#ive spent hours on each of these wheres my raise

[freebooter4ever]

Hi I wonder

If/when you finish Geno’s sculpture will you be able to program it to move? Like animation?

I’m not familiar with 3d modeling

this is a very good question, actually! cause the easy answer is yes, absolutely. the more complicated answer is that the topology i've modeled is optimized for sculpture rather than animation, so to turn it into an animated character and get clean movement i would have to make some modifications around the sections that deform the most (shoulders, elbows, knees, etc). brief lunchtime course in topology under the cut :)

the topology or 'wireframe' of a character represents the polygons. and each polygon is defined by vertices which are the actual coordinates stored in the computer that tells it to render these objects!

on the left is the sculpt that im working on, and on the right is the 'smoothed' version where the computer calculates a curved spline between points instead of a flat polygon (with certain specific case like where i've told it to 'crease' edges which will keep the sharp polygon line).

My goal in this sculpt (like the skate and the helmet and the gear) was to keep polycount as low as possible to give myself the cleanest lines in a way similar to how i process drawings. This means i have large shapes with as few polygons as i can get away with, so there's certain areas that have very very few polygons entirely. The biggest example of this is the back and the shoulder/arm connection:

if i were topologizing this for animation the 'wireframe' lines would be concentrated where deformation happens. So when I raise the arm the shoulder would have enough geo to stay defined and smooth instead of stretching. right now if i bent his elbow it would cause this problem. luckily, im only planning to bend his elbow for a few poses in a final sculpt - so when i finish with the pose i will go back in and add whatever extra geo is necessary.

anyway the purpose of my sculpting with as little polygons as i can is to keep the silhouette as well as keeping it as clean as possible so that it'll look good in toon shaders. (you can see the 'active points' is under 4k' in the corner there)

the best example i have of this is the face which is absolutely not done so dont judge me but its finally at a point where it doesnt look too terrifying:

on the right is the quick sculpt i did just to get a feel for his face in 3D - this was done with clay sculpting and you can see even though i used the hard surface brush its made up of millions of little vertices so doesn't have that 'clean' look. the goal is to make the gray spaces between as flat as possible to make that toon 2D look in 3D. :)

my face topology is based off which lines i want to 'show' as my 'drawing' lines and wouldn't necessarily result in good animation. geno's lips are driving me crazy - i have so many photos and still they aren't good enough. there's that bow shape on his bottom lip that i'm trying to recreate in geo and its slow going. i take a break from whatever apps or shit im working on, tinker with his lip shape for a half hour, and then go back to working lol.

here's an example of a hard surface object which doesn't deform (because if a helmet squishes thats....thats probably a very bad sign for the player) and so can be as high res as i want it to be to get the level of detail i want:

why am i doing all this? i dunno im crazy. sometime in october a character artist from a big name studio told me my portfolio needed to reflect their 'style' more if i wanted to be hired there and my reaction was well fuck this im figuring out what my OWN style looks like in 3D. probably not the smartest career move. (ive spent 10 years in this industry and i have been a chameleon the entire time blending into everyone else's style. if im spending my own money on this i want it to be mine)

but, going back to the original question, my vision back in october was a beauty sculpt of geno in some action shot - on the ice with the puck or celly. and the sculpt would be crisp and clean and lit with sharp angular lights like how i draw (getting his cheekbone right is a must and makes me cry). and on a turntable. so thats the goal, no animation necessary, and its looking like i might get there in the next month. :)

the, uh, torso sculpt is cause i want to do an extra pose of him looking sexy in his locker stall with his armor gear and shit (pants ON though, you can see i have not sculpted past the waist :P). thats just for me lmao.

#jrnlsht

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #baby spence #mgg #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

[entishramblings]

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Legolas Tag: @dark-angel-is-back

If you wanna be in the tag list lmk

#lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit #legolas #Legolas x reader #legolas one shot #legolas one shots #legolas imagines #legolas drabble #Legolas fanfic #Legolas fanfiction #LOTR fanfiction #LOTR fanfic #elves #mirkwood #Greenwood #fanfiction #writers #vayawrites #Thranduil #morgoth #sauron #tolkien #Legolas x you #Legolas x (y/n)

[nyctophilin]

Fake Affection | III

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mild groping, mild violence

Pearl note -> This got long. Yeah, things got interesting in this part. :)) Also, I realized I forgot to add something so I had to come back last minute and edit it. Yeah, sorry for the delay. :/ I hope y’all enjoy it! Feedback is very much appreciated.

      The sun was shining brightly despite it being almost 6 PM. The temperature outside reached unusually high numbers for that time of the year, and Y/N decided to take advantage of that. Dressed in a forest green spring dress that reached her mid-thighs and offered a modest view of her cleavage, she was waiting for Jisung in front of her apartment complex. The dress she was wearing had short sleeves, but she decided not to take any jackets with her thanks to the weather forecast that predicted the temperatures to be high until later in the night.

      She was clutching the strap of her purse tightly and impatiently checking the time on her phone every few minutes. It has been such a long time since she went on a date. Just because she was going there to make Mina jealous didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun. What better way to convince the other girl that she missed on a lot of fun than have fun?

      Coming from the left side, she heard the sound of an engine approaching. Soon, a black Range Rover came to a gradual stop right in front of her, the front wheel almost climbing the sidewalk. From inside the car, Jisung gestured her to get in. She opened the door and climbed in, placing her purse over her knees before fastening her seatbelt.

      Without much of a word, Jisung turned the steering wheel and started driving to a destination unknown to Y/N.

      “I didn’t know you had a car.” She spoke, trying to get rid of the awkward atmosphere.

      Jisung threw her a look before concentrating on the road again.

      “It’s Chan’s. He let me borrow it for today.” A long sigh left his mouth. “After a long talk where he told me that if I hurt his baby, I’m dead.”

      Y/N let out a chuckle, and Jisung smiled as well, as the memory of the silly conversation he had with the older man flooded his mind. Another minute passed, and the silence in the car was being filled by the pop music coming from the radio.

      “You look pretty!” Jisung complimented, stealing another glance at her.

      A bright smile invaded her facial features at his words. 

      “Thank you! I didn’t know where we were going, but I figured a dress would be appropriate for many activities.” She chirped, the tiniest bit of excitement rolling off her tongue.

      “What if we are going hiking?” Jisung said, and a smirk appeared on his face when he noticed her rolling her eyes from the corner of his eye.

      “Then you can turn the car. I’m not coming!” Y/N crossed her hands under her chest and her mouth formed into a small pout.

      “I’m joking. We are going to an outdoor cinema.”

      She gave him a side look and raised an eyebrow.

      “No offence, but how do you know when outdoor cinemas are happening? They don’t seem…” She eyes him up and down on the driver’s seat. “...your style.”

      Jisung resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her comment. After a moment of silence, he sighed silently accepting her words.

      “Mina told me about it three weeks ago. She said it was a rom-com she really wanted to see. We planned to go together.” He explained taking a right turn.

      “Then how do you know if she’s going to come if you planned to go together. I don’t know if you realised, but you are supposed to be dating me, and she’s dating no one. Girls don’t usually go to this kind of thing without a boyfriend or a potential one.”

      “There’s this guy from Theatre and Film that she used to hook up with when I wasn’t around. I know from someone that they are coming together.” 

      Y/N let a pitiful smile involuntarily invade her features. It was kind of pathetic how he knew about her whereabouts and still didn’t say anything. She understood that they weren’t together, but they were heavily flirting and behaving like a couple, hence why she and a lot of other people thought they were actually in a relationship.

      She let her teeth sink in the flesh of her bottom lip holding back from telling him a piece of her mind. He was old enough. He knew what he was doing. Or at least she hoped he did.

      The rest of the way to the outdoor cinema was spent in silence. The only audible sounds being the radio and Jisung’s soft humming from time to time. When they reached, their destination Y/N got out of the car and let Jisung find a parking spot somewhere further away from the location of the cinema due to the parking there overflowing with vehicles.

      Checking her phone, she noticed the time indicating 7:17 PM, and only then she realised how much time they spent in the car. Walking lazily on the pathway to where space was designated for blankets and chairs she saw a sea of people. Maybe not really a sea but there were enough people to fill two of the auditorium in their university.

      For a second she thought she'd lay out the blanket, but then she remembered the only thing she had on her was her purse. On top of that, they needed to ‘accidentally’ bump into Mina and her date and hope they end up sitting next to each other.

      Just as she was thinking about that a squeal deafened her and a pair of delicate arms wrapped around her. When the girl let go of her, and she met Mina’s face, she grimaced, but she regained her composure fast. She smiled at her and her date, a guy she had seen occasionally in some of her classes.

      “What a coincidence you are here!” Mina’s fake excitement was pissing her off. Coincidence her ass. Y/N was sure she knew they were going to be there.

      “Yeah, what a small world.” She gave the two a visibly fake smile and prayed for Jisung to hurry.

      “Are you alone?” The girl asked, moving her head in different directions as if she was looking for the person she came with.

      “No. I actually came with Jisung.” As if on cue Jisung appeared from behind the two, a blanket in hand.

      “Are you looking for me, princess?” A jolt of surprise went through her at the new nickname he used, but she didn’t let it show.

      Observing the angry expression on Mina’s face at his words, she figured that was how he used to call her before they broke up whatever they had going on. She surpassed a smirk from painting her lips.

      “Mhhm.” She extended her hand, which he gladly held and went in for a short kiss. “Look who I found. Isn’t it lovely seeing your friends here?” She sarcastically said, smiling up at him.

      “You guys should come sit with us!” Mina’s date said, and a victorious smile spread across her face.

      “We’ll love to if that is okay with Mina, of course. We wouldn’t wanna disrupt you!” Y/N faked concern and gave Mina doe eyes.

      Mina’s jaw slightly clenched before immediately relaxing and letting out a forced giggle.

      “Of course you can. Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

      After that, the four of them went and found a place at the back of the crowd where they could sit. It wasn’t exactly the back of the crowd since there were some more people behind them, but they were reasonably behind. 

      Jisung spread the blanket on the fluffy grass, and Mina’s date, whose name she found out was Jay, did the same as Jisung. Their blankets were almost touching, the distance between them millimetric. 

      There were still 20 minutes before the movie was supposed to start. They sat down on the blankets, and Y/N stretched her legs, finally relaxing for not having to stand on the platform shoes she was wearing.

      “So, are you guys dating or…” Jay asked, fixing his body position so he could see them better.

      Y/N rolled her eyes at his question. The guy wasn’t the best at reading the room.

      “Of course we are. Why would we be here together if we weren’t?” Annoyance was dripping off her tongue. She only wanted to relax for a bit before having to spend two hours watching some boring rom-com.

      “Oh…” His voice sounded almost disappointed as his gaze lingered a second too long on her exposed legs. “Mina and I are not a couple. And since she and Jisung have had a thing before, I thought...” He bit his bottom lip while looking at her thighs that were pretty much bare thanks to her dress riding up when she sat down. “Never mind!” 

      Y/N shifted uncomfortably and placed her hands on her thighs in an attempt to cover them even a little. Mina wasn’t aware of her date’s actions as her eyes were concentrated on Jisung and on the way he looked under the golden rays of the sun that was preparing to set.

      Jisung, however, was burning holes with his eyes into the other man’s head. Upon seeing him biting his lip while looking at Y/N in a less than appropriate way, he felt an unexplainable feeling of rage penetrate his body. What he wanted to do at that moment was to get up and punch that pig into next week for daring to look at her like that. But he kept his composure and decided not to make a big deal out of it. 

      There was literally no reason for him to get that angry. Besides the apparent reason that it made her uncomfortable and he shouldn’t allow something like that, especially when he is playing her boyfriend. But the sudden feeling to rip his head off filled him with turmoil.

      Jisung decided to ignore it for now, and he took his jacket off and placed it over her legs. Her head shot in his direction, confusion and at the same time relief present in her eyes.

      “What is that?” She asked, trying to act unaffected by Jay’s actions.

      “I just thought you might sit more comfortably with this over your legs. It stops unwanted attention.” He subtly glared at Jay, but he didn’t seem to pay him any mind as his eyes were now fixed on Mina’s chest.

      “Thank you!” She said, bringing the jacket further up to cover her thighs better.

      Jisung inched just a little bit closer to her and cupped her face. Placing his lips on hers, he forcefully pushed his tongue in her mouth, taking her by surprise. He made sure their heads were positioned in such a way that the two on the blanket next to them will be able to see the exchange of their mouths. 

      Mina was watching Jisung drag his tongue inside Y/N’s mouth, his eyes closed in satisfaction. The exchange wasn’t rushed, and the way his thumb would caress her cheek so gently had her bursting with jealousy. Jisung had never kissed her like that. Their kisses were always rushed and sloppy, driven by sexual needs.

      When she first heard about their little relationship, she laughed. She thought it was some kind of stupid joke. But then she saw how they behaved. The kisses, the hugs, the hand holding, how he would always have a hand around her shoulders. In the three days, they dated he showed Y/N more love than he showed her in a year and a half.

      Her initial plan was to tease him a little bit, then finally accept to be his girlfriend. She didn’t think he'd go and find himself a girlfriend. And especially not her. From all the people he could choose it had to be her. Looking at them now, Mina regretted her decision.

      Jisung broke the kiss and looked into her fluttering eyes before placing a peck on her nose. Y/N was sitting there dizzy from everything that happened. His sudden boldness left her speechless and burning hot from the embarrassment of being seen doing something like that.

      She wanted to question him. Ask him why he suddenly did something like that. However, a loud sound erupted from the speakers surrounding them, signaling the start of the movie. So she focused her vision on the big cloth in front of her and decided to ignore it.

      She shivered discreetly as a wave of cold hit her body. The movie was only half done, and with the midnight approaching slowly, a chilly air adorned their surroundings. The weather forecast predicted high temperatures, but at that moment she was far away from her city, and so the weather was different.

      Y/N rubbed one of her arms with her hand, regretting not taking a jacket with her just in case something like that was to happen. From the corner of his eye, Jisung noticed her actions, and he leaned in close to her to whisper in her ear.

      “Hey, are you ok?” His hot breath on her ear made the hair at the back of her neck stand up.

      “Yeah, I’m just a little bit cold. I’ll be fine!” She whispered back giving him reassuring eyes.

      Jisung thought for a second of what he could do. He didn’t have another jacket, and he didn’t want her to uncover her legs. At least not when Jay was around. An idea finally struck him, and he softly called her name, catching her attention again.

      When she turned to look at him, he tapped the space between his spread legs. Y/N raised an eyebrow at his gesture.

      “What does that mean?” She sounded a little bit annoyed.

      “Come sit here. I’ll cuddle you so you won’t be cold anymore.” Y/N threw him a weirded out look. “We are ‘dating’. No one will find it weird. Or you could just stay there and freeze to death.” The man explained his voice a little bit louder than before.

      She pondered his offer for a bit before getting up and making her way between his legs. She let herself fall backwards until her back hit his chest softly. Jisung put his arms around her, and warmth started enveloping her almost instantly. Y/N let out a purr at the newfound comfort, and her eyes shot open at the realisation of what she just did.

      “Hey, don’t get too comfortable, you hear me? I’m doing this just because Mina might be watching.” She warned, her voice stern hoping he missed her last action.

      Jisung rolled his eyes but decided not to bring up the sound she just let out. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the newfound proximity. Only so they can make Mina jealous. Right?

      They sat like that, none of them daring to move. For some reason, Jisung found the position really comfortable. A few days prior at the start of their relationship he found skinship really awkward but now it wasn’t like that anymore. It felt almost natural. Like they have been doing it for a long time.

      Some more time passed, but Jisung wasn’t sure how much. The movie was approaching its climax, and the man felt bored out of his mind. Was it really worth going through that only to get his dick wet? But then he remembered who he was doing it for. He was doing it so he and Mina, the girl who he has been in love with for the longest time, could finally be together. And when it happens, he will be able to slide his hand through her silky hair, and feel her smooth skin and kiss her soft lips without having to call it a friendly gesture.

      His trail of thoughts was interrupted by a quiet mumbling coming from Y/N. Her voice was so small that Jisung couldn’t hear her.

      “What?” He leaned his head down in order to hear her when she talks.

      For a minute, there was silence. Thinking that she didn’t hear him, Jisung wanted to repeat the question when a puff of air left her mouth. Right after, she turned slightly to the side, pushing her head more against his chest, and that is when he realised that she fell asleep.

      An involuntary smile tugged at his lips, and his heart started beating faster. He couldn’t explain why he was so happy about it. It was going to be a pain in the ass. Having to wake her up and wait for her to recover from her dazed form. They were going to be the last ones to leave after the movie was over.

      A whistle-like noise left Y/N’s nose when she expired the cold air of the night, and his smile turned into a grin. Jisung moved a few strands of hair from her face before wrapping his hands better around her to keep her warm. He placed a kiss on top of her head and rested his chin on her head, swaying slightly while continuing to watch the movie.

      If you were to ask Mina what has happened so far in the movie, she couldn’t give you an answer. As much as she wanted to see the film, the girl’s eyes seemed to be more interested in whatever was happening on the blanket on her left. 

      She watched as they were cuddling and whispering to each other things she couldn’t hear. Then Y/N fell asleep, and Jisung seemed to be even more loving, hugging her even tighter and kissing her. She was wondering if he has ever done that to her on the many nights they shared a bed.

      Mina never thought she would be that affected by the fact that Jisung has found himself a girlfriend. After all, he was just one of the many boys she was hooking up with. She never thought she would have feelings for him, but here she was, being jealous of the last person she ever thought she would.

      She had to somehow get the boy back. She wanted to see it as a challenge, but she couldn’t. It had barely been two weeks since they ‘broke up’ and scarcely four days since he started dating that perfect little missy. Love doesn’t fade away that fast. She’ll have him back in no time.

      Y/N felt someone shaking her arm gently, and she mumbled some incoherent words, pushing the hand away. She was sleeping so well, she didn’t want to wake up. A hand pushed a hair strand that was ticking her nose out of the way before grabbing her shoulder and shaking it again. She groaned in annoyance.

      “Wake up, Y/N! You have to go home. Unless you want me to take you to my place.” Someone whispered close to her face, and her eyes fluttered open, trying to make up her surroundings.

      The first thing she saw when she finally managed to blink the sleep away was Jisung’s smirking face. God, he was so annoying. Ignoring him and looking around, she noticed she was in his parked car in front of her apartment complex. She vaguely remembered falling asleep, but she doesn’t remember waking up to get to the car.

      “How did I get here? Did you wake me up?” Y/N asked, straightening her body and inhaling the cold air of the night.

      Jisung held her hand and helped her out of the car before slamming the door closed. He let her lean against the front door and opened the back door to fish her purse from the back seat.

      “I didn’t. You were way too cute when you shut up. Like a little obedient kitty. I had to enjoy the moment a little bit longer.” He teased, putting a hand around her waist and making their way to the entrance in the complex.

      Y/N scoffed at his childish remark but decided to ignore it. She didn’t have the necessary energy to argue with him.

      “So you carried me to the car? What about the blanket and the other stuff you had there? Did you go back for them?”

      “No, I had Jay get them for me, so I don’t wake you up.” 

      Stopping in front of the elevator, Jisung pushed the button, and they waited a few seconds for the doors to open. Stepping inside, Y/N pushed the button for the third floor before leaning back against Jisung.

      “Talking about Jay. Thank you for today!” The man threw her a questioning look, acting as nonchalant as he could.

      “What do you mean?”

      “Don’t act dumb! I know you didn’t give me your jacket just because you are nice like that. You saw how he looked at me.” She wanted to sound more aggressive, but her voice came out soft and calm since she was still sleepy.

      Jisung found that adorable but surpassed a smile. Adopting a disinterested expression, he spoke.

      “He did? I didn’t notice. I just thought that, as your boyfriend, I shouldn’t let everyone see your underwear.” Y/N punched him in the stomach lightly, and Jisung dramatically bent down, letting out a fake grunt.

      “You are such an asshole!”

      A loud ding echoed in the restricted space, and the doors opened, revealing the dirty wall of the third floor. They stepped out of the elevator and slowly walked down the hallway to where Y/N’s apartment door was. Taking her purse from Jisung’s hand and finding her keys, she unlocked the door and opened it.

      She leaned against the door frame and looked up at Jisung, giving him a bright smile.

      “I'd like to say that I had fun, but I fell asleep halfway through the date.” She giggled, trying to mask her embarrassment. “But it was nice getting out of the house. Thank you for today!”

      The man put his hands in his jean’s pockets and scoffed.

      “You are lucky Mina got upset by you sleeping on me. Otherwise, I would have gotten angry. My shoulders are so stiff from having to support your weight. I might not recover for a few days.” A fake pained groan left his throat, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

      Lifting herself on her tiptoes, she placed one hand on his shoulder and brought his head lower. She connected her lips with his in a short kiss. Breaking the kiss, she stepped inside her apartment and kept the door open enough for her head to be visible.

      “See you on Monday!” With that, she closed the door all the way and made her way into her bedroom.

      She wasn’t sure what was the time, but it must have been well past 11 PM. Taking off the dress, she discarded it on the floor before grabbing the oversized t-shirt from the back of the desk chair. She put it on and threw herself on the bed, letting the sheets envelop her body before falling asleep.

      Y/N’s eyes shot open, and her mouth fell open as the realisation of what she did only moments prior sank in. Putting the back of her hand over her forehead and exhaling deeply, her eyes closed and her brows furrowed. Why did she kiss him? She’ll never interact with anyone while she’s still drunk on sleep.

      Meanwhile, Jisung that just exited the complex couldn’t contain his smile. He couldn’t understand why that was happening. They kissed before to make Mina jealous. But maybe that was precisely the reasons such an insignificant gesture brought him so much joy. Mina was nowhere near. A spark erupted in his stomach at the thought that the girl might have a crush on him.

      “Do it again! With more love this time. Come on. You want me! You desire me!” Y/N ordered to Jeongin.

      The man let out a frustrated groan, using the script to cover his eyes from the brightness of the sun.

      Both of them, Hyunjin and Jisung, were outside, in front of the university. They had a free period and decided to practice the script for the short movie they were playing in. Hyunjin, although not part of the film itself, was always with them thanks to Mrs. Bae’s affinity towards him. 

      Jisung, however, was new in the picture. Ever since they went on that date a week and a half ago, he seemed to be spending more time with her. She felt mildly suffocated by that but decided not to question it. As long as he wasn’t distracting her from her usual activities, she didn’t mind him tagging along.

      “You don’t make desiring you really easy. We’ve done it four times already. We will start filming in three months. I don't have to be perfect right now!” Jeongin exclaimed letting his body fall on the bench on which Jisung and Hyunjin were seated.

      “Hey! Be careful of what you say. My girlfriend is very, much desirable!” Jisung said in a jokingly offended tone earning disgusted groans from the other two men.

      “Really dude? I could have lived my life without knowing that information.” Jeongin started fanning himself with the script. It was a sweltering day.

      “I don’t understand why you are here. You are only four-wheeling us.” Hyunjin remarked, earning himself a dirty look from Jisung.

      “A car needs all four wheels to be functional.”

      “Yeah, babe, but we are a tricycle.”

      Hyunjin, Jeongin and Y/N erupted into laughter at Jisung’s dumbfounded expression. From behind Y/N, they heard even louder laughter and Hyunjin scoffed at the scene unfolding under his eyes. 

      “I swear to God! Mina has been so annoying lately. Much more than when she used to hang out with Jisung. It’s as if she’s following us around.” The man rolled his eyes as he remembered how many times Mina ‘coincidentally’ happened to be in the same place as them the past week.

      “Tell me about it. And how she is always with Jay from our major. If I wanted to watch live porn, I would have signed up on one of those porn sites.” Jeongin seemed as annoyed as the other man.

      “Don’t stress about that guys. I’m pretty sure these are just coincidences.” Y/N tried telling them, even though she knew everything they said was right.

      “No, I’m pretty sure they are not. There’s someone between us whose attention she’s trying to catch.” Hyunjin gave Jisung a side look.

      “You can’t be sure of that.” She played dumb, wanting more than anything to change the subject.

      “ Oh, please! She’s always watching him. In the cafeteria, when we are hanging around on our free periods, when she’s kissing that loser. It’s like he’s a good movie she can’t tear her eyes from.” Jeongin snapped, tired of the whole situation.

      “Then let’s give them something to look at!” Jisung smirked smugly.

      “What do..”

      In the next second, Y/N has been pulled on Jisungs lap, and he captured her lips in an urgent kiss. One hand was on the nape of her head forcefully holding her in the kiss, and the other one was on her ass cheek, squeezing it. 

      She heard someone awkwardly clearing their throat from her right, and all her senses heightened. Y/N placed her hands on Jisung’s shoulders and tried lightly pushing him away while uncomfortably shifting in his lap. As a response, the man groaned lowly and slid his hand from her neck to her chest, cupping it.

      Her eyes widened in shock at his action and mustering all the force she had in her, she pushed him away, finally breaking the kiss. A loud bang ringed around them as her hand made contact with his cheek. Jumping off his lap, she gathered her bag from the leg of the bench.

      “You are a fucking asshole!” She shouted in his face before storming off inside the university.

      The stomping of her boots was echoing in the empty halls, and the few students that were around decided to make her space to pass. Her thinking was clogged at the moment, and all she could feel was rage and shame. She was angrily making her way down the halls, but her destination was uncertain. She just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

      Y/N heard quick steps from behind her, and a hand pulled at her shoulder. Without turning around, she shrugged it off and started walking faster. The person behind her also increased their walking speed, but this time around, they grabbed her wrist.

      Just as she was preparing to scream in their face, she was pulled into a hug, her face forced into a firm chest. Y/N felt herself calm down as the smell of a cologne she grew accustomed to in the last week invaded her lungs. His hand was gently rubbing her back, and she relaxed under her touch.

      “Are you okay?” Hyunjin whispered softly in her ear.

      She hid her face more in his chest, feeling shame overcome her.

      “I’m sorry you had to see that. I swear it’s not what you think! We’ve never…” Her voice was shaky, as if she was about to cry. Hyunjin cupped her face forcing her to look in his eyes. She could see concern and sadness hiding behind his brown orbs.

      “Why are you apologising to me? You are the one who’s been wronged here. I just wanna make sure you are okay.” His soft voice was acting as a calmative for her racing heartbeat.

      Y/N felt her insides flip at his caring words. His hands on her cheeks were hot, and she decided to blame them for the blush that acaparated her face.

      “Hey! Step away from my girlfriend, you motherfucker!” Jisung’s voice filled her ears, and she saw Hyunjin roll his eyes.

      The warmth of his body left her, and he crossed his arms as Jisung finally arrived in front of them. Hyunjin was looking down at the other man, and both their expressions were filled with anger.

      “I was just making sure she’s fine. It looks like you took your time deciding to do the same.” The taller man spat venom dripping off his tongue.

      “It’s none of your business how I handle my relationship!” Jisung adopted a louder tone bringing his face closer to Hyunjin’s.

      “But it is when you decide to act like a bitch in heat and make your girlfriend uncomfortable. This is why Mina never dated you and why you and Y/N won’t last long!”

      Jisung clenched his jaw upon hearing the other man’s words, and before anyone could register what was happening, he plunged his fist into Hyunjin’s face.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stayverse #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #han #han jisung #han x reader #han jisung x reader #han angst #han jisung angst #han fluff #han jisung fluff #han smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.  

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could  meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies –  and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.  

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

[ladyeliot]

It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense.  That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it. 

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing. 

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided. 

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope. 

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

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[copias-thrall]

Would it be alright to request some Papa IV x f!Reader? Like the reader is a very kind and sweet person and she has always supported Copia kind of thing? Maybe they’re having a whole day to themselves to celebrate?

Yes! Let’s get some more sweet Copia 😊 

They made fun of him and called him The Rat.

Terzo made him the butt of all his pranks.

Nihil undermined him at every turn.

Imperator pushed him to the point of breaking.

What you saw a man trying to do his best with his only flaw being an outsider within the Abbey walls, and in a place where actual hellbeasts were basically demon cats, were rats such an odd choice of pet?

You were fairly certain Copia knew the “Squeak if u like cheze” sign was taped to his back, but he just walked down the corridors anyway and let the Siblings and Ghouls chitter at him. You’d seen this man save one of the Abbey mice from a glue trap, and your heart just couldn’t let it continue.

So, you’d approached him and offered to remove the offending paper.

Copia, however, had just smiled at you.

“It is good of you to say, Sister. But let them have their fun, eh?”

He’d given you a slight bow and had gone on his merry way.

After that, however, Copia had warmed to you, often seeking you out so he could sit with you in the mess hall at mealtimes or chat theology with you on lazy Saturday afternoons.

When some of Terzo’s faction had started stuttering to make fun of Copia’s shyness with public speaking, you’d tried to shut them down. Not everyone was good in front of a crowd—especially when that crowd was hostile. All that did, however, was get them to double down and start calling you, "rat lover."

“Doesn’t it bother you, Cardinal?" you'd asked during one of your food dates. "It’s so…petty.”

But he’d just given you a fond look.

“It is of no consequence, dear Sister. Let them be thinking what they will.”

You’d learned all of his rats’ names and started smuggling them contraband from the kitchens.

Copia had you transferred from Imperator’s admin pool to work as his assistant.

“All this new paperwork!” He’s swept his arm across the stacks of his desk. “I thought I could be using a little help from a friend, yes?”

You’d inherently understood you weren’t there to file paperwork—you were there to tell him when to take a break, to replace his cold coffee, and to be a sounding board.

And you didn’t miss the way Copia’s mismatched eyes would look on you with adoration.

Well, you thought he was pretty neat, too.

When he’d been away on his first tour, you’d done your best to keep up with him. You had your other duties and your friends, but you tried to send him a supportive word before, during, and after each performance.

His missives back had grown fewer as the tour had dragged on, but each one had been effusive—if riddled with typos.

After the first tour, things had been different. Copia had come back from the road a glowing success…and in a tight suit that showed off his assets instead of his smothering cassock.

The tide turned, and while there were still his many detractors, gone were the days of “kick me” signs and farces.

You’d noticed a significant pay increase and an extra day off.

“But Cardinal! You need me here!” you’d protested.

He’d simply grabbed your hands and kissed each one.

“I do. And that is why you must be well-rested. Lots to get done. Now, shoo!”

And truth be told, the two of you had worked harder. Copia had spent less and less time in his study and more time attending meetings or at band practice or at weekend symposiums. You’d done your best on keeping his mountain of paperwork down to a molehill, but sometimes the two of you needed to work late into the night to meet seemingly arbitrary deadlines while you put your foot down and told the kitchen Ghoul that making some rigatoni past hours wasn’t going to kill them.

Of course, then you needed to put your foot down about Copia stopping long enough to eat the carbonara. Sometimes he’d growl at you, and you’d have to snap your fingers at him and tell him being hangry wasn’t a good excuse to be snippy with you; he was predictably contrite after he’d consumed a good portion, and you took his apologies as your due.

All of which is to say: you had Copia’s back from the get-go, and he knew you were always in his corner.

When he comes back from Mexico newly ascended, there are dozens of Siblings who want a piece of him. Some—like you—have been in his fan club since day 1; others jumped on the bandwagon during the final tour; while a few just see the razzle dazzle and want to shine too.

You’re in his study because you want to make sure everything is caught up before he comes back to work. You imagine that he’s going to spend a few days reaping the rewards of his promotion, and—while a part of you feels a little let down about not being a part of that particular party—you are genuinely invested in Copia succeeding.

So when the door bangs open, you’re startled to find Copia…er…Papa Emeritus the 4th striding into the room.

“Oh! Your Dark Excellency! I was just making sure—”

“How did I be knowing I would find you here, eh? Today is not a day to be working!”

“But you—”

He makes a shushing noise and reaches his hands out. They linger in the air between the both of you until he makes a “come here” motion with his fingers.

Tentatively, you curl your fingers into his gloved ones.

“We are taking the day off, yes?”

“W-we?”

Copia raises an eyebrow at you. “Sí. With who else should I be celebrating?”

You blush, pleased that he seems genuinely baffled.

The March air is living up to its reputation, so Copia leads you to one of the sunniest rooms in the Abbey. There, you find a picnic blanket set up with a picturesque spread of food, and Rain helping Mountain to position a bevy of potted plants around the area.

Copia clucks at them good-naturedly to leave. Rain gives you the thumbs up and Mountain just pats you on the head as they leave. (As Copia’s Girl Friday, you’ve had to backmanage his ghoulies as much as you’ve had to organize his report piles.)

When he gestures for you to sit, you arrange yourself comfortably in a big square of sun that’s streaming in from the windows. As you take in the meats, cheeses, sandwiches, and fruits that populate the corner of the blanket, Copia putters around with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses.

The whole thing is a little unexpected, but not unwelcome, and you watch him with fondness as he utters a Whoopsie when the cork goes flying at the ceiling and as he obsesses over making each glass level.

You two clink glasses with a Salute, both taking a modest sip.

“This is lovely, Cop—uh, Papa.” He’s all smiles. “But why me?”

His eyebrows draw together, and he tilts his head at you.

“Mia cara…who else would it be?”

You blush and shrug your shoulders, looking down at your platter. When he takes your hand in his warm, leathered one, you look up and get lost in his earnest, mismatched gaze.

“You are the most important person in my life.”

His thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“You are too sweet, mia cara. Helping an old man—”

“You’re not old—”

He tsks at you.

“Helping a person I am being. At my side even when you are in the knowing.” He taps his nose and winks. “Our little conspiracy of silence, yes?”

That Copia is not quite exactly the bumbling, nutty-professor he leads the rest of the Clergy to believe he is? Yeah, obviously.

He nods.

“And yet, you are by my side. Keeping my head on straight. Because you are wanting to.”

Because you saw the way he treated his rats, his Ghouls, and even Sister Imperator. He may have a dangerous ambition, but he’s not a dangerous man.

“I believe in you Papa.”

He gives you that fond look again.

“Well. I believe in you too, Sister.”

Copia lets your hand go and claps.

“Now! Let us enjoy this feast! Next up is a movie marathon where we enjoy our food comas, yes?”

You pop a grape into your mouth.

“Of course, Papa.” You give him a devilish smile. “How ‘bout you give the schedule so I can make sure we’re on track, hm?”

He blinks at you for a moment before giving you his little rat laugh.

“Ah, eh heh heh! There is my little taskmaster.”

“What would you do without me?”

He tosses a gape and just barely catches it in his mouth.

“I wouldn’t, cara. I wouldn’t.”

#marionette-ghoulette #cardinal copia #papa iv #female reader #fluff

[redstainedsocks]

Wrong

I've had this half-written in my docs for a long while, under the heading "doorstep collapse" so I think it was for a prompt or whump event but I don't remember which one...

Normal story this time, not the AU!

Content: sick fic, fainting, delirious whumpee, hospital setting, use of sedatives, reference to noncon drug use, mentioned death threat and manner of death, overwhelmed caretaker

[Masterlist]

One or two of the team had taken to sleeping at the office at a time so that Zach was never there alone. Archer wanted to stay every night, always eager to be nearby in case something happened, but he’d been convinced to go home at least one out of every three nights.

He’d spent last night at home, sleeping guiltily in his own soft bed, miles and miles from where his best friend was holed up in a sparse, grey room that was as far from homely as Archer could imagine. Though he knew for Zach it was probably the most comfort he’d had in years, which made Archer feel even worse.

He’d slept well at home, exhausted from late nights and stress, but he would much rather have been here. The pull out couch in the break room was lumpy and not long enough for his tall frame but he still preferred it these days. Zach was just down the hall and it soothed a tightness in Archer’s chest to be close by. To know he could walk down the corridor and lay eyes on the person he thought he’d lost.

He was still untangling his own mix of grief and disbelief, but he knew it was easier to bear the guilt of having left Zach with his kidnappers if he was at least around to make sure it didn’t happen again; if he could be there to help Zach feel safe now.

It was easier not to have to examine his emotions and thoughts at all, if he was so exhausted that he couldn’t think straight.

Zach had gone to bed a couple of hours ago and he had sat up flicking through paperwork, trying to keep busy even as his eyes itched with tiredness. His ‘bed’ was made up ready for the night but he was sprawled on top of it, putting off the moment of sleep until he could close his eyes and be instantly drawn under.

He was surprised to hear a soft knock at the door, tentative, the sound of someone off balance slumping on the other side. Maybe Zach couldn’t sleep either? Maybe he’d finally had a nightmare and come for company—something none of them had seen him do yet.

“It’s open,” he said, half sitting up.

The door swung inward and Zach teetered on the threshold. His eyes roved across the room, landing on Archer but darting away again.

“Zach?” Archer was up and off the bed in an instant, but paused a meter or so away, as Zach looked flighty and liable to flinch at any contact.

“Ar-cher.”

“Yeah?”

“I think,” Zach spoke and it was slurred and he clung to the doorframe. “I think something is wrong.”

Archer barely had time to react before Zach’s eyes rolled backward and his body crumpled underneath him. Archer caught him just before his head hit the floor.

Time was standing still and moving too fast all at once. The ambulance had taken what felt like hours to arrive, while Archer sat there cradling Zach—delirious, feverish, burning up and shaking like a leaf.

The private hospital they were in now was clean, clinical, and calm. Quiet. Discrete. It was a good place to keep Zach hidden and secure, but being there still set his teeth on edge. He paced the corridor-like waiting room back and forth, glad that no one told him to stop. The team had all been called; Sasha had been the one who turned up and stayed. She was a quiet, steady presence. And though he could tell from the line of her tense muscles that she was as worried as he was, she let him be the one to fall apart while she held it together.

Zach had a fever, something was infected. The doctors just couldn’t find where or what. They hadn’t been allowed to see him. Yet. Archer hoped that would change soon.

He rubbed his face tiredly. “I should get more coffee.”

“I think coffee is the last thing you need,” Sasha replied, calmly. “Come sit down.”

He glanced at her and shook his head. He needed to be moving, doing. “If he—” Archer couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “After everything, if this is too much for his body to handle…”

“Nothing is going to happen, the doctors are gonna fix it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” She levelled him with a look that could surely make a mountain bow down and grovel.

“How didn’t we notice something was wrong?”

“He doesn’t let us near him, not really.”

Finally, he slumped into a seat beside her. “I should’ve watched out for him more carefully, checked he was okay. I should’ve… I owe him. We just… we can’t let him down again, we have to do better.”

“Archer, we’re doing everything we can,” she said gently.

“It’s not enough!” He snapped. “We abandoned him! We just left him there and now we can’t even take care of him? Can’t even tell what he needs?”

“Montgomery Archer, sit. Back. Down,” she hissed.

He hadn’t even realised he was standing. He looked down at her, the unfairness still burning through him, how could she not care? Until he saw her face, eyes glistening, and realised the strength of will it was taking for her to hold it together.

“This is a goddamn hospital and this is not the time,” she said, squeezing her hands between her knees. “We thought he was dead, and there’s shit all we can do about it now. You can have a breakdown about it later, but not now, not like this.”

He took a seat, sheepishly. “Sorry. I… seeing him collapse like that has me all churned up.”

“Don’t apologise, you big oaf. Just breathe, and know they’re doing everything they can, and give yourself some damn slack while you’re at it.” She sniffed and turned away.

He scooted down in his chair and leaned against her shoulder, glad she didn't shrug him off, and relieved not to be alone.

*

They were finally allowed in the room once Zach was stabilised. Allowed in because, in the doctor’s words… Zach was resistant. Archer hadn’t really understood the implications of that, his mind taken up with thoughts of he’s fine, he’s alive, they’ve got it under control.

But now… he could see what they meant. Zach was fighting the sedative, semi-conscious and struggling, suffering. He couldn’t really move, but his eyes were open and he was frightened, terrified, but so obviously not-really-here, either. Whatever had happened these past two years Zach had built up some tolerance to the drugs they’d given him and it was heart-breaking; seeing him foggy but alert, unsure of where he was and unable—but so desperate—for something he couldn't name or do.

“See if you can get him to remain calm, he needs to rest,” the doctor said, arms crossed in concern as his eyes roved over Zach’s prone form. “We can’t try him on anything else until this one is out of his system but even then… He’s been asking for someone, we assumed, well, it might be you?”

Archer nodded, cleared his throat. ‘Right, yeah. He knows me, I can—I’ll do what I can. Anything I should be careful of?”

“Just mind the IV line, and call us in if he gets more agitated or anything changes.”

“Okay, I’ve got this. Thank you, Doctor.”

He did not have this. Not even a little bit. He felt completely out of his depth. He loved Zach like a brother, had loved him and mourned him, and now… felt like he barely knew him. What qualified him to take care of Zach like this? He wrung his hands and stepped closer as Sasha sidled around to the other side of the bed. Zach’s eyes tried to track her, and lost her somewhere along the way. His breathing sped up again, bloodshot eyes wide and aimlessly roving as his fingers twitched on the bed sheets.

“Please, please,” Zach murmured. Whispered, almost. It was slurred but unmistakable.

Sasha gave Archer a look, and nodded to the bed. He shook his head. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms and they stared each other down.

I can’t do this. He hoped she understood what his look implied.

Her answering look seemed to say you’re not even trying.

He threw his hands up in defeat and stepped closer. Zach’s eyes landed on Archer’s face and he twitched feebly, shivering in his sparse hospital bed.

“‘M good, I’ll be good, please.”

Archer leaned against the bed, trying to look reassuring, confident. “Yeah, you’re doing really well, okay? We’ve got you, nothing to worry about.”

Zach’s hand jerked and his mouth opened and closed before he whined. “Hurts.”

“I know, buddy, I know.” He looked at Sasha who nodded, so he took Zach’s hand and lightly squeezed. “It’s alright.”

“Please, you promised. Promised.”

That took Archer by surprise and he sucked in a breath, biting his tongue.” I know, I-I said nothing else bad would happen to you, I didn’t know this would happen…”

There was a frustrated look on Zach’s face and his eyes filled with tears, his head flopped a little, side to side. “You promised.”

Archer did the only thing he could think of, he squeezed Zach’s hand tighter and dragged the chair by the bed closer so he could sit and be a calming presence. He wouldn’t abandon Zach, not again, no matter how much Zach yelled and cried at him, broken-hearted though it made him to know he’d let Zach down another time.

“I’ll do whatever--ever you want. Sir, please,” Zach’s voice cracked and he mumbled into incoherence, all in a pleading, painfully placating tone.

Archer’s eyes shot up and he met Sasha’s across the bed, looking as concerned as he did as realisation dawned on them both. Zach wasn’t here.

“Where do you think you are, Zach?” she asked quietly.

Zach--who had flinched at sound of his own name--whimpered. “Can’t--don’t know.”

“You’re safe, we’re here, me and Sasha, and the team has our back. You’re in hospital,” Archer said.

Zach looked at him, clearly, finally. “Promise? Keep your word, like you promised?”

“What did I promise you?” It was a calculated risk to play into whatever Zach thought he was seeing, but he needed to know, didn’t he?

“You said… said you wouldn’t lemme die like this. Not like this. A bullet, you promised, not--not sick, not slowly.”

Archer couldn’t breathe, he blinked furiously to try to keep the tears at bay. “I promise, no-one is dying, not here. Not like this.”

Zach breathed out and tears ran down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and rested his head heavily on the pillows. “Promise. And I’ll be good.”

It seemed to be enough to make Zach settle, and he fell into a fitful doze. Sasha brushed hair back from his forehead and checked the lines in the IV on his right hand. Archer brought Zach’s left hand to his face and kissed the back of his wrist, rubbed his thumb in a circle and then laid it down on the sheets and sat back to bury his face in his own hands.

He jumped when Sasha touched his shoulder and scrubbed hastily at his eyes. “We don’t leave him, one of us stays with him until he’s himself again,” he said, voice thick. “We can’t let him get lost in his own head.”

“I’ll get us something to eat,” she said. “We’ll see him through this.” She left quietly, slipping out the door with graceful ease so they kept their privacy.

He nodded. They would. But really… what could they do in the face of all this?

“What the hell did they do to you?” he whispered to the quiet room.

Zach was too far gone to answer.

@haro-whumps @whumpthisway @hurting-fictional-people @lonesome--hunter @crowned-avery @extrabitterbrain @firewheeesky @outofangband

#sick fic #fever #delirious whumpee #hospital #drug use #referenced noncon drugging #death mention #death threat #whumpee and caretaker #fainting #sedated whumpee #sick whumpee #fevered whumpee #team whump #Zach and Archer #spy whump #referenced death threat

[eddiemunson-thehero]

hey there I've an idea for a bucky request, just an idea though if you don't wanna write it that's completely fine! : ) so im thinking super angst with a sprinkle of fluff maybe? bucky either has a nightmare or some type of episode as the winter solider and attacks reader but doesn't remember doing it, then when he sees reader again he keeps pestering her asking what happened to her bcuz he can see that she's injured. she doesn't want him to feel bad so she tries her best not to tell him but he keeps asking and wanting to talk to her to see if she's okay and she eventually tells him that he did it

Why of course! I hope this is something along the lines of what you requested. I ended up getting a bit carried away hahaha.

Here is Line Without A Hook

You, Bucky, and the rest of the team had just returned from a grueling mission infiltrating a Hydra base in Russia. To be expected Bucky was a bit shaken by being back there, he was quiet most of the ride back in the Quinjet. Deciding that a nice scalding long shower would not only ease your tension but also Bucky’s, you began to light sweet smelling candles along the sink and warm two towels in the dryer.

“Bucky come here my love,” you called out as you were discarding your tactical gear and stepping into the shower. After a few minutes of no response from your blue-eyed lover, you peek your head around the shower curtain, glancing around the room in search of Bucky. Not being able to find him made your heart drop to the depths of your body, slipping out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel, setting off to find him.

When you enter your shared bedroom that is attached to the bathroom your nerves settle, finding your lover stationed stagnant on the bed as if he had fallen asleep sitting up. You walk over and place your hand on his shoulder, only to be met with his metal hand gripping your wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and up against his chest. 

“Bucky what’s going on?” you question, confused by the sudden force of violence he has used upon you. Apparently talking to him wasn’t the right move, seeing as you were now being shoved face-first against your bedroom wall, picture frames falling down from the force, glass shattering around the two of you. Gashes and cuts litter your face as blood begins to trickle down, seeping its way onto the white towel.

Your blood begins to run cold, soon realizing what exactly was going on, the mission had affected Bucky more than he had let on, more than you had realized. Being back in the cold of Russia, in the Hydra base had weakened Bucky, letting The Winter Soldier take main control of his mind and body. Struggling against the grasp that he had on you was no use, as the Soldat roughly turns you around shoving your back against the wall, bringing his metal appendage to wrap around your throat. Before his grasp became too tight you let out a blood-curdling scream, hoping someone would hear and come to your rescue. Black spots begin to speckle across your vision, breathing becoming more ragged as your limp body falls from the grasp of your lover.

________________________

Bright shining lights, hushed conversations, and the scent of sterilized tools are what you awoke to. Blinking slowly, allowing your eyes to adjust to the light you saw that you were in the infirmary located in the compound. Steve and Nat were at the door, indulging in a hushed conversation that you weren’t able to make out. Gently raising your body to sit up caused alarms to sound on the countless monitors that you were hooked up to, which made Steve and Nat’s heads whip around to see your terrified eyes.

Steve rushed to your side, “Y/N, are you okay? How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to realize the tightness and dryness in your throat. Slowly you reached over to grasp the cup of water next to your bed, bringing it to your lips carefully, gulping down its contents quickly. “I’m okay, what happened” you rasped.

“You don’t remember?” Nat questioned, leading you to shake your head no. “Bucky attacked you, something from the mission…” she hesitated, “caused him to lose control on his mind and body, allowing for the Winter Soldier to resurface.” 

“Where is he?” you didn’t care what had happened to you, bruises and cuts would heal with time, the emotional turmoil this would cause Bucky would simply break him. You needed to get to him before he realized what the Winter Soldier had done to you, ripping out your IV and removing your nose cannula, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed ready to find him.

Steve grasped your arm, pulling you back into bed, “He’s in bed, he hasn’t woken up yet, he doesn’t know…” 

“Don’t tell him,” you begged, “Please don’t tell him, he will never forgive himself, let me handle it.” Steve and Nat shared a concerning glance between each other before slowly nodding, knowing that if and when Bucky finds out what happened, he would never forgive himself and would surely disappear. 

After a few hours of tests, you were discharged and were able to go back to your room. Walking down the hallway your breath hitched as you hesitated opening up the door to your shared bedroom with your lover. Hearing his soft snores is what pulled you from the trance, twisting the knob and slipping in quietly. Discarding your clothing in the laundry basket, you crawled your way into bed, next to the man you recognized, smiling peacefully to yourself, you know in your heart that you two will be able to overcome this, as long as he never finds out he was the one to inflict so much harm upon you.

____________________________

The next morning you awoke to soft feather-light kisses being pressed along your spine. Contently you rolled over to snuggle closer to the warmth that radiated off of Bucky, welcoming arms encased you bringing you closer to his chest. Opening your eyes and slowly looking up at Bucky, you heard him inhale harshly, eyes filled with terror and worry. “What the hell happened to you doll?” he stuttered.

“Oh you don’t remember?” you questioned hesitantly, “I got caught up during the mission, some Hydra agents got to me but, you rescued me, my knight in shining armor you.” Letting out a breath you did not know you were holding, you stared at Bucky, praying to God that he believed you.

“No, I don’t remember that, I don’t remember much of the mission…” he trailed off, looking at you questionably. Slowly removing yourself from his grasp, you left the warmth of your bed, extending a hand out to him. “Come on, let's go eat,” you whispered, hoping he would drop the subject. Bucky intertwined his hand with yours, pulling himself out of bed, trekking down the hall to the kitchen where Steve, Nat, and Tony were chatting over breakfast.

“Good morning everyone,” cheerfully you skipped over to the fridge to get out the jam while Bucky grabbed the bread and peanut butter for your breakfast meal.

“Y/N what the hell happened to you?” Tony gasped when your mangled neck and face came into view.

“Oh nothing, just a few scratches from the mission, don’t worry I’m okay,” you replied, hoping everyone would just drop the subject.

“It wasn’t on the debrief, I read it just a few moments ago, care to explain this?” you felt four sets of eyes on you as you slowly turned around, hesitating on your next sentence you locked eyes with Nat and Steve wordlessly begging them for their help.

“Doll…” Bucky moved slowly near you, grabbing both of your hands, pulling you to look at him but, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. Steve and Nat ushered Tony out of the kitchen with hushed whispers. A metal hand reached under your chin, lifting it and making you hold eye contact with Bucky. You open your mouth to start to try and explain but nothing comes out as tears slip down your cheeks. That was an answer enough for Bucky, to realize that the gashes and cuts on your face, the bruise that cascaded down your neck was him. “Did I…” Bucky’s eyes shifted to the floors, dropping your hands from his as he began to step back from you.

“Buck, honey it’s okay I’m okay,” you rushed out moving towards him, which only caused him to back himself up against the wall away from you. “It wasn’t you, this wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know how going there would affect you, no one could have predicted this.” As soon as those words slipped from your lips he was gone, rushing away from you. 

_________________________

You didn’t see Bucky for the rest of the day, you decided to give him the space he needed, hoping that by the end of the night he would come back to you. Wait, that was all you were able to do. When dusk fell your day spent walled up in your room became unbearable, you slipped out of bed, letting your legs carry you to the living room of the compound where you found Steve. Sitting next to him startled him, causing him to look up at you with glossy bloodshot eyes.

“Steve, where’s Bucky?” you question, unsure why the soldier broke down in front of you. Mindlessly you wrapped your arms around him, cooing gently to him.

“He’s gone…” he muttered, “Bucky left this afternoon, to Wakanda.” Steve glanced up at you to see a play-by-play of your heart-shattering. “Shuri said she could get the Winter Soldier program out of him within some time, so he left.”

Wordlessly you curled into Steve’s arms, slowly realizing that the love of your life left you, without even saying goodbye or a promise of returning.

#bucky barnes fluff #soft bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes angst #marvel #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #seb stan #tfatws

[quokkacore]

son of wolves IV [park chanyeol and byun baekhyun]

summary: your entire life, you’ve fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you’re infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it’s in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you’ve so grown to resent. it’s here that you begin to question everything you’ve ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, ANGST, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, war au, wolf!au

warnings: reader was drugged, language, MAJOR violence tw (gun violence and stabbing to be specific), animal death, threats of violence, loss of consciousness due to head trauma, body horror, horrible writing!!!

song recs: leave a trace - chvrches // lost it to trying - son lux // i will never die - delta rae // the legend of ashitaka - joe hisaishi // victory song - stray kids // pray for me // the weeknd & kendrick lamar // garden song - phoebe bridgers 

word count: 10.0k

a/n: im srry this is so late pls dnt hate me

this is the final chapter of sow!! i’m so glad i finally finished it. i love this fic, i really do. but this is SOO overdue.

main masterlist // story masterlist

A fog hung over your head. You could barely see three feet in front of you, and everything was hazy. What you knew was that you were in the inner circle—it wasn't as cold. The sound of paws and feet crunching against the snow wasn't that far away from you. It stopped a few seconds later.

"Hello?" You called, slowly walking towards the sound. "Chanyeol?"

Again, the sound of paws and feet, but this time in the opposite direction. You reeled, now unsure of which way to go. A sense of dread was beginning to pool in your stomach. 

"Sehun? Junmyeon?" Your voice was small and shaky, taking one step forward. "Chanyeol?"

You stood still, waiting for a sign, a sound. The forest was dead silent. When you tried to take a step forward, your body turned rigid. Every single hair on your body stood straight up. 

And then, you began to shake. Just as the fog cleared, and two figures appeared in front of you. Both of them beaten bloody, chests heaving, eyes burning with rage. Chanyeol's shirt was torn, and there was a cut running across his chest, staining the ruined fabric. Tears were streaking his dirt stained face. 

Baekhyun's left cheek was swollen, quickly turning purple. His right cheek was bleeding. But he seemed more steady. His sword was drenched in drying blood. 

And then you noticed the wolves. 

All four of Chanyeol's brothers lay dying all around them, warm crimson melting the snow as they bled out. You could hear them whining in pain as they did, legs twitching in pain. 

You tried to call out to them, but you choked on black tendrils, bursting through your throat. Your jawbone cracked as they did, tremors wracking your body as you gagged on your cries of pain. All you could do was watch in horror as they charged at each other, hurling curses and obscenities at each other. 

The tremors in your body intensified, your injured arm cracking as the black, oily coils shot forward, wrapping around your throat.

Spots danced across your vision, your head beginning to pound as you couldn't breathe. Your vision lost focus, eyes blurring with tears. 

The last thing you saw was Baekhyun's sword impaling Chanyeol's chest, the iron bursting through his back. As his younger brother's blood splattered across his face and neck, Baekhyun's face broke into a sadistic grin. 

A horrible laugh rang throughout the forest, and you awoke with a start, hands grabbing at your neck to unwrap inky coils that weren't there. You were sweating and your chest was heaving.

Slowly, you sat up, blinking furiously to allow your eyes to adjust to the sunlight. You could tell that it was still relatively early, maybe before nine.  When you caught your breath, you wiped the sweat off of your brow. Your throat felt itchy and your head was pounding. Getting up was one thing, walking to the door was another. You were disoriented and dizzy, nauseous, even. You jiggled the door, and sighed when it wouldn’t budge. 

You glanced towards the window, even though you knew it was too small for you to jump out of. Rubbing your temples and letting out a deep sigh, you tried to push all of the events of last night to the back of your mind, Baekhyun’s betrayal refusing to fade to the back of your head. You lay down on the bed again, processing everything you knew now.

You loved Baekhyun, you really did. Yesterday morning, when he had kissed you, you felt relieved that you were in his arms again. 

But Baekhyun’s kisses, contrary to what you had originally thought, no longer felt as comforting or as safe. Even before he had thrown you to the wolves, metaphorically speaking. Chanyeol’s lips on yours permeated your mind, the memory stuck in your head. 

You found that the more you tried to pull away from the thought of that tall, mysterious man, the tighter his grip became—deep down, you knew that only in coming closer would you be released. Vaguely, it reminded you of the toy your father had brought you once when you were a child, woven out of thin strips of bamboo. Sticking your index fingers in, and then trying to pull them out was impossible, as the toy stretched and its hold got tighter. However, when you pushed them together, the toy expanded, and your fingers were released.

Were three weeks even long enough to fall in love? Two, considering the fact that the first week he basically wanted to kill you? You weren’t sure. All you knew was that right now, Chanyeol’s safety, as well as that of his brothers and of Selyne, was all you wanted.

Your thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the front door. You turned to face the door, waiting with bated breath. Had they returned so soon?

You were disappointed when the bedroom door swung open, Yixing standing awkwardly in the doorway. He stared at you, emotionlessly, before he sighed and stepped inside. Your eyes watched his every move like a hawk, and scowled at him when he sat down on the chair where your clothes were. 

“I’m here to do a check-up,” He told you, “You’re still recovering.”

“What, from my cold induced madness or the huge stab wound in my back?” You spat. He looked down, face not changing. He almost looked ashamed.

“I’m sorry you see it that way.” His voice was quiet. “I brought you some food and some water. You can eat that and then we can get started. I know you must be hungry.”

He pulled out a bowl wrapped in fabric, as well as a canteen from his bag. When he showed you what was inside—rice and some beef—you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. After last night, you weren't sure you ever wanted to eat anything again. Yixing shook his head once he realized. Which meant he knew.

"There's nothing in it," He said, sounding earnest. "I promise, Y/N." 

You would have refused, but the pounding in your head seemed to be unending. It didn’t take long for your resolve to crack. You drank almost all of the water in the canteen, and you practically inhaled the meal. 

“The troops left three hours ago. About a hundred and twenty soldiers total. Baekhyun, Minseok and Jongdae are leading them,” He informed you, fiddling with his clothes and staring at the walls. 

You didn’t reply, too angry to do so.

When you finished, you allowed him to do his check up. He asked you about how you were feeling, how certain parts of your body felt, like your legs and your chest, if you’d been feeling dizzy or nauseous. He was done fairly quickly, and as he packed away the now empty bowl, spoke up again.

“Remember the time Jongdae dared me to sneak out into the Spearwood when we were younger?”

“When Minseok misfired and shot you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. How could I forget after the way your dad almost punched Min?”

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was no joy behind it. “I spent about three hours out there. I never told you guys, but I got lost pretty quickly. I panicked once I realized I didn’t know where I was. I thought I was gonna get killed by some animal in the name of the gods or something. You know how I panic.”

You nodded, humming, unsure of where he was going. “It was summertime,” He continued, “So it wasn’t as quiet as it is now. And about halfway through those three hours, I heard branches snapping behind me, and… this thing sounded big, Y/N. I-I just about shit my pants when I turned. Because I had never seen a bear so close to me before, and it was huge, and it was headed towards me.”

He looked up at you, eyes full of awe. “I was so freaked out, it didn’t occur to me to try and shoot it or to play dead or anything. All I could do was stand there, trying not to scream or provoke it. It walked right past me, and kept walking straight. I thought I should run or hide, until it turned back to look at me and… she spoke to me. Well, not speak, it was more like—”

“Like an echo in your mind,” You said, sitting up straight, “That… that was Mirren.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. “She wasn’t anything like they told us she would be. She was so… kind, and gentle. She knew I was afraid, and she promised she wouldn’t hurt me if I didn’t hurt her. And I was a 19 year old idiot who had a sword. I wasn’t going to try and kill a goddess. So I followed her, and she took me as far as she could without being seen. We barely spoke. But when she told me to keep going, because that was as far as she could go safely, I was so grateful. I… I never would have expected that kind of mercy and kindness from one of the gods, not after everything we were taught. And then twenty minutes later I got back to the wall and Minseok misfired.”

Yixing furrowed his eyebrows, staring at his hands in his lap. “That Chanyeol guy. He’s pretty much the only link between the human world and the forest, right?”

You nodded.

“So if he died or if Selyne died… the forest would lose its only possible bridge between the two. And that would make it harder for them to understand us, or to communicate easily.”

Again, you nodded. Yixing shrugged. “For us, that’s a good thing. The gods would have to communicate directly with us, and we could take them down when they’re vulnerable.”

You nodded, looking to the side and gnawing on the inside of your cheek. Why he felt the need to rub it in made no sense to you, why would he—

“Which is why it would be a shame if you were to escape.”

Your head snapped forward to look at him, eyes widening. He sighed, obviously nervous. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “It would be a shame if you were to overpower me and lock me in this room. An even bigger shame if you were to know that your bow and quiver are in the stables, and that the guards patrolling the east gate change shifts in about… fifteen minutes. A huge shame, really.” 

You just about stopped breathing, staring at him wordlessly. Yixing raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you going to do anything or do I have to knock myself out?”

“Why can’t you just say that I locked you in here?”

“What, you really think they’ll believe that?”

You stood up, shaking your head. He was right, but that didn’t make you feel any better about knocking Yixing’s lights out. “Thank you, Xing. I can never repay you.”

Yixing waved his hand. “You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. If anything, this is me repaying my own debt.”

You sighed shakily, and Yixing stood up. “Please don’t hit me too hard,” He said. You smiled, and shook your head, before throwing up your fists. Before you could do anything, he held up his hands. “W-wait, wait.”

“What?”

“Kick Baekhyun’s ass,” He ordered, “His head’s been getting too big for his shoulders, anyway.”

You smiled sadly, before nodding. “I’ll try,” You answered, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” 

Yixing shut his eyes, grimacing. “Do it.”

With one final deep breath, you swung at his temple, and Yixing fell to the floor. You checked to make sure he was knocked out cold, tapping his face slightly, and setting off when he didn’t come to. 

You changed into more suitable clothes to wear in combat, and slung on your snow boots and a dark blue cloak.

Before you left, you walked into the dining room, and looked towards the floor, before something glinting in the low sunlight caught your eye. Heart splintering, you picked up the necklace, and tucked it into your pocket.

This would have been so much easier if you’d been let out before the sun came up. You placed the hood of your cloak up, hiding your face and keeping your head down, hoping to not draw too much attention as you walked towards the stables. Thankfully, the path leading there was still relatively empty given that it was before ten. 

When you got to the stables, you found your bow and arrow hung on the wall, right next to Ivan’s stall. For a moment, you considered taking him with you, but decided against it. It would be too hard to sneak a reindeer out in broad daylight. You would simply have to run as fast as you could and hope that luck was on your side.

So you hid the weapons under your cloak, and made your way to the east gate, where, just as Yixing had said, the parapet atop it was empty. And once you had broken the lock, and were outside, you were gone. 

Immediately, you realized that the energy in the Spearwood was different. The air was crisper, seemingly even colder. If the forest had been quiet the first time you stepped into it, you could practically hear the sound of your blood rushing throughout your body. A few minutes into your walk, it began to snow, and you found yourself shivering already.

Once you were out of sight of the parapets, you removed your cloak briefly, placing the quiver and bow over it rather than under it for better access.

Being alone in the snow, with everything you knew now, filled you with an odd sense of nostalgia. If a month ago, someone had told you you would willingly march into the Spearwood to try and end the war, you definitely wouldn’t have expected this to be your course of actions, and you certainly would have expected to have different motives. 

You did your best to retrace your old steps, but the past 24 hours, the fact that it had been three weeks since you came this way, and the difference in lighting made it significantly harder. You walked for about forty minutes, cautious enough to listen for the footsteps of anyone who might have followed you from Ironbend.

And while eventually you did hear footsteps, they definitely weren’t from anyone you were expecting. The fast sound of paws thumping against the snow, racing at you from behind barely gave you time to turn and spot the giant mass of white fur bounding towards you. With a soft, “oomph!” you were tackled to the ground, tumbling a few times before finally landing on your back in the snow. You opened your eyes to meet a familiar gaze. 

We really have to stop meeting like this, y’know, Sehun declared as he stepped back, it’s weird.

“You’re the one that tackled me,” You argued, sitting up and brushing off the snow that was on your cloak. “What are you doing so far out of the inner circle?”

Sehun shook himself off, before staring at you seriously. Emergency patrol. Mama sensed danger. 

 “She was right,” You said with a nod, “Is she safe?”

Why would she be keeping herself safe? He sounded kind of exasperated. 

“Because she’s the target, Sehun. The three troops they brought out are looking for her.”

All of the playfulness in Sehun’s demeanor seemed to evaporate. Shit. Junmyeon knows where she is. Get on. I’m taking you to him.

You got on his back, and he huffed slightly at the new sensation of having to carry you. Sorry if it gets bumpy. I’m not really used to having people ride on my back... That’s usually Junmyeon’s job.

“Shut up, you overgrown spoiled baby,” You answered warmly, “It’s okay. As long as we get there in one piece.”

Did you get there in one piece? Kind of. You had to cling onto him and lower yourself to basically lie on his back. Otherwise you bounced too much and you risked falling off of him. The wind ripped your hood off, whipping your hair in the process and drying your eyes. 

He slowed down once he approached a clearing, where you could easily see the brown wolf standing in the white snow. He turned once he heard Sehun’s paws. When he noticed you, he seemed rather taken aback. 

Y/N? What are you doing here? Why did you even leave? He asked when you got off of Sehun.

“I needed to warn you. All of you. Selyne is in danger.”

She’s the warden of the forest, he pointed out, I think it’s an occupational hazard.

You sighed, annoyed at how willing the both of them had been to brush off your warnings so easily. “This is different. More than a hundred men are in the forest right now—all of them armed with guns, I might add—trying to find her, because they know that if she dies, Chanyeol loses his link to the forest and any hope for negotiation and bridging the spirit world and the human world is gone. You need to warn her, now.”

Junmyeon, evidently stunned speechless, looked between you and Sehun for a few seconds, before his gaze settled on you finally. We knew about the troops. We didn’t know about their plan. How did you find out? 

You pursed your lips. “My… I used to be close to their leader. He’s… the swordsman.”

Shit, Sehun swore. 

Fuck, Junmyeon agreed.

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes widened at the distant sound of the deep voice, turning your head to see Chanyeol, trudging through the snow. His eyes were wide, and when he recognized your face, he began walking faster. 

Of their own accord, your feet started moving in his direction. You ignored the voices of Sehun and Junmyeon trying to catch your attention. He sped up again, now making his best attempt to run to you, even though the snow passed his ankles. Your heart pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears, you sped up as well. As the distance lessened, you took in the familiar features. The pelt that kept him warm, the mask held back atop his dark hair, his cheeks streaked with blood he’d painted on, the round earrings dangling from his prominent ears.

Finally, he was within arms reach, and he reached out his arms the same way you did. His gaze was desperate, almost unbelieving that it was really you. The two of you collided, lips smashing against each other as his hands gripped you in several different places, like he was trying to make sure you were tangible. First at your waist, then your back, until finally, they gripped your face tenderly, calloused hands holding your face. Your hands wrapped around his neck, standing up straight to reach his lips. 

The state of catharsis his desperate kisses gave you confirmed it. You knew in your heart who you wanted. 

 When Chanyeol pulled away, you wiped away the snowflakes that had fallen on his cheeks and nose. “Y/N,” He murmured, “You came back.”

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

”I had to,” You said softly, nuzzling your nose against his cheek, “I needed to warn you about what’s coming.”

His face fell slightly when he heard your reasoning, but he didn’t step away. “Y/N, I… I shouldn’t have let you leave. A-and I shouldn’t have said those things I said. I was… scared. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, breaking away. “Right now, we can’t focus on that. I need you all to listen to me. I know what the troops are trying to do.” 

He nodded, eyes turning serious. “Come on,” He said, turning you to face the clearing. The two of you paused when you noticed the two other wolves sitting in the clearing, watching you bemusedly. 

I told you something happened, Jongin said to Kyungsoo, Now you owe me your next part of the hunt. 

Chanyeol scowled, and had this not been such a serious moment, you would have laughed. The two of you walked back over to the quartet, where you greeted them all properly. Not wasting any time, you went over the basics. How you’d been found by Baekhyun and taken back to Ironbend, what you told the Council in an attempt to get them to consider a truce, how you managed to escape. Baekhyun and his plan. The danger that Selyne was in, and by extension, the danger that Chanyeol was in. 

“She needs to hide, now,” You told them once you finished, “Chanyeol, you might need to hide, too.”

“I’m not going to hide,” He fired back. “This is my home. They’re threatening my mother. I’m not about to stand back and let them do it.” 

You stared at him, gripping his forearm. “Chanyeol, Baekhyun knows. He told me he would kill you.”

“And I’m telling you I’ll kill him.” Chanyeol’s eyes were wide, serious. “Y/N, I’m more expendable than Selyne is. If I die, it’s a major setback. If Selyne dies…”

It’s the beginning of the end for us, Kyungsoo completed, The magic of the forest will become unbalanced if it loses one of its Pillars. 

And if the magic of the forest becomes unbalanced, we lose our strongest wall of defense, Junmyeon agreed. It’s our job as our mother’s sons to lead in her place in moments when she can’t. One of those moments is now. Chanyeol has to fight.

You clenched your jaw. “Fine,” You bit out, “But someone needs to go warn Selyne, right now.” 

Chanyeol and I can go. Jongin, Kyungsoo, you both need to gather the other wolf packs. Call the bears as well, any other animals that can defend the forest. Foxes, coyotes, birds of prey, lynxes. Call the raccoons if you have to. This is life or death. Junmyeon straightened his posture. Sehun, you show Y/N how far the troops have gone. Stay hidden. Let’s rendezvous in an hour and wait for Kyungsoo and Jongin with the reinforcements.

  We’ll go as fast as we can, Jongin said, before turning to Kyungsoo. Let’s go. 

Sehun lifted his head to gaze at you. You heard him. Get on.

You nodded, turning to Chanyeol, who was about to get onto Junmyeon. “Wait.”

Chanyeol’s eyes softened as you approached him, reaching into your pocket. You tucked the necklace into the palm of his hand, closing his fist around it. “Be careful,” You begged him, “I didn’t betray an entire village just for you to get yourself killed.”

He gave a soft smile, his other hand grasping yours. “I’ll come back to you,” He promised. You peered into his eyes, wanting to say so many things.

Gross, Sehun interrupted, and Chanyeol’s smile disappeared immediately. “Don’t be a dick.”

He’s Sehun, Junmyeon mumbled, giving something akin to an eyeroll, Kind of impossible for him not to be. Now come on, we need to go now.

Chanyeol offered you one small, final smile, before he and Junmyeon sped off. 

You turned to Sehun, getting on his back. “Is it that hard for you to not be an asshole?” You asked, tone warm and teasing.

You all love me anyway, he replied. His cheekiness was not missed. The two of you took off immediately afterwards. You remembered to lower yourself and stay close to his back. Sehun explained that the magic of the forest was affecting the troops, leading them on the wrong path.

They’ve been going in circles for about two hours now, Sehun snickered, But we can’t just let them trample through the forest without teaching them a lesson. 

“Be careful once we get closer to their location,” You said into his ear, “They’ll probably have scouts patrolling within a few hundred meters of their formation on all sides.”

I’ll keep that in mind. 

The pair of you slowed to a walk, and you got off of him, pulling out your bow and nocking an arrow out of caution. Silence reigned over the forest, making the sounds of your boots crunching in the snow cringeworthy and deafening. The two of you were nearing the top of a hill, approaching its steep summit. As you approached it, the sound of stomping and snow crunching became louder and louder. You swallowed the lump in your throat, slowing significantly.

You stopped at the sound of a familiar shout. The boom of the voice actually made Sehun’s ears lower, the wolf flinching at the noise.

“Regroup!” Jongdae yelled, “We’ll stop for ten minutes.” 

You stared at Sehun, who in turn gazed at you before cocking his head at a large boulder that should give you both some cover. Slowly, as quietly as possible, you both approached the snow cap rock, before Sehun peeked over the edge of the rock. 

They’re at the base of the hill. If you’re gonna come over here, be careful. 

You leaned over the side of the rock, releasing the tension in the string of your bow. 

120 sounded like a lot of men, you realized, but the visual was somewhat underwhelming. They easily fit in the large clearing at the base of the hill. Seeing them all huddled together in the cold brought you an odd sense of comfort. 

Seeing Byun Baekhyun and his two lackeys had the opposite effect.

Baekhyun, Minseok and Jongdae were excellent military strategists. They were better than you, that was for sure, and you came from a long line of military leaders. They worked even better when the three of them worked together. In previous campaigns in other places, they’d done great damage with even smaller troops. You knew damn well that they would turn this relatively small group into a well oiled killing machine, and use each man to the best of their ability.

Still, you knew they had some weaknesses in their formations. Every formation did. They were very susceptible to being attacked from the back. It would catch them off guard very easily. 

What are you thinking? Sehun asked.

“They can be very vulnerable from the back,” You whispered, “This is their standard formation. I doubt they’ll change it now that they’re this deep—takes too much time, lowers their guard. See the back line? Those are the reserves. They’re generally the strongest men, but they’re more spread out. That’s where Baekhyun, Jongdae and Minseok are, also—their leaders. The ones meant to be fodder are generally put on the front line.”

That’s… interesting. But an attack from the back would mean taking out a small group of strong opponents, and then fighting a larger group. That’s… not ideal. We would tire ourselves out.

“There are bound to be more than 120 animals in the forest willing to defend it,” You pointed out. “They’re used to combat at a distance, especially with the shoulder guns. If we can approach them and overwhelm them, we might just be able to get them to retreat.” 

You watched as Baekhyun, Jongdae and Minseok had a quiet discussion between the three of them, Jongdae’s hands gesturing wildly. 

“Jackasses,” You grumbled, before stepping back safely behind the boulder. “Have we seen enough?” 

I think so. It looks like they’re going to keep heading west. Which is good. Mama’s den is east. Let’s get back to the rendezvous point. 

You nodded, exhaling softly. You stole one last glance at Baekhyun before you and Sehun trudged down the hill, putting some distance between the troops and you both before you mounted the wolf and broke out into a run. You kept your eyes open as he ran, hoping the winds would dry the tears in your eyes.

You were the first ones back in the clearing. 

“You’re sure we’re in the right place, right?” You asked, just to be sure. Sehun sat, shaking some snowflakes off of his snout. This is where the pack scent is strongest, and I can still see the tracks from where we all split up, so yes. And look, that’s where you and Chanyeol… swapped spit.

“And you say Chanyeol and I are the gross ones.”

Sehun laughed. Well, that’s what it looked like! Human displays of affection are so odd. At first I thought you were trying to eat each other.

You shook your head. “No. Not at all,” You answered with a laugh, “It’s actually—”

Sehun’s head turned, ears perking up. Your speech died in your mouth, watching as a few seconds later, Chanyeol and Junmyeon came into view. They made their way into the clearing, and stopped right in front of you. Chanyeol slid off of Junmyeon’s back, stretching his legs when he did.

It took her some convincing, but Mother is safe. She’s in one of her secret dens, just in case. 

You sighed in relief. “Good.”

We also found Beval and Emyr on our way there. We made sure to warn them.

Well, what did they say? Sehun asked.

Beval is rounding up the birds of prey as we speak. He’s also sending them some heavy snowfall and winds—he called it a welcome gift.

You smiled as the remark before Junmyeon continued. Emyr is rounding up the deer, and he’s sent out a message to any smaller animals to stay in their dens. The deer will be joining us, but they’ll stay at a distance so they can treat the injured.  

“Selyne sends her blessing,” Chanyeol added, looking at you.  “She also wanted me to return this to you.”

Chanyeol stretched out his hand, holding out a familiar black sheath with a leather band. The silver guards and the pommel of the sword seemed to glow in the daylight.

 “So that’s where that went,” You mumbled, more to yourself. You looked up at Chanyeol after you had grabbed the sword. “Thank you.”

He waved his hand. “This is important.”

So, what now? Sehun asked, Wait for the reinforcements?

I suppose so, Junmyeon answered, before eyeing you and Chanyeol. He turned to face Sehun. Mother actually wanted me to talk to you about something. Come on, let’s go. 

What on earth could she want you to nag me for at a time like this? I—

Junmyeon bared his teeth, growling in a move that surprised the three of you Sehun’s words died abruptly. Sehun, he hissed, eyes darting between the youngest wolf, and you and Chanyeol, Come on. 

...Oh. Oh! Okay. Yeah. It’s probably that… thing I was talking about with her yesterday. Okay, yeah, let’s go.

The two wolves stalked off, Junmyeon nagging the entire time.

You looked up at Chanyeol, before tying the leather band securely around your waist. “Alright, we have some time to kill. Do… do you wanna talk about that night?”

Chanyeol slumped forward, looking downwards. When he looked back up, he nodded. You leaned against a tree, crossing your arms.

“I was an ass,” Chanyeol admitted. “I was unfair to you. But… I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just… I was terrified. I’ve never felt so vulnerable with someone else, before.”

“Chanyeol…”

“I love you. I don’t—I don’t know when or how it happened. And I was so angry when I didn’t go after you. And then when I finally did, it was too late. We didn’t find you. I just… lost it kind of.”

He showed you his right hand, where the knuckles were bruised and cut.

“What did you even do, punch a tree?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.  

He pursed his lips, ears turning red. “Well…”

You bit back a laugh, and tried hard to hold back the smile trying to break onto your face. 

“Oh, gods.”

“Shut up,” He huffed, trying to hold back his own smile now.

“You’re… you’re really something,” You said. Chanyeol shrugged and his face fell again.

“I fucked up. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” You countered, “I was scared, too. Terrified. But after everything that’s happened since then, I know what I want. I want to stay here, with you, and I want to protect this place.”

“Y-you’re gonna stay?”

You looked down, shutting your eyes. You thought over the life you’d had in Ironbend, all of the friends and family you’d ever known. All of them united under one cause, and here you were, about to throw it all away. Guilt swam in your chest at the idea of having to consider them enemies.

“I want to be with you,” You hummed, grabbing his hand, “And if they knew about us, they would kill me.”

His hand squeezed yours. “I’m not going to let them.”

You smiled sadly. “I’m not going to let them hurt you, either.”

He opened his mouth to say something, when the sound of rustling in the distance caused him to turn his head. Instantly, the two of you reached for your weapons.

It’s them, Sehun called, running back into the clearing. It’s time.

You looked at Chanyeol, who squeezed your hand again. “Let’s do this.”

This would have been a lot faster had it been summer. So many animals were hibernating, and while there were still more animals than there were humans, you still wondered whether or not it would be enough. These animals didn’t have the types of weapons that the humans did, save for your sword, bow and arrow, and Chanyeol’s dagger. 

A total of 361 animals showed up. Chanyeol’s four brothers, and a total of 97 wolves from different packs scattered throughout the Spearwood, for a total of 101 wolves. It made sense to you that the majority of animals would be wolves, given that Selyne was the one that was threatened the most. Other troops included 51 birds of prey, 46 foxes, 29 coyotes, 32 bears, 55 deer, 19 raccoons, 11 lynxes and surprisingly enough, 17 squirrels. 

You weren’t sure whether to be surprised by the fact that squirrels had decided to show up or that the vast majority of them—along with the raccoons—came armed with relatively large jagged rocks to throw at the small army. 

At first, the animals were skeptical of your plan. You didn’t blame them. A human, a foreigner, trying to lead them into battle? It didn’t sound safe.

The plan was simple enough. Wait until the troops reached one of the streams, so that it would be difficult for them to cross. Start an aerial attack with the birds of prey, the squirrels and the raccoons, then the front line of animals would attack the back line. The second, third and fourth lines would attack all around, and eventually the lines would open up towards the north, in an effort to push them back. The deer would be waiting past the stream, out of sight, waiting to work on the injured with their magic. You made sure to explain to them how the guns worked, and what needed to be done to heal the wounds. 

The troops would be given a wide berth on all sides. The signals to attack would be given via howls, or in the case of the birds of prey, a screech.

Each wolf would be leading from a different direction. Junmyeon would be leading the front line with Chanyeol. Jongin would lead the second line, Kyungsoo the third, and Sehun the fourth lines. 

You would be on the front line as well. As the groups separated, the forest seemed to fill with fog. You followed Junmyeon and Chanyeol, who were following the scent of the human troops as they led your group of about 50 or so animals. The only sound you could hear was the sound of snow crunching beneath you. You could barely see anything as the fog hanging overhead seemed to seep into the forest the closer and closer you got. You tried desperately not to think of your dream. 

The wind blew harder as well, whipping your hair every which way, drying your eyes. Snow fell even heavier. It became slightly harder to trudge through it.

As your group came to its waiting point, one of the birds—a hawk, you saw—flew overhead before flying back up into the fog overhead. That was the signal to stop and wait.

Junmyeon stopped, turning back to the group. Chanyeol held his hand up, signalling for everyone to stop and wait. 

You couldn’t see the troops yet, but you knew that they weren’t too far away. The dense treeline simply made it difficult to see anything that wasn’t a hundred meters away. All you could do now was wait. Your eyes met Chanyeol’s for a second, and he flashed you a soft smile. You looked him once over, your heart doing a backflip when it saw the opal necklace resting against his shirt.

“Be safe,” He mouthed at you, and you nodded as he pulled down his mask. 

“You, too.”

The silence of the forest was shattered by a gunshot. You both turned to face the direction the sound was coming from, which was straight ahead. You forced yourself to take deep breaths, flexing your fingers. Your fingertips were numb from the cold. A second gunshot echoed through the forest, your stomach began to sink.

Gripping your bow, you tried to recall how many bows you had in your quiver. 35, 36? No more than 37, that was for sure.

Y/N, You heard Junmyeon say, flinching when a third gunshot came. You nodded once in his direction. Get on. Chanyeol will get off once we’re close enough. Your bow won’t work up close. 

“Okay,” you mumbled, approaching them slowly. “We’re not too heavy?”

It’ll be fine, the wolf huffed, Just don’t take too much time with those arrows.

“Got it,” You answered, getting on, right behind Chanyeol. You made a mental note to suggest a saddle for them—if they knew what a saddle was, anyway. 

“Hold on to me,” Chanyeol murmured, “Don’t pull out your bow until I say so.”

You nodded. “Be careful. Both of you.” 

A fourth gunshot sounded, and you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I’m gonna kiss you so hard when this is over,” Chanyeol whispered.

Gods, Sehun’s right, Junmyeon grumbled, You two are disgus—

A shrieking noise rang across the forest, and all of the hairs stood up on your body as you registered as the sound of a hawk’s screeching.

Now! Junmyeon yelled, beginning to charge forward, all of the other animals running behind you.

“Wait for my signal,” Chanyeol told you, “Stay alert.”

You didn’t reply, too focused on thinking about what was about to happen. As Junmyeon and the other animals weaved through the trees, you began to see something in the distance, barely outlined in the fog. Two more gunshots sounded, sparks glowing for a split second in the mist, perfectly giving away their location. 

They were closer now. You could hear murmuring, shouting. The sound of running water, albeit a bit softer than the voices. Any second now, they would hear you.

“Now!” Chanyeol told you, as a large, dark mass came into view, slightly blurred by the fog. You pulled away from Chanyeol, pulling off your bow and nocking an arrow quickly.

“What is that noise!?” You heard a voice yell. You couldn’t recognize who it was.

“STAND FIRM!” A loud voice ordered. Jongdae. 

A single figure burst into view, and you knew it had to be a scout. The young man turned, and his eyes widened when he spotted you, grimacing as you aimed your arrow at him. 

His mouth opened wide, and he began to screech, “From the nor—!”

Your arrow pierced his chest, and you forced yourself to look away as he fell to the ground.

“The north!” You heard Baekhyun say, “FACE NORTH! NOW!”

You pulled out another arrow and nocked it as well, just as the troops appeared in your line of vision. You spotted Baekhyun almost immediately, but couldn’t bring yourself to aim directly at him. Instead, as the animals charged, you let it fly into someone right behind him, hitting the man straight in the eye. The arrow whizzed past Baekhyun’s head. His eyes widened momentarily when he saw you on top of the wolf, sitting behind Chanyeol’s familiar face, before it twisted into a hateful sneer. 

“Attack!” He cried, “Fire, NOW!”

The first gunshots were fired, thick rocks still raining down on the men, hawks and eagles swooping down to claw at their faces. 

As Junmyeon turned, he slowed down enough for Chanyeol to jump off. The man pulled out his dagger, charging straight for a soldier of similar stature. 

Your turn, Y/N, Junmyeon said, You run out of arrows and I’ll call in the second line. 

“On it!” You answered, aiming another arrow. 

The two of you made an unlikely duo, working surprisingly well. Junmyeon knew to run slightly away from the fighting, because up close your arrows wouldn’t be much help. Running parallel to the front line, you fired arrow after arrow into the crowd. You even managed to get him to dodge a few bullets. One grazed his side, causing him to yelp, and you countered by sending your arrow into the neck of the man who shot at him. 

Truthfully, you tried not to aim at the people you knew. It was too difficult, seeing their shock and the look of betrayal cross their faces for a split second before you fired your arrow. But that was difficult, because everyone knew you, the same way they knew their father. 

You couldn’t imagine what they must have been thinking, to see someone who they thought would become their leader in the future fighting alongside their supposed enemies. 

All around you, chaos reigned. The rock flinging had slowed down, but birds were still diving down to attack men at random. The men at the other side of the troops were trying to spread out, to extend the front line, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. In the distance you watched two men try to fend off a grizzly bear. You had to turn your attention elsewhere, but from the looks of it, they weren’t winning.

Soon enough, you were down to your last arrow. Which, in a way, was good, because you could tell Junmyeon was beginning to slow down. The sooner he had less weight to carry, the better.

Do you see Chanyeol? Junmyeon asked, and your eyes scanned the front line, stopping when they landed on Chanyeol fighting hand to hand with a soldier. He was on the other side of the battlefield. “I see him,” You answered, “Junmyeon, let me off now and call in the second line!”

What about you? He asked as you slid off his back, firing your final arrow into a man aiming at a bar, cringing when you recognized him as the baker’s son. “I’ll be fine,” You insisted, slinging your bow across your chest, before pulling out your sword, “Just call them, now!”

Taking off before he could answer, your legs set off. As you ran, you assessed the damage. Some animals lay injured or dying, others running off as they got injured, probably to circle around to the deer.

Your breath puffed out as you made your way towards Chanyeol. You heard people call your name, some even calling out for help, but you refused to spare them any glances. You wondered if they had seen you charging in… they probably hadn’t.

When you were about fifty meters from Chanyeol, someone stepped in front of you. Looking up to meet their eyes, you saw Minseok, holding his spear up and eyeing you defensively. 

“Get out of here and they might just let you live,” He grunted. You held your sword out, eyeing the movements of his right arm. 

“As if you would let the gods live,” You quipped, “In the grand scheme of things, I’m no one.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to have to do this.” His voice was shaky, glancing to the side to avoid your eyes. “We’ve been friends for years, I would never forgive myself if I had to—”

Thwap! You turned the blade so that when you hit him with it, the flat end hit the side of his head. The edge still drew some blood, though, and Minseok stumbled back, giving you just enough time to lift your leg, kicking him square in the chest. He stumbled back even further before falling to the ground, breathless. You hopped closer, hoping to knock him unconscious without hurting him too much.

Looking at him, your heart ached. As you lumbered over him, grabbing the collar of his shirt, you frowned. “I’m sorry,” You murmured, before knocking his head into the ground once, twice, three times, until his eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp.

You had no time to check whether or not he was still breathing, instead standing straight up and taking a deep breath before starting to run again. As you did, you heard Junmyeon’s howl echo across the forest. Weaving through the trees, you knew more help would be here soon. 

And it did, the second line appearing towards the south within a matter of seconds, sandwiching the troops between two groups of animals. As you got closer to Chanyeol, you felt something pull you back by the cloak, letting out a yelp as you fell to the ground. You fell on your butt, pain traveling up your back. Looking back to see what had snagged your cloak, you watched as Baekhyun ran past you in an attempt to get to Chanyeol, who had his back turned as he fought off another man. Baekhyun didn’t so much as spare you a glance.

You stumbled to your feet, eyes widening as you watched Baekhyun pull out his sword. Your feet somehow seemed to fly across the snow, your body going into overdrive. You’d seen this strategy before. Someone would distract the target, only for Baekhyun to come in and strike them down from behind.

You knew what would happen if you didn’t stop it. Slowing down for only a moment, you picked up a large rock that had to have hit some poor man in the head. Not even hesitating, you chucked the bloody rock at Baekhyun’s feet, causing him to stumble. 

That gave you the advantage, making a beeline in front of him, practically back to back to Chanyeol. Your smaller sword met Baekhyun’s with a loud clang, the look on his face turning incredulous when he saw that it was you. 

Baekhyun had always been a better swordsman. Every time you had asked him to help you train, it always ended with him pinning you down. But right now, you couldn’t afford to lose. You simply couldn’t.

“You just had to come and ruin everything,” He grunted, countering with a parry. You blocked it, your swords sliding against each other. You pushed him back, breathing heavily. 

“I’m not gonna let you destroy this place,” You answered. He let out a scoff.

“What are you gonna do, huh? You never miss a shot,” Baekhyun growled, “And yet you missed me. What is it, honey, still got a soft spot for me?” 

Your swords met again, your arms buckling with the strain. You couldn’t meet his eyes, you realized as your eyes filled with tears.

“We have you outnumbered. Call off the attack now,” You pleaded, sounding too desperate for your own good, “It’s not too late, Baek—”

“Oh, darling, I’m not stopping, not until I destroy all of it. Not if I have to burn—” His sword slashed forward, barely missing you as he roared, “—The entire Spearwood to the ground, not if I have to burn down all of Ironbend to get rid of every piece of fucking vermin in this place.”

You stepped forward, tears burning your dry eyes, and that was your mistake. In your attempt to parry, he sidestepped you, knocking you to the ground with a harsh shove. Your blade fell out of your hand, landing in the snow.

As you fell to the ground, you met Baekhyun’s gaze for the first time since your swords clashed. You were surprised to find tears streaking down his face, as well. His eyes looked like that of a wild animal, bewildered and desperate as he lifted his sword, ready to come down at you.

“And if I have to kill you too, my love?” He let out a single humorless laugh, a sad, cold smile gracing his beautifully twisted features, “So be it.” 

Your eyes squeezed shut as his sword began to fall, curling into yourself as you did. You didn’t want your last sight of the man you once loved to be this distorted image of him, drunk on the pursuit of power. All you wanted was the end.

Only, the end never came. Not in the way you expected it to, at least. Because a split second later, you heard Baekhyun gasp, and a deep, guttural groan came from above you. 

Your eyes snapped open, face contorting into an expression of horror as you saw the tip of Baekhyun’s sword peeking out of Chanyeol’s back, dripping blood. You watched as Chanyeol lurched forward, Baekhyun pulling off the mask, glaring up at his long lost brother with what you could only describe as bitter rage.

“You look just like the old man,” He muttered spitefully, “Go figure.”

Chanyeol didn’t answer, groaning out before coughing. Blood spilled from his lips. 

Your heart began to pound, and all of the noise around you seemed to fade into nothingness. All you could focus on was the blood staining Chanyeol’s tattered shirt a dark red, dripping onto your pants and his white pelt. The only noise you could hear was your own labored breathing and your blood roaring in your ears, not feeling the trembling in your necrotic arm.

You barely even registered the ear shattering wail that echoed across the battlefield, inky black tearing at your skin as they branched out everywhere. Your eyes rolled up back into your head, your body convulsing. 

You didn’t see the way they wrapped around every being within a thirty meter radius, squeezing with a vengeance. You didn’t see the way the wolves, who were on the other side of the battlefield stopped in awe to watch as you attempted to destroy everything in your path. You didn’t see Baekhyun get ripped away from Chanyeol, getting lifted some ten feet into the air as his eyes widened in terror, because he had only ever seen you hold back one of these fits. You didn’t see the few men who weren’t in your grip freeze, only able to watch as men and animals alike struggled to free themselves from you. 

You didn’t see. But Chanyeol did. He watched as all of this happened in less than ten seconds, before one tendril pulled out the sword, causing him to tumble to the ground right next to you. He fell to his hands and knees, wheezing and spitting out more blood that fell from his mouth.

When he managed to register what was going on, he crawled over to you, one hand pressing down on a rapidly bleeding stab wound he couldn’t even feel due to the adrenaline rushing through his body. He watched as your hand bent back and forth, contorting impossibly. Cringing at the sound of the cracking bones and your incessant screaming, he leaned over you and reached out his free hand. 

If this didn’t stop, you would kill everyone and everything in your grip and get yourself killed in the process. He grabbed your free hand with all the strength he could muster, trying to ignore the stiffness in your joints. His fingers tried to get your own fingers to grip the opal on your necklace, but nothing happened. 

“Please,” He wheezed, “Please, Y/N.”

With your cries ringing in his ears, he ripped his hand from the stab wound and touched your necklace, staining your neck red as he did, before bringing your hand to his neck, from where a second opal was dangling. His necklace, the one you had returned to him only an hour or so prior.

He coughed, cringing again as blood splattered across your face. “I’ve got you,” He croaked, “That—that night, when you asked me to make it stop, Y/N, I’m—I’m here, I’m trying. Please.”

Your screaming began to quiet, and his voice dropped to a panicked whisper. “Pl—please, Y/N. Please.”

He knew it must have taken less than a few seconds, but it truly did seem like an eternity to him. The tendrils recoiled back into your arm, letting go of all of the creatures you’d had in your grip. Baekhyun fell into the snow a few feet away from you, the wind knocked out of him. Your screaming stopped, and your bones snapped into place, but your sobs didn’t stop, not as your body wracked with pain as the aftershocks kicked in. 

The shock wore off on the remaining men within a minute or so, most of them beginning to flee north, dropping their weapons as they went. Jongdae came forward, already having guided an unconscious Minseok onto his reindeer. “Baekhyun, we have to go now.”

Baekhyun looked up, breathing unevenly. “No, not before I kill h—”

“There’s no time!” Jongdae barked hurriedly. “He’s gonna die anyway, look at what you did to him. And the more you stay, especially after everyone heard what you said about burning Ironbend to the ground, the worse it’s gonna be for you. So get on the damn reindeer, now.” 

Baekhyun faltered, sneering before hurrying onto the reindeer. Your eyes cracked open as Jongdae got on the third reindeer, and they rode off north, presumably to lick their wounds and try and explain everything to the council.

You looked up, just as Chanyeol toppled over on top of you. You ignored the screaming in your arms and the tension in your jaw as you rolled the pair of you over, eyes brimming with tears again when the smell of blood hit your nose. 

He looked so pale, beneath you. Your hands pulled his head gently onto your lap, before one of them began cradling his head. The other tried desperately to press down on the wound, but the stiffness in your arms didn’t help much.

“You can’t die like this,” You whispered hoarsely, “I just came back.”

He managed to quip a smile. “You’ll be alright,” He crooned, one hand limply. “It’s—it’s your turn now, to ride with my br—my brothers.”

“No,” You begged.

Chanyeol! You both turned your heads as the four brothers in question ran up to the both of you.

“Hey,” Chanyeol murmured, as if he wasn’t bleeding out beneath you, “That wasn’t... very fun. I… I don’t wanna do that again.”

You idiot, Junmyeon said, voice trembling, the usual chastising tone he had now empty. What’s mother gonna say when she finds out you went and got yourself killed?

You can’t die, you ass, Sehun added. You can’t.

He’s not going to. 

Your head snapped up, just in time to watch two figures leap into view, a third lumbering behind them, a fourth flying overhead. Quickly, just as everyone else registered that it was the gods, your head bowed in respect.

Beval landed on a branch overhead, the fog clearing. Selyne and Emyr stopped before you, as Mirren began to round up the remaining animals, directing them across the stream.

Chanyeol, Selyne murmured, tone anxious. You never would have expected that from her. What have you done?

“What I had to do to keep you all safe,” He answered, meeting the she-wolf’s gaze. His eyes moved to look at Emyr. 

“My king. I’m sorry for all the loss the forest has felt today.”

Emyr shook his head.  It will mourn, but it will forever be grateful for the sacrifice you all made to keep it safe. We will honor you. Heroes, all of you.

You were trembling as you kept your head down, trying to memorize each corner of his face. Every mole, every blemish, every eyelash.

Even you, Y/N.

Your head snapped up, meeting the gaze of the deer god with your tearful eyes. “Th-thank you, great king,” You replied, “But we only did what was right.”

Indeed. But I do believe you deserve more than honor. You’ve sacrificed much. Daresay, I think you’ve proved yourself to me and to the forest.

You didn’t know why your heart sank. Despite this being what you set out to do, you didn’t feel victorious. “Oh,” You murmured, unsure what to say as Chanyeol shifted his head below you.

Oh? Selyne quipped, You’re being bestowed a gift by a god and that’s all you can say?

“I don’t want it,” You blurted, more tears running down your face. You couldn’t control your mouth even if you wanted to, shaking your head. All you could do was weep and stare down at Chanyeol. The light in his eyes seemed to be getting dimmer. “Give it to him, please. He’s done more for this forest than I ever could. Please heal him, my king, please.”

Fascinating. You would allow yourself to die if it meant that Chanyeol would live?

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Chanyeol whispered. You shook your head at him, before nodding at Emyr. 

“Yes, absolutely, yes. Without a doubt. Please don’t let him die.”

What would happen to us if I, as the king of this forest, simply allowed all of my subjects to live in their time of dying? Maybe this is for the best, child. This is his fate.

“No, I can’t let that happen!”

Why not?

“Because I love him. Please, please don’t let him die.”

Emyr stared at you for a long time. Until finally, he gave you the closest thing a deer could give to a smile. Very well, he agreed. You’ve learned, girl. You’ve let go of your pride and you have sacrificed everything you previously had for our home. I will heal him… and I will heal you, as well. You’ve earned it. Both of you.

You sighed in relief, slumping over Chanyeol. The deer god approached you both, before pressing something akin to a kiss on your forehead, and then doing the same thing to Chanyeol’s hand. 

 For a moment, nothing happened. But then, your body seemed to sing as it jumped into the air of its own accord, Chanyeol right next to you. You watched as the wound began to close, before you felt the sensation of a weight being lifted off of your shoulders. Your eyes moved to your arm, watching as it returned to its natural color, the scars of the bite Sehun had given you fading. 

You landed on your feet, managing to catch Chanyeol before he fell to the ground. He groaned, slinging his arm around your shoulder. 

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” He admitted, “But I’ll live.” 

He faced Emyr. “Thank you, my king. I can never fully repay you for what you’ve done.”

So long as you continue to protect us as you have all your life, consider your debt repaid. 

You bowed your own head in respect. “Thank you. I promise to protect the forest until the day I die.” 

I never would have expected it to end this way, Selyne said. I never thought I would thank you for saving my son and protecting me.

You looked at Chanyeol, who smiled weakly at you.

Um, I hate to ruin the mood, Kyungsoo mumbled, But they didn’t actually surrender. They retreated. They’ll be back. What’ll we do then?

Your smile faded, heaving a deep sigh. Baekhyun was still out there, currently on his way back to Ironbend—but he wouldn’t get off easily for essentially leading 120 men on what as basically a suicide mission and getting more than half of them killed. And he would definitely get in trouble for what he told you about being willing to burn Ironbend to the ground. 

With luck, this would mean severe consequences for him. His reputation would likely suffer, and he might even get booted from the council. But now that you were gone, who was left to govern after your father passed away? You could only hope someone like Yixing would pass on to lead. 

Truthfully, you weren’t sure how to answer. But in your silence, Chanyeol spoke up, reaching for one of your hands and squeezing it tightly.

“We’ll be alright,” He said, “Come what may—we’ll be alright.” 

taglist: @delightpcy​ @chanyeolscoon​ @xxbluestrifexx​ @imsoba​ @chogiwhy127​ @always-wishing-for-rain @riajae​

#exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo au #exo angst #exo smut #exo fluff #byun baekhyun x reader #park chanyeol x reader #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun angst #chanyeol angst #chanyeol fluff #kpop angst #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop imagines #my writing

[elriel-oblivion]

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

__

Feedback's welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17 @a-happybird @thewayshedreamed @sleeping-and-books @thefangirlofhp @januarystears @courtofjurdan @ladylochan

#elain archeron #Azriel #elriel #elain x azriel #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[mxpseudonym]

Just Good Business IV

Pairing: Tommy x Reader

Reader Gender Expression: She/Her pronouns, “wife”

Summary: After Tommy has to put down his horse, you want him to lean on you for once.

Length: 2080 words (allegedly)

Warnings: animal death, cursing, and as usual, underlying tones of forced/arranged marriage

A/N: It’s my bday so I decided to post this part today! I hope you like it, it’s been a journey. I’m going 

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part V

--

You weren't what your mother would call nurturing or sentimental. 

Not that you didn't know how to love or take care. You'd just rather live life as freely as you could and not be tied down by attachments to those who don't love you as much as you love them or worrying about keeping a house. Your mother said it wasn't becoming, and men would be turned away. You wished she would have warned you instead. That when there was the right person, one you'd do just about anything for, you can be the thing you never thought you could be, just for them. 

It had been the better part of a year, and you were still learning that marriage was simple in definition, but by no means easy. Tommy only made that more accurate. He was driven and focused at work, which made you better at your job as well. You were making a name for yourself as a partnership, and things were as thrilling as ever at home. Tommy talked to you and let you in little by little. It wasn't something you asked for, but it did make you do the same. Even after knowing each other for a mere year and a half, you knew each other reasonably well. Which was why you were pacing in your bedroom, arms wrapped around yourself to stop you from biting your nails. You had asked Tommy not to leave earlier,  but he wouldn't listen to you or anyone. 

"Tom, please," you pleaded, placing yourself between him and the door. 

"Y/n,"

"Just let them do it. Let the stable hand take care of it, okay?" You asked. You thought you had him for a moment, but his eyes lowered, and he stepped around you.

"She's my horse, y/n. My horse that got sick, my horse to see through 'til the end." 

It had been hours, longer than was necessary. But it was in Tommy's nature as Romani man to go deep into the land on your property when he was upset. He'd done it before. Johnny Dogs was the one who told you that there wasn't anything to worry about, even if Tommy spent the night out there. It didn't take a professional to know that Tommy could only bottle so much up before he erupted, though. You were on a secret mission to get him to come to you instead sometimes. 

The echo of the door slamming knocked you out of your head and nearly sent you running to the foyer. It only took a few moments for him to be at your bedroom door. 

Tommy came in with just his socks, the muddy boots in hand were placed by the door. He looked you over but said nothing as he went to the restroom, closing the door behind him. You sighed and hung your head. So it wouldn't be straightforward. It didn't take long for him to wash up. You were just finishing putting on your own pajamas when he finally sat on the edge of the bed.

"How did the meeting with the Commissioner go?" Tommy asked. You walked up to him, ignoring his means of changing the subject by silently wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I'm so sorry you had to do it," you told him in his ear. He tightened the hug and buried his face in your neck. "Whatever you need."

"I need," Tommy began, pulling out of the embrace after a few long moments, "I need to know how your meeting went." 

Your comforting eyes met his desperate ones. This was how he was, and there was how you had to take him. You made your way across the room to where your notebook sat on the side table. 

"Of course. It went well, and I took notes for you this time."

It was 3:30 in the morning when you were sharply woken up by Tommy's yell and shooting straight up in bed.

"Fuck," you swore and placed a hand over your thumping chest. You turned on your lamp to see Tommy wide-eyed and sweating. 

"It's fine," his voice was hoarse as he ran a hand through his hair. He put a shaking hand on your leg to stop your fretting. You stroked his cheek anyway. 

"It's not fine, love, and that's okay," you assured. "I'm going to run a bath." 

"No," he gasped, still coming down from his terrifying high. "It's late." 

"It'll be good, promise. Let's just try, alright?" 

The steam of the bath filled the room, and swirled around the curls of cigarette smoke. The French lullaby you sang bounced off the white tile walls, pausing only momentarily when you took your cigarette in your mouth. You continued, reaching your hand forward to place it between Tommy's lips. He took over smoothly like it was what he was meant to do, and stroked the legs you had wrapped around him in gratitude. Asking for a bathtub you could swim in really came in handy, you thought with Tommy's back pressed against your chest in hot water. When you finished the tune, your arms wrapped around Tommy's shoulders, and you buried your face in his neck. 

"What do you dream about?" You asked. There were nights when his mumbling or twisting and turning woke you, but it was all brushed away with "the war." This wasn't the first time you'd asked, but it was the first time you had an advantage. If stopping Tommy from driving out into the darkness meant pulling him into the bath and wrapping your limbs around him to keep him there, you'd happily oblige. 

"I hear the shovels coming for me. They're loud, and they keep me up at night. When I sleep, I'm digging. I hear the shovels, the men, I see the darkness. There's nothing, no end or beginning. I'm somewhere between being alive and dead, but I don't know if I'll wake up again," he said it like he said everything. Straight to the point and methodical. "Today with Thunder, putting an end to her like that, just put my mind in a bad way."

"Is it the same dream every time?" You asked. It was. Which was a shame. Tommy, one of the most capable people you knew, was to live out his life as a terrifying metaphor. 

"Always will be," he concluded. 

"Always and never, they're liars more often than not," you told him. "And you belong to me now, so if you can talk to yourself in those dark tunnels of your mind, remind yourself that if you open your eyes, you'll have someone waiting for you." 

"Gonna fight my demons for me, are you?" Tommy chuckled. You couldn't help but join.

"Of course, if I get the chance." You kissed his cheek, and Tommy sunk even deeper into your embrace. 

"I don't know why I can't shake it. Seeing horses die stays with me." 

"You don't know?" You peered down at him. "It's because you're one of them."

"How can you tell?" 

"You're gallant like a horse, even who you don't want the medals. You've shown me how strong you are without using your hands. You're as much fire as you are ice, which is beautiful, like a horse."

You slid your hand over Tommy's chest to rest over the tattoo there. Under your palm, his heart thumped away.

"Your heart beats like a horse, a wild stallion who's made himself race. But a stallion that only races himself doesn't know when or how to stop. He will run so hard and so fast for so long that his heart will burst if he isn't careful."

"I don't know how you can see things in me like you do, y/n. I just know you're making everything better." Tommy clasped your hand and pressed his lips against your wrist.

You kissed his shoulders and any part of him you could reach for the short remainder of the soak. You were more than willing to stay up with Tommy, but your body was so tired it made you sick. With Tommy's head on your chest, however, you slept fully to the next morning. Your eyes fluttered open as you registered the light stroking sensation on your cheek. 

"Good morning," Tommy greeted you. Your groggy voice delivered an identical, albeit near unintelligible reply. Part of you wanted to tell him to sleep more, but you could feel Tommy hesitate. You allowed your eyes to flutter open to reveal Tommy resting on his elbow next to you. He looked down at you, clearly lost in thought behind those blue eyes. 

"I love you."

You could feel your eyebrows crease. Was this a dream? The words hung in the air, impending and waiting for you to reply with something just as sweet.

"What?" You asked, no room for elegance. 

"Fuck 'good business.' I don't care about any of that. I love you."

"Oh," you eventually stammered. "Why would you say that?" 

You tried to find the words, but in your sleepy haze, you chose the first words that came to mind. Tommy leaned forward, disappointment evident in his eyes, and kissed your forehead. 

"It's alright. I just want you to know," Tommy said, then climbed out of bed. You heard him head out of the door, which shook you awake enough to get up. 

"Thomas Shelby!" You yelled from the top of the stairs, just as he'd reached the foyer. He turned in his dressing gown and raised an eyebrow at you, only in your pajamas. "What the hell? Thomas, I," 

"It's alright, y/n. You don't have to say anything." 

"Would you stop? You know I hate it when you interrupt me," you scolded him. Tommy mumbled an apology then waited for you to continue.

"Listen, you surprised me. I just woke up for christ's sake. I didn't ask why you said it because I don't feel the same. I just wonder if you'd say that if we weren't married." 

"What do you mean?" He asked with his own brow creasing. 

"I don't cook or clean. I'm not sweet or easy to swallow. Believe me, I do enjoy myself quite a bit. But sometimes I wonder, if you hadn't been made to marry me, would you have found on your own that," you sighed, "I'm not someone you'd want to be with." 

You looked to your bare feet and took a breath. Being this emotional so early in the morning was not your speed. After a moment, you heard a soft chuckle growing in volume to become a full laugh. Tommy stood in the foyer, shoulders shaking and cheeks flushing. He made his way up to you on the landing and pressed the back of his hand against your cheeks then forehead. 

"Are you ill, Mrs?" Tommy asked, making you roll your eyes. 

"Tom, please." 

"You're talking nonsense, y/n. Polly told me to find a wife, but I'm the one who suggested it be you, alright? Your reputation proceeds you, love. Stepping into negotiations for your brother and conducting impressive business. That night we met only confirmed it. Every day since that dinner, you have kept me on my toes, and I love it. I love you."

You felt your cheeks warm, and you let out a laugh. 

"I fucking knew you liked me."

"Unbelievable." Tommy rolled his eyes, but let you throw your arms around his neck and plant a proper kiss on his lips.

"I love you too, how's that?"

"If you're just saying that to appease me, you don't have to." 

"When is it that I go around saying things I don't mean?" You asked firmly then kissed him again. 

"Good, then I have something to ask." Tommy lowered himself on one knee, anchoring himself by holding your waist. "Will you, with no deals or debts on the table, marry me and be my wife?" 

It occurred to you that you hadn't gotten a marriage proposal at all, especially not one from the heart. Who said Tommy couldn't be romantic? "I don't know how my husband is going to feel about that. I've heard he's quite in love with me," you said, hands running through his hair. Tommy smirked but nodded in approval. "Yes, I will marry you. But only if you'll marry me too."

"I'll have to ask my wife," Tommy said, standing and wrapping you in his arms. You reached up and kissed him once more. 

"She approves." 

..

Tommy Tag List: @soleil-dor;  @amysteryspot​

JGB Series Tag List: @biba3434 ; l0tsofpennies

#tommy shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders Imagine #Just Good Business #Tommy Shelby

[whump-town]

Moments Too Late

In honor of spending too much time on my own Universities quad because of the nice weather (which is promptly going to shit because it’s going to be cold again Monday) and because of @olivinesea college AU I give you...

The false promises of March lure them from the comforts of their dorms. Each morning now a little warmer, the sun beaming down forgiving and loving as it’s not the quiet time for it to swelter down great beams of heat that melts clothes off the skin off muscles off bones. Today it heats the ground, enough to encourage them out of their shoes to feel the still slightly chilled nature of the not yet up to pace earth beneath their toes.

Derek laughs deeply, unabashedly as he chases Spencer along the grass. Seemingly all the more pleased the louder he can get the younger boy to screech in terror as Derek pins his thin arms in contorted positions as they wrestle. The only mediation, the only warnings they get, comes when JJ looks up from her textbook. More often to tuck strands of hair behind her ears than to break from her reading. “Don’t hurt him, Derek,” she warns. Not because she’s afraid he will but to continue these halves of theirs. Where she stands to allow Spencer this idea that she will step in if need be.

“The winter,” Emily says softly. “I think the winter depresses him.” She’s laid out on the jacket Dave spread out on the ground before them. He’d given a little “hmph” of disapproval but not altogether displeasure when she laid herself out on it. Her legs break out in rashes and the shorts she’d chosen to wear leave her too exposed to rest comfortably in it.

Dave rests back on his elbows, chest lifted to take in all the rays of the sun that he can. He cracks open his left eye, scowling over at her as he processes what she’s just said. The raised eyebrow of doubt -- of further need for contemplation and clarification on the generally just vague statement she’s just made -- goes unnoticed as she watches Aaron. Dave’s eyes follow suit and while he might not understand the full complexity of what it is that she means, he might be able to gather what she sees.

“Winter depression?” he whispers. There’s no way that Aaron could be anything but… well, Aaron. By definition, that means dark and spirally with a complexity not a single soul, at least Dave suspects, knows him in his entirety. They are all bound by bits and pieces, half-truths that they have put together like children and those little cheap boxes that are covered half-hazardously in Elmer’s glue and macaroni shells.

Aaron lays out on his back, eyes closed and more relaxed than they’ve ever seen him. Shoulders sinking into the ground and limbs open. His ankles set aligned with his hips and shoulders. Palms up, a sunflower turned to face the warmth. He can feel the heat crawling up his body, nearly too warm with the sweater on his arms and the jeans that don’t quite fit the length of his legs. Softly, he clears his throat doesn’t even bother cracking an eye open as he says, “the word the two of you are looking for is seasonal and I’m not, nor have I ever been, depressed.”

Though Dave shoots Emily a look that says it all -- leave resting snakes to lie, don’t poke a bear you’re not ready to kill -- she sits up and observes him further. Letting his head thud against the dirt, Dave lets her poke that hornet’s nest knowing he’ll be the one to soothe Aaron’s buzzing anxiety and pull the stingers from Emily’s skin.

“You locked yourself in your room for two weeks,” she reminds him. As if she wasn’t the dead girl in the freshmen dormitory wrapped around a toilet and sent to the emergency room where they know her by name. Where they take turns picking her up in the lobby, waving to the doctor’s as she signs out against their advice with her arm still bleeding where she pulled too harshly, too angrily at the IV snaked under her flesh. Who is she to point fingers at his oddity? At least he can go a weekend without visiting the bottle.

The two weeks in question were from hell. He’d been with them Tuesday, present in a way that they reflected on as oddly so. They also thought he’d killed himself, a theory started by JJ too good to pass up so their application might be flawed. For two weeks, there was nothing but radio silence from him. His dorm was empty and they couldn’t even find him in the library, a place they more often than not have to drag him from.  He didn’t show up until Thursday, so he was actually gone for sixteen-days, and looked like maybe he had died and dragged his corpse all the way back to them.

Not yet adults and very much the children raised by their parent’s hips, how could they not think in the extremes that they have known their entire lives? Too young to know the complexities of the life ahead of them but too damaged to ignore it. JJ knows what her sister did and Derek could feel his father’s blood hardening on his hands, could understand and see what JJ was telling them.

One. Talking about wanting to die or to kill oneself; Eyes closed and back sinking further and further into the blankets behind him. Nearly unaware of how close they all are, of the hand on his knee or the shoulder on his hip. “It would be nice… I think,” he whispers. “No stress. No obligations. Like sleeping.” He doesn’t sleep well.

Two. Talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose; The warmth of his eyes has frozen over, the helpless desperation that he feels bubbling over. The carefully orchestrated faux look he’s spent years building burns at his feet. Leaving behind the broken child that he is at his core, searching for something that makes sense. For a father that loves him and a mother that protects him. “It doesn’t matter what I do,” he rasps. “Nothing matters because all I do is fuck everything up.”

Three. Sleeping too little or too much; He pulls from the hand that JJ gently reaches out with, flinching. “I -- I just don’t sleep well,” he defends, avoiding her eyes when she tries to look harder. To really see how pale he’s become. “It’s just -- just insomnia.” Nightmares are what he means but twenty-year-olds shouldn’t have that kind of horror built up into them so he lies. It’s easier that way.

Three strikes. You’re out but… they just couldn’t find a body. Dave had told them about how old dogs will drag themselves away from their homes to die and Spencer had cried for hours after that. Maybe that seemed a little too on the nose, Aaron being compared to an old beaten dog. They yelled at Dave out of fear but knew he was right.

Then Aaron just showed up to campus Thursday, a lump of human underneath his comforter as if he’d been there the entire time.

“We couldn’t find you for two weeks, Aaron. That’s -- That’s crazy, even for you.”

JJ looks up from her textbook, sees Dave, and looks back down. She’s certain that they’re about to have to deal with one of Emily and Aaron’s nuclear fallouts.  With hindsight, she can see how that’s been festering up. Every semester they have one of these martial spats, bad enough to leave Spencer (who loves nothing more than to be one of their shadows) afraid to be left alone with either for a few days. Rightfully so, Aaron gets a little dark and Emily never pulls her punches, it’s a scary thing to witness.

“My father died.” The group freezes for a moment. Spencer and Derek’s wrestling had died down, both watching Aaron and Emily. He’s sitting up now, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “My father died and it wasn’t any of your business.” Emily opens her mouth but he’s shaking, having opened something not so easily contained. He doesn’t know how to put it all back. “Sean called, what was I to do, Emily? Would you prefer I tell a scared nine-year-old to fuck off?”

He wanted to. Despite how scared Sean had been, how small he’d sounded sucking in little sobs. Aaron lost his father ten years ago but he couldn’t tell Sean that. He’d gone out of obligation and the strange weighted sense that this might be the last time he truly sees his little brother. And he couldn’t know it yet but it’d be the last time he saw his mother too.

“I wasn’t out mixing my name up with Jack Daniels.”

Well…  it was only a matter of time.

She stands first, fist clenched at her sides. “We’re your friends, we would have been there. You’re just too much of an insufferable bastard to notice!” She seethes good and properly angry. Misplaced but firm. “If you spent half as much time locking yourself away, pretending to be someone you’re not--” She pulls in a deep shuttering breathe. “Everyone knows, you know? All of us. We’ve seen the scars.” She’s not sure if it’s what she wanted but he flinches as though he’s been hit and that’s not enough to stop her. “Do you think we wouldn’t notice the flinching? That we can’t touch you? You’re not as good as you think you are, Aaron, and we’re not stupid.”

Silence.

Emily always knows what to say.

“Ex-Excuse me.”

Penelope comes up just as Aaron’s stumbling to his feet, pale as a ghost and trembling. He nearly runs into her. “What’s--” she’s brought them snacks. Little pieces of fruit she’s painstakingly cut for this little snack. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and mumbles another “excuse me” and tears past her.

Penelope looks hopelessly at them, confused and hurt. She turns, watching Aaron stagger and wipe furiously at his eyes. “What… What did you do?” She looks back and forth, settling on Emily. Penelope watches tears gather in Emily’s eyes, her lower lip trembling.

“Oh God,” she whispers, hands raising to her lips. Emily looks over at Dave and to JJ, Spencer, and Derek still watching in terror. Her own words coming back to her, funneling through moments too late. “Oh God, what did I do?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia

[tracycameron]

The year was 2016......

2016 started off rough for me. New Year's was spent with Bronchitis. They say how you bring in the year is what was going to lay out the rest of the year and by June, this couldn't have been more real for me.

As many of you know, I was the Race Director for a 5k put on at the Urology practice where I was working. The week of the event, I was not feeling myself. I sat at a packet pick-up 2 days prior at a local runner store, running in and out of the bathroom with a migraine. "you want your bag... um, hold please while I go vomit first. BRB." The following day, wasn't much better and I was sent home to recover while my co-workers handled it. Now-- what you may not know is I'm a slight control freak, so leaving this alone to go recover made my skin crawl. It was no surprise when I showed up a few hours later to check in. I have issues, I know. And of course they were fine. I however had no idea what was to come on race day.

The event starts off great! Everyone is having fun, the band is playing, people are drinking, and I am going down real quick. I was taking into the office, brought into a patient room and given 2 bags of IV fluids. Did that stop me? Hell no. While on the 2nd bag of fluids, I grabbed the IV pole and walked back outside to help with awards. My dedication to the event was more important to me. I was raising money for prostate cancer and I felt like I needed to show my face. When I tell you I'm crazy, this is what I mean. I ended up in the hospital that night diagnosed with pneumonia. That's truly how sick I was and looking back I know that sometimes its okay to take that break.

Cut to July. It is my in-laws 40th anniversary and we are headed to Mexico. It was beautiful. The sun, the warmth, my husband getting drunk at the swim up bar and falling into the pool. I'm telling ya, magical. Half way through the trip though, I did not feel well, yet again. Shocking, I know. I thought I had a urinary tract infection. For those that don't know, the urgency, frequency, burning sensation every 2-3 minutes to use the bathroom is awful. I went to bed that night, hoping it would resolve. I woke up shaking. Like it's 90 degrees at 3am and I am in my sweat pants, hoodie, 3 blankets and cuddled up so close to Jay to get warm. I stayed like this for 2 days before we flew home. We landed, I came in my house, went to bed and woke up and went to the ER. I had a stone. Hoorah! Not really. It was stuck. There wasn't one, there were 7 and I was septic. I didn't realize how bad I was and I spent the next week laid up in the hospital. I finally said enough is enough.

Why am I saying all this to you? This was my breaking point. I was tried of being tired. I was tried of being sick and I was wanting to do something for myself. So, I dove into a Beachbody program. I gave myself 21 days to 'fix' myself. I worked out, I portion controlled, and I was strict with the plan. And it worked. I lost weight. And I felt better. And people noticed. And friends wanted to join and do it with me. I was excited. I jumped right into teaching my friends what I was doing. We talked daily, we let our guards down with each other, and together we were encouraging each other to keep going.

I lost a total of 40-45lbs over a 6 month period. I started coaching and had a team of 55 working out with me and I was starting to make some money doing this. I got so wrapped up though in helping my team, that I stopped helping myself. My phone was pinging constantly that I would stop my work out to talk to someone. Or I would get to talking to someone that I forgot to meal prep and was hitting up a drive-thru. How could I continue to coach people when I couldn't coach myself? What I learned from this was the success was celebrated and celebrated a lot, but when you needed the break, when you needed the time-out to refocus, the success and the 'friendships' you made became a distant memory. And I no longer wanted to be a part of it. I feel back into my old habits and well, here I am, 8 years later. No matter how many times, I tried to jump back into the program that worked for me back then, I could not get back into that same routine. I'm older, hormones change, metabolism changes, blah blah blah.

Everyone has their own version of what works for them and what doesn't. And some people might not understand the journey that has taken me to this point, but it's mine and mine alone. I know what I am doing is right for me and in the long run, I will be a much better person for it. Until then.....

I'm fine. It's fine. Everything's fine.

[artificialqueens]

By Your Side (Biadore) - Candy Cane

A/N: just a oneshot based off of a prompt sent in that asked for bianca finding out abt adore’s onlyfans! its not quite that tbh but the words take me where they want to go lol please enjoy!! <3 theres some other things ive been trying to work on but its slow going rn as my cat is very sick and a lot of my time and energy has been dedicated to him, but i hope to get more out soon!

It’s only been a few months into quarantine when Adore finds herself on the phone with one of her oldest friends. Like, old physically not old as in how long they’ve known each other. But to be fair, there aren’t a ton of people she’s been friends with longer than she’s been friends with Bianca. Courtney and Darienne too for that matter.

She loves Bianca. Their friendship is something precious to her, and surprisingly this is only the second phone call they’ve had since quarantine has started. They talk basically every day through texts, and that’s on top of the hours they spend going back and forth in the ABCD group chat with Courtney and Darienne. The four of them have something special, all of them realize that. There’s just something specifically between her and Bianca that Adore’s never really been able to place her finger on.

Out of the blue this morning Bianca simply… called her. Adore spends a full moment staring at the CallerID trying to figure out where the fuck this is coming from. With an uncertain frown, she answers the phone, hanging upside down off the side of her bed of course.

“So… OnlyFans? Seriously?” Bianca asks incredulously, her voice crackling over the phone speaker.

What a way to start a conversation after not hearing each other’s voices for like a month! Even though Adore can’t see her face, she can practically hear the raised eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” Adore laughs, unable to help smiling at Bianca’s playful accusations.

“Not that I’m mad, but why fucking OnlyFans? Aren’t bitches doing podcasts now?”

“I’m bored, okay? There’s not a lot to do but drink and masturbate, and drinking hasn’t really been doing it for me lately. Plus, I gotta make money somehow,” Adore grumbles through an explanation, lifting herself up and sprawling out on her bed awkwardly.

“Do I need to set up an intervention? You know I will,” Bianca says with faux seriousness, “Seriously though, if you need some help…”

Adore frowns down at her phone. She hates pity, she hates unnecessary worry, and she definitely hates burdening people with her bullshit.

“B, I’m fine, I promise,” she says earnestly, “I guess I just… I miss you. A lot. And we can’t see each other right now and it fucking sucks and I’m really lonely-”

“Come over.”

“What? I can’t, B, we’re quarantined…”

“When’s the last time you left your apartment?”

“Uhh, I dunno, maybe a month ago?’ Adore answers, unsure of where Bianca is going with this.

“Okay, that’s well over two weeks. Come hang out with me for a few days, get some human interaction, I’ve been needing it myself. I haven’t gone out or seen anyone for a few weeks now,” Bianca admits, and Adore feels suddenly giddy.

It’s been so long since she’s seen someone, since she’s even gotten a hug, and she really wants to see Bianca…

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” Adore agrees, not even thinking twice about it.

Bianca is everything to her. This person was one of the first to really take her seriously, to really see something in her, and Adore doesn’t know where she’d be without her. Every time something goes wrong, her first instinct is to call Bianca. Everytime something amazing happens, her first instinct is to call Bianca. They’ll spend hours talking or texting just because and Adore wouldn’t have it any other way.

They are as good together as PB&J, or peanut butter and celery, or peanut butter and pretzels… And Adore realizes she is feeling very snacky, specifically for peanut butter. With a sigh she rolls off her bed to get a snack before she starts packing for the next week.

The point is Adore loves Bianca, and Danny loves Roy. Sure maybe it’s in a different way than they should, or even once did, but it can’t be helped. It can be hidden, though. And Danny is more than fine with hiding this secret, as long as they get to have Roy in their life at all. He’s more than what Danny should ever even hope for, and yet a part of them can’t help but hope.

After spending so much time apart, Danny knows it’ll be harder now than ever to hide these feelings they’ve been harboring for Roy. They’ll try though, because sometimes the thought of this man loving them back is all that keeps them going.

Danny arrives at Roy’s beautiful new house in Palm Springs at nearly noon the next day. Which, to be fair, is very much the morning for Danny. They even woke up early to make the trip! …If ten a.m. counts as early in any book except their own.

Roy is already standing out in the driveway waiting for Danny when they get there, his arms spread wide for a hug the second Danny gets out of their car. The younger practically rocket launches themself into his arms, clinging tight to him as they savor the first hug they’ve gotten in such a long fucking time. Danny can’t help the tears that fall at finally having such warm, loving human contact, especially from this person.

They hold onto each other as tight as they can, each beyond glad to have each other’s trust in such unreliable times. Being alone for so long had hit Roy hard too. Alcohol and binge watching can really only do so much, and he’s genuinely been feeling lonely being stuck in one spot for so long. The dogs help some, but at the end of the day it really doesn’t replace human interaction, no matter how hard he wishes it did.

“I missed you, baby girl,” Roy says, and Danny can almost hear his voice waver.

“I missed you too,” Danny whispers, trying and failing to hold back a sob.

They leave Danny’s bag in the car for now, much more eager to go sit down and enjoy each other’s company. The dogs bombard the two of them the second Danny crosses the threshold, the enby leaning instantly down to kiss and coo at the babies and Roy can’t help grinning widely at the sight. He loves his babies, and he loves his baby girl.

They spend the afternoon talking and laughing and playing with the dogs. Danny clearly gets some ideas about the golf cart, and Roy is suddenly excited about the upcoming few days. It’s been a while since either of them have really had something to look forward to.

“Alright, I still need you to explain this OnlyFans thing to me,” Roy says with a smirk a few hours later, after they’ve gotten properly settled in on the couch together with the dogs.

Danny’s eyes go wide with slight panic, “Okay, grandpa, it’s like uhhh, Patreon but-”

“No, no, no!” Roy laughs, “I know what it is, I mean why that? Why not literally anything else?”

“First of all, I am sexy. Second of all, I spent a lot of time not making money masturbating, which is a fucking shame because as I said before I am sexy.”

They both crack up at that, giggling like idiots on Roy’s couch, the puppies quickly joining in, yipping at them to be a part of the excitement.

“Awww, do you two think I’m funny?” Danny coos, picking Dede up and cuddling the pup close, “Your daddy doesn’t think I’m funny!”

Roy snorts, “You’ve certainly picked up a thing or two from me.”

“Like how to be a bitter old hermit!” Danny grins sweetly.

“Exactly,” Roy laughs.

“So if I ask really nicely will this bitter old hermit make me food?” Danny asks, batting their eyelashes pleadingly.

“My original plan was to let you starve to death while you were here, but since you’re asking nicely…” Roy says teasingly, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the way the younger throws their head back with laughter.

Late that night, after a long night of talking and watching TV and a decent dinner, they curl up into bed together. At one point they both needed to at least be tipsy to do that, but nowadays that’s just overkill. They have progressed well beyond that point of friendship, though Roy sometimes still likes to put on a show of being annoyed, if only because of the way Danny pouts and rolls their eyes.

Tonight he just holds the thick comforter up so Danny can slide in easily with him, he’s not really interested in making either of them wait longer than they already have for cuddles. In seconds the two are holding each other tight, savoring the touch. As Roy lays there, holding Danny like the younger is his lifeline, he starts to think about the time they’ve known each other. All the ups, downs, and side-to-sides… Danny has grown up a lot over the years they’ve been friends, and it’s hard to deny that it’s changed Roy’s feelings for them.

Once his feelings to the younger were almost motherly, but now it’s closer to attraction. It’s kind of weird, at the least it’s very fucked up. Roy wants to just give in to the feelings, but he can’t. Not when he has no way of gaging Danny’s feelings for him. He can live with this secret, he’s not sure he can live without Danny’s friendship.

Danny interrupts his thoughts, their voice small and curious, “Why were you so invested in my OnlyFans?”

“Bitch, I’m trying to sleep here,” Roy groans.

“No, seriously,” Danny pouts, sitting up in bed and looking down at Roy. The moonlight streaming in from the window highlights the enby perfectly, and Roy curses his luck.

“I don’t want you renting yourself out on the corner like Bunny, now get back to sleep you dumb slut,” Roy says with all of his usual teasing heat.

Danny pouts though, clearly not satisfied, “But…”

“Sleep. Now.” Roy demands, reaching up to tug them back under the covers. Danny reluctantly gives in, and snuggles close to Roy.

Just as Roy is about to fall asleep, Danny’s voice has his eyes flying open.

“Roy?”

“What?”

“I love you,” Danny whispers.

Roy’s heart melts a little at that, “I love you too, Danny.”

Danny bites their lip nervously, “I mean like… I think…”

Roy’s heart starts to beat faster in his chest. Surely they couldn’t mean…

“You think…?” Roy asks, hoping that despite it all this person is about to say what he thinks they are.

“I think I might be… in love,” Danny says, their voice quiet and timid in a way Roy hasn’t heard in a very long time, “With you.”

This time Roy is the one to sit up in bed, staring down at Danny with pure infatuation. Those words echo around his ears, his chest, his very soul, and before he even realizes what he’s doing he’s leaning down to capture Danny’s lips in a kiss.

His lips against theirs feels so undeniably right. Their lips move slowly against each other, Danny brings a hand around to cup the back of Roy’s neck and in that moment nothing is wrong in their own little world. In that moment it’s just them and the moonlight. He thinks that he could live forever in this moment and never need anything else.

They break apart much too soon for either of their tastes, and Roy stares into those pretty eyes and murmurs, “I think I love you too.”

Danny surges forward for another kiss, this one much more desperate than the last. It’s a hot, heavy kiss that ends with Roy flat against the bed and both of Danny’s hands cupping his face as they explore each other. It’s like no kiss either of them have had before, with so many years of emotion and uncertainty between them it’s intense. Bianca and Adore have drunkenly kissed before, but this absolutely cannot compare. Danny whimpers pathetically against Roy, their hips grinding down against Roy’s thigh.

Roy lets out a shaky breath and grips at the enby’s barely covered ass. From the way Danny is squirming and moaning after only a little contact, Roy knows it’s been a while since Danny has been with someone like this. Roy hasn’t been able to get laid in a while either, rendering them both more than eager for this. Neither of them have a sexual partner in their circles right now, except maybe each other. Just this morning that would’ve been an absurd thought, and now it’s simply what makes sense.

Both of them need sexual fulfillment as much as they need emotional fulfillment, and even the thought of providing it for each other is thrilling. Roy grabs Danny’s bottom lip roughly between his teeth, sucking on it as he rubs his hands underneath Danny’s oversized tank top and over their skin. Danny whines and whimpers so deliciously in response, and Roy loves it.

Roy and Danny pull the little clothing that is off one another, each soaking in the familiar sight of the other being completely exposed. It’s nowhere near the first time they’ve seen each other like this, but it’s another one of those things where it’s simply different this time around. Because now it’s been established they love each other as much more than just friends.

Danny sucks hickeys along Roy’s collarbone, moaning roughly as Roy twists their nipples harshly, their bodies so close and warm wrapped up tight together.

“Think… Think I’m gonna get my nipples pierced,” Danny giggles breathlessly before it’s cut off in a moan of sheer pleasure when Roy pinches them even harder.

“Oh really? You’ve done a lot of slutty things, baby girl, but that is definitely up there,” Roy smirks.

Danny smiles innocently, “It would only make your job easier.”

“What? This job?” Roy asks teasingly, then trails his fingers down Danny’s stomach so they ghost over the enby’s half-hard cock.

Danny gasps, and Roy takes the opportunity to press his lips against theirs all over again, sucking their tongue into his mouth as he teases their cock. They moan and whine and squirm, their fingers gripping and squeezing at the flesh of Roy’s back frantically in response. Roy knows that that’s going to leave a mark, despite the fact that their nails are usually kept short. He doesn’t mind though, in fact it makes him harder knowing that he’s the reason Danny is reacting like this.

Danny’s head falls back against the pillow, feeling heat rush to their cheeks upon seeing the smouldering look in Roy’s eyes as they stare up at him. He’s so fucking gorgeous, all his sharpness and softness in just the right places.

“Tell me what you want,” Roy whispers roughly.

Danny inhales shakily, “Want- Wanna feel you-”

“What do you want me to do to you, Danny? Use your words…”

“Fuck me, oh God please just fuck me, holy shit,” Danny begs, squeezing their eyes shut tight and squirming underneath Roy’s tight hold.

“Shh, that’s so good, thank you,” Roy murmurs, caressing Danny’s cheek, “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

And Danny just moans. They’ve wanted this from Roy for so long, and so many years were wasted convincing themself otherwise that this really feels like a fucking dream come true. It’s their own little fairytale, just for the two of them. Danny gets to live this fantasy with Roy, and that thought alone is almost more mind blowing than the idea of getting rammed until they can’t remember their own name.

Roy leans across to riffle through the nightstand, and turns back to Danny with lube, a condom, and a devious grin on his face. Minutes later, Danny is a whimpering, begging mess just from two of Roy’s fingers stretching them open. Roy is clearly enjoying it, whispering dirty things in their ear as he slowly tortures them with his fingers. When he slides in a third finger, Danny lets out the filthiest, most inhuman sound Roy has ever heard.

“You are just so fucking needy,” Roy says lowly, pulling out his fingers and quickly rolling the condom on.

Danny nods feverently, their eager words of agreement being almost incomprehensible. Roy grabs their tiny hips in his large hands and slides himself in. That moment is almost pure magic, the connection that had been simmering for so many years finally coming to a boil. Danny sobs from the mix of emotion and sheer pleasure, throwing their head back and forth, panting and begging for more while Roy closes his eyes and takes it all in.

Danny is incredibly warm and tight around him, and after a minute he begins to thrust shallowly, making Danny’s mindless babbling slur together. His thrusts quickly become harsher, aiming specifically for Danny’s spot, his grip on them tightens and he grabs the enby’s cock and starts to lavish it with some much needed attention.

“OhGodohGodohGodoh-” Danny rambles, pressing their face into the juncture of Roy’s neck and collarbone, inhaling his comforting, familiar scent, “So good, feels so good, don’t stop please don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to stop, shh, I’ve got you, fuck you’re so good,” Roy groans in response, his thrusts speeding up and his fingers around Danny’s cock tightening, “Are you about to cum for me? Huh?”

“Yes, fuck,” Danny rasps, “Yes yes gonna cum Roy please let me cum I’m gonna- gonna-”

Roy pumps his hand a few more times and whispers right in Danny’s ear, “Cum for me like a good girl.”

And Danny is a gonner. They moan high and long, their hips twitch rapidly and their whole body shakes with the force of their orgasm, ropes of cum covering Roy’s hand and both of their abdomens.

Danny practically goes limp in Roy’s hold, and just a few thrusts later Roy is undone as well, unable to help thrusting even harder and deeper into Danny’s body as he does. He falls on top of Danny, breathing heavy and ragged, and they hold each other tight. Danny’s arms still wrapped around Roy’s back when he carefully rolls them onto their sides so that they’re facing each other, nearly nose to nose. He gingerly pulls out of Danny, ties the condom, and throws it into the bin that he knows is next to the bed.

Roy cups their chin with his clean hand and stares into their dazed, half-lidded eyes. Danny blinks slowly, the afterglow beginning to wear off.

“I can’t believe it took us seven years,” Danny murmurs, reaching up to thread their fingers through Roy’s currently long hair.

“It was worth the wait,” Roy smiles softly, “And now we have the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah,” Danny whispers, “I get the rest of my life with you.”

Because for Roy and Danny it’s nowhere near over. For them it’s all only just begun.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #biadore #fluff #smut #canon compliant #by your side #candy cane #tw quarantine #concrit welcome