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sanguineterrain · 10 months

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if you give a spider a pastry... | miguel o'hara

Summary: Mango turnovers and a bloody Spider-Man. Basically, a regular night in New York.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x baker!gn!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: injured Miguel (he's okay dw), brief arguing. mostly fluff and sass. first meeting.

A/N: hi y'all! I watched ATSV yesterday and the Miguel brainrot has advanced <3 this is my first time including Spanish in a fic. Since Miguel is Mexican, I did research and tried to incorporate Mexican slang. It's not the responsibility of any reader to correct me—however, I appreciate corrections of the Spanish, if offered. :)

A/N 2: also, the timeline/universe details are vague in this one, but I pictured that the reader is not in Earth-2099.

If you enjoy this fic, please let me know through comments and reblogs ♡

the divider

Something is trying to crawl into your dumpster.

You've armed yourself accordingly (got a dust broom out of the closet) and after fifteen minutes of agonizing over whether you should go outside or go to bed, you have decided you are going to deal with the pesky raccoon once and for all. Or cat. Or opossum. Whatever. You just hope it doesn't have rabies.

Slowly, you edge open the back door of the kitchen to the bakery. You tap the outside railing a couple of times with your broom. Clink clink. There's no sound in response, so you step out a little further, hitting the broom bristles against the stairs.

"Ba-boom, ba-boom!" you shout into the alley. You'd read you're supposed to make noise to scare off raccoons. Or was it bears?

No, that doesn't make sense. When's the last time you saw a damn bear in New York?

You wait, heart rate climbing. There's no more noise, so you open the door all the way and quickly shut it behind you, gripping the broom with both hands. You jump out into the open.

The dumpster is covered, which is wildly embarrassing for you. However, right next to the dumpster is a giant dude in what you assume is a Spider-Man costume, though it's not like the one you've seen.

His stomach is covered in blood.

"Holy fuck," you say, dropping the broom. "Shit. Fuck! Oh my—uh, s-stay right there, don't move."

"Sound advice," he says dryly, startling you. "I was going to do a little dance for you."

Okay. Blood loss has different effects on people. You can't take it personally; this dude has half his guts in the alley.

You grit your teeth and pull out your phone, shakily typing in your passcode. As soon as you do, a glowing orange rope—web?—shoots out and yanks your phone right out of your hand.

"No," he grits out. "Todo bien."

"Everything is not fine. What is wrong with you, dude? You're bleeding out!"

"I'm not bleeding out, dude; most of the blood isn't mine."

"Yeah, that's definitely not true," you say. "Look, I don't know what would possess a person to come out here ten o'clock at night and do… whatever this is, but I'm not letting someone die next to my dumpster. Give me my phone!"

"No," he says, hissing in pain as he shifts his weight. "You're overreacting and hysterical."

"Hysterical?"

You can't see his face but you know he's rolling his eyes.

"Can you relax?" he asks. "Chale, I'm not itching to bleed out next to your dumpster. I'll be on my way as soon as my body repairs itself enough for me to move."

"You're literally insane, man. Absolutely bonkers. You've lost your Silly String."

"Silly String…" he echoes.

You strut up to him and try to snatch your phone. He dodges you a couple of times, then swats at you like a cat.

"Enough," he snaps. "Don't make me web you."

"Web me? Okay, you know what? Screw you, man. I'm not gonna call anybody. Bleed out for all I care. Keep the goddamn phone, I'll get a new one. Christ."

You pick up your broom and stomp up the stairs, yanking open the back door and slamming it behind you. Fucking New Yorkers. First rule of living here: mind your business! You try to be a good Samaritan and get verbally accosted by Spider-Man on steroids. Typical.

You fume for about two full minutes, glaring angrily at your shelf of baking trays. Then you hear the bane of your existence groan in pain outside. All the anger leaves you.

You can't just ignore him. Accelerated healing or not, he's vulnerable. What if someone tries to attack him?

This is probably the worst idea you've ever had. You walk to the fridge anyway and pull out two mango turnovers. You nuke them in the microwave, which physically pains you to do, but you're in a time crunch, so.

You open the door gently this time and step outside.

"Spider-Man?" you ask quietly.

You hear him sigh.

"¿Qué quieres?"

You go down the stairs and walk so you're in view again. He hasn't moved from his position. Your phone rests on his uninjured thigh.

"Sorry for yelling at you," you say.

He stiffens, then looks away.

"You don't need to apologize. I… Soy un cabrón."

"Yeah," you say, walking over and sitting across from him. "Little bit."

He sniffs the air, his suit's eyes narrowing at you. You set the paper plate with the pastry on his thigh and take your phone back.

"What's this?"

"It's a mango turnover," you say. "I've been experimenting this week."

"Why is it on my leg?"

"What, did you think I was gonna feed you?"

"Take it," he orders. "I don't want it."

"Are you allergic? I have other flavors."

"The flavor is not the problem."

You bite into your own pastry. You puff out air, trying to cool it down.

"Ih hah," you tell him through a mouthful.

"Oh, really?" he deadpans.

You swallow. "I'm trying to extend an olive branch here, Spider-Man. I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"Why did you come back out?" he asks exasperatedly.

"I didn't want you to be alone," you say. "What if someone tries to pull off your mask and ruin your secret identity? That's, like, totally devastating in the superhero world, right?"

"And what exactly would you do if they did? Throw a pastry at them? Whack them with your broom?"

"I'm wily," you say, biting into your pastry. "You should eat it before it gets cold."

"No."

"They came out pretty good, if I do say so. Priya—she's my other baker—had her doubts, and I did too, honestly. But this seems like a success."

He remains stoic, likely glaring at you. You finish your pastry and flick the crumbs off your mouth.

"You'd be doing me a favor, taste testing," you add. "Gotta make sure it suits other people's palettes."

"I already did you a favor by getting rid of the people who did this," he says, gesturing to the blood.

Your mouth pinches unhappily.

"I wish you'd let me take you to the hospital."

"It's unnecessary. I'll be fine soon."

"You're nuts, Opossum-Man."

"Opossum-Man?" he asks, sounding comically offended. "I'm clearly a spider."

"I think that's subjective," you say. "But I'm only calling you that because I thought there was an opossum in my dumpster. Turns out it was you."

"That's ridiculous," he says. "Wait, what do you mean it's subjective? I'm obviously Spider-Man."

"Well, what are the pointy things under your eyes?" you ask. "Those throw me off. They look like fangs. I thought you were supposed to be a spider. Those are, like, bat features."

"Spiders do have fangs," he says with a huff. "How do you think they incapacitate their prey?"

"I think you're giving the New York public school system way too much credit here, dude. I didn't learn all that. We had a unit about bees. How come there's no Bee-Man?"

He scoffs. "What would that even entail? A guy who flies around pollinating the city?"

You giggle.

"You're kinda funny, Spider-Fangs."

"I do stand-up in my spare time. Speaking of…"

He pushes himself to stand with a quiet grunt. You stand with him, arm outstretched in case he needs help. Not that he'd take your help. But still.

He's a big guy. You'd figured as much by his giant shoulders, but standing in front of him really puts it into perspective. You have to crane your head to see his face.

He hands you the plate. You pull the saddest pout you can muster.

"You're not even gonna taste it?" you ask.

"No."

"Okay," you mumble, defeatedly taking the plate.

He looks at you for a long moment, then tilts his head forward, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Mierda—okay, fine. One bite."

You bounce on your toes as he takes the turnover and lifts his mask up to his nose. You're transfixed by his exposed skin, the dark freckle on his jaw, his full bottom lip. Wow.

He barely opens his mouth, biting the corner. He chews, swallows, and pulls down his mask. You miss the view immediately.

"It's good," he says.

"Holy crap, was that a compliment? Did Spider-Man call my pastry good?"

"I take it back."

"You can't," you inform him cheerily. "I'm going to put it on my advertisements. Opossum-Man approved! Sales will skyrocket."

He walks away, limping only slightly. Well, you suppose that's better than how he was half an hour ago.

"Good night!" you call after him.

He pauses, then turns.

"How are you getting home?" he asks.

"Oh, I live right above," you say, pointing behind you. "No worries."

He nods.

"Órale. Don't visit uptown for a while."

You salute. "You got it, Opossum."

He flings a web string and then he's gone. It's only then that you look at the plate and realize he took the pastry with him. You can't help your little grin.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse x you #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction

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spoodrm4n · 2 years

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But I Wouldn’t Let You (pt. 2 of And I Would Do It Again)

Parings: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: You wake up in the hospital, having no memory of how you ended up there or the fall of Star Court. Steve comforts you and stays with you while you heal. You both end up having a heart to heart at the end of the day. Angst to fluff! Takes place at the end of season 3, leading into season 4.

Warnings: angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, mentions of memory loss.

Word Count: 3.7K (not sure how it ended up being the same length as part one lol)

A/N: Started making this as soon as someone requested a part two. Thank you so much for all the positive comments on part one! I’m new to writing fics so the encouragement is appreciated! Thank you.

READ PART ONE HERE

You blinked up at the white ceiling, the beep of the heart monitor grounding you and keeping you above water. The vision in your left eye was worse for wear, darkness overtaking a part of it. Your whole body felt sore and you had tried to move and sit up, but you decided against it as the pain flared up. You didn’t remember how you had gotten here– or how long you had even been here. You had woken up alone and the clock on the bedside table read 4:47am. You supposed you should’ve called in a nurse or doctor, but there was no button in sight. You had only been up for a few minutes before a doctor came in, Steve trailing a bit behind him.

What was Steve doing here?

“Ms. Henderson, how are you feeling?” The doctor spoke and you stared dumbly up at him, swallowing.

“I’m okay,” you spoke, voice hoarse. Steve came out from behind the doctor and handed you a water bottle. You took it and twisted the cap off quickly, drinking greedily. How long have you been here?

“That’s good. Feeling any pain anywhere?” The doctor asked, peering above his glasses at me and I shook my head once again, lying to him. You had started to feel the effects of the pain medicine wear off when you woke up.

“What happened?” You choked out, sitting up on your elbows with a wince. Steve placed a hand on your upper back, easing you into the pillows behind you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” The doctor asked and that made you a bit frustrated. You sat there for a minute, eyebrows furrowed in thought. You were at Scoops with Robin, Steve, and your little brother and you were figuring out something… a code. A Russian code. A secret Russian code and you all had found a secret underground Russian base. You remembered getting taken, getting interrogated and beaten half to death, escaping and getting shot. The details were fuzzy after that.

“I-I was shot. That’s the last thing I can clearly remember. Everything is a bit fuzzy after that,” you shrugged. “How long have I been here? Is Dustin okay? Everyone else?” Concern gripped your throat and you felt your breaths become quicker at the thought of your brother being hurt– or even worse. Your ribs ached with every breath, thinking the worst as Steve rubbed your back.

“Dustin’s fine. Everyone’s fine, I promise.” Steve soothed, rubbing circles on your back.

“What happened?” You raised your voice, wanting answers. The doctor sat down in a chair across from your bed, facing you.

“This might be hard to believe…” You drank in his words. It all sounded absolutely insane, but you had just escaped from a Russian base hidden under Hawkins so you could believe it. They had told you that you had been asleep for a few days now and that the situation was under lock and key and that they planned on closing the lab down at the end of this month.

“Is Max okay? I mean, that can’t be easy to deal with. And El? Who is taking care of her?” You turned to Steve once the doctor– who wasn’t even a doctor in the first place, was done explaining everything to you.

“I’ll leave you two alone. You should be good to leave tomorrow afternoon.” With that he left and you and Steve were alone. He was sitting on the side of your bed, now facing you.

“Max is holding up as well as she can. She’s tough. El is living with Joyce, Will, and Jonathan. I think they’re moving across the country to California in a month. We’ll check up on them once you’re well enough, yeah?” He reassured you. His hand had stopped rubbing circles on your back a while ago, now just resting there, thumb rubbing up and down slowly. You weren’t sure when Steve had gotten so intimate with you, but you weren’t really complaining. Your face was hot with a blush. “Dustin and Robin were here earlier with us, we all watched a movie. It was Star Wars– the one with the little teddy bears.” He imitated the little noises they made and you laughed.

“Ah yes, my favorite Star Wars movie– the one with the teddy bears.” You mocked him, rolling your eyes. If only Dustin were here to witness this blasphemy.

“You know, I think I know where your brother gets it from.” Steve narrowed his eyes at you, a pout on his lips.

“Woah, he’s way worse than me, that’s no debate.” You defended yourself.

“Do you remember anything before you passed out? Remember our conversation in the bathroom?” The tone of the room shifted completely. Steve’s voice was quieter now as he turned to look at you. His eyes scanning your face.

“I passed out in a bathroom? Gross,” You scoffed, shaking your head at the thought. “Those mall bathrooms are absolutely disgusting.” You tried to lighten the mood a bit, but failed.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Steve sighed and moved his arm from around your back. You frowned a bit at the loss of contact. “Y/N, I thought you were going to die. And I was scared shitless. I didn’t really know what to do when you just collapsed right in front of me. I couldn’t do anything to help you, I just had to watch and I felt so helpless. I was so scared.” His voice was just a whisper now. You felt your stomach flip uneasily at the thought of Steve watching you die. You didn’t want anyone to have to deal with that– especially him. “I had just gotten you and I thought in that same moment I lost you.” You could see the tears threatening to spill over.

“What do you mean ‘you had just gotten me’?” You tilted your head to the side just a bit, searching his face for an answer. You saw his face fall a bit before he was biting his lip. “Steve.”

“God, it’s more nerve wracking the second time,” you heard him mutter under his breath. He took both of your hands in his, being careful of the IV in the back of your left hand. “I like you, a lot. I have for a while now.” And suddenly it was all coming back to you.

His lips on yours, your hands holding onto the edge of the sink in the bathroom like a lifeline. His hands cradling your face ever so softly. His promise of a date, his guilt over your injuries and wishing they were his own, his confession, you passing out and him catching you before you hit the tile floor.

You surged forward, crashing your lips onto his, hands moving from his hands to the back of his neck. Your fingers found their way through his hair and you were pulling at it, desperate. One of his hands found your waist and the other held the side of your head, fingers grazing your jaw and ear. Steve Harrington liked you. Steve Harrington was kissing you. Holy shit. He leaned back from the kiss, forehead resting against yours.

“I really thought– for a god forsaken moment– that I had lost you.” He kept his eyes closed and you frowned as a tear slipped down his cheek.

“I’m right here. I’m here, Stevie. I’m okay.” You reassured, hand moving to swipe the tear from his cheek. He opened his eyes then, coffee brown irises meeting your own.

“I know. I know,” he said back, kissing you again; just to make sure you were really there in front of him.

...

You had been out of the lab’s hospital for almost a week now. You had received your fair share of visitors; Lucas, Max, Will, Mike, El, Jonathan, Nancy, and of course Robin. Steve had taken it upon himself to take care of you while your mom had to go to work, to which your mom had almost cried at the kind act. Dustin was checking up on you constantly, obviously shaken up from almost losing you as well, but he had to go back to school. Robin was over most nights after her Family Video shifts, often bringing a movie with her for you, Steve, Dustin, whoever was visiting at the time and herself to watch.

“So I’m out of a job, is what you’re saying.” You groaned as Robin rambled about the mall incident being covered up by a fire. She was sitting on the foot of your bed, cross legged with this week's newspaper spread out in front of her on your bed.

“I’d say so. Unless you want to scoop some ash into a cone for willing customers.” She smiled up at you and you shook your head, a smile on your face. “You could come work with me and Steve!” Robin suggested, eyebrows raised enthusiastically.

“We’re getting the band back together?” Steve walked back into your room, a glass of water in hand and your pain meds in the other. He handed them to you and you kissed him on the cheek quickly in thanks.

“Only if Y/N wants to. Which I’m not sure why she wouldn’t. We could totally convince Keith to hire you on. If I could convince him to hire Harrington, you would have no problem at all.” Robin jabbed at Steve and he rolled his eyes, sitting on the bed by you. Your mom was at work today and Dustin was over at Mike’s house along with the rest of the kids.

“I’ll apply in like a week's time. I mean, I feel better already. I really wanna go somewhere tonight. I haven’t been out in so long.” You groaned, throwing your hands up.

“Um, false. You were out literally four days ago.” Steve argued, stealing the comic page of the newspaper from Robin.

“Driving home from the lab doesn’t count Steve.” You glared at him. You loved Steve, but he was being a helicopter parent right now.

“I’d say it does.” He shrugged, put the comic down and looked at you. You stared back, glaring at him, hoping that if you did it long enough he would relent.

“Hardly, Harrington,” Robin spoke up and you pointed from her to Steve, emphasizing your point.

“Steve, I need sunlight. I’m getting all depressed just sitting in here all day. Can we just go on a drive or something? It doesn’t have to be anything big, okay?” You begged, pouting. Steve looked at your puppy dog face for a minute more before he was sighing, running a hand through his hair. You had won this one.

“You wanna come, Rob?” Steve got up from the bed, grabbing his keys from your dresser and shrugging his jacket on.

“I have to be at Family Video in like half an hour, so I’ll have to pass.” Robin said, standing up and grabbing her bag from the foot of the bed. Steve came back over once he had slipped his shoes on and helped you up. You got to your feet slowly, hands steadying yourself on his shoulders.

“I’ll drive you so you don’t have to walk. It’s no trouble.” Steve offered Robin as you moved to put a sweatshirt over your head. You huffed as you stretched your arms above your head and it pulled on the stitches of your healing bullet wound. Steve was helping you in an instant, lowering your arms a bit as he pulled the material over your head. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the pain written across your face.

“Fine, just need these pain meds to kick in.” You mumbled, grabbing your white high tops and bending down slowly to put them on.

“Hey, hey, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you and you stood back up, arm cradling your side.

“Okay, Henderson, you need to take it easy. You can’t be moving around like that,” Robin fussed, running her hands down the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing out the wrinkles.

“I’m fine guys. I’m not going to just fall apart.” You groaned, swatting Robin’s hands away. You just wanted to feel normal again and you couldn’t really do that if all of your friends were constantly fussing over you.

“I don’t know, Y/N. Could’ve fooled me,” Steve muttered, standing back up to face you.

“Seriously. Can we just go?” You crossed your arms against your chest and started walking towards the front door to leave. Steve and Robin walked behind you, whispering amongst themselves. You walked out the front door and went to sit in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. You gently lowered yourself onto the seat, careful not to jostle your ribs or your stitches. You let out a breath as you got situated and Robin sat in the seat behind you, Steve in the driver’s seat.

“You okay?” Steve looked you up and down, seeing how tense you sat and how your arm was wrapped around your torso.

“Fine. Let’s go,” you supplied quickly, sinking a bit lower into the seat, willing the pain medication to kick in soon. Steve pulled out of your driveway and onto the street, on our way to Family Video to drop Robin off.

“By the way, thank you, Robin, for picking up my shifts for the week. I really can’t thank you enough.” Steve spoke up over the radio after a minute.

“It’s really no problem, Steve. Gotta take care of our bestest friend Y/N. No other cause I’d take a shift for.” She chuckled, patting you on the shoulder gently. You smiled at her in the rearview mirror.

“Thank you guys. You really didn’t need to do any of this.” You felt like a burden suddenly, realizing you were making Robin work more hours and making Steve lose money. You could’ve handled being on your own.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If Dustin were here right now he would be scolding the shit out of you for being guilty. And before you argue, I know that look,” Steve interrupted you, pointing a knowing finger at you.

“I just mean that this shouldn’t be your guys’ responsibility.” I shrugged, glancing out the window at the scenery.

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, Y/N. We love you and don’t mind taking care of you and keeping you company. You took a bullet for us; it’s the least we can do.” Robin argued as Steve pulled into the Family Video parking lots. She opened the door to get out. “I’ll see you both later tonight?” She raised an eyebrow, holding onto the car door, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up when your shifts done. See you then!” Steve called after her as she closed the door and bounded down the sidewalk towards the entrance. Steve put the car back in drive and the two of you were off, going down one of Hawkin’s many backroads. The car ride was silent as you turned over Robin’s words in your head. You took a bullet for us; it’s the least we can do. You had, hadn’t you? You started to think if you ever got the opportunity to go back and change the situation, reverse roles, maybe even stop yourself from getting involved in cracking the code in the first place, that you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t change a thing about it. You would take that beating again, that bullet again and again if it meant they came out okay. If it meant Steve came out okay. You felt sick to your stomach as you realized the depth of your feelings for him– or maybe it was the pain. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the nauseousness to go away.

You felt the car come to a stop a few minutes later and opened your eyes, finding yourself at one of the deserted shores of Lovers Lake. You turned to Steve, finding that he was already looking at you.

“What are you thinking about?” He broke the silence. You swallowed and turned to him, the pain medication finally kicking in, making your body relax a bit in the seat.

“I wouldn’t change anything I did.” You said simply, eyes locking onto his.

“You wouldn’t change anything?” He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I meant what I said in the bathroom that night. I wouldn’t change anything. I would do it over and over again if it meant you guys were okay– you were okay. I would go through it all over again with a smile on my face because I know you would be okay.” You reiterated seriously.

“Come on,” Steve was getting out of the car now, walking over to your side and opening the door for you. You looked up at him and he scooped you up into his arms and carried you down to the shore of the lake. He set you down gently and joined you, sitting beside you, legs touching.

“Steve?” You questioned, waiting for his response. You could see a million thoughts flying through his head when you looked at his eyes. You could see the inner turmoil he was facing as his lips drew into a thin line and he gazed across the water. The sunshine reflected off of the surface, making it a shimmery teal.

“But I wouldn’t let you. I won’t let you, ever again.” He finally said, eyes still fixed on the small waves. “You’ll never get the chance again.”

“How can you be so sure?” You asked, fiddling with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“Because I wouldn’t let you. I’d be better this time– faster, more aware, more careful.” He argued, shaking his head.

“It wasn’t your fault, Steve.” You put a hand on his knee.

“Like hell it wasn’t. I got you dragged into this mess because I couldn’t keep my damn voice down. I got drugged and tied up. It was my fault. And I won’t let it happen again.” He was louder now and you flinched a bit. He looked at you now and blinked. “After you passed out in the bathroom, I had to leave you there in the corner because of that damned Mind Flayer. I couldn’t help you right then or I would’ve gotten us both killed. Once we finally got help, they said you were critical– that if we had been one second later you would’ve been gone forever. Those three days you were in that lab I lost my mind. I was going crazy and I couldn’t do anything to help you and I told myself over and over that if we got lucky enough to make it out of this, I wouldn’t let you do anything like that ever again. I won’t let you.” Your heart broke as tears fell down his cheeks. You did the same as you did in the lab, swiping them away gently with your thumb.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I’m sorry, Steve.” You whispered, tears starting to fall from your own eyes.

“You’re one of the few people that really know me and you actually care. People tend to not really give a shit about me– it’s not something I’m used to, so when someone finally did, I held onto it like a lifeline.” He admitted, sobs bubbling his throat. “I love you so much.” You felt yourself freeze up at his confession. You stared at him, mouth slightly agape, tears still running down your face.

“Steve–” He cut you off, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed back, a new mix of emotions pouring out as you replayed his confession over and over again. You found yourself smiling into the kiss, giddy as hell. You started giggling which turned into a full on laugh and Steve pulled away. You wheezed, not sure if your tears were still out of sadness or joy anymore. Your ribs hurt and you felt sore all over.

“I can’t believe you’re laughing at me right now.” He whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No, no, no. I’m not laughing at you. I-I just. I had to get shot for you to tell me you love me?” You said through your laughter. Steve cringed at the implications of your words.

“I mean, no. But when you put it like that–”

“Steve.”

“What?” He looked utterly confused now.

“I love you too.” You smiled, sobering from your laughter.

“Only took you almost dying to get it out of you.” Steve rolled his eyes, pulling your face towards his and peppering you in soft kisses. Your face was still discolored from bruises, but he still thought you were incredibly beautiful. “You’re gorgeous, Y/N. I love you.” He said in between kisses.

“I could get used to that,” you chuckled. He stopped kissing you after a minute.

“We should go back to my house. That medicine is making me tired,” you yawned, rubbing a hand over your face. Steve stood up beside you.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the emotional conversation we just dumped onto each other?” Steve laughed, giving you a hand up. You took it and stumbled to your feet. He hooked an arm around your shoulders and led you to the car.

“Yeah… maybe that too,” you smiled. Steve opened the car door for you again and you ducked in, getting comfortable as Steve hopped in the drivers side. He started the car and turned the radio down, seeing you yawn for the third time. You shifted to where you were resting your head on your arm, eyes closing.

You groaned as a pair of arms picked you up, jostling you from your sleep. Steve shushed you, closing the car door with his foot and carrying you to your room. He nudged the door open with his hip and laid you down in the bed, taking your shoes and sweatshirt off for you. You mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ to him and he smiled down at you.

He kicked his own shoes off and took his keys out of his pocket, putting them back on the bedside table. He climbed in beside you and pulled the covers up on you both. You scooted closer to him, eyes still closed and half asleep. He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you, being careful of your wound. He knew Dustin would get home in an hour or two and find him in bed with his sister and throw a fit, but with you in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the repercussions.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said quietly, planting a kiss onto your temple. He was met with the sound of your steady breathing. He looked at the brown leather watch he always had on, checking the time he had before he had to go pick up Robin. He smiled when he saw he had a few hours and settled in, drinking in every second he had with you.

He promised himself that he would never let it happen again, but he wouldn’t change a thing either.

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wangxianficrecs · 3 months

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💙 Lay my body down by tawaen

💙 Lay my body down

by tawaen

M, 48k, Wangxian

Summary: One of the fragments of Wei Wuxian's soul, splintered during the first siege of the Burial Mounds, uses the energy released by the Yin Tiger Tally and flees backwards through time to another moment where Wei Wuxian was close to death – after the fall of Lotus Pier, at the hands of Jiang Wanyin. Knowing how his first life will end, Wei Wuxian decides to hide his survival, and leave the cultivation world behind. Kay's comments: This story left me absolutely speechless, it was just so perfect! As if someone magically knew all my favourite things and wrote them into a story. It's got genius inventor Wei Wuxian, who becomes a rogue cultivator of sorts and finds his family with the Wens! It's got actual consequences from grave injuries that aren't magically healed! It's got Wen Qing being a good leader and the best sister! It's got Lan Wangji suffering the pain of loss much sooner and therefore learning his lesson sooner and holding on tight to Wei Wuxian when they meet again! It's got the sects getting what they have coming! And it's also incredibly well-written and I literally couldn't stop myself from reading it in one sitting. Excerpt: Wei Ying is too exhausted and in too much pain to deal with the rage, fear and grief. He is already overwhelmed with those feelings from the fall of Lotus Pier. He cannot process the memory or any of his emotions now. Right now, he needs to focus on healing as much as he can. The Wen will come for them soon. His golden core opened his airways and protected them while he was unconscious. He focuses the remainder of his spiritual energy on his back; he needs to stop the bleeding. He can't stay here, but he needs to be sure he won't loose too much blood or get infected through the open, weeping gashes on his back. He meditates as Jiang Cheng's breathing evens out, having finally burned through his rage and cried himself to sleep beside the broken, bloody body of his childhood companion. Once he is sure all the bleeding stopped, he slowly rolls himself into the water of the river next to them. When Jiang Cheng wakes, it will look like Wei Wuxian moved in his sleep – drowned and carried away by the river.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, time travel, time travel fix-it, somebody lives/not everybody dies, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, butterfly effect, no golden core transfer, no jiang cheng & wei wuxian reconciliation, not jiang cheng friendly, cultivation sect politics, demonic cultivation, sunshot campaign, wen remnants live, eventual lan wangji/wei wuxian, time travelling wei wuxian

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wangxianficfinder · 5 months

Text

In the mood for...

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1. Itmf fics where yzy and jfm are actually good parents and wwx has a good relationship with yzy. It'll be great if you have it in Canon era, but if not, then I don't mind them being modern too

Still Waters by PorcupineGirl (G, 6k, wangxian, canon divergence, cloud recesses study arc, YZY pov, arranged marriage, protective YZY) Cloud recesses study arc, YZY pov, she likes WWX and wants what’s best for him. She set up an arranged marriage between him & LWJ as kids but now thinks that LWJ is too cold and unemotional for WWX.

Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, wangxian, WWX & YZY, WWX & JFM, WWX & JYL, YZY/JFM, JC & WWX, LQR & WWX, LXC & JYL, Madam Jin & YZY, LQR & JFM, LXC & LWJ, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death)

🔒 Of Destruction and Rebirth by demoniqt (M, 88k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, major character death, rape/non-con, underage, graphic depictions of violence, Slow Burn, Canonical Character Death, God WWX, God Verse, BAMF WWX, Grieving LWJ, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Gods & Goddesses au, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Rabbits, Fix-It, Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Castration, Lots of it, repeatedly, Punishment, Hell)

🧡 Heaven Has No Rage by flipfloppandas (M, 51k, WWX & YZY, JFM/YZY, implied wangxian, WWX/WC, WWX/others, rape/non-con, modern, hurt/comfort, protective YZY, good parent YZY, hospitals, medical procedures, vomiting, trauma)

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2. Hi, I'm really in the mood for a fic set in post canon. Wangxian are happily married and there is a JC and WWX reconciliation, but LWJ and JC still don't like each other. I think it is funny if they are trying to tolerate each other's presence for the sake of WWX. But they still give WWX a headache because JC and LWJ still fight ( using words ). Of course it is a bonus if the junior quartet are also in the fic. Expecially JL and WWX having interactions as uncle and nephew. @yunshenlianhua

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, Español Translation Attempting the Impossible by Hummingbird_52, [PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, JC & JL, Post-Canon, POV JC, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Weddings, Wedding Planning, Some politics, Complicated Relationships, Brothers, let's do some HEALING and RELATIONSHIP BUILDING, ode to Lise's Yunmeng Shuangjie feelings in almost 50k words, jc and lwj still don't like each other very much, Angst with a Happy Ending, some people? plan weddings?? to cope???, Podfic Available)

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3. can i have some fics with similar element to "Content Warning: Romance" by ariaste? as in, wwx feeling uncomfortable with being treated tenderly, but not wholly opposed to it either, so lwj showers him with tenderness. can be fluff, or can contain kinky element (in a "i will force u to receive tenderness but i will stop if u safeword"). bonus points if wwx gets so overwhelmed he starts crying

Stray Cat by Surprised_by_witches (E, 148k, WangXian, Modern AU, Dealing With Trauma, Angst, Depression, OCD, Past Drug Use, Non-Binary NHS, Brief suicide ideation, Slow Burn, Self-Harm, Past Child Abuse)

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4. Hi hi hi! Does anyone know of any fics where WWX and JC get along well? Especially where JC calls WWX ge/brother. Could be any setting/plot, just want that family dynamic!

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It, Lynchpin [PODFIC] by Opalsong, [PODFIC] Lynchpin by Gwogobo)

With Such Impossible Conveyance by Comfect (T, 99k, WangXian, ChengQing, Fix-It, Brotherly Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending, feelings what feelings, Anger Management, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Swearing, Fluff, Romance, An End to Idiotic Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Except The Bad Guys, Humor, [Podfic] With Such Impossible Conveyance by achluophobia, contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), flamingwell_collabs, GoLBCollabs (GodOfLaundryBaskets), Hechu, Lavendargrrl, mahons_ondine, mistingsidekick, Ohari, semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona), with (fensandmarshes), with (olive2read))

this storm that should not be by TheDameJudiWench (G, 6k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Drowning, Family Dynamics) (link in #8B)

So You Accidentally Kidnapped A Qilin by Mikkeneko (T, 83k, WangXian, Juuni Kokki | Twelve Kingdoms Fusion, mdm yu’s a+ parenting, Identity Issues, Cultivator Politics, Yin Iron Poisoning, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, WWX Needs a Hug, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Pacifist WWX, MXTX Big Bang 2021) they do fight, understandable i think given the plot, but they are clearly very close, call each other brother, and have each others' back. in fact that's Mikkeneko's brand, i feel, def check out their other fics

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5. Hello! ITMF Wei Wuxian getting his original body back. In particular, fics which have big dramatic scenes where people are shocked to see WWX in said original body alive again. Thank you so much!

🔒 A Gift in a Curse’s Guise by Setyourlazerstopew (E, 9k, wangxian, post-canon, curse breaking, WWX gets his own body back, strength kink, bottom lwj, undernegotiated kink, manhandling, aftercare)

💖 Transcend by covalentbonds (Not rated, 7k, wangxian, post-canon, fluff & humor, smut, WIP)

a truth universal by curiositykilled (T, 7k, LSZ & WWX, Junior quartet, Post-Canon, Crack Treated Seriously, or at least crack that veered peculiarly into seriousness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Childhood Trauma, WWX's Year of Travel, MianMian cameo, LSZ's fear of abandonment, Misunderstandings, Comedy, Alcohol)

Is Your Old Body Considered a Halloween Costume? by The_peregrine_falcon (G, 3k, WangXian, Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon)

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6. Hello! Would anyone happen to know of any fics where the yin tiger seal takes a liking to Lan Wangji? @kedaliya

Little Death by sassybluee (E, 28k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, Canon Divergence, Dark WWX, Courtesan LWJ, Violent Thoughts, Resentacles, Mpreg, Magical Pregnancy, PWP, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining while fucking, Bondage, Bottom LWJ, referenced lwj + others, Blood Drinking, YLLZ WWX, Near Death Experiences, accidental near death experiences, Dissociation, sentient resentful energy, Intersex, Lactation Kink, Cunnilingus, Nipple Play, Praise Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Under-negotiated Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pregnant LWJ, Non-Consensual Body Modification) please read the tags n warnings tho :)

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7. ITMF the juniors crushing on handsome Wei Wuxian? It doesn’t have to be smutty or anything like actual serious crushes. I would love to see puppy love or them being in awe of how cool and powerful and charming he is. Thanks

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8. Hi there! Thank you for recommending so many great fics! A) Itmf fics where WWX overcomes his fear of dogs. B) Also itmf fics where LWJ rescues WWX from drowning. Many thanks 🙏

8A)

Imprints by Lisa_Telramor (G, 47k, wangxian, post-canon, humor, panic attacks, phobia recovery, poor life choices, JC & WWX reconciliation, dogs) WWX accidentally adopts a puppy. IIRC, he doesn't fully get over his fear. But he tries working on it, & is at least able to tolerate his own dog

Operation Barking Dog by RoseThorne (T, 20k, wangxian, JL & WWX, Fairy & MXY, WN & WWX, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, Family, Mutual Pining, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Repaying Debt, Regret, Phobias, Trauma, Memories, Tree Climbing, There Was Only One Bed, Travel, JC in Seclusion, Cynophobia, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Flowers, Grief/Mourning, WWX in MXY's Body, Pre-Slash, Cats, Dogs, Hair Braiding)

8B)

Ice Makes Warmth by donutsweeper (G, 1k, WangXian, Carrying, Drowning, Huddling For Warmth, Snow Storm) has a brief drowning and rescue scene

Hope Dangling by a String by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives, angst w happy ending, hurt/comfort, psychic bond, telepathy, communication, emotional/psychological abuse, jiang family feels, lan family feels, canon-typical violence, canon-typical politics, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing) note -- it's a long fic & the drowning thing is a major plot point in the last quarter of the fic

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 53k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU) can't remember if lwj saves him but wwx almost drowning is a major part of this series

this storm that should not be by TheDameJudiWench (G, 6k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Drowning, Family Dynamics) also a fic where Jiang Cheng saves wwx from drowning? Not sure if requester #8 is interested. Might work for #4 as well, ymmv

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9. Hello thank you for all your hard work! Itmf fics with some quality found family similar to Come Around and Stay, The Martial Arts Instructor Fic You Didn’t Know You Needed, or if you can’t beat them, recruit them. Or with a really great sense of community, like the one fic about the a**hole dog. Modern era preferred but not necessary.

leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you've met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation) asshole dog fic (link to podfic in #14)

Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 21k, wangxian, past JZN/WWX, modern, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, Family, Realizing Your Best Friend is the Love of Your Life, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, And LWJ is not having it, Sex as Self Worth Reaffirmation, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, Seriously there is a lot of plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, A lot of comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cute, Feel-good)

🧡 Faire thee well by Scrippio (T, 77k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, 3Zun, Modern AU, Renaissance Faire, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Slow Burn)

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10. Itmf fics where

A) wangxian have marital problems like fights, and B) in connection to A, in which after a big fight, wwx being heartbroken just gives up and does something big and lwj is heartbroken too.

C) books which have scenes like, something really sweet and hearty and next moment we realise that this sweetness was only for this bad , very bad thing to happen next.

10 A/B) KILF (Knits I'd Like To Fuck in) by ScarlettStorm (E, 168k, wangxian, modern, sex work, fiber arts, 2nd in series) has a pretty big fight and reconciliation (though they aren’t married) in chapters 17-18

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11. Hello! It's my first time using this blog to look for a fic. I hope I'm doing it right. I'm in the mood for a longer (at least 20k) fanfic, preferably completed but can be WIP as well. I would like an omegaverse fic where neither Wei Wuxian nor Lan Wangji are feminized. I would prefer the fic to be plot-heavy as well. I would love Wangxian to be the main pairing but I'm okay with others as well. Thank you for your hard work. @broodyelii

Coincidence is Another Man's Fate by TriviasFolly (M, 164k, wangxian, rape/non-con, modenrn, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, WangXian play the long game, UNTIL THEY DON'T, Getting Together, fated pairs, Eventual Attempted Sexual Assult and Recovery, Office au, Mpreg)

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12. Are there any fics featuring a) Fierce Corpse LWJ, or b) NMJ being kept around as a fierce corpse? I've checked the 'Fierce Corpse x' tags for those characters, but there are fewer fics than I'd expected considering how much potential those ideas have, so I'm wondering if there are other fics out there without those tags? @thispatternismine

12A)

blue skies forever Series by rikke (M, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, major character death in a necromantic way, necrophilia also in a necromantic way, canon divergence with the bad ending route, lwj is wwx’s corpse boyfriend)

12B)

A Bell That Tells Us to Rise and Fight by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (T, 120k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, SL/XXC, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Everyone Lives au, Everyone Needs A Hug, Women Being Awesome, WQ is a goddess, content warning for JGS, content warning for XY, content warning for JGY, WWX's terrible awful brilliant plans, Yunmeng Bros, JYL is an angel, BAMF Women, I take it back NMJ still dies, Minor Character Death, NMJ is BACK and he is NOT HAPPY, MM is not paid enough for this shit)

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13. for the next itmf, i was wondering what are some of the best, most gut wrenching, golden core reveal fics you have ever read? it can be the main focus of the fic or one moment in a long multi chapter but the reveal is a huge part and is beautifully written? hopefully with a happy ending but anything dramatic is appreciated. thanks in advance.

we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, wangxian, JC & WWX, time travel, canon divergence, implied/referenced suicide, golden core reveal, hurt/comfort, angst, starvation, self harm, cannibalism, amputation, sunshot campaign) I like how the core transfer reveal hits in this fic

golden as they come (but he's bleeding out) by Shializaro (T, 14k, WIP, WangXian, Poisoning, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Phoenix Mountain Hunt, references to canibalism, POV LWJ) read their works they make me cry

A Mother’s Love by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 170k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Mostly combo of the Untamed and MoDaoZuShi timelines, Unreliable Narrator, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Family Feels, Found Family, PTSD, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Political Intrigue, Mystery, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Strong Female Characters, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Good Brother In Law JZX, Genderbent WWX, Intersex WWX, not a/b/o, POV Original Character, Expanded Universe, Unplanned Pregnancy, Golden Core Reveal, WWX Has No Golden Core, Cultivation Sect Politics, Bisexual WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Pining WangXian, Parent-Child Relationship, Getting Together, Protective Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, MXY Lives) Happens in first few chapters. And a focus on the Jiang siblings' relationship is a continuing theme throughout the fic

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14. In the mood for some good new podfics!

[Cold Read Podfic] leave all your love and your longing behind by Rionaa (E, 10-15 hrs, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Meet-Ugly, Panic Attacks, autistic lwj, neurodivergent wwx, the neighborhood asshole dog, if you've met one then you know, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Happy Ending, for everyone including the asshole dog, Eventual Smut, switch rights, Sex Toys, horny yearning, Masturbation) (link to fic in #9)

Teen Project to Change the world (PODFIC) by animeloverhomura, sandradaffodils (Not Rated, 1-1.5/1.5-2 hrs, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, Characters Watching Their Series, characters watching the future, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, jgs is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, Disturbing Fluff)

[Podfic] lovely thorns and singing crows by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona) (E, 4-4.5 hrs, WangXian, Modern AU, Addams Family Vibes, meet cute at a funeral, Madam Lán Lives, Light Horror, Curses, Possession, Fluff and Humor, Developing Relationship, Found Family, Weirdo4weirdo wangxian, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Audio Format: Streaming, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Download, Audio Format: M4B)

[PODFIC] this humble fox by lostsometime (T, 3-3.5 hrs, WangXian, XiYao, ChengSang, SongXiaoXue, MingSu, Canon Divergence, Creatures & Monsters, Fox Spirit WWX, Minor Character Death, Espionage, Sunshot Campaign, Scheming JGY, Scheming NHS, little dogs for nhs, Slow Romance, War, Happy Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)

[Podfic] kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), glittercracker, GodOfLaundryBaskets, jellyfishfire, kisahawklin, Koontyme, Rionaa, semperfiona (T, 7-10 hrs, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

[Podfic] decay by zaffre (G, 1.5-2 hrs, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, big sister wq, warnings for wwx's typical level of self-care, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort)

The Martial Arts Instructor Fic You Didn't Know You Needed [PODFIC] by enbysaurus_chats (enbysaurus_rex), enbysaurus_rex (M, Over 20 hrs, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Martial Arts, Accurate Martial Arts, Not Canon Compliant, WWX Has ADHD, Autistic LWJ, Mutual Pining, WWX being cute with kids, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Trans WWX, Trans WN, Trans JC, Trans OYZZ, PTSD, Slow Burn, BAMF WN, Aro WN, Queerplatonic Relationships, Chronic Illness, Polyamory Negotiations, Found Family, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Tags at the beginning of each chapter)

[Podfic] Take Some Advice Paesano by jennisaisquoi (M, 45-60m, WangXian, Modern AU, Mob, Mafia AU - Clown Version, Humor, Mistaken Identity, Getting Together)

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15. Itmf fics w/ a similar premise to "Cleaning & Courtship" by Winxhelina on ao3. Where being a servant in a cultivation household is actually a specialized skill cause you can't damage spiritual tools or accidentally unleash curses while doing the dusting. But its a high demand w/ low supply & snotty rich cultivators.

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16. Itmf fics where the wen take on wei wuxian's name, esp as a way to hide

only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, WangXian, XuanLi, Temporary Amnesia, BAMF WWX, Sad LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Mild Gore, Medical Inaccuracies, Poetry, Secret Identity, Loss of Identity, Identity Porn, The Science of Cultivation, Good Older Sibling LXC, Good Older Sibling NMJ, Good Older Sibling WWX, NMJ is a Himbo, NHS Ships It, NHS is a Crafty Bitch, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Angst and Humor, Crossdressing, WWX is Bad at Feelings) It’s brief but they do in comforting_monachopsis’ only the dead (have seen the end of war) Also, check out the YilingWei Sect tag, because that tends to happen a lot in there

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

🧡 Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WangXian, WWX & WQ & WN, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Angst, Not JC Friendly, BAMF WWX)

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17. Itmf fic where wwx has another pseudonym and reputation that's fairly well known, but isn't associated with him. Kinda secret identity fics

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, the mortifying ordeal of getting seduced by your own husband, nonlinear chronology we die like cql, just kidding nobody dies in this fic, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication) when I say I dug through 23 pages of my history for this one…

❤️ By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal, Polski Translation Pod każdym innym imieniem by tehanu, [PODFIC] By Any Other Name by sakizar) in which WWX hides his resurrection with a new ID courtesy of Jiang Cheng

Rest is Revolution Series by MarbleGlove (G/T, 32k, XuanLi, WangXian, Fix-It, Post-Sunshot Campaign, this might be crack, Niè Cultivation, BAMF NHS, BAMF JYL, Canon Divergence, Madam Lán Backstory, Getting Together) I’m joking but Rest is Revolution series by MarbleGlove is a bit like that

only the dead (have seen the end of war) by comforting_monachopsis (T, 42k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, temporary amnesia, BAMF WWX, sad LWJ, grief/mourning, loneliness, mild gore, secret identity, loss of identity, identity porn, angst, humor, crossdressing)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 99k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty, Emperor WWX, Mistaken Identity, Poor LWJ, Bookshop owner LWJ, Intrigue, Court Drama, Forced Marriage, Confused WWX, POV Alternating, Parenthood, Misunderstandings, Empress LWJ, Requited Unrequited Love, Fluff, Humor, Married Life, Angst with a Happy Ending)

the devil's resting place by fuckingspacequeen (M, 27k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Canonical Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Sentient Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC & LWJ Friendship, POV LWJ, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly)

Wei Wuxian, Who’s That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

158 notes · View notes

blueberrypancakesworld · 5 months

Text

Supporting them - Amanda, John, Mark and Lawrence

warning : angst, hurt/comfort, cuddling, kissing, mentioning of self-harm

masterlist

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Amanda : The sweet but addicted Amanda is punished by life and resurrected by Jigsaw to start a new life. But this is easier said than done since she tasted the metal and the blood, something has broken inside her and has come together in the form of emotionality and emotional outbursts, all under the cover of fear that she will not be able to live up to John or be left alone by him. Which is why, especially after Mexico and the first game, she seemed all the more nervous, but her partner was there to help her. Whether it was just words of praise or reassurance when the black-haired girl was too nervous. A hand on her shoulder or on her, ,,Just breathe it will be fine" she heard the voice of her lover when she felt her emotions boiling over. A hug behind closed doors and the encouraging gestures. A small snack or just a look was enough to tell her that everything would be alright. They are small things but they help her immensely.

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John : Jigsaw himself, as strong and effective as his actions are, is vulnerable when reduced to a human being. An elderly man who has terminal cancer and is dying of it. gets robbed of life for changing other people. And yet. But he had his favorite. His partner who helped him with everything Amanda couldn't help with. Sitting together on the couch in his house in the evenings, one hand resting on his in his lap. Showering him with stories of better times and telling him how good he was. That everything was going to be fine, making him warm tea and getting his medication ready. Maybe even try to force him to sleep and continue the drawings. Do everything so that he didn't overexert himself, he had suffered enough. ,,Don't worry John, we'll manage...your work will go on until the end" he heard the words and a small smile came to his lips as he looked at the person with love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark : The policeman, scarred by the life of the bear trap and the death of his sister, had lost everything for a time in his life. Alcohol was his best and only friend until he met not only John but also his lover. The thoughts of the darkness that surrounded him were not only tinged with brutality and a slight arrogance, but also with devotion. He loved the little gestures you did for him. A coffee in the evening, a little note, a hug when he came home and a cuddle when his mornings were hard. ,,My strong policeman... you are everything Mark, understand? I will always help you," said his favorite and hugged the older one. The older one replied that he was glad to have someone still worth loving but for everything that had happened he was grateful to have his partner. Someone he could kiss, someone who was there for him, someone he could trust after everything that had happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lawrence: The divorce from his wife, the loss of his daughter, the death of his friend Adams and the loss of his mentor and his failure with Jill. It was a time when he needed help, help to deal with his body and the loss of his leg. But it was also a time when he met his angel, his partner who not only helped him cope with his prosthesis but also with the process of his daughter. The nights were usually longer and he was afraid that the plans would not turn out right. But when he felt the reassuring hand of his darling on his shoulder, smelled coffee and felt a warm blanket around him. ,,Don't get cold, sweetie... go to sleep, I'll stay with you okay," he heard the voice and smiled slightly. They were small cares and yet they were gestures that showed him that nothing was in vain. He still had hope and love by his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@callmeklarise

#saw movies #saw franchise #amanda young #john kramer #mark hoffman #lawrence gordon #amanda young x reader #john kramer x reader #mark hoffman x reader #lawrence gordon x reader

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scandinavianfairytale · 26 days

Text

Wanting

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol, consumption of drugs, discussion on drugs, friends with benefit (somehow?), cursing, sexual themes & smut (DUB-CON, grinding, police van sex, drugged out sex, mention of public sex, mention of rape, mention of revenge porn (not towards Reader), mention pornography, mention of non-consensual filming, fingering, one pussy slap, unprotected sex, hard sex - Walter is not gentle & sees it like a punishment, multiple orgasms, drooling, crying, squirting, chocking, creampie, little bit of praise)

Walter disliked being on call on Friday nights. Ever since the new drug, Houdini, started popping up everywhere the police has been running around in circles, trying to find the main supplier, but has repeatedly come up short.

Houdini was a mixture of ketamine and ecstasy. A party drug that is supposed to highten your senses and drive up your sex drive. Sounds like a perfect mix, but what the dealers left out was the memory loss, the dehydration that followed and complete lack of mobility.

It was a mess all over the damn country - the rape cases skyrocketed, revenge porn sites were having a field day because of all the public fucking taking place, the emergency rooms were stacked with people on gurneys and everyone had to deal with victims with memory loss.

Everyone was having a bad time - the victims which were pilling up by the minute, the police that was understaffed had to do even more over hours and the doctors that had to triage almost every Friday night.

Yet people were still taking that stupid drug.

Walter was pissed off, to say the least.

How are people this stupid?

He thought as he watched a group of drunk women giggling after just snorting the Houdini. His blood boiled knowing damn well that he couldn't do anything about it. The amount of people taking this drug was too high for everyone to get arrested or booked. Priorities his superiors loved preaching.

One of the women left the group to get some drinks. Her dress barely covered anything, leaving very little to the imagination. He shook his head as he watched several heads turn after the woman. She definitely got the attention she wanted.

"Walter!" He heard and looked around to see who was calling him. Out of all the damned people, you were the woman in that short dress. The one that just snorted the Houdini. Walter clenched his jaw and his grip on the beer he was drinking tightened.

How can you be so stupid?

"It's been a while." You smiled at him. He could see how drunk you already were and he also knew the drug will take effect soon, if it hasn't already.

"You should come meet my friends!" You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards you, stumbling a few steps back as his massive weight crashed into you. Walter let you drag him to your friends, also because he knew that whatever attention you had on you would dissipate once he was next to you.

"Girls, this is Walter! The friend I told you about!"

"Oooooh, the policeman." One of your friends slurred.

"Are you here to arrest us? We're just trying to have a good time." Another winked.

"Oh stop it! He's the nice policeman. He would never arrest us." You leaned into him.

It already started taking effect.

You weren't aware of it yet, but you started lightly grinding on his leg. He heard how your breath came out laboured, and he knew he had to get you out of there. Grabbing your arm, he started dragging you away from your friends.

"Walter, what the hell?! Let me go!" You yelled, trying to resist his grip.

"I can't believe you out of all your stupid friends are acting this way." He grumbled. "You know better than anyone what's going on these days."

"I was careful." You whined, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around to glare at you, making you shut your mouth.

"Careful? You don't even realize that the drug has started taking effect. You can barely stand and I'm pretty fucking sure that if I let you stagger back to that bar you'd get lost."

"Fuck you."

"Right." Walter started dragging you to the police van parked in the small street.

"Get out." He barked at the man that was inside, surveilling the cameras around the city. The man tried to object but one stern look from Walter sent him out. Water threw you in the van, climbing in behind you and closing the door.

"What is your problem?" You yelled at him, tugging your dress down when you realized you were much more exposed than you were comfortable with.

"Now you're trying to cover up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're more than happy to bare your ass to strangers but with me you get shy? What the fuck were you thinking taking the Houdini?" You never realized he was so big as just now that he was towering over you. Your pussy clenched as your eyes lingered on his cock.

"Tammy took it before and she said she had the best fuck of her life. I just wanted to see how it felt like." You bit your lip as he crouched down to you.

"You're taking advice from a drug addict. Are you stupid?"

"I didn't take the full dose." You defended yourself. "Just a taste, to see how it feels."

"And? How does it feel?"

"Antsy." You swallowed, trying to decide whether or not to tell your very angry friend what you were thinking. You shifted on the floor a bit and the cold steel flooring touched your soaked pussy, making you gasp.

"I see the Houdini is in full swing." Walter observed you.

"Can you help me, please?"

"I'm not going to be nice. You need to learn a lesson, and maybe next time, you won't go around experimenting with drugs." You nodded before Walter pulled your collar down, exposing your breasts. His hand cupped one and pinched your nipple, making you moan.

"Keep tour mouth shut." He slammed a hand over your mouth, grabbed your hips with the other, spinning you around, and pushed you into the wall of the van. He kicked your feet further apart, making you stick your ass further into him. You could feel your nipples harden at the contact with the cold steel material. His hand then traveled to the center, under your dress, before finding your clit and circling it, making your hips buck.

"You're dripping." He said into your ear before he forced two of his thick fingers into your still clothed pussy, making you moan into his hand that was still clamped over your mouth.

"Completely soaked." Walter commented. "That's the Houdini doing its magic. Imagine if I left you there, you'd be grinding up on some coked up asshole that'd fuck you right in the middle of the bar. Anyone could record you and you'd end up on some porn site, where strangers would jack-off seeing such a whore like you get publicly fucked out of her mind. Maybe a coworker of yours stumbles upon it - bye-bye that stellar career of yours." His voice was low and raspy. Somehow, that made you even more aroused. Your pussy had a mind of her own as you realized you have been incessantly humping Walters fingers.

"Mmph." Moaning, your tongue licked his fingers, making Walter tsk. You could see your release, just a few more grinds.

"You're getting hornier by the second." He chuckled and withdrew his fingers, taking away that sweet feeling, making you whine. "But I'll be nice and I'll take care of you." He rasped into your ear before he spun you around and bent you over the control table, your head laying on the keyboard. Tugging your laughably short dress up, he exposed your core to him. He slapped your pussy, making you yelp. He tsked again when his hand made contact with your drenched and sticky thongs. His fingers wrapped around the string, pulling it away before releasing it back on your skin. Throwing your gead back with a loud "God" your pussy clenched at the impact and your back arched at the sensation.

Walter chuckled as he watched your cunt throb as he started unbuckling his belt. He finally pulled down your thong and ran his leaking cock up and down your puffy pussy. Your chest heaved, and you made sounds you didn't recognize. All you wanted needed was his cock in your cunt.

"Remember that I'm not being nice." He warned before he seethed himself in you with one powerful thrust, slamming your hips into the control table. It hurt, but in the most delicious way that you have never experienced before. The pace he set was brutal, the letters of the keyboard scratched your face, adding to the mix of pain and pleasure you were feeling.

Your orgasm hit you fast and hard, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your body spasming on his cock, but Walter just continued fucking into you. He was like a man possessed, grunting and moaning above you, his pace never faltering even after you clenched around him. He immediately pushed you into your second orgasm, making you moan out loud as juices squirted out of you.

"Fuck." Walter cursed as he felt your squirt wet his thighs. "Let's see if you can do that again."

His hand moved from your hip to your stretched pussy, circling the spot where you were joined, making you gurgle. His pace switched, his cock was slowly stretching your walls and with your drugged state you could feel almost every vein on his organ.

Mindblowing.

"Stop drooling over the keyboard." He stopped his adminitrations and grabbed a fistful of your hair to push you away from any electronics before returning his hand back.

"You're completely stretched, must be painful." He commented as he circled your full hole. You choked on your words and tried to shake your head.

"No? Good, you're taking me quite well." He praised you, making your legs shake a bit. His fingers lightly stroked around your pussy, purposefully avoiding your clit, making you whine.

"Walter...please..." You choked out.

"What is it?"

It was hard to formulate words, your body was on fire and it felt like cumming was the only thing that would put it out. But in the state that you were in, all you managed to let out was a hoarse "Cum.".

"You want to cum?" He mocked your meager attempt to communicate what you need.

"Mhm."

"So, if I touch you here," Walter tapped your clit which made your hips buck and him smirk. "then you'll cum almost immediately?" You could feel him starting to prepare himself for another round. One that you knew you were losing soon, not that there was anything to complain about.

His fingers framed your clit and his other hand grabbed at your throat. "Let's see how much you can take."

His pace again hardened, his first sharp thrust made your hips slam back into the edge of the control table, but this time he kept you firmly pinned by your neck, preventing you from slipping away. His fingers were rough on your engorged clit, but that just added another layer to your rapture.

You couldn't form a sound anymore. Your body just locked when the orgasm hit you, but then when your juices squirted out, you started convulsing. But he just kept going completely overloading you, your hand fruitlessly reached for his hand, trying to shove it away from your clit, but he wasn't bothered.

You couldn't handle another orgasm, but you had no choice but to take it. Both of you could feel how close you were to another peak again.

"That's it, come on, I know you have another one in you." His grip on your throat increased, making you release a choking sound, tears welling up in your eyes, but it also made your pussy clamp down on his cock, making you squirt again. A few thrusts more and finally Walter released himself into you. Feeling the few spurts painting your womb and his cock go slack, you finally let out a relieved sigh.

It was over.

"Good girl." Walter cooed, kissing your shoulder. He carefully let go of your throat and pulled his cock out and your body finally slumped, completely exhausted. Observing your abused and puffy pussy, his cock twitched as it refused to close. It really was a sight to see how his spend oozed out of your hole and he resisted the urge to push it back in.

He buckled up his pants and carefully pulled your thongs up, sitting you on the only chair in the van. He rummaged around to find a jacket before draping it over you, before he opened the van door again and carried you out in his arms. Your head lolled as your consciousness wavered.

Walter walked past the man who was previously thrown out of the van and the man immediately knew not to comment or bring up the situation again.

"Shhh, don't worry. I got you. Just rest now." Walter shushed you as you tried speaking. Nodding weakly, you let the darkness consume you.

Thank you for reading! 🙈

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator! 😊

#henry cavill #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall imagine #walter marshall smut #malter marshall x reader smut #wanting #short story #smut #fanfic

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cmncisspnandmore · 7 months

Text

Turned Tables

Spencer x hearing impaired reader

Summary: If someone had told you that one day you would be the one who needed saving you would have told them they were crazy. But when you find yourself going through something that you vowed you would never let happen. Only one person knows enough to be able to pull you out of the endless hole you seem to be falling deeper into.

Warning: mentions of injury, drug addiction, drug abuse, depression, overdose, chronic illness,

~~~~~

It was like the entire event was playing in your head in slow motion, all the time. Sure there were moments of relief. When something requires your attention fully, and there were moments where you just shoved it down. But those moments have been coming less and less lately. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore it. The gnawing in your gut, the feeling of utter hopelessness and despair you felt in those moments. In the moments where you attempted to commit every feature of his face to memory hoping that they would be your last.

It never came.

~~~

The next thing you know you were in the hospital and had to learn to deal with the aftermath.

With the pain.

The side effects.

The loss of your hearing.

The coffee shop was beautiful at sunset. The warm yellow glow from the lights strung in the window giving it a mystical feeling. It was cozy, it felt right, the only thing missing was Spencer. He was supposed to be meeting you here, it was your usual Saturday night coffee date, you had already ordered him his salted caramel and mocha latte, you were sipping on your vanilla latte. The sky was a dusty pink and purple as the sun set over the skyline.

There weren't many people in the coffee shop but that wasn't unusual, who drank coffee at 7:30pm. Not many people, most of the time it was you and Spencer and maybe a few other people working late. Tonight was no different, you lean your elbows on the table and stare out the door watching as people stroll by.

Then it was like time slowed, there was a moment when people started running, there was a commotion in the streets. The crowd outside moved faster, then a man appeared, his back to the window where you were sitting. His movements were strange and jerky, and then he turned. His glassy brown eyes made contact with yours, and the moment you glanced down you noticed the web of explosives taped to his chest. Your mind reeled as you watched him take his finger off the button, the world seemed to slow.

You didn't remember what happened immediately after the explosion, you were knocked unconscious for a little while, but when you came to. The ringing in your ears was enough to make you vomit. And so you did, right next to where you lay in a pile of rubble. Every bone, every muscle, every fiber of your body hurts.

You couldn't move your legs, the pieces of brick from the front of the building pinned you down. You tried to push yourself up, but your arms felt like jello, you weren't even sure they were still attached. You couldn't hear anything over the ringing in your ears, it was deafening. Every movement felt like it took the strength of a 100 bodybuilders to do it. You turn your head to the side, rubble raining down from the ceiling every few seconds, causing you to cough and squint through the dust.

As some of the dust settled you could see the friendly barista who took your order, a local high school girl. She was in her senior year, her brown hair was a matted bloody mess, her green eyes glassy. The blood spilling from her mouth, the stillness of her chest. It took only moments for you to figure out she was dead.

You turn away from her, the image of her glassy eyes burned into your brain. It would haunt you for years. You laid there, every passing moment felt like eternity. The shock slowly wore off and you were becoming more and more aware of your injuries. Pain laced your chest, your breathing becoming rapid, as you struggled to pull air into your lungs. Pain seared through every part of your battered body.

You saw the lights, but never heard the sirens, you could see the shadows of people moving around, the lights of their flashlights coming through the settling dust. You could feel the vibrations of their heavy boots coming closer. Not wanting to be missed you throw your arm up with everything you had, and sure enough someone saw you.

A fireman came over to you, his mouth was moving, but you couldn't hear what he was saying. He slowed his talking down and you were able to make out what he was saying by the movements of his mouth.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

“N-No… I-I need… you to call someone… F-FBI.. Agent Spencer… Spencer Reid…” You managed to gasp out, and the fireman nodded. His mouth moved again and you struggled to make out what he was saying… something about getting you out you assumed because he left. You struggled to keep your emotions in check as he left, panic coursing through your veins. But he came back with a few others, as they started to remove the rubble and debris from around you and on top of you.

They worked around you, under the instruction of a paramedic who was sitting by your head. You managed to catch a few words she was saying, “Crush syndrome, Heart, Arrest.” But that was all, the ringing in your ears was the same, and the vertigo was still unbearable if you moved. It felt like you were on the worst worst free dive from an airplane. Endlessly spinning towards earth with no parachute to slow you down.

The paramedic placed an IV and gave you fluids through a bag she held up, she would look down at you and tell you that you were going to be okay. At least that's what you assumed she was saying. She gave you oxygen, and held the mask over your mouth, she mimed deep breaths to you when you would start gasping. The Paramedic and the Firemen worked carefully to free you. It was a painfully slow process.

Out of the corner of your eye a pair of white and black converse, mismatched socks and jeans.You couldn't hold the tears back anymore, they cascaded down your cheeks in messy trails. Leaving streaks of clean skin beneath the dirt and dust, Spencer slid on his knees next to the paramedic and looked down at you.

His frantic words were lost to you as he conversed with the Paramedic. His hazel eyes locked with yours. His hand comes to rest on your forehead and brushes some of your Y/H/C hair out of your face. His eyes shining with unshed tears, as he speaks slowly, “You’re okay, you’ll be okay. I’m here.” his soundless words promised.

Your eyes raked over his face, trying to commit every feature to memory, “It’s okay… I love you spencer.” You whispered, your voice barely audible between the background noise you couldn't hear.

“I love you too,” you knew how those words looked. You had watched those lips say those words hundreds of times. There was a moment where something was said and Spencer's face changed. The Paramedic injected something into your IV line and you glanced at Spencer your eyes wide.

“You’ll be okay.” He mouthed, and then they removed the final piece of rubble, you gasped for breath, and then nothing. The world went dark.

~~~

Someone's hand tapped your shoulder and you jolted in your seat. You glanced over at who startled you, Spencer stood there, his hand outstretched to you. In his hand lay your hearing aids, you sigh, reaching over and putting them in. They didn't give you your hearing back, you were still significantly hearing impaired. They helped you catch every third word or so, you relied mainly on lip reading and signed English in combination with the hearing aids.

“We need to talk,” Spencer said after you had your hearing aids in, his hands moving to sign as he spoke.

“About?” You seethed, you were pissed off this morning, you hadn’t slept well. You suffered from frequent bouts of Tinnitus, it was debilitating at times.

Spencer sighs, although you couldn't actually hear it, you saw the way his chest heaved, the exasperated look on his face as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange pill bottle. Your blood ran cold, your fingertips numb. You suddenly felt like you were floating out in space unanchored.

“Why didn't you tell me you needed more of your meds? You know that you’re supposed to keep them on hand for when the headaches get bad.” He shook his head, and an annoyed expression on his face.

“I’m sorry. I forgot.” You lied, it fell easily off your tongue. You found yourself lying more and more, and the more you lied the easier it got. It didn't leave a bitter taste in your mouth anymore, you didn't feel guilty about lying anymore. It didn't even occur to you to correct Spencer that you HAD filled your prescription. Last week actually, but you had taken them all.

You didn't know when it started, but the weightless feeling, the good floating feeling that the opioids gave you. They turned from relief to a way of surviving. They no longer were there to just take the pain away, they numbed you to everything. When you took them off and took your hearing aids out, the silence that followed was nothing short of bliss.

You found yourself taking them more often, not because of the headaches, but because you craved those feelings again. For those moments, the scene didn't play over and over. You didn't repeat the moment your hearing was stolen from you. It was just nothing. Pure nothingless bliss.

Staring at Spencer you realize he's been talking to you, but now that your hearing was mostly gone it was easy to pretend you just didn't understand it, that you weren't lost in your own world. His hands waved at you and your eyes slid to his lips.

“Sorry, i didn't get that, can you say it again?” You ask, watching him closely.

“I asked if you needed me to pick up your meds, i can grab them on the way into the office,” he signs again, slower this time.

“No, no, i”ll go out and get them,” you smile, if Spencer stopped by the pharmacy he would find out that you just refilled. He would learn your dirty little secret. “You’re gonna be late,” You gesture to the grandfather clock standing against the far wall.

Spencer looks over, and runs a hand through his curls, “I’ll see you later?” He comes to kneel in front of you, his hands resting on your blanket clad legs. You give him a small nod, and lean forward pressing your lips to his. The taste of his extra sweet coffee still lingers on his pink lips, his hands squeeze your knees and he sits back on his heels. “I love you,” he says, pressing another kiss to your forehead before standing.

“I love you too” You call after him, you watch as he closes the front door of your shared apartment, and let out a sigh. You reach up, ripping the hearing aid from your ears and letting them clatter to the coffee table. You pick up your phone, open a text message thread and send a text.

Y/N: park noon?

D: Yes. 40?

Y/N: Yes. 300?

D: See you then.

You smile at the phone, and quickly erase the text thread, and put it down on the table. You glance at the time again, you had a few hours to kill before you had to go meet your dealer. At first it felt wrong, and weird. Meeting a drug dealer when your boyfriend was an FBI agent, but when you learnt just how easy it was to get pain meds you changed your feelings about it.

It was better to buy them on the street, fill the bottle that you got refilled monthly and act as if they were the same. Spencer never noticed, since the accident he had become accustomed to your tuned out personality, he understood you were dealing with a lot. You had a life changing event and it would never get better. If anything the audiologist prepared you for the fact that you would probably lose more of your hearing within the next 10 years.

You would never hear Spencer whisper how much he loved you after making love, never hear his laugh, or his ramblings. You would never hear the way he sounded when he woke up, or be able to listen to your favorite songs in the same way again. You’d never hear your future children first cry or their first laughs.

You wiped the tears that were tracking down your cheeks, now wasn't the time to cry. You pulled yourself off the couch, grabbing your hearing aids as you left the living room and headed into the bedroom. You changed out of your pajama shorts and put on a pair of leggings and one of Spencers’ sweaters. You sighed, glancing at the hearing aids that lay on the bed, the beige and clear material staring back at you. One more physical reminder of what you lost. That was all those were. You despised them. Some days you refused to wear them, against Spencers protests. But you never left the house without them, fearing that the lack of ambient noise and the inability to catch even part of what was happening around you making you anxious.

It was time to leave by the time you had finished getting ready to go, hearing aids in tow. You grabbed the keys from the counter and started the 15 minute walk to the park. After arriving at the park you take a seat on the park bench you usually meet on and wait. 10 minutes later Dylan walks up, his hands in his pockets, he looks the part of a man out on a jog, his armband with his phone nestled inside it.

He sits down on the bench next to you, and looks over at you. “Beautiful day,” his voice is distorted and hard to make out. But you just smile, and nod. He never expects his questions to be answered. After another moment he leans over and taps your shoulder, “Ma’am, i think you dropped this.” He holds out a case, it's small no bigger than a man's wallet and as you reach over you ‘accidentally’ knock over your bag, some of the contents spilling out. Dylan leans down to help you put the items back in and while doing so exchanges the case with the identical one you have in your purse effectively transferring the money from you to him and the pills from him to you.

“Thank you” You smile as you grab your bag and stand, and Dylan gives you a head nod. The whole exchange takes no more than 2 minutes, then you are back on your way home. Pills in hand, as you enter the apartment the ringing in your ears from the night before starts again. You reach up taking your hearing aids out, hoping that will help somewhat. But much to your dismay it doesn't stop the persistent high pitched sounds that your brain is trying to interpret as sound.

You put your hand to your head, and squeeze your eyes closed. You reach into your bag blindly and find the case of pills, taking 2 out you pop them in your mouth and swallow them dry. You stumble over to the couch and lay down, trying to move as little as possible. Hoping for the seet relief the pills bring to happen soon,

A few hours later the ringing was still there, unable to take another moment of it you forced yourself to your feet, heading into the kitchen to once again grab the case and take 2 more. Normally you would never take more than 2, but they don't seem to be working anymore. You dry swallow 2 more, and sit on the floor in the kitchen with your back pressed against the bottom cabinets. Your head is back against them, focusing on taking slow even breaths, your eyes closed to try to calm the vertigo.

After some time you drifted off to sleep…

~~~~~~

Cold water raining down on you from above startled you awake, you were aware of the warm body pressed against your back. Their hands brushing your hair away from your face, the tidal wave of nausea crashes into you and you throw up all over yourself. It’s quickly washed down the drain from the torrent of icy water from the shower head.

You gasp and sputter as the water continues to assault you. Hands run soothingly up and down your arms, you can feel the vibrations of someone talking behind you. Turning slightly in your seated position in the bottom of the claw foot tub you look over your shoulder and see Spencer, his own hair is soaking wet. His lips slightly blue as he shivers under the cold water. His lips are moving as he talks to you, but between the water running into your eyes and the chattering of his teeth.

“I cant… I don't know what you’re saying,” You manage to gasp out as your own teeth start to chatter. Reluctantly Spencer removes his hands from your arms, he reaches over and turns off the cold water. You let out a sigh of relief as the cold water stops cascading down your already numb body.

Spencer reaches out and grabs your chin in his long fingers, ‘You overdosed,” he mouths slowly, and realization hits you. You took 4 of the pain meds Dylan gave you. You took 4 within 2 hours of each other.

“I-Its not what you think,” you mutter, pushing yourself to stand and step out of the tub. Your clothes weigh a million pounds from the water. Your eyes fall to the floor that is slowly becoming soaked beneath you. You see Spencer climb out of the tub after you, his own soaked clothes adding to the water accumulating on the floor. His hand comes under your chin again, forcing you to look at him as he speaks.

“Why did you lie to me?” His browns pull together as he signs the question, the betrayal on his face is evident.

“I don't know what you mean.” You grab a towel from the rack and wrap it around yourself, your entire body feels drained. Like it was hit by a Semi truck at 100 miles an hour. You start to dry yourself off as Spencer stares at you. The heart of his gaze is overwhelming, the disappointment rolling off him in waves.

‘

“Don’t. Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Really? So the pharmacist was lying? He just told me that they filed your prescription last week for no reason?” He gestures wildly, you know hes yelling. You don't have to be able to hear to know that he was yelling at you. It was visible in the way his chest heaved, the way he signed the words to you. His entire body language screamed ‘anger’ like a giant flashing sign.

“OKAY! I lied!” You yell back, and the shock is evident on his face. The anger disappears to something you recognize instantly. The same look you get from everyone who knew you before. Pity. “So what? People lie all the time. It doesn't mean I have a problem.”

“Then why when I pulled your phone records did it show that for the last 6 months you have been meeting a guy once a week, a guy who by the way is a known drug dealer?!” Spencer is yelling again, and the shame slams into you. You never wanted him to be angry at you, you just wanted the pain to stop.

“If i hadn't come home early today, if i hadn't shoved my fingers down your throat while you were unconscious, you would be dead. Do you get that? You need help, Y/N. Let me help you. I’ve been there before i've been in your shoes. I can help you, I can get you the help you need.” His face softens, his hands brushing away the tears that started falling down your cheeks.

“But… I just wanted it to-to stop… “ you sob, as Spencer reaches for you and wraps you in his arms. This whole situation felt familiar, only this time it was you with the problem. Not him. When you had first met Spencer he was in the throes of his own addiction. When your long time friend Penelope Garcia called you one rainy afternoon after not hearing from her teammate, she asked if you could stop over. You only lived a block from Spencer apartment, so you trudged through knee high snow, making the short trip to his building. There you found the door unlocked and heard what sounded like someone struggling to breathe. Your instincts kicked in and you entered the apartment calling out your arrival.

That’s where you found spencer sitting on the floor of his living room, his head down on his knees. His entire body shook as he fell into a panicked spiral. You sunk down onto the wood floor and whispered to him that he wasn’t alone. That he was okay, that someone was there. When he finally calmed down enough he blurted to you that he was withdrawing from Dilaudid, alone.

Your heart thundered in your chest as he sobbed, as the shaking wracked his body, and stole the little energy he had left. You decided at that moment that he wouldn’t be doing it alone anymore. You were going to help this stranger whose soul was shattered by battling demons you could only imagine.

Now standing soaking wet in the bathroom, Spencer was promising to do the same for you as you did him. He would be your anchor in the rocky waters of addiction. He would hold your hand through the vicious mood swings and physical pain that came along with getting clean. He had already done so much for you after the accident. You weren’t sure why you felt surprised he was still here. Why was he still holding you and telling you everything would be okay, when the last few months you had been distant and even cruel towards him. You had no idea.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not angry. I’m going to be here for you. Through it all okay?” He says holding you slightly away from his chest so you can read his lips.

“Okay…” you whisper, a small smile spreading over Spencer’s lips.

“Okay. We’ll do this, we’ll face this together.”

#criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer #addiction #x you #x reader #Comfort #angst

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 1 month

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My thoughts on X-Men 97 (spoilers below)

Congratulations Morph on making it into the opening credits! Congratulations to Bishop and Magneto, too, but Morph is like the little redshirt that could, they went from "killed off two episodes in" to opening credits main character. You are the Guy Fleegman of X-Men TAS Morph, even if you are a not a guy. They even did a "threatened by Sinister" montage for them.

Thank you, Gambit, for bringing back crop tops for men, you are a fashion god. And the very first scene with Gambit is him in the kitchen making beignets.

Jubilee getting to be the experienced X-Man welcoming the new kid who was saved from kidnapping is a nice call back and kind of "full circle" for her.

Fantastic sequence of them fighting Sentinels, especially Cyclops doing the whole "optic blast his way to the ground" thing. And he could have gotten one of the flyers to catch him, he just wanted to be cool.

Nice to finally see Morph and Wolverine banter when Morph isn't being set up for a tragic death or brainwashed/filled with angst. No, now Logan is the one filled with angst, because he can't deal with pregnant (with Scott's baby) Jean.

Sunspot with his little glow sticks, and Jubilee dancing at the club is adorable.

Sunspot's card that he gave to Jubilee is the most 90's thing ever, look at those graphics.

Storm. I saw that "Lifedeath I and II" was part of the episode titles for future episodes, so I knew it was coming, but damn. It was extremely well done. Having her take the hit for Magneto instead of Rogue makes sense, and is another example of TAS writers combining comics stories (Storm's power loss and trial of Magneto) really effectively.

I kind of like that, after Cyclops gets beaten down by X-Cutioner, Morph is the one who jumps in to save him. Like, despite being a sarcastic little shit and all the previous bad blood, Morph's got Scott's back.

Wolverine driving Jean to the hospital, and Rogue using her powers to absorb "baby delivery skills" was all great. "He's coming!" "Who?! Apocalypse?" "The baby!!" And then Jean just telekinetically slapping Wolverine with his jacket and jeep keys.

One Jean? Two Jean! (Red Jean....Blue Jean?)

I'm surprised we've got a Jean double already, I expected that the show would drag it out much longer before showing Maddie. I am wondering if Madelyne will have been programmed to believe that she is also Jean, and there will be confusion over the "real" Jean. I am very, very curious as to where they will go with the Madelyne Pryor story, especially since Goblin Queen will presumably show up at some point.

#x-men 97

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pennyellee · 7 months

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preview of chapter V

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, , manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of feminism, spanking, kidnapping, drug use, alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, mentions of abuse, abduction

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 708

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

author's note: i really thought i would get this preview out sooner but life stumbled upon my feet so i had to deal with that. Anyway! Here is the preview of chapter V that is hopefully coming out next week. This one is going to be slightly longer than the previous one, hence the name of the chapter that you'll know once it's out ♥ Enjoy the preview and stay tuned for chapter V ♥ Lots of love.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V

“You knew?” She asked finally, tears welling up in her eyes yet again. His presence only made her feel everything at once. His calm demeanour contrasted starkly with the tempest that brewed within her.

“I did,” his expression was calm and attentive.

“Why keep it a secret?” She said more as a statement than a question.

His gaze did not waver, his response forthcoming. “I wanted you to focus on us, sweetling,” his voice was both tender and unapologetic. Y/N’s lips parted, the words of reproach she had prepared faltering on her tongue.

“You want me to be a Buin, yet you won’t even ask for my blessing. It’s my little sister Yoongi.”

“And that my love, is why I’m letting you decide this. Will that union be beneficial to us, Buin?”

“I’m too biased to think of your clan matters, Kkangpae.” She clapped back at him, speaking honestly.

“And by only looking at you, it was decided way before I got to know.”

The young man was looking at his future spouse in amusement. “Actually, I planned to arrange a marriage between her and Namjoon, but Taehyung swept her away it seems.” Her eyes snapped back at him. The threat that her sister would be married off to Namjoon was loud and clear even before. Namjoon was a decent man for proposing a deal to her, but Y/N wouldn’t stop being careful around that man, nonetheless let Yoongi give him Xiaoli.

“Therefore, I think the cards tossed themselves without me touching them, but still, this will be your call.” Y/N was eyeing him with suspicion. He never put any deciding matter in her hands before, nor did he share that much from clan matters, even when he suggested she could be involved as much as she wished.

“I want your word that he is a good man.” She said finally. With her glass in hand, she sipped the fiery liquid, scrunching her face at the taste. “Promise me, Yoongi,” her voice trembled, the plea she had held within her finding its voice. “Promise me that he’s a good man, that she’ll be safe with him.”

“Of course, he is. She’ll be better off with him. I promise.” He answered. A softness lingered in his gaze, a tenderness that bore the weight of unspoken promises.

“Father will be pissed.” She said to him, expecting any reaction. Y/N’s grip on the glass tightened, the cold surface pressing into her palm.

A wry smile tugged at his lips, a fleeting acknowledgment of the complexities that had marred their familial relationships.

“We have weathered such storms before, my dear.”

“Something tells me, this isn’t why you wanted me to come.” Said she, with determination in her tone.

A sigh escaped him, the weight of his responsibilities etched into his features. His hands raked through his dark hair; a gesture borne of frustration. “Can’t I just simply long for spending time with you, my dear?” his voice is gentle and inviting.

“It’s more than that,” she pressed, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“You constantly keep disobeying me, love.” He said a bit more harshly than he wanted. Y/N frowned slightly. She knew he was right; she had been defying his orders and going against his wishes, seeking an escape route whenever she could.

“How did you manage to sway them all? My mother, my sister, even Kai.” She asked suddenly, her voice held a venomous edge. A chuckle escaped him, laden with both amusement and resignation. Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed.

“Maybe because they know this is God’s will, and it was meant to be.” He straightened himself in the chair, fighting his own fight with his frustrated mind. The young leader thanked and prayed to God every night for granting him her as a life companion. He, however, knew that she needed to be tamed.

Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed. The next words just happened to be forbidding the unforgivable.

“To hell with you and your God,” the words escaped her lips in a defiant hiss, a proclamation that cut through the air like a blade. And this was the last straw for Yoongi.

coming soon

©pennyellee. please do not repost

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss @secfir - @btspurplesky @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin

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pocket-archer · 4 months

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Don’t Tap the Glass AU - notes & timeline

I'll be writing a journal entry style fic for DTTG and posting occasional comics so this is technically spoilers but posting anyway since it's been a long time coming. Feel free to read if you like 👍

internal conflict within the Shimada castle leading to the deaths of two brothers and the clan disappearing

some time after (years?) the brothers are reborn as an oni (self-inflicted curse) and minor god (revered as a tragic victim)

centuries later, Cassidy in his early hunting days is attacked by a lycan (deadlock) and to prevent the curse, dismembered his own arm (infected area)

blood loss and shock from doing this nearly kills him but one of Death’s workers (Nevermore!Reaper) notices how stubbornly he’s clinging to life and makes a deal with him (blackwatch)

Cassidy becomes an Undead, able to maintain his human form unless weak or when it’s time to do his part of the deal on the anniversary of his “death”

his deal grants him the ‘deadeye’, able to see who is marked for death and he has to bring them to the Reaper to keep extending his life

he later acquires the new arm for channelling the magic he lost when Turning, help with reaping, and is heavily enchanted to react to non-humans with a burning touch

Cassidy heavily relies on weapons more than his magic because it's not as strong as it used to be and more akin to practical effects or smaller attacks like smoke, stuns, small explosions (ei. wind effect during deadeye, flashbang/magnet grenade, etc) and feels draining to use at the same time as keeping his human appearance

Cassidy finds a way to stay away from innocents whenever the anniversary comes around, feeling more justified in his reaping if he’s taking out those who deserve it. Refusing to reap will end their deal and the Reaper will finally take Cassidy himself

at some point, Cassidy meets Genji Shimada, a traveller who he suspects is also not human, but Genji never brings it up

Cassidy is hired by a “priest” (Zenyatta) to capture the oni lurking within the abandoned Shimada castle, frightening the citizens of Hanamura

The priest warns of a horrible fate if the oni is left alone

Genji vouches for the Priest, and explains some of Hanamura’s legends to Cassidy, who figures Genji must’ve fled from there from the association with Shimada castle, or displaced when his ancestor’s clan fell apart.

bounty money was good too

Cassidy travels to Hanamura to hunt the oni, who he is able to find because the oni is peculiarly marked for death

He wonders if that means the priest will be killing the oni himself after the delivery

Cassidy wins the fight because being Undead has its perks (still hurts tho) and the Oni fought very distractedly (lack of tactic/sense)

He seals the Oni in a lantern that is covered in a variety of seals as oni are not something he hunted before, and he rarely takes jobs involving escorting a live target, so better safe than sorry. He made the seals himself

The oni in its sealed form is surprisingly chattier and snarky, as it didn’t talk during the fight. The two butt heads and bicker throughout the journey. At this point, Cassidy doesn’t consider the oni to really be a person with the rumours that this oni was born out of the tragedies in Shimada castle alone

funnee hijinks of avoiding other monsters or hunters

Vampire hunter!Brigitte encounter

Banshee!Moira encounter

The more human the oni spoke and acted, the more Cassidy questioned what it really was

The amount of detours and unexpected delays of journeying with a live target threw off Cassidy’s predicted drop-off time. The energy on maintaining the multiple seals is draining.

Both Cassidy and oni become more irritable and tired, and argue until Cassidy decides to stop talking to the oni and focus on the job

His Undeath anniversary is soon and the only person around for Cassidy to reap would be his own target

Cassidy detours again to a town to find suitable souls to reap

Oni has become significantly quieter and falling asleep more often. Getting weaker.

The Oni shares that he finally figured out what Cassidy was, through the different magic signatures that carried into the seals. He knows that Cassidy is Undead, and that it is ironic that they’re both cursed. He falls asleep once more, as Cassidy realized that the oni was also once a human.

Encounter with a disguised witch (Mercy) who took notice of his charge, tries to cast an enchantment on Cassidy to hand over the weakened oni for herself

Cassidy catches her act, burning her hand in a handshake

Village is revealed to be false, all the people in it are puppet illusions by the witch. (looks like ragdoll!echos) Cassidy cannot reap.

Time runs out, the Reaper comes for Cassidy

Oni wakes up during the confrontation, overhearing the argument, Cassidy being offered an extension if he reaps the oni whose time was long due, just like him, and overhears that Cassidy has decided not to hand off the oni to anyone

Cassidy doesn’t want to do the Reaper’s dirty work anymore,

they fight

the lantern shatters, releasing the oni

the two of them together fight until the Reaper retreats, vowing to return even before the next deadline

now freed, Cassidy offers for the oni to attack him back, in revenge for being sealed

the oni refuses, they talk instead

Cassidy finally learns that the oni’s name is Hanzo

Hanzo asks more about Cassidy's deal with the Reaper, about Deadeye, and he figured he was marked for death. He asks if he's still marked, Cassidy reluctantly admits that he is, but it's been wavering.

they decide to continue to travel together

Cassidy laments that he will not receive the bounty for turning Hanzo in. Hanzo mentions that there was abandoned wealth back at the Shimada castle. They go back for it as their first destination together.

Cassidy sent a letter back to Genji for the Priest. He will not be completing the hunt.

The Priest shakes his head at this, amused, but strangely optimistic about this development. Genji leaves to search for them instead.

Cassidy learns that Hanzo does not remember everything from when he was human. He remembers his name, yes he always had this tattoo, his family was of summoners, he did something to have been cursed to become this. He thinks he cursed himself in his final moments. He doesn’t remember what his familiars were, nor anyone in his clan

Cassidy mentions Genji as the one who told him about Hanamura’s legends, and that Genji might be one of Hanzo’s technical descendants since they share a last name. Hanzo doesn’t recognize the name Genji.

Hanzo learns that Cassidy enchanted one of his bag’s pockets for hammerspace. Cassidy uses this for multiple hats. Hanzo hates that.

Werewolf!Winston encounter. They fight until Winston turns back. They thought he would’ve turned back into a human. He didn’t.

Hanzo eventually remembers what he looked like as a human, for a supply run into town where he needed to be disguised like Cassidy

Same town has Einherjar!Zarya who is also a hunter, not an active one, but protects that town. She keeps squinting at them.

Anytime time they try to mention/question about Winston's.. condition (gorilla), something interrupts them

the witch returns, having captured the Reaper (Jack-o-Lantern!Reaper) as a servant after being denied the oni

Cassidy makes a new deal with the Reaper, that he will forget about Cassidy and Hanzo’s souls in exchange for being broken out

[more time for adventures here]

Will-o-wisp!Tracer and Satyr!Lucio “help” them through a forest

catch a ride on a ship with pirate!Torbjorn, warning from pirate!Baptiste about monsters in the water, (unseen, pirate!Ana in background talking w Genji)

Siren!Symmetra encounter

here comes the giant fist (swamp monster!doomfist)

Ana is there after they arrive, makes fun of them for getting attacked by the swamp monster

There’s a circus! (roadhog, junkrat, soldier)

Genji finally finds them. Hanzo remembers. He does not take it well.

Hanzo's death marker revealed to be referring to his humanity and identity, as being in isolation as an oni he would've eventually lost himself. Suddenly remembering what he did and being overcome with the emotions drives him out of control

Genji and Hanzo fight (reference to dragons animated short except big oni attacks), and meanwhile Cassidy recreates his seals to suppress the frenzy to help Genji's words reach Hanzo

probably some crying but 👍

Other notes/encounters

Widowmaker is a monster hunter

Sombra is another monster hunter (knows Cassidy’s secret)

Kiriko (Matsuri?) is still a shrine maiden, or helps care for it, specifically the shrine Genji is connected to. They hang out :)

Ramattra is a necromancer that puts souls in dolls and bots (haunted doll!Ashe, victorian doll!Echo, gearbot!Bastion? what a weird family...) (this means ashe technically appears twice but it's possible because the lycan attack was years ago and she could've died since then and doll!ashe isn't the same

Enchanted armour Pharah and Reinhardt if they appear

No one ever sees Zenyatta's face under the cloth, and Genji only ever describes it vaguely

Junkenstein's Revenge and Wrath of the Bride could still happen to a degree but very different dialogue/origins for the four heroes

Cassidy can't see death markers through glass so he couldn't see Hanzo's having changed during travels because of the lantern

Cassidy can safely lose and reattach limbs as an undead but can't heal/regenerate too much lost mass on his own. He cannot have his head or heart pierced, that could still kill him

Hanzo has to physically eat as well for strength so part of him getting weak over time was seals, the other was cuz he was starving. He could eat people technically, but tries to stick to animals, and magic-adjacent stuff is more filling (he got a couple birds from the fight with Reaper)

Genji's abilities as a deity are wind and weather based (swift strike no cooldowns) and he can still summon his dragon familiar from before. He still uses weapons unlike Hanzo who is more melee now as an oni (though has storm related effects like lightning)

They probably stop by the town that had Zarya and Winston every once in a while because it's actually a chill town once they get to know you

#dont tap the glass #dttg #overwatch #overwatch au #hanzo shimada #cole cassidy #yeehan #mchanzo #long post under cut

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years

Text

A Deal With the Devil

TW: Violence, language, smut, drug use, blood due to virginity loss. PURE FILTH ;)

SUMMARY: Every Kook party was the same. Trust fund kids taking out their ‘frustrations’ via drugs too strong and alcohol too sweet, all while comparing their latest purchases, golf scores, and recent fucks. But this had been the first time you arrived with a purpose...And that ‘purpose’ stood a few feet over six inches with his expected polo and daddy’s money rolled into a tube to use as a vestibule for consumption.

Rafe Cameron...

WORD COUNT: 4,000

The Deal With the Devil

“Two fifty a line...” He spoke to you, not even bothering to look up at you for even a second as he fingered the string of cash given to him as payment. Meanwhile, your eyes came to the collection of white powder that seemed so innocuous in comparison to the warnings around it-much like its host. You knew its effect, you knew it was reckless, irresponsible, and plain stupid. But you came here tonight to indulge.

Bowing forward, rolled Grant between your petite yet perfectly polished pinch, you followed suit to the same kooks who were always present at these parties. Inhaling the bitter burn of the stimulant, a rush of adrenaline from the regret of what was to come left you temporarily breathless as you corrected yourself. Yet any side effect expected of what you had consumed paled in comparison to the blue eyes having now fixated on you.

“Well THAT was about three...” He explained, holding out his palm. The display of his long fingers forced your neglected satisfaction to conjure the most illicit of visions by his hand alone.

“I...I only have a fifty...” You confessed sheepishly, removing the bill from your pocket as everyone around the table suddenly drew quiet. It was almost as if you had insulted him, which you would have believed, if not for the way a smile crept over his full lips. Yet his lack of response left you desperate for an apology he didn’t exactly deserve.

“Maybe we can do an I-owe-you?” You offered, your tone peaking in hope as he scoffed before lifting his right arm. Set along his forearm, offering an unintentional flex that was purely natural from his toned physique, showcased a burn mark extending on his otherwise sun-kissed skin.

“Nah...I don’t DO favors anymore...” He began to shake his head, leaving you fearful of what it meant to be on the receiving end of his disapproval. But the way your confidence became grated into silent fear; the furrow of your brows draining your features into worry as your bottom lip became captive between your teeth, his focus would lift to you. You were unaware that the way you appeared, needy and desperate, had been enough to quell something eager within him.

“Maybe there IS another way you could offer payment...” He intrigued you as your eyes illuminated with wonder before feeling his eyes suddenly lower the extent of your curves. It had been the first time tonight that his attention came to the efforts put into your appearance. But you didn’t know if you should revel in this newfound focus from the kook prince himself or be terrified in it.

“I don’t have...” You moved to object, unaware of what he was in reference to exactly, before he was suddenly close enough to you to ensure nobody else could hear the words he spoke dominantly to you.

“You have a choice here, sweetheart. Either you get me the rest of my money by the end of the night...Or you give the rest of your night to me.” You knew it was immoral, cheap even. And yet, a part of you didn’t care. You adored the way his eyes seemed to devour you, lips parting in anticipation that curved into a smirk when he realized he held your attention. It was only then that you managed to regain some sense of confidence as you leaned slightly into him.

“You want to...collect your payment out here?” He was amused by your bold reaction as he motioned to Topper, a blonde pretty boy half high and a quarter drunk.

“Sort the rest of this out, yeah?” Before you could object, your wrist was pulled to follow his quick steps, each time your soles collided with the smooth wood supporting you, your nerves inflated with uncertainty. You knew the rumors of the eldest Cameron were intense, a reputation of a good but swift fuck that left those he took to his bed with souvenirs of his dominance and possessiveness. But you couldn’t lie to yourself how it excited you to be on the receiving end of this.

“What are you doing?” He questioned as he closed the door to the bedroom, turning to find you playing with the zipper of your dress.

“You want me to keep it on?” You questioned, confused and slightly curious about such a question. Most guys would already be halfway to their release to see any girl willing to get naked. But not Rafe. Not with you. You immediately worried he wasn’t attracted to you before finding those usually light irises darkening to you and leaving your insecurities silenced.

“I want to savor this debt. Two fifty is more than just a quick fuck.” You fought the smirk from spreading your content lips into development as he began to run his forefinger across his bottom lip while cementing his feet in front of you.

“But I want to know...How many other people have you been with?” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Once again, you knew most guys wouldn’t care as long as they got the same release that you would have given others. Because of this and the slight irritation of your arousal fading from the interrogation and hesitancy, your response came out almost in a scoff.

“You want to talk?” He answered in objection, stepping forward to you as if willing to swipe across your cheek for speaking against him. Yet he didn’t do anything but use those intimidating eyes to silence you and make you regret questioning him.

“I want to know if I’m dealing with a slut or a goodie-two-shoes-” Your eyes narrowed to his choice of words.

“I’m not a slut.” The usual insult would have enraged you if it had come from the lips of anyone else. But there was something about the way he spoke it that exhilarated you. And yet, you didn’t want him to know that. At least not yet.

“I know I’M clean...I just want to know-”

“Two.” You lied, wanting to stop the conversation and get to the distraction of his touch as this was becoming too intense to stomach. His close proximity and abundance of his cologne leaving you dizzy, you wanted his touch. You needed it. It’s why you were here...

“Well baby girl...” His fingers began to pull the edges of his shirt upwards until revealing his torso to your gluttonous view. You were shameless in appreciating the way his body was well sculpted in details that made him defined but not too bulked-perfect and even better than you had imagined.

“Those two other dicks will pale in comparison to what I’m going to do to you...” You repressed the moan from leaving your lips as he returned closer to you, well aware of how just him moving in your direction had you dripping for him.

“But...I’m going to take my sweet time...making you work for every cent...Can’t forget about interest...” He teased, that arrogant smirk occupying his clean shaven bone structure, as he moved to a chair set across the space that was suddenly too small.

“Knees.” The simple direction spoke with the tone somehow both sweet and sultry, had you moving to obey. Dropping to the level of his waist, you were drowning in your own arousal to the way he looked at you with such darkness behind such pretty features. The mischievous smile spread across his face only fueled your ambition as you pulled apart his ensemble while he prepared your hair into a makeshift ponytail. In a way that was almost painful, his grip tightened, teetering that line between dominant and dangerous.

“Go ahead...” He directed, your eyes coming to the bulge already intimidating you. However, you were not one to back down from a challenge. For this, you took a deep breath and exposed him to you, suddenly realizing the origin behind his consistent arrogance. He was huge. Not that you had much to compare it to, and yet, it was enough to make you look up at him with uncertainty, all while he continued that smirk.

“There we go…” He praised the feeling of your breath hot against his domineering cock acting as a prelude to what was imminent. You knew enough from the media, literature, and your more overzealous friends to know to cover your teeth with your lips. But the way his body reacted to your actions led you to base each following motion on his tense shifts.

“Fuck…” He breathed at the feeling of your tongue running beneath his length, the kneel of defiance you held against your own gag reflex, and the way your hand twisted at his base to make up for what you couldn’t swallow.

“Taste good, baby?” You nodded, addicted to how you pleased him. The way his eyes fluttered within the back of his head pushed you further to damn that sensitive reflex and allow him the availability of your throat. Immediately to this, his hand came into a grip behind your head, denying you breath while he pumped himself into the recess you allowed, as tears began to cascade down your blushed cheeks.

“Look at you…crying and shit…” He scoffed as his reaction left you frozen in the fear you had suddenly lost him.

“Did I…do something?” You questioned in shaky inquisition, eyes lowering in shame as he shook his head.

“I told you…I’m getting every cent worth…” When your face twisted into further confusion, he moved closer to you to ensure he held your attention. His thumb and pointer finger lazily set in some form of dominance over your jaw.

“You don’t get to get me off that quickly…Not until I’ve had enough…” He noticed something in your expression that he couldn’t help but note aloud.

“You know, for someone who just deepthroated me like a porn star, you’re shaking like you’re a virgin…” Your blush worsened, revealing to him what you believed you could have hidden until this moment. That laugh behind his taunt lessened when he realized what he had just uncovered.

“You’re a virgin?” This question was somehow the most erotic thing he had asked the entire night as it left you feeling unworthy, dirty, even shameful.

“Does it make you change your mind?” You questioned, wrapping yourself into a hug for comfort as he scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Knowing I’m the only one that gets to…” It was almost as if the thought aloud made him lose all ability to sound intelligible, not that he was exactly known for such things. However, it was enough to bring a newfound confidence to cushion your inexperience. And yet, the realization was enough to carry the excitement from his cock to his expression as it widened with agreeability.

“Stand up.” He ordered as you obeyed quickly, feeling him pull you onto his leg.

“Poor thing…” His fingers were unkind to your hips, and you loved the possessiveness behind it.

“Anyone ever touched you?” He questioned somewhat swiftly as if more impatient for your answer than the action as you shook your head.

“Do you touch yourself?” You swallowed hard, shamed by society as it was ‘unladylike’ and ‘taboo’, yet you could only deny the pulsation between your thighs for so long before needing release. Each time, envisioning Rafe on the forefront of your fantasies, leading this moment to feel as more of a dream than reality.

“There are so many things I want to do to you…” He cocked his jaw for a moment, his thumbs pulling the skirt of your dress high enough until he could feel the fabric of your panties. He began at your hip, effortlessly gliding to your core, rubbing over your cloth covered clit as you shifted from the foreign feeling of his touch. But in the moments you believed he would be kind, his hand suddenly moved to the back of your neck, fingers wrapped in dominance from one pulse point to another as the signet ring upon his dominant hand sat in contrast to your skin set on fire.

“Gonna stretch you out for me…m’kay?” Using the grip at your neck, he pulled up upwards until you were set back on his middle finger, penetrating you where nobody had before. The sudden twist of your expression pulled his lips into a grimace as he was pleased with how you followed his guidance.

“Gonna try two…” He narrated, bringing his ring finger to join his thick digit. “Good girl-” You released a gasp at the praise, making you both aware of your private kink.

“You like being told you’re a good girl?” You nodded feverishly, gasping at the sudden curve of his fingers tightening a familiar pull within your stomach, a rarely exercised muscle that was being brought to life by his touch alone. Whatever anxieties you held in a reaction too over eager or novice mistakes turning him off were silenced as your body was allowed the ease of his effect. Knuckles embedded into your heat, squelching and sopping to his quickening motions, you would feel him chuckle to your desperate fingers tearing into his shoulders.

And then it stopped. On the edge of your orgasm, speaking a mix of groans and his name, came the abrupt cessation to the greatest pleasure you had been allowed.

“Rafe?”

“You owe ME, sweetheart…and I’m not done with you yet…” He now stood, lifting you momentarily, before placing you on your soles. However, your inability to stand up straight left you clinging to him as a devious chuckle pulled from his lips.

“Lay down.” He instructed as you mustered the courage to move forward with your failing steps, thankful it was only a few meters, before finding him directly in front of you. Without a word, he pulled his fingers to his lips, taking the taste of you with him, while groaning in approval.

“So fucking sweet…” Your chest rose in anticipation as he suddenly hooked your thighs until you were flat on your back and looking up at him, his curtained locks loose over his once soft eyes now perpetually sinful in the veil of lust.

“I’ll try to go slow at first…” He was surprisingly considerate of your virginity, perhaps a form of silent gratitude for giving it to him, to which only led you further into your desire for him.

“Please…” You breathed, unable to fathom the distance between you for another minute as he pulled in his bottom lip with his teeth, cocking his head to outline your folds, before motioning for your dress.

“Off.” You obeyed, lifting it over your torso to reveal your body to him. His eyes began at the details concealed prior to now, adorning the way your curves were laid exclusively for him, a thought made more lustful in knowing he was the only one that had seen you this way.

A deep breath of pleasure left his lips as his inflamed cock head was now taken between your folds, teasing the barrier that would leave you ‘tainted’ from the image you had preserved until now. Yet you couldn't care less of anything else aside from feeling him inside of you. The way you pulsed, the way you were soaked, you were too desperate to care for what you were losing in comparison to what you would be gaining.

“Deep breath-” You obliged, stomach and chest pulled hollow to the immense pain leaving you to wince. Almost as if moving to soothe you, he withdrew, only to push beyond the confirmation of your virginity once again.

“Ah!” You bellowed in a shriek, his girth too intense to remain silent. However, he would withdraw once more, this time, to find the evidence of your truth staining his length. His eyes found you beneath him, watching him eagerly, as he pulled his fingers to the blood before consuming it behind his lips.

“Rafe-” You breathed, the sudden plunge of his cock silencing what would have been a plea for him to continue. The pain that began the shedding of your virtue quickly shifted to pleasure as he filled you to perfection, pleasure added by his thumb circling your swollen clit, already brought to the edge once before.

“So fucking tight…” He grunted over you, leading your moans to release to the air around him.

“Hold on to me…” He paused for a second, pulling you over him, remaining embedded inside of you, as you now sat in a straddle over him and he was ass-flat on the bed. In a rather impressive sweep of his fingers, your bra was unclasped and he had your closest bosom between his teeth, pulling himself as deep into you as he could. His arm wrapped the width of your hips, baring down onto your skin, as he began to lift into you in motion once again.

“Bounce baby…Ride me, baby girl…” Your motivation was reignited by his words as he would guide you the first few moments until you no longer needed his assistance. With nails digging into his shoulders and knees allowing you stability to rise and fall as he requested, you would feel him submerge and pull from your own actions.

“Rafe, I’m gonna-” You began to plead over him as his motions suddenly stopped and his hand came to the back of your neck.

“You don’t get to fucking come.” He was breathless, wearing your claw marks as trophies, as he forced you to rise slowly and take him once again, doing so as you shook with the continuation of his thumb applying those decadent circles of both pleasure and pain.

“Do YOU think this was worth a quarter of a grand? Huh?” He licked his lips momentarily.

“Please…I want to…I need to…I’ll let you do anything to me..” You begged, the coil within your stomach prepared to snap as he would only laugh at your plea.

“So desperate to come, you’re making yourself sound like a whore…”

“I’m not-” He silenced you by quickening those fingers once again, making you shudder against him.

“You’re MY whore for tonight…This tight little pussy only mine…Yeah?”

“Yes!” You agreed with a moan.

“All fours…I’m done being nice.” Your eyes widened to his words.

THIS was nice?

And yet, lifting him off of you, you obeyed, feeling him climb off of the bed to leave you in abandonment.

“Rafe?” You questioned, silenced by the sting of his hand on your ass.

“You want to take MY coke without paying? You want to be irresponsible? AND you expect for me to let you come?” He tsked his tongue, his hands suddenly pulling your hips higher until you were rounded completely to him-revealed in ways you never believed you would allow.

“I’m sorry…”

“Little too late now, huh…” Another smack sent you forward as his grip boomeranged you back into him. It was only a second of silence before a light substance sent your head turning back to him. You watched as he had drawn a line of cocaine over the dimples of your back.

“Sit still or I’ll fuck your throat instead.” You swallowed hard, staying as still as you could before feeling him inhale off of your skin, a breath of satisfaction leaving his focus.

“Knees.” He ordered as you were now upright against him that your back would be flush with his chest if he were to come closer. He would, but only to where you could feel his breath over your ear.

“This is for ME. YOU are here for me, understand?” You nodded, his fingers, holding a small mountain of coke on his fingertip, now rubbing the substance over your nipple. The numbness caused you to press your thighs together as he slapped your hip.

“I SAID don’t move.” You nodded.

“Sorry…”

“You will be…” He took hold of your hair, bending you back down, pistoning into you with his rigid shaft. Your need for his fingers on your clit sent yours there as consolation, only to be intercepted by his harsh grip wrapping them around your back as reins to burrow further inside of you.

“Such a good little slut…” He commented, your heart twinging at the title that you were beginning to embrace coming from his breathlessness. “Go on, baby…cry out for me…” He grinned, hearing you groan to the pillows set before you.

“More!” He nearly growled at your words, pulling himself deeper into you, one hand remaining over your unified wrists as the other pulled your hair backwards to him.

“You want more? You think you can take it? Huh? Take all of me in your tight little cunt?”

“Yes! Please!”

“Tell me you want it! Tell me you want my cock.” He ordered as you were too eager to allow any remaining nerves to silence you.

“I NEED your cock!” You corrected his command as he purred in approval.

“Tell me who owns this fucking pussy!” He continued, his thrusts growing sloppy and almost violent as the beads of sweat accumulated from his impressive stamina connected at your spine.

“You Rr-Rafe! You!”

“That’s it…FUCK!” He groaned behind you, pulling you upright against him as your fingers wrapped in desperation to the headboard colliding with the wall in front of you. To your gratitude, his fingers returned to your beckoning clit as he was relentless, your cries making him grin, all while he continued his own stride inside of you.

“Beg me to let you come…” He spoke into your ear, your jaw set apart in moans.

“Please Rafe…”

“Beg me-” He commanded through clenched teeth as something strong suddenly pulled from within you, your body shuddering against him as he bent you further forward against the headboard itself. Your first vaginal orgasm and he made you squirt…

“Shit! I’m gonna come!” You nodded to his words, your own release bringing a fresh numbness synonymous with the drug still on your nipples, as he used your satisfaction to ride out his own. Your jaw was pulled back to face him, a passionate kiss leading teeth and tongues in a clash of dominance, sending you to the side of abandonment as he suddenly withdrew from you.

Heaving out of breath, you pulled the covers back over your body, turning to face him, walking in stride back to the edge of the bed.

“Tomorrow…Four o’clock.” He explained, throwing your phone back onto the bed as you weren’t aware how it had gotten into his possession until now. You pulled the screen to view, finding an address that left you confused.

“But the debt is paid-”

“I told you, sweetheart…” He licked his lips, hesitant to allow himself a breath, before continuing to speak.

“There’s interest…” He leaned down to you, taking your jaw in his firm grasp.

“And I thought I was fucking someone with experience…so consider this a taste of what you still owe me…” His breath teased your lips for what could have been a sweet kiss as you left you abandoned.

“Next time…no panties.” He grinned, collecting yours as a trophy that were a mystery to how they left your hips, as he left you within the bed, recovering from your loss of virginity.

Once you were able to walk again, you collected your clothes and redressed in slow succession while feeling the extent of the evidence left by him. In the mirror across from the bed, you found bruises from his fingerprints left as rewards of your time together, sending your content lips to pull into a smile.

But it wasn’t until you descended the steps of the nameless kook’s house that you found the eyes looking at you in a mix of judgment and jealousy, with a few even commending you with applause and winks. You ignored the blush, looking over to find Rafe having rejoined his group, not bothering to lift a glance at you once again. But it didn’t matter. You got what you came for, slipping the collection of hundreds that could have easily have paid for your ‘debt’ to him back into the pocket of your dress and leaving with a grin of satisfaction.

#rafe cameron #rafecameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #obx smut #drew starkey #rafe smut #outer banks fanfiction

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weretheones · 1 year

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All You Got | Part 3

Part 3: The Desperate Type

Series Summary: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count:  4.9k Warnings: description of injury, blood. A/N: early update! i was just so excited to post this lol. considering how much action was in the last two parts, i figured these two deserved a break. but while they might be clear of danger (for now), theres still some nasty tension to deal with...

No, no, no.

Your head snapped left, right, then left again. It was the same blur of trees, the same piles of ashes, and the same empty spot ahead of you no matter how many times your eyes ran across the camp.

With a deep inhale, you tried to soothe the increasingly frantic thoughts in your mind before they became rampant. Inhale. Pick away the moments of silence to cling onto so that you could just think.

Daryl had left you alone. Defenceless and hurt— asleep.

You weren’t sure for how long, exactly; the fire burned to ashes hours ago by the look of it, and mid-day rays of sun landed across the scatter of leaves where he’d been sitting last. He could’ve slipped away in the middle of the night or just as dawn was breaking. Hell, maybe he left the second your eyes shut.

The steadily increasing pound of your heart seemed to drown out the muted throb of your leg. Enough that when you gripped the bark of the tree behind you and pulled yourself to a stand, you barely hissed as your weight shifted onto the hurt muscle. The tending of your wound had been done well, considering the circumstances; it helped counteract the effects of yesterday’s sprint, which couldn’t have been good for a healing injury.

But, neither were the dull teeth of the dead ripping you apart.

Stood upright with a quiet prayer to find a glimpse of that angel-winged vest beyond the tree’s cover, you scanned the area. A small bottle on the ground caught your eye. The blue label was peeling. Familiar.

The ibuprofen he’d given you.

You gingerly bent down to pick it up and dry swallowed another pill in anticipation of the day ahead— regardless if he’d really left you behind, or not, you knew you couldn’t stay at this camp much longer. With no walls, even if you had your knife, neither of you were safe.

As if to remind you of that fact, a branch snapped in the distance.

Still clutching the tree’s curved bark, you leaned forward a couple of inches and peaked toward the general direction of the noise.

Please don’t be a biter.

Then, every curse and panicked thought slipped away from the simple sight of that crossbow strap wrapped across his chest. A furry animal hung limp in his grip and his shoulders were low underneath his poncho.

It was obvious he was exhausted. Still, the sight of you standing upright made his other hand tighten around the strap of his bow and his shoulders tense again. In an almost ironic manner— considering he still had all your weapons— you raised the hand that wasn’t holding you steady in surrender.

You gave a timid shrug. “Figured I shouldn’t just sit here all day.”

He scoffed something under his breath. From the way his eyes slipped back down to the ground, you assumed that answer was soothing enough. It might’ve been arrogant to assume he regarded you as a significant risk, but it was clear that he wasn’t the type to take those chances, anyway.

As he walked past, prey still in hand, your attention followed; you hopped on your good leg to angle yourself the way of him and that rabbit.

A low growl rumbled from your stomach.

Of course, he heard it, glancing back at you in the second between straddling the log to your left and slicing into the animal’s belly open. Your grip on the tree dropped as you lowered yourself back onto the soft ground, watching him pull out the guts and bring those ashes back to life. Throughout the entire process, he never once said anything, never gave you more than a glance before his attention was back on the slow rotation of meat over fire. Not even a whisper of an apology, no sorry for letting you think I just left!

But you weren’t even sure if that mattered anymore. Certainly not the way it did ten minutes ago, because all you could think about was how every brush of the breeze against your face, laced with smoke and the smell of cooked meat, practically had you drooling.

When your stomach rumbled again, you finally asked, “Would you share?”

Quick to take a bite, he didn’t show any sign that he heard you, even if he’d been aware of every shift in your spot and growl of hunger, prior. Your chapped lips parted again, ready to plead a second time just to soothe that hollow ache in your gut.

Something hot fell in your lap, and that smell of cooked meat was at its most intense. You looked down to see he threw a leg your way.

You’d been hungry before— gone three days without a single bite of anything, once. The lightheadedness and that rumbling in your stomach, like something caving in on itself, weren’t new sensations to you, or anyone else in this world. Thankfully, you also knew the sweet relief of that first bite, and it never failed to shine a beacon of hope on an otherwise dull world, even if all you were biting into was a dry, unseasoned rabbit leg.

A good while passed in silence. The crack of the fire died down and the rustle of the wind was softer than before. It was like everything around you was settling, and you briefly wondered if the anxiety from the expanse of trees and the overwhelming unknown around you sparked from that dull hunger in your gut, after all.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t you who finally broke that peace.

“Ya should change tha’.” Daryl nodded to your leg after he swallowed his last bite.

Your eyes fell to the makeshift bandage.

“I don’t have another shirt.”

“Then find somethin’.” He threw the bone into the pile of ashes. “’S gonna get infected if ya keep tha’ on too long.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed. “Got any ideas?”

Elbows locked around his bent knees, he looked down at the light shine of grease coating his fingers. His brow was straight, his mouth in a tight line, and even that pessimistic part of your mind couldn’t claim it was an effort to find a witty remark; he was serious about whatever he was thinking.

“Should be a town not too far from ‘ere. You’d have a better chance’a findin’ somethin’ there.”

It seemed the mix of food and pain relievers did you some good. The tree’s truck was less necessary to stand up, and beyond some dull pain when you put your weight on the leg, it didn’t hurt as bad.

With a weak smile, you asked, “Mind showing the way?”

“I’ll take ya there.” He stood, too. “But then you ’n I are goin’ our separate ways.”

Your smile fell. “Why?”

“Cause ya ain’t my problem.” He slid his crossbow over his back. “I already helped ya more than once. We’re even.”

“I can keep helping you,” you said adamantly, though that slight shake of anxiety undermined your words. “I’m not always gonna be hurt. I—I know how to deal with the biters, how to scavenge. I’m smart, I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” you huffed a weak laugh. “I’m not asking you to babysit me or to like me because you probably have every right to hate me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still all you got.”

He scoffed, “Didn’t peg ya for the desperate type.”

Daryl certainly knew how to get under your skin— already— but you’d done much worse than stick by the side of a grumpy man in order to survive before.

Your demeanour turned pensive.

“No one can make it alone now.”

Daryl’s glare lost its arrogance for a moment; a blink of contemplation.

That seemed to sway him, in or out of your favour, you weren’t sure yet. The way his features tightened, like they had when he first mentioned the town, made you wonder what heavy thoughts plagued him this time.

He turned on his heel and walked ahead.

Uncertain if it was even worth it to call out after a man as stubborn as he was proving himself to be, time and time again, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Keep up,” he barked over his shoulder, and your chin snapped back up. “I ain’t carryin’ ya this time.”

You limped behind.

Compared to the running, falling, and general panic of yesterday, it was relatively easy to keep up with Daryl’s pace today. Without biters on your tail, the two of you fell into a comfortable stroll, weaving between trees with even breaths in your lungs. It helped that your leg was more heavy than painful, only a dull throb that echoed your heartbeat and the pace of your steps.

Even if the pain had been unbearable, if every nerve of your body was crying, begging, pleading for you to stop, you weren’t sure you’d be able to. There was a sinking feeling in your gut that Daryl might’ve kept walking, anyway. He suddenly seemed to be itching for an opportunity to leave you behind, which disoriented you. His constant reiteration that you weren’t his problem seemed to contradict his actions— coming back for you, wrapping your wound, giving you food.

You weren’t sure if you’d convinced him that the two of you should stick together— long term— back at that makeshift camp. He could’ve been planning to leave you behind the second you passed the town’s border. But, you did know that with an injured leg, even a healing one, it was really you that couldn’t survive alone.

Although, maybe it was a bit unfair to blame that fact on your leg. You’d never been a loner, not in this world, anyway. It was part of the reason you joined that camp, a couple of months before Brian did, even if you didn’t get along with everyone. It wasn’t that you had been lying to Daryl— you were smart. You knew how to sneak by and avoid the biters. You could find even the best-hidden supplies. Could think on your feet. You just never liked to be alone.

Safety in numbers and all that.

When you did reach the town, or at least the outskirts of its centre, he didn’t immediately bolt. That was as good a sign as any.

Too bad that was when the lightheadedness came back in full swing.

You stumbled to a stop, gripping the brick wall of what used to be a post office as an anchor. You closed your eyes and tried to fight through the inevitable exhaustion weighing you down. Blame it on the dehydration, mostly empty stomach, and, of course, the lingering effects of blood loss for an already bruised and battered body.

“Pharmacy’s jus’ up the road.”

Daryl was just up ahead, facing your way and squinting from the direct rays of sun. The light caught in small drops of sweat along his arms and the metallic shine of that heavy crossbow in his hand as he waited for you.

Too busy trying to ground yourself to that rough brick you palmed, you hadn’t even noticed that Daryl had stopped once the shuffle of your feet was no longer echoing his.

You took a deep breath and nodded once, pushing yourself forward. In four steps, you were able to finally wade past the worst waves of nausea and focus on the cool air in your lungs, instead.

Daryl glanced back at you once— twice— more.

“Hurtin’ again?”

“No. It’s just… everything else.”

Slightly, he nodded. That seemed to be the most care he had to offer— reserved looks your way and a quick question. He never reached out a hand or, God forbid, offered to carry you there.

Regardless, the pharmacy really was only up the road. After five or so minutes of mindlessly watching the debris lining the road dance in the wind while giving your head a chance to stop that slow spin, Daryl cleared the store and led you inside.

It was sparse and smelt like rot. Sun peeked through the windows, bare of the newspaper or wooden boards that usually lined shops nowadays. You could see most of the room, the sprawl of crushed supplies under fallen shelves, broken cardboard boxes across dirty, grey-tiled floors, and the yellow hue of water damage staining the ceiling. Past the store's clear windows and unlocked door, its welcoming appearance ceased.

You stepped forward and caught Daryl’s look from your peripheral.

“Sit down.”

“I told you I’m good at—”

Mid-sentence, he turned on his heel. You huffed a breath, then sat on the window ledge behind with a scowl. His overcautious behaviour was beginning to make you feel useless.

Daryl came back with fresh gauze and a small tube of topical antibiotic cream. And while that seemed like a damn miracle, you both knew what you really needed was a good rinse with clean water and soap, proper antibiotic treatment for the dirt and sweat that inevitably got into the wound, and a full dressing accompanied by crutches and a week's worth of rest. But all he could offer was what was held in his left hand.

It would have to do.

You shuffled deeper into the store and away from that clear window. As you sat on the cold ground and adjusted your leg so that it was laid straight out under a particularly strong ray of sunlight, you glanced up at Daryl, lingering a few feet away, on guard.

“How’d you know this was here, anyway?”

“Been through ‘ere before.”

He continued to stare out the window, oblivious, or maybe just indifferent, to your attempt at distraction.

Without another word, you got to work in silence. The knot he tied was good, and it took you a bit too long to figure out the way his fingers had weaved the fabric so that you could reverse the work of a stranger’s kindness. The shelves of the aisle were pressing into your back, but you were more focused on the reemerging pain in your leg. The raw wound was rubbed, gently, with a piece of gauze in a miserable attempt to clean it better. There were bits of dirt that you could see under the sun, bits that he probably missed with nothing but the moonlight to guide his first attempt.

Sometime in between your soft whines of pain, he grabbed your gun from the back of his pants, weighing the weapon in his hands. The way he held the weapon like it was heavier than his crossbow caught your attention. That, and you were thankful for a second to not stare at the shallow, swollen gash of red and pink ripping through your thigh. He seemed to have felt your stare burning through him, though, and his narrow eyes snapped your way.

A moment passed in silence, the two of you watching the other, intently, until you finally opened your mouth.

“I wasn’t gonna shoot you,” you confessed, “back at the cabin.”

He waited for you to continue.

“I was just scared.”

“Why’d ya come back for me?” he asked, gruff voice just above a whisper.

Deep in thought, you looked between him and the gun.

“You would’ve died.” Your eyes fell to the ground as you added under your breath, “Enough people already died that day.”

The slight furrow of his brow, the sudden blink, and every other subtle sign of confusion that flashed across his face weren’t lost on you. Above all else, you understood his bafflement; you’d saved a man who made it abundantly clear that his interest lay in your death. He was going to kill you. It wasn’t a spineless threat or a mean look that could’ve killed— no, he cocked that gun against your forehead. He felt the solid bone of your skull underneath, and if it hadn’t been for the threat of the dead, that bullet would’ve shattered your head open.

Again, his expression shifted in the silent tension, twisting into something that he might’ve not even known himself. Something hesitant and reserved.

You wrapped a fresh bandage around the wound as he watched.

“Then why the poncho?”

You paused.

“I know what it’s like to find something that belonged to someone you lost.”

Your eyes shifted, staring further than they saw. A moment passed like that, you lost in thought and him processing that meaning, until you sucked in a breath and reigned your attention back in.

You gave a half-hearted smile. “And… maybe I can be a bit foolish.”

His tone sounded more confused than scolding when he said, “Ya coulda died.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.” You laughed, “Wouldn’t that be ridiculous? Eaten alive because I went back to save a poncho.”

For a man that probably hated you, no less.

Those pensive, blue eyes slipped from your timid smile, falling on a much more serious sight; the flimsy wrap of your bandage. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying to wrap it well, but you didn’t exactly have experience tending to your own stab wounds, even if they were as shallow as this one. Your heart dropped an inch, teeth digging into your cheek from the worry that he was about to tell you exactly what an idiot you were, for almost dying and not being able to take care of yourself.

“’S too loose.”

You sighed because he was right. Working overtop of your jeans was difficult enough as it was, the risk of infection likely a scary percentage, so the bandage you did manage needed to be stronger. Tougher. Of course, he knew that.

Right as you began to undo the dressing, calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. Your breath caught in your throat, lips parting as shock froze you from the inside out. His hand moved yours, a stark contrast of warmth against your stiff fingers. He began to unravel the gauze from your grip. White tissue tangled, tied your cold fingers to his meticulous ones, briefly, until the rest of the bundle freed.

There was something incredibly tender about the whole moment; the silence, for once, was not weighed down completely by a thick, overwhelming tension. Though, whispers of it lingered, understandably so. This was the first time you saw him show you care, beyond saving you from the dead, and it gave you an idea of just how much work he must’ve put into getting you away from that first herd, wrapping your wound, and finding that house to hide in all while you were passed out.

And suddenly, despite all the mean glares and harsh questioning, hate seemed too strong a word for someone as merciful as Daryl proved.

“How’d ya get it, anyway?” he asked in a raspy tone.

You blinked. Inhaled, as if you’d forgotten to breathe until then.

“Brian,” you answered. “I kinda… jumped him when I realized what it was— what he was. He had a rock or something.”

He wrapped the last pass of the gauze. It was tight, but it was a lot stronger and safer than your attempt had been.

“Lucky he didn’t jus’ shoot ya.”

“He lost his gun while fighting that guy.”

Daryl tensed, leaning back to look up at you. The warmth at your leg was gone then— comfort sorely lacking as the chill of the tile and shelves surrounding you numbed your skin again. Yet, it was the look in his eye that almost made you shiver.

“Wha’ guy?”

“The one he was talking to at the fences… Rick, right?”

The clench of his jaw confirmed your suspicions.

“He’s not dead.” You leaned down an inch to catch his fallen gaze. “After Brian stabbed me, the woman he took hostage killed him. Probably would’ve killed me too if I hadn’t run away.” Your expression fell at the memory of that dark, vengeful look in her eye. “But I— I think they got out together.”

Daryl stared at you. It wasn’t cruel or indignant, but it wasn’t soft or kind, either. Blank, if anything, like he was holding everything back.

He turned toward the front of the store and then stood up. “‘M gonna look for more supplies. You stay ‘ere.”

The air sucked out of your lungs as a bolt of fear struck you.

“Daryl?” Your head turned to follow him. Lower lip quivering with blatant anxiety, you croaked out, “You’re not gonna leave me here, are you?”

The tension in his jaw didn’t release.

“Nah.”

You bit your lip. “I had to ask.”

He nodded, then left.

Not even an hour later, that little bell above the front door you’d been intently watching rang. Daryl’s broad frame passed through with that same backpack strapped behind him, only this time, it looked heavier than before.

God, please have water.

You sat up straight. “You’re back.”

“Told ya I would be.” He slid the bag off, dropping it to the ground in front of you. “Found somethin’ to drink.”

You smiled at that— actually smiled, teeth and all, and it might’ve been the first time he ever saw it. In your excitement, you didn’t even notice the way his hand steadied, hovering above the bag’s zipper as his attention stuck on you a second too long.

He pulled out a bottle of some orange sports drink. It was too sweet, swimming with higher sugar contents than you’d been exposed to in the last two years of scavenging and hunting, but it soothed the dryness of your throat, all the same. You drank at least half the bottle, glancing at him between big sips until he finally nodded.

“There’s only a couple more,” he said, screwing the cap back on.

“That’s fine.” You shook your head and wiped your chin. “That was good.”

“Found somethin’ to eat, too.” He pulled a silver can out of the bag. “Lemme heat it, first.”

You did. He started a small fire just outside the store, letting the can sit above the flames until the soup was boiling. When it was safe to touch, he trailed back through the store and he held it out to you with a single spoon.

Your brows furrowed at his otherwise empty hands.

“Ya need to eat.”

“But what about you?”

Passing the can off to you, he dug inside the front pocket of his patch-worked pants. He pulled out a granola bar, barely half the width of his wrist, and your heart dropped.

Hunger, pain, dehydration— he’d helped you through it all. And the combination of those feelings, with the heaviest weight of what you did to his home dragging your heart into the deepest pit of your stomach, brought a sudden tear to your eye. You looked down at the full can of vegetable soup sitting in your hands, the thin wisps of steam lifting off it, and that same tear rolled down your cheek.

If he saw it, he didn’t say anything about it. The air was heavy but silent. When you finally looked up and met his soft stare, laced with something you hadn’t seen in his blue eyes before, you knew he had seen the single trail down your face.

With a quick, nonchalant sniffle, you looked around the back room he’d led you into. The carpet was more comfortable than the title outside and considering that the floor was likely to be your bed for the night, you were thankful for the change in scenery. There were office supplies in the room; pens, paper, and a couple of filing cabinets. Placing the can down for a second, you reached over to grab a mug tossed on its side and used the end of your shirt to wipe away the dust.

When it seemed clean enough, you poured half the soup inside.

Daryl’s eyes never moved off you— not once— and that same hesitancy you saw earlier was back.

“Please,” your voice broke, gesturing the mug out closer to him.

His heavy stare lingered a second longer, then he finally accepted.

Daryl tilted the mug up, taking a large swig. It was only then that you allowed yourself to take a bite— no matter how hollow you had felt waiting for your next meal.

His throat tightened around the warm liquid. It tasted like bile. You were eating the soup just fine, except for the stray tears marking your face, so whatever he tasted, whatever that feeling was, aching deep in his chest, was coming from him.

Daryl had known anger his whole life. This wasn’t quite that. His chest tightened the same, muscles tensing, but there wasn’t a yell caught in his throat. No harsh words were about to slip off his tongue. And yet, if there was ever a time to be so, Daryl should have been angry now. Most people would— hell, even you had told him he’d had every right to hate you.

See, maybe that was the problem. Daryl had dealt with more than his fair share of liars, before and after the world ended. He practically knew how to sniff them out, but you were clean of it. So damn sincere with every word you said. Even the way you looked at him, big eyes, timid and full of remorse, almost made him feel guilty for every mean look he gave you.

Almost. Because then the red staining Hershel’s skin spotted his vision, and maybe he wasn’t angry at you, but he certainly couldn’t like you, either. Even if you had helped Carl and Rick. Even if you told him, with a pretty glimmer of hope in your eyes, that at least some of his people had made it out.

After you scraped the bottom of that can and your face dried, you said, “You should sleep. I can keep watch.”

Daryl looked back to the wooden door he led you through, the only thing between you and the rest of that open, vulnerable store.

“You’ve barely slept,” you added.

He still ignored you.

But then you sighed, and it was hard to miss the hint of guilt in your tone, “I get you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you. What I did, what I was a part of… It— It was horrible. I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you why I did what I did, how Brian convinced us to—”

Daryl closed his eyes. He already knew how manipulative and convincing the Governor could be. He’d seen people even as headstrong as Merle fall into line for him. A girl like you, compassionate and maybe a bit naive, would do the same, easily.

Merle had always called him the softer brother. That was probably one of the few things he was right about.

“I know wha’ he told ya.”

Your eyes widened, shocked by his interruption and admission.

“We dealt with him before. Called himself the Governor back then, ‘n he did the same thing. Found himself a group ‘n turned ‘em into soldiers. Lied about us, said we’d kill ‘em if they didn’t kill us first.”

You swallowed as a heavy feeling sunk into your stomach. “He said you— you killed his daughter. Took his eye and his town.”

“His daughter was a walker,” Daryl huffed. “They came after us, ’n when we scared ‘em off, the Governor opened fire. He slaughtered his soldiers. All of ‘em.”

You could only nod.

“The survivors, the ones he didn’t kill, we took ‘em in. Jus’ like Rick said.”

Your expression was blank as your gut twisted, afraid that any emotion you spared might come off as pitiful when really, all you felt was shame. An all-consuming dread amongst aching wishes that things hadn’t placed out the way they did, and a pang of sickening guilt that your hands had played a part in the reason why it happened—

“He woulda done wha’ he did with or without your help,” Daryl mumbled, “ya didn’t do tha’, he did.”

The swarming guilt didn’t clear, but it was certainly a surprise that Daryl was the one to slow your spiralling thoughts. And in the thick of your conscience, a wave of something else, something fervent and altruistic, filled the doubtful holes that shame left you.

Your voice was soft and steady when you said, “Maybe it wasn’t just Rick and that woman.”

Daryl looked at you, confused.

“More of your people could’ve gotten out.”

Daryl wasn’t expecting that. Just like you were shocked to find comfort in him, he was shocked to find bravery and confidence in you. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were those things. He knew you were, you went back for the damn poncho, for one— that was brave, reckless, but brave. But it was his family. He should’ve been the one to be firm on their survival. You should’ve held that pessimistic tone in your voice when you spoke about them— not him. And yet, here you were, fiddling a piece of string between your fingers, demeanour as gentle as you spoke, offering him a hint of hope to hold onto again.

“And, if you’re gonna look for them, I want to help you.”

Daryl’s eyes softened, but he hadn’t grabbed onto that hope, just yet. He wasn’t sure if he could.

“But you need to sleep, first. Please.”

That, he could do. Which was another surprise; you seemed to be full of those. He obliged and for the first time since you’d met Daryl, you held watch late into the night.

————————————————————

-> part four

A/N: I love this part hehe. they finally start to bond and him HELPING WITH THE BANDAGE??? I am screaming (at my own story lol...)

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

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fairybinie · 9 months

Text

KISS, DON’T TELL — 30: swear on us

synopsis: popular and menacingly wicked choi beomgyu has the entire senior class wrapped around his finger. the high school drama club has cherished y/n as their veteran for four years. to fulfill beomgyu’s graduation requirements, he must join y/n’s drama club despite his grudges. unbeknownst to everyone else, y/n and beomgyu have their history. they’ve kissed before (or more like y/n has bitten his lip to bleed) and beomgyu hasn’t lived it down ever since. y/n cannot stand this guy. they can make it through the entire year as the leads in their play, right?

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a/n: smau + written (1.8k). profanity, alcohol/drinking, grieving/loss, vomit/throwing up, kissing/blood. time has come to let y’all in on what happened 🫣

four years ago.

a house music playlist blares through several bluetooth devices to create one sonic sound. though, it all starts to become faint and tuned out the more y/n downs different kinds of alcohol.

the school year was officially about to finish in one week. y/n was getting their start in the school’s drama club, it was too bad that they couldn’t enjoy it. they were still grieving over the loss of their father and they were barely themselves. acting made them happy, but it reminded them too much of their father. they needed an escape, even if it was just for the night.

thankfully, y/n’s newly made friend, soobin, invited them to choi beomgyu’s party. y/n liked soobin, he seemed like a keeper and clearly he was already looking out for their best interest. apparently, beomgyu was throwing this party as a congratulations to all freshmen for completing their first year of high school. this was the distraction y/n needed.

y/n wasn’t intending on drinking, but they figured it would make the forgetful sensation they were desperate for stronger. that’s what they were tonight, desperate. they’ve never sipped alcohol in their entire life and it clearly showed. everyone here seemed so experienced, like they knew what drinks to blend, how to chug it down, even shared laughs after. y/n could feel the effect in their bloodstream now and it was getting to their head, they could barely keep a grip on the floor. it’s too bad soobin was out of sight too. they needed to get out of here.

fuck, such a lightweight.

y/n finds themselves skipping a few steps up the stairs, holding onto the rail for dear life. an invisible force pushes them into the nearest room and they fight back the urge to burp, because they definitely knew what would come after that.

they regain their composure (at least momentarily) enough to catch a glimpse of the room. an acoustic guitar is in its stand in the corner. there are some band posters scattered on the walls and it captures the beige/brown theme quite well. a few loose papers lay on the nightstand placed next to the bed, they appear to be music sheets. a niche teddy bear sits comfortably on the mattress and y/n can’t help but test to see how soft it is by sitting on the edge. it is quite soft.

this is beomgyu’s room, genius.

y/n notices his closet near the farthest right and their curiosity gets the better of them. this wouldn’t be trespassing, right? they were already in his room. plus, this is a drunk person he would be dealing with. harmless.

y/n’s fingers run through each fabric once they’re fully inside, this was one of those walk in closets. a bunch of plaid, pullovers, graphic t-shirts. beomgyu’s style was pretty simple, which defeats what their impression was prior. they assumed he’d be rocking expensive clothing due to his popularity.

a shirt hangs loose and eventually falls off the hanger before y/n’s hands instinctively reach out to catch it from falling. it feels soft and smells like fresh laundry, lavender even. seems like beomgyu knows how to do his loads right. they bring the piece of clothing closer to their face, closing their eyes in the process.

there’s no way y/n is about to sniff his clothes. they need to sober up now.

“you wanna keep it?”

y/n freezes in their place and throws the shirt back, as if that made it any less obvious. they face back with red, widened eyes. their hand covers their mouth in a fist, partially to avoid saying anything stupid, but also in fear that if they open their mouth anything but words will come oozing out.

choi beomgyu was right here, in front of their own eyes, and they were anything but sober. how can they get out of this?

“it’s okay, you wouldn’t be the first,” beomgyu says with a sly smile. he enters the closet, leaving the door open surprisingly.

not a total douche.

“what’s your name?” he asks leaning against the doorframe of the closet. damn that’s really attractive.

“y/n,” they respond, but it comes out as a mix of a burp and cough. they didn’t think that could be humanly possible.

beomgyu chuckles hearing this as he rubs his chin with his right hand. his eyes squint in amusement, but also slight lust.

maybe slightly a douche.

“mmm, i think i’ve seen you in theatre before,” beomgyu recalls but it doesn’t sound too convincing. “you enjoying the party?”

“yeah i’m just-“

“tipsy much?” beomgyu finishes with a chuckle and raised eyebrows.

y/n remains still in defeat. they stutter incomprehensible words before taking a small breath. “i’m just um- i was looking for a friend.”

“well, you’re in good hands,” beomgyu assures taking a few steps closer to y/n. their heart races a bit faster seeing this.

“you didn’t answer my question though.”

“oh!” y/n clears their throat in embarrassment as they look to both sides. “y-yeah it’s cool. i needed a distraction.”

beomgyu hums as a simple smile takes over, taking more steps in the process. they’re inches away at this point, and though they’re insanely out of it, y/n knows what comes next. they should back away, sprint for it, but they don’t. they’re stuck, but they’re also intrigued. they’ve never kissed anyone before.

and this is the choi beomgyu.

“hmm, i know the perfect distraction then,” he says as he rests his free hand on y/n’s cheek, pulling them closer to him.

y/n stares back with the biggest doe eyes, to which beomgyu finds adorable. he glances down to their lips which doesn’t help with y/n’s nerves.

“you’re so cute,” beomgyu compliments when he sees how close they are to kissing him.

“so are you!” y/n blurts out. they’re definitely feeling the drunk effects again.

y/n barely has time to register what’s going on because pretty soon their lips crash on each other’s. the sudden touch throws y/n out of orbit and it’s like they’re in a void. they can’t even process how beomgyu’s lips feel or the fact that this is literally their first kiss. they don’t know what to do with their hands, so they’re just up in the air to their sides. do they reek of alcohol? is it turning beomgyu off?

their dad would’ve known what to do, he knows how men think. now that’s all y/n could think of and it burdens them even more.

pain, just pain. everything was painful. everything hurt. it all hurts-

“ouch!”

the sudden yelp brings y/n to the present at the sight of beomgyu stepping back, holding his lips with his fingers.

hold on, was he bleeding? did they seriously just make him bleed? y/n was worse than they thought.

“jesus, you have some strong teeth,” beomgyu comments while he wipes away the blood rushing out of the newly formed cut on his lip.

“i’m- i’m sorry,” y/n rushes to say, unsure if they should reach out to console him.

this turn of events and worry begins to feel overstimulating for y/n, and black dots appear everywhere in their vision. the room starts to feel dizzy, they can’t keep balance anymore. y/n’s stomach starts to feel queasy. all that alcohol was certainly catching up to them. their fist reappears to cover their mouth to prevent them from speaking any more word vomit.

only…..it’s just vomit.

y/n gathers their senses and rushes over to the bathroom in beomgyu’s room, kneels down over the toilet and watches all hell break loose. their food, alcohol, and emotions have no trouble escaping from the back of their throat.

they don’t know how much time has passed, but the massive headache that just formed after this barf fest is seriously no joke. all y/n can think about is what just happened, and how much of a pain in the ass this is going to be the next day. they can’t afford that.

y/n remains in their position and soon feels a pair of hands comfort their shoulders. at first, they thought it was beomgyu, but they can feel how huge they are. finally, soobin is here.

“jeez, i’ve been looking for you everywhere,” soobin admits in harmless annoyance. “no more drinking for you, what were you doing in beomgyu’s room-“

and with those words, y/n’s throat gurgles once again and the cycle repeats. soobin winces due to the no warning, but just pats their back in support.

y/n couldn’t tell him, y/n couldn’t tell anyone.

they sure as hell was gonna face beomgyu the next day to preface this to him.

…

“manage to sober up?” beomgyu teasingly questions as y/n shoves him to the nearest classroom. the two are alone.

“seriously, are you good?” y/n asks with frustration. one look at twitter this morning and apparently beomgyu was in the ER.

surely that wasn’t their doing, right?

“relax, i’m fine,” beomgyu scoffs. “i was there for my brother, he’s fine too. you didn’t leave an effect on me that much.”

y/n rolls their eyes back, which certainly didn’t help the hangover they were experiencing.

“beomgyu, i’m being serious,” y/n repeats with caution and a sternness to their tone. “you can’t tell anyone about what happened last night.”

“but why….” beomgyu retaliates in a cute tone while sticking out his bottom lip in a sad face. he points to the swollen cut. “i’m sure everyone would love to hear about-“

“beomgyu, i’m being so fucking serious with you just please!”

y/n releases their frustration that they’ve been storing since talking to this guy for the past ten minutes. it’s been so unsuccessful that they had to drag him in here to be alone.

tears begin to well up in y/n’s eyes and they don’t even bother wiping them away to stop. they hate how emotional they can be when they get upset.

“i’ve- i’ve been dealing with a lot and i don’t need everyone in this school to find out i’m a lightweight who can’t even kiss right,” y/n admits with honesty, their words coming out a bit shaky. “you can tease me all you want in private, but please. i can’t have my high school experience ruined because of this.”

beomgyu lets y/n finish and his expression softens with every word. he wasn’t expecting them to cry, frankly, he’s never made anyone cry (not that he knows of at least). he was annoying, but did he seriously want to be a prick?

“just….please,” y/n begs with a sob one last time.

beomgyu watches them as y/n gazes down to the floor, embarrassed enough to avoid making eye contact. it would be a lie to say he didn’t feel bad.

“okay, fine,” he concludes in agreement, his voice is low. “it’ll be just between you and me.”

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

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