in her ear suddenly. Hot breath fanning on her side of her face and goosebumps arising on her skin. She stuttered, not even coming up with a coherent thing to say. His hand found its way to hers, gripping it, and bringing it up to place his lips on it. His eyes ablaze that she felt them burning holes on her forcing her to yet again meet them.

“Come on, darling.” He hummed, waiting for a response. Her hand was still entwined with his but now he was just holding it at his side, not letting go. His other hand had fallen to the waistline of his dark chinos, the sleek object coming to view. Her breath hitched and she felt as if she was speechless. Had he done that on purpose? To show her that he had the upper hand and that she had no choice but to say yes.

In the most twisted way the one thing she was holding onto was the deep rasp and slowness of his voice and the mere invitation to leave with him had allowed a current of heat creep to her stomach, a pooling sensation in between her legs. She yet again put it on the alcohol because had she been completely sober she would’ve escaped already.

She blinked at him, words continuing to fail her. Bucky was growing impatient at the girl before him who seemed to be fighting with herself. He knew she’d seen the pistol hidden inside the waistband of his pants, but he didn’t even want to hurt her. Not like that anyway.

“It’s a gun, just for protection. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He defended.

She remained quiet and at the sound of no response, he let go of her hand and took hold of her face with both his hands. Gripping it, he brought his lips to hers in a forceful kiss. Her lips tasted like lemon and alcohol, so warm and soft he already felt addicted. She didn’t respond at first, her dainty hands coming up to grab the bottom of his arms to try to let go but it was no use because Bucky was far stronger. When his teeth lightly took hold of her bottom lip, she inadvertently let out a small moan. It was her first reaction and it had him wanting more. Groaning, he pulled away. Eyes filled with so much lust he thought it would seep out of him.

“Shit, come on.” His head turned to his men, signaling them it was time to go. She was going to come with him, she had to. He wanted her to grip the sheets of his bed tonight, bury her head in his pillows and moan his name. He gripped her hand again, dragging the girl through the exit of the bar. She wasn’t fighting, just struggling behind him with her bronze pumps.

In seconds, she was inside a sleek car with the engine revving and Bucky cruising through the Medellin streets. From her quietness, posture and the way her dainty hands fiddled on her lap Bucky deduced that she either didn’t do this often or at all.

In a haze, Y/N wondered what he did for a living. He had an expensive rental, donned tailored clothing of fine quality and had bodyguards for protection. They were trailing behind him in different cars, one in front and one at the back. With one hand on the steering wheel, Bucky rubbed soft circles on her thigh with the other . Her skin was smooth and it dawned on him than in no less than 5 minutes he’d get to have the woman next to him at his disposal. Completely naked and at his mercy. At the thought, he hardened.

“Touch me.” He commanded, voice laced with a yearning need it felt as if it was eating him alive.

“What?” Y/N sputtered, brown eyes growing wide. She wasn’t inexperienced, but this was a man far older than she’d ever been with. He seemed to be nearing his 40s with his fluffy locks already showing signs of graying. And she was still slightly scared that on the other side of his hip was a gun.

“Stop thinking about it. I said it’s not to hurt you.” He sounded slightly peeved, voice sounding a bit rough. He’d caught her eyeing his hip where his gun was. She nodded while taking a deep breath. She knew perfectly well what he wanted, her hands on him. With shaky hands, she began to unzip his pants and though he had groaned at the small action he stopped her with his hand.

“Just through the pants, baby. We’re almost at the hotel.” She blinked, pressing her hands to the prominent bulge on his black chinos. She began palming him through the thick fabric, feeling the ridges of his erection and she shameless bit her lip at the feel, at how big he felt. Through long lashes, she ogled at the man before her. Ruggedly handsome beyond words with a strong build she knew she’d be left aching. Even though she still felt remnants of uncertainty, she mostly felt a deep gust of excitement building within her.

Bucky’s mouth was watering at the actions of the young girl beside him, her small hand touching him in the most sensual way. And it felt like a huge step forward with her hands on him, but he also felt her lingering gaze. It prompted him to remove his hand from her thigh and accelerate on the roads he was not even familiar with but the need to get to his hotel was one of his top priorities. It was silent for the most part besides a few jagged groans that emanated from his chest at the way she was still touching him. It almost pained him to not be buried inside her yet. God, he just knew she'd be tight and sweet.

When they did arrive at the towering hotel building, he’d leaned over and wrapped her up in a sweltering kiss before he had her hand in his hand waltzing through the lobby and into the elevator. The tension was thick and he’d managed to get his hands on her waist pulling her closer to him. He knew better than to try anything on the elevator especially not with his bodyguards in tow.

With his key card already in hand, once in front of his suite, he hastily swiped it and dragged her inside. With a sigh of relief he pushed her against the door, shutting it. In a change of roles, she was the one grabbing at the collar of his polo and pulling him in her to crash their lips together. It was sexy in the nastiest way possible--mouths engulfing each other, him biting her lips, sucking on them and her fitting her tongue inside his mouth. It was sloppy and brought a wave of satisfaction, it just wasn’t enough.

With greedy hands he groped her ass, massaging the roundness through the soft charmeuse material of her dress before he lifted it up through her body forcing them to pull away in order to fully remove the dress. Once it had come off, he threw it in a heap on the floor and savored the girl in front of him. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed and her hair already in disarray she looked just about ready to take him. He could have just come at the sight of her with the pretty white lace set she sported. So tiny it barely covered anything.

“Look at you baby. You look so pretty, ready to take me huh?” He’d lifted her into his arms ushering her to wrap her tanned legs around him while his hands held the fullness of her bottom. She hated that he was fully dressed. She wanted to feel him against her, wanted to see the toned muscles of his torso and touch the bulge she’d had her hands just a few minutes prior, just this time without the thick material of his chinos.

She nodded at his question as a small yes fled from her lips when he brought their lips together again in another needy kiss. This time, he maneuvered through the large hotel room and finally dropped her on his bed. He’d stayed on his feet, removing his shirt and revealing his taut and strong chest.

“You look so good, Bucky” She hadn’t meant for her English to sound so thick, not only laced with a deep onset of lust but with complete delight at the sight of him. She blushed at the way she’d sounded, but he loved it. Loved the way his name fell from her swollen lips.

With a bite of his lip, he watched as her expression went from that of need to one filled with fear as he removed the gun from the waistband of his pants. The dark metal in his hand the only thing her eyes were focused on. He was amused at the innocence she carried. Even in a country like Colombia where crime and death rates were one of the highest back in the day because of people like him, she’d managed to keep that angelic essence. He admired her refusal to let go of it.

“I told you this is only for protection, baby. The only thing that’s gonna hurt you is this dick.” He was half joking, gun still gripped in his hand he walked around the side of the bed to place it on the white nightstand. It seemed as if even that wasn’t enough for her so with a roll of his deep blue eyes, he decided it was best he placed it inside the nightstand drawer. Sure, he had better access and more maneuver to reach for it if it was on top, but he wanted to fuck her so bad and wanted her to enjoy it not have a gun be the reason she couldn’t get wet over him.

She swallowed, a little more calm as she saw the weapon safely stored inside the drawer and offered him a timid smile. He chuckled at her newfound expression and felt the same yearning bubble up again. Desperate to feel her skin on him, he unbuckled his pants in a haste and threw them carelessly on the floor. If he wasn’t so damn hard to the point it pained him, he would’ve had her remove the pants with her small hands. Another time, he thought.

He climbed on top of her, expectant doe eyes staring back at him when his face prodded down at her. She reached her soft hands to touch his face and used it to pull his face towards hers. Lips meeting in a desperate kiss as if starved of human touch; so eager, so needy. His hands didn’t waste time exploring her body. They wanted to be everywhere at once, her breasts, her thighs and the sweet place between her thighs. For the time being, he’d stopped at the swell of her breasts, pushing down the thin lace cups and rubbing her perky brown nipples slowly. Fingers trailing on the smoothness of her areolas had turned to kneading. His lips had parted from hers and trailed down to the sensitive skin of her neck and made sure to take the skin between his lips. Sucking and biting at the skin until blood had risen leaving behind deep purple marks that looked rather painful. She was a withering mess underneath him, soft little moans falling from her swollen lips and thighs widening.

She was so compliant especially when he’d patted her thigh and she’d opened up to him without a single word. His fingers had grasped at the thin lace material of her panties too roughly and it had ripped. Y/N yelped and he didn’t know what to make of her face expression whether it was anger or disappointment that had shown, but he promised her he’d buy her more. Expensive lace just for his pretty girl.

Without waiting for a response, 2 fingers had slowly delved into her cunt. Long fingers forming a slow and torturous rhythm that had her wanting more. If this was his way of making her talk then he was on right track as her little whines grew the more he kept the same pace

“Faster.” Y/N pleaded, hands grasping at the sheets below her. He felt himself gloat as her soft voice egged him on, finally voicing out her needs. He’d given in, fingers pumping in and out of her in briskness all while loving the little sinful moans that she gave out. Within seconds, his tongue had taken place of his fingers licking a long patch of her pretty pussy before he brought them back inside her. Her cunt was soaking wet with her juices and she was so damn sweet. His tongue was swirling against her clit, a move that had her body shuddering in the process. His fingers continued their pace inside her while his tongue drew long licks on her little petal, sucking and swirling that within seconds she’d gripped his hair tightly and came without warning. She’d come right on his fingers, room filling with the sound of her cries. When he withdrew his fingers, glistening and sticky with her unbelievably sweet nectar, he licked a long stripe against her before coming up for air. He looked wildly erotic—hair unruly and mouth wet with the fruits of her orgasm.

When Bucky climbed his way back on top of her, she was breathing so hard her chest was heaving up and down, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to her skin, meanwhile her eyes were fluttering in the aftermath of her orgasm.

“Open your mouth.” Bucky ordered, voice laced with desire as he stared at the mess of a girl. Her brown eyes fluttered open again and with a bite of her lip, she opened her lips wide for him. Almost immediately his fingers were inside her mouth. He wanted her to taste herself, to taste how delicious she was.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. You like it? Like the way you taste?” God, he sounded so sexy. She hadn’t expected him to be such a talker, but he was making her skin tingle with just the sound of his voice and with the things he spewed out during their sinful acts. She moaned with his fingers in her mouth and gave a slight shake of her head to let him know that yes, she tasted damn sweet but that she was sure he tasted even better. At this thought, she grabbed hold of his arm and pushed his fingers out. Taking charge for the first time that night, she pushed him on his back. His olive skin meeting the black silk of his sheets.

Mischievous burnt sienna eyes peered up at him as she removed his boxers causing the thick bulge to spring out. He was so big and thick in her hands, and she thought of how much discomfort the stretch would be just taking him.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, dainty hand wrapping around the thick shaft moving up and down. He was groaning above, husky and loud. It drove her hand to move faster against him, a line of precum already seeping from the swollen head. It was so enticing seeing the milky substance leaking from him that her head bowed and lips wrapped around the very tip. Tongue swirling against the tiny hole before she sucked it savoring the salty taste of him. She began to bob her head down the thickness of his cock, unable to take him all but making sure what she couldn’t take her hand would. He was just so damn big, she wanted to take him all but when he hit the back of her throat her eyes had watered and her throat hadn’t allowed more to fit in. But he seemed satisfied as his hand tangled itself in hair, urging her to keep the same momentum. Her red lips sucking him , coating him in her saliva. Almost too soon, he’d pulled her off him and pushed her on top of him. Swollen lips meeting in the middle, fervent and needy. She tasted like him but he didn’t care.

She wrapped her hand around his shaft again, pumping him once more before she lined up to her entrance. She pushed herself down slowly, taking him inside her warmth. It was an uncomfortable stretch, the dull ache clear on her face as she grimaced. She took her time, barely moving for a good few seconds before she felt his hands on her hips. Kneading the soft skin there, almost as if pleading for her to move. With the tips of her feet on both sides of him, she began a slow up and down movement. He watched as her pussy devoured his dick, disappearing inside her.

Her breathy moans, shaky feet and slow movements were driving him wild. He wanted to fuck her until she screamed. Bucky’s hips had began bucking up, fucking into her desperate to feel more of her tightness. It wasn’t long before he’d taken the reigns again and her body was shaking above him, helplessly taking the deep thrusts.

“Fuck, that’s my good girl. Your tight pussy can take this dick right, baby girl?”

“Si papi.” Bucky’s ears had perked up at the naughty words. She’d called him daddy in Spanish and it had his dick twitching inside her. He could just cum at the sound of that word.

“Shit, call me that again baby girl.” He pleaded, breathing loud as his thrusts continued to piston inside her before he came to a momentary pause. He pushed her body backwards, her back hitting the silk sheets with a small thud. He lined himself at her wet pussy and drove forward again, feeling her tightness engulf him.

“Fuck me papi. Fuck me hard.” She was driving him wild with her velvety voice and the vice grip her cunt had him in. He began with full rough thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling the large hotel room. Her breasts were bouncing before him, gaining the attention of his lips and his mouth wrapped around her nipple before he gazed at her neck. Ladened with purple marks from his mouth, he wrapped his large hand around it. He’d taken her aback, eyes rolling as her breathing was slightly restricted. He was still fucking her to the brink of insanity and with the added pressure on her neck, she felt the familiar heat building within her stomach, balling up in a crazed manner. He pushed himself inside her with need, wanting her to break apart in front of him so he could follow suit with his own pent up orgasm.

“Oh shit, I’m cumming.” She yelped, voice hoarse with his grip on her neck. She was spasming underneath, tears rolling down her reddened cheeks as she felt the wave of ecstasy shake through her. Her cunt had tightened around his dick, still moving inside her, but the constriction had unexpectedly gotten him to the edge too. He felt himself come with hot spurts inside her, a loud groan slipping past his lips. His stomach shuddered, heaving heavily. He felt as if she’d milked him of all he had.

She grimaced when he pushed himself from her and collapsed beside her. She was spent, sore limbs and a terrible ache between her thighs she knew she’d be spending the night. There was no way she’d make it home without falling asleep. She turned to look at him, and he did too , sharing drained smiles. Noticing her eyes fluttering close, he pecked her lips softly, a stark difference from the roughness of their previous acts.

“I’ll take you to buy new panties tomorrow.” Was the last thing he said, before she succumbed to sleep.

oooooof, this took me hours to write but I felt so inspired. I watched the devil all the time and I, Tonya again (the mustache really does it for me honestly, he’s so hot) and I was like lemme just write a mob bucky one-shot.

Any tips or comments, lemme know. Hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. can someone please tell me they’re as disgustingly obsessed with Lee Bodecker as I am, I’m literally burning inside. The little pouch and the PEPSI CUP. OMFGGGGG

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touchmycoat · 3 years

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qijiu bingqiu (bingliushen??) fix-it fic planning blabber

so i think i gotta keep it tight on SJ’s POV. Right before his death, he makes a deal with Xin Mo (who’s kind of a lone operator bc LBH too has to fight its power) to create this alternate timeline in exchange for his cultivation. Xin Mo can open up new dimensions no problem, and with SJ’s cultivation, it even manages to rewind the timeline. That’s not enough though—Xin Mo’s goal is only consumption, so it takes the deal but reveals there’s nothing that will actually change. The price SJ paid only opened the door.

But that’s fine, ‘cause SJ saw it coming. He also strikes another deal, this time with Death itself? Some sort of large cosmic force. The only thing he wants changed is Qi-ge’s death, and in exchange...the universe takes him. SJ will not get to exist in that second universe. SJ takes the deal.

And that’s the start of canon. SJ-as-SQQ can no longer exist. Instead, SY-as-SQQ is brought in. In order to stay cohered though, YQY’s memories and personality get a little glitched—he is physically incapable of recognizing all the ways SQQ is now not SJ. That’s why, despite SY-as-SQQ clearly being OOC, YQY never seems to see it.

Canon happens, now we’re in the post-canon world where bingqiu are married and settling down, but SQQ still kicks it with his buddies LQG and YQY every now and then. YQY still firmly believes SQQ is SJ, to SY’s increasing consternation. Is it just delusions and wishful thinking? The more YQY treats him as SJ though, the worse SY feels—he shouldn’t be stealing all this affection that doesn’t belong to him.

It all comes to head when SQQ overhears public opinion on YQY, how he’s perfect in everything but his crazy devotion to SQQ. SY thinks enough is enough. He can’t bring SJ back but he sure can tell YQY that his Xiao Jiu is dead, right? The System warns him he’ll be punished but that’s fine, it’s just not fair, SQQ can take another little mental horror trip down to BinggeLand if it means YQY can have some closure.

Except that’s not what happens. He gets YQY in private and says, “no, you don’t understand, Shen Jiu is dead.” He sees the recognition in YQY’s eyes, but he also sees the moment that recognition gets wiped. The sad smile that had fallen off of YQY’s face returns, eerily happy, as YQY says, “my apologies, Qingqiu-shidi, I must have spaced out just now, what did you say?”

Right before the System kicks him into another punishment phase, SY tries again: “Shen Jiu is dead!” He sees the recognition disappear once again from YQY’s eyes.

Inside the punishment world, Bingge has him again. “I’ve been searching for an answer to why the sniveling pathetic version of me gets you as his Shizun, and I think I figured it out.” For a moment, SY’s horrified by the possibility that Bingge has figured out his transmigrator status—if his punishment figures it out, would he be trapped inside the punishment forever? But instead, Bingge says, “Liu Qingge is still alive, meaning Shizun didn’t kill him in the spirit caves. Did his survival render such a dramatic change?” SQQ”s like “yup, yup that’s definitely it. We’re such good friends, he really changed my outlook on life, so I treated you better, mhm.”

“Shizun’s very clever then to save his own life this way. Xin Mo’s already told me about your little bargain.”

That’s how SY learns that SJ had made a deal. Holy shit, he’d thought it was just random phenomenon this whole time, but the original goods had made it all possible? He didn’t know whether to thank SJ or curse him.

But that can’t be the whole story—Xin Mo opened up a timeline, that doesn’t explain why SY is here. Bingge doesn’t know this part, but it sure feels like SJ made a second deal, paying with his life.

What would motivate the original goods to do all this? Sacrifice his hard-won cultivation and his entire existence in this last-ditch effort?

The memory of YQY’s glitching came to mind.

Holy shit. SY owns the two of them more than he’d ever thought.

After the punishment, SY goes back home. He’s with Binghe, and LBH can tell there’s something troubling him.

“Binghe, there’s something this husband wants to do, and I need your help to do it.”

“Shizun, anything.”

“...But there’s a risk it might hurt you. There’s a risk it might ruin everything. It might be straight-forward, but it also might not be. It’s safer for all of us—but especially you, Binghe—if I just let things be.”

“But it’s not something that Shizun can just let be, is it? Otherwise Shizun wouldn’t have said anything. Binghe is honored to help. Anything to ease Shizun’s mind.”

“...I promised I wouldn’t let you come to harm again, and I meant that. Whatever happens, remember that I am your husband, this is my call, and you must do whatever you need to do to protect yourself, okay? Swear to me, Binghe.”

SQQ begins figuring out how to use Xin Mo to go fetch SJ from the other timeline. He figures that if Bingge could exist in this dimension without destroying the space-time continuum, the same ought to be true for SJ. Only trouble is, he can only go get SJ after SJ’s made the deals, because otherwise it’s a paradox, and he wouldn’t exist.

So SQQ brings home limbless, post-torture!SJ. That’s where the fic starts.

By all accounts, the deals are squared: SJ no longer has cultivation and SJ died in SY’s dimension, so SY successfully exists. SJ and SY can exist in the same space totally fine, and SJ begins healing.

(Currently, the fic is completely from SJ’s POV, and very much about coming to terms with being saved and what the hell is going on in this better world.)

The trouble is, SY doesn’t know what’s going to happen when SJ meets YQY again. SJ very thoroughly declines the offer to go see YQY because part of SJ still believes this whole thing is a trick, and if he goes to see YQY he’ll ruin his end of the bargain and YQY will die again. For SY’s part, he’s afraid of SJ going to see YQY too for similar but opposite reasons—if SJ going to see YQY ruins SJ’s end of the bargain, then wouldn’t that mean SY can no longer exist? Would SY just disappear from this universe?

So we get ragtag group therapy fun times. SJ thinks this is probably all an illusion Xin Mo is tricking him with, so treats everything with scorn but also existential apathy. This actually works to his benefit because he’s not clinging to things as hard, and it’s easier for him to admit, for example, that he was definitely in the wrong for abusing LBH, and yeah he was being a spiteful bitch when he did not need to be.

SY tries to keep LBH away from SJ mostly, because c’mon, he’s not about to make his darling husband face his childhood abuser. He does explain the situation to LBH though, in the same terms that Bingge had (mis)understood it lmfao—that the act of saving LQG’s life had prompted an entire 180 on his personality so he came out of the spirit caves a better man. LBH’s jealous as fuck of course, but damn if that doesn’t explain some things. Given the opportunity to see his old and new Shizun side-by-side, LBH takes it, and really gets a moment to see how horribly he’s been treated by SQQ.

So it actually prompts some therapy between SY and LBH too. LBH used to figure that getting pushed into the Abyss was squared by SQQ sacrificing himself to save him. But ofc it turned out SQQ came back and kept on, in his perspective, trying to get away from him. Trying to leave him behind. SQQ’s tried to treat his abandonment issues by going “okay sorry about that I’ll never leave you behind again” but he’s never really explained it.

SJ’s presence gives Binghe the ability to ask the question again and gives SY an answer: shame and cowardice. They’re able to put SJ’s mistreatment of Binghe right in front of them and SY-as-SQQ gets to explain how much it hurt to look back on that bit of their past, but also how much he feared LBH's retaliation. LBH is a little hurt, but also he remembers how he’d raped SQQ under Xin Mo’s control and, looking at what’s left of SJ now, he sees his own darkest possibilities. He really did destroy the man he loves now in another timeline. That helps him contextualize SY’s fears and why SY chose to push him off the cliff.

LQG crashlands into the middle of this whole party as is his wont. He gets a little fix-it too maybe. SY very staunchly repeats the reason for his personality swap—saving LQG in that cave made him a Better Person™. Meeting the original goods again, LQG is forced to believe it. Or like, it doesn’t really matter to him either way, but now he really does see pre-cave SQQ and post-cave SQQ as two completely different people.

SJ though, has to swallow this really weird pill. He remembers trying to save LQG inside the cave but failing, and then getting blamed for LQG’s death. If he’d succeeded, he and LQG would’ve become...this close?? A life debt between them would’ve changed his outlook on life so much???

Well whatever. Now that he’s put down all his old posturing, he more readily gives his reasons for why LQG gets on his nerves so much: the insufferable confidence (arrogant prick), the skills to back it up (privileged bastard), and a flawless cultivator family with all the money and the training and the pedigree. (Meanwhile SY’s like “oh shit that’s me too hahahahah awkward, good thing he still thinks i’m him so he doesn’t just murder me immediately.)

LQG’s a little weirded out too. SY-as-SQQ is his favorite person in the world, so it’s hard to get angry at SJ-as-SQQ since they’re “the same person.” He’s more willing to talk all this out with SJ and brings up all their old beef on his side too: high-handed snootiness coupled with underhanded dick moves, also the whole sleeping-with-prostitutes thing hurting Cang Qiong’s reputation. Ofc they’re snapping at each other this whole time. “There’s no reason for you to do all that!”

SY intervenes if needed. “Actually there is.” Considering the fact that SJ gets indicted for so many things that actually turn out to be not his fault, SY figures he’ll just get it out there. “Remember Qiu Haitang’s accusations against me? I grew up a slave in that household. I grew up believing it was kill or be killed—it doesn’t make sabotaging others right, but...that’s why the Spirit Caves made such an impression on me. I learned it wasn’t just kill or be killed, I can also save people. It opened my eyes to everything I already had, and everything I should be grateful for.”

This is for both LQG and SJ. And it works, to some degree. SJ knows he managed to claw to the top of privilege, but he still felt horribly insecure there. That’s because, he realizes, he never got the thing that would actually grant him security. It's not power or money or reputation—it’s Qi-ge. Holy hell he misses Qi-ge. In anger and betrayal, he’d pushed YQY continuously out of his life, but when faced with certain death the only regret he actually had was bringing Qi-ge down with him. YQY was meant to have survived, and in this world, he did.

So now, after all that, SJ really, really wants to go see his Qi-ge. It’s nice to have survived (and gotten part of his power back—at the very beginning, SY gives one of SQQ’s eyes to SJ as a bit of his golden core in order to save SJ’s life), but it’s so damn hard to live on in this world knowing YQY is only so far away, still very deeply attached to Xiao Jiu.

They try to Cyrano it at first. SY-as-SQQ goes to YQY with SJ’s voice in his ear, telling SY how to treat YQY as him. YQY is so fucking touched and hopeful, and SY is damn uncomfortable. He goes running back to SJ and says it’s not going to work—it’s not going to work because he’s no longer Qi-ge’s Xiao Jiu. He’s Luo Binghe’s husband, okay? He can’t go back to YQY as SJ.

SJ’s fucking furious at first (what kind of shitty variation of himself saves LQG’s life and then falls out of love with Qi-ge???? bitch?????) but what can he do? LQG tells them YQY’s on his way here and SJ hides for now. They still don’t know what will happen if SJ meets YQY, so SY continues to front as SJ for now.

But during this conversation, something changes. Maybe YQY says something, but SJ realizes he’s actually a little willing to take this chance. If Qi-ge does disappear—easy, he’d just kill himself right after. He’d already experienced Qi-ge’s death twice before, and at least this time, he can follow, knowing he’s at least reconciled with Qi-ge through SY.

And if he disappears on his own, then at least he knows there’s a world in which Qi-ge does not die horribly. That’s enough for him.

That, however, leaves the very last possibility—that SY will disappear. At this point both LQG and LBH have figured this out, and are very, very reluctant to let this be the scenario. They don’t see it as two people, they see it as their version of SQQ vs. YQY’s version of SQQ.

So there’s a little tension, but in the end, SY gets the final choice. As soon as he learns SJ is willing to go see YQY, he chooses that path. He simply owes qijiu too much to deny them the possibility of reconciliation. So despite knowing he might disappear from Binghe and LQG’s life, he makes it happen.

(They should get a very painful goodbye scene.)

SY goes out to explain things. “Zhangmen-shixiong may have noticed my change since my qi deviation and the spirit caves.” “I’m happy Xiao Jiu has a brighter outlook on life.” “Yes, but I think Qi-ge, of all people, might actually prefer how I was before, right?” “If Xiao Jiu’s happy, I’m happy.” “Yes, but Shen Jiu wants you. Is that alright?” “—of course. I want Xiao Jiu too—”

SJ comes out. Everyone holds their breath.

Scene cut.

It’s said that Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan disappeared suddenly one afternoon...

But jk, YQY just ran away with SJ, they’re recuperating in the mountains and everybody’s fine and it’s a happy ending.

#...nice #that's the whole fic planned then #sv fix-it

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princeofvelvet · 3 years

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69 shicest?

Send me a number + a ship

69 - Yandere

Hey anon you might have meant yandere swd but ive been really feeling sqx obsessed with his brother to the point of madness and that’s what i bring. I hope you enjoy regardless! But be warned there’s Dub/non-con, drug use, manipulation and hypnosis ahead (and the Shiblings fucking)

Shi Qingxuan sat on the bed, waiting, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of his mind the more seconds passed without a sign of his brother. He closed his eyes and stilled his breathing as if to sharpen his senses to the shrill cry of the longevity locket over his heart should it start to call. It wasn’t rare for his brother to extend the time he spent with his friends, and usually Shi Qingxuan let him off after some pouting and teasing, playing hard to get or making him jealous telling him about Ming-xiong, but today Shi Qingxuan’s patience had bubbled up to a boil more intense than their jealous entanglements.

When Ge came in through the door, Shi Qingxuan did not bounce up to greet him like he usually would. He was facing away without moving, with the deceptive calm of still water.

“Qingxuan?”

He ached to throw himself into Ge’s arms and taste his lips to make sure no one else had been on them, to ask for proof that he’d missed Qingxuan as much as Qingxuan had missed his Ge.

“Did you have a good time with your friends?” Shi Qingxuan asked, hoping not to make his aggrieved state too obvious. Ge’s robes hit the floor and his knee came up on the bed behind Qingxuan.

“Mmh,” he said. “Ling Wen ditched us early to go work.”

The pit of his stomach shriveled, but Ge did not seem to notice, brushing aside Shi Qingxuan’s hair to kiss up his neck.

“So it was just you and Pei-xiong tonight, drinking?”

The mind could do awful, terrible things, and Shi Qingxuan’s was on fire thinking of anyone touching his brother, his husband, his. Shi Qingxuan’s. No one else’s.

Ge was too busy kissing him to pay attention to the question. He smelled slightly of alcohol, but it was mellow, he wasn’t drunk. Qingxuan gave in, turning his head and kissing him back, breathing a sigh of relief into Ge’s lips when he found no other taste.

Shi Wudu let himself be pushed down on the bed while his little brother undid his inner robe and found the front of his pants, but before going further, he parted the kiss and reached for something on the bedside table.

“Drink with me?” Qingxuan asked, honey-sweet, holding a cup up to his face.

Shi Wudu squinted at him suspiciously.

“You drink first.”

“It’s just wine.” Qingxuan pouted.

Despite shooting him a suspicious look, Shi Wudu wasn’t about to deny him anything, no matter how small. He downed the cup in one gulp, which made Qingxuan smile. He poured himself more wine in the same cup Shi Wudu had drunk from and downed it just the same. He seemed happy.

The kissing resumed with a fiery fervor that slowly died down as Ge’s body relaxed from the medicine. Shi Qingxuan continued like nothing, stroking Ge’s cock before guiding it to his pussy.

“Qingxuan, what…”

“Shhh.” Shi Qingxuan drowned his question with a kiss, sliding down Ge’s length until he sat on his hips. “Ge, just promise Qingxuan you won’t meet Pei-xiong anymore,” he whispered against his lips.

Shi Qingxuan began to move, slow at first, and then at a pace he knew his brother would enjoy. The kind of medicine he gave him worked best when the person taking it was at their most agitated. Shi Qingxuan didn’t want to hurt his brother or make him suffer, so he chose pleasure to excite him enough for it to take effect.

“You won’t even remember him, promise me, yes?” Shi Qingxuan rubbed her breasts on her brother’s chest, fully taking on a female form for him.

“Qingxuan, wait…”

“You won’t even think about him...”

Her fingers wandered down to rub her clit as she whispered to her brother, aroused more from the idea of Ge finally being only hers than with the sex itself tonight.

Shi Qingxuan was barely awake when he noticed Ge was already up and sitting at the foot of the bed, putting on his shoes.

He tried to call out but only managed a sleepy groan that nonetheless caught Ge’s attention.

Ge turned and accepted the hand that Shi Qingxuan had extended towards him, and kissed his knuckles. “I’m being called on a mission, you go back to sleep,” he said, tucking Shi Qingxuan’s arm back under the covers.

“Will you come straight home after you’re done?”

“Where else would I go?”

“Thought you might want to visit Pei-xiong.”

Ge’s forehead creased with amusement, like he thought Qingxuan was just sleep-talking.

“Who?”

#the marvelous askventure #shicest #tian guan ci fu #shi qingxuan #shi wudu #made me write #i was busy with deadlines and stuff I was not ignoring u anon #im free now tho #for a bit

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unsteadyshade · 3 years

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Despair

a/n: this contains spoilers for volume 8 chapter 13! after watching the episode, i had a sudden burst of inspiration and wrote this as soon as possible. it’s not meant to be a prediction or anything similar, but it’s an avenue i wanted to explore. there will be pining and lots of feelings all around. the finale will likely derail this, which is why i want it up as soon as I can. some of the fastest writing i’ve ever done is here, so excuse the mess. but then...maybe that’s better for this particular scenario. enjoy...and i’d love to know any thoughts you have. AO3

For the past several minutes that feel like a lifetime--like a life, like her teammate's that was just lost into the abyss--Weiss has been doing her best to assist Penny against Cinder. She's getting tired though and can tell her friend is too. Penny's body is still new, and Weiss has seen her stumble a few times in the fight already, something also unfortunately noticed by the Fall Maiden currently smirking at them.

"And I thought fighting the Winter Maiden would be harder. You should've just stayed a machine. But I guess...it makes sense that you'd want to create something new for yourself. That power must have called you to the staff." Cinder's eyes flash with fire. "I wonder what that feels like--"

"I will not let you take this power! I am the protector of Mantle and the Winter Maiden now. I refuse to--"

Cinder's sharp, sharp laugh cuts her off, eyes gleefully scanning the panicked people below her. Those who haven't fallen off, at least. Her smirk grows along with the fire in her palms. "Silly girl. You never had a chance, and you've made it increasingly harder for yourself to stop me. What would your creator say once he sees how weak you are? After you've failed him and the people of this kingdom?" She charges again, and the maidens clash once more. Their fighting is fast and furious, Weiss choosing to conserve her energy until an opportune opening presents itself to assist.

While she's watching and waiting, Cinder's words cause a furrow in her eyebrows. She hopes that Pietro and Maria are alright. Then thoughts shift to her own family, and Weiss grits her teeth to stop herself from screaming. Are they alright? The portals to Vacuo are apparently working, but she hasn't had the chance to check in on them. All of them. Including her rotten father, once they'd move him. After that, Weiss hoped that her family would get some sort of closure and start healing together. It was what they--

"--Don't deserve this!" Cinder's furious cry snaps her out of it, and she jumps back in the fray. In the corner of her eye, there's a dark flash. A shadow. A friend. She brings up a glyph like they've practiced plenty of times before just in time for Blake to propel herself off, and suddenly there's more shouting. Blake's is anguished, and Weiss can't begin to imagine how she feels right now.

(Well, she can. But no one needs to know the secrets of her heart.)

As she's surveying her surroundings, Weiss catches a glimpse of her partner fighting Neo. Her eyes widen, and she meets Blake's frantic gaze. "We have to protect Penny." Blake's voice is shaky and troubled, and Weiss can't fault her for assisting her. They both turn back to the fight, newly motivated to help Penny end it quickly. In the meantime, Weiss has to trust that Ruby can handle herself. She does. She has to. Trust Ruby.

Lights flash, and blades continue to clash. There's an uptick in movement all around, and they're all breathing heavily under Cinder's relentlessness and experience with her own powers. It's unfair, Weiss thinks, left hand gripping Myrtenaster tightly as the Fall Maiden continues to taunt and toy with them. It's so unfair, Weiss thinks, grip tight enough that she's shaking once her mind decides to torture her again with Yang's face as she fell. There's a pressure building within Weiss, and she's telling Blake to buy her time before she realizes that she's on a knee and summoning a Nevermore.

The Nevermore. The one she, Ruby, Blake, and Yang all took down together. The memory is like a shockwave, empowering her enough to send Cinder flying. She thinks she sees her aura flicker out and goes for a slice of her own retribution for that scar she has from Haven Academy until Neo shatters that illusion.

When she looks back, Ruby is battered, bruised, but still standing. A surge of pride rises in her chest at seeing their leader, her partner and best friend, as strong as she is. Then she glances back just in time to meet Neo's next strike. She and Blake coordinate their attacks, but Weiss can tell that her teammate's movements are just a bit off. Too reckless. It reminds her of...

"Yang!" It feels like a lifetime ago already, but they haven't even been here that long. Ruby speeds in to help, and they knock her over the edge.

For the first time since Yang fell, Weiss hopes that the abyss is a point of no return.

Fire and heat--the wrong, unfamiliar kinds--draw her attention back, and Cinder's attacks start being unpredictable. It's not good for any of them, and their auras are all running low now.

With a wordless glance to her teammates, Ruby suggests a last ditch effort. It's time to stop Cinder once and for all. The younger girl looks to Penny reassuringly, letting her know that they've got this handled.

In no time at all, they'll be heading to Vacuo.

In no time at all, Cinder has managed to dig deep within herself to knock them back. Weiss doesn't have time to process Ruby's cry of pain or Cinder's triumphant laughter. She's clinging to the edge, staring down into amber eyes pleading with her. She knows what Blake wants; she stopped her from jumping earlier, after all.

(Even though she so desperately wants to do the same. Even now, with so much uncertainty hanging around them, Weiss wants to let go. But she can't. She can't lose--)

Near them, Ruby and Cinder are also barely hanging on. The way that they're fighting now is how Weiss imagines they might've fought two academies ago during a dance with missed opportunities for her. Then, Ruby is the one clinging to the edge, and she meets those familiar silver eyes. There's an exhaustion hidden behind unshakable determination, and Weiss knows she'd rather let herself drop than endanger Remnant with the risk of Cinder.

Ruby lets go, and Weiss is quick to follow. Blake still clings to her leg, and they lock eyes. Wherever they're going, at least they'll have each other. She can only hope that their leader will be there with them.

-----

Weiss has heard the word weightless before but never has she ever felt anything close to it. She's also--in all her days of knowing Blake Belladonna--never heard her friend sound so desperate. What is she saying? It sounds important, and worthy. A word, a name filled with weight.

"--not again. No please...Weiss!"

With a gasp, Weiss opens her eyes and sits up. Or tries to, at least. Her body feels disoriented from lack of aura and this odd...place they're in. She turns to where the sounds of sobbing are loudest and swallows the heartache within her. She needs to be strong for Blake, so she calls out. The voice that comes out is small, pitiful. But it seems to be enough for Blake to pause.

"...Weiss? Talk to me!"

"I'm here! I'm..." Weiss squints, unable to see clearly through the haze. It's not exactly fog, the ambiance too otherworldly for that, but it's still frustrating to peer through.

A strong, familiar body collides into hers, causing Weiss to groan as she falls. Instinctively, her arms wrap around Blake, and she indulges in the warmth of her friend for a few moments before the familiar conflicted feelings rise within her. She sighs and murmurs, "I'm here..."

"I know. I thought..." Blake doesn't elaborate. Her sniffling, tight hug, and visible tears say more than words ever could.

"It's okay. We're okay." She's not sure if that's objectively true, but Blake needs all the comfort she can get right now. The words seem to have some effect, Blake nodding furiously against her shoulder. Weiss isn't even aware that she's been sobbing until she stares up at what she presumes to be the sky and is met with blurriness, the wetness around her eyes letting her know that this is all too real. "We're okay," Weiss repeats, quieter this time.

They take a few moments to themselves, for themselves, before Blake lets out a shaky sigh and sits up. Her Faunus ears flop downward, and Weiss holds up a hand to stop the unnecessary apology before it comes. She has to bite back a comment about how cute Blake looks, but that's nothing new.

"I...needed that. Thank you." Weiss just nods, not wanting to admit how much she needed that too. Blake needs strength--she'd likely prefer her partner's, but Weiss tries not to think about that--now, so she'll support her like she always has since they reconciled. She stands, feeling a bit more steady on her feet, and scans their surroundings. There...doesn't seem to be much of anything. It makes Weiss frown as she extends a hand and pulls her friend to her feet.

The location is unfamiliar enough that Weiss starts pacing, a hand to her chin as she thinks out loud. "We...fell, and I think we're still alive somehow. Whether that's by design or through luck, I'm not sure. But we should find a way out or through this abyss. And if we're alive, then it stands to reason that Yang--" Blake's ears perk up at the mention of her partner, and Weiss quickly turns around as she continues. "--Is also still alive."

"That's good." Blake states. Then, with a smile Weiss doesn't have to see to hear, she repeats herself. "That's good!" Weiss smiles despite herself and exhales shakily.

"Right, so we should probably pick a direction and start walking." She's surprised when she doesn't hear an immediate response and turns to see Blake looking at her with furrowed brows. It's the look she gets when she's scrutinizing something, and Weiss swallows, plasters on what she hopes is a believable smile, and opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by Blake's concerned voice.

"Is everything okay? We don't have to start moving right away. We both took some hits up there, and I don't mind resting."

"No, we can't stop. We have to keep moving--" Blake's hands gently clasp hers, and she quiets immediately, looking up into amber eyes filled with worry.

"Do you remember back at Beacon when I wanted to push myself and not rest?" Weiss nods, a small grimace forming from the reminder. "And do you remember how well that turned out?" She huffs, rolls her eyes, and nods again.

"So you don't want me to end up in the same state," Weiss concludes. The small smile Blake gives her makes her heart skip a beat, which she tries to ignore with another roll of her eyes. Still, she concedes--a cornerstone in their bond, Blake and Weiss giving to each other what their predecessors have refused to--with a sigh. "Fine. We both need the rest anyway."

After a quick scan of their sparse surroundings reveal nothing new, Blake shrugs and pats the spot next to her on the ground. Weiss sighs but sits by her, surprised when she's immediately pulled closer. Blake drapes an arm around her, and it's only then that she realizes she's been shivering.

"For someone who grew up in Atlas, you get cold really easily." Blake teases, but Weiss is too busy trying to will the blush she feels creeping up away and her heartrate suddenly speeding up down to a normal pace as the words brush against her ear just so. She can't help the quick breath she takes in or the way her eyes close as she tries to think of anything but how much distance separates her from Blake. Her mind decides to remind her of an earlier time full of uncertainty when they were on their way to Argus and the blanket and soft look Blake had given her then.

Gasping sharply, Weiss opens her eyes and stares at her friend, her expression just as caring as it had been in the recesses of her memories. Her lovely face is all it takes for Weiss to break. Between everything that's happened since arriving back in Atlas to the seemingly unending events in the past hours that bled into days that bled into now, Weiss sobs. She sobs for herself, for Blake, for Yang, for Ruby, for her family, and she's not sure where the lines to those bonds start and end. Then Blake pulls her into a tight hug, and she's not sure if it's better to pull her closer or push her away.

She's not sure how long she sobs, but Weiss eventually calms herself enough to hear the light humming Blake presses into her temple. The realization that Blake's lips are softly pressing into her skin is enough for Weiss to jerk away, trying to escape the strong arms around her. Blake abruptly stops humming, a confused noise replacing the comforting sound. Weiss shouldn't be here. This close? Physically and...otherwise. It's not right; it's not her place.

When she regains enough composure to face Blake again, Weiss lets out a shuddering breath before doing so. Blake has yet to let go of her, and it makes her heart ache for entirely new reasons. Because if--when--they find Yang, how long would it take for Blake to let her go? “I apologize for that. It was--”

“No, it’s okay.” Blake pauses, voice unsure with her next words. “Did I...do something wrong?”

Weiss can’t think of anything more incorrect. She wants to tell Blake how brave, kind, and selfless she’s been like she did back in Mistral with Yang--and oh, they all really have been orbiting each other since Beacon--but the words won’t come out. It’s somehow harder to tell Blake now. Instead, Weiss swallows those words and says something else.

“No. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“What do you mean?” Blake asks, her voice as soft as the blanket she draped over Weiss on the road to Argus. It unravels Weiss, and she’s not sure if what she’s about to confess will be foolish or not. Still, she faces her friend because eye contact is the least Weiss can give her.

(The most is her heart, but Blake already has that.)

Carefully, Weiss takes Blake’s hands along with a shaky breath in. Amber eyes watch her closely. “Blake, there’s something I have to tell you about myself. There’s never been a good time to bring it up, but after everything we’ve been through and the uncertainty of the future, I can’t keep this to myself any longer.” Another breath in, a secret out. “I’m queer.”

“You are?” Blake’s voice is uncharacteristically high when she asks, and there’s an unfamiliar flash of something new and awed in the amber eyes that can’t seem to decide where to look.

“I am.” Weiss says, confidence filling her tone and heart. The initial reaction doesn’t seem to be negative, which eases that grating imposing voice in the back of her head that filled her with doubt.

“That’s wonderful, Weiss. Thank you for telling me. I...” Blake looks away for a moment, suddenly shy, though it does nothing to hide the small grin on her face. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind an ear, and Weiss’s pulse picks up from the simple action. “I’m bisexual.”

Well, it’s nice to have it confirmed. Weiss had suspected ever since her teammate had returned with more confidence and lingering glances aimed at her partner. But how can such a confession make her heart soar and break at the same time?

“It’s nice to know I’m not alone,” Weiss comments, when she can’t take those adoring eyes any longer. Blake’s grin widens, and her ears flicker excitedly.

“It feels good to admit that to someone.” Blake cocks her head, curious now. “But why did you decide to come out now?”

“I...” Weiss sighs, feeling the exhaustion weighing her shoulders down. “I have something I need to tell you. I don’t expect any particular response, but with the end of the world and possibly our lives imminent...I can’t hold this in any longer.” She turns to face her friend. “Blake, I’m not sure when exactly this started, but I...like you.” A pause. “As more than just a friend, if that wasn’t clear.”

“O-oh...” Weiss sees emotions too quick to name pass over Blake’s face until she has to turn away. Her friend is deep in thought, and Weiss looks down at their hands. She doesn’t know what she was expecting from this, honestly. When had Blake ever looked at her more fondly? When had Blake ever felt--

“I’m flattered, Weiss. Really.”

“But...?” Weiss presses, wanting the rejection to as swift and straightforward as possible. It’d ease her mind, if not her heart at least.

But the rejection doesn’t come. Or at least not in the way Weiss thought this conversation would go.

“When Yang came back, we spent some time talking. You...came up a few times. She really wants to see your Nevermore summon and wants to be a part of your growing bond with your family. She’s--we’re both--proud of you. You’re an invaluable part of our team.” Blake looks her in the eyes. “Our family.”

Weiss’s pulse picks up, and she has to focus on staring at Blake’s hands to avoid looking into her eyes. She’s not sure where the conversation is going now, and it’s not helping her nerves.

“Family...?” Weiss repeats, uncertain.

“It’s what you called us in front of Jacques,” Blake says softly. Weiss remembers that clearly, the comfort of Blake’s hand grounding her then as it does now. “Do you know what that means to me?”

Still refusing to meet Blake’s eyes, Weiss shakes her head. Then, Blake unexpectedly takes a hand away and tilts her chin up. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Well what’s that supposed to mean? Weiss opens her mouth to ask but ends up gasping softly instead when Blake presses the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. She lingers, and the warmth of her lips against her skin makes Weiss’s face gradually heat up.

“What...?” It’s all Weiss can say in the face of her crush in an attempt to not embarrass herself. She’s not sure if she should move but doesn’t want to leave the sudden warmth surrounding her.

“Yang and I...” Blake has to pause and breathe in deeply, the motion rocking through Weiss’s frayed nerves. “We’re not--I never told--” She pauses again, and Weiss can practically hear the thoughts racing through her head. “Oh...I get why you felt like you had to say something now.”

Weiss wraps her arms around her, shaking her head at how they seem to constantly be comforting each other. There’s silence between them--not uncommon or unwelcome--for a few minutes as Weiss listens to a rapid pulse, unsure if it’s hers or her friend’s. If it is Blake’s, who is she thinking of? She’s not sure if she wants to know.

“I suppose we’re in the same boat.” Weiss states once the silence stretches on for longer than she’d prefer.

“Same boat...” Blake repeats lowly, the words tickling Weiss’s hair. She leans back, and Weiss is afraid for one second that she’ll pull away completely. But all she does is look at Weiss, a spark of wonder in her eyes. “I guess we are...but we owe it to ourselves and each other to have an honest talk about this once things settle down.”

“You’re not rejecting me?” The words escape Weiss’s lips faster than she’d like, and she clamps them shut immediately afterwards.

Blake purses her lips, and Weiss does everything in her power to maintain eye contact. “It’s...something I’ve never thought about.”

“Me?”

“N-no...” Blake turns a bit pink, and Weiss marvels at the reaction. “I have thought about you...all. Back in Menagerie, I couldn’t wait to get back to you. Then once I saw the three of you again, I’ve never felt the urge to run towards and away from you so strongly. You were the first one to reach out to me for the team hug, and...” She swallows. “You mean a lot to me, Weiss. But I think we all need some time. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” Weiss responds immediately, still reeling from the lack of a rejection.

Blake’s smile is nothing short of beatific as she stands and extends a hand to help her up. “We’ll talk about this later. For now, why don’t we go find our girl?”

Our girl. The words seem to open a new door in the back of Weiss’s mind filed with more possibilities for them--all of them--even if she doesn’t have a concrete idea yet. And sure, they’re trapped in an unknown location surrounded by uncertain circumstances, but Weiss is feeling hopeful that their team will reunite eventually.

She takes Blake’s hand, and neither of them let go as they start traversing the area.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! it was an experience writing this, but i felt oddly inspired. i rushed to finish this before the finale airs, and depending on what happens, it might get a continuation. or maybe if one is requested? we’ll see. thank you for reading!

#bees schnees #bee’s schnees #rwby spoilers #suffer with me #feel free to yell at me

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Tony Stark

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~11k Notes: Tony’s birthday is an important holiday in my life - so I decided to celebrate with this cute little fic. @stark-bb supplied the beauty for the end & I’m really happy with the way it turned out. Happy Birthday, Tony - this is how 50 should have gone for you! Warnings: endgame fix-it (kind of), NSFW stuff, hurt/comfort, insecure!Tony Summary:

It's Tony Stark's birthday - which means there's tons of reasons to celebrate. Check out his relationship with Peter over the course of two birthday's.

For his 50th, Peter goes all out - but is it really the night that Tony wanted?

Or, the one where Peter plans a party and all Tony wants is his love instead.

Read it on A03 here

In retrospect, after Thanos, actually getting to 50 was a miraculous thing.

It took him and Bruce 6 months to figure out how to bring everyone back after the snap. The easiest part of it all was going back in time to collect all of the stones – despite a couple of little hiccups, the job was well done. The gauntlet Tony constructed could easily be coined as one of his greatest technological masterpieces – and when Cara Danvers came back looking for Nick Fury, their answer to who would yield it was nicely answered.

There wasn’t much time between the stones being used and the gauntlet being stolen right out from under their grasp. With the total annihilation of Avenger’s tower, it didn’t seem all that surprising that they were all of the sudden looking down into the abyss of a full-on war. There were so many of Thanos’ troops that for the first little bit of the battle – it didn’t seem like they were going to get anywhere close to winning.

Then, the portals opened up and every single person Tony could remember ever hearing about or seeing stepped through. His eyes caught and kept Peter’s when Cara pulled him out of the ditch with the gauntlet held tightly in his arms. There were so many other things that were important in that moment – the world was on the cusp of decimation once again – yet, he couldn’t break the eye contact. He didn’t want to.

Pulling Peter into his arms the second he could felt like the most natural thing in the world – when the kid dusted in them not that long ago, the world felt a little less special. Now, the scale shifted back to normal. The picture of him and Peter they took when he put together his ‘internship’ was one of the biggest catalysts in his adamancy in figuring out how to solve the time travel issue and put things back to right.

He didn’t plan to press the kiss against his cheek – the adrenaline of battle and finally succeeding made it easy to override the thinking portion of his choice of actions. Peter melted into him and it suddenly felt more than okay. The mumbled “this is nice” drove home the point and Tony let himself have that – the embrace, the comfort, even the solace that came from having Peter back again.

The rage of battle swept them away from each other and for a while, Tony was focused on being the perfect distraction for Cara – her final move of sweeping and engaging just enough to get the stones off of Thanos and onto the gauntlet the single greatest in Avenger history. Watching Thanos drift away into nothingness felt more satisfying than Tony cared to admit – and when he fell to his knees, it was from being overwhelmed that maybe, just maybe, they saved the world for good.

Aftermath in the face of a tragedy that only half of the population remembered was a little weird. It took a lot of explaining to the ones they lost for everyone to make sense of the missing time – of the life that got put on hold because of a crazy vendetta. Tony tried hard to document the progress he and Bruce made through the construction of the time machine and their ideas about the stones so he could explain to anyone that asked. Though – it was unsurprising that Peter was the only one that even wanted to know.

So – Tony explained it to him. They talked through the schematics he initially drew up when solving the irregular blip that Bruce initially couldn’t. Peter’s questions were educated and the things he inferred before Tony could tell him were some that even Bruce did not conclude. He can’t help but be impressed by the kid’s true intelligence. Tony spent so much time trying to protect him, he never took the time to pay the closet attention to him as a person – to the extremely smart and talented individually Peter absolutely was.

In the end, the boy left with a much clearer understanding of the ins and outs of the journey to get him back. It appeased him a grand total of two days before Peter came knocking again. His excuse didn’t seem nearly as sound this time. He kept listening for May to come through the door even though he knew she was working the overnight shift – Tony could see it for what it was, a plea for distraction, for the company of another human being that wasn’t going to ask questions or wonder out loud about things that shouldn’t be spoken about ever again.

It quickly became a routine between them – Peter showing up later into the night with a feeble excuse to come in and spend time with Tony. Tony didn’t spend any time pretending, though – each time it happened, he opened the door and let Peter come in without worrying about the muttered excuse thrown his way.

Dealing with shit was a personal thing, the understanding of that was something Tony knew very intimately.

His own special way of dealing pulled him away from Pepper – their relationship crumbling at the seams when Tony refused to give up the suit. After everything, he felt it to be too big of a compromise – he loved her, but some things were bigger than ultimatums and their inevitable consequences. Losing half of the population made that pretty clear.

And though Tony hated to admit it, he came to rely on the kid’s presence – their late night tv binges one of the only things that chased the nightmares away. Despite seeing him on an almost daily basis now, Tony still dreamt about the way Peter faded from his arms, the impossible to hold feeling of dust running through his hands the worst part of it all. He figured they would stop when the world started to spin the right way again – yet, he couldn’t escape them. It took a lot more brain bytes than he originally thought to push away the few reasons he could come up with as to why that actually was.

No matter how much he didn’t want to think about it, letting Peter in all of those nights ago set the course for them. Tony couldn’t deny that he learned to heal a little more every single time Peter came through the door – the ease in their conversation slowly but surely becoming something that Tony couldn’t live without. They forged a closeness with every night that past – one that Tony quickly had to put in a safe category. There were so many times he found himself wanting to reach across the couch and grip Peter’s hand in his own. So quickly, Peter became a steady source of comfort.

Sooner rather than later, the Avengers were suiting back up – the idea of instituting regular rounds and patrolling schedules winning without question when Steve brought it up. If they were going to deal with entities like Thanos ever again, the need to be better prepared reigned supreme. Luckily, the rest of the group recognized his and Peter’s familiarity and always paired them up. It felt nice to work with him and Tony absorbed every single second of it. They were constantly learning together and when the time came to actually fight, they’d be prepared – some of their tag team moves way more than enough to truly debilitate an opponent.

Of course, being patrol partners meant dealing with the times that things turned to shit. Though there weren’t big time things forcing all of the Avenger’s to assemble, they still dealt with things that were dangerous. Peter, no matter how many times Tony shouted at him about keeping it on the safer side, refused to ignore intuition – even if it led him astray nine times out of ten. It was extremely frustrating, and the only downfall Tony could find with being back to saving the world so soon after the last time.

Things got interesting when Peter almost died taking down Mysterio. It took them a few minutes longer than they expected to get across the pond and into a position where they could help – so Peter handled a lot of it on his own. Tony was glad they spent all the time they did training – some of the moves Friday showed him were truly impressive and genuinely lifesaving. It felt shitty to find Peter broken and bloody – there was no mistaking the pure intensity of the battle that raged before him.

Tony pushed aside all of his personal feelings and helped solve the problem – the best thing he could do for Peter was get things under control, there wouldn’t be any need for the younger man to have to fight so hard after that. It took the two of them and some well-planned drop-ins from Steve and Natasha to put everything to rest. When things were finally over, Peter slumped over against Tony and howled, the tears just as much from frustration as exhaustion and pain. He didn’t let Tony detach the entire time Dr. Cho took a look at him – he stayed by his side and talked him through what happened – tried to keep him calm when a bone was reset and his body temperature worked off the sedative before it could actually numb anything.

It felt hard to separate Peter from the thoughts of caring, and protection, and on the weakest of days – love. He figured the idea of being a father figure wouldn’t be too bad. Tony wanted to believe that Peter leaned on him the way he would May or Happy. There were signs, though – signs that said the younger man’s feelings were way deeper than either wanted to think about at the moment. For the sake of allowing independence and growth, Tony didn’t pursue the obvious.

That mindset didn’t last very long – Peter had a way of being pretty persuasive. His 49th birthday crept toward them without anyone really noticing. Everyone was trying to figure out what post-Thanos meant – and the simplicity of a birthday didn’t seem to be on the forefront of people’s minds. It didn’t matter, anyway – the older he got, the more meaningless birthdays seemed to be. The world continued to spin and need protecting and want things regardless of birthdays.

When the day came, it surprised him to see candles sticking out of a big pile of Belgian waffles that morning – a smiling Peter and Bruce carrying the plate over to him. He shook his head and blew out the candles, the cheesiness of it just that – cheesy – but also very thoughtful and way more than he wanted or imagined. The waffles tasted just a little bit better that morning, too – which was quite the feat, because Tony loved waffles; absolutely fucking loved them.

The rest of the day past in a haze of bowling in the alley in the SI building, eating disgustingly shitty food, and good company. Bruce begged out after the third game and left Peter and Tony alone to duke out games four and five. Peter’s incredible strength worked against him in the end, Tony grabbed both the games and the overall win count for the day. It wouldn’t have hurt his feelings if Peter let him win, either – it felt good to feel good for once.

Heading back to the penthouse, Tony wasn’t surprised when Peter followed him up. From the beginning, Tony made sure to keep May in the loop – and at this point, as long as Peter was somewhere safe, she didn’t seem to mind. Peter probably took more advantage of that little giving piece of her, but Tony wasn’t one to complain when it benefitted him just as much. He watched the kid go straight to the fridge, the massive quantity of junk food they consumed just hours earlier obviously not enough.

“What do you want to do for dinner, Tony? Your fridge is kind of empty,” Peter said after a couple of minutes of leaning over and looking, then stepping away – like if he looked enough times, things would show up eventually. Grinning, Tony sank into one of the stools tucked into the kitchen island, his fingers knitting together.

“I hadn’t thought about it – I’ve eaten more today than I usually do in a week. Want me to order something? I bet we can get that Vietnamese place you like to deliver out here,” Tony mumbled in reply. He brought a finger to his glasses and tapped into Friday’s interface. “Can you order the usual, doll?”

Peter stood on the other side of the island across from him, his cheeks flushed. “You didn’t have to do that. I found an egg in there,” he remarked, his thumb hiking over his shoulder towards the fridge. “It’s your birthday – we should be doing what you want.” Peter tried for a serious look in his direction but failed at the last second – the soft ‘for Tony’ smile he’d come to be very familiar with over the last few months spreading across his lips. He leaned down onto his forearms, the two of them closer than ever now.

“We’ve done enough, Pete. Let me be an old man for the rest of the night, huh? Besides, we’re almost done with The Sopranos – I’m ready to see how it all ends.” Tony wasn’t lying, either – there wasn’t anything else he’d rather do. The thought of getting dressed to go out or partying the night away made his head spin. After all of the bull shit of the life he led, sitting around with takeout and good company didn’t seem all that bad.

The boy seemed to understand, the softness in his eyes answer enough. He shrugged his shoulders and pushed away from the island – Tony watched as he went over to the bar on the other side of the room and grabbed a small rock glass. Without much effort, he poured two fingers worth of whiskey into it and walked back across the room, the glass being passed to Tony before he could even understand what happened.

“You’re going to need that, then,” Peter finally uttered, his face breaking out into a smile. Tony watched the grin grow and internally documented all of the lines and grooves that played across the boy’s face. Peter must have noticed because his smile grew a little bigger. “Want to go hangout in the lab until the food gets here?” The question was shy, despite what felt like millions of hours they spent there together already.

Slamming back the liquid in the glass, Tony let the burn clear his head – his mind in all sorts of places it probably shouldn’t be. He caught Peter’s eye and nodded, his own grin slipping across reluctant lips. “It’s funny that you even need to ask.” Tony got up then, his neck swiveling to crack the stiff joints. “Shall we?” he asked, his head tilting when Peter didn’t move or even say anything.

He didn’t expect the clumsy hands Peter answered with, the boy grabbing his hips a little too tight, the strength in his arms bringing Tony against his chest. Tony let out a breath, his secret wants and desires coming to life before him – his brain shortcutting with the responsible thoughts that tried to break through the haze. His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders on their own accord, Tony losing the fight against himself with every passing second.

“Pete – “ Tony tried, his arms opposing his words, the muscles in his shoulders, chest, and biceps tensing and clenching, every fiber of his being wanting to be that much closer. Peter tilting his head until they were looking eye to eye stopped him in his tracks, though – the boy’s eyes bright with many things unreadable, except for one. Slamming his own shut, Tony pulled in a long breath, the look too much.

Then, lips were on his, and all thoughts ceased to exist for the few seconds that clumsiness turned into the hottest thing he’d ever felt. Peter’s hands moved from his hips to frame his face, the tightness of them bringing their lips closer together – Tony tilting his head at the very last second to stop their noses from colliding painfully. He sunk into it and forgot for a second what he needed to do when they broke apart.

The soft moan leaving Peter’s lips when the kiss broke made him press back in for another couple of chaste pecks – Tony hoping more than anything that it was enough to engrain the taste of Peter onto the surface of his skin. Dipping his head, Tony pressed their foreheads together, his eyes closing.

“You figured out what I really wanted,” Tony whispered, a laugh leaving his lips at the sound of the words in his own ears. Up until that point, he hadn’t allowed himself to even think like that. With Peter in his arms – it was easy, though. Like their embrace on the battlefield, Tony couldn’t help what his lips did this close to Peter’s person.

“You’re just a couple months too early,” he managed to get out, the few seconds of hesitation before doing so just enough to soak this intimacy in a little bit longer. “You know we have to wait.” Peter’s head became a little heavier against his own for a second, then he felt the slightest of nods – the boy way smarter than Tony ever gave him credit for. Pulling back, he put a bit of space between them, the only point of contact now his hand on Peter’s cheek.

While his thumb brushed the sharp bone there, Peter leaned into the touch – his eyes shut, the storm inside them kept under control by the lids covering them. Tony let himself look his fill until Peter was the one pulling away – the saddest little smile on his lips. “I know – I just – I couldn’t wait. I – Tony, you’re everything.” The words were earnest and if this were anyone else, he wouldn’t have even given thought to believing him. Peter constantly showed how much respect he deserved, so Tony gave it to him.

“Save that for later, okay? We’ll make your 18th one to remember.”

“Okay. Happy birthday, Mr. Stark.”

----

And boy did they – even a year later, Tony can still remember the entire day they turned into a week rather vividly.

He told Peter to pack a bag and let May know they were staying in the city for the week. For the first time in almost two months, Tony was finally letting him stay over again. He knew if he gave either of them any opportunity to give into temptation, they would – and this seemed like too important of a thing to screw up before it could officially be a thing. He didn’t want to give anyone – including the person who trusted Tony to be a good part of Peter’s life – the ability to question anything between them.

The second Peter walked through the door; the boy was on him – Tony barely able to get his glasses off his face before they were kissing. It didn’t make it past the necking stage, of course – Tony had too many plans to lose his shit on the couch in his front room – but it was nice to finally let himself touch and feel, to give into the want that so obviously coursed through them both. He let Peter squirm against him until he let out a satisfied huff and finally came up for air. “Happy birthday, Petey,” Tony mumbled against his forehead.

Coney Island took up the rest of the day – Tony laughing and smiling harder than he could remember, especially since Thanos. The ride on the Cyclone threw them into each other and when they got off, Tony wrapped Peter in his arm and steered them back towards the line, the two of them riding the coaster two more times before moving on. Peter insisted they finish the day at the aquarium – the boy totally obsessed with the penguins and otters.

When they got back to the penthouse, Tony led Peter into the bedroom, straight past the bed, and into the attached bathroom. He pushed him down until he was sitting on the edge of the tub and went about putting the necessary stuff for a bath in it. While the water ran, Tony took Peter’s clothes off one article at a time, his lips following behind caressing the newly exposed skin. Getting down to his boxers, Tony had him stand up and pulled them very slowly down Peter’s legs, the tips of his fingers tracing the same path as the fabric.

He stayed on his knees and lavished the skin on the inside of Peter’s left knee, then nosed his way up his right thigh – his lips landing on his hip, eyes looking up. “Get in the tub,” he mumbled, his eyebrows raising in invitation. Peter didn’t waste any time complying with the request – a soft sigh leaving his lips when he sank into the warm water.

Stepping back, Tony started the actual part of the bath that was for Peter. He slipped the buttons out of the slots on the vest he was wearing and let it hit the ground. The shirt came next, his fingers slow in the way they moved from one button to the next. A light shimmy had the button down flowing off his shoulders to join the vest on the floor. Kicking off his shoes, he hobbled about for a second to get the socks off – then straightened back out with sexiness written on his face once again.

Peter’s eyes were glued to his every move, Tony happy to see red trail down his cheeks, neck, and onto his chest with each new piece of clothing that came off. The boy was fisting himself under the water, Tony could tell by the wave and ripple of it. Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, Tony made quick work of his belt and the button on his slacks, the pants falling without much effort after that. His black boxer briefs stayed on for a second, Tony taking a couple of steps closer to the tub until he could lean down and press a kiss against Peter’s lips.

While they kissed, Tony pulled his underwear off, a little groan slipping out between them when his erection finally hit the coolness of the air around them. “Shift forward a little, babe,” Tony muttered, his body sinking easily into the water with the newly made space. Peter moved back and settled between his legs without any prompting, Tony’s chest now toasty from the combination of water and the boy’s warm skin. Wrapping his arms around him, Tony pulled him even further back – his cock trapped perfectly between his own stomach and Peter’s back.

Touching his lips to Peter’s neck, Tony let himself relax into the warm water and the sound embrace – the boy in front of him doing the same thing if the sagging weight against his chest was anything to go by. “Did you have a good birthday?” he spoke the words right beside Peter’s ear – the gust of breath having the desired effect as goosebumps launched themselves across his skin.

His head fell back against Tony’s shoulder, Peter’s hands moving until they were gripping the older man’s across his stomach. “It’s been great. This is the best part, though – finally getting to spend this kind of time with you.” It was obvious Peter meant each of those words, too; his voice took on such authentic tone when he was talking to Tony. “I love you, Tony. I have for a while.”

Though he suspected, Tony didn’t think he would hear those words for a long time. He forgot how mature Peter could be when he really put his mind to things. Tony moved his arms until he could cup Peter’s cheek, the boy shifting a little bit to look over his shoulder – their eyes meeting. “I love you too, Pete. I’m the worst possible choice for you, but I’m also incessantly selfish. You can have whatever you want from me.” Tony capped his words off with a soft kiss, his lips lingering just because they could.

“I just want you, Tony. I thought for a long time that I wanted to save the world, be a hero – and yeah, I still want that – but I want this, too. Simplicity. Your arms around me. I’m young, I know – I also know what I want, so don’t try and talk me out of it.” Peter practically huffed out, his last couple of words sounding a bit petulant. They made Tony’s heart jolt, regardless – the weight of them surprisingly heavy.

Who was he to dictate any of that part of Peter’s life? Tony did lots of questionable things in his youth – more than a few of them without thinking about it as thoroughly as Peter seemed to. There were no regrets in the pacing of their relationship and how very natural it occurred, so what was there to really hold him back? There were times Tony was selfish about much lesser things and at this point in his life, why hold now? Smiling to himself, Tony relaxed even further into the porcelain of the tub.

“I’m not going to try and talk you out of anything. It might suck for a little while – telling everyone and explaining ourselves, but I’m with you.”

That was about a year ago and while Tony was right – it was a hassle to constantly answer questions and defend a thing that felt so natural to them – things were also too good to really be that upset about it. They went about telling the team first, these people fought with them on a constant basis and needed to understand the decision they made. It took a bit of talking Steve from the tizzy he spun up and a few well placed “I know exactly how you feels” to get everyone to calm down enough to talk to Peter about it.

The old guy of the group grabbed Peter’s shoulder, Steve’s eyes seemingly trying to stare right into his soul. “He’s old, Pete,” Steve started – the rest of the group breaking out into varying degrees of laughter around them. Tony prickled for a second, his pride a little hurt from the implication – but what could he really do? When compared to Peter, he was old – generations older, in fact.

Peter’s hand grabbed Steve’s and dislodged it, usually soft brown eyes serious, his gaze just as sharp. “So are you.” Tony watched him bite into his bottom lip and unsuccessfully trying to stop laughter from bubbling in his chest. “I don’t care. I’m old enough to understand all of your concerns and appreciate them – but I am politely ignoring everything you guys have to say. I want this. He didn’t talk me into it, he didn’t groom me,” Peter stopped then, his eyes trailing over to Rhodey who spoke the traitorous words earlier. “He’s just my person, you know?”

After hearing that, Tony figured no one could stand between them. Not even May – who surprisingly didn’t seem shocked or upset about the situation. She glared at Tony for a long minute, then pulled him into her arms. “If you hurt him, I’ll do the same – got it?” she whispered, the arms “hugging” him tightening ever so slightly.

“Noted,” Tony replied instantly, his hands patting her back lightly. He caught the look Peter and May shared when they pulled away and had to try very hard not to burst out laughing in her face. They were both stubborn, the older man instantly understanding where Peter got it from. Wrapping his arm around Peter, Tony pressed a kiss to the side of his head, the boy relaxing into him.

“The hardest part is over,” he mumbled into Peter’s hair, the hand on his shoulder bringing him more tightly against his chest.

----

Despite being with one of the most caring humans on the planet, Tony’s 50th birthday loomed over him. For whatever reason, it felt like a big one. The age difference between him and Peter never played a part for either of them – yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about how glaring it actually was. Sometimes when he picked Peter up from HIGH SCHOOL, he felt incredibly old – and the closer his birthday got, the more ridiculous it seemed to be picking someone up from secondary school.

He didn’t give a shit about it – not for him, at least. The older person in the scenario always got the better end of the deal. Peter was loving and kind, young to the point where some of the shit he pulled out of his ass to refer to was adorably offensive. No – he didn’t really get what Peter saw in him. At least – lately. Maybe that mid-life crisis was finally sneaking up on him – the idea of that laughable after some of the crazy stuff that went on his life.

In the last couple of weeks, Tony felt some of his self-worth starting to diminish a little bit. Which was literally silly – Peter touched him, kissed him – practically worshipped him on a nightly basis. Feelings weren’t always rational, though. Every time Peter mentioned the big party he was planning for the occasion, Tony felt himself curl in a little bit – his affinity for not hurting Peter seemingly the only thing keeping him from shouting about how little he wanted to attend a party celebrating his old ass.

Peter flourished, though – so he didn’t stop him, not even when his heart started to race when his young boyfriend talked about all of the Avengers and their travel plans to meet at the complex. It was nice that they all wanted to come back and celebrate – he just hated the fact that they were celebrating such a long milestone on Tony’s account. He told himself to grin and bear it, though – it couldn’t possibly be that bad.

And since Peter was really wrapped up in all of the planning, he didn’t get the subtle hints that Tony tried to make. His “maybe it can be just you and me” wasn’t said early enough and when he thought to bring it up – his mind went to all of the plans Peter made; the way his caring, so very loving boyfriend thought every little thing out.

The night of, Tony went through the motions – he donned the suit (because let’s face it, Tony looked damn good in a custom Gucci suit.) The barber Peter paid to come in and clean them up did a good job on his facial hair and the slight trim of the longer strands on the top of his head made him feel the slightest bit better. Whenever Peter caught his eyes in the mirror, Tony could genuinely smile back.

They walked in together hand-in-hand, which Tony still felt a little giddy about. He milled around and did the right amount of small talk – his chest feeling a little warmer with each hug he got from his Avenger family. Tony did all the right things until he found an out, the anxiety that was building starting to clutch at him, the shininess of the night a little too bright for his tastes.

Walking into the lab, Tony breathed a sigh of relief, his muscles unclenching for the first time all night. He slipped off his jacket and got to work on a couple of modifications to the nanotech he was implementing into the suit – the response time still a little slow for his liking. For the first time the entire night, Tony felt the weight lift off of his chest. He got so zoned into what he was doing, he didn’t see Peter walk into the lab – or really acknowledge his presence until a hand was on his shoulder.

“I thought I might find you here. What happened?” His voice was soft – though, Tony also sensed the slightest bit of tension sitting under the surface of those words.

He bought himself some time by swiping across the holoscreen, his work dropping down into the folder to be pulled out at a later time. “It got a little crowded in there.” He mumbled with a shrug, his eyes nowhere near meeting Peter’s. “I got an idea and kind of had to run with it.” That excuse almost as lame as the first one.

Peter’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, the boy’s strength keeping him against his chest – forcing him to give up some attention. “What’s really wrong, though? You’ve been a little off lately.”

So, he did notice. Clenching his eyes shut, Tony gave in a little, his body leaning into Peter, letting the younger man take a bit of his weight. “I’m just old – I didn’t want to celebrate that. But, I didn’t have the heart to say anything.” He felt deflated as the words left his lips – the strain of it finally climbing its way down and off his heart. “I’ve been having a moment and I love the hell out of you for doing what you did. I’ve been doubting why you’d want me and it’s so obvious, isn’t it?” Tony leaned his head against Peter’s, so much defeat within him.

For a man that saved the world, he didn’t feel very strong in that moment. Being in Peter’s arms made him vulnerable and, in that moment, he couldn’t find a way to stop the avalanche tumbling him down the cliff. A couple tears streamed down his cheeks before Tony could even think to stop them. Peter’s thumb was there in an instant, mopping them up without a second thought.

“It is – but that’s okay. I should have noticed – I mean, I did, but I was excited. You did say you wanted it to be just you and me. Can we start that now? I’ve got a pretty decent idea,” Peter whispered, the leverage of his hands on Tony’s face bringing their eyes level. “I love you, Tony – today is about you, not me.” Peter let the words sit between them for a second, the boy giving him time to say no if he really wanted.

Instead of answering, Tony closed the space between them, Peter’s lips warm against his own. Tony gripped the side of Peter’s suit jacket and simply let himself go – the younger man taking control of the kiss without a single problem. Tipping his head to the side, a soft gasp left his mouth when Peter took advantage of the position and started to press his tongue in deeper. The tangle of heat there absolutely delicious.

He felt himself being pushed back, his feet moving on their own accord until the edge of the lab table hit his lower back, another moan leaving his lips. With the kiss broken, Peter put a little bit of space between them and went right for Tony’s belt – his nimble fingers getting the thing undone and his button open within seconds. The innocent Peter from a year ago did not exist – the younger man had no problems pushing his pants and boxer briefs down enough to get access to his cock. Lips wrapping around him pulled a “fuck” from deep within him, his control ticking down to nothing.

“Pete – “ Tony grumbled, his hand camping out on his boyfriend’s shoulder, fingers digging into the suit jacket there. Peter worked him over effortlessly, the boy’s tongue trailing down his length as the swallowed him whole. The tip of his dick hit the back of Peter’s throat time and time again – his hips pressing in that last little inch when the other’s hands reached back and used his ass cheeks to pull him forward. The tears in Peter’s eyes welled, but he pulled him deeper anyway – his mouth stretching obscenely.

The gulping sensation of Peter’s throat restricting against his already pulsing length brought him to the edge embarrassingly quick. He moved his fingers up Peter’s neck into his hair, his grip tight after a particularly delicious suck from the tip of his cock all the way down to the root – Peter’s cute little nose dirtily pressed into the nest of well-trimmed pubes. “Oh god – Pete. I’m going to cum. You’ve got to stop. Pete!” Tony spoke helplessly, his free hand scabbling at the table behind him.

Tossing his head back, Tony felt the snap of too much arousal in his gut – his hips pressing forward totally out of his control. “Pete, fuck!” He let out a series of groans with every hard suck against the head of his cock, Peter obviously very keen on milking him for all that he was worth. Tony forced himself to loosen the grip in Peter’s hair, a soft wince leaving his lips when a couple strands of hair caught between his fingers. Desperate for the feel of those spit slick lips against his own, Tony pulled Peter up off his knees and slammed their mouths together.

“What about you?” Tony mumbled against his lips a couple of minutes later, the taste of himself on Peter’s tongue almost enough to get him ready to go again. His fingers were desperate to get their hands on Peter’s skin – the older man hoping for just a little bit more.

Peter grabbed Tony’s hand and pressed it against the crotch of his pants – the wetness there apparent, the suits pants totally ruined by the mess he made. “I think we should head upstairs and see where the rest of the night takes us.” He grinned and gave Tony another kiss, his hands greedy in the way they helped him get his pants up – in the way he pulled Tony out of the lab and into the elevator.

Surprisingly, Peter didn’t try anything in the elevator – he kept Tony against his chest, arms slung tightly around him. “I love you,” the boy mumbled against the shell of his ear, the ride long enough for the intense zing to cool off a bit – the softness of his words perfect for the moment.

“I love you, too.”

That was just the calm before the storm.

Tony followed with hungry eyes as Peter started to take off his clothes the second they hit the penthouse – his bow tie hitting Tony’s cheek before the older man could process what was even happening. Eyes wide, Tony didn’t hesitate to stay on Peter’s heals and try to touch the newly revealed skin with hungry fingertips.

Getting into the bedroom, Tony expected to find a naked Peter in his bed – instead, the naked man was standing at the edge, an expectant look on his face. “Come here,” he beckoned, his long fingers hypnotizing enough to draw Tony in right away. His feet carried him over there – skintight with excitement of what was to come. “Get on the bed, Tony.” Peter’s grin was too good to ignore, so he complied immediately.

Lithe hands made quick work of his shoes and socks – Tony moving up a little further on the mattress when his feet were bare. Peter continued his exploration by moving to the button on is pants and pulling them and his underwear down his legs without hesitation. Soft fingertips explored the soles of his feet, nails running over the arches. “I love how strong your legs are. You’re not the tallest guy – but you’ve got these legs that carry so much weight.” Tony slammed his eyes closed, his brain not able to take the words and the sight of Peter all at once.

The younger man peppered kisses up his legs, over the ticklish part of his knees and across the long length of his thighs – his skin pebbling with the physical sign of arousal. Peter moved up after that, his fingers getting Tony’s buttons open without much effort – the boy touching the newly exposed skin with reverence – eyes glued to Tony’s. “Your stomach is my favorite. You’re stacked – there’s so much muscle there. And then you’ve got this slight little swell here,” Peter moved his hands to run over the littlest bit of stomach Tony hadn’t been able to get rid of over the years. “Reminds me that you’re human, you know?” He let his tongue swirl across the skin there.

A soft touch to his face had him blinking his eyes open, Peter’s face wide open – the heat there, totally encompassed by the lightness the other was trying so hard to portray. Tony nodded his head then, a little smile playing on his lips. Peter returned it, his exploring fingers moving once against to his chest – his nipples pebbling with their attention. “It’s hard to forget sometimes, too,” Tony whispered, chest coming up off the bed to press into Peter’s touch.

A couple minutes later, Peter urged him to turn over – his teasing touches starting up the second his flesh was on display. The younger man’s fingers pressed into the muscles of his shoulders and back, the touch just as soothing as it was arousing. He made a trail from the back of Tony’s neck down to the valley of his lower back with tongue, teeth, and lips – each nip and lick taking him apart inch by inch.

Stopping at his ass, Peter grabbed a cheek in each of his hands. “This is my favorite, though. You’ve taken to wearing those tight slacks and it’s a total tease. I want to take you apart, but then, I want to see your ass clench and flex in those pants,too. It’s distracting, Tony. And I think you know that.” Peter emphasized each of his words with sharp bites to each round globe – the stimulation of the skin there causing Tony to groan, his muscles clenching.

“I like the way you look at me,” Tony managed to groan out, his hips pressing back to get more of Peter’s touch, anything and everything the younger man could give him. Peter rewarded him with another stinging bite on the meat of his right ass cheek. “Fuck, Pete – “ his words felt a little slurred, each one dripping out with any consent of his own.

“I know – and that’s what makes it hotter. Your ass is kind of forbidden. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve had it over the last year,” Peter drove his point home with a not so subtle yank of Tony’s cheeks apart – the air hitting him cool, a sudden chill rushing over his already tender skin.

Fingers pressing against his hole brought Tony to mere whimpers – Peter was right, he didn’t usually do a lot of time in this position, the vulnerability usually making him uncomfortable. There was something in the way Peter was handling him that made him want to give in and let Peter take and give and bring them both to their fucking knees, though. The other seemed to take his noises as a good sign and got to work.

Despite being 50 years old, Tony never got used to the feeling of a tongue in, around, or up his asshole. A laugh fell from his lips – the feeling their foreign and overwhelming, his gut filling with shame and heat all at once. Peter wasn’t discouraged by anything and went to town – his tongue tracing Tony’s rim before pressing in, the tip absolutely devastating in the way it plunged and caressed. The looser he started to feel, the more Peter doubled his efforts.

Soon, fingers were joining Peter’s tongue, the rhythmic press of blunt fingers and a warm tongue a complete mixture of sensations and stimulus – the feeling absolutely fucking perfect. He didn’t feel old when he gave his cock a little thought – the length was raging, the hardness there throbbing with needy want. It felt good – Peter made him feel good. Groaning at a spectacularly good press of Peter’s fingers, Tony bit into the pillow below him – Peter made him feel so fucking good.

“Pete – I need you to fuck me, please. Show me. Show me how much you want me. Need it – need you, baby.” He couldn’t explain what he said or how he said it or even if it made sense; his brain was running on want, adrenaline, and the dopamine that made being delirious feel like the warmest hug – like it was the most exquisite thing in the entire world. His breaths were coming in pants, Peter’s last few thrusts glancing his prostate deliciously.

He felt the younger man move behind him, the bed shifting with his weight. Tony heard the drawer open and let out a sigh of relief – Peter’s weight draping over him the best feeling of the night. “I’ll take care of you, Tony,” Peter said, the words skating across his skin – Pete’s fingers already working the lube into him, the fingers there not nearly enough.

The party a few floors below them probably heard the loud groan Tony let slip from within him when Peter bottomed out. The stretch of not being all that used to the fullness inside him made all of his limbs break out in what felt like waves of fire – his brain stuck between the pleasure-pain of the feeling. The fact that Peter didn’t give him any time to think about it before bottoming out completely helped and the leering blaze of pain that tried to stick around went straight out the window – the heat in his core pooling once again.

Kisses against his neck and the hands running down his sides relaxed him enough to let Peter move – the younger man’s cock thick, his length the perfect combination of inches and girth. For such a young person, Peter kept amazing control over himself – his strokes long and lazy, the best part coming from the exquisite roll of his hips when bottoming out; his prostate getting a gentle nudge with each one. Tony didn’t do anything other than squirm below him – his mind was everywhere, filled with nothing but the things Peter was doing to him.

“You feel amazing, Tony. Fucking amazing,” Peter babbled, the boy’s strokes picking up without either of them noticing – the pace natural, the steady climb of their love making slowly getting to the ultimate crescendo. “I don’t know how you can do this for as long as you do – I want to cum already. I’m going to coat your insides so that every time you even think about not being enough – you’ll remember the way it felt to have me pulse everything I have so deep inside of you. Fuck. I’m so close – “

Tony shouted – Peter’s words and the increase of pace getting him from hot to completely bothered in no time at all. The other’s weight pressed him against the mattress, every thrust brushing his cock against the soft sheets below him. His eyes were clenched tightly, Tony determined to let his mind and body wander – Peter’s guiding hands the only thing that mattered in that moment. “I love you, Pete,” Tony choked out, his head turning to catch Peter’s glance over his shoulder. When they caught eyes, the look in Peter’s tossed him over the edge – the younger man’s mouthed ‘I love you, too’ way, way, way too much for him to handle.

Peter miraculously held on for another handful of strokes, the younger man keeping his promise – his overused hole clenching with every pulse he could feel. The repeated Tony played in his head like a mantra – Peter’s voice the only one he wanted to hear say his name for the rest of his life.

----

When the immediate fatigue of orgasming within the inch of his life wore off, Tony coerced Peter into the shower – the younger man still covered in sweat and lube. The stayed wrapped around each other trading kisses back and forth – Peter continuing his trend of taking care of Tony; the young man surprisingly thorough in the way he ran his fingers through long locks and scrubbed the dirt, grim, and cum off his skin.

The last couple of hours were exactly what he was looking for – and Tony told Peter so more than a few times between getting out of bed and finishing up in the shower. His boyfriend simply kissed him, the boy obviously not looking for any sort of praise. After all they did for each other, thank you’s were a little meaningless – both men more than capable of expressing their gratitude in many different ways.

Pulling on a pair of sleep pants, Tony got back into bed on Peter’s instruction. The younger man walked out of the room for a couple of minutes – Tony laying back against the mattress, the feeling of contentment lingering in his mind for the first time in a while. There were many things Peter did for him – but this, the never-ending feeling of comfort, that’s what Tony liked the most. Being the 50-year-old man that he was, having a person that could bring him that was the best birthday present Tony hoped to continue to keep on getting.

The snick of Peter’s bare feet on the floor brought him out of his thoughts – the younger man carrying a box with him when Tony sat up to watch him walk back into the room. “I know you said no presents, but I think you’re going to like this one. I only spent money on one part of it – and it wasn’t that much, so don’t be upset, okay? I’m 99% sure you’re going to really like this.” Watching Peter babble about it made up for the fact that his boyfriend once again ignored his wishes (though, the longer they were together, the longer Tony figured Peter did that on purpose – because it was a fun game between them.)

Tony reached out to Peter, his fingers beckoning the younger man into bed. “I won’t be upset – just come sit with me while I open it.” He didn’t care how needy he seemed – today was his birthday and Peter was hell bent on catering to him. Peter didn’t disagree, anyway, he easily slid into the bed next to Tony, the box still in his hands.

“So, I guess I should explain this a little bit before you open it,” Peter started, his fingers playing with the bow on top of the box. “You’re always talking about how you miss everyone – and how it would be a lot easier if you had tangible memories of things. I know you’ve got all the technology in the world and could make that happen if you really wanted to. I mean – you still use Friday to watch me sometimes, you can’t even deny that.” He chuckled then, his face a little red from nervousness – the emotion easily read on his face.

“Anyway – I wanted you to see that people love and miss you, too. That, despite what you might think, the world would not be the same with you and the 50 years you’ve been kicking around it.” Then and only then did Peter let go of the box – his eyes flitting back and forth between Tony and whatever was in the damn thing.

Taking a deep breath, Tony pulled the top off, his head tilting when he saw what looked like a photo album sitting there. He peeked up, but Peter’s eyes were staring at the album in the box, the expression on his face unreadable. Tony took a deep breath and dug in, his curiosity winning out over any other emotion that was vying for his attention.

Opening it, Tony’s breath caught – the cover page was one of the professional photos they got done a couple months ago. The smile on both of their faces was stunning, the love written there obvious. A few of those photos were in frames around the room. In big letters it said, ‘To Tony Stark’ and under the picture the words ‘from the people who love you’ were written there.

He flipped the first page and almost lost it – the collection of him and Rhodey during college making him want to cringe and rush back up to the party all at once. His hair cut during that time of his life wasn’t the greatest – an instant regret for the party in the back look he tried to pull off for a little while washing over him. On the far side of the page, a note was written.

Happy birthday, old man!

When Peter brought this up, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to embarrass the hell out of you. College is where you changed my life and it’ll always be one of my favorite times in life. Thanks for the memories, Tones – I love you, brother.

Rhodey

Tony glanced up, a few tears streaming down his face freely. Peter shook his head, his eyes moving back to the album in Tony’s hands. “You’re just getting started – keep going.”

He didn’t have anything left in him to argue – so he turned the page, his heart warming up a little further. The shots of him and Bruce in the lab were some he’d never seen before. There were a couple of more recent photos in there, too. The combination of Bruce and the Hulk still something that made Tony laugh to this very day – the symbiosis between the two entities just another thing to add to the long list of things that changed over the years.

Tony,

There’s too much to say and not enough space to say it. Learning and progressing and creating with you over the years is why I am the way that I am. We saved the world together, brother – that’s the ultimate bond. Thankful for you and your arrogantly brilliant ass.

Happy birthday, Tony – enjoy it.

Love you,

Bruce

There were so many pages filled to the brim with photos of him with various people – Happy, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Thor, even Wanda and Vision. They each wrote individual notes and recalled shared memories and little thoughts and blurbs about his progressive old age and the notedly selfless way Tony could care about people. It was overwhelming – each new page eye opening, his perspective of himself and the relationship he had with these people progressively changing. This was how people saw him? He spent so much of his youth having people slander his name – it almost didn’t make sense that people could feel this kind of way about him.

When he got to the last couple of pages, Tony couldn’t stand it – he reached over and pulled Peter to him, his face settling into the safe confines of the other’s neck. “I can’t believe that you did this, baby. It’s – the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” Tony spoke the words so reverently, his entire being still a little bit in awe of what he’d seen – of the kind words that some of the best people he knew wrote about him, each one way more than he ever could have expected.

Peter wrapped his arms around him and held him close – the younger man pressing kisses against his hair and forehead every few moments. “You’re still not done yet,” the younger man reminded him – Tony pulling back to find a soft look on Peter’s face. “I think you might like these last couple the best.”

Suddenly spurred on by Peter’s words, Tony shifted his attention back to the photo album in his hand, eager fingers turning the page to find pictures of himself. The look on his face in every single one of them radiated love and excitement and pure happiness. He didn’t usually like pictures of just him – no matter how much Peter begged, he didn’t even send the man he loved selfies. Yet, he couldn’t peal his eyes away from these. Lifting them, he looked questioningly at Peter. “What are these from, even?”

Chuckling, Peter reached over and let his fingers brush across the ones within reach, the ‘for Tony only’ smile pulling his lips wide. “I took these, actually. When we first started dating, I got into the habit of snapping a picture of you when you looked happy. Then, it became a thing to catch those looks whenever I could. You’d be surprised by the number of pictures I had to choose from.” Peter spoke the words with pride, the creepiness of them not even registering with the younger man. Tony grabbed his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles – his eyes alight.

“I’m not surprised by anything that you do, Peter Parker. They’re beautiful – I didn’t know I could look like this,” Tony remarked, his voice carrying all of the awe that he felt. It warmed his heart to know that Peter was the one making him look like that – they were good for each other, but it was nice to get a real example of it.

The thought of what could come next had Tony moving on – the apprehension making his fingers tremble as he turned the page. And man did it completely knock the wind from him. The last page was a collection of pictures of him and Peter – some he’d seen before and a few he hadn’t, the candid nature of them making it seem like they were taken by other people. His chin dropped a little, the evidence that Peter felt the same way right there on the page. Some of these pictures were old – a couple of them obviously before they got together.

Reaching over, Tony grabbed Peter’s hands and tangled their fingers together – he would probably need the added strength to read the long note there. Peter’s words always had a way of bringing him to his knees, he doubted this would be any different. The other’s hand gave his a squeeze, Tony diving in the very next second.

Hey you,

When I first started this, I never thought I’d get to learn so much about you. I especially loved your college hairstyle – totally my favorite.

I know there’s not a lot you can give a person that is both a genius and a millionaire – but I figured memories are priceless and the easiest thing I could give you. Not just memories between you and I, either. We’re just starting our journey.

I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this is – there’s nothing wrong with the years you’ve lived. They have given so many people things that are priceless. Friendship, love, mentorship, knowledge. All of those things are important. You are a manifestation of each one and that is the person I get to love on a daily basis.

Every single one of your years will always matter, Tony. I’m forever grateful that you want to spend the ones you fought so hard to get with me. That’s not something that I take for granted. You teach me things I’ll never be able to learn from anyone else. You care for me in a way that is devoted and careful – like I’m the most precious piece of china you’ve ever been given. And the way you love me, Tony, it’s something that is unexplainable and completely mind-blowing. You give yourself so fiercely – it just takes a little while to truly understand what that means.

You’re my hero, Tony. And I don’t think I’m the only one that feels that way.

I love you.

& I happen to think that’s inevitable.

Happy birthday, Tony

The tears were falling freely now – the day taking a completely different turn than he expected. Between the tenderness, spectacular sex, and this insanely heartfelt gift, Tony was out of his mind with feelings he couldn’t classify. He never liked his birthday. Whether it was a reminder of how lonely he was or a big spectacle for the people that wanted something from him – it never seemed to be the occasion that others could make out of their own special days. Though it didn’t change his opinion about the day in general, Tony wasn’t afraid to admit that the day with Peter by his side was substantially better.

He didn’t hesitate to use both hands to palm Peter’s cheeks and seal their lips together. His wet face made the kiss a little messy – but neither of them seemed to care. Feeling Peter give into it, Tony tilted his head and deepened the kiss, the closeness just right for the situation. “I love you, Pete. This is – I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Leaning their foreheads together, Peter rubbed his nose against Tony’s, his eyes closing as he leaned into the connection between them. “I love you, Tony. I’m going to take care of you for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever then?” Tony asked immediately, the words tumbling out on their own accord.

“Yeah, baby. Forever.” Peter answered, his lips finding Tony’s again.

“Happy birthday, Tony Stark.”

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tvehyungs-gf · 4 years

Note

Hey baby can I get 3,19,95 for jk if it Hasn’t been done 🥰⚡️⚡️💕💘❤️

Stuck in abyss - Jungkook Drabble

✧ You’re the only one I want.✧ It’s three in the morning.✧ I’m not going anywhere.

Voice full of passion despite how raspy it hurts, the boy held her tightly in his embrace. Forehead sweaty, lips aching to be touched, Jungkook had never felt so needy in his 21 years of life. The girl before him held tears in her sparkling eyes, lips pursed a thin line. “I’m not going anywhere.” She assured him but he didn’t believe her.

Jungkook only held her tighter. “I don’t believe you.” He said truthfully. She whined at the tight embrace but she had no means of pushing him away, of letting go. Not anymore. “I want to believe you but I can’t.”

“I want to believe myself too.” She whispered with guilt tracing each syllable. Her salty tears dripped on his black jacket, staining it a shade darker. The two stayed like that for minutes, not moving with no intentions of letting go any time soon. “You know, you’re the only one I want, right?”

Jungkook hummed into her hair. “I know.”

They were finally reunited after what seemed like decades. Jungkook being on tour was the main cause of their distance. And now, finally, she was beside him in his arms, at least for now. He was never too sure with her.

Y/N had a habit of letting go and walking away when things didn’t turn out how she wished and it was selfish of her to do so. Every time Jungkook was having a hard time, she was never there. It was as if she didn’t exist when things were rough. She was there when he was happy - when he was okay. She was here and there, never there fully but not truly gone. Jungkook didn’t care though, she was going to come back every time she left. At least, that’s what his mind and heart tells him, even if it was just an illusion.

When they finally pulled away, Jungkook leaned his forehead against hers. “You smell.” She laughed, tears gone and dry. “We should head back to the hotel so you can shower.”

Jungkook nodded in agreement. “Are you going to stay with me?” He held her cold hands in his. They always seemed so cold lately.

Y/N sent him an endearing smile. “Of course, Koo. I plan on staying with you for the rest of eternity.”

A blush rises on his cheeks, “Promise?”

Instead of replying, Y/N smiled and pulled him towards where the rest of the staff was waiting for him. They all held sad frowns and it was making Jungkook upset. Why are they sad? They just finished a successful concert, everyone should be happy, right?

Deciding that they didn’t matter at that moment, Jungkook hopped in the car but he was quickly confused when Y/N didn’t join him. “I have to take a separate car to get to you.” She said, her voice chirpy. “I have to go with the staff. Don’t worry about me!” She waved bye as the security closed the door on the two, Jungkook only sat there staring out the window confused.

He looked away for a second to put his seatbelt on and when he looked back, she was gone.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jungkook asked in a panic. His eyes peeked over Taehyung’s shoulder to scan the empty hallway for the angelic girl but she wasn’t there.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung asked perplexed, his lips parted slightly as he unknowingly clenched his hands into fists. “Why are you asking about her?” Taehyung almost seemed offended that Jungkook even dared to ask him. It was odd.

Jungkook furrowed his brows together, “She said she was going with the staff but they arrived an hour ago and she’s still not here…”

“Jungkook…” Taehyung took a deep breath and squeezed the younger’s shoulder. “You should sleep, you seem very tired.” Taehyung gave him a small frown. “She’s where she has always been. You don’t have to worry about her anymore.” The elder looked away from the maknae’s eyes and looked to the floor.

“But she’s here! How can I not worry about her?” Jungkook pushed Taehyung’s hand away and walked out of the doorway.

“Because she meant nothing to you!” Taehyung turned around to watch Jungkook pace around the hallway in panic and it made him a little irritated. “She was just a friend to you, Jungkook. Stop being delusional and get that straight! She meant more to me than she will ever to you.”

Jungkook scoffed, “I’m the delusional one?” He stopped pacing around and charged at Taehyung, pushing him against the wall harshly. Taehyung grunted at the impact. “You’re one to fucking talk, hyung.”

Taehyung gritted his teeth angrily. “You’re the reason why our relat-”

“What is going in here?” Jimin yelled cutting Taehyung off and pushing the two off of another. “Taehyung you should go back to your room. And Jungkook, you need to rest. We need to talk about this tomorrow.”

Taehyung gave a hard glare to Jungkook before walking off, but not without giving him his final statement. “You’re the reason why I think about leaving this band every single day. Ever since… then, you have become a foolish, delusional asshole.” Taehyung shook his head with a loud sigh. He had no more words.

Jimin sighed, his heart ached in agony and pain. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that everything resulted to this. Jimin can only hope things will turn out better soon as he watched Jungkook retreat back to his room with a slam of the door. Relaxing his shoulders, Jimin made a mental note to apologize to the hotel staff and their manager for being so loud at this time of night in the morning.

“Taehyung…” Jimin rushed off to catch up with his best friend. “You okay?”

The eldest of the two finally noticed the tears in Taehyung’s eyes. “Never felt better.” He responded sarcastically. Taehyung pursed his lips onto a straight line as he stopped walking with Jimin standing beside him. “Is it my fault?”

Jimin raised a brow in confusion. “Eh?”

“Is it my fault that he’s like this?” Taehyung burst out into quiet sobs. Jimin quickly pulled the crying boy into his embrace. “I don’t understand why he’s going through that. It should’ve been me. I’m the one who had to deal with all the pain, with the images, with the phone call - with everything.”

The shorter man only stood there comforting his friend, he didn’t have the heart to stop him from pouring out his feelings. Taehyung needed this, he needed to vent, to let out his emotions, to cry his heart out, to let the pain stop hurting him. “I walked away just fine and Jungkook… he’s suffering. He’s fucking suffering! All because she didn’t have the heart to tell him to back off! He never listened to me, no, he ditched his morals behind and continued to be infatuated. I hate him for that. I hate him with all my guts.”

“Stop saying that.” Jimin pulled away. “Stop saying you hate him.”

Taehyung shook his head. “I don’t lie, Jimin. I absolutely hate him and that’s that.”

Jimin couldn’t help but yell. “Taehyung you’re not the only one suffering from what happened! We all are!”

“Whatever.” Taehyung turned away and walked off to his room. “I just want to be alone. I won’t be making it to rehearsals until it’s my turn tomorrow. And after that, I’m leaving. Don’t bother calling me either, I won’t be answering.” And with that, Taehyung slammed his door closed.

Jimin frowned. The air between the group is too suffocating, deadly even. And the fact that it’s been like that for more than a month is concerning, usually, if there’s an argument or something going on between any of the members, the air will be cleared the same day it started - but not this. And unfortunately, there might not be a way to clear the air around this either.

With a saddened heart, Jimin ended up in Namjoon’s room to pull a group meeting without Taehyung or Jungkook. They needed to talk about the two badly.

Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed with his head resting on his hands. The quiet night seeped through him making his mood darken more than it already was. Confusion erupted through his mind as tears unknowingly brimmed his eyes. Why was he feeling this way?

There were so many questions he needed to know the answer to but the one he needed to know the most was what did Taehyung mean and why did he act that way?

Sighing, Jungkook laid back on the bed with his legs dangling off the edge and feet planted on the ground. Suddenly, a knock disturbed the silence flowing in the room making Jungkook sit up quickly.

Opening the door, Jungkook was greeted with his Angel. “What took so long? Are you okay?” He panicked, hands flying to Y/N’s shoulders.

She giggled with a slight nod, “Yeah. I’m okay! I had some things to do before I came.” She sent an endearing smile to the panicked boy before nudging him inside the room. A pair of eyes burned through her from the hallway but she was quick to escape into the room for safety. Jungkook sat down on the bed with a plop.

“Listen…” Y/N started, her smile faded away. “We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Jungkook straightened himself up. “D-did you see what happened in the hallway…?”

“With you and Taehyung?” Y/N sighed, her happy persona was gone entirely. “I did. And it’s my fault.”

Jungkook watched as Y/N sat down beside him on the bed, her hand attached themselves with Jungkook’s. Her hands were almost frozen - so cold and lifeless. “I don’t understand? How is anything your fault? It’s hyung’s! He’s been weird and it’s like… it’s like he hates me for something I did.”

Y/N bit her lip. Her mind wandered back to the dark pair of eyes she saw in the hallway before she looked at her lap with frown. “He hates you for loving me.”

“Huh?” Jungkook slid a knee on the bed as he turned sideways to face the girl. “He’s jealous? That’s no reason to fucking hate me! Or to leave the fucking band! What the fuck?”

“No stop Jungkook. I-” She wanted to cry but she couldn’t. Her body no longer produced tears. “You’ll find out why tomorrow. I just… Let’s just go to bed, okay?”

Jungkook sighed in agreement. He didn’t have the energy to argue anymore.

As morning came, Jungkook felt cold. The cold arms weren’t wrapped around him anymore, the other side of the bed was empty with no traces of anyone ever being there. Jungkook’s mind was fuzzy with a question that he couldn’t answer: Was there someone here with him?

His head was hurting and he felt sick. And then suddenly, the seven pairs of eyes dawned onto him. Quickly, Jungkook sat up noticing the rest of BTS and their manager was gathered around the mini living room. His lips parted, mouth dry. Out of nowhere, Jungkook felt parched.

“You finally woke up, I see.” The eldest of them all spoke, voice stern, and eyes staring. His stare was harsh but the dark discoloration under his eyes said he was more than exhausted. “We need to have a talk. Now. We don’t have time.”

Jungkook found himself nodding before he could even think about doing so. Quickly, Jungkook stood up and rushed to where everyone sat around. The boys were quiet, their faces too were full of exhaustion but not as much as their manager. However, what stood out the most was the fact that Taehyung seemed not only miserable but he seemed… saddened and angered.

Sitting down beside Hoseok on the couch, Jungkook looked at their manager, Sejin.

“Look,” Sejin began as his arms folded across his chest. “There… have been some issues here and it’s obviously no elephant in the room but it’s getting ridiculous. I hate how you boys are not talking this out like you usually do. First and foremost, Jungkook, we need you to tell us what is going on.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked dumbly. “Shouldn’t you ask hyung? He hates me for no reason!”

Taehyung glared at Jungkook but didn’t bother saying anything. He only turned away with his arms folded across his chest.

“Jungkook…” Jimin looked at the youngest with a frown. “Tell us how you feel… Is there something more happening to you than you’re willing to letting on?” Jimin stood up from where he sat beside Taehyung to sit next to Jungkook. “You’ve been acting weird and saying weird things.”

Jungkook tilted his head confused. “I-…” He started, his mind was still fuzzy. Everything was confusing. It was like, his memory was missing bits and pieces of something or someone. “I don’t know…” He looked at his lap to fiddle his thumbs. “If I’m being honest, I feel like I’m missing pieces from my memory. I don’t even remember what happened last night. I mean, I do, sort of?”

Namjoon made eye contact with Jimin, his eyes full of worry. When Jimin gave him a slight nod, Namjoon’s face deepened with anguish. Everything that they talked about last night was true, his suspicions were usually never wrong.

Clearing his throat, Namjoon spoke up. “Tell us what you remember from after the concert.”

“Okay.” Jungkook sat up straight and tried to recall everything he could remember from yesterday. “We had the concert, obviously. And after the concert ended, I walked with you guys to the dressing rooms before I got a text message.”

“From who?” Hoseok asked.

“Uh… I can’t remember.” Jungkook sighed. “Ach!” He yelped, his hands quickly flew to his head. “Crap!”

Instantly, Jimin and Hoseok held Jungkook. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?!” Everyone, excluding Taehyung, gathered around the younger boy. Despite feeling the way he did, Taehyung watched worriedly as Jungkook yelped in pain.

Jungkook nodded, his eyes closing shut from the pain that erupted through him. It lasted about a minute before he felt fine again. “My head was hurting really badly.”

As everyone sat back down relieved but still concerned, Jungkook suddenly remembered everything. “I remember.” He said pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Y/N texted me.” He unlocked his phone to look through his messages but there were no recent texts from her. The most recent one dated back to almost a month ago. “I probably deleted it.” Jungkook shrugged.

Taehyung’s head shot to Jungkook instantaneously as everyone else. Their ears perked at the name. They said nothing as Jungkook continued. He was oblivious to the fact that everyone around him was giving each other glances and making eye contact. “Anyway, she said she was there so I went to go meet her. After that, we talked for a bit before I headed back to the hotel. She said she was going to meet me there but she didn’t show up till a while later. However, she said she saw everything that happened in the hallway with hyung and I though…”

“Jungkook,” Jimin said getting everyone’s attention. “No one was in that hallway except for you, Taehyung, and I.”

“I know that.” Jungkook nodded.

Yoongi sighed, “Then how would Y/N be able to see everything without you knowing she was even there?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I-I don’t know, okay? She was probably around the corner from the other hallway or something…”

Manager Sejin sighed, “Jungkook. What happened after you… saw her? When did you see her?”

“After Jimin and Taehyung hyung left. She showed up and we talked for a bit before going to sleep.”

Seokjin, who sat beside Yoongi and Namjoon, gave them a pointed look. And they all knew, beside Jungkook, that it was time. Everything Jungkook told them just confirmed their speculations they talked about the night prior. “Jungkook.” Seokjin stood up sadly. He wished things didn’t turn out this way. “Y/N… She’s not here… anymore.”

“What do you mean…?”

Seokjin bit his bottom lip, he didn’t have the guts to tell him anymore. Yoongi stood up and squeezed Jin’s shoulder. “You’re imagining her, Jungkook.”

Jungkook sat on the bed lifelessly. He stared into nothing, his focus in his thoughts. “You’re imagining her, Jungkook.” Those words kept repeating themselves into his head. Why couldn’t he remember what happened to Y/N? Was he really imaging her? Was she really gone?

His head pounded again. Was he going insane? He felt like he was going crazy inside his mind. With questions flooding his brain, he didn’t notice the hand that was placed on his shoulder until the sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Jungkook…” Y/N whispered, her lips so close to his ears.

“No!” He shook his head and nudged her hand off his shoulder. “Please no… I don’t know what’s going on but please, leave me alone. It’s three in the morning and I’m tired and confused.”

Y/N sighed and climbed off the bed before setting herself on her knees before Jungkook. “We need to talk first. I’ll leave you alone once we talk… please.”

Jungkook peeked through his hands and finally agreed. She stood up and sat beside him on the bed. It was quiet for a moment until Jungkook had enough and decided to speak up. “Are you real?”

“Jungkook…” Y/N looked away from him when she felt the pair of eyes on her again. She looked ahead and there stood Xiumin, her assigned reaper. He gave her a curt nod. His face was full of sympathy, which is weird for a grim reaper, but Xiumin was different. He had feelings and he hated his job, to an extent at least, but he loved helping souls stuck in purgatory find their way to heaven.

Y/N was no different from the other souls he was assigned to. She had some things to do before she was able to move on and Xiumin was more than happy to help her relieve everything that was holding her back from moving on. Taehyung was the first person she had to see. From seeing Taehyung crying about what happened, she felt pained but she couldn’t cry. She could only watch and wish that he would be able to move on, but she knew that Taehyung couldn’t until Jungkook did.

And that’s where Jungkook came in. She knew of his feelings for her when she was alive, but she was too late. She was just too nice and afraid of hurting Jungkook’s feelings. And when she finally able to put on her big girl pants and tell Jungkook that he shouldn’t feel this way about her… She couldn’t.

Now that she finally has the chance to do, she fucks everything up. She made Jungkook believe she was real, that she was alive, and that she loved him. She was foolish to think that making Jungkook feel happy was a good thing to do. She didn’t know that it would break the band apart.

“I’m sorry.” She looked away from Xiumin and took hold of Jungkook’s hand. “I’m sorry I made you believe.” Jungkook turned to her with confusion. “I’m not real, Jungkook. I-I’m nothing but a soul. I-…” Sighing, she moved her hands from his and to his cheeks. Her touch sent a shock through his whole body. “Do you remember now?”

The shock trigged more parts of his memory that he didn’t even know he lost. From the way Manager Sejin distraughtly gathered the members to inform them about Taehyung’s sudden disappearance to the moment they arrived at the hospital, to the funeral, to the crying, to the tears, to everything. Everything came flooding back.

Jungkook’s lip parted as he placed his hand on top of hers that still rested on his cheek. He pulled it away with a frown and furrowed brows. He was angry. “You made me crazy… You made me act like a fool thinking you were alive and that.. and that we were together! You made look like a lovesick bastard!” Jungkook stood up, the anger flooding through his body like a virus. “Hyung hates me because of you! He wants to leave the band because of how delusional you made me!” Jungkook turned away from the girl. “For fucks sake, I’m literally talking to myself! You’re not even real!”

He laughed crazily. “I need help! Oh goodness,” He cried. Tears spewing from his eyes in distress. “I’m imaging everything.”

“I’m sorry…” Y/N cried. “I just needed you to move on but I got carried away and I felt bad. I just wanted you to feel like happy.”

“You made me believe that we were together. How could that make me happy? Don’t you feel guilty for making me feel like that it was true? That you were alive? Knowing damn well I wasn’t just hurting myself but the hyungs?”

“I-” Y/N stood up from her seat on the bed. “I know I just… I just couldn’t tell you that I never felt that way for you. I love Taehyung very much, and I love you just as much but just not the same way I loved him.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Wouldn’t that have been easier to tell me that instead of making believe such a stupid thing? Sure, I guess I was happy but on the outside? I looked like a fool.” Jungkook thought back to yesterday after the concert. The sad faces that the staff was giving him all made sense now. “The staff thinks I’m crazy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Go away. Get out of my head. You’re not real.”

Y/N bit in a sob as Xiumin appeared beside her. Jungkook was finally able to see the male standing before him. “Great. I’m imagining more people.”

“You’re not, actually.” Xiumin spoke up with his signature smile on his face. “You’re completely sane, sort of? You can see us because we’re showing you ourselves.”

“Huh?”

Xiumin frowned. “I could show myself to your members but then I could get in trouble. I’m already breaking rules by letting you see her, let alone see me.” Xiumin shrugged. “Sorry, I’m making this more complicated. After the car accident, I was sent to bring her home but she had some things to get done before moving on.”

“What? To mess up my life?”

“I never said I was good at my job…” Xiumin gave Jungkook a slight smile in hopes it could lighten the mood but this only confirms that Xiumin was just really bad at doing his job. “Uh, I apologize that I just made matters worse. I do, however, know how to fix things.”

Xiumin turned to Y/N, his hand turned her to face him. He gave her a smile before the two were gone from Jungkook’s sight.

In a matter of minutes, Jungkook’s eyes felt heavy. Everything that happened this past month began to erase themselves from Jungkook’s memory as he blindly made his way to the bed. And then, darkness erupted through him.

“Jungkook, wake up!” A very deep voice flooded through the room loudly. “Jesus, Jungkook, come on. We’re going to be late.”

“Huh?” Jungkook sat up groggily as his hands flew to rub the sleepiness out of his eyes. “What time is it?”

Taehyung sat before him with a sad filled face. “It’s like 5 in the morning. You need to get up.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Jungkook… the funeral is today.”

“What will happen to him?” Y/N asked as the two watched Jungkook find his way to the bed. Sleep erupting through his body instantly. “You’re not killing him, are you?”

Xiumin shook his head. “Of course not, I don’t have that type of power.” Xiumin watched Jungkook finally settle on the bed with his closed. “He’s going to forget this all happened.”

“How?”

“Because it never happened.”

Y/N tilted her head confused. Xiumin placed a hand on her should before walking her out of the room. “This was all just a sick nightmare.”

AN: ah, hopefully, the ending isn’t too confusing. when i began writing this i had a completely different storyline but as i took longer to write this, i kind of forgot how i planned the ending :/

Send me a number(s) from this list, along with a member, and I’ll write you a drabble.➝ ask box ➝ bts masterlist

#jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts angst #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop drabble #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #tvehyungs-gf

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okimargarvez · 4 years

Text

ONE IN PARTICULAR

Original title: Uno in particolare.

Prompt: Luke and Ashley Seaver start to dating.

Warning: crossover with CSI: NY and CSI: Las Vegas.

Genre: romantic, tragicomic.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team, Aaron Hotchner, Ashley Seaver, Sara Sidle, Don Flack, Roxy, Lou.

Pairing: Garvez, Luke x Ashley, Penelope x Don, Prendoza.

Note: oneshot 55 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🔦🐶🎲🎈.

Song mentioned: 13 anni, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

ONE IN PARTICULAR

It was exhausting. This is all that the brain of the special supervisor agent Luke Alvez can think of. Meanwhile he looks at this, tough girl. Yeah, man, like she was twenty years younger than you. You're ridiculous, Alvez. Let your mind rest. Try applying one of those techniques Spencer told you about. -Hey, who's want to take something at O'Keefe?- he's already about to decline the offer of the oldest, when he hears that voice.

-I'm in!- here, perfect. He looks towards the open and contagious smile of his colleague and sighs. Goodbye, bed, we will probably meet again in another life. He feels a hand resting on his shoulder.

-Luke, don't you come?- although he isn't so distracted, he seems so for the other man.

-Yes, yes, I just have to... check that the dog sitter has fed Roxy.- he mumbles, congratulating himself on his quick reflexes. And wishing to pat himself on the head. Strong enough. Judging by the way he's staring at him, Matt thinks the same way. Then, here comes that mischievous smile that so irritates him, ever since Simmons realized that there was a girl who was buzzing in his head.

The sound of high heels in the distance. But Luke doesn't notice. -You know, I didn't think you liked blondes...- here, he starts to provoke him.

-Why shouldn't I like them?- he replies in the same joking tone, hoping to seem less suspicious. The other nods, but it is clear that he is not entirely convinced. Shit. This's what happens when your friends are profilers.

-Especially one in particular, right?- and he winks at him. For a moment Luke fears he was exposed, but is saved by a slight cough. And in that moment, he realizes the presence of a third person. Thanks to her unmistakable scent, which penetrates his nostrils and remains in his head until he can sleep.

-See you later, guys?- Penelope asks, looking only at Simmons, who gives her a friendly caress on her back.

-Go ahead. I'll join you in a moment.- he hopes to get rid of them so easily and for once, he's lucky.

She would only ask for a moment of peace. She would have asked only to listen again to a wisp of his voice, which says: I go away slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly... Take my hand. I'm leaving and I'm not taking you with me. From now on, think only of yourself.

Why is she there too? While he reflects, he feels that slight tingling that he felt even during the first days with Lisa. That pleasant sensation of novelty, future and discovery. No anxiety, no expectations.

-Let's drink to the couple of the day, and above all about the man who performed the miracle of the century: melting the heart of the most fascinating boss that BAU has ever had. No offense, Hotch.- the serious and severe looking man smiles, hugging a dark haired woman to himself and raising his goblet upwards.

-No offense.- he repeats, then, between a burst of laughter. Emily, in a flaming red dress that makes her looks as a stunning, blushes, becoming the same color. If it weren't for the man who shakes her hand, she probably would have already run away. And what would you do in her place? Luke dismisses the thought as if it were a gnat visible only to him.

-To Emily and Andrew.- the eldest announces and they all do the same. Not long after the first couples began to form: the newlyweds, Krystall and Rossi, are the first that start to dance, followed by the others. The singles are the last, including him. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a rather cheerful Tara grabbing a reluctant Reid and forcing him to dance. His hands sweat, but his feet have already begun to walk in the direction of the blonde. How can he forget what he has felt dancing with her at Dave's wedding? By now the ice had broken, it wouldn't have seemed so strange. But a voice stops him.

-Hey.- he turns and here is a very pretty blonde who smiles at him. -Luke, right?- he nods, feeling Garcia's laughter behind him, but forcing himself to pay attention to the woman in front of him. -Even you alone?- he nods. -Would you like to dance?- that tingling again.

-Yes, I'd like.- he has to get used to it, now it's the women who take the initia-tive. Hadn't it been Prentiss pushed Mendoza to get invited out to dinner? Ashley smiles at him again and he can't help but imitate her. At every twirl he realizes he is thinking less and less about the other blonde. She whispers jokes in his ear and it's surprising, because everything she seems, other than a witty person. He knew her past; he knew who her father was and how she liked to spend her holidays: accumulating score in military exercises. Then the music changes and Luke immediately realizes that it’s the time for the slow dance. He hesitates, thinking that maybe there is someone with whom she would like to share more this dance, but she holds him tightly, strong and rests her head on his shoulder. He can feel the woman's heart beating fast and even his own. Was I getting caught up in the atmosphere? Is it just this? He doesn't even notice that the romantic song is already over, until she separates and looks him intently in the eyes. He finds himself looks at her and before he can formulate any hypothesis, he feels Ashley's soft and fresh lips on his and his eyes are closed. When he opens them again, the first thing he sees is again her sweet and cheeky smile; the second is Matt's wink and the third another blonde woman, running towards the inside, probably heading for the bathroom. He can only grasp her expression for a moment, but enough to throw him back into the abyss of his obsession. And to ditch the girl he has just kissed to follow another with a pathetic excuse, that he can't even repeat.

He doesn’t need to hear sobs to deduce what he already knows. It's just that I can't stand to see her sad, nothing else, there's nothing else behind it. He knocks, not too strong and immediately the sobs stop. -Penelope?- he calls her, naturally, automatically choosing to use the name instead of the surname. Steps, then a faucet that is opened. He imagines her rinsing her face trying to erase the traces of crying. As if she were ashamed for being too sensitive. -Penelope, are you in there?- even if he already knows the answer he is forced to carry on the pantomime.

A moment of hesitation. -Yes.- a sigh. She can't adjust her tone of voice; she has never been good at pretending. -But don't enter, please.- once again that pleading tone, which produces the exact opposite effect of what she hoped for. Or maybe, actually, that's what she wants too, but without letting it too obvious. He leans on the door.

-Why? Are you ill?- no response this time. Only silence. -I can't leave you alone, you know.- he's prepared for a long confrontation, so he almost ends up sit on the floor, when she opens it, to let him in or to get out. Despite the funny aspect of the situation, there is not even the shadow of a smile on her face.

-Hey.- he leaves her decide whether to get close or stay where she is. -You cried?- direct approach, certainly not the smartest choice, but all the strategies go to hell, when he is alone with her. He sees her withdraw and cover her face with her hands. Well done, Alvez. -No, you don't need to hide from me, you don't need it.- it is perhaps his delicate tone, calm with some sweet nuances to make her come out of the shell. -We are friends, now, or am I wrong?- he smiles, as he puts his hand on her shoulder.

Penelope stares at it for a few seconds. -No, you're not wrong.- she replies then, raising her eyes to finish in Luke's. That smiles at her more openly. Carefully he starts to move his hand. They go out into the corridor and sit on one of the sofas, quite distant.

-And then you have no reason to be ashamed.- he continues, in a reasonable tone. -What happened?- he asks her, after waiting in vain for a reply. -Why did you run away like this?- she gasps, realizing that she was caught in the act and that how much she can deny, this won't help her to get rid of him.

She then opts to make him feel pity. -I ... I don't want to talk about it, please.- she stares him straight in the eye with her best dramatic expression, not that she has to try very hard. It comes naturally to her. -Don't force me.- the goal is to make him feel like a worm in case he decides to insist. And it seems to work enough.

-I don't want to make you feel worse, so I won't force you.- Luke says, sighing, shaking his head and looking away. -But I can't just doing nothing either.- he adds, blocking the woman's sigh of relief in the bud. For a few seconds they challenge themselves to the game of looks. She wins.

-Go back to the others, Luke.- Penelope folds her arms and walks away, unconsciously or not, even more from him, until she reaches the other side of the sofa. -I can handle it alone.- it's hard not to laugh at that childish pout, which is also so sexy...

He shakes his head. -No. I don't want to leave you here.- with a leap he finds himself at a few centimeters from the female body. -We'll come back from the others together.- he extends his hand, but she pushes him back a little too sharply. If Luke's upset, he doesn't show it.

-Really, there's no need for it.- she talks overlapping words, like when she's agitated. By now he has learned to read most of her nuances. They've known each other for over three years. It’s almost impressive. -Why do you insist so much?- it sounds like a criticism, but he sees us behind more. She is testing me, does she want me to say what I believe? Or am I seeing just what I want to see? For a moment he lives in the illusion of finding the answer in Penelope's dark eyes. But there is a barrier between them, and it's not about the lenses of her glasses.

This time, he doesn't let go the occasion. -Because I care about you, I love you.- she jumps at his words, not even he has gave her shock. She is genuinely surprise. Was it possible that she had not yet understood it? After all the experiences they had lived together as a team.

However, she is able to recover. -Oh. I love you too.- it would be so nice to be able to extrapolate that phrase and imagine a completely different context and a different meaning. She smiles at him and, Dios, all thoughts are confused in his mind, all memories and intentions. Only the present exists. And I was under the illusion that I was out of it. Yes, out of mind. -But I can't go out like this.- he returns to the real world in time to see her pointing with disapproval. -I look like a panda.- it's one of her jokes and at another time he would laugh at it. But he must not lend a push to her insecurity.

-What you say!- he comments instead, taking her hand and making her stand up. -You just need to rinse your face a little.- and again, they are on the bathroom doorway.

-But then all the makeup will go away and I don't have a way to...- she starts to protest, but he silences her by shaking his head.

-Then? Do you want to know a secret?- only her eyes wide open as an answer. -You are much prettier natural.- and he even winks at her, like one of their first times in the elevator. Where he found the courage, he doesn't know either.

Penelope blushes. -If you say so...- she takes a step towards the sink, then stops, continuing to give him her back. -But they will understand that I cried. I don't want to ruin Emily's party.- she doesn't need to open her eyes and look in the mirror to understand that he came in, breaking the taboo of the women's bathroom and placing both hands on her shoulders.

-Come here, otherwise you will start again.- he whispers, bending down to reach her ear. -Come here.- not even finished the sentence that he makes her turn on the opposite side and against his chest. Penelope doesn’t rebel, says nothing, but he notices a significant difference from their first hug, during another engagement party. She is not rigid, she doesn't try to maintain the distances in some way. On the contrary, she totally abandons herself to his hold, even if she doesn’t start crying again. -Sometimes nothing helps more than a hug, don't you think?- he still whispers, feeling her distinctly vibrate, this time he is certain, he hasn’t dreamed it, it was not his imagination that making him believe it.

-Yes.- she says only, diving completely into his arms; anyone would be clearly understand how she would never let him away. But the voice of conscience is stronger than any selfish desire. She backs to being a rigid and cold body. Luke understands and lets her go. -Don't you think Ashley is wondering where you ended up?- then she saw them dance together. And did she also notice...?

-Even the others will have asked themselves the same about you.- he replies, in order not to give way to the other thought to come out.

And finally, here is her smile. -Thank you, Luke.- she touches his arm and with all his cursed profiler experience, the man can't remember if the gesture has a friendly, mischievous, playful, affectionate meaning, or if it is a clear manifestation of that kind of interest.

-For what? I didn't do anything special.- she shakes her head and forces him to promise not to say anything to others. And he certainly can't deny her anything.

As soon as the friend arrives, she drags her to the most isolated corner of the room. Sara says nothing, her chuckle is more than eloquent. Penelope pretends not to have noticed. -I'm also happy to see you.- the brunette woman comments as soon as she finds herself sitting down.

-Did you see them?- the other asks, bouncing on her chair.

-Who?- the blonde scrutinizes her to see if she's making fun of her. -Oh, you mean...- she silences her with a dirty look. -Well, they're not doing anything. They are just sitting close together.- the friend shakes her head, disconsolate.

-It's a disaster.- she comments. -There is no solution. I'm going crazy.- she takes her head in her hands. Sara gives her time to calm down.

-Why don't you tell him the truth?- she asks her then for the umpteenth time.

-What truth?- she replies with another question. The brunette can’t understand if she is really so naive as not to know that whoever answers one question with another one has something to hide.

-That you are in love with him?- she replies.

-I don't...- Penelope understands alone that it's not worth the effort. -Ok, it's true. I can’t explain otherwise what I felt when he hugged me. It was so sweet... you should have seen it.- Sara rolls her eyes. They are no longer of age for certain speeches. -Why does he have to be so great? I hate him!- she punches the table.

-You look like a little girl at her first crush. Damn it, Pen, pull out the ovaries.- she pretends to be scandalized, but she doesn't hold up.

-No! I could never tell him... and then not now that he's happy with Ashley.- here we go again. If this continues, Sara will tell all to Luke. What does it matter that no one has ever introduced them at each other and that he has no idea who she is?

She forces herself to be patient. She thinks back to every night that the blonde woke up to hear her talking about her situation with Grissom. -You were in this phase of denial even when he was with Lisa.- she points out diplomatically.

-Yes, but... I could be happy for them. I'm not saying that I didn't feel bad anyway... I'd be lying in that case. But...- she still looks in the direction of her colleagues' table. Ashley is laughing and her eyes are shining. Even Luke's are no less so. She sighs. -Why can't I do it now?- Sara takes her hand and their fingers intertwine.

-There are only two possibilities: either you no longer have the strength to resist, or you see something different in Ashley.- that's what happens when your friends are all part of the police force. Maybe she should start dating other companies. She has went straight to the point and has hit the target. -Do you think he seems happier with her than with Lisa?- the answer is so easy that she can't even hold it.

-Yes, he is very happy, they are so cute. They're perfect for each other.- sigh. -He is a former soldier, you know, he has that way of doing and thinking a little stiff... and that also makes him more intriguing, but that's another story. And she... she is like that too. She is athletic, sporty. It's perfect for him. Nor is she stupid or light. She has her weight on her shoulders.- another sigh. Sara stands up and joins her from the other side to hug her.

-Do you know why I love you so much? Because despite the deep love you feel, you still put the happiness of others in front of yours.- the friend enjoys the close, but detaches fear that someone could understand that something is at stake.

-What's wrong with that?- the brunette rolls her eyes.

-Leave it. Rather, let's change the subject.- the blonde shakes her head.

-Oh, no. I already know what you're going to say. You want that I go out with one of your crazy friends.- she says.

-Indeed. But before you say no, look at this.- Sara shows her a pic on her phone.

-Mmm. Maybe I could make an effort. But you have to tell him: without obligation. Ok?- she asks.

-Sure.-

***

-Come on, honestly. Tell me. Why are you single?- they are walking along a park near Garcia's apartment. The evening was very pleasant, neither of them felt particularly embarrassed, but that question has been on her mind since she saw his photograph. The subtext is obvious: you're too attractive to be single yet, so where's the catch?

-I could ask you the same question.- Don replies, chuckling and finally laughing at taste when Penelope rolls her eyes. She feels a pleasant tingling in the lower abdomen. -I had an important story, but...- he hesitates and she senses that something really bad must have happened, not a simple rupture.

She barely touches his arm. -You are not forced to tell me about it.- they look each other for a second in the eyes. He nods, sighs, then beckons her to sit on a bench.

-She was killed. I risked to make the same end too. It was hard to accept.- Penelope looks at him sympathetically. -I preferred to throw myself at work and think about it as little as possible.- she looks at her shoes, thinking about how to get out of this sad atmosphere, but it is he who saves her. -And now it's your turn. How does the BAU oracle still be on the market?- Penelope opens her eyes and mouth, really surprised to hear him use that nickname that she herself hadn't used for a long time.

-Well... too little free time certainly doesn't help. I had a boyfriend... three years ago.- she chuckles alone. -But he couldn't understand mine, our work, in short. He was unable to help me psychologically, I mean...- she sighs, for the effort to explain herself without being misunderstood and pass for a madwoman. -I shot a man in the hospital who was about to hurt my injured colleague. He is not dead. But I still felt guilty. They sentenced him to death and I tried to prevent it. He wanted me to witness his execution.- she feels the tears sting her eyes.

-Hey, don't worry, you don't have to hold back with me.- Penelope nods and without understanding the sequence of facts she finds herself with her head resting on his shoulder. And his arm around her hips.

-Would you like to come and meet the team one of these evenings?-

****

Tonight, Ashley couldn’t accompany him and this is enough to throw again him in the memories of his story with Lisa. In fact, if it was over it was because of the incompatibility of their work; it's true, Morgan and Savannah had managed to make it work, or almost, since Derek was no longer a federal. But Ashley is not the only blonde that is missing. Even Penelope. Just when he is about to ask others discreetly if they know why, here she comes in, arm in arm with a man who he must have already seen somewhere else.

-Hey guys! Sorry for the delay.- she smiles, one of her dazzling smiles and Luke feels an invisible punch hit him in the chest and take his breath away. -I want to present you the New York investigator Donald Flack.- the girls are so interested, but the man continues to look only at Penelope and this doesn’t pass unnoticed by anyone. As well as the way Don looks at her: obvious, declared interest.

-What a presentation!- he exclaims, in a pleased tone. -You can simply call me Don.- meanwhile the wheels of the Latin brain have continued to turn until they reach the solution. A decade earlier, during a case in his neighborhood. The Bronx strangler. He had liked him at that time. But there was nothing in the middle... What the hell am I thinking? Does she have not the right to go out with whomever she wants, like me? I'm not jealous. I can't be jealous. Staying on the sidelines is the only way to avoid making fool of himself.

*****

She hears the door open, but doesn’t have the strength for one of her witty sentences. -Garcia, I need...- she immediately recognizes him, but instead of hiding, she continues to work on the computer. Limiting herself to hoping for a sudden blindness. -What's the matter?- but she's not lucky. She feels his gaze on her back, the shadow widening as he approaches.

-Nothing.- she replies anyway, pretending to ignore him.

-Penelope...- the tone of the man sounds like a warning. -You will force me to repeat the speech of the other night?- he places a hand on the backside of her chair to make her turn slowly in his own direction. Penelope instantly crosses her legs, proving to be involuntarily provocative.

-No.- she exclaims then, even looking terrified. A shadow passes before her eyes. -Maybe...- but only for a moment. -Nothing.- she hasn’t tried with much effort and the results are visible. Luke gently takes her by both hands and forces her to rise.

-Maybe you would need this?- he asks her before hugging her. But she struggles, not too forcefully.

-No, no, it's better than no.- to the point that he leaves her free. -Really.- he watches her caressing her arms alone. An attitude that he has seen too many times in a woman. And he knows perfectly the meaning of this gesture. Even if it doesn't seem possible.

-Did something happen with Don?- he is forced to ask. As bad it could be, he must know the truth. -Did he hurt you?- is his low and guttural tone of voice that most frightens Penelope. She can't know, but it's the same as when he asked what happened to Battle and the interrogations with Shaw after seeing her in tears. -Because if was that, I...- Penelope stops him, putting her hand on his arm for a second.

-No, he's a sweetie, he's fantastic, really.- Luke doesn't seem to be a hundred percent convinced. -It has nothing to do with him. My problem is… me.- she finally admitted and now she feels free, light. She breathes a sigh and the same air seems to have a different taste.

-You could never be a problem, Penelope.- the man replies in a gentle tone. But in reality, the thoughts that buzz around his head are quite different. It's a sweetie, it's fantastic. Damn it. So why are you so sad? Why isn't he here to console you? Think about it, he works a lot of miles from here. Yes, but I would have moved for her. What I said? He must definitely stop conducting conversations with himself. The thing is starting to get out of hand.

-Thanks, Luke, you are very sweet.- Penelope rewards him, giving him a small smile. -But there's nothing you can do to help me. I'm sorry.- he shakes his head, annoyed. And for once he says exactly what he thinks.

-I don't believe it, I can't accept it.- she replies nothing, just looks at him. -You're my friend, I love you, it's not possible.- he says again. I love you that it would be so easy to exchange for something else. But no, now he has Ashley. It means nothing.

-Maybe I can accept that hug.- she throws it there, then, hoping to get away with it this way. -But then you tell me what you needed and go back to work like a good guy.- she intimates with a voice that makes her look like the Garcia he fell in love with. Shit. Well, you admitted it now. What are you doing standing there? Hug. At least this is not an ambiguous gesture. Here, so, spread your arms.

-I am forced to accept the compromise.- he sighs. Good, stay above her hips, you don't have to cross certain borders. Try to forget that the prosperous breasts you've been spying on a thousand times are now pressed against your chest. A little sob. But she doesn't seem to have noticed anything. Hey, little Luke, you don't help me like that. What is my fault if you have a sick mind? Try to think of something that is totally anti-sex. But he can't do it, because the scent of Penelope's hair makes his head spin completely. For this he comes off and keeps himself a little too away to forward his request.

******

He is distracted just a second and then an orange spot darted past him and stopped only in front of a gate. -Roxy!- she's waiting for him sitting on the bench with a very intriguing crooked smile. She looks at her watch and shakes her head, her blond hair gathered in a neat braid.

-We gave you two minutes, Alvez.- she caresses the dog, she makes some tickle behind her ears. He lets himself go beside her. -Hey Luke.- he looks at her inquisitive look. She puts her hand on his knee, giving him a slight shiver down his spine. -Are you okay?- he meditates for a moment whether a harmless lie or the raw truth is more convenient. -You're pensive.- he nods and takes her hand, intertwining their fingers. He needs contact and human warmth. He needs to stop thinking.

-Yes, you are right. It's that... I don't know.- he sighs and shakes his head.

-You're confused.- Ashley begins to explain in his place. -You're in love, but not with me.- Luke doesn't deny it and that's enough. -Are you afraid of hurting me and hurting yourself, am I right?- even if he doesn't want to, he finds himself smiling like he was caught. -I can't speak for other people, but as far as I'm concerned... we can continue to see each other and take a little jog every now and then, without necessarily being together. Don't get me wrong, it was nice, well... you kiss well and you're pretty cute. But I noticed it almost immediately that you were almost always with your head elsewhere.- he is about to apologize but she doesn't leave him. -Luke, I really mean, I'm not madly in love with you, not yet, at least.- the subtext is clear. -So, I just ask you to be honest. Do you already have another person in your heart or I’m doing too many paranoia?- he sighs, feeling like a profiteer, because he has done nothing to deal with this situation.

-Yes, you're right.- he admits, forcing himself to look into her eyes as he says it. -It was nice for me too. And I'd like to meet you again and challenge you to run.- she smiles at him giving him an affectionate little push.

-We are better suited to be friends than something more. Think about it: we are too similar. There is complicity, but it lacks... you know, the... the passion.- he nods. -And with the other? I guess it's a woman. With her you have that shock, you feel that shiver in the air?- he hesitates a moment, but not out of uncertainty. -I told you, you don't have to worry about me. Indeed, don't you want to take advantage of another girl's opinion?-

*******

Being alone again, or almost, is not that bad. Roxy gives him a tug. Sorry, girl, I meant a human company. He has now resigned himself to continuing to speak alone. At least he does it only in his head, so nobody can see it. The dog continues to pull, which is quite unusual for her. It is trained to do so only when there is a goal to be achieved. And indeed, even if he has not yet realized, it is so.

-Roxy, slow down, you'll make me fall! Have pity for a lonely man.- but she ignores him and his delirium is interrupted when he sees the reason for so much anxiety: another Belgian shepherd, thin, slender, recently no longer a puppy, whom he knows very well. As well as the woman who takes him on a leash. Blonde and decidedly exhausted by attempts to keep up with Lou. -Penelope!- Roxy meanwhile, as a good older sister, is sniffing the younger one, checking his health. Penelope wears casual clothes and sneakers that make her almost another person.

-Hey!- she greets him, then looks around, so that he suspects she is not alone. For a good minute he lives in terror of seeing the handsome New York detective appear.

-I'm glad to have met you, because I was just thinking of calling you.- it's not about courage, but about inevitability. Ashley threatened him after making him spill the beans. Better that she comes to know it from him and not from others. In any case it will be embarrassing, but in this way, a little less.

-Oh yes? Do you need help with some electronic devices?- she, naive, hasn’t guessed anything. She tries to settle a rebellious strand, but between Lou's shots and the bag that unbalances her, it doesn’t seem a viable undertaking.

-No, nothing like that.- Luke walks over and does it in her place. For a moment they look at each other without practically breathing. Then he breaks the bubble. -So... how's it going with Don?- Penelope sighs and searches for the dog's head to give herself support.

-It’s not going.- she replies, not knowing that she has illuminated all the spies in her colleague's brain. -I stopped seeing him because... I wouldn't want to talk about it, but I'm afraid you'll insist.- he just stares at her. -It's the usual boring and banal thing you see happening in the movies.- she bends down to caress both dogs. No necklines to take advantage of, this time. So, it's easier to focus only on her words. -He was perfect, really, sweet, caring, interesting and interested in me...- again a praise that he doesn’t particularly like to listen -also from the physical point of view...- here, considering that there is worse? -The problem is that unfortunately when I met him... I was already in love with someone else.- What was that Ashley told you about? You felt that vibration now. No, directly an earth-quake. But look, she could even talk about someone else, it doesn't have to be you. Maybe that bar-tender who is always nice... But if he's gay! He forces both voices to keep quiet because she is looking at him strangely. -I tried to go out with him to see if I would have been able to not think at least for a while...- she was going to say the name, but unfortunately for him she stopped on the edge of the ravine -but it didn't work and since he's a good person , I preferred to clarify the situation.- she lifts up and starts walking again. He follows her.

-Oh... I...- Penelope shakes her head.

-No need for you to say it, I know.- unexpectedly she takes his hand and squeezes it. -Thank you for your time.- he opens his eyes wide, but the contact doesn’t last long. - Although I doubt they are things you can understand... because you found the right one.- he freezes, forcing her to do the same and so do the dogs.

-Who, Ashley? I'm sorry to give you a disappointment...- he gets messed up, even blushing. She chuckles. -We broken up, well, it's not like we've ever really been a couple, anyway... I was... too- wrong verb tense -I'm in love with another woman.- it's her turn to be surprised.

-Let me guess: it's blonde.- but she passes the ball again to him. Luke fails to mask the confusion. He thinks she finally understood.

-How did you..?- she doesn't seem very happy though. She lowers again, letting his dog kiss her.

-I heard you say a month ago to Matt that you liked a blonde colleague.- she says, in a low tone, without looking at him even by mistake. -I thought you were referring to Ashley, then you two started dating...- Luke understands how she should close the subject before he gets even more messed up.

-No, I wasn't referring to her.- he takes her from under her shoulders and pulls her up, a gesture that both consider too intimate, strange. The two dogs also stop chasing each other and twist the leads around them.

-But then... who can it be?- he admires her as she tries hard to reach the solution of the enigma. Her furrowed brow, her concentrated expression, her lips slightly bent. God, her mouth. Don't stare at it or it will be the end. -JJ no, because she is married.- luckily she brings out a theory so absurd as to force him to answer her. -It's not JJ, is it?- how can she think he might be in love with a married woman and that has two children?

-Of course not!- he sounds a little too indignant.

-Then, I don't understand.- and her naivety and confusion instead of making him angry, makes her even more attractive in his eyes. Literally irresistible.

-Pen, you're practically omniscient, you can find information in a few seconds, but sometimes you don't get to the solution that you have exactly in front of your nose.- he gradually lowers the tone. He takes Lou's leash from her hand. He doesn't need another one to do what he has in mind.

-You mean...?- she widens her eyes, her pupils dilated. He also frees her right hand from the bag, which he places at their feet. And he puts his hand behind her neck. This was not the original plan, but he will not stop.

-I’m sure that usually you follow the rule of third date, but for me you can do an exception…- Penelope has only time to remember that she and Don have argued a similar argument, then Luke does exactly what he seemed he has decided to do. He kisses her, with passion, love, not able to stop or hold himself. When their lips are in touch, it seems that the whole Sun system has found its right alignment. She doesn’t stay inactive, she kisses him back, despite the sensation of unreality. And then, they can’t leave each other. She leans her head in the crease of his shoulder. Other pieces find their places. No only one voices in Luke head seem to have something to say.

-So it is true that you like blondes?- she asks with her natural tone, full of life, joyful, enthusiastic for any minutia. -You didn't look like the type.- Luke chuckles. -Maybe it was the only thing that made Ashley seem not like the perfect girl for you.- she adds. Luke opens his mouth and changes his mind at the last second.

-Yes, I like blondes, or rather...- dramatic pause. With his free hand from the leash, he lifts her chin up to bring their lips close a few millimeters -one in particular.- Penelope moves her mouth in funny expressions.

-Mmm.- but with eyes she laughs.

-And you?- he provokes her without putting an end to the sweet torture. -Based on your track record, I would say that you prefer dark hair...- she bites her tongue. But then she answers in the same tone.

-Yes, but one in particular.- she whispers, before ending the distance.

---------------------------------------------------

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reddogf13 · 4 years

Text

Escape: To Salvation Ch: 12

Blake X Val

Summery: Blake wakes up in the hell town known as Templegate. confused and alone he must fight through both his past and present for his future. however, hallucinations of festering demons haunt him along with something else more of mortal blood. now he must fight to keep his nightmares and reality separate or succumb to the deadly wilds. however is he truly as alone as he feels in this world?

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language, sensitive topics, and gore

previous chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:11

next chap: Escape: To Salvation CH:13

_____________________________________

~Ch:12 Deep freeze~

they left the small camp with their warm clothing slung around a shoulder, the gun slung over the other for blake. He let out a few deep calming breaths after a bit of walking into the higher altitudes. His lungs were always used to just above sea level not the highlands. “geeze, get a hold of yourself.” he thought to himself as he painfully wheezed. Confused on if it was the lack of air in the mountain lands or his asthma acting up from difficulty walking steep slopes. “just look forward.” he wheezed as he walked along. Night arriving by the time they found, what he assumed to be, the seasonal river. A small channel of smoothed rocks clustered together just like the bottom of a river. Smoothed out sand with defining edges of where the water flowed down. “just follow this through the mountain then … down to a canyon … through a forest and a waterfall. Then we'll be at the town.” Blake wheezed. “just about.” Val said to him, standing by for Blake to catch his breath. Blake continued along with a shiver. The cold being much worse the farther he followed the frozen channel. “shouldn't we wait for you to catch your breath?” Val asked. “i am not sure if that's even possible. … this mountain is lacking the air. … cant talk, mite pass out.” he wheezed, getting lightheaded already after a couple sentences. “can you stand to go further? There's still higher climbing ahead.” Val spoke with both concern and mild warning over Blakes worsening condition. He nodded his head as he walked on, taking deep breaths with every step. Stopping at the sound of a crunch underneath his boot. “snow?” he thought. feeling the sudden cold underneath it. “snow in Arizona. Hell has finally frozen over.” Blake joked to himself as he trudged up through the snow. “we should layer up now that we've reached the snow. Watch where you step. The snow can hide some deep holes sometimes.” Val spoke as she unrolled the thick clothing. “no worries … I'll be slow.” he wheezed while layering up. Only getting a few feet in the deep snow before stopping from lightheadedness. The layers feeling uncomfortably heavy now that they were no longer in a tight roll on his back. “fuck.” he thought with a heavy swallow. “need to rest?” Val asked. “no. … no.” he wheezed, attempting to move with only a shaking struggle through his legs. The sound of a hunting helicopter drawing near making them still at the snows edge. Crouching low against the snow to wait for the menace to pass. Watching the large military copter hover along the mountain side in a slow search. A large beam of spot light scouring over the land. “they shouldn't notice us while we remain still. We'd just look like rocks from above.” Val spoke sitting by Blake as they watched the hovering copter. The once bright spot light shutting off suddenly as it remained still. “are you sure?” Blake wheezed at the strange action. The hovering threat suddenly snapping to fly in their direction as if they were heard. “it shouldn't.” Val repeated. Blakes heart jumping into his throat when the helicopter slowed near them. The frightening sound of a machine gun revving up above them. Blake in an instant grabbed Val to bolt from their place in the snow. Bullets whizzing by as it mulched through the snow barely a foot away. “run!” Blake shouted, as he pushed his body forward despite the wheezing. The copter following them aggressively through the freezing darkness. “it shouldn't have seen us!” Val spoke as she was ran just ahead of Blake. He didn't have time to answer between his wheezing. “i have to ditch these clothes.” he thought, quickly shedding the layers to lose all the weight dragging him down. “what are you doing?!” Val shouted as she watched him discard the protective clothing. More bullets whizzing by causing them to separate. Losing sight of each other as they passed by multiple trees in the thickening forest. Blake taking a hard dive into the thick snow after smashing his leg into a covered rock. He laid there wheezing in pain unable to raise as the helicopter dangerously approached. He laid there frozen underneath the snow for his painful death to come. Watching the helicopter pause over head for a moment, taking a slow turn as if scanning the area before bolting toward the direction Val went. “did it see me?” Blake thought confused. It spotted them so clearly from afar, what changed? He wheezed a little longer to regain his breath. Jumping to his feet at the far echoing sound of gunshots. “she'll be alright. she'll be alright.” he swallowed thickly with tears building up in his eyes as he ran through numbing wind. Heart jumping into his throat when he heard more distant gunshots. He watched a small amount of red light at the bottom of the copter. The only thing he was able to see in the current darkness. By how fast the small light moved he could tell It was viciously chasing something. “they couldn't have found her.” he thought. Nearly jumping out of his skin as a bullet blasted a chunk of earth away from his legs. He had no time to look where the bullets origin was. Only running to the nearest group of trees. Looking around the large trunks to see a group of foot soldiers walking toward him with bright red goggles. Covered in thick black gear made for defended insulation in the cold. He pulled out the long rifle from around his shoulder. Discovering through his aim that he could actually see through the dark. Blasting the leg of two men before the rest grew smart enough to hide by cover. Blake jumping when the helicopter shot off more bullets. Going farther and farther away into the distance. With quick thinking he looked through the scope to aim at the small amount of see able windshield. Blasting off a few rounds in short burst. The sudden assault catching the flier off guard enough to have it almost crash into a nearby tree. Just barely making it away from the tree trunk in time, but not without damage. The rotor blades being choked by sudden branch hitting having a lasting impact. Blake watching from afar as the helicopter flew off with smoking circling about the red light. blades cutting in and out of rotating by the distant sounds of it. “please be okay!” he thought over Vals situation, turning back to his own with the armed strangers nearby. Hearing them yell about something from their hiding spot. Going quiet after a moment of talking on their side. Blake growing nervous over the sudden silence distracting him from the outreaching hand from the darkness. Grabbing a hold of him by the front of his shirt. His whole body slammed into the lightly snow covered rocky surface dirt. Flinching at being yanked back up to his feet. Opening his eyes to see a large man looming over him with a black metal mask covering the lower half of his face. Seeing more glinting metal over other areas. Blake flinched at the man's fist going up to punch. Reflexively squeezing the gun in his hands to prepare for the hit. Instead hearing a loud bang with a screech of pain following after. Having accidentally shot off the rifle into the man's leg. “you fucking bastard!” wicker roared down onto him. Beating Blake down with even more anger as he tried to struggle free from his grasp. Yanking the gun away from Blake before yanking him up from the blood covered snow. Keeping it difficult for him to grab any footing as wicker yanked him out into the open. Blake struggled and twisted around in his clothing, finally getting free with a kick to the mans bottom jaw. Mainly on pure accidental luck as Blake was aiming for his chest. Being harshly dropped to the dirt giving Blake another chance to kick the man in the gut. Grabbing the now dropped gun before bolting away in the direction of Val. Blake feeling sick to his stomach as blood filled his mouth. Spitting or drooling out a trail of blood. Feeling his lip cut in two places. his nose having the great possibility of being broken along with a few side ribs. There was a lot of yelling from the masked man behind his trail. Blake being far too scared of another beating to look back. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” he repeated in thought through the darkness. Peering through his night scope the entire way as he ran to be able of seeing anything in front of him. A snow storm stirring up thick blasting winds along a wall of white flurry. Choking up at the sight of something red covering parts of a damaged tree. The marks being obvious bullet holes. Coming close Blake could see the red shine under his scope. Confirming his suspicion of its origins. He looked down the tree trunk with the scope following the blood down to a large amount soaked in the snow. His own blood dripping from his nose to mix into the snow as well. The clean snow making the liquid stand out all the more. “fuck.” he thought again, following footprints leading along a trail of blood. Rushing his search despite his asthma kicking him in the lungs as the storm threatened to take more and more of the trail away. The farther he followed the tail the more bullet damage and blood he found. Leading off a edge into a dark abyss. “val!” Blake shouted down to the darkness. Hearing his own voice echo back to him on the howling wind. He looked down through the scope, seeing the bottom wasn't too far. Getting down low before slipping off the edge to land on the hard ground below. Looking again through the scope for some sort of tracks. Discovering another large pool of blood leading up to a partially covered body laying in the snow. Blake stumbled close to carefully examine the body. Heart sinking as he felt the fur clothing soaked in slick blood. He looked through the scope to see her unconscious body through the darkness. Seeing the large wounds covering her side. “The helicopters gun must have gotten her entire side.” he thought with a shiver at the cold. Feeling her breathing shallowly he thought to quickly stitch the wounds shut before moving her. The time to do so being stressed as he heard other voices echoing through the trees. He swallowed thickly while fumbling through his bag. Grabbing stitching wire to try his best at the fastest stitch job in the world. He had no time to properly treat it through cleaning or even in making sure no bullets were left lodged under the skin. He reached the middle wounds when he heard the voices drawing dangerously near. “bloods freezing. With this much missing i am sure the bodies freezing just the same. At least I'll have one body to throw in the lab.” wicker growled, following the trail using a pair of night goggles. Blake tied off the final stitch with shaky hands. Picking up the cold Val in his arms to follow the ditch. Realizing he wouldn't get far with Val continuing to leave a trail of blood behind. Taking out bandages to sloppily, but quickly wrap her entire chest. No time to see if it was too tight before spreading clean snow to cover their tracks. running with her again down the rocky ditch. Wicker let out a growl as he reached the bloody trails end. Finding a lack of tracks to follow from there. “half follow me this way, the rest of you go the other way.” he huffed. “what about your leg?” one officer spoke. “its fine, the metal will support me.” he grumbled, hopping down into the rocky ditch. Becoming frustrated as all his metal joints locked up. The cold having the shifting lubricant freeze up. Wicker let out a growl as he forced the joints free from the quickly forming ice. Chunks of the important liquid cracking off to the ground. Blake ran as far as he could till his lungs burned. Now he was running into another problem, the cold was taking over. He had no protection besides Val with her coat, but even she was getting dangerously cold now. He followed the steep rocky mountain side as far as he could. the snow storm blowing in gifting time with there tracks well covered. The storm taking time as well in how much longer both could survive the cold. He was panicking inside as his world of visibility became a wall of white on one side and dark rock face on the other. The only positive being the sun slowly rising to light up all the white. He stopped momentarily against a large tree. Looking desperately for some kind of shelter. Spotting a dip in the mountain side he rose back to his feet. Trudging his way through the heavy snow to reach the small half room like area. The winds blowing away from the cave kept the snow away, but the large entrance didn't allow much trapping of heat. “fire.” was the first thing that popped into his mind. Grabbing whatever roots were growing between the rock walls. Shakily striking two rocks in his numb hands till a fire sparked alive. Blocking it as well as he could from the small amount of cold wind passing by. “this fires not going to be any good if the heat cant stay around here.” he thought. Looking to Vals bloody fur jacket. “i really need to block this, but the coats keeping her warm. But its covered in blood and is probably attracting all sorts of bacteria that could infect her wounds.” he thought back and forth on taking it to block the entrance. “it would be temporary, just till I get things stable and the storm goes. Then I can make a block with branches when I can travel out.” he thought, carefully moving Val to be close to the fire so as not to lose too much heat. Pinning the jacket across the entrance by cramming pieces into nooks and crannies in the wall. It almost covered the entire entrance besides a few holes around the edges. “feels warmer already.” Blake tried thinking optimistically. Now he had to check over Val again to properly treat her. At least he had light this time around instead of a slim gun scope. He undid all the awkward stitches he set before. Carefully looking for any bullet fragments left behind. Which there were along with multiple wood shrapnel sticking to the blood on her skin. Cleaning the wounds couldn't take long with the bleeding. All the blood covering her he couldn't do anything about. Grinding up a mix of herbs she had taught him about earlier. Delicately smearing the thick cold paste across the long row of wounds. Carefully stitching the multiple holes till he could re-bandage her chest again. He let out a deep calming breath as he finished. Thinking on what else he could possibly do. “wash my hands.” he thought, looking at his blood smeared arms. “look like I murdered someone.” he mumbled as he got up. Going over to scrub his arms with handfuls of snow. Making a snowball to hold against his aching face. Feeling his nose shift at the pressing of snow having him hiss out in pain. Feeling more blood drip from his nose. Trying his best to clean himself up so he could sit by the warm fire again. He felt so exhausted yet he just couldn't sleep. Not till he was sure on Vals condition. She was still breathing without any alarming noises, but she was almost as pale as the snow. Blake tended vigilantly to the fire. Grabbing every single root he could reach to throw into it. Looking out through the holes at the entrance for the storm to pass. Finding it harder and harder to stay awake as the day passed. Some points he wasn't sure if he stayed awake or knocked out momentarily for an hour. He got up to pace a few times. Grabbing snow to eat when he got thirsty. Resting his pained face in a pile of snow he carefully gathered into a pillow shape. Attempting to give Val some water as well through small bits of snow. Hoping she would recuperate blood faster if he did. “what if she doesn't wake up after a couple of days?” he questioned in thought. The idea going down into depressing territory with possibly digging a future grave. He had absolutely no medical equipment to bring her back if her body fell too far. Dropping snow into her mouth was all he could do for now besides tending the fire. He waited till he saw the storm recede. Going out to quickly gather up fresh low branches from the nearby trees. Speeding up more at the howls of wolves in the far distance. The larger branches helping to build up a real fire. “val?” Blake spoke to her unconscious body. “val you have to wake up.” he shook her gently. “please wake up. Please.” he hoped and prayed in his mind. Sighing when no change seemed to be made. He swallowed thickly, rubbing his face to try staying awake. Feeling more awake than ever when pain rushed up through his face when it was rubbed. He hissed in pain while reaching for a fresh handful of snow to dull the pain away. Laying down with the more painful side on a pile of snow. Deciding it was best to rest with not much more he could offer to Val in the moment. It all depended on if she would wake or not. His exhausted body falling asleep to the snow numbing his swollen face with the hot fire warming his back.

“i warned you about the metal. Its does not make you invincible.” the doctor nagged wicker as he slowly reheated the lubricant between the metal joints. The liquid having frozen solid during his hunt in the storm. Ice having badly scraped and popped the metal joints out of place. “a minor set back. Same with that bullet in my leg. More pissed about how that reporter got the gun without the bone shattering knock back.” wicker glared at his leg wound the doctor was tending to. Watching as the doctor yanked out the bullet, with a minor hiss of pain coming from wicker. Wrapping it up without much care for cleaning or stitches as wickers impatience over being fixed was running low. “guns broken after what you did. Throwing it into the river probably changed how it worked as well.” the doctor advised. “i didn't throw it into damn the river.” wicker spoke through gritted teeth. His jaw crackling before popping into place. “put more metal on my damn jaw while your at it.” he demanded as he stood tall. “i told you there's nothing I can do about that. If you weren't so careless and paid just a little attention to your actions you wouldn't get yourself so injured all the time. Keep going like this and you'll end up like Barker.” the doctor glared. “I'll never be Barker!” wicker roared. Grabbing a nearby scalpel to furiously threaten the doctor. “shut up and fix me like you were hired to do! Or else Murkoff will-!” wicker spoke with a commanding roar. Having to grit his teeth together by the end to prevent his jaw from slacking on one side. “murkoff will do what? Fire me, send me off for experiments like every other uncooperative worker? Murkoff is reaching its end. Ever since the fall of mount massive and Waylon released-” the doctor stood his ground with a calm glare. “don't mention that damned name!” wicker loomed over the doctor threateningly. A loud snap ringing from his right jaw hinge. “why not? The damage is done. Murkoffs getting its final nail in the coffin! Country's are hunting down the facilitys all over this earth. There are only this facility and a few others remaining. This company wasn't the invincible god so many higher officers thought. 2 CEOS dead and one remaining, who i am sure will eventually reach a dead end. Workers all over are revolting!” the doctor waved off wickers command. “you have a death wish?!” wicker snapped. “I've had one for a while. Murkoffs taken everything else from me. I cant leave and if i am caught ill end up in jail with everybody else all the same. I find death to be a welcoming peace from every other prison I have now. A riot is growing among the slaves Murkoff can no longer control from their marble throne.” the doctor huffed. Just as the doctor finished wicker slashed the tightly held scalpel. landing a fatal blow at the doctors neck. In an instant blood splattered across wickers face as the doctor fell bleeding out the neck from a cut artery. Wicker glared down at the body with no remorse. Tossing the scalpel to the side to grab some gauze, wiping the blood away from his face. Shifting his bottom jaw back and forth with another scalpel to adjust its settling place with a tight twist on the metal hinge replacement.

Blake woke up to his face resting in a cold puddle, the snow having long been melted. He sat up with a painful groan raising a hand to hold his aching head. He looked over to the still unconscious Val. Hoping she will wake up today or else there would be a big problem. Yawning with a stretch to his feet he looked toward the entrance. “guess it's time to fix up the entrance.” Blake breathed out. It was still difficult for him to breath the thin air, fortunately he was no longer wheezing with every breath. Walking out into the cold snow with a shiver up to the large pine trees surrounding the area. Breaking off any low branches covered in thick pine needles. Struggling to drag them back to the entrance to carefully position them in a heavy tight layer. He worked for hours till he was sure that half the entrance was well covered in branch layers covered in patted on muddy snow. Back inside he made sure to throw more wood onto the fire. Checking on Val for any change. Seeing none he looked back at the fur hanging by the entrance. The new layered branches seemed to be doing a fine enough job keeping the heat in. deciding he could finally take down the fur to return back to Val. Although it was in desperate need of a clean being half covered in a dried blood stain. He spent a few minutes cleaning it off the best he could in the snow. Draping it back over Val so he could leave to finish closing off the other half of the entrance. “so much for going over the mountain.” Blake thought while dragging more branches. “dropped my coat, Vals got a column of holes in her side, helicopters flying over, asthma going to kill me if this air gets any thinner.” he grumbled in his head. Padding muddy snow on the new branches. “who knows where we are now. That snow storm with all that running took me who knows where. I have no idea where the seasonal river is. Val cant help any further either in where we could be.” he thought, letting out a tired sigh as he leaned against the finished entrance. Leaving only a narrow entrance at the very end to go in and out of. Coming inside Blake was surprised to find Val awake. Sitting up to examine the large hole in her clothes partially hiding her heavily stitched up bandaged side. “your finally awake, how long have you been up?” Blake asked, feeling a little bad he wasn't paying attention enough to notice. “not long.” she spoke while carefully examining her side stitches. Looking then to her ruined clothes with annoyance at their state. “i tried my best to make everything okay.” he spoke, adding wood onto the fire. “the stitching fine, I'll have to fix my clothes though. Hate doing that.” she spoke as she began to undress. Blake looking away to anything else as he fidgeted to keep himself occupied from looking back. Sitting down a little away from her. Val didn't mind if Blake looked or not only caring to find the materials needed in her bag. Grabbing the strips of left over leather to use as a thick form of string and a wolf's canine for a needle to pierce holes. Carefully sowing up the large hole in her dress. “what happened to your face?” she asked. Seeing a large bruise spanning across on the side of Blake's face. “oh, i was grabbed and punched a few times. I think the swellings gone down a bit, but i am still having a lot of pain in the middle of my face. It'll probably go away entirely in a few days.” he spoke while slightly feeling his bruised face. Wincing as he touched near his nose. “let me see.” she said, pausing her sowing. Blake getting nervous about going near Val when she had little clothing on. “why? just, finish fixing your clothes first.” he stated, continuing to avoid looking at her. “i want to make sure your healing. Just come here for a moment.” she spoke gently toward Blakes back that was facing her. “it's just swelling. I've been putting snow on it. Its going down, it's fine.” he stated. “if you don't come over here and let me look then I'll have to get up and go over there and look.” Val lightly warned as she sowed a little more. Pausing again when Blake sighed out of both nervousness and frustration. He got up and nervously came close to sit near by. Avoiding eye contact or in looking anywhere near her direction as if his life depended on it. Jumping with a flinch away when he felt both her hands touch his face. “hold still so I can look.” she scolded, grabbing him firmly by his bottom jaw to bring his face close again. Blake allowing her to do so as he grumbled in his mind about tolerating this contact. Still looking anywhere else away from her. Growing increasingly nervous the longer he felt Vals hands on both sides of his face. “i told you it's just swelling it'll-” he started to try and speed up this examination before Val forcefully pressed around his nose that a loud snap was echoed through the room. Val letting go as Blake let out a muffled screech of pain as he covered his pained face. “what the ffff-” he groaned painfully with his eyes shut tight as water built up in both. “your nose was crooked. Its fixed now.” Val calmly spoke as she returned to sowing her dress again. “maybe that's just how my nose was!” he shouted out of pained anger. “i am very sure it wasn't crooked before.” she calmly spoke. “ffff!” he hissed out wanting to shout so many other things but couldn't find his voice for it. The sharp pain finally dulling to an aching pulse having him finally remove his hands from around his face. Opening his watery eyes to take a slow breath through his nose. Discovering it felt completely clear of any blockage. This whole time he just thought the cold was making his nose feel stuffed up not that his nose was broken. “i have to go put my face in snow again.” Blake grumbled. Getting up to go outside without another word. Hearing Val give him a small hum of approval as he left. Outside Blake didn't bother grabbing a handful to hold, simply laying down flat to the ground with his face buried into the snow. Giving out groans of pain as his face throbbed with a growing burning sensation building. He laid out there till he felt his face go numb. Going back inside to sit by the fire. Seeing Val laying nearby using the jacket as a blanket. “hows your nose?” she asked him. “in pain … clear.” he mumbled. Having mixed emotions on his nose being fixed. “the healing will go faster.” she smiled at him. “how many noses have you fixed?!” he grumbled at her. “many, including my own on a few occasions. Fighting was a common thing, after all. I've had to reset many other things over the years. There wasn't exactly any doctors so you had someone else fix you, or you had to fix yourself and hope it healed well.” Val spoke. “ever fixed large wounds on yourself?” he asked. “Have been stabbed quite a few times.” she spoke as if it were nothing. “back in the woods, were you shot by the helicopter or some guy?” Blake asked. Watching Val as she locked onto the blood stain on her clothes with a growing expression of unsettlement. Noticing her going a little pale till she swallowed and looked back toward Blake. “ the flier, I tried hiding behind a tree. Shot right through it going up my side.” she answered, trying to hide exhaustion in her tone. “are we even still near the river?” she asked. “i have no idea. I had to run for a while in the snow storm. Couldn't see past a few feet in front of me the whole night.” Blake answered sadly. “Without your fur gear you won't make It to the other side. Your breathing alone is already crippling your travel up.” Val spoke, looking up at the rock ceiling. “you think the low trail mite provide better cover for us to?” he asked. Time passing by without an answer from Val. “... why did you save me?” she suddenly asked. “why wouldn't I?” was the first answer Blake thought of, but that brought up many reasons why he shouldn't have. Some being extremely personal on why. “i … do you think I shouldn't have?” he asked, instead of giving an answer he couldn't quite figure out himself. “it was a mistake. I no longer have a use and now a drain on supplies. You'd been better off just leaving on your own. i am a burden, burdens cant be kept.” she spoke coldly, despite the matter hanging heavily over her own health. “you don't think that way.” Blake stated with disbelief over Vals words. “i think realistically. I can give nothing, so there is no purpose to bringing me along any further. We should separate here.” she stated with a glare toward the ceiling. “I had nothing to offer. You knew the way, you were going to leave Templegate no matter what. Why stick with me then? Wouldn't I have been a burden?” blake challenged her line of thought. “would you have even come to me if I didn't have something to offer?” she challenged back. “you avoided my question.” Blake glared. “you avoided mine. … it was a mistake.” she repeated with a returning glare. Turning back to stare at the ceiling. “ … i am not leaving you.” Blake ended on his side. He didn't want to just leave her alone to die from her injuries. Getting up to leave for a moment to gather more wood, more so to get a break for himself. “no reason to get attached. You were going to split at the town anyway. Why do you care after all that happened in the mines?” he thought in an attempt to get over the situation. “maybe because nobody should feel that way.” the tiny voice in the back of his mind spoke. “she's not normal though. She can kill me if she ever decides to. I need to get over this someday. Forget lynn, forget … Jessica … their gone. What's the point?” he thought. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, heading back with arm full of branches. Hoping he'll be able to get some actual deep sleep. Return back to Val examining the large blood stain on her clothes. Appearing to be so deep in thought she didn't react to Blakes returning presence. Both keeping silent until Blake momentarily broke it with an offer of food from his bag. Getting a silent head shake from Val. Turning away from him and the fire to simply fall asleep. Blake deciding to follow after. Making another pile of snow to rest his swollen face on in the meantime.

Wicker stomped down the sterile white halls of the lab. Aggressively in search of someone, anyone to get his frustrations out. Locking onto one poor researching passing the halls. “you!” he shouted as he yanked the man close. Holding him just barely off the ground. “what's the process on that new damn tower?!” he growled, looming aggressively over the poor man. “its set up sir!” the researcher blurted out. Flinching away to hide behind the clipboard he was holding. “can It be tested?!” wicker snapped impatiently for the next answer. “yes sir! We just did a small one a hour ago.” the man nodded quickly. Falling as he was shoved back to the floor. “fire it up again! Double the signal you used!” wicker yelled loud enough for his voice to echo through the halls. “yes sir!” the researcher spoke in panic as he ran off. “I'll get something done around here! Buy us some time as those survivors brains scramble!” wicker growled to himself.

___________________________________________ “blake, help. Blake please. BLAKE!” Jessica young voice screamed out in a fear. A sudden flash of white in the darkness startling Blake into waking his eyes. Heart pounding in his chest as it felt a tightening from the thin air. He sat up in the cold darkness of the room. Feeling a shiver go down his spine from the lack of fire. Hearing a strong wind blowing from outside in a storm like before. He got to his feet, rubbing his arms to try and warm himself. Feeling around the nearby darkness till he grabbed some collected wood. Slowly making a new fire to warm the room. Halting on putting wood on the fire when he saw Val missing from her resting place. The blood stained jacket having been left setting there alone. He quickly looked around for her. “val? Val?!” he shouted, looking even quicker over the small room. Panicking at the knowledge of her missing. Looking out the entrance into the thick snow storm blowing by. He didn't hesitate in grabbing a branch to burn for a torch. Throwing on the fur jacket before rushing out into the pitch black blowing winds.

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #val outlast

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v-thinks-on · 5 years

Text

Take Me Away

The usual programming will continue after a brief intermission...

Jim lay out on the back of a pickup truck in the middle of seemingly endless fields of corn. A humid breeze rustled the stalks around him, to briefly rival the chorus of crickets, chirping into the night. But he had eyes only for the stars.

Thousands upon thousands of pinprick lights filled the navy sky, each farther away and more enormous than he could begin to imagine. And in a hazy stripe across the sky was the arch of the milky way. There was a whole galaxy out there, and they were barely on the outskirts. He could only imagine worlds teeming with incomprehensible alien life. What planets orbited their brightest neighbor, Sirius, “only” eight light years away? Even Mars - hanging in the sky like a bright red star - could have been home to a whole civilization of little green men and they could be none the wiser.

There was so much out there, he wondered how anyone could be content with a simple life on Earth, to never see it all for themselves. Something seemed to draw him away from the ground, beckoning him toward the stars, to the life he knew was there if only they knew how to look for it. The shimmering lights seemed to wink at him, as though inviting him to share in a private little joke, teasing him, but never quite coming close enough to touch.

He yearned to call out - he would if only he thought there was a chance someone would hear - to shout into the abyss, “Come on, take me away!”

And then he saw a light, like a shooting star, or a satellite, crossing the sky.

But the light did not fade. At first he thought that maybe it was just an illusion, or a distant aeroplane. It seemed to grow larger and closer. It was no star, of that Jim was certain, but it wasn’t a plane or a helicopter either. And it wasn’t just crossing the sky; it was descending toward the ground not far away.

It couldn’t be an alien. There had to be life out there, but he wasn’t that lucky. It was probably some military experiment, some new equipment being tested out in the middle of nowhere. It could be dangerous, but still, he had to know for sure.

He threw himself out of the back of the truck and into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door shut behind him and stomped on the gas. He drove like a madman between narrow rows of corn, following a bright light in the sky. It drew closer and closer until he could see the glow emanating from the middle of one of his neighbors’ fields.

He pulled off the road and ran into the field through a sea of corn, toward the source of the light, even as he knew he would not find what he wanted, at least it would be something interesting.

He burst into a clearing to find something that was definitely a craft of some sort. It was much smaller than a plane and more angular than a helicopter. It could have been an astronaut landing back on Earth, but it didn’t look anything like the rockets on TV. It was shaped like a curved X, with sweeping purple wings. The material looked almost soft, though it must have been sturdy to survive the flight. He wondered if maybe it was a Soviet satellite.

His heart racing, Jim circled the craft in search of some evidence of its origin. It was surprisingly undamaged for the speed of its descent.

Then he heard a loud whoosh coming from the other side. He ran back around to find that the hull of the craft had opened up. Standing on the triangular flap that had covered the doorway was what Jim at first took for a man in a cloak.

Jim was about to ask him how he had opened the door when he noticed the man’s pointed ears and sharply slanted eyebrows.

Jim woke up to the bright light of the sunrise, unfiltered by windows or blinds. He was lying in the back of his truck - his back ached from spending a night pressed against the hard plastic. He must have fallen asleep while stargazing.

He struggled upright and stretched out his spine. It took him a little while to realize that he wasn't on his own property. The truck was parked on the side of a backroad that ran past his neighbor's fields. It was right where he'd left it- but that must have been a dream…

It was impossible, he knew it was impossible, but he leaped out of the truck and hurried back through the cornfield to where he had seen the strange craft the night before. He shouldn’t have been able to find it, but the clearing of flattened and even some charred stalks was difficult to miss.

Unidentified Flying Objects aside, the farm didn’t run itself - as much as Jim wished it could. After a hasty breakfast and the essential cup of coffee, Jim went into town to run some errands.

It was a tired little town, if it could even be called that, nestled between cornfields along the highway. There were a few shops, a diner, and some offices, the church was a little ways down the road. Everyone knew everyone else and had for generations. When Jim was younger, going into town had always been a treat. He and his older brother, Sam, would get milkshakes at the diner while their dad gossipped with the neighbors. It was livelier then.

It was a humid day. The towering grey clouds overhead threatened a stormy afternoon. It was quiet in town, maybe a little quieter than usual.

“Good morning, Janice.” He waved as he passed her on the way to the general store. She was still beautiful, with golden hair and soft features, and elegant dancer’s legs that went on forever. But she didn’t have much time for dancing any more.

“‘Morning, Jim,” she said with a smile. “How’s the old family farm?”

He shrugged. “Same as ever. Just looking for a spare part. How’s Emily? Is little Julie feeling better?”

“Much better now,” she said. “I suppose you’ve missed the latest news. Emily caught it too, but she’s doing alright.”

“Good,” Jim said. “Say hi to Bill and the kids for me.”

“Will do,” Janice said, and they each continued on their way.

Most of Jim’s old flames had settled down already, or better yet, moved on from this small town. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only one who hadn’t.

He was ambling down the street, lost in thought, when he spotted a man he didn’t recognize walking on the other side of the street. That in and of itself, would have been unusual enough, but stranger yet, he realized he did know that face. He hadn’t recognized him because he was no longer dressed in a long cloak, but in a button-down shirt and jeans, with a cap over his pointed ears, but he would know that face anywhere, long and deeply lined, with those sharp angular eyebrows.

“Hey!” Jim called out against all of his better judgement.

The man glanced over and met his eyes. He saw the flash of recognition, and then the man looked down and hurried away as though he had been caught on some top-secret mission.

Jim could only wonder what he had gotten caught up in, but despite himself, he couldn’t let it go.

“I’m just telling you what I saw,” Jim said.

“I know, and I’m just saying that you’re crazy,” Bones retorted.

They were sitting in the doctor’s office between patients. Bones was sitting at his desk, as though for a consultation, while Jim leaned against it, half standing.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Jim,” Bones continued. “I just think that if you had even an ounce of self-preservation, you’d run the other way and never look back. It doesn’t matter if it’s an alien or some sort of experimental aeroplane - ours or theirs - nothing good can come from snooping around.”

Jim sighed. “I just can’t get it out of my head…”

“If you ask me, you’re looking for trouble,” Bones said. “If you’re that desperate to get out of here, you should just sell the farm and be done with it, instead of risking your life.”

“I’m not-” Jim attempted to protest, but they both knew it fell flat. He tried again. “I just have to know. Anyway, even if I sold the farm, what would I do then?”

"I don't know, Jim," Bones said. "But I know that chasing after UFOs isn't the answer."

That night, Jim went for a drive, just to do some stargazing. He found the tallest hill for miles around - it just happened to be an embankment along an irrigation ditch - and sat in the back of his truck, looking out on the corn fields and the stars. In the distance he could see the cluster of lights of the town and scattered amidst the fields he saw his neighbors' houses. Slowly all the lights flickered out, first in town, and then finally in the houses, as the reasonable folks turned in for the night.

Then, Jim waited…

He must have fallen asleep on his watch because the next thing he knew it was morning and his whole body ached from spending the night sitting in the back of his truck. There had been no trace of the strange vessel he'd seen the night before.

He went out again. This time he struck out in a wide circle. Ever so often, he stopped and stepped out of the truck to scan the countryside. He drove for miles until his eyes drooped he had no choice but to stop for the night, or risk falling asleep at the wheel.

As another night drew on with no sight of the strange vessel. He wondered if maybe it and its mysterious pilot had moved on after he realized there wasn't much to see here. If only Jim had run after him that day in town- but then what would he have done?

Bones was right, he should just leave it be and move on with his life. And, for a little while, Jim did, though he still could not help but scan the night sky in the hope of spotting the vessel on the horizon.

A few days later, Jim was driving along a lonely road when he spotted an old abandoned barn sitting in the middle of an overgrown field. He didn’t think much of it at first glance, but it slowly dawned on him that if he wanted to hide a large, brightly colored craft, that would be just the place to put it.

It was absurd. Even if the craft and its mysterious occupant hadn’t departed days ago, the chances of running into it like this were astronomical and it was a bad idea besides. But somehow he couldn't let it go, not when he'd come so close to something, whatever this was.

Jim made a sharp u-turn and pulled into the field. He ploughed through the tall stalks, all the way up to the entrance to the barn. The peeling wooden door caught against the ground, but finally he managed to shove it open and was met with a rush of musty air, heavy with the smell of rotting wood.

A hulking silhouette filled most of the high-ceilinged room. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, streaming in through the door and filtering through cracks in the walls and roof, he could make out the reddish-purple broadside of the strange craft. He had forgotten how unusual the material was; it looked almost soft like velvet, arched in sweeping curves, but it was hard, almost steely to the touch.

Jim circled the craft, examining it from all angles with wide eyes. His heart raced, expecting its mysterious inhabitant to emerge at any moment. Perhaps, if he had known more, each discovery would have evoked yet more questions, but as it was, he merely marveled at the unusual structure. Whether it was an alien ship or some experimental technology, it looked strikingly out of place in a run-down old barn, and he couldn’t imagine where it would belong.

He circled the craft again and still, the mysterious man did not appear. Jim’s fingers trailed along the smooth surface, searching for the thinnest crack that could be pried open. If he was caught, he had no excuse for trying to break into whatever it was, but he needed to know. He pulled and pried until his fingers ached, but to no avail.

In a final burst of frustration he pounded at the unyielding wall. “I know you’re in there! Come out and-” he stopped short; he wasn’t really looking for a fight. Lamely he attempted, “I just want to talk.”

He thought he heard something creaking. He waited for the door of the craft to open with bated breath.

Of course, there was no answer.

Still, he waited. He had chores to complete back at the farm and his stomach growled at the thought of a dinner he had yet to prepare, but he could not risk the strange craft leaving, never to return. Perhaps it had already been abandoned, its job done, its owner never to return.

The light slowly faded as the sun settled on the horizon outside. He could still see a few golden licks of light creeping in between the rafters, but inside it quickly turned dark. He was contemplating going back to his truck to fetch a flashlight when the old wood gave a fearsome creak.

Jim froze.

It was probably just the wind pulling at the old planks. He should have been more afraid of the old barn collapsing on him than anything or anyone trying to enter.

Another creak, perhaps even louder than the first. He could hear the door shifting, struggling against the dirt.

Jim ducked back behind the craft, so he could just barely see the door behind one of its arched wings.

The door groaned and scraped against the hard ground as it slid ever so slowly open. Silhouetted in the doorway, he could make the dark figure of a man. For a moment, the man stood there, perhaps scanning the darkness as his eyes adjusted. Jim could almost feel the man’s strange sharp eyes fixed on him.

With a jolt, Jim remembered his truck, left in plain sight outside of the barn - a dead give away. There was still a chance of slipping out without being noticed; if the man first returned to his craft, or even if he started to search, it was dark enough that if Jim tread carefully in the opposite direction, he could be out, back in his truck before he knew it. If he was lucky the man would just hear him driving away.

But then it would all be for nothing.

Jim stole himself against all his better judgement and stepped out of his hiding place. His heart raced as he attempted to greet the man with a sheepish smile and a friendly wave.

“You,” the man said, his voice sharply accusatory. “What do you want?”

Jim could see him more clearly now; he was the same man Jim had seen that night stepping out of the craft and then in town the other day. He was watching Jim with eyes narrowed in suspicion and a tight-lipped frown.

“I was curious,” Jim explained. “There hasn’t been anything this interesting in town since- well, I’ve never seen anything quite like your vessel here.” He gave the craft a pat for good measure.

The man inclined his head in acknowledgement. Even dressed normally, there was something alien about him. He had a mysterious allure that held more power over Jim than he carried to admit.

When the man did not continue, Jim pressed, though he knew he was trying his luck, “What is it?”

The man hesitated, but his answer betrayed no reluctance. “It is a starship.” He held up a hand facing Jim, his thumb out and his fingers split between the middle and ring as though in a strange sign. “I come in peace.”

Jim’s eyes widened as the gears clicked into place. He had suspected, but he had dismissed it as impossible. “You’re an alien.”

“Yes,” the man acknowledged.

“Well I’ll be,” he said in the words of Dr. McCoy.

“What will you be?” The alien asked, his eyebrows quizzically raised.

Jim just shook his head. The man before him was an alien. He could hardly believe it, but it all made perfect sense - he just had to look at the starship next to him and it was obvious.

Jim remembered himself at last and said with a wry grin, “Nice to meet you. Do you have a name? I’m Jim.”

“My name is” - the alien made an indecipherable sound - “But you may call me Spock.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Spock,” Jim replied. He held out a hand to the alien.

Spock hesitated again before finally reaching out to meet him. His grasp was light, almost nervous, and very warm. For the clumsiness of the gesture, there was a tremendous weight to it; for all Jim knew, he was the first man to shake hands with an alien, welcoming him to Earth.

#v writes #Star Trek: The Original Series #Spirk-ish

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spellbounding-slytherin · 5 years

Text

So, talking about my Novels a bit more....

Hey there its Vira!

Thought I would talk about my novels a bit more, just so you guys know what you all would be getting into.

So, lets talk about Novel 1.

The Rings of Gallilea: Sworn to Rebirth

(Aka: TROG/ TROGSTR)

So here are the main plot points of the novel:

It is the sacred duty of the Celestial Trinity (the Sun, Moon and Earth) to protect the life in their solar system from outside alien threats

An imperial speciest race known as the Cantillians dub Humans inferior to them, thus sparking a war between them the Celestial Trinity.

The nine planets ally themselves with the Celestial Trinity to protect themselves from a God-destroying weapon created by the Cantillians known as the Catalyst.

The Rings of Gallilea are formed in an attempt to protect the solar system.

The goddess of the moon utilizes their influence on humanity to create a re-birthing curse. As long as humanity shares legends of the gods they will not die.

During a battle with the Cantillian emperor (known as the Serpent) Earth is hit by the Catalyst, destroying his physical form.

One-by one the Rings of Gallilea and the Celestial Trinity fall.

Eventually it is only Mercury The god of knowledge, Moon, the goddess of magic and Pluto rhw God of Alchemy left

In order to save humanity, Moon forces Mercury to give her an "unforgettable" curse so she will retain her memories as a goddess.

Moon uses what is left of her magical power to trap the Cantillian emperor in a diffrent dimension, before she is killed.

Moon falls to earth taking on the form of a human infant.

She is found by the son of a former cult leader and raised moon aware of her godly identity.

Out of gratitude, moon grants her new father figure the "Power of The North Star" and shares a magical bond with him

Their mission now, is to locate the fallen Gods and prepare them for the fight against the looming Cantillian threat.

In summary:

The Rings of Gallilea is a magical Sifi adventure, with sub themes of romance, and drama. The message of The Rings of Gallilea is self-sacrifice, defying fate, humility and mercy along with second chances.

Lets meet our cast!

Luna Abyss- our female lead, Luna is the Goddess of the moon and Magic. Before what Luna refers to as "The Fall" she was regal, elegant and refined. Growing up on earth with her drunkard guardian Victor, and running from government officials who seem to pick up on Luna's signals wherever she goes changed her quite a bit. Luna uses her twin blades Artemis and Frigga to fight off the Cantillian forces sent by recon forces. Luna likes dancing to loud music at ungodly hours, getting fast food at midnight, dogs, and exploring places she probably shouldn't.

Terra Greenwood- Our male lead, Terra is the God of Earth, Nature and humanity. Terra grew up with his Grandma after his dad walked out on his drug-addicted mother. Terra is a member of the Apache Indians, and lives on a reservation in Greenville New Mexico. Terra, despite struggling with depression and minor anger issues, dreams of living a normal life. Getting a good education, a well paying job, taking his grandma and moving far away from Greenville....that Is until Luna shows up. Terra fights with his magic spear Gia, and can command Earth and Nature on a whim. While his abilities are still weak, with some training there is no doubt that Terra can return to his former Glory. Terra enjoys driving his old pickup truck down town, while listening to the hard rock radio station, helping his grandma take care of her garden, and hanging out with his best friends Mitchel and John.

Stella Brighton- our rich mean girl archetype. Stella is the goddess of the Sun. Stella grew up in her mother's mansion sheltered away from the middle and lower class, until one day she forms an unlikely friendship with Terra. An Unlikely friendship turns into an unlikely crush and an unlikely romance. That is until Stella's hopes and dreams are crushed when she discovers her mother and Stepfather have planned an arranged marriage for her. Stella breaks off her relationship with Terra and keeps her head held-high. Stella fights with her fiery bow, Apollo, and can spark a wildfire wherever she pleases. Stella enjoys shopping, traveling, taking selfies, and flaunting her status as Student Council President.

Mitchel James- the Nerd boy archetype, Mitchel is the God of Mercury, Knowledge and Communication (arguably revenge as well) As a young lad, Mitchel idolized his dad, who was in the military. Oftentimes it would be him and his mom while his dad was on deployment. Mitchel took a liking to computer science and technology, because thanks to that he was able to keep in touch with his dad even when he was far away. When Mitchel was 8 years old his dad died in active duty, and it wasn’t long until his mom took to a Sugar Baby lifestyle to try and provide for Mitchel without having to get a job. Mitchel is bullied at school for being the scrawny nerd boy, and takes revenge on his bullies by hacking into their computers and leaking their search history. After Luna rolls into town Mitchel's world is flipped upside down. Suddenly he isn’t armed with just brain-power but physical power. Mitchel fights in a way that is unique to the Rings of Gallilea. Mitchel can create Angels to fight as champions for him. He also uses a Chackram named Athena. Mitchel enjoys hacking into local security cameras to see whats up around town, exploring the dark web, arguing with radical political activists on-line.

John Kingsman- The play-boy Archetype, John is the God of Jupiter Kings, and lightning. John lives what is arguably the best life of anyone in the rings. His parents breed police dogs. Meaning his house is always full of puppies. John's dad is a former military officer, and both him and his mom are current police force members. John is the baby in his family, but is held to high standards. Be home before 7, get good grades, and take care of the dogs. John fights with his Claymore Sword, Odin, along with special abilities like lighting and psychological manipulation. John, obviously enjoys taking the dogs for walks, playing basketball, and going to the shooting range with his mom.

Hotaru Kawaguchi- The goth archetype, and Goddess of Saturn, Time and Death. Hotaru's parents immigrated to the United States after the death of Hotaru's older brother, Hikaru. They came here to give the intellectually gifted Hotaru better opportunities as she grew older. To help support her, the family opened a restaurant in the down town area that quickly became one of the most popular spots in town. Hotaru never really got over Hikaru's death, and took comfort in the macabre. Over summer, Hotaru picks up a second job to earn enough money to afford her dream car, working in an occult shop. She also finds herself involved in an unlikely summer romance. Aside from being able to freeze time and communicate with the dead, Hotaru fights with her staff, Hades, that can transform into a scythe. Hotaru loves books and quite sunny spaces, she likes painting, meditation, watching Elvira specials, and helping her mother and father learn better English.

Aries Vailakis- the Jock archetype, God of Mars and war. Just like Stella he too grew up with rich parents. His family comes a from proud Greek heritage, and own a chain of Mediterranean style restaurants. Aries is a star member of the football team, and is expected to take over the family business when he gets out of college. Most people think there isn't much to Aries other than food and football, sometimes Aries thinks that too. But being a competitive teenage god, can lead to some intense shenanigans. Especially when family, love and blackmail are involved. Aries fights with some seriously thick brass knuckles that spit fire. His brass knuckles can also transform into a large shield, Neiro. Aries likes cooking, working out, watching horror movies with his S/O, and very secretly likes looking at minimalist homes in the Greek countryside in homeowner's magazines.

June Smith, the flip Archetype, Goddess of Venus beauty, seduction and battle. June's mom divorced her dad to be with another man when she was young. Years later June would find out she died of cancer without telling her or her father. Needless to say June had a rough start in life. Given that her dad was the high school principal, she couldn't even act out and punch some nerd in the face. In the day light June masquerades as the nerdy turtleneck loving teacher's pet kinda girl. At night June flips ditching her turtle neck for something low cut and preferably leather. Sneaking out under the ruse of sleep or studying, June slips out to hang out on the edge of town with the local biker gang known as the Black Cat Bikers. Junes got the best of both worlds, her dad wrapped around her finger, and her legs wrapped around the back of her boys bikes. June fights with the sword Atalanta, and can change into any weapon June sees fit. June can also manipulate peoples hormones, making them fall for her or anyone. June will never admit it, but she likes wearing pink fluffy sweaters, she also loves getting fucking drunk, going out to see drag shows, sleeping in until noon, and playing with makeup.

Serena Paisley- The hippy archetype- Serena is the Goddess of Neptune, the ocean and family. Serena is the younger twin sister of Heath. Serena grew up close to her mother, who was somewhat of helicopter parent. Serena’s mother owns a brewing company, and is heavily involved in the Greenvile political scene. growing up in a spotlight Serena wanted to use her spotlight to encourage others to do good, and can often be found doing charity work. One big secret Serena has, is that she is a big fan of smoking weed. being a politicians daughter was a stressful job after all. Serena, can command any body of water and has great people skills. Her very loyal weapon is her trident, Namaka. Serena’s hobbies include Yoga, smoking weed, collecting crystals, playing the pan-flute, and thrift store shopping.

Heath Paisley- The rich boy archetype- Heath is the God of Uranus, Ice, Snow and Vengeance. Heath, is the polar opposite of his sister. He grew up chasing the affections of his long-distance father, who is an actor in Hollywood. Heath has a cold demeanor, and takes a some-what sadistic pleasure in controlling others. He is the student council president at the private school he and Serena attend, Hayden Heights Academy. Heath is secretly insecure about his sexuality, and is in denial about being attracted to men. Heath spends a majority of his time covering for his sisters ‘distasteful shenanigans” in student council meetings, or following in the footsteps of his politician mother. Heath has the power to control Ice, and cold temperatures, he can also force criminals to admit their deeds.Heath fights with twin sickles Poli’Ahu and Endymion.His hobbies include: casual business luncheons, bossing his underclassmen around, and he secretly likes it when his S/O leans over his shoulder while he is trying to work.

Romeo Barns- The rebel archetype- Romeo is the God of Pluto, Alchemy, and Transformation. Romeo has always felt like a social outcast, specifically because he discovered his godly powers at a young age. Romeo lives with his overly preachy preacher uncle, who believes in only one good god above. Romeo, being a sarcastic little shit, decides he needs to be everything his uncle isn't. Romeo sells weed for the Black Cat Biker Gang, his true "Family". Which is how a filthy little grunge rat like him became friends with Serena Paisley. Roemo's godly body grows organic blade-like structures which he can use to defend himself. His clawed-gauntlets, Thanatos and Cerberus add an extra punch. In his spare time Romeo can be seen around town riding his motorcycle. At night he is out spraying unique and vulgar messages on billboards. At school he likes to read the "boring unpopular books" like Catcher in The Rye and Lord of The Flies, and strumming along to his favorite songs on his base guitar

And thats just novel number 1! I'll make a second post about novel number 2 since this is already a quite lengthy post.

Let me know what you guys think, and if you wanna see more.

See ya later

- Vira!

#novel #novelist #writers #writing #writblr #author #sifi #fantasy #meet the characters #gods and goddesses #plot #magic #ocs #oc #oc fanfiction #oc facts

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asbigastheskybook · 6 years

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The one where Tak and Emory go to a party in their kigurimi

Spring break had come and gone and on a foggy night in early April, the Shark and the Hedgehog sauntered up the dark streets of Berkeley, walking from Shattuck BART to Haste, up to College Avenue. They held hands as they walked in shadows, enjoying the quiet spring night once they were above Telegraph. They were headed to a place near the Julia Morgan building for a party put on by the Pan-Asian student union. It was to be an Animal Onesie themed party to raise money for a member of the union who was battling leukemia while trying to finish her masters degree. They wore the onesies Emory’s aspiring fashion designer little sister had sewn them. Emory hadn't wanted to go at all but Tak pointed out that nearly everyone there was going to be an Asian nerd which made Emory feel a little less out of place than he did at other college parties full of red cup woo-bros.

Neither of them wanted to be sober, and neither of them wanted to try to find parking in Elmwood, and neither of them wanted to shell out for a driver so they walked, choosing to wear the onesies instead of carrying a backpack and trying to keep track of it all night. They had just reached College Avenue and were nearly there when some asshole in a yellow hummer screeched to a stop where they were crossing the street, revved his engine, rolled down the window and screamed,

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY YOU FUCKIN CHING CHONG FAGGOTS!” And as soon as their toes touched the sidewalk on the other side of the intersection he peeled out, fishtailing over the narrow suburban streets.

“Jesus what the fuck?” Tak glared at the tail lights.

“Well he does drive a hummer.” Emory shrugged and looked at his shoes.

“I hope he chokes on a bag of sweaty dicks,” Tak grumbled.

“Hey,” Emory stopped and looked at Tak “Don't let that shitbag ruin your night. He means nothing.”

“I am trying not to. I was a little scared, Em. I forget that not everyone, even in Berkeley, is cool with gay dudes or Asians. Or gay Asians.” Tak kicked at some leaves on the sidewalk.

“Gaysians,” Emory corrected.

Tak laughed so hard he snorted. “Emory, I don't know what I would do without your smart ass.” He draped his long shark fins over the stout hedgehog.”We’re almost there, lets get baked.” He brought out his vape. Tak had brought an Indica, super stupid and stoney, not meant for anyone who had anything important to do today or probably tomorrow either. The plan was to get as high as possible in order to tolerate the crowds of other Asian students in fuzzy animal suits dancing to K-Pop. Tak had originally planned not to go, despite being regularly involved with the organization, but then someone had made a comment about him not really being that Asian and he wasn't about to take any shit from some third gen kid who didnt even speak his own language fluently when Tak, despite mostly appearing black, spoke nearly fluent Japanese.

They strolled another block to the party, several animals outside chatting over loud music emanating from inside. There was a gaggle of Japanese girls in matching unicorn onesies, a kangaroo, a corgi, a giraffe, two Pikachus, and a Totoro.

“I didn't know we could wear character onesies.” Tak pouted.

“Yeah that's bullshit, they said animals. I wanted to be Cthulhu.” Emory scowled, but not seriously. The Indica was taking over, and shuffling into the building was taking concentration. They shouldered their way inside and headed straight to the makeshift bar where they got juices, Ramune for Tak and grass jelly for Emory. Nearby tables held all sorts of snacks from the Asian market. There was dried squid, onigiri, rice crackers, wasabi peas, dumplings, etc. Not even the worse case of the munchies could convince Emory to eat party food that other people had touched and then put their hands to their mouths, and then back to the bowl. Gross.

The plan was to make a loop to say hello, then make another loop to say goodbye and then get the fuck out. Tak knew most people here and Emory knew a fair bit as well, but this was the first time they had gone to a college party as a couple and Emory gave no fucks what people thought, but he could tell Tak wasn't completely there yet, and considering the incident with the hummer bro, he tread carefully.

So it was a bit of a jolt when Emory introduced Tak to two vietnamese guys, Tu (Husky dog) and Rithi (racoon), as his boyfriend. Tak froze up when Tu offered out a fist to bump, and Emory caught a glimpse of Tak’s hesitation. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but he was a little indignant. He tried to remember that Tak and he were both super high and not to trip out and what-if the hell out of a little hesitation for a handshake. It wasn't until after they had finished chatting with Tu and Rithi and Tak still wouldn't meet his eyes that he started to get pissed.

Emory spotted a back hallway leading to a door and without a word grabbed Tak’s fin in his paw and dragged him to it. He lugged the shark into the hall, glowering, before opening the door and yanking Tak inside.

It was not a back door to the outside as Emory had hoped, it was a closet. There was a mop and bucket, some big box size packages of toilet paper and paper towels, and other relevant miscellany. A bare bulb glowed from the ceiling. Emory, flustered at this development, quickly reached to lock the door behind them.

“Tak, what the fuck. I can't tell people you're my boyfriend here?” Emory asked, hurt and accusatory.

“I'm sorry I did that. I really am. I don't know why I did that.” Tak said, clearly grappling with being just a little too high for the conversation.

“If you don't want to be out at a party, you have to tell me before we get there. I don’t have a problem keeping it under wraps, especially if you don't feel safe, but you have to let me know, Tak,” Emory breathed hard through his nose when he finished speaking.

“ I do. I did. I do.” Tak stammered. It was unlike him to drop his eyes and struggle. “I,.. Emory, that was the first time anyone ever called me a faggot. I'm not joking when I say that Hummer dude scared me. I don't want to get beat up and murdered just for being in love with you. I started spacing out on the walk over here thinking about what I would do if someone tried to fuck with us. I thought about what I’d do if someone hurt you. I started just spiraling into worst case scenarios and thinking about how I take our safety for granted here. I was buggin’ out and I shut down. I'm a little too high, Im sorry,” he heaved a heavy sigh.

“For being in love with you” played on a loop in Emory’s mind as his eyes traced over Tak’s countenance, his slumped shoulders, tucked chin, arms hanging at his sides. He’d never get used to the way those words made him feel.

“UGH I can't be mad. There isn't anything to be mad about. I just want you to tell me if you don't feel safe or it there is something you need from me before we go places. I don't want to push you to be out everywhere we go but you do need to give me the heads up. I feel like an asshole for assuming without asking if we were out here,” Emory folded his arms across his chest but his eyes were soft.”I cant fight with you while you’re wearing a shark suit.”

“I want to be out here. There’s no reason to hide here. We aren’t even the only queers here. I want to show you off to people and make them hella jealous...I think being super stoned just made me paranoid. One toke over the line, man,” Tak shrugged.

Emory covered his mouth and his shoulders shook.

“What?” Tak crowded his eyebrows together.

Emory started to laugh behind his hand. “Its just that Im locked in closet with a giant in a shark suit, having a serious conversation about my relationship while Im dressed as a hedgehog, and Im super high.” He started to laugh harder, “You can’t make this shit up.”

Tak took a moment to view the situation from outside himself and yes, it was very, very hilarious. He began to giggle, then laugh, then gasp between bouts of belly laughs.

Emory watched Tak laughing and felt all warm and gooey in his chest. He want to kiss him, right now. He stepped closer, grabbing a fistful of shark suit in each hand and yanked Tak close. Tak’s laugh stopped but his smile went on for eons. Emory had the look. That look. Tak knew that he was going to do anything Emory asked when he saw that look. He leaned in to kiss Emory, one hand keeping his balance, which was intermittent right now, on a shelf. The other hand slipped into Emory’s hedgehog hood, and held the back of his neck. He could feel the heat coming off of Emory through their fuzzy suits as he pressed his body into Emory. Emory was avoiding his kiss, teasing him, making Tak chase his lips, snapping his teeth at him and smirking.

“Give me that!” Tak growled, pulling on Emory’s neck harder until his lips crashed into Emory’s. He felt Emory’s smirk fade under his own lips and his posture softened as he kissed Tak back with sensual and deep open mouth kisses, making Tak want to pitch himself into the abyss of Emory’s touch. After many moments, as kisses turned into lips on necks and ears and throats, Emory whispered into Tak’s ear,

“I really can’t wait to get you alone.”

Tak grinned. Emory knew all the buttons to push and Tak wondered how soon they could ditch this party. Tak’s hands wandered into his hood and into his hair. Emory could play cool, but not when Tak played with his hair, that was when he lost all thought being stealthy or tame. Emory’s eyes simmered and he flashed a grin before claiming Tak’s mouth again. Tak rested one long hand on Emory’s shoulder, the other in his hair, tugging close to the scalp, eliciting a rumble from Emory’s throat.

“More.” Emory demanded, digging his thumbs into Tak’s hip bones in an almost painful and insistent way. Tak pulled harder at his hair and Emory bit down viciously at his neck. Tak moaned and his head tipped back, making a loud noise when it landed on the shelf behind him. He heard someone tapping on the door, jiggling the handle. He didn't care.

“Fuck off!” he managed to shout to whomever was on the other side. The knocking stopped. “Goddamn Emory your mouth is going to kill me,” Tak murmured. Emory nipped again and pulled back to see the mark he had left on Tak’s neck, which was not discrete or small. He laughed louder than he expected to and jumped when another banging knock came from the door.

#AsBigAsTheSky #takashibennett #emorydelacruz #mlm #gaybook #gay #pansexual #mixed race

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cookieswriting · 6 years

Text

Fade Away (Chicago PD - 3x01 missing scenes)

((I was discontent with how Jay went from sitting up in the back of an ambo to being held overnight at the hospital...and am a huge sucker for jay!whump. Originally posted to AO3, forgot to post it here...sorry...hope you enjoy!)

Jay Halstead sighed heavily as he watched his partner – no, former partner. She threw it all away…this was just…a one time thing – walk away stiffly. After the ordeal in the mansion, he felt…off. Something just wasn’t right, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was; everything ached and throbbed, so it was impossible to discern what was out of place. While he’d been talking to Sylvie he’d written the strange feeling off as just another side effect of being tortured for 24 hours. Now that Erin was walking away, though…

Before he could dwell on it too long, shadows crossed his vision. “Hey, man, how are you holding up?” Ruzek questioned quietly, stepping up and blocking Jay from the sun’s harsh rays. A glance to his partner’s stance let Jay know the positioning was intentional, and he found himself grateful for the small gesture.

“We were worried about you…they were brutal,” Atwater added.

Jay cracked a wry smile as he rubbed a hand over what little undamaged space was left on his chest. Now it was just getting annoying. “Nah, I’ll be fine, I’ve been through significantly worse interrogations than that.” The sharp inhales of both partners in front of him let the detective know he’d said too much. With a sigh, he closed his eyes.

“Jesus, Jay…”

“I –” Abruptly, white-hot pain filled his chest, and he couldn’t catch his breath. Instinctively, the former Ranger curled in on himself, a firm grip on his shoulders the only thing keeping him from falling out of the ambulance.

“Hey, hey, easy…what’s going on?” Adam questioned. Atwater disappeared, but Ruzek didn’t react, too focused on keeping Jay upright. “Talk to me, buddy.”

“My… shit, my chest…some…s’mthin’s wr-wrong,” Jay gasped, clinging to Adam’s arms like he was struggling to cling to consciousness. Voices bombarded his ears after that, but it sounded more and more like he was underwater and they were far beyond his reach. Darkness crept into his vision, dragging him further into the abyss until blissful unawareness carried him away.

Adam Ruzek watched his partner fade. It was something he knew he’d never forget…more than hearing Jay’s hoarse cries as he was being beaten and tasered…it was watching Jay Halstead the moment his heart stopped beating.

Not that he’d known that was what happened when he initially sagged against him. It wasn’t until Atwater returned with Sylvie and Chili, who immediately tugged him away, laid Jay on the ground, and reported that he didn’t have a pulse, that he felt the first overwhelming shock of fear. After he’d walked himself out of that God-forsaken mansion, they were losing him anyway. Adam stumbled back numbly as Chili began compressions and Sylvie scrambled into the rig.

“My God,” Antonio breathed beside him. The younger detective turned.

“He…he was okay. He was talking just a minute ago, and then started gasping.”

“He’s got burns all over his chest and abdomen. How many times did they hit him with a Taser?” Sylvie questioned after tearing his shirt the rest of the way open. They hooked him up to a portable AED, and Adam watched Jay’s body arch against the shock. When Sylvie looked to him for an answer, he could only shake his head in response.

“Nothing,” Chili growled. “Once more. Come on, Halstead, you’ve made it this far. Don’t cut out on your team now.” The AED beeped. “Clear!”

The new surge of electricity was followed by a heaving breath, and Antonio’s hand felt like lead on Adam’s shoulder. “We’ve gotta get him over to Med. Doesn’t his brother work over there? Might be a good idea to give him a heads up if he doesn’t wake up before we get there. Can you give him a call?” Chili questioned. Adam nodded, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts until he found the hospital. As he asked for Will, Ruzek watched the ambulance pull away from the house and speed towards the highway.

Awareness returned to Halstead in the form of painful pressure on his sternum. He groaned and tried to push off the offender.

“There you go, wake up, sunshine,” a familiar voice insisted. Jay turned his head in the direction of the voice, and opened his eyes slowly.

“Doctor Halstead, I know he’s your brother, but was it necessary to do that to my patient?”

“It woke him up, didn’t it? Come on, Jay, enough sleeping on the job.”

As his eyes adjusted to the light, Jay processed his brother’s tone. Despite his words, Will was worried about him. “You could’ve asked nicely, ya know.”

“I did. Several times.” When the younger Halstead finally focused on his older brother, Will quirked a tired smile at him. “Welcome back.”

Jay looked around, taking in the sterile equipment around him and the IV secured to the back of his hand. “What happened?” The smile fell. “Will?”

“How much do you remember?”

He thought for a moment. “I remember being taken, Erin coming in and the team getting me out…and I remember talking to Erin sitting in the ambo. After that…it’s a blank til now. I’d been checked out and was just waiting on the confirmation that I could go home. What landed me here?” Will watched him for a moment seriously.

“Your heart stopped in the middle of a conversation with Adam and Kevin.”

Jay shook his head in surprise. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed, huffing a laugh. “Doesn’t happen often, but it could have been a combination of Taser hits messing with your pulse and added stress.” He shook his head, eyes becoming distant and face becoming serious. “If they’d Tasered you one more time, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“But they didn’t, and we are. Don’t go there,” Jay murmured. “So…when can I get out of here?”

Will rolled his eyes, and gestured to Dr. Manning. “All yours, Nat. I’m not touching that one.” Jay flipped his brother off, before turning an innocent smile to the brunette, fighting a smirk at the elder Halstead’s chuckle.

“I’m definitely keeping you overnight, Detective-”

“Jay, please. If you have to put up with this clown on a daily basis, you’re practically family.”

“Jay,” she amended with an amused smile. “Like I was saying, I’m going to keep you here for tonight, monitor your heart to make sure it’s keeping a steady rhythm. If everything looks okay in the morning, I’ll think about sending you home, but you’ll be on medical leave for at least a week, understood?”

The fact that the former Ranger did not argue was a testament to how sore and tired he was. “Understood. Thanks, Nat.”

Dr. Manning squeezed his forearm with a smile, and he was grateful that she avoided his still-sore shoulders. “Glad you’re okay, Jay. Get some rest.” With a pointed look to her coworker, she ducked out of the room.

Will pushed himself out of the chair, and hovered near the foot of the bed. “Mouse is in the waiting room. You ready for company?” Jay nodded. “I’ll send him in…I have a feeling Erin’s not too far behind, but I’ll give it a minute before I let the rest of your team know you’re awake.”

Jay watched him shuffle towards the door, tension radiating off of the doctor. “Will,” he called, voice low and tired. He waited until his brother turned back, face solemn and drawn. “Have a drink for me.”

The small smile tugging at Will’s lips felt like victory enough for Jay. “I’m back in first thing tomorrow. I’ll check in on you before my shift…maybe give you a ride home if I’m feeling particularly charitable.” The elder Halstead grinned, rapped his knuckles lightly on the doorjamb, and made his way towards the waiting room.

Jay took the quiet moment to breathe, and take stock of the aches and pains that he could still feel. The pain meds he’d been put on were working well, but he knew that after discharge, he wouldn’t be taking anything that they gave him. Once he made it home, he’d rather be alert and able to react to any threat that might arise even if it meant being in pain.

“Hey, man.” The soft voice of his best friend drew Jay from his thoughts once more, and he gave Mouse the most reassuring smile he could muster. “Atwater and Ruzek are out in the waiting room, and they said they were gonna let the others know you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

The detective couldn’t help but think back on how Mouse had been just two years before…twitchy, anxious, and frequently on the wrong side of the law. He was beyond grateful to have the Mouse he’d fought alongside back…the one that had saved his life countless times, and the one that had dragged him back from the precipice before spiraling down his own hole once they got back. The man before him was healthy, steady, confident…despite the lingering guilt and fear Jay could read in his eyes. “A little sore, but no worse than that time in Kandahar,” he replied. Mouse flinched, and his suspicion that something was really wrong was confirmed. “Mouse…”

“That time in Kandahar didn’t end in your heart stopping, Jay. That time in Kandahar, I was able to find you!”

“And was I not found this time? Did the team not get there in time to get me and Lindsay out of there?” What was he talking about?

“No thanks to me!” Mouse snapped, head ducking as he realized he’d raised his voice.

“Wh-Mouse, what is that supposed to mean?”

Blue eyes followed Mouse’s movements as he dragged a hand through his hair and paced the small room. “I was watching the sting from the tech room…up until the first taser hit. Fried the wire. After that, I tried everything to get a lock on where they might be taking you. They ditched everything that I could have possibly used. It wasn’t until a few hours later that Antonio came down to find me…told me about a DVD that had been dropped off. He didn’t want to show me at first, but I told him I needed to see it before we started making up the false files.” His voice caught in his throat, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Brought me back to watching the hadji’s beat you senseless.” He let out a soft, humorless laugh. “I thought they were going to kill you that day…it was so much worse than what was on that video…and yet this is the beating that did you in.”

“Hey,” Jay interrupted, staring hard at Mouse until he finally turned. “I’m right here, they brought me back. After you found me.”

“I was so wrapped up in the memory of that day…so freaked out by that damn video, by the fact that I wasn’t there...it was like my brain shut off. I could hardly function, man.”

“Mouse...this wasn’t like that day. If anyone had been in there with me, I’d bet he would have done the same to them that he did to his brother. This? This I can handle. I wouldn’t have been able to deal with your blood on my hands.”

“So I’m supposed to deal with your blood on mine? Jay...for a few minutes, that was a reality for me. Your heart was not beating. You were dead. Will told me how close it was...how we were almost too late. I-” he cut off with a grimace, dragged a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, man. You’ve been through enough without having to deal with me freaking out.”

Jay reached out instinctively when Mouse turned towards the door, and couldn’t help the soft hiss when his shoulders protested. His friend reacted as if he’d been physically struck, and turned back, face pale. “Don’t shut me out, man. I’m tired, I’m sore, but I’m not about to let you walk out of here blaming yourself for this. I will get out of this bed and follow you if you don’t sit down.” The younger man couldn’t help an exasperated smile, and dropped into a chair with a shake of his head. “This isn’t on you. None of it. I...if our positions had been reversed? I’d have gone ballistic. You’re my best friend, and we were supposed to be done with worrying about each other getting taken.”

“I get the feeling we’ll never get to stop worrying about that,” Mouse commented wryly. Jay watched him closely for a long moment, only raising an eyebrow when the other man held his gaze. “Fine, it’s not my fault,” he relented.

The detective grinned in triumph. “Thank you.”

A timid smile was his reward. “Okay...someone else who is taking on responsibility for this could probably use a pep-talk too...are you ready for Erin to come in?” Jay took a slow, steadying breath, and nodded. His best friend stood again and settled a hand over his ankle. “I’ll get your apartment ready. Get some rest, brother.” Affection filled him as he watched Mouse disappear around the corner; his best friend had come a long way since they’d come home...but no matter how far he’d fallen, Greg Gerwitz had always been there to get Jay back on his feet. The detective only hoped that pulling him up into Intelligence had shown him a fraction of the gratitude he felt for that steadfast support...because it certainly hadn’t been enough to make up for the time he’d failed to repay him.

Erin stepped into his line of vision, and tears immediately filled her eyes as she took in the sight of him. “Jay…”

“Come here,” he murmured, gesturing her to his side. She complied, albeit reluctantly, and when she was within reach Jay wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “I don’t care what happened before...what matters is that you came back for me. You got me out.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and Jay’s chest tightened. “If I had been there with you at the airport...maybe you wouldn’t have been taken to begin with.” She tried to pull away from his grip, and he simply tightened it. “I should’ve-”

“Erin, there is no way we could have known Keyes was willing to kill his own brother, or that he would recognize me as a cop. There’s nothing you can do to change what happened...but like I said, I don’t care about that. You’re here now...and I’m sure you’re going to mother hen me for the next week…” She couldn’t smother a tender smile, and he tugged her closer. When he winced, Erin ghosted her fingers over his shoulder and settled on his jaw, eyes searching his face. “I’m fine, just sore. I promise, Linds. Just...lay with me for a while?”

“I...they won’t like that very much,” she insisted, even as she dropped her bag beside the bed. “I happen to have an in with one of the ED docs,” Jay teased, shifting gingerly over to make room for her. He’d take whatever pain it caused, so long as it helped Erin find some semblance of comfort in knowing that he was still there with her. The comfort that came with having her back in his arms? That was just a bonus.

#chicago pd #jay halstead whump #jay halstead #will halstead #mouse #greg gerwitz #3x01 fix-it

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neotericbitch · 6 years

Text

put it back

more of that one fic, as seen here and there

In their lab, the hooded Necromancer touches Valkyrie’s shoulder, right where her injury that facilitated Abyssinia’s return had been. They and their assistants do some magical hand-waving, Abyssinia’s Vita observing the process at Abyssinia’s side - he’d like to be further away from Valkyrie, but the view from the door is taken. When it seems the job is done, one of the Necromancers sticks one of their knuckles into a wound visible from where Valkyrie’s shirt is opened, and while she tenses and whimpers in pain, everyone else’s eyes are on Abyssinia.

“Nothing,” she says.

“Success,” says the head Necromancer, once a cleric of some kind. “And now we must make it so you only have more, my lady.”

Abyssinia specifically chose a tower room for Valkyrie to stay in, right at the top of the tallest and most winding of the staircases in the place. The one barred window has the perfect view of the lands that stretch out beyond the fortress, currently occupied by troops of all kinds. After a negligible once-over and unenthused bandaging - but no magical healing - the Vita clears Valkyrie to make the climb.

“You can wash yourself and your clothes with in your room,” Abyssinia tells her, smiling. “Don’t worry, Valkyrie. You’ll be looked after here.”

“I’d rather be anywhere else in the world,” murmurs Valkyrie.

“You been everywhere else in the world! It’ll grow on you. Trust me.”

Valkyrie does not, but she says nothing more as she is escorted out and away to where she needs to be. Her cuffs are not bound, neither should her room have any binding sigils anywhere in it - Abyssinia claims to want to keep a magic-positive environment - but she doesn’t think she could make anything happen if she tried. Not that she hasn’t kept some practice. It’s just been difficult for her to find time.

Perhaps, in her new life as a POW, she can make some.

Cadaverous Gant makes it halfway up the stairs before he caves in and starts talking. “If I weren’t bound by Abyssinia’s will,” he says, “I’d kill you. I would.”

It’s only now that Valkyrie recognises him. Up until now, she had thought he was another young Neoteric lackey. Seems that Abyssinia has made good on her promise to him.

Acutely aware of the man who has been her shadow since her arrival, Valkyrie must admit that Abyssinia has made good on a lot of her promises.

“When the time is right,” Cadaverous continues, “she will make the right decision. I have faith. In fact, I’m certain she’s only waiting for her next scheduled appearance on the Global Link. She’ll behead you for all to see.”

Valkyrie considers this. “Good.”

This isn’t the response Cadaverous was hoping for, and so he goes quiet again. Valkyrie feels the bandages wrapped around her waist becoming more loose with each step she climbs, and her face hurts no matter how still she tries to keep it. Her arms and neck and back are aching. Her legs are sore from running, all the running she’s been doing these past months.

She’d tried everything she could to get herself out, starting the very day it became clear that she couldn’t stay in the magical world. She’d run away a week and three days before Abyssinia announced her attack on the Irish Sanctuary. But even the mortal world isn’t safe, neither did it want to have her in it, and now here she is back in Ireland, all her hard work undone, no better off than the moment she lost Skulduggery.

She’s tired, so tired. There’s nothing left for her to do at this point except die - and after all the time spend trying to deal with her suicidal ideation, Valkyrie can’t say she’s terribly eager to get back into it. She sank five years into silently willing herself to death and that got her nowhere. Best to just...live. Even in a situation like this. Take it one day at a time. Whatever happens will happen.

Fuck that.

Valkyrie veers off the stairs, but she gets caught so quickly by the arm that her stomach barely has time to lurch. He must have been keeping this possibility in the back of his mind, which explains why he’s been following her, watching from the moment she first hit the ground. As she gets pulled back up on her feet, Valkyrie wonders what else he’s keeping back there.

The I’ll take this from here vibe radiates off Vile much like the shadows do, and Cadaverous makes his grumbling way back down the stairs, all that legwork for naught. Valkyrie doesn’t look at either of them, just up at the several minutes worth left of staircase until her door. When Cadaverous’ footsteps are nothing but distant patterings, the break is over and Vile nudges Valkyrie to get her moving.

“I can’t,” she says. “I’m done.”

He nudges her again.

“This has been the longest and worst day I’ve had since I left. I’m beaten half to death. I just made the world’s most pathetic suicide attempt. There’s ten dozen stairs in between me and where I can lie down. I’m done.” To fully express this, Valkyrie goes up one more step and sits down, groaning at all the loud cracking noises her body makes. “You’ll have to drag me.”

Vile sighs - the kind of sigh that her younger self would have taken great delight in, she’s pretty sure, because she did once love annoying Skulduggery. That sigh was once a bit like a win, but Valkyrie doesn’t feel particularly victorious now, not even when Vile picks her up and flies the remainder of the stairs. No, it’s not a win at all.

Her cuffs click open at the door and she throws them behind her, down into the abyss especially chosen to lie outside her quarters. The door is thick wood, though definitely the kind that she can kick through. The lock is stronger. The floor and walls within are no different to the rest of the tower, that cold stone that Valkyrie bets she could crack her skull open on if she tries hard enough. The bed is tiny, she’ll have to fold herself over to fit. And there’s a washing machine in the corner. A washing machine, she can’t fucking believe it. Well - Abyssinia makes good on her promises, after all. It doesn’t feel much like a luxury, but it’s the only one for miles.

Valkyrie doesn’t doubt she’ll be locked in here until she’s needed again. She wants to crawl onto that pathetic little bed and bleed out.

She goes over to neatly placed first aid kit on the washing machine instead, undoing the buttons on her shirt as she goes.

“I’m still here.”

“Good.” Valkyrie has no time to be surprised or even momentarily set back by a notoriously quiet fellow. “Make yourself useful.”

She throws the shirt in the machine and measures a cap of liquid. The bandages around her waist slip bloody and sodden down her legs. She has other wounds aside from that huge gash in her side, though none quite as pressing, nor covered. Her open injuries reside primarily on her top half, so the pants stay on, the right leg only rolled up a minute so she can slap a cheap bandaid on her knee.

The box probably won’t last her very long. She sticks more bandaids all over her, on the smaller cuts and scrapes mostly awarded while tumbling down a wooded hill, in a last ditch effort to escape capture. It was a lucky break, not far from the fortress, and completely wasted on her after waking up from her drugged-out flight. Certain movements make her hiss in pain - like putting one arm up over her head so she can get a clear look down at her ribs - so there’s no doubt there’ll be bruises on her bones as well as her skin, but at least nothing appears to be broken.

Valkyrie sits down on the bed - which on top of being tiny, is much too close to the floor - and prepares to rewrap her waist...then stops. She lies back and stares at the stone ceiling instead.

Vile finally moves from his spot and comes over, takes hold of her free hand first, then the one holding the roll of bandaging, and pulls Valkyrie back up on her feet.

She groans. “I’ve had enough.”

Vile hums softly in response. He takes the roll from her and winds it around the gash, mostly dried up now but painful all the same. His armour is colder than the stone, and Valkyrie’s skin has goosebumps and every hair on her body stands on end. She’d like to tear it off him piece by piece. She’d like to be warmed by a fire. Burnt at the stake, maybe.

When he withdraws his hands and the bandages are done up tighter than she could ever accomplish herself, Valkyrie gets back on the bed and assumes the foetal position, despite how much it hurts, and tries not to shiver. Vile just stands there, looking down at her.

“I've missed you.”

“You're a lot more chatty than I remember.”

“I've also missed talking.”

Valkyrie shuffles to the edge of the bed as best she can and pats the free space she made. Obligingly, Vile sits, and is very clearly taken aback by the height of the bed as well. She likes that, and smiles. His shadows wrap over her like a blanket.

“I didn't expect you to run,” says Vile after a minute’s silence. “I thought we’d built a rapport.”

“What, when? The Ball? Yeah, well, I wasn't much in the mood to reminisce about a dip when you burst out of your bones. Forgive me for thinking it wasn't safe, I don't know what would have given me,” as she talks, Vile puts his hand over hers, “that...idea. Not like your girlfriend was right there or anything, doing her spooky magic.”

“I meant with me. Skulduggery. I'm in control.”

“Oh yeah? Take off the armour.”

“I can't. Not now.”

Valkyrie shifts and shuffles up, sitting with her back against the wooden excuse for a headboard. He looks at her, right in the eyes. It's one of those things she can tell he's doing. If she couldn't tell after all this time, what could she do?

Sixteen years is a long time.

“You can't be fully trusted while you're wearing it.”

“Oh, Valkyrie…”

She shakes off the warmth hearing him say her name brings. “You're Lord Vile, crown Death Bringer, death sentence incarnate. I'm sure you've done loads of killing this past year. Do you know how much killing I've done? None.”

“Ten months. I spent longer with the Faceless Ones.”

“What have you done in that time? Did you plan on just standing back and watching Abyssinia take over the world?”

The helmet shifts away from her. “There's no way to end this easily, no way that I can see. Her followers won't go down without a fight, and making her a martyr would only put more fuel on the fire. I've been standing back and watching, yes, and waiting. Waiting for something that could help.” He lets that hang a moment. “I was waiting for you.”

Her heart lurches.

“And I've killed her twice already, Valkyrie. I'm never alone in a room with her. At least five people have to watch me with her.”

“Aw, you could kill five people in one go.”

Vile leans back. “Barely a minute ago you were chastising me for murders you don't even know I've done.”

Valkyrie doesn't have a response to that one, just a kind of sad smile directed at the barred window. “You sound so much like yourself.”

“Valkyrie, this is nothing more than a disguise. A façade, if you will. My demons are conquered, I only have to look like them for the time being. Either I'm here in armour or in chains.”

“Like me.”

For a minute, all either of them can hear is the washing machine. The door to the room is closed. Valkyrie hadn't noticed it shut, but she supposes it was a quiet job done by a tendril of a shadow.

“You watched,” she goes on. “You watched her fling me around like a rag doll.”

“It was taking everything out of me to stop myself from stepping in.” He's getting convincing now, as he leans in close to her. “Valkyrie, I spent every moment in that courtyard wanting nothing more than to take you away. I want to take you away now. If running is what you want to do, I'll run with you. Every day I've thought of…” He trails off. “Valkyrie?”

She forgets she doesn't have a sleeve and wipes her tears on her forearm. These aren't big messy tears, not accompanied by snot or sobs, these tears kind of remind Valkyrie of the ones you only ever see in romantic movies, where everyone is beautiful all the time, even when they're devastated. Though, she wouldn't quite describe herself as beautiful at the moment, battered up the way she is. Totally wrecked.

That's a good way to put it. She's a wreck.

“Valkyrie.”

“Take off the armour.”

He hesitates.

She covers her face with her hands for a moment, drags her palms down her cheeks and takes a breath. “You'd have given up a lie by now. I know who you are. I just need to see you.”

“Abyssinia did something.”

The washing machine finishes its cycle and powers down. Valkyrie would much rather deal with it than sit and consider all that could be wrung out of Abyssinia did something. Better to wring the water out of a shirt. She pulls it out of the machine.

“That's mine,” he says.

Put it back put it back put it back.

“Somehow got in my go bag.”

Valkyrie remembers the day she very deliberately and specifically chose one of Skulduggery’s shirts to put in that bag. The go bag was first formed in Colorado when it became apparent that she had to be ready to uproot again at any moment, stuffed with clothes and cash and a bottle of water. Sometimes, after returning to Ireland, she would get it out of its place at the back of the wardrobe, and just stand and stare at it. Sometimes she would sit with it on her lap.

When Abyssinia was resurrected, she started keeping it in her car.

Like the animal she is, Valkyrie wrings the shirt out onto the stone and whips it against her legs a couple of times. It's still dripping and stuck together as she tries to shove one of her arms through the wrong sleeve.

“For the love of god.”

Using Elemental magic like he's trying extra hard to prove that he's himself, he pulls the shirt off her and over to him, blasts air until it's dry and snaps his fingers to warm it. He offers it to Valkyrie as she comes back over.

She puts it on, doesn't button it. Sits back down on the bed. Skulduggery immediately gets up.

“I'm exhausted,” she says.

“Of course you are.” He turns towards the door. “You rest, then. I'm sure there's somewhere I should--”

“Let me see your face first.” Valkyrie pauses, then laughs. “Head. Skull. You know.”

He doesn't turn back, though his left hand does twitch. She knows this stance, one of deep conflict, intense consideration and anxiety, but that twitch is new.

“I'll come back tonight,” says Skulduggery, then shadow-walks out of the room.

#skulduggery pleasant

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