#and avoids direct sunlight because he burns easily

[esterigermaine]

We know the concept of albinism exists for at least Drow, but I wonder if it exists for other DnD races as well.

What I am trying to say is do you think Astarion has ever (or would be willing to) tried to pass himself off as an Elf with albinism?

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 10

[chap nine] | [all chapters here] | [chap eleven]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I can't believe this fic is already at 10 chapters! I know these two idiots are taking their time to get together, but trust that things are getting more and more interesting! I hope everyone enjoys reading this just as much as I love writing it, and as always, the tag list is still open for new readers!

wc: 6.7k

Chapter Ten

As the fog of sleep began to lift from your head, you couldn’t help but moan smally,  rolling over and trying to resist consciousness. You realized you were beginning to feel particularly warm, which is most likely what prompted your body to awake so easily - you could sleep like a damn log, yet once you got hot enough, it was practically impossible to stay asleep. So, you tried to shove your blankets aside, kicking them away from your legs to avoid breaking out into a sweat. As you did so, you made contact with something solid, hearing a tired grunt just a split second later that caused you to pull a sleepy face of confusion.

That’s when you remembered that this bed didn’t feel like yours, that these pillows didn’t smell like yours, and the night before came back to you.

You were at Eddie’s. You opened your heavy eyes, realizing immediately that you were practically curled into Eddie’s back, which would explain why you felt so hot just a minute ago - evidently, you both ran a little hot in your sleep. With this small distance, you could feel his body heat radiating towards you, feel the tickle of his curls against your forehead, you could see his torso rise and fall with shallow breath. Sleepily, you shuffled away, yawning as you began to slowly look around his room, squinting at the bits of sunlight peeking through the sheets hanging over the windows.

Now that it was light out, this was exactly the kind of room you’d expect a teenage boy to have - the floor was littered with clothes and junk, the walls were covered with posters, and music equipment was in every direction you looked. You tiredly blinked your eyes a few times, attempting to find a clock as a yawn dared to escape your mouth; you finally spotted one after propping yourself up and looking over Eddie’s shoulder at the bedside table.

The two of you had been sleeping through first period; despite all your efforts to not care about shit like that anymore, you nonetheless felt a little jolt of panic because you were missing school again. Force of habit, you figured.

As you rubbed sleep from your eyes, you glanced down at Eddie, whose face was nearly obscured by his messy mane of hair - you found yourself briefly thinking that he’d probably benefit from pulling it back while he sleeps. Not that you were concerned with the cleanliness of his hair and skin - no, you just knew from experience that it would probably be helpful for him to keep hair off his face at night.

You slumped back against the pillow, closing your eyes as you debated whether or not you wanted to wake up or try falling asleep again. You already knew you’d be in deep shit with your parents, considering that you ran off last night without telling anyone where you were going, so what was the harm in resting a while longer? There couldn’t be anything wrong with missing second period, too, right?

Beside you, Eddie stirred a little, causing you to peek at him through your lashes. He settled back in easily enough, but that’s when you finally realized just how odd this whole situation was, how sharing a bed with him felt very nearly inappropriate. Evidently, you had no qualms with it last night, accepting his invitation with absolutely no debate, but it felt different now that you were waking up to a new day. Ideas one had in the late evening never seemed ridiculous or ill-advised until confronting them the following day. Despite yourself, you could feel your neck growing hot, and you rolled onto your side to face away from Eddie as if that would correct the situation. At the very least, it would help you think if you stopped watching him sleep.

Should you leave now that you’re awake? Or should you pretend to be asleep until Eddie also woke up? You couldn’t just linger around impatiently waiting for him, that would look ridiculous.

These are things you didn’t have to worry about before - sleepovers with girls were different, especially when you’d known those girls since you were five years old. And staying the night with Duncan or any other ex-boyfriend had little to no rules. But this? A sleepover with your fake boyfriend who you may or may not be friends with? This sort of thing didn’t have a rulebook for you to follow, so any option may well be the wrong one.

Deciding that you shouldn’t linger around as if you were some needy one night stand, you climbed out of the bed as carefully as possible, unsure just how light a sleeper Eddie was. The floor creaked under your feet despite your light steps, causing you to flinch and shoot a glance at Eddie; but he seemed undisturbed by it.

You stole a glance down at the t-shirt you’d borrowed from Eddie, tugging at the hem as if suddenly you were self-conscious - considering that you had no qualms with showing Eddie skin the night before, it felt nearly ridiculous to start worrying about it now. You rolled your eyes at how stupid you were being as you began to search for your discarded clothes amidst the piles of Eddie’s belongings.

Once you had your clothes in hand, you looked between Eddie and the bedroom door - you realized that his uncle had to still be sleeping, too, which caused you to nearly hiss at your luck. Now you had two people to worry about waking if you weren’t careful. You could sneak your way into the bathroom without waking them, but what if you stepped out of the bedroom and Eddie’s uncle happened to be awake? You didn’t need to be flashing skin to both Munsons.

So, sighing through your nose, you dropped your clothes atop Eddie’s cluttered desk and shook off your concerns - he probably wasn’t going to see anything, and if he did, who cared? You clearly didn’t last night.

Once you’d pulled off Eddie’s t-shirt, you paused as if intending to fold it, but laughed at yourself a second later - if his messy room was any evidence, he wasn’t all that concerned about the state of his clothes. You quickly started to pull your own clothes back on, briefly wishing you’d brought your gym bag inside since your outfit from yesterday was there. That was obviously more attractive than sweaty workout clothes, so you’d have to change into them later, once you were out of here.

As you tugged your shorts over the curve of your ass, you heard Eddie hiss out a small, surprised “shit,” causing you to startle and spin around to face him. Your skin felt hot as you met his tired expression with a surprised look of your own, realizing too late that you had yet to put your shirt on, although he didn’t appear to care or even notice given how heavy his eyes were. Despite suddenly feeling self-conscious, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, spinning back around to quickly grab your shirt; your skin still felt hot and your heart a little fast, but laughing made the awkward situation a little easier to bear.

“Fuck, you scared me.” Eddie grumbled in a gravelly voice as you quickly pulled your shirt over your head, turning to face him again. He lied back with his eyes closed, throwing an arm across his forehead as if he needed to compose himself - was his heart drumming as fast as yours? And was it because you actually startled him, or was it because he saw more than he needed to?

You took a deep breath to collect yourself, eyes darting across Eddie’s face and arms while you pushed your embarrassment down. God, you felt stupid being this nervous. So, you coolly rolled back your shoulders and straightened up, knowing that by faking confidence you’d inevitably feel confident in the next couple minutes.

“You tell every girl you sleep with that she scares you?” You teased foolishly, feeling your own nerves spike for a split second. Eddie’s mouth twisted in embarrassment, his cheeks growing red and a flustered sound leaving his lips as he removed his arm from over his eyes.

Now that your heart was slowing back to a reasonable pace, you realized that you must look gross right now - your hair had to be dirty, you could practically taste your morning breath, and you were certain your skin was shiny with oil. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened in momentary panic, whipping around to face yourself in the mirror above the desk, thankful for the closed curtains in the room, as the darkness surely hid the worst of it. You leaned in close to your reflection, fussing with your hair so it didn’t look quite so awful, baring your teeth to see just how gross they probably were, rubbing your fingers across the bridge of your oily nose. God, being a teenager sucked sometimes.

In the reflection of the mirror, you paused your self assessment and flicked your gaze to watch Eddie for a few moments. He tiredly dragged his hands down his face then through his tangled hair, staring up at the ceiling with heavy eyes, as if he wasn’t fully awake yet. His cheeks were still pink from your little joke, although a very slight grin tugged at his lips, so perhaps he was coming around to it. You realized his chest was bare, although you couldn’t see anything below the neck thanks to the bedsheets; nonetheless, your eyes thoughtlessly trailed from his face to his collarbone to the rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket.

When Eddie turned to look at you again, you quickly diverted your attention, hoping he didn’t realize you’d been studying him. It’s not as if you were doing anything wrong, but somehow it nonetheless felt like you shouldn’t have been watching him quite so closely, as if you were nearly caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“What, worried what I’ll think of your bed head?” Eddie’s tone was teasing yet still tired. You allowed yourself to glance at him in the reflection with slightly narrowed eyes, to which he smirked lazily. A large yawn escaped him, and he attempted to speak through it; you had to fight your smile at how silly he sounded, “You can shower, if you want.”

“I am not showering while your uncle’s here, that’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?” Eddie questioned while closing his eyes again. You shrugged despite knowing he couldn’t see it, trying to think of an explanation.

“It’s just… weird. I don’t know.” 

Eddie leaned back onto his arms, listless eyes looking you up and down for a few moments. Yet again, you felt self-conscious under his stare, so you glared back as if to challenge him. Rolling his eyes at your stubbornness, he flopped back down on the mattress with a heavy sigh.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

You both went quiet for a minute, as if the awkwardness was setting in all over again. You didn’t know each other nearly well enough to be around one another in the morning like this, you both knew that now. It felt far too intimate to be a part of someone else’s morning routine, and a small part of you was regretting the decision to stay here with Eddie last night - you wished you’d considered that before climbing into his bed as if it were your own.

This was a strange scenario for you to maneuver, but you couldn’t let Eddie know how weird it felt, couldn’t let on the nerves that kept jolting with each minute you were here. So, you put on your best game face and swallowed your discomfort, going back to fussing with your hair as if nothing in the world could break through your icy exterior.

“I should get going, Munson.” You said in your best cool, careless tone, “My parents are gonna kill me when I get home.”

Eddie huffed a slight laugh, brought down an octave or two thanks to his scratchy morning voice, “Well, at least we accomplished that, right?”

You gave him a puzzled look in the mirror before turning around to face him, leaning back against the edge of the desk. Eddie took in your expression for a moment before realizing that you were confused by what he said. Again, he yawned.

“Wasn’t that part of the plan - piss off your parents? I’d say we did an even better job killing your reputation than we expected to; I deserve a metal or something.”

“Oh,” you answered in a small voice. Eddie was right - you did already accomplish everything you’d set out to do when you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Your reputation was in the mud, you obviously got under Duncan’s skin, and after last night you knew for a fact that your parents would be downright pissed. What else was there to do?

Despite yourself, you were… disappointed? No, you couldn’t be. Maybe the realization of it all was just jarring, maybe you needed time to comprehend that you were now officially an outcast. Or maybe what you felt was fear at the prospect that moving forward you were no longer the terrifying ice princess. Yeah, that must’ve been it.

You could feel Eddie’s stare as he inevitably tried to decipher the look on your face. You tried to relax the furrow of your brow as you continued to consider what was next for you as a newly appointed social pariah.

“So, I guess we’re… done?” Eddie questioned as if confused by the idea, as if he needed to hear the words leave your mouth, tilting his head while meeting your eyes. He was right, but that seemed strange to wrap your mind around.

“Technically.” You shrugged, looking down at your feet in thought. But after a quick moment, an idea crossed your mind and a faint smile spread across your lips; you looked back up at Eddie as if you were relieved, “Though… it’d be pretty lame to call it quits now - they’d all think we got scared because of the homecoming shit.”

Eddie’s brow went up curiously, surprised by your line of thought; you could see the cogs turning in his own head as he considered it, “You think so?”

“I know these people, Munson.” You crossed your arms and jutted your hip, suddenly finding amusement (and perhaps relief) in the knowledge that this scheme wasn’t over quite yet, “They’re gonna keep poking and prodding at me until they get what they want or they get bored - it’s the same shit I used to do. We can’t give them the satisfaction of thinking they broke us up after what they did; if anything, I think that should make us stronger.”

Eddie finally sat up, the sheets falling away from his chest as he met you with an eager, conspiratory smile; you tried to focus, ignoring the curious desire to study his newly exposed tattoos, “So, keep up the charade, make them hate how much of a happy couple we are?”

You nodded as your smile grew larger, “At least until all this shit blows over. Give them another month or two; they’ll get bored of us and set their sights on the next sorry loser that catches their attention.”

For a long beat, Eddie studied you keenly, his expression relaxing as he considered this new course of action. Again, you felt vaguely self-conscious at how closely he seemed to be looking at you, but you refrained from showing it. Eventually, Eddie shrugged.

“Well, no time like the present.” He swung his legs off the mattress and stretched his arms above his head, twisting his back to work out any kinks. You briefly glanced down at his bare legs, your eyes trailing up; but you quickly brought your attention back to his face, wondering why you were so damn interested in looking at Eddie all of a sudden, “You sure you don’t want to shower?”

You pressed your lips together at the question, “Somehow that feels like an insult.”

He teasingly rolled his eyes with a sleepy grin, “Despite your best efforts, I’m learning you, princess. You’re not the type to go to school without looking put together like a doll.”

Damn, he had you pegged. You sighed in defeat, causing his grin to grow into one of self satisfaction.

“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

Eddie sighed, but the amusement on his face was still clear as day, “One of these days I’ll get you to admit I’m right about something, you know.”

You gave him a taunting smile while heading towards the door, yet again challenging him, “Well, today isn’t that day, Munson.”

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By the time you and Eddie had gotten yourselves cleaned up and made it to Hawkins High, third period was nearly over, so instead of wasting your time by heading in, the two of you shared a cigarette in the van, waiting around for the bell to ring. Even then, you took your time walking into the school building and through the halls.

Now that you were amongst your peers again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit tense - after all, prior to today you’d spent the week feeling like shit, feeling the pressure of everyone’s judgment weighing down on you. The icy armor you wore so well was back on as you and Eddie made your way down the hall, feeling far more confident with a cold look on your face and a small glare in your eyes. No one’s criticism could touch you so long as you appeared stony and unapproachable.

In contrast to your frosty demeanor, Eddie fell naturally back into the playful, cheeky boyfriend role he had established for himself - his arm was lax over your shoulder, his smile was charming as ever, and his words were more forward and suggestive. It was funny to observe following the past sixteen or so hours you’d spent together - alone, Eddie always seemed to pull back a little, to give you space as he still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of you. Alone, you ironically became the more forward and brash one. But so long as there may be an audience watching, Eddie was willing to perform, putting up his own mask of total confidence in this false relationship between you two.

Just like a dutiful and caring boyfriend would, Eddie walked you to fourth period, very intentionally pulling you into a hug and shooting a wink at Duncan after catching him watching the two of you. The hug was a total shock, since neither of you had done that before, and you hoped that your shoulders didn’t seem stiff or your arms didn’t seem awkward as they snaked around Eddie’s middle. You felt him laugh against your ear before pulling away, knowing that you were inevitably trying not to act affronted by the new display of affection.

Once fourth period was over, Eddie quickly met you en route to the cafeteria, almost as if he had run just to meet you outside the classroom door; it seemed like maybe he was trying to make up for the past two days of avoiding and ignoring you.

Thanks to Eddie’s effortless presence, you were far less aware of whether or not people were looking at you, whether or not they were whispering about you. Any anxieties you had about your place at the bottom wouldn’t bother you so long as you had him as a distraction from all the bullshit going on around you.

When you two entered the cafeteria, you were certainly aware of the eyes that followed you, of the way your former friends were surely whispering about you. But with your confidence restored, you didn’t even spare them a thought or a glance, guiding Eddie past fellow students with the gentle tug of your hand.

As you two entered the lunch line, you pulled your hand from Eddie’s so you could pick up a tray, which he promptly took from you. You shot him a look, but before you could say anything, he smirked playfully.

“I’ve got it, just stack it up with enough food for both of us.” You rolled your eyes, but acquiesced to the instruction, leading Eddie down the row of unappetizing food, “You’re gonna sit with us today.”

You pulled a bit of a face at him while picking up two bowls of shitty school spaghetti. As you set them on the tray, you hummed as if it were an answer, turning away from Eddie quickly as you continued to eye the limited food options.

Unsatisfied by your lack of response, Eddie continued, his tone perhaps mildly peeved that you made so little effort to engage with his friends, “You know at this point it would look ridiculous if you didn’t.”

You glanced up at him while biting the inside of your cheek, picking up more food for you both, “Something tells me your friends wouldn’t want me around, Munson.”

Eddie sighed, seeing that you were prepared to argue rather than admit he was right. He leaned in over your shoulder as if to make a point, keeping his voice a little low, “Considering that you want to keep up this hoax, all of you are gonna have to learn to tolerate each other.”

You turned your head to meet his eyes, the position reminding you of how closely you’d stood together back at the arcade - foreheads practically touching, Eddie hovering in your space in a way no one ever did. You gave him a mocking pout, catching the small glimmer of amusement in his eyes that he tried desperately to fight, “Oh, so it’s only me that wants to keep up this hoax?”

His brows rose with easy insistence, knowing you had little room to argue. Behind you two, someone coughed impatiently, reminding you to keep moving and not hold up the lunch line. You sighed and continued forward, grabbing a couple boxed milks that you discarded on the tray before leading Eddie out towards the lunch tables.

“Fine.” Your tone is stubborn even as you agree, “I’ll sit with you - if they’ll let me.”

As he came up alongside you, Eddie rolled his eyes while gently nudging you with his shoulder - you were never going to make even the most simple tasks easy. You could already see Eddie’s customary lunch table occupied by Gareth and the freshmen you’d met earlier in the week; you briefly wondered at how they could’ve possibly met, but didn’t entertain the idea further. Coming from the opposite direction was Jeff, who showed mild surprise on his face when he saw you and Eddie together again; you caught yourself wondering what the group thought of the past few days, wondering what Eddie did or didn’t say to them about it.

But before you could reach the lunch table, however, you caught Amelia in your line of sight, her long strides purposeful as she came in your direction. You did nothing to mask the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, immediately annoyed at the prospect of talking to her; god, you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit she was about to lay at your feet. The smug little look on her face was one you knew quite well, the kind of expression she wore when she was about to be antagonistic just for the hell of it, so you mentally prepared for whatever bullshit was coming for you.

As she blocked your path to the lunch table, Amelia crossed her arms with a self-satisfied expression on her face; you tried to appear as disinterested in her as possible, staring past her shoulder at the nerds watching you before sharing a glance with Eddie. A mean smirk spread across Amelia’s lips as she looked you up and down with blatant criticism. Even without looking, you were certain that the rest of her friends were watching, waiting for whatever silly insults Amelia had planned for you. You could also feel the eyes of Eddie’s friends watching, too, along with anyone else who cared enough about trivial high school drama.

“Hm, yesterday’s outfit? That’s interesting.” Amelia started, looking between you and Eddie with a suggestive purse of her lips.

You responded with a bitchy smile of your own, “Paying enough attention to me to know what I’m wearing? That’s interesting.”

You don’t even give yourself time to enjoy Amelia’s galled look, grabbing Eddie’s sleeve and attempting to breeze past her as if she wasn’t even there. But you knew Amelia well and could feel her following just a step behind you, so once you’d reached your table you spun back around to face her. She stumbled back just a step as you caught her off guard, so you started talking before she could have the chance.

“Why are you so concerned with me? You can’t possibly still be jealous - after all, you got my sloppy seconds, doesn’t that make you the top of the food chain now?” You crossed your arms with a lax expression, knowing your casualness would get to her; Amelia always hated when you’d put on this emotionless front in the middle of a fight between you two. As she scowled, you simply raised your brow expectantly, which seemed to irritate her even more.

“Jealous of what, your trashy new boyfriend? Give me a break.”

You took a small step towards Amelia that wouldn’t normally have appeared threatening, calm as ever while you gave her a taunting grin. You briefly looked past her at your former lunch table, everyone there watching attentively. As you caught Duncan’s smug face, your eyes darkened a little, your need for retaliation these past few days coming back up. But you didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool again, so you took a composed breath while considering your plan of attack. Your gaze was calculated as you let your eyes travel over the nearby lunch tables, seeing the audience that had formed for the show that you and Amelia were putting on. Maybe you’d give them just a little something to talk about.

You bit your lip before grinning, giving Amelia a faux sorry expression as you spoke, “Well, considering that you settled for a pathetic two-pump chump and I’m getting such mind blowing dick that I’m missing school for it… I’d say you probably have a lot to be jealous of.”

The sound of surprise that left the people around you was like music to your ears; Eddie choking in shock behind you was so amusing that in other circumstances you would have laughed. But you were far more focused on Amelia than anyone else, taking glee in her affronted look and the disgusted scoff that left her throat. You gave her another condescending smile before turning back around, meeting Eddie’s surprised eyes as you settled into the seat at the head of the table. He was momentarily fixed where he stood, so you gave his arm a small, insistent tug; pulling himself together quickly, Eddie set down the tray and dragged a chair up alongside you.

You could feel the burn of Amelia’s eyes as she stared you down, undoubtedly trying to come up with some scathing remark. But you happily ignored her, playfully meeting Eddie’s eyes as he put on his own show of disinterest in your former friend. That’s one thing you could appreciate about Eddie - you were both good at quickly putting up your fronts and pretending. The rest of the table, however, seemed frozen with fear - you’d have to tell these boys to grow a pair.

“You’re disgusting.” Amelia spat with a shake of her head. Her tone was sickly sweet, “I can’t imagine that’ll get you many votes for homecoming queen.”

Despite your annoyance, you met her eyes again with a condescendingly kind look of your own, “We have better things to do than go to homecoming. So, when I win, the crown is yours - my gift to you.”

She rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over one shoulder with a snobby expression, “As if.”

“Well, remember to think about me while you’re slow dancing to Kenny fucking Loggins.” You mocked her with your best dazzling smile, pulling your attention away from her as if she’d been dismissed from your court.

As Eddie and the rest of the boys looked between you two, awaiting the next blow, you grabbed a milk carton from your tray, completely ignoring Amelia’s presence now. You were certain she made some frustrated face at you, but you wouldn’t dare give her the satisfaction of meeting her eyes again. You were done with this confrontation, and you just knew she loathed that you got the final word. With a huff, she eventually marched away, prompting you to look around the table with a self-satisfied smirk.

Jeff and Grant had both stood back during your confrontation with Amelia, waiting for it to end before they dared approach the table. As the lunch room returned to normal order, the boys awkwardly joined the rest of you. For a few long moments, none of them dared to speak as you opened your milk carton and took a long sip - was it fear or discomfort that held their tongues?

“You gotta warn a guy before you say shit like that.” Eddie broke the silence with a slightly droll tone, drawing your attention as your brow furrowed. Despite his cheeks being a little flushed, he otherwise looked like the cool leader his friends had come to expect.

“Say what?” You asked while setting one of the plates of spaghetti in front of you. Your gaze briefly traveled around the table - all of the nerds had varying degrees of amusement and trepidation on their faces as they looked back, none of them quite sure what to make of you yet. A short laugh escaped Eddie as he leaned back in his chair.

“I believe your exact words were ‘mind blowing dick.’” Although he wore a cocky smile for his friends, Eddie’s eyes suggested that the statement had flustered him a little. Around you, you boys snorted and held back laughs, which drew Eddie’s attention; he suppressed his own humored expression, “Oh, so now you guys think she’s funny?”

The freshmen looked a little unsure, clearly still unfamiliar with Eddie’s nuances; meanwhile, the older boys had come to know his antics well enough. Jeff quickly countered, although he couldn’t seem to look at you as he spoke, “Personally, I’d be flattered by the compliment.”

Grant nudged him as they laughed together. You couldn’t help your own grin as you looked back towards Eddie - maybe winning his friends over wouldn’t be as hard as you thought. And maybe they also wouldn’t be as insufferable as you’d predicted.

“See? It was a compliment.” Your ears felt a little hot as you recalled the conviction in your voice as you addressed Amelia - talking about Eddie that way felt wrong now that you considered it, but in the moment your one focus was getting under the other girl’s skin.

Eddie fondly shook his head at you, speaking with a confidence intended to mask his embarrassment from his friends, maintaining his usual unphased attitude, “Well, half the school heard you’re getting mind blowing dick, so I hope you’re happy.”

The boys snickered again as you coyly looked down at the table - the more Eddie kept talking about it, the more your own embarrassment set in. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

“So, what are we doing on homecoming?” The freshman wearing a hat asked, causing the whole table to look at him questioningly. He elaborated as if the question was obvious, “She said we have better things to do - what are we doing?”

As you rolled your eyes, one of the other boys nudged him in the side, “We’re not doing anything, stupid, she was just saying that.”

“Jesus, keep your bony elbows away from me, Lucas.” The kid rubbed his ribs as if for emphasis. On his other side, the Wheeler boy made a face at his friends’ shenanigans, “Why would she just say that? We could do something, right?”

“Let it go, Dustin.” Wheeler said as if already exhausted by him.

You watched the freshmen as they began to bicker amongst themselves, your expression one of confused intrigue. They were like a bad car crash - you simply couldn’t look away. They talked over each other, their voices melding together while debating the validity of Dustin’s questions, the scene nearly to the point of being comical. As you continued to gape, you looked around the table at the older boys, who were already locked in a separate conversation, before your gaze settled on Eddie. You raised your brows as he met your eyes.

“So, what, are they the fucking three stooges?” Eddie snorted gleefully at the question.

“You get used to it.” He responded while poking at his food. You returned your attention to the boys as they continued; Eddie just let them go on like this? Although somehow amusing, it had also become exasperating.

So, with an irritated sigh, you planted your hands on the table as you spoke over them firmly, “Will you three shut up? Fucking freshmen…”

The last bit was muttered, but the table still heard it nonetheless. Everyone looked at you in various states of surprise. The one freshman - Dustin - however, looked the least taken aback by you, as if unaware of just how maddening his high energy was.

“Are we doing something for homecoming or not?” He questioned while meeting your eyes seriously; you raised your brow at his insistent need for an answer.

“You can do whatever you want, I don’t care.” You responded perfunctory before focusing on your food again, thinking that would be the end of it.

“I mean, we could do something.” Eddie chimed in, so you shot him a warning look as if to tell him not to get the freshmen’s hopes up. He willfully ignored it while continuing, “I know a guy who has kickbacks practically every weekend - might be fun to crash.”

You looked between Eddie’s eyes with a furrowed brow, to which he gave you an expectant look back. Who would Eddie know that wasn’t at this table right now, you wondered. Couldn’t be a high school kid, obviously, and given Eddie’s extracurriculars, there were only a handful of ways he could know someone else.

As if he was aware of your own curiosity, Gareth chimed in, “Who - Rick?”

“Who else?” Eddie gave his friend a cheeky grin.

“Man, Rick’s kinda weird even for us.” Gareth shook his head a little, although you could see he was nonetheless considering the idea; you figured none of these guys went to parties often, if ever, so even a shitty prospect was better than nothing.

“He’s not that bad.” Grant added eagerly, his grin suggestive as he added, “Maybe we’ll meet some college girls.”

You couldn’t help but sneer as the boys began talking amongst themselves at the possibility of a party with this Rick guy. You looked back at Eddie, who watched the group fondly before turning his attention to you, a pleased expression on his face as his grin spread a little wider.

“I’m not chaperoning a bunch of fourteen year olds at some stranger’s party.” You pointed towards the freshmen who began to protest spiritedly, so you leveled them with a harsh look, “You’re all still babies, you have no business going to parties yet.”

“Oh, come on,” Dustin, fearless as ever, tried to argue, “Didn’t you go to parties your freshman year?”

“Yeah, high school parties. Try finding one of those first.” You and Eddie met eyes, “This Rick guy isn’t some freak, is he?”

“Princess, everyone at this table’s a freak.”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean. If we go to this guy’s party, will I regret it?”

Eddie shook his head almost too quickly for your liking, but his voice sounded sincere, “You’ll be fine. If you get worried, just stick with me.”

You studied Eddie’s warm eyes in search of a lie, and he stared back earnestly as if to prove his point. So, you mulled over the idea for a short while, trying to consider its pros and cons - you hadn’t been to a party in a couple months, and even now with your disinterest in high school shit, you still loved a good party. On the other hand, even Gareth thinks Rick is a little weird - that could possibly spell trouble. But, Eddie seemed relatively mindful about this sort of thing, so if he said you’d be fine, you were inclined to believe him.

So, you accepted the idea, giving Eddie a quick nod as the corner of your mouth pulled up, “I do love parties.”

The table celebrated your agreement, as if all of this was riding on you. Again, they could do whatever they wanted without you around, you didn’t care - but maybe they were seeking your approval because they knew Eddie wanted it, too. You quickly turned your gaze back on the freshmen, who were a little too eager.

“No, you are not invited.” They moaned and groaned about it, and briefly you felt like some kind of babysitter, “I’m looking out for you guys, you’ll thank me later.”

Dustin muttered a “yeah right” as Lucas and Wheeler scoffed in disappointment. It was nearly comical, but you refrained from smiling at them - it may have sounded silly, but in your way you were looking out for them, knowing that they were still just inexperienced kids. They couldn’t just jump into a party like this, they needed to at least attend a high school dance or get invited to a pool party first.

When you looked back at Eddie, he had something of a sweet smile on his face, which caused a mild skip in your heart - you almost didn’t like the look, it felt far too personal. Maybe he knew, too, that you were just looking out for the younger boys despite your cold exterior, maybe he wondered what things you’d seen or experienced at parties to make you so mindful of bringing a bunch of kids along with you. To distract yourself, you tore your gaze from him and looked at Gareth, who seemed a little nervous once he realized you were staring at him.

“Tell me honestly, how weird is this guy?” Gareth glanced between you and Eddie, unsure how to answer. You insistently pointed at him with your plastic fork, a sad piece of spaghetti falling from it back into the bowl, “Come on, don’t make me regret agreeing to this idea.”

Eddie started, “He’s fine--”

Gareth shrugged, “Dude’s just… used too much of his own supply.”

Ah, so he was a drug dealer. Considering that that’s how Eddie made his money, you couldn’t be too critical of that, it would make you a damn hypocrite. But that didn’t ease your hesitation any, since you knew nothing else about Rick, so you made a face at Gareth that insisted he continued.

“I don’t know, he’s not all there half the time. But I don’t think he means any harm.” Gareth, again, met Eddie’s eyes as if seeking approval.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Eddie said in an easy tone, nudging your toe with his while grinning at you. You narrowed your eyes a little, but accepted the information Gareth gave you, wanting to believe him. Eddie slouched in his seat beside you, resting his arm over the back of your chair, “It’ll be fun, princess, I promise.”

You sighed a little, nudging Eddie’s foot back as you continued poking at your food, “And way better than a stupid homecoming dance, right?”

Eddie smiled back with a nod, “Way better.”

You hummed in response, unconsciously relaxing back against Eddie’s arm, looking towards the freshmen again as they tried to argue their case with the rest of the table.

.

.

additional a/n: idk if anyone else noticed, but one of Eddie's friends isn't actually credited with a name, so I've been using the actor's name to supplement :)

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter

@daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh

@eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames

@graciehams @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00

@maskofmirrors @mewchiili @miaajaade @mmmunson @moonisu

@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola

@sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[devotedlykoneshots]

KYUNGSOO(D.O) : JUST FRIENDS

Genre: smut , minors dni,🔞, best friend to lovers, fake dating

Word count: 4,159

--------

For as long as you can remember you and d.o have been shipped by your close friends, they always tried to put you two together as much as possible.

You and d.o didn't really mind either, you both loved spending time together and making new memories together.

At least that's what it was for you, just memories to tell your children and grandchildren when you grew older.

D.o and you were the complete opposite but still alike in many ways, when he hated socializing you thrived in it.

When he succeeded in the kitchen you failed astronomically.

You balanced each other but now....all you wanted to do was strangle him, the bastard opened your curtains and let the atrocious sunlight through onto your unsuspecting face.

Ultimately ruining your wet dream about a celebrity you could never have.

"close the curtains! my eyes are

burning! "you were so dramatic but he didn't mind that, you were one of his closest friends in the world and he found it quite amusing but he'd never admit that.

"don't you think you've slept in

long enough, you little vampire?"he asked and sat down beside you pulling the covers off your body.

You threw a pillow in his direction and he easily dodged it , chuckling at your weak attempt to get him to leave you alone.

"Get up , they're serving food at that diner for couples again" you'd forgotten about that, the little diner near the boys apartment always did this every year for valentines day.

"Why aren't we sending Chen? He's in an actual relationship" you grumbled and he pinches your arm , grabbing your other arm to keep you from hitting him.

"I'll buy you dumplings later"he offered and you sat up , stretching with a smile on your face.

It was safe to say you're thoroughly spoiled.

"Deal"you agreed and got up, heading to the bathroom to get ready and kyungsoo headed back to the living room where the guys were watching TV.

"Baekhyun, you're buying y/n dumplings later" he stated as he plops himself down on the couch beside Kai.

You were finally ready to head over to the guys apartment and even though they brought Chen's 'family' car as you'd like to call it there still wasn't enough room for everyone, that's how you end up on kyungsoo's lap and you're convinced they planned this.

By they you mean baekhyun.

"Who are we texting?" Kyungsoo asked and you smiled slightly, turning your head to look at him.

"One of my side chicks" you commented and he snorts, resting his chin on your shoulder as you lean back against his chest.

"Cheating on our anniversary? You wound me" he commented lowly and you'd have to note that was the first time you felt something towards d.o, his low voice just gave you the chills as it resonated in your ear

"Are we there yet?" He raised his eyebrows at you, taken aback by the sudden question and he looks out of the window.

"Almost, you know how slow Chen drives"he chuckles and there it goes again, his deep voice and you tried to refrain from shivering but you couldn't help it.

He definitely noticed.

"Are you cold? I told you to bring a jacket"he scolds you and you bite your bottom lip, you're snapped out of it when he starts to rub your arms in hopes of providing you some warmth.

He had no idea that he was unintentionally driving you crazy.

"We're here" Chen dropped you off at the diner and you both climb out of the car, you headed towards the entrance thankfully it wasn't too packed due to the time and most people were at work.

You had to walk up a flight of stairs to get to the diner, the first floor being the waiting area and you hear a snort coming from beside you.

"You're the clumsiest person I know, how did you survive past childhood?"he chuckles at your frame when you successfully avoided falling up the steps because lord knows how you managed to do that.

"Well it's a good thing I have you here to protect me"you turn to him and bat your eyelashes earning a snort from him before he shoves you lightly, an arm wrapping around your waist as you approached the buffet to further sell the idea of you being a couple.

However you didn't expect to see kyungsoo's boss there as well and witnessing kyungsoo tense up, it was clear that he was just as surprised.

"Fancy seeing you here, I had no idea you were in a relationship."his boss greets him and you smiled.

"He likes to keep me hidden"you say and kyungsoo gives your waist a squeeze of appreciation, thankful for the save.

"Will we be seeing each other at your promotion party?"he then asked kyungsoo, you looked at him confused and completely stepping out of character.

"What promotion party?"you asked and his boss also questioned him, confused that he hasn't told you yet.

"You didn't tell her?"

"We've been so busy lately there wasn't enough time"kyungsoo explained, it wasn't necessarily a lie either but knowing him he wasn't intending on attending his own party.

"Its okay"you assured him before turning to his boss.

"We'll be there"you promised and this time it was kyungsoo who stared at you in shock, disbelief even.

"Well then , I'll let you enjoy your evening, it was nice meeting you-"you take his hand to shake it and give him your name.

"Y/n"

---------

"Why didn't you say anything?"you asked him as you both sat on the couch, some of the guys had work and the chen was on a date with his girlfriend.

"I wasn't gonna go, its not a big deal"you snorted, not surprised.

"You got a promotion soo and that is a big deal, when is the party?"you questioned him and he leans back against the couch.

"Its next weekend, out of town"you raised your eyebrows.

"Then I should get packed"you said, standing up and he grabbed your hand, getting your attention.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"he asked, genuinely concerned.

"We have to, can't risk people thinking you're a liar and a fraud"you say and squeeze his hand.

"Thank you"he said and you nodded, pulling away from him to go and get packed. You decided to bring at least 15 different outfits, you never know what you'll encounter over a three day period.

As the days pass by and the weekend approaches you both bid your friends a farewell, surprising you even more once you saw they were traveling all the way to California for his promotion party.

You were once again in disbelief when you'd checked into the hotel, of course you and d.o were sharing a room. You tried not to think too deeply about it and focused more on the room, it was more like a suite.

"I just got promoted to CEO" he answered your question before you even asked, your eyes full of amazement as you took in the room and kyungsoo has never seen you look so beautiful.

The bed is huge and the view is otherworldly , you couldn't believe your best friend has been hiding this life from you all this time.

Yet you still couldn't fathom why this man was still single.

"We're expanding our branch to California" he further explains, which explains why you'd flown here.

"A-are you moving here?" You asked , turning to him and he sat down on the bed. Your heart sank.

He was moving all the way to California.

"I'll come visit when I can" he tells you and you nodded, looking down at your hands and he takes them in his own to pull you closer.

"Don't cry" he says softly and you sit down beside him, his hand pressing against your cheek and you subconsciously nuzzle into his hand.

His heart melts at your little display of affection and the first real action without eyes on you, you were both alone and yet you were genuinely sad to part from him once this was over.

He pulls you into a hug and you hide your face in his neck, he rubs your back soothingly to help you calm down all while your brain tried to come to terms with this new revelation.

You both pull away eventually and he pinches your cheek.

The party started a little bit after 9pm and you spent the last three hours in a room with all of the women, thank god you'd known kyungsoo for a long time because they wouldn't stop asking questions.

Like his boss they were also surprised that he was in a relationship , according to them he'd been asked out several times but declined them all.

This was the part that made you do a double take.

He'd always tell these beautiful and successful women that he already had eyes for someone else, who could that possibly be?

As far as you know kyungsoo had never mentioned having another friend of the opposite gender, could he be keeping her a secret?

"He seems really smitten with you" taeyeon tells you and you bite your bottom lip at that.

Their comments made your mind wander to places and scenarios they shouldn't have, what could a life with d.o offer you.

Were you the mystery interest all this time? If so, why would he turn down the likes of someone as successful as taeyeon for you?

No , this was fake dating. It wasn't real.

Yet you'd never talked about ending the fake dating plan once this was over.

Would you keep fake dating? What did kyungsoo think?

The sound of Krystal telling you she was done with your hair snapped you out of your thoughts, the hair stylist was definitely worth all the hype she got.

You could never get your hair to be this perfect but you'd never had enough money to buy the right products so that was probably why.

"Kyungsoo is a keeper, I wouldn't let him go if I were you" was the last thing taeyeon said before you parted ways when you walked down stairs.

Although you thrived in public situations this was a little out of your comfort zone , kyungsoo was chatting and laughing with his co-workers when you arrived with the rest of the ladies.

You did not fail to catch his attention immediately and he excused himself from the conversation before coming over to you, a smile on his face once he got close.

"You look amazing" one of the ladies had gifted you with a silk brown dress and gold accessories , it was the perfect length and the slit on the side showed off your beautiful thighs.

D.o shook his head before his mind could wander to unholy places meant to be whispered to you within the safety of your room.

"So do you" you're pushed up against him as a group of people walk past you and you look up at him before stepping back.

"Come , let's get you a drink"he wraps his arm around your waist and guides you to the bar, multiple people greeting him and you along the way.

"You're really popular, huh?"he chuckles at that and shrugs his shoulder.

"Something like that"he orders a round of shots for you both and you engage in a competition like you usually do back home.

He let's you win of course as per usual.

"I'm gonna miss you" you state as you stare at him and he smiles sadly at you, leaning forward to kiss your lips but instead he ends up kissing your nose and you both burst out laughing.

"Were you trying to kiss me?"you asked him and he sits his glass down, attention drifting from the shot to you.

"What would you do if I was?"he asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

"Slap you, maybe"you grinned and he snorts, knowing you were probably right.

"That would sell it right?"he asked, you knew what he was talking about but still the thought of kissing d.o sent shivers up your spine.

"Probably" you said and he leans forward, cupping your cheek and your eyes close at the sensation of his warm hand against your cheek.

Your breath hitching when you open your eyes to see how close he was and just then he closed the gap, kissing your lips softly and it was a simple kiss.

No tongue or anything like that but still had your head spinning from the softness, it was a quick kiss before he pulled you into his arm in a hug and kissed your cheeks twice making you laugh.

As the night came to an end you and d.o found yourselves sitting amongst his peers, his hand on your knee to stop your leg from bouncing and your head on his shoulder as you were starting to get sleepy as it was now going past midnight.

"We're gonna head in for the night"his  hand leaving your knee to help you stand, arm around your waist as both walk to the elevator.

"Okay, see you tomorrow"you wondered what tomorrow had in store for you but you were too tired to  think about it further.

The ride up to your floor was quiet but not an uncomfortable silence, kyungsoo picks you up once the elevator opens and he carries you bridal style to your room.

You were wide awake now, not expecting that and honestly you didn't even know he was that strong.

Needless to say you kinda liked it, maybe a little too much.

"We need to talk"he'd said just before you could dip off to the bathroom to get changed.

"Okay....what is it?"you asked him, kicking off your shoes and looking over at him since he had yet to move.

"I don't know when it started or why it even started but all I know is...I like you , y/n and before you even ask its not as a friend"you're shocked but you kind of suspected there was something else going on the more the day moved along.

Especially after talking with taeyeon and hearing how he acted around other women, its very different from how he acts with you.

He's comfortable with you.

"I've liked you for a long time now, its why I didn't bother to date because none of them are you and they could never make me feel the way you do"you felt your heart melt at that, you were the mystery interest this whole time.

You were the one he'd had his eyes on for god knows how long, that explained why he complied with fake dating you for food at the diner.

"I just had to say it. And if you

don't want me that way, we'll

never mention this again. I'll be at your side when you get married, when you have kids, when you find the cure for cancer- and I'll be happy for you. I'll keep my feelings out of it-"you hadn't even noticed you hadn't responded to his confession yet, too caught up with matching up the missing pieces of the puzzle that kyungsoo left for you all these years.

"Soo shut up"you cut him off and he immediately raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, I can do that"he said and you took a deep breath before walking over to him , grabbing his shirt and pulling him to you as you kissed his lips.

Ultimately taking him by surprise but soon enough his hands found your waist to pull you closer to his body , your lips molding together like a seamless harmony and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Is that a yes?"he asked after pulling away for some air, panting slightly and you nodded as your eyes closed.

"I don't want you to keep your feelings out of it"you tell him and he picks you up, pressing you against the nearest wall and you gasp at this new side of d.o that you were witnessing.

"Fuck, I've waited for this for so long" he whispered against your lips as he licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let his tongue slip inside , the kiss deepening and his body pushing up against yours.

You whine softly as you feel something hard press against your center and your fingers grip his hair, his lips leaving yours and moving down to your neck as you tilt your head back.

You shiver upon feeling his mouth on your skin for the first time and he grows harder as he listens to you moan his name for the first time.

He wanted more.

"Wait are you sure about this?"he asked as he pulled back and his eyes drift over to your neck, no doubt a hickey already decorating your skin.

"Just fuck me already" you lock your legs around his waist as you make him press against your center again, a groan leaving his lip and you pull him into another kiss.

"Soo" you gasp as his hands grope both of your breasts and you both look down at his hands , he gulps before brushing his thumbs over your nipples and feeling them already hardened.

"Fuck you're not wearing a bra"you blush at his words and work to get his tie loose, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"The girls said I didn't need one with this dress"you gasped again as he rolls your nipples between his fingers through the thin material of your dress and winning him a whimper in response.

"Been thinking about ripping this dress off you since you walked through that door" he spoke and looked up at you before pulling down the top of your dress until your tits spill out of the material, he wastes no time as he licks his fingers and takes your nipple into his mouth all while rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

Your fingers wrap around the door handle to keep you anchored in the world of reality.

"You can't- its not mine" you tell him and he pulls you back into another kiss , carrying you to the bed now and pushing you down against it.

Your hands immediately go to his pants and you hastily unbutton them before pushing them down his legs, you pull him down onto you and your sudden movement makes him gasp.

He curses in your ear as your hand slips into his boxers and your hand wraps around his impressive length, he wasn't long like how you thought he'd be but he was thick.

"I want you inside now"you whine as you stroke his length and he bucks into your hand, a groan leaving his lips as you squeeze his base and pump faster.

"W-we've got all night"he stops you and pulls your hand out of his boxers, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you removing your dress and you're only left in a pair of black laced panties.

"My God, you're so fucking

gorgeous like this."he whispered and ran a hand up your body to grab your breasts in his hands, rolling your nipples between his fingers before his hand wraps around your neck and you gasp.

" oh fuck"your back arches off the bed and he trails his tongue up your body as he kisses a wet trail behind, when his tongue flicks at your sensitive buds you wrap your legs around him.

"You're driving me crazy"he coos at your comment before biting down on the plump flesh surrounding your nipple and your body arches again as he sucks it into his mouth.

You didn't know kyungsoo had this side to him and you definitely liked seeing this side, you definitely noticed he was more of a boob guy and you were proved right when he traps his cock between them.

A trail of saliva landing on the head of his cock to help him fuck your tits better and you let your tongue loll out , hearing him curse as his cock hits your tongue each time he thrusts.

"Soo please , I don't need any foreplay. I just need you inside of me. Right now."kyungsoo laughs and pulls away from you , leaning down to kiss your lips and pulling away right after.

"One more thing, baby. Then I'll give you whatever you want" he promised before slipping between your legs and your breath gets caught in your throat as you realized what he was about to do.

"Relax, let me take care of you" you rest your head back against the pillow and bite your bottom lip as he takes off your panties, the first lick pulls a gasp from you before he's delving into your heat and he moans.

"Fuck, fuck"you swear and arch your back as he holds your hips down, looking up at you as he licks your wet core and your fingers grip his hair again.

" kyungsoo"you moan his name again and he groans as he sucks your clit into his mouth, your hips trying to buck against his mouth but failing due to his grip.

"You taste so good" he groans against your heat and his eyes roll into the back of his head as you tug his hair, his tongue licking you feverishly.

"Oh- I'm gonna cum" you cried out, your legs threatening to close around his head but he wraps his arms under your legs and hums in delight as you cum, your body trembling.

He pulls away and licks his lips as he comes up to kiss your lips, your arms wrap around his neck as you deepen the kiss and your hands push his boxers down.

"Please , I need you"you whimper and he pulls back to pull off the rest of his clothes, you hadn't even noticed that majority of his clothes were still on and you just about ripped his shirt off because he was taking too long.

His lips return to yours once he was undressed and you moan into the kiss as you feel his cock grinding against your folds, covering his bare cock in your slick embarrassingly at that.

"you're so wet, I bet I could just-" he pushes his cock into your entrance and you moan at the intrusion, your nails digging into his lower back and he groans as he grabs your hands to pin them above your head.

"Move , please" you beg and he bites his bottom lip as he starts to fuck his cock into you , you both moaning out at the same time and his hands move down to your hips for better leverage.

His thrusts becoming rougher gradually and faster, your moans and the sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

You'd feel bad about the red marks that littered across his back layer but right now you couldn't care less, especially not with him deep in your guts like he was.

Definitely not with him whispering praises into your ear about how well you were taking him, how you were crafted just for him and no one else.

"You're gonna make me cum again" you whimper and he reaches down to slap to your clit with his fingers , you gasped and cried out to him.

"You gonna cum all over your best friends cock?"he taunts you and you nodded your head, what would your friends think if they knew what you both were up to on this trip?

"Cum for me, come on pretty girl"he coos into your ear and you cling onto him, your face in his neck as you clench down around him, pulling a groan from his lips as you cum and he fucks you through your state of euphoria without slowing down.

"Fuck- almost there princess"he said and pulled back to drive his cock into your heat faster, now chasing his own orgasm and rolling your nipples between as he further prolonged your orgasm.

"Fucking hell" he quickly pulls and moves over your body, straddling your waist and strokes his cock until he's cumming all over your tits.

"Never pegged you for a tit guy" you smile at him lazily and he chuckles , leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

"Just yours"he gets off the bed and you smile as he disappears in the bathroom, you couldn't help but think back to earlier and him moving halfway across the world.

How would you make it work? Would it have been better not to explore this side of each other?

You only had 2 days left before your lives would change forever.

Well , a lot can happen in 2 days.

[chilldust]

Do the lighter parts of Luan's skin ever get burned?(since he has vitaligo) And does Sol burn at all considering he's part plant?

Yeah, he avoids direct sunlight and protects himself (and Solros lol) with a coat of sunscreen. The animutant skin is a bit different from human skin anyways and needs delicate care. It is a bit thicker than human skin, but also softer and doesn't have hair to protect it.

And Solros burns too because his skin is still very pale. Thankfully his petals cover his face up a bit (the petals don't burn as easily as the rest of him)

But overall they live in quite northern climate, which means the sun isn't as dangerous and easily burning as it would be if they lived closer to the equator.

[undeadunalive]

HEADCANON

Excuses Jonathan uses to explain vampiric tendencies

As an Ekon, Jonathan is of course bound to certain aspects of his immortality, such as burning in sunlight, being repelled by holy symbols and faith, repelled by holy water and susceptible to garlic. Though for those who aren’t aware of what he is and his reasons for avoiding these things, he has a number of explanations behind these sides of him.

Sunlight

Although Jonathan can’t stand be killed by direct sunlight, it does burn him on the outside and literally boil him from the inside. He is able to walk around in daylight as long as the sun is either behind clouds or he keeps to the shade, so it’s only if sunlight hits him directly that it’ll cause an immediate reaction. Saying that, he can feel the sun even when it’s hidden as his every vampiric extinct is to avoid it at all costs. His main excuse for this is that he suffers from a very severe case of polymorphic light eruption, which is a skin rash triggered by exposure to sunlight or artificial ultraviolet (UV) light, thus giving him a good excuse for not being seen in direct sunlight. He does also note the fact that he works the nightshift, giving him more reason to only been seen at night.

Not eating or drinking

Due to the fact that Jonathan is only able to consume blood, as anything else will be rejected from his body and brought back up ( this includes if he tried to mix blood with something, such as whisky, coffee, etc. ) He does his best to pretend otherwise, at times, usually using what Lady Asbhury did, making tea and simply enjoy its aroma. This is something he does at work with the likes of tea and coffee, but he will never actually be seen eating or drinking anything. Due to being unable to consume anything other than blood, Jonathan simply explains that he suffers from severe food allergies, both restricting what he can eat and how much, which explains his malnourished figure and why he makes it clear to people not to make food for him or buy him drinks, as they would go to waste because he can’t physically consume them no matter how much he might want to.

Bloodshot eyes

As Jonathan only consumes and transfuses small amounts of poor quality blood and animal blood to sustain himself enough to keep control rather than fully draining people or properly quenching his thirst, his eyes do remain the closest to their natural appearance as possible. The only change is that each sclera is slightly more bloodshot, though this is something he easily explains away as being due to working the nightshifts and excessive hours, which while those are true, they’re obviously not the primary cause of it. 

Photographs

Since Jonathan is immortal he does try his best to stay away from being photographed as much as possible. Although there do remain old pictures and photographs of him from childhood and before his return from the First World War and subsequent transformation. He simply states that his work comes first rather than his face and name being plastered all over it. This is true, as he’s never looked to his profession or medical research for profit or fame, but it does also serve as an extra reason for not wanting to be photographed.

Never ageing

Seeing as Jonathan is unable to age, he’s taken to posing as each generation of his own family. As prior, if photographed and someone notices that he looks exactly the same as the man in old photographs from prior eras, or they recognise his name, he explains that they’re simply his grandfather, great grandfather etc and that they just happen to all look very alike, chose the same profession, were each renowned in their shared fields, and all carried on the same name. By modern times, Jonathan is posing as his own great grandson, technically making him Dr. Jonathan Reid III. He also makes a point of moving every decade or so before it becomes obvious to people around him that he doesn’t age at all. 

Garlic

As an Ekon, Jonathan can be repelled by garlic, again, this can’t kill him, but his excuse for this is just simply that he’s highly allergic to garlic, which isn’t really a lie. 

PSD CREDIT

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day One: Sparks Fly

Summary: Virgil goes deeper into the forest than he’s ventured before in the hopes of gathering more food. He finds more than he bargained for when a fairy claiming to be the prince of the forest begins to follow him.

Warnings: food mention. If there’s more please let me know!

Ships: Prinxiety (Virgil x Roman)

Prompt: Feel a spark when you touch your soulmate

WC: 3959

AO3

Tugging his long, dark cloak impatiently away from a jagged branch, Virgil skid down the steep embankment swearing the entire way. He didn’t often venture this far into the woods but he was getting just desperate enough to find gatherable ingredients he had decided to risk it. Honestly as long as he kept his eyes straight ahead and avoided the beckoning twinkles of light between the trees he should be fine. Thankfully this time of year the river was reduced to a large creek at best, making crossing to the other side where he was certain to find berries and mushrooms aplenty quite easy. It was only a matter of keeping his balance on the slimy rocks that normally made up the river bed, a skill he had mastered before he had even been entrusted as a gatherer.

Hiking his pants up to just below his knees he carefully adjusted his pack to be more balanced and draped the bottom of his cloak over his arm for good measure. The last thing he needed was to be scolded for dripping mud all over the floors again when he returned to the kitchens. Absentmindedly rubbing the stinging memory from the back of his head he hopped to the first rock, breath hissing between his teeth as the cold water rushed over his heated skin. With another breath he was perched on the second rock and then the third, toes gripping the moss in a mostly unneeded measure for stability. Wiggling a bit so his pack would recenter he eyed his next target, muscles tensing in preparation for the bigger leap.

“What are you doing?”

Squawking in alarm, Virgil tipped back dangerously, arms pinwheeling as his feet lost their purchase and let him fall backwards into the creek. Taking a brief moment to thank the gods he hadn’t landed on a rock he sat up quickly, sputtering as water ran down his face and soaked his shirt more than it already was. His cloak dragged behind him as he tried to get up, aiding only in him slipping back again with an unceremonial splash.

“Oh my dear I didn’t mean to frighten you!” There was more mirth than malice in the voice but that didn’t stop Virgil from flinching away from the strange hand that reached towards him. It retreated as he shoved sopping hair from his eyes and squinted against the sun to try and see what idiot made it a habit to scare people when they were jumping on wet stones. His breath caught when a face finally came into focus, sunlight forming a halo around the most beautiful person Virgil had ever seen.

His brightness was almost blinding, with shining red curls looking like spun gold in the light. Sharp features complemented kind brown eyes and tanned skin flecked with earth. Like Virgil he was barefoot, but instead of wearing sturdy pants and shirt to protect himself from the woods, autumn-red pants flowed just below his knees with an equally flowy white shirt tucked into them and unbuttoned to the chest. Despite the darkness of his skin he seemed to radiate his own gentle light that somehow made the sun look dull by comparison, making Virgil idly wonder if this was what seeing a god was like.

“Prince actually, but you do know how to inflate the ego.” The man chuckled.

Face burning with the realization that he had not only said that outloud but he had also been sitting in the water gaping like a stunned fish for entirely too long. Mumbling low curses under his breath he once again struggled to his feet while waving away the other’s outstretched hand impatiently. A fairy prince coming to pester someone with zero assets or connections- the fae were worse pranksters than they had the reputation for. Sighing, he decided to wade the rest of the way through the creek since he was already soaked, leaving the stranger behind in hopes he would stay there.

“So you never did answer.” No such luck apparently. “You do realize what part of the forest you’re in right?”

Virgil gritted his teeth. “I don’t wish to consort with your kind fae. I’ll only be in here for a little while.”

“My kind?” Virgil winced as he detected insult in his tone. “My kind are the reason your kind feel safe enough to traipse wherever you please regardless of obvious territorial lines!”

Virgil glanced at him quickly as he began scrambling up the incline of the bank. “Territorial lines?”

The man drew himself up proudly, keeping pace with Virgil as he effortlessly stepped his way up the embankment rather than crawling. “This part of the forest is mine, a long way from the edge of the river by your route. I could turn you into dandelion fluff for trespassing here.”

Virgil raised an unimpressed brow as he searched around for his next handhold. “Mhm, I’m sure you could.”

Smirking as the other man stomped his foot impatiently he made it up and over to the other side, slinging his pack around to see how damaged the things he had already gathered were from his earlier fall. Shoulders sinking as he surveyed the smashed contents he shot a glare at the stranger, who was currently standing on tiptoes with his arms crossed trying to see inside the bag.

“Humans used to grovel at our feet, what happened to that? Also is it custom to smash ingredients well before they’re cooked? I’m not caught up with the latest human affairs. Terribly dull, most of them.”

Gritting his teeth Virgil dumped the berries and mushrooms he had collected onto the forest floor, water that had seeped in from the top sloshing out as well and coming out like a weird, thick juice for all the mush everything had turned into. “They only smashed because I fell- something I never do unless someone decides it's a good idea to startle someone who’s trying to balance.”

The man looked unimpressed. “Why were you coming over this way anyway? There should be plenty of the things you were collecting on the other side of the river...and much closer to the nearest village too might I add.”

“Fall makes the pickings slimmer the closer to the village you are. Other people gather, animals eat what ‘s left, sparcer trees means more sun means things ripen and fall faster. I was trying my luck further in.”

“And you came alone?”

“None of your business.” Virgil hauled up the pack and stood. “I’m a tracker so I’m the one that usually gets sent out.”

“Oh really? Must be an expert to come out this late.”

“Sure.” Grunting, Virgil stepped over a rotting log and began pushing his way through bushes.

The man snorted. “Expert tracker- when I could hear you tromping through here from across the forest.” 

“Your words not mine. And stop following me, I’m only here to gather ingredients.”

They continued on in silence for a while, the fae following behind him near silently as he kept an eye out for anything edible. The crops had been plentiful this year but berries, nuts and mushrooms weren’t something locally grown, so gatherers routinely went into the forest to search for them to dry for the winter. Fast protein was always welcome in the harsher months when tracking fresh meat became a dangerous chore.

The forest was quiet here, nearly serene if it wasn’t for the fae still following him no matter how harsh a path he took- not that he was having much luck finding easier ones. He imagined he could easily get lost here if he wasn’t careful so he kept an eye on the direction of the shadows and any landmarks he spotted so he couldn’t get turned around. Fair folk were rarely hostile towards travelers as long as you met them on their level and stated your intentions clearly. Most of the time a certain level of sass while only answering them when they were curious served Virgil just fine. Of course, they didn’t normally follow him either but he remained unconcerned so long as the forest didn’t turn hostile. He didn’t think he’d succeeded in pissing the other off that much...hopefully.

It was some time later when Virgil found his cloak snared on a branch as he was struggling to get over a particularly high log. Crawling under it hadn’t been an option so now he was stuck straddling the thing awkwardly with the cloak snagging in one direction and his pants in the other. Blowing out a frustrated breath he startled as the fae appeared a foot from his face, brown eyes searching his green ones as he struggled not to fall backwards for a second time.

“What are you tracking anyway?”

“What?” 

“You’re a tracker, so what are you tracking?”

Virgil resumed trying to lift himself enough to get his other leg over without ripping his pants. “Nothing at the moment. Not that, again, it’s any of your business.”

The fae glanced at the dirt under his nails and hummed thoughtfully. “Mushrooms is it?”

Groaning, Virgil sat back down and instead reached behind him to try and tug his cloak free. “Partly.”

Trying and failing to get his cloak untangled he stumbled as his feet found solid ground after dangling for the better part of ten minutes, nearly overbalancing for the third time that day as the fabric went limp in his stranglehold. Looking up he saw the spot on the river bank he had climbed over not ten minutes before with a significantly lighter pack. Confused, he slung it around and peeked inside only to see it nearly overflowing with varieties of mushrooms he had never seen mixed with the more common ones he had found before. Opening his mouth to speak he quickly shut it as a light breeze carried faint laughter through the trees.

“Feel free to thank me later.” A faint voice called.

Looking down again, he carefully closed the pack and looked up at the sky. It was barely encroaching late afternoon...would anyone believe he had gathered these that quickly? Deciding to just say he had gotten turned around and found a good spot if anyone asked he started hiking his way back as slowly as he could. He’d have to find something to offer as thanks when he came back.

-----

“You’re back.”

Virgil shuffled around a low shrub between the trees awkwardly. “Mhm.”

“Do you need more mushrooms?” The fae crouched on a low branch, balancing on his tip toes as he watched Virgil struggle through the underbrush. 

“They asked me to come back- ow!” Stumbling away from the bush he knelt down to tear away some thorns sticking out of his pants. “Since I was so successful yesterday they asked me to come back to find more. Among other things.”

“They?”

“People from the kitchens.” He started off in a slightly different direction, seeing sunlight a little ways away and hoping for a clearing.

“What else do you need?”

“A variety of things to dry for the winter. Nothing to concern yourself with. I won’t invade your forest for too long.”

“A shame. My forest is beautiful but I’ve found I enjoy looking at you more.”

Virgil stopped in his tracks as he tried to process the comment. Was this a trick? Some weird fae flirting technique to get his guard down so he gave away his soul? Which reminded him-

“Not because of that comment, but for helping me the other day.” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a smooth skipping stone, the surface a perfect, uniform pale gray. He knew fairies rarely had use for human materials but things like this could be enchanted or used for entertainment- the more pleasing to the eye the better. “Here. And...thank you.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the stone, taking it carefully and running his fingers gently over the smooth surface. “For me?”

“Don’t expect it again, I don’t expect anything more from you.” Hoping that would settle it, Virgil continued on in the direction of the clearing. Fae were always tricky to get involved with and with the fall harvests approaching, continuing to speak with one claiming to be a prince wasn’t something he would allow himself to get involved with- at most for the sake of the village and at the very least for his own sanity.

“A pity really.” The fae called from behind him. “I could help you find whatever you need.”

Gritting his teeth, Virgil resisted. “I don’t need any help.”

“Right, expert tracker and all that.” He startled as his pest of a companion appeared in front of him waving a hand dismissively. “This is my forest and I can bend it however it suits me at the moment. Right now it suits me to help you, why won’t you let me?”

“I don’t want to owe you anything. Owing things is a risky business- especially with fae. No offense.”

The fae sniffed indignantly, putting a hand  dramatically over his heart. “No offense indeed! I suppose this wound was here before you arrived, it’s fine really.”

Virgil glanced over as the other man draped a hand over his eyes and leaned back slightly, sighing loud and deliberate and trying to disguise the fact he was peeking at his human companion from under his arm. Virgil couldn’t help it- he barked out a laugh he managed to quickly catch with a hand slapped over his mouth. Watching as a wide grin took over the fae’s features he realized he was too late and the damage had been done. He stalked over and jabbed the air in front of Virgil with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“You like my company!”

Blinking, Virgil lowered his hand. “Absolutely not!”

“You do! You find me amusing! Dare I say charming!”

Snorting, Virgil readjusted his pack. “Uh-huh. Nothing like a raving lunatic spouting he’s royalty to get the giggle juice flowing.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe fae will say anything to strike whatever emotion they want in a human. Whether it be fear or awe, the end goal is always to lead someone astray.”

Glancing over he startled when he saw the other man actually looked a bit hurt at his words, head down and eyes flicking to the side with a tight draw to the lips. A trick...obviously. But one that had him reconsidering his choice of words.

“Look I-”

The fae held up a hand. “It’s okay! I’ll prove it to you! You need mushrooms and berries and the like right?”

“Uh- yeah?” Virgil watched as the fae stepped forward and furrowed his brow in concentration. Bringing his arms up towards the clearing he swung his arms out and up before slouching tiredly. 

Virgil squinted against the sunlight shining overhead, looking around in wonder. They were in a large clearing absolutely teeming with enough plantlife to fill his pack ten times over. Dappled shade dominated at least half of the clearing as the sun shone through the bright trees at an angle. Soft grass soothed his aching feet that had previously been treading on nothing but snapping sticks and long-dead leaves. It was beautiful- and  glancing over at his companion as bright gold shot through his hair and the sudden calming warmth relaxed him- Virgil could tell he was in his element. 

“Did you just use magic in front of me?” He honestly hadn’t thought the fae would go that far to prove a point.

“Watch regular fair folk top that for ability.” the fae mumbled under his breath. Speaking up, he flashed a bright smile and punched a hand lightly onto his hip. “Of course! Got the point across didn’t it? Never seen a fairy bend a forest before?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen a fairy perform any magic before. Usually they keep that to themselves. Honestly none of the good neighbors have paid me any mind before whether I was in their territory or not.”

“Oh.” The fae sputtered uselessly for a moment, fluttering his head to his hair to fidget with the curls. “Well, clearly that’s their loss. Berries, was it?”

Face burning, Virgil nodded mutely and made his way over to a far tree that looked like it promised chestnuts in the higher branches. He never figured having company, however forced upon him it was, would be so nice. 

Later, when Virgil’s pack was practically bursting at the seams, he reluctantly turned towards home. The afternoon had been wonderful, gathering enough to make the people in the village happy while listening to the other man as he sang almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Rich, low tones filled the clearing with a bright melody that Virgil didn't recognize but found himself humming along to- much to his companions utter delight. 

It had surprised him when he began singing popular festival songs after that, thinking that fair folk never bothered much with humans and therefore wouldn’t know many traditional tunes. But when Virgil had started softly singing along, offering a wry grin when the other man had started excitedly bouncing on his toes from having a singing partner he couldn’t bring himself to care. Eventually both of them had started getting louder and louder, swaying along to an invisible beat as they had continued collecting what was needed. Another reason Virgil was reluctant to return to the village for fear their noise had reached ears he’d rather not explain himself to. He found it strange that he felt drawn to stay, stranger still that he didn’t immediately think it was some trick on his companions' part. He just- enjoyed his company and wished he could come into the forest to actually visit rather than just his job. Pressing his lips together he turned around, smiling faintly and gesturing to his back.

“You really didn’t have to help, or keep helping. But thank you again-”

“Roman!” The fairy blurted at his slight pause.

Smirking, Virgil cocked his head to one side. “Aren’t I supposed to give you my name first?”

Roman shuffled slightly. “Yes well, seems a shame that if you were to think of me you’d have no name to give the thoughts.”

“Bold of you to assume I think of you after leaving the woods.”

“How could you not?” Striking a bold pose he sniffed indignantly. “It’d be an insult really, wounding me so deeply.”

Chuckling Virgil turned and started walking away. “I’ll be sure to bring bandages next time.”

“It’s a date, Doom and Gloom!”

“That a promise, Sir Sing-a-lot?”

“If my serenades are what brings you back I shall renounce my princehood and become a siren.”

“Your voice is certainly deadly enough, leads to something prettier though.” 

The forest was silent for a moment, before Virgil began walking as quickly as possible without stabbing his feet to the edge of the woods. Why had he said that? Did he mean that? Of course he meant it but why on the gods green earth had he said it? Could he even come back now? Chest tight with nervous anxiety and head swimming he didn't look back as he dashed out of the trees.

Though if he had he would have seen Roman standing stock still, face a mask of shock but slowly splitting into a flustered smile below rapidly reddening cheeks.

-----

When Virgil stepped into the creek the following day, it was without his pack. Early evening sunlight drifted through the trees as a slight breeze ruffled the cloak around his shoulders. Pushing his dark hair away from his eyes he surveyed the banks for any sign of Roman, deflating a bit when he saw none. It was stupid to think he could get away with saying something so forthright without reaping anything but negative consequences. It was just as well he supposed, consorting with fair folk never led to anything good after all. He had just- hoped this would be different.

Fair folk and humans rarely mixed well, platonic or not, and once he found his soulmate he was doubtful they would enjoy the thought of fraternizing so casually with one of the good neighbors- especially one as powerful as Roman appeared to be. If he knew anything of the fae it was that one didn't just casually bend an entire forest to their will with so little effort by themselves. Sighing, he turned to leave, feet missing the wispy grass of the clearing as they crunched through dead leaves.

“Going so soon?” Whirling around he was met with a charming smile, Roman balancing on a rock in the middle of the creek with a hip thrust out cockily.

“I thought- I didn’t think you’d come back around.”

“If you were trying to get me to leave, your methods are wanting my friend.” Roman squinted at him curiously. “No pack today?”

Virgil shuffled a bit before answering. “I- just wanted to see you.”

Blinking in surprise, Roman smiled warmly. “What an honor it is that our wants should align. Care to join me?”

Face burning, Virgil was quick to hop to the first rock, finding his balance easily. Keeping his head down he stepped from rock to slippery rock, finally getting close to where he assumed Roman would be. Looking up however, he didn’t expect to be quite as close as he had gotten, vision suddenly filled with deep brown eyes surrounded by flaming red curls. Yelping he tipped backwards, arms reaching forward in a desperate attempt to not repeat their first meeting even as he prepared to go home soaking once again.

To his surprise, the riverbed never rose to meet him, instead finding himself surrounded by the scent of wildflowers and moss in the most comforting embrace he’d ever been in. Virgil tilted his face up when he heard Roman gasp in wonder, his own eyes widening in disbelief as he leaned back to take in their surroundings. Colorful sparks seemed to catch the evening sunset as they bounced off and around them, falling like stars imbued with the colors of the sky and sizzling as they hit the water only to be immediately replaced by ten more. 

Leaning back but still catching each other’s arms they watched as the sparks continued to fly around them in a frenzied shower, dimming the already fading sun itself in their wake. Virgil watched as the light caught itself in Roman’s eyes, flecking the brown with golds and brilliant reds and deep purples. Seeing his face literally light up in amazement and wonder, Virgil couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, then tilting his head back and laughing out loud.

“What- why are you laughing?” Receiving no answer, Roman grinned uncertainly. “Do I have something on my face?”

Shaking his head, Virgil stifled another bout of laughter to answer. “I’ve never seen the sparks of soulmates before. Are they supposed to be this dramatic or is it just because of you?”

Smile turning more genuine and laughing himself, Roman let go of his arms and instead wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted, twirling them around with a sure step even as the water splashed around his feet. Setting him down gently, he rested his forehead against Virgil and held him as close as he could. 

“Maybe both- knowing me, probably more of the latter. Do you really mind?”

The sparks were dying down as the sky darkened and yet to Virgil his companion still stood bright enough that he feared nothing the darkness could threaten him with. Leaning impossibly closer he touched Roman’s nose to his  own and smiled softly.

“Absolutely not.”

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[buckysgoldenheart]

The Ways We Meet

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: While trying to avoid another man at an A-list event, you accidentally bump into Henry who has no interest in letting you go despite not even knowing your name.

Notes: idk, I thought it was kinda cute. Pov changes back and forth between Y/N and Henry A LOT. Implied smut (because I’m so damn bad at writing full smut).

Words: 2211

Y/N:

These events pissed you off, they really did. Despite being only a director’s assistant, you were forced to attend. And it wasn’t the tight, sparkly dresses you had to wear that made you miserable, nor the heavy makeup or the overcrowding in rooms that far surpassed fire department code. It was more that you felt out of place and always managed to have one creepy man sense that from a mile away with the intent to pray on what looked like your innocence. You weren’t innocent, by far, but you supposed the impression you gave off by the way you stood away from others, sipping the same drink for a half hour, made sense.

Usually, drinking in a dark corner at an A-list event by the time midnight came around kept you safe. Those creepy men surrendered to your disinterest in them, and ventured to find an easier, more desperate woman. But not tonight. Tonight, this one was persistent.

You didn’t know his name; never let him get close enough to tell you, but he followed you around, not so subtly watching you with a look in his eyes that had you nauseous. Every step he neared you was a step you took in the opposite direction hoping to evade his creepiness.

Henry:

It had been a long night, too long, and Henry wished he could just go back to the hotel and watch a stupid movie until the early hours of the Sunday morning, since there was no way he would get a good nights sleep with the jetlag still wracking his body from the morning before.

He was saying goodbye to a couple coworkers, patting them on their backs in a friendly gesture when his shoulder roughly shoved forward. He stumbled a step, and before he could turn to see why, a woman passed him.

Her body was wrapped a snug, shiny red gown, and she had curls pinned back into an elegant bun, and when she turned to apologize, she lightly touched his bicep, smiling politely before continuing on her path. His breath hitched but she didn’t notice as she was gone a half-second later, buried somewhere in the mass of bodies.

His lips were still parted, stunned, until a friend tapped his shoulder.

“Hey, are you ok?” The friend asked, to which Henry only nodded, then walked away in the direction the woman went.

It took time to find her, but when he did, something in his chest seemed to both tighten and lighten in sync. He watched her from a distance as she took a gulp of the drink in her hand then placed it back on the counter and ducked. Henry chuckled, but then spotted him: A smallish man slowly making his way toward where she was unsuccessfully hiding.

Henry quickly shuffled his way through the crowd, and just moments before the other man could’ve spotted her, Henry snatched her by the arm and pulled her into a corner. With his back to the wall, he faced the crowd, his arms holding her snuggly, chest to chest, until the man passed them by.

Y/N:

“You’re safe now,” A man said, drawing your attention upward, and your eyes couldn’t help but widen. Henry Cavill was looking at you with a playful smirk on his handsome face that you never in a million years would have imagined be directed toward you. “Remember me?”

“Shit,” You cursed yourself. “It was you I bumped into earlier.” What a way to make a first impression. How was it that you always managed to look like an idiot in front of the hottest actors at these parties? This certainly wasn’t the first time. Chris Evans could confirm that, and probably wouldn’t hesitate to.

“It was.”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’m not normally so rude. I can explain.”

Henry’s shoulders shook as he laughed, and it reminded you that he still held you tight, with an odd protectiveness. “I think I’ve caught on to the situation,” He said. “Do you know that guy?”

You shook your head.

Henry casually nodded at your confirmation, that smile still on his face, but it slipped a moment later and you didn’t have to guess why. He looked back at you. “Do you think you could trust a stranger for a brief minute?”

“W-What?”

“Yes or no?” He quickly asked.

You blinked. “Yea, I guess.”

“Good,” He said, then slammed his lips to yours.

It shocked you but the feeling of having every part of your body pressed against his made you dizzy, and what was meant to force the creeper away, lasted much longer than the minute Henry promised. Many minutes longer. Enough minutes to give you the time to slide your hands up his chest until they settled on the back of his neck. Enough minutes to have him groaning when you softly nibbled on his bottom lip. Enough minutes to have your heart pounding.

You pulled back first when the embarrassment began to flood your body. Chuckling awkwardly, you stepped out of his arms, and said, “Um, thanks for the help…stranger,” then tried to disappear as fast as you could, for the first time thankful of the enormous crowd.

Henry:

She stiffened as his hand clasped around her wrist before she could get away, and when she turned to look at his face, she became no less tense. It made Henry feel uneasy. He liked her a little too much for how long he’d known her—which was nearly no time at all--and when he kissed her with everything he had, he thought it might’ve been enough to get her to stick around, at least for an extra minute or two.

He wasn’t arrogant. Yes, he’d had women tell him he was a good kisser, but he didn’t assume one kiss from him would have her falling on her knees, begging him to take her home. Henry just thought she felt something too. Perhaps more than one should from a stranger’s kiss, but enough of something to make her pause and question why it felt so damn good, just as he had for the millisecond before she bolted. It had him unwilling to give up so soon.

“Now where are you going?” Henry said, trying to hide the twinge of desperation in his voice.

“Sorry, I—”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

She blinked with her big, butterfly-wing-like lashes as if she hadn’t expected him to care. “…Y/N.”

“Ok, well, Y/N, I think that guy got the hint. You don’t have to keep running.”

“You never know.” She shrugged and anxiously bit the inside of her cheek.

“Right then, how about we leave?”

“What?”

“Do you like coffee?”

“…Sometimes,” One corner of her lips hesitantly turned upward. “Not usually at twelve thirty in the morning.”

Henry grinned as his thumb ran back and forth along the inside of her wrist. “Well, decaf is a thing, and I happen to know a place not far from here that’s open for another hour.”

Y/N:

You didn’t know how you managed to be pinned against one of his hotel room walls, but you were. You weren’t drunk from the little alcohol you’d had at the party, and the coffee certainly wasn’t spiked, but you still couldn’t explain how you were now moaning from the feel of Henry’s lips attached to your neck. Not that you were complaining.

“Goddamn,” He groaned against the skin of your collarbone as his fingers bunched the glittery fabric of your gown up until his hand could slip underneath. As it glided up your thigh, his palm left burns from its trail, and your skin grew hotter with each inch he made closer to your core. “You’re like an angel.”

You let out a throaty chuckle. “Hardly.”

Henry lifted his head and his hazy blue eyes met yours. “Hardly, huh?” He said as his index finger ran along the edge of your panties. He could’ve easily tucked a finger under that useless barrier and felt how wet you were.

“Yes,” You smirked, reaching your hand forward and undoing the buckle of his belt. “Hardly.”

Then you lowered to your knees.

Henry:

Henry didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that she was gone. He’d woken up a few times throughout the night, only to fall right back into peaceful sleep when he felt her warm body tucked into him. Each time, he tightened his arm firmly around her waist as she emitted little soft snores. But now, without the weight of her body next to his, Henry felt cold. Only the empty dip in the mattress where she’d laid for hours remained.

Her warmth was gone. She was gone.

And it stung a lot more than it should. He didn’t even know her last name or her age or, hell, anything about her. He knew he shouldn’t be as upset as he was, but he wanted to learn those things. To get to know her. Coffee the night before gave little insight to who she really was. That time was spent throwing flirtatious jokes back and forth, and if he’d have known she wouldn’t have given him the next morning to ask the important things, he’d have slowed himself down.

Fisting his fingers into his hair, Henry groaned at more than just the glaring sunlight streaming through the windows giving him a ripe headache. He shouldn’t be hung up on someone he barely knew. It wasn’t healthy.

Y/N:

God, you hoped you weren’t overstepping your bounds, or worse, being that girl who hangs around after a one-night stand long after the guy wants you to. You just…didn’t want to leave. He surprised you with his sincerity. He seemed to like you, though you didn’t know why, but you liked him, and, for once, you were willing to take the risk of sticking around for the morning after. It could be awkward. It could crash and burn. But if you weren’t going to be brave enough to see how the rest of the day could unfold, you knew you would regret it.

But, staying or not, it didn’t mean you weren’t going to hop down to the hotel lobby as soon as you woke to get your coffee fill. And based on what you saw last night, Henry liked his coffee rich and black.

Henry:

Who was he trying to fool? This was absolutely going to ruin his day. They’d had a rare chemistry that made him feel like he’d known her forever, and the sex certainly didn’t suck. Not even close.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Henry sat up and rubbed his face with both hands. If she wasn’t going to be there, he might as well get dressed and go about his day. At least, that’s what he thought, until he heard the door lock click and the handle turn.

His head shot to the sound, and he was almost stunned when he saw her walk in, shakily balancing two cups of coffee, a danish, and a muffin in her arms. She jumped when she saw him looking at her, still impressively holding on to the breakfast.

“H-Hi,” She said. And, damn, Henry liked that voice.

“Hi,” He smiled back, and at the gesture he could see her shoulders relax.

He stood and walked towards her, neglecting his boxers entirely, just thrilled she hadn’t disappeared forever. She looked down and blushed, then averted her eyes as he began to unload the food from her arms, and one-by-one placed the items on the table. When she still hadn’t looked back at him, he chuckled and tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up until she was forced to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be shy on me now.”

He ran his hands down her arms and grabbed both of her hands in his when she sighed and said “Sorry, I’m not…” She took a breath,” I don’t usually do this.”

“Hook up with strangers?”

“No, stick around the morning after. I kind of assume I’m not wanted, so—”

“You’re wanted here. Believe me,” Henry said fast, because those thoughts were the last he wanted on her mind.

She gaped, but then grinned wide and bright. “Really?”

“Definitely,” He said. “I want to know you.”

Y/N:

He wants to know you. Those words made your stomach flip. Though you took the risk to not sneak out at the break of dawn, you figured the odds of him not shuffling you out the door were unlikely to be in your favor. But you weren’t complaining about being wrong.

You grew embarrassed when you realized that dopey smile was still on your face, so you quickly wiped it off then grabbed the muffin and offered it to him. One corner of his lips quirked in unison with an eyebrow, and he gently took the offering from your hand.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling the paper down to take a bite.

“So, um…if we want to get to know one another, what do you want to do?”

Henry only smirked and said “Well…I’ve got some ideas.” He took another bite then licked the remaining crumbs off his lips, which was somehow more distracting than the fact that he was completely naked. “Half of them don’t involve clothes, though.”

[buckyownsmylife]

sunlight sunset - andy barber smut

The one where Andy throws you a baby shower and you thank him after.

Warnings: smut (p in v), masturbation (f), dirty talk, probably a little bit of daddy kink, pregnancy, the misconstruct of gender that I tried to avoid by referring to biological sex only, curse words, dirty talk

A/N: this was requested by 🤰 anon and it turned out to be much fluffier than any smut I’d ever written previously. Also, I ended up changing the idea of the reader’s “thank you”, I don’t really know why,  but I just figured Andy would be in really soft mindset after a baby shower 🤷‍♀️ Also, this is sort of a part two to this fic

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Shh, everyone! I think I hear her!” All around me, the sound of conversation suddenly dulled, people trying to make themselves smaller to fit behind furniture or walls and I had to cough to hide a laugh, but truly, it was just sweet. There weren’t many people in my apartment, Y/N didn’t have a lot of friends she cared enough to let them be a part of her pregnancy, and I still hadn’t managed to get her father to accept the idea of his baby girl having a baby, but at least her mom was here and Jacob was too.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” My son asked me, fingers absentmindedly playing with a blue balloon while his eyes remained trained on the door, waiting for her to burst through. I knew he was hoping for a little boy, someone he could help shape and not worry about, but I was rooting for a baby girl despite not having the guts to admit it to my girlfriend. I could just perfectly see it, me and her, raising this little version of her together, and she’d be loud and opinionated and the best parts of both of us and I just loved her already. 

I knew it was a girl. I just knew it. I felt it deep in my gut, every night when I talked to Y/N’s still barely-there belly. But I let her and Jacob believe it was a boy. That was just something I kept to myself and my unborn child, the secret that would come out tonight.

“I sure hope so,” I muttered, trying to look unworried but probably failing. It’s just, Y/N had been having such a hard time lately, between telling her parents about the pregnancy, moving in with me, telling Jacob and her friends and it was just a whirlwind of emotions for us both, but of course, it hit her harder than me. She was the one dealing with the body changes and the misconceptions that people had about the nature of our relationship. I just wanted this one experience to show her how this pregnancy wasn’t all stress and tears.

But of course, I should have known better.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted when the door opened, a surprised Y/N covering her mouth as she took in the balloons, her friends, the cake and me. And then, as if on cue, she burst into tears.

I shouldn’t have expected any different, really. After the first initial shock wore off, I found myself chuckling as I beckoned my sobbing girlfriend into my arms, delighted to have her warm body to squeeze again.

“Baby, don’t cry… This is supposed to be a nice thing!” It only made her cry harder, clutching at my shirt as I couldn’t control my amusement, trying to get her to separate from me just enough so I could cradle her face.

“It is nice! It’s so nice… I don’t deserve you, Andy.” The thought was so absurd to me that a fucking snort came out as I grazed her cheekbones with my thumbs. God, she was beautiful. And mine. All mine.

“Oh, please, sweetheart. If anything, I’m the one who’s unworthy of you.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The utter stupidity of the statement had me gasping, and then promptly slapping one of the arms with which he was holding me. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re too intelligent for that.” That earned me one of those hearty laughters that started from the depths of his chest and that warmed me to my very core, leaving my face burning. God, how I loved this man. And how I loved to be the reason for his laughter.

“C’mon, princess. Let’s open that envelope. I’m dying to know what we’re expecting.” Oh, right. As if on cue, my hands started sweating and my heartbeat picked up, the anxiety about knowing our child’s biological sex finally hitting. I was hoping for a boy, but I knew he wanted a girl. As much as he tried to hide it, I could just read right through his expectant face.

With shaky hands, I reached into my purse and pulled out the little red envelope that the doctor had given me. At first, I thought it was weird that Andy had decided to skip this one appointment, since he was so enthusiastic about being a part of everything, but now, as I stared at the balloon and the familiar faces of my friends, it made sense.

“Can I open it?” He asked, almost too quietly, large palm turned up as he waited for my reaction. I didn’t need to think about it, immediately dropping the paper in his hand, almost laughing at how ridiculously small it looked with him holding it. “Here we go.”

I knew all around us, everyone was waiting to hear the single word contained in that note, excitement barely concealed as the air around us felt electrified with it. But I couldn’t even care. At the most, I noticed my mom and Jacob holding hands not that far from where I stood with Andy, and the image made me smile right as my boyfriend’s face lit up like a christmas tree when he processed the doctor’s ruling.

“A girl. It’s a girl. We’re having a girl!” He darted into my arms and behind me, I felt as someone else - most likely Jacob - hugged me too. They were followed by each and every person in the room, until there was no one else to congratulate me on the news. We ate cake, talked and then, one by one, everyone left, and it was only Andy and me.

When I turned to look at him, after seeing the last visitor out, it was only to find his darkened, lust-filled eyes staring right at me as he sized me up, his hands in his pockets and the sweetest cockiest smirk on his lips.

“Come here, baby.” There was no hesitation, I didn’t even think before I moved in his direction. As I approached, he sat on the couch behind him, hands beckoning me closer and closer, until I was just close enough that he could easily pull me to straddle his legs.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered as he nuzzled his bearded face against my neck, tickling me while making my pussy throb at the same time. A shiver of pure desire ran up my spine, right as I started to unconsciously grind my crotch over his, already desperate for a release.

“I-I’m thinking…” I tried, only to stop in a gasp as Andy suddenly seized my waist, forcing my movements to gather some speed. The friction was nothing like what I truly wanted, but it was just enough to make me whimper for my boyfriend’s wonderful touch.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” I urged, knowing that I was teasing her and knowing that she knew, especially since I couldn’t keep the smirk off of my face. “If you tell me what you want, I might give it to you.”

It was an offer she couldn’t resist, I knew even before I whispered it in her ear, but as I kept stimulating her body and she didn’t find a way to stop me, instead of finally confessing what was going through her mind, what I got was an exasperated, “Stop doing that! I don’t wanna cum yet!”

It made me laugh and decide that I definitely wouldn’t be stopping any time soon, so I opted to suck on one of her earlobes, appreciating the little shiver that she tried to hide before asking, “Why not?”

She hesitated for a second, but I couldn’t tell if it was because she wanted to hide it or if she simply still couldn’t gather her thoughts enough to voice them, although the way her fingers were buried in my shoulders made me think the last option was more probable. At last, she admitted right right before throwing her head back and whining, “Because I want to be the one pleasing you.”

She was heaving now, delicious breasts bouncing before me and just begging to have my mouth wrapped around one nipple, but her confession felt so silly I ended up laughing and capturing one of them between my fingers, instead.

“Can’t you feel what seeing you like this does to me?” I asked, making sure to raise my hips so there was no denying the hard line of my cock against her cunt. “I’m sorry you don’t feel like cumming, princess, because that’s exactly what you’re going to do. So just relax and accept it.”

It didn’t take long for her to cum after that, and I took in every beautiful second of the perfect image as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her hips seemed to take a rhythm of their own.

“That’s my girl,” I cooed softly as I watched her slowly come back to me, eyes blinking lazily to look up at me from under her eyelashes with an expression that was simply sinful. “Can you open this for me, baby girl?” I asked as my hands remained occupied with holding her up, gesturing towards my own crotch, but it felt unnecessary when her hands immediately flew down to rub the boner I’d been sporting for quite a while.

“Yes, princess. Can you get my cock out, please? I really need to be inside of you now,” I confessed, nose rubbing over the soft skin of her neck as her small hands expertly unzipped my pants and I raised my hips up just enough so she could wrap her fist around my member and pull it from its confines.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Nothing felt quite as good as having my hand wrapped around Andy’s cock, knowing it would be inside of me, making me whole in just a few seconds. And knowing that he was giving me the control to grab it and put it in me myself just had me excited like nothing else.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” I noted, raising myself just enough to rub the head of his member against my lower lips. The action had him grunting before groaning in frustration, grip in my ass tightening in a sort of warning.

“No, I figured it’d be easier this way. Didn’t anticipate you being such a tease, though.” The grumpy tone of his voice made me giggle, and I slowly lowered myself down on his hard cock, moaning out loud and holding my own breasts as he hissed to the feeling of my pussy squeezing him.

“You feel so fucking good.” Just the hoarseness of his voice had me whining, even before he used the grip on my ass to make me start riding him. “You make me feel so good, baby girl. No one can make me feel as good as you do.”

Only this man could have me simultaneously melting from his sweetness while cumming on his dick while he pounded me from the bottom. “I wish I could keep you right here, sweetheart. Right here, sitting on my dick, all day, everyday.”

I saw the way his eyes never left my bouncing breasts, and when he licked his lips with an expression of pure hunger, I came, knowing I was bringing him with me when he let out a high-pitched moan and picked up his pace.

“Fuck, I’m yours, princess. I’m yours. Thank you for giving me our little family. I love you.” Grabbing his hand to give a kiss to his knuckles, I took a second to appreciate just how incredible this man was. Despite how hard this could be, I knew I’d never regret having him beside me.

[itstheimpossibledream]

It’s Only A Play -Part 3

Word Count:3244

Pairing : AU Henry Cavill x FemBlack!Reader

Summary: We love a good slow burn. SMUT

The bag crackled in his large hands. You found yourself wondering why he even bothered delicately tearing the wrapping, when he could easily smash both the wrapper and cookie open in one fist. The fortune seemed so small in his hands.He held the paper back a bit further than you would have expected and you realized he was probably one of those people who needed glasses but refused to get them.He cleared his throat again."It says 'The art of living is taking the biggest chance.'"

"In bed." you said quickly

"What?!" his eyebrows flew up in shock but,he laughed to keep from appearing to hopeful.

"It's an American thing. You read a fortune cookie and at the end you add in bed. It makes every fortune cookie funnier, I promise."you said not breaking eye contact. He threw his head back and laughed even harder. It was a childish trick but, something about it tickled him so much he hardly noticed when his hat fell off of his head and onto Kal who had been peacefully sleeping in the slice of floor behind Henry's chair. His baritone chuckles echo through the apartment and you’re amazed that neighbors didn't even cross his mind as a concern in this place.Realistically he probably wasn’t even home enough to get a noise complaint. His laughing had lessened and you could feel him watching you. You knew people who had embarrassingly nice apartments but, nothing like this. This was just lavishly ridiculous.

"It gets lonely being here alone." He said evenly,reading your mind. "Family doesn't visit much and keeping friends with a schedule like mine is just..."

"Not easy ." you finished for him.You could feel his eyes boring into you carving out a space in your heart for him and you try to will yourself to stop. You both sat comfortable on the silence for a while, momentarily mutually mourning the lifestyle you lost to live your dream.

"Okay read yours!" Henry gestured to you cookie. You smashed it to bits,gingerly pulling out the paper fortune. You sat up tall clearing your throat trying to figure out if this fortune would be equally funny or if your childish trick had run it's course.

"You Are very talented in many ways in bed." You say bursting out laughing as he doubled over again.

"Come on! How come I couldn't have gotten that one" he jokes shrugging his shoulders.

" Just wasn't your fortune."you tease winking at him and getting up from the table.Okay so you were flirting with him,definitely flirting with him. But a highschool showmance was so unlike you. You knew the golden rule was to never go for your co-stars and yet here you were winking and shit. Maybe he'd ignore it , he really knew nothing about you outside of your work.

"So what made you like this story? When you got the script when did know you had to do it ?" He had moved from the table, his eyes shown brightly as he recovered his hat from the floor on his way. At the end of dinner you assumed it would be normal to grab your jacket and go back to your room.It's not like he had really planned for you to be over, and you weren't even friends so staying up this late with him to gossip wasn’t exactly in the cards. You had already learned so much more about him than you had expected to. He expertly moved to the kitchen,uncorked a bottle of wine he had chilling in the refrigerator and returned to the couch handing one of the glasses to you. So, now you were staying, I mean it’d be rude to turn down wine.

"Uhhhhh- well I think the relationship is relatable, it's real. It's not about these two perfect people but, it's about this perfect love they have... ya know?" You whirl yourself onto the seat on the couch next to him."To imagine what they were going through as a couple I mean- it must have made everything harder, these characters are from completely different worlds and they still choose each other in their own way. " He nods next to you , this was new. Geeking out with him about work wasn't what you expected but, you were actually enjoying it.

"So let me ask you something?"he pushes leaning in , He wrings his hands together and you’re distracted by the veiny passageways that mark down from his forearms."When do you think it would actually be necessary for them to have a sex scene?"he asks timidly.

"Right!" you exclaim! "I love Stephen but the way he directs it makes it feel so clunky !"you emphasize with your hands and he chuckles saying "Okay I'm so glad you noticed it too- like who has sex like this robots?"

"You know his partners have to be weird." you laugh , noticing how pointy his canines are. God, he looks like one of those twilight vampires, his stupid skin probably did shine in actual sunlight Not that New York would get any though,you acknowledge while making a mental note , not to drink to much of the wine that was clearly causing you to get distracted. You finish your glass and set it on the coffee table.

"Yeah I don't know i just think it's an unconventional love story and we need more of those." you smile , sheepishly meeting his eyes , going back to the topic of the show. His lower lip juts up as he nods,in agreement.

"Soooooo what's next?"you pop up, moving to his kitchen opening random cabinets, trying to find his liquor stash. You come across the empty bottle, of what must have been the wine you just drank and turn to him in the living room with a fake pout. It wasn’t that you were bored, or even that you didn’t want to spend time with him sober ;as much as it was that you desperately needed to cling to the idea that he wasn’t a good man for you.

"O. you can smoke out on the terrace if you want, and I don't have any more drinks here but,I can call down to the frontdesk to run and get you something.” Your eyes rolled so hard they almost fell out of your head.

"Of Course you have a front desk."you chortled to yourself.

"Hey, this is the flat the show is paying to keep me in not my own." he pointed at you in mock sternness

"No I'm okay. I don't smoke and drink all the time " you chided at him,he probably didn't really think that. He was just trying to drum up some conversation.

"and here I thought you were a real New Yorker." he jokes breaking into a toothy grin.

" I'm from a very small town-" you divulged with a sigh"definitely not New York.”

"Yeah- there's not many people from where I grew up around here either." he said plainly , moving to take off his rehearsal sneakers, for what was probably the first time since you had gotten to his place.

"You miss it a lot huh?" you ask

"I mean I go back often but, it's just much nicer to not have camera's up your ass all the time."he huffs, moving to the second set of laces.

"Ahh that good old Hollywood fame." you joke, with a sigh. He just smiles at you, beaming embarrassingly knowing he can never seem to say the right thing around you. For some reason busting his balls was somehow so much better than admitting to a feeling that you were becoming increasingly aware of,you wanted him.

"I'm not like a smoker smoker" you say, slicing through the silence "I picked it up from my ex and it just kinda stuck." you admit with a flippant gesture of your hand." But, only when I'm nervous or something."you felt the need to clarify.

"And why would you be nervous?"He smirked, pushing his shoes under the decoratively simplistic coffee table across from him and sliding down the front of the couch to sit on the floor. His thighs seemed abnormally large as he spread his legs out and started stretching. This time it was your turn to look away from him.You peeled your eyes,just as quick as he had before your shower. The confidence that radiated from him was absolutely maddening. You couldn't understand how any man could be so aware of their looks and yet still come off as slightly shy.

"I'm always nervous the first days of rehearsal.The new schedule, the new people, it's all just overwhelming at times." you divulged honestly. He pulled a knee into his chest heaving a sigh as you continued. "I wish I never started smoking though." you circled back.

"Do you wish you never met him too?"Henry asked, inquisitively peering up from under his hat as he switched knees. You exhaled slowly,fighting for the right way to answer that question.

"Sometimes yes" you nodded. "When I first moved to New York it was really tough, I felt really lonely too." you allowed your voice to trail into a whisper. There is a silence and then you can feel his eyes on you, your cheeks burning red-hot and the more you avoid looking at him the stronger the urge is.

"So that's why you're single." it was brutal but, you weren't upset.Long ago you had come to a similar realization about yourself. Plus, european’s had a way of sounding rude while simply stating facts, it’s part of what makes them so trendy.

"You've allowed life to make you become tough and jaded so you just don't date?Is that it?" he perked an eyebrow in your direction while removing his baseball cap.While you took no offense to his comment, that didn't stop you from hating it.

"Why do you care?" you asked immediately, choosing the defensive instead of going deeper and chasing him down the rabbit hole of honesty.

"See what is that?" he questioned.It was clear he was not going to be letting this go anytime soon.

"I'm trying to do the assignment. I'm trying to get to know you and you push me away."

"Don't be ridiculous."you roll your eyes toward him once again."I'm not pushing you away I just have boundaries and things I don’t want to discuss with you."

You push up from the couch and head in the direction of your room. It was not within his right to pry about your personal relationships,and truly there was nothing more to discuss. Plus, you knew if you stayed close to him a moment longer, you would give into his eyes and the beautiful vanes bulging in his large hand.

"Why?" he asked jumping to his feet,his agility momentarily shocking you as you turn to leave.

"Because I don't want to ! Because you're not-"

"Not what?" he pushes" I've been working around you and this thing between us and I don't why you can be blunt about everything else except this !" He got dangerously close to raising his voice and it stirred the butterflies in your stomach. Something about him being so stern with you set your sex drive ablaze. You could feel yourself biting down hard on your bottom lip and the more you refused to break eye contact with him the more fired up you became. You could see the honesty behind his eyes, he was trying with you, he was proving himself every step of the way and you hated how much you loved it.

"Fine. What is it? What's the THIS?" you ask sarcastically, staring directly at him. His face looked blank and you wondered for a moment if you had asked the right thing. He grabs your hand,falling back onto the couch and pulling you onto the couch on top of him.You quickly realize you are able to put yourself in a position where you can straddle him as he grabs your face, pulling you down to kiss him. You kiss him back slowly , taking time to explore with your tongue. You can feel his hand tangled in your hair at the back of your head and it does something wild to you. You grind down into him and you hear a slight moan escape his mouth.

You bite down suddenly on his bottom lip before coming up for air and he simply can't take it anymore. He wraps his arms around your legs and lifts you up by the bottom of your thighs, carrying you into the bedroom. You feel ridiculously delicate in his arms as he carries you. You break from the kiss momentarily, to make sure your head is ducking all the way under the doorframe as he holds you,smiling into your kiss.

You pull your own shirt off, letting it hit the floor with a loud 'thwack'. The noise momentarily wakes you out of your horny haze. As he lays you on the bed,you bring your forearm up to cover your eyes, in the vaguest attempt of shielding yourself from your own embarrassment. He pulls your pants off and while unsure ,you don't protest as he gingerly splays your legs open for him to see the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

"O you're so wet for me now."he smiles from ear to ear as you peek through your hand just enough to see his perfectly chiseled chest and you shut your eyes again wondering if this could be real, if he's real.

" We're not done ."he smirks, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you towards him. He then gracefully flips you over onto your hands and knees facing away from him.He pulls your panties down and drags his large fingers over your wet slit and you arch your back at his touch. He settles one hand on your hip as he uses the other hand to work himself into you.You had imagined he was big, but when you feel his head poking into you, you knew your fantasies could never compare to the reality. He uses the hand on your hip to slowly pull you further onto him until you are taking in his whole length. Moving painstakingly slowly, in and out of you. You hear him moaning above you and then he whispers "Fuck” in that stupid accent before snapping his hips into you and pushing you forward. He uses his other hand to prop you up because he knows he's pushing way to hard for someone of your size. Slamming into your pretty little cunt over and over again. You let out his name and you allow plea after plea for him to let you cum. He pounds into you grabbing your hair and pulling your face up to meet his.After a few more thrusts he finally graces you with a reply.

"No." he says and then pulls out of you. Your body immediately feels drained, completely and utterly fucked out and somehow all you want is more. You hold the position for a minute breathing into the lack of movement when you look back to see Henry watching you. Working himself in his large hand, the veins in his arms bulging and a slight bead of sweat beginning to work it's way onto his forehead.

"Turn over" he commands, and as much as you want to move quickly your legs feel like jelly,the smile line at the corner of his mouth fades as he walks towards you and flips you over himself. He positions himself above you again and says "I want to see that pretty face you make when you cum." he smiles down at you sweetly. Pushing in between your hot folds again and the noise you make is downright pornographic. You know it , he knows it and only fuels the fire behind his thrusts . He reaches for your neck again, giving you a pale necklace of fingers and veins that contrasts with your skin . With his other hand you feel him grab at your hand and interlace your fingers with his, above your head. Your eyes fly open and he is looking directly at you, smiling a bit and you can tell he is taking you in. Revelling in all the tiny noises and ways your body responds to his. You can feel his pace quicken as his moans increase, it almost feels as though the longer you look at him the harder he fucks into you, challenging you, seeing if you can handle him. His curls begin to dampen and stick to his forehead, you watch while he looks down on you. He momentarily breaks having his hand at your throat to bring his own pointer to his mouth. You watch as he lighlty bites down on it while letting out a moan.It's almost as if he's trying to keep himself quiet, or burn this view into his brain, but he's to turned on to focus. He fucks into you harder and harder, you can't take it, seeing his teeth around his own finger made you absolutely feral. You cried out his name immediately and before you could realize what was happening you felt your walls tightening again under him. Your legs shook as waves of pleasure washed over you and you could feel yourself clamping down on him. He fucked you through the orgasm, and when it seemed as though you had recovered, he climbed up your body, forcing his cock down your throat, and came instantly. He shudders and makes deep grunts on top of you. You can't help but gag a little on his length as you try to take in the art that is his unclothed body. He hears you struggling for breath and immediately pulls himself out of you. He holds a thumb at the bottom of your chin and watches as you swallow every drop of him. When you're done you look up at him, giving him your best attempt at doe eyes and he turns your chin up for him to kiss you . Fuck. Fuck. you were not supposed to fuck your coworker.Especially not this coworker, you barely even liked him. After a few moments of making out the contact fizzled and eventually he was just laying next to you, breathing heavily.

"It's purely physical." you sighed, watching the small curly hairs on his pecs as his chest heaved.

"Is it?" he began laughing. His smile shone bright in the dimness of the room. He turns to face you, leaning in for a kiss again and you're to weak to deny him.

"Dammit." he whispers between your lips. You grab the back of his head pulling him closer to you, your mind to blissed out and high for you to think.He kisses you hard and then pulls back. He hops off the bed, chest heaving as he uses his forearm to wipe away the sweat. You sleepily roll over to face where he's going. Some minutes pass and before you know it your overly fucked body is begging for rest.You drift of to sleep feeling euphoria in the big bed.

[husbandograveyard]

Chapter I - The Seed

Chapter Summary: Sometimes love happens spontaneously. Sometimes it needs some time to grow. Yours has been growing for a while now. 

Chapter warnings: mentions of child neglect (vaguely), slight manga spoilers (if you squint) 

Word count: 1.7k 

Next chapter | Series masterlist - Click 

Love is very much like a flower. The seed can be planted very early on, and may need some time to grow. And without love, sunlight and patience, a flower may never bloom. The seed of your love was planted when you were only a child. 

You weren’t really sure when exactly you saw him for the first time, but you knew he captured your attention right away. You were walking to the store, your very first ‘grown up’ chore. Your mom would give you a little piece of paper with the groceries on it, and let you go get it at the convenience store right next to the apartment where you were living. She’d call the store beforehand to let them know you were coming, and never really worried because nothing could happen within that very short distance. And she was right, nothing ever really happened, and it became your favorite chore. Not necessarily because of the chore itself, but because of the little boy that you would sometimes meet on your way. 

He was quiet, usually standing in the hallway, hanging around the same apartment. Your young brain figured out he lived there, but you weren’t sure why he wasn’t always inside his house. You never saw his parents. He captured your attention, because he seemed… off a little. You couldn’t put your finger on it, not at that age, not with you sheltered you had been so far. You knew of heroes and villains but you didn’t know of all the actual evils in the world. You did not know what he was going through. 

But you did know that he looked nice, at least in your innocent-minded eyes. And he looked special, with a sharp gaze that seemed directed nowhere in particular and the beautiful wings poking up from behind his back. You wondered if they were soft. 

So one day you asked. Well, it had started with you saying ‘Hi’ every time you saw him in the hallway. And eventually, you’d get a ‘Hi’ back every once in a while. You told him your name, he told you his. Sometimes you would say something about what he was wearing, although usually his clothes were pretty plain and not always as pretty or even clean. His wings however, those always looked nice, bright red and sometimes even a little fluffy, that’s when they looked to be at their softest.

Most of the times when you shouted ‘I like your wings’, you didn’t get much of a reply, usually he just briefly redirected his stare at you before looking away again. But you were still young, full of hope and full of resilience that nowadays you wish you still had as much of, and you kept repeating it until you heard him mutter a soft ‘thanks’ in reply. It wasn’t too long before you started walking toward him for the shortest of conversations, you knew that you couldn’t stay away too long or your mom would definitely call the grocery store. And eventually, you asked him to touch his wings. He would always refuse, and you would never give up. 

One day he said yes, and it’s the day you remember most vividly. You were almost racing to the store by now whenever you saw that he was out, just so you could talk to him, always keeping an eye on the kiddie wristwatch your mom had given you. “When the big hand points upwards completely, you have to be home or I’ll come looking for you”, she’d say. You had gotten better at keeping an eye on it. You went through the usual ritual, saying hi, getting a greeting back. He seemed to be a little happier to see you lately though, smiling a little whenever he saw you approaching. 

“Your wings look fluffy today, can I pet them?” 

“Okay, but be careful” 

You gasped, and your eyes grew wide with excitement. “Really?”

He just nodded in response, turning a little sideways so you could easily reach out and pet the feathers. They were not as soft as you had hoped, not like the plushies surrounding you in bed every night, but they were soft nonetheless. An interesting kind of soft, like only a feather could have. You were absolutely mesmerized and he seemed to be happy that you were happy. 

“Next time I will show you my hero” 

You smiled as you ran upstairs with the groceries, just in time to not worry your mom. You were super giddy the next time she asked you to get groceries, but your friend was nowhere to be seen. That in itself wasn’t that unusual, there were multiple times when you didn’t see him, but you were quite disappointed, especially since you felt you really were making friends with him now. 

You blinked in confusion, but there was no time for you to ask for an explanation, as you noticed the longer hand of your clock almost pointing to the top of your watch.

“Okay! Promise?”

“Promise!” 

The next time you went, he wasn’t there either. Nor was he the next time, or the time after that. You were slowly getting a little worried and sad. But as it goes so often in a little child’s mind, there were only so many things you could worry about and you nearly forgot about the boy with the wings.

Until you saw him on TV. 

It was years later, you were training at U.A. making it into the hero course, developing your quirk to do good for this world. Part of your training was also keeping an eye out for all the heroes and their ranks. No matter how much you wanted this world to be fair and easy, there’s only so much you can do by simply being a good hero. The rankings were a whole other thing that came as a nasty side effect of wanting to make it in a world where just being good and strong wasn’t enough to be a hero. You had to stand out in some way. 

News of a newcomer not from U.A. spread so fast, especially since he was rising up in the rankings at an unseen pace, especially for his age, making him the youngest hero so high up. He was incredibly popular: campaign ads, interviews, magazines… Not surprisingly so, he was not only a talented hero, he was very handsome to boot, with hoards of fans already collecting merch as if their lives depended on it.

To the whole world, he was known as pro hero number three, only behind Endeavor and the one and only All Might, Wing Hero Hawks. But to you, he was the little boy from the hallway that once was ever present in your mind, one of your first friends that you lost before the friendship could even be properly cultivated. And now that his image was hard to avoid, his presence was back in your thoughts, more pertinacious than before. 

You were drawn to him the same way many of his fans were, but besides awe and admiration, there was another feeling present whenever you heard his name or saw another picture appear on the billboards you passed on your way to school. It was small still, this feeling, and unidentifiable, at least for now. All you knew was that there was an additional motivational fire burning within you now. You were certain you wanted to intern under him, you wanted some way to be able to talk to him. Just a few moments, to see if he would remember. Just a few moments, to maybe be able to put a finger on what you were feeling, maybe it was a desire for closure. You realized these were all superficial and stupid reasons, but as long as it got you training to intern at the number three’s agency, there was really nothing lost. 

Realistically speaking, you knew the chances were small he’d take you on. There weren’t even that many sidekicks at his agency, and you were pretty sure he’d need someone to keep up with him, which was nearly impossible seeing as he maxed out in almost all possible fields. He was the number three for a reason after all. 

You had a tactic though. Half of the plan being very obvious: train until you couldn’t anymore. Get high grades, develop your quirk, max out your physical strength, study evacuation techniques, be an overall great student. You had to make sure your potential was spotted by many heroes on occasions such as the sports festival. You had to make sure your teachers noticed you. 

The other half of your plan was working on getting his interest. Wear his merch around whenever there’s a U.A. moment broadcast that didn’t require you to wear your uniform, learn all there is to learn about him and his agency (a surprisingly easy task, as there was very little known about him actually). And then finally: work on advertising yourself. You wrote multiple letters to his agency, none of them demanding or desperate in tone, but continuously offering yourself as a valuable candidate for internships and training days, even when you would get no replies at all.

It took you until your last year at UA to finally get some sort of an answer. By that time, you had already sent so many letters, that at this point, you weren’t even expecting anything anymore, but it was more of a habit. A promise to yourself that you would try, at least until you had graduated and found another agency to work at. So when professor Aizawa pulled you aside at the start of your year to tell you that all your internships and training days were already secured in Hawks’ agency if you’d agree on it, you over-enthusiastically said yes about three hundred times. Aizawa passed on the information you needed, and you thanked him profusely before heading to your next class, the map of information nearly burning up in your hand. 

One step closer to the boy in the hallway. One step closer to your hero dream. No matter the outcome, you could only win.

Tag list: @pinkhatlizzy​ @franko-pop-3000​ @silenceofthecookies​

[bnha-butterfly]

Synopsis: Sakusa could never have imagined he would die like this, and he definitely didn’t know he would love like this either

Warnings: this story includes graphic depictions of drowning, major character death (technically but not really)

W.C: 1.9k+ words

A/N: based off of this post that I made a while back and the fact that I really want to play dungeons and dragons. Also I really wanted to write that drowning scene and I spent three days on it.

This was beta read by @ramelanin Who is easily one of my favorite writers on this platform. Ramen I love you. Mwah <3

Sakusa struggles as he is pulled from the berth of the ship for the first time in weeks. The air is so salty he can taste it. It’s smell is strong, it's almost nauseating but he’d prefer the salty smell and taste of ocean air then the stagnant air of the sleeping quarters he’s been kept in since he’s been forced on the ship. His hands are bound tightly in heavy metal cuffs and the skin around them is an angry red color. Rubbed raw from how long they’ve been on him.

It happens quickly. Almost so quick that he doesn't realize what’s happening until he is falling several feet from the deck of the ship to the churning waves of the ocean below. His skin is bathed in warmth as he plummets. His screams muffled by the tape placed over his mouth, and for a second he wonders if this is what Icurus felt like when he fell. The warmth of the sun was soon replaced with the icy cold feeling of the waves encompassing his body. He tries to stay calm. Knows that if he panics he will drown that much quicker. So he tries to hold his breath. Kicks his legs in some futile attempt to swim or at least break the surface of the water.

His mass of curls float upwards as he continues to sink. The sea water stings his eyes but there is a dull pain in his chest that is so much worse. 

Don't panic. Don’t Panic.

 He repeats the words like a mantra in his head. But how can he not panic when he knows this is how he will die. His chest burns a searing white as he tries to focus on anything else. He lists off anything he can think of in an attempt to avoid the way his chest feels. It’s just so hard to do that with the way his lungs cry out for oxygen. Aching for something he cannot have. 

Don’t panic. Don’t Panic.

 The sun's rays twinkle down at him, tinted blue from the water and filtered through the floating strands of his hair.

 Don’t Panic. Don’t Panic.

 At this point his body is holding his breath on autopilot. The flame in his chest grows hotter and hotter the longer he lasts and he just wishes he could pass out from the pain. His body gives up. The need for air is so fierce that his body just relaxes. His shoulders drop, there is no more flailing or kicking or anything. 

Don’t Panic. Don't Panic. Don’t pani-

 Panic.

Panic because there is  salty ocean water that he can feel fill the back of his throat. This is how he will die. He tries to sputter out whatever is there but it is no use. Not with the tape over his mouth. His vision warps, and the edges of it turn dark. So with his face turned up to the sky, sunlight twinkling through the water down past strands of his hair to him in a taunt, casting shadows over his face his vision goes black. 

Sakusa wonders if he is dead. He attempts to open his eyes but he can’t even tell if he  succeeds. His surroundings are dark and wet and cold.  His body still encompassed in water. He must be dead, and for a second he lets his mind wonder if his body will ever be recovered, or if he’ll just decompose slowly amongst the fish and crustaceans. His mind does not linger on those thoughts long as he feels a hand caress his cheek. It is warm and comforting and he cannot help but lean in to the touch. 

“It is such a shame to see such precious cargo tossed overboard.”

A voice chimes. He can't quite pinpoint what direction the voice is coming from and to his surprise it is not muffled or gargled by the water. Water. He is still surrounded by water….isn’t he? He must be, right? He can fee-. He can't feel anything. Not the cool water or his fingers flexing as he attempts to move them. All he can feel is the hand on his face. Don’t Panic, he finds him telling himself once again. 

The hand on his face retreats and he cannot help the way he instinctually moves his face to chase after the touch. Eliciting a chuckle from whoever or whatever it is that is talking to him. He can’t remember the last time he had felt a touch as soft and warm as that one. 

“Wouldn’t you like to get even with the people who did this to you?”

“Get even? You mean revenge?” Sakusa says and realizes that the tape is no longer over his mouth. He hears his own voice and just like the voice of whomever it is speaking he doesn't sound muffled or gargled by the water.

“Yes revenge. I mean…could you really be satisfied dying here?” 

Sakusa takes a second to think, and in that second he is reminded of the burning in his chest. The way his vision warped and dimmed. In that second he feels just how scared he was. The way realizing he was going to die made him feel helpless. He hated feeling helpless.

“I don’t want to die here” Is the only answer he can muster up, voice shaky. 

“Then open your eyes and take my hand”

Sakusa opens his eyes and is surprised when they are not met with an assault of salty ocean water. Instead standing in front of him eye to eye is the most ethereal person he has ever laid eyes on. Illuminated by what little sunlight reaches them.  Their hand stretched outwards between the two of them. He takes in his surroundings. Pitch black. It is almost like the two of them are standing within the void. The only light is the one that shines above them. He tilts his head up and the sun stares down at him, filtered through water. Twinkling down at him the same way that it did when he was drowning. He flexes his fingers and his toes. Stiff, but at least he can feel them again. 

He returns his attention to the person in front of him. Although, he isn’t sure if he can really call them a person. They are beautiful, yes. But, the sides of their face is speckled in scales reminiscent of a serpent and if he looks closely their eyes glow dimly. They wink at him and he is suddenly made aware of how hard he must have been staring at them.

“What will happen if I take your hand?” 

“You won’t die. You’ll get that revenge I can tell you crave.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“I mean what does that matter? You said you don’t want to die here and I’m offering you a way not to.”

He stares down at the hand.

 Just like that he’d be alive again. Just like that he could get even with the people who tried to kill him. So he takes a deep breath and shakes the outstretched hand. A bright yellow light emits from where both hands are latched together.

“You made the right decision” The voice says, and he doesn’t even have to see their face to know that there is a smile on it. He wonders what he just got himself into as the light from their joined hands dim. 

“What now?” He asks as he gazes back up into dimly glowing eyes. 

The person tilts their head, caresses his cheek. “Just one more thing and then you’ll never have to panic again.” The hand moves from his face to play with the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck. 

He goes to ask another question. But, as this person’s palm comes in contact with the untouched skin at the base of his neck he is met with a searing white heat at the point of contact. His eyes widen and he goes to pull their hand away but the grip on the base of his neck persists. 

“Don’t Panic.” They say. “Trust me.”

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to not panic when the burning persists. How is he supposed to trust someone he has only just met? 

“The sooner you relax the better it will feel.”

So he tries to relax. But, relaxing isn’t really possible when it feels like there is a piece of red hot metal being pressed into your skin. His vision warps and darkens and he passes out from the pain. 

When Sakusa comes to, he finds himself coughing up water. A side effect of drowning he supposes. He checks his surroundings, and is surprised to see he is in a humble looking room. A bed, a nightstand with an oil lamp and pack of matches next to it, and a mirror across the room close to the door. Sakusa gets off of the bed, pushing the sheets aside and goes to look at himself in the mirror. He feels pins and needles in his feet but ignores the sensation. 

He stands in front of the mirror. He looks okay for the most part. His hair is a mess and his eyes look as if he hasn't slept in a few days but that’s about it. He isn’t clad in the billowy white linen shirt and black trousers he died in. Instead, he stands in the mirror wearing a cream colored cotton shirt and brown trousers. His skin smells of salt and he could crave nothing more than a decent shower, or even a half-decent shower. He feels his stomach growl and sighs. Food. He’d need food first, then he could get a shower.

 He takes a second to attempt to straighten out his appearance. He runs his hand through his hair a few times, and as he does that one of his fingers graze a rather tender spot on his neck. He turns his head ever so slightly and gently brushes his hair out of the way to get a better look, and there on his neck clear as day is a deep red circle of what looks like brambles with four overlapping diamonds in the middle. He touches it cautiously as he inspects it. 

Just as he decides that the door to his room opens. He takes a cautionary step backwards and then he sees the same person from before. Just as ethereal and supernaturally beautiful as ever, although this time there are no serpentine scales adoring their face. No dimly glowing eyes and no long, pointed, sharp looking nails. 

“Good you're finally awake! I thought you would be out for an entire week” 

“You..you're the person from earlier”

“If by that you mean the person who kept you from dying then yes.”

“What did you do to me?”

“What is it with you and asking questions? We don’t have enough time to discuss all that. You’re probably hungry and there’s complimentary meal in the tavern downstairs if you’re stayin in the inn. So why don’t you stop asking questions and we get you some food instead?” 

As if his stomach knows he's going to disagree it makes a noise in agreement, and he isn’t left with much room to refuse. “Fine. But, when we’re done you’ll explain everything to me.”

“We'll see about that. You’d think you’d just be happy you're alive.” They say with a roll of their eyes. “Let’s just go get some food into you and see what this little fishing port has to offer.”

Just like that Sakusa finds himself being led downstairs hand in hand with a person he has only really just met. But, he doesn't panic and instead wonders what he has gotten himself into. 

[wallwriterstuff]

Thunderstorms ||Jasper Hale x Reader||

This one was requested by @deathaffection666 and after some umming and ahhing I finally came up with an idea. I hope you enjoy :)

Words: 2420 

Warnings: A little angsty near the start, implied PTSD, but it ends nice and fluffy. 

Summary: Jasper has never liked thunderstorms, they don’t bring anything good with them, so when the storms start raging in his head you hold him up to make sure he doesn’t drown in them. 

The Olympic Peninsula was said to be one of the wettest places in the continental US. Cold and grey, the sun was such a rarity that it sent humans flocking into green spaces, hands outstretched as if they could grasp the golden rays and hoard them for their own personal use when the rainy days came again. They always came far sooner than any of those humans would have liked; it was the one thing he still had in common with them. Jasper didn’t clamour to be in the sunlight of course but he relished in the days it did come, for they were days of intense relief, relief only Edward could half understand. He saw but he never felt, had no true comprehension of just what sunny days meant to Jasper.

Sunny days meant days at home with his family, where there were no humans to make his throat burn with thirst and bitter rage. Better yet, they sometimes meant hunting to, where he could douse the flames and keep them gone for longer without human interference stoking the fire once more. Sunny days meant the freedom to be himself at home since he didn’t have to be so tightly wound. There was no more constant watching of his surroundings, no lingering tension as he scanned for exits and tried not to exert too much strength onto school equipment, no last second changes in direction as an avoidance tactic or listening to the irritating whispers of those high schoolers who spoke in hushed whispers of his oddness.

I am odd, more different than you will ever perceive until it’s far, far too late…

There was no caging the beast inside of him on sunny days, because these were the rare occasions that the beast felt tamed. He didn’t dislike the overcast gloom that constantly hung over Forks, per say, on the contrary it gave him great freedom of movement compared to the half life he’d lived in the shadows of other cities in other states. The gloom was welcome, even a light drizzle was since it dampened human scents and had them scurrying for their homes, keeping them far off of his radar and lessening his temptation to devour them. No, no Jasper longed for these sunny days to keep away what came after. Sunny days were almost always followed by a thunderstorm or two, and they were torturous in their own way to him.

He had been able to taste it in the air since early that morning, the damp and stagnant smell of water rolling in on the clouds above. The wind had picked up just a little, shifting from the gentle breeze of yesterday into a more ferocious gust today, one that nipped at soft flesh and riddled it with goose bumps. The sky had darkened gradually, more cloud cover coming over and weaving together to form armour above the Earth that refused to let the smallest drop of sunlight through. It had all set him on edge before the day had even really started, the crackling feeling of lightning dancing on the gusts of wind that were undeterred by their failure to permeate his skin making him grind his teeth so hard he was surprised he had any left.

You knew of course. Your relationship with Jasper had built steadily, slowly, but in all the time you’d known him you had built a policy of honesty between you both. It was an unspoken rule that you never lied to one another, and over the decades that you had passed together that honesty had brought up stories you were sure he’d never tell anyone else. If there was anything to know about Jasper Hale you knew it and vice versa, you simply didn’t see the need for secrets, so when the first drops of rain fell onto perpetually sodden earth, you knew where his mind took him. Vampirism had its perks, but sometimes the enhanced senses were more of a curse than a blessing.

Jasper was rigid by the window of your shared bedroom, a place he had retreated to the moment he had tasted the lightning in the wind. With his arms folded over his chest, he stared out at the forest through unseeing eyes, the golden irises already being taken over by black, like ink spreading across old parchment. His jaw clenched so hard you were surprised it didn’t crack, his expression twisting as the rain came down in first a few drops, then in sheets. Gallons poured from the sky, mother nature openly weeping for the state of the world in this quiet, private corner of Washington state. His fingers curled into fists, nostrils flaring. The problem with thunderstorms is they were strong in such heightened senses, and when you hated them, having them take over your every sense was like an invasion you were too powerless to fight.

Every raindrop that shattered against the soil was a clattering, ricocheting gunshot vollied across a battlefield straight into his ears. Where lightning struck and scorched the ground, the faintest smell of smoke was a shell that had exploded amongst comrades too far away for him to reach. The rain that spun in dizzying patterns on strong winds blurred his vision, shadows moving erratically in his line of sight, enemies coming to get him and all he held dear. Jasper had spent many a thunderous night staring from the rooftop barn of Maria’s stronghold reflecting on his days as a soldier, on what was right and what was wrong, and as with all things the more you think of them the more easily they are called to mind. Jasper had associated thunderstorms with war ever since, and to his scarred heart war was a painful reminder of every shameful thing he had ever done.

As if he needed any of that! He didn’t need the gut-wrenching anxiety or the shame or the guilt, or the fear. He had enough frustration in his day to day life, watching his adopting siblings’ swan about with restraint he could only dream of while he felt the disgust and trepidation others felt towards him. They all revered his family, oh how the masses adored the pretty and polite teenagers that they longed to be but be nowhere near, but him? Nobody had ever felt anything good about him until you came along, and you always came, especially when the storms began raging in his head. You were distinct, unique. You could be lost in a crowd of a million and one people and Jasper would always find his way to you. You were his lighthouse on stormy nights like this.

His body tensed as your hands slid around his waist, and up his abdomen, but some distant part of his brain recognised the gentle touch as your own. Then came your lips, soft and sweet against the back of his shoulder, moving upward slowly to the nape of his neck as you squeezed him back against your body.

“Stay with me.” You whispered. Jasper swallowed back the venom that had pooled in his mouth without his knowing, the dark thoughts bringing forth his darkest nature. Hesitantly, he unfolded his arms and placed a single hand over one of yours, feeling the smooth skin and the cold ridge of metal that graced your ring finger.

“It’s loud.” He ground out through clenched teeth. The hand he wasn’t holding drifted up into his hair, setting off every instinct he had. They’re going for your head, they’re going for your head, they’re going for your head. He stayed frozen in place, breathing in and out evenly through his nose in the hopes your sweet scent would overwhelm the dampness of the storm, those muddy battlefields beyond the glass slick with rain and blood and venom.

“Then let’s make it quieter.” You suggested lightly, hand carding through his hair rhythmically. Jasper leaned into your touch, the soothing feeling a complete contrast to his agitated mind. He welcomed it, embraced you whole heartedly as your scent made his head swim a bit, his thoughts wavering. When you pulled, he followed, body turning away from the window so all he could see was you. His vision was filled with your gentle smile, your liquid gold eyes so full of love it almost hurt his heart. With his focus on you it was easier to tune into your emotions to, the calm adoration and quiet confidence that this moment would pass and peace would be restored. They washed over him like waves gently lapping at the shore, ebbing and flowing, pulling him out of the darkness and into you.

It took him a few moments to realise you’d lead him to the family bathroom. It was right in the centre of the house and given the private nature of the activities that occurred in such a room, the windows were smaller here. You’d sealed them shut, and steam had clouded them over, steam that rose from a bathtub full of bubbles. Jasper blinked, eyes flickering about the room to the lamps dragged in on extension cords that cast soft, warm light over the porcelain and tasteful grey tile. No candles, no reminders of the fires he’d lit with innocent people as kindling. The room smelled floral, not a sour note in the air to be found, and the radio you cherished for it’s retro look was playing the gentle, plucking guitar melodies he loved to listen to in his spare time.

You had already taken three of his five senses back, so when you began to undress him Jasper let you take a fourth to – touch. Your fingertips idly caressed his skin, brushing sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose, against him as you worked buttons free of holes and pushed the fabric to the floor. He focused in on the feel of your hands, soft and warm against his own marble flesh as they glided over his pectorals up, up, up towards his jaw. With his face cupped in your hands he was helpless to do anything but lean in when you pulled his mouth to your own, a soft, sweet kiss lingering on his lips just briefly before you pulled back again with a smile, brushing your thumb over his lower lip and inclining your head to the water waiting for you both.

“You’re wearing one too many layers for a bath, sugar.” He murmured, not taking his eyes off of you yet as he lowered himself into the water. It was like velvet against his skin and he knew you must have used the fancy bath oils Emmet held so dear for this. He made a quiet vow to protect you from his wrath later. Your only answer was a smile, and with a few quick movements you stripped yourself down for his hungry eyes only and settled yourself behind him in the tub.

It’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a trap, they’re coming at you from behind…

He drew in a deep lungful of air, your scent mixing pleasantly with all the oils and soaps in the bubbles surrounding him. Your hands cupped water and poured it over his shoulders, massaging gently as you went down either side of his spine, tugging him back so he was forced to rest against you. Your lips played along the column of this throat as he stared up at the ceiling, the soft lighting leaving no room for shadows in any corner of the room.

“Done a lot of things that I’m not so proud of took a lot of turns, that turned out wrong, it’s a worn-out song.” Your voice was like honey in his ears, drowning out the rain he could still faintly hear pounding outside with your singing. Jasper willed himself to close his eyes, leaning his head back against your shoulder and letting himself sink into your strong embrace. With his head a little clearer it was easier to train his senses one by one on the room you’d set up, focus in on one thing at a time to chase away the last vestiges of panic that hadn’t had a chance to settle and burrow in thanks to your quick actions.

“I will survive, I will endure, when the goings rough, you can be sure.” He sang along quietly to the radio, feeling you smile against his skin as you kissed his temple.

“Letting go of my bad habits, hanging onto hope, for better times, I’ll be fine.” You continued, pouring some shampoo into your hand to massage it into his scalp. Jasper hummed, focusing on the feel of your fingers in his hair, the lingering smell of coconut.

“Tear drops, no one sees but me, I won’t stop, I’ll always believe.” Jasper rumbled, smiling slightly as you used your hand to shield his eyes from the soap washing away from his hair. You were everywhere with him all at once, your scent in the air, your body against his. You were real, and solid. You were hope incarnate. When the darkness came for him you pulled him back into the light and renewed his faith in himself. Your gentle actions and the outpouring of love and devotion and all things good he felt from you would always keep him buoyant when the storm threatened to drown him again.

“I’ll tough it out, I won’t give in, when I’m knocked down, I’ll get up again.” You sang along, nuzzling his wet hair. Jasper squeezed your thighs that rested either side of his waist, turning his head slightly to lean into you. You were his everything in moments like this, and he wished they never had to end, that reality never had to seep in like it did.

He wanted more for you, to be better for you, to live a life where he was free of the pain he carried so it would stop hurting you to. He could see that future, so tantalisingly close yet so far away when his demons came back to haunt him.  He would be better tomorrow, when the storm had passed, but for tonight he was safe in your embrace to dream the beautiful dream of a life without struggle, where you could both just be, together and whole and happy.

So, he sang the last line of the chorus to you as a vow, a promise that better times were coming for you both.

“As long as my dreams alive, I will survive.”

[onwesterlywinds]

Catspaw Blackmarket

Part of my Godhands series, set roughly in the year 1543 of the Sixth Astral Era - thirty-four years before Hydaelyn’s present-day, and fourteen years before Ala Mhigo’s fall.

GODHANDS IS NOW ON AO3! If you like it, send over some kudos!

"Get up, Ashley."

The voice tore him from sleep, and the accompanying nudge to his foot sent his dreams scattering. He lunged forward from his pile of discarded jackets, grasping for his bearings, only for something made of rough-spun fabric to collide with his face: a plain hempen bag, which fell into his lap as his heart pounded and his thoughts raced in confusion.

"Morning," said Élodie. She sauntered into his field of view, spinning a keyring around her finger - the key to the safehouse where he and Marco had taken up shelter. "We have to head to the Profondeurs right away, so the longer it takes for you to get up, the more we'll need to run on our way there."

It took him several tries to fully grasp what she was saying. "What the fuck?!"

"I'm serious. We're on a tight timeline, so you'd better come to life quick."

Absent was a teasing comment, or even an exhausted groan at his flank; sure enough, when he glanced around the safehouse, there was no trace of Marco where he had fallen asleep beside Ashley only a short while before. "Where's-"

Élodie set herself to tying back her long black hair into a simple bun. "He's getting your knives repaired in the Sprawl. We'll meet him there later, assuming our own work goes well, but he said I could borrow you for a bit. We talked it over right in front of you; you really slept through it all?"

"Ugh." He blinked and tried to rub the last remnants of sleep out of his eyes. "Yeah, I... I've just woken up."

"I hadn't noticed," she quipped. "So are you ready?"

He had half a mind to refuse to go with her as a matter of principle, to insist that she ask for his assistance before taking it for granted. But he would never deny Marco his presence, just as he had no good reason to deny Élodie whatever she needed now. His safety with her was no question: he had never seen Marco or Élodie lie to one another, and Marco would have put up much more of a fight if he'd left against his will. "Why the Profondeurs, then?"

"Listen, not to be an arse, but there's literally no time. If you're not coming with me, fine - but I need to make this happen or I'm fucked."

He staggered to his feet in his effort to quickly find his balance. With his knife in Marco's hands for repair and no other possessions to call his own, he needed scarcely any time to ready himself; still, he took a moment to stretch out his shoulders and breathe in deep before he gave Élodie a nod that was much more confident than he felt.

"Lead on," he said.

Were someone to ask him the way into the Profondeurs, Ashley would have thought himself capable of giving directions. Several times along their run, he recognized paths that led toward the deepest reaches of the Undercity: paths from which he had seen other Duskwights come and go, or crossroads that he had carved into his memory from piecemeal snippets of maps and muscle memory and directions spoken aloud. Élodie's chosen course skirted every one of those instincts, had him second-guessing himself and his position in the Undercity at every turn.

The two of them met with only a few others along their route - not deliberately going out of their way to remain unseen, but crossing just enough bypassers to avoid attracting suspicion. Only the final half malm of their journey was completed in solitude, as they traversed a narrow precipice jutting out over a deep and bottomless darkness below. Ashley made it more than halfway across before he realized what it was he faced, and just how near he was to some unfathomable end. From there, once their path widened, Élodie lowered her stance into an impossibly slow pace and Ashley followed her lead, treading with greater care even than when faced with the threat of falling to their deaths. He knew better than to ask the reason for their sudden caution. He traced out her footsteps with care until his calves ached from the strain of it, and yet his steps were as silent as hers. The quiet submerged him as surely as the darkness, until he heard, as clearly as if it came from somewhere deep within him, a series of low and steady clicks. They continued on; Élodie paused once, still crouched, to let out a deep exhalation of breath. He did not see when whatever danger they strode through had passed: Élodie simply rolled out her shoulders and resumed her usual posture.

"Right," she said, speaking as confidently as though their trek had not just demanded their utter silence. "We're here."

Élodie flicked open her lantern and blew out the candle. Whatever sound Ashley might have made to stop her died in his throat. He needed only to blink for his vision to adjust, and spots of deep gold bloomed into his view. The entire cavern shimmered as if lit by distant stars.

"Whoa," he breathed, despite himself.

She let out a rare snort of laughter but did not slow her pace. "It's called Jan's bloom. I need as much of it as we can gather. Here-" Her outline came closer, manifesting in the darkness more as the absence of gold than as any distinguishable shape. With one hand, she gently clasped his wrist; with the other, she passed him a new knife to replace the one Marco had taken for repairs, one with a dulled but even blade. "It should come right off the walls with this." Still holding him by the arm, she directed him over to the gold-speckled stone, where she held her hempen bag at the ready and ran her own knife along the cavern wall. With a light and tinny scrape, the moss fell easily into the sack.

"You take up that side," she instructed, and though he could not see where it was she pointed, he headed over to where the gold seemed to gather in the brightest clumps and she did not redirect him. The motion of scraping while holding the bag steady required somewhat more coordination than Élodie's example had made clear, but after only a few rounds of fumbling with the fabric, he set himself to work and soon fell into a rhythm marked by the almost melodic sound of metal against stone.

The moss gathered quickly in his bag, and the more of it he collected, the more his vision and hearing adjusted to his darkened surroundings. Soon every ilm of him, down to his bared nerves, responded to each and every stimulus: a subterranean breeze, a droplet of moisture from the cavern's high ceiling, even a reprise of the clicking they'd heard before summoned from somewhere deep in his mind.

"So, uh," he said at length, "what does this stuff do?"

"It's a deadly poison that kills Hyur on contact." He could not see her grin amid the darkness, but he did not need to; before he could even open his mouth to respond, she continued, "It has lots of different properties. On its own, it's a cure for sunlight headaches - or, if you steep it overnight along with some other herbs, it can help with anxiety. My aunt takes it, or else she doesn't get out of bed."

It was the first Élodie had ever spoken of her family. Rather than risk prying, he nodded, then remembered she likely couldn't see him in the dark. "So why do you need so much? Why bring me along?"

"It's... a long story."

"Élodie." His hand holding the knife stilled, hovering over a clump of Jan's bloom as thick as his thumb. "Come on."

"What?!"

"I'm just saying. I'm here because I chose to be. I'm just asking if I have any reason to worry."

For a while, she said nothing at all, but the sounds from her knife came faster than before. At last, she said, "Fine. I needed your help because this'll be my last time in the Profondeurs for a while. Maybe ever."

"Did something happen, or-"

"I really don't want to talk about it," she said. "Not right now, at least. How's your harvest coming along?"

He reached into his bag and gently pressed down on the moss he'd gathered. "Little under halfway full."

He did not hear her come up behind him until she breathed next to his ear. Her sudden proximity made him jump; he had not been so close to anyone except Marco for a long while. From somewhere near her neck, he thought he caught the scent of a vaguely earthy-smelling perfume.

"You're getting the hang of it," she said. There was no malice, no urgency in her voice. "Here-" She reached her knife arm over the top of his, coming up close behind him; she scraped her own knife along the underside of a small outcropping of rock, from which Jan's bloom growing in thick and lush clumps fell with ease into his open bag. She placed one of her hands on his elbow, as if to direct his arm holding his knife. "Open your mouth," she directed.

His face burned red in the darkness. "What?!"

"You'll be fine," she shot back, then adopted a teasing, singing tone. "Come on!"

He did as she instructed, waiting with his mouth hanging wide for at least a few seconds and feeling every ilm the fool, until Élodie placed a drop of Jan's bloom upon his tongue. It tasted like nothing he had ever tried before: bitter enough to make him nearly recoil at first, yet ending on a sweetness that reminded him of rolanberries.

"Don't worry," she said. "It's harmless like this - you can eat it right from the rock." Élodie demonstrated this by lifting the glint of her moss-laden knife to the height of her own lips. "Heat's what activates its properties. Put it in tea water, or leave it out on a hot day, and that's when it'll really start to kick in." She gave another look into the contents of his bag, then back up at him. "You look cute when you blush."

"Wh-"

"I can see way better than you in the dark, remember?" As he reeled at this newfound knowledge, she said, "Let's give it another quick go-around and then head out. I'd rather not have enough than risk getting caught here."

Élodie used the light pooling in her bag to find her matches. In the middle of her motion to reignite her lantern, she paused, bit her lip, and glanced back up at him.

"Thanks for coming with me," she said. Her voice held an unfamiliar waver. Then the lantern glowed anew, obscuring the Jan's bloom upon the walls once more - and as his eyes stung from the sudden brightness, he had the good sense not to comment on the tears gathered in her own eyes.

***

Ashley did not know when or where he had first heard tell of the Undercity as a child. He might have insisted he'd known of it for as long as he could remember, were it not for a string of nightmares he'd once had - of falling through cracks and haunted treasure and blades in the dark - that had forced his exasperated mother to sit awake with him for the better part of a week.

The Sprawl resembled those dreamlike fascinations more so than any other part of the Undercity he had yet seen. It was itself the closest thing the Undercity had to a city beneath the earth, with shops and dwellings crammed into close proximity under a low-hanging ceiling of stone. Most streets were only wide enough to permit a few people to pass, and blue lanterns illuminated the paths in lieu of a bright sky overhead.

Élodie scarcely bothered to conceal their harvest as she marched him through the narrow lanes. There was a pageantry to her carelessness: here, every step they took was under scrutiny, more so than even during their earlier journey in the Profondeurs. Together they passed conversations held at a whisper, children who halted to stare with open curiosity, curtains drawn and opened at random.

They ducked past a pair of green-robed Roegadyn and turned sideways down a grimy alleyway. There they arrived outside the Catspaw, a shop that to Ashley blended in with the rest of their surroundings, tucked behind a metal grate with a beaded curtain as its only defense. It resembled any other seedy apothecary one might have found in the Ala Mhigo, albeit with fewer wares on display.

"Wait here," Élodie said. "Don't talk to anyone, don't touch anything."

He might have protested at her lack of faith, were he any less exhausted, but the compounded fatigue of running and sneaking and secrecy were beginning to weigh on him. He merely held out his sack of Jan's bloom for her, and she took it with a wink.

Élodie pushed aside the curtain and the shopkeeper lifted his head to greet her. He was an older Duskwight man, though sturdy for his height; his grimy white hair was tied back from his shoulders in a low ponytail, and he offered her a smile full of perfectly straight teeth. They spoke together in tones too quiet for Ashley to distinguish words from, though the shopkeeper glanced his way more than once and Élodie often huffed and sighed and made a show of setting the two bags of Jan's bloom upon his seller's counter.

"Hey," came Marco from his left side.

Ashley let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding; his arms were crossed tight.

"How'd it go?" Marco asked.

"It..." Ashley shrugged, then figured Élodie's "don't talk to anyone" was unlikely to apply to Marco. "She's still in there, selling our haul. We were just about to go and meet you. What about the knives, did you-?"

"All set." Before Ashley could see that Marco had moved his hand, his friend slipped his newly resheathed dagger into his waistband at the left hip. "And I ran into Hazal, an old ally. She said she's got a job for us both, if you think you'd be up for some intimidation."

He made a noise before he could help it. When Marco gave him a look in response, he said, "Intimidation? We could scare the piss out of little kids, maybe, but I doubt we'd be anything but a nuisance to folk bigger than us."

Inside the shop, Élodie slammed her palm down on the counter with a bang, and he and Marco both jumped in alarm. "What do you mean, there's none left?!"

The shopkeeper appeared unfazed; if anything, his unctuous smile grew ever wider. "I mean precisely what I said," he drawled. "I've no more vera root for you. My supplier has doubled their asking price, and it's more trouble than it's worth to keep it stocked. Your attempts to blackmail me will not conjure what you need."

With a single breath, Élodie drew herself up to her full height. "How dare-"

"Do not think me a fool, Miss Fiel," the shopkeeper continued, still baring his perfect teeth. "It took all of a half a bell for word of your disownment to reach this street."

"I-"

"Allude to my relationships all you wish. Your juvenile gossip will not conjure vera root in my stores - nor will it make your dear Maman Hélène love you as before."

The words found their mark. At once Élodie stepped back, almost staggering, as though the shopkeeper had struck her. Ashley darted through the beaded curtain at once, sending its strands skittering against one another, and took up his practiced defensive stance between Élodie and the counter. Marco did not follow him inside but instead kept close watch at the entrance.

"You shut the fuck up," Ashley snarled.

"I need the vera root," Élodie sobbed behind him. "For a potion, it's-" My aunt takes it, or else she doesn't get out of bed. "Please."

Ashley unsheathed his newly repaired dagger, and the shopkeeper's sunken eyes followed the glint of its blade. "Tell me who your supplier is."

"Put that down, you pathetic, shitesucking little-"

"Tell me who they are. And if you lie, I swear I'll tear this place down."

Again the man's eyes darted to the blade lowered at Ashley's side, then to something on the shelves behind Élodie. "The Balam Ring," he said. "It's J'zhal Nunh of the Balam Ring. Now get out."

Élodie took in another unsteady breath from behind him. From the corner of his eye, Marco gave the most imperceptible of nods.

He opened his mouth to deliver one last parting threat to the shopkeeper but found his mind utterly blank. He resheathed his dagger with one hand, led Élodie out of the shop with the other, and made a hasty retreat with Marco into the shadows of the Sprawl.

"Well," Marco quipped. "At least we know you are up for intimidation."

"Oh, fuck off."

His friend only laughed. "I'm serious! That was amazing. And bloody terrifying."

Behind them, Élodie fell to her knees and wept.

"Hey." Marco's humor fled at once as he and Ashley rushed to her side. "Hey, now. We've got you."

They had to support her weight for the rest of their journey back to the safehouse. There, in their relative privacy, Marco gave her the last of their clean water and Ashley did his utmost to bundle her in the jackets they'd slept upon the previous night, but there was little else for either of them to do for her until the majority of her tears subsided.

"I'm sorry," she whispered at long last. Marco immediately shook his head, but she pressed on. "My clan's matriarch, Maman Hélène, she... she told me I wasn't allowed to go topside anymore. She was angry I've been learning alchemy; in my clan, it's something only married women do. She wanted me to marry her son and succeed her one day, but he's vile, and he's allowed to go topside whenever he wants, and... and it wasn't fair. So I left."

"Fuck," Ashley breathed.

"Wh-What?"

"You'd get kicked out of your family just for going up to the surface?"

Élodie heaved a shuddering, sniffling breath. "Our matriarch's word is law, Ashley. That's been our way, ever since the Gridanians drove us out of Gelmorra."

He had no response to that, and so he labored to wrap his thoughts around the enormity of what she was saying, and all that she was surely leaving unsaid.

"I d-didn't want you to think worse of me," she stammered. "Your family's been murdered, and Marco never had one to begin with." Her lip trembled, and the rest of her words fell out of her in a rush. "And I just left mine - all because I was too stupid and selfish to do the one thing asked of me."

"You're not," Ashley said. "You're not either of those things. And I'd never think worse of you for leaving a family like that."

"My aunt was depending on me," she sobbed. "She needs the tonic I make for her, and now... Now I don't know how I'll ever see her again."

"Listen," said Marco, gently. "This aunt's the one who raised you, right? The one who took you in after your parents died?"

Élodie nodded.

"She won't give up on you that easy. From everything you've told me about her before, I bet she'll find a way to see you. Even if she's stuck in bed for now. 'Sides-" He set a hand on Élodie's shoulder as it began to fall once more. "There's plenty of other Duskwights who live outside the clans, most of 'em decent enough. I bet you'll have them to look to. So this isn't the end, yeah?"

"Y-Yeah."

"And you've got us," Ashley added, then immediately wondered if he was jumping to conclusions. "If you'll have us."

She gave a heaving sniff and wiped at her streaming nose with the back of her hand. "It's good this happened."

"Yeah?" said Marco.

"Yeah. It means I can join you now, really join you, without putting a target on the others' backs. Now that I've no family to speak of, Blackram will have no one to go after. And I... don't have any more excuses to keep my head down."

Marco's eyes darted to meet Ashley's, and the same grave understanding passed between them. Without speaking another word, Élodie curled up beneath the bundle of fabric and laid herself down to sleep. Ashley huddled beside her, weathering her every muffled sob even as he kept his open eyes fixed upon the door - even as she wrapped her arm around his waist, and Marco draped his arm across them both.

[writingfromkitchenator]

Eomer ~ It Is My Secret

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,954

Warnings: Neutral Winged Reader, smidge of angst, mentions of battle and war, awkward fluff, suggested soul mates

Eomer sat on the steps of Edoras, his head resting on his hands as he watched his people start to put things back together.  He was glad that Saruman's army had never made it this far, the battle of Helms Deep still very fresh in his mind, but there was another reason why he sat there and dwelled on it.

He learnt from Aragorn that they had been desperate, that they were down to their last efforts in riding the invaders, charging out from the main hall.  They had arrived just in time with their charge.

But he, and none of his men had expected the sight before them.

It wasn’t the army, no, Gandalf had warned them well enough of what was coming.  It was the bright, burning, white-gold light that was shining from Helms Deep, the uruk-hai cowering before it, barely registering the other army now before them. Eomer had sworn that there was a figure within that light, but as the sun crested over the hill, it all blended together, and within what felt like moments, that battle was over.

The thought of the figure was pushed from his mind for a little while, at least, that was until he saw you walking towards Gandalf.

His breath was stolen from him almost instantly.  You were beautiful, of that he had no doubt, a soft glow seeming to surround you, but what really drew his gaze was the large white wings that were folded neatly at your back.  In all his years, he had never seen anything quite like it, and yet, it just added to the feelings already filling his chest.

Your gaze met his as you talked to Gandalf, and he thought that all time had stopped.  Without a doubt he suddenly knew that it was you he’d seen on the battlements, sending forth your light, arms spread wide into the waning night, burning and startling the gazes of the enemy so that the others could have a fighting chance.

He had to speak to you.

Theoden saw him looking and called him over, introducing you. Eomer fought to keep his gaze on yours as they talked, but now that he was closer, your wings were even more illuminating.  He greatly had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them.

It was as they talked though, as you discussed what was to come next, that he realised that something was different about the way they watched you compared to what he felt.  Surely when someone with such an ethereal feel to them would draw all sorts of wonder from their gazes?  No matter how long they had known you, surely there would still be some sort of recognisable look that they would give you, especially when your wings just flowed so easily as part of you, as if you weren’t even aware they were there.

Slowly, it dawned on him, that they could not see them.

So as you went your separate ways to begin regathering the people, to begin the long road to cleaning up and preparing for what was next, he made a promise to himself that he would find you and talk to you where no other ears could listen.

Eomer got his chance quite by accident, carrying some supplies into a room to be sorted, and finding you already there alone, going through some items.

He’d bowed politely.  “Apologies to barge in, I, ah, just had these to bring in.”

Your smile made his heart race.  “That’s quite alright.  Just put them in the corner over there, I’ll get to it all slowly.”

Eomer’s face went red, he could feel it, but he did as you asked. He should’ve left then, should’ve just waited for another time, but as he watched you, as he admired your wings again in such close quarters, he couldn’t help himself.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” He said quietly, earning your gaze again.  “What are you?”

You frowned for a moment, the question taking you by surprise, before you looked at him.  It was quiet a hard look, surprising him, but he felt no ill intent towards it. “You…can see me?”

Eomer nods, unsure of how else to take this reaction.

Your mouth opened for a moment, before it closed again and you hummed thoughtfully, eyeing him carefully.  “What exactly can you see?”

“Your wings,” He whispered, the moment feeling so strange, his eyes wandering to them.  “They are…unlike anything I have ever seen before.  It is a wonder to behold.  You-you are a wonder to behold.”

This seemed to you back even more, your frown deepening, and he couldn’t help but suddenly feel like he’d unintentionally crossed some sort of line.

“I am not used to people being able to see me,” You said, a little wearily.  “Not unless I choose to do so.  This is…an unexpected development.”

“Why would you wish to hide this?”  Eomer asked without thinking.  “Why would-”

“My reasons are my own,” You said quickly, cutting him off. “And I must ask that you do not mention this to anyone Eomer, not until I have had time to think this over.”

A momentary panic filled him.  “If I have upset you-”

“You haven’t,” You said.  “It’s just...a surprise.  I would never have expected this to happen.”

“But-”

“We can talk some more later,” You said, something pained crossing your expression for a brief moment.  “Please, Eomer, I just need some time.”

He had left you be, against the own judgement and aching of his heart.  It was then a long few days through Helms Deep and traveling back to Edoras.  Too often he found himself watching you, and more than once your gaze had met his and he’d had to force himself to look away. Your wings glowed in the sunlight as you rode ahead of him, and he had all but committed the sight to memory.

Now, as he sat watching his people slowly recover, he wondered whether you would actually ever talk to him again, whether there could have been something different he could have done.  You’d been avoiding him since your return here.

There is a soft chuckle and Eomer finally looks up, finding Eowyn watching him with a gentle smile.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so pensive before.  Is there someone you would like to talk about?”

Eomer rolls his eyes and looks back out.  “No.”

Eowyn steps next to him.  “I’m sure that it cannot be that bad.  I have not seen you this miserable in a long time.”

“Miserable?”  He asked, and slowly, it dawned on him.  He was, he was utterly miserable that you weren’t talking to him, that whatever had happened had been left so open.  Eomer didn’t understand it and it only made him question more why you were having such an effect on him.

She sits next to him, a gentle hand resting on his arm. “Are you alright brother?”

Eomer lets out a slow breath, pushing his hair back and rubbing his neck.  “I do not know.  I do not know what is happening to me.  Perhaps it is these times…or perhaps I said something wrong.  I just do not know.”

“If that is the case,” Eowyn said.  “Then would not words solve the problem.”

He wished he had an answer for that, because for all he knew, you would never speak to him again.

“I hate upsetting the nice one.”  He muttered under his breath. “I hate it.  This should not be that difficult.”

Tension shot up his back as someone cleared their throat behind them, only to turn and see you standing there, looking a little sheepish, and giving a polite bow.  “Lady Eowyn, may I talk with Lord Eomer privately for a moment?”

Eowyn’s smile said everything as she gets up.  “Of course. Perhaps you can pull him from his misery.”

Eomer suddenly wanted Eowyn to come back as you joined him.  Silence dragged on for a long moment, silence in which he observed you from the corner of his eye, watching as you quietly seemed to wait.

“I am sorry if I was short with you the other day,” You said, just as he thought he was about to snap. “It was not my intention.  I am…not used to people being able to see me. For most, I am simply another human, and it is often much simpler to offer only that.”

You let out a slow breath and give him a kind smile.  “I would also not have expected to find one like you in such a time, as dark as it is becoming.”

“One such as me?” Eomer asked, frowning slightly.

“Yes,” You nod, but look away.  “Perhaps once this over, I can explain more, but for now, know that you have done nothing wrong Eomer.”

He finally seemed to relax, feeling an ache lifted from his chest, and he couldn’t help but look at you gratefully.  “If I was too direct…”

You shook your head. “You could not have known. Knowledge of what I am was lost to many of you long ago, and thus, I think it may be safer to remain.  Just know that I will not be far from your side should you need me.”

Eomer felt himself flush, but before he could help himself, he slid closer to you, a gentle hand resting on your knee.  “Do not burden yourself so, especially not in times like this.  I am here for you, because you have already shown you are there for everyone.”

A little chuckle leaves you and your hand rests atop his.  “In this matter, I do not have a choice, nor would I wish it any other way. We are bound on a path forward Eomer, and I know you wish more of an answer to that, I know you feel it as I do, but for now, that must be enough.”

“It is,” He said, his eyes flicking between yours before they wander to your wings, still sitting so easily behind you.  “When we have won this war…”

You smiled softly and before he can ask anything else, you unfurled one of your wings and wrapped it around him, pushing both of you closer together.

A small shiver goes through him as stares at the white feathers, feeling just how soft it was pressed against him, his hand almost reaching out to touch it before he met your gaze again.

“Here,” You said softly, handing him a single white feathers, it feeling oddly warm in his hands. “Others cannot see it, but I would still keep it secret.  It is my secret, one I am now trusting you with. There are still things that can reveal me, and that can become a danger if we are not careful.”

Eomer stares at the feather for a long moment, his fingers brushing through it, feeling it against his fingertips and almost entirely speechless on receiving such a gift.  “I will keep it.”

“Good,” You leaned over and kissed his cheek gently, making him freeze.  “Then we shall leave it as that for now.  When things are over, when we find ourselves alone again, then I shall say more.”

With that, you stood and stepped away, leaving Eomer sitting there in a quiet, stunned silence, unsure now of what to do with himself.  Your feather span in his fingers and he watched it catch the light, much like your wings did, his heart singing more than what it ever had.

He smiled and tucked it neatly away, close to heart, before he stood and followed after you, knowing that the time had come to discuss the coming war.

[burninglilys]

run for your life with me

Or, 4 times Pang and Wave imagine beginning anew and 1 time they actually do.

(#thegiftedweek, day one: new beginnings)

1.

"Do you ever think about running away?" Pang asks, his jaw clenched, staring determinedly at his bulletin board as though he'd posed the stupidest question that Wave has ever heard to the board and not Wave. 

It has only been three days since they decided to work together. Three long days, in Wave's opinion, who feels quite rattled at the influx of all that is Pang. He has been drenched in confusing feelings, too mingled up to pick apart the intricacies of it every time that he’s around him. Wave would love putting it in a tiny chest and hiding it under the loneliest corner of his mind, avoiding it all, but there this inexplicable  pull of Pang -- with his easy smiles and sharp mind -- that he just can’t deny. 

Wave peels his eyes away from Pang, who stands honey-hued in the room reflecting the sunlight that pours in from his window, and turns his gaze towards the board. 

"No," Wave replies, honestly. 

Pang startles at the answer, his arms that were sternly crossed against his chest falling at his side. 

"Really?" 

"Really," Wave confirms, looking at Pang again. "This is my reality. I have got to accept it because there's no way out of it but this."

Pang looks all out of sorts at that. "Why?" Wave asks, "Are you thinking about running away and starting anew?" 

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Pang clenches his fists again. "They're just fantasies, you know? Of running away, beginning again. It helps deal with the reality easier," Pang says in a small voice that Wave decidedly does not like. "I'm not actually going to do that, not when we have just started; certainly not when we have so much left." 

"Well," Wave starts, deciding to do something he'd only ever thought of as a mythical concept -- compromising, "As long as they're just fantasies."  He internally cringes at how sharp his voice sounds, when he actually means: please don't run away. I would not know what to do if you did. 

"It's just," Pang huffs, rubbing the flat of his palm on his face. "It doesn't hurt to imagine, you know? Running away from Rithda. A life where the director does not exist; a life where we can live in this bubble of ignorance about everything that's wrong with the education system as a whole."

Wave looks at him, at a complete loss for what to say. 

“You should imagine how you’d like to live your life away from this all,” Pang says. “It helps, I promise. Then you have an idea about the future that you’re fighting for. That we are fighting for. And we can get to building it right away, once this all ends. Or just away from it all, if it doesn't.” 

Wave chooses to ignore the multiple ‘we-s’ that scatter throughout all of what Pang said. "Yeah, right. As if you wouldn't do the same anywhere else. Running away from this responsibility of making things equitable for all is equivalent to running away from everything that makes you, you. A place would hold no power over it." 

Pang's eyes crinkle around the edges, his dimple deepening, as he lets out a laugh full of mirth. "Oh?” he asks, his tone teasing, “You know me that well, huh, Wave?” 

Wave hurriedly averts his eyes from Pang. “Shut up,” he grits out. 

“I thought you hated me,” Pang says, taking a step towards Wave. “I thought that you couldn’t stand to be around me.” 

“I can’t, you asshole,” Wave says, stepping away, ignoring the deeply contradictory feelings that run through him. “You’re the worst.” 

“You wouldn’t have agreed to work with me if that were true,” Pang hums, coming to stand beside him, their shoulder brushing against each other. 

Wave stares at the withering corner of the bulletin board, prepared to not look at Pang until he moves away. “I just hate the system more than you,” he says. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” 

“Your friend, huh?” Pang asks, bumping their shoulders together. “You think of me as your friend?” 

Wave sighs, turning his head to steal a glance from Pang only to realise that he is already being looked at. Wave holds his gaze, not dropping it despite how much he wants to, scared of the emotion that might just burn him from inside. 

“I think of you as an annoyance,” Wave answers and does not move away. “An annoyance who wants to bring down the system and yet thinks about escaping from it all.” 

“I am a complex person,” Pang states, turning his eyes away from Wave. “I could want it all, you don’t know.” 

Wave does not say: I would come and live with you in the bubble of ignorance if you ever decide to. Or: I could help us escape without a digital footprint in a second. Instead, he says, “Let’s get back to this so you can stop building castles in your fantasies away from all this.” 

“Not castles, Wave,” Pang says with a small smile on his face. “A small apartment for us would suffice, no?” 

2. 

Pang meets Wave’s eyes from across the canteen, his eyes neither blinking in recognition nor in any sort of liveliness as it usually does. Just blank. Always blank, these days. 

It is not that Wave expects Khun Pom’s potential to suddenly weaken in a way that makes Pang remember everything, but he still hopes. He hopes and he wishes in a fervour, losing his mind over the empty eyes that Pang looks at him with. 

“We will get to him,” Namtarn softly says, nudging their elbows together. 

“It is taking him too long,” Wave replies with undisguised impatience, stabbing into his food. 

“Don’t take it out on your food,” she says firmly. “We are going to find a way.” 

“What if we don’t?” Wave asks, surprising himself with the words that fall from him. “What if he never remembers? What if he just never remembers us?” Never remembers me?

“Wave,” Namtarn says, holding his elbow. “He is going to remember everything and everyone that he has forgotten. We are going to make sure of that, remember?” 

“But what if--”

“We will figure it out,” Namtarn says, gently. “Whatever happens, we will.” 

Wave gets less optimistic by the minute. Pang’s memories don’t ever leave him. It consumes him whole; it takes up the very little space he has left to give and takes up some more. 

Wave wonders what Pang would say if he were beside him in almost every situation that Wave finds himself in, his laughter filtering through his mind whenever something remotely funny happens, his warmth holding him tight when he thinks that he might just fall apart at all the blank looks he receives. 

Right now, Pang’s own voice reverberates somewhere behind his ribs, saying, "Do you ever think about running away?" 

Yes, Wave wants to say now. He should've always said yes; should've convinced himself and Pang to run away from it all if it meant having Pang safe. We should have run away when we had the chance all those weeks ago. We should’ve run away all those days in between. 

That thought begins unravelling a lot more than he’d ever signed up for. In the comfort of his room (that looks too empty without Pang’s overwhelming presence), he turns to his paper and pen. 

Pang, he writes, in my imagination, we are living in a small house by the beach. The weather is somehow always pleasant -- not too sticky, not too cold -- just perfect, all for us. We can watch the tidal waves from the long windows that house, I’ve decided. There is no Rithda, no vicious Directors trying to take all of what you fought for from you, all of what you remembered from you, and… and all of what I love from me. I like you a little too much, you know? There is just you and me, our house by the beach beside our friends’ houses, and the world promising a better present laid out for us. Come back to us -- to me -- please.”

Wave stops short at the monstrosity that he has written on the paper in front of him and crumples it in a ball, ready to throw it in the trash. Fantasies of a future that wasn’t for him were dangerous waters he really did not want to sink under. Nothing good ever came out of it. 

3. 

“It is not your fault,” Pang softly says, sitting beside him. 

"How is it not my fault?" Wave asks his voice tethering on something that might resemble a cry if he thinks too hard. "I asked her to go there! I asked her to go. Me. This would not have happened had I not."

"You could not have known," Pang says, sounding more rational than he ever has the right to. "If it's anyone's fault, it is mine."

"How?" Wave asks, edging on incredulity. "How is this your fault?" 

"The anti-gifted was formed because of me, don't you remember?" 

"The anti-gifted was formed because of their ideologies," Wave corrects. "This is not on you."

"Exactly why it's not on you either," Pang replies with a shrug. "It's entirely on the anti-gifted." 

Wave sinks into the uncomfortable chair of the infirmary, unable to look directly at Pang. "I asked her to go, Pang," he says in a voice he doesn't remember as his own. 

"I am the cause of anti-gifted," Pang replies easily, sounding as though he truly believes it. 

"We've been over this."

"Exactly," says Pang. "If I am supposed to stop blaming myself for this and believe in it the way you and everyone has been insisting, then you're not either. Those are the rules."

"Your rules are as stupid as you," Wave counters. Blaming yourself for being the cause of a group that is determined to pull the system down with unnecessary violence is not the same as directing your friend to go to an auditorium while there's a live bomb in it. Wave does not understand how Pang can't comprehend the difference. 

"Do you guys think that everything in this universe happens because of you both, huh?" Mon asks frustrated. Startled, Wave looks at her looming figure above them both, a sharp contrast to her red-rimmed eyes and how pale she looks. "You can be the most considerate people out there and follow all your plans well and yet there are things that you can't control! Like this! We could not have controlled this." 

"We could've --" Pang and Wave both start, before Mon interrupts again. 

"Seriously, guys. Just because you're the leader, Pang, does not mean that we've to agree to everything that you say. If you're blaming yourself for the 'anti-gifted', then you might as well blame all of us because we did agree to it. It was a mutual decision." 

"Exactly," Wave says in half-hearted triumph.

"And Wave, you did what any one of us would've done. Namtarn was the closest to the auditorium," Mon says, choking on her name. "Besides," she adds, resembling someone trying their hardest to keep it together, "it's not going to be that bad. We're going to keep in touch with her. It's not going to be bad at all!" 

"Whatever," Wave says, standing up, knowing full well that Mon is 100% right. "Whatever," he repeats, leaving the infirmary altogether. 

It is when he reaches in his room that his phone screen lights up with a message. Wave ignores it, feeling scrubbed too raw with the long day that they've all had. 

Pang (21:33)

do u ever think about running away? 

Pang (21:37) 

we could run away from this all. i could make them never want to look for us. u could erase our digital footprint. only mom and our friends would know who we are and where we are. we could change our names and delete everything. 

Pang (21:49) 

we could begin again. 

Pang (21:56)

one word from u and the plan is on. we leave tomorrow. 

Wave (23:06)

As if you could order someone to do something without feeling guilty. (As if you could leave this school before doing something about it.)

Pang (23:07) 

i culd if it meant us having a chance to begin again. (it doesnt hurt to imagine, wave.)

Wave (23:07) 

What would our new names be, then? 

Pang (23:08) 

haven't thought that far. all I know is that we'd b together

Wave (23:09) 

Where would we go? 

Pang (23:11) 

anywhere u want. we could leave the country and move into the countryside. we could stay in the country and live by the beach. we could go on the moon, if you'd like. anywhere with u. 

Wave (23:16) 

Anywhere with me? 

Pang (23:16)

anywhere w you. it's all I'd need, really. 

Wave (23:22)

Yeah. That's all I'd need as well. 

Wave (23:23) 

we're going to have to destroy the director first, though. 

Pang (23:24)

duh -_-

4. 

Ohm slams the door shut, leaving a tightly wound silence in the air, leaving Pang, of all people, heavy with defeat.

"When you're done being emotional about all this, call me," Wave says, causing Pang to look away from the door, at him. "I'll be waiting." 

A slow smile creeps on Pang's face. "You're really with me?" 

"Idiot," Wave answers. "How dare you question that?" 

"How can I not?" Pang mumbles. "Don't answer that. And I will call you. I promise. Unless…"

Wave crosses his arms across his chest, sinking deeper into the chair, urging him to go on. "Unless, you want to have dinner together. Right now," Pang continues, looking away. "Only if you want to," he hurriedly adds, "it's okay even if you can't. I mean, I'm sure--"

"Pang."

Pang meets his gaze. 

"I have instant noodles in the pantry. We can make them and go to the rooftop." 

Pang's face loses all of its uncertainty in an instant. "Yeah, okay." 

They make the instant noodles in silence and Wave has this urge to fill it. It had been way too long since they'd seen each other and although there's familiarity in Pang's presence, he doesn't know what's allowed anymore. Their hands brush against each other when they try grabbing the Tupperware at the same time and jump away from each other as though scorned. 

"Sorry," Pang awkwardly chuckles. "I just. Uh. Yeah."

"It's okay," Wave replies, moving towards him. "Just carry the Tupperware and I'll carry the drinks and the mats, okay?"   

The rooftop has always held a sense of permanence that Wave has never before attached to a place. It would only make sense then, for Wave to make it accessible for him even at night. Wave taps on a switch effectively turning on the LED light strips attached to every nook and cranny of the walls. Wave watches Pang -- completely transfixed with the way the rooftop is now enveloped with a soft-golden glow.

"You really did all this?" Pang asks in wonderment. 

"Obviously," Wave answers, "How did you think we'd be able to see our food, Pang?" 

Pang sheepishly holds out his phone. "The torch, I'd assumed." 

"Idiot," Wave mutters. 

Pang moves to bump their shoulders together. "You love me anyway." 

Wave does not acquiesce that with a reply, focusing entirely on setting the boxes as a makeshift table and placing their Tupperwares on it. "Eat," he says, shoving the chopsticks in Pang's hands and opening both their Tupperwares. 

"Give me your phone," Pang replies. 

"Why?" Wave asks, handing him the phone. He watches Pang tinker with his phone before soft, lulling music fills the atmosphere. 

"What's this for?" Wave asks, focusing entirely on his food and not on how this looks like -- a dinner with someone he likes akin to a candle light dinner with sombre music playing in the background. 

Pang looks at him with a tiny, indignant smile. "I'm here, at my favourite place with my favourite person, after days, Wave. Let me have this." 

Wave huffs, adjusting his jacket draped over his shoulders. "Alright, weirdo." 

Pang shakes his head, finally turning towards his Tupperware. The music fills in the gaps in their conversation and it's so pleasant, that Wave could almost forget about the impending doom that lies beyond them. 

They shift to lie side-by-side on their mat, a while after dinner. Their elbows brush against each other as they stare at the stars above them. 

"Do you ever think about running away?" Wave whispers, the wind around then picking up pace. 

"All the time," Pang says. "But I can't, now. We can't. We're too close to changing it all, Wave."

"I know," Wave replies. "But it doesn't hurt to imagine now, does it?"

Wave feels the pressure of Pang's gaze on him and determinedly does not look back. "It doesn't," Pang replies, shuffling to his side, his head resting on the fold of his elbow. 

"So," Wave says, "imagine this with me."

"A home on the outskirts of the city," Pang replies. 

"Like an apartment?" Wave asks, turning to his side as well. 

"No," says Pang. "A house. A home. We go to the university nearby. The Director feels like a faraway nightmare we barely remember."

"How are we affording an entire house on a student budget?" 

"Shhh. This is just a fantasy, Wave," Pang says, moving to ruffle his hair. Wave swats at his hand before reaching over to pull his hair, reveling in the delighted shriek he lets out. 

"Evil. Wave is so evil."

"Shut up. Tell me more about this. Are we still Pang and Wave?" 

"Always. We don't need to hide here. We're safe."

"We're safe," Wave smiles. "Seems unbelievable, huh?"

"We are going to win," Pang says, a shift in his tone apparent. "You know that, right?" 

Wave sighs, turning to lie on his back again. "We're going to give our best."

"And we're going to win," Pang says.

"Another one of your fantasies?" Wave asks. 

"No," Pang replies softly. "In my imagination, we're away from this all, Wave. We're safe and happy and… ah, nevermind. We probably volunteer in an animal shelter on Saturdays. Have movie nights every Sundays. Have one of those chore lists stuck on our fridge." 

"I scold you for leaving the kitchen cabinets open all the time and leaving your socks everywhere."

"And I scold you for taking all my things and putting them away."

"You probably just made a mess of our living room, Pang."

"It has to look lived in," Pang insists. 

"Lived in, not like a garbage dump."

"Garbage dump my ass," Pang says, chuckling. "Then, I bring you the strawberry ice-cream that you pretend to hate as an apology."

"And I let you choose the movie," Wave replies, his heart suddenly full of the possibilities of how it would be like to live together, attend a university together, have a future mapped out around each other. 

"There we go," Pang says, threading his fingers through Wave's hair. "What a perfect world to live in."

Wave looks at Pang, the love of his entire life, and sighs wistfully. "Perfect, indeed."

+1. 

"I would've never pegged you as the last minute packing kind of person," Pang remarks, zipping open Wave's bag that lies haphazardly on the floor. 

"I was busy, okay?" Wave sniffs at Pang slowly shaking his head in his direction. 

They had all been busy, after all. The high of their victory didn't fade away with the conclusion of their exams, strengthening with every moment that convulates since that day. It was Punn's idea in the end, to take his dad's private jet to Phuket and to spend a month there at his beach house, until they've to come back and face the reality of university admissions. 

"We were all busy," Pang says, shoving his clothes in that bag. "And yet, Ohm managed to pack, and you didn't." 

"If you want to complain so much, then don't help me," Wave mutters, not even bothering to fold his clothes properly. They were to leave in three hours and half of Wave's room was still nearly arranged in place. 

"Kidding, kidding," Pang concedes, laughing. Wave tries not to dwell on how carefree Pang's laughter seems now and fails, miserably. 

Out of all the people in the world who deserved to be happy, Pang was the most deserving, after all. Wave would do everything in his power to keep him smiling just the way he does.

"I'll clear the bookshelf for you as well?" Pang asks, dusting his pants off. 

"Obviously," Wave answers, turning away, knowing that he'd only end up getting more distracted than ever if he kept looking at Pang. "Just shove them in that bag," Wave points and gets back to his clothes.  

"Yes, sir," Pang replies, doing just that. 

It's silent for a few minutes before a thud, a yelp, and a sharp intake of breath. 

"Are you okay?" Wave asks, after a minute of silence, still not turning towards Pang. 

"Yeah," comes Pang's high-pitched reply, before he clears his throat. "Just fine, but, uh… you want to live by the sea?" 

Wave's heart touches his feet. 

"You imagine us… living together?" 

Wave is frozen on the spot, the embarrassment turning his insides into hot ash. He should have thrown that letter away all those years ago; should've thrown it and burnt it until all that remained of it were the permanent ink stains crushing his heart. Except...he couldn't. Like all things related to Pang, he couldn't just throw this away. Hiding it in a book he rarely touched was, in retrospect a bad idea, was something that he could have avoided. 

He hears some shuffling until Wave's chin is lifted by Pang, his eyes full of something akin to unabashed hope. 

"Let it go, Pang," Wave says, trying to snatch the crumpled paper from his hands. "It was from two years ago." 

All the mirth from Pang's face vanishes in an instant. "Oh. Oh, okay," he whispers, something broken -- Wave, a little too frantic to notice that. 

What can Wave even say to explain himself? That he started building a future only after meeting Pang? That Pang, without fail, painted the walls of his imagination with his presence? That Pang was in every single one of the new beginnings he thought of?

"I'm sorry," Wave whispers. "You don't have to…you don't have to think about this. Or reply to this. Or anything. I value you above all and I don't care if this doesn't…mean a thing to you."

Pang continues tightly clutching onto the note. "This is addressed to me," Pang says. "Can I keep it then?" 

Wave meets Pang's eyes. "It was when you couldn't remember us," Wave explains. 

"I got that," Pang replies, his eyes lighting up again. 

"It was when you couldn't...remember me."

"I got that too," Pang replies easily. 

How much more obvious does he have to be before Pang finally gets that? 

"I like you," Wave grits out. "That is what you don't get." 

Pang takes a step towards him, Wave following suit. "I always felt a part of me missing, when I couldn't remember you," Pang says. "I think, subconsciously, my eyes always looked for yours." 

Wave is rarely ever rendered speechless. This just prompts Pang further. He takes a step forward and weaves their fingers together. "I think my eyes will always look for yours -- in crowds and empty spaces. You're the first person I think of when I wake up in the morning. I want to tell you everything and anything that crosses my mind. Do you get it?" 

"What?" Wave whispers, trying to wrap his head around the reality of it all. 

Pang leans forward to press their foreheads together, bringing their interwoven hand to his chest. "I like you too," Pang says. "I like you so much, Wave. I don't see a future for myself without you in it. In my imagination, we were always away from all this, but we were also always together."

All breath seems to have been stolen out of Wave's lungs. "You...like me?" Wave asks. 

"I like you," Pang affirms, dropping his hand and wrapping it around his waist. 

Wave leans into him, resting his head in the crook of Pang's neck, tightening his hands around him. "You like me," Wave repeats. "I like you too. I like you so much."

Pang moves his head to kiss Wave's temple. 

"Do you ever think about beginning anew?" Wave asks. 

Wave feels Pang nod. "A small house, 10 minutes from the university that we have enrolled in." 

("Well, it's 15 by foot," will say Wave, three months from now. "But I think it's good enough.")

"We live there for a year or two before moving to a bigger one." 

("We were supposed to live here for a year, at least," Pang will say, a year from now. 

"But that one is bigger," Wave will insist. "And better. You can't deny that. The faucet doesn't drip all night long despite multiple repairs there." 

"Alright," Pang will concede, kissing the top of Wave's head. "I agree.") 

"We'll figure things out," Pang says, "one day at a time."

"But, together," Wave adds. 

Pang holds him closer. "Always together."

[honourablejester]

Kindly forgive a random burst of ego, but I’m reading back through Northern Babylon, a dieselpunk LotR AU I wrote back in 2015, and … okay. I think I did pretty good on the worldbuilding? I mean, looking at it with D&D on the brain for the past year or so, I feel like the city of New Rhovanion would make a pretty good Eberron-ish campaign setting.

A Metropolis-esque dieselpunk fantasy city, built by a semi-forced alliance of elves, men and dwarves driven from their previous homes (Moria, Mirkwood) by the encroaching Southern Powers, some of them very dark (Dol Guldur).

A city of vertical layers, the vast stone-and-ironworks of the dwarves at the base, carved into the stone of the mountain the city rings, the vast transplanted forestscape of the elves at the top, a towerscape of gardens and glasshouses and aqueduct gondolas, and then the homes and markets of men in the lakeside district and the middle heights of the towers.

A city torn apart in recent memory both by the occupation by a dragon in elven disguise which temporarily drove out the dwarven and human inhabitants, and resulted in significant structural and racial damage during the insurrection that followed, and then later the results of a vast continental war that, while it didn’t do too much direct damage to the city besides airstrikes on the elven towers, still left a lot of scars.

A city struggling to rebuild itself, both in terms of buildings and relationships, in the new and sudden peace, where almost all the old enemies have been defeated, and it’s time for old grudges to possibly be laid aside and new cooperation build once again. Possibly.

Like, this bit:

The city had been spared most of the ravages of the war in the south. They'd held off Mordor's advance south of the Running, managing to avoid military occupation, though the Lake District, the still-extant swathes of Mirkwood Forest, and the surface towers of the city itself had taken some damage. The first two had been the cost of stopping the Easterling ground advance, something Gimli knew had a much higher cost in lives, dwarven, elven and human alike, than it had in infrastructure. The latter had been the result of Nazgul airstrikes relatively early in the war, before the Thornhoth Eagles had driven them back south and the land war in Gondor had taken up too much of the Witch-King's attention to bother with anything north of Dol Guldur.

The strikes hadn't done too much serious damage. Not to the structures themselves, at least. New Rhovanion's towers had held strong against dragonfire bombs less than a generation ago, things that could melt rock and steel and concrete as easily as flesh. They'd withstood the explosive anarchy of Smaug's terrorist campaign, when over half the city's dwarven and human populations had been forcibly expelled, and urban fighting in the undercity had killed hundreds more. Nazgul overflights, for all their potency as a terror weapon, just didn't have the same kind of destructive power.

They'd taken chunks out of the city-top forestscape, though. Now that he had the eye for it, Gimli could see the places where it was still under repair. Several of the vast tiered balconies and the street-spanning aqueducts had given way altogether, even now still in the process of being rebuilt, and there were a thousand strange shards of sunlight to be seen as the great glasshouses and refracting mirrors were moved and repaired across the upper city. Worse than that, though, at least for those to whom mattered, were the vast barren stretches where the forests and gardens themselves had been burned away, leaving only cold concrete, melted steel and blacked earth behind them. The great hanging gardens of New Rhovanion, the city-top cathedral of light, had apparently taken the brunt of the city's physical blows this time.

It was strange for Gimli to find himself noticing that, to find himself understanding the pain of it. Dwarves in New Rhovanion didn't spend a lot of time looking upwards, after all. They had their own section of the city to be thinking about, the vast underground mines and thoroughfares, the lower reaches of the towers and the surface streetscapes where the city monorails and the vast ironworks lived. The Ereborean District, carved back into the mountain and the rock beneath the city, its oldest and purest part, was where Gimli had spent so much of his life. It was strange for him to spend so much time looking upward, moving upward.

He'd changed, though. The war had changed him, the things he'd seen, the things Legolas had shown him. He had an idea, now, what that damage meant to the elves of New Rhovanion. He'd seen his elf's face when their train had finally pulled into sight of the city and the scars across its upper reaches had become obvious. He'd seen the blankness that had slipped into Legolas' eyes.

And somehow, because of it, here he was. Gimli Glóinson, an Ereborean dwarf born and bred, standing on a balcony on the side of the Greenwood Oropherion Tower, trying desperately not to think about how many hundreds of feet too high into the air he was. Below him, down at street level and just above it, the great central depot of the Iron Rail Company spewed trains out onto the raised tracks above Oakenshield Avenue, and lighter engines onto the magnetic monorails a few storeys above them. With the repaired mirrors on the upper reaches of the tower filling the street canyon with light almost all the way to the bottom, it was terrifyingly obvious exactly how many feet above that familiar sight he now was.

It wasn't the same, the heights compared to the depths. He'd looked into chasms hundreds of feet deep in Khazad-dûm without a qualm, the great bridge spans of the subterranean Dwarrowdelf inspiring more awe in him than terror. That had been no less of a fall. With the artificial electric suns, no less visible a one either. He knew that. It was just ... it was different up here. It was different on the surface, on one of the tallest towers in New Rhovanion, on some flimsy elven balcony that had blasted tree roots sticking out of the bottom of it. He could see half the city from here. More to the point, he could see how it was all beneath him.

He should have stayed inside, he thought desperately. He should have kept to the interior atrium. The balconies and rooftops and external terraces were the realms of the elves, but the towers that bore them all up were still dwarven construction. The internal shafts, insulated from the sheer external drop and lit exclusively by light refracted from above, had managed to stay comfortably subterranean in feel despite the best efforts of their human and elven occupants. Even the Greenwood Oropherion, the great bastion of Wilderland Elvendom, full of light and water and greenery and with as much of the exterior reaches open to the elements as elvenly possible, hadn't been able to disguise the solid, quintessentially dwarven nature of the stone it was built in.

Like. I feel like I did good there? I feel like that has teeth and potential. Heh. A dieselpunk fantasy city, with a lot of wars behind it, and a tentatively hopeful future.

And this little description of High Elven Councillor Thranduil:

He'd seen Thranduil Oropherion before, of course. Mostly in newsreels, but from a distance as well. The Elven High Councillor had a talent for being seen looking imperiously downwards from various heights, and had a particular fondness for the skycars and the aqueduct gondolas. He was easily recognisable, wearing those long, almost archaic greatcoats the elves favoured, all bronze and green, with his long golden hair bizarrely braided back with something that looked for all the world like live ivy. Even the most deep dwelling, surface-averse dwarves could recognise Thranduil on sight.

He looked a little different now. Some of it was the informality of his dress. Gimli was almost positive that few, if any, dwarves had ever seen the Elven Councillor in shirtsleeves and waistcoat before, his hair looped back into a tail that was, yes, held with an actual trailing plant, for reasons probably only an elf would know. It made him look smaller, somehow, maybe a little bit more fragile. Not quite the distant, impressive creature he usually appeared.

Why do I have so much more fun with worldbuilding and characters than I do with things like, you know, actual plot?