#the slow burn has finally revealed some smoke ;3 And where there is smoke there are surely flames ;333?

[redrobinfection]

“Mi cama es su cama”

JayTim Week 2018 | Day 5 - “Bed Sharing” (Day 6), Pt 5 of 6

AN: Okay, so, March is definitely one of the worst times of year for me, surpassed only by April, so, originally, I hadn’t planned on participating in this JayTim Week. But I couldn’t stay away from the “bed sharing” prompt, and thus this massive oneshot was born. Since I don’t like posting long works to tumblr, and the fic naturally split into six, roughly-even parts, I’ve decided to release one part each day up until day six, at which point I’ll also share a link to the entire work on Ao3. I particularly enjoyed writing this spur-of-the-moment monster, so I hope you enjoy reading just as much!

Tags: enemies to friends to lovers, pre-N52, slow burn, blood and injury, tw: blood

<< Part 4

---

Tim blew out a breath and sagged down onto the bed, running both hands through his hair. At this point it was a waiting game, nothing to do but wait until the man tucked into his bed woke up again. He carefully smoothed out the blankets he had draped over Jason's still form, mindful to keep his touch light so as not to aggravate the wounds stitched and bandaged underneath, and mused over the events of the past two hours.

The ordeal had begun with a bewildering alert from one of the safehouses at which he and Jay would often meet up to discuss cases or catch a nap if one or both of them were running on fumes. The napping part of it had started out as a joke between them after the time Tim had crashed at Jason's place right after the invasion had ended. Since then, every other week or so, one of them would show up at whichever safehouse the other was currently occupying just to beg a nap, hang out, and eat the other's food. These days, they were hanging out together at least twice a week, and Tim was actually starting to depend on those extra naps to keep him going throughout the week.

So when he had gotten the alert, he had wondered if maybe Jay had thought that he was there for some reason and just hadn't thought to disable and reset the security? It was that or someone had legitimately broken into the place; all of the Bats knew to either call him or disable the security themselves upon entering, so it wouldn't have been one of them. He had been particularly bewildered after he had pulled the security feed and saw that it was indeed Jason who had entered. Uncertain and a little concerned, Tim had peeled off from his patrol route and circled back to check, just in case.

Maybe Jason had info for him but had lost his comm? Or maybe he'd been hit with fear toxin or something similarly nasty and just homed in on the closest place to crash, just as Tim had months ago when he'd been hit by Freeze? Or maybe he had just really needed a nap?

Those possibilities had circled like impatient vultures in his head as he had cautiously entered the safehouse through the false wall Jason had carelessly left ajar. Upon seeing nothing immediately out of place, he had turned off the silent alarms and reset the system. He had then walked from room to room, seeking Jason out, until he had found him in the only bedroom.

At first glance it had appeared that Jason had snuck in for a quick nap, stretched out on his stomach across the bed, hood nowhere to be seen, head buried in a pillow. The second thing Tim had noticed was that Jay hadn't bothered to remove his boots before flopping across the bed. It was at the point that Tim had opened his mouth rouse his guest and gleefully rib him for his oversight that he had noticed the third thing, the spreading pool of blood just seeping out from under Jason.

Tim had instantly cried out and jumped forward, gingerly rolling the man onto his back. The stain hadn't spread too far, but thinking back to when he'd first gotten the alert and by looking at the deep color and wet glisten of blood that could no longer be absorbed by the saturated material, Jason had clearly been bleeding profusely for a while.

Heart in his throat, Tim had jumped right into crisis mode, quickly stripping out of his gauntlets, pulling on the nitrile gloves he kept in one of his bandolier compartments, shaking Jason to gauge level of consciousness - completely non-responsive - and feeling for a pulse as he gauged Jason's color and breathing. He had clearly lost a lot of blood, as confirmed by the paleness of his skin, his rapid, shallow breaths, his rapid, thready pulse, and the total loss of consciousness, but at least Tim had made it back while he had still had a pulse.

Tim had wasted no time in running into the gear room for his vigilante first aid kit, IV fluids and oxygen. He then quickly identified two gunshot wounds to the torso, in the lower right quadrant, and one superficial wound to the left shoulder. He had staunched the bleeding temporarily with sterile gauze and pressure bandages, then set Jay up on fluids and oxygen while he had made some calls out to Oracle and the Bats to call in some favors.

He had then cleaned and stitched the wounds in record time - Jay had been lucky the bullets hadn't gone deep enough to rupture viscera or nick any major arteries, otherwise he would have been taking a trip to his least favorite cave in the world, if he had survived long enough for Tim to call in the cavalry - and then he had gingerly shifted Jason over on the bed so he could strip the blankets and sheets from under him. The blood had soaked all the way through, as he'd thought - the mattress was a total loss - but it was the only bed Tim had, so he had done his best to soak up as much liquid as he could, then laid down a layer of towels before stretching clean sheets over the bed.

He had only just then finished tucking Jason back into the bed, setting him up on a unit of blood, cleaning up the bloodied sheets and towels, and putting away the first aid supplies. It had been two hours since he had first gotten the alert from his security app, but it had felt like two of the longest hours of his life.

He hadn't realized until he'd seen the pool of blood and seen Jason's pale, slack face how much he actually cared for the man. It scared him, just how much he cared. It frightened him, just how much it had frightened him to find Jason bleeding out and unresponsive in his bed.

He shifted his attention back to the man lying in his bed in the present moment. He threaded his fingers into Jason's and squeezed, his fingers mimicking the fear he felt squeeze his chest in that moment as he thought back on how close to total disaster they had come tonight. If he had been a few minutes slower or if the bullets had gone a little bit deeper or if they'd hit just a little higher. So many 'what-ifs' and it terrified him that the mere act of considering those possibilities terrified him so much.

He'd felt fear for the safety of those he'd worked with before - for Bruce, for Dick, for Steph, for Bart, Kon, Cassie and the Titans, even for Damian, once - but he'd never felt fear like this before. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Now that he was waiting for Jason to wake up, he wasn't sure whether he was more nervous about what would happen when Jason woke up again - what he would say, what Jay might say, what would happen next - or at the possibility that Jason might never wake up again.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft sound from the bed. The significance of that sound pulled a relieved smile from him in spite of the churning feeling he felt in his stomach as he watched Jason begin to stir. He subtly shifted his grip around Jason's hand, lightly feeling for a pulse and feeling a greater measure of relief from the strong, steady beat he felt gradually quicken under his fingertips. After a minute or so, Jason's eyes blinked open once, twice, then stayed open, at which point his face immediately twisted in pain.

"Wha' happ'n?" Jason groaned.

"I was hoping you could tell me that," Tim responded smoothly. It took Jason a few tries to focus his gaze on him.

"I was… trackin' down a weap'ns deal an'… turned bad… got caught in th' crossfire as I tried t' break it up… an' then… I dunno," Jason recalled woozily, frowning slightly. He pulled his hand from Tim's and pressed it lightly to the wounds on his abdomen, hissing slightly.

"And then you somehow made it out here, broke into my apartment, took a little nap in my bed, and bled all over my sheets. Not to mention you forgot to take your boots off first," Tim finished, keeping his tone light and teasing.

Jason huffed a laugh, then grimaced and pressed his hand harder against the wounds. "Shit, man… don' make me laugh. Hurts." Tim rose smoothly and retrieved two syringes from the dresser and rounded the other side of the bed to fiddle with the IVs. "Sorry about the sheets, though. And the boots, of course," Jason finished, shooting him a wink that was nearly indistinguishable from a wince.

"Don't worry about it," Tim assured him, patting the hand just below the IV sites patronizingly, "I mean, you forgave me that one time with Freeze, so I'm sure I can give you this one."

"H-how generous of you," Jason choked out, clearly trying his best not to laugh.

"I've got some painkillers and antibiotics here for you, if you want them. No allergies, right?" Tim asked, waving the syringes. Jason nodded vigorously to each, so Tim carefully uncapped and injected them into the port he'd placed with one IV catheter for this express purpose. "I would have given you the painkiller sooner, but I wanted to make sure you'd wake up first."

The tension visibly drained from Jason's face and body within seconds of the painkiller going in. He let out a pleased sigh as he relaxed back onto the pillows Tim had propped him up upon. "No problem, man. I'm just really grateful you got me the good stuff. Oh, yeahhhh… that's the stuffffffffff." He practically melted into the pillows, a happy little puddle of high-as-a-kite Jason.

Tim snorted. "Yeah, I had to call in a few favors to get my hands on it, so you're welcome." He capped the empty syringes and set them aside. "Had to call in one for the blood too. You're lucky I had the rest of this stuff on hand here or we would have been shit out of luck and you would have had to take a ride in your least favorite automobile in the city."

"Hey, nah, I love the Batmobile - awesome wheels on the thing - I just can't stand the jerk who drives it," Jason explained drowsily, eyes slipping closed in spite of himself. "But thanks for not calling in big B or Dickie and the Demon Brat."

"Well, it was Damian who brought us the morphine and blood, so…"

Jason's eyes snapped open and he stared. "Wait, Damian did you a favor? Wait. He owed you a favor? How even…? What did you do for the demon for him to owe you a favor?"

Tim laughed, slowly rounded the bed, and sat down beside Jason once more. "Yeah, he owed me a favor, and part of the favor I did him involved not telling anyone why he owed me that favor, so, you know, I really like not getting stabbed and thrown from high places, and rather dislike having my grapple lines cut, so I'm gonna keep that one to myself."

"That's fair. But jeez…" Jason whistled. "To use a favor from the Demon Brat on me. Wow. I'm honored."

Tim grinned. "No problem, man." He was just about to stand and go in search of extra blankets when Jason's hand unexpectedly shifted from his wounds down to where Tim's hand rested on the bed, his chilled fingers wrapping around Tim's slightly sweaty ones with a firm grip.

"But really, Tim, thank you," Jason murmured seriously. "Thanks for catching the alarms I must have set off coming in here and a special thank you for not taking your time coming back and checking on them - coming back and checking on me. Thanks for patching me up." He paused, then smiled and squeezed Tim's hand, instantly rekindling the heavy churning feeling in his stomach that had fallen to the wayside during their easy banter. "Thanks for sharing your beds, particularly this one, tonight, with me. Means a lot to me."

Tim nodded and swallowed. "Y-yeah, no problem." He shot up from the bed, yanking his hand from Jason's abruptly. He fluttered for a moment before rambling out some words that might have conveyed a desire to find more blankets and get Jay some water, but probably came out too quickly to be understood, and then he fled the room. He took his time pulling the spare blankets from the main closet and filling a lidded cup - complete with straw - with water before he made his way back to the bedroom. He steeled himself outside the door, running what he planned to say over and over in his head.

"Here are more blankets and some water," he began as he walked in. Jason accepted the water silently, taking a few small sips before setting it aside. Tim draped several of the blankets over him carefully, then stood back from the bed. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Jay, I-"

"So where're you gonna sleep, Timbo? You got a couch in this place?"

"I uhhh… hadn't thought about it actually," he admitted. "No, I don't. I'll probably just make myself a pallet on the floor, to be honest. Plenty of blankets left."

Jason shook his head. "No, don't sleep on the floor, man. There's plenty of room on the bed."

Tim immediately began to protest, but Jason raised his voice to over him. "I'm serious, get yourself outta that suit and climb in. I can use all the extra warmth I can get right now; blood loss fucking sucks."

Tim wavered. "I don't want to accidentally elbow you in the middle of the night, or worse, kick you or something."

Jason scoffed, then fiddled with his nasal cannula with a grimace. "Like that ever happens. You're not a kicker, anyway. If anything you might snuggle me until my stitches pop, but believe me, I'll wake you up loooong before it gets to that, so stop stalling and get in. After all," Jason explained with a loopy grin, "we're not really sharing a bed if you're not in here too."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn't argue it further. He had wanted to keep a close eye on Jay tonight, anyway. He quickly shucked off the remaining pieces of his suit and carefully climbed into the right side of the bed - ideally he would have liked to have avoided Jason's sore side, but with the IVs on the other side he didn't really have a choice - purposefully giving the injured man wide clearance. Jason huffed and dragged him closer, pulling him nearly flush against his side.

Eventually they settled in together, the sound of Jason's breaths growing slower and softer while the drip-drip of the IVs filled the silences in between. Before Jason could drop off completely and before Tim lost his nerve entirely, he sucked in another long breath and went for it.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"You really scared me tonight."

A long pause. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I… I don't know… I can't…" Tim struggled and he felt Jason shift beside him in confusion. "I'm not sure what I'd do if you had…"

"Died. Again," Jason finished, his words reminiscent of the many jokes he often made about his death. There was no humor in his voice this time, only understanding.

"Yeah. I'd… It scares me, Jason. It scares me how much it scares me. I'd really hate it if something happened to you."

"I'd really hate it if something happened to you, too," Jason admitted softly.

Tim let the silence stretch, weighing his next words carefully on his tongue and in his heart before he whispered them to the ceiling. He wasn't even sure Jason was awake anymore.

"Jay, I think I like you."

The admission floated into the space above and around them and Tim felt an overwhelming sense of peace at having finally gotten the words past his lips, words that he felt were true down to the depths of his soul, a truth that had grown between them for months without him ever realizing it.

Jason wasn't asleep. The response he gave without pause echoed in Tim's head until sleep finally took him and then all the way through the night and on into the morning.

"I like you too, Babybird."

---

Part 6 >>

#jaytimweek #jaytimweek2018 #jaytim #long text post #christmasriverswrites #my writing #tw blood #trigger warning: BLOOD #seriously if graphic depictions of blood bother you do not read this #I did it again; I wrote more compound-tense flashbacks #if I have to write another ''had'' I might scream #(*starts editing* *starts screaming*) #tbf it's really hard to time-jump a story without flashbacks so... #lesson learned: write the story in present tense next time #the slow burn has finally revealed some smoke ;3 And where there is smoke there are surely flames ;333?

[notnctu]

POV | PART TWO

━ ❝ i’d love to see me from your point of view.❞

❀ lee donghyuck x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, fluff! angst, (optional smut is marked with ****) ❀ details - best friends to lovers!au, college!au, ft. best friend mark, slice of life?, inspo by pov by ariana grande ❀ word count - 6.1k ❀ warnings - swearing, dangerous reckless behavior, fingering, penetration, public?sex?, unprotected, slight dirty talk ❀ synopsis - Donghyuck gradually falls in love with you, his best friend, through unprecedented intimate moments that reveal more than what meets the eye and a drunken shared kiss on your birthday makes him realize how hard he’s fallen for you. You’re oblivious to it all, trying to indulge and seek a one true love through bad tinder hookups or men you meet at the club, all to only end in self doubt that Donghyuck has to reconcile. And he always tells you what you need to hear, while also leaving out the part where he so badly wishes you can love yourself the way he loves you.

❀ a/n - make sure you read the first part as it’s a continuation! please please leave me feedback, i would really appreciate it :) this is going to be my last long fic for the time being! thanks for dealing with my spam for the past few weeks after months no of writings <3

READ PART ONE

Donghyuck thought about that kiss every night since it happened, yet knowing you didn’t do the same. How unfortunate it was, when he panicked waking next to you in the morning and wondering if you were to confront him about it. However, there was nothing, no follow up. You didn’t remember it and he couldn’t tell if the sigh that left his mouth that morning was out of relief or despair. 

Regardless, that became his epiphany and the more his love for you grew, the more he wished to be around you for all his days. Donghyuck jumped at every text message, picking up the phone to see if it was you and noting the disappointment in his heart whenever it wasn’t. He found himself smiling whenever your name was brought up, fondly thinking of how you make his heart race. 

The moments that you were together, he swears on every universe that he’s the happiest he’s ever been. There’s something about you that makes him want to believe in love, and it’s not because of your unrealistic desires to find one. As selfish as he came to be, he wanted you all to himself and to be the sole reason behind your smiles.

“No Mark?” Asking as you hop into Donghyuck’s car, the clock on his dash reading the red digital numbers 2:12 A.M. 

“Why can’t we just hang out for once?” He whines, but hopes that it’s playful enough to where you can’t tell that he’s actually serious. Donghyuck hears your melodic chuckle and everything inside him rumbles with glee and satisfaction. 

He steals quick peeks over at you in the passenger seat, greedily taking in your appearance. “That’s not exactly how a throuple works, but I’ll let it pass. Mark never has time for us anyways.” 

There is something so intimate about the late nights; the outside world is dead in its sleep and vulnerable to chaos. The streets are completely empty and it truly feels as if it’s you two against the city. It brings no regulations, easy escapes, staying up all night to feel something the day can’t give you. 

You are the perfect person to spend them with. You’re the very definition of a good feeling, where he’s forgetting all his bad days and soaring through the heavens. The most accurate human form of excitement, the adrenaline and sweetest thrills that run throughout his body. 

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do…” As Donghyuck pulls into a gas station parking lot, the small convenient store is brightly lit with a blinding white sign that reads a popular chain establishment. 

Hyuck blinks at you curiously, head tilt and waiting for you to finish your sentence. Getting out of the car, you stand on your toes and rest your chin on the roof of his car to speak directly to him, “you know that big intersection over on 34th Boulevard?” He catches the mischievous twinkle that shines in your eyes and a grin so fearless fits your face perfectly.

He nods, spinning his car keys on his finger and walking up to the store. But he’s looking back at you with eyes that ask for you to proceed with him, and you’re running towards him with a sudden youthful energy and a jump in your step. 

Your hand latches onto his arm and his gaze drops momentarily to follow it, “I’ve always wanted to just run down the middle of it. To run down a busy traffic area when it’s empty, knowing that this would be the only opportunity to do it without getting run over.” 

“Is that what you’re suggesting we should do next?” Hyuck opens the fridge and grabs his favorite prepackaged ice cream cone. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, your dazzling eyes never leaving his.

He hands you a random popsicle and you take it mindlessly, your train of thought still trying to convince Hyuck to embark on achieving this new thrill of yours. “If you didn’t have anything else planned…”

“Am I some Fairy Godmother? Granting your wishes to come true?” Using sarcasm to hide his undying desire to scream yes! may be the best thing he’s learned to utilize. However, you don’t need to beg any more when a small smile curves at his lips. He’s more than convinced.

“Ah, a happy couple. You two look great together.” The rather talkative cashier compliments while he rings up the icey treats. 

Just before Hyuck can clarify, you’re pulling him closer by the arm and using your fake saccharine smile. “The best boyfriend ever!” His throat freezes, but he’s following your lead closely. Confusion wandering his thoughts, but heart swelling at your usage of the word boyfriend to reference him. 

The friendly stranger laughs wholeheartedly at your giddy act, completely falling for your overplayed nature of a lovey dovey girlfriend. “He always buys me what I want, like this ice cream. He knows it’s my favorite.” You blink innocently up at him, but he finally understands your malicious motive.

Shooting a glare at you, he complies silently and pulls out his card to pay for both of your treats. “Right. Anything my baby wants.” He says the pet name so easily that it shocks him a bit. 

“Hey, you’re a good man.” The clueless cashier smiles even wider and prints the receipt. With a simple gratitude, you both exit the store and you’re laughing the loudest form of mockery.

Jumping into the car, Hyuck is quick to roll his eyes. “He always buys me what I want.” He imitates your previous statement with a silly voice. “I can’t believe you robbed me.” 

The ridiculous scheme actually managed to work, leaving your stomach to hurt from the intense fit of giggles. “My baby? Where did you learn that?” You say between your spurts of laughter.

Heat rises up his neck, slightly embarrassed. “So what? Nicknames are cute.” He admits bashfully, while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. 

Your chuckles die down and you’re leaning over the middle console to get a closer look of his expression. “Really? Didn’t think you were the type. You never used them with your exes.” 

“Around you.” A cringe runs down your spine when you witness Hyuck bite his ice cream, settling back in your seat with a grumble.

“Pet names in private.” Now, his palms grow a bit slick with perspiration. “That’s endearing.” Unwrapping your melting popsicle, you don’t probe him more about the subject. Instead, Hyuck turns up the stereo to drown out any more talk about romantic gestures.

After several rounds of finding street parking, Hyuck finally swerves into a spot situated just before the large six-way intersection. The traffic lights blink in view at the end of the street and in the darkness, there are no cars around. An unfamiliar scene, this place is nothing but a wide open road with five lanes that meet in the middle and lead to six different directions. The white painted lines that divide up the road are as chaotic as it looks during the day filled with traffic.

Nonetheless, you are right. There is no other chance to see it so dead, so empty, so free. 

And you’re already hopping out of the car that Hyuck breaks his daydream and hurries after you. Standing the middle of the road is a dangerous scheme, yet these are the thrill seeking moments that you crave too well. 

Extending your arm out and your palm facing the night sky, you grin enticingly at Hyuck to join you in the middle of the chaotic lines and the adrenaline picks up within him. He, too, matches your smile and lets every form of enthusiasm fuel him. 

“Race you to the end.” Hyuck begins bolting down the long runway, causing you to scoff in disbelief at his sudden challenge. 

The wind that takes flight against his body is crisp on his skin and driving his strands into a wild mess. Turning around, he sees that you’re quick on his tail. However, the one thing that catches his eye… the one thing that makes this moment another one of your most beautiful ones is the utter bliss and peace in your facial expression. 

Eyes are closed and arms are spread out as if you’re letting the wind carry you away. The air slips between the spaces of your fingers and the night is filled with nothing, but your gentle out of breath giggles. 

Donghyuck stops in his tracks right under the colorful traffic lights at your astonishing image. And if you are to open your eyes, you’ll see the marvelous image of your sun waiting for you in the middle of the largest intersection of the city with his mouth slightly agape and marked under a trance.

An exasperated sigh escapes as a puff of smoke and his heart works extra hard to pump oxygen in his veins. In his perspective, the excellent city skyline at the horizon remains your background and you’re running toward him with a breathless joy. Another splitting breathtaking image that will live in his mind for as long as he knows you.

So he throws caution to the wind and though it feels too good to be true, he loves his best friend more than anyone he’s ever come across.

By the end of your rendezvous, you two find a secret rooftop to fully enjoy your silent city. Standing side by side, you both lean with your elbows on the ledge. 

There is something so unspoken and intimate about this very moment, where existing in each other’s presences becomes wholly more comfortable than anything in the world. And this safety allows for vulnerable secrets to spill, for questions that your heart has always been afraid to ask to fall from your lips. 

But you’re not here with just anybody. Donghyuck probably knew what was already on your mind, he just needed you to speak them into existence.

“Hyuck, do you think I’m unlovable?” 

Perhaps, it’s the intimacy that allows for him to talk more confidently about how he views you. Heart over mind, he scoffs in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’re the most lovable person I know! From your happy giggles to your overall easy going aura. We’re not perfect people, but you’re worth every glance and every praise. I wanted to be with you the very moment you made me laugh.” 

Donghyuck passionately rambles on about your attributes and everything you’ve allowed him to experience over the years of your friendship. While he’s always been there for you, you’re always by his side and making sure he’s living a memorable life. He thanks all his sweetest memories to you, that you are the most impactful person of his entire college experience.

“I came to college thinking I’d have my nose in textbooks all day long, but you fell into my life like an opportunity to escape. I love my nights trying to crush Mark on the leaderboards, but I’d give that up any day to run down a major intersection in the middle of the city with you.” 

With a playful soft chuckle, you say something that practically makes his heart stop and regret oversharing. “You know, from how you describe me… it almost sounds like you’re in love with me.”

“Maybe I am.” He bites the inside of his cheek, unsure what suddenly overcame him. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and he’s anticipating your response, trying every way to decipher the quizzical look on your face. Nevertheless, your hesitation causes him to panic and he intercepts before you can respond. “I meant that as your friend.” 

His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, gaze averting away from you. Lies. Lies. More fucking lies. He should’ve waited to see what you would’ve said. 

Nodding knowingly, you lightly place your hand over his. The warmth of your touch soothes his aching and disappointment. Why is he hurting from a simple look? “I know.” He can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that you truly believe he only loves you as a friend or that you saw right through him and are trying to let him save face. 

“Something happened the night of your birthday that I think I should tell you.” Hyuck sighs out all his frustrations. 

He pulls his hand from underneath yours, “you asked me to kiss you as a birthday favor.” There is no confidence to watch your reaction, his eyes remain focused on the dark city. 

Instead of a painstaking rejection, you laugh wholeheartedly and somehow, he feels much lighter. “And did you?”

“How could I say no to you on your birthday?” Peering over, your fingers softly graze your lips and a wandering look is present in your dazed stare.

“It’s not the first time we’ve kissed, Hyuck.” Smiling at him, Hyuck looks cluelessly at you and doesn’t recall another time. He would’ve remembered. 

“Guess who I stole that same request from?” Your eye lashes bat firmly at him and he gulps at your implied question. There was no way.

“Me? When?” This all causes him to rack his brain of lost files, something he must’ve missed.

Sighing, you bid him a kind smile. “Your birthday party a few months ago. Drunk out of your living mind, you pulled me privately into the kitchen and asked if I could kiss you as a birthday gift.” 

Fuck, no wonder why he couldn’t remember. He didn’t remember a single thing from that night. “It was right after my break up.” 

Nodding, you affirm his realization. “You told me that you felt so lonely, and somehow…. someway… I’ve always made you feel seen. Perhaps, you do the same for me and my drunk ass was bold enough to ask for a similar request.” 

But did you kiss him as if you loved him? With the same amount of love that he did the night of your birthday? 

Nonetheless, you shrug off the topic and move on from it all. “We should go, the sun comes up in a few.” 

Hyuck notes this odd detail. You’re not one to end the nights so abruptly, so it almost seemed as if you didn’t want to speak more about it. 

Perhaps, you did kiss him like you meant it but every fear in your body about loving your best friend stops you from admitting it all. 

Because you shouldn’t love your best friend, but something deep down has always wanted to.

How ridiculous he was to believe that you could ever possibly share the same feelings as him. How foolish he felt the moment you burst into his apartment announcing how you’ve finally found the one after another random Tinder date. 

It’s as the night on the rooftop a week ago didn’t even exist or mean anything to you. But that night ate him up alive, to the point where he sought out love counseling from Mark.

“Oh dude, this is serious.” Mark watches Hyuck pace the room, double around the floorplan with his head in his hands with utter frustration and confusion. You’re the only thing that’s been running through his mind the last few days. 

He grunts and rolls his eyes at how Mark’s face had fallen sullen. “I practically confessed everything I loved about her. It’s pretty serious.”

Mark stands and stops Hyuck by the shoulders, looking dead into his eyes. “I’ve liked her before too and would have done some dumb act to get her to like me back. I get it, Hyuck. So, what do you want to do?”

Donghyuck initially scoffs and tears away from his best friend’s intense stare, “of course you liked her too.” His voice fades out at the end of his sentence. “Mark, I like her so much it’s hard to look at anyone else. She’s…”

“Mesmerizing?” Mark finishes his sentence with a small proud grin on his lips. 

Hyuck couldn’t hold the ridiculous laugh that escapes at how smug Mark looks, but then a silence falls over him. He realizes how perfect that word is to describe you. You are every dazzling trance he’d fawn under. 

“It’s wrong, Mark. She’s our best friend, I can’t ruin us.” Hyuck slumps his shoulders forward and a pout extends. His eyes are wandering the ugly carpet but he’s thinking about every moment you’ve smiled. 

“How did this happen in the first place? I thought you never would’ve liked her…” Mark’s question has Hyuck raking his brain to find his epiphany. “It’s not about your ex, is it? y/n is way too good to be a rebound.” 

“No. This has nothing to do with my old relationships, I genuinely like her… so much.” Hyuck understands the implications in Mark’s sudden abrasive questions. Even it’s difficult for himself to say how it all started and so this has Donghyuck reflecting back on his entire friendship with you.

If only he had noticed your lively smiles sooner, a little earlier, it would have saved him all this time searching for someone who would last. You’ve lasted through every college relationship he’s had and that speaks louder than any confession. 

“I never liked her because I never thought I had a chance. Have you seen her? Our best friend who has 400 matches on Tinder.” Though he blames himself for realizing a little late that he loved you, it was always hard to compete with everyone else. 

“So, what changed then?” 

Hyuck leans against the door to Mark’s room and crosses his arms to contemplate. “Not that I have a chance now, but I can’t hold these feelings back anymore. I want to kiss her until we’re out of breath, to love without any conditions, to be the reason behind her every beautiful moment.” 

Mark raises a confused eyebrow, “but you are.”

“The only reason.” Hyuck speaks his truest desires and Mark coughs aggressively before composing himself. Right, he didn’t stutter one bit. 

So, Hyuck had planned to confess, all until you gave him the very reason he couldn’t. When you showed up unannounced with one of those wide grins that has your eyes shimmering with hope, he just knew something was wrong. All his love and future aspirations were replaced with sheer disappointment and envy.

“I’m falling hard for him.” You begin and your hands are clasped together so innocently. “He brought me to this overlook on a cliff and we just talked for ages. It felt so right and then, he asked to see me again!” Your eyes are completely wondrous and distracted, like the one thought in your mind blocked out everything else. Jumping happily, you’re squealing with excitement thinking about this new person in your life and there is no consideration of Hyuck’s silence.

“That’s… great.” He barely stutters to fill the air and to replace the sound of his heart breaking. He lost you before even getting the chance to even have you. 

“I know right!” You yell joyfully and though your smile is the biggest it's ever been, Hyuck refuses to see this moment as beautiful. He’s no longer looking at you objectively, his bias tainting it all and he sees it in an ugly light. As your best friend, he should be happy for you and rooting for you. He’s known more than anyone else that you have been waiting for someone like this your whole college experience.

However, he can’t feel a single good emotion as you ramble on about your alleged one true love.

“Did you need something?” He cuts you off, growing a bit irritated by your endless praise about a man who never wishes to meet.

Clearing your throat, you take Hyuck’s hand in both of your palms. With begging eyes, you say, “my sister is getting married this weekend and they invited you. 

His hold escapes yours as he walks toward his bedroom, “shouldn’t you invite your new man to your family events now.” It’s difficult for him to hide the bitterness in his voice, but you run up to him and grip his arm. 

“But they think I’m dating you, remember? Plus, my mom referred to you by name. She really likes you.” You snicker, clearly not understanding why Donghyuck seems to be rather distant at the moment.

His ears perk up at the compliment and though it’s a selfish thought, he feels content knowing that he was able to win over your family. So, his heart burns at how your hand slowly travels down to intertwine with his own and how your chin rests on his shoulder lightly. His head turns and he is met a few inches away from your tender lips. For a brief moment, he’s staring at them longer than he should. 

“Come on, Hyuck. Be mine for one more time.” Your whisper is gentle and soft, your breath tickling against his cheek. Despite everything, he loves how you make him feel. It’s always a mixture of happiness and safety. There are no fears with you because you’re absolutely fearless. He can’t imagine how he would’ve opened up without you around, that he puts every form of trust into you. 

So, every little thing that you do. every single passing look. every touch and every spoken word. He falls harder for you every time you simply see him, every time you bat your eyelashes at him. And this love that festers inside of him feels easy and genuine. Perhaps, you’ve been his one true love all along. He’s never felt remarkably seen, where every part is exposed and right at your fingertips. 

And you… have been so patiently waiting for just anyone to steal your heart. How can he let just anyone love you? 

“I’m yours for however long you want me to be.” He lightly ruffles the top of your hair before slightly shrugging you off, afraid that your hold will eventually have him saying other sweet implications. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.” He smirks at your small chuckle, the roll in your eyes.

“At least pretend.” But he really doesn’t have to. He enjoys every moment being yours. 

When the day finally arrived, the grand wedding may have been another day that Hyuck will never forget how beautiful you looked. Prancing out in your bridesmaid dress, you run towards him through the large field of fake grass. He catches you when you jump into his arms, practically failing all over and tripping over the ends of your chiffon dress. He hits the ground, cushioning your fall. 

“Hey..” you grin down at him breathless, hand resting perfectly on his chest as it was the night of your 21st again.

Hyuck gulps and sends you a glare, “I should have dropped you.” 

“That would have been very chivalrous of you.” Sarcasm bites back at him as you push up and off of him. He’s quick on his feet and brushing off any dust from the bottom of your expensive dress, avoiding the long open slit that runs down to expose one leg.

“Donghyuck, you’re looking ravishing.” Your mother steps out, tall and prideful, but with the most delightful expression as she opens her arms to invite him into a hug. 

He leans into it, while cautiously making suspicious eye contact with you. You shrug back, also confused at why your mother has a sudden change in demeanor. “It’s been so long since the holidays.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He bids your mother a respectful smile when she pulls away, to which she absolutely fawns at and you’re tugging at his sleeve to drag him away.

“The pleasure is all mine. You make y/n a better person.” And there is no context that Hyuck understands this single phrase before he’s walking away from your force. Your mother waves a small sweet goodbye as she watches you two leave behind a cobblestone wall behind the large reception building.

It’s covered in long vines that grow up the old stones, a beautiful background for an outdoor wedding. “Rude.” He whispers when you finally stop pulling him away.

“She was starting to say odd things.” You laugh, quite nervously actually. Nonetheless, you shake out of your nerves and a beaming expression replaces your troubles. “So, guess what? I’m meeting my man afterwards.” Yet again, the curve of your lips at the thought of another rumbles his own yearning heart.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looks down while kicking at the loose pebbles on the ground. “Good for you.” grumbles Donghyuck mindlessly.

You don’t notice his low spirits again, you’re talking away about this man as if he’s all you’re consumed with nowadays. On and on, the same speech about how you’re practically ready to give it your all and how he fits someone unimaginable. Eventually, Donghyuck becomes fed up by how your eyes blink up to the sun with another reflection in them. “It’s like you forget who you are when you’re with someone new.” 

And you’re in mid-ramble when you hear his harsh comment that picks aggressively at your skin. It stings, “what?” You cross your arms defensively and raise an eyebrow at him. The tone in your voice is jarringly upset and he opened a can of worms that he isn’t ready for.

Donghyuck swears underneath his breath, looking away at the tall trees behind the small parking lot. “Forget it.” He mumbles, rather frustrated at himself for ticking you off.

“What are you implying?” 

“There is someone that actually makes you a better person rather than someone completely different.” He scoffs, his emotions fueling the worst of him. The words flow from his mouth full of anger and spitefulness. 

Your eyes narrow at him, crossing your arms defensively. “Like you can give me the love you think I deserve? This whole fake boyfriend gimmick has gone too much to your head.”

And his heart is bursting at the seams and all he can see is your angry expression, so he says something he never hopes to regret. Every impulse beats his rationality and in the heat of the moment, Donghyuck confesses, “if only you can see yourself from my point of view and all the emotions I feel when I look at you.” 

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re slightly shocked at his bold statement. You blink cluelessly at him, speechless and deciphering how to respond. The anger fades from the both of you, knowing that the connection you two possess is mutual. Somewhere deep down within you, a light switches on and you’re basking in your sun’s radiance in this moment. 

“Tell me about it.” Your curiosity brings much confusion, but he doesn’t wait a second of hesitation. 

“Happiness, you light up my nights in dark cars with your smile. Trust, there is no one else I’d run down a dangerous intersection with. Courage, being bold enough to dance in a crowded room like no one was watching. Love, when kissing you felt incomparable to anything else in the world. Vulnerability, looking at you and knowing everything about you.” 

Donghyuck takes a cautious step forward toward you. A whirl of thoughts and emotions overwhelmingly flood your heavy mind, but fear no longer holds you back from the one person you’ve always wished to love, harder than any person you’ve ever encountered. “Donghyuck.” 

He freezes at the call of his name, waiting patiently for your next words. “I want to love me the way that you love me... because nobody loves me like you do… even myself. So, I’d love to see me from your point of view.” 

Donghyuck releases the sigh that suffocates him and every firework lights up in his chest. His eyes wander across your canvas and absorb everything wondrous about your features. Even though you’re not entirely smiling, you’re puckering your lips cutely out of embarrassment. And he reassesses how pretty you simply look in your expensive formal chiffon dress and the bold color on your lips that has made you feel good before. 

He thinks aloud, the words leaving his mouth before they can be stopped. “This is your most beautiful moment.” 

When you’re looking up at him to meet his dreamy gaze, a new enthusiasm washes over your entire body. Looking rather inexplicably attractive in his suit, Hyuck stares at you as if you’re all he can see. So, you pull him into the only source of gratitude you can give. A kiss that gives every emotion back to him, one that resembles closely to the one he gave you on your birthday and the one you gave him for his. 

An emotional kiss that tells him more than he can see. He feels it on the tip of your tongue and every ounce of love that rushes over the both of you.

***********

Donghyuck’s wandering hands travel down your waist, over your hips, all until it reaches in between the slit of your dress. His hand instinctively grips at your naked thigh, the feeling of your raw skin driving him wild with impure thoughts. Your hands are quick on his tie, loosening it from around his collar and unbuttoning the first few as you’ve done once before.

“Can,-- Is it okay if--?” Hungry eyes search his face for confirmation, but you’re so lust driven that you’re a stuttering mess. “Do you want this?” 

“Yes.” Says Hyuck without any hesitation. Taking his hand, you’re quick to lead him inside to a more secluded part of the venue. The lavish private bathrooms are brightly lit and he lifts you on top of the marble counters.

“The reception starts in 20 minutes.” You moan as Hyuck kisses down your neck hastily, a hand up the slit of your dress to push your panties aside.

“We’ll make it quick then. I’ll show you love another day.” His knuckle lightly grazes against your erect clit and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Whimpers fall from your lips as your hips mindlessly grind into his hand. “Never took you the type to be so loud.” Hyuck raises an eyebrow and tilts his head mockingly at you.

“This isn’t even close to how loud I can get.” Your statement causes him to swallow hard. Being your best friend, he has kept a rather clear mind from any sexual attraction toward you. He had to know he loved you in order to even see you in that way. 

Gathering your slick, he rubs your clit with two fingers before dipping them into your hole. You lean back into the mirror and prop your feet on the counter to spread open for Hyuck to see. “You let all these idiots fuck your pretty pussy? They don’t deserve you, as a person or a potential partner.” He fingers you deeper and with flicking motions, he hits your sweet spot and causes you to jolt.

“Please, just fuck me. I’ve always wondered how good you’d feel.” His eyes twinkle at your bashful confession, but understands your lustful desires even for your own best friend.

“You think about fucking me?” He asks abruptly, taking his fingers out to suck your juices clean from them. A coined flattered smirk appears on his lips as he unbuckles his belt.

You’re averting eye contact, “well no, maybe just once. I get horny when I’m drunk sometimes.” You admit and he’s rushing to take himself out of his restrictive dress pants. His dick hits the air and he adjusts closer to your dripping core.

And he enters, slowly and slowly inching in so you can adhere to his size. You bite back every yell of pleasure and grip the ends of his dress shirt. Hyuck fills you up deliciously, and you two are connected through bodies beyond any way before. He leans in to give you a sloppy, yet passionate kiss before dragging out his hips and pushing them back in.

There is no guilt, no pain, no sorrows. Knowing Hyuck, he fucks you in the same way he wishes to love you. His hips drive into you passionately and quickly. The time crunch being something that causes him great distraction, but his heart is swelling simply feeling your warmth wrap around him so well.

“My baby is so tight.” Pet names in private. A small grin appears on your face at the sound of the sweet nickname and you pull him closer by tugging his shirt.

“Harder, Hyuck. Don’t hold back anymore.” Moan after moan, Hyuck relentlessly drills into you. His arm is hooked underneath your left thigh to keep it up, and your head keeps banging against the mirror.

Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs circles on your aching clit. The mixture of both pleasures stimulate you until the build up tension in your stomach begins to reach its peak.

“Cum, I know you fucking want to.” He grunts, keeping the same rhythm that pushes you over your edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as your legs shake sporadically from your release. You’re smart to cover your mouth, knowing that the bathroom will only echo your erotic sounds. Your chest rises and falls from the momentum and adrenaline that Hyuck helped you reach, breathlessly trying to calm your heart rate down.

After a few more harsh bumps, he pulls out and motions you forward. Jumping off of the counter, you kneel on the ground and suck his tip lightly. Your swirls are enough for him to empty into your mouth, his hot streams of salty liquid hitting the back of your throat. He looks down at you and your wide eyed expression with his cock in your mouth drives him overboard. 

And you swallow, getting up to lightly plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A lip stain being worn proudly for just a moment. 

“You amaze me.” Hyuck whispers, holding you against his flushed body and fast paced heart beat. 

“Hurry out you two!” A voice startles the both of you with a knock on the door and you two are quick to readjust yourselves. He hopes to love you a little longer next time, without any interruptions.

***********

After the glorious and excruciating long wedding, you’re walking Hyuck to his car in the small parking lot. During the rest of the night, he held your hand the whole way through and the love that he looked at you with was more than real. 

He talked with your distant relatives as if he’s always known them. Hyuck conducted the dinner table, always knowing what to say. There was no doubt in your head that seeing Donghyuck in the aftermath, he was always going to be someone who was going to make things better. 

The love you long searched for, the love that you had been too afraid to touch, intertwined itself so lovingly underneath the white table cloth. Donghyuck is the one and it took needing to see him a bit more to realize. A little more acceptance from the both of you had to be the final straw.

Donghyuck sheepishly scratches the back of his neck when you reach his car, unsure where the path of your friendship will diverge to next. “Have fun on your date then…” His voice trails off, kicking the rocks at his feet again.

There goes your melodic laughter that soothe his aching heart and the familiar gentle grip on his fingertips. You lift his chin up, the both of you seeing each other clearly now.

From his perspective, you’re absolutely dazzling in the low light and butterflies swirl in the pit of his stomach. He can look at you forever, until months turn into years. He can love you until you two grow old. You’re his fearless, beautiful, inexplicably marvelous best friend. And he patiently waits for the day you’ll let him finally be yours.

From your perspective, Donghyuck shines even when the night overtakes the sky and possibly, the warmth in your heart bubbles across your chest. You can stay with him forever, until months turn into years. You can trust him like it’s you two against the world. He is your silly, charming, timidly benevolent best friend. And you’re slowly falling and hoping for the day you get to be his. 

“I’m not going to see him anymore. He’s not the one.” Hyuck blinks at you, full of confusion and shock.

“But you sounded so happy.” His voice gets lost in the stillness of the intimate atmosphere. 

“No, Hyuck. You make me happy and I’ll say it again for you to hear me. Nobody loves me like you do.” Reaching up, your hand caresses his cheek and he falls into your palm lovingly. His heart runs a mile, reaching the greatest high he’s ever going to feel. He hopes his eyes don’t deceive him, but the utter perfection on your face makes him feel whole.

You wish that Hyuck can teach you to love yourself the way that he loves you. 

“Take me home?” 

“How could I ever say no?”

thank you for being patient with me! its finally done and i will be going on a writing hiatus for a bit. housemating and ridin club will come out sometime soon, but i really need to step away from writing for a bit. please understand, thank you for reading :) 

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct scenario #lee haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan smut #nct smut #nct imagines #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct imagine

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: The Day Off (a post-series part 7)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: E for so Explicit lmao

Summary: Remember when Javi wondered if you heard him masturbate through the wall? 👀

Tags: SMUT; f masturbation; voyeurism?; fingering; oral (f receiving); dom-ish!Javi but he’s soft at the end

Word Count: 3,309

A/N: I’m so sorry that this is not part 6, but uh have some alternative smut? <3

Also known as the masturbation scene I’ve been talking about, this scene takes place post-series because I just can’t get these two out of my head.

Masterlist

--

It’s a cloudy day in the city and the air is thick, crackling with energy, a slow-building storm borne in on a mischievous breeze. Despite this, you have the windows thrown open to hear the distant rumbles of thunder. The twisting air makes you restless, and you glance at your bed, wishing Javi were here.

You have the day off, but as it’s a weekday, you’re not expecting to see him until well after business hours. A giddy bubble still swells in your chest at the idea that you can indeed now expect to see him, rather than just hope to run into him in the hall. 

You and Javier have been “together” for several months now. He is infuriating and fascinating and above all, careful- so while you’re both prone to wandering over to each other’s apartments when you’re bored, you’re also perfectly content to take things as slowly as he prefers. 

Your gaze wanders over to the bed again. Biting your lip, you think of how Javi often uses ‘slow’ to mean ‘thorough’. When he has the energy, that man can work on you for hours, taking you apart piece by methodological piece. Nothing escapes his attention- not the slightest tremor of interest in something he hasn’t done to you yet.

Your breathing deepens as you stand there in your bedroom, thoughts steadily spiraling around Javier. You didn’t have any serious plans for the day, you’d just been puttering about doing some cleaning- 

You give in.

You set aside what you’d been doing and go to wash your hands. When you return, you strip off your pants and flounce into bed. Warm air wraps around you from the open window. A closer roll of thunder makes you look to the sky, and you feel an electric, taboo shiver wash over you at the idea that you’re about to masturbate in broad daylight, with the window wide open.

But you grin as you nestle into your comforter. And why shouldn’t you? Better to do it now, while everyone nearby is out at work, than force yourself to be quiet at night.

Not that Javier is very helpful in that regard, you reflect wryly. Plus, you’d hardly had need to touch yourself since you’d started sleeping together. But sometimes a little you-time is nice, even if you have a regular partner, so you run your hands up your thighs and belly, intending to take your time…

--

Unbeknownst to you, Javier isn’t at work either. He’s at home, in fact- rifling through his closet, bedroom window flung open at this rare opportunity to air the place out. Rainy days make him edgy, but with things on standby at the office, they’d sent him home.

He’s just considering taking a smoke break when he hears it: muted and soft, but unmistakably a moan. His head whips toward the wall.

He remains frozen in place, ears straining, until the next thing he hears. “Fuck, Javier.” Slightly louder, and his head turns to the window.

Are you…home right now? Thinking of him while you-? Weather forgotten, Javi silently scrambles closer to the window, heart pounding as hard as if he were out on a bust. Now that he’s listening, he hears more: the faint but utterly recognizable creak of your bed frame, the rustle of sheets. The vocal sighs you make that usually tell him he’s successfully seduced you.

Before Javier evens registers what he’s doing he’s crept into the hall and is retrieving your spare key from where you’d mentioned you keep it. He moves as quietly as he can- which, given his DEA training (and the fact that putting on shoes hadn’t even crossed his mind), is damn near silent. Especially to anyone not anticipating visitors.

The way to your bedroom is one he’s traveled countless times now. Drawn by the alluring sounds you’re making, he has to remind himself that you don’t know he’s coming, that he can’t just barge in.

Finally Javi reaches your half-open door- and the breath leaves his lungs at the sight before him.

He almost doesn’t want to stop you. Legs splayed, hips rocking steadily into your own hand, the other clutching the hem of the t-shirt you still wear. Your head is thrown back against the pillow.

“Javi, please,” you pant dreamily, eyes closed, lost in your fantasy.

Well, he can hardly deny such a request. Javier licks his lips. “Yes, Vecinita?”

Your eyes fly open and you squeak in shock at the sight of him, your body instinctively retreating from the unexpected presence in your doorway. Your thighs snap shut, but not before he’s caught a glimpse of what was between them. The evidence of your activities gleams on your fingers where they yank the t-shirt down.

“Javi!” You swallow hard. Your muscles relax as you recognize him, but you maintain your expression of wary confusion. “What are you doing here?”

His own posture is as casual as they come. Hands in his pockets, he strolls just a few steps further into the room.

“Heard you say my name,” Javier murmurs. He runs his gaze over you, languidly, like he’s got all the time in the world. Which he does, he supposes- it’s the middle of the day, and it would appear that neither of you have anywhere to be.

“Thought you might want some help.” When he looks back at your face, a subtle intrigue has joined the surprise there. Your eyes track him up and down in contemplation as he moves closer.

At last you lapse your protective position, stretching yourself out again and parting your legs slightly. You look at him from under your lashes. “I love having your help, Javier.” 

You still use his full name sometimes. He usually prefers his friends call him ‘Javi' (or ‘Penita’ if they must)- it’s the farthest thing from the curt ‘Peña’ he’s forced to be at work- but he finds himself unwilling to say anything every time he gets a tiny jolt at the affectionate way your mouth curls around ‘Javier’.

“Then why…” he stalks up to you on the bed, his movements decidedly predatory. “…did you start without me? Hmm, preciosa?”

The mattress dips beneath his hand as he leans over you, while the other gently cradles your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. You can’t help but turn your cheek into his palm; but Javi loves the way you shift further onto your back as he approaches, your whole body stilling under his commanding presence. He knows it’s not fear- it’s pure instinct, the way you arrange yourself for him, every muscle quivering in anticipation.

“I didn’t think you were home.” An excuse delivered with honest innocence. But your pupils dilate; your chin tips infinitesimally upward, your body’s every message communicating submission.

“Well then.” Javier leans down further so he can press his lips to yours, teasing them open with his tongue. Your limbs loosen, melting into the mattress the longer he draws out the kiss. You’re both breathless by the time he pulls away.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he whispers. Turning away from you, Javi grabs your desk chair and perches at the foot of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“…what?” All he’s done is kiss you and you already look consumed, eyes hazy with desire, lips parted expectantly.

Javi feels a prickle of pride at the effect he has on you, the curve of his lips revealing a hint of smugness. “You heard me.” He jerks his chin to the apex of your thighs, where only a tantalizing peek of what he wants is visible. “I want to know what you were thinking about. What you were begging me to do.” 

Almost of its own accord, his voice deepens to the gravely rumble it takes on during interrogations.

He’s pleased to see the quickening rise and fall of your chest, the not-quite-trepidation in your wide eyes. He reaches out to rest his his palm on your ankle.

Once you’d gotten over the shock of Javi’s unexpected appearance in your bedroom, you’d been excited. Coyly responding to what you thought had been an offer of assistance.

But then.

Then you’d heard that voice- that husky rasp, like his control was already half-gone. Which was also incorrect, you realize now, as you stare at him seated at the foot of your bed. Waiting. Watching you with those dark, penetrating eyes, half-shrouded by the turbulent light coming through the window behind him.

You shift slightly, aligning your body toward him. Still processing, but by no means saying no.

“You alright, Vecinita? Sounded like you were pretty close before I walked in.” Javier tips his head in a taunting smirk.

Your cheeks flame. You had been close, it’s true, and under his scrutiny now your body burns even hotter. It’s mortifying, electrifying, entirely more than you’ve ever experienced all at once.

You’ve never done this with him before. You’d guided his touch, yes, shown him what you liked, but never blatantly put on a show like he’s suggesting.

But you swear the heat of Javi's caress on your ankle crawls all the way up to your core. Possibly you should be embarrassed that such a tiny touch from him can provoke such a reaction, but all you feel is exhilarated, impossibly aroused by what you’re about to do.

Holding his gaze, you part your legs. Javier’s focus immediately drops. His attention is excruciating, but you slide one hand down and then back up your inner thigh, teasing. Your free hand grips your shirt again as you glide your fingers into your folds.

You think both of you might moan. Your head drops back on the pillow. “Javier,” you gasp, circling your clit.

“Tell me, Vecinita.” It sounds like the chair shifts.

“Fuck, Javi, wish it was your fingers.” You can barely get the words out, despite that he’s heard you say far filthier things under his influence. Already you’re even closer than before Javi’s arrival had stopped you, the muscles of your abdomen almost painfully tense.

If Javi responds to your cries, you don’t hear it. But you don’t need to. Even with your eyes squeezed shut, you’re aware of him, a smoldering presence mere feet away from you. Fueling your own fire, an inferno burning brighter and brighter until-

You keen helplessly as the tension implodes, hips bucking, blissful relief rippling through you. You know that just Javier’s presence makes it better than if you’d still been alone, but your own fingers don’t feel nearly as effective after having his taking care of you for so long.

As you come down, you dare to look at him.

“Feel better, preciosa?” Javi is still smirking at you, but there’s something hollow in it now. His eyes rake over you with barely concealed hunger, his hand on your ankle gripping tightly.

When his gaze lands between your spread legs, you feel it as viscerally as any physical touch. Your floor muscles clench.

Abruptly Javi stands. “Take that off,” he orders, jerking his chin toward where your nipples are peaked beneath your stretched taut t-shirt.

Agitated air currents billow over you at his movement, raising shivery goosebumps on your naked flesh. But the feeling of exposure only lasts until the bed dips at your feet, and then Javier is crawling up your body, still fully clothed. The purposeful intent on his face makes your breath catch. He kisses you hard, but when your hands go to the buttons of his shirt he snarls.

He takes your wrists in one broad hand and pins them above your head. His hips crowd into the space between your thighs, and the weight of him settling against your body makes you whine high in your throat.

“I’m not done with you yet, Vecinita.” Javi's voice is deceptively soft. “Now that I know what you imagine me doing to you…” his hand releases your wrists and slides slowly down your skin, over every curve and contour of you. “…I intend to make it a reality.”

Javier shimmies to the side just far enough to slip his fingers between your legs.

Pleasure erupts at the press of his callused fingers, tearing a moan from your chest. 

Javi groans in satisfaction at the slickness he finds, greedily working it from its source up to your clit, following the same path your own fingers had taken mere moments earlier. Sweat prickles your hairline. You shudder as he flaunts his intimate familiarity with your body.

“Vecinita.” Javi’s face is as close to yours as possible for him to still be able to watch your expressions. You look up at his insistent tone- just as he sinks two fingers into you.

The breath punches out of you as your muscles seize. 

“My job now,” Javier tells you.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning like his bedroom eyes. Brown locks fall over his forehead as he unconsciously ruts into you in time with his ministrations. You tilt your hips into his hand, and only Javi’s mouth on yours muffles your moans as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He murmurs, hushed and awestruck, as you fuck yourself against his hand.

“That’s it, preciosa.” Bliss rolls through you, unwavering as a rising tide. You’re helpless against the force of it, tingling and surging up your legs, pressure expanding between your hips- 

You come. Devastatingly hard, the weight of Javier’s body the only thing keeping you steady as you lose all sense of self to the blinding pleasure wracking your limbs. He works you through it, wringing every last spasm out of you until your cries fade.

But his movements don’t quite stop. His fingers still achingly slowly, his palm remaining an exquisitely careful pressure on your clit. You can’t seem to catch your breath- you’re so acutely aware of it, like you’re an engine left idling and Javi is keeping his hand on the throttle.

He brushes kisses over your face. His lips place softly on your brow, your nose, your cheek- until lingering at the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“What else do you think of me doing to you?” The words seem to strike sparks along your bones. You inhale sharply at his implications. “Hmm? I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.”

God, what has gotten into him today? Simultaneously demanding and acquiescent, Javier’s voice is an insidious echo in your head. He twists his torso back and forth so his shirt scrapes against your nipples. You almost yelp as your reply bursts out of you.

“Your mouth! Your tongue. On my…” you trail off as he drags said tongue down your neck, doubtless tasting the sweat he’s worked you into. 

“On your…?” Javi exhales on the damp streak he leaves, and goosebumps spring up at the cool sensation. 

“You know where.” It’s a near-whisper. The place where you’re still stretched around him. Where the slightest shift of his wrist makes you tense.

You feel his smile as Javi plants a last kiss on your collarbone. He makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and growl as he works his way down your body, pausing only to nuzzle and nip at your breasts.

Thunder rumbles outside, closer and louder than it had been. You close your eyes at the sound, letting it wash over you like your partner's leisurely devotions. You can only relax so much, however, as your anticipation grows the further south Javier travels…until the flat of his tongue envelopes your clit.

You can sense his satisfaction at your choked whimper. Immediately he has to hold your hips in place to prevent them lifting off the bed as everything in you tightens again. Torturous slowly, his tongue moves, tracing every ridge and fold of your heat with meticulous care. Your thighs tremble.

“Fuuuuck.” It’s nearly a sob, your breathing ragged.

You swear Javi laughs, a smug wheeze in the back of his throat, and it’s as his tongue probes your entrance that you remember his fingers are still inside you. He spreads them so his tongue can slip into the gap, and the complementary sensations all in one place have stars wheeling behind your eyes. Javi definitely chuckles then, a vibration you can feel against your sex, and then his mouth returns to your clit. 

His lips, tongue, and fingers move with a single-minded purpose. There’s no holding back any of the sounds you’re making now, salacious moans spilling out of you, an obscene babble of pleas and praise. Javier breathes encouragement between your thighs. You glance down briefly while his eyes are closed in concentration, wholly focused on his task.

Your head spins. Already familiar tremors pull your muscles taut, Javi’s sweet, relentless attention breaking you down more rapidly than you thought possible. You’re going to come again, you know, long before it’s about to occur. You tell him, beg him not to stop, your release bearing down on you from across an endless distance.

This one shatters you. Your spine bows with the contraction of your muscles, pieces of you scattering far and wide as you splay back against the mattress. You surrender to the ecstasy barreling through you, barely noticing Javi’s wide brown eyes watching with rapt attention.

He brings you down properly this time, gradually, until the aftershocks fade and you’re squirming away from him. You remain sprawled how you are, limp and sated, as Javier crawls back up to you.

His lips touch your cheek. “Preciosa? Vecinita. You okay?” He sounds almost worried.

A breathless laugh huffs out of you. You lazily turn your head toward him, finally opening your eyes.

“I’m fine, Javi. More than.” You smile warmly, gratefully at him.

His eyes crinkle in response. “C’mere,” he says, relieved, gathering you into his arms.

You snuggle up to him willingly, humming in contentment. The thought drifts through your mind that now it would be nice for him to be wearing less clothing. But it doesn’t stop you from drowsing into his warmth as he strokes a soothing hand over you hair and back. After several long minutes, you find the energy to speak. 

“So…what was that?”

Javi doesn’t respond for several more moments, pressing his lips to your forehead as he thinks. Or maybe stalls.

“I…don’t know,” he admits, sounding sheepish. “…was it okay?”

“Mmm,” you affirm. You lift your head just enough to plant a kiss between Javi’s rumpled, parted lapels. “Very okay.” You can't help the faint heat in your cheeks, even though it's silly to blush at the admittance given everything you had just let him do.

“Good.” Javier squeezes you tighter. “because I meant it. Your pleasure is my pleasure, Vecinita.” 

Surprised, you look up at him. He returns your gaze steadily, his sincerity clearly visible even as he watches carefully for your reaction.

You may be talking about sex, but this is a declaration of sorts, for Javi. Hauling yourself up onto one elbow, you place your other hand on his cheek and press your lips to his. You let your affection surge forth, kissing him deeply and insistently, trying to convey without words how dearly you regard him.

You think he understands. He cradles the back of your neck, clutching you to him as the urgency of the embrace crests. 

Both of your grips relax naturally after that. He sighs into your mouth as you release him, but doesn’t let you move from where you’re half laying across him. 

“Stay,” Javi murmurs, draping his arms over your back. His eyes drift closed.

Happily, you indulge. You tuck your nose into his neck and breathe him in, already feeling sleep cloud your mind.

Soft as a shush, rain begins to fall.

--

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese, @knightowl247, @pamguini, @piscespussybabe, @chibi-liz05, @dragons-of-the-usa, @bethanysboooks, @layniapetrovnaaa, @1800-fight-me, @finnisrioting (your tag wouldn't work), @sarahjkl82-blog 

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[ramblesofajester]

whispers of a witch (chap1/?

this is just a self indulgent fic for me to write when I feel like shit and yes it will have nsfw

info: they/them, curvy body, glasses, anxiety.

The cool wind sweep past your cheek as you squat down, fingers numbing and turning blue from the constant foraging across the forest floor to fine the herbs you require, its late winter and you have just run out of several herbs you use quite frequently for personal use and when healing the villagers. of course as always there is a catch when you need to get something done. one, you where delivering a baby a good portion of the day, then doing your normal round with the villagers, so soon night is to fall, two the Lycians have been testing there luck with the village borders as of resent, three the only place those herbs are left growing are near Heisenberg's land due to you harvesting all the more accessible ones previously. and just to top it all of duke wouldn't be able to gather a shipment until the next new moon, that being two weeks away so here you are right before dusk cut plants with frozen fingers outside of a missive chain-link fence in the middle of the woods. Gazing around, you are in a small clearing, the village is about a mile, mile and a half to the south west of here. the factory's smoke stacks just visible over the tree line. Sighing you focus on the task at hand, slowly griping the base of the plant you say thanks to the earth and pull it up root and all, listening to the birds as there song slowly drifted thru the trees. standing up you, make your way over to the next bushel of plants emerging from the thin coat of snow. suddenly all the brides stop singing setting off of several alarms in your brain knowing its wasn't you who disturbed them wiping around, franticly looking you hear and see movement all around you just out of sight in the brush you cant tell what it is. assuming it to be Lycians or and angry bear or even a stray ghoul from the castle grounds. garbing the dagger from your boot you crouch down to an defensive position slowly making your way toward the path you came from. as you take a step back slowly a few Lycian emerge from the tree line teeth bared eyes holding a burning hunger. a soft gasp leaves your lips if there are this many you know more are soon to follow

"well shit, I couldn't just go and have an easy day now could I?" you ask the Lycians sarcastically not really expecting a reply. a deep chuckle caught you off guard and in your shock you hear the swift shifting of metal. the feeling of cold steel on your ankle stealing your attention from the fast change of gravity as you are hoisted into the air, dangling like a prized fish. attempting to regain your bearings. you look around seeing the Lycian pack now completely surrounding you.

"well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," standing clear in the path arm outstretched to hold the chain around you feet taking a step further with every word.

"a lost little bunny, who is hoping around where they should not be..." he says in a little tune with mirth in his step. finally stopping right in front of you raising you so your face is level with his shoulders you reach out attempting to swipe at him with you dagger, as soon as you weapon is revealed is ripped from your grasp and now spinning around you and the lord. a large gloved hand grips your face forcing you to look at lord Heisenberg.

"now I cant tell if that was stupidity, or bravery little bunny but I'm guessing you dont know who I am." he speaks with amusement as he examines your face and, forces you to look at him. you stop squirming long enough to stare at the round shades perched on his nose. this being the first time you have seen the lord this close ,its usually only in passing or from the shadows as to not be noticed, but now you have to admit the stubble and scars, the cocky smile, the smell of oil, pine, smoke, and Tabaco is actually not that bad.

"No I know who you are, just really dont care cause I'm a little busy" you immediately wiggle from his grasp and start reaching for the chain around your ankles. a boisterous laughter is released from behind you and suddenly your falling about a meter, back connecting with the ground a large "oof" emanating from you. Rushing to get the chain from around you ankles it fly from your hands. jumping to your feet you face Heisenberg head held high

"oh... you do know me, so it must be stupidity, that must explain why your on my land as well" Heisenberg ponders aloud." so you must either be lost or have a death wish" he says with a chuckle

"nope not lost, just need some of the herbs here and if you live in this village and haven't runaway or offed yourself you have a death wish" you reply flatly brushing the dirt of of yourself as you stand to gather your things. "now" you say turning back to him "my dragger if you'd please" extending you hand cautiously with and expectants look.

"wow, you've got some balls on you" puffing on his cigar "you better watch that attituded bunny" you are suddenly painfully aware of the small pack of hunger Lycian circling you both "and remember who the man in control is" hand still outstretched you snap back with

"listen hear 'lord Heisenbitch' I am sorry for trespassing on you land but I need 7 different herbs and at least 5oz of each, I need them before tomorrow evening, some of them for mother Miranda, as well as a women who just gave birth in the village. Now unless you wish to explain to Miranda why her healer is missing, and her people dead due to illnesses I would like my dagger back and you and your fine fuzzy companions to kindly fuck of." you knew your words where dangerous but at this point in the evening you really didn't give a fling fuck and the shock on Heisenberg's face when he recognizes you almost made it worth it.

"Wait your Miranda's prized witch, oh man this is great, how have you lasted so long, your so small bunny" this just pissed you off more you want your dagger back but he's just so infuriating. your dont have time for this

"Fine, just keep the dagger" you say shoving past him. Growling at the Lycians blocking the path they stay there ground and growl back, only to glance behind you whimper, and slowly back away clearing the path. A chain roughly wraps around you waist spinning you around and pulling you flush against Heisenberg before returning to his trench coat pocket. blowing his smoke in your face he drawls

"wow wow wow, slow you roll peter cotton tail I ain't being stingy, I just wanna talk a little" as he says this he wraps his arm around you waist slipping your dagger back into its sheath leaving his hand to rest on the dip of your hip, the other griping your chin forcing you to look up at him

"Let. Me. Go!" you hiss out never braking your gaze of his glasses

"now what would Miranda think of this, her pet of the leash, not respecting or listening to your lord" he teases not lessening his grip at all

"I dont give a scraggly rats ass, just let me go you bastard!" you spit at him, resaving a chuckle as a reply .

"ohhh I like you bunny, you've got fight not a lot of that left hear any more. but I need something from you darling, so we are gonna take a little walk back to your place, your gonna help me, then ill help you with your little situation how does that sound there bunny?" spinning you around arm still securely on your waist, he starts to walk still puffing on his cigar, quickly you realize you have no choice in the matter. the Lycians slow start to follow you keeping there distance at about 3 meters back this continues for a wile and it might have even been pleasant having company for once on the walk, you if you ignore the hungry Lycians and the fear Heisenberg will get angry or be done with his little game. slowly the forest edge and the village come in to the distances well as a small well worn foot path leading into a thick pine forest near the base of the Benevento valley

"so bunny, which way is it" Heisenberg ask moving his arm up to rest on your shoulders using the other to jester at the path ways.

"This way" you mumble out, gesturing to the pine foot path. now moving forward on you own accord tiered of being user around like a lost child. you dont make it very far seeing as soon as you start to move away he tightens his grip

"ohh come on bunny, no need to get cold feet. your getting something good out of this too, you just chill a little there thumper" he says smirk never leaving his face.

"well it sure as hell dont feel like it, this feels more like a kidnaping only we are headed to my own dwelling" you watch as the pine trees grow thicker with every passing second drawing closer to your burrow. soon a large moon gate covered in rosemary and lavender comes into a view just beyond it several greenhouses small and large soft light emanating from a few

"Now hold up thumper if you have all of these, what were you doing traipsing around by my factory? you weren't trying to get my attention were you?" he jabs at you obviously trying to get a rise out of you.

"What I was looking for I do not grow because it is local and I had a store of some, but it a since been exhausted, lots of sick ones this season." you replied tiredly seeing as dusk has passed a wile ago and you had been called out well before day brake. now you where just too tired to deal with his shenanigans. continuing forward you approach the door and tap the center of the door with the old iron key handing from your neck three times then you insert it into the keyhole and twist it three times to the right and it slowly creeks open. rushing forwards in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you you start to tend to the fire stroking the coals and adding a few logs. while your bussing your self Heisenberg makes himself at home pulling out a chair and throwing his feet on top of the table and popping a new cigar between his lips . Turning to grab your tea pot you see this unfold waltzing over to him and slapping his feet of the table

"That is mahogany" as you say this he goes to protest " no 'lord' Heisenberg you in my domain now no feet on the table" you snatch the cigar from between his lip and toss it into the fireplace "and no smoking in the main room."

"alright, alright," he says holding his arms in the air "one you could have just put it out and handed it back thumper, and second of all watch who your talking to darlin" to this you quickly respond with

"Still dont care" he gives you grunt as a response

"third of all I still have yet to disclose the nature of my visit I need you to look at something for me" and with that he stands up his chest now centimeters from your nose he reaches for his hat and sunglasses setting them on the table, tossing his trench coat on to the chair. your face quickly turning a shade of red dark enough to rival the radishes out in garden as you realize just what he is doing. pulling of his shirt with a wince. Holding his shirt in his hands, you try not to make your gaze obvious, he slowly turns to reveal a large, deep laceration very poorly bandages and clearly in the throes of a terrible infection. you immediately push all other thoughts aside concern taking its place, you recognized this wound, you where present when he resaved it .

flashback

"you stupid man child, you know nothing you should just leave the talking to the adults like a good little boy"

"shut your dame hole you bitch"

they have been going at it for 37 minutes and counting Alcina said something Karl disagrees and so the back and forth begins about 5 minutes ago Karl brought out his hammer and been waving it out in the open. tensions have been rising and your a little worried it is about to get violent. Anggie who had been watching the argument from you lap starts to vibrate with joy sensing the approaching violence.

"ooooooooohhh its aaboutttttt tooo get goooooodddddd!!!" she sings while hoping off your lap to sit closer on donnas lap seeing as you are perched by the back wall behind Miranda. and just as you both had predicted disaster struck.

"you insolent fool." Alcina suddenly cry's, swiping her hand forward as Karl turns his back to her slashing from shoulder to hip. you immediately rush forward, only to be stopped by mother Miranda holding her arm in your path.

"ENOUGH, stop the foolishness NOW!" Miranda's voice ringing out clear through the entire hall "Heisenberg my son, stand," she demands. he slowly makes his way to his feet now facing mother Miranda "your actions have been stupid and reckless as punishment, I shall leave you with this burden to care for. maybe it will teach you how much effort it takes heal rather than destroy. and what if feels like to live with ones mistakes." you hand covers your mouth as you bite your tongue. you may not like Karl that much but he still is not as bad as they say.

end scene

"BY THE GODS, how has this not healed yet!? have you been rubbing dirt in it? I knew this was a stupid lesson. I knew I should have gone against that two faced, false goddess, pretensive ass, bitch and marched my happy ass to that factor. THAT WAS TWO WEEKS AGO, this should have been gone ages ago!!!" you shout while carefully examining the laceration. quickly you pull out the char he was previously siting on out, so he could sit on it with his back to the fire and lean on the back of the chair. grabbing Heisenberg's shoulders you gently shove him into the chair. rushing around you grab several herbs hanging from the ceiling in bundles. then over to the counter you produce a mortar and pestle along with several oils and extracts

"woooow, thumper slow down, slow down," he chides calmly garbing your shoulders, your arms still packed full of items. slowly he starts to set the items on the table. "now I didn't rub dirt in it, but there might be some oil, its not healed because I have no idea how to treat a wound this large. and what's this about Miranda being a bitch and ignoring orders?" as he says this you realized just how bad you have fucked up.

"OH MY GODS, I didn't mean a word of it lord Heisenberg I meant no disrespect please I am so sorry dont tell mother Miran-" you franticly bow keeping your eyes to the floor hoping he would ether spare you make you death quick. while he clearly doesn't like Miranda or her family he was still a part of it.

"hay hay hay thumper calm down your alright. I'm not gonna go all psycho on you, and your secret is safe with me, your not the only one with unsavory views on that bitch Miranda." your slowly look up at him in shock it is widely know that he disagree with the other lords but this is a first. you gingerly make your way over to the table and start to mix together several herbs and flowers. "and thumper just call me Karl" he says with a flirtatious grin, you blush but grinding the herbs into a powder

"only if you stop calling me thumper." slowly adding some drops of oils to the mixture making a thick green salve.

"well I gotta have something to call you bunny" he say grin stretching across his face as you blush even more now

"well my name is (Y/N) ok, now stop" you say while puffing up you cheek in a pout. rushing behind him so he can no longer see your face and you can apply the salve" this is going to sting" not give him tome to proses any thing you said you rip off the bandages and start to carefully apply the salve. a shout bubbles up in his throat the second the salve touches his shoulder

"SON OF A Bitch..." he snarls" maybe a little more warning next time y/n" as soon as he growls out your name you short circuit you hand no simply resting next to his wound "y/n... y/n" he waits a couple of seconds before trying again. "y/n!" jumping a little you come back to reality " you all good back there" Karl questions

"almost done just need to finish this up, then I will apply bandages, and all you need to do is rest for a day or two" as you Finnish saying this you reach for he bandages and gently begin to properly wrap the wound "this is how you properly wrap a wound Karl" you make sure to say first his name. "go all the way around and over and around the shoulder" slowly and carefully placing the bandages showing him the movements and positions. you move around to the front of lightly wrapping his shoulder "dont go to tight when bandaging joints, it increases mobility but not lose enough to move" as you speak solely focused on you task at hand you dont see Karl staring at your face, a look of adoration on his face which he is quick to drop once you turn to him. gently patting his shoulder "now all you need is a lot of rest and a hot meal" smiling you slowly make your way over to the fire removing the teapot and hanging a medium sized cauldron over the fire. turning kettle in hand you see Karl putting on his hat and going to pull his coat on having already put his shirt on

"well thumper its been wonderful but I have to get back to my-" you cut him off taking his coat and hanging it by the door.

"oh no you don't, you need rest and real food, and not to make any assumptions but I doubt you'll get any of those in your factory" as you say this you put the chair back in its normal position swiftly going to a small spare room on the side. grabbing a thick blanket you walk to the table, and drape it over the back of the chair. patting it flat you open your arms and jester to the chair "now please have a seat food will be done shortly" you say with a smile as he just stand there slack jawed at you attempting to boss him around. slowly he take a seat and just watches as you prepare a cup of tea for you both "hear this should help with the pain" you say handing him a large mug that still looked too small in his hand. you turn and head back to the counter and start dicing us vegetables and some fish to put the cauldron.

"thank you" he mumbles quietly watching you dance about the kitchen a soft smile on his face. "so what's your story? you obviously dont like Miranda so why stay and be her little pet healer on her beck and call." Karl jests wanting to know more about you now that he has the chance with out his stupid family there

"well a long time ago I has someone I had to look out for, they needed help I could not provide it, Miranda could. So I made a deal, help her, and ill do as wish. So I comply to keep her safe and happy, if it went for her, I would have sent that false deity to her flaming grave decades ago." you finished cutting the veggies and meat depositing it in the pot, you make your way opposite of Karl at the table and take a seat. slowly sipping your tea. "now I just tend to the villagers for Miranda and visit my belladonna"

"wait who is belladonna" he askes a look of confusion overtaking his features

"my apologies, I mean donna, before Miranda adopted her and gave her her gift she was a sad and lonely child with parents too ill to save, so after her parents passing, I watched over her and loved her as my own" you say a soft smile on your face looking around the room I was the only one she let touch Anggie, she was such a kind child asking so many questions behind closed doors and always eager to learn new skills" you reminisce the old days setting your now empty cup on the table. "but now she's grown and well, and happy, so that is all that matters" you say curtly standing and heading over the the bubbling pot of stew and giving it a stir.

"so wait your telling me you the witch who raised Benevento," Karl spouts astonishment clear in his voice. "One how are you not dead yet? Two that's why you spend so much time in that spooky ass house, and three how come you aren't an old hag you dont look a day over 25?" even in shock this man some how still manages to throw in a flirt. you give a small chuckle.

"well when I struck my deal with Miranda," you make you way over to a tall cabinet and withdraw two wooden bowls and a large ladle ." donna was just become a young adult, so she new what excepting Miranda's gift would entitle, including the prolonged life." returning to the stew and scooping a hefty serving into Karl's bowl and only filling your half way. "after her parents suicided she couldn't handle the loss another parental figure, her words not mine, she refused the treatment unless Miranda changed me as well." hanging the ladle on the wall and carefully turning back to Karl and making your way to him. "I had already had my go at life and helped as many as I could so I agreed not expecting to come out alive," you say calmly sitting down in the seat acres from Karl. "unfortunately my will was to strong so hear I am now, a fail experiment serving out my end of the deal" you give a sarcastic smile and do a little jazz hands as your story comes to a close. Karl is still for moment then burst into a deep laughter, but still alarmed at your willingness to except death.

"I'm sorry bunny I dont mean to be insensitive," he attempts to suppress his chuckles. "you are really the one that raised donna?"

"yes I am I know its a little hard to believe, but yes." you say solemnly feeling a little weird everyone who knew you too be donnas nanny have long since passed.

"no no no, there ain't nothing wrong with that darlin! In fact you did fucking awesome, out of all of us monsters she has the best manners and turned out the best." he says in a panicked tone, afraid he has said something wrong.

"Karl none of you are monsters, and your ok you didn't say anything wrong" you say quickly adding " none of you are monsters! you and the other were forced into the experiments, unlike donna and I. your only a monster when you subject an enter village to a false religion just to slaughter them for her experiments under the name of a sick false family she has not love for!" you say venom and hate for that hag dripping from each word. a stern but caring look on your face as you look rights in his eyes as you say this "you aren't a monster. you where a kid with out a choice, and now you are a man surviving and your doing amazing in your situation." you cautiously grab his hand resting in the table " you are not a monster no mater who has told you that including your self" He pulls back lightly but does not remove your hand from his., allowing you to rub his knuckles.

"but I-" he starts but you dont let him continue

"nope you cant convince me other wise, I'm the village crazy witch I am all knowing and wise." you say in a cherry tone, garbing his hand with both of yours. using one to tap out a small tune on the back of his hand. that nice deep laughter made an appearance again you have to admit its nice to hear him laugh instead of ague with everyone.

"well dame bunny, can't argue with that logic now can I " A large toothy grin takes over his face little crinkles show at the corners of his eyes. shaking his head he gives a chuckle then picks up the bowl of stew and finishing what was left in the bowl in a few gulps. setting the bowl down he asks "shit that hit the spot, can I just take you home with me and have you cook for me every night that some dame good stew" he jokes. laughing a little you finish your bowl, garbing his you stand and bring them to a bucket at the end of the sink.

"no I cant come home with you every day" rinsing the plates before setting them in the bucket you continue. "but you can come over when ever the lantern on the porch is light, if its not I am either in the village with a patient, or visiting donna or Miranda, or foraging. I am a busy witch Karl, just a warning." he chuckles

"ill make a note of that expect me often that shits good." he says pointing at the pot hanging over the small flames.

"well in that case ill put some in jars so you can take it with you when you leave tomorrow" you say off handedly while making your way over to the pot fishing the leftovers out, and putting it in two large mason jars. out of the corner of your eye you see him deflate a little when you when you mention his departure tomorrow. moving over to a wall of cupboard you store the two jars "to night you can take my bed or the cot in the guest room, though I dont know if you'll fit" you say walking over to said door and opening it reveling a small room with a vanity in the back left corner to the left of the door was a small sink and counter with a basin next to it. opposite to that was a small cabinet and in the back right corner a small wooden cot about half the side of the man now standing directly behind you in the doorway. so close, when he took a deep breath you could feel his shirt brush your, and his warm breath fans across your neck. now with bright red face you make you hastily make you way to the cabinet to the right of the door and start to grab a large quilt and a pillow or two. Karl enters the room looking around taking in the new environment and casually making his way over to the cot and taking a seat. you head over to him staring at the blanket hoping that he would not see your face

"thank you, y/n you really could've just sent my packing I really appreciate it I do" he says with a soft smile resting on his scared face, 'it suites him,' you think to your self 'he should smile more.'

"well hear you go this should be think enough it gets pretty chilly in hear and I haven't fixed the heater yet so if you need more there are some in the cabinet you say gesturing to the cabinet with your head. holding the blanket and pillow out for him to take he reaches hands grazing against yours as he takes them from your hands pulling them closer"

"thanks bunny I re-" he is abruptly cut short by a sharp wine of wood under duress followed quickly by a loud snap of the cot braking a the loud thud of Karl's ass hitting the floor. "OH FUCK" Karl was now the one looking up at you. slapping a hand over your mouth to suppress the laughter about to burst from you.

"OH by the gods, are you ok" you say still trying to hold back the onslaught of giggles offering a hand for him to take

"so this is what the weather is like down here" he says jokingly as you hoist him off the ground carful of his shoulder and back. gently slapping his chest

"I'm only a little shorter than you, ya know" you say "but in light of me needing to purchase a new cot from duke, I guess you'll be sleeping in my bed tonight." he gives you a flirty look

"dame thumper if you wanted me in your bed that bad all you had to do was ask not buries my ass first" he says with a deep chuckle.

"I am not tying to get you in my bed" you say panicked face exploding with red. "I wont even be in it with you, and secondly it wasn't that far of a drop so the only thing damage was you ego and my cot obviously. now come follow me please." you say now attempting to lead him out of the room. Karl looks at you as if he was trying to figure something but soon trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you lead him through the main room down a hallway with three doors heading to the furthest down you push open the heavy wooden door. letting Karl enter first you make your way to the bed garbing your favorite pillow and a thick blanket off the bed spread "well she's all yours" you say jokingly waving your arm over the bed as a invitation dont lay on your back or shoulder" you say making your way back to the door arms now full "sleep well." and with at you turn to leave only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

"wait if I'm sleeping here and I just demolished your spare bed where will you be sleeping" he ask concern lacing his voice a he turn you around to face him

"well ill go clean up the old cot and then ill just use some spare blankets as a mattress for the night." you say with out a second thought.

"no no no, I will not let you do that you have done enough for me. I'll just go back to my factory and be out of your hair." your face scrunches up.

"you say that as if I am annoyed by you, but I can assure you, you do not annoy me. next I wont let you leave this hut you need to rest and I need to change those bandages as soon as you wake." you say no room for argument evident in your voice. "and if you have such an issue using my bed but I apologies its the only one, and I wont let you sleep on the floor with that wound." you with finality.

"then I guess well just have too share it. cues I will just jump through a window to go back home" he say with a laugh. you have no idea if he was joking or not. still, gazing up at his face the smirk remained "so" he asks "which will it be will you join me or and I gonna have to practice my long distance sprint." you sigh growing tired with every passing second your long day finally catching up too you. no longer having any energy to argue.

"fine" you huff out walking over to the bed where Karl was I like the right side" climbing in you take a body pillow from the back of the bed putting it in the middle " you better stay on your half of the bed old man" you say climbing back down from the bed and heading a dresser under a large window. you produce a pair of sleep thin pants and a large think white long sleeved shirt. "I need to change so ether steep out or just dont look." to tired to care at this point you look over your shoulder and see him turned away from you sitting on the left side of the bed. replacing your dirty clothe with fresh sleep pants and a oversized top. garbing a spare pair of large sleep pants and shirt before making your way back to the bed, flopping onto it comically ,while tossing the change of clothing on his side of the bed "hear you go, this should fit" he looks down at the articles of clothing.

"well thank you bunny," undoing his belt and changing his pant, completely ignoring the new shirt. "but uhhh I dont think that shirt is gonna work though" he says smirk evident in his voice.

"and why would that be-" you ask confusion clear on you face as you roll over to face him without thinking. face exploding in color as you freeze up, now staring at his bare chest brain loosing any train of thought.

"my eyes are up hear now bunny," he says with a deep chuckle "but please dont let me interrupt your staring. as for why I never sleep with one its confining" smirk never leaving his face, as he lays down on his half of the mattress. quickly you roll over

"I wasn't staring, I zoned out. Just toss the shirt on to the top of the dresser" he gives another chuckle but says nothing. pulling the thick comforter up to you chin due to the chill, reaching over you turn the knob on the lantern smothering the flame. "good night Karl sleep well" you say without a second thought closing your eyes slowly, reality fading out as you hear Karl

"goodnight thumper sleep well" a gentleness to his tone that sends the rest of the way to sleep.

word count: 5884

ps: please forgive my horrid grammar

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil #res 8 #res evil #donna beneviento #re8 angie #re8 donna #re8 karl heisenberg

[valeriethepussycats]

Assemble

Chapter 15

Pairing- Loki x Reader x Steve (one side)

Warning- cursing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.

Your Alter ego name- Red Wing

Suddenly, all of the  Chitauri soldiers and Chitauri Leviathan  Hundreds keel  over  and begin to shake, then stop. They all fall over. The Avengers look up at their consultant , not sure if she'll make it through.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Still holding the scepter in hand, Black Widow shifts around, waiting.

“Come on, Y/n...”  Natasha whispered.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Thor and Cap see the supernova coming towards them. Thor nods at Cap then looks away. Thor wanted to leave. He didn’t wanted to be there anymore he’s best friend was gone and he didn’t get a chance to fully.....

“Close it.” Steve said quietly.

Tony makes his way over to Thor and Steve and see a men walking away smoking a cigar. “Who was that?”  

Steve turns around and rushes to Wolverine side. “Where are you going.”

“I came to help. I help ok  I have another teammate on the other side of the city that I need to go check now if you excuse me.”  Wolverine stated as he walks away.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Without hesitating, Black Widow pulls the scepter out, the tesseract turns off its energy beam. The portal quickly closes. A small figure is hurled backwards into the open now closed portal. Red Wing is Plummeting to the earth.

“Yes!!” Thor beamed.

“Son of a gun!” Steve said smiling.

Y/n keeps falling. And falling. And falling.

“She's not slowing down.” Thor swings Mjölnir around. Just as Thor flies up, The Hulk Snags Y/n out of the air crashing his back into the building and sliding down a building.  Hulk place Y/n on the ground. Thor and Cap run over to him. Cap and Thor see healing burn marks on Hulks arm. Thor goes to check to see if Y/n is breathing. She appears to be dead.

They stand around  not sure. Then... The Hulk Yells in Fury. But nothing happens so Steve kneel down and gives Y/n CPR. Aftershocks minute and half Y/n  wakes up Gasping for air.

“What just happened?” Y/n asked.

“We won.” Steve whispered to Y/n

Y/n  sits up happily and hugs Steve. “We did it.”

Thor snatch Y/n up and into a hug. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” Y/n said softly “but your squishing me.”

Thor immediately lets go. “Sorry.”

“I think Y/n has earn the day off in fact  we all did phenomenal  pat on the back for everyone so let’s not come in tomorrow....Ok there's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't  know what it is, but I wanna try it.”  Tony proclaimed.

Thor looking up at Stark Tower. “We're not finished yet.”

“And then shawarma after.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Loki crawls onto the stair, looking like a piece of shit rag doll. He takes a few breathers, senses someone is behind him. He turns to find The Avengers staring at him, pissed.

“If it’s all the same to you. I'll have that drink.”

The Hulk snorts at him.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

In tv news montage about  The Avengers, we see various reports of what happened. Some people agree that the avengers did good, protecting the city. Others believe it was their cause.

“Superheroes? In New York? Give me a break!”

“These so called heroes have to be held responsible for the destruction done to

the city. This was their fight. Where are they now?”

“What? That this was somehow their fault? Captain America saved my life.

Wherever he is, wherever any of them are, I just wanna say thank you.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

The Avengers take Thor and Loki, who is handcuffed and muzzled,

to a blocked area. Thor shakes hands with his team and gives Selvig and Y/n a hug.

“Don’t have to much fun without me.” Y/n said with a smile.

“Never.” Thor smiled back.

we’ll see each other again. Loki thought echoed into Y/n’s head.

You bet your ass you gonna see me again. Y/n replied.

Loki winks at Y/n and she turns away from everyone to hide her goofy smile.

He just committed genocide calm down

Tony opens the Tesseract's case.

Banner takes it out and places inside a glass tube, held by Thor. Thor gives Loki the other end, who reluctantly takes it. The Asgardians leap into the energy beam. Gone . Then, one-by-one, the group splinters off, strolling into different directions. Banner climbs in with Tony in his sportscar.

“You know there’s room for one more.” Tony said revving his engine. “Us Geniuses have to stick together.”

“Thanks but I have to take care of something first.” Y/n answered.

“Well when your ready you know where we’ll be.” Tony told Y/n.

“Ya I do.”

Natasha and Clint climb back into Shield cars. They all part. For now.

“If I remember correctly you where suppose to finish show me around the new Brooklyn.” Steve said walking up to Y/n.

“Ya I am I don’t have nothing to do now-“

“Y/n.”

It hit her. It hit her like a freight train she wasn’t expecting to hear that voice after all these years honestly she doesn’t know if she was going to have her call him. A part of her thought that he didn’t want nothing to do with her. Oh how wrong she was. When Y/n finally turns around she see Gambit standing there. “Gambit.”

Y/n looks over at Steve.

“Go. There’s always other times.” Steve  declared.

“I’ll be right back” Y/n runs doesn’t care of the pain that she’s in she runs and when she finally gets a few feet away from him she stops. Just to make sure this is an dream just to make sure that this is really him. And just when she’s about to move he beats her to it. He hugs her like his life depended on it probably squeezing the life out of her but she doesn’t care.

He’s back

Gambit back

“I’ve missed you........so much.” Y/n said not care about the tears that are falling down her face.

“Come on now p you know what happens when you cry.” Gambit playfully scolded.

Steve looks at the  hair loo the rides away in his Harley.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Fury is facing once more members of the World Security Council.

“Where are the Avengers?” World Security Council #3 asked.

“I’m not currently tracking their whereabouts. I’d say they’ve earned a leave of absence.” Nick answered.

“And the Tesseract?” World Security Council #2 wondered.

“The Tesseract is where it belongs: out of our reach.” Nick responded.

“That's not your call.” World Security Council #1 disclosed.

“I didn't make it. I just didn't argue with the god that did.” Nick replied.

“So you let him take it and the war criminal, Loki, who should be answering

for his crimes?”

“Oh, I think he will be.”

“I don't think you understand what you've started. Letting the Avengers loose on this world. They're dangerous.”

“They surely are. And the whole world knows it. Every world knows it.”

“Was that the point of all this? A statement?”

“A promise.” Fury walks out, towards the bridge.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Fury and Agent Hill walk together, toward the window looking out into the world.

“Sir, how does it work now? They've gone their separate ways, some pretty

extremely far. We get into a situation like this again, what happens then?” Agent Hill questioned.

“They'll come back.” Nick declared.

“You really sure about that?”  Agent Hill asked.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because we'll need them to.”

Agent Hill turns around. Fury looks out, smiling.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Tony and Pepper reveal the new design for Stark  Tower  have been blown away, and all that remains is a giant A.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Nick Fury walks up to the door and remove his eyepatch so it can do face recognition as the door opens he see Coulson.

“How are you......”

“Alive I don’t know one moment I was with telling Y/n that I’m proud of her then it felt like I was asleep.” Coulson explained.

“Y/n was crying she cried on you.”

Coulson eyes widened in shock to what Nick is hinting at. “You don’t think...”

“The Phoenix.....She can’t never find out.” Nick proclaimed.

“You have to tell her. You saw what happened when she found out about her mother you really want to keep this from her.” Coulson commented.

“I’ll come up with something She can never know that she brought you back to life Coulson.

Every piece in the puzzle always gets Assembled.

Happy Holidays!!!

@aesthethickks​

#loki x reader #loki x black!reader #thor x reader #steve x reader #steve x black!reader #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

[cagestark]

Introduction to Ink//3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Chapter Four

Bucky doesn’t know how he didn’t see this coming. If luck was all he had, he’d have nothing. Some greater force keeps drawing them back into each other’s orbit, except with his pants down and his hand around his cock is the most inconvenient place for those orbits to cross.

“Oh my god,” Toni says, her voice guttural and pulled from someplace deep in her chest. One hand is pressed between her breasts, startled, like she’s trying to hold her heart in place. Despite stumbling onto a very private moment, she doesn’t look away. Her entire gaze is focused on his cock even as he hastily shoves it back into his boxers and tries to tug up his jeans around his slim hips. 

Over one of her slim arms is his jacket which she had walked away with. 

“I thought you were just going to wait until it went away,” she says. “I didn’t know you—why’d you stop?”

“What the hell do you mean, why’d I stop?” 

She steps out of the treeline teetering between confident and timid: chin up but shoulders stiff. “Keep going.” 

“It’s not exactly a collaboration—” 

“I’m not collaborating. Consider me a, an audience.” 

“What?”

Sounding more like a question than a statement, she says: “I want to watch you.”

Bucky lets out a long trembling breath, head thudding back against the tree trunk helplessly, eyes shut so he doesn’t have to see her determined expression. Why is he being tested this way? Is this Heaven or Hell, because he can’t tell the difference. 

“In what world,” he asks, slitting his eyes open. “Would jerkin’ off in front of you not count as taking advantage of you? It’s like—indecent exposure!”

Like a shark with blood, she must be able to smell the weakness in the air around him because she uses it to creep a step closer, her eyes locked on the dark bulge visible beneath his open jeans. Her gaze has weight, pinning him in place and making his cock jerk, the poor bastard. It feels all the worse to be tucked away and neglected when just a moment ago he’d been chasing a quickly approaching orgasm. 

“I’ll stay right here,” she says, pointing to a soft spot of grass almost a dozen feet away. “How can you take advantage of me all the way over here?” 

Bucky shakes his head. But he makes no move to button up his jeans. 

“Bucky.” A jolt goes down his spine to settle in his cock; it’s the first time he’s ever heard his name come from her mouth, and he wants to hear it again. Wants to pull it from her throat and chest, wants to hear it shouted and groaned and whispered and whined. “I, I really want to watch you touch yourself.” 

“You’re fucking dangerous,” he mutters. The arousal makes his head fuzzy until it’s hard to think about anything else. He closes his eyes to take several steadying breaths. With a hand that trembles the slightest bit, he points. “You stay over there. The whole time.”

“Yes,” Toni hisses, maybe an answer to his demand, maybe just a victorious oath. 

“Further back. Further. That’s—fine.” 

Toni spreads out his jacket and kneels, leaning back until she is seated on her heels. Her skirt pools around her, dark and floaty, turning her into a forest nymph. Albeit, one that can’t seem to get comfortable if the way she shifts says anything. She’s wet, he remembers, cock twitching. He’d bet that she feels like liquid heat if he could slip his hands up her skirt and shift her soaked panties aside. Touch her where she’s never been touched by anyone else before. Take her clit between his fingers, hold her thighs apart and show her no mercy. 

“Come on,” she says with breathless eagerness. “Take it out, I want to see it again."

“I swear to god Toni, if you try and come over here—” 

“I won’t,” she promises. It’s the clearest her eyes have been seen she first stumbled across him in the trees. “You said not to. No means no, right?” 

He lets out a long breath. “Right.” 

Reaching down, he drags the waistband of his boxers away and down until they rest with his jeans beneath his balls. Once he starts, he knows that he won’t be able to stop. 

“This...isn’t going to take long,” he admits. Bucky’s chin drops towards his chest as he finally wraps his hand around himself again. He’s slick and hot in his grip, working himself with long, slow strokes, wringing beads of cum from the head. It’s so good that it almost hurts having been kept so close to the edge for this long. With nothing else to look at, he lets his eyes settle on her. 

Toni looks entranced. Feverish, her hands fisted in her skirt and her eyes glued to where his hand rhythmically strips his cock. For a moment, he thinks that she’s swaying drunkenly, but then he realizes that she’s tilted her pelvis, unconsciously seeking friction on her cunt.

“You don’t have any clue what you’re doin’ to me,” he says through his teeth. 

Her eyes don’t even leave his cock. “Tell me.” 

“Driving me to distraction all night,” he admits. “Making me so goddamn conflicted. Part of me wants to push you back into the grass and bury my face between your legs, tease you like you were teasing me. Keep you right there on the edge for as long as I wanted, until you’re crying because you need it so bad. I could do it. I’m, how’d you say it? Practiced.” 

A sound slips from her throat, something high and breathy and destroyed. “Keep going,” she says, chest heaving from rapid breaths. 

Bucky is helpless to obey. He licks his lips.

“Another part of me thinks that you’d like being in charge. You like power, don’t you honey? The power you’ve got over me. You want me to lay back and be good for you, let you use me? You could get off that way, just dragging your clit back ‘n forth against my cock. Afterward, you would get to decide whether I cum or not, if I get mine or if you leave me aching all night just because you want to. Just because you can.” 

She groans his name. 

Gasping, he takes his hand from his cock to keep from shooting his load. His cock bobs in the night air, beads of cum dripping from the head until he almost thinks that he’s cum anyway, ruined it for himself. But the pressure in his balls remains and a single loose stroke drives the pressure higher.

Maybe he should draw it out, he thinks, seek to make himself look impressive to her. But then his eyes drift back to her. 

Toni has laid herself back in the grass, propped up on one elbow. Dark hair pools on the ground, her face tipped up towards the trees, mouth parted. Her other tanned hand has disappeared beneath the waistband of her skirt. The fabric is tugged down far enough to bare a palm’s worth of flat midriff to his hungry eyes, but it’s hardly what has his attention. Being covered, he can only see the shape of her hand and the muted movements it makes, but there is no doubt what she’s doing. 

Bucky has just enough foresight to sink his teeth into his knuckles and stifle the noise that tears free from his chest as his balls tighten. He cums before he even manages a second stroke, seed spurting onto the grass as he resumes his prior pace. His eyes are open but unseeing, hand squeezing tight as he fucks into the ring his fingers make, milking every last drop from himself. By the time his vision returns, his legs are shaking, throat raw, the taste of blood in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Toni cries. She barely sounds like herself. Gone is the low melodic voice she’s lulled him with all night; instead she sounds the way his own throat feels, her chest heaving in a way that makes him want to coax it up underneath her arms so that he can taste every inch of her burning skin. “Bucky please touch me—”

He drops to his knees, wiping cum onto the grass before wrenching up his pants to fasten them.

“Please, will you help me, please—” 

He crawls that last stretch of distance until he’s close enough to breathe in the faint smell of her expensive perfume, the scent of smoke—and beer.

“I’m so close—” 

His hands shake with the urge to reach out and touch her, but—

“I can’t,” he says. “I can’t, honey, you’ve got to do it yourself.” 

“No-o,” she moans. Her knees rise until the soles of her feet are flat on the ground, skirt pulled down by gravity until both of her slim, tanned legs are revealed. The pooled skirt covers her uppermost thighs and hides the movement of her hand, but now she has the leverage to move her hips in shallow thrusts, and that imagery nearly wrecks him. “I can’t. I can’t.” 

“You can, come on, focus. Lay back—there, good. Tease your nipples, it will help.” His mouth goes dry at the easy way she obeys without any snarky comebacks, laying back in the grass and shoving a hand up her soft cotton top. Teasing her tits because he told her too. God, if he hadn’t cum already, he’d be blowing his load now. 

Her eyes are closed tight, forehead creased in concentration. 

“Fuck me,” Bucky murmurs brokenly. “You’re so fucking beautiful you know that? Dirty, too. Touching yourself like this where anyone could see you, where I can see you—” 

She gives a stuttered laugh, thighs shaking around her own hand: “Hypocrite.” 

“At least I know I’m dirty,” he says. “You didn’t even know the depths of your own depravity before tonight, did you honey? Now you’re getting a clue, but I bet you’re just scrapin’ the surface. It’s an itch you’ll always be reaching to scratch, trust me.”

“Might help if I had an extra set of hands,” she says through her teeth. 

“If that’s what you need, then you won’t cum at all,” says Bucky. “But I’d bet—” 

“Hello!”

The voice echoes in the space around them, bouncing off the trees. Both of their heads turn, twin expressions of horror on their faces. Beneath the screech of crickets and cicadas comes the sound of someone picking their way through the trees with slow, careful steps.

“No, no, no,” Toni groans lowly. 

“It’s Wanda,” Bucky mutters. “Jesus, where’s my fucking shirt?” 

A hand, warm from where it was cupping her own breast, reaches out and wraps around his wrist with surprising strength. Toni looks up at him with wide, frantic eyes, lips red and bitten raw. “But I’m close, I—” 

“You want Wanda to help you with that?” Bucky asks. “Because she’s going to be here any moment.” 

Toni lets her head fall back to thud against the soft grass, the picture of frustration and dejection. He goes to rise again but her fingers tighten, pulling him back to her side. Some complex emotion is playing out across her pretty face, and he can’t follow it. For a moment he thinks something is on the tip of her tongue, but then something is on the tip of his. 

Sliding her hand from the waistband of her skirt, he gets the brief glimpse of her fingers glistening wet before she smears them across his mouth, his lips parting on instinct as the taste of her bursts on his tongue, mostly tasteless with a hint of musk that has him groaning, his mouth chasing her hand even as she pulls away. 

“Get your shirt,” she says. 

He tugs it into place just as Wanda breaks through the treeline, eyeing them with suspicion that is quickly dissolved. 

“Nat says she’s ready to play the reigning champ,” Wanda says. “I’m supposed to escort you back. Toni, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she mutters, standing on shaky legs. She picks up Bucky’s jacket and hands it to him as she passes, the flush still high in her cheeks, eyes refusing to make contact with him. Walking past either of them, she tracks her way through the woods with loud, careless steps. 

Wanda blinks at him. “Something I said?” she whispers.

#winteriron #female!tony stark #toni stark

[katsukikitten]

Rouge 3

A/N MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR DEPRESSION AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

×××××××××××××××××××××

"April 20th, I know that's Bakugou's birthday but...but he said...." You swallow thickly your body raging with emotions not sure which you would finally land on. As if it were a wheel of fortune spun, hinting heavily that it would land on either mind numbing despair or burning hot wrath.

Why would he *lie* to you?

And why did you care?

The room flashes in vibrant color and in boring tones of grey. Kirishima's ruby hair and eyes are suddenly too bright before they dull just to blind you again. The red reminds you of something.

Of someone.

Of skin decaying away like caked mud to reveal crimson beneath.

Of scarlet eyes pleading for you to move. To run and far away from what the two of you faced.

Despite him being trapped.

A scene that has since played in your dreams for the past few months.

The world spirals with dizzying color that attempt to swatch into gray.

"Y/N?" Kirishima calls softly, strong hands cupping onto your shoulders as his face leans towards yours. Alchohol wafts into your nose, burning as everything else does.

You clench your eyes shut. Forcing the episode into its place, before letting your face meld into a small smile.

"I guess I really need this drink then." You force a laugh and Kirishima cannot tell otherwise, "Thanks for setting me straight Kiri."

He smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your hair line before whispering in your ear.

"He's been worried about you."

With that he leans over and pours extra liquor into your cup. When he leaves the kitchen you swallow down the whole bottle in a few swigs. A dangerous game to play considering there could be two outcomes when you're fucked up.

One you're giddy, overly happy and laughing your ass off.

Two, the world is so oppressive that everything is tainted in an awful sickly black.

Slolwy the world blooms in distorted color as a smile creeps onto your face.

The music shakes the house with heavy bass as lyrics filter through the massive speakers.

*"I'm only alive when I'm with yoooouuu."*

You sway to the music allowing yourself to be lost in the blinding swirling colors as more and more heroes offer you drinks. Smiling faces as they laugh with you and your stories. Coming alive thanks to booze and the occasional slipped pill. Your head is heavy, yet light as you float across the living room turned dance floor as the bass rings out hard enough it seems to shake the sweat from your skin.

You're not sure who ends up grinding on you first, or who kisses who first but you know you enjoy it. Love laughing, teasing and touching with anyone who's down. With anyone that helps you forget. Further encouraging your high, the colors blinding and so vibrant you can see them even when your eyes are closed, especially so when they're pressed against a soft set of lips.

Mina breaks the kiss first giggling as she does.

"Okay Denki now you've got to take the three shots!" The crowd erupts in a cheer as he does watching him down those three double shots causes you to stare into your empty solo cup.

Reminding you that you need another drink.

But the longer you stare at the blinding bright red, the more it seems the plastic melts in your hand.

Turning sticky, thick and much darker.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself as everything floods your senses at once.

Your quirk finally kicking in to sober you after the ungodly amounts of painkillers and alcohol you've consumed.

Suddenly it is as if you've touched a live wire, hearing beyond the ear shattering cheers all the way into the walls of the house where the mice chew on the wood.

As if their teeth are gnawing directly on your eardrums.

The sound competing with the crowd's seemingly collective heart beat with their red cups raised high. The plastic catches in the lowlight shimmering with the sweat of condensation before everything snaps.

Feeling everything so intensely it's numbing.

The room plunges into deep black but no one bats an eye, especially not as you snatch a pack of smokes and a lighter from an unsuspecting bystander right out of his black denim jacket.

You climb the steps, eyes guiding you in the dark, pushing past a kissing couple that you think is Todoroki and Momo but your mind is too warped to tell.

After three tries you finally find a room empty of slapping bodies and drunken moans. You slide open the window, snaking out before climbing onto the upper roof.

Back nestled against cooled shingles beneath the light of the stars. Filter to your lips you flick the lighter and watch the black flame dance before you inhale enough for the tabbacco catch.

The bass vibrates the ceiling below you as smoke escapes your lips and nostrils in a slow hiss.

"I feel like Bakugou would fucking hate this type of party." Is all you can think to say to the pale moon hanging high in the sky.

Silence stretches between you two as you stare into the ancient face of a long forgotten deity.

"Did I miss telling him happy birthday?" You ask the moon and still no answer comes.

Typical for you to ask all the wrong things.

At the wrong time.

And to the wrong celestial being.

Tears prick your eyes as that endless weight settles in your chest, slow blinking hoping that one day your lids will never reopen.

"You're right. I do fucking hate this party." Fear hardly clutches your stomach before the vice is quickly released, spying flecked red eyes.

Your fingers twitch before you light another smoke, half wondering if he is real or just something your ever adaptive mind is giving you to ease the pain.

The heavy loneliness.

Still you sit up and tilt the pack towards the possible mirage despite his sitting more than ten feet away.

He sucks his teeth, using precision to obliterate the offered pack with out burning your fingers.

"That's new..."

"Those are fucking bad for you." He snarls, you manage enough energy to roll your eyes before meeting his again.

Wholly noticing how his irises pale in the soft light, looking more like two blood moons forever suspended over a perpetual snarl.

It makes you laugh how something so breath taking could be paired with such displeasure.

Well that and the fact that he thinks a little smoke is gonna hurt you.

"Uh did you forget my quirk?" You tease, slowly you manage to force some life back into your face.

It's his fucking birthday after all.

Embers burn hot into your skin until shame settles over you once more.

You sigh out gripping the shingles of the roof, trying your damnedest not to break them. Thoughts swirling in your head with every passing second.

Continuously landing on a few.

Like how could you really forget his birthday?

Or more like how could you really think almost a whole year passed since your last failure?

Or how could you even count the days when all you could see was the red of his cheeks as his arms snapped backward?

Of the way his sunkissed skin fell as if it were chipped away by dirty nails?

Of the color beneath the flaking skin solidified before threatening to turn that precious fucking red into soul shattering grey.

The tile shingle snaps coming up to slice your palm causing red to ooze out onto all the shades of black.

The quiet between you becomes suffocating as time ticks by, furthering your spiral.

All the while memories from high school until now flood into the forefront of your mind as you feel nothing but a heated gaze raking across your skin.

Had he always been watching?

He sure did show up at odd times in your life.

At times you were moments away from the edge, even pulling you back majority of the time.

All the while acting as if you were the biggest nuisance to walk the Earth.

But looking back you can see it, subtle yet obvious when it clouded those blood red moons.

Worry and fear paired with a tight grip and even harsher words.

An instigated fight, an encouraged argument until slowly the emotions changed from that worry.

From the fear you hadn't thought the arrogant hot head capable of to something else entirely.

Relief.

That's what flooded his eyes each time he safely brought you back to the dorms or the agency. It feels as if he's been the only one to ever truly worry.

The only one to look hard enough, to see past the fogged glass.

Words claw up your throat, fighting one another as they do.

Phrases and cries for help all the same as all you want to do is reach out for those strong arms to wrap around you.

To openly cry as you pulled on the fabric of his shirt until it took the form of your fist, even when you released it.

You swallow thickly finally deciding on what to say.

"Happy Birthday Bakugou-chan!" You sing song, forcing every ounce of what little happiness you have into the well wish. Hoping beyond hope it makes up for everything you should've said.

His heart hammers in his chest as he watches your lips curve upwards and over your teeth, as your cheeks scrunch up your face, lids closing over such a stunning fucking color.

He would have thought it real if he hadn't known better.

If he hadn't watched you climb from the window with that God damn zombie look plastered on your face.

"Don't." He bites, causing your heart to free fall into your stomach, "I can't watch you fucking lie any more."

His jaw ticks while your nails bite into your fresh wound, keeping it open to keep you seated.

"I..." He growls audibly before going on, "You can show me you know. I can handle it. I can fucking try to help."

You open your mouth to say something but a gust of wind blows through you before a hand is wrapped tightly around your neck.

Half of a lanky grey body justs out from a swirling portal in the sky.

"You think we'd let you get away with that golden quirk? The things we could do with you..." Manic joy oozes out in the form of a grotesque smile. Chapped lips wide enough to be seen from beneath a large hand.

"Let. Go." His tone is primal as he speaks, coming to his feet as you're yanked to your own.

"Oh I didn't realize you had company golden goose." For once fear stays with you as it curls into your muscles, your bones. The grip on your throat tightens as your heart hammers in your chest.

This is it, this would be the last time you ever saw him. Your last opportunity to ever say all the things you needed to fucking say after being so ignorantly oblivious to his actions.

To his heart.

Things begin to go in slow motion, watching him obliterate the roof beneath his feet, fingers outstretched for you as that damn emotion plasters openly on his face.

Fear twits into rage on his features.

But all you can do is smile, wholeheartedly smile as you look at him.

Tears of mixed feelings blur your vision as you say the one thing you so desperately needed to say to him.

"Thank you, Katsuki-kun. Thank you."

Just as he is within arms reach the portal swallows you whole closing as quickly as it opened.

Leaving Bakugou Katsuki to fall onto his hands and knees, slamming popping firsts into shingles that turn into sharp confetti all the while fat droplets fall from angry cheeks.

#bnha bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha angst

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Dance Freely, Love (Joe Toye x Reader)

a/n- another one of my random ideas, thanks @radiantcade​ for motivating me to do this, what would i do without you??

once again, im procrastinating on the long fanfic by writing shorter ones. oops

Description- You wake up to see a note that your long-time boyfriend has left for you on a drawer. After reading it, it’s contents leave you heartbroken. Time passes by and word gets by of your boyfriend in the hospital. You decide to visit him. Tears and fufilled promises ensue.

Words- 4.9k (i was intending for it to be short but... i got carried away??)

Warnings- angst, angst, angst, but there’s fluff tho 

Angst with happy ending, love those-

btw listen to these songs while reading this:

The End of the Word- https://youtu.be/xHa6a3FtPJg

It’s Been a Long, Long Time- https://youtu.be/iP0tHmoc1rs

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The sun beams peek through the gap of your white curtains, shielding your (E/C) from their brightness. That was what you found strange. 

Usually Joe would wake up earlier than you and he’d open the curtains right after he woke up and got up from your comfy bed. So when you’d open your eyes, the light would just be as gleaming and bright as Joe’s smile. 

Maybe finally he listened to you and decided to give your eyes a rest. You groggily stretched your body, the blankets falling off your shoulders dropping slowly towards your lap. 

Stiff arms raise up and a content groan leaves your lips as you stretch them out. Those tired arms then reach up to rub at your eyes and you feel a yawn creeping by.

You then make your way off the bed, slightly disappointed by the loss of warmth those covers provided you with. After your eyesight was clear, you hobbled your way around the room while putting on your slippers.

You walked up to a small table with a record player, something you and Joe were lucky to have. You pulled out a disc and set the record player up. Soon enough, you and Joe’s favorite music to slow dance to plays. 

It soothed your muscles and you could almost fall asleep again if you tried hard enough. You bopped your head up and down and hummed softly to the melody. There was a slight bounce in your step as the song kept playing and a tiny grin was on your face.

After a few moments of swaying along to the music you noticed the absence of the handsome, dark-haired man you called your boyfriend.

“Joe…”

Your tired, breathy voice rang throughout your shared bedroom, but no voice rang back.

You assumed it might’ve been one of those rare days where Joe went the extra mile to make breakfast. 

But once again, there was no waft of food or smoke reaching your nose.

“...Joe…?” 

The question was asked louder, but no response. The tweeting of the birds felt deafening in the quiet house, and the soothing voice of your lover wasn’t heard at all. You still stood at the foot of your bed, slightly dazed and confused as to where Joe was.

You opened the door to your bedroom and quickly made your way throughout the house to look for him. You fail to see the crisp, white note laying quietly on your dresser and waiting to be read. 

The faint thumping your footsteps echoed throughout the house, and he was nowhere to be found. 

You even went as far to go to the attic(which you absolutely hated going into ever since Joe said that it was haunted). You rushed through each room, opening the door roughly before slamming it back shut once you saw that he wasn’t there.

You sped along, your speed rivaling that of light’s. You even caught yourself lifting up one of the cushions of the sofa.

When you returned to the room you were a panting mess, and you were sure that you checked every inch of the house at least 7 times while calling out his name and telling him to cut the joke.

Your search was futile and you walked groggily up the wooden stairs so you can lie down on your bed. (S/C) hands gingerly turn the doorknob and you amble your way slowly to the comfy bed. 

You heave a sigh as you plop yourself into the mattress, your head nestled between the pillows and the still-tousled blanket. Your head turns and your eyes land on the piece of paper resting flat against the wooden surface of the dresser.

You were suddenly alert and your body shot up in the blink of an eye. You swear that you hadn’t seen this note before. For someone who apparently checked the house from top-to-bottom, you were sure pretty blind.

You put your legs up on the bed, and you leaned over to reach the mysterious note. You leaned back and scooted up until your back was flush against the fluffy pillows. 

The folded paper was opened to reveal the familiar and neat handwriting of your love. Your eyes lit up in recognition. Your eyes skimmed over the word-filled page before actually deciding to read it the ink.

“Dear (Y/N),

I hope you read this letter with a clear mind and heart, for I am truly sorry for doing this to you. (Y/N), I am so sorry for leaving you like this.

 I planned to tell you the night before, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the news after seeing you so happy last night. I couldn’t do that to myself, and especially you. 

Before you can say that I should have told you, please try to understand that this way is the best way. It’s the best option and I think it would also be the one that hurt you the less.

 (Y/N), please know that I have good intentions and that I really don’t mean to bring you harm in any way, shape, or form.

Your tear-stained face would’ve broken me and I am slightly glad that I would not be there to see your reaction. I couldn’t live with that. 

(Y/N), I promise you only a few things:

1. I will return to you, no matter how injured I am.

2. When I do return, the first thing I will do is to scoop you up into my arms.

3. I will give you the best kisses that you’ve ever dreamed of.

4. I will make the best goddamn dinner that has ever existed.

5. We will dance, and dance to that record we always play until the night slowly fades into day, and I promise you, that I still wouldn’t be stopping.

6. I will always, and forever love you.

(Y/N), please know that this would've happened someday, and that again, this is the best option for both of us. After this war, I SWEAR, that I will do everything I put on that list of promises. 

You have my word and heart, (Y/N). I love you. I love you very much…  Please let me see your face when I return.

Love,

Your ever loving boyfriend, Joe”

Streams of salty tears were unknowingly rushing out of your eyes like mini waterfalls. You only started to feel them when you slowly brought your fingers to your face. 

The wet sensation against your fingertips brought you back to reality, and you only started sobbing louder. You talked to him about it, of course, but you just thought…You just thought that maybe, just maybe, he would’ve given you a head’s up.

Of course you knew he was going to fight the war, but not like this. This would be the last thing you expected. Sobs, whimpers, and whispers of his name fell out of your lips. The trembling never stopping.

You quickly put your lip between your teeth to stop any more sounds from coming out, but the action was futile. Your fists clenched the now flimsy piece of paper, crumpling the edges and almost ripping the sides of the papers off.

The sounds of your tears plopping against the paper didn’t bring you back from your tear-filled stupor. The whimpering didn’t stop and you looked down to your lap to read the paper once again, just to make sure that you weren’t, in fact, dreaming.

Your red and already swollen (E/C) eyes glance down at the paper only to see that your tears have smudged and already washed some of the words. The once legible words were  reduced to only a small puddle of black ink. 

The tears in your eyes stopped for a brief moment before they started streaming down your red cheeks and down your throat. A small, wet stain formed at top of your blouse, the never-ending river of your woe soaking it more and more.

You were still as you could be, only light tremors shook your body as you sniffed and whimpered some more. Your throat ached, your mouth was parched, and your eyes lost tears to cry a long time ago.

The aching of your legs made your whole lower body feel numb and you soon felt how sore your face felt. Your fingers begged to be unfurled, the joints already crying out in mercy, but you couldn’t care less. 

Crescent moon shapes were indented against the soft skin of your palm, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Hiccups now filled the air, but you were still glued to that very same spot you had ages ago. 

Your tired body slowly leaned forward until your forehead and wet cheeks touched the cold sheets of your bed.  Soft whimpers were muffled and your hand clutched and pulled the once neat and pristine piece of paper towards your chest. 

Wet ink was transferred onto your blouse, and the damp fabric stuck to your feverish skin without a hitch. Everything hurt. Eyes, nose, throat, back, fingers, thighs, toes, and your heart. 

Oh, especially your heart. It felt like it’s been cut, torn, and smashed into oblivion. Like it was whipped and the wounds had salt poured on them. Then it was burned, chewed up, and run over by 4 dozen cars. Then the whole process repeated again and again.

The pain was agonizing, and you would do anything to make it stop for even just a second. That was all you could focus on. You still didn’t get it. 

Nothing made sense to you at the moment and you had the overwhelming urge to destroy everything around you. To rip that damned piece of paper that brought you this pain in the first place. 

As anger and many more emotions coursed through you, you stopped to look at the piece of paper for the tenth time this hour. Your hardened glare turned into a loving look after your (E/C) eyes looked at the words ‘I love you’.

Tears threatened to burst through your sensitive eyes but your ability to produce tears ran out forever ago. So instead, you raised your fist to pound it against the mattress. 

You tried to let out a scream but no sound came out. The dull sound consumed your head and you stopped shortly. You felt so vulnerable. So utterly helpless without him.

You never even got to say goodbye. To kiss him lovingly, to hug him with all your strength, and to say infinite declarations of love. If you'd known that last night was the final night that you would see him, you would’ve never have let him go and never stopped saying your adoration in his ear.

If you missed him this much already, how were you to act without him for years? How were you to react if he never came back? You forcefully diverted yourself from thinking that, you would be better if you don’t think of that.

Just when you thought you can now fully function, scenes of Joe bleeding out from a shot or shrapnel wound prevented you from doing so. Your parted lips stretched to a frown and you gripped your head between your hands, your fingers digging themselves deep into your scalp.

What have you done to deserve this? Why was this happening to you?

Why you? 

Why Joe?

Painful questions mixed with past memories of happy times between you and Joe swirled around in your head. You thought that focusing on the joyful memories you had together but that made things worse, for they reminded you of the things you will surely miss.

Exhaustion and fatigue glide over you and you start to realize the ache of every muscle in your body. For now, all you desired was to close you red and swollen (E/C) and to float away to dreamland.

You didn’t care if it was only the afternoon, the day’s previous events left you spent and wanting to rest.You prayed that you didn’t have any dreams of him, your fragile heart couldn’t take anymore. It had enough in just a few hours.

Your sore and weak body raised itself up from it’s bent position, some of your backbones cracking at the action. You released a shaky sigh as your back hit the mattress, your throbbing head feeling only just a tiny bit relaxed as it hit the cloud-like pillows. 

The lingering scent of his shampoo and soap on the pillow covers and blankets hugged you tightly, almost suffocating you. It was overwhelming, but you decided to relish one of the few things he actually left behind.

The bedroom blurred around you, black spots appearing in your vision as your eyelids drooped down.You curled up into a fetal position, face almost buried in the pillows. Your nose was clogged and almost silent sniffles were all you could offer.

The faint sound of the record player lulling you to sleep by the second as you let it play its tune.

You clutched the letter in your hand towards your chest like earlier. You were holding on to it like your life depended on it(your life didn’t but your heart sure did).

Before blacking out you wished that maybe this dream would provide temporary comfort, that maybe you’d forget about Joe and his leave. Perhaps, you might get it all of your head in just one sleep. But you knew it didn’t work like that.

Nothing did.

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You really didn’t know how you continued to live your life without Joe by your side. How you missed his jokes, gentle touch, tender kisses, and bone-crushing yet loving hugs throughout the day.

Sometimes you could still hear his voice calling out so sweetly to you. The way your name rolled so right on his tongue. It really drove you wild. On other days, you would open your mouth to respond to him but the reality falls down on you like a pile of bricks. You would hurriedly shut your mouth and a deep frown etches itself on your face.

It’s been years since he left for the army without a word. The only thing he left for you was that letter. The now crumpled piece of paper containing Joe’s words was placed on top of the dresser, where it previously was. 

Even though you couldn’t read the words anymore, you cherished and hated it all at the same time. The day after you cried and sobbed your heart out, you decided to send him letters.

Letters saying how you felt, how life was without him, and letters pleading for him to come back to you. Each letter had bucketfuls of your love and care put into them.

You’d even go as far as to buy the now rare chocolate candies. You saved every penny just to buy a piece. Then you’d carefully wrap them in small squares of parchment paper and taping the ends to make a little make-shift present.

You’d carefully press the paper and tuck it carefully into the envelope, sealing it when you were done.Then your eyes would well up as you held it in your shaking, (S/C) hands. 

Tender kisses were pressed into every surface of the envelope before you’d send it away. You never really got anything back though.  Hours were spent looking outside your window or going out to check your mailbox.

There was nothing, but you never gave up.

So you kept sending him letters, assuring yourself that he’ll reply to at least one of them. You grew tired of waiting, but you were ever so hopeful, thinking that this would be the day he’d respond.

Or maybe the next, or the day after that. Perhaps maybe a week after that one. Wishful thinking never got you anywhere, but it sure helped you in your broken state. 

The clanging sound of the metal mailbox outside your home shutting grew redundant. But you still waited for something. Your cheerful smiles faded by the day and you were again reminded of how he just left you.

It even got to the point where even your neighbors started noticing and taking notice of your melancholy behavior. It has been weeks since you sent out your most recent letter and, once again, no response or word of your boyfriend.

You were completely left in the dark as to how he was doing. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was alive or not. You stopped sending him letters after the 12th or 13th one.  You knew it was a lost cause and you gave up on it.

There would be moments where rage and bitterness bubbled inside you, but that was washed away by feelings of sadness, regret, and guilt. Sometimes you would find yourself crying in the middle of the hallway, but you would have no recollection whatsoever of you tearing up.

The sobbing just found its way to you, no matter what you were doing. You would be fine and the next moment you would clutch your head while seated on the tiled, kitchen floor with your back against the wooden cupboards, the river slowly streaming again.

You thought you could live without him, that you would be better off anyway. You were wrong. Very wrong. How many times have you wailed his name loudly during the night?

How many times have you clutched the ruined letter against your palms and chest? Just how many? Frustration welled within every part of your being and it grew tiring. You hated it.

You hated everything in this situation.

Why couldn’t Joe just tell you ahead of time? Anything would’ve been better than this. You didn’t know how his mind worked when he wrote you that letter, when it said that this was the best way.

It was anything but.

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

The deep pit of your stomach fell instantaneously when the name of your boyfriend fell from your neighbor’s lips. Your mind was blank, still trying to comprehend their words.

Sputters and incomplete sentences left your mouth as you questioned them for more details. You didn't know how you felt after one of your neighbors had told you the news of Joe being in a hospital.

How come they knew before you did?

Your fists clenched at your sides before they gripped the hem of your skirt, the loose fabric soon feeling uncomfortable in your (S/C) hands. It all felt like a fever dream and you just assumed that none of this was even happening. It couldn’t be.

Wide, (E/C) eyes stared into the distance, not really focusing on the words and presence of your neighbor. A loud voice called out of your name and your dazed eyes and head snapped to your neighbor, a worried expression plastered on their face.

Your feet were glued to the ground and you switched between looking at the ground and your neighbor’s face. The sounds of your heavy breathing were all you could hear. You could see the shadow of your neighbor inching closer towards your still body.

“(Y/N)... Are you alright, dear?”

“I- I’m… I’m fine. Just…” A stagnant pause rang throughout the air, and you were brought back by a steady hand resting on your shoulder.

“Surprised?” Your neighbor completed your thought for you, a questioning and worried tone lacing their voice.

“A little more than that.”

A dry chuckle left your lips as a feeble attempt to loosen the tense atmosphere.  Questions like the ones that appeared on the day he left arose, making an unwelcome cameo in your brain.

The feeling of shock rushed through like a bolt of literal lightning. Fire burned your nerves and you were you looked stupid with your mouth gaping so big.

You had no words except a thanks to your neighbor before rushing back to your house, quickly opening the door and locking it before slowly walking over to the nearest seat.

You fell onto the cushion immediately, leaning forward with your head in the clutches of your hands. You were very relieved. You finally got to know how he was doing. You finally got to know that he was actually alive and not another body resting on the open field.

What you were experiencing was indescribable. It was a mysterious amalgamation of intense and soft emotions, all rolled up into one. But Joe’s alive…That was all you were thankful for.

He’s alive and you were going to pay him a visit.

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So that’s where you found yourself…Standing in front of the pale white door that served as a temporary barrier between you and the man you still loved after all of these years. You fumbled with your skirt, bunching up the fabric in your hands and causing them to wrinkle.

A few good minutes were spent in the hallway as you mouthed the words you were going to say to him. Another couple of minutes were spent mentally preparing yourself. 

You rubbed your temples raw and rubbed your forearms at least 20 times in only just a few seconds.Your knuckles gently yet firmly tapped against the wood, the thumping sound of your skin hitting wood was brief and slightly muffled. 

Your breathing stopped and you definitely knew that your breath was caught in your throat. Seconds felt like forever in this situation and you slowly let your raised arm drop to your sides.  Your body was practically tense and stiff, almost resembling the door in front of you.

“Come in…”

As if time stopped itself, you found yourself staying still once again. Your palms flew to your lips to stop you from crying right then and there. You collected yourself before it all hit you. He sounded so broken… It wasn’t like him at all.

There were no signs of the man you once knew. It reminded you of yourself when you broke down after reading his little note. Who would've known that a tiny piece of paper could ruin your life…

Shaking fingers reached for the brass doorknob and you turned it slowly. Anticipation was everywhere and you opened the door to enter his room. Lo and behold, there he was.

Joe Toye.

You haven’t seen him for four and a half years. It’s been so long since you actually saw him in person. Your (E/C) eyes ran over his body. He still looked the same- Soft and dark locks of hair were the same.

His wide dark brown eyes held surprise and love in them drew you in. His skin was paler than you remember, plus the addition of a few scars and wounds. Your eyes zoomed back to his face, and he looked just as surprised as you. 

“(Y/N)...?”

“Who else would it be, Joe?”

“I don’t get it, why are you here…? All of the sudden and out of the blue…” 

But you could tell that as soon as he saw you, his tone of voice got quieter. More gentle. And more loving.

The soft sounds of your footsteps against the polished wooden floors were loud and replaced the silence that ensued. You sat, the mattress dipping from your weight.

Tears suddenly erupted from your eyes, the feeling already too familiar with you. Joe immediately sprang up to wrap his arms around you. As he sat up, you failed to notice the slight wince he let out. Words left his lips to console you.

“(Y/N)- Babe… It’s alright, i’m here now.”

Sobs wracked your whole body, and you would shake in his embrace.

“Why Joe? Why did you do that to me? It’s been years Joe… Years. Can you believe that.”

Joe ran his hands up and down the small of your back, offering you slight comfort as you wailed words into his neck.

“I- I just couldn’t let myself see your face if I told you… You have to understand that it’d be worse if I actually told you-”

“But it hurt more, Joe… It hurt so much more…” 

The soft rubbing on your back slowed and stopped after a few moments. Joe let your words sink slowly into him, the way you said it embedding itself into his mind, and his brain played it over and over again.

His brown eyes were close to tears, feeling too watery. Joe turns his head to look at your face. How he missed you so. If only he knew how much pain he caused you.

A comfortable silence covered the room, and you two remained in each other’s arms, an occasional sniffle or word would be heard. Joe’s fingers twirled locks of your hair, and regret pooled in his stomach as he imagined your tear-stricken face after reading the letter.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry (Y/N).”

He dove down to bury his face in the side of your neck, his tears leaving a cool feeling against your skin. It was your turn to comfort him, and you wrapped your arms around him tighter, trying to make him feel more secure.

“How could you ever forgive me… How could- How could you ever forgive me for this… For what I did to you..”

“Joe… I already have.”

His shut eyes opened and he pulled away from the tender embrace you both shared. His eyes locked onto yours and his lips parted in shock.

“Why…? After all this?”

“Because I love you, Joe… I love you so much…”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

Your eyes were still locked, and you could see how his eyes would quickly drift over to your lips. A soft smile blossomed on your face as you sniffled. Your smile fell as you remembered the nurse’s words.

“I heard about what happened, Joe… To your leg… I’m so sorry…”

“(Y/N), hey… I’m fine now remember. I’m alive.”

“But Joe-”

“And don’t apologize… It wasn’t your fault.”

You quieted down, and the comfortable silence took over once again. The sun was slowly setting as you could see from the windows. The mellow atmosphere calmed both you and Joe significantly.

Joe suddenly pulled you against his chest, and he hummed a song into your ear. The familiar tune of your favorite song greeted you, and your eyes lit up in response. Joe rubbed your upper arms slowly as you two swayed slowly to the tune.

You found yourself humming along slowly, your humming complimenting his. The end of the song came and you hummed the final note while looking into his eyes.

“(Y/N)?”

“Mm?”

“Do you still remember those promises I wrote to you?”

“Of course, how could I forget? What about them?”

“I intend on fulfilling at least one today…”

Joe’s eyes scanned and looked deeply into your eyes for approval. You consented with a slight nod of your head and that was all it took for him to kiss you. You have waited for so long, but his kiss made all  of it worth it. The two of you did anything to deepen the kiss just a bit more. It was passionate and so full of want. 

It completely encapsulated what both of you wanted ever since the war started. Fleeting touches exchanged during the kiss were replaced with intense ones. Your fists grabbing at his hair and him doing the same.

One of your hands reaches over to push him more against you and one of his grabs the collar of your blouse to pull you towards him.You were left breathless after the kiss, your hair was slightly disheveled and both of your faces flushed and feeling warm. 

Joe was gasping for air and he couldn’t get enough as your swollen lips were practically calling out to be kissed again. After a few moments of kissing and fond touches, you leaned your head on his broad shoulder, hand stroking his chest.

Your eyes drifted down to his blanket covered lower half and you stared at where his leg used to be. His eyes soften as he catches you looking. Joe’s mouth opens to ask you something but you beat him to it.

"So I guess we're not having that dance, huh?"

That was the first thing that came to your mind. 

There was undoubtedly a hint of sadness as you thought of what could have been. You were slightly disappointed and sad, but you couldn’t have been more glad to have Joe right here with you right now.

Melancholy thoughts were interrupted by Joe’s hearty chuckle. He pulls you into his lap, making you straddle him. Joe’s hands brush any stray hairs in the way of your face and his fingers gently brush a few locks of your (H/C) hair behind your ear.

A soft peck was placed on your lips, and a smile was brought back on your face, a flush also deciding to make an appearance. Joe’s warm eyes examine your features and he places his much bigger hands on your hips to keep you steady.

Another tender peck was felt, now on your cheek. Joe pulls away, his eyes cherishing the very sight of you. Joe flashes you bright, gleaming smile and it was accompanied by a few of his chuckles before he responded.

“Bullshit... Of course we're still having that dance."

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

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ahhhh im finally finished with one of my fics-

hope you enjoy this one loves 💕💕💕💕

btw loves, its like 1 am here and im woa-

btw sorry for any mistakes i was tired-

#band of brothers #band of brothers fic #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers imagine #joe toye #joseph toye #joe toye fic #joe toye fanfic #joe toye fanfiction #joe toye imagine #joe toye drabble #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #hbo war imagine #hbo war request #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #joseph toye x reader

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 3: Roberta

• The Gay Divorcee was a smash hit, raking in almost $600k in profit for RKO during the Depression. It was also nominated for Best Picture. So then why are Astaire and Rogers not the headliners for Roberta? No clue. 

• As dumb as that decision was and is, in some ways, it makes their parts even more enjoyable. As the secondary pair, they don’t have to deal with misunderstandings and contrived plot devices keeping them apart or interfering with the development of their relationship. From the moment they’re on screen together, they’re a pair. 

• Their romance in Roberta is of two teenage sweethearts reuniting as adults and instantly falling back in step and in love with one another. The warmth and friendliness of their relationship, which I believe mirrors the true relationship between Astaire and Rogers in many ways, is one of the main reasons I adore this film. There are several scenes/moments where they seem to be themselves and it works perfectly.

• Our characters/actors: Huck (Fred Astaire), Lizzie (Ginger Rogers), John (Randolph Scott), Stephanie (Irene Dunne).

• Love their names in this film: Huck (short for Huckleberry) and Liz. A vast improvement, especially for Rogers who has so far been Honey and Mimi. 

• Of course for plot reasons Huck’s teenage sweetheart will be in the exact same place he ends up. But it’s worth noting that he requests for John to ask his aunt about Lizzie. He intends to look her up himself. 

• Could John be a himbo?? He’s handsome, kinda dumb, but very kind. 

• I like how Liz, in her alter ego as a Polish countess, continues throwing a tantrum even though John pushes her to the couch twice. Rogers doesn’t get enough credit for her slapstick abilities. She also somehow makes the word “orchestra” seem very suggestive.

• Love how Huck slides in towards the elevator in his hast to meet Lizzie again. She’s not mad to see him either, only worried he’ll blow her cover. Which he immediately almost does. 

• A snarky reunion: 

Liz, as the Countess: “Huck is for Huckleberry, n’est-ce pas?”

Huck: “Uhh yes, a couple of n’est-ce pas.”

• His face at being called a piccolo player is only bested by Liz’s barely concealed glee at Huck being demoted this way. In their first interaction, he calls her babe, toots, and playfully bites her hand and she puffs smoke right in his face. I love it. 

Not for nothing, later in the film he will also call John babe and toots. Huck is an equal opportunity complimenter. 

• Their relationship is established immediately as he celebrates her success and beauty. There’s no rivalry or obstacles between them, not even her stage name. While she is careful to remove her hand from between his when their private moment is interrupted, she doesn’t mind it being known she’s going off somewhere with him. 

• Irene Dunne has a fine singing voice but it’s just not what I came to this movie to hear. 

• Huck’s face as he watches Liz sing is adorable. Maybe a tad overdone but incredibly sweet. 

(gif credit @themaladjustedjester​)

• It’s a bit irritating that Rogers is forced to sing and speak in her fake Polish accent for most of the film but dang she does an amazing job with this song. It’s a full-body performance and she does it with gusto. 

• I adore the way Astaire tosses the baton over his shoulder as soon as she comes to sit with him. He’s just like, don’t need that anymore. 

• So cute as they reminisce about their younger years: 

Liz: “You know I think I was in love with you then, Huck.” 

Huck: “I know you were.”

Liz, mildly offended: “Youuuu.”

Huck: “Meeee. And what’s more, I was madly in love with you.”

• Their entire exchange is funny and wonderful. The teasing, the flirting, the declaration of past love for one another that is obviously still true. How he punctuates certain moments with a bit of tap for emphasis. They smile naturally and it feels like two friends talking. This could be AU Fred and Ginger’s real-life story and I would believe it. 

• Talking about how she won a beauty contest:

Liz: “Well, you won it for me. How did you get all the men from the overall factory to vote for me?”

Huck, very pleased with himself: “That was easy. I showed them a picture of Lillian Russell.”

Liz, incensed: “Lillian Russell? Well what was the matter with my picture?”

Huck: “Well if you must know, we got a lot of votes from the farmers with a picture of a prize heifer.”

Liz, about to playfully sock him: “Oh youuuu.”

• “I’ll Be Hard to Handle” is a special dance for many reasons including that the taps were not dubbed over later. Since they used the original sound, we can hear both Astaire and Rogers giggling and whooping throughout the dance. 

Usually, Astaire recorded the taps in post-production since the sound could not pick them up very well during filming. Hermes Pan, Astaire’s choreography partner, often recorded Rogers’ taps since she was typically off filming a different movie by then.

• Astaire often gets a lot of the credit for their dancing because he worked tirelessly on the choreography. Rogers was often away filming non-musical roles while he did this. She was in three other films in 1935 alone, in addition to both Roberta and Top Hat with Astaire. But she put in a lot of hard work too. While filming those other roles, she learned the choreography from Pan so when she showed up for the six weeks of rehearsal, she was prepared. 

• And somehow this number feels perfectly spontaneous. At the start, as he pulls her in, she looks at him flirtatiously and it’s not acting. She waits for him to come spin them around and of course it’s part of the choreography but it’s a lovely feeling of anticipation all the same. Several times they appear lost in their own world, dancing for one another. They also seem to be talking to one another quietly throughout most of the dance. Like before in their films, you can see the acting start and stop pretty clearly. 

• When one of them does a little extra dance, the other watches in true appreciation and delight. Again, not acting. Most instances where they make eye contact they look very pleased with themselves. This is the closest we’ll ever get to seeing what Astaire and Rogers were like in rehearsals, complete with the in-joke bugle call. 

• To understand better the moments of reality vs. acting, just look at the sequence where they challenge each other and argue using different dance steps. All acting. Then look at their faces immediately after this sequence ends and they enter the final moments of the dance. All them. 

Side note: don’t miss how Astaire claps his hands together to make the smacking noise when she slaps him.

• While watching a private fashion show, John and Huck dislike a gorgeous black satin gown that’s low cut and with an almost completely open back because they think it’s too revealing. But later Rogers is going to wear almost this same gown and will look marvelous in it during the “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” dance. 

• After selecting a new gown, Liz teases Huck that “tall, handsome gentleman with large bank accounts will be asking for my telephone number. And getting it.” He replies, “And won’t they be surprised when I answer?”

• Upon hearing that John’s terrible ex, who has just arrived to undump him now that he’s rich and famous, will be leaving on Saturday, Huck departs with this line: “Goodbye, John. I’ll see you Sunday.”

• Irene Dunne definitely enjoys her few seconds of being spun around with Astaire. But who wouldn’t?

• Huck’s line to Sophie, “Gee, darling, you look terrible,” is such a burn and I love it.

• Another thing I have a soft spot for is Astaire’s piano playing. It’s energetic and fun and he doesn’t do it nearly enough imo. 

• Astaire sings 3 songs (I’m not counting the fashion show “song”) in Roberta but they all have that very conversational style that suits him. And in fact both “I Won’t Dance” and “Lovely to Look At” are duets framed as a conversation with Rogers. My favorite part of “I Won’t Dance” is this exchange:

Astaire: “You know what? You’re lovely.”

Rogers: “And so what? I’m lovely.”

Astaire: “But oh what you do to me.”

• I also have to mention the little callback to “The Continental” as well as the strange rhyme of “for heaven rest us, I’m not asbestos”??

• Notice how this solo routine for Astaire is not interrupted by any cuts to his face or feet like previously solos? He got his way with the camera work.

• “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” is a lovely song that I don’t necessarily want Irene Dunne to sing, not when Ginger Rogers is in the same film. 

• Rogers’ acting when Huck talks rhetorically about wanting to marry Liz is fabulous. First, she has to be incensed at the mention of a “Liz” when publicly she’s still known as the Countess. Then she’s flustered that he’s just admitted he wants to marry her. And then she glares at him when he takes up the joke and describes his fiance-to-be as “simple” with “big feet.” And all of that happens in about three seconds. The way she sharply looks him up and down always makes me snicker.  

• This lengthy fashion show is something else I usually skip. Was there a line of gowns that were sold as movie tie-in merchandise? I highly doubt it. But why else is this so long??

• When Astaire sings the lyrics “and heaven to kiss,” his voice drops and Rogers glances at him. Huck and Liz have most certainly been kissing off screen. 

• Absolutely love how the lyrics of “Lovely to Look At” change for Astaire and Rogers. Instead of a “most impossible scheme come true, imagine finding a dream like you,” Rogers sings that he is her “most impossible dream come true, imagine finding a boy like you.” She takes his arm and on the lyrics “it’s thrilling to hold you terribly tight,” he squeezes her hand. 

• Their dance, set to “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” is slow and stunning, one of the most beautiful they created. It’s full of soft looks between them. Rogers spends most of the beginning gazing at him lovingly. Not to be outdone, Astaire does the same when she’s turned away or not looking at him. He also has a small, private smile soon after they begin. It’s lovely. 

• The duet is romantic and yet they don’t embrace fully until about a minute in. Instead, they hover near one another, faces angling together, small touches here and there. Holding fingertips for a particular move. His fingers briefly touch her ribs when she places his hand there for a beat. It’s a dance of deep partnership and love, not courtship. Neither needs to woo the other. 

• And when they do embrace, he holds her close for a prolonged moment before moving into the next step. As he does, that private smile sneaks out again. 

• The sudden dip is another example of Rogers trusting Astaire. She looks magnificent in the pose too. They both do.

• She lays her head on his shoulder, his hand resting gently on her hair, and her arm is around him. It’s a very intimate pose, made even more so by how he tilts his head towards her and his lips are very close to her brow. And there again, that smile. 

• When the music becomes playful, Rogers glances over her shoulder at him and finds his eyes are already on her. Both of their faces soften. 

• And ending a sumptuous dance with a backwards leap up three stairs. Super casual. They walk off the way they began, their arms linked. 

• Speaking of casual, Huck and Liz get engaged in the most laid back way ever. Perfect for them.

• I have always loved Stephanie’s expression when she realizes just how dumb (but sweet) John is. 

• The reprise of “I Won’t Dance” ends the film. Newly engaged but still in the same clothes they just performed a slow, romantic duet in, Astaire and Rogers perform a much more energetic dance. She makes her dress work for her superbly. The way they dance is very like “I’ll Be Hard to Handle,” which shows that this celebratory number is Huck and Liz, not the bandleader and the Countess performing for a crowd. And the choice of song is fitting since in the lyrics he said he couldn’t dance with her for fear he’d fall in love with her. But now they have danced quite intimately and they’re engaged. Might as well keeping dancing together. 

• Soooo another film finished! We’re getting into some of the best ones now. Up next: Top Hat.

• Also if fanfiction is your thing, here’s a very sweet one for this film. 

#fred astaire #ginger rogers #roberta #classic hollywood #old hollywood #astaire and rogers rewatch #fred and ginger #y'all have got me making gifs now for this #and by y'all i mean my own perfectionism and obsession

[marshmallow-phd]

Midnight Hours

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Summary: For you, being a good witch was easier said than done. Something dark was lurking inside of you and the others knew it. When you’re forced to tag along with Soomi and help a local wolfpack face a coming evil, you’re sent on a path that breaks into a crossroads. While you struggle with your inner demons, could the wolf Sehun be the key to your ultimate fate?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I 17 I Final

**

You swallowed thickly. This was exactly what the mothers feared: you losing control. And being found out by others. Would the pack kick you out now? Would they fear you? Hate you? Nothing else seemed like a better idea in that moment than to simply disappear like the smoke from the still smoldering floor.

But you were stuck there in that room, with countless pairs of eyes staring at you with emotions that ranged from curiosity to confusion to fear.

“It was just an accident,” Soomi insisted, coming to your rescue when you still couldn’t find the words. She rushed over to your side, crouching down and putting her hands on your shoulders in a protective manner.

“An accident?” Kris scowled. His eyes flickered over to the circular burn pattern around the bed. “This looks a little precise to be an accident.”

“Soomi, is this one of the powers you were talking about?” Junmyeon asked suddenly. Your eyes went wide as you whirled around to face the one person who you thought would never tell. It was against her character to go against the wishes of the coven.

Soomi looked at you with guilt. “Someone had to know, in case something like this happened,” she explained. To Junmyeon, she nodded. “But this has never happened before. Not in her sleep.”

“Wait, so (y/n) made the fire?” Jongdae exclaimed. “While sleeping?”

“That is both terrifying and impressive,” Baekhyun commented.

“Wait,” Tao looked at the others frantically, never letting his gaze settle on you, most likely out of a small amount of fear, “so what exactly can she do?”

Soomi answered for you, which made you feel relieved that you didn’t have to speak up. You were still in shock from the fire… and the vision. “(y/n) was born with the ability to manipulate the elements. It’s rare among witches and… it’s not the easiest thing to control.”

Kris looked over at Junmyeon. “Don’t you think that you should have shared that with the rest of us, especially since she’s staying in our house? With Mei?”

“She would never hurt any of us,” Junmyeon defended. You were thankful that at least one of the alphas was on your side. Even if you actually tried, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to support yourself properly.

“I wouldn’t exactly call her powers ‘under control’,” Kris spat back.

Soomi shook her head, her protective grip on your shoulders tightening. “They’ve never surged like this before. A splash of water here and there and-”

“Splash of water?” Baekhyun’s eyes grew wide along with a mischievous smile. “Was that you at the restaurant?”

“The restaurant?” Soomi looked to you. “What happened at the restaurant?”

Everyone was staring, waiting for answers. Some you had, some you didn’t. The pressure and the tension brought you back to when you were just a child, brought before the mothers of the coven, the first time your powers manifested.

Fire. It was always fire. The first time had terrified you. It wasn’t obvious – in your eyes, at least – that it had been you to cause the candle flames to surge and grow until Mother Cypress’ ceiling caught fire as well. It was put out before any true damage could be done, thankfully, but it didn’t end there. The other kids had pointed to you as the culprit. You didn’t understand. All you had done was cry and yell. Ronin had stolen your favorite stuffed animal and refused to tell you where he’d hidden it. Next thing you knew everyone was running and screaming because of the candles. Not too long after, the mothers had figured out just how different you were.

And here you were again, surrounded by accusatory stares mixed in with fear of the unknown. What else could you do besides jump to your feet and run out the door? In your mind, there was no other option. And no one stopped you. Several of the wolves even jumped out of the way, perhaps scared that you’d set them aflame if they didn’t.

Outside, the unexpected chilly air stabbed at the exposed skin of your arms and legs. Almost immediately, your teeth started to chatter. It seemed the weather was finally saying goodbye to the last bit of summer and fully transitioning into fall. Which went the blood moon was getting closer as well. Even with the heavy cover of clouds in the sky, you could still see the faded orange of the sun rising. It was morning already.

Too cold to go any further, you sat down in the dewy grass, the water adding to your icy state. But you didn’t move. Part of you hoped that maybe you would simply freeze over in that spot, a permanent statue that no longer had to deal with the cards life had handed you on the day of your birth. Burying your face in your knees, you willed the water around you to come over you and solidify in an attempt to become that statue. As per usual, your so-called “power” ignored what you wanted. They only seemed to want to cause chaos instead of obeying your orders.

Was that their true purpose? Were they really meant for chaos? The mothers had tried to keep you on the road of light magic, of good, but what if you simply weren’t made for it? What if your destiny was to take the other path and all this effort was simply prolonging the inevitable? Could that be what the visions had been trying to tell you all along?

Something warm suddenly fell onto your shoulders, causing you to flinch. In a glance you saw an oversized jacket now covered you as protection from the cold. The owner of the clothing item stood in front of you, his hand out as if waiting for you to take it.

“Come on,” Sehun said softly.

You pulled your arms in tighter to your chest in defiance. “I’m not going back inside.”

“I’m not taking you back inside,” he countered. The fact that he continued to be unfazed by your snappy attitude was not lost on you. But he already knew, didn’t he? He already knew about your powers. Even so, you were a bit amazed that he wasn’t keeping his distance after witnessing the extent of what you were capable of.  “Just trust me.”

Somehow, those three little words did it. Without even hesitating, you took his still outstretched hand and let him pull you up to your feet. In that motion, however, the jacket slide off your shoulders, exposing you to the cold once again. Before it could fall to the ground and become covered in water, rendering it useless, Sehun snatched it from the air.

“Here.” He adjusted the jacket in his hands and then slide one of your arms into the sleeves like a child. But you didn’t fight him or slide in some comment about being able to do it yourself. You let him wrap you up in the warmth that smelled like him, even biting back a smile as he zipped it up nearly to your chin. Satisfied with his work, he grabbed your hand and said, “Let’s go.”

It was a slow walk towards the woods west of the farmhouse. You’d never gone this way before so your mind was reeling with the possibilities of your destination. Though he wasn’t speeding ahead, Sehun seemed to be walking with purpose, giving you somewhat of a hint that this wasn’t an aimless stroll.

After ten minutes or so, the trees began to thin again, revealing a second, man-made clearing. Three different structures were in varying stages of construction on the property. The largest one resembled the bare bones of a house, only the wooden beams that would hold up the walls to dictate where the rooms were going to be were built.

“This is our second home,” Sehun explained. “The farmhouse is getting too crowded, so Junmyeon started this a month ago or so. The space might be nice, but I like having all of us together.” The sadness in his voice was evident and you squeezed his fingers in an effort to comfort him. This whole time he’d kept a protective grip on your hand and still, he didn’t let go. You didn’t want him to, either. The warmth passing back and forth through your palms was the only thing keeping you upright, stopping you from crumbling away.

Over and over, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t fall in the same trap that Soomi did. You wouldn’t fall for a wolf that clearly wasn’t yours.

But you wanted him to be.

You wanted to lean your forehead against his shoulder, eyes closed, and take him in. Everything about him calmed you down and sped you up at the same time. Your heart was racing, but your mind was at ease. Could he feel how hard the blood was pumping through your veins? Did he feel the same way?

The sudden panic of getting too close surged up in your stomach. You tried to step away, put space again between the two of you and free your fingers from their wanted cage, but he didn’t let you. He wasn’t holding them hostage in a grip that would turn the tips of your fingers white, but he did hold firm, conveying his wish to keep you beside him without uttering a word.

Still remaining silent, Sehun tugged you along to get closer to the construction site. He ignored the yellow caution tape to bring you almost to the center of the house. If you let your imagination run, you could almost picture the painted walls, the kitchen, the living room, all of it really, with you in the middle of it. It almost made you laugh; how could this empty, shell of a building feel like… home?

“I’ve been coming here a lot lately,” Sehun randomly confessed as he let you go. He took a few steps until he came to a foundation beam, holding onto it with one hand and leaning back. His gaze was up at the sky as if he were searching for words to say or an answer to a dilemma that had been haunting him. “Just for some quiet or think things through, it doesn’t matter. No one else comes here. They don’t care since it’s not finished. I almost don’t want them to finish it. I don’t know where I’d go after that.”

You were a little put out by his tangent since you thought him bringing you here was about making you feel better, but on the other hand… it was doing a decent job of getting your mind away from that dark place. Was that his real intention? Helping by pretending to not be helping?

Shrugging away the lack of answer to your riddle, you stepped up to the same pole Sehun was pulling on and leaned up against it with the corner pushing into your shoulder. You stared up at the orange-haired wolf until he tore his eyes away from the sky to meet your own.

“The forest is big,” you told him. “I’m sure you’ll find another hiding spot.”

Sehun inhaled deeply through his nose, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it out slowly through his lips. “Maybe I should stop hiding.”

There it was again. That electricity in the air that charged up every time he started to lean in. His eyes flickered back and forth from your gaze to your lips in debate. The difference this time around was the fact that it didn’t feel teasing or restrained. It was charged, serious.

“What are you hiding from?” you asked in a voice so soft it couldn’t even be deemed a whisper. It was merely breath leaving your lungs and yet the words were understood.

But Sehun ignored your question, leaning in at an agonizingly sluggish pace. You felt your own calves raise you up to shorten the time it would take for him to reach you. Then you felt the first drop land on your cheek. Looking up at sky, you found the clouds had thickened once again and were releasing the water that was now too heavy to continue carrying.

Drip… drip… drip… drip, drip, drip.

Faster and faster it came down, no roof up above to save you from the pouring rain. Sehun cursed under his breath and grabbed your hand, making a run for the trees that hardly created an adequate cover as the two of you hurried back to the farmhouse. By the time the two of you stumbled into the kitchen through the back door, you were soaked.

“(y/n), oh, my god!” Soomi rushed up to you, cupping your face in her hands as she inspected your current state.

Junmyeon sighed in relief. “Thanks for finding her, Sehun.”

You raised an eyebrow at the wolf after he didn’t correct the alpha’s phrasing. He hadn’t found you, he was the reason you were out in the rain in first place. Now he was practically on the other side of the kitchen. As soon as you were inside, he’d let go of your hand, making you feel colder than ever. You were hurt by how quickly he’d flipped the switch, how easy it was for him to create distance after coming in so close.

“Let’s get you changed out of those clothes,” Soomi said, pulling you out of the feelings that were currently drowning you. She led you towards the stairs, not slowing down even as you kept looking over your shoulder back at Sehun, who was whispering some story to his alpha that you couldn’t interpret.

Instead of going towards the bedroom, however, Soomi steered you towards the bathroom once arriving on the second floor. She started the shower and let the water warm up as she helped you strip out of the ruined clothes. You stared silently at the black jacket that had gotten the worst of it. Pools of rain water formed on the tiles where it lied. If only you could melt away like the water.  

“Go on and get in,” Soomi ordered. “I’ll put some clean clothes on the counter for you and then… well, then come downstairs. We all need to talk.”

Fantastic.

Alone in that shower, you contemplated the consequences of never getting out again. Your skin would wrinkle and shrivel, maybe even dry out from the heat of the water. Eventually the hot water would run out and nothing but cold water would be spitting out of the old showerhead.  Soomi would get worried and barge her way back in, pulling you out if need be. Or worse… she’d enlist the help of the other mates or even a wolf.

Now that hiding in the shower was ruled out as an option, you decided to stop being a coward and face the trial that would be waiting for you downstairs. You knew you would have to tell them about the dream – the very realistic dream you were sure was much more than a manifestation of your REM-induced brain. You were still drying your hair with a towel when you came down the steps. Everyone was in the kitchen, as to be expected. Sehun had also changed into dry clothes and was seemingly avoiding any chance to even peek in your direction.

“I swear, I think we’ve had more family meetings in the past year than we have since the pack formed,” Baekhyun grumbled. You shrank back in your spot, knowing a lot of them were most likely because of you. Was there any way you could make it back up the steps without being noticed? No, probably not.

“It’s important that we all know what’s going on,” Yixing reminded him.

“I’m kind of curious about the fire,” Minseok asked very pointedly.

“(y/n)?”

You didn’t want to look at the kind alpha, but you could feel everyone waiting for your response, so you lifted your chin, barely glancing at him. “Yeah?”

“Do you know what- what caused your powers to… surge like that?”

You swallowed thickly. The words came out in a scared, squeaky voice that you hardly recognized as your own. “I, um, I had another… vision.”

“A vision?” Soomi gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There wasn’t exactly a good second to do so,” you pointed out.

“What was the vision?” Kris questioned.

“I was in that clearing again.” Him, you absolutely refused to look in the eye. By the time you were through here your cuticles were going to be nonexistent thanks to that nervous habit. “The woman was there, too, but she was behind me. I still didn’t see her face.”

Junmyeon waited a moment for you continue. When you didn’t, he asked. “What were you doing?”

“She was… urging me to use my power,” you whispered. “Fire, to be exact. Using it in the vision must have triggered something to make it happen in real life.”

“What were you doing with the woman?” Jongin’s question was meant innocently, from what you could tell by his tone, but it set off a domino effect of panic.

“What were you doing there?” Baekhyun emphasized in an accusatory voice.

“It sounded like you were on her side,” Jongdae added. While the accusation stung, you didn’t blame him for thinking down that way.  

Chanyeol pouted like a kicked puppy at you. “You wouldn’t join her, would you?”

“I bet they’ve been working together this whole time.”

“If that were true, why would she tells us about this?”

“To make herself look innocent after setting the house on fire.”

“That’s a solid plan.”

“She can’t stay here. What if she loses control again?”

“Or sets the house on fire on purpose?” 

Louder and louder the voices grew, intersecting and overlapping until you could no longer tell what argument was coming from which wolf. A small select few still seemed to believe in your innocence, but most were deeming you untrustworthy.

“ENOUGH!”

You flinched at Junmyeon’s outburst. You’d seen him frustrated and agitated, but you’d never seen him lose his temper in this fashion. His jaw was set, teeth grinding against each other while his glare roamed over his pack.

“The fact that any of you would think for a second that (y/n) was plotting against us….” He shook his head. “I’m disappointed in all of you.”

“But they had good points, Junmyeon,” Kris argued. “And we must always put the pack first.”

Junmyeon scoffed. “So, what do you want to do? Throw them out?”

Kris shrugged. “It really might be best if they don’t stay here anymore. We can’t be completely sure that this won’t happen again. And next time, it could be worse.”

“But what about the woman? (y/n)’s visions?”

“They’re not constant. If she has one, then they can come over and describe it to us,” Yixing said. Guilt was apparent when he looked at you, but he quickly ended the contact, squeezing Ming’s hand protectively.

Junmyeon opened his mouth to argue, but eventually closed it again. His shoulders slumped, admitting defeat.

“You can’t just kick them out!” Sehun shouted.

“I don’t have a choice, Sehun.” The alpha was breaking. His voice wasn’t as strong as it had been a few seconds ago. He was going back on his promise to Mother Willow to protect you and Soomi and it was killing him to do so. You didn’t understand how any of them could be okay with seeing their leader this way. “I have to put the pack first. Always.”

A roar ripped through the air that made everyone jump.

“She is part of the pack!”

Sehun marched over to you, taking ahold of your wrist and pulling you into his side. With an expression that was scaring even you, he made a declaration that you wouldn’t have been prepared for in a thousand years.

“She’s my mate.”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #sehun x reader #oh sehun #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #untamed wolf universe #Midnight Hours

[rebelcap]

We are not just friends —Part 8

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a people of color, she's brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy, lots of fucking (eventually)

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally.

Series masterlist

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7

It's been a couple of days and Sofía finally had the time to Skype with Mandy.

“Works going great, today's been kind of long. Been interviewing a bunch of people to the assistant gig.” Sofía spoke to the computer resting on the middle of the bed, she was pointing it towards the mirror where Sofía was brushing her hair.

“That's awesome baby, don't work too hard though,” Mandy said eating an apple. “Where's Chris?”

“He had some meetings or something—” She shrugged looking back at Mandy who had her eyebrows up, lips puckering. she was waiting. “Okay, yes we did it, we had sex.”

She actually claps like a child. “I want details, bitch,” Mandy said and Sofía laugh

"I had never been fucked that deep on my life and I've been around the block,” Sofia said biting her lip. “And he's… dominant and tender. I don't know.” She waves a hand and shrugged.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mandy said putting a hand on her chest. “It's like me with Luke, no one can fuck me as he fucks me. I totally get it—so, you guys dating now?”

“What? no.” Sofía shakes her head.

“You haven't talked about it yet?”

“A little, the other day after you helped him ambush me on the bar. But I don't know, I like him that's for sure and he likes me.”

“Well, that's a start—finally, it was like a fucking pregnancy with you two.” She laughs.

“But we're not dating, just… fucking, he's still my friend.” she shrugged

“And Chris is okay with it?”

“Why not? we were speaking that he had sex with his ex and regretted the whole thing, but I don't know, I'm convenient for him"

“And he told you that?”

“No, But—

“I don't think Chris, Chris I know thinks you're convenient.”

“But I am, I'm cool with that—I don't want anything else,” Sofía said, sitting cross-legged in front of the computer, now paying attention to her friend.

“But why not? Sof. he's not some idiot you've founded on tinder—”

“I've used tinder once!”

“That leads to the most lengthy relationship you've had—on your life!” Mandy said.

Sofía rolled her eyes. “yeah and that worked out so good, Tiffany leave me with fucking PTSD—And your point?”

“Is that I think Chris is the one you've been waiting for your whole life.” She speaks and Sofía frown. “I remember what we talked about when we were younger before shit went down—you know.”

“Yeah, I remember… I was seventeen and still a virgin. I didn't even realize that I liked women too.”

“Yeah, that doesn't matter—I mean I'm glad that you're out and proud not the point—but Isn't Chris all that you ever wanted in someone?”

“Why are you making a telenovela out of this?, I already told you—”

“I think he's great for you and you deserve great—I mean there's no men worthy of you but Chris is pretty close,” Mandy spoke as she walked on the apartment back in Boston. “I'm not telling you now, but maybe there's a future with him.”

“I don't know—how're things back there?” Sofia had abruptly change subjects and Mandy stares her through the computer.

“It's good, I miss you—”

“I miss you too, baby.”

“—no one cooks for me here and I had been back at home and mom and dad also miss you. And Ian has a crush on you.”

“Your baby bro?, He's eighteen!.” She raised her eyebrows.

“He's been asking about you a lot. When's Sofi coming?, Sofi this and Sofi that.” Mandy laughed. “It's kind of endearing.”

“Yes, he's cute maybe in a few—

“Shut the fuck up, no way in fucking hell your—Ewww!” Mandy screamed and shake her head making Sofía laugh.

“I'm fucking with you—” She smiled and her phone started ringing, it was Chris. “And speaking of.” Sofia smile showing her the phone.

“Oh, don't let me get in the way!” Mandy said and blow her a kiss and ended the call after saying goodbye.

“Hey!” She smiles letting herself fall on the bed.

“Hi baby, just gets home—I've been on the studio all day.” He said. He sounded tired, she could tell.

“You sound tired, have you eaten yet?”

“I am, dead tired.” He yawns over the phone.

“Not yet, I'm ordering something though—wanna come over? I might have a huge bag of weed.” He laughed.

“Hell yes.” She said laughing. “I'll bring some pizza, go take a shower and relax—I'll be there in a little bit,” Sofía said already getting out of bed.

“You're the best!, I'll leave the door unlocked, just get it.”

“Alright, see you on a bit.”

_____________

“Chris?” Sofia called, locking the door behind her as she walked to the empty-looking house. Dodger came running from the back to greet her. “Hey baby, where's daddy?” She asked him as he moves his tail all over. When she reached the living room he was sprawled on the couch, phone resting on his chest.

“Awh,” Sofia said putting the two pizzas on the coffee table and slide her backpack off and kneel beside him and kissed his beard. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

Chris's eyes fluffer open and his smile got to bashful that Sofia had to sigh deeply. He was so handsome, with those bright blue eyes.

“My sofi–” He spoke grabbing her from the waist and pulled her on top of him and slide his hand under her dress, sliding his hands up and down her ass.

“You tired, champ?”

“Not of this ass.” He nipped at her neck and then kissed her. “I'm hungry though, that pizza is getting me.” Chris swat at her ass and she laughs.

“Let's eat, uhm?”

Chris scooted her again and seat her beside him on the couch. They sat there as Sofia surf through Netflix trying to catch a movie.

“You do something tomorrow?” Chris asked taking another bite of his pizza.

“Nope, I mean nothing job-related.”

“Mm, I've got a birthday party. You interested?”

“Yes. free food, especially cake.” She quickly agreed, Chris snort. “who's the birthday?”

“A friend, you'll see.”

Sofía cranked her neck up from his shoulder and squinted his eyes at him. “Why you'll being all mysterious and shit?”

Chris laughed, taking a sip of his beer and shrugged.

“It's not Brad, isn't it?” She frowns.

“Why?”

“I don't like him very much.”

Chris frown, giving her one stare to elaborate on that, and Sofía sigh. “He cornered me on the kitchen and asked me if you and I were fucking, so he knows I'm off-limits. He asked me out and was kind of surprised when I said no.”

Chris pursed his lips and looked forward. “Fucking asshole. We're not really close, he's usually hanging with us, he's no longer welcome.”

Sofía bite her pizza and looked at him, not gonna lie she liked that… possessiveness on Chris even though she won't admit it. Leaving the half-eaten pizza there, she grabbed her beer and took a few gulps.

“You finish that?” She asked and Chris looked at her, throwing the pizza on the coffee table and grabbed the beer from her hand, and she giggles putting biting her nail.

“Sure as hell did.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in, straddle him. Chris looked down at her bare legs as he caresses them, up and down, and then put both of his hands on her ass and squeeze it. Camila looked down and grabbed the joint Chris had previously rolled and a lighter.

“Want to?” She said putting the joint between her lips and Chris hummed at him.

Sofia light it up, throwing the lighter back at the table and took a deep drag, hold it for a moment, and put the joint on Chris's mouth.

“Fuck—” She looked up, blowing the smoke. “So good.”

“Yeah,” He blew the smoke, hand gripping her jaw, his fingers playing with her bottom lip and she opened her mouth and he slipped two fingers inside, closing her lips around them she sucked, tongue dragging up the bottom. Chris slide then out and wrap his fingers around her neck and pulled her in for a heated kiss “You've got no idea what you do to me.”

“I do,” She smiles, lazily, and press herself more against his clothed dick. “Feels so good.”

“I do,” She smiles, lazily, and press herself more against his clothed dick. “Feels so good.”

“Fuck, it does.” Chris closed his eyes, leaning his head against her chest as she started to move her hips, oh so slowly. Grabbing the joint from his fingers, she gave it another go, already feeling light and dazed.

“You're so fucking… cute,” She bit her lips while smiling cupping Chris's face. “Your eyes are so beautiful and blue and your lashes—I want them.”

Chris blushed and Sofía squeezes his face planting kisses on his forehead, his nose, and their lips.

“–Then,” She said. Putting the joint between her lips and grabbed the end of his shirt and took it off, revealing his toned body. “That. all of it—fuck. me.”

“I'm trying—” Chris chuckle, now he gave it the final drag and leave the joint on the ashtray on the table. Grabbing Sofia’s face, she opened her mouth and shotgun the smoke into her mouth.

“I'm so high, that's some good shit right there.” She hides her face on the creak of his neck and laughs, making him laugh.

“It is,” He hummed, closing his eyes as he concentrates on the butterfly kisses on his neck, she suddenly wrapped her arms around here and they just stayed there. Chris's hand kept caressing her back.

“Sofi?” He said, trying to look at her face but her soft breathing, arms going limp. Chris chuckle as he stands up, she still on his arms and carried her to the bed and tuck her in.

“Chris?” She said, barely audible as she hugged her own pillow.

“Yes? baby.” He said. Taking off his shirt and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes.

“You're my best friend, I love you.” She expressed, Chris craned his neck to see her. Eyes still closed, mouth slightly open.

“I love you too, Sof.”

“Cool.” She hummed. “I love Mandy more, she first.”

Chris let out a heartfelt laugh and slide in bed with her and scoot her to sleep on his chest and she accommodated quickly.

“Sorry about your boner.” She slurred, smiling a bit when Chris laughed again. “The fuck I've smoke?”

“It's a strand I use to relax, I've used it for a while now.”

“Relax me the fuck right, I can't open my eyes.” She gulped. “Imma drools on you, so you know.”

He laughs. “Droll me, I'll take it.”

~~

Thank everyone, so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Tag list.

Tag list:

@letsdothemonstermash

@lunaticbarnes

@firstangeldragonranch

@lovepeacefood

@thegirlwithpaperheart

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x latina! #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fluff #Chris Evans x you #Chris Evans x y/n #Chris Evans fic #Chris Evans imagine #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character

[less--beans]

lihn asks: 2, 9, 14, 19, 20, 22, 27, 28, 39, 40, 47

2. Fav scenes?

can i just say the whole musical? i really want to just say the whole musical. i’ll not mention any scenes with songs, bc that’s a whole other thing, but i’ll pick a few (i said a few but it’s a lot more than that, i’m very sorry) top scenes. i’m pretty sure most ppl answer this with like 3 scenes but i’ve never been very good at picking so here, have 10. i’m going to make a list bc if i just put it all in a paragraph it would be way too long. 

-i love sheila and susannah’s first actual conversation. it’s funny how nervous and awkward susannah is, and how many questions she asks and weird things she says. i love how sheila just rolls with it, answering her questions and ignoring the weirdness. francis’ little interludes are funny and it makes my heart melt when sheila goes ‘but in the good way,’ especially after seeing that susannah believes francis and everyone else when they tell her she’s weird in the bad way, and i can’t help but die when i remember that sheila is probably the first person who saw how weird susannah was and didn’t insult her or act like it was a bad thing but instead just rolled with it. 

-it’s a short scene but i love when they’re teaching susannah how to smoke and she visualizes francis being torn apart. it’s the funniest thing. so short and yet so good. 

-another short yet awesome scene is right before the other one, when sheila spends a solid 20-30 seconds just staring at susannah and listening to her write songs. very gay. also, in the same scene, sheila listing what she likes and then adding that susannah’s interests weren’t too bad either. her acting like she usually does and just kind of putting down the other person’s interests a little before letting her walls drop and acknowledging susannah as a person was amazing. again with the walls dropped thing is her respecting susannah’s boundaries and not demanding to know who the letter was from. we love character growth. 

-yet another short scene is right before oh well when sheila’s kind of teasing her about the morse code thing and being like ‘you’re obsessed.’ it was hilarious. and then it kind of clicked in their heads with the nonsense syllables and the secret code and it was like they were finally on the same wave length. it was very very sweet. 

- i loved the scene where sheila got taken to solitary. phenomenal acting. my heart broke. i’ve watched it so many times and i love looking at various reactions of the girls (judith being victorious, sheila being hurt and scared and angry, dorothy in shock and still trying to comfort others, ya-ya collasping, kitty being angry and disappointed, rat just watching concerned and scared from the sidelines) as it all goes down. it’s painful and it was such a different ending to act 1 than i thought would happen just two minutes prior, and it’s a majorly emotional scene. 

-in the beginning of act 2, she’s like ‘no, this is my fault!’ and all the girls just agree with her, and then judith tells the history of harriet. i did not see her backstory coming at all. that part made me physically sick and very horrified. i didn’t necessarily like that scene, but i respect it bc of the acting, and the effect it had on me is proof that it was good. also, when kitty comes from judith and reveals that sheila took out her eye? that was the second huge revelation in the same scene and i had to pause it to process. plus, that was a sick burn. go kitty.

-the scene with kitty and susannah before masochist!! powerful, emotional, had me in tears. I adore kitty so much. some real stuff was said there, and i, as someone who is part of the lgbtq+ community, was really affected by that scene. also masochist, but again, we’re not going into songs right now. that’s a whole other thing. 

-i died when the music was building up and susannah was on the steps and she was giving her whole rousing speech and she finally admitted that she loved sheila. the music stopped, susannah stopped, my heart stopped, and the girls gave a wonderfully funny fake gasp. the girls’ reactions in that scene were impeccable and so hilarious to me, and there’s of course the fact that susannah, after stumbling over her words and feelings the entire show, finally admitted out loud that she loved sheila. not only that, but she did it in front of everyone. very big character growth, plus the growth of my heart as it swelled and burst in my chest. i loved it. 

-the transition of judith being like ‘there’s no way she just thinks the plumbing sucks’ to sheila loudly complaining about her hatred of the sucky plumbing was perfect. also, i can’t watch sheila’s slow realization of what’s happening without laughing. she’s such an idiot and i love her. her slamming her head into the pillow and slowly raising it up again as it sinks in? comedic genius. just the parallels of susannah being like ‘she’ll figure it out soon’ at the exact same moment sheila figures it out is amazing. judith going ‘i will happily eat my own sh-’ and then being cut off by sheila knocking back was hilarious, and kitty’s ‘do you want fries with that judith?’ was so iconic. 

-them being like ‘how are we going to do this??’ in the middle of the song and everything going dark and quiet for a few seconds other than that sign of ‘four minutes and 38 seconds later’ before going ‘that’s a great plan’ was so freaking funny. we’re going to skip the moment where sheila and susannah reunite for now bc i’m probably going to make another post about it and this post is already so long. also, i love how they outlined the plan as they put it into action. it was poetic cinema. perfect execution of one of my fav tropes and i really enjoyed it. 

9. Fav lighting moments?

I love the beginning transition where the lights flash and show the silhouettes of the girls, it’s so powerful. I also love the emphasis the lighting gives when it changes in the pre-reprise of teenage delinquent and also in susannah’s song reprise (basically whenever everything stops and susannah has a gay moment). the lights shining through the smoke to give the illusion of fire? amazing. that was exactly what the scene needed to take it from incredible to literal perfection. on that note, i liked the ghostly feel the lights gave as they shone through the windows once the girls were outside. lastly, i loved the lights in the end of teenage delinquent. that was a very emotional moment and the lights just added to it. 

14. A major(s) character you love?

I love sheila a lot. she’s so tough and yet so sweet. i first met her and i was kind of worried about if she was going to be one of the stereotypical mean tough girls, but she managed to be strong and kind, and it’s amazing. i love how she’s a little aloof and yet totally willing to take down anyone who hurts the people she cares about. she fights asp, buzz, and even judith, all bc they hurt her family. plus, that girl’s been through a lot. i’ve made a few other posts just based on what i got from the three failed escape attempts but i really feel sad for her and all that she’s been through. 

19. Fav (pre)reprise?

So we obviously have the oh well reprise when susannah is delivering the esp to sheila and that’s such an amazing one that always gets me. i’ve cried a lot at that scene. sheila smiling and trying to hide it while half-heartedly trying to get susannah to stop playing by warning her that she would get in trouble... ugh. my heart. another one that i really like, however, is when sheila and susannah first met. the pre-reprise of teenage delinquent gets me almost as much as the oh well reprise does. it’s so short, only a few lines, but we see susannah immediately fall for her. it’s so sweet and it sets everything up so perfectly, and i especially love the percussion. in the last line the drums kick in and crescendo and it’s just a masterpiece. 

20. Headcanon(s) for what happens before the show?

i’m very sorry to announce that i forgot who the creator of this (if anyone knows please message me!) but some created this amazing timeline. it’s phenomenal. i’ve pretty much accepted everything on that list as canon. 

22. Headcanon(s) for what happens between Teenage Delinquent and Finale?

judith definitely became a chill therapist. 100%. she keeps in touch with ya-ya and they try to arrange meetings every now and then. sometimes they see certain plays together. ya-ya went to hollywood with dorothy. she made it big in special effects, and dorothy prefers to act in smaller gigs in underground places. ya-ya helps out with dorothy’s plays sometimes. they share an apartment together. sometimes dorothy sees rat in the audience of her shows. she doesn’t question how rat knew where she’d be performing and she doesn’t question the money and cigarettes that are pushed into her hands after. she also doesn’t question it if rat ever shows up in need to stay for a few days. it happens every few months, and dorothy just makes sure there’s good food in the house and slips some money into rat’s things when she’s sleeping. kitty keeps in touch with susannah, and she attends all of susannah’s performances she can. susannah goes on tour with her band, and she could’ve sworn in their tour in hollywood she saw three familiar faces in the crowd. she’ll never know for sure though. sheila stays in mexico for a while before deciding to go back to the states. she doesn’t know what happened to francis. at the border she told him he was lucky she didn’t kill him and left on his bike, never to see him again. she traveled around the us with that bike, eventually deciding to visit hollywood. she saw a familiar name in an underground club and immediately went to the next showing available, watching with barely held back tears as dorothy starred in a play. she saw rat in the audience and ya-ya’s name credited in special effects, and she had to leave at intermission to keep herself together. she wasn’t sure how to approach them or what she would do or say, so she took off that night to keep the temptation away. she went all the way across the country to nyc, figuring it was about time she visited some old friends from mexico. she walked into a record shop to ask for directions and caught a thief stealing from the store a few minutes later. she walked in to return the record.

27. Teenage Delinquent or Revolution Song?

how am i supposed to choose?? from the moment i heard teenage delinquent pre-reprise i loved both versions. it’s such a pretty tune, and it’s so meaningful, and the emotion in it is so powerful. it makes me cry every time, and the end... wow. they’re gay and in love and i get very emotional about it. i absolutely love teenage delinquent. revolution song, however, was one of the first ones i ever heard and probably the one that made me watch the show. it’s so energetic and so great, and i cannot listen to it without wanting to start my own rebellion and take down some terrible patriarchal system. it’s constantly in my head and it’s so catchy and fun. plus, i love watching it in the show, and the girls throwing things and burning down the building is one of my fav things. i love both of these songs so much and i physically can’t choose which one is my favorite. 

28. Something you like/have noticed about the show that you haven’t seen anyone else mention yet?

both of these things are only briefly mentioned in the show but i’ve still never seen anyone talk about them. this show takes place over the span of only 17 days (excluding the finale, obviously). in the beginning, when susannah had just arrived, asp got the call about the interview and she mentioned it being in 17 days. a lot happened in 17 days, especially since they were locked up for 8 of them. all of the events of act 1 took place over 9 days at most, and probably less, bc we know sheila didn’t respond right away in solitary and we’re not sure of how much time passed until she did. that feels like such a short time span to me. another thing is that they’re on the fifth floor. i don’t know why this stood out to me, but it’s probably something to do with the fire. they would have lit the fire and gotten out really quickly. i feel like imagining them on the first or second floor is different than imagining them on the fifth floor for some reason, and i just felt like pointing it out. 

39. What got you interested in LIHN?

I was bored in between classes and so i watched a random youtube video of musical clips. there were three clips of lihn in there, and they interested me enough that i watched the entire musical a few days later. i immediately fell in love and i’ve watched it almost every day since. 

40. What does LIHN mean to you?

love in hate nation means so much to me. i absolutely love this show. there’s so much to think about and so much to build on. musicals are amazing bc there’s choreography and lighting and lyrics and sets and so many things with hundreds of little hidden messages, and deciphering potential meanings for those messages is so fun. this show is no different. there’s so many things to analyse, and it’s such a good show that i want to analyse everything about it. i can’t put into words how much i love this show. just know it’s a lot.

47. A single wish for the future of the show?

it says a single wish, but i have three, so i’m going to list them all. if i could only have one it would for sure be the first one. first and foremost, i want a cast album. goodness gracious, i want a cast album. so bad. second, i really want this to get to broadway. more people need to know about this show. it’s so good and it’s worth everything. i want this to get big. third, i believe joe posted something about a potential proshoot? i could be wrong but that would be amazing to have.

my grammar is terrible and this is so much longer than it should’ve been, so i’m sorry about that. thank you so much for asking!! it was really fun to answer these. if anyone wants to ask more questions, the link to the asks is here

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 1

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something's rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won't rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic's top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Spoilers: Forged Alliances. SWTOR Lost Suns and Annihilation. Some things in the Vanilla storyline, including the Revan flashpoints. Author’s Notes: Out of necessity, parts of this story will contain scenes from the game itself. Whenever possible I’ve tried to rewrite them so that they hopefully remain fresh and interesting, while still retaining the essence of the scene itself (so hopefully it doesn’t feel like you’re reading a transcript). This one is also going to be a bit slow to start, but it’s going to be a long one.

Crossposted to AO3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

When the Supreme Commander of Republic Forces called — it was generally a good idea to answer. Even if he just so happened to be your father.

However, this was official business, so Theron Shan decided to ignore that fact as he strode into the large office located in one of the corners of the Senate towers. The receptionist had waved him through without any fuss this time around.

Perhaps she had gotten used to him at this point — she hadn’t even glared at him this time. He supposed that was progress. It was nothing he had done, of course, just a bit of guilt-by-association. She and Marcus Trant, the Director of Republic’s Strategic Information Services had gotten quite chummy a little while back, but alas, she was not to become the third women to hold the title of “Mrs. Trant”. Easy come, easy go as the saying went.

Come to think of it, maybe the lack of glares this time around had more to do with the fact that Trant hadn’t accompanied Theron. It was a mystery for another time, though, as his gaze fell on the figure seated behind the desk in the center of the room. 

Jace Malcom was an extraordinarily tall man, he towered over Theron by at least a foot or so, and between the height, his deep gravelly voice, and the gruesome scars crisscrossing his face, the man could come off a little imposing. Theron wasn’t easily intimidated though, and he had a… unique situation with Jace. — considering the fact that the man was his father. Biologically at least, or… whatever.

It was complicated.

Theron hadn’t even known who Jace was, outside of his military record that was, until they’d met during the mission to take out the Ascendant Spear. Their first real meeting as father and son hadn’t exactly gone well, it was awkward, Theron had just wanted to leave, and most of their interactions outside of a professional setting had just been a bit like that. On the job, they were good. Despite popular opinion, Theron could take orders (when they made sense),  and off the clock they… well, they were trying to settle into something resembling familiarity. The “father-son bonding sessions” were thankfully few and far between. Theron liked Jace well enough, and they certainly got along better than he and his mother, but it wasn’t exactly like they were going to go out and throw the gravball around any time soon.

However, this meeting request had come through official channels, so thankfully that probably meant things would be less awkward and weird. At least he hoped.

Theron cleared his throat, pulling the older man’s attention away from the datapad he was reviewing. Seeing his visitor, some of the deep lines on Jace’s face smoothed into a smile. “Ah, Theron, you’re early.”

“Traffic wasn’t as bad as I was expecting.” He folded his arms in an effort to look casual. “Trant had a Senate briefing, so you get me instead.”

“That’s all right, I was hoping you’d be here for this. We can loop the director in later.”

“Your message was a bit vague,” he said, “just that you had some intel you wanted to discuss?”

Jace nodded. “One of my men came to me with something he picked up in the field — regarding Korriban. And a way we might be able to strike back.”

Theron’s eyebrows shot up. “Hitting Korriban? You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” The elder man looked at him grimly. “This all started on Korriban, it would be fitting for us to start the death knell for the Empire there.”

Korriban had been one of Jace’s first stations, and where he had met the future Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Satele Shan — who just so happened to be Theron’s mother. Theron shifted the weight of his feet, a habit he’d unfortunately picked up in these conversations when the subject of his mother came up, even indirectly as it was now. He hated having a tell, even something so minor and with someone like Jace who while sharp, probably hadn’t picked up on it.

A change of subject from ancient history back to the present was probably in order — and a lot more comfortable. So Theron addressed the deeper issue at hand. “SIS has been trying to get a mole on Korriban for years, and everyone we’ve tried to embed there winds up dead. That place is a death trap.”

“I’m not asking anyone to go undercover,” Jace assured him. “I’m thinking more smash and grab. But before that, I want you to look over this intel and let me know if you think it’s viable.”

“Me?”

“You were the one who cracked how to take out the Ascendant Spear — if anyone can do the same with Korriban, it’s you.”

It was a high compliment, and genuinely based on his skillset, rather than a form of nepotism. After their success against the Ascendent Spear, Theron had been tapped as a resource more and more for Malcom’s office. It had kept him out of the field more than he liked, but the tangible results of his work on the overall war was satisfying in its own way.

“That seems simple enough,” Theron said, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Any reason for all of the cloak and dagger?”

“Considering the target I don’t want to take any chances. I want someone I can trust taking point on this.”

Theron couldn’t quite decipher the look on Jace’s face, but nodded a thanks all the same. It was… odd having someone be so complimentary and open about that kind of thing. Trant’s usual way of expressing gratitude was a cutting sarcastic remark. Which he was fine with — it was familiar. Easy. But the mark of a good spy was adapting to the situation at hand.

Even if that meant a little bit of inadvertent father-son bonding.

Jace handed over a small data chip. The fact that he wasn’t trusting any of this on any network channel spoke volumes about the need for discretion.

“I’ll look this over and get you an answer as soon as possible.”

That seemed to satisfy Jace, but as Theron made his way out of the office and out into the streets, he was unsettled. The reason for that feeling wasn’t readily apparent, but hopefully once he had a chance to dig into the data he’d figure it out. He tended to trust his gut on these things, but a chance to strike as rich of a target as this was too good to pass up on a mere bad feeling alone.

The more he dug into the intel that Jace had given him, the more Theron had to admit that the Supreme Commander was right. A strike on Korriban not only seemed viable, but had the potential to yield invaluable information that could finally lead to an end to the war.

A Jedi named Jensyn had come away from an encounter with an apprentice to a member from the Dark Council, revealing that they had databanks in their main chambers with some of the inner-most secrets to the Empire. A literal goldmine of information that could turn every future battle and operation to the Republic’s favor. It was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up, and so Theron kept digging. Every intelligence report surrounding the encounter checked out, and just because he liked being paranoid, Theron looked into the Jedi too. The man had served aboard the Telos in its campaign in the Albarrio and Relgim sectors, and had an exemplary service record. The closest thing he found to a red flag was the copious amount tea Jensyn liked to consume.  

As far as Theron could tell, the intel seemed clean.

That just left the minor problem of storming Siths’ the inner-keep. Just getting on the ground would have been an issue, except that apparently a SpecOps commander named Rian Darok had found a gap in the patrols on Korriban. It wasn’t a large one, and they’d never be able to launch a full-scale assault… but a strike team could make it through and perform an extraction.

Theron filled a large mug to the brim with caf, settled into the most comfortable chair he could find at SIS Headquarters, and got to work mining everything they had on Korriban. He had to cobble the data together from a variety of sources to even get a close picture if it could be done. They had old schematics of the ground layout, but due to the age he had to cross-reference it with a report from an escaped acolyte to confirm the probable obstacles facing a strike team on their route from the landing zone into the Academy. This, coupled with bits and pieces of security information scraped from the almost-defunct Imperial intelligence, yielded an access point for someone on the ground that could allow a talented slicer to insert an exploit. It was technically doable, but the resistance the ground team would face stacked the deck against the op’s favor.

“Viable but a logistical nightmare” was how he summarized it to Jace and Marcus the next morning, gratefully accepting the giant mug of caf the Supreme Commander had ready for him the moment he walked in the door.

“Pay up,” Marcus said, and Jace grudgingly handed over a credit chip.

Theron narrowed his eyes at the both of them suspiciously over the rim of his mug. “And what was that for?”

“Just how quickly you’d go for caffeine,” Marcus said casually.

Theron fixed his boss with a glare before taking a very long drag of the zippy brew. Apparently being Supreme Commander came with some perks, because if the spy wasn’t mistaken, this was the more expensive Alsakan Mountain roast. The director just shook his head and turned to the datapad with all the findings, letting out a low whistle at the potential yield if the operation was successful. As both of the older men perused the data, Theron barely suppressed a yawn. The all-nighter had come at the tail end of an op, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was probably needing at least a few hours of sleep.

“You could have taken two days to look at all this,” Jace said lightly, “but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“Intel can go stale quick.” Theron shrugged off the paternal concern easily.

“All the reason to act quickly,” Jace said, “if Trant can spare you for a little bit.”

“Please, take him. Much less of a headache for me.”

“I’m really feeling the love here,” the agent muttered.

“You’d feel more if you turned your expense reports on time.”

“You have to get a thrill somehow since you’re not out in the field anymore,” Theron shot back easily. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You see what I have to deal with?” Marcus pointed the question at Jace, who just shook his head.

“Well, I’m happy for the loan, Marcus,” he said, turning the subject back to the matter at hand. “I can see how logistics can get sticky, but I think I’ve got someone who can help with that. Colonel Darok has a knack for this kind of thing.”

Having spotted the hole in the patrol route, Theron had to admit the man had a keen eye. 

“You’d need a small army just to get through that many Sith. No way to get that many troops in,” Theron pointed out. “I don’t even see how even a master tactician is going to navigate that. ”

“What about a small strike team?” Marcus asked.

“Might work, but they’d need to have hides of durasteel.”

Jace looked thoughtful for a moment, before he headed over to his desk and pulled up a few dossiers on a datapad. He paged through a few, before handing it over to Theron. “Have you ever heard of the Coruscant Aegis?”

“Never met them personally,” Theron paused to take another sip from his mug before continuing, “but one of them provided cover fire on an extraction for me once.”

Marcus snorted, apparently remembering the incident in question. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”

“I needed to make a hasty exit, and the lady was kind enough to clear a path. At least I think it was a lady—there was a lot of blaster fire. Pretty sure she called me insane.”

“That sounds about right.” Marcus heaved the heavy sigh of the wearied soul.

“I suppose I owe whoever it was some thanks,” Theron said. “Probably wouldn’t have made it out without the assist. Some nice flying and shooting.”

“They’re good at what they do,” Jace agreed, “the best actually.”

“Are any of them lightsaber-proof?” Theron asked sarcastically.

“They haven’t let one stop any of them so far.”

Theron juggled the mug and datapad, skimming through the personnel files as he continued to sip from the sweet caffeinated nectar. He tried to school his expression as he skimmed through the major highlights of each name, but the laundry list of heroic deeds associated with each individual was quite impressive. A notorious smuggler who had taken down the Voidwolf. The commander of Havoc Squad. Even a member of the Jedi High Council. It was the last one that made Theron stop and frown.

“Is this last one even real?” he asked.

Jace nodded solemnly. “She is.”

“It says she killed the Sith Emperor.”

That got Marcus’s attention, who leaned over Theron’s shoulder to read the dossier. Not liking the crowding, he handed the datapad over to his boss, and proceeded to prop his hip on Jace’s desk, still nursing the mug of caf.

“You asked for a small army,” Jace pointed out. “Any of them would be able to perform the extraction.”

“I’d say in that case we should get them all,” Theron said, “but they’re probably pretty scattered.”

Their window of opportunity to strike for this was going to close fast, though, so time was of the essence. It was probably also best to keep the number of those aware of the operation on the lower side too. Even if they were going to take on the entire Sith Academy, and maybe even the Dark Council.

Jace nodded. “You probably can get one in all likelihood.”

“Me, huh?”

“Colonel Darok will be in charge of the operation,” Jace clarified, “but I want the SIS involved on this. This is too big of a target to not bring in our best.”

Theron caught the backhanded compliment, but instead of responding verbally, he just nodded. “I can do some recruiting if you want. You have a preference?”

“Surprise me.”

 Jace flashed him a brief knowing grin, and Theron checked the urge to roll his eyes. He was fairly certain Marcus wasn’t aware of the familial connection, so showing disrespect to the man who was technically his boss’s boss probably wouldn’t help things in the long run. Knowing the way his luck tended to run, Theron would probably need to appeal to the director’s better nature in the next month for some reason or another. Theron didn’t intentionally cause diplomatic and inter-departmental incidents, they just tended to… happen. Sometimes. And by sometimes he meant like clockwork. 

“I’m going to need a little time to dig into the files if that’s the case,” he said instead of rising to the teasing.

“That’s fine.” If Jace was disappointed in Theron’s utter professionalism, it didn’t show, and the moment of levity slipped away. "It will take me some time to get Darok caught up and for us to put a battle plan together.”

Theron nodded and pocketed the datapad from Marcus. “Exactly how much time are we talking about?”

“Enough that you can sleep on it,” Jace tried to keep his tone light, but Theron still caught a hint of paternal concern threading underneath.

“Sleep?” Marcus snorted derisively. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I sleep when I’m bored,” Theron shot back.

“Good. Then you’ll be out before you even get through the first dossier.”

“Are you kidding? This is better than a holo-drama.” The spy tapped his pocket where he had stowed the datapad. 

Jace just shook his head, amused, and the discussion turned to other matters of intelligence. Theron let himself out once he finished his mug of caf, the weight of the datapad in his pocket a reminder of the upcoming mission. Despite the caffeine, he could feel fatigue pulling at him. Either the long hours were getting to him, or the unsettled feeling from the previous day was still eating at him. Maybe after he was able to study the personnel files some more, he could take a moment to review his notes and pinpoint what was bothering him. And then he could get some sleep.

Next Chapter

#swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #Theron Shan #Female Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #oc: greyias highwind #otp: adorkable #smoke and mirrors #SoR Fic O Doom #fanfic #greyfic

[aceofwhump]

Mike Warren Fanfic Rec List

Alright everyone!! Here it is! My fanfiction rec list for Mike Warren!! There’s not a lot of fanfiction out there so pickings are kinda slim (we should all change that. Just saying.) But I hope you enjoy what I’ve found!

Warning 1: A lot of these are incomplete. It sucks but they’re good so I’m adding them anyway.

Warning 2: Some are Pike (Paige and Mike) and no I don’t ship them (cause she is a bitch) but I wanted to read Mike whump and if the Pike wasn’t a huge deal in the fic I read it anyway.

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

Saving Grace by HopefulShipper, RosieColes95  Summary: Abby finds Mike's FBI badge along with his gun that fateful night in S1 and he comes clean about his job. As their relationship deepens can Mike protect her from getting pulled into his undercover world? Cowritten with RosieColes95.

Moving On by kimmyiewrites (arosetosomeone) Summary: Mike Warren has gone back to D.C. to try and move on from all that had happened in Graceland. With a new case and a new partner he just might be able to do just that or will Graceland's memories come back to haunt him?Post Series Finale!

The Silver Lining is in the Stuffed Animal by cancerthecrabbo Summary: When Bello spots him and attacks him in prison, Mike is a little worse for wear. With his stitches pulled out, Charlie takes him to the hospital before they go back to Graceland. Mike, in all his painkiller-induced loopiness, is adorable. The Graceland family takes advantage of the situation to get some blackmail.

what is a half-blind wolf (but a lamb missing an eye?) by cancerthecrabbo Summary: "Mike expects Bello to get between the two of them, perhaps elect to interrogate him, which might leave him some room to stay undercover. Instead, he takes a step back and gives Eddie a slow nod. He hands Eddie the gun." An alternate ending to the episode Pizza Box in which Bello decides to put his trust in Eddie, which means Eddie can dispose of Mike as he wishes. The tactical team waiting nearby gets to them before Eddie can kill Mike but not before he makes the saying an eye for an eye quite literal.

i dream with my eyes open by sonofahurricane Summary: When Eddie attacks Mike, Mike walks away but doesn't get off easily.AU for 1x04, Pizza Box.

Lightshow by busigt_81 Summary: Mike loves running, it clears his head and helps him think about whats going on in his life and he needs it now more than ever.

Anchor by VampirePam Summary: When Mike crashes hard after his first reversal, Briggs is there to pick up the pieces. Missing scene from the pilot.

And Not Just Play a Part by yattayay Summary: He comes out to them one night on the beach, with his head in Charlie’s lap and the fire warming his toes.

The Ever Building Lie by donutsweeper Summary: Odin Rossi had become a part of Paul Briggs, one that was getting harder and harder to hide.Spoilers for episode 1x08 "Bag Man."

Poison by AnthemInMyTveit (SoWrongItsLottie) Summary: “I’m Poison, Mike!” Briggs shouts, spinning his head round to face the younger Agent.Paul Briggs knows that he’s a mess; he has been ever since the incident down in Mexico with Jangles, he’s not going to deny it. Although he never thought for a single second that he would ever let Agent Mike Warren, Mr Boy Scout himself, in on his most darkest secret. When Mike takes a turn for the worse following Bello’s assault, Briggs makes it his mission to get Agent Warren out of Graceland and to DC, where he belongs. But can he really go through with his plan and say goodbye to the person who has had his back since day one?

What Didn't Happen by altschmerzes Summary: “You really think I was dead?” That’s the question he asks instead of his actual question, ‘just how upset were you and how upset are you still?’ Ultimately, the first question answers the second, if what Mike’s face does is any indication.“Yeah.” The word is clipped, followed by a short clear of his throat. “I really did.”--After Mike finds out Johnny is alive, and after Briggs leaves the evidence room, the two of them get a chance to talk, and Mike gets to process a loss that hadn't actually happened.

Come Together by owenharpersgirl Summary: After Bello attacks Mike in the prison, the entire house comes to together to look after him.

Panic by petersnotkingyet Summary: Bates wakes up in the middle of the night and finds Mike having a panic attack. Bromance ensues.

Three in the Morning by IveGotRedHair Summary: Mike's not feeling well and Paige tries to make it better, he might be the new guy but Graceland is family.

It's Just Sauce After All by: Rosebud5 Summary: Based on the "Pizza Box" episode, Mike is left with the suddenly daunting task of cleaning the dishes after sauce night. Just when he thinks he might reach his breaking point, he's joined by somebody who will help take the pain away and clean away all the red to leave a beautiful, pure white. Sometimes, all it takes is a gentle hand to guide you back to the ground.

Those Blue Eyes by: Rosebud5 Summary: When Mike is stabbed and in critical condition, the Graceland family realizes just how much their dorky Levi means to each of them. Takes place during the "Smoke Alarm" episode, with some Mike/Paige and a few hints of Johnny/Charlie.

Life at Graceland by: Misfits-of-Graceland Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on Mike mostly and some are just kind of random.

Under the Cover of Violence by: GracelandFan Summary: Mike has to go undercover as a victim of domestic violence. Briggs has to play the abuser. All is going well until one nosy cop decides to help Mike out of his situation.

Burning in the Dark by: msjgatsby Summary: Mike fails. He needs Paige's forgiveness.

Reveal Those Baby Blues by: Suitslover14 Summary: At least this time he didn't have to call Charlie and Paige and Jakes, telling them that Mike had been stabbed and he had left him to chase after some nightmare in his past. At least this time Mike had a hell of a better chance of surviving. That is if he could just reveal those baby blues.

The Greatest Novel Ever Written by msjgatsby Summary: Paige takes the first shift after Mike's out of the tub. (PIKE outtake from 3x08)

Not So Happy Birthday by: WhumpageLover Summary: It's Mike's birthday, but the day doesn't turn out so happy.

Matters of the Heart by: purplepanda242 Summary: How do you cope when everything goes wrong?

Desperation by: H.E. Mahk Summary: Post season 3.  Picks up right at the end of "No Old Tigers".  Everyone in the house is trying to figure out where to go from here and Mike, especially, is struggling with the stress and guilt of it all.  Will he seek help or fall back into old habits? Warnings: drug use.

Dark by: Miss DiNozzo Summary: Tags to 1x04, Pizza Box. Mike's not doing well.

Mike Whump by: TaliaFox Summary: Basically, a series of one-shots about hurt!Mike. Involved will be shooting, stabbing, kidnapping, etc. Mainly will be Mike and Paul, but others will be included. NOT SLASH.

Search & Rescue By: S.A.N.e-but-inS.A.N.e Summary: When Paige asks Mike to help her on one of her cases, it quickly goes from a simple takedown to a life-threatening situation. Even injured, Mike will stop at nothing to rescue Paige with or without the help of the other residents of the Graceland house.

Mike's Mystery by: WhumpageLover Summary: Mike comes home, beaten and covered in blood, after being gone for three days. He doesn't want to talk about what happened, so it's up to the gang to find out what happened to their Levi.

Sick Mike Oneshots by: Miss DiNozzo Summary: As a huge sickfic fan, I've really wanted to see more sick!Mike. So naturally I wrote a million stories about it.

Stagger by: somewhereinthedreams Summary: Filling in the gap of why Mike thought he and Paige were okay after Bello attacked him in prison. Consider this a deleted scene set during Season 1: Episode 10, "King's Castle."

Come Together by: OwenHarpersGirl Summary: After Bello attacks Mike in the prison, the entire house comes to together to look after him.

#whump #graceland #mike warren #fanfics #fic recs #mods fic recs #mod post #mike warren whump #whump fanfics

[baepsaetan]

Banner by @thebannershop​

Summary: In a futuristic age where a person can be coded and inserted into a new body, the rich can live forever. Born to a wealthy family, Jin expects to live life at a lofty and uncaring height. His expectations go awry when his body is murdered and a small gang steals his ‘stack’ and resleeves him in a criminal. Thrust into a gritty, neon world far below his life as an immortal, where death can be Real, Jin will discover truths that challenge his perceptions and make him wonder what - if anything - immortality is worth.

Chapters: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 7

Genre: Altered Carbon Fusion, Science Fiction/Futuristic, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Murder Mystery

Warnings: Shifting PoVs (primarily Jin), minor character death, abuse, torture, gangs, drug addiction, drug use, references to depression, body dysphoria, animal death, swearing, smut in future chapters

Length: 7.4k

//

The gang he’s been kidnapped by apparently doesn’t own – or at least use – a car, not even a terrain-exclusive one, and they set off on foot from the little apartment complex the men live in. He doesn’t know what time it is, and the sky’s too clouded to give much of an indication, but it’s too light to be night. Mid-afternoon, maybe? There are a fair few people out, and they wind through a series of side streets, cutting by buildings that are tall but also sagging, as if the weight of keeping themselves and their hundreds of thousands of inhabitants upright for half a century or so is becoming too much. Jin considers running, or calling for help, but Jungkook had none-too-subtly shown him the pistol he’s carrying before they’d left, and he hasn’t put it away, either. Besides, when they break through the side roads into what seems to be a main street, Seokjin has other things to think about.

He’s lived in Triptych all his life, but it might be more accurate to say he’s lived in Glass Harbour, instead. The neighbourhood – built in the ocean a short way from Triptych’s shoreline – is of course isolated from the rest of the city, but Seokjin has never realized just how removed he’s been, too. He’s been outside of Glass Harbour plenty of times – even been to the Curve, where they clearly are, given the general disrepair and the lack of multileveled streets – but never without at least several guards and a friend or two, and never really on the streets, either. His family owns several hovercars that simply coast up to whatever place he wants to go; walking the pavement is for the poor.

Triptych is a sprawling city of towering steel and glass buildings, shining pathways of cable and artificial stone arching across various levels, letting citizens walk in the sky as they move through their lives. Far younger than the Bay Area, it is a city of technological advancement and drive, of lights and steel and laws written by a Meth chequebook.

The Curve is an exception to that rule. In the early days of its inception, Triptych had been built on what was essentially two hills, with a deep cleft between the pair. That inconvenience was offset by the location – close to the shore, and, more important for the three Meth families who founded the city, perfectly situated next to a wide ocean shelf on which they could begin to build their Glass Harbour. As the city grew, all soaring heights and chrome exteriors, the gap between the two hills was overwhelmed by the buildings going up on all sides. A deep dip in the urban landscape, it received less sunlight and fresh air than neighbouring districts, and so was forgotten by the Meths who poured money into construction and maintenance.

In a city devoted to worshipping the future, the Curve is a neighbourhood left in the past. There are no networks of raised walkways to direct people through the area. Everyone too poor to move elsewhere operates on one level: the ground.

And there are apparently plenty of those people. The trek through the narrow, pitted roads, Namjoon ahead and Jungkook behind, has revealed more citizens than Jin was even aware lived in Triptych. They have to push through several crowds, hassled people in impatient groups shuffling outside a building or at a transit stop, waiting for things and headed for places he can’t conceive. Even though it’s raining, a miserable shower that sinks straight through his sweater and makes things worse, almost no one has an umbrella, or even a hood. They just accept the rain.

In the same passive way, they accept the haze smearing across neon-bright signs set up far above their heads, the pollution distorting ads for any number of cheap looking products, most of which Seokjin can’t guess the purpose of. Everyone walks quickly, eyes down or on their companions, and accepts – or ignores, it is hard to see a difference – the constant noise of the advertisements. The disembodied voices fall down from the signs and the smog like the conversations of chain-smoking angels, never quite fully understood, too distorted to catch.

“Get a… Won’t regret the…”

“…seat in the back and…”

“…like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Buy now!”

The noise and lights and people crash over Seokjin with a weight that feels more physical than mental, and he guesses these people can’t even afford neural implants or ONIs. That must be why all of the ads are out in the open instead of transmitting into the ocular displays of specific consumers, targeted based on purchasing history and tendencies. He’s only experienced op ads once – no business would dare bother a Meth without permission, and he’d just tried it for fun, at Taehyung’s suggestion – but even that hectic mess of visual heckling had been less overwhelming than the blaring sounds and sights assaulting him now.

And then there’s the sheer struggle of getting where they need to be. Jin actually finds himself grateful for Namjoon. The pink haired man seems to have no issue cutting through the crowds, and, deliberately or otherwise, usually clears enough space for Jin to get through in the process. A few times it isn’t quite enough, and, unused to the broad-shouldered sleeve, Jin jostles against a passerby or two – with irritated responses – but without Namjoon, he probably would have drowned trying to get just a few steps, let alone miles.

When they finally slow, approaching the mouth of an alley off the main street, Jin’s feet are aching. The once white sneakers they gave him have seen better days, and they’re even worse now than when he put them on more than an hour ago; it feels like the three of them walked through enough trash and mud to build a small mountain on the way here, and his shoes reflect that. Namjoon and Jungkook had been oblivious, but he’d spent most of the trip trying (and failing) to navigate puddles, wrappers, cigarette butts and things he couldn’t identify and didn’t want to.            

That, coupled with Jungkook almost literally breathing down his neck the entire time, gun in hand, and snickering whenever Jin slipped or winced or hesitated, has put him in a mood that could only charitably be called bad.

There’s also the whole being kidnapped and forced to return to the spot of his death thing.

“Will you stop that?” he demands when a foot knocks painfully against his heel for the umpteenth time, whipping around to glare at the (presumably) younger man. Jungkook puffs out his cheeks and smiles, a small overbite becoming evident with the little grin, and the innocent expression is infuriating.

No Meth would ever leave a defect like an overbite alone. So far as Seokjin is concerned, it screams poverty. And this drudge had the nerve to kick him! Repeatedly! And grin about it!

If the irritation boiling under his skin is any indication, he’s probably turning an unattractive shade of red, but before Seokjin can make what might be described as a mistake and take a swing at Jungkook, Namjoon intervenes. “Leave him alone, Kookie,” he orders. “Go watch the entrance, make sure no one’s going to start anything.”

Jin is dismally certain that the chances of that are low. He’d tried making eye contact with anyone even remotely respectable in appearance on their way here, some half-baked notion of escape in his head, but very few people even looked at him. Those that did were quick to look away, and he hadn’t been able to tell if that was the fault of the intimidating sleeve he’d been stuck in, or Jungkook looming over his shoulder and scowling, or something else altogether. Regardless, the small number of passersby who happen to glance into the alley all suddenly remember important engagements elsewhere and rush off, leaving Jin stranded.

Better to just bide his time. Or something that sounds similarly calm and planned and definitely not freaking out.

“So,” he says, looking around the alley, and falls silent. It’s certainly not a glamorous spot to die in, or even breathe in. Jin literally can’t imagine why he would have been here. There’s dirt and garbage on the ground, like a carpet of very dubious design that releases an odor he suspects hints at the more disgusting uses this alley has been put to. A bunch of graffiti is scrawled on the walls, senseless black and red scribbles splattered across the bricks like blood and ichor. Someone even rigged up a holographic bit of disruption, a horrifyingly grotesque man, rail thin and warped, who flickers into being (and scares the hell out of Jin) when they get close enough to activate its sensors. The image is deteriorating, pixels missing here and there, and the whole figure wavers in and out of existence erratically. However, that doesn’t stop the holographic from going through a series of obscene gestures, the least of which is giving viewers the finger.

Namjoon is staring at the wavering vandalism. “Do you know,” he asks suddenly, “how hard those are to make?”

“Ah…” The random question takes Jin off guard, and besides, graphics have never been one of his interests.

“It’s hard. Not if you have a computer program to do it all for you, but the program would cost too much for an individual to own.” His heavy eyes flick to Jin and then back to the figure. “Most individuals. So, someone built that, piece by piece, in some kind of limited process, and they did a decent job. It looks good.”

“Good,” Seokjin repeats doubtfully as he stares at the holographic, wondering if there’s something he’s missing about the distorted piece. Or maybe Namjoon’s just a nutcase.

“Not the subject, obviously,” snorts the nutcase in question. “But the skill is there. Good rendering, skin tones… The facial expressions are on point, too. Took time, took effort, took knowledge… and it’s sitting out here, in some random alleyway, just to fuck with whatever police were here to investigate your murder. See, the mechanism is latched in place? The police didn’t even bother to get rid of it, and since they’re not around anymore, it’s not getting seen by anyone.”

This doesn’t exactly feel like small talk, but if Namjoon is trying to make a point, it’s joining the advertisements prattling above Jin’s head, lost in the haze. He rolls his shoulders, impatient, and moves away from the holographic. A few seconds later it dies away. “Look, I got killed here and I don’t care about the quality of some stupid vandalism. You dragged me to this place, now tell me what’s next.”

Taking that with a mouth that twists a little, Namjoon pivots, points to a spot on the ground. It is conspicuously less filthy than any other spot. “You were found around there. This alley is a dead end, so the guy who killed you was probably close to the entrance when he did it… unless he was supposed to meet with you or set up an ambush or something. Just… try to picture it all. See if anything comes back.”  

Compliant, if not exactly confident, Jin looks around more carefully, willing himself to ignore the unpleasantness and stench and focus on the specifics instead. He trails his fingers over the cinder blocks with only a slight grimace for what his touch smears through, studies each line and scuff in the grime at his feet. There are no windows opening up onto this alley, just featureless walls rising up on either side, blank and disinterested in the little drama taking place between them.

"When did I get shot?" he asks.

"From the police files we, uh, liberated, around two in the morning."

So, it was dark when it happened. If they're close to Ringwanderung – Jin can't be sure, he hasn't seen the building so far and he doesn't remember it's exact location from the last visit he can remember – the roads probably weren't deserted. People would have heard him if he screamed. But did he scream?

The rasp of the ground is rough against his fingertips, and when he pulls them away, they're blackened with dirt. Just a bit of dirt, no blood, even though this is the spot he died in. The police apparently did a good job cleaning up; if his faulty memories are at all accurate, he bled like his heart was trying to water the dry ground. But what else is there? Night time...

He's starting to feel strange again. Disconnected, although this time it's not the sleeve that he's floating away from. No, this time the body stays with him as he detaches from the present, forcing his mind into the treacherous, bleak path of the shadowed past. There's nothing there that's solid. It's disintegrated even more than the vandalism Namjoon was so intrigued by. He has – feelings. Impressions. Maybe-might-if-could-be's that float through his head and come apart when he tries to grab them. Words lost on the tip of his tongue.

He didn't scream. Jin is suddenly certain of that. He didn't scream for help, because the man – threatened something. Threatened someone? Someone – Jin loses it. But the man – in his mind, the man is the holographic, twisted and broken and ominous as he looms up in the darkness, with no solid features to nail in place. He veers in and out of focus, and his words are as intangible as his features. Something about – about wanting, about plans collapsing, about frustration and fear, about defiance, about no no no no you can't–

With a gasp, Seokjin shoves himself up from his crouch, staggers into the wall and stays there, needing the uncaring surface to keep him upright. His chest is aching, fear closing ghostly fingers around his throat, the sensation a faded pressure. This time Namjoon doesn't try to help, but neither does he rush Jin or demand an update. That makes it – easier – to get his breathing under control, but it does nothing to help the simmering pressure bubbling under his skin. He's clenching his jaw, he realizes numbly after a moment, and can't seem to get himself to relax as dissatisfaction upbraids his self-assurance.

All of that, and he still has – nothing. Absolutely nothing. A bunch of gibberish, even less useful than a holographic placed in the middle of nowhere.

He hits his fist against the wall he’s leaning against, more of a tap than a punch, but Namjoon’s eyebrows lift at the aggravated display. “I’m guessing that means you can’t remember anything important?”

“I’m trying,” he pants. “But this is just – garbage and more garbage. I can’t put anything together.”

“Tell me a bit about it.”

“What’s there to tell? I – I got threatened by the guy, I think, and he wanted something. I don’t know if I gave it to him.” Jin coughs, trying to clear a throat that’s gone dry. “Just to be clear, that’s all maybes. I don’t – I can’t tell if it’s real or not.”

“What did he want?”

It’s not purposeful – or at least, Jin’s pretty sure it’s not – but there’s something extremely aggravating about the other man’s persistence. “Yah! Are you deaf? I told you, I don’t know!”  

Namjoon is silent for a moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw, before he turns away. "So, we're at more than one dead end," he comments, and though Jin catches an attempt at a smile at the corner of his mouth, he sounds dispirited. Not angry. Just… tired. Jin is surprised and relieved that his outburst hadn’t elicited a violent retaliation, but there’s something dimly reproachful keeping his throat tight as he follows the other man to the end of the alley. When Jungkook looks over inquiringly, Namjoon shakes his head.

"Let's go inside the Ring and see if there's anything we can pick up there." Passing a hand over his face, for a moment the pink-haired man doesn't follow his own command, just stands unmoving on the sidewalk. It lasts for all of two seconds, but it still makes discomfort sink seething hooks into Jin, somewhere low in his stomach. Obviously Namjoon is struggling to hold himself together, and that doesn't seem to speak well for Jin's immediate future. Or for any of their futures, actually. When he glances at Jungkook, the boy is biting at his lip and watching his leader from the corner of his eye, presumably just as concerned, albeit for entirely different reasons.

Dropping his hand, Namjoon gives himself a little shake. As though they were the ones dawdling, his voice sharpens as he snaps, "Let's go."

True to his capturers' words, the Ring is just a few buildings down, though the street curves sharply upward and had made it difficult to spot the sign from further down the way. The sign isn’t garish, which is surprising given how many eyesores Jin has seen on this street. Three neon rings surrounded by a fourth, all of them differing shades of blue, with Ringwanderung shot through them in a dark blue approaching black. The sign probably looks quite beautiful at night. The Ring itself is a squat building of modern black and grey angles, shorter by two or three floors than the ones on either side of it, but it's also wider than either of them. If Jin remembers correctly, it has several underground floors, too, where most of the drug dens and prostitute rooms are. Above ground, funny enough, was for above ground deals, like dancing, hanging out and eating, drinking alcohol and using some of the milder intoxicants available. Very PG 13.

There aren't all that many people frequenting the club when they enter the Ring, including security. That's not entirely a surprise, given the time, and Jin pauses just inside the entrance, letting his eyes adjust to the slightly dimmer setting while they scour the red and black couches scattered across the room. He's half-hoping he'll see a familiar face, someone to run to and beg for help – several of his friends, particularly Taehyung, like to come here, enjoying the establishment’s slight edges. Jin’s come to realize those are pretty laughable. What’s edgy about a building complete with a complement of security guards?

Although, now that he thinks about it... his friends might be wearing familiar faces, but he isn't. What would they do if some random stranger came up to them and started ranting about needing help?

Not react quickly enough to save him from being shot by Jungkook or Namjoon, Jin's pretty sure of that. Even Taehyung, with his special empathy implants, would probably take too long.

Both of his escorts are tenser in this closed setting, anyways. Somehow Jungkook manages to inch even closer to him than when they were walking, and Namjoon doesn't let the same amount of space grow between them as he leads the way through the lounge, deeper into the club. "Keep your head down," he mutters to Jin. "I don't want someone recognizing the sleeve."

Jin stops dead and hisses, “What do you mean, someone recognizing the sleeve?” Seconds later, as Namjoon regards him tight-lipped and silent, a horrified revelation stumbles into his mind. “You – I’m in – You put me in someone’s body illegally? Someone who lives here?”

“Now’s not the time to get into the details, Seokjin,” Namjoon says from between clenched teeth.

“Not the time!” His voice leaps like it’s trying to high-five the ceiling. “Where is – who is – how –” It hadn’t even remotely occurred to him that they might have put him in a sleeve with an owner who wasn’t either dead or locked away or had moved on from this sleeve. He’d just – Meths took their sleeves from others if they took a fancy to one, sure, but that was an exception, not the rule. Most of them were lab-created, or, if biologically based and from parents, at least genetically enhanced. The point being that they were new, and not… He’d known this was a used sleeve, the impulses proved that, but he hadn’t thought that the previous user might still be around! Or their friends!

Namjoon must see the alarm taking over Jin and tilting precariously towards a full-blown meltdown, because he steps closers, grabs Jin’s arm. “Relax, okay? I promise, we’ll fill you in on everything, but not right now.”

He stares wildly into Namjoon’s dark eyes, and they feel like locked doors with bright OPEN signs above them. A lie and a disappointment. “Just tell me. Are they dead? The person who had this sleeve… Did you kill them?”

The fingers wrapped around Seokjin’s arm tighten to the point of pain, but the other man doesn’t look away. Doesn’t hesitate when he says, “No. They’re not dead. Even if they deserve to be. We’ll talk about the rest later.”

Seokjin is released and his captor turns away, leaving a throbbing ache in Jin’s arm and a colder hurt in his chest. He doesn’t know if Namjoon is lying to get him to go along with this. Is that why this body is so bruised and battered? Because whoever had worn it before ‘deserved’ it?

“Like I said,” Namjoon tacks on, voice cool, “just keep your head down. Don’t look at anyone for too long. I don’t even think he went here that often, only a few times.” He starts to move away.  

"A few times is a few times too many! Maybe you should have thought of that before?" Jin gripes, unmoving, sweat pouring down his back and making his shirt stick to his skin uncomfortably. The wary looks he darts at the club inhabitants don’t reveal anyone particularly interested, even despite his outburst, but he feels like a target’s been put on his back. "This face isn't exactly indiscrete. It practically begs for attention. You should have grabbed me a hat or something."

Jungkook shoves him in the back, the gun's barrel pressing a painful indent into his body, but that doesn't stop Jin from seeing the way Namjoon grimaces, his head falling, accepting the blame as yet another heavy burden.

The dance area is even emptier than the lounge, with only a few groups of people standing here and there, drinks in hand. The small cluster of booths off to the side are completely empty. A trio of girls are swaying slowly in the middle of the floor. They can't be dancing to the music – there's a quiet but fast electro-pop song playing in the background – and he can only assume by the relaxed way they move that they've been sampling some of the wares that the Ring offers. There's a bar at the back of the room that might sell such wares, a long counter with a bunch of stools manned by a sole crewman. He's not exactly the friendliest looking person Jin's ever seen, with a bristling black beard and eyebrows so thick they could have crawled down his chin and formed another beard. He’s also giving them a once over.

Apparently failing to notice those alarming traits, Namjoon heads straight for the counter. "Arven," he says warmly.

“Namjoon!” the bartender calls back, just as warmly. “If it isn’t the bulletproof boy. I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.” When Jin moves to get closer, interested in spite of himself, Jungkook grabs his sweater, pulls him back with a warning look.

“They’re not talking about shit that concerns you, Meth,” Jungkook says. “Just some business deals. How ‘bout you just stand there and look good until they’re done? I bet you’re good at that.” The acerbic words sound a bit awkward, like the kid is trying them out for the first time, and after Jin stares at him for a few seconds, Jungkook flushes and looks away.

Jin mumbles, “I am good at looking good,” and yanks his sweater out of the other's grasp. Still uncomfortable, he scans the room, observation skipping over several people before he freezes. One of the girls on the dance floor, a red head in a floral green summer dress, is watching him, her gaze glassy, and he smiles nervously before looking away.

“Uh, Jungkook?” he whispers. “I think that girl recognizes me.”

“No, she doesn’t know…” The strangled way his guard’s words die might have been funny, if the girl wasn’t making her way over.

“What do I do!?”

“Get her to go away!”

“How?”

Jungkook doesn’t come up with anything before the girl is in hearing range, and a quick look at his wide, panicked eyes makes Jin suspect it would have taken awhile, anyways.

"Hey, Siwoo," the pale girl breathes in an uncomfortably familiar way when she halts in front of them. Her eyes trail across his face, noting the cuts and bruises, but she makes no comment. Is it the norm for this sleeve, or just not something you talk about in public? "It’s so weird to run into you now."

Jin casts a pleading look at Jungkook, but the young man just edges closer, hand under his coat and definitely cradling his gun. Seokjin doesn’t dare turn around enough to see if Namjoon has noticed their interaction, but surely he won’t be shot? If he can just fumble around and pretend to be who he’s not? And if he can’t? Is he – or the girl – going to be killed just because he can’t act like a thug? The unbidden thought sets his teeth on edge, and Jin tries to pull his face into something tough and removed.

"Uh, hey," he says, wondering if she's high enough to miss any discrepancies in his mannerisms. Her expression is spacey enough to give him hope. "I had something to pick up nearby, and I, uh, figured this place had a nice ring to it, you know? Hahaha." Her delicate brows furrow, button nose scrunching, and he thinks that maybe Siwoo doesn't use puns too often. Or maybe it was the way his laugh had spiked seventy octaves, nerves punting it up like a pro-kicker over a goalpost.

Before Jin can devolve into panic too much more, the perplexed expression dissolves, replaced by a knowing smile. "You picked up some of the new stuff from Kali, huh? Bet it's got you going." She steps closer, looking back at her friends suggestively. "If you shared some with us, I bet we could really keep you going, Siwoo."

"Ahaha..." His cheeks flaming red, Jin wonders if spontaneously combusting would destroy his stack, or just this sleeve. He also wonders what kind of guy Siwoo is, that girls are willing to make that kind of suggestion, and so boldly, too. The thought does nothing for his embarrassment. "I, uh, can't. Not this time. I’m meeting with, uh…"

A stroke of genius hits, sweeping away most of the mortification. Namjoon said that whoever this body belonged too, he deserved to be dead. Who else could that be, than one of the gang members targeting Namjoon’s group? If that were true… If this girl knows Siwoo, then maybe she knows something about that, too. And if he can find it out…

Jin slaps his forehead, thickens his voice further like he’s seriously intoxicated. “Damn… You know the one. He’s the guy who…” Jin leans closer, pitches his voice lower. “Well, you heard about that Meth that got murdered the other night? It’s the guy who offed him.”

She jerks back, alarmed even in her haze, and gives Jungkook a wary once over. Her voice lowers to a hiss. “Keep your voice down, Siwoo. Fuck, you’ve had too much if you’re talking about David. ‘Sides, that’s your guys’ business, not mine.”

“Yeah, yeah, David, sorry.” He tries to wave an airy hand, but it’s shaking too hard, so he runs it through his hair instead. The motion doesn’t do much to soothe his racing thoughts. “This shit I’m trying is just, uh, really heavy.” She nods slowly, but Jin doesn’t think she’s quite convinced. He tries a different tactic. “Actually, honestly, I’m just kind of pissed off. I heard David got a bunch of creds or something from getting that guy, and he isn’t sharing it with me. But I still gotta grab shit for him?”

As he hoped, the promise of gossip eases her a little, even as a confused frown slopes her mouth. “I heard it was a lot, too. Something big or something, everyone up top was freaking out. Someone said Rafa smiled when he heard. It’s weird he wouldn’t share, when I heard you’re the one who helped him out.” Jungkook moves, a sudden twitch, and she eyes him again. Jin could have kicked him in the shin. Abruptly losing interest, the girl shrugs. “Like I said, it’s not my business. Besides, you never introduced me to your… friend?” Jin stiffly nods. “Who is he? Have I seen you before?” That to Jungkook directly, and with her attention diverted, Jin is free to look at his guard, too.

He hadn’t realized it before, too engrossed in the pretence, but Jungkook might very well be having a heart attack. The kid is shaking and sweating, pink staining every visible patch of skin, and his head is ducked so low his chin might as well be fused to his throat. Jungkook stutters something that’s completely incomprehensible, before clearing his throat. In a very small voice, he says, “Probably. You probably saw me. I – I’ve been here before.”

Such a novel experience as his captor floundering should really be enjoyed, and Jin is spitefully ready to sit back and let Jungkook continue to struggle. It seems no more than justice.      

Unfortunately, impatient or too drugged to hold on to a train of thought, the girl shrugs again, not even interested enough to get a name. “Alright. Anyways, Siwoo, are you going to the Meth party? I’ve never been to one and I hear it's going to be wild! Some of the other girls were invited last week, but since that Meth got messed up, not many of you guys are coming here to throw around party invitations. So far none of you assholes have asked me to go. Plus I doubt any Meths are gonna be sending out invites, either."

The girl is definitely working another angle, and Jin blinks rapidly, trying to keep up with the information. "The party? Uh, I haven't decided yet. It's... when is it again?"

"Christ, Siwoo, maybe you should lay off the stuff for awhile. I heard everyone from your group is invited. It's, what, a few months from now? Remember? If you feel like going, you should hit me up; I want a pass."

"A pass?"

"Duh. Not like the Meths are gonna let just anyone stroll into Glass Harbour, especially not at a party like that." The redhead rolls her eyes. “Can’t have people like us dragging in mud, right? I want to –” One of the girls still on the dancefloor calls out a name, Natasha, and she glances back. Her friends make beckoning gestures. Natasha waves at them and looks ruefully at Jin. “My friends are calling. I’ll see you later, okay? Anytime. Hope stuff works out with you and David… And seriously, let me know if you’re going? Or if you just want to hang out…” She trails away without another look at either of them.

Beside him, Jungkook inhales violently. Within a few seconds Namjoon arrives at their side, face calm but eyes demanding as they turn to Jungkook. The brown-haired man hurriedly says, “I think it’s fine. She’s a friend or something, not someone that knows this asshole is missing.”

“And Seokjin didn’t…” Try to clue her in, Jin assumes Namjoon is asking. He lifts his chin, outraged by the question.

“No,” Jungkook replies, “nothing like that. Actually, he – I think he pretty much fooled her.” His tone could not have been more grudging if he’d made a concerted effort, though before Jin can smile at the faint praise, Jungkook cuts that pretty short. “She was so high I think a pole with a face stuck on it might have fooled her, though.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that while Jungkook was imitating the pole he just mentioned, I was finding out things! A lot of help you were, by the way,” Jin adds with a sour look at Jungkook. Yeah, he definitely prefers the kid flushing in embarrassment instead of wearing a smug grin. At least the former is cute instead of insufferable.

Namjoon forestalls anything either of them might have added. “You can tell me about it when we leave. I talked to Arven, mostly business, but I asked him about the murder, too.” As Jin begins to frown at that information, he continues. “Not about you specifically, just in an indirect way. He didn’t know much about it. Said something about an unusual amount of Meths coming here, and not just thirteenth sons and daughters, either, but even a few heads of houses.”

He looks so excited by the news that Jin feels a little bad to let him down. “That’s not that weird. There are trends, right? Ringwanderung has been gathering popularity for awhile now; it’s not odd that some of the heavy weights would eventually stop by. It’ll be a thing for a bit – maybe a while longer than usual, since I got, uh, since I died – and they’ll move on to other things.”

The way Namjoon’s shoulders slump is distracting enough for Jin to ignore Jungkook’s comment about flighty bastards. Hands hovering and waving awkwardly, Seokjin says, “Well, it might be important. Maybe it’s not a coincidence that I got hurt just when they started coming here.” It’s definitely a coincidence, so far as he’s concerned, but it’s nice to see the gang leader take a deep breath and straighten a little.

“Okay. Well – we’ll figure it out. I’m guessing being here hasn’t struck anything in your memory?”

Jin looks around the Ring. He remembers it well enough, but just from night and weekend sprees, hazy and splotched with drugs and alcohol. There’s nothing immediate about the memories, nothing that says he’s about to stumble onto a massive revelation. Hesitantly, wanting to give it his best try, he spends a few minutes wandering around, his two captors tailing him, but by the time they circle back to the dancefloor, he hasn’t found anything. He doesn’t really want to go downstairs, either, not with this company. After a few more silent seconds of observation, he shakes his head.

His companion sighs, but less heavily than the last time. “It’s time for us to go, then. This was a long shot, anyways, and the less time you’re in the open, the better.” When he gestures, Jin precedes him out of the dance area, leaving the pop music behind, with Jungkook trailing them both.

They enter into the lounge again, soft lights a distinct change from the darker illumination of the dancefloor, the private conversations a pleasant background noise. Jin tunes them out; he’s attempting to calculate what else he has to offer, since this trip has been essentially a bust. Was the Meth party significant? Who was hosting it? He can’t remember being invited to one recently, but that could be his amnesia in general, or maybe he just wasn’t friends or acquaintances with the host. The latter was admittedly much less likely – there weren’t all that many Meths, especially ones influential enough to host parties that normies could be invited to – but if the whole gang was invited, that had to be important, right? Only, what could it mean? What…

“Ah, we’re gonna find something tonight! I can feel it!”

“Sir, it’s barely the evening and we just got here. Besides, we’ve been here so many times in the last few days. What makes today different?”

“It’s a feeling! I’m absolutely positive someone here knows something.”

“…sir, you’ve tried already… Why don’t we just go home…?”

Jin’s concentrating so hard that it takes him a moment to realize that he knows both of the voices coming from a cluster of couches not far from them. When he gawks in that direction, he definitely recognizes the tousled head of dark brown hair just visible above the chair’s back.

A surge of relief hits him, thunderous comfort resonating through his nerves, so powerful that he stops dead and feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Without conscious decision, the name bursts from him, as natural as his own. “Taehyung!”

The gun that’s suddenly jammed against his spine, hard enough to make his mouth tighten in pain, is expected. After all, even as the word had left his lips, he’d regretted it, had wanted to pull it back and give himself time to think instead of showing his hand so early. He’d expected the consequences.

But he doesn’t expect the glacier cold voice that issues from behind him to belong to Namjoon.

“Put your head down, now,” demands the voice he hardly recognizes, and even as Taehyung stands up from the couch and turns their way, Seokjin complies, sets his stinging eyes on the red carpet at their feet. Namjoon snatches his arm, bodily forces him to sidestep away, and Jungkook casually paces in front of them, blocking Tae’s line of sight. “You say anything, you even breathe wrong, and you die. So does your friend,” Namjoon says quietly, his perfect enunciation of each word somehow more frightening than if he’d been shouting.

“What is it, sir?” asks Taehyung’s companion, and Jin knows it’s Drayton, the Kim family’s personal driver. Probably here to drag the man home on his father’s orders, but roped into whatever TaeTae is doing.

When Taehyung replies, he sounds miffed. “I thought I heard my name.”

“Really? I don’t think I…”

You did, Seokjin wants to scream, and he wants to cry too, because God, he’s been so alone, and Taehyung is right there. But a new terror is puncturing his lungs, making it hard to breathe, and this jagged fear has nothing to do with the pistol pressing into his back. It has to do with Taehyung’s curious, clever eyes, and the way he sees things that sometimes he shouldn’t, and the way he wants to help when he shouldn’t, too.

If Namjoon had been just a little slower – if Jin had been just a little louder – his friend would have seen him, maybe even recognized him. And Jin would have had just enough time to see something like bewildered joy bloom across Taehyung’s face before Taehyung, one of the best people he knows, was shot to death, and who cared if it was just a sleeve death? Jin is walking proof that the experience is a horrible one. And the possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until after the fact.

The thought makes him nauseous, literally nauseous, and Namjoon practically has to drag him through the lounge and outside. The air’s still stifling despite being outdoors, and when Seokjin looks up all he can see is buildings and grey haze. No sky to speak of. Yet somehow the rush of people is still present, going through their day as if they don’t have an ashen weight over their heads. It’s smothering and does nothing for the frenetic pounding in his chest or the queasiness in Jin’s stomach.

A harsh shove by Namjoon sets him into a stumbling walk, the gun falling away with his captors hemming him in on either side. After a few blocks, the pink-haired man asks tersely, “Do you think we’re being followed?”

Jungkook says, “I haven’t seen anyone. No… I don’t think so.” There’s a beat of silence between the three of them that’s so profound it almost blocks out the sounds of street traffic, the noisy chatter of the people they’re flowing through. Jungkook breaks it. “We shouldn’t have brought him. Or we should have made sure we had control of him. We shouldn’t –”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

Silence again, deep and miserable and difficult to walk in. Jin doesn’t know what to do, what to say. The constant fear that’s been lapping at his feet or swamping over his head is proving too much; his lips and fingertips are tingling, but Seokjin is numb to everything else. His feet slog through a sticky puddle of someone’s discarded drink without pause, and the clang of his foot hitting the mostly empty can doesn’t even make him glance down. It’s hard enough to just keep his legs moving.

They cover several more streets before Jungkook says, small and unhappy, “Sorry, hyung. I should have kept a closer watch, anyways. I got… distracted.”

“…Nah. S’not your fault. Just bad luck or something. Maybe we’re cursed.” It’s a joke that falls so flat it’s almost 2D, and when Jin’s eyes drift over to Namjoon’s tight face, the man doesn’t really look like he’s joking, anyways.

They’re off the main road now, passing through an industrial zone with cars lining both sides of the street, but few people are in sight among the clusters of squat, stained buildings. Jungkook kicks at the chain link fence they’re walking next to, making it rattle. “It’s not bad luck. It’s him. Why’d you have to go do something stupid like that, huh?” he abruptly demands of Jin.

Jin, grateful to be more or less ignored until now, hesitates to answer. Jungkook’s question isn’t even that mean, more frustrated than anything, but Seokjin can’t tear his gaze from the cracked pavement they’re walking over. Truth is, he’s been wondering the same thing himself. Had he really almost gotten Taehyung killed? All for – what? A second of relief that he wasn’t the only one in this horrible situation? He’d already concluded that no one could help, at least not quickly enough, but he’d called for his friend despite that.

What does that make him?

Once again, Namjoon intercedes on his behalf. Sort of. “It doesn’t matter now, Kookie. We got out without anyone important catching on. All’s well that ends well. A fairy-tale finish.” The bitterness is absolutely impossible to miss by the end, but when Jin risks a look, Namjoon isn’t directing the vitriol towards him. He’s wearing an indrawn expression, fine brows caving together, and Jin doesn’t think it’s the encounter with Taehyung that has him so upset. Or at least, that’s not the only thing.

Namjoon catches him watching, however, and his brows draw down even more. “Jungkook’s right, though. It was stupid. What did you think would happen?”

He waits to feel the sharp prick of defensiveness, but it doesn’t come. “I… I didn’t really think, it just… came out.”

The ice that was in Namjoon’s tone before has crept into his eyes when he says, “Next time – if there’s a next time – you have to think. Because I know this situation sucks, but I’m not risking my crew for a Meth who puts his mouth before his head again. Next time…”

“I get shot. I die. Yeah, I get it.” And he does. He really kind of does. So much so that it does nothing to the leaden mass sunk into every atom of his body.

The tight hollowness in his throat is only growing, a gaping emptiness that’s threatening to climb into his head and plummet into his chest. There’s regret, sure, regret for saying anything, regret for not saying enough, regret that he’s here at all, but the fear is a wrung-out towel, strangled and nearly dry. All Jin wants is to be somewhere else. It’s hard to look away from both Jungkook and Namjoon, since they’re on either side, so once again his gaze finds the ground.

Which is why Jin completely misses the woman, dressed in dark clothes with a black face mask, who suddenly steps out from behind one of the cars ahead of them. There’s a gun clutched in her hand. He misses the way she lifts up the weapon and aims – right at Jin.

He doesn’t miss the crack of the gun going off, though.

#namjin #namjin fanfic #my fanfic #namjoon x seokjin #member x member #seokjin #namjoon

[paellaplease]

Firebird | Chap.6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Apologies for the long wait, everyone!

Chapter 6: Of Monsters and Metals Part 1. 

Strength is not measured by your willingness to meet fear’s gaze...

*

Revali dove, slowed, and eventually landed, talons gracefully touching down on the rocky ground below them like a falling leaf to water.

Maiya lifted her head from his shoulder, the smell and sounds of waves crashing into stone washing over her as she opened her eyes. Looking around, she saw that they were standing on a long slab of rock, hovering above the tumultuous waters of Lake Totori.

Another departure deck, her mind supplied for her.

The hylian quickly clambered off the rito’s back, the freshwater spray chilling her to the bone. She realised just how much warmth Revali’s feathers had provided her, feeling the full brunt of the elements as she pulled away. Maiya shivered, regretting her earlier decision in leaving her thicker coat at the inn.

As her feet touched the earth, her legs immediately gave way.

“Holy— ”

Revali caught her arm, steadying her moments before she smacked into the ground.

“Give it a moment.”

“No, it’s alright.”

Stubbornly, Maiya took another step forward. The rito warrior clicked his tongue as he caught her again. “You are unaccustomed to flight. Stand still and move your feet slowly, let the normal flow of blood return to your legs. Unless of course you’re extremely keen on acquainting yourself with the floor.”

Embarrassment colouring her cheeks, Maiya closed her mouth and turned her head away, allowing herself to lean on him but refusing to look him in the eye. She stared forward into the distance, surveying their surroundings as she waited for the tingling feeling in her legs to disappear. As her eyes adjusted, all she could see was a looming cliff before her and a thick wall of evening fog. Night had set in around them, making visibility difficult in the dying light.

“So...where is that cave we saw earlier?”

Revali’s free wing pointed down to the empty space in front of them, following along the platform until the point where she guessed it would connect to the cliff a few metres away. “On the other side of this departure deck, beyond the fog.”

The Enchanter pulled her jacket closer as another strong gust of wind blew past, mussing up her dark hair again and cooling the sweat on her brow. Small waves continued to crash against the platform, powerful enough at times she swore she could feel the ground shudder. Quietly, she marvelled at how different the scenery appeared in comparison to what she saw in the sky earlier. From afar, the cave seemed so...removed— detached in its stillness. Now up close it felt like she was in the midst of a storm.

What an odd place to have a smithy. “So your forge is cut into the rock holding your village aloft in the sky?”

The rito warrior’s jade eyes were still trained at the distance in front of them as he regarded her evenly. “We are still within village grounds, enchanter.” His expression turned thoughtful. “And that is more than just a rock in the middle of the lake. The cliff face you see in front of you is Wayrakuchuyna, or simply Wayra. She is ancient, older than Chief Kamori and many of those before him, and is the foundation from which Valoo’s Spire was carved.”

“Thats,” Maiya paused, mulling over her words. “That’s actually very interesting. I thought the Spire was carved by your people?”

“Carved by the wind.” The rito corrected her, the rarest hint of a smile in his voice. “Technically speaking, we are underneath the main village structure. Valoo’s Spire is the epicentre of our way of life. However, Wayra had been a part of my people for as long as rito could fly.”

“As such, according to Chief’s Law, so long as we are connected to her, we are always home.” He looked up, gazing at the cliff-face for a quiet moment.

Maiya tilted her head, mimicking his stance. Due to the angle from where they stood, she found it difficult to spot the Spire amongst the rocks and fog. She only managed to catch the faint details of the bridge she’d crossed a day ago, hanging far away in the air above them, illuminated by the waning gibbous moon.

Feeling that enough time had passed, she gave her leg an experimental shake, relieved that the pins and needles had finally subsided. “Hey...I think my legs are back to normal.”

“Continue forward if you must then. You are capable of making your own decisions.”

“I would but,” despite her irritation at his previous comment, she allowed a laugh to slip through. She cleared her throat and pointed to her shoulder. “You can let go now.”

Feathers rising, Revali quickly withdrew his wing, stepping to the side. “Take caution where you tread,” he groused, suddenly very interested in readjusting his pauldrons. “I won’t be responsible if your clumsiness results in you cracking a few eggs.”

The Enchanter shrugged, too tired to deal with the rito’s changing moods, and started walking.

Both hylian and rito made haste across the departure deck, the gaping maw of the forge’s main entrance slowly coming into view. The cave-like opening was tall as it was wide, and Maiya estimated it would easily fit about three of her across. Enshrouded in fog; dark and foreboding, it looked to suck all life into it until there was nothing but open emptiness.

Except it wasn’t empty.

“Someone's there.” She murmured.

Smoke escaped from the mysterious figure's pipe, making them appear like a shadow in the creeping darkness. They were leaning against a tall and looming object. Upon closer inspection it revealed itself to be a heavy metal door, several locks lining its side.

Their face flickered by the flame of a rusty sconce, wavering in the midst of blistering winds. They had feathers of mottled black and white, and a jet black scraggly beard which was pulled into two hanging braids. They stood as if dragged down by the weight of the world — a hunch curving their back and an elderly face dominated by two white-feathered brows pinched together in a scowl. Whilst unable to see their eyes, she still had a feeling that they were watching them closely, eyeing them like a hawk as they drew closer.

Above them, a sign swung and creaked in the whistling wind. Jackdaw Metalworks and Weaponry it read, complete with a carving of two rito's and an anvil resting between them.

“Yieni,” Revali said from behind her, voice unusually careful and diplomatic. He bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Allin tuta, it has been a while.”

Maiya’s eyes widened in alarm. Yieni? Then that means—

The Blacksmith lifted his head, revealing a pair of fierce, cloudy eyes. He threw Revali a questioning look, before zeroing in on the Enchanter and the dagger that hung innocently at her hip. Maiya felt frozen in place, the rito’s glare piercing in its quiet fury. It was as if he was surveying a defective sword, seeking what was left of its worth.

Revali gently nudged her with his wing, pulling her from her thoughts. "Courage now," he whispered.

Maiya grimaced, straightening her back and ignoring the rope of anxiety knotting in her chest. She cleared her throat. “Good evening, Yieni." She didn't think it was possible, but his scowl deepend. Don't panic, just continue. "I am Maiya from the land of Akkala and I’m hoping you can answer some questions regarding— ”

“Get out.”

She blinked. “Pardon me but wha—”

“I said get out! Leave this place." He rasped, smoke escaping his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he glared daggers at the blue rito. “What in the void possessed you to bring an Enchanter to my doorstep, Revali?”

The warrior raised his wings up as if in surrender. “I mean no offense, Yieni.”

“Hah!” The elderly rito hunched over as a dry cough racked through him. "I cannot imagine what inane quest has sent you here but we’ve had enough trouble brought upon by your kind, Enchanter. Now run back to your teacher and never show your face on my property again.”

Maiya’s felt her enthusiasm drain, her gloved hand warming alongside the bubbling of her unease. "You don’t understand. So much of my people’s knowledge has been lost. I know you have a level understanding of our craft. Please.” Fucking listen!

The rito shook his head. “I’ve been bitten more than once by feeding the rabid dog. I refuse to extend my arm out once more as it bears its teeth."

“That makes no sense!”

"I make no deals with Enchanters,” he spat. “Make sense of that, child.” Putting his cigar out, Yieni wrenched the heavy door behind him open, stepping through.

Maiya raced forward. “Wait, hold on!”

The door was slammed shut, cold metal inches from bruising her nose. She took a step back, bumping into the warrior behind her.

Maiya looked at him, the locked door, and slumped. “Okay, perhaps I need to rethink my strategy here." Or perhaps he really hates Enchanters and I'm just wasting my time.

Revali crossed his wings. “Perhaps?” he said, beak curving. “A welcome like that and you honestly still think you have a wing in the door?"

The Enchanter looked to the open lake, feeling cold droplets hit her face as the rain above began to fall. "This would have been a waste of time if I decide to give up now." She rolled her shoulders, ignoring Revali's muttered “Evidently” and bunched up her sleeves. “I’m not leaving til that door opens.”

The blue rito moved to the side, gesturing her forward with an exaggerated wave of his feathers. “The floor is yours.”

Maiya clenched her jaw and moved to knock again.

Knock, knock. Her first attempt garnerd no response.

Knock, knock, bang! As did her second.

“Stubborn old bird.”

She felt the veins in her left hand begin to burn again, the rune no doubt responding to the shock and stress of the day’s events. Taking the glove off, she shook her hand vigorously in the air, trying to cool down the scar which had heated up considerably in the past few minutes. The edges glowed a light blue. She hissed.

“Are you well?” Revali asked.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. Good going, he thinks you're going to burn the place down now. “Nothing, ignore me. Stinging as always.”

Gritting her teeth, she raised her left hand again. She was inches away from slamming it into the door when the metal surface shuddered.

Reflexively, Revali reached for his bow. Maiya held a hand up, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. “Wait—”

She took a cautious step back as the clicks of several locks were heard, the unusual symphony joined by a cacophony of keys turning, latches being pulled, and bars sliding to the side. Smoke left hidden pockets located at the hinges, making a hissing noise as billowing clouds escaped from the cracks, dissipating into the surrounding darkness.

A creak and screech echoed, the sound ricocheting off the rock and making small pebbles fall from their perches. Metal scraped against metal, joining the activity as the noise reached a crescendo, building up until suddenly— there was silence.

Maiya released the breath she was holding, clutching her gloved hand to her chest. "Did I do that?"

"No,” Revali said. He pointed to a rounded mirror-like object which hung above the burning sconce, something Maiya thought was merely for decoration. "That glass is not reflecting our images…”

At that moment, the flame went out.

“Someone’s watching us.”

And the door swung open with a bang.

Lying before them was a dark corridor. It was cold and eerie, a void tunneling into the rock. Maiya was surprised to find that no one was on the other side to greet them, and wondered briefly how the door could have opened by itself. “There’s something mysterious at work here,” she whispered.

It was completely barren except for a small hanging lantern at the furthest part of the hall. The quivering flame marked the beginning of a spiral staircase, its flickering light illuminating the start of stone steps leading down.

The Enchanter stared into the darkness, fear of the unknown making her hesitate. As she retreated into herself, she took a step back, her hand brushing the hilt of her dagger. The latent energy within it sent a small spark up her fingers, and for a moment she remembered the way it spluttered and burned within the confines of the Blacksmith’s clamp.

Her mentor’s words reverberated in her mind. ‘Do not let fear dictate your freedom.’

Maiya groaned, stepping foot into the dark corridor and began walking with renewed purpose. “Into the unknown, let’s go.” She grumbled. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

She was surprised to hear Revali following close behind her, the sound of talons against stone echoing throughout the passageway. Pausing abruptly, she swivelled around to face him, taken aback by how close he suddenly was.

She backpedalled and crossed her arms, ignoring how he was only a step away. “Hold on. You’re coming with me?”

Revali mirrored her stance, folding his wings. He looked at her pointedly. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but there’s no stairway to the Spire from here.”

“So you’re sticking around to fly me back up, huh?”

“Precisely.”

Maiya huffed, lifting her head higher to glare at him. “Chief Kamori told you to watch me, didn’t he?”

He wasn’t even looking at her, choosing this moment to inspect the feathers on one of his wings. He flexed it in front of him as a hylian would when checking their nails. “You wound me, enchanter,” he said, voice bored. “Do you really believe I’d make you scale the cliff in the dark?”

“Oh.” She laughed humorlessly, turning around to continue her brisk walk to the end of the hall. “Absolutely.”

 Maiya kept a steady palm on the smooth stone column beside her as they continued deeper into the cave. In their descent, she traced the lines of the column, feeling it grow colder the further they travelled into the cavern in almost full darkness. It was one of the few times she was grateful for the dull glow of her hand, leading the way and stopping her from taking a bone-breaking tumble to the bottom floor. At least the stress did something good for once.

The spiral staircase seemed to wind forever, eventually unfurling and flattening, lantern light appearing in the distance as they reached the very last step. They eventually found themselves in an open room, under a high ceiling full of vents.

The Enchanter marvelled at the flow of the air as she watched smoke leave like ribbons through hidden pockets in the room, seemingly replaced by a fresh batch almost instantaneously with the lift of a vent in the ceiling.

It appeared that most of the heat in the room was originating from the giant metal structure sitting at its centre. Blackened and spluttering soot, its presence dominated most of the space; a metal monster with a belly reddened by flames.

The forge’s oven.

The familiar clang of hammer on iron reached her ears, followed by the hiss of steam as it was dipped in the slack tub. The hylian was immediately transported back in time, remembering the workshop in Akkala and the days she spent as a young girl observing Teacher in her workspace.

Maiya was but a novice then, but the silver-haired woman was always in her element. She could recall watching her mentor hammer out a swordsman’s blade, forgetting her notes and daydreaming instead of the moment she would finally decipher the secrets of the anvil and impress the Sheikah Enchanter with her first proper weapon.

Except you failed her, she thought bitterly. No matter how hard you try to make amends, your dagger has rejected its master. And in that, you have failed your purpose.

Maiya blinked back into reality, the figure she saw standing in the middle of the forge no longer her mentor. No, Maiya realised. The person holding a cooling blade in the air wasn't even rito.

Seeing her step into the room, the smith rested the blade on the edges of a clay bath. As they lifted the protective mask obscuring their face, Maiya's eyes caught a teal fin peeking from behind it. A fish? Her mind stuttered.

The mask was lifted further, revealing a lean face and sharp smiling teeth. They stood with a straight back, posture impeccable as they smoothed their leather apron over.

A zora!

“Good evening, Traveler,” they said, voice soft and polite as small bells. They looked at her calmly, golden eyes serene. Maiya’s eyes caught the intricate silver ornaments decorating the side of their face, hearing them clink as they removed the mask entirely.

The zora angled their head higher, finally seeing the person behind her. “What a surprise, Master Revali.”

“Uleh.” The rito nodded curtly.

Maiya looked between the two of them. She noticed some soot staining the Zora's arms and cheeks, painting their shining scales a smoky grey.

Coughing into a closed fist, they cleared their throat. “Apologies for earlier. I’m not sure what’s gotten into Mister Yieni this evening. He is usually more accommodating, but I theorise that the wine might have been more potent than usual."

"You're his assistant?" Maiya asked.

"An Artificer." They corrected. “You could say I’m on...an extended industrial study tour.” The zora smiled to themself, enjoying their own inside joke, before bowing low. “I welcome you, Enchanter. It has been many years since someone of your vocation has stepped foot in ‘Jackdaw’s. I would offer my palm for the greeting but,” they raised both their gloved hands, “I must keep these on for the time being. There is much work that needs to be done.”

Maiya blinked, still bracing herself for the anger that ultimately never materialized. “Hold on. You know I’m an Enchanter? Why then...why haven’t you yet—”

“Kicked you out as Mister Yieni had?”

“Yes.”

“I hold no quarrel against you or your people.” They said, beginning to coat the blade in clay, expertly avoiding its edges. “In fact, I want to help you.”

The Enchanter did not immediately celebrate, silent for a moment and lost to her own thoughts. As much as she was happily surprised by this stranger’s willingness to assist her, she was once again hit by a gut-punching suspicion that had been plaguing her mind since she left the village’s library.

She was slowly learning that there’s always some sort of catch.

"And what exactly does this help entail?" Revali asked, reading into her discomfort.

"Simple,” Uleh said, gently painting the finishing touches of the clay coating with a brush. "I need you to extract a rare ingredient the forge has been lacking in for awhile. After you’ve done that, I can arrange a meeting.”

Maiya shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unconvinced. “How can you be sure he would want to converse with me in the first place?”

Uleh chuckled, clipping the blade into a wooden holder to dry. "Mister Yieni can be ill-tempered, prejudiced and especially cantankerous, but he will always honour a good deal." The zora looked up at her, golden eyes gleaming. "Find him that ingredient, offer it in exchange for information, and he will answer whatever you ask him."

Maiya eyed the silver jewellery framing Uleh’s face, thin and long sheets twisted like intermingling spirals. Ultimately, it would be within her best interest to trust them. She’d just have to roll with the punches and accept the consequences of what was to come after that. She could compare her situation to skipping stones. Nothing left but to cast the rock and count the ripples from the sidelines.

Your willingness to trust will get you trouble one day, my dear. Her mentor’s ever serious voice echoed warningly.

The hylian rubbed her eyes, too tired to argue with herself anymore. Grab the ingredient and strike a deal. Easy. She thought to herself. It's okay. It will be okay. That just leaves me with...

Gazing up, she flashed Revali a tentative grin. The sharp lines of the rito’s face softened a fraction, then fell back into its default haughty glare as he looked away. "What is it?" He asked sourly.

"...are you going to help me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, I'm going regardless."

Revali sent her a knowing look. "And you will probably encounter trouble along the way.

The hylian shrugged, unbothered. "It's not a given but with the increase of monster activity out there, coupled with some Yiga sightings, I probably will—"

"Then the answer is obvious."

"You don't have to be rude about it."

"You shouldn't ask moronic questions you know the answer to."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

Maiya shook her head, turning back to the zora who was still patiently waiting for her answer. She cleared her throat, trying to regain whatever professional dignity she'd shed in the past minute. “If it will grant me an audience with the Blacksmith, then I'll do it."

Uleh's face broke out into a smile. “Fantastic.”

Rising from their sitting position, the zora picked the blade up with their iron tongs, carrying it back to the oven. As they plunged it back into the red hot embers, the fire casted dancing lights and shadows against their teeth, drawing Maiya’s attention as they spoke their next words.

“Now onto business. Have you ever heard of a Frost Talus, Enchanter?”

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