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#every few years i like to pick up mm again to explore the world
caiabresebun · 2 years
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paying respects
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shizuoi · 9 days
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20 Questions (for fanfic writers)
thank you for tagging me @seek--rest ♡♡♡
1. how many works do you have on ao3?
81
2. what's your total ao3 word count?
468,946
3. what fandoms do you write for?
i dabble in anything that attracts my interest, but for the last year it's been exclusively lockwood & co!
4. top five fics by kudos:
my scorching sun, show me the way (marvel's eternals)
you'll find love with me somehow (marvel's eternals)
i can see your heart beneath your ribcage (you should save it for me) (enola holmes)
prepare for trouble (and make it double) (the magnus archives)
pulling teeth behind bottom lip (山河令 word of honor)
5. do you respond to comments?
yes unless they make me uncomfortable
6. what is the fic your wrote with the angstiest ending?
i don't really write non-happy endings but you might think you've caught her (but you've blown your only shot) (tua) had an open-ended dark ending which was pretty ooc for me
7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
dskjalhsgdfjkal literally close your eyes and click on any of my fics tbh but recency bias demands the hanahaki au heartburn (l&co)
8. do you get hate on fics?
maybe once or twice but i deleted the comments immediately and haven't thought of them since. i don't tend to write in very big fandoms so i fly under the radar for the most part i think
9. do you write smut?
do i ever :3
10. craziest crossover:
i'm more an au person than a crossover person; closest thing that would qualify would be the l&co now you see me au pros and cons
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
i...think so? it wasn't a direct copy/stolen per se, but it felt heavily inspired...
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
many times!! very honored every time people ask ♡
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
TheMalapert and RainShadow07 and i have a few things cooking (katabasis, permutations, a secret new series coming up :3)
14. all time favorite ship?
oh jesus this is tough but i can't say no to some good spirk
15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
mm not sure, my interests bounce around a lot so sometimes i'll think i won't ever pick anything up again and then BAM inspo so i'm gonna cop out of this question LOL
16. what are your writing strengths?
dialogue and realistic character interactions and introspection. characters are very important to me and i always strive to do them justice by taking readers through their struggles in a compelling way that makes the outcome that much more satisfying. i also think i do a decent job at creating interesting worlds (on the surface)
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
following up with my previous answer, i'm good at ideating smaller/surface worlds, but my worldbuilding is pretty weak when you dig deeper. i do this on purpose sometimes because if i get too sucked up in the worldbuilding/situation, it throttles my ability to explore characters without feeling trapped and that really frustrates me. i have a fic im going to post this month that i did so much research for the world and parts of the character's backstory that i'm creating that i basically paralyzed myself for months because i was too afraid to write the character inaccurately in accordance with all the research i had done and knowledge i had accumulated. definitely something i would like to improve on!
18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?
when done with respect and intention, it's a very powerful tool. i have a fic that i'm writing where there's non-english dialogue and i think about this poem often
19. first fandom you wrote in?
young justice i think? (on ye olde ff.net)
20. favorite fic you've written?
til' veins run red and blue because it has a strange longevity on ao3 and every time i go back to read it just to make sure it's not bad i always emerge very pleased with myself LOL
tagging: @ohmyoverland, @synestheticwanderings, @woahpip, @dappledwrites, @lemonsharks, and anyone else who wants to partake!! consider yourself tagged ♡♡♡
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milenadaniels · 3 years
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Carve It Into Stone, 1574 words - Buck/Eddie + Chris, Sleepy Sickfic
(AO3 link)
Caught in the rhythm of routine, Eddie remembers a few moments too late that he’s meant to be entering quietly when he gets home from work. Or: a self-indulgent Buck and Chris napping together fic because of this post.
Caught in the rhythm of routine, Eddie remembers a few moments too late that he’s meant to be entering quietly when he gets home from work. The deadlock has already been turned but, wincing, he slides his key back out gently and palms the doorknob deliberately to prevent the familiar squeaks from reverberating through the house.
Once inside, he guides his duffel bag to the floor, not letting the strap clatter down as he usually would, and takes care as he bends down to unlace his boots and toe them off before padding into the living room, following the low sounds of the television.
On Thursday, Abuela asked for help figuring out the new tax software she wanted to use this year — it was very user friendly but she was very much in her 80s — and instead of subjecting Christopher to an entire afternoon and evening of boredom, Eddie asked Buck to pick him up from school and hang out until he could join them. He hadn’t known at the time that Christopher was sent home with a note saying he’d been sniffly and should be kept home until he felt better: new protocols in the mid/post-COVID-19 world.
Buck immediately got him a rapid test for COVID-19 and it was ruled out, and it didn’t present like a flu, it was just a hell of a cold. Mild fever, runny nose, body aches — the works. And Buck, who had been exposed for hours at its peak transmission period, did not escape it. Which made it handy when Eddie needed a sitter on Friday and Buck naturally had to call in sick himself.
Buck was sending him text updates all throughout his shift but they stopped suddenly a couple hours ago, so Eddie is not at all surprised to find them both out for the count.
Still, he’s not prepared to take in the sight of Buck stretched on his back, somehow fitting his 6’2 frame between each arm rest, and Christopher tucked snugly along his side, more on top of him than in the wedge between Buck’s body and the back of the couch. One of Buck’s hands is curled up by his face, while his other arm is holding Christopher to him as if there was a risk of falling. Christopher’s arm is tucked into his chest, and his head is resting against Buck’s collarbone, nearly tucked right under his chin and Eddie…
Eddie pauses.
He pauses and grapples with this picture of strength and fragility juxtaposed and blended together. Buck, built for strength and power, tenderly cradling his young son. Both of them unstoppable forces of energy and unrestrained joy, both cast down together by germs they just have to weather.
Both of them here, recovering together, safe under Eddie’s roof, under Eddie’s watch now.
He feels suddenly like he’s walked blindly into a moment in the course of his life whose significance he can’t yet pinpoint and he thinks if he just stays here, quiet, still, he might be able to reach out and understand it.
Christopher’s glasses are on the table nestled between a tissue box and two empty glasses of water, indicating one of them knew they were headed towards an extended nap before they settled in and somehow that detail tugs at his heart fiercely. To imagine Buck watching Christopher get sleepier and sleepier, carding his fingers through his curls fondly, and gently lifting his glasses off to make him more comfortable. Was he already settled against Buck by then? Or were they sitting upright until Buck started to lose his own battle with fatigue and rearranged them like this? Indulging both their need for cuddles when they’re feeling low?
It doesn’t matter, but Eddie wishes fiercely that he knew.
They’re both breathing easily enough, like most of the congestion has lifted, though he can tell by the amount of crumpled up tissues that missed the trash can Buck must have brought into the living room that they had a hell of a day with it. Their cheeks are a little flushed with fever still, and Eddie wants to check but doesn’t dare touch them for fear of disturbing them.
Instead, he takes in their pale skin, their dark curls, and their unguarded faces in sleep and marvels for the hundredth time at how improbable it is that they could look so alike and how strangely happy he is about it. By now he’s used to the guilt that accompanies this thought, and as always, spares a thought to Shannon, but then he lets himself linger on it like he doesn’t usually have the luxury of doing.
Usually their similarities strike him at the worst times: when he turns around in line to catch them making faces and laughing at being caught, and Eddie has to pretend to be grumpy and turn back around to play into their game; when they’re ordering ice cream and Eddie asks for strawberry and they both turn to look at him with identical expression of disappointment because fruit isn’t a treat even if it’s fake fruit; when he has to take a call from Carla as they’re walking into the museum and catches up to Buck and Chris just in time to hear the ticket taker say “you and your dad have fun!” because she has eyes and anyone on Earth would have assumed the same. These are moments Eddie has to let lie and move on from quickly. Moments he only gets to revisit when he’s laying in bed at night, trying to conjure up the visuals exactly as they were to reproduce the tightening in his chest he keeps experiencing, but failing every time.
But now, here, he can linger.
No, he can do more than linger.
Moving slowly as if any sudden movement could break this tranquility, Eddie slips his phone out of his pocket and double-taps the power button to bring up the camera.
He takes a single, wide-view shot of the whole couch, and admires it for a moment.
Then he zooms in on their sleeping faces and takes two more.
Three new pictures to add to the overflowing folder of pictures that will never go on Instagram.
He quickly sends Carla the wide-view shot because he feels the need to share what he’s come home to and she’s the only safe option. The only one who won’t read more into it than Eddie’s comfortable addressing.
Though if Eddie’s being truthful, he knows she’s just the only one who’ll keep it to herself until he’s ready to hear it.
Carla sends back three red hearts, and Eddie can’t help but agree.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and makes room to sit on the coffee table.
Buck’s hand is right there, open, palm facing up, waiting.
Eddie reaches for his shoulder instead, though he slips up and instead of jostling him gently like he meant to, his hand curves around his shoulder and his thumb glides back and forth against his shirt until Buck is snuffling and blinking awake.
“Hey,” Eddie says, smiling when Buck remains half-asleep, his body as relaxed as it was in sleep.
“Hey,” he croaks, gently clearing his throat and casting a nervous eye to Christopher who makes nothing of the disturbance.
“How are you feeling?”
Buck seems to mentally assess himself. “Fine, just crazy tired. Our little man here was a trooper, but he conked out a couple hours ago. Aw, shi--oot,” he looks at the television, “I was supposed to pause it when he fell asleep. I don’t remember which episode we were on.”
Eddie smiles. “He probably won’t even remember the episodes you did watch. You can start over when you’re both back on your feet.”
“Mm,” Buck hums, his eyelids already growing heavier again. “‘K.”
Eddie watches sleep take over Buck, until those tired lids are pried apart suddenly with mild alarm.
“D’you want m’to put him to bed?” Buck slurs. “Be more comfortable?”
Eddie shakes his head with a fond smile. “He’s just fine where he is.”
Buck’s eyes grow vulnerable in a way he’s been trying to hide lately when he’s in full control of his faculties, and the corner of his lips tugs up into a shy smile.
“Go back to sleep,” Eddie says, his voice pitched low to be soothing.
Buck obeys and within a couple of minutes his face is slack and peaceful, his breathing evened out, but some stray impulse shifts his hand away from his face and off the couch entirely to hang in the space between them.
Can Eddie really be faulted then for taking it in his hands and holding on for just a second — feeling the slight heat from the fever seep into his skin, feeling the curl of mildly calloused fingers against his, feeling the weight of it between his palms and deciding that he likes it, a lot?
He guides Buck’s hand back to its original resting place and doesn’t give in when his fingers want to explore the ungelled curls resting against his forehead.
He lingers, again, just one more time, and lets the knowledge that Carla’s talk will likely be coming sooner rather than later wash over him.
And by the way he only barely makes it to the kitchen before thumbing open his gallery and reviewing the three pictures he took, he figures he may just be ready for it.
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justmypartner · 3 years
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Make it Work: Chapter 1
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Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another. *Picks up at the 8x03 bar scene.
Writer’s Note: I’m so excited to share my first multi-chapter fic. I really enjoyed Hailey’s FBI episode and how seamlessly she was able to adapt to that world, so I thought it would be fun to explore how Jay might fit into that world and how different the adjustment may be for him. When writing the first chapter I was really inspired by the song (what i wish just one person would say to me) by Lany, because I felt like it fit Jay’s perspective perfectly. As much as our guy loves Hailey, he was always going to put her wishes above his own. That’s what the song is all about, so you can see a few lines inspired by the song sprinkled throughout the chapter (the title is also taken from the song). Please enjoy Chapter 1 of Make it Work!
Read on AO3 or below
“Alright. Let’s do this, rip the bandaid off. What did the FBI offer you?” Jay said straightly, trying to hide the worry that coursed throughout his entire body.
Earlier that day he had discovered the FBI had Hailey on their radar, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. After what went down with his last partner, simply hearing someone say “FBI” left a bad taste in his mouth. He wouldn’t openly admit it, but he was worried about Hailey taking the offer. Ever since she had returned from New York, she had been fairly quiet about how it went. Her feelings seemed indifferent, but part of him had to wonder why she would hide the fact that they were sending her job offers. He hated the idea of being left alone again, but ultimately he just wanted what was best for her, even if that meant moving thousands of miles away.
Jay had been seeing Hailey differently for a while. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his feelings shifted, but he knew things were different. If anyone asked, she was his partner and his best friend, but he knew deep down that she was more than that. There were even a handful of moments when he almost told her how he felt but Jay, never a man of openly expressing his feelings, failed to get a single word out every time. He had fought those feelings for so long, keeping them hidden deep in the depths of his closed-off heart, but her time away in New York proved this impossible. He had picked her up from the airport when she got back in Chicago, and the second he saw her he couldn’t deny the way she set his heart aflame. So, hearing that the FBI was trying to steal her away permanently was messing with his head. He had sat on his concern all day, but his patience was running thin.
“Mm okay. Joint level task-force, with the HIG, all interrogations, all high-level targets,” she told him, a slight smirk on her face as she awaited his reaction.
“Sure.. Sure, sure, sure, yeah, that sounds awesome,” he said sarcastically as she chuckled. “Is it good pay?” He asked her, a sense of defeat in his voice.
“Great pay. Honestly made me a little embarrassed about what we get paid,” she said with a smile. This was not what he was hoping for, but he pressed forward.
“Well, you’d probably be really good at it,” he responded, feigning support as the words killed him inside. He knew she would be good at it, there was no doubt in his mind. The job sounded perfect for her, but he just hated where it was and what it could mean for them.
“Yeah,” she muttered, pausing briefly and looking out the window as if her next words were lingering somewhere outside and she was trying to find them. “Yeah, I hope so because I told them I would take it,” she finally said, her eyes slowly traveling back to his. The smile on her face was replaced by a look of sincerity. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he clenched his jaw, trying to conceal the myriad of emotions consuming him.
“Well, I.. I’m happy for you,” he said unconvincingly before bringing his glass back to his mouth, taking a large swig of his drink. He couldn’t look her in the eye because he knew she’d be able to read right through him. So, he focused on the bottom of his glass, fingers fidgeting with the rim waiting for her to say something.
“Yeah, well I should be saying the same to you,” she told him. With this, he raised his eyes back up to meet hers and returned her words with a raised brow, sending a questioning look her way.
“I told them I wasn’t going anywhere without my partner, so they took a look at your file and they were very impressed by your background. They said if you’re good enough for me to bargain with, you must be worth having on their team,” she paused briefly and he watched her swallow hard before her next words. “Jay the offer is extended to the both of us.. that is if it is something you’re interested in,” she said, tilting her head to the side as she tried to read his reaction.
A moment of what felt like his world falling apart was now being strung back together with a sliver of hope for the two of them. Being a fed was never in any of Jay’s plans. In fact, he always found himself carrying an unwarranted detestation for them that made those government positions sound completely unappealing. He never imagined he’d be willing to give up Chicago, let alone his position in Intelligence, especially for a job with the feds, but if it meant being with Hailey he was going to consider it. Romantically or not he knew he needed her in his life and as he told her not too long ago, he would follow her anywhere.
“I- wha- I-“ he stuttered out, not being able to form a coherent word.
“Look, I know it is a lot to ask of you. I know it may not seem fair of me to offer you up like that without asking first, but the way I figured it, we’re good at our jobs and we’re good together. I mean new job, new city, it all sounded so crazy to me at first. I’ve never pictured myself anywhere outside of CPD, but then I took a step back and realized what it could mean big picture. My time in New York, the cases I was working, they showed me just how big and bad this world can be. I mean I was chasing after dudes that make guys like Darius Walker look like frickin saints. The whole time I just kept thinking, I could really see myself doing this every day. I felt fulfilled in a way I hadn’t in years, but every night I’d go home, especially after the bad ones, and I felt like something was missing. Then one night after a really bad one I was sitting in my hotel room, wallowing in the heaviness of that day and my phone rang. It was you calling to check up because you had a bad case too and you needed whatever this thing is between us that always seems to work. That’s when I realized what it was that was missing. It was you,” she shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up in a shameful smile.
“Hailey..” Jay said as his eyes glossed over with tears. He sat there silently, looking into the endless depth of her eyes and hoping the right words would come to him. His thoughts were jumbled and he was having trouble grounding himself in reality. The whiplash of thinking he was losing the most important person in his life to hearing her tell him her life wasn’t complete without him left him in a state of disorient. He was relieved when she continued on before he had the chance to stumble over words once more.  
“Look Jay, I don’t expect you to have an answer now. I just needed to tell you where I’m coming from so you’d have a full perspective to guide your decision. I know leaving Chicago, leaving our family at the 21st wouldn’t be easy, but I feel like this opportunity is something worth pursuing. I also think it’s something that would be made easier if we did it together,” she admitted, finishing her piece.
Her words echoed in his head as he seriously thought through the opportunity. Jay was wired to be a cop, to right wrongs, help victims find justice, and chase the highs of dangerous cases. He found his life’s purpose doing just that, starting in the Rangers and leading to his spot in Intelligence. He appreciated the fulfillment his work in Intelligence brought him, but what if he could do that on a much larger scale - with her by his side no less. All of a sudden he was picturing a life in New York and working at the FBI. He felt like it could make sense and it caught him by surprise, but it seemed clear.
“Do you remember when the unit was under siege and we thought it was the end of Intelligence? We had just gotten back from that major bust and we were talking about what would happen if we got shut down.. where we would go. Do you remember what I said to you?” He asked her, his newfound clarity allowed him to string a coherent thought together. She nodded in response.
“You told me you’re going where I go and that it’s hard to find a good partner,” she said softly, her eyes staying locked with his.
“I meant it then, and I mean it now. I’ve spent my whole life fighting to help people, and I like to think we’ve done some really great things in Intelligence. You were right when you said we’re good together, and if this job means we can make an even bigger difference than the one we do now, I’m all in,” he said, causing a big smile to form across her face.  
“Yeah?”
“Hell yeah. I mean I’d like to know more about the position and everything, but if you say it’s worth it, then I trust you.. we’ll make it work. Plus, our thing just isn’t the same over the phone. You’d be lost without me,” he told her with a cheeky smile, eliciting an eye roll from her.
“Yeah, you mean you’d be lost without me,” she responded, standing from her chair to grab her coat. Jay laughed and took the check before rising to put his coat on as well. As they made their way to the door, Jay turned to face Hailey as a concerned look overcame his face.
“Wait- have you planned on how we’re going to tell Voight about this?” He asked. She returned his question with an expression matching his.
“Uh ah, I didn’t get that far. I didn’t think you would actually agree to be honest.”
“Come on, we’ve built a pretty strong partnership here, at least part of you had to think there was a chance I’d say yes,” he told her.
“Yeah, no I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking the fact that it’s a job with the feds and the idea of having to wear a suit everyday would have left no room for consideration,” she said with a chuckle. She pushed her body against the door, grimacing at the sudden sensation of the cold Chicago wind against her face, leaving a suspended Jay stood in the doorway.
“Suit.. everyday.. I-“ he said upon realizing that part of the job he hadn’t considered.
“Woah, woah, woah, you already said yes, no turning back now,” she teased. He groaned and dragged his feet out the door to join her in the cold. They walked shoulder to shoulder down the street in a comfortable silence.
“That doesn’t sound so bad you know,” she said, breaking through the silence as they reached their cars. She turned to face him, her eyes carrying a glimmer he hadn’t noticed before.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“Getting to see you in a suit every day,” she said confidently before realizing the coy nature of the statement and bashfully looking away. Jay could feel the heat rush to his face despite the chilling wind blowing against him. He smiled down at his feet, hoping if she could notice the redness of his cheeks, she accounted it to the cold. There was a long pause before he brought his eyes back up to hers once again.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” she said, placing a hand on his chest lightly before passing him to get into her car.
Jay wasn’t sure where their future was going or what direction it would take them, but he knew as long as she was in his life, he was set. His eyes followed her as she got in her car and started the engine. She gave him a small wave before pulling out into the street. Yet again there he was suppressing his feelings for his partner, but this time it felt worth it. A lot in their lives was about to change, he didn’t need to add the heaviness of his feelings to the mix. He was anxious about what was to come, but he ultimately felt content with his decision.
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prideymcprideface · 4 years
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You’re Made to Obey (Dia x F!MC) Part 2/2
warnings: NSFW!
Part 1
Word Count: 1577
...
“I’m showing you how to obey.”
This is a side of Diavolo you’ve never seen before. Your breathing picks up and you squirm under his commanding gaze. With his shower ready you feel yourself regain control. A part of you longs for another order from the demon but your feelings of fear and uncertainty are quick to mask the longing.
“Would you like to join me, (M/C)?” Diavolo’s smooth voice interrupts your internal crisis. While you weren’t looking he had managed to shed his pajama pants, leaving him naked. You gulp.
“N-no,” You hate how erratic your heartbeat has become, how foggy your thoughts are. “I um, took one already today so I don’t - I don’t need-”
“Then stop looking at me like that,” He places himself directly in front of you and gently lifts your chin to meet his eyes. 
“I’m not- Like what?” You curse yourself at your barely coherent speech.
“Like your wanting me to fuck you more than I want to fuck you.” Diavolo firmly pulls you flush against his body resting his hands on your hips. “And I want you, (M/C).”
Your breath hitches feeling the demon’s erection press against you. Before you could process what was happening you felt his ravenous lips press against yours.
“Mm.” You couldn’t help the small moan from escaping. Everything around you blurs, all you can focus on is Diavolo and his hands rotating your hips against him. He bites down on your bottom lip tenderly, but hard enough to make you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to explore your mouth, deeper, with his. Your eyes flutter open as he massages your ass in his hands. You grind yourself against him, doing anything you can to bring him closer.
Diavolo’s fingers dance their way to the hem of your shirt, his rough hands skimming against your torso causing you to shiver against his touch. He slowly starts to lift the fabric from your skin. The action is enough to bring you back to reality. Diavolo frowns against your lips when you stop kissing back.
“I can’t, Diavolo, I just can’t.” You take a step back. 
“I see.” His eyes roamed your body once more. “What if this isn’t a choice? All I have to do is simply think it, and you’re mine.” He presses you against the shower door, with a large hand placed firmly around your neck. Slowly, his licks his lips, devouring the sight of you scared and helpless. His predatory gaze meets yours. Panic and tears fill your eyes, you know if this is what he wants you can’t stop him. 
He pushes himself up against you once more, teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “If you just give in, this could be enjoyable for us both, darling.” His hand still firmly on your throat eases only slightly.
“Please. No.” You choke out, your voice is barely a whisper, pleading with him. 
Diavolo’s head drops along with his hand. A pained expression momentarily paints his face.
“Wait for me in my room, (M/C).” The unmistakable glow  saturates his eyes and once more you find yourself obeying the directions without hesitation.
...
The rest of the day passes with few words spoken between you and Diavolo. You can hardly muster enough strength to meet his eyes anytime he gives you new orders. You hate to admit to yourself after each chore is fulfilled you yearn for another, to feel Diavolo’s power control you once more. Throughout every task, he’s there, watching your every move, every time your eyes meet he offers a small smile. He seems almost sweet. Almost. 
“(M/C)?” Diavolo’s voice breaks your train of thought. You hadn’t realized he had been talking. You had been preoccupied, staring at him. At his radiant smile. Realizing he caught you staring you feel a blush creep up your face.
“Hm?” Your voice cracks.
“I asked if you had finished dusting in here yet.”
“Oh.. yeah! I should’ve told you, I just got,” You clear your throat, “distracted.” Your can feel your voice strain as the demon Lord closes the distance between the two of you.
“You’re all I want, (M/C).”
His words take you aback. All you can do is stare into his golden eyes, his gaze seemingly imprisoning you. 
“Come again?” You reprimand yourself silently for your weak response. 
“Did you not hear me?” Diavolo chuckles a bit.
“Uh, no, no, I definitely did. I guess I just don’t really know what you’re talking about.” 
“Ah, let me clarify then. (M/C), I could have anything in the Devildom, anything I could possible want, that was until you arrived.” Diavolo takes your hands into his. “You’re breathtaking, everything you do captivates me. You see me for me, never once do I recall you calling me Lord Diavolo. I would do anything, give anything, just to hold you in my arms when you’re upset, to be the one to make you smile everyday. All I want, (M/C), is you.”
“I just don’t get it.” You drop your hands, staring up at him nervously. “I’m just me, Diavolo, I’m not special.”
“Oh but you are. In all my time alive, I’ve never met anyone like you.” His hands gingerly lift your head, forcing you to finally look at him. You gasp slightly at the look in his eyes, they were overflowing with adoration and passion. Your heart squeezes in your chest. 
“Kiss me.” Diavolo says, his eyes glow once more but this time it’s different. 
Slowly you gravitate towards his lips-
“That wasn’t an order.” He cuts you off right before your lips meets.
“I know.” 
You wrap your arms around Diavolo’s neck and pull him in. At last, your mouths connect in a heated, yet tender kiss. The world around you fades away as Diavolo deepens the kiss. He skillfully cups both of your thighs bringing them to close around his waist.
Before you realize it, you’re back in the Prince’s room being laid gently onto his bed. His once rough hands are underneath your shirt gently feeling every inch of your skin. You reach out to him, palming his tightening pants. 
“Hands off.” The recognizable feeling takes over your body again as your hand falls to your side. 
“Fuck.”  You whisper.
“Hmm.” Diavolo’s voice reverberates against your neck as he bites and licks up to your jaw. “Do you like obeying me?”
“Mmm,” You softly moans in approval.
His lips are back on yours hungrier than you’ve ever felt them. You squirm underneath him as he presses his clothed length against your clothed heat. After what felt like years of teasing, Diavolo finally pulls back for a moment to remove his clothing. You watch as he slowly removes each article. 
“Undress yourself for me.” Another order echoes through the room. Your body begins to comply. As you undress yourself at the same tantalizingly slow pace the demon king had, Diavolo begins to pump himself, his eyes zeroing in on your gorgeous figure before him.
As soon as your last piece of clothing joins the rest on the floor, you’re being pinned underneath Diavolo’s strong body. You buck up into him, silently begging for more. 
“What do you want?” He feigns ignorance with his question. “Tell me.”
“You- I want you.”
“Hmmm,” Diavolo hums as he rocks his hips teasingly against yours. “Not yet.”
You gasp as you feel two of his fingers abruptly enter you. He pumps into you a few times before adding a third digit, causing you to pause in your tracks of kissing up his chest and throw your head back onto the mattress in pleasure.
“You’re so fucking wet. For me.” The demon slams his fingers into you harder making the lewd sounds of your soaking core echo through the room. Your moans fall in time with each thrust of his fingers. 
You feel yourself clench around his digits as he abruptly stops. Before you can complain, Diavolo thrusts his entire length into you. He enjoys the look of shock that crosses your face. He stills against you, not wanting to hurt you any more.
“If you’re gonna fuck me- ah!” You groan as you wiggle against him, trying to urge him to move. “Then fuck me.”
“Oh?” He pulls back and slams you onto his cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You’re giving the orders now, huh?”
“Well if it works...” You’re voice trails off as Diavolo picks up the pace of his thrusts.
“You’ll regret that.” He speaks out through clenched teeth, a groan bubbles up from his chest. 
Diavolo’s pace is relentless, quickly bringing you close to the edge.
“I-I’m gonna c-”
“Don’t cum until I’m finished.” His eyes glow and the wall that was about to come crashing down fades from view. You whine in frustration.
Your writhing body, chasing an orgasm you can’t reach, pushes Diavolo to the brink. 
“Cum now!” Your body immediately convulses as you cum around the demon’s cock, spurting on his own release. With every spill Diavolo’s deep grunts are flush against your ear. Your thighs shake as he removes himself from you.
He places a gentle kiss against your forehead, you can feel him smile.
“Stay with me, (M/C).” There isn’t a trace of a command in his voice.
You beam up at him and throw yourself into his arms. “Okay.” 
He holds you close as you both drift off to sleep.
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marril96 · 3 years
Text
Out of the Woods
Chapter 5: The Cure
Characters: reader, Rowena
Pairing: Rowena x reader
Summary: An explosive argument leads to you running away and puts Rowena in danger.
Editor: @miss-moon-guardian​
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*****
Rowena was okay.
Mentally, that was. Physically, she was wounded, badly so; body littered with injuries, clothes drenched in dried blood.
But she was okay. Despite everything she'd been through, she still had it in her to tease and smile all throughout the drive home. Sam and Dean were kind enough to offer it, and there was no way either of you could refuse. Traveling back by bus or taxi would lead to questions you couldn't answer and comments you didn't have the energy to retort to.
So the Winchesters it was.
Sam helped you walk Rowena inside while Dean carried your bags, leaving them in the living room as you'd instructed him to. They offered further help, anything you needed, but Rowena was adamant that you were fine. You were big girls, and this wasn't the first time one of you had gotten hurt. You would be fine.
It wasn't a lie. You would be fine. But, as you walked Sam and Dean out and the three of you said your goodbyes, your mind kept flashing back to that horrid day in May three years ago. The day that had started out alright. That, just like today, featured a fight and you running off.
The day you'd returned, having cooled off enough, to a messed up hotel room. Furniture upturned. Blood sprayed everywhere. Rowena's charred body lying amidst the destruction.
For a moment, you could feel the putrid smell of burning flesh, and you were back there, and your heart was racing just as helplessly, just as fearfully as it had back then.
Rowena hadn't been hurt badly since then. Her injuries now couldn't compare to what Lucifer had put her through, but you hadn't had to take care of her to this extent, hadn't had to nurse her back to health, since that day.
She waited for you in the living room as you'd left her, seemingly bored out of her mind, looking through her purse absent-mindedly. She perked up as you walked in, lips grazed by a smile. Clearly happy to see you. Satisfied to have you all to herself, for as long as she wanted.
You shared the sentiment. Just like years ago, you never wanted to part from her again. Never wanted to leave her side. No matter how angry you were, how frustrated. It didn't matter anymore; nothing mattered except that she was here, she was safe, and she was yours. And she trusted you in ways she never trusted anyone in her life.
It was a privilege you took pride in.
"Okay," you said, looking her over. "Let's take your shirt off. I need to know what I'm dealing with."
Rowena raised a teasing eyebrow. "My, my. Thirsty, are we? I missed you, too, love."
"Yeah, you covered in blood is such a turn on," you deadpanned.
"You know I'd never kink-shame."
Because some of the shit she was into was too much even for the likes of you.
"I'm so blessed." It was only half sarcasm; you truly were blessed. Even with all her flaws, you wouldn't give her up for the world.
You helped her remove her blouse, slowly, patiently, taking care not to cause her unnecessary pain. Rowena let out a few hisses, but for the most part she took it as a champ. She knew it was necessary for you to get a better look at her injuries, and, though her pride surely protested it, she cooperated to the best of her ability.
To think mere years ago she would have pushed you away and insisted on handling everything herself. You were glad she knew she could count on you, that she didn't fear betrayal. She trusted you, immensely, with everything she had, and you swore to never do anything to break that trust.
Her chest and arms, thankfully, looked better than her face. There were blooming bruises, especially around her wrists, and a stray cut here and there, but nothing too extreme. Nothing that couldn't be fixed with a potion and a few days rest. And some cuddles, because whenever one of you was in need of care, emotional or physical, there was no better comfort than cuddles.
"What did he do to you?" you asked, carefully tapping around one of the cuts with a wet cloth to clean it of dried blood.
Rowena stiffened. "Horrible things."
"Such as?"
You cut tell he'd cut her. But what else had he done? Had he slapped her? Punched her? Hit her with a different sort of weapon?
From the little you'd seen before Sam and Dean had doused the cabin in gasoline and set it on fire with his body inside of it, the man had accumulated quite a little torture set. Various instruments had lined the walls. Some were strewn over a small table by the wall. A couple on the floor. All caked in rusty blood.
Clearly used on his victims.
Had he had time to try some out on Rowena?
"I'd rather not." Her voice was low when she responded. Quiet. As weak as earlier in the cabin.
You looked her in the eyes. Heart shattered with sympathy at the hurt in them, with pain, with guilt. If you hadn't started the fight, none of this would have happened.
This was the second time you'd left her, pissed to high heavens, only to find her in peril.
"Of course." You squeezed her hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to talk about."
You took care of the rest of her injuries in silence. Rowena remained compliant, never once complaining. Other than a few hisses and moans when you dabbed at a bruise too hard, she behaved, which earned her smiles and kisses.
"Good girl," you would say each time you would be done with a particularly bad wound. And she would smile because praise was her drug and she could never get enough.
Once you were done, you looked her over one more time, just to be sure, and helped her into a nightgown — picking it out, you were going for soft, comfortable, but you couldn't help finding her appealing in the black cloth that hugged her every curve just perfectly. Not even bruises and bandages could mar her beauty.
You suggested taking her to bed, but Rowena insisted on staying where she was while you worked on the potion for her. She loved watching you work. Loved observing you flipping through a spellbook and picking out ingredients, double checking the recipe to make sure you got everything right. No words left her mouth, but the proud smile she displayed said more than enough.
It was always like that. She drew immense pleasure from watching you do magic, a sense of pride. She'd passed on the knowledge, and you were using it with the same confidence she bore. The confidence she'd gained as a young witch herself, learning the ways of magic, growing the power that bloomed within her, surpassing that of the greats who'd taught her.
Your power could never match hers, but what you had was more than enough. You had skill. You weren't perfect, but you were a damn good student. Great in your own way. Better than most, because you'd been tutored by the best. No matter how in love she was with you, she wouldn't lie about something like that.
"Here you go," you said, handing her the concoction in her favorite mug.
Rowena took it with shaky hands. She inhaled, then took a sip, a small one, exploring the taste. "Mm."
"Good?"
"Excellent." Her lips widened into a smile. "I've expected nothing less from my girl."
You couldn't help a grin, cheeks flushing. Her praise was one of your greatest weaknesses.
She finished the potion in a few gulps. You left the empty mug in the sink, to be washed later, and took her to bed. You considered a shower, but given Rowena's state, you didn't want to leave her alone for long, so you just threw your clothes off and pulled on your nightwear; a shower could wait until morning.
She instantly curled against you as you laid down. Your standard position, particularly when she needed comfort. You wrapped an arm around her, careful not to hurt her. She was a fragile little thing. No matter how tough she played, she was still a person. She still hurt and bled and suffered like everyone else.
"You're the best, too," she said after a moment of deafening silence, startling you from your thoughts.
"What?"
She swallowed. Sucked in a breath, deep and steady, as if she were preparing for a marathon. "I was wrong."
That wasn't something you heard every day.
Rowena rarely, if ever, admitted she was wrong. She didn't express regret so openly. Didn't apologize for her pride was too great to allow her to lower herself to that level.
And yet…
"You're enough." Her voice trembled. "More than enough."
Oh, right. The argument. The thing that led to all this mess.
"We were both so angry," you said. Understatement of the century.
Rowena shrugged. "You were right. I do go out of my way to help the Winchesters."
Was that guilt in her voice? Regret?
Your heart jumped. "I don't think helping people is wrong. I just… I'm worried."
"Because of Samuel."
"Yeah."
As much as you disliked him, you didn't think the hunter would hurt her on purpose. But accidents happened all the time. Being around him was dangerous.
"I trust him," Rowena said.
"And I trust you," you told her. "I just…"
"I know. Anything could happen."
"Exactly."
For once she understood. You were on the same page. No shouting. No arguments. Just a conversation, one you should have had ages ago.
She squeezed your hand. "I promise you I won't die. Not permanently, at least. Samuel and I will change our fate."
Tears stung at your eyes. "That's what you keep saying, but—"
"But nothing. We will do it. I'm in no hurry to die. And I'm pretty sure he likes me enough to want me to stick around."
"It's because he doesn't live with you," you joked.
"Oi!" she said, feigning offense. Then she grew serious again. "I won't go to them as often, but I will help from time to time."
You pondered on it for a moment, weighed the pros and cons. It wasn't ideal, but it seemed like a good compromise.
As dangerous as it was, you couldn't forbid her from doing it. The last thing you wanted was to be that kind of girlfriend. You just wanted her to be safe.
"I need to do some good."
"You don't owe anyone anything."
She'd done plenty of bad in her life, but she didn't have to make up for it for the rest of her days. She didn't have to put herself in danger.
"I know," Rowena said. "But I want to do it."
"Okay." So long as it was her wish. So long as she didn't feel pressured. "But after you're all healed up, alright? I don't want you doing anything in this condition."
"I like it when you’re in charge," she teased.
"Shut up," you said, flustered.
"It's sexy."
"You're horrible."
"You love me."
"I do." Your biggest weakness. "Sometimes I wish I didn't."
"I find that hard to believe," Rowena said.
Because it was a lie. Loving her was the best thing you'd ever done.
"As if you don't love me," you retorted.
"Never said I don't."
You never tired of hearing it.
Pressing a soft kiss to her scalp, you closed your eyes and sank into peaceful sleep, the woman you loved safe in your arms. Cherished and cared for.
As lucky, you hoped, as you were to be by her side.
*****
Tags: @werewolfbarbie​​ @oswinthestrange​​ @songofthecagedmoose​​ @apurdyfulmind​​ @getthesalt-sam​​ @metallihca​​ @salembitchtrials​​ @jay-eris​​ @hellsmother​​ @elizabeth-effie​​ @shadowgirl-vsb​​ @rowenaswife​​ @wonderifshelikesroses​​ @xfireandsin​​ @liddell-alien​​ @hotdiggitydammit​​ @lae-lae​​ @darkhumorsblog​​ @angel7376​​ @cherrypierowena​​ @evil-regal-vampiress​​​ @hellbentredhead​​​ @angel-e-v-a​​​ @a-queen-and-her-throne​​​ @carryon-doctor-lock​​​ @fangirlxwritesx67​​​ @mintymarshmellows​​​ @midnight-lestrange​​​ @osterhagen​​​ @impala-1979​​​ @gracib16​​​ @feelsandotps​
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nice-kill-tanaka · 3 years
Note
If it's not to much trouble may i have a (male) host club matchup please. Im a Capricorn, my mbti type is infj-a/infj-a. I tend to be shy around new people but I can be somewhat loud around people who Im close to. My pronouns are she/her. I have long-ish length brown hair, green eyes, wear round glasses and have pale skin. I have a lot of freckles. My height is 5'0 I like to read books and also cook and bake food. Im not very athletic and im not a big fan if sports but I love to go roller/ice skating. I also have been playing the violin for 6 years. And I like to garden. I also like to watch nature/animal documentaries. I love animals and in planning on becoming a wildlife veterinarian. Some things I dislike are people who bend/ruin my books and people who talk over me when I try to speak. I hope this is ok, sorry if I spelt anything wrong. I hope im not bothering you :) also I hope the information I sent in is ok :)
[🌄 @armin-ocean-eyes​ requested one (1) regular Ouran High School Host Club matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]
Taurus INTJ-t here 😗✌️So,,,,hi I guess! Also, since you are two (2) inches shorter than me, I am legally obligated to adopt and protect you. I apologize if I use gender neutral pronouns for you. That’s just my default!
Anyways, I have just the guy for you:
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
🌓Kaoru Hitachiin🌓
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(Please tell me this is Kaoru, gifs are stupid 😭😭😭)
🌱Humble Beginnings🌱
You are the daughter of the C.E.O. of a successful publishing agency
You were no stranger to the wealthy lifestyle. But, your parents made it a point to not let you become vain, lazy, or unsympathetic to the human condition
I’m not too sure if there’s an actual term for this, but a thing I like to call “right-brained intellectualism" was emphasized in your household. Basically, the ability to classify complex human emotions and not only understand them. But, view them through the lenses of objectivity and abstract concepts (Hence, the “right-brained” part)
The goal was to instill curiosity in you to explore how different personalities act in different situations and why. This could ultimately help you guide your social interactions in the future
(Forgive me if I'm speaking over your head! This information serves a purpose I promise!)
So, essentially super-charged EQ
But, here's where it comes in handy:
Due to your reserved tendencies, you weren't that high on Ouran's social ladder. Especially in middle school. You tried your best not to pay that fact any mind, reminding yourself to always pack an extra novel in case you finished your current one during the day
But, the (sort of) benefit to having so much time on your own, was that you had plenty of time to observe the students around you. Their actions, quirks, and relationships
Two particular oddballs caught your eye
Brothers. Identical twins that seemed to want no company than that of each other
You knew they had names. You knew what they were. But, not being able to pin a name to an identical face made that fact lose meaning
They didn't have any friends (Which wasn't a hyperbole). But, neither of them seemed shy, like you were
Rather, they were the asocial types. And you saw secondhand that they went out of their way to keep their little world for only them
You had accidentally seen one day what they did to girls that dared to confess their feelings for one twin. And that only reaffirmed that trying to figure out why the Hitachiins acted the way they did was too much pressure for your meek little heart
But...still.
There weren't any surface level answers to reach for that could calm your curiosities (Other than just passing the Hitachiins off as jerks and moving on). You could tell their reasoning was much more complex
And that. Frustrated you
To ease your mind, you wanted to start off small: Learn which is Hikaru, and which is Kaoru
One day, just before the lunch period started, you had finished your current novel. But, when you reached for the extra book in your bag, it had ✨vanished✨
You panicked a bit. You knew you packed the book. You re-checked earlier in the day!
The teacher unfortunately noticed you looking around like a lost puppy, asking what was wrong
"Mm?? Oh- uh...I just lost my book. It's, y'know, it's fine! I'll just...look for it later..."
The teacher didn't pick up on how embarrassed you were, asking the class if someone wanted to help you look
You were surprised when someone actually raised their hand
And just your luck, it was one of the twins, who turned to his brother and reassured him that they'd see each other at lunch
You (lowkey paralyzed by fear) followed the Hitachiin's lead, waiting until the rest of the class had left the room to begin your search
But, as you started to sift through the shelves in the back, you felt the boy tap your shoulder
And there it was in his hand, the first edition book on botany you had gotten for your birthday not too long ago
"You...you found it already??"
He rubbed the back of his neck, more bashful than you would've pegged him for
"Kind of…? I took it during class. I thought your reaction would be funny, but it was sort of just hard to look at. It would've just been cruel to embarrass you more in front of everyone."
"Oh...well, thanks for telling me at least."
The boy raised an eyebrow, your reactions catching him off guard once more
"You're not mad?"
"Not really. You realized your mistake and that's more than some can say. So, I can forgive that."
"Hm...well, I should get going. I can't keep him waiting!"
Before he left, you called out to him, asking for his name
"Hm? Kaoru."
🌳Flourishing Love🌳
The start of you and Kaoru's romantic relationship actually began in high school
The (in)famously idealistic Tamaki Suoh had approached you, Hikaru, and Kaoru to be a part of his new "host club". The twins as a part of the service, you as the manager (To garner male financial support, of course :D)
Since you weren't involved in a club anyway, you agreed to join next semester for your first year of high school
Once Haruhi came into the picture, you became fast friends. Seeing as you were both practical souls, if not intellectual
Through your friendship with Haruhi, you got closer to the twins you were so afraid of all that time ago
Especially Kaoru, the twin you had spoken to first
Both of your crushes formed rather fast as you got to know each other personally (And since Hikaru was already starting to take interest in Haruhi)
Kaoru had fallen for the way you never made face-value judgements of people. Like how you were so understanding about his dumb prank on you just last year
He learned to love the bright rays of passion that shone through your timid exterior. The way you talked about the things you loved like they were the greatest things in the world. You always made your case with such conviction, and Kaoru couldn't help but believe you all the way
You, Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru were hanging out in the courtyard one day, and Kaoru had managed to get you to talk about the flora and fauna in the area (Which quickly segwayed into how you loved gardening and caring for animals)
All the while, Kaoru intently listened, staring at you like you were the only person in the world
During a pause in your avid canine classification spree, Kaoru picked up a few cornflowers that had fallen from a bush, putting them in your hair and behind your ear
While you were blushing up a storm, Kaoru bluntly, but sweetly, confessed
Hikaru and Haruhi looked on, endeared that the two sweetest souls in their little group had finally gotten together
In your relationship, you manage to draw out the more relaxed and mature side of Kaoru's personality
(Though, you always get a good laugh out of his more cunning and mischievous side)
You always affirm to him that he can enjoy both sides of being a twin, and being his own unique person. He doesn't necessarily have to choose
Kaoru definitely takes advantage of your height difference, using you as an armrest at the most inopportune times
He loves to kiss each and every one of your freckles (At least, on your face and neck). No matter what you think of them, he sees them as little targets to go for when he wants to shower you with love
But, like a respectful boy, he always lets you take off your glasses first if you need to
You guys went ice skating for your first date! Since it was your hobby, you paid for skating, and Kaoru paid for food afterwards. Kaoru knew how to skate, but pretended not to so he could have an excuse to hold your hands
Kaoru found out about your violin training later in the relationship, immediately teasing you about playing for one of the host club's sessions at some point
He has undoubtedly picked up a disturbing amount of animal facts from you and the documentaries you watch. He shares them with the host club to get disgusted reactions from them, and flattered smiles from you 😊
Y'all are just so freaking cute together, I need to chug salt to get the sweetness out of my mouth ❤️
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[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan
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avengerscompound · 4 years
Text
Catch and Release - 13
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Catch and Release: A Captain America Fanfic
Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count:  2785
Rating:  E
Square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ - "It's probably too late to go to the bathroom right?”
Warnings:  Smut (MMF bisexual threesome.  Oral sex, Anal fingering, Double penetration - vaginal and anal)
Synopsis: When you overexert yourself on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the boys admit to having fantasies that involve you.  Fantasies that you share.  But with one Super Soldier needs intimacy and the other is still dealing with being touch starved, exploring those desires without anyone catching feelings is a little tricky.
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Chapter 13: Return to the Wild
The two weeks you had between accepting the new job in LA and actually going out there to do it, were intense.  It felt that the only free time you had was when you were asleep and that had been lacking really.  Hill was a hardass about you learning what you needed to know before you left, and there was a lot to learn.  Even with the fact you understood the paperwork and there would be your very own AI named Jocasta there was a mountain of procedures and protocols to learn.  Not to mention you were now being let into Hill’s secret underground world of moles and networks.  Every workday was two to three hours more than average.  Then you’d spend a couple of hours on the internet or phone organizing your things being moved into your new home and office or talking to Clint about leads that would need following when you go there.
Then when you were finally done with all that, you’d go spend time with Bucky and Steve.  You’d had sex with them almost every day since talking over whether you should take the job or not.  Partially the three of you were making the most of the last time you have available to you.  They were your best friends and you wanted to make the last days you had together count.  Even outside the sex you were eating and watching movies and playing board games.  Steve sketched a picture of the three of you together to take with you while you and Bucky played Mario Kart against each other.  There was the sex though, it was stupid to pretend you weren’t going up there to squeeze every last ridiculously fun drop out of the arrangement you had.  This was it.  Maybe when you visited New York again you might hook up, but more than like you wouldn’t.  Who knew what things would be different by then anyway.  They might decide to adopt a child.  You might have met someone finally.  It was best to act like this was the last hurrah.
Not to mention, they’d been patiently preparing you for your request.  Each night there had been some anal play.  First getting you used to the sensation to make sure that was definitely something you wanted, and then training you with thicker and thicker devices so when you did take one of them you’d be ready.  It was something they each had experience with given how well endowed they both were and the fact until each other neither had ever been had anal sex before.
You were grateful for it.  Up until now, you had led the show.  It was nice seeing them being the smug ones.  Well, Steve more than Bucky.  Bucky was cocky whether he earned it or not.
By the time the going away party was being held on the party deck, you were exhausted.  You’d attended a few parties hosted by Tony Stark, but this was the best attended you’d seen.  Clint was one of the originals and everyone old and new wanted to see him off.  There were people there that weren’t officially Avengers who had just worked with Clint or the team from time to time and Tony and Pepper had shown up.  The room was noisy and alcohol flowed freely.
You sat at the bar watching Clint absolutely destroy anyone who came near him at darts while you nursed a drink.  You didn't want to get drunk tonight.  You wanted to go away tomorrow remembering absolutely everything.
“You keep an eye on my bird for me, won't you?” Natasha said coming over and stepping behind the bar.  She started fixing herself a drink as she kept her eyes on Clint.
“Can I ask why you didn't take the job yourself?” You asked, turning your attention to Natasha.  “I know he must have had you at the top of the list.”
Natasha gave a small shrug and dropped a cherry into her martini glass.  “I'm not sure I could take orders from Clint and I would hate to undermine him,” she said.  “And I know what Hill’s job entails and it's not for me.  Don't get me wrong, I'd be amazing at it, but I have enough pokers in a whole slew of fires as it is, I don't want to juggle that level of responsibility too.”
“Aren't you going to miss him though?” You asked.
“Yeah, of course, I am.  I'll probably end up visiting all the time anyway.  And who knows?  Maybe I am more codependent than I'd like to admit and I end up just joining the team,” she said swirling a stick in the shimmering pink liquid.  “I did once follow a man to California.  It didn't work out so well.  But what about you?  You're leaving your super-soldiers behind.”
You looked over to where Steve was playing a game of pool with Sam.  “They aren't mine,” you said.  “But yes, I'll miss them.  I'm gonna miss all of you.  But them especially.  Steve told me you gave them the shovel talk too.”
Nat took a sip of her drink and nodded.  “You all did better than I thought.  I was sure by now there would have been some drama or you'd be living together.”
“They’re good people.  They weren't going to hurt me.  They'd have stopped it before it got that far,” you explained as you turned back to her.  “And they're not mine.  I've known that all along.  They're my friends and they were safe but it's time to join the real world.”
Natasha smiled and raised her glass.  “To losing our fuck buddies,” she said playfully.
You laughed and clinked your glass against hers.
When the party started to wrap up Natasha collected up Clint and dragged him off (though far from reluctantly) to do what you assumed was in the ballpark of what your plans were for tonight.  You took it as a queue to go seek out Bucky and Steve.
They were cuddled up on a recliner looking out over the city.  It was rare seeing them with their guards down so low in public, but then a lot of people had left and most of the people left were friends rather than acquaintances.
Bucky held out his hand to you when you reached them and pulled you down on top of them.  “Did you have fun?”  Bucky asked.
“Yeah, it’s been good seeing everyone,” you agreed.  “Could have done without the ‘moving forward’ speech.”
Bucky started laughing while Steve swatted your thigh.  “Too bad, I’m the boss, and I’ll do as many boring speeches as I like,” Steve teased.
“You gotta get one last one before you go anyway or you’ll start missing them,” Bucky added.
You chuckled and curled in against them both.  “Yeah, I’m gonna miss them.  I bet Clint will give completely different speeches.”
“They’ll include puns and mentions of getting pizza after,” Bucky joked.
Bucky’s hand slid up your thigh and he nosed at your neck.
“You want to head down to bed?”  Steve asked you.
“Mm… you make that sound so innocent, Stevie,” Bucky rumbled.  “What she wants is to have us fuck her so hard it takes her through until next year.  Isn’t that right, darlin’?”
“I wouldn’t not like that,” you said, stifling a laugh.
“Don’t be modest now,”  Bucky growled against your ear.  “You want to be pinned between us as we both rail into you, don’t you?”
“Mm-hmm…” you hummed, wriggling on top of them.
“Alright, enough flirting,” Steve said, getting up.  “We’re all sure things and we know it.”
You and Bucky followed him to the elevator.  Bucky pulled you against him as you rode it down, and he kissed your neck from behind as his hands slid up under your shirt and massaged your breasts.
You moaned softly and Steve turned to you and leaned down, kissing you deeply.  It was annoyingly brief though, as the elevator stopped on Steve and Bucky’s floor and the doors opened.
As soon as you got into their apartment the three of you started shedding your clothes, leaving them in a trail from the door to the bedroom.
Steve spun you to face him when you were down to just your underwear and he kissed you hungrily Bucky moved up behind you and as Steve unhooked your bra Bucky slid your panties down to the ground.  Steve’s hands ran down your back to your ass and he lifted you.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled your hips against him.  He was still in his boxers and his cock pressed against you through the thin fabric.
Bucky picked up the lube from the bedside table and squeezed it on his fingers.  He came up behind you and as you ground your hips against Steve as he massaged the lube on your asshole.  You moaned loudly and tried to relax, popping your ass out toward him.  Steve held you in place, kissing your neck and sucking at your earlobe as Bucky slowly eased first one finger into your ass and then another.  You tensed and rocked against him, rubbing your aching cunt against Steve’s clothed cock as Bucky slowly and gently fucked your ass with his fingers, stretching you in readiness for what was to come.
When Bucky took his hand away you mewled needily and rocked your hips against Steve.  Steve responded by lifting you.  You shrieked as he raised you up above his head and guided your legs over his shoulders.   You grabbed fistfuls of his hair and linked your ankles at the back of his shoulders.  “Steve!” You squealed as you tried to steady yourself.
Steve didn’t answer, he just buried his face into your cunt and began to eat you out like a starving man.  His tongue swirled around and wide, lapping at your folds and dipping inside of you.  You moaned and held on, your legs trembling and your heart hammering in your chest.
Bucky moved up behind you, putting his hand on your back.  “Relax,” he soothed.  “We’ve got you.  You’re not gonna fall.”
You relaxed as best you could and Steve began to focus on your clit.  His fingers dug into your thighs as he held you in place.  Bucky’s hand stayed on your back and your let yourself lean against him a little, though your hands stayed firmly tangled in Steve’s hair.  With each jolt that ran through you, you’d moan and pull on Steve’s hair and he would, in turn, moan into your cunt.
Adrenaline coursed through you, heightening your senses and making everything more intense.  Your clit twitched with every flick of Steve’s tongue and your muscles clenched and spasmed.  Your orgasm built and when it broke, it crashed down on you making your legs kick out and your hips buck against Steve’s face.  “Fuck!” You screamed arching back.
Bucky caught you and helped lower you down, taking you in his arms and moving to the bed with you.  You felt high on a mix of adrenaline and endorphins and you were still panting when Steve and Bucky rolled on condoms and got into position on the bed.  You straddled Bucky’s waist and with shaky legs, you lowered yourself down on his cock.  He watched on as you rolled your hips in a figure of eight while seated firmly on him.  Steve moved up behind you and kissed your neck you leaned back against him and captured your lips.  He moaned into your lips and rutted against your ass, his hands sliding up your stomach to cup your breasts.  When you broke the kiss you lay down over Bucky, pressing your body against his.
Bucky’s arms wrapped around you and held you close.  “You sure this is what you want?”  He whispered against your ear.
“Yes, please,” you begged.  “Give it to me.”
Steve pressed his palm to the middle of your back and squeezed more lube on your ass.  The head of his cock pressed against your tight hole and he eased it in.
You keened and curved your back at the burn in your ring muscle as his cock stretched you.  Bucky began to thrust his hips up into you, distracting you from the pain that was blossoming and changing it too.  Steve was patient, he took his time to let you adjust.  When you began to relax he began to thrust.
You were full to breaking and it felt like a wildfire was running through your veins as your two best friends thrust into you, giving you the thing you had asked for and brought you apart doing it.  They held you between them and kissed your neck and back and caressed your skin.  Your second orgasm of the night hit you hard, you screamed out with it and shuddered between them.  Bucky grunted but he kept thrusting, fucking you through it.  That high feeling you had deepened.  Your head felt floaty and soft while your body crackled and buzzed.
“Oh god,” you mewled.  “You feel so good.”
“So do you, darlin’,” Bucky soothed, stroking your hair.
With another cry, you came again, your core clenching and squeezing them tight.  Bucky jerked up hard into you and groaned loudly as your orgasm dragged his over too.  You could feel the pulse of his cock as he emptied into you.
Steve kept thrusting into your ass, but he wasn’t too far behind, he leaned forward and his thrusts shallowed.  “Steve,” you whimpered.  “Steve, come on my back.”
Steve groaned and got up on his knees.  He pulled out and pulled off the condom, tossing it hastily into the wastebasket by the bed as he jerked himself off.  He made a soft grunt sound and released, painting your back in hot ribbons.
You collapsed down on Bucky, breathing heavily and he gently ran his fingers through your hair.   “Good?”  He whispered.
“So good,” you hummed.
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The following day you had breakfast with Steve and Bucky before going to your apartment to shower and pack up the last of your things.  When you went down to meet Clint at the Quin Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Rhodey, Wanda, Vision, and Bruce were all there to see you off.  You and Clint hugged them each in turn and when you got to Steve and Bucky they both engulfed you in their arms at the same time.  “I’ll be coming to check things out in a month,” Steve said. “But you’ll hear from me before then.”
“Yeah, I know,” you said with your face pressed against his chest.
“Did we ever thank you for … you know… everything?  What we did together… I think for most people, that stays as a fantasy.  I’m so grateful that we got to explore that with you.”  Steve said.
You pulled back and looked up at him.  “We did it together, Steve,” you said. “I got just as much out of it as you.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss on your forehead.  “Still.  Thank you.”
You kissed his cheek and turned and kissed Bucky.  “Take care of yourself, darlin’.  And call us tonight.”
“Will do,” you agreed. “Talk soon.”
“Come on slowpoke, we have air currents to catch!” Clint called.
“Shit, alright!”  You called back.
“Fly safe,” Steve said and hugged you one last time.  You waved to everyone as you followed Clint onto the jet.
He got into the cockpit and began the take-off procedure and you took the seat beside him.   “I thought we’d be flying with the kids,” you said as you went through the procedure with him.
“They went via America Chavez express.  They’ll have completely trashed the place by the time we get there.  Unfortunately, the jet needs to come too, so we have to do it the old fashioned way,” Clint explained.
“This is old fashioned?”  You teased.
“In comparison to teleporting it is,” Clint laughed.  “You ready?”
You looked at him and smirked.  "It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?”
“Not to worry,” he said as the jet took off.  “There’s a really horrible one back there if you need it.”
“Oh good,” you said, laughing with him.
“Oh and,” Clint said, looking at you through the side of his eye.  “If you’re looking for another fuck buddy.  My card is now open.”
You snorted and nudged him.  “Gee, thanks, Clint,” you said.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He patted your leg.  “We’ll be alright.  Besides, there’s In and Out.  Get a few of them in you and you won’t even remember what you were missing.”
You broke down into laughter and relaxed back in your chair.  It was time to look forward and start your new life.
~ END ~
280 notes · View notes
breakyeol · 4 years
Text
Heart Glow | 01
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masterlist
01 | 02
☆ pairing: chanyeol x reader | ft. baekhyun
☆ genre: alien AU, fluff, smut (next part)  
☆ summary: No, you didn’t witness an alien spacecraft crash in the middle of the woods. No, a half dead person’s heart did not start glowing. And no, that person was not an alien. Because aliens don’t exist… right?
☆ word count: 7.3k 
A/N: shiiii hello. so... i did this. I did a crap job editing so sorry for any grammar or spelling errors in advance. this is the first part of a two or three part series, depending on the length of the next part. ALSO, i made the moodboard thingy so plz don’t repost w/o crediting me :( thank you lovelies, hope you enjoy! 
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“I can’t believe you tricked me.” 
“I didn’t trick you!”
“You said we were going to get ice cream!” Baekhyun hissed from the passenger’s seat, arms crossed angrily over his chest as a pout teased his bottom lip. 
You gestured towards the empty ice cream carton sitting in his lap. “Which we did! And now we’re going camping.” 
“You conveniently seemed to have left that part out. This could be considered kidnapping, you know. I could probably sue you.” 
A deep scowl contorted your features as you swung a brief glare in his direction. “Hey! This was my last resort, okay? You promised to go camping with me a while ago! But every time I tried to bring it up you suddenly had plans.” 
“What can I say? Byun Baekhyun is a man in high demand. It’s not my fault I’m so popular.”
A loud scoff had him pinning you with a stinging glare. “You don’t even have any other friends besides me, Baek.” 
“Not true!” 
“Name three.” You retorted swiftly. 
“Kyungsoo, Jongdae, and Minseok,” he smirked triumphantly. 
You took a big breath. “Kyungsoo literally can’t stand you because of that one time you dropped his new phone in your sangria. Jongdae only tolerates you because you work at the same company. Minseok is my friend, not yours. And he doesn’t like you either because of that time you dyed his hair hot pink,” you exhaled, matching his smirk with one of your own, “Try again.”
He spluttered in disbelief, at a loss for words before he finally managed to spit out some form of a reply. “That last one was an accident! It was meant for you!”
“Exactly why I’m your one and only friend.,” you snapped, detaching one hand from the wheel so that you could reach over and flicking his forehead, “because I’m the only person on this planet that can tolerate your bullshit.”
“Whatever,” he scowled, and, knowing he wasn’t going to be winning this argument, smoothly changed the subject, “What’s with the sudden camping trip anyways? You barely ever even want to leave your bed.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that. 
In the past, the idea of camping would not have been very appealing. You would have much preferred the warm company of your bed to a thin, cold sleeping bag.You weren’t the type to step out of your comfort zone too frequently. You enjoyed your little bubble, it was safe and happy and familiar. There was no reason for you to go out of your way to try new things or explore the world. You had everything you needed with your job at the bakery, your cozy apartment, your close knit circle of friends. You were content.
But for whatever reason, your head had been feeling rather off these past few months. Like there was something that you were missing. Laying in bed all day was no longer fulfilling, only leaving you drained, dissatisfied, and scoured with the feeling that you’d just wasted precious hours of your life binge watching unrealistic shows and movies. 
This sudden change left you confused and grasping helplessly for answers. 
You’d tried changing little things at first; redecorating your apartment, going out more often to bars or clubs, buying a membership to a gym, et cetera. It was satisfying for a moment, a short lived gratification to make a difference in your life. But it all just felt pointless in the end. It all ended up feeling like white noise. And that little nagging voice in the back of your head grew more and more relentless. 
Figuring out what could possibly soothe it proved to be the biggest challenge you've faced since trying to figure out what college you could attend in your high school years. 
Until you had an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t something you needed to change… but something you were missing. What exactly it is that you’re missing, you’re still not quite sure of. But hopefully getting away from the noisy city and getting some fresh air and a much needed escape into nature would help clear that up, especially with the help of your beloved best friend Byun Baekhyun at your side. 
“Honestly, I don’t know. I just felt like it was time to do something a little out of my usual daily routine,” you paused, brows furrowing as a sudden thought struck you, “you ever get that feeling like you’re going in circles?” 
“Circles?” He repeated, confusion clear in his voice. “What do you mean?” 
“I mean—“ you stopped abruptly and chuckled softly, shaking your head as you realized it would be impossible to try and untangle the mess of thoughts in your head and lay them out for him, “never mind. It’s too hard to explain.” 
“No, tell—”
“We’re here!” You exclaimed loudly, voice bubbling with excitement as you spotted the sign indicating the beginning of the camping grounds. Pulling into the parking lot, you were shocked to find it completely empty. “Are we… the only people here?” 
“Are you surprised? Who the hell camps anymore?” You decided to ignore his remark, instead, parking and hopping out of your car, before looking over at him with an excited grin. 
“More forest for us then,” you chirped happily, and he groaned, “Come help me unload the trunk. I want to have everything set up before it starts getting dark out.”
Baekhyun scowled as you slammed the door, before sighing dramatically in defeat and unbuckling his seat belt. “This is going to be a long night.”
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“When the hell did you have the time to go buy all this camping shit?” Baekhyun grunted, face red with sweat glistening on his brow as you hauled the equipment up a particularly unforgiving hill. You’d somehow convinced —ahem, threatened— him to carry the bulk of the stuff you’d brought, while you got off easy with only carrying your bags and a folding chair.
You shot a light grin at him over your shoulder, shrugging vaguely. “You’d be impressed by how much free time I gained by not sleeping in until two in the afternoon.” 
Baekhyun chuckled dryly, shaking his head as he peered after you in wonder, “you amaze me.” 
You grinned as you looked back at him, only to see that he’d begun to fall quite far behind, exhaustion clear on his features. “Pick up the pace slowpoke! We’ve still got a little more ground left to cover!” You called, laughing as he groaned dramatically and staggered on forward, trying his very best to catch up with you. 
“You enjoy my suffering, don’t you?” He huffed.
“Mm, you know I love it, baby.” You winked, biting your lip as your brows wiggled suggestively. He picked up the first thing his fingers could find off the leafy ground (luckily a small twig and not a rock) and chucked it at your head. 
“Hey! Throwing things is not a solution for your inner rage,” you scolded, squeaking in surprise as he suddenly surged forward, trying to make a grab for you. You dodged out of the way just in time and began booking it up the hill as fast as your admittedly sore legs would carry you, Baekhyun close on your heel with determination burning in his eyes. 
You all but flung yourself to the ground once you reached the peak, laughing breathlessly, sweat glistening on your face, body aching and tired from the exertion, but the feeling of accomplishment warded away any negativity that threatened your mindset. 
Baekhyun staggered up after you, looking even more exhausted than before, face also completely red and knees visibly weak under the weight of his body combined with the mass of the equipment. When he saw you laying on the ground, he dropped everything he’d been carrying and collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath as he blinked sweat away from his eyes. 
“Are we…” he swallowed as his raspy voice cracked faintly, “here?” 
A grin broke out across your features as you turned your head, finding him already looking at you hopefully. “We’re here,” you confirmed, heading shifting so that you could stare up at the beautiful blue sky peering shyly through the thick green canopy above you. 
“Thank fuck,” he croaked, and you cackled. 
For a few minutes, you laid in comfortable silence (a rare blessing when hanging out with Baekhyun), catching your breath and recuperating from the hike to this special little spot in the woods. 
“Have you been here before?” He suddenly asked, turning to look at you, dark eyes blinking curiously. 
You nodded, smiling nostalgically. “Yeah. My dad and I used to come out here once a year during the summer for a day or two.”  
“No wonder it seemed like you knew where you were going,” he chuckled softly. 
“We came to this exact spot, you know. Because when the sun sets, you have the best view of the stars,” you sighed dreamily, hands rising above your face as you pictured the midnight blue sky riddled with winking stars, “it’s seriously beautiful, Baek. One time I even saw a shooting star.” 
“Did you make a wish?” 
You scoffed in disbelief, turning to look at him with a lopsided grin. “What do you take me for? Of course I did.” 
He laughed softly, “did it come true?” 
You sighed thoughtfully, eyes squinting against the bright blue sky. “No. Not yet.” 
Looking back, you still remember exactly what you’d wished for. But you’d been so young then, so naive and hopeful and, admittedly, pretty dumb. 
It was an unrealistic wish. 
But you couldn’t stop your heart from wanting it, even now. You’d wished for something that most people found unattainable, something only the luckiest of the lucky were able to have, and able to keep. And, especially in these past few months, the universe seemed astonishingly adamant on showing you just how mind bogglingly unlucky you were. 
“Okay!” You exclaimed abruptly, and Baekhyun jumped in surprise, head swinging around to watch with wide eyes as you pushed yourself off of the ground, swatting any dirt that clung to the back of your black leggings. “That’s enough time wasted. Time to set up.”
“Y/n~” Baekhyun whined in protest, flopping back onto the ground as a heavy pout tugged at his lips, “can’t we rest for a little more? My legs still feel like they’re about to fall off.” 
“Nope!” You sang, grabbing his wrists and pulling him upright, ignoring him as he objected loudly. “There’s much to be done before we can relax. Here, we'll set up the tent first and then the fire pit. It won’t take too long, I promise.” 
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“Not long my ass.” Baekhyun snapped, glaring at you. 
“Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know shit about how to properly put up a tent!” You hissed, thrusting an accusing finger in his direction. 
“Why the fuck would I need to know how to put up a stupid tent? You’re the one that dragged us out here in the first place! Take responsibility instead of blaming me!” He bit back harshly, arms folding stubbornly across his chest while he sassily cocked a hip. 
You rolled your eyes, exhaling heavily at his childishness. “We got it done. That’s what matters.” 
Well, you got it done– but you weren’t adamant on starting any more unnecessary arguments with Baekhyun. You’d gotten more than a day’s worth or arguing done in just the last hour while trying to set up your campsite. You dragged him out here to relax, to take a break from any and all things stressful and annoying. You probably should have kept in mind that Baekhyun was, in fact, one of the most annoying people you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. But you loved him, so it was okay. 
You flopped down on one of the log benches encircled the fire pit, letting out a long breath as you tilted your head back and inhaled deeply, a nostalgic smile flickering at the corners of your lips. The musky scent of the smoke you brought back memories you’d thought you’d long forgotten, if the long nights spent laughing and joking with your dad into the early morning, until you both collapsed from exhaustion with bellies full of s’mores and cheap hot cocoa. They were nice memories. But they made you sad. The kind of sad that felt like a heavy stone had been dropped on your chest. 
Baekhyun dropped down beside you, and you felt his shoulder nudge up against yours. Peeling open your eyelids, you glanced over at him with a raised brow. 
“What did you mean earlier?” 
You blinked at him. “What?”
“When you said the thing about circles?” He elaborated, throwing in a circular hand motion for good measure. 
“Circles?” You pondered for a moment before finally recalling the conversation you’d been having in the car before you arrived. “Oh. That. Well… I don’t think I can really… it’ll just sound stupid once I actually try to say it out loud, and explaining it would be too complicated—”
“Try.” 
You opened your mouth, about to give a smart aleck reply, but then you met his gaze. There was something so sincere in his dark eyes, something pleading. He wanted to know what was on your mind, what was bothering you. He wanted to help you. You felt an unexpected warmth in your chest, a gratefulness swelling up inside of you. 
In spite of his obnoxious, playful nature, Baekhyun was one of the most genuine people you’d ever met in your entire life. He was honest, thoughtful, and loving. He had a good heart. And although you’d never admit it out loud, because you’d never hear the end of it from him, you were very glad to have him as your best friend. Maybe one day you’d tell him everything he meant to you. One day, when his incessant teasing wouldn’t be so brutal and he wouldn’t rub it in your face with that stupid lopsided grin on his face every chance that he got. 
And so, regardless of not quite understanding your internal turmoil yourself, you tried your very best to explain it to him. To put into words the confusing emotions and thoughts that were running amuck in your head. You bore your every thought, every worry, every trouble, not missing a single detail if you could help it. You laid it all out for him, as best you could without sounding completely insane. 
There was a brief pause when you finished, the only sound was the low cracking of the flames as  they playfully danced before your eyes. It made you feel anxious. But there was also a sense of unparalleled relief to have finally gotten all of that off of your chest. 
“Maybe you’re lonely.”
You were surprised by the suggestion, turning him with brows furrowed in confusion. “Lonely? Why would I be lonely? I’m not lonely.”
“It sure sounds like you’re lonely.”
You immediately shook your head, rejecting the idea. “That doesn’t make sense. I have plenty of friends, I’m surrounded by people all day at work. I also have your annoying ass with me twenty four seven,” you teased. Baekhyun scowled. 
“Not that kind of lonely, dumbass. Romantically.” He paused, searching your face for any kind of understanding. But, he could only sigh in frustration as he saw the look of pure confusion in your eyes, making it very obvious you didn’t understand what he was saying whatsoever. “When did you and Junmyeon break up?” 
“I don’t know. A year ago, maybe? But why are you bringing him up?” 
Disregarding your question, he asked another one of his own. “Have you been with anyone else since then?” 
You paused, trying to recall if you’d had any flings or short lived romances with anybody after your breakup, but could call none to mind. “No. I don’t think so.” 
“Well… have you been with anyone since?” 
You gasped, shocked he’d ask you something like that so outright. “Baekhyun!” 
“Oh my gosh, just answer! It’s not like we haven’t talked about our sex lives before.” He rolled his eyes at the flabbergasted expression on your face, shoving your arm lightly. 
“You mean you talking to me about your sex life,” you corrected, stabbing an accusing finger into his chest, to which he swatted your hand away with a pointed glare. Huffing, you swung your gaze away from him, choosing instead to focus on the flickering orange flames in front of you. “No. No, I have not been with anybody since Junmyeon.” 
You jumped as he suddenly clapped his hands together, eyes wide like he’d just discovered the solution to world hunger, “Therein lies your problem! You just need to have sex!” You rained down a vicious attack of hits on his arm and chest, spewing curses at him until he finally relented, “ow! Ow! I’m joking, y/n, joking! Stop hitting me!” 
“You’re disgusting, Baekhyun.” You spat, frustrated beyond belief as you pushed yourself off of the log and stood up, “Why’d I think you’d actually try to help me?” 
You turned, about to leave, when he suddenly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back. “Wait! Wait, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious. Sit back down,” he gave another pleading pull at your hand, looking up with what you hoped was genuine sincerity in his eyes, “please?” 
You hesitated for a moment, before huffing in defeat and dropping back down into the chair. He smiled faintly, adjusting his hold on your wrist so that he could play with your fingers. There was a brief lull of silence before he finally spoke up. “I was serious about the lonely thing. Even if you do have people in your life all the time, and my annoying ass hanging around,” he added playfully, and you chuckled, “it seems like you miss that more intimate part of being in a relationship with someone.”
“The intimate part?” You repeated, looking over at him with furrowed brows. He nodded in confirmation. 
“It seems like you miss knowing someone inside and out, and someone knowing you just as deeply. You mentioned having nightmares more often than before, right? It sounds like you miss sharing your bed with someone, I think that gave you a sense of security.” You listened intently as he spoke. It still surprised you at times when your best friend, your goofy, annoying, yet somehow lovable best friend, dropped heavy wisdom on you out of the blue. Sometimes, you forgot how deep his mind and heart actually were. 
Maybe you were lonely. Maybe you’d been lonely for so long and had gotten so used to the emptiness that you didn’t even realize that it was loneliness you were feeling. Maybe this whole time, that something you’d been craving and subconsciously searching for, was actually someone. Maybe more than anything in the world, you wanted somebody to fill up that hollow place in your heart, somebody to hold, somebody to kiss, somebody to love. 
And maybe you wanted it so badly that you’d take it just about anywhere you could find it. 
That last bit probably wasn’t true. You weren’t desperate for affection by any means. But, at the very least, it would explain why you found yourself staring at Baekhyun’s lips for a few seconds longer than a friend probably should. Just long enough for him to notice. His voice fizzled off into the night air, the only sounds left surrounding you were the gentle crackling of the orange flames and the sensual song of the cicadas hidden in the trees. 
You watched as he blinked, confusion and intrigue gracing his gentle features in the form of a warm pink blush and fluttering eyelashes. You felt your heart start to pick up speed. 
“Baekhyun,” you murmured, voice almost quiet enough to be lost amongst the hushed rustling of leaves. 
He swallowed, and you watched with unfamiliar intensity as his Adam’s Apple bobbed. “Yeah?” He whispered, his own voice strained and heavy on his tongue. His hands curled into tight fists on his lap as you subconsciously licked your lips. 
“Can I…” your stare flickered up to meet his, “try something?” 
His face reddened as he glanced briefly at your mouth before hurriedly meeting your eyes, giving a single, faint nod in response. “Okay.” At his consent, you shifted closer to him, until your thigh gently bumped his, your shoulders nudging up against one another. Up close, it seemed as if you could see every detail of his face. Every stray freckle, every delicate eyelash, 
It was strange. But familiar. A nervous sensation bubbled up inside of you when you met his wide eyed gaze, and you found yourself faltering. 
“Can you close your eyes?” 
The request was met with hesitance at first, understandably. But soon enough he was nodding, eyes squeezing shut obediently. He pursued his lips, brows furrowing as he breathed unevenly through his nose, 
You suddenly found yourself being reminded of a night long ago. When the two of you were still teenagers, young and reckless and hormonal. 
He’d been over at your place. You’d talked and laughed late into the night, even stolen a glass of your mom’s prized wine just to try. You hadn’t been too fond of the flavor, though Baekhyun loved it. You remember laughing at how quickly he got himself tipsy, cheeks going a soft pink, eyes becoming hooded, lips pulling into a hazy little grin. You’d listened to him babble aimlessly for almost an hour before he’d finally fallen asleep, slumping unexpectedly against you mid sentence, head falling onto your shoulder, hands wrapped loosely around your waist. 
You can still remember the warmth of his breath against your neck, the softness of his cheek on your shoulder, the faint tickling sensation of his hair under your chin. He’d looked so innocent then, features washed in the delicate grey moonlight, making him almost seem to glow. You remember looking at him— really looking at him for the first time in your life. You’d always known he was considered attractive by many, the subject of several girls’ fantasies, but you saw him differently that night. Just as you were seeing him differently now. 
Only now, you weren’t in your bedroom wrapped up in your warm comforter, but washed in the throbbing heat of a campfire. And it wasn’t the moonlight that made him glow, but the flickering yellow flame that doused his entire body in the hellish radiance. 
You couldn’t help but to wonder when exactly he’d become a man. It seemed like it wasn’t long ago that he was that goofy little boy with the weird haircut and a mouth that could run for hours without becoming exhausted. How had you not noticed him changing before your very eyes? 
He shuddered when your fingers suddenly raised, ever so gently feathering over his cheek, and you saw his eyes squeeze tighter. You let your hand settle around the back of his neck, cupping it loosely. He leaned forward ever so slightly, and you felt the side of his chest pressing against your arm. You tilted your chin upwards. You felt his breath tickle your upper lip. The faintest of chills rolled down your spine. 
Were you really about to do this? Were you really about to kiss your best friend? It definitely wasn’t a good idea. But you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 
Your train of thought was unexpectedly halted by an odd noise. A faint humming or whistling, you couldn’t quite make it out. But, it was enough to have you leaning away from Baekhyun’s puckered lips, just in time to catch a streak of white light piercing the midnight blue sky. For a moment, you thought it might’ve been a shooting star. But, shooting stars are there then gone in the blink of an eye. Whatever this was, wasn’t vanishing. In fact, it seemed to be getting closer.
“What the hell?” You muttered, face contorting in confusion. 
Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered open, his brows furrowing as he caught sight of your unsettled expression. “What? What’s wr—”
And then, all at once, it felt as if the air itself had come… alive. 
It vibrated around you, buzzing excitedly. Warm and energized, it sent something equivalent to jolts of electricity shooting through your veins. The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood on end, skin rippling with goosebumps. An unfamiliar anticipation seized you violently.
It all happened so fast.  
There was a flash of white in your peripheral vision, and the whistling sound progressed into a low, prolonged shriek. Confusion and fear ripped through you. “Baekhyun—” you tried to reach for him, but next thing you knew, you were knocked flat on your back by a sudden sharp rush of wind, leaving you gasping and heaving desperately. You recognized the feeling of not being able to breathe. The air had been knocked from your lungs. 
A skull splitting screech tore through the night sky. Your hands leapt to cover your ears, eyes squeezing shut in agony, the sound making your head feel like it was about to explode. There was a flash of something bright behind your eyelids, and then an unearthly howling, before a deafening explosion flung your writhing body across the damp earth. 
The last thing you felt was a pain equivalent to receiving a knife to the back of head before a deep, inky blackness consumed you.
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“Y/n!” 
Your eyes snapped open at the sound of someone calling your name, ears ringing faintly, vision blurry for a moment before focusing on the familiar, worried face of your best friend, Byun Baekhyun. 
“Baek?” You muttered softly in confusion, throat feeling dry and raw. 
“Thank god. You scared the living shit out of me,” he laughed, but you could just make out the glistening reminisce of tears clinging to his eyelashes. The ground felt as if it might fall out from underneath you as you pushed yourself upright with a low groan, trying your very best to ignore the dull throb in the back of your skull. “Are you alright? You hit your head really hard.” 
You carefully touched the back of your head, drawing away sharply as the faintest pressure sent a shock of pain shooting through the area. “Did I? Shit. What happened?”
His eyes went wide, trembling hands shooting out to grab your shoulders. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Look for yourself.” He gestured with a sharp nod of his head at the large grey rock you just realized you were tucked safely behind. Glancing at him skeptically, you crept forward on your hands and knees before slowly leaning up and peering over. 
The first thing you saw was flame. Dull orange flames flickered lazily, some scattered in the wet grass, others clinging onto the shredded silver metal of the massive contraption that had broken through the treetops and created a dent in the earth. 
“Holy shit.” You blinked in disbelief, jaw going slack as you stared at the scene before you, an equal amount of both horror and curiosity flooding through you. “Is that… is that a—” 
“An alien spacecraft? Yes indeed.” 
“Don’t be fucking stupid.” You hissed, smacking the back of his head. “That’s impossible.”
“Well the fuck else could it be, y/n?”  He laughed harshly in disbelief, throwing his hands up as his eyes took on a wild appearance. “Have you ever seen an airplane that looks like that before, huh?” 
You wracked your brain for some kind of rational explanation, spluttering out weakly, “maybe it’s some sort of satellite or something.” 
“Yeah–fucking–right.” Baekhyun was shaking his head suddenly, pulling at your arm as something anxious glinted in his usually playful gaze. “We have to get out of here. This is fucking insane. This is—” he froze abruptly, body tensing beside you, the hold he had on your arm tightening substantially, “what the fuck is that?”
“What’s what?” You murmured in confusion, head whipping around to try and find whatever it was that caught his eye. It didn’t take very long. 
There was a dark shape on the ground, a lump in the grass. You squinted, before your eyes widened in horror. You might’ve easily mistaken it for a rock in the darkness had it not been for the dull glow of the fire from the strange aircraft and the bright silver moonlight.
“It’s a person.” You murmured in  realization, slowly standing up right. Baekhyun was quick to snatch your wrist.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” He hissed, eyes looking about ready to pop out of his skull. 
“They look hurt! We can’t just leave them there!” You yanked your wrist sharply out of his hold, turning on your heels and cautiously making your way over to the unmoving person, completely ignoring Baekhyun’s frantic calls for you to ‘get your ass back over here’. 
You could admit that a part of you was scared shitless, but what kind of person would you be to just leave them here, completely defenseless. As you grew closer, the person's features gradually became clearer. It was a man. Washed in the pale moonlight, he almost appeared to be… glowing. Tanned skin, hair red as blood, body covered in nothing but bruises, gashes, and ash. Even in that state, you couldn’t deny how handsome he was. But that definitely wasn’t your greatest concern. No, your attention was captured more by the fresh wounds littered across his naked body. There was one especially nasty looking one across his chest. 
Unsurprisingly, you soon felt Baekhyun’s worried presence looming over your shoulder, spluttering out curses as he took in the state of the unconscious boy. 
“Oh my god. That’s a lot of blood. Is he dead? I think he’s dead. He looks really dead. What are we gonna do, y/n?” Baekhyun rambled, voice panicked and frightened as he paced anxiously behind you.
“He’s still breathing, shit head,” you snapped, shooting him a pointed look over your shoulder, “but we have to get him to a hospital, and fast. He’s bleeding a lot.” 
The amount of blood seeping from the gash in his chest was increasing by the second. You wracked your brain for a way to ease it up before he bled out in the spot. Inspiration struck you in the form of your best friend’s yellow and blue plaid button up. “Baek, quick, take off your shirt.”
His face twisted. “Excuse me?”
“Just take it off! We need something to cover him with and to stop the bleeding,” you explained hurriedly, not giving him a chance to respond before you were shoving it off of his shoulders and pulling it down his arms. 
“Hey! Hey! I’m not wearing anything under this! This is assault! Assault!” He shrieked, attempting to squirm away from you, when suddenly a loud tearing sound split the air. His jaw dropped, gasping as he stared in horror at his sleeve hanging limply in your hand. “Y/n! This is my favorite shirt!”
“I’m sorry! But I think he needs it a little more than you do right now. I’ll buy you a new one I promise, but can I please have it for now? He's completely naked,” you tried to reason, gesturing vaguely towards the man’s bare nether regions that were just somewhat distracting. 
“Fine,” he relented, albeit visibly disgruntled, “but you’re buying me dinner for the next month!” How he was making demands like that at a time like this, you’re not quite sure. Byun Baekhyun was and always will be a strange, strange man.
“Fine, whatever, just take it off already, Jesus,” you rushed. He huffed in annoyance, but his fingers made quick work of the buttons, not fighting you off when you pulled it off his arms completely and turned to get to work on covering up the large wound. 
“My decency…” Baekhyun pouted as he covered his bare chest. 
You rolled your eyes. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Seriously? I think we have bigger things at hand.” 
“Yeah, like the fucking spaceship that just crashed!” He thrust a finger in the direction of where the large metal aircraft had crash landed not one hundred feet away from where you’d set up your camp. 
You shot a brief glare in his direction, “It’s not a spaceship.”
“Really? Because I’ve never seen a plane that looks like that before. Do you know any flying vehicles that look like that? No! Because there are none! Not on earth at least.” 
“Baekhyun, please! Shut up for two seconds so I can focus!” You snapped, your shaking hands working anxiously to press the torn fabric  against the large wound to alleviate the bleeding. It was rather nerve wracking knowing that a person’s life could possibly be in your hands. 
“I’m sorry! You know I ramble when I get worked up.” He whined defensively. Ignoring him, you carefully tied the ripped sleeves tightly around the man’s chest, applying pressure to the injury.
“We have to get him to the car. Help me get him up. Grab his legs.” You commanded, grunting as you hauled his torso up so that you could hook your arms under his armpits. 
Baekhyun let out a sound of disbelief. “Why do I have to take the legs? You take the legs!” 
“I don’t want his junk all up in my face!” 
“And you think I do?!” He yelped out, giving a sharp shout of pain as you smacked the top of his head. “Fine! Fine! I concede! Gosh, you’re so violent. Hitting people won’t solve all of your problems, you know!” 
“True. But it’ll solve this one.” 
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It took you less than half of the time it took you to trek up the steep incline of the hill to haul the limp body of the boy back down it. Most likely because the two of you were running like your asses were on fire, the threat of the odd aircraft possibly exploding at any given moment adding much needed encouragement to ignore the sharp burning of your sore legs and the notable aching of your lungs. 
By the time you reached the car, you were sweating profusely and heaving for breath. Your arms felt like they were just about ready to fall off, knees weak beneath you. Your fingers were shaking as you fumbled to yank open the back door. 
“You drive,” you demanded, maneuvering into the backseat with the unconscious boy, pulling his top half up so that he was positioned over your lap, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bleed all over my leather.” 
Baekhyun would never step out on the opportunity to drive your car, nodding sharply in agreement. “Good idea.” 
Slamming the door shut, he scrambled into the driver's seat, the engine purring to life as he turned the keys in the ignition. The tires kicked up gravel as they swiveled, the car jerked backwards before Baekhyun was swinging the wheel to the left, and you were taking off down the same path you’d come in on. 
You watched through the back window as heavy grey smoke smothered the twinkling white stars, obscuring the bright moon from view completely. Your heart lurched in your chest, your throat running dry as you watched the tips of angry flames consuming the treetops, the heavy grey smoke throbbing with an under glow of orange and yellow. It was a terrifying sight. You’d never seen anything like it in your entire life. 
Your hands, pressed down firmly against the boy’s dressed wound, were shaking profusely. You could hear the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears, the thundering of your own heart a deafening echo in the back of your skull. 
Calm down, y/n. Calm the fuck down. 
Baekhyun glanced back at you through the rear view mirror, then at the receding flames. “Do you think it’s going to—” Any speculation he was about to offer was silenced abruptly by a flash of white light and an unearthly boom. Your entire body went stiff, your breath escaping you in sharp, uneven gasps. The hold you had around the unconscious boy’s body tightened. “Holy fucking shit, y/n. Holy fucking shit. What the hell is happening right now?” 
You shook your head, at as much of a loss for answers as he was. “I don’t—” you swallowed, your throat feeling unexpectedly dry and tight, “I don’t know, Baek.” 
“Did we seriously just witness an alien spaceship crash landing on earth? Oh my god. If the government finds out— they’ll kill us won’t they? Y/n, we’re so screwed! We’ll have to go into hiding. We have to get new identities. Y/n l/n and Byun Baekhyun have to disappear. We can’t—” you cut off his senseless rambling for the umpteenth time that night. 
“Baekhyun! No one is coming to kill us! We will not have to go into hiding or find new identities or any of that sci-fi bullshit because this is real fucking life and alien spacecrafts don’t just fall out of the damn sky in real life.” 
“Like you’d know! Remind me how many movies about aliens you’ve watched in your lifetime?” You rolled your eyes, not bothering to justify such a ridiculous inquiry with a response. But, he took your silence as a sign of you admitting defeat, “yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Baekhyun, just pay attention to the—” you cut yourself off as the hand you were holding over his chest suddenly began to feel incredibly warm, the kind of heat you feel when hovering your hands in front of a flame. Brows furrowed in confusion, you lowered your gaze. A warm, crimson glow was emulating from beneath your palm. Confusion swirling to life inside of you. Slowly, you removed your hand. 
“What the fuck.”
“What the fuck what? What what the fuck?” Baekhyun questioned curiously from behind the wheel.  
“He’s… glowing.”
“Glowing? What’s glowing?”
“He’s fucking glowing, Baekhyun!” You snapped. 
He tore his eyes away from the road, torso swiveling around to try and get a glimpse as to what the hell you were talking about. “What the hell are you—,” he did a double take, eyes bulging as his jaw dropped, “holy mother of shit.” 
You could only stare, completely awestruck as his chest was consumed in a deep, blood red glow, like there was a fucking flashlight shining from the inside of him. The glow intensified, and you drew away like you’d been burned. “Baekhyun,” your voice was shaking as you called for him helplessly, a heavy sense of fear settling into your gut, “Baekhyun, what do I do?”
“I don’t know! I’ve never been in a situation like this before!” His voice was panicked and pitchy, cracking every other word like it always did when he was on the verge of losing his shit. “Try s–smacking it or something!” 
“I’m not going to smack it! What if it’s radioactive or something and we blow up!” You hissed back, trying uselessly to wriggle out from underneath the unconscious boy’s suddenly stifling weight. 
“Oh god,” Baekhyun cried out distraughtly, “we’re going to die!” 
You opened your mouth to try and argue, but all at once, the brightness of the glow emulating from the boy’s chest increased tenfold, your eyes burning fiercely from the unexpected intensity, drawing a yell of shock from your lips. 
Okay. So maybe dying was a distinct possibility. 
But just as quickly as it had come, the glow suddenly vanished. “What happened?! What just happened?!” Baekhyun demanded from the front seat, head swinging back and forth frantically between you and the road. You couldn’t bring yourself to form a proper sentence. “Y/n? Y/n?!” 
You stared blankly at the makeshift wrapping you’d made from the sleeves of Baekhyun’s favorite shirt. You found your curiosity getting the better of you. You reached towards the fabric fastened securely around his chest. Slowly, you undid the knot you’d so deliberately made, watching as the sleeves went slack and fell limply across your lap. For a moment, you were at a complete loss for words. 
“I–it’s gone,” you breathed in disbelief, trembling fingers grazing over the smooth expanse of skin that was only seconds ago marred with a deep, jagged wound. 
“What? What’s gone?” Baekhyun questioned, turning around once again. 
“H–how…” you choked on your confusion, head slowly shaking in denial. All at once, a horrible realization struck you. There was no fucking way that it was a human being laying across your lap fucking glowing. Because humans don’t glow. Because humans don’t fall out of strange aircrafts that don’t exist on earth. Because humans don’t magically heal their own wounds. 
So what, the holy hell, was on top of you?
You didn’t have much time to try and process it, because suddenly, there was honking. Loud, incessant honking. When you lifted your head, you were shocked to be blinded by a pair of bright bright headlights. It took you less than a second to process that Baekhyun had swerved to the wrong side of the road and there was a massive truck headed straight for you. 
“Baekhyun the road—!” A scream ripped from your throat. 
His head whipped around, eyes going wide as his lips parted in horror. 
There wasn’t enough time to swerve. 
And for a moment, it was like time slowed down. 
You never could have imagined that your cause of death would be getting flattened by a truck. Damn. You’d really hoped that you would go out with a little more grace than that, preferably from old age. Poison would’ve worked too. How cool would you have sounded? 
But now, when people ask how y/n l/n died— “oh, she was squashed by a semi.” See? It’s just… meh. There just isn’t as much of a kick to it as, “she was mysteriously poisoned one day… people suspect it was the jealous pool boy.” See. That’s much more mysterious, intriguing, and suspenseful. 
Plus, there was always a jealous pool boy in your death fantasies. There’d never been a massive red semi, though. What a shame. 
You closed your eyes, body bracing for the impending impact. 
… but it never came. 
Confusion washed over you as one second after another passed and you didn’t feel your bones being crushed or your body being mangled. Hesitantly, you peeled open an eye. It took you a second to process what had happened, and why there was a dark shadow cast over the car. 
But once you had, for the second time that night, it felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. 
Looking up through the large sunroof that stretched across the entire top of your car, you were met with the underbelly of a truck. The intricate maze of  grey tubes, oil stained metal, and the insides of massive black tires were unmistakable. It was like it was happening in slow motion. Your eyes followed as the truck gravitated over your car, emulating an eerie red glow, before landing smoothly back on the road one hundred or so feet behind it, driving off like nothing had even happened. 
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, eyes just about ready to pop out of your damn skull. “W– what…” your voice escaped you as less than a whisper, eyes blinking slowly as your brain tried to process what it had just seen. A cold palm pressing against your cheek was what broke you from your stunned trance. Slowly, you turned your head. 
You were in such a state of shock that you couldn’t even bring your stiff body or distraught mind to react to the glowing red eyes that were staring back at you before they fell shut and a pair of warm, plush lips were being pressed to yours. 
Well… fuck. 
You can officially say that this has been the most eventful night of your life.
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xaphrin · 4 years
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She couldn’t believe it. 
There was no way. 
Raven barely tamped down her soft yip of excitement, and she released Damian’s wrist, stepping back from his prone form. He rolled over and looked at her with a knowing smirk playing on his lips, excitement filling his deep eyes. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and sat up, rolling the shoulder she had locked when she pinned him to the ground. 
“Beloved.” His voice was low, a soft thread of pride seeping through his words as. “You finally managed to pin me. I am impressed.” He stood up, dusting the sand of the training floor off his clothes, and he took another step towards her. Raven took a deep breath, taking in the scent of him, and he smelled of warm earth, sand, and sweat, and it made her mouth water. 
He leaned over her, his head tilting to the side as he searched her face. “You are getting better at anticipating my movements.”
Was she? She didn’t feel like she was.
“You… you let me get you into that spot.” Her eyebrows knitted together as she realized that Damian had purposefully forgotten to ground himself, misstepping just enough to lose his balance so she could find an opening. Her excitement deflated a little, but she didn’t let it get to her. It was still impressive that she managed to pin an al Ghul - even if he did let her win. 
“I don’t know what you mean.” He feigned ignorance, lifting an eyebrow as he took another step towards her. He glanced down at his bracers, picking at a loose, gold thread and hummed, obviously turning something over in his own thoughts. His eyes flicked to her own, and she could see a flicker of fire in his stare. “I suppose you’ve won a reward. You’ve worked hard enough for some kind of congratulations at the very least.” 
Ah. That’s what this was about.She could hear the barest inflection in his voice, something that spoke of a whisper of sin, and a promise of something more than just a few, praising words. Heat curled up her neck, and Raven found herself thinking back to their stolen moment a few nights ago, her back pressed against the stone wall as he brought her to orgasm with his fingers alone. She was ashamed to admit that she’d relived that moment over and over in her head a hundred times, to the point where she was so close to getting on her knees and begging for it again. 
Her body tightened in anticipation, and she took a breath, trying to keep her face calm. “A reward?”
“Mm. I am… generous on occasion.” There was a tilt to his lips, as if he’d told a teasing joke, and he let the silence settle over them. “Come now, Beloved. Let’s find something worthy of you.” He stepped past her and motioned for her to follow him, his face once again unreadable and expressionless. 
Curious but definitely not cautious, Raven stumbled after him. They walked easily out of the training room, no guards were ever posted during their training sessions, and down a labyrinth of hallways and rooms that led to a wing of the fortress she’d never been to. The spartan interior she was used to gave away to lush fabrics and tapestries and paintings, as if this was an entirely different world than the one she lived in. Outside the windows, she could see a million stars dot the sky, and she wondered what time it really was. It wasn’t uncommon that they trained late into the night, but this felt later than usual. 
“Come now.” Damian opened a door at the end of the hallway and ushered her inside, glancing after her as if he was looking for prying eyes following them. 
Raven walked through the doorway and found a huge room lit with soft lanterns and luxurious silks in deep, rich jewel tones. Oh. Oh. This was his room. His own quarters where no one, not even his mother or his grandfather was allowed. Her heart picked up speed at the massive bed against the far wall and she turned back around, watched as Damian locked the door. 
“Beloved.” 
Raven’s heart skipped at the tender way he called her that. Damian couldn’t have been thinking about that. She was his prisoner, not his girlfriend. It was one thing to have him finger her in the hallway when she was so clearly desperate, but it felt like something completely different to actually sleep with him in the privacy of his own room. Her heart jumped into her throat and he leaned over her, curling his fingers under her chin. Raven found her face tilting towards his own, her breath tangling in her lungs as she watched his eyes search hers. She wasn’t sure what she felt, and her confusion mingled with her excitement and worry, making her… unsure.  
“It’s time for your reward.” Damian leaned down and pressed his lips to her own in a slow, languid kiss. 
Oh. 
Oh, that was not what she had expected at all. 
Her eyes fluttered and Raven’s world suddenly turned on its end, morphing into something else entirely. In this moment, there was no captor and prisoner, there was only Damian and Raven, and she wanted this. She wanted this desperately. 
Raven found herself sighing as she stumbled forward, deeper into his embrace. His kisses were like ambrosia, thick and heady, and he tasted of mint and spice. Damian pulled away a scant inch as if he was trying to judge her reaction, but Raven found even that small amount of space to be too much. She chased after his lips, desperate for another kiss. How? How did he do this to her? How could he upend her world and everything she knew to be true in just a few, short moments? He was her captor, and she was his prisoner, and yet… here she was, desperately making out with him. 
“I confess…” 
Raven didn’t want to open her eyes, and she let his voice curl around her senses like smoke.
“...perhaps this is as much a reward for me as it is for you.” 
Her eyes snapped open as she felt him lift her up, carrying her to the bed and letting her fall into the silks and brocades. The world melted into colors and sounds, and Raven watched as he crawled over her slowly. Damian’s eyes grew dark as his hand slid up the outside of her thigh, and his mouth tilted into a knowing smile. Raven felt like he was leaving a trail of fire along her skin, marking her as his and his alone. Part of her knew she should stop him, should put those well-placed boundaries between them again, but… another part of her wasn’t sure if she cared. It had been a year since she’d gotten here, and Damian had been nothing but kind to her. Cocky, a little egotistical and full of himself, but… patient and kind. Not at all like a captor.   
His mouth found hers again, his kisses more urgent and insistent, practically bruising her with their forcefulness. Raven’s fingers curled into his hair, swallowing breaths between every kiss, if only to help her keep her sanity. Her body shook with every exploratory touch, and she felt like she was spiraling out of control, every well-placed thought she had ever had disappearing. Her hold on her own will was dissolving into nothing, and she wasn’t even sure if she cared. 
With a low moan, she sucked on his lower lip and slipped her fingers under his clothes, desperate to touch his warm skin. He felt like liquid sun, hot against own touch, and she wanted to melt under him. He growled and pulled away just enough to strip himself of his tunic, throwing it to the floor with a grunted curse. Raven barely had a chance to admire the hard planes and sharp curves of his body before he had crawled over her again, his lips stealing even more kisses. 
Raven ran her fingers up and down his spine, trying to memorize every inch of him that she could - trace every scar, feel every muscle twitch and shiver under her touch. She let go of a soft gasp and pulled him tight against her as his mouth moved down her neck, sucking at her pulse hard enough to leave a mark. He muttered something against her skin in his native tongue, and Raven could only pick out pieces of what he was saying, but what she did understand was definitely not for the faint of heart.
God. He needed to be inside her now.  
Her body trembled, and Damian pushed a hand up the hem of her shirt, dragging the soft cotton over her skin. She was too sensitive, and she needed to be out of her clothes or she really would burst into flames. He growled low in his throat as he kissed the tops of her breasts, which were barely peeking out from her too-tight sports bra. His hand skimmed along her ribs, and he only broke the kiss to pull her tank top over her head.
There was a quick pause as Damian leaned back on his heels and stared at her bra, obviously trying to work out how to get it off her. He huffed out an annoyed breath and glared at the offensive garment before looking back at her. “This is utterly ridiculous. What is the point of all of this?” 
“It keeps everything pinned where it’s supposed to be.” Raven flushed and worked her fingers under the band around her ribs, trying to pull it over her head, but her grip slipped and she had to start trying to work it off of her again. “It’s not to bad, just a little ti-”
“Stay still.” Damian cursed under his breath and reached into his boot, pulling a knife from a hidden sheath. 
Raven felt her heart sputter in her chest, thinking back to the fight where he had nearly cut her clothes from her. Oh. A fresh wave of heat and desperation filled her and she swallowed hard, biting on her lower lip to keep her pinned to this plane of existence. He slipped the silver blade under the elastic of her bra, and with no fuss at all, tore the bra in half. 
Raven sat there and stared at him, her breasts dow exposed to him. “Did you just-”
“No more talking, Beloved.” He growled and tossed the knife somewhere on the other side of the room as he toed off his boots. With another curse, he pushed her back into the too-soft mattress, his mouth finding hers again. His hands went to work exploring her again, cupping her breasts and circling his thumbs over her nipples. Whatever she was going to say to him died on her lips, and Raven let go of a low sigh, leaning up into his kiss again. It felt like his hands were everywhere, tracing her and exploring her as he pushed her deeper and deeper into the covers on his bed. 
He kissed back down her neck, tongue feathering along her pulse as he slipped his fingers beneath the soft cotton waistband of her pants. She felt heat flood her again, and without questioning her own thoughts, she spread her legs wide for him. Now. He needed to be inside her now, or she was going to lose her damn mind. Damian growled and slipped two fingers into her easily, his tongue flicking over her nipple. 
Yes. Oh, yes. 
Raven cried out, her back arching off the bed as she cursed. Damian smirked against her skin, and his thumb circled over her clit as he nipped at her breasts, biting down on her nipple just enough to sent white-hot lightning zipping down her spine. She groaned as he pulled his hand back, yanking her pants and underwear down her legs in desperation. He looked as frayed as she felt, and Raven watched as he stood between her legs, his hands on her knees. 
His eyes swept over her, smirking. “My queen.”
Her heart sputtered to a stop in her chest and she swallowed hard as he leaned over her again, his mouth starting a slow journey down her stomach. Damian kissed her, bit her, sucked at her… and each teasing stroke left her more needy and desperate than the last. Heavens help her, she was going to die in his arms tonight. Her breath tangled in her lungs and she felt as though time slowed, his fingers spreading her wide so he could flick the tip of his tongue over her clit. Raven bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and she tried to keep her hips from bucking into his mouth.
Tried and failed.
Damian grinned and licked up the length of her, dipping his tongue inside to taste her, before he found her clit again, sucking on it. Raven swore in every language she could remember, and felt her body shiver and shake, disappearing into the stars that hung silently outside his window. Nothing had ever felt this good before. Nothing. Her fingers threaded through his dark hair, twisting the strands between her fingers, and she pushed her hips into his mouth wanting more. She felt wanton and sensual, like she was a being made only for his pleasure. He just hummed, and the vibration sent shockwaves coursing through her. Her body felt wound too tight, like every fiber of herself was fraying, and there was nothing left to do but…
Snap.
She threw her hand over her mouth and choked down a scream as an orgasm wracked her. It felt like her bones were breaking, her mind was drowning, and everything she thought she knew was being rewritten. Raven… Raven couldn’t ever remember sex feeling like this, like something ethereal. She was a heavenly body, and he was worshiping her. Her head fell back against the pillows, and she looked at the silks above the bed, feeling like she could count the threads. 
Sighing, she felt Damian bite the inside of her thigh pain snapping right up her leg until it twisted around her clit and made her feel… desperate all over again. Her muscles tightened and she had thoughts of pinning him beneath her, ripping the silk trousers from his body, and riding him until dawn poured through the window. He grinned at her from between her thighs, his tongue lapping at the mark he had just left. It ached and burned, but at the same time, it lit another fire in her. She wanted to feel more of that pain, wanted to feel him consuming her in a way that left her broken and submissive… if only within the privacy of his room. 
“I am not done with you, my queen.”
She lifted her eyes to his face, practically melting under the vibrant fire of his stare. 
“If we are going to break tradition, we are going to do so until both of us are completely spent.” 
His words meant something to her, scratched something at the back of her thoughts, but it was lost as he stepped off the bed and fully stripped in front of her. Raven swallowed whatever question was dancing on her tongue, and she let go of a deep breath. 
“Oh, gods.”
Damian smirked. 
187 notes · View notes
raywritesthings · 3 years
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Not His to Change
My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, Robert Queen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (if you really, really like bittersweet endings) Summary: Oliver gets to the afterlife once his work as the Spectre is completed and finds a surprise - and a lesson - waiting for him. Notes: Basically canon-compliant but not for Ol*city or M*rlance fans. Not really all that Lauriver either, tbh, this fic doesn’t really have an audience. Oh well. *Can be read on AO3, link is in bio*
As Oliver felt the energy leave him, he used his last remaining moments as the Spectre to construct the new world that his friends would inhabit together, a combination of two Earths. Two timelines needing to be merged. He brought back some whose lives had been cut short, softened the blows that others had suffered and crafted what he felt was the best version of reality for each of his loved ones that he could think of.
There were some things that he could not change. His father still remained buried on Lian Yu. Oliver could not think of a way for him to have become the Green Arrow without his father’s sacrifice out there in the life raft; the truth was, he was almost more scared of the man he might have ended up being without the island.
The other was Laurel. Oliver’s heart ached, but guilt twisted in his gut at the thought of callously cutting the doppelganger he had gotten to know the last few years down just for the crime of not being the ‘right’ one. The fact was, he had lost his Laurel years ago. And without her loss, the whole second wave of heroes in their city would never have been recruited. Her legacy had had that much of an effect. So he did his best to create the life he wished she had had the chance to have before it had ended; the life she deserved.
A wistful part of him wished that was a life with him, the same way he had wished it in the dream world the Dominators had created. But guilt stayed his hand again: Mia. Getting to know his daughter as an adult made her so real and alive, he couldn’t bring himself to deny her the right to existence. In the new version of Earth, he would remain with Felicity if only for her. So he would give Laurel her happy ending that the Undertaking had robbed her of instead.
Everything decided, his eyes slipped closed, and Oliver felt himself drift away from the realm of the living. Gradually, he felt awareness settle back into his body. The bone-deep exhaustion had left him, and he slowly sat up in the bed he found himself resting in.
It was his old bed, the same that he had had in the Queen Manor all those years ago. Brow furrowing in puzzlement, Oliver rose and looked through the dresser and closet, finding clothes to change into. Once changed, he ventured out of the room and down familiar hallways and stairs. He could hear the low murmur of voices coming from the kitchen, so Oliver cautiously pushed the door open, freezing in shock at the sight of the two people sitting at the kitchen island.
“—think you’ll stick around long, or back to traveling?” His father was asking.
Laurel shrugged, though as she did so, her eyes drifted to him in the doorway. “There you are, Ollie. We were starting to wonder if you were planning to spend your whole afterlife asleep.”
Her remark lacked the bite Siren would have had, her smile light and teasing instead.
“This is… we’re all here, then? There’s not a- a—” He wasn’t sure how to voice his question. Oliver couldn’t remember if being the Spectre had given him knowledge of Heaven or Hell, but he would have imagined wherever he ended up, he wouldn’t be sharing it with both Laurel and his father. They’d sat on rather opposite ends of the scale of morality, after all.
“Welcome to life after death, son,” his dad said. “Or what did that Dumbledore character call it in those books you liked?”
“The next great adventure,” Laurel supplied.
Oliver still felt a little numb, but as he drew up to his father’s chair, the older man stood and embraced him.
“It’s good to see you,” Oliver mumbled into his father’s shoulder. His real father. Not a dream, not a hallucination. Although, was it really the same thing?
He had changed the least about his father and his life, Oliver felt he could say. But even still, he had done what he could to clean up this and that, with the exception of the affair that had created Emiko. Even that he had improved with Emiko being a welcome member of the family rather than his parents hiding her from him and Thea. So was he talking to the father he knew, or just another figment of the man that wore his face? He hadn’t considered that at all, and it made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
Over his father’s shoulder, Laurel was watching him, her look both knowing and compassionate all at once. But this was a Laurel he had never really known either, as much a stranger to him as her doppelganger had once been.
His dad pulled back, keeping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder as he looked between the two of them. “Laurel asked me to let her know when you were coming to join us. There’s some things you ought to talk about, and I think she can explain it better than me.” There was a brief squeeze to his shoulder. “I know how hard you tried.”
“Tried what?”
But his dad walked out of the kitchen. Laurel slowly got up from her own chair but maintained a few feet of distance between them. “So, how was being master of the universe?”
It took Oliver a second to place the memory that question stirred; sitting on the floor of her apartment with a bowl of ice cream in his hands. He hung his head. “Definitely not what it’s cracked up to be. Let’s say I don’t miss it.”
“Not wanting that kind of power for yourself is what makes you a hero, Oliver. But… you did make some choices. Choices that weren’t yours to make.”
He licked his lips. “I couldn’t just kill your doppleganger.”
Laurel held up a hand. “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about me and Tommy.”
He stared at her in confusion. “You loved Tommy.”
Laurel sighed. “I did in a way. But he wasn’t the love of my life. You know that better than anyone.”
Oliver shifted from one foot to the other. “I had a daughter, Laurel.”
“And I’m not saying you should have given her up, either. I am saying that I didn’t need to be forced into some kind of consolation prize marriage of convenience to make you feel better. I was happier without it.”
“How do you even know that?” He couldn’t help asking. If he had changed time, didn’t that mean everyone else forgot the old timeline? Wasn’t that how Barry said it worked?
Laurel shook her head. “Since I was dead, I got to pick which version of memories I could keep. I chose the version of the life I actually lived.”
Oliver swallowed a lump that was stubbornly trying to rise up in his throat. “Then… you really are my Laurel.”
“Mm-hm.”
He took a step closer, unable to help himself from folding her into his arms. It had been so long, and he had missed her every single day. She hugged him back.
“Everything you went through, everything you lost,” he said in her ear. “Why would you want to remember?”
“Because it created me. The best version of me I know how to be. I wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from me.” She drew back and cupped his cheek. “Not even you.”
“Only you could be that stubborn,” he said, the warmth in his tone belying his words. Laurel smirked back at him. “What happens when Tommy passes?” Even if he had brought his friend back along with so many of his loved ones, Oliver knew it couldn’t last forever. Everyone died eventually. And when his friend got to the afterlife, expecting a version of Laurel that now only existed as a fiction Oliver had invented to assuage his own conscience…
“Then he’ll find his place in the afterlife. I don’t imagine he’ll want to see me, at any rate.” Laurel left his arms completely, walking back to her chair to get a bag that she’d left hanging off the arm. “Considering he was getting ready to file for divorce before the me in that timeline was killed.”
Oliver’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”
“From what I was told, he could see exactly what he saw in the timeline you and I remember. No matter how much power you have to wield, you can’t change who people are in their bones, Oliver. Only they can change themselves. And I wasn’t about to do that.” She finished slinging the bag over her shoulder, fixing her denim jacket so that it sat properly.
She loved him still. The lump was back, and he brought a hand up to try and wipe at the moisture starting to gather at his eyes before it could get out of control.
“If I could — if there had been a way,” he started. A way for both Laurel and Mia. God, he’d seen the way Mia had gotten on with Laurel’s doppleganger. He was sure his daughter would have found an even more supportive mentor in the Laurel he had known most of his life. The same way Thea once had.
She shook her head sadly. “Your family comes first, Ollie. We both know that. That’s why I’m not staying here. There’s a whole lot of afterlife to explore, a lot of it I didn’t see when I was alive. So you wait here for your family. It’s okay.”
It wasn’t fair, but he knew he would let her go. She was always the bigger person between the two of them, in the end. She walked past him and towards the door, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from saying, “If we’ve got the rest of eternity to spend here, my family might get sick of me after a while.” How many breaks had he and Felicity taken with their relationship, after all?
She looked back, a wan half-smile tugging at one corner of her lips as the long, blonde hair he remembered best spilled over her shoulder. “Then I guess you’ll just have to come running after me if that happens.”
He nodded. “Always.”
“Goodbye, Ollie.”
“Goodbye, Laurel.”
She let herself out of the kitchen, and he heard the front door shut moments later. Slowly, he walked to the island and took the chair she had sat in. Like most times, she had left him with much to think about.
If anyone could see fit to defy him even when he had held the power of a near-God, it was Laurel. A breathy laugh left him at the thought. She always was able to bring him back down to Earth, even when they were no longer on it. Wasn’t that a relief?
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ai-katsuu · 4 years
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Hans and Briar Rose (1/1)
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story is made thanks to @oceanspray5​ and @hanadoesstuffbadly​ <3 i wanted to write a bit about them, specifically after they break their curses. to read about what happened previously see their backstory
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“Are you ready?”
Hans looked at the beautiful princess beside him. The small holes of sun rays hitting her face as the wall of bushes blocks her last path. 
Briar Rose nodded firmly, “I’m ready.” 
Hans took her hand and gently squeezed it. They both stepped forward and made their way through the bushes, outside the forest. 
Briar held her hand up to cover her face as fresh sunshine shone. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light she took in the sight. Beautiful green mountains with snowy white tips, grass so much greener than the grey ones in her forest, flowers that never bloomed back there, and a gentle breeze that lifted her braid midair. Briar let out a small gasp, which Hans noticed right away.
“I understand it’s been awhile, and it might be a little scary but-“ 
“AHHH!” she lifted her arms and screamed out of joy. 
Adrenaline completely took over her body. She ran barefooted across the cool grass, she did cartwheels near the lake, just in pure bliss that she was finally free. 
“Briar please, your dress-! And the river, you might fall!” Hans said with a light red face, unsure where to look as his gaze went back and forth checking on her to make sure she didn’t fall doing her cartwheels. 
Briar tumbled on the grass, laughing and giggling to herself as she sat up. She tried her best to fix her hair but it was practically useless by then. 
Finally, Hans caught up to her. “Briar...please..” he said trying to catch his breath, “I’m very happy as well but-“ 
“Oh Hans!” she suddenly jumped up and embraced him, tackling him down on the grass. Surprised by the sudden action, Hans could only widen his eyes, flustered, unsure where to put his hands. 
“I can’t believe it really worked! Thank you so much, I don’t even know what I could do to thank you!” she smiled down at him. As much time they spent together in the woods, she still managed to make him downright melt at the sight of her smile. 
He laughed a bit, “You sort of just broke my curse so we’re kinda good.” 
Briar giggled and placed a quick kiss on his forehead before running back around the field. Hans sat himself up as he smiled at her, his hand touching his forehead. Briar continued to explore the outside world while Hans followed her as she sprinted through the fields. She picked several flowers, swung around fruit trees, and even almost jumped in the lake before Hans just barely managed to stop her.
When she had finally calmed down the pair had found a small shaded area where Hans could cook them a quick lunch. Lying down on her stomach, resting her head on her hands, Briar swung her legs up and down as she watched Hans cook, eagerly awaiting the food in the pot. (Which Hans became used to at this point but he found it adorable.)
“Here you are,” he handed her a bowl of mushroom soup. “To your first meal outside of the forest!” he exclaimed. 
Briar giggled and took a sip of the meal. “Mmm, oh Hans, amazing as always!” she closed her eyes and savored the taste of a warm meal. Hans merely smiled, the usual pride in his chest whenever she ate his cooking. 
It’s like what his father used to say, ‘The secret in becoming a good chef is to meet a woman that will make you want to give all the food you make to her.’ 
Content with the results, he leaned back on the tree as he took a bite of his own meal. “So Bry, where are you going now?” Hans asked her. 
She suddenly stopped eating and looked up as in thought, “I..I haven’t really thought about that.” she said in realization. 
“If you want!” Hans spoke soon after, “You can join the rest of the group back in the White Castle! That’s where they mostly hang out and they’d be happy to have you.”
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand out of habit, “You think so?” 
Hans nodded, “I’d especially love to meet Gretel at least. Oh and they don’t even know my curse is broken, you should definitely be there for that.” he laughed. 
“Mm..yeah..” she looked sideways and took another bite of her food. 
Hans noticed her change in demeanor, “Are you okay?” he asked.
She nodded, “Yeah it’s just..I’m a little scared,” she admitted, “I’m sure they’re all lovely people but I don’t wanna make a fool of myself. I know you’ve told me all about them but I just wanna make a good first impression.” 
“Hey, hey,” Hans looked at her, “You have nothing to worry about, I of all people know you have a good heart. And although it takes a few years off my life to see it, you’re very spontaneous and active. You don’t have to worry about acting all royal there, being yourself is the best thing you could do.” he assured her.
Briar looked at him for a bit before breaking into a smile and stirring her soup, “Thanks, Hans.” They finished up their lunch and made their way back to King White’s castle. 
Hans looked at the large gates and thought for a bit. It would probably be too much to enter through the main gates, it would be better if they used the basement entrance, otherwise known as the triplets workshop. 
He opened the door, relieved that they had left it unlocked. “Wow, it’s really dark, can you see anything?” Briar moved around. 
“I don’t know, but be careful, the triplets have a lot of stuff here. Let me get the light switch.” he tried navigating his way through the room, careful not to bump or trip on anything. 
“Oh!” she lightly yelped as she stepped on something. 
“You okay?” Hans whipped his head around and rushed to her side.
“Yeah yeah,” she stood on one foot as her hand held her other. Hans steadied her balance. “I just stepped on something sharp, I should really get some shoes after thi-”
Flick
For the second time that day Briar’s eyes had to adjust to the changing light. Once her vision had cleared she saw several individuals sitting on chairs and couches on the far end of the room, all eyes staring at them. They seemed to have been in the middle of a snack meeting as there was food around the table. 
“Oh-uh” Hans stood up, suddenly unsure what to say.
“He brought the girl home, pay up.” Merlin nudged Arthur to which he groaned and gave him another bag of Dog Food. 
“Wait, you guys aren’t surprised? I’m human again!” he moved his hands up and down.
“You snuck out of the castle almost every day with a basket of food that was way too much for even you to eat. It was kind of obvious.” Jack traced the rim of his teacup with his pinky. 
“Yeah, you would always have this stupid smile on your face while cooking.” Goldie laughed. 
“W-what smile? I don’t smile!” he said stuttering and looking back and forth between them and Briar, clearly embarrassed.
“Don’t believe them, I wasn’t excited to see you. No I mean I was excited to see you but I never smiled while cooking, I mean who does that?”  he rambled on.
 “Urgh stop, you’re scaring her.” Gretel rolled her eyes and smiled. She was the first one to walk over and both took Briar’s hands with her own. 
“Hi, I’m-” 
“Gretel, right?” Briar shyly smiled, “Hans told me so much about his beloved sister.”  
Gretel looked taken aback and looked at her brother, “Beloved?” 
Hans frowned and averted gaze, “What..I don’t know what she’s talking about..” he mumbled. 
“Aww you do love me!” she beamed and ran towards her brother, head locking him like she used to do when they were kids. 
“Ow! Gret stop, I hate it when you do this!” 
“Oh don’t be such a weakling.” 
“I am not!” 
While the twins were busy wrestling on the far end of the room, Snow, Audrey, and Goldie got out of their seats and made their way towards the seemingly dainty girl. 
“You’re so pretty!”
“Oh, thank you, I-”
“What’s your name?” 
“Uhm..Briar Rose,” 
“No way I’ve heard about you so much! Where have you been this whole time?”
At Goldie's question, Hans poked his head up and pushed his sister off him (resulting in a small ‘ow’ from her) he quickly went to her side, putting his hands on her arms as he spoke to the girls, “You guys don’t have to ask. Bry is a lovely person, that’s all you need to know.” 
“Aww gross, you two have nicknames.” Peter Pan jokingly said while smirking.
“Hypocrite,” Kio mumbled before throwing a bag of Dog Food at his face.
“Snow White?” Hans called her, “do you think you girls could show Briar around the castle? Get to know her a bit.” 
Snow smiled, “Of course. C’mon Briar, there’s this really cool room we have I wanna show you!” she eagerly pulled her along. 
“Oh, alright,” she said, smiling a bit. Once the girls left the room Hans sat down with his friends, clearly exhausted.
“Alright, you did it!” Merlin threw him a bag of Dog Food, to which Hans gratefully accepted. 
“Looks like you’re the last one, sword boy.” Jack looked in Arthur’s direction. 
“Watch it, blondie.” 
“Are you really not going to tell us where she’s from though?” Noki asked. 
“It’s not really my story to tell,” he told them. 
“Well we’re very happy for you Hans!” Pino grinned and handed him a glass. “Looks like your cooking finally made its way to a woman's heart!”
Meanwhile Snow had brought the girls to the courtyard for some fresh air. “So what do you do for fun Briar?” Goldie asked. 
“Oh! Well…” she thought about making a good first impression by saying something elegant like her parents had taught her, but after what she’s been through with Hans she decided she no longer needed to do that. “I like to sword-fight!” she said. 
“No way really? Why don’t you show us? I’ll go against you!” Audrey beamed.
 She stretched her arm towards the fountain and the water came flowing to her hand, forming what looked like to be a thin sword. “I promise I won’t use any of my powers aside from this.” 
Briar, amazed by the magic, got excited and rapidly nodded her head. “Yeah, sure!”
Audrey had a lot of experience using her magic, her water made it easy to capture her enemies, and thus her battles ended quickly. But aside from her sword, she wasn’t supposed to use any magic, which unfortunately also meant that she didn’t have enough stamina to last her a full on sword fight. 
Panting as she held the fountain for support, she breathed out, “H-How..how are you not even sweating?” she looked at Briar. 
“C’mon, you can still last!” she shouted encouragingly. 
“Yeah no I really can’t…” she whispered tiredly. 
“What’s going on here?” the F7 and Peter walked in the courtyard.  
“You,” Audrey pointed her sword at Hans, then at Briar, “Your woman is crazy athletic, she’s not even tired.” Audrey breathed out. 
“Or you just have really bad stamina without your powers,” Peter flew and hovered above her. “you look like you're dying.” 
“Shut up, you're next.”
“I have to say,” Gretel walked up to her brother, “I’m a little surprised she broke your curse, she’s so...different from you.”
 Hans laughed as he gently pushed her. “Indeed she is.”
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cassiopeiassky · 4 years
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When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 53
Hello yes hi it’s been AGES since I’ve had an update for you but look!  An update!  Contrary to public suspicion I have not, in fact, fallen off the face of the earth.
That said, thank you all so much for your patience.  It means the world to me.  If you choose not to read anymore because I’m so pokey, I understand.  Just send me an ask and I’ll take you off the list.  You could, in theory, stop - the major arc has finished.  But if you want to stick around, there’s still plenty of their story to tell before they’re done :)
Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.
This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  
Word count: 2167
Warnings:
For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.
Additional warnings specific to this part: Feels and emotions. They’re dealing with the aftermath now, so there are parts that are kinda heavy.  
***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***
Tags moved to the end.
WEMtbB Masterlist
Previously on WEMtbB:
“Yeah.”  You take another bite of pie as you smirk.  “You know, it’s going to be hard to top our first first date.  That was pretty fantastic.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Nope, just a fact. That was seriously the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He smirks, eyes smoldering. “Doll, you’re gonna get the full Bucky Barnes treatment – the barn date was me with one hand tied behind my back. I’m gonna knock your socks off tomorrow.”
Anticipation spikes your blood – somehow, you believe him, but you can’t miss the chance to gently tease, “We’ll see.”
Sleep didn’t want to come, but that’s to be expected.  All other terrible things aside, spending a few weeks on the other side of the world will wreak havoc on anyone’s sleep schedule.  Even exhaustion can’t always knock you out when your body thinks it’s time to be awake.  Still, you managed a few short periods of sleep, and when you couldn’t you contented yourself with thinking about your family and watching Bucky sleep.
It helps to remind you that your nightmare is over.  
His beautiful eyes, more blue than grey once again, open as the sun crests the horizon.  “Sweetheart,” his voice is gravelly from slumber and God you’d missed the sound of it, “Why didn’t you wake me up?  You didn’t need to be awake by yourself.”
As you prop yourself up with your elbow, your fingers find his hair.  “No reason for you to be awake, too, especially since you were sleeping so peacefully.”  You lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips.  “You’re just as tired as I am.  You went through just as much.”
Something shifts in his gaze as he watches you.  “You’re the strongest person I know.  You know that?  I’m so –“ He has to stop and clear his throat before he can continue, “I’m so…I don’t even know what I am.”
He has more to say, so you give him the time to find his words as you calmly play with his hair.
“I’m in awe of you.”
The unladylike snort that comes out of you couldn’t be stopped; you tried.  Awe inspiring?  You? Ahahahaha.  Nope.   “I’m not a unicorn, Buck.  There’s nothing awe inspiring about me.  I’m just…me.”
“Stop.”  The tone in his voice doesn’t allow for disagreement. “Don’t undersell what you just survived. Sweetheart, I’ve known some pretty brave men and women in my life, and I don’t know another person that could have made it through that experience intact.  You did, so yes, you are a unicorn.”  His eyes suddenly lighten considerably before he twists himself to reach for something in the drawer of his nightstand, “Speaking of…”
It’s a great opportunity to take in the broad expanse of his bare back and shoulders, so you shamelessly do so until he turns back around, causing laughter to bubble out of you when you see what he’d retrieved.
His eyes light up at your reaction.  “Do you like it?  When you were coming out of the anesthesia you kept going on and on about a sparkly purple unicorn, so Stark and I decided to make sure you got one.”
You take the impossibly soft, deep purple and silver stuffed unicorn and squeeze it tightly.  “I love it!  It’s so squishy!”
He laughs at your obvious delight while shaking his head.  “God, I love you so much.”
Laying on your back, you turn your head to look at Bucky.  “I know.  And I love you, too.”
His eyes watch yours and yours watch his, and it seems like the world slows down just a bit so for once you don’t feel like you have to race to catch up.
“So,” stretching luxuriously, you allow the moment to end because there are more good moments just around the corner, “when can we call the boys?”
“Whenever you want to, Sweetheart.  You phone is plugged in on the nightstand next to you.”
“Really?”  Twisting to reach for the phone, you find it resting next to the pile of books, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’ve really really missed playing Disney Emoji Blitz.  Don’t judge me.  Hey,” you squint at the device as you unplug it.  “This isn’t my phone.”
He glances at it and snorts. “Oh, it’s your phone.  It isn’t your old phone, but it’s your phone.”
“Huh?”
“Stark sees you as family. You’re one of us now, and that means you’ll never have a normal phone again.  He won’t allow it.”
“But –“
“It’s probably set up similarly to how your old phone was, with all the data intact.  But of course, he’s Starkified it.  Don’t bother arguing with him – at best he’ll ignore you.”
It’s true and you know it, so you just shrug and decide to accept it.  “Okay.”  It isn’t a battle worth picking, you won’t win anyway, and upon opening it and beginning to explore it, it’s…it’s kind of awesome.  All your pictures are there, and even though it looks like your contact list has expanded considerably – apparently you can reach Nat at 6 different numbers and Steve at 8  – all of your old numbers are there as well.  Your finger hovers over your mom’s contact info, but your eyes flick to the time and you place the phone back on your nightstand.  Signing heavily, you ruefully admit, “It’s still a little too early. I know my mom is up by now, but I don’t want to wake the boys if they’re still sleeping.”
“I doubt they’d mind – I’m sure they want to hear from you.  I called your ma while you were in surgery, just to give her an update, and I know she’s pretty anxious to hear your voice.”
It warms your heart a ridiculous amount to know he called her, but that’s not where your focus is at the moment.  “I know she is, it’s not my mom I’m worried about.  The boys, though – I don’t know how they’ve been sleeping since I’ve been gone, and I don’t want to mess up their routine if they’ve settled into one.” You stare up at the ceiling, but there’s no hiding the trepidation in your voice when you slowly continue, “Besides, I have a feeling that one or both of them are going to be mad at me.  Really mad at me.”
Bucky gently traces your cheek, “Why would you think that?”
It takes awhile for you to be able to utter the words that have been festering in your heart; even though you’d compartmentalized for the sake of survival and hadn’t allowed yourself to think about Artie and Jimmy much, the undercurrent of this particular fear tainted every breath you took while you were imprisoned…and it’s there, even now. Especially now.  “I’m so afraid they think I abandoned them.”  At your admission, a hot tear falls and finds its way to your ear.
“Sweetheart…”
“I left them.  I didn’t have a choice, but I tucked them in for their nap and I left.”
His voice is quiet as he plays with a tendril of your hair, “You’re right.  But you also came back.  Or will, anyway.”
“But –“
“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna say this isn’t gonna be hard on you.  Or them.  Or that there isn’t gonna be an adjustment period.  But the important part is that you came back.  Five years from now, that’s probably all they’ll remember about the whole thing.  It sucked – I think we can all agree on that – but you fought, you survived, and you came back.  That’s gonna mean the world to them.”
Your foot shakes nervously as you grab onto his words.  “I hope you’re right.”
“I am, Sweetheart. You’ll see.”  
“So,” clearing your throat of the thickness that had taken hold, you turn on your side to face him again, still cuddling the stuffie close, “what else are we doing today?
“Well, my therapist is scheduled to fly in this morning – he’ll meet with you as well so he can match you up with one of his colleagues.  Then Galina will work with you on some physical therapy for your leg to make sure the patch is doing its job and that you’re healing okay.”
Her name catches you off guard.  “Galina’s here?”
“Mm hmm.  Stark couldn’t hire her fast enough - she’s officially part of the Avengers support team now, and at the moment she’s specifically assigned to you.”  He laughs lightly, “Stark had originally planned on having one of Dr. Cho’s nurses come in for the week to monitor your recovery, but Galina wasn’t having it. She said that since she was one of the first people to treat you that she’s more qualified than anyone else to look after you because she’s already familiar with the injury.  She also brought up the very good point that she’s already a somewhat familiar face.”
“Well…that’s hard logic to argue.”  You take a deep breath and exhale loudly.  It’s a little overwhelming, to say the least.  “So is there anything else planned for today?”  
“That’s up to you and what you’re up for – but I should give you a head’s up that Nat’s waiting on the call to take you shopping for our date tomorrow night.  Shopping for fancy dresses is her favorite kind of shopping so you’ll probably feel like a life-size doll when you’re done.”  He continues as your eyes grow wide, “Other than that, I’ll probably have a session with my therapist, and then I thought we’d just have a quiet night to ourselves.  Maybe order in some Chinese food or something.”
“That sounds really nice. Um,” the awkward hesitation that enters your voice is painfully obvious as your brain shifts to mundane matters you hadn’t given much thought to over the past few months, “Did anyone happen to grab my purse?  I haven’t needed it in forever but if I’m going shopping I’m going to need it.” Shit, is there even anything in New York that you can afford?  Since Christopher’s death you’d been extremely diligent about your spending, carefully ensuring that the life insurance funds would last until you finished school and started working.  Despite being concerned about the cost of a dress, it’s actually kind of a relief to think about stuff like this – the normal, everyday things you had to keep track of before your life changed so drastically.
“You don’t have to worry about that.  Stark mentioned that he’s adding you to one of his expense accounts – he’ll probably send a credit card with Nat.”
“What?  No.  NO.”  You sit up indignantly, not sure if you’re feeling inadequate, helpless, pitied, or insulted.  Irrational?  Maybe. You can’t tell.  Perhaps all of the above.  It’s already hard enough to wrap your mind around everything they’ve done for you - this is a step too far.  You’d been living on Tony’s dime because you’d had to, and you’d used the resources available to you to care for your kids; even that was awkward at first. But access to actual money to buy a dress?  No.  You’re not a goddamn freeloader.
Bucky exhales deeply with a knowing look in his eyes.  “You and Steve are two peas in a pod.”  He mutters under his breath, but you can hear him just fine and you let him know that with a glare.  “Will it soothe your raging independence to know that money means absolutely nothing to him?  Stark giving you access to one of his accounts is about the equivalent of bumming a smoke off someone.  Seriously.”
Stare.  Blink.  What.
“Look, I think it’s safe to say that we all know you can take care of yourself.  You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”  The covers slide down, showing his torso as he sits up to face you.  “That said, I’d like to remind you about a certain conversation we had at home about us taking care of each other.  I know I didn’t specifically include my team at the time, but they’re your team now, too. They’re your family.  You know this.  It’s okay to let us take care of you – shit, Sweetheart, you take care of us all the time.”
“Okay, but cooking dinner for everyone isn’t the same thing as a credit card.”
“Doll, you don’t want to eat Stark’s cooking.  Please, I beg you, let him reciprocate with American Express.  You can’t get food poisoning that way.”  The look in his blue eyes would be comical if he didn’t seem quite so serious.
You’re still uneasy about having access to someone else’s money, but you reluctantly concede.  They are family – Thanksgiving and Christmas should have already proven that to you, even before they did what they did to save you. Still…pride, independence, and your improved but still deeply embedded insecurities are trying to make their insidious whispers into roars.  “It’s weird,” you finally mutter as you fiddle with one of your stuffie’s satin lined ears.
He snorts and nods.  “I got a metal arm and Stevie and I both have three digits to our age, Banner goes from mild mannered doctor to a big green rage monster when necessary, Stark flies around the world in glorified soda can, and I haven’t even introduced you to the witch, the god, the floating red guy, and the…I don’t know, whatever the hell Loki is.  Trust me, Stark giving you a credit card so you have a little bit of freedom while you’re here is the least weird thing about this situation.”
Well, when he puts it that way…
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grim-faux · 3 years
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5 - Down the Drain
A trail of red footprints led from the shadows across to an iron door.  If it wasn’t locked I might’ve continued through, driven on by my sick curiosity.  Beyond the safety of a secured door could await dangers the same as the hall I was now in, but I couldn’t afford not to check.  The thought alone brought chills to my spine, that behind any door a new danger could await.  How far could I run before I was caught?  In this place I welcomed broken lights.
I returned to the lit path now on my left, were another of the countless slain of this place rested.  Briefly, I looked over his body, maybe he had a card or something I could use later.  The nametag read Doug Jenkins, he was high level security, probably down here to regain control and lost himself in the process.  He had no weapons, but he was grasping a walkie talkie.  From that I salvage two batteries, there was a chance they would have no power given the drafty chill that slunk in through every corridor.
As I continued through the broken segregation gate, I realized this was where that camera shy freak had made his scene.  I was glad he seemed to be gone, but his absence was discomforting.  Nothing had changed since I left this area, the gate still locked, but the floor along my right had shattered from some climatic event.  A thin edge of cement remained, enough for me to strafe along I gambled.  It looked sturdy enough with rebar exposed at the crumbling edge, the drop wasn’t far enough to hurt if I did manage to fall.
The Asylum was shut down years ago, and degraded to a condemned state before the Murkoff Corpotration reopened it for their research.  They didn’t even bother with the minimal of repairs to maintain it, they barely shoveled out the collapsed ruble from walls and floors.  I could just picture the memo
All staff must use Cell 52-E to reach the other side of the upper floors
I began to wonder if some of the patients locked away were ever looked in on, or if Murkoff only focused on those used in their research.  Even a doomed dog was fed up until he was put down.  Those affiliated with Murkoff were some of the lowest of the lowest bastards out there.
Carefully I slide my back along the rough wall and tested my weight on what remained of the walkway.  It felt more than sturdy, as I continued to slink along little by little.  I tried to focus on my footing and not get distracted by the lost souls, locked in their broken routine.  The man that had been smashing his skull against the walls had sat down and, I think he was mumbling to himself while he persisted to crack the side of his head on the corner of a pillar.
They could have easily killed me, the opportunity was still there should they decide to pursue - hunt me down.  But the humane side of me felt sickened to the core.  Something about this, everything that was done here, the way they were left, was all wrong.  If there was a way to escape Mount Massive, why had they not left this place?  Or had others already fled?  The Warrant for Seizure indicated so, before all of this came about.
When I reached the other side, I barely recalled the twins and their sick promise.  They were absent.
“You, ah, didn’t wait until I finished.”  I sprang back as the man from the room I omitted to shut, sprang across the distance and shoved at the door.  “But I saved some for you.  Just wait.”  He turned and skipped down the steps like a jolly school boy, his voice full of merriment.  “Just wait…Mm!  Hmm!”
Maybe I should have shut his door AND propped the little chair in front of it, for good measure.
The open hall behind me was the only available route.  The lights above had failed in this section, but I could make out dark blood splatters scrawled on the wall across from me, illuminated by an open door.  I wanted to avoid using the cameras NV as much as possible, but odd sounds were nearby somewhere in the dark.  Beside me was a set of bars, but pressed against them ‘gazing’ up at me was another discarded man tied up in a straightjacket with bindings coiled about his mouth and eyes.
It was easy to feel sorry for him, and attempt to undo the cruelty done to him.  But my instincts warned me to hold my ground, and this time I listened.  The worst killers of our world could feign normalcy, but the soil in their basement could conceal the bodies of many duped by this illusion.  I easily recognized a makeshift muzzle.
From this point on I burned it into my thoughts, if I didn’t I was damned.  Speak with no one.  Trust no one.  EVERYONE wanted to kill me in some way.  The MHS cop warned me to hide, well I could fuckin hide.
Ahead, someone, probably their ‘Father’ Martin, scrawled a new message for me in red.
God annoys…
I blinked and read again.
God Always Provides a Way.
Follow the blood
Below the wording was a red streak, another wide mark was on the ground leading into some sort of pressurized chamber.  The interior was lined with what looked like foil or thermal material of some type, most likely a fire retardant.  I examined the large pipes that ran along the upper corners, connecting into pressurized caps.  As I entered my attention dropped to the floor, where there was a pair of bloody shoeprints I recognized.  The door hissed shut upon my entry and a shriek of hydraulics spooked me.  My mind flashed to Auschwitz, death camps and gas chambers.  I knew at once this wasn’t to be my demise, it was a light chemical spray to sterilize the air.  Though it did manage to stall my heart for a second.
Once the pumps ceased, the opposite door opened and I stepped out.  I was still shaken, but continued on without hitch.  Another broken segregation gate and beyond that stairs that curled up and around leading to the next floor.  Behind the first set of steps lay the crushed pieces of a wheelchair, I ducked to check behind them for anything valuable to my progress but there was nothing, aside from more low key patient files discussing prescriptions for the none volatile class.  The sounds of muttering came to me, and I took the concrete steps softly gazing up at the floor above.
On the wall was a large arrow indicating my route, I touched the edge to certify the blood was fresh, still sliding down the brick wall.  A large plate read A Block.  The Block I just came from was B Block.  Good to know.
The voice grew louder, and echoed as I made the first landing.  Another locked grate, but an area I was excused from exploring.
Continuing up the steps I could pick up an overbearing reek of old copper, along with the source of the voice.  Another emaciated patient scooted sideways, pressing his knuckles into the weathered cement wall until he had worn the skin away leaving bloody smears.
“Down the drain.  With the blood, he said.”  He seemed fully lost in the wall and strafed right, then left, repeating his words.  “Only way out is down the drain.”
Behind him slouched against the wall was what looked like a doctor, he was dressed in thick white scrubs stained black with blood.  My shoes squelched in the fluid as I neared him, and I turned my eyes back to the patient as he continued with his song and dance.  I raised the camera and filmed his jargon, then turned to the dead man.  It looked as though he had been sliced in multiple areas and all his blood poured out onto the floor, I stepped over the puddle and looked into a crimson bucket across from him filled completely with the thick black clumps.
My stomach did a flip and I retreated to the far side of the hall, another dead end blocked with crap.  I sat down on the desk to gather myself while I watched the patient shuffle and repeat.  “Down the drain,” he said.  I took a shallow breath through my collar and exhaled. 
This reminded me of the dead man I found in the lavatory, with “Witness” painted on the wall above him.  Down the drain.  With the blood.  I guess I knew where all the blood scribbles came from.  It was never a mystery in the first place.
There was another file on the desk beside me.  I checked my friend before I turned to the folder and did my best to record the pages with the night vision.
  Subject: Patient Art Program / PATIENT “FATHER” MARTIN ARCHIMBAUD
  Helen-
  Dr. Zeichner gave me your info to contact regarding the cancelation of the arts program.  My patient, Martin Archimbaud, has made enormous strides in his therapy on account of his finger painting. Just in the week since canceling the arts program, his schizoaffective assertions of some “higher calling” have accelerated enormously. Please, just let the man finger paint. The few dollars you’re saving on temper paint is more than swallowed by the cost of Clozapine. I can’t imagine the logic at play here, unless Murkoff WANTS our patients to become more disengaged from reality.
  Please advise.
  Dr. Neil Wolfram
  Martin Archimbaud.  Yep, sounded like my guy.  It felt good to know for certain he was the one leaving all these messages for me.
Fuck you Murkoff.  Why couldn’t you just let the man finger paint?  It would have saved so many lives.
My heel slipped in the blood as I tried to step over it, but I caught myself before I could lose my balance.  I shuffled along the floor following a set of bare feet prints stained thick with blood leading along the same route, to a hole in the concrete and rebar where the drooping arrow on the wall directed my path down into it.
“With the blood, he said.”
Sighing, I eased myself down the opening and looked around.  Another corridor, blood stained floor, walls eroded and bleached, the usual.  Furniture was crammed down the way with dark streaks across the surface, and another pressurized chamber with blood indicating through a sealed door.
I took note that this was the room I had seen from the other side of the gate, and cursed my bad luck colorfully.
The door failed to open on my approach, it was either locked due to malfunction or just flat out locked.  There should be a way around, but the path marked out for me was through there.  I wouldn’t rationalize following a blood trail left by a psychotic ‘priest,’ but maybe he would show me the way OUT of this place if I humored him.
I didn’t want to think about his plans if this was all some elaborate delusion of his, right before he or one of the other patients decided to murder me.  In the distance I could hear screaming, or someone sobbing, or something between the two.  It seemed like there was always someone crying out, for whatever reason.  I had a suspicion that for many it was their last cry before death.
Or escape through finality.
Light on my feet.  Be observant.  And above all else, survive.
I covered my nose as the heavy stench of rot hit me hard.  Another corpse, right beside the desk I crawled over.  Everyone with a half a mind in this place was dead. 
“Just shut up and let me think for a minute.”
The sound of grunts and meaty thwacks came from around the corner.  I dove down against the wall and listened as the violence continued.  It sounded like someone was sobbing and thumping about with wild abandon.  “Quiet!  Quiet!  Ah!”  Then it ended.
This place was horrible.  I hated this place.  Down the drain.  Gotta get out.  I repeated these meditations to myself as I crawled under a murky window with trails of soggy red slipping down.  The wall would end in a few feet, I would be exposed to whomever was there.
Slowly, I peeked around the edge into what looked like an office, or check station.  Another corpse of the asylum, and fresh I presumed.  A patient stood over the body with a wet club, droplets still dripped from the desk onto the crushed man.  It might’ve been my nerves, but I swore the body jerked as the last impulses left what was left of his brain.
The patient turned his head, then spun fully to where I was.  I froze in place coiled in a crouch ready to sprint.  I was right in the middle of the opening, there in full view of the murderer.
“I’d like you to stay quiet.”
He remained where he was and I stayed right where I was on my hands and knee.  Caught in a stupor, I nodded and scooted away.
That was weird.
I checked a Security door from my humbled position, and he gently reminded me to be quiet.  I used the shelf in the next hall to pull myself up and get going.  I just needed to stay quiet.  That corpse was quiet.
At the halls end waited a metal door which I carefully opened, without so much as a whisper.  Inside the room a figure stood tall staring up at monitors mounted high on the wall.  Below them was a darkened window, I was between figuring out what was marked on the glass and the man as he spoke to open air.
“Trying to trap us in here.”  Camera stupid, get your camera.  I lifted it and checked the visor, needed to hit record too.  Of all things…. 
“Not a lot they can do about it lying in their own steaming guts, is there?”
The variants were responsible for this shit hole disaster.  But how did they manage to kill the Security personal, and the MHS?  As far as body count went (excluding limbs and pieces) those that could be identified had all been staff, very few of the slain had been patients.  This statistic should be reversed, unless they moved their dead.  I didn’t believe enough of them had the cognitive faculty for that, but I hardly viewed a blood stain that was unaccounted for.  I was barely scraping the surface of this horror mystery.
“Who…?”  He had spied me when the door creaked as I leaned in a little.  “You’re one of Murkoff sons of bitches, aren’t you?  I want to show you something.”
He had nearly reached me at the end of that sentence, but I had whirled away to run.  He wanted to kill me.  Thought I was Murkoff or something, maybe I looked too normal for him.  I didn’t feel healthy in thought.
“You FUCKER!”
I tried the metal door across from the librarian, locked.  No shit.  I darted off as my pursuer skid around the corner.  There was no other place for me to go, no place to hide!  Maybe I could get back up the drain, it was my only option I could see.
At the halls darkened end, all but invisible was the hairline creep of light from a door!  I picked up speed smashing it open with an arm, in the same motion I spun about catching the edge and threw it shut.  I didn’t see if he had followed this far, or if his hoots had done him in.
I looked around, another office.  There was a desk, filing cabinets that hadn’t found the hall yet, a barred room with lockers and janitorial equipment.  I walked the perimeter and found an open cell door, through the NV feed I could make out a bed but little else.  I entered and shut the gate and slipped under the bed.  Here I lay safely secured by my only ally, the shadows.  He would know I had no place to hide, no place to run.  If only there was a way I could lock that gate.
The door knob twisted and the door opened.  My breath caught as I turned my face into my shoulder and shut my eyes.
“Son’s of bitches.”  I heard his footfalls fade.  The door of a locker opened and shut, all in the same motion.  “Sooner or later.  Doesn’t matter.”  I pried an eye open as he paced the room, he paused to examine the bars of the room I hid within.  I stare at him unblinking, it felt like my heart and blood ceased all at once.  If he came in he would find me.
But the closed gate deterred him, and he swung away knocking over the computer monitor out of spite.  The screen crashed and flashed out beside my head, I hadn’t flinched from the explosion and saw bright spots as a result.  “Doesn’t matter.”  Satisfied with his inspection, he turned and exited the room whistling an off tune melody.
Even after his song faded, and the clack of a door echoed to the room, I waited.  I could never overcome this icy clutch of feebleness I felt, the overbearing weight that my life was out of my control.  I shoved myself a little more under the bed until my back pressed against the wall.  For a moment I felt safe.
People live in famine, mothers watch their children starve.  Families are torn apart by war, yet life goes on.  Men kill children because their leader orders it, then live free and safe because they are still useful. 
The world had fucked up shit in it.  I was going to get out of here, I was going to survive and tell the story.  Others had survived.  My will couldn’t be broken, no matter what they did.  I hadn’t seen the worst of it yet.  There will always be the worst, waiting just around the corner.
I pushed my arms out and crawled from under the bed.  A little puddle of blood had stained my elbow, but it was so insignificant.  This was probably my most favorite room in this entire place.  It was so…tame.
“They weren’t experiments.”  His sudden voice didn’t alarm me, I think I knew he was there the whole time.  I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, staring into the dark and where his shape moved.  “They were rituals.  A conjuring.”
A conjuring.  This seemed along the same lines the Priest was on about.  This ‘Walrider’ he called it, same as in the project reports that Murkoff based their studies.  And they found it in the mountains.
I rose to my feet and left, trying to find the door so I could shut it, only to recall it was on the other side of the door frame.  He was still muttering behind it as I tiptoed through the hall, listening for the echo of steps not my own.  It sounded like the patient left through the metal gates, but I hadn’t seen the quiet man yet.
Cautious and quietly, I stepped beside the wall that separated us.  He was still there, now staring at the cold corpse.  He didn’t seem too interested as I passed by toward the control room, this suited me. 
I peered into the open room before waltzing right in.  Desk with monitor to my left, control panel where I left it, and lockers with a desk situated in front of them on the far right.  I crossed over to the panel where a button sat on the terminal, one that looked important or might shed some light on my whereabouts.  I gave it a swat and cringed when the lights behind the glass blazed a nasty yellow, the doors hissed as they opened.
Follow the blood.
I had to hand it to the ‘Father’ Martin, he was getting creative with his grim messages.  If I moved side to side I could tell the arrow indicating my path was painted inside the sterilizing chamber, and Follow was scripted on the glass.  It would have been more impressive if the message wasn’t written in blood.
My battery was running low on power, best to fix that now while everything was calm.  I decided to use one that I had salvaged from the guard and popped it in, but was dismayed to find it only had half strength.  Probably because it was some off brand Murkoff had ordered, typical.  Better than nothing.
I listened, picking up the faint pats of bare feet echoing from the hall.  The doors had made a good deal of noise when I activated them.
The camera went to its hoister, and I moved quickly to the lockers and slipped inside.  Two lockers.  Wouldn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure out if both were empty….
I held my breath when he entered.  Indeed, it was the librarian.  He approached my side of the room, checking the brightened window as he twisted the sticky club in his red hands.  He was thinking of leaving, there was no one in this room.  Just turn and leave, there would be no more noises, at least not until I was safe beyond those doors.
His gaze fell on the lockers.  I swallowed as he moved over and pulled the latch on one.  There were two lockers, someone was in the second one.  That was what he was thinking.
He shut the door and turned to the next, right when I decided to throw it open and flew out.  The door smashed into his chest, as a result I couldn’t clear the door and tumbled when my foot glanced the sharp lining of the interior.  He toppled to his knees as I rolled into the filing cabinet. 
“Come back here!” He had already made it to his feet and was nearly upon me as I scrambled to get up, my vision distorted by vertigo like in a bad dream.  I bolted for the open hall dead ahead.
A sharp whistled cut through the air and I felt the crushing blow to my shoulder, causing me to stagger.  The walls quivered as my vision warped, the pain began a slow march up my shoulder into my neck.   I didn’t know if it was broken, quickly I decided it couldn’t be.
I zipped around the corners and flew over the desk, the patient had trouble keeping up from whatever Murkoff had done to him, or I was just moving too fast for my own good.  I skipped across the bloody threshold of the sterilizer’s doors, they shut at once and misted the area with their foul smelling spray.  Even after the other door opened I knelt down for a beat, to calm my nerves and test my shoulder.  It was hurt, not fractured, but it would bruise up later.  Regardless of what could happen, I needed my arms no matter what.  Hell, if they were tethered by little tendons, or bloody-butchered stumps I would still use them.  I couldn’t afford not to.
Red streaks and an arrow greeted me on the other side.  At least it was something.  I stepped out, checking around the corner and listened.  No sounds, nothing but the occasional distant shriek.  I ventured into the decrepit hall and tried the Security door, locked of course.  The hall ahead was still inviting and the familiar echoes of cracking came to me, I stepped over a fire extinguisher as I went.  I wanted to kick the stupid thing but knowing this place it would spew ice or blood, or something else horrible.  The hall took a left, but in an alcove at its end was another dead man, but I wasn’t keeping count.  Looked like another one of Murkoff’s Research division, he seemed a long way from home.
In actuality, I was losing my patience with them.  I had seen so many corpses, dead and crushed in every way imaginable, and why?  Why the fuck did they lose control of this place?  Why wasn’t anyone alive?  Why couldn’t they have gotten out, called someone, and kept me from joining them in this shithole?
I paused and sighed as I reached the corner.  I wasn’t being fair.  I had entered under my own terms, though I had misgivings, I ignored them until it was too late.  The one to blame here was not the people duped into working the system.  It was me.  I had to look in the mirror and remind myself, I had climbed into that window.  I wanted the story.  I was getting the fuckin story of a lifetime.
Just had to survive it first.
“We gave him a chance.”
Oh for Christ’s sake….
“That we did.”
“I’d say we were more than fair.”
“Paragons of patience.” 
The voices drifting around the corner sounded amused, or pleased, or every sort of happy I could describe.  I glanced around the edge ready to bolt if necessary, but it looked like they had another one of those beautiful metal gates between them and me.  I breathed a sigh of relief, and winced.  My ribs hated me.
“Job-like in the suppression of our desires.”
“But now.”
“Now.”
“Now we indulge.”
“Yes.”
“His tongue and his liver.”
“Yours.”
“Mine.”
My options seemed unfairly limited.
I stepped out from behind the safety zone and moved forward, keeping eyes locked on the twins.  They watched my every move with a morbid fascination I was not comfortable with.  The gate between us might have looked locked, or they might wait until I neared and then they would burst through.  They couldn’t know I was trapped here, if they had plans they would wait until I was too close that they could catch me with little effort.  But I had no idea what was going on here.
Aside from the discussion of how to divide me up.  I refused to imagine what those plans entailed. 
The first door on the segregation section had been torn off and left in the middle of the floor.  I stepped on it as I examined the area keeping a portion of my attention on the twins, always.  They were on the other side of the second gate with weapons that could slip through the bars easily to deal fatal injuries.  Beyond the frame on the left was another door labeled Security, I didn’t know if it was locked or not and I didn’t plan to get close enough to find out.  They said nothing more, content to palm the flat side of their weapons and teeter anxiously as I weighed my ‘options.’  On my right was a smashed out window with a dark crimson stain stretched on the sill, but that presented no better route.  Was the mark another indication of my path by the ‘Father?’
I looked out without getting too close, viewing a long drop to Block B where I first explored.  The man that had been smashing his skull into walls had resumed his mission, and patrolled, sobbing about voices.  From the distance he was easily identified by his blood drenched face, as his actions.  I thought he would’ve succumbed to the self-mutilation long ago.
I pretended not to notice the twins as I climbed onto the sill and slipped over, grabbing the ledge on the other side and hung there.  My shoes scuffed against the wall, but my grip was firm despite my wounded arm.  There were no other areas of interest to the right, but I knew the twins could judge my actions and would wait for me wherever I decided to go.  If I slipped under their view I might have a chance to get up on the other side and take off before they could surprise me.
Given there was any place to go once I was there.  A locked door could be waiting, or a blocked corridor.  The fresh bruise in my muscle alerted me to action, as visions of my body plummeting to certain death haunted the forefront of my mind.  I hastened my movements locking it in my mind that I must not let go, no matter what.  Was there even a way in, a shattered window that was away from those two?
There was, but it wasn’t far enough to be worthwhile.  At this point my arm was burning, I needed to rest it or I wouldn’t be able to pull myself up.  From there my only option would be to drop.
I braced my toes against the wall and heaved up over the frame enough to see into the hall.
They were gone.
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transxfiles · 4 years
Text
A Roll Of The Dice by two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat | @homeworkforpigeons
Summary: Star Trek is an incredibly popular tabletop roleplaying game. Mostly gen with some Spirk at the end.
Word Count: 1822
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Gliding through the stars would never get boring, he decided. Even at Warp Speed 9, with all the bright lights zipping past him so quickly they were nothing more than blurry spots in the sky, it was a simultaneously haunting and stunning sight. The Captain sighed, leaning back in his chair-
“Oh, do get on with it Jim,” muttered Hikaru from across the table, rolling dice between his fingers. “We don’t have all day.”
“But the monologues are important. For… character development.”
Nyota rolled her eyes. “Not when you spend an hour on them every turn. Besides, we already let you have the Captain’s Log thing. Now come on. I want to fight some hostile aliens.”
“Aren’t you supposed to stay on ship with Scotty in case things go wrong, Communications Officer?”
“Goddamit you two,” Bones said, fist slamming the table, sending papers fluttering and figurines toppling onto the board.  “We’ll never get anything done with the two of you fighting.”
“Come on Jim,” said Rand, shoving some dice into his hand. “Your. Turn.”
He looked at Spock, who just did that thing where he would raise only the one eyebrow, and sighed in defeat.
“Fine.”
He dropped the dice, watching them roll until they made their way a surprising distance from him, finally stopping by Scotty.
No one really knew how they’d all gotten together. Jim had to admit, they were an odd group.
In the end, they were all just sort of bored, and lonely, and they needed something to do after school. Originally, it had just been Jim and Bones. They took turns DMing, setting up short campaigns for the others to play, but it got incredibly boring very quickly. They got tired of it. They needed a permanent DM - so they’d found Spock, who, despite his attempt to put on mask of no emotion, seemed to take both happiness and pride in being Dungeon Master. And after that, everyone else had sort of fallen into place. Because once they had Spock, they at least a consistent location to play - his basement. Which, though still not ideal, was better than bouncing between Jim’s too-cramped (shared with his brother) bedroom and Bones’s tiny garden shed. So while Spock’s basement was a bit musty, it was honestly ideal, really, because though it was dark and sometimes damp, they made it their own. They had a little cooler with snacks and drinks it, and they’d put down a rug, and they had a little table, and every time a new person joined them they all went down to the local flea market as a group and helped pick out a chair for them, and ever so slowly the basement became theirs.
After Spock joined, Nyota was close behind him. She was new to their school that year, and she wanted friends, so she sought them out. She knew Spock through T’Pring, of course, and though Spock’s relationship with T’Pring was more than a bit strained, still, Nyota didn’t seem to mind. She wanted “Something amusing to do outside of school,” she’d said, something to “fill the time” and “make an afternoon more enjoyable.” A statement to which Jim had (nearly) replied with a few lewd, though somewhat humorous comments - though he did instead opt to stay quiet.  Somewhat due to Bones kicking him not-so-discreetly in the shin, telling him that “She won’t stay if you don’t play nice.”
And with Uhura came Rand, a new friend of hers, and with Rand came Chapel, a blonde girl Jim recognized from one of his science classes (he was taking a lot of those; it was one of the few things in school he actually enjoyed taking part in, and since he was on one of those advanced tracks, he was taking as many as possible) and it also drew a young Scottish kid, who was quickly nicknamed Scotty (because if you’re that goddam Scottish, James Tiberius Kirk is sure as hell going to give you some sort of nickname) and Scotty drew a kid named Hikaru, and Hikaru drew in the Russian exchange student, Pavel, and in some way or another, they managed to get together enough people to create a long-term campaign.
They named their ship the Enterprise, and decided on their mission: To explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life, and new civilizations. To boldly go where no one has gone before.
(That last bit used to be no man, but Nyota, Rand, and Chapel had all insisted that was at least a little bit sexist, and so they decided to change it to no one.)
The first time they’d all played a campaign on their own had resulted in some of the most fun Jim had in months. Spock DMed (of course) and they got to go down to a planet for shore leave and Scotty got with some prostitute (or planned to, at least) and then she was murdered and they all needed to work together to solve the mystery, and it turned out that the entity that had murdered the woman was actually Jack The Ripper (a reveal that had prompted many of them to ask Spock what exactly he was on when he wrote this) who was an immortal alien who basically ate fear.
“The crew of the Starship Enterprise is once more face to face with the hostile Klingons,” Spock said, hiding behind his notepad.
Jim grinned. “I walk past the Science Officer, our hands brushing as-”
“Oh shut up,” said Nyota, obviously suppressing a giggle. “You’ve tried to seduce him, what? Thirty times now?” She looked to Chekov. “How close am I?”
“Well, it’s a bit higher than the thirties,” he said. The bastard was reaching into his backpack for a notebook, no doubt to add another tally to some list he’d made for keeping score.
“I’m getting closer every time!” Jim said.
Spock raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Roll for charisma,” he sighed.
He did, tossing the die across the table. And, as was the usual, he rolled a two.
“Oh come on,” Jim groaned. “Can I try again?”
“Jim, we have discussed this before. You cannot spend the entire game attempting to seduce your Science Officer.”
“Now that we have gotten that over with,” Spock said, “I feel as though I must inform you that, due to a yet unknown technical malfunction, you now find yourself stranded in uncharted space, and, as I previously stated, surrounded by Klingon warbirds.”
After that, the game resumed as usual.
There was, of course, a miraculous victory from the crew of the Enterprise (with only a few casualties, mostly in the NPC department) and somehow Jim’s player character had ended up shirtless again, but they defeated the Klingons and saved the day. And then, soon enough, it was seven in the evening.
Time to leave.
Jim made his way over to the sofa, picking up his backpack where he’d dropped it earlier that evening. He slipped it over his shoulders before turning to his friends.
“Psst,” Jim said, careful to be quiet as he beckoned Nyota and Bones over to him. “Guys.”
Bones looked confused at first, but after a glance at Jim’s face, he knew exactly what was going on. “Oh no. No, nope, no way, not gonna happen.”
“Jim,” Nyota said, trying a different approach, “come on. Just wait a little longer if you’re nervous. I told you I could coach you if you wanted, and that offer still stands.”
“I don’t know… I just. Ugh. I have this gut feeling that I have to do it now.”
“Then just do it!” Bones said, voice getting gruffer with each passing moment. “You don’t need us with you to ask him out.”
“Well, it would be helpful?”
“Helpful,” Nyota deadpanned.
“Like… cheerleaders?”
"Cheerleaders?" Bones made a face.
“You’ve never actually asked someone out before have you.”
“Sure I have!”
Nyota and Bones gave each other a look.
“Please,” he hissed, voice still held at a whisper. No one could really explain why, but Spock had excellent hearing. He was just kind of like that. And Jim wasn’t willing to let him overhear this conversation. “You don't have to be right next to me, just nearby? In case something goes wrong. Or I catch on fire. Or Spock catches on fire…”
“I’ve got a date with T’Pring,” said Nyota. “I can’t help you with your love life right now, Jim.”
“Bones looked up. “Sorry Jimmy Boy. I’m busy too.”
“What? No excuse Bones? At least Nyota had something prepared.”
“Oh shut up.”
“You shut up.”
“You-”
“-are both acting like toddlers,” Nyota finished. “Come on Jim, get it together. Ask him out.”
“On what? A date? Does Spock even do dating?”
“You’ll never know until you get your shit together.”
With that, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and left, saying goodbye to them all on her way up the stairs.
Jim groaned.
“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Bones muttered.
“Bones…”
“Come on Jim, it’s not that hard. You just go over to him, tell him you like him. Ask him if he wants to go out with you.”
“And what do I do if he says no?”
“Say that it’s okay, you understand. Smile. Hold it together until you get somewhere you can cry safely.”
“Bones.”
“What? It’s solid advice.”
“Okay.” Jim took a deep breath. “What if he says yes?”
“You tell him that you’re really happy, and you like him a lot. I’d say give him a hug or something, but this is Spock we’re talking about, so avoid physical contact for now. And whatever you do, don’t say ‘cool’.”
“Don’t say cool?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Just don’t do it.”  
“Mm-hm. That’s how you charmed Miriam?”
“Oh shut up.”
And then, as though following in Nyota’s footsteps (probably purposefully, the bastard), Bones grabbed his backpack and ran up the stairs. Leaving Jim alone with Spock in the basement.
“Fuck,” Jim muttered.
“I fail to see a reason for such language,” a cool voice said from behind him.
Jim almost jumped out of his skin.
He spun around, face-to-face with the boy himself.
"Hi Spock!" Said Jim, voice jumping an octave from nerves.
Cue signature eyebrow raise. "Jim."
Jim took a deep breath. "I was wondering..." he felt his hands drop to his pockets as he tried to get the words out. "Well, you see... I like you-"
"I should hope so. We spend a fair amount of time together, in school and outside of it."
"Spock-"
"I am messing with you, Jim."
Jim looked up.
Spock was smiling.
Jim looked up the stairs, eyes tracing the paths Nyota and Bones had taken, then looked back at the ground at his feet, then looked back at Spock. "Did you overhear-?"
"Your entire conversation?" Spock shrugged. "Perhaps."
"Do you want to-?"
"Yes."
"Oh... wow, I...."
"Jim?"
"Spock?"
"Do not say 'cool'."
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Congrats on 500 followers! I have a simple (shameless) prompt. I loved All That Glitters and I would feel utterly blessed if you gave the world another ZenYuki fluff. Thank you!!!
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Zen has always been fond of the castle by firelight. As a boy, he slipped his minders leash more times than he cared to count, sneaking between the halos of torchlight and into the many shadows they afforded him. There was a certain freedom inthe silence, in the way his boots would echo in the emptiness while all but theguard slept. Squeezing into a crawl space between statues here and grabbing ahandhold among the trellis’s there, he was alone. An adventurer exploring new lands. A soldier heading off to war. A knight in search of a dragon to slay. All while being blessedly unseen.
He hadloved the dark. The anonymity of it had been… peaceful. A respite from the expectations of his birth. Truth be told, he still does - seeking it out just like the moon seeks the sky. The way light forges its own path through it is beautiful. Memorable. And in his own way, hesupposed, he understood Obi because of that. Found kinship with him and envy in the way that he never lost his casual relationship with something that Zen couldonly have in secret.
But rightnow, that darkness was getting in his way.
“Shirayuki!” He doesn’t know if it is thesoles of his boots or the tick of his heart that is pounding against the walls.“Shirayuki!”
And maybe, he thinks, heowes his retainers an apology.
~ ~ ~
Music swells, drowning out the rustle of cloth and creak of bones as the entirecathedral – including Zen, including the King – rise to their feet. And, in thecenter of it all, she stands among them. Rules them. For this brief moment, for thissingle minute in history, she is bestowed something approaching the respect that she deserves.
And she takes it. Like a dream,Shirayuki steps through sunlight stained by colored glass, down the aisle and up thealtar to claim her prize. 
She’s a vision in white, like he always knew shewould be, her hair curled and laced through with diamonds and rubies and pearls,wisteria dripping from her hands.
Her headbows as she stands before him. Even veiled, he can still see the emerald of hereyes, the burn of her blush, the bright shock of her hair.
Andwithout waiting for him to even offer, her gloved hands slide into his. Taking him boldly before the kingdom gives her the right.
Dearly beloved…
~ ~ ~
He’s panicking. 
The rush of blood deafens him, makes him sloppy. He’s already tried her rooms. And the pharmacy. And the rooftops and the hothouses. Each location, empty. Each location, swept clean and brightly lit and completely empty in preparation for today.
With every second he fails to find her, doubt creeps into his veins. Reminds him of his station. Of the multitude of reasons he might be too much trouble.
It would have been better if you were never born a Prince…
Heart in his throat, he rounds another corner. Maybe he should summon the guard. Inform them that there is a problem with security. Send out the call that Shirayuki has been kidnapped. Has run away. Has gotten cold feet and she doesn’t–
The leather of his boots screech against marble.
And he stops.
And stares.
There, in the dark of the garden, framed by the gaudy monstrosity of golden swans and colored lights and arches of water making up the fountain that could only be a gift from Prince Raj himself, Shirayuki stands. Eyes shut and mouth moving as she sways ever so slightly, hands folded tightly above her stomach.
His knees go weak, and he collapses against the nearest pillar. Ah, he was going to have to speak with Mitsuhide about his training schedule soon - All this paperworkwas finally starting to catch up with him. 
“Shirayuki,” he calls out, more breathless than he likes. “What are you doing?”
She comes to a sudden and guilty hault, spinning on her heel.
“Zen!”
~ ~ ~
“PrinceZen,” Lord Brecker interjects, not even a full five steps after he’s extracted himself from Lord Lido’s well wishes. “There’s still the matter of the land claim in the Yuris. If you could just speak with His Majesty on my behalf–”
It’s onlyyears of watching his brother that keeps his face from crumpling like a used tissue. With a carefully neutral smile in place, he nods along to the old bag. And maybe, just maybe, he entertains the thought of following Obi’s advice and absconding for a fortnight.
It wasn’tfair. It was their wedding day. But every noble in the country who was not ontheir deathbed was in attendance, all eager to remind him of their presence from the moment they walked into the ballroom. And, what felt like hours but was likely only minutes later, he was still he was wading through endlessmembers of nobility and visiting royalty.
“Excuseme.” A drink slides into his hand, a broad hand skating the length of hisshoulders. “His Highness is needed elsewhere for a moment.”
Zen onlyjust catches the flint of gold and the nudge of a leg against the back of his knee before theroom spins, Breckers annoyed face being exchanged for the faceless multitude. He looks to his side, and up.
A smile blooms across his lips. “ThanksObi,” he sighs, and lets himself be led. Hopefully to Shirayuki. “I wasn’t looking forward to whatever gripe he had about Kihal this time.”
Obi’s hand falls from his shoulder in a casual shrug. “You looked like you were drowning back there.”
“Mmph,” he takes a careful sip and jolts in surprise. It’s wine. Watered down. Zen casts Obi a long gaze out of the corner of his eye. “You would think they would give me some breathing room today out of all days.”
“There isno day off for a Prince, I suppose.”
Zen narrows his eyes even more, watching as that cat-like demeanor slants towards him.
“But,” Obi muses, in a tone too much like Izana for Zen’s poor heart. “Oh my,if you are the Prince, I wonder where the Princess might be?”
Zen blinks. “You’re not bringing me to her?” He scans the room. There’s a million faces, none of them the one he is looking for. “Wait. Weren’tyou supposed to be watching her?”
“WhyMaster!” Five fingers splay across Obi’s chest, brows arched. “You asked me to attend to you tonight,remember?” 
~ ~ ~
“I’msorry,” Zen takes a step forward, straining to pick her voice out from the shower of the fountain. “What did you say?”
Shirayuki’s hands are fisted at her side, shoulders reaching for her ears. And she blurts, 
“What ifI step on your feet?!”
Zen stops. Blinks. Stares at her, at a loss. “This has really been bothering you, hasn’t it?���
A delicate flush works its way up her neck and shesquirms. “We’re going to be dancing in front of everyone and I-” Her hands flex against empty air. “I don’twant to embarrass you!”
“Shirayuki.” He takes a step forward. “You won’t.”
“But what if I do?”
“Then go ahead and step on my feet!” Zen shrugs, lip tugging at one side when her mouth falls open. “What are they going to do? Revoke our marriage license? Demand that I divorce you for failing to complete a perfect turn?”
“Zen!”But she’s laughing now, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering. Dabbing at the corner of her eyes with a kerchief, she sniffs, “Be serious. Your brother–”
“Our brother,”he corrects softly, closing the distance between them. He takes her wrist, pulling the tissue away from her face. “Remember? My family is your family now. Nothing’s going to change that. Least of all some silly dance.”
Shirayuki’s eyes swell, face going blotchy, and she looks around, worried about the shadows that are doubtlessly watching them.
Brushingaside his cape, Zen extends his hand towards her. Like then, like always. “Comehere.”
She ducksher head, body suddenly so shy.
“Shirayuki,”he breathes again. “Please. I would like to dance with my wife.”
Her mouthparts, wordless, and she stares, tissue gripped tight against her breast.
“Mm,” isall she says, ducking beneath his arms and sliding her free hand into his.Her ring glints in the bare light, the weight of her hand in his something fought for.Something cherished.
~ ~ ~
I call it the Northern Star, he whispered, sliding the diamond band past her knuckles. A perfect fit. WhereverI go, it guides me back to you.
~ ~ ~
Musicswells in the distance between the gentle song of night critters and the trickle of the fountain, and Zen swaysmore than follows any particular set of steps until she stops shaking. Until the heaving of her back subsides, and then calms.
“This isnice,” she says softly, her mouth touching his lapel right above his heart. “Butwe should go in soon. They’re probably wondering where we are.”
She makes to pull back, but his hand tightens; molds her to him. There would certainly be no dancing like this once they returned, and he- well, he likes it.
“Wait,” he whispers, lacing his fingers through her hair. “Just a little whilelonger.”
Shirayukitucks her face against his neck, wet lashes tickling his pulse. A shiver races down his spine.
“Okay. Just a minute.”
“Mm.” Hepulls back, just slightly, pinching her chin between thumb and forefinger. Her head tilts back, hair spilling down over her shoulders and eyes wide and shimmering the same as they were that day so long ago in Kokoku Watchtower.
“Yea,” hebreathes against her lips. “It might take a few minutes more.”
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