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guaxinimraccoon · 3 years

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jesus christ why-

oh mY DEAR GOD-

FIRST OF ALL I'm SO sorry for taking so damn long to answer those, I've been really really busy and I'm very sorry, I'm doing my best to answer everybody ; o ;

BUT FINALLY let's talk about our big last Euphoria reveal (about four months ago but ok-), where I showed you guys that Alex is Brad's father and Elisa is Toby's mom.

"BUT GUAX WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? HOW?? WHEN??? WHERE??"

SHUSH , CALM YOUR TITS DOWN and let me explain:

Ok, so I'll be putting some links here and there because yes, Alex and Elisa's story is very, VERY connected to Brad and Toby's.

And get ready for a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long post. You were warned.

As you all already know, Alex and Elisa had a troublesome meeting, but eventually got closer to each other, they fell in love yadda yadda yadda BUT their will to get closer to each other, in other words, their relationship brought HUGE consequences.

Yes, they did manage to build a healthy relationship, they were happy, they were fine.

But they were also adults, adults that wanted something serious and concrete, they couldn't spend the rest of their lives as forbbiden lovers.

So Elisa did something literally illegal. She did a potion that was forbidden by the Colony authorities - a shrunken potion - to get closer to Alex.

Those potions were never developed, they're rustic and really antique, so they could do more harm than good or not work at all.

But Alex didn't care, he took the risk and drank the potion to get closer to his girl, the woman that was the love of his life.

The effect of the potion is temporary, so Alex would drink them from time to time whenever he had the opportunity to visit the Colony, spend some time with Elisa and, of course, be a part of her life.

He wasn't just trying to "be like her", he was also trying to be a part of her home. He made friends with her friends, he met her family, he met new imps, new fairies, all of it under his "imp disguise". He even fought for the Colony at it's war times (that is lasting till the current story time). He EVEN presented himself with a more “impish name” - Turk - to make sure people wouldn’t suspect anything.

Of course, people eventually started to ask why didn’t he live in the Colony with Elisa, why did he only showed up from time to time. Alex and Elisa lied, obviously, they told everyone that Alex belonged to a secluded imp tribe that lived walking around the forest as nomads, which made sense since those types of imp communities do exist.

ANYWAY THE POINT IS Alex grew affectioned of those people and with their lifestyle. He started to feel like he was one of them.

And, of course, he was now closer than he ever was to Elisa.

Since they were different species, they never worried about having kids. I’ve never said this before but Alex is a doctor, he knows about this stuff, so he always made sure to reassure Elisa that "they were their own condon" and, as sad as it may sound, they couldn't have kids.

... Or so Alex thought.

You know how tigers and lions can have offspring together? Yeah, it's the same thing.

It's very hard to happen, but they spent YEARS together if you know what I mean so yeah

That's how Alex and Elisa gave birth to their first child: Tobias, the only one of a specie that is a mix between human and imp.

His parents were really worried at first, afterall, they new NOTHING about Toby's condition. They didn't know if he was going to grow as large as a human or if he'd assume imp proportions forever. After some research with his son's blood, Alex found out that Toby was indeed half human and half imp, but he was predominantly physically an imp. That means his biological features are, mostly, imp like: he'd hardly grow as large as a human through his life's course and could live as a normal imp in the Colony. The fact that he showed talent for magic (once he was old enough to do so) and was able to do it just like any other imp in the Colony also made things easier.

Elisa and Alex chose to raise Toby in the Colony, they believed it’d be healthier and safer for him (especially after some events that I’ll be talking about in other posts), although it hurt Alex to pretend that he was an imp to his son and that he couldn’t see him everyday.

Even if they couldn’t see each other everyday, Alex and Toby were very close. Toby loved his daddy very much and was very attached to him.

After five years after Toby was born, Elisa got pregnant again and gave birth to their second child: Bernardo (that’d eventually be nicknamed as “Brad”), one of the two only beings of the specie Alex and Elisa accidently created together.

For preucation, Alex took a bit of Brad’s blood and made some research, just like he did to Toby.

And what he found out wasn’t exactly... relieving.

Brad, just like Toby, was half human and half imp, but he had expressed mostly human features in his physical body. He was as small as a baby imp now, but it was a matter of time until he started to grow very VERY large.

Unlike Toby, Brad couldn’t live as an imp in the Colony and things got very complicated for them.

Alex wanted to leave. He told Elisa the Colony’s community would NEVER accept their youngest, they would never accept Alex and probably wouldn’t accept Toby either. They had to leave that place before they couldn’t hide the truth anymore, even if it cost revealing Toby, a five year old child, that most of his life was a lie.

But Elisa was hesitant. She didn’t want to leave her home, her parents, her friends. She knew Alex was right, they couldn’t stand that play for too long, but how to leave everything she had built behind? How to leave everything she knew as home behind? It wasn’t that easy.

Until something very bad happened.

Remember I said Alex made a few friends in the Colony? So, one of them was Stefan, a experienced fairy soldier that had known Elisa for as long as she was alive. He was pretty much her best friend (even if he was old enough to be her father) and now he was also great friends with Alex.

Stefan is important here. He has a very tragic backstory involving humans. He lost pretty much everything to them: his whole family and his wings, something that meant more than just flying to him.

So, as expected, he hates humans and truly believes that they are nothing more than monsters that try to manipulate you and to get advantage from imp’s and fairy’s magic.

After some years, he started to get very suspicious over Alex. Some things weren’t making any sense anymore and that “nomad imp community” was starting to sound way more like an excuse than the actual truth. He simply didn’t understand what was stopping him to live with Elisa and his sons for once.

So he did some investigation. One day, he followed Alex (that he knew as Turk) out of the Colony, in one of the days he had only come to visit his family. Alex had said earlier that he had to “go back to his own society”. Yeah, right. Stefan was hiding the whole time and followed Alex till a good distane from the Colony’s limits.

And he didn’t get exaclty happy to see his best friend growing impossibly huge out of nowhere.

Stefan now knew the truth: Alex was pretending to be an imp using shrinking potions. He didn’t belong to any nomad imp group, he was a human that lived in his own house and was coming to the Colony to play family with them.

Of course, he didn’t only felt betrayed, but pissed as fuck. Stefan didn’t waste any time: as soon as Alex came back to the Colony he confronted him. Alex tried to explain himself, but they only argued and ended up having a pretty bad fight.

In anger, Stefan didn’t want to hear no more explanations, so he told some of the Colony’s high authorities about Alex’s lies and that they had to do something about it.

The Colony’s Council decided to call Elisa and solve things between imps and fairies only. But they showed her no mercy.

They basically gave her two options: or she’d prove her loyalty to the Colony and would kill her husband and her human son, or the Colony would sentence all of them to death penalty, including Toby and Brad, children that they claimed should have never been born.

Elisa was in shatters. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t kill the man she loved and her baby child, she just couldn’t. She was about to accept the second option, rathering die with her family than killing them, but Stefan decided to help her out.

He wasn’t expecting the Council to be so cruel and he started to regret his decisions the moment he saw how Elisa was worried about her family and how much she loved them, even if they were human. He hated Alex and Brad, but seeing Elisa in excruciating pain over them was impossible for him, so he made up a plan with her to save everybody.

It cost Elisa to trust Stefan, he had told their secrets to the worst people possible, but she had no option aside from accepting his help and following his plan.

The plan was simple: Elisa would tell the Council she’d kill Alex and Brad and would tell Alex that she had changed her mind and that they should leave the Colony as soon as possible now that Stefan knew the truth.

Alex believed her and, after Stefan’s confirmation, so the Council did. The next step was to take Alex and Brad to the Colony’s limits, pretending they were about to leave.

Then it happened.

Elisa made, with Stefan’s help, a huge barrier on the Colony’s frontier that didn’t allowed humans to cross it. It was basically a security method that they never thought it’d be necessary.

But now it was and it wasn’t meant to protect the ones inside the Colony...

Of course, Alex didn’t understand SHIT.

He spent MONTHS returning to the Colony in his shrinking form, trying to find a way to cross the barrier and to get Toby back.

Or to talk to Elisa.

Or to understand.

Or anything.

He just wanted his family.

Eventually, his potions ended and he was left to raise Brad on his own and to never see his wife and oldest son again.

Since then, he hates Elisa. Or at least thinks he does. He’s just deeply mad at her, he doesn’t understand why she left them.

He did everything for her. Denyed his own race, submitted himself to the dangerous effects of a extremely nocive potion which he faces the consequences till this day, did his fucking best to be the best father and husband his family could have-

All this love, all this effort, all this sweat and blood

Wasted.

It took years for him to fully recover. Aside from the health problems the abusive use of the shrinking potions brought, he also became alcohoolic. Because he wasn’t mentally estable enough, neither to take care of himself and of his very very small son, he went to live in his parents house. His family knew about Elisa and the children they had together, his folks actually liked her a lot so it saddened them as well that she simply abandoned Alex and Brad and that they would never see Toby again.

His family didn’t had to worry about Brad’s very little size for too long though, before he was one year old he had already reached his human size.

Anyway, Alex’s family gave him a huge help until he was healthy enough to take care of Brad, the only one left from the family he built.

Back to Elisa, she didn’t told Alex her plan because she KNEW he wouldn’t want to do it. She simply knew Alex would be too stubborn. He’d have wanted to try to escape or to face the Council. Both alternatives would get them all killed.

Toby didn’t understand why his mother did what she did. He was forced to go back home with her, screaming the whole time, saying that they left his father and brother behind while Elisa was crying endelessly.

Stefan came to them eventually and calmed Toby down. His heart broke when he saw Elisa. She was... not okay.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to assist her. He immediatly went to a representent of the Council and took them to Elisa and to the Colony’s frontier to prove that she had done it and did even more than she was suppose to. Of course, not without consequences to her sanity, she had just killed her husband and baby, of course she was in pain.

Nevertheless, the Council confirmed Elisa had done her part and left to leave her alone with the child they let live.

After that, Toby spent weeks returning to that spot of the frontier to look for his dad and brother. No sucess.

As time went by, he eventually forgot about Brad, he was very young when they tore apart and Elisa and Stefan never talked about him nor Alex. All he can remember is that there was a baby in the middle of that mess, but he can’t relate to it.

He kept the memories of his father though, who was closer to him, and till this day he believes he’s alive somewhere and that he can be found. But he has no idea he’s a human and has no idea of his own true nature.

Elisa and Alex miss their respective sons deeply and think about them everyday. They also miss each other very much and the first months after the incident were terribly agonizing for the both of them.

They kept going for the child that had remained for the both of them and raised them apart from each other. Alex never told Brad what happened and so Elisa did to Toby. Like that, none of the brothers knew about the existence of each other.

Until the day Toby was sent, coincidentally, to his “little” brother’s house

And none of them has no idea of this fucking long backstory I just spent four months writing :)

enjoy

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

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My Heart Beats | Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Synopsis:

You're dying, all because of the love that Seo Changbin has for someone else.

Genre: hanahaki au! Lots of angst, little fluff, Chan is a good wingman. Happy ending!

----

There was a lot of coughing, at first.

You weren't exactly sure why your throat scratched so badly that it burned like it was on fire, only downed a few cough drops with the hope that it'd go away after a few days. You told yourself that maybe if you waited it out long enough, it would go away by itself and you wouldn't spend nights lying in bed, practically curling in on yourself as you tried to keep the coughing to a minimum.

It didn't get better.

Of course, the first few times you'd cough into your sleeve, your close friend and classmate Changbin would ask you if you were sick -- with that disgruntled frown that only you could decipher as concern -- but you had merely shaken your head then before batting away his worries with a brush of your fingers.

It had escaped your notice, how your throat clamped up whenever he was close by, how you would suddenly erupt whenever he would play with your hair or brush some dust off your shoulder.

"Seriously Y/N, go see a doctor or something," he said one day after your Photograohy seminar where you had spent three quarters of it muffling your coughs. That had garnered you numerous dirty looks from your classmates, "maybe you're developing an allergy."

"It doesn't come all the time," you replied breathlessly while plastering a smile on your face.

He wasn't convinced.

And then, when you stumbled upon him in the cafeteria sitting across from a girl you'd seldom met before, that had been the last straw.

You had barely managed to make it to the toilet, hand cupped against your mouth and running like your life depended on it, stumbling into the nearest stall to empty the contents of your stomach.

Only, it wasn't.

You watched, horrified, as blood poured out of your mouth like a gushing waterfall filled with bits and pieces of broken branches, plant stems, petals. You couldn't tear your eyes away from it no matter how much you tried, chest heaving and breaths ragged as you gazed at the mess in the toilet bowl with the slow realization sinking into you.

Hanahaki.

You were dying. You were dying because plants were now growing into your heart, taking over your lungs and your body.

That was when you got a second realization:

That you were in love with Seo Changbin. And he was clearly in love with someone else.

------

"Long time no see.”

You jolted from your seat, head whipping up and partly expecting to see the said raven-haired man that you had been avoiding most week to be standing there with a scowl on his face. Instead, you were genuinely surprised to find one of his closest friends instead.

Chan looked down at you with furrowed brows and from the way his eyes skimmed over your features, you guessed he was seeing the side effects of the hanahaki just as much as you were, “jesus, Y/N. Are you sick or something?”

“Bad cold,” you faked a laugh, quickly scrambling to cover the book title currently spread open for him to see, but Chan hd quick reflexes, arm sneaking underneath yours to yank the said book out of your arms and ignoring your protests.

He read the title once, twice. Flipped a few pages, frown growing so deep on his face that his eyebrows were practically kissing at the centre, and you were about to make a joke out of it -- to make light of the situation -- when his eyes snapped back up to you. And what you saw in them caused all jokes to die upon your tongue.

“What is this, Y/N?”

You tried to ignore the shakiness in his alto, or the emotion blazing through his dark irises. Your chest hurt with that same familiar ache you had grown accustomed to over the days, causing you to look away as you murmured out your reply:

"What it says it is.”

It was useless to lie. Chan was sharp. There’d be no use lying to him.

He sucked in a breath and you quickly scrambled out, “don’t tell Changbin.”

Brown orbs boring into yours for a few seconds too long, you forced yourself to return his gaze with a pleading look of your own, and it seemed like he figured it out for himself for he merely dropped his eyes before looking away.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he murmured, “It’s Changbin.”

Your head bowed. Your silence said everything. His breath hitched, grasping your shoulder so that you turned to face the wetness of his eyes as tears brimmed at the corners, “stop it. You can stop it right? There’s got to be a cure for that now.”

Oh, how it would be wonderful to believe there was even a cure. But the only solution was surgery and even that came with its risks. Plus, extracting the hanahaki from your heart meant to erase Changbin altogether from your life and as much as it killed you literally to be existing in this state every single day, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving behind all the memories that you and Changbin had built together.

Thankfully, Chan wasn’t forceful in his argument when you pleaded that you felt more comfortable dealing with this alone. He did, however, constantly check up on you on days where you looked especially gaunt, when the pouches under your eyes were so blue he feared that they would swallow up your whole face, or when he noticed how you left your lunch untouched, opting to sip silently on your soy milk instead.

“Who is she?” You had asked once, your soprano barely above a raspy whisper, as your eyes trailed over Changbin’s figure leaning in towards what the girl was saying.

“Her name’s Yoreum,” Chan had mumbled through mouthfuls of his meat sandwich, “apparently she’s a transfer student from Japan, and very interested in Changbin.”

“Good for him, I guess,” you mumbled.

A minute later, you excused yourself to the bathroom, palm halting the trickle of blood from your lips.

You weren’t exactly certain how this disease worked. Was it due to your inner feelings? Or did it depend on Changbin’s? Or both? The books you read had told you endless tales of varying consequences and different situations, which didn’t help the matter in the least. In fact, it left you even more in the dark, if that was possible.

You knew that it would be impossible to avoid Seo Changbin forever for once he set his mind to something, it was a force not to be reckoned with. You had kept up a stream of excuses about being sickly and that it was exams season. But all your efforts were futile after a few weeks when you spotted the said man standing at the front of your apartment complex, tapping his feet to keep the coldness of spring at bay.

You had half a mind to run away, drop everything and just make a dash for it. But Changbin spotted you before you could do anything and he closed the gap between you two in less than three strides, quickly encapsulating you in a hug.

Your breath hitched. The itch was back, your throat tingling like crazy. You paused for a few seconds and allowed his scent to overwhelm you, before pushing him away to cough into your sleeve.

“Damn Y/N. Chan was right. You really are sick.”

"Wha--" you tried to force the itch down your throat, "are you doing--"

Your body jerked as you felt it give way to the pain that twisted your torso in two and you turned away just in time to clamp a hane over your mouth as you coughed like there was no tomorrow.

Warm liquid splattered over your palm. The metallic stench of blood filled your nostrils.

"Y/N," Changbin made a move towards you, "are you--"

Holding up a hand, you felt him halt as another round of coughs ripped through your already-dry throat. You didn't realize that your legs gave out at some point until a pair of hands quickly grasped the back of your elbows, and though you wished to push him away, pain rippled through your body as you all but collapsed to the floor, blood and branches and petals splattering onto the ground.

You didn't have to look at his face to know that his body was tensed in shock, frozen as he took in the sight before him. Scrambling for words, they all died at the back of your throat when you glanced over at his clenched jaw, the slow reality that blooms through his dark pupils.

Silence filled the air.

“What--” he choked up, “is this?”

You opened your mouth to answer, closed it when you couldn’t find anything. Before you, Changbin’s fists curled, clenching at his sides as he surveyed the mess of blood and dried up flowers.

"Tell me this is not what I think it is,” he whispered.

Still, you said nothing.

“Tell me!” He bellowed.

“Changbin, I--” another round of coughs made your body twist on itself as you struggled to answer him, maybe lie through your teeth even though it was too late, “I can explain--”

“Explain what?! That you’re dying?!” he swivelled around with barely restrained anger and that made you flinch back, “you kept this from me?! Why?! Tell me Y/N--”

But his shouts were drowned out by your endless coughing and heaving, leaning forward to choke out a few petals dripping with fresh blood onto the ground. Your mind was swirling with excuses, trying to come up with the stupidest reasons as to why your body was behaving this way and maybe telling him that it was all due to someone else who couldn’t love you back. But the more you tried to fight the urge to throw up, the more you kept on gagging on your own blood.

Arms came around your middle to lift you up, Changbin’s scent surrounding your figure as he managed to haul you to your feet and half-carry you inside your flat. It wasn’t until your body was laid down on the couch that you managed to utter out a soft “thank you”, which sounded more like an apology than anything else.

Changbin grunted, momentarily going out of your peripheral and returning with a sac plastic, in case you had anything more to cough out, which warmed your heart despite the cold harsh truth lingering before your very eyes. A truth that you knew had to be verbalized, sooner or later.

“Who is it?”

His question caught you off-guard. Glancing up, your throat constricted at the way he gazed back at you, eyes dark and glossy with emotion.

Dropping your head to the floor, you mumble out something incoherent. You wished he could drop it.

“Who is it?” he growled.

Your jaw clenched. There was no escaping him, nothing could salvage the situation. So you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, before finally looking up at the raven-haired man sitting opposite you.

“It’s you.”

His anger dissolved into shock. He stared you down, mouth parted, for a few seconds.

When he spoke next, his words were barely above a murmur, “what?”

He was staring at you as if you had just grown out a second head. But as much as you felt like flinching away, you kept your eyes steady, even when they welled up with tears, even when they burned from the way you caught sight of his expression slowly crumbling as the realization sank into his bones.

“You’re joking,” he whispered mostly to himself as he shook his head, “no. It’s not--What? It can’t be me, unless--”

“I love you.”

His eyes snapped back to you and your breath stilled in your throat. The buzzing silence in the air twisted, thick with tension and from the remnants of your words that echoed in the distance between your bodies.

“But--” Changbin opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. His frown deepened and his silence conveyed the inner conflict going on through his brain as you sat there with your world crumbling apart, wishing that he didn’t leave you for the last few days of your existence.

You’d be gone all too soon. And then, and then life would go on. Changbin would go on. After all, he deserved to be loved by someone whom his heart desired.

“I love you,” you repeated, the words breaking against your parted lips and tearing at your heart with every shaky inhale. You squeezed your eyes shut before burying your face into one of the couch pillows in hopes that this moment would just disappear, in hopes that this was all a well-constructed nightmare.

It felt like an eternity before you heard the rough alto of Changbin’s voice. It was choked, like he was having a hard time keeping himself together and though you wished to do something to ease his pain, you also knew that if you took a look at him, you’d crumble in seconds.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The sentence echoed through your ears, pain tugging at your heartstrings with every second that passed.

Without looking at him, you answered in a whisper, “because it’s not your fault.”

"Not my fault?” His voice rose in anger, “not my fault? How is this not my fault? You love me, you’re dying because you love me. How--Fuck Y/N! How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?! I--”

“Please,” your broken soprano flies out between you like a needle that hits him straight in the heart, “please. Not now.”

If there was any reason why you hadn’t wanted to tell the said man straight up about the hanahaki was exactly for that reason; you loathed the idea of having Changbin beat himself up for the feelings that tormented your heart. It wasn’t his fault, but knowing the kind of person that he was, you were certain he’d feel guilty about not returning your feelings.

But that wasn’t what you wanted. Not just some half-hearted love. Not a love that got drawn out from pity. You didn’t want him to love you, if that meant that he lost himself in the process.

All you wanted, prayed for, was his happiness.

And that wasn’t you, as harsh as that was of a pill to swallow.

------

You woke up the next day to find Changbin still on the couch, sleeping where you had left him last evening to hide in your bedroom. When you’d gently lulled him out of sleep, he’d proceeded to make some breakfast while chatting about the most random things and quite frankly, ignoring the elephant in the room. It came to the point where you had snapped and asked what were his true intentions. To which he answered, as though it was the simplest solution:

“I’m spending some time with my best friend,” he’d glanced over at you from his breakfast plate filled with eggs and sausages, “isn’t that obvious?”

“But--”

“Y/N, you’re not the only one who cares about this relationship,” Changbin looked away, before looking back with tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes, “if I can’t change my heart, then I’ll change the way I spend my time.”

You tried again, “I don’t want your pity--”

“Unless you want me to feel guilty for the rest of my life.”

“You’re..." you watched him, unsure of what exactly was going on inside that head of his. Sometimes, his logic didn’t add up.This was one of those times, “now you’re making me feel guilty.”

“Do you not want me around?”

It seemed that your condition might have shaken him up more than you initially thought. His presence had always been a constant and yet up until now, he’d been busier, schedules more packed with activities and socializing with his other course mates whenever he had blocks of free time. He’d lock himself in his studio alone whenever inspiration struck and though you had always respected his personal space, there was no denying that some part of you missed him deeply. But it wasn’t like you could tell him that, knowing that it would merely be selfish of you to do so.

“That’s not what I--”

“Thought so,” and he got up from the table, signalling that the conversation was a case closed and dusted before directing himself towards the sink. You’d only dipped your head back towards your plate, trying hard not to let the heat colour your cheeks the way it always did whenever you found your best friend attractive. It had been getting harder and harder to stop yourself from reacting, and now that your feelings were out in the open, you hoped that Changbin would play along and ignore them altogether.

Now though, now was different. Changbin actively sought you out; in the library he’d bring you cappuccinos with almond milk and an extra coffee shot just as you liked before sitting down to ‘study’ opposite you, he’d call you up at the most random times to chill at your flat even if that meant basking in hours of comfortable silence while you worked side by side. He’d even drag you to the studio with him, adamant on making you listen through his countless tracks with excuses that he needed a second opinion.

"I have questionable taste. You of all people should know that,” you would argue whenever he’d fight to place the headphones over your ears. You let him though, enjoying the warmth of his figure whenever he leaned over yours to fiddle with the headset.

“Exactly why I want you to listen,” Changbin’s voice was muffled and yet, the way his breaths brushed against your ear caused your stomach to tingle.

You wished to believe that his attention was intentional, that it came to him as naturally as breathing. But you knew it wasn’t. Because as soon as he’d walk away from you, you had to rush to the nearest bathroom to cough up more and more flower stems ceremoniously.

And it was okay, really. It was bearable. You were happy enough to have him for a little while, even though you knew it would last up until the day you closed your eyes for the last time.

Once, he’d invited you over to make sushi -- he’d claimed beforehand that he was a good sushi roller and that this was just an excuse to flaunt his skills -- and he’d dragged you out to the supermarket with him, threatening that you wouldn’t be getting any of the salmon if you didn’t. So you’d reluctantly followed, complaining along the way as you trailed after him like a five-year-old child.

It was when you were in the middle of looking at the salmon that you were suddenly overtaken with that familiar burn in your throat. Doubling over and trying to breathe as evenly as possible, you turned away from the food display just in time to cough up blood in your palm.

Changbin was at your side in an instant, hands circling your middle while murmuring his concern in your ears while you tried forcing down the pain slowly brimming over your mouth. At this point, you hadn’t realized that your best friend had slid you into his arm while he’d yelled at everyone to get the fuck out of the way, not until you were met with the outside air and was suddenly slammed by a round of coughing that just wouldn’t stop.

You felt Changbin’s hands against your back, stroking soft circles as you coughed and coughed and coughed. Blood splattered over your clothes, on the ground, dribbled down your chin in a stream filled with flower petals and stems that grated against your lips.

The more you coughed, the more flowers appeared. You noticed tulips, roses, daisies as well now. Those were new, you thought bitterly as you heaved.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since, nor how you found yourself pressed against Changbin’s chest with your head tucked under his chin. He held you softly, tenderly, and you didn’t have the self-restraint to stop the silent tears from dribbling down your chin.

You loved him.

You didn’t want to die.

“That’s a pretty big bouquet you just made,” came his soft murmur in the shell of your ear, causing a faint smile to twitch at your lips. Indeed, the array of flowers littering the ground would’ve been nothing less of beautiful, if not for the large amount of blood that you had just lost.

“Changbin,” you breathed out weakly.

“Hm?”

"I’m...” your head lolled against his neck when you tried to look up at him but failed, “I’m sorry.”

His body stilled. Then, he said, “what for?”

“For taking away your time,” your voice was thick with emotion.

“You’re not. I spend my time however I want,” his hold tightened, “if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”

Still. You felt bad. You opened your mouth to apologize once more, only for him to beat you to it by pressing a finger to your lips.

"Don't," he said, "apologize."

Fire had seeped from his finger to litter across your cheeks and you were glad that your face was hidden from view, for you were bound to be the colour of a fire engine, no doubt about that.

Later, when your heart had calmed and your throat had been soothed with hot chocolate, he'd pulled you out into the rooftop and proceeded to sit you down onto his jacket so that you could gaze out at the cityscape.

"Beautiful," you murmured and took a sip of your drink, allowing the warmth to spread through your limbs. Spring weather was ambiguous that way; sometimes cold, sometimes bearable.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

Changbin took a sip of his beer, "is there anything you'd like to do?"

"What do you mea--"

It dawned on you then. Oh.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

He angled his head towards you, "will you tell me?"

A smile graced your features, though you hoped he didn't notice how it didn't reach your eyes, "sure."

All you wanted though, all your yearned for, was for him.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

A little later during that same week, you had taken the chance to ask him about the girl he loved. He'd brought you over to the Han River to show you how to skateboard and as you sat in the grass admiring the sun setting over the horizon, you decided to buckle up the courage and blurt out what was haunting your mind for days on end.

"What's her name?"

"Huh?" Changbin had looked at you like you'd really gone crazy then, before you prompted him with, "the girl you like. What's her name?"

He tried not to squirm in embarrassment, and failed as he averted his eyes, "i don't like her," you heard him mumble under his breath, "I just think she's cute."

"Yeah yeah. What's her name?"

"Why should I tell you?" He threw you a scowl, "so that you can make fun of me?"

"It's one of the things on my list."

"What list?"

"List of things I want to do," you propped your chin into your hands and grinned teasingly, "and that's asking you about the girl you like."

He let out an annoyed sigh, "Yoreum."

"Wah, pretty name. What's she like?"

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Why not?" You pouted, "I'll cheer you on even in spirit."

"Don't," he snapped back so suddenly, "talk like that."

Blinking at his sudden change in demeanour, you decided it was wiser to drop the subject altogether, lest it agitated him more. Changbin was known for his moody temperament but he'd been quite generous with you these past few weeks. Maybe because he knew that there was going to be an end. The thought caused another ache to reverberate through your chest and you looked away, not knowing on which foot to dance on for the rest of the night.

As you were walking back home, you felt his eyes constantly glance at the way you kept on blowing air into your hands, "you cold?"

"Huh? Oh no, I--"

Too late, for his hand reached out to engulf yours, bringing it over to stuff it in his jacket. You stared at him for a full minute as your heart skipped a beat. What...was that?

It was cold. That's why. He was just trying to be a gentleman, your brain kept on reasoning with you.

Your heart though, was saying otherwise. Maybe he likes you! Maybe he’s realized that--

You coughed. Once, twice. And then, you were falling to your knees as petals fell onto your shirt and dropped stained your clothes, your lap. Everything. Metallic rust engulfed your nose and you gratefully accepted the tissue that your best friend offered you.

“You good?” his breath brushed against your cheek, concerned orbs ablaze.

You wished you could get over him. You wished you could steer your heart away.

You nodded weakly, wiping away the remnants of blood and wishing that you could die right then and there from the embarrassment of being so openly weak and disgusting when he was around.

But he merely grabbed the tissue from your hold and proceeded to wipe away at the corner of your lips. Your heart tugged in your chest, relishing in his gentle touches as you allowed yourself to bask in his attention. Even for a little while.

There was no way you could forget Seo Changbin. Even if you tried.

-----

"How are you really?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile dancing across your lips as you exited the library with Chan in tow, “you’re such a worry-wuss.”

“Hey, I’m asking out of concern,” Chan chides in that fatherly manner of his that always made you feel safe somehow, “I never see you around anymore because Changbin steals you away.”

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” you reached out to ruffle his hair before he had the chance to duck away, “you’re still my secret favourite. But don’t tell Changbin that. Otherwise he’ll just sulk for days.”

“You make it sound so tempting,” Chan wriggles his brows in a teasing manner while you strode towards the parking lot. It was a late Friday evening and you had planned to meet up at the nearest Burger joint with Changbin and some of the other boys whom you hadn’t seen in a while and it was no surprise that you had decided to take advantage of Chan a your driver for the night.

“Who else is coming with us?”

“Changbin said he’d come but you know how he is,” Chan re-adjusted his backpack over his shoulder, “maybe we should call him if he doesn’t show up by the time we get to the car.”

Evidently, there was no sign of the said raven-haired man as you walked up to Chan’s red Mazda. That prompted you to call him, only to turn and spot his figure by the main flight of stairs with the girl you now knew as Yoreum.

You waited for that ache. For that burning sensation like alcohol was slipping down your throat, hands clenching around your phone.

The pain was there, you could feel it under your tongue.

But you didn’t cough. Nothing pushed at the back of your trachea.

You blinked, perplexed for a moment. Maybe this wasn’t Yoreum after all?

Or maybe Changbin was forcing himself to suppress his feelings. For your sake?

That wouldn’t make sense. Changbin had said so himself. He wasn’t the kind of person to be forcing himself into situations. That’s what you loved the most about him, after all.

You tried not to ponder over it too much during dinner, hand unconsciously going to your chest and feeling your heart slowly beating under your clothed chest. Weird, you couldn’t help thinking. Why?

Maybe you were dying. Maybe you were going to die.

Or maybe...just maybe, you were slowly moving on.

Impossible.

"So are you dating her or not?”

It was one of your friends-- Felix-- who brought you back to reality, blinking before realizing that the question was aimed at none other than the man whom had preoccupied your thoughts over the last hour.

Changbin leaned over, placing his elbows on the table as he sipped his beer, “we’re not dating.”

“I thought you liked her,” Minho pointed out.

“Can we not talk about this now?” you would’ve missed the way Changbin’s dark orbs flickered over to you if you hadn’t been paying attention. But you did, and that hurt a little bit more than you liked to admit. You loved him, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to know nothing of his personal life either.

Nevertheless, you decided that keeping your mouth shut would not hurt either, knowing that it might trigger some more coughing on your part. Nobody knew after all, that you were slowly being eaten away by plants growing in-between your lungs.

More oftentimes than not, Chan would urge you to go see a doctor, “just to see what the condition’s like,” he’d press you constantly, “you never know. Maybe it's getting better. Maybe you're getting better."

"There's only one explanation for that, Chan. And that would be that Changbin doesn't love Yoreum anymore," you smiled faintly, "and we both know that's not true."

Still, you couldn't help hoping that your condition was a sign that maybe you still had a chance at life. Part of you was curious as to whether there had been a change in Changbin's heart -- maybe even in yours -- but there was no denying the fact that it would be misplaced, especially in the context.

As you found yourself spending more and more time in Changbin's presence, you couldn't help but wonder whether he was pushing Yoreum aside just to accomodate you, and that thought was enough to make you feel guilty.

"Why don't you invite her?" You asked aloud once, when Changbin dragged you along for some bubble tea in the late hours of the evening.

He’d stared at you silently for a solid minute.

"Why would I do that?"

His question threw you off. You shot him a look as the said shop came into view, "isn't it obvious?"

"No."

You stopped in mid-walk, scowled at him, "I don't want you compromising your time."

"I'm not."

"But don't you want to spend time with her?"

At this point, his expression had morphed from confusion to infuriation and if you didn't know better, you'd say he was getting agitated.

He looked away, "I want to spend time with you."

Your heart stuttered, breath suddenly catching in your throat at his blunt statement. You hadn't expected him to be so forward about it, albeit the fact that he was merely speaking in terms of friendship. So you decided to drop the subject for now and kept on pondering it over in your head as you laid to rest that night. Knowing him, those set of words probably didn’t mean much. To you though? It meant everything.

You tried not to let your heart get ahead of yourself.

When it got warm enough, it was Changbin’s idea to drive you up to the coast when you had mentioned that you enjoyed listening to the sound of the ocean waves after a long, hard week. Especially after a long, hard week. It was no surprise that you were touched at his gesture, yet finding it bittersweet how he wasn’t exactly yours to lose even when he was right here, by your side.

There was something nostalgic about knowing that your days were counted, and while you had been feeling a little bit better these past few days, your questions had been answered by the internet; that this was just the calm before the storm.

In other words, there was more chance of you dying than living through that rare disease.

“Say Changbin,” you spoke aloud when you descended from the car, a pack of beer tucked under your arm and a bag of snacks in his while making your way towards the golden beach glimmering in the afternoon sun.

“Hm?” you felt his dark orbs on your face.

You kept looking forward, feeling the sand slip through toes in bliss, “thank you,” you murmured, “for doing this.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. Then, replied, “don’t thank me. You make yourself sound like a charity case.”

Isn’t that what I am? You couldn’t help but think to yourself with bitterness. Settling over a comfortable spot and curling your knees up to your chest, you gratefully accepted the cold beer that Changbin handed to you -- after he’d cracked it open like the gentleman that he was -- and let out a soft breath, eyes finding solace in the waves lapping up the shore.

“How’s your coughing?” he broke the comfortable silence.

“It’s actually not bad,” you started tracing circles with the tip of your index finger in the sand, the roughness of particles slightly stinging your skin, “I haven’t had a bad spell since that supermarket incident.”

He hummed in response, took a sip of his beer, but didn’t say anything in response. The comfortable silence washed over you and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of the sun prickling at your skin, at the scent of salt in the air with every wave that brushed forward with the current.

This was the place to be. For a quiet, waking moment, you could imagine that your life was endless. That you’d live till the very end, die old and wrinkly and with a full stomach.

Your fingers unconsciously clenched around your beer bottle. If only.

If only.

“I know why,” Changbin suddenly blurted out.

Your head swivelled towards him, eyebrow raised, “huh?”

“I know why,” he hesitated, “why you’re not coughing as much anymore.”

Something stirred in your chest as you stared him down, cogs already turning in your brain. What was he getting at?

“I--” was it your imagination or were his cheeks redder than they had been a few minutes ago? You kept on staring him down as he struggled to find the right words, stumbled over them with the clumsiness of a five year old, “I--I realized something. Ever since.”

“Ever since?”

“Ever since you told me you loved me.”

If he was blushing, then you had flushed the colour of a fire engine. God, why did he have to put it so bluntly?

“What--”You swallowed thickly while turning away to gulp down some beer, if not to cool yourself down, “what did you realize?”

And that was when you felt the warmth of his fingers ghost over your chin. He cupped it in his hold, turning your face over so that you had no choice but to clash eyes as he slowly traced over your features with a gaze that seemed to speak volumes. That only caused your confusion to grow by tenfold.

“What?” You spluttered out, not really used to the closeness of his mouth that was hovering dangerously close. You hadn’t realized that his other hand had trailed down to your side until you felt him pull you a little closer, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Cha--Changbin? What--What are you doing?” You all but squeaked out. This was unknown territory. This was Changbin, and he...

He loved someone else.

So why was he cradling you in his hold as though you were the finest piece of silk that he feared would tear apart with the slightest brusque gesture?

And why, oh why was his orbs swimming with that unidentifiable emotion that made your stomach churn and butterflies to erupt through your middle and tickle at your abdomen? Why was he looking at you like that? Why?

Your questions were soon interrupted by the sensation of his mouth on yours.

It was warm, and soft, and tentative, and no sooner did you blink that it was over, leaving you to gape at him like a stupid fish out of the water. Changbin, meanwhile, kept on gazing at you, as if gauging your reaction.

The only thing that managed to make it out of your lips was, “What?”

He allowed his lips to respond in his stead. He kissed your next breath away. And the next. And the next. Until your heart almost leaped out of your chest, until your body felt like it was tingling with electricity all over and until you couldn’t help but kiss back slightly, jumping as he let out a soft noise of approval.

When you pulled apart for air, his dark pupils kept on darting back and forth between your eyes and your open mouth and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was resisting the urge to kiss you once more.

“Changbin?” you whispered, “please tell me...” tears started brimming through your eyes, “please tell me this isn’t...just because--”

“No,” he looked horrified, “no, no Y/N. Of course not--”

“Then why are you doing this?” you were slowly pulling out of his grasp, reality crashing through you like waves, “why are you giving me hope when--when you love someone else--”

“But that’s it, Y/N,” Changbin’s hands scrambled to find yours, “I don’t love anyone else. I--I thought I did. Maybe I did, because you wouldn’t have coughed so much if not. But then--Things changed, I don’t know. When you told me you were dying, it--it scared me. It scared me so fucking much, Y/N,” emotion clogged up his throat, eyes turning just as wet as yours. It wasn’t every day that you got to see Changbin without his walls up, “I didn’t--I don’t want to lose you. I tricked myself into believing I was into someone else. But when that--that happened, I--” he shook his head, eyes squeezing shut as though forcing himself to forget the pain etched into memory, “I realized I was just trying to run away from what I really wanted, all along.”

He brought your hands up slowly to his lips before he pressed a soft, chaste kiss upon your knuckles, “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, “I never wanted to hurt you. Seeing you, so much blood. There was so much blood every time you--”

He couldn’t help but burst into soft, broken sobs and your heart broke to watch him struggle to catch a hold of himself. Arms winding around him to pull him into your embrace, your hands went to stroke the back fo his head as the man in your arms cried like you’d never seen him cry before. It was a scene that literally tore your heart out and wrenched it sideways; to see Changbin in so much pain that he’d had to hold in whenever he was by your side and seeing you hurt. It pained you, it hurt you. So much so that tears silently cascaded down your cheeks, pressing yourself a little closer to him for comfort.

He calmed down after a while, slowly relaxing into your hold so that you were the one holding him close to your chest as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The day was long gone, replaced by the evening hues of deep blue mixing in with vivid purple where the sun met the darkening sky, and though there was a slight chill in the air, Changbin’s strong arms looped around your waist did the trick to keep you warm.

“Don’t leave.”

He called out your name and you hummed in response, awaiting for his next set of words while playing with his hair. The reality of the situation had slowly sunk onto your shoulders when you’d held him in your arms; that he loved you, loved you enough that you had stopped coughing altogether.

His voice was laced with so much raw pain that your throat clogged up with emotion.

“I won’t,” you murmured back, knowing that deep in your heart, you’d try your best to keep pushing forward, to keep loving him.

“Promise me,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck, the action causing your heart to flutter. Then, lifting himself up so that he was hovering above you once more, you couldn’t help but admire the way the moonlight bathed the planes of his face. He looked softer, more ethereal in that light.

Your fingers went up, cradling his cheek in your palm, “I promise.”

And then he kissed you some more; a silent promise, a reassurance, a way to prove to you that he loved you just as much as you loved him, a way to show you that his heart only beat when you were around.

His heart would beat for you, just like yours did.

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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Friends Don't Lie Ch. 5 & 6

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: there will be a scene involving a knife and cutting a body open, I'll put another warning before the part

Based on: Stranger Things

The next morning, Jungwon sneaks into his sister's room and secretly hands you an outfit consisting of an argyle sweater and high waisted jeans.

“What about shoes?” you ask him.

“You’re right.” he says before dashing up the stairs and bringing you a pair of socks and Keds. “Okay remember, leave at eleven fifty and meet us by the fence in front of the gym.” he says and you nod.

You make your way to the school and smile at the group of boys waiting for you.

Jungwon waves at you as you peddle over.

“Hey El!” they all greet you.

“Hi guys.” you say and brake the bike.

Jay climbs up the fence and hops over.

“Here,” he gets onto one knee. “I’ll boost you.”

You shakily step onto his thigh and he spots you as you climb up.

You wobble once you get to the top and let out a yelp. “What do I do now?”

“Twist around and start to climb down.” Sunghoon says.

You attempt the twist but you fail miserably. The fence is about ten feet high. You’ve never been this high off the ground before and it’s freaking you the fuck out.

“I can’t do it.” you say quietly, tears are starting to well in your eyes. This is too much for you to handle.

“Yes you can El, you said you couldn’t ride a bike and look what you did today.” Jungwon says.

You whine and shake your head.

"Even if you fall, it's not that high of a drop." Niki says and Jungwon groans.

"That isn't very encouraging."

You take a deep breath before twisting around and climbing down. Just when you’re starting to feel confident, your shoe gets caught in the metal and you lose your grip.

You scream, awaiting your fall onto the grass when you feel multiple arms catch you.

“Jesus christ,” Sunghoon grunts, his hands are on your underarms, making sure you didn't slam onto the ground.

“Are you okay?” Jungwon scans your body, making sure you're not injured. “Fuck, I should’nt have made you do that, I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay,” you say, still catching your breath.

Jay hops over the fence. “You okay man?” he asks and you nod.

“I’m sorry El.” Jungwon says again.

“It’s okay Jungwon, you apologize too much.” you assure him.

“Let’s get to the heathkit, we don’t wanna waste time.” Jake says.

You all scurry to the main building and sneak into the AV club room.

“Sit here.” Jay pulls up a chair for you right in front of the giant radio.

“Find Sunoo, okay?” Jungwon says. “You can do it.”

You close your eyes. You know what you need to do, you’ve done it many times before, but you’re still scared.

You feel your brain buzz and electrify as you enter the Void.

Your heart goes cold when you see him. His face is pale and his lips are almost blue. All the life has left his pretty face.

“Hyung?! Heeseung hyung?!” his voice comes through the radio and the boys look at each other, paralyzed from shock.

“Hyung please! It’s coming!” Sunoo screams.

“Sunoo can you hear us? Sunoo it’s Jay!” Jay yelps.

“It’s like home, but it’s so dark and cold! It’s dark and empty!” Sunoo shrieks. “Hyung please! I’m scared-”

His screams of terror are cut off by the radio bursting into flames.

“Fuck!” Sunghoon curses as the fire alarm begins to ring.

Your neck lulls. You’re drained like a battery now and Jungwon notices.

“Can you get up?” he puts a hand on your shoulder and you weakly shake your head. “Shit. Jake help her get onto my back.”

Jake tugs you onto your feet and helps you hop onto Jungwon’s back.

Everything is so overwhelming and you’re too tired to refuse his service.

“Where do we even go? We’re fucked if anyone finds out it was us.” Niki says while you all jog out of the building.

“Let’s just skip.” Jay says.

“And go where?”Jungwon grunts.

The sun is shining bright in your eyes and you bury your face into Jungwon’s neck.

“Sunoo was talking to Heeseung hyung, we should go to his house.” Sunghoon says.

Jungwon carries you all the way to the Camaro. They were able to sneak out of school without being noticed thanks to the chaos.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Can you stand now?” Jay asks you once you all arrive at the Kim house.

You shake your head and he picks you up bridal style, just like how Papa used to whenever you were too tired to move.

Jungwon bangs on the door. “Heeseung hyung! It’s me!” The door flies open. There’s a distressed young man at the door, eyeing you before asking Jungwon what was going on.

“We know what’s going on, we can help.” Jungwon says.

Heeseung looks around before ushering you all into the house. And the place is a fucking mess. Beer cans and dirty clothes are scattered on the floor, and most jarring of all, the dozens of strings of Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling and taped onto the walls.

Jay lays you down on the couch.

“Is she okay?” Heeseung nods your way.

“No, she’s out of juice.” Jungwon says.

“Juice?”

“Energy.”

“Okay, so what do you know?” Heeseung sits at the coffee table.

“That Sunoo is in some kind of other world. It’s just like ours but-”

“Upside down.” you croak, cutting Jungwon off.

“Exactly, upside down. He’s hiding from some monster.” Jungwon says.

Heeseung raises a brow. "How do you know all of this."

"Her." Jungwon looks at you.

"Who is she?" Heeseung asks.

"We don't really know," Jake says. "but she knows a lot."

"How?" Heeseung's brows furrow.

"She hasn't told us." Sunghoon says.

"How can you trust her." Heeseung crosses his arms.

"We just can okay?" Jungwon says.

Heeseung shakes his head. "Okay whatever."

"She has super powers." Niki says proudly.

“What?”

“She can… do things.” Jungwon says.

“Like what?” Heeseung asks warily.

“We don’t know everything but so far, she can move things with her mind and communicate through radio frequencies."

“What the fuck.” Heeseung says. “I swear if you’re lying-”

“You have to believe us, she’s our only hope.” Jungwon pleads.

“Okay fine, I’ve seen enough crazy shit already I might as well.” he comes over to sit next to you. “So where are you from?”

“Bad place.” you whisper.

“She’s on the run from bad people.” Jungwon says.

“Bad people?” Heeseung raises an eyebrow. “Who’s bad people?”

“Papa.” you say quietly.

“Who’s Papa?” they all ask.

You shake your head. “Bad.” But also not bad, because you love him. He raised you and taught you everything you know, up until you met Jungwon, who showed you a world you never even imagined.

“So what does she have to do with Sunoo?” Heeseung asks.

“She knows him,” Jungwon says. “We don’t really know how but she knows where he is.”

“Then-”

“But she doesn’t know how to get there.” Jungwon cuts him off.

“How the hell does she know him?”

“I can feel him.” you say. “That body. It’s fake.”

“I knew it was!” Heeseung gets up. “And no one fucking believes me.”

“Well we do.” Jake says. “But we need to confirm it.”

“How?” Jay asks.

“We need to go to the morgue.” Jungwon says.

CHAPTER 6

TW!!! There will be a scene involving a knife and cutting a body open, please do not read if this could be triggering

“There isn’t enough space for all of us.” Niki says.

“We need our strongest people,” Heeseung says. “Jay, Jake, Jungwon and the girl.”

“Her name is El.” Jungwon says.

“The rest of you stay here and if I come back and you smell like whiskey, I’ll fucking kill you.” Heeseung warns.

You feel good enough to walk, but you’re still not one hundred percent. You rest your head on Jungwon’s shoulder in the car as Heeseung zooms to the lab.

“How are we gonna get in?” Jake says. “No one’s gonna let a group of kids into a morgue.”

Heeseung looks back at you. “So what else can you do?”

“She’s not gonna be our guard.” Jungwon shakes his head. “She’s tired.”

“Then who is gonna be our guard?” Jay says and they all look at Jungwon.

“What?” he says.

“Well you've been doing taekwondo since you came out of the womb.” Jake says.

“I cannot fight off adults.” Jungwon asserts.

“You’re all we have.” Jay adds.

“Too dangerous.” you say. “I’ll do it.”

“No,” Jungown refuses. “You’ll get hurt.”

“So will you.” you argue. “We’ll do it together.”

Jungwon takes a deep breath. “Fine.”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“We can’t just go through the front door.” Jay says.

“We have no other choice.” Jungwon says.

“How do we get there without being noticed?”

“I have an idea.” you say.

You all hop out of the car. You stand ground and close your eyes. One of the windows shatters and immediately alarms begin to blare.

“Go go,” you usher everyone to run through the door as the staff are distracted by the window.

“Holy shit.” Heeseung whispers.

“Where is he?” Jay says as you all run through the long halls.

Jake begins to read the tags next to every door. “H, i, j , k.” he stops in this tracks. “This is K, he should be in here.”

He rattles the door knob but it doesn't budge.

You take his hand off the knob and cock your head. You hear the door unlock and you quietly push it open.

You wait for everyone to get inside the dark room before shutting the door behind you.

Jungwon rushes to yank the tarps off of every body, trying to find “Sunoo’s”.

You’re surprised that he isn’t freaking out. Death still scares you even though you’ve seen it many times before.

“Jesus christ.” he whispers, while standing over a body. You all scurry to get a look.

It’s Sunoo. Looking as dead as ever. It looks so much like him. They even got the two moles on his face right.

Heeseung touches Sunoo’s face before taking a pocket knife out of the back of his jeans.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Jay grabs Heeseung’s arm. “What are you doing?”

“We have to make sure.” Heeseung says.

“Isn’t there another way to make sure that’s not cutting him open?” Jay asks, alarmed.

Heeseung shakes his head. He places a steady hand on Sunoo’s shoulder and holds the tip of the blade at his sternum.

You grab Jungwon’s hand as the knife plunges into Sunoo’s skin. You turn your head into Jungwon’s shoulder as Heeseung drags the knife down his chest. He looks away and musters up some courage before sticking his hand into the gash. He freezes.

“What is it?” Jake says.

Heeseung pulls a clump of white fibers out of the wound. The kind that is used for stuffed animals.

“HEY! HEY WHO’S IN THERE!” a voice comes booming through the hall.

“Shit, there’s nowhere to run.” Sunghoon whispers.

You begin to walk towards the door and Jungown grabs at you. You shake him off and push the door open.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING KID?” The man comes running towards you but you lift a hand and send him flying into a wall.

“Holy fucking shit.” Jay smiles in delight.

You gesture for them to run out.

Jungwon’s hand latches onto yours as you all flee the vicinity.

“Get in, hurry!” Heeseung orders as he puts the car into drive.

“That was so fucking cool.” Jungwon beams at you and you smile.

“Seriously, that was wicked.” Jay claps your shoulder.

Jungwon

“So what happened here?” Jungwon twists to look at the wall covered in Christmas lights and messily painted letters of the alphabet.

“Sunoo he…” Heeseung hesitates. “He talks to me through lights.”

Everyone raises their eyebrows.

“I’m not crazy alright?” he runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how it works, but it happened, okay?”

“I don’t get it,” Jay shakes his head. “Tell us what happened.”

Heeseung inhales. “I kept hearing him call my name and seeing crazy shit. I thought I was just in denial but I knew that he was alive, I could feel it in my heart. Then the lights around the house started to flicker all weird which wasn’t that unusual but they kept doing it even after I replaced the bulbs.”

Jungwon’s heart skips a beat when he remembers how the light in his bathroom had flickered the night Sunoo went missing.

“A bunch of other shit happened then I figured that he was trying to talk to me. So I bought a fuck ton of lights and painting this.” he gestures to the alphabet on the wall.

“What was he saying?” Jake asks.

“He said that he isn’t safe and I asked him where he was and he said right here, and then run.” Heeseung says and everyone’s blood goes cold. “And that’s all.”

“So that proves our Upside Down theory.” Jungwon declares. “El said that he’s hiding from something, some monster.”

“I know, I… I think I’ve seen it.” Heeseung says quietly and everyone’s eyes go wide.

“What?” Jay stiffins.

“What’d it look like?” Niki asks excitedly.

“It looked like a human but so many things were wrong. It was so tall and pale and it didn’t.. It didn’t have a face.”

Coldness looms over the group.

“Didn’t have a face?” Jake whispers and Heeseung nods.

“I need to kill that fucking thing.” Heeseung hisses.

“Where’d you see it?” Niki asks.

“It-it stretched the wall. It was pushing through the wall like the plaster was made off pizza dough or something and eventually it broke through. I didn’t know what to do so I just ran out into the car.”

Jungwon can tell how distressed Heeseung is. He has bags under his eyes and his shoulders are caved in instead of tall and broad like they usually are.

“And then I,” he pauses and closes his eyes like he can’t believe what he’s saying. “I kept hearing Sunoo. It sounded like he was in the house so I was running around until I heard him coming from the wall,” he nods at the wall in front of the groups that's been axed in, there’s a gaping hole in it with the sun shining through. “I tore at the wallpaper and the wall was like this weird fogged red glass. I could see him. I asked him where he was and he said that it’s like home, but that it’s cold and dark and empty. I could hear that fucking thing growling so I told him to run. And then the plaster covered the glass and he was gone.”

The boys look at each other in disbelief.

“So El is right.” Jake says.

Sunghoon shakes his head. “I don’t get it. How’d he even get into that dimension?”

“Well dimensions can only be traveled if there’s a tear in time and space,” Jake explains. “Almost like a gate. I think that thing somehow left the gate, took Sunoo, and then went back to the Upside Down.”

“How do we get to the gate?” Heeseung asks.

“We can’t.” Jake says.

“Well why not?” Jay challenges and Jake rolls his eyes.

“Okay, so picture an acrobat on a tightrope where the tightrope is our dimension and we are the acrobat. Our dimension has rules. We can only walk forward and backward right?” the boys nod. “Now let's say there’s a flea next to us. The flea can move forward and backwards like us, but it can also move along the side of the tightrope and even underneath.”

“Why can’t we just become the flea?” Niki says.

“Humans just aren’t capable of doing that, if we tried it’d probably obliterate the Earth.” Jake says.

“How do you know all of this?” Sunghoon snorts.

Jake gives him a smug smile. “Just because I get girls doesn’t mean I’m not smart.”

“I think we already have a flea though.” Sunghoon says. They stare at him for a moment before turning to look at you sleeping peacefully on the couch.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“No way man what if she fucking dies?” Jungwon whisper yells.

“She’s the only one who can do it!” Jay argues.

“Absolutely not.”

“I swear you’re in love with her or something.” Niki jokes and Jungwon punches him in the arm. “Shut up.”

“Just because he cares doesn’t mean he’s in love.” Jake says.

“Thank you hyung.”

“You’re so whipped man.” Jay chuckles cheekily.

“Fuck off.” Jungwon gets up to wrestle him but Heeseung pushes him back down into his seat.

“Shut the fuck up, all of you. You’re stupid bickering isn’t gonna get us anywhere.” Heeseung orders.

“Jungwon and El sitting in a tree~” Niki begins to sing. Jungwon lunges at him over the small dining table and despite being knocked onto the floor, Niki is still laughing.

Heeseung groans and yanks Jungwon off the other boy. “I’m gonna lock you in the shed if you don’t stop.”

Jungwon huffs and Niki winks at him.

You begin to wake and Jungwon hesitates before jogging over to the couch. “You feeling better?” he kneels down beside you and you nod.

He thinks about how cute your sleepy face is before shoving the thought into the back of his head.

“Jake found a way to find the gate.” he says excitedly and the look in your eyes changes. “What’s wrong.”

You shake your head. “You can’t go there.”

“Why not?” he says and you shake your head.

“Too dangerous.” you look down. “You’ll die.”

“But we have to, there’s no other way-”

“No,” you cut his sentence short. “You. Will. Die. I will go.”

“What? No,” He knits his brow. “No way.”

“You don’t know enough.” you say.

“Well can I at least go with you?” he asks. “Heeseung hyung is gonna wanna go, it's his brother.”

You shake your head. “You don’t understand. It’s not like going into a different state. It’s a dimension. And it’s not a nice one.”

He holds your hand in both of his. “Please El. I need to go. Please, I have to.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes and you sigh.

“What if you get hurt?” you say.

“Then I get hurt, it’ll be fine.” he replies.

“What if you die?”

“Then I die.”

You frown. “You’re so foolish.”

“What do you mean?” he pulls away, taken aback.

“Think about your mother, your father, your friends,” you say. “Think about me.”

His heart sinks. He hadn't even considered how the people in his life would feel if something happened to him.

He lowers his lead. “I’m sorry. But I still need to go. What will it take to convince you?”

“If you somehow became immortal.” you say and he snorts.

“Hey, so is she gonna help us?” Jay asks and Jungwon looks at you.

You sigh, and then nod.

taglist: @shawkneecaps @wonwoosh @strwberrydinosaur @ferxanda

#enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #Jungwon angst #enhypen fluff #Jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader

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jessie-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Sunny Outside

I didn’t set out to write all of this while bored at work, yet, here we are. Saying that, I can’t promise this to be amazing, but it’s Frankie fluff so how bad can it be!

This is using the prompt from @221bshrlocked’s writing challenge which can be found here. Thank you so much for letting me take part in this!

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: Mild language. There’s some brief mentions of Frankie running away from problems, but it doesn’t go much deeper than that. Words: 1.2k Prompt: “Bitch…you are an adult.” -- changed it slightly, but the jist is still there! 😄

‘Santi told me.’

Three words and you were sure Frankie was about to pass out.

It had been nearly two months since you last saw him. The longest he had gone ‘missing’ at any given time was five, but at least then he had the decency to call so you knew he was alright. But not this time. This time you had radio silence.

You thought you would be angry when he showed up randomly in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Instead, you weren’t quite sure what to feel. Too many emotions melted together. Mostly you were relieved.

A mug of coffee was shoved into his hand before he even had the chance to sit down. Three more minutes of awkward silence and you had blurted out those words, brown liquid now spilling down his grey shirt.

You were a dick for laughing. You knew Frankie wasn’t the best at talking about his emotions. Showing them, the dude was a king at it! Offer the dude a hug and you weren’t leaving the couch for the next two days! But talking was a whole different ball game though.

And he stared back at you, wide brown eyes swimming with hurt and concern and maybe you shouldn’t have thrown Santi under the bus the way you did.

Frankie’s coughs died down, gulping down a few deep breaths like he had just ran a mile. ‘What did he say?’

‘That you’re in love with someone and that might have been the reason you ran this time.’

He didn’t seem any less terrified, ‘Right.’

‘I’m not mad,’ you started. ‘Okay, I’m a bit mad. I’m meant to be your best friend and you didn’t tell me you’re in love!’

‘I didn’t think it was important.’

‘It’s very important!’

‘Alright, alright,’ even his laugh was shaky, ‘I’m sorry, okay? Please stop yelling at me.’

‘You better be,’ you slumped back against the couch, watching him carefully as he took another sip of the drink, ‘So, you gonna tell me who it is?’

‘It’s a woman.’

‘Cool, great, thanks for that vague as fuck information. Do I know her?’

He conveniently took a giant gulp of his coffee just as you said those words, eyes glancing up at you before quickly adverting and nodding.

Annoyance crept its way in, ‘Why won’t you tell me who it is?’

‘It’s embarrassing.’

‘Is it the Miller’s sister?’

‘What the fuck, no! Why would you think that?’

‘You said it was embarrassing! She’s the only person I can think of that you would be embarrassed to love-‘

‘-I’m not in love with their sister, Jesus-‘

‘-well, either her or Santi’s sister-‘

‘-I’m not in love with Santi’s sister either-‘

‘-But I’m pretty sure she’s married with kids, right?’

‘I’m not in love with my friend’s sisters.’

Frankie sat forward, grabbing both of your hands in his. It was enough to gain your attention and stop your persistent ramblings.

You hated it. No, that was a lie. You hated how much you loved him holding your hands. His roughened skin brushing against yours so gently as he absentmindedly drew his circles with his thumb along the back of your hand.

It was all consuming. Everything about him was intoxicating and it was consuming every piece of you. The touches. His smell. The way he smiled at the way you jumped slightly when he brushed the sensitive skin at your wrist.

It wasn’t a new thing. If it were, you could be sure it wouldn’t have hurt as much, knowing you had been wasting your time while he was off falling in love with someone else.

You ignored the tiny twinge of pain coming from your chest.

You can’t hate whoever it is. It’s not fair.

‘You going to tell her?’

‘Maybe?’ He shook his head, ‘probably not.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know.’ He was frustrated, hands scrubbing down his face before moving to scratch the patches of black and grey that had newly sprouted onto his face, ‘I’m too fucked up. Look at this last few weeks. I fucking ran away from my problems like a scared little kid!’

‘You’re a great guy, Frankie. Granted a bit fucked up at times.’ The joke was clear in your voice, but that didn’t stop the death glare he shot your way, ‘Whoever this person is, she’s very lucky to have someone like you chasing after her.’

‘You think so?’

You hummed some sort of yes, nodding your head and leaning over to take the mug that had been abandoned on the coffee table, ‘You do need to stop running away, though. We were worried about you.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

The more you sat there, watching him, knowing he was in love with someone that wasn’t you, the stronger the tugging at your heart became. It was stupid. So fucking stupid. You had no right to feel that pain.

Wasn’t like you had seventeen years to tell him or anything, you fucking idiot.

Gathering your mug, you walked the little distance to the kitchen. There wasn’t much dividing the rooms, just a very messy set of counters, and when you looked over he hadn’t moved, still staring down at his hands like they might somehow hold the answer to all of the problems he was having.

You kicked yourself for what you said next. ‘You should go tell her.’

That had him looking up, ‘Now?’

‘Yes! Now! You’re a grown ass adult! You need to tell her at some point!’ you gestured towards the window, ‘At least it’s sunny out. Foreshadowing and all that. It should turn out alright for you.’

He watches you for a moment, doing that squinty thing with his eyes that happened whenever he was thinking hard.

A moment later and he was standing, wiping what you could only assume were clammy hands on his jeans, ‘Alright.’

‘And if I hear you didn’t go through with it, I’m calling Santi,’ he was already half way to the door when you called out the threat. You found his sudden mood change to eager puppy more endearing than you should’ve, ‘We came up with a plan earlier and he will beat your ass if you don’t tell her.’

His smile waved a little, hints of nerves shimmering through, but he still managed to laugh through it, ‘You won’t need your plan.’

You really wanted to believe him, even if it felt like a punch to the gut.

The door slammed close gently behind him. Deafening silence only amplified the sound of your heart slowly cracking in your chest and you quickly turned to the sink, trying to ignore the tears that pricked behind your eyes like little needles.

You had just turned on the tap and dropped the mugs into the rapidly growing sudsy water when there was a knock at the door.

‘I swear to God, Frankie, if you’ve left your key again!’

Door swinging open, he stood there like you were expecting. Except you weren’t expecting him to be hatless, nervously tugging at his hair as he stared at the floor.

Looking back, you should have known then. But hindsight is a stupid thing and when he finally did glance up at you, wide brown eyes swimming with concern and utter terror, you swore you forgot how to breathe.

‘I’m in love with you.’

___

Tags: @wyn-dixie, @grogusmum

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fluff #lexi writes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fluff #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #writing with prompts #april's writing list #I will be editing this to be GN when I get home!#for some reason my tired ass brain didn't compute this properly i'm sorry!

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

My Person

Some people have been asking for some Clara and Isiah and a little something came to me while listening to ‘Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?’ by Arctic Monkeys. Once I started writing, it strayed from that a bit and I’d still consider this very much platonic but I hope you like it!

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe. It’s 1925. Clara and Isiah haven’t talked in weeks but after a drunken night filled with a break up and scrapping in Small Heath, Isiah insists on going out to Arrow House to see her.

Featuring: Clara Shelby, Isiah Jesus, Tommy Shelby, Finn Shelby, Charles Shelby

-----

Because Clara was awake far later than was wise, reading by the light of the small lamp on her bedside table when she should have been asleep, she heard the rumble of a car engine out on the front-drive, the sound distinct and seemingly louder because of the quiet that descended upon Warwickshire at this time of night.

She’d made it down only two steps when Tommy crossed the foyer, giving her a quick glance as he kept moving to the door, Clara’s eyes drawn to the gun in his hands.

“Go back to bed.”

“Who’s—?”

“Clara, get up the fucking stairs,” he answered, the words inching towards a shout.

Tommy kept walking, turning his head towards Clara once again, this time only long enough to see her lift her foot, finding enough satisfaction in that small movement that his sister would cooperate with his command.

Clara couldn’t see anything from the foyer, the hall leading to the front door much too dark, and in Tommy’s absence, she drifted down a few more steps, leaning over the rail for a better look.

She started when the front door slammed against the wall and Tommy stalked back into the room, locking eyes with Clara for a moment, shaking his head as he went to put the gun away. Clara took a few more steps before Tommy came to the bottom of the staircase.

“Who’s—?” she started.

“Is that upstairs, then?” Tommy asked, hand extended to gesture towards the spot where she stood.

Clara glanced at the placement of her feet and then back to him, shrugging. “I’m up the stairs from you.”

Their eyes pulled from one another to the boys, to Finn and Isiah, as they came through to the hall, stumbling a little, the both of them clearly a bit drunk.

“See, Finn, told ya she’d be awake,” Isiah said, pointing up to her and leaning an arm over Finn’s shoulder. “Put us off for a night with your stories, eh Clara?”

They were the first words Isiah had directed at her in weeks and Clara wasn’t sure how to respond. She had indeed passed the evening after her nephew was asleep alone in her bedroom with a book, that much was true, but it wasn’t why she’d declined Finn and Michael's invitations in the first place.

Clara cleared her throat and settled her eyes on Finn, decided on speaking to him rather than Isiah. “You two idiots had a cup too much an—”

“Enough. Charles is asleep. Get the fuck to bed,” Tommy said. “All of you.”

“We came for dinner, Tom,” Finn said. “We’re fucking starving.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow as he glanced at his younger brother. “Well now, you’ve missed that by about nine hours, Finn.”

“Chef’s probably left something,” Clara answered Tommy, taking a step. “At the very least there’s a bit of chocolate cake. I could—”

“They boys can feed themselves,” Tommy waved them on before turning to his sister. “You go back to bed. And actually do it this time, eh?”

“Why have I got to go to sleep if they haven’t?”

Tommy was growing impatient with the kids, impatient with this particular interruption to his evening because even being as close as it was to two in the morning, and regardless of whether he was usually awake at this time or not, these hours were the hours he filled with distractions entirely of his choosing. And he’d certainly not chosen to be dealing with his sister’s smart mouth and the boys’ whiskey addled brains.

He was about to give her an answer, ready to tell her that his giving an order didn’t require her to ask any questions, but they were saved from the shouting match it would have quickly devolved into by Charles’s arrival at the top of the stairs.

“Dad?”

Tommy took a deep breath, rubbing his face with one hand as he beckoned the boy forward with his other. “C’mere, my boy.”

Charles came down a few steps but never made it to his father, stopping to hug Clara’s side, her arm fitting over his shoulders.

“Who’s here?” Charles mumbled as he settled his head against her.

“It’s just Uncle Finn and Isiah,” she answered.

Charles glanced around her looking for the older boys. “Why?”

“Well, my sweet sleepy boy,” Clara squeezed him a bit as he yawned. “They came to spend the night because they want to play with you bright and early tomorrow morning,” she said. “You should wake them extra early. Lots of shouting and jumping, eh?”

Charles grinned as he looked up to her. “You think they’ll want to ride horses?”

“Hmmm, you know, I think they’d love that, Charlie. A brilliant idea.”

Charles looked to Tommy. “Can we, Dad?”

Tommy glanced at his sister, snorting a bit at her smirk, the small bit of devilment she’d shown in planting the seed in her nephew’s head, the seed which would result in a bit of hell for the boys in the morning when Charles called on them.

“We’ll see about that in the morning,” Tommy answered. “Let’s get you back off to bed.”

“Can Aunt Clara come for a story?” Charles asked.

“One story,” Tommy answered, grateful his sister didn’t fight when Charles tugged on her hand, grateful she left her arguments and defiance on the staircase.

-----

It had taken two stories to get Charles back to sleep and though Clara wasn’t tired, she hadn’t gone back to her book, instead electing to lie awake in her bed and stare at the small sliver of moonlight passing through her windows while she listened to the boys come down the hall, finally finding their way to their rooms after several moments of hushed chatter.

She was unsurprised when her door was pushed open though it was nearly an hour later. It was why she was so intent on resisting sleep, because she wasn’t just lying there with no purpose. She was waiting.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” she said as Isiah came through, his eyes immediately finding hers in the dim room.

He didn’t seem so drunk now, the couple of hours and the food he’d probably consumed settling him a bit, the effects showing on his composed features.

“I want to talk.”

Clara snorted. “You came all the way out to Warwickshire for a chat?” she said. “Doesn’t your girl talk to you, Isiah?”

“She’s not my girl,” he answered.

Oh. The word was only a thought in Clara’s mind but Isiah read the understanding in her face, her lips subconsciously taking the shape needed if she were to voice it, and he twisted the knob before pushing the door closed, nothing more than a soft click sounding off as he did it.

“Well, I’m sorry to hea—”

“You’re not,” he answered. “You never even tried to like this one.”

Clara shrugged. “Either way, no reason for you and Finn to drive out here drunk. We could’ve waited, chatted about your woes with the girls of Small Heath without endangering your life and risking one of you getting arrested.”

Isiah sat down on the edge of her bed. “One of the new boys drove us.”

“Well, good. I’m glad to hear it.” Clara nodded, pulling her robe tighter. “But you really shouldn’t be in here. Tommy’ll kill you.”

“Will he?” Isiah asked.

Tommy hadn’t yet, though he hadn’t ever really come across Isiah and his sister together in quite that way either, every instance of them being caught together someplace her family would probably kill any other boy for being had been so innocuous that the Shelbys had nearly come to believe what the pair consistently insisted, that there was little more than a close friendship between them.

“Why is it whenever you can’t find a girl to bring home from the pub, you come find me?”

“We needed to talk.”

Clara met his eye and took a deep breath. It had been a long couple of weeks without talking to Isiah. She slid across the bed, offering him some space by the headboard. Slipping off his boots and dropping them to the floor with a solid thump, he joined her at the head of the bed, picking up the book on her nightstand and glancing at the title in the small bit of light through the window.

“So this is why you couldn’t come out with us, then?”

Clara shrugged, focused on the braid over her shoulder as she sat cross legged facing him. “Didn’t think you’d really want me there.”

Even before they’d rowed, Clara hadn’t wanted to be around the boys so much, not when all they wanted was to go out with the girls from the factory, with Millie and her friends. She’d been avoiding Isiah in general, claiming an extra bit of school work and Tommy’s insistence that she spend more time with Charles was keeping her home at Arrow House when in truth, she just wasn’t feeling up to facing him.

Clara wasn’t often like that after an argument with him, wasn’t often distant or aloof after the initial flare of emotion subsided, but then again, she was often the one who did the shouting, the one who left the other person a bit peeved or hurt, the one who needed to take the first step and do the apologizing.

And though she’d done her fair share of shouting the last time they spoke, it was Isiah’s words that stung and it was Isiah’s tone that left Clara’s heart a bit melancholy.

“You were right.” Isiah glanced at her. “What you said about Millie.”

The tightness in Clara’s chest released a bit as she took a breath.

“You won’t believe me but I am sorry, Isiah,” she said. “I know you liked this one.”

Isiah shrugged.

“Not like it’s your fault,” he said. “You tried to warn me off of her. I should have listened when you told me there was someone else. Would’ve saved myself from this.”

Isiah flexed his hand and Clara caught sight of his knuckles.

“Christ, Siah.” She leaned over him to switch on the lamp and pulled his hand into hers, looking it over.

“They’re just bruised,” he said, nonchalant, his hand left there, the fingers of his right hand draped over her palms though he flinched when she drew her thumb over the tender skin. “You should see him.”

Clara glanced up and saw the red mark on his cheek. “I hope he looks worse than you.”

“Of course he looks worse than me.”

“You shouldn’t go picking figh—”

“I didn’t,” he said. “Not that it wouldn’t have been deserved, but it was actually Millie who brought it all about. I was ready to let it be.”

“It’s good I didn’t come, then.”

Isiah raised an eyebrow.

“We’d both have bruised knuckles,” Clara answered. “I don’t know I’d have been able to stop myself.”

A light snort escaped before Isiah sucked in his bottom lip, tilting his head a bit as he met Clara’s eye. “You know, I didn’t mean what I said that day, right? I was just mad.”

“You did mean it,” Clara answered, looking away from his face, down to the hand she was still cradling in her lap. “And you were right, I suppose… Well, half right, at least. I said what I said because it was true and I didn’t want you hurt but...”

Isiah smiled. “Miss Clara Shelby, are you in love with me?”

Clara pushed his hand away and glanced up to him at the end of her eye roll. She’d wanted to say something clever in return but instead found herself just missing the warmth of his hand as she mumbled. “Siah, you’re my…”

They both struggled to find a word to describe what they were to one another, even after all this time, a decade or so of various labels unable to do them any proper justice because nothing seemed to catch all of the different elements, all of the moments, all of the meaning.

“Person?” Isiah finally said and Clara gave him a small smile.

“I suppose,” she answered, because she did suppose that was it. Isiah was her person, a little bit of everything to her, as he always had been, a bit beyond her best friend, not quite like a brother though she considered him family in every way that mattered. “Even when you’re so infuriating I’d like to have one of my brothers chuck you in the cut.”

“You’d miss me if you did,” Isiah said. “Just like I miss you when you decide to hole yourself up all the way out here.”

“You were avoiding me too.”

Isiah shrugged. “I shouldn’t have said it. Shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I was jealous though,” she answered. “Always am when you find yourself a new girl, a new...”

Clara focused on picking at the covers of her bed.

“Person?” he said, guessing again. “You really think one of those girls could push you out?”

Clara shrugged.

“I imagine someday one of them will,” she said. “I just hope it’ll be the right one when it happens. Someone I can get on with well enough. A nice girl who’ll help keep you in line and let us stay friends.”

“Christ, Clara,” he answered, grabbing for her hand, squeezing once despite the pain it caused. “Don’t be worried about that.”

He had been annoyed when he called her jealous, put off by her constant derogatory nagging about Millie Clarke, a bit triggered by her telling him she was seeing someone behind his back.

“I never should’ve said it.” Isiah tugged on her hand. “Come here.”

Clara shifted so she was sitting beside Isiah against the pillows, her cheek resting against his chest as his arm fit over her shoulders.

“It will happen someday, Siah,” Clara said. “And it should. You’ll fall in love and things’ll change.”

“Yeah, well, whatever happens with that doesn’t change this,” he answered. “It’d be a bit of a waste, yeah? To let some girl push you out after all the nagging and sassing and trouble you’ve put me through?”

Clara elbowed him. “Don’t be a prat, Siah.”

“See what I mean?” he continued. “Why would I just toss out ten years of elbows to the stomach for a girl who doesn’t even know how to properly push me about?”

Clara glared up at him but took thing no further, settling against his chest once again.

“And I can’t imagine there’s another person on the face of this earth who looks at me like you do.”

“Like you’re an imbecile I can’t believe has made it to the age of nineteen on his own?” she answered, though that wasn’t right, not nearly close to being it, because the way Clara and Isiah looked at each other, whether it was a glare or accompanied by a laugh through crinkled eyes or with a pooling wave of tears, was something different altogether. It communicated something that no one really ever put words to, something neither of them ever really tried to describe.

“Like you’re my person,” he said. “A right pain in my arse, but my person, nonetheless. and I’m sorry for shouting at you and for not properly hearing what you were trying to tell me.”

Clara didn’t answer him right away, thinking over his words, contemplating the relief she was feeling for the first time in weeks.

“I think I’m meant to be comforting you,” she finally mumbled, her head still there against his chest. “You’re the one who’s been dumped.”

Isiah’s body rose and fell beneath her as he took a slow, deep breath and Clara looked up to watch his face though he was deliberately looking to the ceiling. Isiah played at being the cheeky womanizer, played at wanting nothing more than fun and chaos and lust but Clara knew there was a bit more to Isiah than that.

“I’m alright, Clara,” he said.

“You’re not. You’re upset. You want to talk about it?”

Isiah finally met her eye and shook his head. “Not right now. How about we just read a bit?” He reached for the book on her nightstand, holding it open between the two of them. “You can go first.”

“I don’t think you’ll like this one,” she offered. “It’s a bit romantic.”

“What’s wrong with a little romance?”

“Nothing. I just thought what with Millie and all, it might not be the best choice of material,” she said. “Seeing as you’re a bit-”

“Enough deduction. Just read to me, eh?”

“Fine, but you’ll let me know if you want to talk about it?” she asked.

Isiah nodded, shifting a bit to get more comfortable against the pillows. Isiah closed his eyes as he settled, resting them for a moment, and Clara still studied his face, continuing with her investigation in peace now that he’d closed his eyes.

Isiah squinted an eye open at her. “You gonna read that book or just sit there staring at my beautiful face all night?”

He coughed as her elbow once again found his side.

“So much for you comforting me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you liked me throwing elbows and pushing you about.”

“I never said I liked it, just that I’m too invested at this point to go tossing you out.” Isiah sighed, rolling his eyes. “Though maybe I should reconsider, let Mickey and Finn fight it out to be my best mate. Michael’s probably as good of a reader as you, probably got more better taste in books anyway.”

“Give me that.” Clara snatched the book from him and started reading without offering a rebuttal, the two of them falling asleep atop the covers before the chapter came to a close.

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder here.

🏷:

@beautycinders

@buckybluebarnes

@cecii22me

@lovemissyhoneybee

@midnight-dreams-23

@mo-onstarrs

@pollyrepents

@unicorndetective22

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby!sister #shelby sister #isiah jesus #isaiah jesus #tommy shelby #finn shelby #charles shelby #clara shelby #little lady blinder #arctic monkeys #why'd you only call me when you're high

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cryptid-cryptonomica · 3 years

Note

Amnesty! ^_^ Request! Ned 4 hours into a cryptonomica shift 3 bottles of nyquel deep fighting off duck and aubrey who keep trying to get him to close shop.

Three Bottles of Nyquil would probably kill a man, but Ned's pretty tough, I guess. “I’m just saying, double fisting is okay in literally any other sense than this one,” Aubrey told him, leaning down on the counter toward Ned. She picked up the shot glass Ned had just set down on the counter, tilting it from side to side, watching as the syrup slid along the bottom. “Coffee in one hand, and Nyquil in the other? What’re you trying to do? Just have Quil?”

“I don’t have Dayquil, but I need to stay awake to work,” Ned explained tiredly. He cradled his cup of coffee in his hands, trying to sap the warmth from the liquid. He glanced around his customer-less store, looking at the exhibits, and listening to the soft hum of the fluorescent lights over head. His head was pounding, and he didn’t know why he felt so cold when he definitely had a fever. He had a mountain of used tissues sitting in the trashcan under his desk, as well as a now-empty bottle of Nyquil. All he needed was a blanket draped over his shoulder, and he’d be the definition of a sick old man.

Duck gave Ned an unimpressed glare. “You’re giving your body mixed signals. The coffee’s telling you to wake up, and the Nyquil is telling you to sleep. You're gonna have a heart attack.” Duck told him. “Just close up and go to bed, you dingus.”

“I’m not closing until it’s the time that’s on the sign,” Ned said, gesturing vaguely to the door.

Aubrey set the shot glass back down onto the register counter, and gave Ned a grin. “Oh? The sign has more power than us, your dearest friends do?”

“It does,” Ned said.

“Oh. Wow. Really? Okay,” Aubrey said. She put her hands on her hips and said, “A piece of paper has more power than me, your friend, who can literally light anything on fire whenever she can.”

“It does.”

“Bitch,” Aubrey said, though Ned wasn’t sure if she was directing it at him or the paper. She gave him a look over, and then whirled around, walking over to the sign. She stared at it for a few moments, before she began to fumble around with it

“If you’re going to do property damage, you’re gonna have to pay for it,” Ned called out. Aubrey waved him away with her hand, but didn’t turn back from the sign. Ned let out a sigh, and took a long drag of his coffee, giving Duck a small smile. “Kids, am I right?”

“You say that like you ain’t acting like a kid right now,” Duck said. He reached over, putting his hand on Ned’s shoulder. “You look half dead, Ned. Just go the fuck to bed. Aubrey and I’ll close up.”

Ned snorted. “Aubrey’s more likely to burn the place down, and I need a roof over my head.”

“You’re gonna have six feet of dirt over your head if you don’t lie down,” Duck said darkly. He brought his hand up, brushing it against Ned’s forehead. “You don’t gotta worry about your house, you’re the one burning.”

“It’s not too bad,” Ned lied.

“What did the thermometer say?” Duck demanded, pulling his hand back. He looked at Ned’s cup, and tutted his tongue. “And you really shouldn’t be drinking coffee, you should be having water. Coffee’s not good when you’re sick.”

“Alright alright,” Ned said, pushing the cup of coffee away from him. He tried to keep his tone casual when he said, “And the thermometer said 102 degrees.”

“Jesus Christ, Ned!” Duck exclaimed. “How the fuck are you even standing?”

Ned thought for a moment, and then said, “My concoction. I do believe Aubrey called it Quil.”

“I swear to god,” Duck said, sounding more exasperated than usual. “Ned, you gotta go to bed.”

“Not until it’s closing time,” Ned told him.

“Ah!” Aubrey said, finally turning back from the wall. She had the sign with the Cryptonomica’s hours in her hand, and she brought it over. She tapped on the number on the Tuesday row. The regular number had been scribbled out, and another one was written down on top of it. It was too small for Ned to properly make out, but Aubrey didn’t leave him hanging for long. She cleared her throat and said. “I do believe that this here sign says that the Cryptonomica closes at 2:43pm sharp on Tuesdays. And…” She checked her wrist as if there was a watch on it. “Wouldn’t you know it, it’s 2:44! Turns out you’ve been closed for an entire fucking minute.”

Ned stared at Aubrey, looking at her beaming face and then at his poor, desecrated sign. “You graffiti-ed my sign,” Ned said lamely.

Aubrey grinned at him. “That I did. I also turned the Open sign off, so now people won’t even come in!”

“I…” Ned glanced over at Duck, who was giving Aubrey an approving nod. He let out a small sigh. “Fine. You two win. I’ll go to bed.”

“Finally,” Aubrey said. She set the sign down on the register counter and walked over to Ned’s side. “Here, let me help you up, old man.”

“I’m not that old,” Ned muttered, but he took Aubrey’s hand anyways.

She helped hoist him up, and then patted his back. “You’re ancient,” Aubrey told him. “Older than time itself. The dinosaurs worshipped you as a god.”

“That’s news to me,” Ned said, letting out a small yawn. The three of them began to trudge up the stairs. Ned had to take extra care to make sure he didn’t trip on any of the steps.

“I think the dinosaurs would’ve eaten you,” Duck said from behind them. “Like, one bite, and you’re gone.”

“I’m more of a two-bite brownie than a one-bite,” Ned replied. He gestured to himself, “I’ve got a bit of meat on my bones.”

“Hmm.” Aubrey reached over and opened the door to Ned’s apartment. She helped guide him in, and then said, “I think it’s more of a one and a half bite. Not quite two.”

“Fair enough,” Ned said, kicking off his shoes. He turned to his friends. “I should be good now, thank you for your concern.”

“Ah, absolutely not,” Aubrey said. “You think we’re gonna leave you to fend for yourself when you’re dying?”

“I’m not dying, Aubrey,” Ned said, before he fell into a fit of coughing.

Aubrey patted his back lightly, giving him a small smile. “Just lie down, okay? I’ll get you some water and more blankets.”

“I…�� Ned started, but Aubrey glared at him. Ned let his shoulders slump. “Alright.”

“You go get the water, I’ll help him to bed,” Duck said. Aubrey nodded, and disappeared into Ned’s kitchen. With Duck’s help, Ned stumbled his way into his bed. Duck pulled the covers up over Ned, and then pressed his hand against Ned’s forehead. “If this gets worse, we may have to take you to the hospital.”

“Can’t afford it,” Ned mumbled. Now that he was in bed, he was finding it hard to stave off the sleepiness he had felt before. He closed his eyes, trying to get the pounding in his head to stop.

“You don’t gotta afford it. We’d all pitch in,” Duck told him.

“I got the water!” Aubrey said. The floorboards creaked as she entered the room, and Ned heard her set the glass on his end table.

“Thank you,” Ned managed to get out.

“It’s no problem,” Aubrey whispered. “Now, get some sleep.”

Ned gave her a nod, and then decided to take her advice, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

#ned chicane #aubrey little #duck newton #taz amnesty #the adventure zone amnesty #my writing #if anybody else wants to shoot a request #feel free #also I had to americanize the temperature because I am used to celsius

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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Guardian Angel - Part 9

Daryl Dixon x Reader

(Warnings: Judith gets a little sick, but nothing serious! Also a heavy topic between the reader and Daryl)

Looking back, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to sneak up on a guy who’s guard was pretty much constantly up, but you didn’t think of that, you just thought that a surprise hug would be a good thing, you ending up on the ground convinced you that maybe, just maybe, you should’ve announced yourself first.

“Jesus girl! The hell you tryna do, sneaking up on me like that?” you couldn’t help but giggle as he pulled you up, grinning at him “well I thought ‘hey look my boyfriend, I wanna hug him’” you shrugged casually, but seeing his tense look you quickly realized what you said “I-I mean, I uh… I’m sorry I-I thought… it’s okay if you’re, you know, not ready o-or just don’t want to-”

“Nah, it’s cool, ‘girlfriend’ ” he gave you one of those little smirks that just made you want to punch him and kiss him at the same time, but you went with rolling your eyes, a smile on your lips as he put a hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, still smirking, your eyes locked. Sometimes the two of you could do this, just look at each other, he didn’t feel uncomfortable with you looking at him, and he allowed you to exploit that as much as you wanted, in turn he was allowed to stare at you all he wanted, it was a silent agreement between the two of you, one that Daryl secretly adored. You hummed low and leaned up to peck his cheek, and he let you, as he always did, “so whatcha doin’ down here anyway?” he mumbled as he held you close, a smile on your lips as you shrugged “can’t I just check up on my boyfriend?” he gave you an amused scoff and you sighed “okay, okay, listen, Glenn and Maggie are going out to get some supplies for Judith, and I said I’d tag along, just wanted to let you know, we’re leaving now” he let out a small grumble, you knew he wasn’t a fan of whenever you went on a run, just as you weren’t a fan when he did it, “I’ll be back before you know it, I promise” he gave you a small ‘mhm’ in acknowledgement, and you smiled, leaving up and pecking his cheek, you were about to turn away when you head your name being called, you turned to see Beth with Judtih in her arms “(Y/N), I kinda need your help, do you have time?” you gave her smile and nodded “yeah, just gotta tell Maggie and Glenn” she nodded and went back inside, your eyes turning back to Daryl “well, looks like you’re stuck with me anyway” Daryl gave a quiet scoff “lucky me” you giggled as he leaned down and kissed you, and you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, it always felt so incredible when your lips met, it was slow and passionate, no matter the time, and it always served you to want more. Once you finally parted you smirked up at him “don’t go far” you mumbled, quickly leaning up and pecking his lips again before running over to Maggie and Glenn who were waiting by their car.

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

You smiled at Beth as you walked up to her “hey, so what’s up?” Beth showed you Judith, who looked very, very tired “I don’t know, she’s sleeping one minute, screamin’ and crying, and when I pick her up she’s like this, I tried feeding her but she won’t take it, I tried to put her to sleep, cause she looks so tired but then she just starts cryin’ again” you frowned and took her from Beth carefully, examining her face and how groggy she looked. You looked to Beth who were frowning concerned “get a blanket, gonna lay her down” Beth nodded and did as told, coming back with a fluffy blanket from her make-shift crib, laying it out on the ground while you kneeled with Judith, gently laying her on the blanket, watching her face contort as she cried “oh I know sweetie, I know” you whispered as you watched how she was laying, it was like she was trying to take pressure off of her right side. You sighed and held her up so she was sitting, she slowly stopped crying but was clearly still uncomfortable, Beth looked even more scared now “get Hershel, just to make sure” Beth nodded and went to get her dad as you pulled Judith up in your arms again, gently rocking her “it’s okay sweetie, we’re gonna figure this one out, like we always do, okay?” you knew she couldn’t answer or even understand you, but you still talked to her, in some weird way, it was like talking to Lori, you knew Lori was dead and buried, but it still felt nice to talk to Judith like she was her, you knew she wasn’t, and you knew Judith couldn’t understand you, it was the reason why you told her half of what you did.

You smiled as Hershel approached “what do we have here?” you shrugged as you continued to rock Judith “when she’s laying down she’s leaning to the left, like something is up with her right side, it’s better when she’s sitting up, but best if she’s held, Beth says she won’t eat” Hershel frowned and sat down on a nearby chair, putting his crutches to the side and reaching for Judith, who you happily gave him “let’s have a look at you, alright sweetheart? Beth when did you last feed her?” you smiled at Beth to reassure her, and she managed to give you a tiny smile back “uhm, about half an hour ago”.

You watched Hershel examine her before nodding “well the eating is because she’s just not hungry. I think it’s a tummy ache of some sorts, she’ll probably get it out in the next day or so, but it won’t be nice changin’ her diaper” you chuckled low, looking to Beth “was it that before?” Beth giggled, watching you get up and sit down nearby, Hershel reaching her to you “for the next day or so she’s gonna have to be held when she’s sleepin’, otherwise she won’t get much sleep, but it’s probably just for a day or two, don’t think it’s anything serious” you nodded and smiled at Beth “go get some sleep or something, I got her” Beth nodded and packed up the blanket on the ground, giving you the cloth you used for Judith before going off. You smiled at Hershel as you gently held a sleepy Judith “you’re good with her” Hershel pointed at Judith and you shrugged, smiling down at Judith who was slowly falling asleep “I guess, she’s easy to handle I think” Hershel chuckled at that, smiling softly at the sight of you with Judith “what do Daryl think?” you chuckled low “Daryl loves her, he’s just too tough to admit it” Hershel kept his kind eyes on you “I meant with you, you two ever thinking ‘bout that?” you looked at Hershel, thinking it over before gently shrugging “I-I don’t know, we’ve only been together for a few months, we just made it official today, I don’t know what he’d think...”

Hershel hummed, leaning back in the chair “well, what do you think?” you shrugged “I think he’d made a wonderful dad, I think he’s just scared. He hasn’t told me, and that’s okay, but I don’t think he had the best upbringing… I’m not sure, it doesn’t matter to me too much, he’s still Daryl, but I think it matters a lot more to him when it comes to things like this” you gestured, as much as possible, to Judith in your arms “I think he’s scared he’s going to fail, I just don’t think he realizes that he won’t. He’s a good man, Hershel, despite his own opinion” Hershel nodded, giving a smile to the sleeping Judith “I know, that was clear from the way he searched for that little girl, Sophia” you hummed low “yeah. I think he’d make a wonderful dad, but it’s up to him, honestly.”

You were unaware of a certain archer who had heard everything, when you hadn’t been right back, he went to see if everything was okay with Judith, he came just in time to hear Hershel ask you what he thought about children, he was about to smile at your answer before Hershel continued. He debated if he should reveal himself or go back outside, but eventually decided to act like nothing, walking into the room and smiling seeing Judith “so what kinda trouble is little Asskicker gettin’ herself into now?” you laughed low, smiling at how Daryl gently stroked Judith’s head while she were sleeping “a tummy ache, she won’t be able to get much sleep laying down the next few days, Beth and I are gonna take turns holding her so she can sleep, you’re welcome to pitch in if you want?”

Hershel took his crutches and got up, giving you a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder for Daryl, before then taking off, leaving you and Daryl alone. You watched Daryl sit in the chair Hershel had previously sat in, his gaze on the floor as he chewed his thumbnail. “Alright, what’s bothering you?” Daryl looked at you confused, which just made you smile “you bite your thumbnail when you think, amongst other things” Daryl sighed and leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, this made you frown “Daryl, what is it?” he kept his gaze at the floor before finally looking at you “I heard what you ‘n Hershel talked about” you sighed heavily, looking at a sleeping Judith before looking back at Daryl “well… I meant what I said, about you being a dad, I think you’d be great, but it’s up to you, honestly” he scoffed at this, not the amused one either, the annoyed one “how can you think that, that I’d make a good dad, huh?? You met me? I ain’t exactly a good man, I’m broken as hell, I ain’t gonna be no good dad, fuck that, I’d make everything fuckin’ worse!” you frowned at his words “I’d prefer it if you didn’t insult the man I love more than anything” you kept your voice calm, partly because you didn’t want to wake Judith, and partly because what he said about himself actually hurt you, Daryl sighed annoyed and looked away from you.

After a few minutes of silence you got up, still holding a sleeping Judith “look Daryl, I’m not going to lie, I love you, I really do. I truly believe you’d make a great father, not only because of what you’ve been through, no matter what it is, but also because you’re the best man I know, and I’ll always stand by you. I love you and the thought of maybe one day having a kid is scary as hell for me, but knowing you, I know you’d step up and be by my side as well, I truly believe that. If that’s not what you want then I understand that, I understand what happened with Lori, the fear Maggie and Glenn are going through, but if I’m honest, one day, somewhere safe, if there even is such a place, it’s something I wouldn’t mind” you turned around and left with Judith, going to your own cell to be more comfortable while Judith slept, you hadn’t fully moved in with Daryl, nor he with you, it was a silent question that hung in the air, but you wanted to give him time and space to think about it, if he’d even consider it after this.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader #TWD FanFic

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gabywantsafriend · 4 years

Text

Anything For You: Ferris Bueller x Reader

(Kinda my gif??? Idk I found it online but I originally posted it on here)

Requested by anonymous: ferris bueller realizing he loves the reader maybe?

I’m so sorry it took such a long time to post another imagine! I hope you guys enjoy it :’)

Warning: Swearing

“Adams?” “Here.”

“Adamley?” “Here!”

“Adamowski?” A rather lazy hand was raised, indicating the student’s presence.

“Adamson?” “Here.”

“Adler?” The response was delayed by a couple of seconds. “Here.”

“Anderson?” Another delayed response. “Anderson?” “Here!”

“Bueller?”

Nothing. You quickly scanned the room, he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t walk in that morning. You looked at Cameron and he shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what Ferris was up to or where he was. “Bueller?” Crickets. “Bueller?” Dead silence. “Bueller?” The teacher’s monotonous voice began to sound like a broken record player.

You cleared your throat as you tried impersonating the missing troublemaker, letting out a low “Here.” The class snickered, causing your teacher to silence everyone. Turning to you, he huffed.

“L/n, I know you and Bueller are best friends but you really don’t have to cover for him in his absence. You’ll get your turn in the roll call later, don’t get too excited,” He went on with checking the attendance. You stubbornly sank into your seat, eyeing the vacant one next to you where Ferris was usually sat. What kind of trouble do you have in mind this time?

--------

Recess rolled in and you were standing at the phone booth just outside of your school. You dialed Ferris’ home number and waited for him to pick up. He was probably out on another one of his spontaneous adventures.

“Hello?” His voice was nasally, he was always good at playing sick.

“Oh, cut the crap. Where the hell are you, idiot? This is your tenth absence this semester, you said you didn’t wanna miss school after last time! No wonder your grades are shit! What are you up to now?” You scolded. Skipping class to hang out and be teenagers was fun the first few times. However as it became a habit of Ferris, you wished he could take school more seriously.

“Y/n, calm down. First of all, I could easily hack into the school’s computer system and change my grades,” He coughed. “Second, I’m not kidding this time. I’m actually sick.” You scoffed, muttering a small “yeah right.”

Of course, you found it hard to believe. You’ve known Ferris Bueller since you were ten. And you knew that it took a lot for him to be ill.

“Why would I ever lie to you? I’m serious,” he deadpanned. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, I’ll bring today’s assignments for you and I’ll visit you as soon as class ends.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone as he spoke. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You bid goodbye as he did the same, both of you putting down the phone.

Well, what do you know. For the first time in a long time, Ferris Bueller was sick.

--------

You dropped your bike right in front of the Buellers residence and sprinted to the back door. You lifted the rug and took the spare key that Katie Bueller left in case of emergencies or whenever you wanted to visit. You were always welcome. Unlocking the door, you bolted up the steps and stopped in front of the door to your best friend’s room..

“Ferris, you better not be naked. I’m coming in.”

“Hi, Y/n.” The sight was beyond pitiful: The floor was littered with used tissues. Bottles of medicine decorated his dresser. And on the bed was a very pale boy, sniffling and shivering still even under the many layers of blankets he was covered in. Oh, Ferris.

“You look like shit.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you too,” he quipped. You rolled your eyes at his untimely use of sarcasm and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, you’re practically steaming,” You commented, getting up to fetch him an ice pack to hopefully lower his temperature. “I’m flattered, Y/n. I really am. But can you keep it in your pants until after I get well?” You were used to his foul-mouthed jokes by now. “Very funny, loser. Now put this on your forehead,” You handed him the cold material and he obeyed, hissing as it touched his skin.

“Oh, right! I got the homework for you,” you told him, getting your bag and pulling out his books and assessment sheets and laying them on his desk. “I also wrote an extra copy of the notes you missed,” You handed him the pages that you’ve ripped from your notebook where the duplicates were. His eyes, teary from his cold, widened.

“Wha-? But I just asked for you to get today’s assignments! You didn’t have to go an extra mile with taking my notes for me!” He took the papers gratefully, flipping through them. “I’m convinced you’re my guardian angel or some shit! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.”

It was true. You’d gladly and endlessly do anything for him.

You’ve liked Ferris since you first covered for him in fifth grade.

Young Ferris thought it’d be a good idea to chuck a bouncy ball at Mrs. Ritland, the math teacher you had all despised. Believe it or not, he was an even bigger idiot back when you were ten. She was writing on the chalkboard, back turned to you; the perfect time to strike. The small toy hit the poor lady’s nape. The classroom was suddenly filled with gasps and the sound of laughter. She exclaimed in pain, rage-filled eyes darting from student to student. Before she could even question which delinquent threw the damned thing, you stood up and raised your hand.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

Ferris was quick to defend you, chucking another bouncy ball at the woman. “If you even think of punishing her, you’ll have to go through me!”

You were both given a month’s detention and have been inseparable ever since.

“I’m dying,” He croaked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Oh, please. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do!” You quoted him. “Didn’t you say that yourself?”

He groaned, “Yes, I did say that myself. But now isn’t the time. I’m really not feeling well, Y/n.”

“Nonsense! It helped Cameron last time, he felt great afterwards.” You got off the bed, trying to pull him up with you. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the covers. “Aww, come on! Get up on your feet, mister! What do you feel like doing today? The weather’s lovely! Maybe we can go swimming? Or perhaps you’d like to go to the arcade? Ooh, street food sounds good! Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you there!” You coaxed excitedly.

“As much as I love our adventures, I was thinking maybe we could just stay here? You know, we could talk for a while and we can take a nap together just like when we were kids. And when I’m feeling better, we could watch a movie,” Ferris spoke softly, sniffling right after. You hummed, considering his offer.

“You can stay here and rest. I can get us some corn dogs from the stand nearby, I’ll be quick I promi-”

“No, no, you missed my point,” he shook his head, grinning at your stubbornness. “I meant can you stay? We don’t have to go anywhere. I enjoy your company, it’s more than enough,” He pulled the blankets to his nose, hiding his bashful smile as well as his growing blush. You were sure you would have melted then and there.

“Sure thing. Ferris.” You adored this boy.

It had been an hour since you’d agreed to stay in with Ferris and you were seated at his desk, tutoring him about trigonometric functions, a lesson he missed that day. He was reading the notes on the topic, following along with what you were saying. “Okay, I found this to be quite easy. So, we start off with the basics: sine, cosine, and tangent-”

At least, that’s what it looked like.

At first glance, it seemed as though he was actually studying. But what you didn’t know was that he had been admiring your handwriting and your little doodles on the blank spaces of the paper.

See, Ferris liked you. He’s liked you since forever ago. He remembered the moment so vividly, as if it only happened yesterday.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

He looked at you and thought, “Wow, that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, he couldn’t let a pretty girl such as you take the blame for what a stupid boy such as him had done. It just wasn’t fair to you. So he immediately admitted that it was his fault, as he should.

He felt guilty that you had to get wrapped up in this mess and had to suffer the consequences. To make up for it, every time you had detention, he would take you to secret hideouts around the school. That two months of running around school trying not to get caught marked your first of soon-to-be-many adventures.

And now here you were, almost eight years later, helping him solve for x. His eyes softened at how into it you were while teaching him. You were even more beautiful than when you were a kid, just when his younger self thought you couldn’t get any more stunning.

He thought about how you were kind enough to fill him in on everything he’d missed; how as soon as class was dismissed, you biked as quickly as you could just to take care of him. You could have easily ditched him to go out and get those corn dogs you’ve been craving; or you could have easily gone out for a walk since, according to you, “the weather’s lovely.”

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

The mere thought of that, along with everything about you, caused his heart to pound out of his chest.

I think I’m in love with her. Fuck that. I am in love with her.

“...And that explains why sine 90° is equivalent to 1. What the-? Ferris Bueller, are you even listening?” You waved a hand in front of his face, still not responding. He looked as if his mind was somewhere completely different. “Hello? Earth to Ferris?” He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He whispered something you didn’t quite catch. “What?” He whispered again. “I can’t hear you, pal. Speak up.”

“I love you. There, I said it.” You were at a loss for words as your eyes met. Both of you progressively got redder by the second.

“What in the right mind made you say that?” Confusion was evident in your voice, as well as nervousness.

“I’ve loved you for a while now and when you dropped everything to visit me today, I realized how deep I’ve fallen,” Ferris bashfully stated. He could be cheesy at times but you thought it was cute.

“Woah, you are such a fucking sap,” You both burst into laughter, him scoffing and clutching his chest in mock offense. “I love you too, you dingus.”

His heart fluttered as you said it. The mix of his sickness and your confession made him lightheaded. You plopped down on his bed, hugging him tightly. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re too close, I’m gonna get you sick!” He asked as you kissed his nose.

You got under the covers with him, rolling your eyes, “You think I still care? I fucking love you for Christ’s sake!” You made him laugh at that. “How about that nap you suggested earlier, hmm?”

He closed his eyes, the biggest grin still plastered on his face. “She loves me,” being the last thought in his head before contently falling asleep.

#80s #80s movies #ferris bueller's day off #ferris bueller x reader #ferris bueller imagine #imagine #ferris bueller #ferris beuller

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hoodharlow · 4 years

Text

Mr. Hood [Teacher!Cal AU]

Chapter 1

AN: so I'm rewriting my teacher!cal fic. Let's hope I make it past one chapter. Lol jk I’m like half way done with Chapter 2. The story is based on #28 from a sentence prompts one of my faves posted a while back. As usal thankyou to my mamas @d-oaks ilysm, D.

Requested?: no lol

Warnings: smut lol

Word Count: 5.4k words

“Did you finish your homework?" Odalis asked her 8 year old daughter, Mina, through the phone. She pulled her leather jacket closer to her. It was mid January; a surprise to many, it’s not always 70 degrees and sunshine in San Diego. It can get cold as fuck, especially when it rains days straight like now .

Odalis was outside some club that her friends, Destiny and Sana, dragged her to on recommendation from their other friends. According to them, she was in desperate need of a night out dancing. Even Mina’s dad, Aubrey, and his boyfriend, Jonathan, agreed.

Aubrey and Odalis have known each other since they were in middle school. Bonding over the fact that they were the only brown kids in a low-key racist Catholic middle school. The night of her quinceañera, her cousin Ghost brought a blunt to the after party. Aubrey and Odalis ended getting stupid high after one hit each. Aubrey had the genius idea to have sex with her to make sure he wasn’t gay.

Turns out that he’s gay, gay.

Thanks to the useless sex education they received in Catholic schools—high schools in general— and their push for celibacy until marriage, neither teenager thought of using protection.

"Yeah, but I don't like multiplication. My teacher’s stupid.” Mina huffed, bringing back Odalis from her thoughts.

"Don’t say shit like that. You know your papi gets mad when we say shit like that," She playfully scolded. “Speaking of, let me talk to one of them.”

"Which one?"

"El que sea."

There was some shuffling on the other end. Odalis could hear Mina tell her dad she wanted to talk to him.

"Dalis, stop calling every hour. You swear like she’s never spent the night with us,” Aubrey said in a frustrated tone once he was on the phone.

“I know, I’m just bored. All we’ve done is drink,” She said softly, playing with the end of her jacket.

“No shit, it’s a club. Stop calling and go get dicked down.” He hung up.

Odalis locked her phone and walked back to the entrance of the club. When Destiny, Sana and her got here, there hadn't been a line like there was right now.

'Sucks to be them,' she thought to herself, and made a beeline to the door.

“Get in line.” Edgar, the bouncer, said. He stretched his arm across the door frame, blocking her.

“Seriously?” She scoffed. She crossed my arms challenging him. She knew all this fucking attitude was because she rejected him when he asked her out for a date a few weeks ago.

“Miss, just listen—”

“Tú no te metas,” she snapped at whoever called behind her. She turned to see who was butting in, only to see an incredibly cute guy. She turned back to Edgar, “Next time you—”

“Look, you’re holding up the line,” Cute guy interjected, again. He had an accent.

“No one’s talking to you. It’s none of your business,” she snapped at him once more.

“Actually it’s everyone’s business since you think you can just cut while the rest of us are waiting to go in.”

“I went in a while ago. I only stepped out to take a call, so back off.” She huffed. “Edgar, stop being dick to me just because I didn’t want to go on a date with you. Let me in y a este güey para que pare de chingar.”

Odalis pushed past the bouncer and went inside. She wove through the people until she got to the table where her friends were. She plopped in her seat and took a long sip of her Cantarito.

Fuck it, she told herself and downed the rest of the drink. She felt the alcohol run through her veins. It would be a lie to say this was the first drink of the night that she chugged shamelessly.

“Jesus!” Sana gasped.

“No!” Destiny whispered in shock.

In their ten year friendship, Sana and Destiny always gave her those reactions whenever she did something questionable or unsafe.

“Edgar,” Odalis said before eating the tamarindo candy that came with the drink. “He wouldn’t let me in, not to mention some pendejo kept butting in.”

“I still can’t believe he’s still mad because you wouldn’t go out with him, pathetic.” Sana said as she took a swing of her Angry Orchard.

“He’s disgusting. I’ve heard him talk about women all the time.” Destiny cringed.

“Let’s dance?” Odalis asked them. They agreed, getting up. They left their coats, claiming the table with their now empty drinks. As they made their way to the dance floor, “Gangsta” by Kehlani played. Destiny and Odalis shared a look as Sana’s face lit up instantly. Her love for Kehlani is beyond what words can describe. Honestly, she could give YG a run for his money. Odalis wrapped her arm around Sana’s shoulder and started to sway with her as she sang.

***

Calum finished his drink and wandered over to the bar. All his friends were coupled up, leaving him to be the spare tire. It had been like that for the past few years ever since he broke off his engagement.

It was mutual. She wanted bigger things in life while Calum was content with his life as is. He liked his job. For once he didn't overthink his life choices and was proud of what he accomplished.

From the corner of his eye he saw someone take the empty stool next to him. It was the woman from a while ago. She set her bag down, claiming the seat. She wasn’t even fully sitting when some guy approached her.

“Mate, let her settle in her seat before you fail to talk her up,” Calum said out loud, gaining her attention. The guy that walked up behind her turned back without saying anything.

She rolled her eyes before adjusting the back of the stool. “I can fend myself thank you very much,” she said as a matter of fact. She leaned forward, looking for a bartender.

“I’m aware.” He smirked as he took the final sip of his beer and looked away.

He felt her eyes on him, taking him in. He wore a white short sleeve button down and black pants. He knew he looked good. It was mainly his arms that caught women's attention. He wasn't sure why, but they always talked about his arms and hands. He turned back to her and she went back to searching for a bartender.

Calum watched her huff as the bartender ignored her when she tried getting their attention. She sat back in defeat. He raised his arm and the bartender quickly dropped their towel and walked over to him.

"I could've gotten the bartender myself," she said,tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Who said I was getting the bartender for you? I need a refill." He said smugly, showing her his empty glass.

Another guy from the other side tried approaching her. "Yo ma, I saw you shaking that—"

She raised her hand, stopping him from continuing. "There's only one person that calls me 'ma', and you don't look like my 8 year old," she deadpanned. At the mention of her daughter, the guy bolted, earning a snort from Calum.

"That was quite some fending you did," he commented sarcastically. Before she could say anything, the bartender came back with his beer. "Thanks, mate," he told the bartender and paid for this drink.

He shamelessly gave her a glance over. His eyes stayed an extra millisecond on her ass before walking away.

***

The bartender turned to Odalis. She struggled to make Destiny’s order and water for Sana and her. She was flustered. She was usually unfazed when someone openly checked her out, occasionally calling them out. With him, she felt something pool at the pit of her stomach, and panties.

The bartender handed her the drinks, and she made her way back to Sana and Destiny.

“What?” she asked them defensively. They both made a face and sipped their drinks. "¿Qué se traman?”

“He was cute.” Sana smirked.

“Who?”

“The cute guy at the bar. You both were eye fucking each other when the other wasn’t looking. Odalis, you even did that hair tuck you do when you’re nervous.” Destiny added.

"Doesn't matter." Odalis shrugged.

She doesn't have time for dating. She owns a bakery. Almost everyday she has to be up at four in the morning to be there at five for prep, so she can open at six to then close at six in the afternoon. She barely spends time with Mina as it is. Her daughter spends most nights with Aubrey, so Odalis is only with her when she picks her up and brings her back to the bakery. Even then she's busy working while Mina is at her table doing homework or coloring.

Sara snapped her fingers in front of Odalis' face. "Stop overthinking it. He’s probably looking for a quick fuck. I’m not saying that you need it, but your dry spell is three years old. Three years without having a man in—”

“I know.” Odalis slumped in her chair.

She sensed someone approach their table. She turned back to look at whoever was behind her.

“It’s me, save your little speech about your child. I only came to drop off your bag." the guy from earlier said. He raised his hands in surrender. "You’re lucky my friends love alcohol and sent me to get them more. I’m Calum by the way.” He set the bag down in front of her.

“I have to use the restroom.” “I’ll go with you.” Sana and Destiny said before bolting.

“You friends always leave like that?” He asked, his eyes following Destiny and Sana before looking back at Odalis.

“They know I can fend for myself,” She said pridefully. She watched him as he sat down next to her.

“Right, your ‘I have a daughter’ excuse.” He lightly shook his head before taking a sip of his beer.

“It’s not an excuse.” She said defensively, “I actually have a daughter.”

“I'm not saying you don’t. I’m just curious why you have the need to bring her up.” He rested one of his arms on the table and the other around the back of his chair.

“Why do you care, Calum?”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked, changing the subject.

"Nelly." she said. It was a fake name she gave them, on the rare occasion she was going to leave with them. The only time she gave her actual name, it ended badly. The guy she had slept with somehow found her bakery and showed up there. He caused a scene. Police were involved. Since then she vowed to never give her real name to strangers.

'Where are Sana and Destiny?' she thought to herself. As if the FBI agent in her phone read her thoughts, her phone vibrated. She glanced down. Destiny texted that they’re in the bar. She glanced up to search for them.

“Nelly,” he repeated to himself. He then looked up at her again. “There’s something about you that’s awfully familiar.”

“Oh please, not that line. Last time someone used that one me they said I looked like their future spouse. Be more creative.” Odalis laughed

A waiter set a cantarito in front of her. He pointed back to Sana and Destiny. Odalis met Sana’s eyes and she made an obscene gesture, showing her where she should put Calum. Her mouth. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of having him in her mouth.

“What do you do?” She asked him, changing the subject. She was mainly curious as to why he kept dismissing her when she mentioned that she has a kid.

“I teach at an elementary school,” Calum said.

She choked on her drink. “Bullshit!” Never did she imagine he was going to say teacher.

“On my mum’s future grave.” He crossed his heart. “I started my first teaching job right after winter break. I was in Sydney visiting my family when I got the call. I did all of my lesson plans on my flight back.”

Their conversation centered around him and Odalis didn't mind.

Calum was originally going into law like one of his best friends. When he did volunteer work at a school, he decided to switch to education. He got his teaching degree and his masters work at UC San Diego.

In the fall, he mostly did substitute teaching until he got a job offer at an elementary school because they fired one of their teachers. They never disclosed why she was fired, but one of his students claimed that she was always sick and took her medicine through her nose in front of the class.

Hearing Calum talk about his work made her realize how kind, compassionate, and selfless he was. He loved what he did. He mentioned how one of his students was very opinionated and was not one to let others talk down to her. It reminded Odalis of Mina.

Aubrey and her taught Mina not to be afraid to say what’s in her mind and to always politely defend herself when others made her feel less than what she was. In the first week of school Mina's teacher, Miss Kenedy, called Aubrey and her to talk about her behavior. Turns out she was only defending her friend because one of her peers was being mean to her.

Odalis barely talked the whole time, focused solely on him, as if he was the last man on earth. Hearing him made her drip with desire for him. Maybe Destiny was right. He seemed like someone to take her out of her dry spell.

“Sweetheart, is your daughter’s father still in the picture?” He asked.

“Yeah, but not like how you think.”

“So he wouldn’t mind if I kissed you?”

“He’d be relieved actually.”

Odalis took notice of how close they were. Their chairs were practically on top of each other.

His hand gently caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” He asked cautiously.

Odalis shook her head and smiled shyly at him. Calum pulled her by the back of her neck and gently kissed her lips. Lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his other arm as his lips dominated her. She was practically on his lap now.

She pulled him closer by his shirt, wanting more of him. She hated the taste of beer, but on his lips it tasted so delicious.

The both pulled away, out of breath, but ready for their lips to meet again.

“How far do you live from here?” she asked.

“About fifteen minutes walking. Why? You wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” He smirked. On the outside, Calum seemed cool and collected, but he was really freaking out at what she might say.

“If you’re down.” She shrugged.

“Alright. I’m going to tell my friends that I’m leaving. I’ll meet you where your friends are. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

They both got up. Odalis collected Sana and Destiny’s coats and walked over to them.

“I’m going back to his place.” She mumbled to them, handing them their stuff.

Sana and Destiny exchanged knowing smiles and turned back to her.

“Finally, I was about to fall asleep here,” Sana said.

“Share your location when you get to his place, and text us when you get home.” Destiny reminded her.

Odalis looked over to where Calum and his friends were. One of them was whispering something to him. He rolled his eyes and slipped on his jacket. He met her eyes and quickly bid his friends goodbye.

“Ready, sweetheart?” he asked her when he reached her.

“Yeah.” She tucked some hair back. She reached over to hug her friends.

“Bye, make sure he uses a condom. We don’t want another baby.” Sana said, hugging her. Then she turned to him, pointing her finger accusingly, “We are trusting her with you. I’m a forensic artist with perfect memory. Anything happens, and I can have a BOLO about you.”

“Your friend is going to be in great hands.”

***

According to Calum, his place was only fifteen minutes from the club. What he hadn’t taken into account was how important it was to stop at almost every wall and make out until they couldn’t take it.

When they got to his building, he inserted the code to get them in. Odalis followed him all the way to where the elevator was.

“I rarely do this, but would you mind giving me your number?” He asked her as he pushed his phone out to her.

“Um, actually I do.” She said, quietly. She pushed his phone back to him. “I rarely do this too. Besides, I want to focus on my daughter. Tonight I was only supposed to have girls night, but her dad basically forced me to come out. I’m sorry.”

“So this is going to be a one time thing for us? ” He put back his phone.

“I assumed you also wanted the same.” She confessed.

“Here I thought you found me appealing, but you just wanted me for my cock.” He said in disbelief, but there was a hint of playfulness to his tone.

“Well, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here." She smiled at him. "In another life I would have given you my number. Right now I just have so much to figure out with my daughter. So doing this again is out of the picture.” She rambled, looking down at her heeled boots.

“I guess I have to give you the best sex of your life, so you can reconsider.” He smirked just as the elevator dinged open.

Calum gently pressed his hand onto her back, guiding her into the elevator. She watched him press the 3rd floor from the lobby. He pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her. Their lips met once more, reminding them what brought them there in the first place. They got to his floor, and he led them to his apartment. She lightly pushed him against his door and claimed his lips. She let her hand wander down and gently palmed him as he grew harder in her hand.

Calum pulled her hand away, “My neighbor’s a cop, and I’m pretty sure he can arrest us for public indecency if we don’t stop.”

Odalis fake pouted at him, so he gave her a quick peck. He fished out his keys, and quickly opened his door and pulled her in. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it on his couch. She did the same and reached down to take off her boots. She rolled up her socks and shoved them in one of her boots. She fished out her phone and sent Sana and Destiny her location.

After shoving her phone in her bag, Calum pressed her against the wall, caging her in as he captured her mouth. His hands slid down and gripped her hips. He pulled away from her lips and kissed down her neck. He lightly nipped and licked her neck as he kissed her until he found her sweet spot.

He struggled a bit as he kissed her because Odalis wore a turtleneck. Had she known she’d end up like this, she wouldn't have worn it.

“Smell so sweet, like berries and sugar, ” he whispered in her ear before kissing her jaw.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

Calum slid one of his hands in her top and pulled down her bra, releasing her breasts. His hand came out and he lightly tugged at her nipples through her top. She let out an inhuman sound, making him snicker.

Odalis wrapped her arms around him, pulling him back to her lips. Her hands played with this curls as they kissed. She loved how soft they felt against her palms as she grabbed his head when he let her take over. Calum pulled her off the wall and pushed her against the couch as he kneeled down in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“This.”

Calum slowly opened her legs and put them over his shoulders. He ran his hands over her thighs before he bunched up her skirt around her hips.

“These are nice.” He commented on my burgundy lace panties, he traced the band and gripped them “Though, I hope you don’t like them too much.”

Odalis was too busy thinking about what she thought he was going to do to me that she almost missed the ripping sound of her panties.

“Hey! I liked those,” she scolded him as he tossed her ripped panties off to the side.

“You should’ve said something, sweetheart.”

He pulled her closer to his face, opening her legs more. She tried closing them.

“No one’s ever done this to me,” she heard herself say.

Calum looked up at her in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

She shook her head.

“Well, I guess I have the privilege to be the first to have a taste.”

Calum watched her squeeze her eyes shut, unsure of what he's going to do.

“Are you okay with me eating you out? Because I don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable,” he said. Relief filled her face when he said that. He got up from where he was kneeling.

“Are you mad?” she asked him quietly.

“Why would I be? Whatever we do, you have to be 1000% on board with. Yeah?” He ran his thumb over her cheek.

Calum left her speechless. She may lack sexual experience, but the handful of times she had sex, no guy has been patient with her. They never took time to make sure this was what she wanted. They all kinda just followed their own agenda.

Nonetheless she wanted this. She wanted him.

Calum let her do what she wanted. Even if he was to be with her just this one night, it was going to go about on her terms.

She gave him a devilish smirk as she unbuckled his belt and slipped her hand in his boxers. She slowly pumped him as he pulled her into a kiss.

Calum let out an incoherent groan as she pulled away from his lips and kissed down his jaw. All while her hand was still inside him. He couldn't handle her hand anymore, so he pulled her hand out of him and put it on his shoulder. He wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her off the couch. He carried her to his room, his lips never leaving mine.

Odalis took in his room. It was simple. Bed in the middle wall with a nightstand on each side. A tv on a tv stand across from his bed. Her eyes landed on a dog bed next to a chest.

"You have a dog?" she asked.

She could’ve sworn she didn’t hear any barking when they got here. It would have come out to see who was with their owner for sure.

Calum smiled thinking about Duke. “Yeah, but he’s at my mate’s. He likes taking him to the dog park, so he can meet women.”

“What kind of dog is he?”

“I’m not sure. I got him a few years back at a shelter. My other friend, Michael, suggested that I get a dog through a shelter. Which worked out perfectly because I wasn’t looking for a puppy. I wanted an older dog that could just hang out while I graded or made lesson plans. He loves going to Petco. It’s his sanctuary. You got any pets?” He asked her.

“Yeah, a brown and white pitbull-lab mix, her name’s Canela. My daughter named her because she reminded her of a cinnamon bun; canela means cinnamon in Spanish. My dad gave her to us for Christmas two years ago. He is a firefighter, and a month before Christmas there was a fire at this dog breeding place. Turns out the place bred dogs for dog fighting. They would breed the dogs and send them down to Tijuana, Tecate and Mexicali where they fought them. My dad found her in some corner under a bunch of ‘undisclosed items’ when they were clearing out the place. She was about 13 weeks old. I love her so much; she’s the best. I joked that it took my dad over 20 years to give me a dog.”

Calun smiled. He saw that she was very nurturing and kind, but there was more to her, which is why he wished this wasn't a one time thing.

“How did we go from about to have sex to talking about our pets?” she asked, bringing him back to reality.

Calum looked down at the tent in his pants, “I mean I don’t seem to have an issue with it. Then again how can I when you’re the view.” He said softly.

Odalis hid her face in his shoulder, embarrassed at the fact that was probably the nth time he made her blush. She took advantage and grabbed his neck and started kissing his jaw, nibbling it lightly. He let out a soft groan when she found his sweet spot once more.

He watched her face when he set her on the bed. She was processing something.

"Is something wrong?" He asked her.

"No just realized how strong you must be. You were able to have a whole ass conversation about our dogs while you held me up. Sure, you had me against the wall. But we talked as if I wasn't in your arms— and I'm rambling again."

"You're cute when you're not being a smartass, sweetheart." He smirked at her. She blushed once more and laid back on the bed.

Before climbing on, Calum slipped off his t-shirt and pants. He laid next to Odalis, waiting for her next move. He watched her sit on the edge of the bed. With her back to him, she slipped off her shirt. She looked over her shoulder to him and gave him a small smile.

Then Odalis got up and unzipped her skirt, throwing it to the pile of clothes and straddled his lap. Without leaving his eyes, she unclasped her bra. Calum cursed under his breath.

“Such a beautiful sight.” He whispered.

He let her push him down on the bed. Her hands delicately ran over his body like she was making sure he was real. He gave her hips a gentle squeeze before he slid his hands up to her breasts. His thumbs delicately run over her pert nipples as she melted into his hands. One of his hands made its way back to her hips and lazily ran his finger tips around her core, sending her goosebumps all over.

Odalis leaned down and kissed him. She sighed against his lips; she could never get tired of how his lips felt against hers. She pulled away and gasped as he pulled his middle and ring fingers out of her. She wasn't sure when they slid in her, but she wasn't complaining. She stared at him in awe as he quickly slipped them into his mouth and slowly licked them clean.

“Sorry,” He grinned shamelessly, slipping them back in her, “I wanted a quick taste.”

Odalis rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss him. She moaned as his fingers fucked into her at a deliciously slow pace. As if her hips had a mind of their own, they rode Calum’s fingers. In a matter of minutes she was close.

“Cal-”

“I know, sweetheart.” He pressed his thumb against her clit and increased his pace.

“Sh-Calum.” She moaned out.

Calum felt her body come undone. Her nails tightly dug into his chest as Odalis moaned out his name.

She had never come with that kind of intensity. The many times she's gotten herself off, she'd never felt so satisfied. If he can do that with just his fingers, she can’t imagine what he would do with his dick.

She rolled off him, breathless.

“You good?” He asked. He pushed some hair off her face.

“Yeah, I… I need a minute.” Odalis panted.

Calum smiled to himself. He reached over to the night stand, and grabbed a box of condoms from a drawer. He opened the box and pulled out a few. He set them next to his lamp.

Odalis rolled onto her side and kissed him once more. In a matter of seconds the kiss deepened, and they couldn't get enough of each other. Calum pushed her down on the bed and he hovered over her. He coated himself with her arousal, and gently pushed himself in her.

“Wait, condom," she said, pushing him off her. "I’m not on any birth control. I stopped using the pill a few years back because it fucked my liver. I’m not even on the other stuff since I don’t have sex enough to need it. I’m clean nonetheless—”

"I got that covered… literally." He said and gestured down.

Her eyes widened as she looked down at his condom covered cock. 'Hijo de su chingada madre. How’s that going to fit in me? He’d probably split me half,' she thought to herself.

“We good?” Calum asked.

“Um, yeah just be gentle. I've never been with someone so…you know… big."

"Of course."

With that he started to enter her.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight.”

After a few slow thrusts, letting Odalis get used to him, Calum sped up. He tilted her head up so he could kiss her. His lips and tongue kissed her at the pace he took her. He wrapped one of her legs around his waist and brought them closer as he continued to take her.

Calum entered her in one delicious stroke. Her breath hitched at how good it felt. Calum must have noticed, and continued to take her like that, stroking that spot in her. A few minutes went by and that familiar feeling came over Odalis. She knew she was about to come and so did Calum.

“Come on let go for me, sweetheart.” He encouraged her.

Odalis let go. Repeating Calum’s name over and over until her high faded.

"Can you take another?" Calum asked her.

"Yeah," She said breathlessly. "How do you want me?"

"Hands and knees." He said.

Odalis hesitated, nervous because she's never had sex like that.

"We don't have to if you don't want to." Calum quickly said. "We can just—"

"It's okay. I just never had sex like that, but I trust you." She smiled at him. She squeezed his hand and got on her hands and knees.

Calum pulled her closer to him. He pressed a few kisses on her back and pressed her shoulder down, so only her ass was in the air. He slowly slid back into her. He had a strong grip on her hips as he slowly began to speed up.

Odalis was close. The thought of how exposed she was to Calum made her body surrender to him. After a while, she felt Calum’s thrusts get messier. She was grateful for that because she was sure she wasn’t going to last any longer.

"Please Calum," she moaned out.

“Shit, sweetheart, please tell me you’re close.” he pleaded. She barely managed to nod.

It took everything in Calum not to come. He always made sure his partner came before him. He pushed himself off Odalis and took hold on her hips once more, holding her in place. He silently cursed when he released inside her but kept going until she came.

Calum gently laid Odalis on the bed next to him. He pulled off the condom and placed it in the bin next to the nightstand. She stayed quiet. Unable to process how he made her come twice.

After a few minutes he spoke up. “How about we wager it?” He suggested, sitting against the headboard. She looked up at him confused.

“Wager?” She sat next to him, pulling his bed sheet over her chest.

“Since you’re so adamant about not doing this ever again. How about, after tonight, if we ever see each other again, you go on a date with me? ”

“Fine,” she agreed.

“But for now, you’re min,.” he said.

He pushed her back on the bed and claimed her lips. She was in for a long night.

Taglist: @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicycal @sexgodashton @sunshinebabycal @another-lonely-heart

#aclum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood story #calum hood series #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fan fic #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fan fiction #teacher!cal #teacher!cal series

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Survivors” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

GIF CREDIT: http://gph.is/2h2hmM4

Request from anonymous: hi! i really love your writing so i was hoping i could make a request. could you do a daryl x reader where he meets reader at hill top when jesus takes them there for the first time. she’s like the person who handles a lot of their defense and she’s really tough and badass and she doesn’t really trust any of them yet. only if you want of course! 💘💘

Word Count: 2230

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Mustang Kids” by Zella Day

Note: I did end up making this GN. I am going to try and get more GN fics up, but I do tend to write with a more female centered voice and always have, but I am workin on it! Anyone have some tips on writing for Gender Neutral?

------

Daryl didn’t like Jesus, he didn’t trust Jesus, and he definitely didn’t want to meet any more of his people.

However, they needed food and Rick decided to accept the invitation. Daryl kept telling himself that he wasn’t going to play nice with the new people and that this was just going to be a transaction, nothing more.

After rescuing some of Jesus’ people on the road, the group headed into what Jesus had introduced as The Hilltop. Daryl wasn’t thrilled when their people suddenly began pointing spears at them. As soon as Jesus defused the situation, they walked through the tall gates of Hilltop and were surprised to see a semi-thriving community.

The Hilltop was vastly different from Alexandria. It looked as if the community lived more in the past rather than the present. Where Alexandria had solar panels, running water, and modern-day houses, The Hilltop focused on trailers, a blacksmith, and a large Colonial house that stood proudly at the center.

“That's called Barrington House,” Jesus explained, “The family that owned it gave it to the state in the '30s. The state turned it into a living history museum. Every elementary school for 50 miles used to come here for field trips. The place was running a long time before the modern world built up around it. I think people came here because they figured it'd keep running after the modern world broke down. Those windows up there let us see for miles in every direction. It's perfect for security. Come on. I'll show you inside.” Jesus gestured the group forward and they followed, keeping their hands on their weapons.

As everyone moved into the house, Jesus explained more about how they used the former museum and how they planned to grow Hilltop even further to account for the future. As he finished explaining the living situations, a new voice cut into the conversation.

“Jesus. You're back. With guests,” an older man said as he stepped out of a room on the main level. Jesus gave Rick a look that said ‘here we go’ and then turned to pleasantly greet the newcomer.

“Everyone, this is Gregory. He keeps the trains running on time around here,” he introduced. Rick decided to take the high road and go and introduce himself when Gregory cut him off and offered the group a place to wash up. Michonne was wary at first, but eventually, some people took him up on the offer, but not before Rick took Maggie aside and told her that she should be the one to speak to Gregory first.

As Maggie began negotiations with Gregory, Abraham and Daryl stood watch by the front door. While Jesus had been telling the truth about who the man was they saved, the community’s doctor, and that Hilltop was an actual place and not a trap, Daryl had relaxed slightly. However, he was still not dropping his guard completely.

When the front door to Barrington opened, Abraham stood up straighter. As the door shut, Daryl finally got a look at you. Just by the way you stood and examined Abraham, Daryl knew you were someone who held authority.

“You must be the crew that Jesus brought in,” you said, a slight twang to your voice. It wasn’t as thick as most Southerners, but Daryl could tell that you had picked up on the accent from just living down South.

“Abraham Ford,” Abraham introduced. You shook the hand he offered, returning his strong grip with one of your own.

“I’m (Y/N),” you said, “I’m the one behind all the defenses here.”

“I do like someone who can be strategic,” Abraham said with a nod of approval. He then nodded towards Daryl and you turned to greet him, however, you did not offer your hand as his own stayed by his side. “That’s Daryl.” Dixon nodded to you and you returned the gesture with a small smile.

It wasn’t much but it told Daryl that you were attempting to show that you weren’t there to fill them with lead, considering the Glock on your hip. In fact, that was the first gun he had seen since walking through the gates.

“Speaking of Jesus,” you continued, “know where I can find him?”

“He’s with your boss,” Daryl commented.

“Gregory?” you asked and he nodded. You sighed with a roll of your eyes.

“Not a fan?” Abraham asked, easily reading your body language.

“Gregory is an imbecile who thinks he can run this place better than Jesus and I,” you said, lowering the volume of your voice. “Word of advice, listen to Jesus before you listen to our ‘boss’. I’ll talk to him later.” With another nod, you turned on your heel and walked right back out into the sunlit community. Abraham then grinned at Daryl.

“Okay, them, I like.”

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

After the meeting with Gregory, Maggie and Rick looked at Daryl with a look that said “this isn’t going to be easy”.

Daryl had figured as much. While Gregory thought about a few things, Jesus invited the group to take a turn about Hilltop. After vaguely learning about everything that was going on around the area, Daryl didn’t want to think about having to fight again. He had done enough fighting since Atlanta. However, he also knew that Alexandria was a good thing for them and Rick was willing to do whatever it took to keep their new home.

Daryl walked with Michonne, Rick, Jesus, and Maggie, taking in everything that was going on. He could see Sasha and Abraham ahead of them, their tactical eyes scanning everyone and everything.

“If ya ain’t supposed to have guns,” Daryl said, pulling Jesus from his conversation with Maggie, “why does (Y/N) have one?”

“You met (Y/N)?” Jesus asked.

“They were lookin’ for ya,” Daryl explained.

“Ah, well they’re head honcho around here,” Jesus explained. “They’re former military and they know how to keep us safe. Without (Y/N), this place would have been overrun a long time ago.”

“If you have them,” Maggie said, “why do you still have an issue with whoever is messin’ with you?”

“Our enemies’ guns are bigger,” Jesus said with a sigh. “(Y/N) keeps theirs hidden whenever they come around and only ever takes a shot when it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Secret weapon,” Michonne said with an impressed look.

“More like secret Nuclear Bomb,” Jesus said. Daryl didn’t like the thought of an unknown enemy, nor did he like that The Hilltop was being run by an apparent moron. Gregory reminded him of the Governor but without the intelligence and military-grade weapons.

The mystery threat became very real when a sudden commotion drew Daryl and the others to the main area.

“Ethan, what happened to everybody else? Where's Tim and Marsha?” Gregory was asking a man that had just returned to Hilltop.

“They're dead,” Ethan said.

“Negan?

“Yeah.”

“We had a deal!” Gregory exclaimed. Rick looked at Daryl with wariness, causing the latter to shrug.

“He said it wasn't enough. Was the drop light?” Ethan asked.

“No, of course not,” Gregory said, but Daryl could sense a lie.

“They still have Craig. They said they'd keep him alive, return him to us, if I deliver a message to you.”

“So, tell me,” Gregory urged. Instead of answering the man approached his leader and frowned.

“I'm sorry,” he said before sheathing a blade into Gregory’s abdomen. Chaos ensued after that.

Across the yard, you watched on with an exasperated expression on your bored face. This wasn’t the first time inner fighting had happened and you were honestly tired of it.

You watched as the woman you heard the leader call Michonne, take one of your own to the ground in a single move. Daryl had taken down another who went for Abraham and in a major shock, the leader, you believed his name was Rick, slit open Ethan’s throat.

It wasn’t until the ground was covered in blood that Jesus finally noticed you. “A little help would have been nice,” Jesus said. You pushed off the post you were leaning against and approached the body on the ground.

“Cowboy here had it handled,” you said and then pulled your knife and stabbed Ethan in the head. “Besides, he was an asshole anyway.” Jesus sighed and then helped get Gregory to Dr. Carson. Glancing around at the new people, you weren’t sure what they were thinking.

However, you knew right then that even after knowing Negan, Rick was the scariest man you had ever met. “If it’s any consolation,” you said approaching the bloodied leader, “if it came down to a fight between you and the big bad, my money’s on you.”

---------

Later that night after Jesus had finally explained who Negan was and what the Saviors had done to The Hilltop and other communities, Daryl needed some air.

He walked around the community as Rick and Maggie talked with Jesus, trying to make a plan who would then talk to Gregory. Essentially, Alexandria was willing to take out the Saviors if The Hilltop was willing to share its resources. Daryl was also willing to bet that Rick would throw in a few extra guns if it meant the group got both food and allies.

As Daryl approached the main gate, he saw you standing on the watch post, a pair of binoculars in your hand. He hesitated for a moment before tightening his bow on his back and climbing the ladder.

It wasn’t just that you were a warrior in the new world, but Daryl felt drawn to you because he could sense that you were like him. Someone who had seen horrors before and after the end of the world. It was rare when someone came out harder on the other side rather than breaking down. He respected that greatly.

“Lookin’ for anything in particular?” Daryl asked. Dropping your binoculars you shook your head.

“Never really am,” you explained. “The Dead tend to keep their distance this far from larger plains and forests. As for people, well, they don’t come around since the Saviors put their boots on our necks.”

“Jesus explained who they were,” Daryl said, leaning on the makeshift railing.

“Real sons of bitches,” you said.

“You gonna lead any of yer people in the raid?” Daryl asked.

“I ain’t goin’,” you said, taking a swig from a flask on your hip. You offered it to the archer who shook his head. In the dark of the night, Daryl looked dangerous. You could tell by the way he watched the others around your home that he was a hunter. He may have just hunted animals back before the Turn, but now he had other targets in mind.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I prefer to be on the defense rather than the offense,” you explained. “Especially when it comes to these assholes.”

“Sometimes you gotta do both,” Daryl said. You laughed under your breath. Daryl reminded you of your old Sergeant. He was always telling you similar things when you were in basic and then more so as you moved up the ranks.

“You seem like a smart man, Daryl,” you said and he raised an eyebrow. “Try not to die, will ya? We need people like you.”

“Ya just met me,” Daryl said. “How can ya tell what kind of person I am?” he asked. Your brow furrowed as you thought about his question.

“I’ve known people like you,” you explained. “Survivors.” Daryl nodded and thought about all the survivors he had met and how they were now dead. Shane, Dale, Lori, Beth… he didn’t think it was enough to just survive anymore. Which is why he was willing to go along with the raid, kill as many Saviors as possible if it meant that his family could be safe.

“What about you?” Daryl asked.

“What about me?” you asked, staring out over the dark landscape.

“You a survivor?”

“So far,” you agreed. “I managed to tough it out this long without getting my throat torn out so I suppose that’s a start.”

“Have ya always been here?” Daryl asked, gesturing to Hilltop.

“No, I stumbled across Jesus one day. Needed a place to go, told him I could fight and so he offered me a place to stay for the night. Then, I just never left. Figured someone should be able to keep these people safe and Jesus couldn’t do it alone.”

“Right with his Ninja moves that look like somethin’ from a damn old action movie,” Daryl said with a snort.

“Seen those, have you?”

“Unfortunately,” Daryl sighed.

“He’s a good guy. Knew that the moment I met him.”

“So, yer good at readin’ people, are ya?” Daryl asked and you nodded.

“I am,” you admitted.

“And what’s yer opinion on me?” he asked. You were quiet for a moment and then decided on telling the truth.

“I don’t trust you, any of you. At least, not yet,” you admitted. Daryl seemed happy with that answer and then gestured to the flask. You handed it to him and he took a pull.

“Good,” he said, staring off into the night.

“Though,” you said, “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Don’t count on it,” he said with a scoff. Smiling at him, you took another pull of your drink, relishing in the subtle burn.

“I never do.”

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @yes-sir-hotchner

#twd imagines #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon x reader #twd #walkerwords #the walking dead imagines #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine

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demivampirew · 4 years

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Do I mean anything to you?

Soft and fluffy August x reader - one shot (This was inspired by a dream I had - yay! My first August dream! *heart eyes, motherf*cker*

Triggers: Talking about sex (mild smut); arguing; use of curse words; stalking (a bit)

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

Tag list: @lunedelorient @henrythickcavill @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @mary-ann84 @desperate-and-broken @peakygroupie @summersong69 @ivvitm1109 @madbaddic7ed @iloveyouyen @the-soot-sprite @hell1129-blog

- Hey, come back!- August shouted after you stormed out of the room. You were wearing a very sensual lingerie set with stockings and high heel shoes. - Fuck you!- you replied angrily. - Come on, don't be mad, you're killing the mood.-he tried to joke. - You must be insane if you think that I'll have sex with you now.-you exclaimed. - Oh, Jesus.- he said, rolling his eyes- you're so melodramatic. - You're kidding, right?- you asked annoyed- No, of course, you're not. You are an asshole. -Hey, be nice.-he warned you. - Or what? - you defied him. - Or daddy's going to punish you for being a bad girl.- he answered playfully as he approached you and tried to kiss you unsuccessfully since you moved quickly before he reached you. - You're not my daddy. That little fun play is over, get out!- you ordered him but he didn't move.- Get out!- you repeated yourself, screaming out loud. Again, he stood there with no intention to leave. Tears started to fall from your eyes but were from rage rather than pain, or at least that's what you thought. - I'm sorry.-he apologized, defeated.- I don't know what else to say to make you forgive me. - How about I'm sorry that I made you believe that I have any intentions of getting real with you when in reality you were just a pussy I can fuck whenever I want without giving a shit about your feelings.- you told him bitterly. He sighed. - Alright. Let's have the fucking date if that's going to make you happy.- he offered. - You're unbelievable!- now you were the one rolling your eyes. - Wasn't that the reason you got mad at me? Because you asked me to go out next week and I told you I don't want to go out, I prefer to meet like we were doing all the past few months.-he questioned you. - I'm mad because from the beginning you told me that you were on board on the idea of getting together and having a relationship, but so far you only seem interested on me when you need a hole to put it on.- you reproached him. You weren't so sure anymore that the tears were from anger. He sighed and walk to you, grabbing your face to force you to look him in the eyes. - Honestly, at first, I said the things I said because I just wanted to have sex and I assumed I'd never see you again, so who cares?- he confessed and quickly continued after seeing that you got even angrier- but then the sex was so good I wanted more and more and then I realized that I truly enjoyed your company.- he said firmly. - If that's the case, why you keep avoiding me, huh? Why you don't want to date me? Do you think you're too good for me? That I'm a whore no worthy of a man like you?- you asked frustrated. - I don't give a fuck about that. So no, is not that.- he paused and took a deep breath and then continued- I have a job, a serious one. I cannot publicly talk about my job and is better for you not to know. It keeps me busy but is also dangerous. Usually, believe it or not, I spent most of my free time with you. - Are you in some kind of gang?- you questioned worriedly. - No, let's say that is on the other side of that line.- he explained. - You're a cop? - Something like that. The less you know, the better it is.- August said. - That sounds like such a bullshit.- you pointed out, raising an eyebrow. He sighed and took his wallet from his pant's pocket and showed you his CIA identification. You looked at it and then at him. - Happy? - he questioned you. After a moment he put it back on its place. Then, he starred at you and then lifted your chin with his finger.- Are you willing to accept that there are things about my life that need to be a secret, for your best interest, and that often I'll have to leave the country out of the blue and that I might spend weeks apart? - he wanted to know and you nodded.- Would you like to be my girlfriend then? - he requested. - Yes.- you agreed, pouting a bit because you were still upset from the fight. He kissed you and all those feeling went away. That was the reason you forgot about how much it hurt him neglecting you: his hisses that made you feel as if you on the top of the world. How amazing it felt his hands, tongue and lips explore your body; the burning sensation from your groins every time he fucked you. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a great listener. You didn't know much about his life, but for sure he knew yours almost completely. Even when you had rough sex, he would reciprocate every kiss and tenderly touch your body with his lips. He never said not to after sex snuggling. He was cold but sweet. But now, with this huge revelation, you understood better why he was how it was and you felt much better. He carried you back to the bed and let him fuck you until almost the breaking down.

August was fucked up and he knew it. With all the things happening, having a girlfriend was no the greatest idea. If word about his relationship came into the wrong ears, you could be in danger and he'd hate himself for that. He didn't lie to you. At first, you was just a pretty woman who he wanted to have a little of fun with, but then he wanted more of what you had to offer and then sex became just one of the reason he went to visit you: you were the happy side of his life, he loved to hear you talk about things you loved and complain about your family or co-workers. He protected you all that time without you finding out. He installed a camera in every access to your house in which he could access from an app on his phone and his computer. He needed to know that no enemy knew about you and hurt you to get to him. But now that wasn't enough. He'd do the unimaginable to protect his lady.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker one shot #august walker smut #smut #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

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serendipitous-posts · 4 years

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There’s this sheet of ice right? Hundreds and hundreds of meters thick, strong and sturdy and stretching for miles. And then one day, humans appeared on the ice, building cities and roads. They conquered and explored and evolved, creating new things, new ideas, always, always searching, until one day, they nodded, satisfied, because they had finally explored every square inch of their world.

“weren’t you scared?” The children ask them, eyes wide “of demons?” and the adults will tell them, bright and brave and bold that they scanned and double and triple checked, and that there were no demons or monsters, there never had been “they’re just stories” they soothe their young ones, before ushering them off to bed

They all share stories and laugh at how naive they had been back then, believing in things like monsters and demons and devils when the only thing they had to fear on their travels were wild animals, mother nature and their fellow man

The ice is thick, so thick you can’t see to the other side, can’t see the water underneath. Can’t see the creatures that swim beneath it. Nobody knows how deep it is. It doesn’t even occur to anybody that there may be something beneath the ice, waiting

Ben tells this story sometimes, when his siblings or a reporter ask him about the Horror. Above the ice he explains, is their world, earth and everything in it, and below the ice is it’s world.

They never really get it, but he never really expects them to

Here’s the thing you have to understand about the Horror: it’s not just tentacles that come out of Ben’s stomach, it had it’s own body and it is huge. If it were to try and force it’s way out of Ben’s stomach, he would be ripped in half

(in another universe, a funeral is held)

In this universe, Ben is brought up to believe that the Horror is bad, is evil is wrong but it wasn’t always this way

When he was a kid, the Horror was his Belly Friend- someone who would tickle him and he would stroke it and feed it scraps. It was kind of like having your own personal best friend inside of you

His father, sensing his son was having Positive Thoughts, decided to devote the rest of his life to Stopping That

Ben & the Horror are symbiotic- they’re supposed to work together and care for each other. But that’s not what happened

The two are connected to each other, always and forever. They can feel eachothers emotions and even, when they were younger, thoughts

The Horror cannot speak, at least not human, but that’s okay because Ben understood him anyways.

(little number six grows up learning languages no human should speak, words that could rupture organs and tear through flesh)

(it makes his father nervous so he puts a stop to it)

They can only communicate to eachother when they want to, and overtime, Ben starts tuning it out, shutting it out

Luther wants to impress his father, Allison wants to be famous, Diego wants to be free, Klaus wants his powers gone, Five wants to know, Vanya wants acknowledgement outside of her powers

Ben? Ben just wants to be good

He reads books on heroes and villians and takes their ideas and black and white thinking and places it in his world-the real world

He tries to do what the pure, idealistic heroes do- he makes himself available to every member of the household, he puts them first, always. He never, ever ever tries to get angry

Someone suggests that whenever he gets mad, it’s not him it’s the Horror, and he leaps at that idea, because he can’t be angry, Good People are supposed to forgive, to let go

(Klaus and Five and Vanya always look sad when he says that. Well, Five looks constipated but close enough)

Whenever he feels hurt or angry or too agitated he just locks those emotions away and shoves them at the Horror to deal with

And as he’s shut out more and more by his family, he tries to compartmentalise all his hurt feelings, by repressing them, by blaming the Horror

Remember when Klaus resurected Ben and he was able to summon the Horror? Yeah there’s a reason for that. It isn’t part of Ben’s body. It’s part of Ben’s soul. It is Ben. They’re two halves of one whole

And here’s what dear ol’ dad never quite figures out; The Horror gets more unstable the more unstable Ben is yes, but the two are supposed to be one. It’s not just Ben’s feelings towards everyone else that makes it so shaky, it’s Ben’s feelings towards it. Because, like it or not, the Horror is a part of Ben. They are two creatures sharing one body. One soul. They are supposed to be co-existing peacefully, but Ben’s self-hatred is messing things up

So, yeah, Five comes back with a warning about the apocalypse. Ben, worried for the whole fate of humanity thing, forgets to take his pills (i haven’t decided if Harolds in it, but i am planning to make ben a famous author working under a penname so maybe they could meet through that? i dunno)

Five is worried about Ben. His last memories of his family, the first three had been distant, yes, but not like this. And Klaus and Vanya were acting like it as well.

(Luther may or may not think Ben killed dad in this)

But that worry pales in comparison to Ben himself. He doesn’t. . . seem right. He’s too blank, too expressionless too calm about certain things

(his ben had been shy and anxious and snarky and sarcastic . . what happened?)

Hell, maybe Ben didn’t actually forget to take his medication? Maybe Five figured out his dad was dulling his baby brothers emotions and took the bottle away, not knowing it was stopping his powers

You bet your ass that Klaus was pissed when he found out about the pills though, and that Ben kept it from him

That’s actually a big thing here- the others find out Ben had been taking pills to supress powers for years and kept it from them. Klaus and Allison are pissed, because they would have wanted them at some point

And even though they don’t really know it, they have been conditioned to blame Ben for their troubles for their problems. Allison probably thinks that if she had the medication she never would have rumoured Claire, and the divorce never would have happened. Klaus is obvious. The others are all hurt that he has lied to them for years now

The problem with having everyone you know dehumanising someone, is that you start to believe that that person isn’t actually a human being. It happens in families that don’t have kids with actual eldritch abominations living in their stomach, you can bet it happens here

Sometimes, they all lie awake and remember that none of them are natural, and when you know that is it such a weird thought to have that maybe one of your brothers is maybe less natural than the others

(after a while, even ben starts to believe it)

Five tries to break it up because jesus what is wrong with you people

And Ben has been off his medication for his while at this point- not too long, a handful of hours but the Horror has been caged for years now, and it wakes up and it roars

Ben has to leave the house before he does something rash and Five reads his siblings the riot act before heading out on his own once more to try and fix the mess that is the future, leaving Ben alone again

But the anger is growing now, bouncing between the two halves, like a feedback loop, growing stronger each time. Ben breaks down in tears as the Horror howls under his skin, because the man that did this to them is dead, and they can never get revenge for all the shit he put them through

Except . . he’s not the only one who hurt him. He thinks of his siblings, shutting him out and mocking him and hating him. Revenge? The Horror thinks, the first time since they were six in age and not just name that he has been able to hear their voice

Ben should say no, should explain that they are supposed to be good and that he loves them except . .

He is so, so tired of trying to be good. So tired of this runaround, of trying to please his siblings, of being pushed around for no reason other than their dad told them to

He can taste his own rage, finally after all these years, bottled up from years of abuse and neglect, exploding outwards in a violent explosion

Ben and Horror are two halves, but they’ve never really come together, been whole before. But now . .

The two become one. They are not Ben. They are not Horror.

They are hungry and sad and hurt and scared and angry

So very, very angry

There we go! I always liked the idea of Ben and the Horror, in a desperate act, fusing and becoming one creature. I have no idea what Horror!Ben would look like btw. He wouldn’t look human at least- I like to imagine the Horror is roughly the size of a skyscraper and looks like a cross between a squid and snake and cthulhu. They’re still the same size as Ben, obviously, but they look sort of demonic. Probably have scales and stuff

#Cthulhu au #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy au #umbrella academy allison #umbrella academy vanya #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #the horror

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twokinkybeans · 3 years

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The Arachnoids: ROCK BAND AU [Starker] - Chapter 8: FADING FACADE

READ “CHAPTER 8: FADING FACADE” ON AO3

Find the masterpost with all the chapters linked here!

Taglist: @crystallinecrimsonmoth & @staticwhispersinthedark (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Note/warnings: PS: A quick trigger warning: There will be a panic/anxiety attack and anxiety-related problems will be discussed, including meds and drug allergies.

Chapter 8: Fading Facade (Tony’s POV)

“Everything,” Tony hears himself whisper. “Everything’s wrong.”

The second the words fall from his lips Tony knows he should’ve kept quiet. He’s never lost control like this before. Not with anyone around, that is. His chest tightens. He can’t breathe. He can’t speak. Tony lets himself sink onto the edge of the double bed and presses his palms into his thighs. He’s very aware of the signals his body gives off but there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Not with this damned mantra flickering in the back of his mind.

You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up.

“Tony?” Peter’s voice pierces through the cloudy thoughts. Tony looks up warily and finds a pair of worried, deep-brown eyes searching his face. “Hey…” “I’m alright,” Tony chokes out. “Let’s just sleep.” “I… Don’t you wanna talk about it?” “No.” He can keep his facade up for a little while longer. He has to. ‘Cause if he doesn’t, who knows what might become of him?

Tony, honest to God, doesn’t know what to do. All these years and no one had ever found out about Morgan before. No one has seen the many videos on his phone filled with the girl’s sweet giggles and her never-ending stream of questions. No one’s seen her eyes sparkle with curiosity whenever she explores something new. He still remembers what it feels like to hold her small body in his arms. Always squirmy, the little queen. But now, Peter has seen a picture of her. Tony ponders not telling a thing. But what if that leads to Peter asking other people about it? That’d be the true disaster. Then, everyone would know.

“The kid in the picture,” he whispers quietly. Peter’s head perks up. “That’s Morgan. Eh, my daughter.” “You have a daughter?!” Peter exclaims in surprise, his eyes wide and shocked. The boy quickly realizes what he’s doing and he lowers the volume of his voice. “How…?” Even now, Tony’s snarky comebacks get the better of him. Especially now. “I’m pretty sure you know how children are conceived, space boy,” Tony says, voice still painfully fragile. Peter huffs quietly.

“I mean… Does anyone know? Like-” The boy stutters, clearly trying to find the right words to not upset him. “-I’ve never heard of this before.” “Yeah. That’s the way it should be.” “Why?” “I don’t want her to grow up, not knowing who she can or cannot trust, simply ‘cause of her father’s fame.” Peter seems to contemplate that for a second, and somehow, the boy radiates such… serenity. Enough for Tony’s legs to stop moving. For now. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good point.” Peter pauses. “But… How does that tie to everything being wrong?”

Instantly, Tony’s heartbeat picks up again and his fingers clench involuntarily. “You ask too much,” he breathes. “No offense, but you keep shit to yourself too much.” “Mh-” is all that Tony answers to that. The boy is eerily perceptive. Tony sighs. He has to admit that it doesn’t feel too bad talking to Peter.

“It… Doesn’t tie together at all. Not really,” Tony finally mumbles. God, he can’t believe he’s saying it out loud. “Somehow, I’ve developed a drug allergy for my anxiety meds. We’ve tried different types, but nothing works…” He scoffs. “Lucky me.” “Oh, uhm, so you’ve got anxiety then?” “Yeah,” Tony sighs. “My mind just… Doesn’t stop. Never. Not without the meds.” “Is that why you’re… y’know, eh- So tense all the time?” “Nice choice of words,” Tony laughs. “You can call me an asshole. I don’t mind. I know how shitty I am - don’t worry.” He hates how self-loathing it sounds. But then, he does loathe himself, so where’s the lie? “The anxiety’s the reason Pepper keeps Morgan away from me.”

“Wait what?” Peter’s eyes widen. “What happened?” “Nothing happened. I swear- I might be a wreck, but whenever Morgan is around it’s different, y’know? My focus is on her. Fully.” Tony breathes out. Dammit, he can’t believe he’s telling Peter all of this. Peter doesn’t push for more, instead, he waits for Tony to keep talking. Tony sniffs. “I still have my emergency meds though. They’re much stronger, not meant for daily use. They make me sleepy and foggy and unattentive. I’ve never taken one with Morgan there, but Pepper… She thinks it’s a hazard. In her eyes, it makes me a bad father.”

Tony presses his lips together and feels another wave of tears flood his eyes. “Pepper and I never dated. Morgan was, eh, an accident from a one night stand. “I’ve supported Pepper from day one. I paid for everything she and Morgan could possibly need. I even canceled shows to babysit her whenever she wanted a night off…” “How long has this been going on for?” Peter asks quietly. Tony shrugs. At this point he, funnily enough, told Peter so much he doesn’t even care about oversharing anymore. His secrets are out anyway. “My drug allergy started about a year ago. I haven’t seen her in eight months…” Tony laughs bitterly. “You remember my ‘shitty day’ on New Year’s Eve? Pepper was supposed to come to watch the show with Morgan. Of course, not backstage for their privacy- but in the crowd, y’know? I’d meet them a few blocks away before the show…” Tony swallows. “Pepper never showed up and blocked my number and social media.”

“Jesus fuck,” Peter mutters. “That’s… I can’t believe she’d do that. Tony, for real, can’t you just sue her?” “I could,” Tony says quietly. If he’d get a dollar for each time that that thought crossed his mind, he’d be a billionaire by now. “But it’s only a matter of time before some crap journalist finds out. I’d throw Morgan in the spotlights and that’s the one thing I don’t want.” “Right, I… I didn’t think about that.” Peter shakes his head. “Fuck.” “Yeah, it’s a real Catch-22.” “What’s that?” “Doesn’t matter. I’m fucked. That’s what it means.” Tony stands up from the bed, suddenly restless. He paces back and forth. The room is so infinitely small and he groans. His chest aches when the reality of his own words hit home full force.

“I’m fucked, so fucked. Goddammit!”

Tony had been somewhat calm throughout the talk. Now, his fingers are tingling and it’s only then that he notices his shallow breathing. “Fuck,” he rushes out and reaches for his small travel bag. “Talking about Xanax, I’m gonna need one now- I need…” He should’ve known that talking about this was inevitably going to set him off. He wishes he didn’t need it. He wishes Peter wouldn’t see him like this. But he knows that if he doesn’t take one he’s not going to calm down anytime soon. “Need water?” Peter asks, clearly trying to help. Tony just nods, unable to say anything else. His fingers finally find the bottle with his pills and he chews on his bottom lip as he tries to open the lid. His hands are shaky, though, and his panic grows when he can’t seem to take it off.

“Here,” Peter gently mumbles. “Lemme help.” The boy crouches down and takes the bottle from Tony’s hands. He opens it and hands Tony one of the pills together with a glass of water. Tony gratefully takes it- too tired to fight it. He sticks the pill into his mouth and quickly chugs it down with the water. He knows he’s still gonna have to wait for the actual effects to kick in, but knowing how he’ll feel once it does, helps him to not lose himself to the whims of his body.

“I’m… Just gonna lie down,” he mutters. “Can you maybe, uhm, God, I’m sorry. Can you maybe distract me a bit until I calm down?” “Of course. Wanna hear about the early days of The Arachnoids?” Peter suggests while Tony crawls under the covers. He tugs his legs into his chest and closes his eyes. No more thinking. Peter doesn’t second-guess Tony’s request and that tugs at Tony’s heart. Peter’s been nothing but nice, even helping him after being such an asshole to him for days on end. Tony knows he doesn’t deserve this, knows he- “Alright, so, we had to do this weird as fuck school project once. MJ was the first one who came up with…”

Thirty minutes later, Tony finally starts to feel the familiar, drowsy feeling he’s been longing for so much. Peter’s still talking. Tony isn’t actively listening to the words anymore. Instead, he lets Peter’s voice rain down on him. He never realized quite how pleasant the boy’s voice is. Soft and warm, with hints of excitement seeping through whenever he tells a part he’s passionate about. It’s nearly meditative. “...and then we got the invite to play for The Avengers, and that’s where we are now!” Peter ends his story, voice cheerful and light.

“Thank you,” Tony whispers and he hates how much his voice still wavers. “I needed that.” A small breath leaves Peter’s lips before he speaks. “Of course, Tony. I’m here whenever you need me, ‘kay?” “Y-yeah. Okay.” Tony tugs at the sheets to hide his body underneath it a little more. The soft, thick fabric feels so incredibly soothing against his skin that it nearly makes him tear up again. He stares when Peter’s head turns to look at him, the glimmering of the boy’s eyes reflecting the tiny bit of light that still enters the room through the curtains. “If you need a hug,” Peter whispers so gently it’s almost unfair. “-I’m right here. All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t need a hug,” Tony mutters before he even realizes it. “That’d… Be weird, wouldn’t it?” Tony already feels weak enough. Admitting he needs a pair of strong arms around him is something he could never do. “Alright, what if we flip it around, huh?” Peter smiles. “If I’d say I want to give you a hug right now, would you accept it?” “I…” Tony frowns and blinks a few times when he realizes that, while it’s the same thing, somehow this doesn’t trigger any form of resistance inside of his body. He’s painfully aware of the point Peter’s making here. “Yes.”

Peter hums and shifts a little closer. Tony swallows when he feels how the boy’s arms wrap around his rigid body. The first thing Tony notices is how soft and warm Peter’s skin is. The second thing is how Peter cuddles up to him completely. Yes, that feels so good.

The third thing… He can’t even think about that anymore. His mind drifts off into the dark depths of his mind. The darkness doesn’t swallow him, though. No. It’s warm. And cozy.

Safe.

Next Chapter >> 9: Wary Words

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

Whether It Works Out Or Not Part Three

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome kids, welcome to the conclusion! I hope you've liked this little foray into the Wild West. Enjoy!

[Spoiler warning for the first three chapters of the game!]

Tag List: @huliabitch @cookiethewriter @pedrosbigdorkenergy @thirstworldproblemss @anonymouscosmos @culturalrebel @karmezii @teaofpeach @crookedmoonsaultpunk @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @nelba @gabrielle1776 @toxiicpop @mstgsmy @misty-possum

Part One: Strangers

Part Two: Friends

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains unprotected sex, historical inaccuracies and allusions to previous abuse. Stay safe!]

If he had so glibly dubbed Linton perishing of pneumonia as bad business, he dreaded to come up with a term for whatever Irene had gone through. Christ, spousal discipline. A victim of the so-called 'gentlemen' that brought their wives to heel with the rod, coverture at its goddamn finest. It had always made Arthur's chest tight, made him see red, had him raring to give them a taste of their own medicine despite Dutch's constant preaching about an eye for an eye only makes the world blind.

Womenfolk, for all Arthur's troubles with one in particular, deserved to be seen and heard as much as anyone else. Shit, from a biblical standpoint they were supposed to be cherished, protected, defended if they needed it. Arthur was not a pious man by any stretch; the blood on his hands had him thoroughly convinced of his prime spot in Hell come Judgement Day. But if he needed to resort to thumping the good book to get his point across, he damn well would. Fine gentlemen may not fear overmuch the wrath of one Arthur Morgan, yet they certainly feared for the salvation of their wretched, mealy little souls.

Irene's brown eyes were dark and surprisingly dry as she watched him watch her, the tales she told painting the late Mr. Carson as no man, but a fiend in man's clothing.

Arthur felt a lump form in his throat when she spoke of selling off her damn hair just so she could get free of that bastard. It was clear that after what she had suffered, nearly dying on the side of a mountain was a veritable paradise. She'd had to learn everything the hard way, taking all that she had read about and painstakingly putting it into practice. That she was still alive was a goddamn miracle. A miracle that Arthur didn't feel like testing the charity of. Providence had kept her safe thus far, but just how damn long did she expect that to hold?

What if someone else had found her in that trap? What if he hadn't been hunting that bear? Hell, what if one of those boys from Lemoyne had come across her bathing today? Arthur gritted his teeth. Granted, she wasn't defenseless, not by a long shot, but lone wolves didn't tend to last out in the wilds. It had been sheer coincidence that nothing far worse had happened.

"Come back to camp with me." He interrupted her to offer, his voice rough. "I...me an' the gang, we can keep you safe there. You ain't gotta' live like this anymore, that feller's dead. He can't come to drag you back to that...misery."

She shook her head, her smile sad. "I've been on my own for too long, Arthur. I'm used to it."

"Please." He begged. "I don't...if...look, I...I don't want you to…" he trailed off, frustrated by his inability to articulate the confusing emotions roiling in his chest. "Hell, I dunno'." He muttered, shoving the toe of his boot into the dirt. "Scared for you, I guess."

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"What if it wasn't me?" He retorted. "What if every time, it was-"

"It was you, though." Irene interjected softly. "I won't deny that our paths crossing again and again seems like fate, or divine intervention."

Arthur huffed out a breath. "I s'pose, but-"

"You needed someone to listen, and I needed someone to show me kindness."

"Well sure, but-"

"If you had bedded me in Valentine, would that have satisfied your curiosity?" Irene inquired primly. "Nipped your fascination in the bud?"

"Shit, no." Arthur finally managed to get a word in edgewise, shaking his head. "I...you seemed real sweet. Pretty. Sad, in a secret way. I wanted...but then you said all those things and I...I ain't never met a woman that seemed to see me like how you did, Miss Irene. Most folks just see what they can get outta' me."

"I always saw you, Arthur. From the first time we met on the side of that mountain." Irene told him, her voice gone soft once more. "I saw your smile, and your beautiful eyes, and the way you were willing to help. It made me want to help you too."

"M-My--? Shucks, ma'am, I ain't...I mean my eyes is...uh." Arthur yanked at the collar of his shirt. Despite it being unbuttoned, he suddenly felt as though it was too tight. "Well, you're one to talk about beautiful eyes!" He blustered, feeling his gut twist when she looked surprised of all things. "What, ain't anyone ever said somethin' nice to you before? You got nice eyes! And a good heart! Smart words, too, you're intelligent! Shit--I mean, shoot, sorry, ain't tryin' to swear in front of you." He rushed to apologize, worrying at the brim of his hat. "I'm just off-balance is all, ma'am, forgive me."

She waved off his apology, laughing. "Don't be so uptight, Arthur! It's still me."

"But it ain't, that's the thing. I…" he paused yet again, fumbling in his satchel for his journal. "I-I haven't stopped thinkin' of you, Miss Irene. What I'd say if I ever ran into you again." Opening the book to the first sketch of her, he turned it around so she could see. "I never came up with anythin', though. Aside from 'thank you'."

Instead of staying where she was, she approached and sat down alongside him. Those fingers, just as reverential as the first time 'Frank' had seen his sketches, ran down the lines of her face on the page.

They weren't perfect. His memory of her had been blurry with drink and many of his sketches had been scribbled out or erased into gray smudges in frustration. "They're beautiful." She whispered.

"No, you're beautiful." Arthur murmured before he could think better of it. "Nothin' that I could make would ever do you justice, Miss Irene."

She was flushed already from the fire, her hair slowly drying into a wild mess of sun-streaked curls that he longed to run his fingers through. "I wouldn't say that." She tried to deflect his words, smiling shyly down at her hands.

She had been married. Her acting like what he was doing was something new had Arthur damn near distressed. He cupped her chin with his hand, keeping his touch as light as he could bear while he tipped her face up to look at him. "I would."

"You would?" Her tongue darted out to soothe her dry lips, stirring a half-forgotten memory in his mind of her making some sound into his mouth as he kissed her.

"I sure would." He drawled, tilting his head and lowering his mouth to hers. The little whimper that came out of her settled in his abdomen. Was this a bad idea? Probably. "Take the shirt off."

"You told me to put it on!"

"And now, I'm askin' you to take it off." Arthur growled, pressing his mouth against the shell of her ear and breathing, "please."

Irene shivered all over, clinging to his hands like she was trying to keep her composure. Lord knew Arthur's own composure had never been particularly ironclad. She finally released him, her fingers trembling when she reached for the hem of the shirt.

"Easy girl, only if you want to." Arthur pressed a kiss to her cheek, "only if you're willin'. I ain't so brash to believe that you bein' alright with this one time before means that you'd be okay with it now."

"You…" Irene hesitated. "I've never been allowed to say no, Arthur."

Oh, Jesus, that hurt. "Well now you can. Any time. Right now, in the middle, whenever." He forced the words out past his muted, secondhand horror. "I'll stop. I'm not...this ain't about somebody gettin' hurt, okay? This is...I'm tryin' to make you feel good. That's all I want."

Irene squinted up at him, her disbelief evident. "So...it can be good? That's not just something they put in the books so women don't decide to never get bedded?"

Oh Jesus. "Oh, Jesus." Arthur scrubbed helplessly over his stubble with one hand, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't come off as terrifying or lecherous. "So, you...b-but you was married." He floundered.

"Yes?"

"He ain't...I mean you never-?"

"I have never been kissed like you kissed me before, if that answers your question."

"Well, yes and no. I-I reckon yes." Arthur stammered. "Alright, let me...I'll pitch my tent and we'll have a lie down and I'll...I-I guess I'll do my damnedest."

Jesus, he needed a minute. Just a momentary reprieve while he fumbled to unlash the canvas from Chase's back. Christ, his mind was going like Hell's wheels. She had never known pleasure from lying with a man. Never. To the point where she thought it was fabricated. One more nail in that devil's coffin, he supposed. Lord, Arthur prayed he was up for this.

She wanted to help him set up the tent and Arthur had to laugh, his nerves easing a bit at the petulant way she demanded to hold the guylines taut for him. "It's ungentlemanly for me to expect you to help out with stuff like this," he tried to explain.

"If you start pulling some nonsense about how I'm a delicate flower, you will regret it." Irene informed him firmly. "I haven't gotten this far to be treated like glass, Mister Arthur."

"Well, you certainly wasn't protestin' that treatment in Valentine." He chuckled, watching her face go bright red.

"I-I was caught off-guard, that's all! Fell back into old habits!"

"Oh shoah." He shrugged, still grinning. Thunder rumbled in the distance and he quickly opened up the tent flap with a broad, sweeping bow. "After you, ma'am."

She smiled at him and Arthur was hard-pressed to think of a prettier sight than that, the woman sidling past him to enter the tent after she had gathered up her still-damp things.

Arthur Morgan did not consider himself a good man. He did not consider himself a particularly smart man either. But every once in a while even his life could pan out with gratifying and interesting results. Such as an attractive woman who had been masquerading as an attractive man ending up in his tent, waiting on him to show her the...primitive ecstasies of the flesh.

He took his time before joining her however, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette and scan the perimeter of the grove, an idle hand on his revolver.

He definitely wasn't stalling. Definitely wasn't trying to compose himself before he got out of pocket with her. But Jesus, what he would love to do if she was willing!

The sunlight began to wane as the clouds rolled in and Arthur stubbed out his cigarette, carefully saving the remainder for later. No telling when he'd get his hands on a fresh pack, and the last chew he'd indulged in had been so strong it nearly burned a hole in his lower lip. Better to stick to the sticks.

He entered the tent to find Irene sitting cross-legged on her bedroll, still in his shirt (and Lord, that was a whole other article that he needed to address about himself), and she looked up at him expectantly as he ducked his head so he didn't bump the side of the tent. "Was just makin' sure everythin' is safe, Miss Irene." He explained, tying the tent flaps together. Arthur then began the process of unbuckling his holster belt, carefully hanging it from the support by the door. He had only stayed alive this long because Hosea had taught him to always have a revolver within reach. "You nervous?" He asked conversationally while he dropped his hat by the door.

"Perhaps a bit." Irene replied, her truthful words giving him pause. "I am optimistic, however."

"I ain't gonna' hurt you, but you need to be honest with me, okay? Won't hurt my feelin's none if you tell me you don't like somethin'." Arthur assured her, "I can adapt."

"Thank you, Arthur."

Oh Jesus, there it was again. Like a hot brick in his stomach, an intoxicating combination of wariness and arousal. He knelt beside her, tangling his fingers greedily through her short, thick curls. He could feel her trembling slightly, which was...sobering. "Ain't gonna' hurt you." He soothed, making a shushing noise. "Ain't gonna' hurt you. You're okay."

Wide brown eyes stared up at him and Irene nodded slowly.

"You trust me, Miss Irene?" Arthur asked quietly.

Another nod.

"Good." Arthur cupped her face and crushed their mouths together without further ceremony. She gasped into his mouth, her hands finding purchase on his chest where she proceeded to cling to him. He only vaguely remembered how she had reacted to his kiss before, her body threatening to collapse against his own in that cramped little garret that the Saints Hotel considered a rentable room.

"Arthur," she breathed shakily, kissing him at an almost fevered speed. "Is this really how it's supposed to be?"

"Is it good?"

"Oh yes, so good, I-"

"That's the important part sorted, then. Rest'll take care of itself." Arthur nibbled on her lower lip, his teeth gentle in case she needed to pull away. If anything though, she pressed closer. He was pleasantly surprised when she timidly slipped him her tongue, illustrating his enthusiastic approval by welcoming it with his own. "Can I touch you?" He gasped against her lips, his forehead resting on her own. They were fully in each other's space now, but he knew that could change in an instant.

"Please, please." Irene begged, clutching his hands.

"Can I take off the shirt? Can I see you?" was his next question, loaded as it was.

"I…" Irene paused. "I don't know if...you'd want to, honestly."

"Oh believe me, I want." Arthur insisted. "If you want, I want."

"Just like that?"

"Don't need to be any more complicated than that, ma'am." Arthur kept his hands still. "Just a little heavy pettin' even, if that's all you're lookin' for. But I can make you feel real good."

"Heavy petting?" Her brow furrowed. "I'm...unfamiliar, Mister Arthur."

"Yeah, y'know, heavy pettin'. You kinda' just...I mean you uh. Touch. A lot. Usually." He struggled to explain, again finding himself walking the line of trying not to scare her while still giving her the information she sought. "Demonstration? I ain't so good at this." He finally suggested ruefully.

Irene nodded and Arthur drew his index fingers over her collarbone, framing it briefly before he slipped further down. Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he cupped her breasts through the undershirt, letting their weight rest in his palms.

He had to clear his throat before he spoke next. "Okay?" Irene nodded, her expression almost laughably serious. "I'm gonna' move my thumbs now. Just gentle, no pinchin'." Arthur informed her. "You let me know if that's okay."

"Mmhm." She inhaled sharply the second he grazed over her nipples, a little hiccup leaving her. Arthur had never encountered that particular reaction and he lingered in the same spot, swiping his thumbs back and forth across the soft mounds of her breasts. He felt her body begin to react, her nipples waking underneath his touch.

"Okay?" He rasped, his throat dry all of a sudden. Irene looked...drowsy, almost, the woman biting her lower lip and just watching his hands move.

"Feels good." She whispered. "I...I think I like it?"

"You ain't sure yet? Want me to stop?"

Arthur barely got the question out before she said, "no!", flushing immediately afterwards. "I-I mean no, please...please keep going?" She requested, not meeting his eyes.

He chuckled, "okay then. Just relax. I've got you, Miss Irene." Her hands fumbled for purchase on his suspenders and Arthur was delighted when she shoved them off over his shoulders, the woman whimpering as he removed his hands from her briefly to slip out of the loops. "Shh, I'm right here." Arthur murmured, returning to his previous ministrations.

"I don't know what to do." Irene breathed, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "What do I do, Arthur? Can't j-just--" her voice hitched, fingers digging into his upper arms as he continued to gently stroke her. "Sit here, not doing anything."

"Lemme' take care of you for a l'il bit, okay?" The older man offered softly. At his insistence, she laid back, propping herself up on her elbows and then gifting him a tender little cry when he dipped his head to mouth and tease at one of her nipples through the shirt's thin fabric.

Rain began to patter on the tent's canvas roofing, dulling the sounds of the surrounding woodlands. It was like a curtain being drawn, shielding Arthur from the outside and narrowing his world down to nothing but the woman currently arching her entire body up in search of his mouth. Irene reached for him blindly, her hands so delicate in his own when he laced their fingers together and pressed his lips back to her breast through the shirt's material.

She writhed beneath him, little noises of desperation issuing from her without much preamble. It was as if she was starved for touch. In a way, Arthur supposed dimly, they both were. Her guarding her secret, trying her hardest to be cautious and he keeping his own secrets, trying to work around the blatant duality of his existence.

We're thieves in a world that don't want us no more.

But here, here, in this sheltered glade, the two of them might find a moment of reprieve. A haven.

Irene grasped at the hem of the shirt, going to tug it over her head and immediately getting stuck because she hadn't unbuttoned it first. The woman thrashed, nearly elbowing Arthur in the face, and he couldn't help the way his laughter exploded out of him. "Whoa there! Easy, hold on." He said, lending her a hand to unbutton the shirt from the inside so she could get it over her head safely.

She was breathless from giggling by the time they managed to free her from the shirt's clutches, and Arthur had to kiss her again. Tentatively her hands traveled up the back of his neck and found their way to his shaggy hair. She tugged, making him rumble into her mouth. "You wanted to see me?" Irene asked shyly, and Arthur realized she was trying to display some sort of willingness.

"If it's alright, ma'am, I would." He murmured, keeping his eyes on hers. She nodded and Arthur gave her a gentle peck on the lips before drawing back, settling onto his knees so he could really take in the sight.

Outside he had done his best not to ogle. Which had been incredibly difficult. But Arthur Morgan wasn't some skin-hungry yearling, and he could usually determine when to avert his eyes.

In the twilight of the tent she was a damn vision. He reached out and cupped the back of her calf, palming the curve of the muscle that lurked beneath the skin when he moved her leg to open her up just a bit. She was strong, forged of stubborn steel. His eyes traveled up, lingering on the thatch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. Further up to her breasts, pebbled with gooseflesh and no doubt still feeling the echoes of his mouth. Her collarbone had been so delicate under his hands, like some fanciful artisan’s filigree. That throat, Lord, to tarry there and cover her skin with reminders of him would be heaven-! His eyes shifted to her freckled shoulders, the area littered with old scars. Arthur had the sneaking suspicion that her back would have borne the brunt of what she had gone through.

He wished he could stop time itself and sketch her just like this.

"You're beautiful." He mumbled, only half-aware that he was even speaking. Irene squirmed, covering her face, but Arthur gently caught one of her hands and tugged it away. "Irene, you're beautiful." He repeated, a little louder.

"You...you don't mean that, Arthur." She replied weakly.

"Oh yes I do, ma'am." He insisted, her pulse thundering against his lips when he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Can I…may I?"

Irene nodded rapidly, her head falling back when Arthur spread her legs. He abruptly felt like a starving man at a banquet table. Her cunt was flushed pink, honest, glistening with the slick of her arousal. Her thighs trembled against his forearms.

Jesus.

Arthur rubbed a palm across his face, trying to judge whether his stubble might be a bit too aggressive for the obviously sensitive area. "Hey, I…I'm gonna' try somethin', okay? You let me know if…" he trailed off when he looked up and saw her with her arm over her eyes, hiding from him again. Her cheeks were ruddy, whether from embarrassment or excitement he was uncertain. "Irene? Look at me." He implored, reaching out to tip her chin down. "You're okay, it's okay."

She hesitantly put her arm down, biting her lip. "Nervous," was all she said.

"You want me to stop?" Arthur asked, hating the way she still looked surprised. "I will stop."

"No, I just...I'm not used to it being so…" Irene paused, clearly searching for the correct word. "Gentle."

Arthur groaned, "you're killin' me woman. Tell me if you ain't likin' what I'm doin'." He sank down between her legs, urging her up a little on the bedroll so he could lay on his belly. Jesus, he was lost. She was shaking under his touch, quivering just from his kisses on her inner thighs. Arthur continued to make soft noises in his throat, trying to keep her calm as he worked his way higher.

"A-Arthur?" Her voice broke, questioning. "Arthur, that's my-"

"Sure is." Arthur replied, already drunk on the clean, delicious scent of her. "I'm gonna' just...have a little taste."

He was slow, careful, like he was out stalking prey in the grasslands. Soft kisses that made their way relentlessly inward to his prize until finally, he parted her lower lips with his thumbs and lapped at the nectar that seeped forth. Irene flinched, obviously startled by his mouth on her, and her hands flew to his hair. Arthur waited for a beat, and then cautiously continued tonguing at her. "This--this cannot be proper, Mister Mor-gan--" Irene tried to reason, her voice gone reedy. "What if-"

"You just washed yourself, ma'am." Arthur drawled from between her thighs, rubbing his stubbled cheek against the inside of her leg teasingly. "Ain't nothin' else that concerns me if you're likin' it."

"I...oh, Lord, I can't think." Was her shaky response. "Wh-What are you doing to me, Arthur?"

"Showin' you how the worst outlaw this side of Saint Denis pleases a woman." He growled, the words hanging heated and sharp as a knife in the air between them before he resumed the sweet toil of eating her out.

She whined high, her fingers kneading at his scalp making his eyes roll shut in satisfaction. "Ar-thur, I--oh, Jesus, Arthur!" Irene sobbed when he lashed her clit with his tongue, rolling over it again and again.

"That good, hmm?" Arthur asked rhetorically, smiling against her when all he got was a moan in reply. She was so damn hot on his tongue, her core soaked with desire just from his heavy petting. That she had never experienced pleasure with a man was asinine, and Arthur privately vowed to give her everything that he could. Fastening his lips down over her clit, he swept his tongue back and forth in a tick-tocking motion that made her nails dig into his scalp.

That's not just something they put in the books so women don't decide to never get bedded?

"Gotta' admit," Arthur said, pulling away for a moment. "I'm a little curious about those books you been readin' if women are gettin' bedded in 'em." He continued with a teasing grin, full-blown laughing when Irene covered her face and shook her head, groaning. "What, no recommendations for me, Miss Irene? I enjoy a good piece of literature as much as the next feller!"

"You are cruelty incarnate, Arthur Morgan." She huffed.

Arthur relented, delving back into her with his fingers and tongue as an apology. He assumed from the half-stifled whimpers of don't stop that he was forgiven his transgressions. "You taste so damn good." He muttered, rumbling in approval when her hips rocked upwards and filled his greedy mouth with her cunt. "So damn good, wanna' get every last drop of this treat."

"A-Arthur--" she panted, "I feel...oh God, I…"

Her cunt pulsed under his touch and Arthur stroked his thumb gently over her slit as she came apart for him, every contraction making her slick folds twitch. "There we go," he soothed while she bucked and trembled. "There we go. Nice and easy, Miss Irene." He felt an odd sense of triumph, like when he managed to pick a troublesome stone out of the divot of Chase's frog. Androcles didn't have quite the same ring as Arthur, however.

Irene's chest was rising and falling rapidly, the woman still gasping for air. Arthur was unprepared for when she seized the front of his shirt and pressed her mouth to his own, whimpering even as she licked at his tongue. Arthur exhaled hard, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back. Probably more roughly than he should have.

"You okay?" He panted, his nose brushing her own when he reluctantly pulled back an inch or so.

"Yes, God yes." She sighed, embracing him and giving him a dazed, oddly grateful smile. "Are you...I-I mean, would you like to…" Irene tried to ask, that sweet blush making its way down to her shoulders.

Arthur cupped her breast again, rolling over the tight little peak with his thumb. "'Would I like to'...what?" He questioned playfully. "Use those pretty words of yours, Irene."

"I'm scared." She told him honestly, her breath hitching at his touches. "I...it's unbecoming to be so wanton-"

"Honest, Irene. The word you're lookin' for is honest. Ain't nothin' wrong with knowin' what you want." Arthur hurried to interject. "The only sin is helpin' yourself to what ain't freely given."

"Arthur…" she trailed off, staring at him like she had never seen him before.

He cleared his throat after a minute. "Yeah?"

"I...thank you, Arthur. I wouldn't have--thank you for saying that." Irene laughed, "suppose now you're the one saying what I need to hear."

"I s'pose so." Arthur agreed, grimacing when a flash of lightning lit up the tent. Thunder rolled after a time, the storm still a ways away. His hands moved to the buttons on his shirt, easing them open one by one. Irene had herself propped up on her elbows again, and Arthur wouldn't say her expression didn't do wonders for his ego. "You'll catch flies if you don't close your mouth, Miss Irene."

She snapped her mouth shut, turning her head away with a nervous giggle. "Sorry! I-I apologize, I know staring is rude."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Irene." Arthur said softly, his hands falling into his lap after he shrugged free of his shirt. He saw her eyes dart over towards him, the woman clearly trying to be more surreptitious about her peeping. "Ma'am, you are buckass on my bedroll. You're more than welcome to look." He drawled, his words laced with a confidence he didn't exactly feel. He knew what he looked like.

Irene covered her eyes, and then peeked through her fingers at him. "Are...are you certain?" Instead of replying verbally, Arthur just began unbuttoning his placket. "Arthur, I...oh." She mumbled as he shoved his pants off of his hips and down his legs, freeing up his cock. "Oh, Lord." Her hand actually moved like she wanted to touch him, but she flinched back.

Arthur groaned low in his throat, pleasantly warmed by her reaction. It had been far too long since he had indulged himself, and even longer since he'd had such lovely company while doing so. "You can touch me, y'know." He offered, and her hand crept forward again.

"It...I won't hurt you?" Irene asked worriedly, her fingers hovering in midair just above his turgid cock. The damn thing was already slick with pre-spend, droplets continuing to leak forth as though his whole body was just waiting for her to be brave.

"Touch gentle-like." Arthur instructed, gritting his teeth when she circled the head of his dick with the pad of her index finger. "Jesus Mary n' Joseph-" he cursed under his breath, the sensation of her fondling him like the lightning outside had leaped into his blood. Then, "your husband didn't let you touch him?"

"I was told to be still and quiet for him." Irene replied absently, her attention blatantly elsewhere as she drew her finger up and down the side of his cock. "He didn't last long. I assume he feared if I touched him, his fuse might shorten even further."

Arthur tried to stifle his snort of laughter to no avail, waving off the inquisitive look she gave him. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just...I ain't really surprised, is all." He quipped, feeling more than a bit smug. He choked on his next breath when she wrapped her fingers around his cock, the woman seeming to gauge the weight of him in her palm.

"It's not nearly so terrifying when I can see it." Irene remarked bluntly, trailing her thumb over the sensitive head.

Arthur grunted, catching her wrist. "Easy now, Irene. I'll freely admit eatin' you out mighta' shortened my own fuse, don't take it personal." He pressed another kiss to the inside of her wrist, nipping at the tender skin there and hearing her gasp softly. "I'd like to bed you very, very much, Miss Irene." He breathed. "Show you how it ought to be."

"I…" Irene hesitated, the pattering of the rain and the encroaching thunder the only sound in the tent for a moment. "It won't hurt?"

"I hope not. But if it does, you tell me an' I'll stop." Arthur murmured, framing her face with his large hands so she couldn't hide from him. "I swear it, Irene. I ain't gonna' hurt you if I can help it." He promised fervently. "Not that kinda' man, okay?"

"I know you're not." Strong words. Brave, considering her history, her lack of knowledge about his past and her current vulnerable state. "Oh, but…" she paused, then carried on stiffly, "Arthur, if I get pregnant-"

"T-There's...ways to prevent that." He should have...it wasn't impossible to get ahold of condoms, in spite of the advertising restrictions. He felt like an idiot. "I don't have...I mean, I'll be careful." Lord, since when did he talk about this so openly? Lightning flashed like punctuation on his sentence. Irene looked pensive, her eyes wide in the dim light, but Arthur would have sworn he saw relief there.

"I know there are more ways than one. My father was a doctor," was her even reply. "Please do what you can. I'm sorry I'm not more prepared."

"Irene…" Arthur was at a loss, cradling her head to his chest. "You trust me?" He asked for the second time that day, his voice a hard rasp.

"Yes."

No hesitation. Arthur closed his eyes, warring with himself. Nothing that he knew about was foolproof. But nothing that her father could have known about was foolproof either, aside from abstaining altogether. Things could fail.

They would be careful, he assured himself. "Okay." He croaked out, trying for a smile. "Lay down with me."

Irene obliged without question, seeming a bit confused when he had her straddle his hips. Arthur pulled her to his chest for a slow, sloppy kiss, feeling his cock slide against her wet little cunt when he rolled his hips upwards. Irene gasped out his name, her hands clutching helplessly at the bedroll beneath them. "A-Arthur!"

"Yes, Irene?" The man drawled against the shell of her ear, smirking into her skin as she whined.

"Th-This is--"

"Different, I know. Maybe considered unseemly. But I want you as close as I can get you, Irene. And…" Arthur paused, burying his face in the curve of her throat. "Want you to be able to get away from me if you need to, okay?" He explained softly. "Ain't gonna' hurt my feelin's, I promise."

Her exhale was a sharp little thing, as though she had just been pricked by a thorn. "You won't make me stay?"

"Not if you don't want to, no." Arthur answered firmly, taking no offense to her query. "You say stop, I stop." As much as he hated to admit it, this wasn't exactly his first rodeo with someone like Irene. People like him tended to be...heavy-handed, so a little caution and consideration went miles.

She kissed him hard then, making Arthur groan into her mouth when she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him between their bodies. He knew he must have throbbed in her grip, because she tightened her hold momentarily in response. "I'm...going to put this inside me now." Irene announced, a little awkwardly.

Arthur chuckled, the noise quickly dissolving into a gasp as she shifted her weight and the head of his cock pushed past her slick folds, Christ she was hot-

The man tangled his fists into the bedroll so he didn't grab onto her and rut upwards like he instinctively wanted to do, his breath coming in harsh, raspy pants as she slowly worked herself down on his cock. "Mary mother of-" Her little sighs and moans had Arthur gritting his teeth to the point that his jaw ached. "You alright?" He managed to ask, daring to raise his hands to rest on her thighs.

"Yes." Irene breathed, the smile on her face a moment later looking like sheer bliss. Arthur was a goner.

"You sure?" He had to verify, his hands traveling upwards to cup her face. "Feels good for me no matter what, you know that. Need it to be good for you, too."

Her eyes opened and she looked down at him, stealing the breath out of his chest as she threaded her fingers into his hair. "It's already good. Now make it better."

…

"So what will you do now?" Arthur asked sleepily, nuzzling his nose into her tousled curls. The rain pattering on the canvas of the tent was lulling him into a doze. The air had cooled considerably in the wake of the storm. thank the Lord for small favors.

Irene's sigh gusted across his collarbone. "Not certain. I never dreamed to think about what would happen if I was truly free. Ever since I found out about him being dead, I've...I'm not sure how to explain it. There is relief, of course, but also a type of dread. I have grown used to this nomadic lifestyle. I have grown used to not being tied down by civilization."

"You sure 'bout that?" Arthur chuckled, "you still talk like you're sittin' in a parlor enjoyin' tea with the high society."

"Oh, you and I both know that you catch more flies with honey, Mister Arthur." He felt her smile against his chest, "I...there was a sort of interlude to this life that I found enjoyable when I believed I was still hiding. A simplicity. I knew I could not settle anywhere with other folk, not for very long anyway, as it would make it more and more difficult to hide who I was. So I did not want to settle anywhere." She hummed, stretching languidly against his side.

Arthur rumbled, his hands wandering over her deliciously-naked body. "You still feel that way, Irene?"

"I don't want to go back." She murmured. "There's nothing there for me anymore. Yet I don't think I truly belong anywhere just yet."

"How about with me?" Arthur offered quietly, tilting her chin up so he could cover her throat with kisses. He rolled onto his side and pulled her back to his chest, continuing to nudge his nose against the side of her jaw until she giggled that he was tickling her. "You could come join the gang." Bold words, he realized a little too late. "I'm sure the other gals would love you, and Dutch-"

Irene shook her head and Arthur fell silent, burying his face in her curls to inhale her scent with a sort of forlorn resignation. "It's very kind of you to offer, Mister Arthur, but I'm afraid foisting myself upon an already established group would be a recipe for disaster. In a way, I am still uncertain of my identity. Despite my age, I have never really...been myself. I have always been something else, had some role strapped to my back. Now that I've truly shed it, I'll need time to settle into being who I ought to be." She threw him a smile over her shoulder. "Whether Frank, Irene, or some amalgamation of the two, I am uncertain. But I do know this: I am glad to have met you, Arthur Morgan. For you helped me banish the burden of fear that bowed my shoulders so readily. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

Arthur was silent for a time, mulling everything over. "Suppose I'd better make the most of this then, huh?" He asked finally, gesturing upwards at the roof of the tent. "Don't sound like that rain is plannin' on stoppin' anytime soon." His cock twitched against her rear, and he grunted when she shifted her weight.

"Like this?" Irene asked curiously, raising her leg and hooking it over the back of his thigh so his freshly-awakened cock could rub across her folds.

Arthur huffed out a breath, seizing her hip with one hand to keep her still. "You're playin' a dangerous game, woman." His voice grated a bit.

"You don't scare me, Arthur Morgan." She replied playfully.

Because you don't know who I am. If you did...maybe I would.

Arthur closed his eyes to ward off that dark thought, and in his moment of distraction her hand wrapped around his cock and she canted her hips back, guiding him inside her once again.

It was like finally coming home, a soothing balm for the spirit that had been forced to wander for so long. Arthur sheathed himself as deep as he dared, her breathy cries of his name more than enough praise to keep him warm in the no-doubt solitary months to come.

"Irene, Irene, you're beautiful." He clumsily complimented her, his lips pressed to her ear so she could hear whatever fool thing came out of his mouth. "God dammit, you are so beautiful. Perfect." His hands found her breasts, cupping and caressing them until she was writhing, bucking back against him in a manner that was downright wanton.

He loved it. The feeling of her around him, beside him, underneath his hands…

Arthur Morgan did not consider himself a good man. He did not consider himself a particularly smart man either. But right now, right now, he considered himself to be a remarkably lucky man.

"I'm close-" he choked, growling when Irene clenched down on him and keened to announce her own climax. Arthur nearly spent himself inside her, only just managing to pull out and spill his seed on her thigh instead. He snarled as he came, the sensation of his hand downright disappointing after being so deep in her. "Christ alive, Irene." He panted startled when she gently palmed his still hard cock and carefully urged it back inside her. "Easy, woman--"

"I just like the feeling, that's all." Irene assured him, shivering and arching her back against his chest as she moved into a downright luxurious stretch.

Arthur groaned, wrapping his arms around her to keep them pressed together. His hands rested at the apex of her thighs, and he stroked absently over the skin he found there. "I'd love to have stayed inside you, but I know neither of us are keen on bringin' a new young'un into the world." He tried to smile, tried to make it a joke.

"Maybe someday."

Irene's nonchalant, sleepy words hit Arthur like a punch to the gut. What was this woman doing to him? Arthur loathed himself for the way his heart hitched, ached at the idea of having a child. For the longest time in his younger years he had deluded himself into thinking that he might have something like that with Mary, dreaming about domesticity of all things. Going out and teaching little Jack how to fish had been torture, because all he could think about was John leaving the boy behind and Jesus Christ, how could a person ever do something like that?

"I think I'm gettin' a little too old." He admitted quietly. "Think the ship's sailed on that one. Plus, I mean, with the stuff I'm involved in…" he trailed off, tightening his hold ever so slightly. Irene yawned, snuggling down into his arms. He kissed her cheek. "Ah, don't mind me, Irene. I'll wake you up if anythin' happens."

She drifted off so quickly, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts. He eventually pulled away from her, a hand on her back to keep her still, and he felt a ridge beneath his fingertips. Squinting in the dim light of the tent, he realized it was a scar. And it wasn't alone, her back was fairly riddled with them.

His stomach dropped in dismay. Arthur was not free of his own scars, of course. The ones on his chin were freely visible, and the rest of his body bore a fair amount of mileage to that end. He hadn't had an easy time of it. No one in the Van Der Linde gang had.

He untied the tent flap and propped it open after shuffling back into his pants, lighting the remains of his cigarette. The older man stared out at the rain for a good long while, his mind thousands of miles away as the cigarette slowly burned to ash between his lips. Tomorrow morning, perhaps the morning after that if he was fortunate enough to steal a bit more time, they would part ways once more, cast themselves adrift to the tides of fate.

He might never see her again.

After the weeks he had spent, wondering whether the phantom woman in the Valentine hotel had been nothing but a figment of his imagination...and now, knowing that she was real, flesh and blood...

Arthur lit another cigarette and reached for his satchel, tugging free his journal and then settling in to sketch her sleeping form. Here and now, in this secret clearing, he would eke out some semblance of peace. The graphite stub swept across the page, capturing forever the curve of her cheek, the glorious mess of that chestnut-brown hair, the wrinkles of the blanket that he had draped over her in case the breeze grew too ambitious.

Turns out the man I THOUGHT was Frank was actually -IRENE-. The world does so love to afflict me with its twists and turns...

Bonus: A Brief Diversion

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x original female character #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 spoilers #rdr2 community #hurt/comfort #and now the good stuff #welcome to my indulgence #I am a simple man #high honor arthur

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imperialstark · 3 years

Text

choke on me—chapter four

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter three

chapter five

a/n: this is a pretty chill chapter, and chapter five is going to be the exact opposite so have fun with this one while you can ;) also for my bilingual readers, if i have any, please excuse my shitty Italian in this chapter, i'm literally just working off of google translate

rating: pretty gen...this time

warning(s): n/a

—————

Carmen couldn't have picked a better day for a carnival; It's not too hot out for it to be August nonetheless. A slight breeze ruffles Tony's ungelled hair, sending his bangs into his eyes. He smooths the hair back with a huff. So much for keeping it casual today. His brief irritation dissipates when he looks, truly looks, at his surroundings.

The scent of cotton candy and funnel cake and something smoky, no doubt barbecue, carries on the wind. There are two long lines of booths, rides, and rest places alike stretching for a good yard. The other volunteers are zooming about, dressed in bright red tees like the Avengers, finishing up last-minute preparations.

"She doesn't half-ass anything, huh?" Clint says. He sounds impressed and…a little excited. Tony can't lie...he's excited too.

"I'll say," Steve says, and there's no hiding the awe in his voice. "I can't believe some of these rides even exist."

Out the corner of his eye, Tony sees Thor lean down to whisper something in Bruce's ear, blue eyes dancing. Whatever he said makes Bruce laugh, a real one, not the sharp little chuckle that's usually full of self-loathing or sarcasm or both.

They're off to a good start. Even Natasha looks pleased, or as pleased as she can be, with her arms crossed in front of her. She's taking in their surroundings too, but Tony knows that a part of her isn't doing it for fun. She's looking for enemies, escape routes, any possible threats to her and the others.

"You can take an agent out of the field," he thinks. He hopes that maybe she'll loosen up by the end of the day, preferably without anyone getting hurt.

"Where's Solomita?" she asks. "I want to know what we’re doing.”

"I know where she is," Tony says and leads the way, picking out Carmen's chirpy voice, throwing out orders and praise with a megaphone, Jesus Christ.

"Make sure you're at your booths in ten minutes! The kids are going to be arriving soon!"

She's crossing things off on her clipboard when Tony and the Avengers following behind him pull up in front of her.

She hasn't changed a bit since Tony's last seen her. She's still tan, still short, shorter than Tony. Her dark wavy hair is pulled back into what she used to call her "business braid" for when she had "shit that needs to be done."

Tony clears his throat, and Carmen looks up, her big brown eyes going wide before a grin breaks across her face and—

Carmen pounces on him, full-on throwing her arms around Tony's neck. Tony catches her no problem and—Carmen's mood is so infectious—gives her a little twirl before setting her down.

"Jesus Christ," Clint says under his breath. "She almost took him out."

"Did not," Carmen says, and Clint has the good sense to look bashful. "This is normal for us. Especially when someone hasn't reached out in two. Years," she says, slapping Tony on the arm twice for emphasis.

"Ouch," he says, rubbing his arm. "I've been busy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save the world a few times, and suddenly you have no time for your friends," she says, grinning, so Tony knows she's joking. She turns to the Avengers, who've all been standing there awkwardly like they're the new kids in school.

"All jokes aside, I'm thankful for you guys, all of you," she says. "Who knows where we'd be without the Avengers." She sticks out her hand for them to shake and for a split second, nobody moves. Maybe it was the genuine gratitude in Carmen's voice, or the others were still trying to process Carmen's everything, but the smile on her face starts to waver at their hesitation.

Steve is the first to act, taking Carmen's hand in his own. "Thank you, ma'am," he says. "I know I speak for everyone when I say that we're glad the team exists, and we'll help out any way we can."

"Thank you," Tony mouths to him, and Steve gives him a slight nod, letting go of Carmen's hand.

Thor steps up next and, in true princely fashion, bows, bringing Carmen's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. "A pleasure to be here, my lady," Thor says.

Carmen's face is red when Thor straightens back up, releasing her hand. After that, it's like the others shift into gear. Clint apologizes for his comment. Bruce offers her a kind hello until it's just Natasha who steps up until she's right in front of Carmen. Even though they're the same height, Carmen stiffens up, looking at Natasha like she's about to get chastised.

Natasha simply...sticks out her hand. "It’s nice to meet you,” she begins.

Carmen takes Natasha’s hand slowly like she’s expecting some trick.

“I’m actually a fan,” Natasha says. “I saw your work this February while undercover. Very nice.”

"Thank you," Carmen says. If she blushes anymore, Tony’s going to start worrying about her health. "I was actually inspired by your suit. The leather and the bodycon silhouette paired well with Fall and Winter."

"Oh, really?" Natasha says, raising her brows. Natasha looks her up and down, and Carmen, much to her credit, holds her gaze. "I have ideas for your spring collection if you'd like to hear them."

And just like that, the Avengers have won Carmen over forever. And Tony didn't even have to make any threats. Maybe today won't be a disaster after all.

"Yes, please," Carmen says, her voice coming out high and reedy. "I mean since you're offering—"

“Carmen,” Tony interrupts before she starts melting under the full force of Natasha’s undivided attention, “what’s the game plan for today?”

"Game plan. Right. We're here to work." Carmen clears her throat, a flush still staining her cheeks, and flips through some of the pages on her clipboard. "Okay, Tony, you're easy. You're running the basketball booth."

Basketball. He can do basketball.

"Mr. Rogers," Carmen says. Natasha starts humming "Won't You Be My Neighbor" until Steve shoots her an exasperated look.

"Sorry," Natasha says, not sounding sorry at all.

"Please, call me Steve," Steve says. "She already has that song set as my ringtone."

"Steve," Carmen says. "I know you're an artist. Think you could do caricatures slash portraits?"

Steve nods. "Easy enough."

The rest of the assignments go quickly. Natasha gets the sharpshooting booth, Clint's over Ring Toss, and Thor and Bruce will oversee the sack race. Now that introductions and assignments are over, there's a thrum of excitement to the air. Or anxiety. Tony's not sure yet.

"Nervous?" Carmen says to him. She's tucked her pen behind her ear.

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not. It could just be indigestion."

"Gross," she laughs, wrinkling her nose. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I meant what I said, you know. I'm glad you guys showed up. You know how much A Helping Hand means to me."

Of course, he does. Carmen's like him...in more ways than one. She had been orphaned at nineteen when her parents' plane had gone down over the Atlantic.

And at twenty-one, she had also found herself the sole heir to a family fortune and no family to share it with. She got the idea for A Helping Hand after Tony's own parents had died.

Tony repeats what she had told him all those years ago. "Us orphans gotta stick together."

"Damn right," she says. "Siamo famiglia."

"Siamo famiglia," Tony echoes.

"Congrats on your new additions, by the way," Carmen says.

Tony's brows furrow. "What new additions?" he asks.

Carmen tilts her head at him like she used to whenever she thought he had said something stupid. "You're telling me that those five supermodels you call teammates just came here for shits and giggles?"

"They needed a day off," Tony explains. "I offered. Nothing else to it."

"They came because you asked them, dumbass. They're your friends."

Tony's not going to argue with her, mostly since the others have stopped talking amongst themselves and are looking right at them.

"Anyway," he says pointedly, "can you point me in the direction of my booth?"

*********

For the next three hours, Tony shoves Carmen's words from his mind and throws himself into teaching anyone who steps up to the basketball booth about physics. It wasn't cheating per se; Tony simply calculated the angle the kids would have to throw the ball along with the perfect amount of force. The looks of shock followed by unabashed glee after they made a basket more than made up for any guilt he was feeling.

His break comes faster than he wants it to, but he has to take one eventually and decides the best way to do that is to take a walk. His fellow volunteer, a young man named Jake, says he'll be able to hold down the fort while Tony's gone. Maybe Tony will check on the others, see how they're faring.

“It’s a great day to fly,” he thinks. The sky is a soft pale blue that soothes his heart. Cirrus clouds, like pulled apart cotton candy, lazily make their way across the horizon. Maybe after the carnival is over, he’ll take the suit out for a ride and cruise through the skies.

He wanders without direction, letting his feet carry him wherever they fancy. Seldom does Tony get quiet moments to himself like this. There was always a fire to put out, a project to work on, kittens to rescue from trees, that sort of thing. Not that he ever doubted her, but maybe Pepper was right. Maybe he did work too hard.

The sound of children squealing pulls him from his thoughts and brings a smile to his face. Carmen had spared no expense, not that he expected any less, as he takes in the Tilt-a-Whirl lifting its arms higher and higher. The riders throw their arms up in the air, their laughter carrying on the wind. For today, they would get to fly too.

Tony continues on, the shouts and whoops and laughs fading into the background; he's made it to a quieter part of the carnival where they tucked off all of the arts and crafts booths.

There's the finger painting table where plenty of toddlers and adults alike are flinging paint onto sheets of canvas. One kid rises from the face painting table with Cap's shield emblazoned upon his cheek and a booth over...there's Steve, drawing caricatures for the kids. There's a curve to his lips. Steve's biting back a smile at the little boy trying (and failing) to sit still in his chair as he draws him. Tony's heart jumps at the sight. He's tempted to slide into the line for Steve's booth himself, but something holds him back. It could be the look of contentment on Steve's face or the kid's near infectious excitement—Tony feels like he's intruding on something private. Someone else's life. Someone else's dream.

His heart pangs in his chest as the little boy jumps as soon as his drawing is finished and throws himself into Steve's arms. Steve startles but recovers quickly, giving the kid a polite hug back.

For some reason, Tony thinks of the kid he met not even a year ago when everyone thought he was dead: Harley. Tony didn't hug Harley. He didn't have it in him to hug Harley. The kid deserved it, though, for dealing with Tony's shit. Tony liked kids well enough, but having one of his own? He would never admit it out loud, but it scared him. And Steve...Steve deserved more than a coward.

There's less energy in his steps as he turns around and walks right back to the basketball booth.

He knows he still has time left on his break, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to care.

He finishes his shift with little fanfare, the carnival-goers opting for the rides and fair food after loading up on prizes for the day.

His head's all foggy like he just got up from a nap. He's so out of it, he doesn't even realize that the others are walking up to his booth. Tony blinks slowly, trying to ignore the pressure building in his forehead, a sure sign of a headache.

"Hey," Steve says when they make it to his booth. "You about ready?"

Tony winces, prompting the others to look him up and down.

"You okay? What's bothering you?" Clint asks.

"Just got a headache," Tony says, stepping out from his booth, giving Jake a wave. Jake waves back, trying his best not to look starstruck at the sight of the other Avengers.

"Did you eat at all?" Natasha asks, and as soon as she says something, his stomach growls.

"Guess not," Bruce says.

"You must eat," Thor says gently. "A warrior such as yourself must maintain your strength."

He knows they're right, but being confronted by all of them at once has his hackles rising. Carmen's words are getting all tangled up with Pepper's, and he can't. Stop. Thinking.

"I will," he says, aware that they're watching him more closely now. He hopes that he doesn't look as unsound as he feels. "But why leave just yet? Don't you guys want to check out some of the booths or rides before we leave?"

Steve starts to object, but Natasha is one second faster. "I did want to beat Clint at Shoot 'em Up," she says with a smirk.

Steve looks ready to protest, but Clint cuts him off. "Oh, you're on," he says. "Loser has to do the other's paperwork for two weeks."

"Prepare to drown in files, Barton," Natasha says, catching Tony's eye.

Tony nods at her. A Thank you.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. You're welcome. He doesn't know when they learned to read each other so well.

Clint and Natasha make their way to the sharpshooting booth, Thor and Bruce walking along behind them.

"You sure you're okay?" Steve asks, scanning Tony from head to toe. Steve can see through him so easily, his skin might as well be made of glass.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tony says. "Come on. Let's catch up before they kill each other."

*********

Natasha and Clint tie in Shoot 'em Up. Since Tony is on a team that consists entirely of children, they extend their competition to every booth in the carnival. Steve warms up as the day goes on, even joining in on their little competition along with Thor. Tony and Bruce are just content to watch.

Thor ropes Steve into the strongman game, which attracts a crowd, but who would turn down the sight of two handsome, well-built men lifting heavy things and showing off their muscles? Tony certainly couldn't, and given the way Bruce eyes the bulge of Thor's biceps, neither could he.

Steve rings the bell easily and wins, of all things, a Captain Ameribear for his trouble.

"Aw," Tony says. "It has wings on its helmet too."

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that it came with a shield pillow?" Clint asks.

Steve blushes, but it's all in good fun. Thor, of course, breaks the game, the bell flying clean off the top of the tower. The game runner in awe (and a little bit of fear) gives Thor a prize regardless. Tony promises to compensate the man as soon as possible. Despite all of that, his headache has receded slightly. He needs to eat now, and that barbecue is starting to smell better and better.

Tony's so caught up in drooling over a rack of ribs or some trashed wings he barely notices the others walking off to the next booth, Steve lingering behind to wait on him.

"Sorry," Tony says. "Guess I'm out of it. You...you don't have to wait on me, you know."

Steve shrugs. "No one's forcing me. Spending time with you isn't a chore. This actually works out."

Tony smiles despite himself. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Steve says. "I just wanted you to have this." Steve hands the bear over to Tony, and Tony...Tony melts because Steve is so fucking cute and sweet, and how did the hell did he end up in Tony's life?

Tony takes the bear, and maybe it's the lack of food in his system, but the urge to cry at Steve's kindness strikes him. The bear is cute with Steve's signature red, white, and blue suit and the shield to go along with it. "Thank you," Tony says. "You sure you want me to hold onto this?"

Steve looks at him from underneath his lashes. "Tony," he begins, "it's a gift. I want you to have it."

"Okay," Tony whispers, feeling like the air is closing in on him. It's hard to breathe when Steve looks at him like that, like Tony means something to him.

"Besides," Steve says, leaning in close to him. "I'm gonna clean the booths out. I'm trying to beat the super spies. Can you keep him safe for me?"

Steve's breath, cool and minty, washes over his face. Tony has to blink a few times, processing what just happened before he can even think about speaking.

"Are you guys coming, or are you just going to gaze into each other's eyes?" Clint shouts from the next booth over.

Tony jumps and hurries to rejoin the others, Steve right behind him, staring into his back.

True to his word, Steve cleans out every booth they touch, until he's practically drowning in stuffed animals. They attract a crowd as they make their way to the food court. Tony's feet are aching, and his stomach is outright roaring for sustenance. He and Thor get the biggest plate of ribs they've got to offer. The meat's so tender it's falling off the bone and smoked to perfection. The sauce they used is homemade, all tang and smoky sweetness. He eats until his stomach is about ready to burst.

Thor's singing the cooks' praises and their delicious Midgardian cuisine and rises to go get seconds, Bruce trailing after him.

Clint runs off to the bathroom, and something catches Steve's eye. Tony follows his gaze to the herd of children trying (and failing) to watch them eat without freaking out. Steve rises from the table, taking his prizes with him, leaving just Tony and Natasha behind.

"Sometimes, I can't believe he's real," Natasha says, breaking the silence. There's no need to wonder who's the "he" she's talking about. Tony thinks it himself sometimes.

It's hard not to when kids start lining up single file for their turn to receive a stuffed animal from Steve.

"Me neither," Tony says. "Howard...he'd tell me all these stories of Steve and the 'good old days'...Steve single-handedly storming a HYDRA facility. Throwing himself on a grenade to give others the chance to live. I always thought he was embellishing a little. Making war stories more digestible for a kid, you know? But seeing him, knowing him? You can't help but wonder how someone can be so good."

"He's not like you," Natasha says. He doesn't even have it in himself to be offended. She's right. Steve isn't like Tony and will never be like Tony. A little rough around the edges. "He's not like me, either," she admits, catching Tony by surprise.

"He's the best of us," Tony says. He glances at her. Natasha sits forward, resting her head upon her palm. Her face is smooth, her cheeks still tinged pink from their rowdy tramping through the fairgrounds. She looks...raw. That's the only word to describe her. Raw and real and human. Not the robot switching personalities and names and appearances like most people change clothes.

"You make him that way," she says, shocking him again. His stomach drops, and whatever peace between them quickly disintegrates. What does she mean by that? What could she possibly know about him and Steve and all the complexities of their relationship?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tony says, his voice coming out thin.

Something in Natasha’s face softens, and she tilts her head at Tony. “I’m not going to pretend I know all of the details, but…you’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you. You’re both...softer. You look happy.”

It’s like someone’s dumped cold water down Tony’s back; he’s so in shock he can barely register what Natasha is saying. He swallows. Natasha knows. Of course, she knows, and if it weren’t her job to gather intel and pick up on context clues, he’d be a lot more worried that the others knew. But she wasn’t blackmailing him or threatening him to stay away from Steve? She...approved of them? He remembers that debriefing after they had defeated Loki, what felt like a lifetime ago, and her casual dismissal of Tony and his relationship with Steve. He wants to bring it up, to confront her, but what’s there to confront?

He brings it up anyway. “Still think he wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole?”

Natasha tilts her head at him again, and he hates how sweaty his palms have gotten, and the hummingbird beating of his heart, like his relationship with Steve hinges on her opinion.

“No,” she says slowly as if to weigh her words. “He wants you too much. I don’t think he could give you up even if he wanted to.”

As if summoned, Steve comes bounding back to their table looking boyish and vibrant in the evening sun before Tony can process her words.

"What I miss?" he says with a breathless grin, holding onto one last stuffed animal.

"Nothing much," Tony says before Natasha can say anything incriminating. His eyes dart down to the last stuffed animal in Steve's arms. It's an Iron Man bear, of course, all done up in the telltale red and gold of Tony's suit. "What's the deal, no one wanted him?" he says, nodding to the bear.

Steve looks down at the Iron Bear, and what he says next might actually make Tony melt into a puddle. "Nah. Couldn't bear to give him up."

Tony ignores Natasha's pointed look and hopes that his face isn't as red as he thinks it is.

“Clint, you’re riding with me on the Ferris wheel,” Natasha declares when everyone makes it back to their table, and Steve has successfully made Tony as red as his suit.

“A Ferris wheel?” Thor asks, arching his brow.

“It’s a carnival classic,” Clint says. “It’s a giant wheel that lifts you into the air. Perfect way to end the day.”

“It’s older than Cap,” Natasha throws in helpfully, smirking at Steve when he shoots her an exasperated look.

“Your Midgardian traditions are so strange,” Thor says. “Interesting, but strange.”

“I’m not hearing a no,” Clint says.

“Hm.” Thor turns to look at Bruce, who looked surprisingly (and thankfully) content with himself. “Would you like to ride with me, Doctor Banner?”

Bruce reddens, and Tony doesn't feel so alone because it looks like Bruce has his own beefy blond problem he needs to deal with. "Sure, since you asked," Bruce responds, leaving just...Steve.

Steve shares a look with Natasha, and Tony gets the sneaking suspicion that they planned this. Who knew that the fall of SHIELD would lead to one of the most dangerous alliances Tony had ever seen?

"Tony," Steve begins, sounding like he's about to propose, he's so serious. "Want to ride with me?"

His heartbeat quickens, and he's not sure why. It's not like it's a public declaration of love to ride with someone on a Ferris wheel.

It'd look weird if he takes too long to answer, so Tony says, "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

They toss their trash and pick up their respective prizes they won throughout the day, Natasha with her light-up sword, Clint with his stuffed dog. Thor's lion hat from the strongman game sits proudly atop his head. Tony wants to make a joke about Hercules, but he also doesn't want to deal with the guaranteed headache he'll get when Thor replies with some mind-bending statement like he and Hercules are gym bros or other. Tony and Steve walk side by side, far behind the rest of their little group, bears in one hand, their free hands brushing with each step.

Part of him knows that if he just reached over...if he took that extra step for Steve's hand...Steve would let him. It'd be so easy…

The line to the Ferris wheel isn't too long, and by the time Tony works up the courage to take Steve's hand, the volunteers are strapping them in.

One of the volunteers lowers the bar over their heads, making sure that they're secure, and that's it. Tony's trapped. He's stuck on this Ferris wheel for the next ten minutes, and Steve is so goddamn close he can feel how hot his skin is from being out in the sun and—

"I'm not gonna bite, you know," Steve mutters when they start to ascend. He won't meet Tony's eyes. "I...I know you're afraid of me."

Tony swallows, his stomach twisting into knots at the thought of Steve thinking he feared him.

"I'm not...Steve, I'm not afraid of you," Tony says. Steve's still looking down. He doesn't know where he gets the courage, but he cups Steve's face and makes him look at him. "You hear me? I'm not afraid of you."

Steve's eyes have always been a weakness of Tony's, and right now, when they're so big and blue and so fucking sad, it doesn't do him any favors. They're almost at the top of the wheel. A stray breeze rustles a lock of Steve's hair, and Tony feels like he's on a cliff's edge.

"Then why—" Steve begins, only to be cut off by Tony's lips. Tony closes his eyes and answers Steve the only way he knows how.

It's cliche, but Tony swears he can see fireworks going off behind his eyelids. Steve's lips are warm and soft and pliant against his. Tony deepens the kiss and slides one of his hands into Steve's hair, the other remaining on his face. He can taste the remnants of cotton candy on Steve's mouth.

They break apart because, unfortunately, air is necessary to live. Tony has half a mind to invent a way for humans to survive without air if it meant he could spend the rest of his life kissing Steve.

This high up, with the sun setting behind them, Tony wishes he had at least brought a jacket.

Steve lifts his arm, "Here," he says. "Lean into me." Tony does just that and tucks his body into Steve's side, his arm is a reassuring weight around him.

The others are too far back to see Tony and Steve. It's easy up here, easy to forget that Steve's Captain America and Tony's a barely functioning former alcoholic with a slew of mental issues.

He looks at Steve out the corner of his eye, takes in his features shamelessly and selfishly, the allure of being above everyone reeling him in. He loves Steve's face, the cut of his jaw, and his long, pretty lashes and those eyes. It's painful looking at him. Sometimes it feels like his heart's gonna swell up and pop right out of his chest when he looks at Steve.

In that moment, he's glad they went to the carnival if only to forget the world for a little while.

#stony #stevetony #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #mcu #stony fanfic #stony fic #stony fanfiction #superhusbands #my fic #my writing #imperialstark fic #choke on me

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