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yetanotherhiddlestoner · 2 months ago

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Summary ~ Daryl finds a journal on a supply run and reads it, what will happen when he sees the world through someone else's perspective? Set in the commonwealth, straying a little from TWD timeline, but hey that the fun thing about fanfics right?

Daryl X Y/N. Words ~ 2449. Warnings ~ None (Photo found on Pinterest) Also I am trying to update I fell hard, you'll fall harder but it wont let me post it :(

The Entries Chapter 1

Daryl wasn't a man who just picked up a book to read it, not these days at least, if he found books for the kids then he would grab it and give it to them, he tries to recall the last time he actually read a book, but while he was looking for supplies, Daryl found a diary, the front looking worse for wear and covered in pink glittery stickers, something that reminded him of Princess and her style, Daryl's curiosity got the better of him and so and he opened it and read the first page. It read.

Entry one~

"This may very well be the last chance that I have to write, my family told me I should be a writer, I guess this is my last chance to ever get a book out there, but if anyone ever reads it, I hope you find comfort within the pages of this journal. My name is Y/N and this is the story about how I survived the apocalypse, or didn't I might be gone by now, in that case if would be a memoir right?"

Daryl shuts the book, placing it in his bag, he goes around gathering what supplies he can find before finally placing his bag on his back, starting up his bike and speeding back to the Commonwealth. Today was a good day for the supply run, he was able to find some medication for the community, canned food and some clothing for the small kids. That night as he lay in bed, he digs into his bag finding the journal, he starts reading it again.

Entry two~

"I was born in 1989, 21 when the dead started attacking us, currently 26-27 years old although I have no idea if that is even right, I am just guessing the days and months at this point in this world, and I don't know how much time it has been if someone is reading this anyway back to my life story. My mother and father married at a young age, or at least young for them, they had just turned 20, been high school sweethearts, the whole Prom king and queen story line expect this was real life. It didn't take them long to start a family. My brother aka the eldest was born when my mother was 22, then another 2 years later came my other brother, the annoying middle child and then myself with a nice 5-year gap between myself and my second eldest brother."

Daryl flips the page to a collage of photos, ripped or cut to fit onto the pages. In the middle was one clearly done by a professional photographer, you are all sitting on the ground, smiling while looking at the lens, each person has their name on the photo, he looks at you in the photo. front and center, sighing at how happy you looked. Then in the corner is a photo of your parents on their wedding day, followed by photos of each child not long after they were born

"The day the world fell, I can't even remember the date, I was meant to be going to work, but my mother called me and begged for me to stay home, she begged for all of us to stay in our home, she told us all about the videos of people being shot down and them coming back and attacking people, I heard the terror in her voice, my brothers thought she was worrying for no reason, so they left for work. I tried to stop them, but they just wouldn't listen. I watched them walk out that door, hop in their cars and drive away, fearful that they wouldn't come back. I rang my friends, we chatted for a while, scared. We had planned on hanging at mine in the coming days, thinking this was just a temporary thing and that it would be fine within a week. How naive I was thinking the police and the government were going to be protect us. I was very wrong. I watched as some of my neighbors left, cars packed up, houses left unlocked, pets left to fend for themselves. The street felt quiet, usually the kids would be playing in their lawns, coming home from school talking to their friends, or riding their bikes, now those things were left discarded. I watched the news, it only made my paranoia worse, watching them shoot down what I thought were innocent people at the time, the screams I could hear outside my door had me on high alert. My father never came home that night. He was away on business, he was meant to be coming home that day, I can only assume he is now dead. When my mother came home, she rushed us to get all the supplies and weapons we had, mostly kitchen knives, loaded them into the car, we waited for my father, constantly calling his cell phone and workmates but no-one answered, the longer we waited, the worse it got. During the night, I heard screams from down the street, saw neighbors running for their lives getting attacked, the screams as their friends chewed into their flesh, and then coming back. That night my family and I hid upstairs in one room, no lights, no noises nothing just praying we would make it through.

Sunrise came and with it did us leaving our family home, the concrete covered in blood splatters, the groans of the dead coming out of the yards towards us, as I hopped into the car I gave the house one last look the one that I was born and raised in. In that moment the life I had known was gone. I have no idea if my friends were alive and if they are I hope they are well. That night, we tried sleeping in our car, taking turns at driving out of the city and further in land, my mother says we would be safe, away from the ones who can kill us. I doubted it though. We could see the cities being bombed from our car, the flame lighting up the horizon."

Daryl flips the page. His fingers glide over the page of photos once more, he notices that is your style, you write and then you put photos. He likes it, he likes that you are a real person, that had a real life, real friends. Entry three~ "We drove for what feels like days, we pass the undead, we even ignore the hitchhikers, we can't risk taking on the wrong people my brother says. I've seen children biters, that is what we have come to call them, it breaks my heart. I had always wanted to be a mother but now I don't see kids in my life, not if my life is constantly running from the undead or living in fear."

Daryl keeps reading, finding himself more intrigued with each line. Another page, another photo of you and your friends, of you and a dog, he can assume might be a pet of yours once. You started drawing things you have seen on your travels; he takes in the details of each piece of art. You have a knack for art, a lot better then himself he tells himself. Another glimpse into your life. Another thing her learnt about you.

Entry four~ "The days pass in a blur now, it's been months since shit hit the fan. I think it might be coming up to winter, the air is cooler, a nice bite to it at night. I lost my brother to a biter; he was out trying to find more supplies when the dead came out of nowhere, he tried to fight them off. He managed to get away and spend his last few moments with us, his body bloodied and bitten. I watched as he turned, his eyes glossing over, the snapping of his teeth as he reached out for our mother who was crying for him to stop, I didn't think I just acted, my knife plunging into his skull, he was my first biter I had to put down, we buried him in a field under a tree. Our mother hasn't been the same since, she barely says a word these days. We lost our car, ran outta petrol, lost most of our things, I managed to save the one thing I need in my life, my photos, my memories in the one bag I don't ever want to lose" At the bottom of the page is a Polaroid of yourself."

Daryl notices the tally on the bottom of the page. Later on in the journal he would see the numbers go up each time, you didn't write about them but you kept track.

Biter - 1 Human-0 Animals -2

And then a photo of the makeshift grave you buried your brother in. His date of birth and just the year 2010 at the end. "I know it may seem silly to whoever is reading this but as long as I got a camera, batteries and film, I'll keep taking photos, documenting what I survive through, until I can no longer find the supplies. I'll keep doing this until I am no longer able to. It is the only thing that makes me sane, it makes this world feel to real"

Entry five~ "I know death comes to all, but I didn't think my own mother would end it herself. I should have seen the signs, she stopped eating, stopped speaking, stopped living, day by day the life drained from her eyes, I think ever since we left, each day has made her realize that things were not going to get better. My brother and I buried her as best we could then we headed back out into the world, on foot for miles, tonight our home is a service station, not really safe, we are holed up in office, being as quiet as possible, we have raided the shelves for food and water, if we lucky we might get another day to rest here and then we will keep moving. I doubt we will make it to the mountains, it is too far to travel by foot."

He sees the cut-out photo of you and your mother, noting how much you look like her, you have her hair and facial features. His fingers move over the photo, he feels sorry for you, he knows how to feel to lose a loved one. You look so happy in this photo, the world can be cruel.

Entry six~ "I tried, I tried so hard to stop him, I screamed at him, begged him. But he didn't listen. Now I am all alone in the world I wasn't born for. My brother, the eldest, always looking out for me, we got stuck in a rundown house, he used himself as a diversion. He screamed at me to run, to get out. I grabbed my bag and ran, the last thing I saw as I turned back was him being over ran by them and screaming for to keep running, don't look back and that he loved me. My brother was a person who rarely said the L word, so hearing his last words as that made me run harder, until my chest burned. I have found a small tree house in the woods, I am guessing it was a child's secret hideaway, built by their parent's or at least that is what I am telling myself while I cry for the lost of my family, for tonight it is my sanctuary. I have no idea how I am going to live alone; do I find a group? Do I try to live alone? I am scared, I haven't felt like this since day one. I have no idea what tomorrow brings, I have limited water, limited food and a couple weapons." Daryl continues reading the journal well into the night, when he glances at the clock its almost 2am in the morning, he decides to close the journal for the night, placing it on his nightstand.

When he picks up the journal again, he can't believe how much he has read in a short time.

Entry 17~ "Found a library today, took out the undead inside, found a book on edible foods in the wild and how to survive out here. I am hoping they come in handy as my rations are almost out, also found a book to keep me entertained."

Biter-16 Human -2 Animal-8 Entry 18~ "I miss them." Daryl reads those three little words and feels a pang in his heart.

Entry 19~ "Today I snapped. A biter came out from behind a corner and in a second, I saw my life just die away. I beat that thing into a bloody pulp, smashing its head over and over, while tears formed into my eyes. Am I losing what little humanity I have left? Is being alone making me into an animal?"

Daryl grimaces at the photo of the now dead walker that you took. He wonders why you took that? Why would you want a photo of something that broke you? He has had his fair share of kills, yet he never truly wants to remember them.

Entry 20~ "Found a creek near the road I was walking, I have learnt how to filter dirty water, at least I have something to drink now, I just need to find food and a place to rest for the night. I have no idea really which direction I am going; I have to learn all this now."

Biter-36 Human -2 Animal-14

Entry 21~ "I am nearing the end of the book, the pages filled with the stories I have written, photos I have taken, I have truly lost track of time, the days, the months everything is mashed into one big never-ending nightmare. I fight for my life daily, it is exhausting. I think my next stop for me is the next town 30 miles away. For now I leave this journal here, for anyone, if there is anyone left out there that is. Please take care of my photos, my life story, it may not be anything these days." The last words written hurts Daryl a little. "I truly don't want to die. But I don't know if I am strong enough to live."

And your signature style is a photo of you, he guessing you took it the day you finished the journal, you look sad, alone. He just wanted to hug you and tell you it's going to be alright.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead fanfiction #dixon vixen #daryl dixon and reader

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arctrooper69 · 11 months ago

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As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 12:

Previous // Next

Warnings: None

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This is already so much harder than Cid made it seem, you thought with a grunt as hills of gravelly rock slipped and slid beneath your feet.

The moon's perpetual dusky atmosphere made it nearly impossible to navigate the rough terrain without a headlamp.

And it's just my luck that this one is almost dead. The lamp flickered briefly but remained lit for the time being. At the rate you'd been replacing power packs on this thing, you weren't sure there'd be enough to last the journey back to the ship. The moon’s naturally emitted electromagnetic frequencies were not something Cid had mentioned.

No surprise there. Wonder what else she failed to mention.

You were glad Hunter wasn't here. This would be the death of him. You couldn't imagine the havoc it would wreak upon his enhanced senses - the pain it would cause him. Yet the sour taste of loneliness still faintly lingered, littering the background of all your thoughts.

A faint rumbling sound echoed across the rocky plain and you paused, listening. The strange, muted grumble became louder like the moon itself was warning you to leave and never come back.

Rocks began to quake as the ground rolled in a violent tremor.

“Well, that’s just wonderful…” you growled sarcastically. “Thanks for that!” you yelled out to no one, voice echoing strangely through the barren atmosphere.

The tremors subsided after a few minutes, though you waited a few more before starting out again.

You paused after a while, double checking the coordinates on your datapad. The screen flickered. It was a small inconvenience, yet one that landed precariously atop of so many others, drawing all the ire of pent up rage and hurt into one soul crushing cry of frustration that you’d been keeping down for so long.

“I hate this kriffing moon!”

You stopped, taking a few deep breaths.

Calm. Calm. You have a job to do.

The datapad screen blinked back on as you smacked the side of it with your hand.

Should be right around…. There.

The dimming light of the headlamp softly illuminated the entrance to a mine just ahead.

Here goes nothing.

You sighed, placing your bag on the ground before pulling out the necessary gear.

Grabbing the cable, you began to lower yourself down the dark, damp mineshaft. Without warning, another tremor rocked the ground again.

Stronger than the last, you noted, hoping that didn’t mean anything.

Another small quake sent a shower of dust and pebbles cascading down onto your face and hair. One arm let go of the cable, instinctively curling upwards to protect your face while the other held on with aching fingers, fighting how it swung wildly and out of control.

As if the vengeful moon had heard your angry cries, another rumble of the ground tore the cable from it’s resting place, pulling a terrified shriek from gasping lungs as you found yourself in a freefall, desperately clawing at the wall for any kind of stop.

Pain shot up through your shoulder as gloved fingers caught the edge of a protruding rock, dragging yourself to a more steady position, jamming your feet into crevasses in the wall.

Karking hells! You closed your eyes and let your head drop forwards to rest on the cool rock face where you clung, taking a moment to calm your screaming nerves.

You exhaled in disbelief, unsure of whether you should cry or laugh.

“Oh gods, this is not my day. This is really not my day.”

Whining to yourself, you looked down and realized you were nearly at the bottom.

Taking another breath, you pulled the cable from your belt and hooked it securely once again to the rock face, quickly gliding down the remainder of the mineshaft.

Damn. Absentmindedly stretching your sore shoulder, you crouched to place the pack onto the ground, hissing quietly as the action sent a shooting pain down your arm. You switched the headlamp off and waited for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. A dim light glimmered from a cavity in the wall on the other side of a small pool of bubbling water. They matched the description Cid provided on the jewels she’d tasked you with retrieving.

“Oh how convenient,” you scoffed, carefully scanning the area lest you be swallowed alive by some carnivorous rock or whatever else thrived in this hellhole of a moon. You chuckled dryly. That would be just my luck.

With trepidation, you stepped carefully over the small pool of water. Grabbing the small extraction tool you’d brought along, you sank down to your knees and began drilling at the glowing stones, counting each one as they popped free.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…

You stood back up, carefully placing the stones inside one of the many pouches that lined your belt, and turned around to head back. A wave of sudden exhaustion pulled a sigh from your lips as it washed over you. This place was definitely not one you’d be coming back to in a hurry.

Pausing before the bubbling pool of water, you took one last look around, but your gaze was drawn right back to the pool in front of you.

Weird. A strange feeling of unease crept into your bones and you shivered. Could’ve sworn it wasn’t that big when I stepped over it before. You shrugged, certain that your mind was only playing tricks on you because when you looked once more, it was the same size as it had been before.

“This place gives me the creeps,” you muttered, looking around suspiciously. You glared at the bubbling pool and took a running leap over it just to be safe.

It was almost as if someone had pulled a rug out from beneath your feet. The edge of the pool caught on the tip of your boot and you came crashing down, a cry of alarm turning into a cry of pain as your shoulder roughly met the ground. You scrambled forward with a gasp, pulling your foot from the water.

“Did you just….” you spoke aloud, voice saturated with an incredulous annoyance, “Did you just trip me!?”

The ground rumbled lowly once again.

“Great! I’m arguing with a kriffing moon,” you muttered, shaking your head.

You sighed, four days of solitude and you were already talking to inanimate objects.

Your boot squelched as you dumped out the water that filled it. I hate wet socks. You wiggled your toes glumly.

Wrecker would find this hilarious, you chuckled to yourself. What would the rest of them think of this place?

You smiled, thinking of how Tech would be cataloging each tremor and tectonic abnormality, looking at everything through that endearing lens of curiosity. Echo would be working on a way to combat the harsh electromagnetic frequencies for himself and Hunter. His steadfast attitude wouldn’t let himself give up until he tried every option. Omega would wander, collecting oddly shaped rocks and staring into the strange bubbling pools. And Hunter…

You sighed, picking yourself back up, best not to think about Hunter. But you couldn’t help it. Loneliness settled into your gut, you missed them.

No. You scolded yourself. You’re a grown adult. You have made it in this galaxy on your own before and you will do so again.

But being on your own was a lot different than being alone.

You took a deep breath, willing that forever-heavy emotion back behind the locked doors of practical reality. It wasn’t worth dwelling on thoughts that only brought you down, and it took skill to lock them all away so efficiently - a skill you knew you’d better relearn fast.

Unwilling to stay and reflect any longer, you shot the cable up and climbed out of the mine.

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jaempanini · 6 days ago

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002 Mark, where did you go?!

☆ warnings: nsfw jokes, cursing, haechan falls on the floor face-first, this chapter is partly written

☆ word count: 0.5k

You smile at your phone before quickly switching it off and pocketing it, turning around to look at Mark. Your brother sighs exasperatedly as he hauls all three of your suitcases up the stairs.

"I thought you were joking when you said you'd be bringing three suitcases... Aren't you only staying for a week?"

You shrug. "Where else am I supposed to fit my Versace shirts?"

"You are staying in an apartment with two college boys, where the hell will you be wearing Versace?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, before reaching up and flicking at his forehead. Mark flinches and stares at you, eyeing your new set of nails.

A moment passes before you roll your eyes and sigh out a short and simple: "You're such a man."

"That- that doesn't even mean anything, dude!"

"You shower once a week, I'm not taking advice from you. And you smell like a fucking pinetree"

"Bro! That's my new cologne!"

You and Mark finally make it to his floor, with you walking readily to his apartment and your brother awkwardly shuffling behind you, struggling with your baggage. You pause at one of the doors. "Your apartment is number 27, right?"

Mark looks up at you, taking some time to process your question before calling out a weak "Yeah."

You nod, but don't move to open the door.

Mark finally reaches you and lets out a huff as he sets the suitcases down, immediately shaking his hands and whining. You side-eye him. “Girl… I know that was not that fucking hard.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Mark exclaims, pouting and making big wide eyes at you. You stare back at him, before once again reaching up and flicking at his forehead, grinning in a satisfied way as you see him yelp and quickly cover the spot with his hand. Mark, in a defeated tone, tries to defend himself: “Come on… I'm older than you, technically I'm supposed to be the one making fun of you.”

You smile at him. Despite your pleasant expression, your voice is tense. “You know damn well I'd break both of your legs.”

Mark smiles back at you, nodding. Some sort of mental sibling-to-sibling connection happens, and Mark just sweetly replies, “Yeah.” (Renjun would say that "mental sibling connections" don't exist. You know he just doesn't understand your insane ability to be on one mental wavelength with Mark.)

You both break into a small fit of giggles, before Mark finally moves to open the door.

Mark, as soon as he swings the door open, he looks alarmed for a split second, and you hear a gasp, followed by the patter of feet, followed by a guy showing up in the doorway, who makes brief eye contact with you, before tripping over absolutely nothing and falling face-first onto the floor as Mark side-steps him.

You hear his body make a dull sound against the ground, after which he goes completely still. For a moment you almost become concerned, until he slowly lifts his head up and his face morphs into an expression of absolute, undeniable horror.

You can see Mark struggling to hold in his laugh in the corner of your eye, as the poor boy stares up at you with what you could only describe as pure dread.

“Donghyuck…” Mark begins, coughing in order to mask his giggle, “... this is my sister Yn…”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, the boy — Donghyuck, or whatever, — starts stuttering, and you can see his face start to turn bright red.

previous ☆ main post ☆ next

synopsis: What? Mark has a sister?! Donghyuck wasn't exactly sure what exactly he expected when he was told that Marks' sister would be visiting. Maybe he expected a girl who's as nice and goofy as Mark, or maybe a girl who's shy, but what he didn't expect was Yn Lee, who's apparently a biomedical engineering major, a part-time model, and also a bitch.

TAGLIST: @mmjhh1998 @haechology @413ktz @nia197 @keilover @hyukisf @pluggtalkk @chan-yeoldelling @txpxwxk @xrminarlert34

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jnnul · 24 days ago

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the right side of wrong (part 3)

TAGS ▸ uhhh an accidental kiss, some fighting/sparring, sunghoon boxes bc i said so, stalking but you don't know that yet

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ so i've been sitting on this chapter for quite some time (motivation to finally post has come from @dojunie for updating the masterpiece misdial) and i originally wanted to include a lot more plot in this chapter but i figured that it would better to get it out than ruminate about the plot too much more. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 19, 20XX, 12:19 P.M.] [copenhagen, denmark]

“teekl!” klarion exclaims, taking in his surroundings with a sneer. “i wanted to teleport to where y/n is! why’d you bring me to copenhagen?”

teekl meows, as if to rebuke klarion’s displeasure of being dropped in copenhagen - a place with beautiful scenery and fresh air, mind you - compared to the exact location of where y/n was, which was something that teekl was not only incapable of doing at the current energy levels that he was at, but also something that was difficult for klarion himself to do.

“if only i had her exact energy signature…,” klarion mutters under his breath, trying to hone in on y/n’s energy signature. he feels a quick zap against his skull, almost as if he’s made a breakthrough before it vanishes and klarion sighs.

“might as well take a cat nap, before i recharge and find that stupid runaway,” klarion says and teekl meows in almost malicious agreement. neither of them realize that they aren’t the only ones looking for her as felix faust slinks back into the shadows, the two of them never leaving his sight.

[march 19, 20XX, 12:27 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“let me get this straight and please, feel free to stop me at any point you think that this is batshit insane: you landed in ace chemical factory, and in your panic, you screamed at supersonic levels and everything around you shattered. after that, you didn’t want to be put in jail or whatever you thought was going to happen so you ran and wandered aimlessly around gotham before you ended up at the bank and met artemis. oh, and how could i forget, you didn’t know you could do that?” sunghoon recaps in an almost satirical voice, rubbing the outside of his ear, having just recovered his sense of hearing. y/n nods, somewhat sheepishly, having been pacified when yuna shin, the magician from the justice league, had been called in to fix the necklace using a spell. yujin sighs, rubbing her forehead as the two of them start to piece together what had happened that night.

“still doesn’t explain how icicle sr. managed to get from the yacht bridge to the bank in that time frame,” yujin says and y/n raises her hand hesitatingly.

“i don’t know if this is relevant but there was some guy wearing a huge parka in the middle of march that was riding down a huge…bobsled with ice that kinda appeared wherever he moved? i wasn’t sure if that was normal in this dimension so i didn’t say anything but they’re both icy,” she says, fidgeting with her hands.

“did you see anyone else with him?” sunghoon asks, and y/n wracks her brain, trying to think if she saw anyone else that night.

“some really pale lady with spiky blue hair?”

yujin and sunghoon exchange a look before yujin groans, pulling out her phone to call belrev and let the maximum security prison wasn’t nearly as high security as they thought it was.

“those three are all money hungry people who ally with each other every time they want to pull off a serious heist since they all use ice as their method of attack. they were probably all working together to pull off the yacht bridge incident,” sunghoon explains as a lightbulb goes off in his head. “that’s why we only saw shattered glass and nothing else. the ice probably melted by the time that we got there.”

“well that explains that. what that doesn’t explain is the canary cry. no one else in the justice league - or the injustice league, for that matter - has the canary cry. at least not since that impersonator was put into prison but even she couldn’t use the canary cry well enough to make stone break,” yujin says once she gets off the phone.

“right…” sunghoon turns to y/n, who’s fidgeting with the necklace in her hand. “do you mind if i look at that for a second?”

y/n stares at the necklace for a moment before handing it over somewhat reluctantly.

the necklace itself seems rather plain. it’s a gold necklace, with a single pearl dangling off of it but other than that, it had no identifiers to suggest why this necklace was so important to y/n.

“it was my mother’s,” she says softly and sunghoon hears yujin have to contain her gasp where she was standing. “it’s the only thing i have from her and the only thing that my father hasn’t tried to take from me when it comes to memories of my mom.”

that would explain the sentimental attachment.

sunghoon eyes the pearl, which seems to be dazzling in the light, even though there was very little in y/n’s room, as though it were exuding light, rather than reflecting it. well. unless pearls operated differently in y/n’s dimension (which, at this point, sunghoon couldn’t even say definitively that they didn’t), there was something about this necklace…

“you don’t know who exactly your mother is, right?” yujin asks and y/n nods, hands twitching as she watches sunghoon fidget with the necklace before he drops it back onto the nightstand. she snatches it up quickly, putting it back around her neck, seeming much more calm now that the necklace was on her.

“no. all i know is that my father and my mother went to the same high school and that i was born when they were both still in school, which is probably why i ended up with my dad instead of my mom,” y/n says, thumbing at the pearl. yujin exchanges a look with sunghoon, and this time, sunghoon is the one to leave the room, pressing buttons on a flip phone to call someone.

“look, i don’t want to give you any false hope or even give you any information that you don’t need right now,” yujin starts, taking a deep breath. y/n doesn’t say anything, just watching yujin as the taller girl gets up to start pacing around the room that suddenly feels surprisingly cramped.

“but with the cry and everything that she’s told us about how she discovered her powers and everything…we have good reason to believe that your mother is black canary.”

y/n’s breath comes out as a staccato as it catches in her throat.

“…and we don’t know if she knows you exist."

[march 19, 20XX, 1:02 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“what did the bat say?” yujin asks a disheveled looking sunghoon. the tall man just shakes his head, sitting down next to her on y/n’s bed, the owner of said bed watching him from the other side of the room on her beanbag chair.

“he can’t confirm or deny anything right now because black canary’s not in the u.s. right now. she’s out of the country on some top secret mission and cannot be called back under any circumstances,” sunghoon sighs and yujin’s eyebrows furrow.

“it took you half an hour to find out that we can’t get in touch with black canary?”

“there were…other things. just alpha clearance level things,” sunghoon says and yujin immediately leans back. y/n’s eyes bounce back and forth between sunghoon and yujin before clearing her throat nervously.

“uh, what does alpha clearance mean?”

“it’s just our classification system to ensure that the information from the team and the justice league is kept safe,” sunghoon explains. “each person has a certain clearance level they request or are approved for. more than anything, it’s so that people in the league or on the team don’t bite off more than what they can chew.”

“for example, superboy has the lowest clearance level - level eight. we trust him with our lives and know that he’s the first person to run headfirst into danger if he felt that was right,” yujin starts and y/n nods slowly, following where yujin was going with her logic.

“but if someone who was that quick to action were to be given higher clearance knowledge, then it would be hard to reestablish which missions are his priority and which aren’t, since he would probably feel they were all important,” y/n continues.

“and while they are all important, some require more planning than brute force. it’s hard to explain that to someone when they’re already extremely emotionally invested in a mission,” sunghoon finishes.

“it’s really more about how emotionally detached someone can get from the mission to ensure that actions are being put in place for the greater good,” y/n summarizes and yujin and sunghoon both shrug.

“that’s one way of thinking about it. it’s like a chain of command, honestly. if something were to happen to me, there needs to be someone who would be next in the chain of command so that the team doesn’t get split into five different directions because five different people think that the team should operate differently,” sunghoon says and y/n nods, leaning backwards into the plushiness of the beanbag chair.

“is it alright that you’re telling me all of this though? i asked because i was curious - but i’m curious about a lot of things. things that are probably less confidential than the inner workings of how an espionage and covert operations team works,” y/n asks, and although her words would set sunghoon on high alert coming from anyone else, he feels strangely understanding when it comes from her.

which had implications that he wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

“well, if you want the truth, there’s two aspects to it: a) it’s in our best interest to be as honest with you as possible so that you can be as honest as possible with us to help us with stopping the light. and b) i’ve been having private conversations with various members of the team about you joining the team - if that’s what you want - and everyone’s on board with the idea,” yujin says, watching y/n’s reaction to this (what she thinks is, at least) bombshell of information. “that’s actually part of what sunghoon and i wanted to talk to you about before the whole canary cry situation.”

“join the team?” y/n repeats slowly, her posture growing more timid as she sinks even further backwards into the chair. sunghoon refrains from reaching forward to comfort her, for fear that he might scare her even more.

“it’s not an obligation and we’d definitely understand if that’s not something that you want. but we figured that we’d present the option to you whenever you’re ready. i think that you’d be a great addition to the team,” sunghoon says gently, his eyes never leaving y/n’s.

“you do? but i don’t have any combat experience; i’d just drag you all down and put you in danger,” y/n murmurs softly, and yujin catches the faint blush on her cheeks as her eyes dart to the floor for a moment’s reprieve from sunghoon’s gaze. cute.

“we all started from somewhere, y/n,” sunghoon reminds her.

“yeah. boy wonder’s the only one out of all of us who came out of the womb fighting,” yujin snorts, punching sunghoon in the shoulder. “and besides, i saw you hold your own in front of icicle and his stupid gang. anyone who can blast that frosty old snowball into a sedan is someone i want on my team.”

y/n smiles softly, her thumb rubbing over her knuckles as she’s lost in thought, weighing her options in front of her almost plainly on her face. sunghoon taps yujin’s knee slightly and the two of them get up from where they were perched on her bed and begin to make their way to the door to leave y/n to her thoughts.

“can i - could i, maybe, watch you guys train tomorrow? soojin said that you guys are training altogether tomorrow and maybe that’ll help me make a decision?” y/n asks and sunghoon’s nodding his head before he even fully processes the question.

“whatever you need, y/n. just be sure to bring an ice pack in case you decide to join the fight,” yujin says with a wink as she walks away. sunghoon rolls his eyes before shaking his head when he see’s y/n’s eyes widened with worry.

“she’s joking. you absolutely don’t need to spar with us to watch, y/n,” sunghoon says softly and he sees some of the tension in her shoulders visibly melt.

“thanks, sunghoon,” she murmurs back, getting up to close the door as sunghoon retreats as well, a small smile on his face.

sunghoon. he liked the way that his name sounded on her lips.

[march 19, 20XX, 9:52 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

y/n winces as superboy crashes to the floor with a resounding thud. jay huffs as he lays on his back for just a moment, the mat sounding out a depressing ‘SUPERBOY - LOSS’ as he stares up at the ceiling.

“i’m getting really tired of getting beat up by people half my size,” jay groans as he accepts yujin’s hand as she hoists him up back onto his feet.

“to be fair, yujin is pretty much your height,” jake points out, hand deep into a family size bag of chips. he was already well past his first defeat at the hands of his girlfriend and had wisely decided to spend the rest of training with some form of food shoved into his mouth.

“i don’t think that’s gonna make him feel better, kid. and he’s pretty tall,” soojin says but jay just shrugs.

“eh, i’ve only got two or three inches on her but if there’s anything i’ve learned from training with artemis and black canary, it’s that you should never judge a book by its cover. especially a girl. those are books you could read your entire life and never understand,” jay snorts, and soojin and yujin exchange an exasperated look when jake hollers out an ‘amen brother!’.

“i don’t know. i don’t think girls are really all that hard to understand,” sunghoon announces his presence, unwrapping the bandages on his knuckles as he joined the team in the sparring room. he was a boxing aficionado as of late and had taken to doing some boxing training in solitude before training with the rest of the team.

he’d tried to hook soojin and jake on it but soojin had incinerated the boxing gloves and jake had accidentally phased right though the sandbag. needless to say, boxing became more of a sport of solitude after that.

“of course our resident player says that; that’s how he gets all the girls to fall for him,” jake teases and sunghoon just rolls his eyes.

“i’m not a player.”

“says the man who hasn’t dated a woman for longer than three months at a time.” yujin crosses her arms over her chest as though she was daring sunghoon to challenge her statement.

“that doesn’t mean i’m a player.”

“can you count the number of women you’ve dated on all of your appendages?”

“does my tongue count?”

“gross.”

y/n’s eyes dart back and forth between yujin and sunghoon, and sunghoon is almost taken aback to the night before, with artemis and him going back and forth with their usual banter. ah. while the other members of the team knew to just ignore the two of them (or watch, if they wanted some entertainment for the day), y/n probably thought they were genuinely fighting.

it wasn’t as though she had many friends to banter with and the ‘friends’ that she did have weren’t exactly the bantering type. sunghoon shudders as he tries to imagine vandal savage engaging in harmless banter.

“did you hurt yourself?” y/n says softly, nodding at sunghoon’s bandages that were balled up in his fist. he looks down, eyebrows furrowed before realization strikes him.

“oh no, these aren’t bandages because i’m hurt; these are wraps that boxers wear to keep their fists protected when they’re boxing,” sunghoon says and even jake (who’s usually the most oblivious one of them all) can sense the shift in sunghoon’s tone when addressing y/n. where sunghoon was prone to having a rather stoic first impression, he was soft and gentle when speaking to y/n.

my bet’s that they’re gonna kiss in the next three weeks,jake says through the mind link.

i’m going for four, jay contests. sunghoon tries not to make the indignant feeling bubbling in his chest too obvious on his face.

i wouldn’t put it past sunghoon, but i’m giving the girl two months. i don’t think she really understands how romance works, yujin points out.

she’s watched the notebook. she knows what romance is, soojin disagrees.

“are you guys having a conversation without me in your minds?” y/n asks, glancing between them, and the team belatedly realizes that the room had been silent for too long to be appropriate. especially not with sunghoon looking at the rest of them as though he wanted to throw something sharp and pointy at them.

y/n crosses her arms over her chest and for the first time, sunghoon saw sheer disappointment on her face. the look made his chest tight and for some reason, he really didn’t want to see that look on her face directed towards him ever again. ever. “i really can’t tell if that’s really cool or…really, really rude.”

“sorry, it was something really stupid,” yujin says, trying appease y/n. her expression doesn’t give any leeway, and soojin makes her way over to y/n to nudge her slightly.

“really, it was super stupid. but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t rude. sorry y/n. we’ve grown rusty with welcoming new people when all of us are together since we haven’t had a new member since…well, since yujin,” she explains and y/n finally uncrosses her arms and sighs.

“it’s fine - i mean, i get that you guys have a super important history together and i would never do anything to try and intrude on that,” y/n concedes.

“look, i’m really sorry,” sunghoon says and y/n’s shoulders melt in the slightest when he does - something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

“it’s okay. now - uh, who do i shoot with a fireball first?”

“i thought you were just watching?”

“what can i say? i’m all fired up.”

“you and i are going to get along just fine.”

“shut up, kid.”

[march 19, 20XX, 10:21 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“break - break! jesus christ, what have they been feeding you in that other dimension?” jake wheezes, pressing a hand to his chest as he tries to catch his breath. y/n blinks innocently from where she’s standing on the other side of the mat, looking rather unfazed by the whole experience.

“uh, human food, i’m pretty sure. no ovens or refrigerators, remember?” y/n points out and jake blinks, now on the other side of the room, mid-bite as he was scarfing down a 7,000 calorie protein bar made specially for him.

“it was a rhetoric question,” he says in between bites and y/n nods as though she were taking mental note.

“right. uh - so who am i sparring next?” she says, awkwardly holding her hands out in the same position as she had done so before - effective, if jake’s wheezing is to say anything, but clearly off in practicality and skill.

“how about you spar with me?” sunghoon offers, casting his boxing gloves on the bench. he’d taken a break to watch y/n and see how she would adapt to a sudden situation where she could only rely on instinct rather than her underdeveloped pyretic skills, only to realize just how far behind she was in technical skill.

but if there was anything that her match with jake had indicated, what she lacked in technical skill, she made up for in sheer ability, with her ability to nearly predict what her opponent was going to do - even if said opponent was operating at superhuman speeds.

sunghoon figures that it’s a trauma response developed to sort of predict the behaviors of those around her in such an unpredictable environment. she also had a tendency to rely on her feet instead of her hands, which was a good thing when facing an opponent such as kid flash, who relies on his speed and arm skills and disadvantageous for pretty much everyone else.

“be careful, newbie. sunghoon’s undefeated against all of us except for yujin,” jay warns from where he’s also taking a break next to jake, soojin not far from him.

“i only beat him that one time he broke his leg,” yujin points out, but she’s quickly shushed by jake, who says something along the lines of, “don’t lose your street cred in front of your girlfriend.”

yujin, of course, lobs a sweaty towel at him shortly thereafter, but it was the thought that counted.

“should i be nervous?” y/n asks, and sunghoon shakes his head before stepping into the ring.

“don’t worry - i’m not trying to beat you or anything; i just want to correct a few small mistakes i’ve been seeing,” sunghoon explains gently, watching y/n’s worried expression melt off her face, although her limbs were still stiff with anticipation.

sunghoon steps one foot forward, to which y/n lunges backwards, wary and apprehensive of every move sunghoon made. “i’ m not going to hurt you, y/n.”

y/n nods, but it’s clear that she’s scared witless and sunghoon crosses his hands over each other to form a ‘t’ to indicate a time-out, casually walking forward towards y/n in hopes of making her feel more at ease.

but no sooner does he get within a foot of her does she lunge forward rather brashly, causing sunghoon to stumble backwards and toppling downwards - just barely saving himself by flipping over so that he was in a pushup position.

“get him while he’s down!” he hears yujin cry.

“i can’t believe a noob is about to beat sunghoon!” jake exclaims.

“oh my god, i can’t watch,” soojin says, her fingers crossed in front of her face with enough space that it was clear her eyes were 100% still watching.

“i might have never been taught how to fight - ” y/n begins, sweeping at sunghoon’s arms so that he would fall. he just barely avoids it by rolling forward, crouched on the balls of his feet as he watches y/n carefully. “ - but i did learn a thing or two about how to stay unsuspicious.”

“i’ll give you that,” sunghoon concedes after standing up, dipping into a gentleman’s bow, twirling out of the way when y/n tries to take the moment to push sunghoon down. “but it’s not enough to take me down.”

“i don’t doubt it,” y/n admits, awkwardly holding her arms out in what it she deemed to be a ‘threatening offense’ as she carefully circled the fight space, mirroring sunghoon’s movements.

“you don’t seem very bogged down by the truth,” he remarks and a catty smile flashes across y/n’s lips before disappearing just as soon as it had appeared.

“you don’t seem to be very discontent in my inability to take you down,” y/n throws back lightly.

“how long are they going to keep doing that?” jay whispers to soojin, who still has her fingers spread across her face, her face strangely tinted pink rather than her usual pale pallor.

“keep flirting or keep fighting?” yujin snorts from the other side of jay, ducking out of reach when soojin leans over to push yujin.

“they’ll hear you!” soojin shushes and jake rolls his eyes with a goodnatured shake of the head.

“the only person who has super hearing is jay and he’s sitting right next to you. i doubt they’re going to be able to hear us from forty feet away,” jake points out and soojin harrumphs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“we don’t know if y/n has super hearing,” soojin reminds the group and the three of them simultaneously face forward to see if y/n was listening to their conversation. either she was an incredible actress or she genuinely couldn’t hear anything because by the time they refocus on the scene in front of them, sunghoon’s warding off another well timed kick and the succeeding side swipe.

but what he doesn’t account for is y/n’s ability to turn around nearly as fast as sunghoon to try and land a punch. and while sunghoon does manage to swat away y/n’s fist, she’s unable to recover as quickly as sunghoon as she loses her balance trying to beat sunghoon. and sunghoon, in his panic to try and shield y/n’s fall, manages to topple downwards with her.

down, down, down until suddenly, every inch of y/n’s body is pressed against his own. from her toes to her - to her lips, pressed against sunghoon’s and although y/n’s powers are pyrokinetics, sunghoon feels as though his entire body has been doused in cold water as he realizes that technically, he is kissing y/n. or honestly, she’s kissing him but somehow the logistics of the situation are lost on sunghoon when he looks into her eyes, wide-eyed and confused.

have y/n’s eyes always been so…so bright?

it’s only when jay coughs obnoxiously loudly that he remembers his audience, and it seems that this is an adequate reminder for y/n as well, who rolls off of him rather unceremoniously.

the room is silent, almost painfully so as sunghoon and y/n seemingly process what just happened.

ardor - win. sunghoon - loss. the mat rings out unhelpfully and y/n looks as though she’s rebooting as she rises to her feet.

“is there any way to correct the system? i - i don’t think i actually won. not with conventional tactics anyway,” she splutters as sunghoon also composes himself enough to get off the floor.

“a win is a win!” jake calls out, wincing when sunghoon shoots him a withering look. this seems to kickstart the rest of the team back to life as jay offers y/n a water bottle and soojin flashes an award-winning smile at her.

“not bad for your first day on the training mat,” yujin says, casually throwing an arm around y/n’s shoulders.

jake, seemingly haven shaken off sunghoon’s nonverbal warning rather quickly, turns to the still somewhat confused man with a shit-eating grin. “you lost. you know what that means, right?”

this catches jay’s attention as well as he appears at the scene of the crime with an equally frightening smirk. “i vaguely recall someone saying that if someone beat him - ”

“ - he’d be their personal servant for a month?” yujin finishes and soojin giggles, quickly trying to hide her grin when sunghoon’s glare transfers from the terrible threes and lands on her instead.

“oh, oh no - i’m so sorry!” y/n exclaims, her face twisted into an expression somewhere in between guilt, shame, confusion, and anxiety. “please don’t regard this as a loss; the…accident from before was completely my fault and that wasn’t an official sparring match so - so that shouldn’t count as a win and you shouldn’t be held to those conditions.”

yujin watches as sunghoon turns to her, his gaze growing soft but somewhat guarded as he shakes his head with a good-natured smile.

“you won. there is no changing the system. and besides, in the field, one must be prepared for sorts of conditions and trials; it was my own fault that i lost so i must uphold the conditions i proposed,” sunghoon says but the words don’t seem to appease y/n’s mind at all.

soojin seems to notice as she steers y/n towards the exit of the training room.

“y/n, trust me. when it comes to wins from sunghoon, you take them where you can get them,” she says and y/n just nods, which is as much of a concession of her victory as soojin figures she’s gonna get.

yujin’s left in the training room with sunghoon by the time jake and jay gather their belongings also start to file out the training room (but not before jake smirks at sunghoon, indicating that they were gonna talk later).

“stop thinking so much,” yujin says, arms folded across her chest. sunghoon rolls his eyes before heading over to the bench to pick up his bandages and boxing gear.

“i’m not thinking,” sunghoon says and yujin snorts.

“normally, i’d love to agree with that statement but you’re overthinking and every single one of us can tell. including y/n.” yujin nods to y/n’s receding figure before turning back to sunghoon with an unimpressed look. “it was an accident.”

“i know,” sunghoon says, a little too quickly. “i mean, i know.”

yujin fixes him with a probing look before giving up, shrugging as she also starts to head out of the training room.

but it seems the surprises for the day are still abundant as y/n bursts into the room, looking more alarmed than yujin’s ever seen her before.

“don’t ask me how i know this but klarion’s back in town,” y/n trembles, eyes full of panic.

“and i think he knows where i am.”

#jnnul #sunghoon fic #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #enhypen #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #young justice #young justice au

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drksanctuary · 3 months ago

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DRK-SANCTUARY'S WIP/FIC MASTERPOST:

FINISHED/ WORKS IN PROGRESS:

BANDITS AND SHERIFFS:

Completed western AU for the PJO BigBang back in 2014. Around 50k words, collaboration with @thomas-life. Fictional "western setting" not historically accurate American west.

Original post for it HERE.

Link to Fic on Ao3: HERE

Title art HERE.

Character art HERE.

LIFTING THE MIST CURSE COMIC

(Mist Comic): A fan comic that chronicles an alternate timeline where Nico Meets Al after the event of BoO. Al comes to CHB to have people help him Lift the Mist Curse. (Rated M)

Chapter 1 HERE.

Miscellaneous Mist Comic:

Sketches

Excerpt with Al and Dionysus

nicobaster comic "Oreo Meme"

Nicobaster fluff scene

Dreams "amv" comic.

SON OF MAGIC VOLUME 2

(SoM V2): similar to mist comic Al and Nico meet after BoO (but waaay after in their early to mid 20's). Al is mired in the Olympian Underground/black market, Nico who is just trying to be a good camp recruiter gets dragged into Al's problems, but he kinda likes it. (Rated M)

Chapter 1 (TBD)

Miscellaneous SoM V2:

Post with better context

cover sketch draft

misc sketches and context

Al's updated club outfit

Silly meme

Excerpt from (likely) chapt 2

THE NEW GOLDEN AGE (Titan AU)

Al and Nico meet during the titan war, Titans end up winning with the help of the Giants. Like PJO but infinitely more YA novel about it. (Rated T)

Prologue: A03 post and link HERE, Regular Tumblr Post HERE

Chapter 1: HERE

Chapter 2: HERE

MAKING YOUR MARK ON ME (Tattoo AU) (EXPLICIT)

AU where Nico and Al meet as adults well after the wars. Alabaster Torrington owns a Magical Tattoo Parlor/Magic Shop. Nico di Angelo is a frequent customer, but when Nico goes there this time, it’s not for business… it’s for pleasure. (Rated E for language and sexual content. You have been warned)

Chapt 1 SFW (just the picture): HERE

Sketch of Alabaster SFW: HERE

Chapter 1: NFSW (Pic and fic) tumblr post HERE and Ao3 link HERE (rated M, really)

Chapter 2 (Actually rated E): on Ao3: HERE

HIDDEN GEM CAFE

technically the fic is a little fluff piece entirely written by @thomas-life not me but I drew the picture. link HERE. (Rated G)

CAMP CHTHONIC

More AN RP blog than a fic but if i do fics they will be posted on the sideblog: @campchthonic

OUT OF TARTARUS

A comic we started after the release of Mark of Athena. Nico escapes tartarus and immediately runs onto Alabaster. (rated T)

Chpt 1 Part 1/Pages 1-10 HERE

Chpt 1 Part 2/Pages 11-20 HERE

Chpt 1 Part 3/Pages 21-27 HERE

Chpt 2 Part 1/Pages 28-37 HERE

Chpt 2 Part 2/Pages 38-47 Pages HERE

Chapt 2 Part 3/Pages 38-57 (and bonus pg 58 posted later) HERE

A PIECE OUT OF PLACE

Victorian AU Jasico and Bianca/Alabaster (i know its odd but trust me it made sense). also i know, NOT NICOBASTER??? wha??? (Also rated M)

Jasico Week Picture And Summary HERE

Jasico Dramatic Kiss pic HERE

Jasico steamy scene pg 1 and 2 (kind of NSFW) HERE

Victorian Sketches HERE

Victorian Sketches (old) has Piper bc it was before we changed it to Bianca HERE

Cute Jasico Sketches HERE

Victorian Jasico Meet-cute HERE

Jason and the wolves HERE

SNIPPET FIC/IDEA DUMPS

CHTHONIC CAMP AU (fanfic for a fanfic)

Not to be confused with the camp Chthonic blog above these are all the links for stuff I did for my interpretations and headcanons and AUs for @gutsybitsies Chthonic Camp AU. Their original fic HERE.

Jason and Nico and Al. HERE.

Nicobaster ficlet. HERE

Nicobaster looking bamf. HERE.

Alabaster being extra: HERE

ANCIENT CHTHONIC NICOBASTER (rated M)

"But your highness our love is forbidden" pic. HERE

APHRODITE NICO/THEMIS AL

Original post: HERE

Post with Drew (Nico's sister): HERE

Aprodite!Nico and Mars!Jason: HERE

JACKSON HOUSE NICOBASTER (rated M ig)

Idea post HERE

SLUT AU (rated M)

Idea post HERE

NICOBASTER FANFIC TO ORIGINAL WORK PIPELINE

MEDIEVAL PJO (KnightSlayer)

"A bastard shall be king." ....So reads the Prophecy of the Ages. But with a war on the horizon and Hazel to feed, Nico has more to worry about than kings and their bands of upper class sycophants. That is, until Percy comes along, and suddenly he finds himself right in the middle of it all... (rated M)

Ao3 link: HERE

Al and Nico Meeting: HERE

Nico and Percy (kiss). HERE (might be considered mature by some)

Nico backstory. HERE (rated M for Violence)

Chapt Pictures i had planned. HERE

Ball Sketches HERE

Nico Backstory 2 (sad) HERE

Nico and Percy Thestral encounter HERE

Miscellaneous Medieval AU Nico Sketches: Sketch 1 HERE, Sketch 2 HERE, Sketch 3 HERE.

MERMAID AU (Through the Sea Glass)

Like "the little mermaid" but with extra fantasy world building and the prince (Nico) ACTUALLY falls in love with the Sea Witch (Alabaster) instead of the mermaid (Percy) rated G

Summary with pictures HERE

Octokind Alabaster HERE

PHANTOM AU - (Phantom Haven)

Nico's near-death experience endows him with powers and now he has to be a Savior which means he has to fight phantoms to keep people safe which would be a doable job, BUT that's not the only task of a Savior. He also has to uphold the integrity of the Savior System (ugh),Do good deeds and report them to his supervisor (double ugh), train his Lumen (dead eyed little thing doesn't like to listen to him so...ugh again!) and last but definitely not least he has to dedicate his life to figuring out how to use his endowment to cure a great societal problem... to perform... a MIRACLE TM. (yikes on bikes, no pressure). Will he be able to live up to the expectations of greatness that has been thrust upon him? or will he fail?

Character concepts 1-6 HERE

Character concepts 7-8 HERE

CHIP AU - (No original title yet)

Modern Human AU in which an aimless Nico's life is changed for the better when someone abandons their little baby girl (Hazel) on the steps of the refurbished fire house he now lives in. Years later he finds a little kid named Frank and adopts him as well. Now he just needs to navigate life as a single parent which he is mostly fine with until Bianca tries to set him up with her fiance's best friend (Alabaster). Will this romance stay the casual fling it started as or could it blossom into something more? (Rated M)

NIco with bb hazel HERE

CHURCH AU - (no original title yet)

An AU where Nico sells his soul to save his family from dying, when he meets his untimely death however he finds that Hell is not what he expected, its a quarry, and is he does his quotas, he can ascend the ranks, and even make it to heaven. Each Level comes with its own set of rules. The level right before heaven, which requires Demons to go to earth to collect evil humors that taint people's souls, has the MOST rules. With him being unable to see his family, not knowing what he's doing, and finding out that his childhood friend has grown into a handsome...Preist in training?!? Nico finds that he can't keep the all of the rules straight, especially because he's not. (Rated M)

Nico as a Demon pic HERE

There's quite a few more AUs but the above shows most of them.

If you'd like to know more about the above or about the ones not mentioned please subscribe to "Nicobaster premium" for the low low price of Free.99! And if you are 18 or older and interested I also have Nicobaster Premium 18+ (for the same price for all your smutty needs. Tee Hee!)

That's all, Nicobaster Houshold!...FOR NOW!

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 2 years ago

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It’s gone midnight and I’m thinking about Six of Crows so y’all know what that means: it’s time for a long rambling thought process that will hopefully have some interesting insights into the books in it.

I want to talk about the animal, mostly bird, symbolism of these books because although it’s obviously something we’re very aware of I also think it’s something that runs a lot deeper than we necessarily always realise/talk about. Even when people aren’t being directly involved in bird metaphors (crows, pigeons, peacocks) they are often described as “squawking”, “flapping”, or with other phrases that further this semantic field.

Now the crows is obviously the main source of the symbolism, and it’s openly talked about in the book with the speech on how the recognise human faces and how they support each other. I’ve also seen a few people online talking about the Crows in conjunction with a poem/nursery rhyme about crows (it’s one of those that has many different versions spun of it, some know it was counting magpies rather than crows) wherein 6 crows symbolises gold, of course greatly linked to the plot of the novels as well as their anti-extreme capitalism message. It’s also key to mention that crows are massively underestimated birds in the general public view; they’re far ‘smarter’ animals than we would typically expect. Crows have a very high brain to body mass ratio, I believe the highest of any birds but don’t quote me on that, and although we understand very little about the brain the size ratio is currently considered a very good indicator for the general intelligence level of the animal. Crows can make tools, hide their food, mate for life, and - VERY interestingly for this book analysis - have even been suspected to hold funerals. Now I want to be clear I’m working on a mix of random knowledge and the first helpful looking website that came up when I googled ‘fun facts about crows’ so I am by no means an expert here, but to my understanding the practice that was initially considered to be a ‘crow funeral’ is actually a process wherein crows will gather around a dead crow to look for potential danger. So I feel like the links I’m establishing here are relatively obvious, the point is that, like the birds themselves, the Crows are undervalued, underestimated, and unexpectedly successful. But the symbol of the crow in these books arguably goes even further.

The crow-headed handle of Kaz’s cane represents everything about the crow I’ve already mentioned on top of his own symbolic layering to the cane as a sign that no part of him has not been broken, and no part him is not better for having been broken. So in Chapter 27 of Crooked Kingdom, when Kaz returns to the Slat and fights the Dregs before leading a coup against Per Haskell, the cane with the fake crow’s head that Haskell has contrived to mock him effectively represents the failing of everything the Dregs represent. They’re last, the remnants, the people with nowhere else to go: they are the people who have been broken and have made something new for themselves. Except Haskell. So the sheer ridiculousness of him mocking Kaz’s cane, something he clearly thought would win him favour and success, in the end becomes one of the biggest aspects of his downfall. Inej describes the moment when the Dregs begin to support Kaz, the way the look at Per Haskell with discomfort - “the feathers in his hat, the canes in his hands” (and then she goes on to highlight how they’ve seen Kaz use his cane in fights, “wielded with such precision”, whereas Haskell is washed-up, pathetic, never could have taken the fight Kaz did and walked out the other side). Of course they realise, then, how completely and utterly wrong all of this was. Because when they’re confronted with both of those canes they realise something. They know what Kaz’s cane represents; it’s power and strength in spite of a world that has that has scorned him, it’s taking something that was broken and not fixing it but emphasising it and making it into a threat, into a symbol, into a strength. They know that, even though they don’t know what happens in Kaz’s head, because they see themselves in that. The Dregs; the literal bottom of the Barrel, who have been broken and who have clawed their way to survival. They cannot see themselves in Haskell’s mockery cane. Haskell is not a man who reflects what the Dregs are at their core, but Kaz is. The emphasis on the feathers is also really interesting, because I think it’s implying a sort of gaudy, colourful feathering that (despite fitting in with the style of the Barrel) does not represent the symbol of the crow; it is not something shadowed, something half hidden that could have an unexpected bite. It’s almost more akin to Heleen’s gaudy peacock feathers than it is to anything the Dregs understand, or represent through being Crows.

The pigeons I don’t really see anyone talking about, but I think it’s pretty interesting. The idea of ‘the pigeon’ is the same as ‘the mark’; they’re the victim, the fool who’s easy to swindle. I think the imagery of the fools being pigeons, ie being everywhere and massively populating big cities, is really clever to show a divide between the few, the Crows, and the many, the pigeons. However, it’s not only the Crows who remark on others being ‘pigeons’, but other gangs as well. When Kaz confronts Pekka about the scam he ran on him and Jordie, he says “you were just two pigeons, and I happened to be the one who plucked you”. I’m not gonna lie to you guys I’m losing my point slightly, but I just googled ‘crows and pigeons’ and the first thing that came up was about how crows sometimes eat pigeons so I reckon that’s pretty relevant.

Ok I’m really tired and I feel like I’m clutching at straws here, so I dunno I guess if this does well then I’ll cover peacocks, lions, and the general semantic field of birds in another post. I hope at least some of this made sense, thanks for reading it if you bothered to get this far

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #nina zenik #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik #crows #soc #fantasy analysis #fantasy books #book analysis #assorted analysis - grishaverse

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racergirl-112 · 5 months ago

Text

Push Me Over - Chapter 9: Wreck Me Again

**Photo Cred: Google**

MDNI

Warnings: Language, talks of depression

Dani got to set a while later and saw the paper in her door, she grabbed it and walked inside, setting her stuff down and sitting on her couch. She opened the letter and read what Hugh had to say. She began to cry as she knew this not only solidified her loving this man, but he felt the same way about her. She wanted to talk to him, but knew she didn’t want to be some kind of secret. She set the letter down and began to get ready.

On today’s episode of trying to not make the people around them feel uncomfortable, Dani and Hugh had to work together on a fight scene. They were set to fight each other, getting them ready for the fight with Cassandra’s people.

“Alright Hugh, you’re going to come at her with the claws and she is going to zap you. She will end up on top of you when it’s said and done and Logan is supposed to be angry he lost, but turned on that she’s this close to him,” Shawn finished.

Hugh looked at Dani and vice versa as they nodded in agreement. The crew staging them for the scene and rigging them up.

“And action,” Shawn yelled. ***************

Stargazer charged at Logan in an attempt to get the leg up on him or to maybe show off as well. Logan catches her with his claws as Stargazer zaps him, throwing him back.

“Is that all you got, Bub?” he snarls.

“We’re just getting started,” she smirks. She comes at him again as he catches her by the waist and throws her on the ground. She lets out a scoff.

“Is this funny to you?” he asks, standing over her.

“Maybe I just like it,” she jokes, launching herself upward and toward Logan. They continue to fight until one of Stargazer’s zaps sends them into each other, both falling to the ground, her on top of him.

“You’re a fucking smartass,” Logan smirks.

“I think it turns you on,” she whispers, their lips inches apart.

Logan goes to kiss her, but Wade interrupts them.

“Oh yay, he does have a heart and a hard-on after all,” he jokes. Both Logan and Stargazer roll their eyes as they get up off the ground. ************************************************

“And cut,” Shawn said. “That was amazing you two. I can’t wait to see how it looks with all the special effects thrown in.”

Ryan walked over to where Hugh and Dani stood. “If you two haven’t already fucked, I’d say that scene might as well sent you two over the edge,” he whispered.

Dani’s eyes got wide at his comment, before covering her face laughing. Hugh also started laughing.

“Let’s take a break for a bit and we’ll get back to it.”

Hugh walked over to where his phone was and saw Deb had replied to his text. He walked off set for privacy, hoping to get the news out there sooner than later.

One Week Later

Hugh and Deb had decided after their phone call what they wanted to say regarding their divorce and after talking to the kids, they agreed when the statement would be released. He felt like it had been the longest week ever. For once, even if the news wasn’t going to be the happiest, it meant that he could be with Dani. Well, if she still wanted to be.

Today, they were filming the scene where the crew was headed to fight Cassandra. Dani had to sit in the trunk of the van with Hugh. His eyes locked on her and probably her tits that were pushed so far up in her costume.

“Hey old man, my face is up here,” she joked, trying to break the tension.

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he replied. “I told you before, I like the view.” Dani should have known that shit would backfire on her.

Before they began filming, Ryan came to the back of the van. “Hugh, did you know this was published?” He showed his phone to Hugh. The headline reading, Hugh Jackman and wife Deborra-Lee Furness divorce after 27 years of marriage. The couple say they have nothing but respect and love for one another and won’t be commenting any further on the matter.”

Dani’s face was white as a ghost as Shawn came walking up. “Sorry man, I know it must be hard,” he said, putting his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. He looked at his niece who looked like she might throw up.

“You ok kiddo?” her uncle asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she stammered, looking up at Hugh. Her eyes as big as a deer in headlights.

“Hey Shawn, let’s take 5,” Ryan suggested. The rest of the cast got out of the van, leaving Hugh and Dani.

“What, why?” she finally mustered.

“Why not?” he started. “It was bound to get out sometime. It was time for everyone to know. Deb and I knew it was a matter of time.”

“Hugh, if this is because of what I said…,” she started.

“Dani, listen, you weren’t the cause or the reason. We needed to move on to the next chapter of our lives.”

Dani just looked dumbfounded, but maybe also relieved. Before she had a chance to reply with something she was going to regret, she removed herself from the situation, getting out of the van and walking back to her trailer.

“What the fuck was that about? Sorry about that Hugh, Dani isn’t usually like that,” Shawn said. Ryan looked at Hugh.

“It’s fine. It’s my fault,” he answered.

“I don’t see how her attitude is your fault,” Shawn replied. Hugh looked at his friend and director with a look that helped Shawn register pretty fast why he said what he said. He pulled Hugh off to the side. “My niece? Fuck, seriously?”

“I’m sorry Shawn. We were afraid to tell anyone, especially her with telling you. She broke it off with me for that purpose and the fact that only a few people knew I was divorced, including her. She’s spectacular.” He watched his friend’s face start to relax.

“If this works or if it doesn’t, don’t let it ruin your professional relationship. Also, I don’t want to know what a guy who is also one of my best friends is doing with my niece. Now go get her so we can finish shooting.”

“You got it,” Hugh replied, a huge smile on his face. He went jogging out of the soundstage to the trailer lot. It had begun to rain as he reached Dani’s trailer. He knocked on the door, still in costume. She came to the door, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Can’t you just let me have some space?” she asked, standing in the door, arms crossed.

“Please come out here,” he started.

“Why?” she challenged.

“Just do it, please.” She exited the trailer and to where he stood, her arms crossed. “Just so you know, I can’t stay away from you. I did it all for you and for me to be able to be with you. Your Uncle knows too.”

“What the fuck, Hugh,” she started, covering her face with her hand. He pulled her to him.

“I did it for us. I’ve fallen in love with you Dani,” he replied, cupping her cheek and kissing her with such force, it felt like lightning strikes throughout her body.

“Wait, you love me? Isn’t it a bit soon?” she breathed, breaking the kiss. He shook his head.

“I can’t explain how I feel about you any other way.” Dani wanted to give in so bad, but he literally just announced his divorce that day. She backed away as she could feel the tears beginning to form in her eyes.

“Hugh,” she whispered, the tears beginning to fall. “Can we talk about this later? This isn’t the place.” She walked back into her trailer, shutting the door and sinking to the floor as she knew she hadn’t just broken Hugh’s heart, but obviated hers at the same time. She pulled herself together the best she could before going back to set.

He felt like someone had gut-punched him and this one was hurting almost as bad as when he and Deb had decided to divorce. Maybe he had been out of the game for so long that he had overstepped, but he knew he loved her. Plain and simple. He hoped she would actually talk to him and tell him what was really bothering her because it had to be more than just him being newly divorced.

Ryan was talking to Shawn when they saw Hugh and Dani walk back on set, not together. Dani went back to where she had been staged earlier as Ryan caught Hugh.

“What the fuck happened?” Ryan questioned.

“She said she couldn’t do it right now. It fucking hurt mate.”

“It’s ok man. Maybe she’ll come around if you care about her that much.” Hugh shrugged, defeated. As Hugh walked over to the van, Ryan looked over at Dani and could clearly tell she wasn’t taking the situation well either, but she was holding it together the best she could. Even if they could act fine around each other to finish this movie, he knew that these two lit up around each other and he was determined in their own time to help them along.

@kellyxo1

#hugh jackman #fanfic #hugh jackman smut #daddy k!nk #deadpool #deadpool x wolverine #hugh jackman fanfic #logan wolverine smut #older guys #heartbreak #feelings #fanfiction #logan howlett #logan wolverine

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cressthebest · 9 months ago

Text

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 33

chapter 52:

1. why is the title “boggarts” …. i’m so worried

2. dorcas just put lucius in his place 😌

3. 😐 laser eyes at mcgonagall. i know why she’s doing it, but this boggart is pissing me off

4. nothing is a more powerful motivator than wanting to beat your siblings

5. NOOOoooo ELI! NO! i had hopes he’d last till the escape

6. once again, making connections. the horcrux hornet venom is like the cruciatus curse

7. that boggart to marlene was CRUEL

8. omg that boggart is getting worse. pulled out vanity and hodge. imma catch hands with someone

9. 😦 if marlene doesn’t make it out of the maze i’m gonna fucking lose it

10. “Like the person [Sirius] fought in his last games where he quite literally bit their finger off. A whole finger. Blood and muscle and bone. He bit right through and spit it out. Didn't choke, didn't gag, didn't even slow down.”

😦😦 also canon peter pettigrew reference!!

11. NARCISSA!! MY GIRL!! she has to make it out plsss

12. reg saved marlene ☺️☺️☺️

13. 😐 i am not amused by the james boggart at all

14. i am in fact PISSED at the james boggart

15. james boggart dying and regulus crying like he never has before has me SOBBING

16. james is both upset that reg thinks he’s dead, and so so pleased that he’s loved so intensely. and i- yeah. yeah, he’s right about that one, i’m afraid

17. reg even in his head is so casually like ☺️☺️ my fiancé

18. shit SHIT NO!! AUGUSTA!!

19. the augusta and alice scene is HEARTBREAKING and the fact that frank has to watch and can only touch the screen and AAAAHHH

20. “Now, this—oh, this is fucking brutal, and Sirius relishes in it.”

that fight with bellatrix was long coming yet i’m so scared for it

21. bellatrix has a spear and literally all sirius thinks is “Well, great. Just great. There she goes, and—yep, she has it. Lovely.” 😭😭😭 he sounds so british like “pip pip how unfortunate”

22. 😧 bellatrix admitted to having attempted to murder sirius by pushing him down the stairs. yo, i don’t think that’s how you treat a kid

23. holy shit holy shit, sirius just caught the spear as it was thrown at him. bro that’s wild

24. … um wtf. actually. sirius got pulled into the hedge and the cannon sounds. but like… pov??

25. nobody listens to reg. like my man was literally like “if you kill sirius, i kill you” and yet they’re somehow surprised when he kills them

26. “Regulus' very sense of identity is stamped with Sirius' signature. He is who he is because of Sirius, and he can never be anything else, and he doesn't even really want to be.”

um actually that’s the sound of my heart shattering into a million and one pieces

27. reg: I THOUGHT YOU DIED??

sirius: lmao no?

28. “"I'm not scared of anything," Regulus croaks, because he is scared of too many things to even count, because is scared of everything and everything itself.”

this is sad but like so so so relatable of him

29. when augusta dies and frank breaks down sobbing around everyone, i’m so fucking pissed that he had to witness that, that others had to witness his breakdown, and that he’s in the position of knowing she was in the arena for him. i’m so angry at riddle

30. fuck YEAH james is about to get recruited. thank fucking god

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #sirius black #crimson rivers #frank longbottom #augusta longbottom #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #marlene mckinnon #i always wanna tag everyone i mention #but i know if i tagged dor cas for example #it would be very disappointing to be looking for content about her #and this showing up #so i only try to tag people i mention a few times each post #boggart

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wandafiction · 11 months ago

Text

Just Add 8 - Just Us Chapter 7

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1947

Series List | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

================================

"Wait, how old are you?!"

Ding. The bell of the elevator goes off informing the two of us that we have made it to the parking garage, so instead of answering her I place my right hand at the small of her back leading her out. Quietly, I lead her to the car I will be taking her home in. This is one of my least expensive cars, I don't think Wanda would appreciate driving around New York in anything too expensive, so the Mazda Mx-5 will do. I do love this car though. I open the passenger door for her, making sure she is in before shutting the door and getting in the driver's side. I keep the hard top up because it is raining outside, so the roof will most definitely be staying up.

"How old do you think I am Wanda?" I break the silence I created, trying to decide whether I tell her or gauge what she thinks.

"Well now I think you're younger than I thought so you might take that as offensive." She fiddles with her fingers slightly looking down at her lap, as I start to car a gentle purr can be heard from the engine.

"I won't be offended, I promise. So how old did you think I was and why?" I pull out of the parking garage joining the morning rush of cars on the road. Traffic, gotta love it.

"Well I think maybe it was the suit, the hair and the makeup. But also maybe it was the way you presented yourself, very certain and very mature. Also you drink whisky like an old man." I laugh at her last reason.

"That's why. What about the how?" I glance at her for a few seconds while sitting at a red light.

"I would say mid to late 20s?" Her pitch in voice getting higher at the end, now very unsure of herself.

"So like around 27, 28. That sort of age?"

"Yeah. However, now that I'm seeing you in everyday clothes, your hair in a loose bun and little to no makeup, you do look younger than that. I don't know what it is, just seeing you all relaxed makes you look, I don't know...not so big?" She clicks her fingers a few times trying to think of the right words. "I mean you're tall, very mature, you seem to be certain of yourself, but you seem to have a childlike look when you're relaxed. No offence."

"Non taken."

"Wait, you're not a minor right?! You're not THAT young...right?" Wanda panics suddenly when she thinks about her last statement.

I place my hand gently on her thigh, keeping my eye on the road ahead. "I'm not a minor Wanda, do not panic."

"Fucking hell, I scared myself for a second." She rubs the back of her hand against her forehead, calming herself down.

"Well I'm not a minor so nothing to worry about…" I look at the road ahead and realise I have no idea where I'm going, we have just been driving around New York. "Changing the subject real quick. Where am I going?"

"Oh right. Do you mind if I input it into the GPS?" I wave my hand towards the touch screen in the car, so she leans forwards fiddling with it to set the destination.

"So now you know I'm not a minor, and that I'm also not in my late 20s. Any idea?" She leans back in her chair turning her body to face me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe trying to make an estimation.

"Can you not just tell me. Pretty pwease." Ah, that was so cute! She changed her voice to sound like a child pronouncing please. Now I can't deny her.

"So how old are the twins again?"

"14. Why?"

"Okay add 8 on to that."

"22." She takes a second. "You're 22?! 22! 22! You're 22? Holy shit. I slept with someone 11 years younger than me."

"Okay Wanda you're freaking out. Is it a bad thing." I'm kind of unsure of her reaction, I can't get a good reading of her emotions.

"No, no. Oh god no. Sorry. No." And now she can't string a sentence together, great. I peer over at her as I pull into her road only a few minutes away from where she lives. "No, it's not a bad thing at all y/n. Not a bad thing. Just a big surprise that's all. I mean I think the fact that you're only 8 year older than the boys made it sound worse."

"Okay, so don't tell people how old you are by comparing your age with their children. Lesson learned." That earns a laugh from her and smacks on the arms. As she seems to calm down, I only just register what she said about your age. "So you're 33?"

"I am." I have a smug smile on my face. "Why the smug look?"

"Because after the whole picture in the elevator, I figured you were about 32."

"Oh so you're smug because you didn't completely misjudge my age."

"Exactly."

"You're hilarious really." She looks out the window as we pull up to an apartment complex, Wanda goes all shy again. "Well this is me, uhm. If you just want to pull in next to my car, the red one, I will hop out."

"Okay sure thing. Do you want me to walk you to your door, or will the twins question my presence." I give her shoulder a nudge so she knows I'm only mentioning the twins in jest, don't freak her out y/n she has already had a few of those today.

"No, the twins are actually at their dad's this week and the next." So I might get to see more of her, that's nice. "So no I wouldn't mind you walking me to my door."

I nod, getting out of the car making my way around to her side opening the door for her. Being the gentlewoman I am, I offer her a hand as well to help her out. Wanda smiles up at me, turning to close the door gently, continuing to hold my hand as she leads me up the stairs into the complex. It doesn't take long to stop in front of her door: apartment 10.

"So this is me. Can I see you again?" She moves her free hand to my free hand, now holding our hands in between us as I rub my thumbs across the back of her hand.

"You have my number, I would like to see you again Wanda. I enjoyed your company, not just last night but this morning too. Like I said, you have my number so you decide if you want to use it. I won't be offended, that much, if you don't." A smile down at her while she squeezes my hands gently. God I want her to use my number.

"I will use your number, but I am having a girls night, with Sharon, Nat and her sister Yelena so it probably won't be until tomorrow or something."

"Well I look forward to it." She beams up at me, shuffling on her feet slightly as her fingers intertwine in-between mine alternating between standing on her toes to her heels. "What do you want to ask?"

"Just. Can I kiss you?" Wanda asks sweetly, my heart practically skips a beat and the butterflies in my stomach seem to be very lively.

"You can, you don't have to ask to kiss me."

Wanda pulls our hands around her back, keeping her hands locked with mine, stepping up on her tiptoes; and leaning her head back puckering up her lips as her eyes stare intensely into mine. Only now do I see how green they actually are. The club lights were too dim to show them off, we were lost in lust last night and with my head between her legs a lot of the time I hardly had time to appreciate them, and this morning she was in the bath. However, I can see them for their true beauty now. Such a vivid green, like a forest in the middle of spring or summer. So alive with life that everything is a pure swirling mixture of bright and dark greens.

Lost in the forest that are her eyes, I jump slightly when I feel her hands move up my arms to cup either side of my neck running her fingers along my jawline.

"Lost in that inner turmoil again?" Her voice so soft, barley a whisper obviously aware of my little jump and not wanting to scare me further.

"No, no. Just looking at you."

"You like staring huh?" She smiles as her thumb of one of her hands runs across my bottom lip.

"Admiring." Wanda playfully rolls her eyes, but keeping the atmosphere calm. "I was going to kiss you, but then I sort of got lost in your eyes, cheesy I know. But I haven't had time to see the true color of them."

"Your right. That's cheesy, but I appreciate the flattery." I smile softly as I lean down, as she puckers up her lips again a playful glint in her eyes.

As our lips meet we both let out a small sigh, closing our eyes and enjoying the moment. There is no fight for dominance or no sign of lust. Its just the two of us pouring everything into the kiss. I smile against her lips, which causes her to smile, basically breaking the kiss apart. I rest my forehead against hers, as her hands go from my neck and jaw to the back of my neck playing with my baby hairs.

"I will let you get ready for your girls evening." She gives me a quick peck, smiling bashfully at me.

"I will text you."

"I can't wait." I peck her lips one last time as she removes herself from me, rifling through her bag to get to her keys.

"You just going to stand there like a weirdo?" Wanda asks as she places the key in the keyhole.

"Yup." I say popping the P. "Well I'm a gentlewoman, so I got to make sure you get home safely."

"We are literally at my door." I shrug.

"And I might have left, and then you might have found out that you left your key at my place. But by the time you make it down the stairs I would have already driven away. And then you would have messaged me, which in turn would cause me to go home. Get the key. Come back. All that time locked outside your door, anything could happen. It's New York, unfortunately." A shit eating grin on my face appears after I finish my theory.

"Well I'm Sokovian, so I can handle myself." She jests.

"Of course you can, I have no doubt. But you can never be too safe. So now that I can see your doors open, and you about to walk in. I will say by goodbye and turn around." I turn around as I say so, and start walking off waving behind my back. I smile when I hear her laugh shouting something like 'weirdo' down the hall.

Sitting back down in the car I let out a whisper scream, in excitement, as my internal scream causes me to shake in excitement. Holy shit! That just happened! The whole night and morning. I can't wait to hear from her. I turn my car on, and start driving home. The smile never leaving my face.

================================

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #just us series

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phoebepheebsphibs · 8 months ago

Text

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 27: Ecology

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Casey is helping Mikey to pack essentials.

"Paints?"

Mikey nods.

"Paper?"

Mikey nods.

"Any clothes?"

Mikey stops mid-nod.

Huh. He actually hadn't thought about that...

Mikey looks down at his bare self. Casey wears clothes, April wears clothes, Drrrrrrrrraxum (he forgot his name for a sec) wears clothes, even Splinter wears clothes! His brothers wear clothes, to some extent. Sometimes they wear sweaters or hoodies or shirts, but mostly they wear things like masks and belts and gloves or wrappings over their arms. Mikey doesn't wear anything at all.

"Mmm, yes, pack clothes. Wwwwwhat, uh... what should Mikey -- I, what should I pack?"

"Well, in case it gets cold, maybe a sweater or something," Casey offers. "Do you wanna look through some of your stuff?"

Mikey nods and creeps next to Casey as he opens up a dresser drawer. It's filled with sweatshirts and jackets and pullovers.

"Which one looks good to you?"

"Mmmmmm.... um, I-I don't know," Mikey mumbles, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of choices.

He didn't think there would be this many clothes to pick from...

Casey sees the slight agitation on Mikey's face.

"Well, we should probably pick one that will keep you warm, so a thicker one is best," he suggests. "And maybe something soft? Oh, and let's look for a bigger size to fit over your shell..."

Casey starts to rummage through the drawer. He pulls out a hoodie with a sun decal and examines it.

"How's this one?" he asks.

"Looks good," Mikey says, sniffing it. It smells kind of like him! A little different than he smells now, but still similar... "W-will it ffffit?"

"Let's try," Casey replies, spreading it open and helping to direct Mikey's head and arms into the corresponding holes.

It's a big size, and Mikey vanishes in the hood. His talons are hidden by the sleeves, he flaps them around with a giggle. It's a surprisingly big hoodie, and Mikey wonders why he ever got something so huge. He doesn't recall that it was a gift for Raph but he'd outgrown it quickly, and gave it to the sunniest brother in the group.

"I like this one," Mikey chirps gleefully. "Can I keep it on?"

"Sure," Casey smiles. "It's yours anyway. We should find a few more to pack, though..."

"Big one!" Mikey requests. "Like this big!"

"Uh, well, I think that might be the biggest hoodie you have... Raphael might have a few we can borrow. I'll find some extras of yours to pack, though... while I do that, why don't you go get your blankets and pillows ready?"

Mikey chirps and crawls over to his bed -- whoop!

Mikey trips on his sleeve and crashes.

"Mikey! You okay?"

"Mm-hmm!" He says quickly, regaining his balance. "All good!"

Mikey shakes himself out and goes again -- whoop!

Mikey tumbles slightly, but catches himself. He tries folding the sleeves up above his wrists, but they fall loose and drape over his knuckles and drag across the floor as he trots. Mikey grumbles softly as he tries to figure this out...

"What's wrong?" Casey asks.

"Mmmngh... can't move right," Mikey groans. "Sleeves too long..."

"Do you need me to cut them or --"

"No, just... hmm. I can't mmmmove. Won't fold up right... can C-C-C-Casey help?"

Casey looks over the situation carefully, coming up with possible solutions.

"Well, if I fold them, they'll probably just fall loose again," he says. "You won't be able to crawl around in that."

"Do I have to take it off?"

"No, but there is another solution."

"Eh?" Mikey perks up. "What to do?"

"Have you tried walking upright?"

Mikey pauses, mouth open. His hands fidget.

"Haven't tried yet.... a l-little nervous..."

"Do you wanna try now? I'll help!" Casey offers, standing up and offering a hand to him. "I'll catch you if you fall."

Mikey swallows nervously. He reaches out for Casey's hand and takes it, careful not to grip him too hard for fear of cutting his skin with his nails. Casey pulls him up, causing Mikey to stumble with a cry.

"I got you, I got you!" he reassures him. "You're okay... Okay, you've got your balance?"

"Mm-hmmmmmmm," Mikey says with a nervous twinge in his voice.

"Alright, so follow my lead, one foot out --"

Casey swings his right leg forwards, taking a small step. Mikey watches as if Casey just jumped fifty buildings in one leap. He shakily lifts his own leg, and follows. He wobbles as he moves, almost losing balance and tipping over, but Casey holds his hand with determination.

Casey then moves his left foot to match. Mikey follows slowly, weakly. His legs shake. It's mostly just the balance that's his issue. The new tail is throwing him off, trying to readjust to the new center of gravity. But Mikey is figuring it out. Casey holds his hand like he's a toddler, walking with him around the room and giving words of affirmation and praise as he starts to pick up the pace. Casey steps further and further away from Mikey the longer they walk, letting him gain confidence in himself and get used to walking alone. The two get distracted from the packing and start roaming the halls. Casey lets go of Mikey's hand --

"No wet go!" Mikey scolds.

He's only a year old, and can barely get his points across, but he's trying. Splinter holds his tiny, stubby hands and uses his own claws to keep him upright as the tiny tot tries walking for the fourth time today, sixteenth time this week, fortieth time this month.

"I won't," Splinter promises with a sigh.

It's only been a year since the mutations, and he's still getting used to walking himself. Every once in a while, his tail will smack him in the leg, he'll forget it's there and think a strange snake got into the lair and try to protect the boys from it before realizing in embarrassment what it actually is. He's getting better with it, though...

Though parenthood is a new challenge he can't say he ever expected. The worry that he may mess up irrevocably without realizing it, the fear that maybe there will be an issue in health that he doesn't know how to solve, and even small things, like the differences in each son and learning curves or gaps.

The rest of the boys are walking. But Mikey is the baby, he's having trouble. He seems to be the 'special' baby, the late bloomer. He can crawl like his brothers do, but not as fast. They all can walk, Raphael can even run by this point! And the others can swim like experts. But Mikey almost drowned in his very first bath. Splinter might be babying him a bit, taking extra caution with him in some aspects... he does it for each baby. He's terrified of Donatello getting hurt because of his soft shell, so he is extra gentle. He's sure that Raphael is never alone because he'll start crying, and he lets him sleep in bed with him at night rather than in the box with the others. Leonardo is an attention hog and cries when he doesn't have the spotlight, so Splinter has to praise him a lot to help him feel validated. And Michelangelo is smaller than the rest, and for whatever reason he can't seem to stay on his feet for very long.

Despite all this, Mikey is determined and optimistic. But he's still nervous, and holds his father's hand with all his might. He fits within Splinter's palm, and Splinter helps to balance the baby boxshell as best he can without knocking him over.

Mikey takes a deep breath and swings his leg out. His foot hits the floor with a loud 'plap', and he swings his other leg out as well.

Splinter holds his hand behind him gently, his youngest son clinging to his fingers. Eventually, he takes the hand behind him away. He slowly leads Mikey around the area, guiding him by moving his finger in certain directions.

"Mikey say no wet go!" the baby shouts again when his father's hand drifts away faster than Mikey can keep up.

"I'm not letting go," Splinter explains. "I'm just moving my hand a little."

"Dada go too fast," Mikey scolds. "Dada no wet go."

"I won't," he promises.

Splinter and Mikey travel all around the room, with the little baby toddling around as best he can. It seems like he might be getting the hang of it!

Mikey trips and tumbles, having been distracted by the memory.

Casey grabs his arm as he reaches out for him, pulling Mikey back up as best he can.

"Whoah! Mikey, you okay?"

"Uh-huh," Mikey mumbles quickly, regaining his footing and holding onto Casey as though his life depended on it. "I'mmmmmm okayyyyy... jus' tripped."

"Okay," Casey says with a smile. "But so far, are you okay? Walking all good?"

"Shaky," Mikey says. "T-r-r-r-ricky... but, okay."

"Great," Casey nods. "It'll be a little difficult at first, but you'll get it!"

"Casey doing good job helping," Mikey says with a chuckle as he takes another step forward. "Thank you..."

"It's no problem," Casey says with a soft chuckle in return. "It's nothing compared to helping Sensei with his physical therapy after he lost his arm..."

"Huh?" Mikey asks in confusion. He's mentioned 'Sensei' before... who is he?

"Oh, n-nothing. Just something that happened in the alternate future..."

"Casey wanna talk about it?" Mikey asks.

Casey looks at Mikey in surprise. Everyone has been avoiding the subject of the future as though hearing more about it will bring about a crazy time curse or something.

But... if Mikey wants to know... what can it hurt?

"Well... okay! See, in the future..."

Casey talks on and on, explaining how Leo had lost his arm and had difficulty getting used to the physical therapy, and Casey helped him to adjust. Casey talks about how Donatello created a prosthetic arm that was equipped with weapons and equipment, and when Casey (who eight years old at the time) wanted one, Donatello made him a special glove fitted with a grappling hook so he could match his Sensei. Casey talks about how Mikey was an inspiration and kept the positivity in the Resistance, using his mystic powers to create all kinds of beautiful magic for the people and immeasurable protections and attacks against the Krang.

Mikey listens to Casey intensely, despite the fact that none of it makes any sense whatsoever to him.

Leo walks out and places his stuff down by the exit. There's a pile growing already, with duffel bags and totes and a few boxes of things that the group will need to occupy themselves. Leo packed several comics for himself, as well as puzzles and games for Mikey so he can exercise his brain. Raph packed up a flurry of stuffed animals, and was also tasked with packing Mikey's memory goop. April finished packing snacks for them to munch on while at Draxum's, and she also took the lead for gathering up Mikey's art supplies, too. Donnie packed an army's worth of purple jackets and hoodies and all of his tech and information on Mikey's double-mutation. He still hasn't given up trying to find a cure, despite knowing that there won't be one. Splinter packed up a few robes, his Lou Jitsu film collection, and as many scrapbooks as he could fit.

Leo notices that -- despite the enormous pile -- there are still a few bags missing.

Specifically orange bags.

Casey was supposed to help Mikey get packed up, but he hasn't seen or heard from either of them for a while. What are they up to?

Leo searches the lair, finding the two walking along one of the halls together. Mikey is standing upright, rather than crouched down on the floor on all fours. He's walking! Actually walking? Leo had been wondering about that, whether or not Mikey could still stand up or not.

He's a little shaky, but he's got the spirit. Mikey looks happy, but not completely confident in himself; he's holding onto CJ like a lifeline, refusing to let go as they roam around the rec room together, arm in arm.

Casey keeps Mikey entertained as they walk, talking on and on about...

Leo stops and feels his head go numb as he hears what Casey Jones Jr. is talking about.

"...And then Sensei grabbed the Krang dog by the leg and threw it at --"

"Hey, guys," Leo says, waving at them. "What's going on in here?"

"Oh, hey Leo!" CJ says with a nervous smile. "I was just helping Mikey try walking again. And, uh, we just started talking, and..."

"Casey is confusing!" Mikey announces proudly, stating it like it's an award or title that Casey earned. "Learning a lot!"

"Learning?" Leo asks.

"Future," Mikey explains. "You have an arm -- uhh.... Casey, what is the word?"

"Prosthetic?"

"Yeah, that. Leo gets a cool arm! Like a gift! You lost your old one, so Donnie made you another! Why did you have multiple arms?"

Leo turns and stares at Casey, his eye twitching.

"...It's.... uh.... a long story," Leo manages. "But, um, maybe we can talk about it later."

Casey shrinks a bit, his head goes low and his shoulders slump. Mikey notices the shift in the room, and is about to ask why they're both acting weird when Leo changes the subject.

"So, are you all packed?"

"Oh, uh, n-no, not yet, we kinda got distracted..."

"Well, why don't I help you out real quick?"

Leo pulls the two back into Mikey's room. He has Mikey pick out several more sweatshirts and hoodies to wear while Leo and CJ go to bag up his blankets and pillows.

Mikey listens to them as they whisper; eventually they catch on and sign to each other instead. Mikey watches from his peripherals, trying to not let them realize he's eavesdropping on them. It's tough, they both turn away and he can only catch bits and pieces.

'...why would you tell him...'

'...didn't think... issue... he asked....'

'...he's confused...'

'What do you mean?'

'Memory... doesn't know... aliens...'

'...sorry... didn't know...'

'...don't want to make it more confusing for him...'

'Okay...'

'Besides... talked about this...promised to keep it secret...'

'...just wanted someone to talk to...'

'....why should they know... painful... don't want them to hurt...'

'What about my hurt?'

Casey and Leo turn away from Mikey fully. He can't see the rest of their conversation, but by their body language he can tell it's not going well. CJ gets up and storms away. Leo sighs and droops in the corner of the room. Mikey hops over to him and nuzzles his back.

"Leo okay?"

He turns around and fakes a smile at him.

"All good, mi hermano. Just... trying to figure some stuff out with Casey."

"Is Casey okay?"

Leo heaves a sigh.

"...Let's just get you packed up. Do you wanna bring your chucks?"

Leo holds out the sticks he tried to give Mikey a few days ago. Mikey still doesn't understand what they are.

"No," he says with a shrug. "I don't. Unless you want them..."

"No, I don't -- Mikey, they're your weapons!" Leo clarifies. "You use them for your ninpo, remember?"

"What's a ninpo?" Mikey asks as he starts digging through his shirts again.

Leo is silent for a while. Mikey gets nervous that he said something wrong and turns back to look at him. Leo's eyes are wide and his face is shaken. But he blinks and resets, his expression changes to a feeble smile.

"Uh, nevermind. I'll tell ya later..."

Once Mikey's supplies are all compiled, the group meets in the garage.

Leo pulls out his katanas and slashes the air, creating a portal.

"All right everyone, let's go!"

Leo directs the group as though he were directing traffic, each person jumping through with their stuff one at a time. Mikey and Leo are the last two left in the room.

"You ready?"

Mikey nods, slowly pushing himself up and standing with a wobble. Leo takes his hand, and the two step through the portal.

It disorients Mikey more than he expected, and he stumbles after the second step, almost falling over before Leo wraps his arms around him and steadies him again.

"Well well, it's nice to see you finally arrive," Draxum grumbles as he greets Donnie. "Although, I didn't expect you to bring so many guests... I thought you said it was just your family?"

"Yeah, that's me, Mikey, Raph, Leo, Splinter, April, and Casey Jr.," he explains without looking up from his phone. "Oh, and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0."

Mikey notices CJ perk up with a smile when his name is mentioned in the list of family members.

But Draxum sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I see. I didn't account for that... I'm afraid I don't have enough room for everyone."

"I won't be staying overnight," April offers.

"Still, the addition of the rat and the time traveler was unexpected."

"Well, it's a good thing you have a certified genius to help with construction, then," Donnie says, cracking his knuckles. "S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., prepare the schematics!"

"On it, dude," the robot says with a laugh as he starts to scan the building.

"You don't honestly think that we can add two extra rooms from scratch by this evening?" Draxum challenges.

"You doubt my skills?"

"In addition to the rest of the renovations? Finishing by tomorrow night would be a miracle," he growls. "We'll have to find somewhere else to house you all until it's finished..."

"Like where?" Raph asks. "Not the Hotel Nexus..."

"Big Mama is not the only hotel proprietor in the Hidden City," Draxum huffs. "I know of a nice resort that could take us in..."

"Wait, resort? Not the one that only takes in people with hair, right?" Leo fidgets, his hands reaching to cover his bald head.

"I do have a membership there," Draxum says. "But there is another one --"

"Not the one across the street!" Leo begs, almost falling to his knees.

"No, of course not. There's more than one, don't worry. I'll call for a coach, and you can stay there until my home is repaired."

Draxum summons a flying cart with a pegasus, and the group fill the trunk with their belongings and climb in. The winged horse brays and jumps into the air, carrying the cart away.

"Not exactly a simurgh ride, but still pretty cool," Leo smirks. "Whaddya think, Mikey?"

Mikey leans over the side of the cart, the wind in his face and the underworld beneath him. It's so pretty, incredibly bright and colorful! For so long, all he knew was white coats and grey tiles and pitch black machines...

Mikey hoots as the cart flies. He loves this! Raph reaches over to keep him safely in the wagon when he thinks Mikey might fall out.

Mikey takes in the many smells... there's an entire world down here! And another world above! Mikey starts bouncing with excitement and anticipation...

The cart lands in front of a large Yokai resort, multicolored palm trees dotting the lawn and enormous shells decorating the entrance.

The group step out, oohing and awing at the underground beaches and beautiful views from behind the building.

"How do they have a sky and ocean?" Raph asks, pointing.

"It's a form of portal magic," Draxum states.. "There are many parts of the world still uninhabited by man, hundreds of undiscovered islands in the ocean. The Yokai use special spells to create bridges between those islands and their own cities, folds in space and reality, creating the illusion that the sandy shores are here, when in fact we are --"

"Less talking, more vacay!" Splinter shouts, running into the hotel. "Papa needs a suntan and a fruity drink with a tiny umbrella!!"

April cackles as Draxum rolls his eyes.

"And to think I chose him as the mightiest warrior for my experiments..."

Mikey turns to look at Draxum when he hears the word 'experiments'. But no one else seems to mind. Leo notices Mikey's nervous twitch and pats him on the back.

"It's okay," Leo whispers. "He means something else. He is a good guy. I promise you're safe."

Safe. Safe. Safe.

Mikey trusts Leo.

The duo follow after the rest into the lobby as Splinter rings the front bell several times over.

"Be right there!" a surprisingly cheery voice calls out.

A moment later, two small bat-like creatures fly out to greet the guests.

"Hi, and welcome to -- DRAXUM?!"

"BOSS!"

Draxum's eyes widen.

"Huginn? Muninn? You work here now??"

"Yeah!" Huginn cheers. "Can you believe it? We got such a cushy job here! I mean, well... it's okay. The pay stinks, the manager is the owner's son, we have to give rent for our own room, which is actually the supply closet..."

"But at least we have dental!" Muninn chimes in.

"...You're gargoyles. You don't have any teeth," Draxum states flatly.

"Yeah.... we didn't really think this through," Muninn sighs.

"Well, you're looking... um, good," Draxum says quickly. "I wasn't sure what happened to you two after the incident with the Dark Armor."

"We kinda... went off the grid after you disappeared and the arrest warrants went out," Huginn sighs. "It was tough finding work. But you're off the hook now! Congrats!"

"We've never been prouder!" Muninn smiles. "So, what's up with you? Looks like you finally got the turtles to team up with you!"

"It's a long story. But I've, uh..." Draxum swallows. "Been busy. Restoring my old home."

"Wow, really? Still?" Huginn asks. "Well, if, uh... you ever need someone to perch on your shoulders again, or y'know, do menial tasks like bridling ravenous ponies or filing taxes..."

Draxum smiles.

"I'll let you know. In the meantime, do you have any rooms available?"

"For you?" Muninn grins wide. "Private luxury suite!"

He tosses the key to the warring warrior scientist, who catches it with ease.

"We'll take your bags up for ya!" Muninn says, fluttering over to the pile. "You guys can go check out the pool, spa, bingo hall, buffet, and beachside!"

The teens immediately run out the back door to explore the beach as Draxum and his former goyles start to gather up the luggage.

Huginn notices Mikey scurrying past.

"Hey boss, isn't that...?"

"Like I said, it's a long story," Draxum says with a sigh.

The teens rush out and explore the beach. An aurora of rainbows wrap over the edge of the property, creating an archway that leads to a hidden tropical paradise. Mikey can feel the breeze and smell the water from where he is. Casey stares in shock at it all. He starts to tear up.

"You okay, CJ?" April asks.

"...I... huh? Oh, yeah," he says, coming back to reality, sniffing a bit as he wipes his eyes. "I just... I never knew that the world looked like this... it's so beautiful, and intact, and... big..."

April smiles, taking his hand and leading him to the beach.

"Come on, future kid. We're gonna introduce you to the magic of a beachside vacation."

Mikey chirps happily as he runs alongside them. Leo and Raph are already at the water's edge, splashing in the tide. Donnie watches from just beyond their reach, smiling softly, letting his feet sink in the sand as he basks in the sun.

It's so warm here, the sun is so bright and the water is so sparkling...

Mikey presses a hand into the wet sand. It squishes under his pressure. Casey mimics him, pressing his hand into the soft sand. He laughs. Mikey laughs with him, digging his claws deeper and deeper. His knuckles feel something hard with ridges. He pulls out a shell. Casey awes at it, staring in wonder. Mikey hands it over for him to examine.

Open. Space. Run. Free. Zoom.

Mikey starts bolting, running along the water's edge and kicking up sand as he races against the wind. He shrieks with laughter. He circles around and races back, zooming back and forth over and over again. He can hear Casey and April laughing at his speed, enjoying the fact that he's enjoying himself.

Mikey turns to the water. Leo and Raph are up to their knees in the waves. Leo beckons him out to join them.

Mikey, crouches, getting ready to pounce...

His animal intuitions take over. Rather than jump in the water... he runs. His legs speed under him, his back straightens and he runs on two feet instead of all fours. He bolts across the water, going past Leo and Raph in an instant and speeding away. He runs atop the water, the webbing in between his toes creating air pockets beneath that keep him afloat as he runs.

Mikey runs on water, never having felt more free in his life.

He can hear the others shouting for him and cheering him on. Mikey laughs loudly as he runs in an arc and returns quickly, coming towards Leo and Raph, who realize too late what Mikey's plans are.

Mikey leaps and jumps them. The two shout in fear as he pounces, knocking them into the water.

Donnie howls with laughter. April woops and Casey cheers. Leo and Raph are sputtering under Mikey but laughing all the same. Mikey cackles with joy as Raph splashes Mikey in retaliation and Leo flips him over, crashing him into an oncoming wave. Mikey swims around them like a snake before jumping out and pouncing on Raph again.

Splinter watches from the shore with a smile as his family lets themselves be kids for the first time in a very, very long time.

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something-tofightfor · 8 months ago

Text

Liminality: Part 9

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,976

Rating: This one's actually very tame, but I'm gonna go with M for overall content + language.

Summary: You and Frankie have decided some things about the next full moon, but there are plenty more to consider. Conversations with some of the people that he's closest to prove to you that Frankie's friends do, in fact have his - and your - best interests in mind.

A surprise revelation puts a few more things into perspective ... and widens your new circle of friends a little more.

Author’s note:

The action picks up the next chapter - I promise. This one is a lot more focused on relationship building and setting groundwork. There are also a couple clues in here (as well as some nods to the movie) ... let's see if you can catch them, Thank you for reading! Please come say hello in my inbox or through DMs if you want!

This one goes out specifically to @anniet852 for making the request that I post it tonight. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for reaching out.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

There was something warm and soft pressed against the space just in front of your ear, and after you blinked a few times, you realized what it was. It’s Frankie, and he’s kissing me.

Humming quietly, you rolled back and toward him, but he stopped you with one hand on your side, sighing out your name. “No time. I’m gonna be late.” What? “Didn’t wanna get up so I stayed with you as long as I could.” Oh. “Stay in bed.”

“But -” You voice was hoarse and thick with sleep, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“No, it’s early.” He kissed you again, that time a little closer to your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. Make yourself at home. Spare key’s in the kitchen. Take it with you and give it back next time I see you.” His tone was low and soothing - a quiet rumble in your ear. Even though you wanted to get up, you felt yourself drifting again, sinking deeper into the nest of blankets that smelled like him as he pulled the top one up and over your shoulders. “I’ll call you tonight.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding, and Frankie squeezed your shoulder but didn’t say anything else. A few minutes later, you thought you heard the front door close, but you were already almost back asleep.

The next time you woke up, the room was filled with light, and the clock on the bedside table said 10:27. I just slept for almost ten hours. Pushing yourself upright, you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, yawning.

It was strange to be in Frankie’s house alone, but you felt comfortable, and there was a large part of you that was excited to have the opportunity to look around before you left. You weren’t going to snoop, but you did want to get a better idea of Frankie as a man without him only a few feet or a room away.

He’d told you to make yourself at home, and so you did, setting the coffee pot to brew while you looked around the kitchen and into the living room.

There were pictures hanging on the fridge - Frankie and Carmen in his back yard, one of him and a woman you assumed was Becca with a swaddled baby held between them, a group shot of Frankie and the guys. He looked happy in all of them, but you noticed a hollowness in his expression in the one with the baby, dark circles under his eyes and his face much thinner than it currently was.

Trailing a finger over it, you chewed on your lower lip, feeling your stomach twist. He’d told you about using, but seeing proof of how much he’d struggled just after his daughter was born was a shock. But he’s doing better now, and he’s still in Carmen’s life, and … things are good.

His past would be something that the two of you needed to discuss in more depth, just so you were on the same page - especially if you stayed in Florida. There was no way around it - the drugs and mission to South America coupled with his adjustment to post-military life and becoming a werewolf were a lot for anyone to deal with.

But since you knew he’d had talked to so few people, for Frankie, it was likely much more difficult to open up than normal. And I want to help him, if he’ll let me.

After making your coffee, you wandered through the rest of the house, glancing at the books on his shelves. You lingered on a few more photos of him and his family throughout the years and the decor that he’d chosen to fill the space.

It all made you smile, because the inside of his house was a reflection of Frankie as you knew him. Aside from the hidden millions and the wolf status, he hadn’t lied when he’d said that what you saw was what you got, and that impressed you. Because that isn’t always the case with people.

Curling up on the couch with your mug, you looked around the bright, sunny room and grinned, taking a deep breath. It was a house that you could get used to being in, and the fact that Frankie trusted you to be there alone spoke volumes.

But the longer you sat, the more your thoughts drifted. And after a little while, they drifted back to the previous night … and what you’d almost said. Is it possible? Could I really… You sipped your coffee and eyed the darkened screen of the TV, thinking. He’d heard you, obviously, and had likely pieced things together, even though you’d managed to keep from finishing your sentence. “But it was right there.” Taking another drink, you closed your eyes. “And I was definitely thinking it.”

Speaking out loud to the empty house comforted you, as did admitting that what you’d almost said was the truth.

Nothing about meeting and being with Frankie made any sense. The timeline was expedited. The circumstances were unconventional, to say the least. He was not the type of person you’d ever gravitated toward before, even without the wolf component. But none of that mattered, because from the moment you’d met him, you were drawn to Frankie on every level, and the pull had only intensified as the days passed.

You wondered exactly how he felt, and what he’d tell you if you asked.

You were curious to know if he returned your affection to a similar level, or if you were moving too quickly and leaving him behind. It was more than sex for both of you, and he’d been the one to suggest the idea of giving a relationship a shot. But that doesn’t mean he loves me. That doesn’t mean it’s serious for him yet… does it?

Pushing yourself upright, you went back into the kitchen and cleaned up after yourself, loading the dishes into the dishwasher and then wiping the countertop down. Pausing in front of one of the windows, you stared out and into the back yard, thinking. Your questions needed answers, even if only to give you a better idea where you and Frankie stood … and of what to expect moving forward.

But more than that, the part of you that craved connection wanted reassurance that even though you’d fallen hard and fast, you weren’t alone in your feelings. You didn’t think you were, especially with the way he’d looked at you and spoken to you, sticking up for you in front of his friends and with Ashley. “I need to fucking go.” Smacking your hand on the counter, you groaned. “I need to be doing something and not just thinking about this.”

Turning around, your eyes landed on the wall just behind the sink, and you laughed at the sight of it. It was a chalkboard - some of the surface covered in Frankie’s handwriting, other parts featuring notes and drawings from the guys that you snorted as you read through. You had no idea how you’d missed it previously, but with another grin, you reached for a piece of colored chalk and added a message to one of the open spaces.

LOADED THE DISHWASHER. LEFT @ NOON. CALL ME IF YOU WANT TO.

Pausing, you chewed on the inside of your cheek and then added the final touch - a heart and your name before spinning away and hurrying back into the bedroom to collect your stuff.

He’d see it right away, and you knew it.

And even though it was easily erased, the few words added to the wall were just another example of your insertion into his life … and seeing them next to the ones from his friends made you question things further. And I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s not that big a deal… fuck.

You got ready to leave in only a few minutes, and when you stepped back into the kitchen to grab the keys, you lingered there, turning in a slow circle.

Frankie leaving you alone in his home was a big step - no matter how you looked at it. But you still couldn’t get ahead of yourself or expect too much from him. And I won’t. Especially before we find this other wolf.

The door closed and locked behind you, you headed for your car … but you spent the entire drive home in deep, silent thought.

—

Your phone rang almost three hours later, and the number on the screen was one that you didn’t recognize. You contemplated not answering but decided that you needed to, cautiously lifting the device to your ear as you said hello. I don’t know anyone here, and that’s a Florida area code, and …

“Hey, it’s Pope.” Shoulders slumping in relief, you greeted him. “What are your plans this afternoon?”

“I don’t have any.” Looking around your apartment, you wrinkled your nose. “I’m working right now, but -”

“Do you want to come over?” His invitation caught you off guard, and before you could reply, he continued. “‘Fish told me where you’re staying, and you’re not too far from Yova and me. You should meet her, and we need to talk.”

“We do?” He laughed, and you realized how unsure you must have sounded, but Pope replied right away, still laughing.

“We do. But I swear to god, it’s not the way it sounds.” You agreed, Pope letting you know that he’d be home whenever you wanted to head over. While you got ready, your mind ran wild with thoughts about what Pope wanted to talk to you about - and excitement about meeting Yovanna, who you’d heard a lot about in the weeks since you’d met Frankie and his friends.

The drive was short, and it turned out that Pope’s house was slightly larger than Frankie’s. But as you pulled into the driveway, you remembered that Tom had told you it wasn’t his, and belonged to his parents. It’s nice, though.

You parked and headed for the front door, raising your hand to knock.

Before your knuckles made contact, the door opened and you were met with the smiling face of one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen. “You must be Yovanna.” She nodded, her eyes widening. “I’m here to see Pope. I’m -”

“You’re Francisco’s.” Her smile grew. “I have heard a lot about you.” She opened the door all the way, inviting you in. “Santiago is outside. I’ll show you where.” She led you through the house, and as you moved, you thought about her words - and how she’d flat out called you Frankie’s, like it was common knowledge. Is it? “Before you go outside, I…” She stopped in the kitchen and turned to face you, blinking rapidly. “What he is, it is … not his fault. Francisco is a good man.”

“Wait, you…” She knows? Sucking in a breath, you shook your head. “Yovanna, I -”

“They don’t know that I know, but I do.” She reached for your hand. “I’ve seen it before. He’s seguro. Safe, not dangerous. The other one…” She shivered. “Be careful.” Yovanna pointed toward the door with one hand. “Listen to him. To both of them. I -” Your heart was pounding, but instead of interrupting her, you reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder, waiting until she trailed off to speak.

“I know Frankie’s not dangerous.” She looked relieved, giving you a single nod. “I know it’s not his fault.” Her smile grew again, both of her eyes closing. “I’m here to help him get answers.” That shocked her, but before you could say anything else, she was hugging you, her hold tight.

“He needs them. Deserves them.” Gesturing when she released you, she chuckled. “I’m going to start making dinner. I’ll let you two talk.” Yovanna turned away from you and then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “If you know about … Francisco, do you know about …”

“The money?” You nodded. “He told me everything.” Yovanna covered her face with both hands, exhaling loudly. And when she lowered them she looked relieved, her eyes shining with tears. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“He needs someone like you.” She wet her lips. “He needed someone like you a long time ago.” Without another word, she left the room, leaving you stunned and standing just inside the door that led to the back yard.

You were overwhelmed, but didn’t want to keep Pope waiting, and so you headed outside and took a seat next to him on an empty deck chair. “You made it.” He looked over, smiling at you. “Good.”

“I did.” Getting comfortable, you leaned back and looked out over the yard. “This is your parents’ place, right?”

“Yep. They’re on vacation right now. I paid for ‘em to go back home for a couple months, and my ma says she doesn’t ever want to come back here.” You laughed, watching as Pope rubbed at the back of his neck. “Both my parents were born here, in Florida, but I’ve got a ton of relatives that don’t live in the US, and since I can afford to send my parents to see them… why not?” He shrugged. “They’re happy, and Yova and I get to be here together.”

“Frankie told me about Australia.” He nodded. “And Tom told me you guys are going back and forth between here and there.” Pope nodded, his eyes on you. “And I get it, Pope. She’s beautiful. And she seems …” Trailing off, you thought for a few seconds. “She seems like she can handle your shit.”

He snorted, reaching up with one hand to rub at his beard - but he didn’t disagree. “She was the best thing that came outta being down there.The money’s great, but Yova? Fuck. I waited my whole goddamn life for her, and almost lost her for good because I didn’t do anything about it when I should have.”

“Well you didn’t lose her.” Turning your head to look at him, you shrugged. “She’s here. You’re here. You’re together now, and that’s what matters.” He took a long breath and held it, and when Pope exhaled, he swore. What? What did I say?

“D’you know what I see when he looks at you?” He met your gaze, his expression unwavering. “Me, looking at her.” It hit you hard - because you knew that Pope wasn’t the type of man to lie about something so important. But he … he just … “I’ve known Frankie for a long fuckin’ time. And he hasn’t ever been like this with someone. Not even Becca, and there was a couple years when I thought they’d end up together forever.”

“Pope, it’s only been weeks. We’re still -”

“He told you everything.” Santiago shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. “He didn’t need to, but he did. He just about attacked Tom last night for giving you shit, and he’s started losing control around you to the fucking point that he can’t keep the wolf entirely at bay. Doesn’t matter if it’s been weeks or months, that shit is the truth, and -”

“I pulled a gun on him.” You looked down at your hands, frowning. “The morning he told me? I don’t know how I got past him and to my room fast enough to grab it, but -”

“And that’s another thing.” He straightened up and then leaned toward you. “The Francisco Morales I know? Never would have let you get to that gun. He never would have given you a chance to aim it. ‘Fish did. He stood there and let you point it at him.” Pope said your name, his smile small but still present. “Keeping you safe is his focus, even if it meant that he might have gotten hurt.”

That information stunned you. It was something that you should have considered, but you hadn’t. He was in the military for a decade. Of course I shouldn’t have been able to get by him. Of course he could have overpowered me. He’s… “You know why I’m here, Pope.” He nodded, waiting. “For a second, I thought -”

“Did you? Did you really?” He closed his eyes, his fingers curling into a loose fist. “Because I might not know you that well, but if you’ve really been hunting wolves for as long as you say you have, if you thought Frankie was the one you were looking for, you wouldn’t have hesitated to pull that trigger. Instead, you let him explain.”

“No, I gave him a chance to explain because I lo-” Your mouth snapped shut for the second time in less than twenty four hours, but unlike Frankie simply staying quiet and letting you recover, Pope’s eyes widened and he scoffed, slapping his palm against the arm of the chair. Shit. Shit.

“I knew it.” His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the same way Frankie’s did. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell him how fucking right I was.”

“You can’t.” Your heart thumped against the back of your ribs, one hand shooting out so that you could grasp Pope’s wrist. “Santiago, it’s not … I can’t. Not until I find the Chaos wolf and deal with it.” You took a deep breath, fingers tightening. “I have to focus. I can’t even think about how much it … how much he means to me.”

Saying it out loud felt good, because even though Frankie knew that you cared, admitting how much you cared to someone that wasn’t directly involved was different. And it’s important, because now I can’t just pretend it isn’t the case. “Hey.” He said your name quietly, pulling his arm free from your grip. But instead of withdrawing it entirely, he took your hand in his and squeezed, urging you to meet his eyes.”I won’t say a goddamn word. Not yet. Not until it comes from you, or it comes from him, because it’s not my place.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Thank you.” It was a relief, but Pope’s words made you wonder just how obvious you were being with your feelings. If he noticed, then Frankie might have, too. And what about the other guys? “No. I didn’t actually think that it was Frankie that was attacking people. And the last thing I was expecting was him to tell me what he is.”

“But when he did …” Pope squeezed your hand one last time and then let go, pulling his arm up and then crossing both of them over his chest. “What did you do?” It wasn’t the question that you’d expected from him - but based on what you knew about Frankie and his friends, it was probably time that you stopped trying to anticipate how they were going to react.

“I gave him a chance to explain. And I … told him the truth about myself.” Looking down, you linked your own fingers together, one thumb rubbing over the other’s knuckle. “And then I asked him to stay because I wanted to make sure he got sleep.”

“You might be,” Pope started speaking, turning his chair toward where you sat before he went on. “You might be the best possible person to know his secret. Because not only do you believe him, you know what he’s going through. You understand wolves and their behavior, and thanks to your cousin, you know that it’s possible to be with one without problems.”

“That’s why I’m worried.” Giving him a tight smile, you blinked back tears. “Pope, what if all of this is because everything is falling into place just right? What if none of this would be happening if he wasn’t a wolf and I wasn’t hunting them? What if he’s just lonely, and I’m a convenient -”

“‘Fish might not have had anything consistent in his life since he was bitten, but I wouldn’t say he’s been lonely.” He arched a brow. “He’s had no problem keeping all this shit separate from what he does in the bedroom before.” That gave you pause, and even though it stung to think about Frankie with other women, Pope’s words rang true. “But that’s one of the reasons I asked you to come over.”

You’d wondered when that topic would come up. Pope’s invitation had been friendly, but there was business to discuss, and it seemed you’d finally worked around to that topic. “What reason?”

“He wants you to see him on the night of a full moon.” You nodded, unsurprised that Pope knew. “And you know that one of us is always with him on those nights, just to keep an eye on things … and on him,”

“Yes. He told me. And he showed me the tracker.” Pope dragged his fingers through this hair, narrowing his eyes, though he didn’t look away from you. “And yeah. I do want to go with him next time. What’s the problem with that?”

“We made a promise to him. All of us. And as much as we care about him, we’d honor it.” Your blood ran cold at he implication of his words. They’d promised that if Frankie ever hurt anyone - or presented the threat of real danger - they’d take care of it. And I don’t know that I could. I don’t know that I’d be able to. “Could you shoot him? Could you look him in the eye - man or wolf - and pull that trigger if you needed to? If he asked you to?”

“I …” Your heartbeat quickened again, mouth hanging slightly open. “Pope, I don’t…” Even as you floundered, you knew the answer. “No. No, I don’t think I could. Not … now. Maybe if I saw him hurting someone, but not after the fact.” He didn’t look surprised, but Pope’s expression gave nothing else away, either. “Could you?”

“I’d have to.” He shook his head, licking his lips. “I wouldn’t want to, but ‘Fish couldn’t live with himself knowing that he hurt someone. And we’d never let him do something to himself that might get back to Carmen later. We promised.” That was understandable; protecting his daughter would always be the most important thing for them. And I get it. I get it, but what is the point of this? “The reason I’m asking you any of this is because if you want to go with him, and he wants you to go with him alone, you’re going to have to be able to make this promise, too.”

“And what if I can’t?” Your stomach was churning, but you didn’t want Pope to know. “Does that mean I can never -”

“It means that you might have to have one of us there with you, and he’s not going to like that.” Pope shrugged, letting out a deep sigh. “I wanted to talk to you about this first, because I figured you’d be a little more reasonable. ‘Fish is … stubborn. And it’s not like we’d be right there next to you, but this while thing has only worked because we have a system, and that can’t change.”

He was right, and you knew it.

Having a second person with you and Frankie on the night of a full moon, at least for the first few times, was the right decision. It meant someone being there if things went sideways. It meant that you’d have backup. It meant that another one of them would see that you could be trusted with their friend’s secret, and that you could handle yourself around Frankie’s wolf. But I don’t like it, because the first time he shows someone, it should be private.

“Who? You went with him last month. Would it be you next month, too?”

“It’s Will’s turn.” Pope’s reply was immediate, his voice even. “And that might be the best thing for everyonr, because he’s not emotional. Me an’ Benny … we are. Tom too. But Ironhead isn’t … reckless. He’d be a good one for you to be out there with.”

Neither of you said anything else, and for a few long moments, you and Pope stared out over the well-kept yard. He wasn’t telling you that you couldn’t go, or that he thought it was a bad idea for you to see Frankie’s change. He wasn’t advising against your presence, or trying to downplay your barely-established place in Frankie’s life. He’s just trying to keep people safe.

“I have to do what’s best for Frankie.” You nodded, blowing out a breath and closing your eyes. “And for everyone else. The last thing I want to do is put anyone at risk, but I’d be lying if I told you that it wasn’t disappointing that we wouldn’t have privacy.”

“You would.” He adjusted his position, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “There’s a blind up in the trees about fifty yards from the RV. You can see everything from up there, but you can’t hear unless someone’s yelling. We used it the first couple times we were there with him, just to have a backup - someone on the ground, someone in the trees.”

“So we’d have guns on us.” Pope flinched - barely, but you caught it nonetheless. Well, fuck. “I can’t speak for him, but if that’s what you think needs to happen, then yeah.” Reaching out, you took Pope’s hand in yours. “I trust you. I trust your friends, and if that’s what it takes… it’s what we’ll do.”

He looked relieved, almost like he’d expected you to fight him on someone else being there. But why would I? I’ve already admitted that I don’t think I could hurt him. “We’ll talk to ‘Fish. This shouldn’t be on you.” You agreed, giving him a quick smile before you let go of his hand and leaned back in your chair, averting your eyes. “How’s your cousin?”

You hadn’t expected Pope to ask, but you were grateful that he had. “He’s better. The wound got infected, so they’ve been trying to knock that back, but according to his fiancee, he’s going to be fine otherwise. No bite. Nothing lasting physically, except some scars. If she hadn’t been there, or been what she is, it would be a different story.”

“You’re not worried about something like that happening to you?” Glancing over, he frowned at you. “Being on your own? What would you have done if you’d found a wolf?

“I would have dealt with it.” You rubbed the side of your neck, thinking. “I’m always armed while hunting. I know where to aim on a wolf to incapacitate it until morning. That I can do. But shooting someone I know? That I care about?” That’s different.

“But you’re not afraid?” He bit down on his lower lip, sighing. “Seeing Frankie for the first time fucking terrified me. I don’t think you understand how big he is. If I’d been alone, I would have lost my shit.”

“I’m always afraid, Pope. But I can’t let that stop me. It’s what’s expected because of -”

“Your family. I know.” You caught the roll of his eyes, along with his exasperated chuckle. “He told me all about it. I don’t mean to be an asshole, but it’s kinda bullshit that they’ve put this all on you.”

“I don’t disagree, but I don’t want to be the one to stop. Why do I get to make that decision?”

“Because you found a reason to stop?” Pope stood, turning so that he could look at where you sat. “Because you decided you wanted to have a life that you chose instead of just doing what was expected of you?” And there’s a fourth. Covering your face with both hands, you rubbed at your eyes.

Ashley and Alec telling you to choose yourself was one thing; they were actively involved in your life, and knew the burden you’d been entrusted with - and what living with it meant. Frankie, after spending years in the military and then getting saddled with an uncontrollable and unfair outcome advising you to put yourself first also made sense, especially since he was doing it because he cared about you.

But Pope, someone that didn’t know you well and only knew the basics of your situation doing the same - simply because he wanted you and his friend to have a legitimate shot at whatever happiness looked like for the two of you? That was a shock. Because he understands responsibility. He understands honor.

“Pope, I …” Raising your head, you eyed him where he stood, one hand on his hip. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but -”

“No one can choose this for you, and I get that.” He wet his lips, lowering himself so that he was squatting down in front of you, at eye level. “But maybe you shouldn’t be afraid to choose it for yourself, y’know?”

Before either of you could say anything else, the back door opened and Yovanna called out. Pope’s eyes moved from your face to look over your shoulder. Nice save, Yova. “Are you staying to eat? It’s going to be ready soon.”

“Stay.” Pope murmured the word, nodding once. “No more of this. Just let her grill you about ‘Fish.” That got a smile out of you and you agreed, turning your head toward where the woman stood. That sounds like a good time.

“Yes. I’d like that a lot. Can I help?” She waved you off and went back inside, and then Pope stood too, the tension between you lessening almost entirely. “You’re not the first person to suggest that to me this week. And you probably won’t be the last, either.” He grinned, the expression taking years off of his face. “He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I know. I don’t ever let him forget it, either.” Pope winked and then stood back up, holding his hand out. “Come on. I’ll show you where everything is. She won’t let us help in the kitchen but we can get shit set up out here on the table.”

The two of you worked quickly, only needing a few minutes to get everything into place. Pope excused himself to go inside and check on the other woman, which you knew was only an excuse to disappear and kiss her senseless next to the sink, but you didn’t mind. You needed the break to collect your thoughts, and wanted a chance to check your phone.

There was a missed call from Frankie from only a few minutes earlier, along with a picture message from Alec - of him and Ashley, both of them sitting outside in the hospital’s courtyard. Sending back a quick message to him first - looking good, glad you’re getting some fresh air! - you dialed Frankie’s number, raising the device to your ear.

He answered on the second ring, and at the sound of his voice, you realized he was in the truck, playing your call through the speakers. “Sorry I missed you, what’s -”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be able to talk until later.” He sighed, only pausing for a second before he continued. “Carmen’s sick, and she’s asking for me, so I’m on my way to Lakeland. I’m gonna spend the night and go straight to work tomorrow.”

“Is she ok?” You held the phone tighter, trying to figure out just how much panic was in his voice. “What happened?”

“She’s going to be fine. Just has a fever. Probably picked it up at daycare. Becca said I didn’t need to come, that I could just call, but …”

“Of course you’d go.” Turning in a slow circle, you peeked in through the kitchen window, watching as Pope and Yovanna laughed together, the man standing behind her with his arms around her waist as she finished the meal. They’re so happy. “I hope seeing you makes things better for her.”

“What time did you leave?” His tone softened, and you could picture Frankie’s smile, the corners of his mouth lifted as he watched the road ahead. “You sleep in?”

“Noon. And I did. All that room? I stretched out.” He laughed then, the sound coming through the speaker clearly.

“It was hard to leave this morning. Wanted to stay in bed with you.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to decide how to answer, and then opted for the truth - something that a week prior, you never would have admitted out loud.

“I missed you after you left. But…” Looking away from Pope and Yovanna, you inhaled. “I liked waking up in your bed, Frankie.”

“You could do it more.” He cleared his throat. “Whenever you wanted to, and -”

“Dinner’s ready!” Pope’s voice was loud, and interrupted Frankie. “Come and get your plate.”

“Where are you?” He was confused, and you held back your laugh. “Is that Pope?”

“It is. He invited me over to meet Yovanna and so that we could talk, and now I’m having dinner with them.” You wondered what was going through Frankie’s mind, or if he was angry that you were spending time with his friends without him - if he felt like you were going behind his back. ‘I didn’t think to -”

“What are you having? I’m fucking jealous. I haven’t had her cooking in a couple months.” Pope watched you expectantly, gesturing at the doorway. You made your way toward it, grinning.

“No idea. But it smells amazing.”

“She’ll bring you back a plate, ‘Fish.” Pope spoke loudly, leaning in when you got close. “We know how to share.” Frankie laughed at his words and so did you. Pope gave you a nod before leaning back inside and closing the door, giving you a few seconds to say goodbye.

“I’m getting a hotel tonight. Can I call you later?”

“Of course. I’ll be home after dinner.” Resting your hand on the door frame, you nodded. “I hope Carmen’s ok, and that a hug from her dad’s all she needs to feel better.”

“I do too.” He sighed, your name quiet through the phone. “Go eat. And don’t believe a word Pope says about me. They’re all lies and he’s just trying to impress his girl.”

You were both laughing when you hung up. But when you entered the kitchen and took the plate Yovanna held out to you, all you could focus on was the fact that for the second time in as many days, you didn’t feel like an outsider.

Not only had you been accepted by Frankie, but his friends had taken an interest in you, too … even when he wasn’t around.

—

Over the course of the next few weeks, you continued your research during the day while Frankie worked.

The weather held, even as September stretched on. And though it wasn’t your favorite place that you’d ever been, you started to see the appeal of Florida.

Once the beaches cleared out, they became a good place to go and read through your notes. The threat of hurricanes forming in the Gulf didn’t seem to deter many residents from planning and participating in outdoor activities, but there was a definite drop in crowd density on the sand as the days passed and people returned to work and school.

Frankie’s flight load dropped, too, though he warned you that the closer it got to the winter holidays, the busier he’d get again. You didn’t know if you’d still be in Florida for those holidays, but a large part of you hoped that you would - and you knew that Frankie felt the same.

The two of you spent most nights together, going over your notes and coming up with theories. Frankie was helpful, the man’s eyes on your previous work helping you to pinpoint a few things that you hadn’t missed, but also hadn’t assumed might be important.

It gave you hope that between you, you’d be able to pinpoint where the Chaos wolf would strike - and after seeing where he went the night you were with Frankie, you figured you’d have an even better idea. And see if our theory is correct.

Frankie believed that once the wolf ran out of larger park locations, it would begin the cycle all over again. You thought that he was probably right, but if that was the case, then the next location had a 50% chance of being the park that the RV was in… and that worried you. Because it’s where we’ll be … and Frankie will want to fight.

Alec and Ashley left Florida just under two weeks out from the attack, and though you’d gotten to say goodbye, it was bittersweet. He’d left all of his notes with you, along with a few weapons and tools, which was confirmation that he was done - and you were in fact alone in the hunt.

But more than that, Alec’s parting words had struck a nerve, the man looking you in the eye and making you promise that you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life on an impossible revenge mission, especially when you had something good right in front of you. You agreed, the words tasting like poison as you spoke them, and even though a large part of you meant it, there was still another part that couldn’t fathom abandoning your mission, even for someone - and something - like Frankie.

Frankie and Ashley spoke for a few minutes, too, and you heard her reiterate her invitation to Texas, Frankie’s enthusiasm in accepting making you grin. There was no repeat of the first meeting; they greeted each other and then spoke like longtime friends. You were thankful for it, the woman hugging him tightly and then pulling you off to the side to give him a minute with Alec.

That conversation was slightly less friendly - if their facial expressions were anything to go by. But like with his confrontation with Tom, you didn’t pry Frankie for the contents of it. If he wanted to tell me, he would. He didn’t, though, instead telling you not to worry about anything, and to focus on what the two of you needed to: the coming full moon.

Days continued to pass, and as they did, you and Frankie grew closer.

There were no more almost slips, despite your growing emotional connection. You slowly stopped worrying about it being too much, too fast, and just let things happen - because he did the same, and it felt good.

You saw his friends occasionally, stopping into the bar or going to dinner with Pope or Will and their significant others. You texted back and forth with Benny, and even met Tom’s daughter and wife one night, Frankie introducing you in the lobby of a movie theater. Tessa and Molly were nice, and you were stunned at the difference in Tom when he was with them.

In the span of two months, you’d inserted yourself into Frankie’s life almost seamlessly. It was comforting, but at the same time, it scared you.

It scared you because of how well you fit. It worried you because you had the feeling that it couldn’t - and wouldn’t - last. You’d had a few disagreements, but nothing serious, and part of you wondered if it was because he was afraid of angering you and forcing your hand in exposing him. You wouldn’t do that - and Frankie knew it, but it still ate away at you that there was no certain way for you to know exactly why he was the way he was with you.

One of the disagreements you did have was about Will coming with the two of you during the next full moon. Thankfully, you didn’t have much to do when it came to justifying that decision. Will did it for you while the three of you had a beer together on Frankie’s covered porch, the sounds of early autumn echoing around you in the darkness.

“So about next week, ‘Fish.” Will took a pull from the bottle, looking over at where the two of you were sitting together on the couch. You had your feet on Frankie’s lap, the man’s thumb rubbing lazily over the inside of your ankle. Here we go. “I’m the one going with you, and -”

“Won’t need you this month, Ironhead.” His fingers tightened and then loosened, Frankie’s voice even. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.” Looking over at Will, you took a deep breath. “I want her t-”

“Frankie.” You sat all the way up, swinging your feet down so that you could move closer to him. “Give him a chance to finish.”

“So you’ve already talked about this?” He dragged his fingers through his hair, letting out a harsh laugh. “Made plans behind my back?”

“No.” Will leaned in, head shaking back and forth. “Not behind your back. And of course you’d have the final decision, but it’s something … that needs to be discussed.”

You reached over and settled your hand on Frankie’s leg, though you stayed quiet. “What?” He snapped the single word out, looking at his friend with narrowed eyes. “What needs to be discussed?”

“You made us make you a promise. And the only way we can keep that promise is if one of us is there, ‘Fish.” Will clasped his hands together, raising and lowering his shoulders in a shrug. “Any one of us is going to be able to do what we need to do if we need to do it, but she … we don’t know if she will.”

“”It’s been almost three years. I’ve never ever given anyone the idea that I might -”

“Frankie, I wasn’t even able to follow through when I was on high alert in my apartment, and you were human. What happens if something happens, and you’re a wolf?” Slipping your fingers between his, you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know what would be worse, not being able to pull that trigger when I need to, or forcing one of your friends to do it after you did something you regret.”

“So both of you think I’m not going to be able to control myself.” He shifted next to you, but didn’t try to pull his hand free. That’s something. “Both of you are afraid that I’m going to all of a sudden lose my shit, and -”

“No.” Will leaned in, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead. “But another thing to worry about is that this other wolf might show up. And we’re all used to how you act on all fours, ‘Fish, but she isn’t. If she hesitates and it’s not you?” Will’s gaze flicked over to you and lingered. “That’s not something you’d come back from.”

You hadn’t even thought of that - if you were in the middle of the forest and the other wolf made an appearance, you thought you’d be able to do what was necessary. But if it’s dark and all I see is a wolf, of course I’m going to hesitate until I know it’s not him. “Shit.” You tightened your grip on Frankie’s hand and then let go, covering your face with both of them. “Frankie, he’s right about that. Pope brought up one of them coming with us because it made sense, but I didn’t even think about the other wolf being there and my hesitation waiting to see if it’s you.”

He didn’t speak right away, but when you peeked over at Frankie, you saw that some of the anger had bled from his body. Instead he looked worried, lips pressed together and a deep furrow between his brows. “So what’s… what’s the long term plan, Ironhead? It’s always going to be one of you and her there? It can’t ever just be me and my -”

That time, it was Frankie that stopped himself, mouth snapping shut and his shoulders going rigid. Your what?

“No. Not always. She’d just need to get used to you and the routine before it could be her only.” Will licked his lips, giving you a quick smile. “I think that’s fair. We started out two of us at a time, right?”

“Yeah.” Frankie lowered his head. “So what, you’d just be in the RV? I kinda wanted it to just be us when I show her -”

“The blind.” Will leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll be able to see everything and can act if I need to, but you’ll be by yourselves on the ground.”

“It’s up to you, Frankie.” You shifted closer, reaching for his hand again. “But I don’t think it’s a bad idea, especially if I’d be going out there again after this time. Will can show me the ropes, and give me an idea of what to look for and what to expect from you when you’re a wolf.”

“We’re trying to keep everyone safe, ‘Fish. Just like always.” You waited - eyeing Frankie as he collected his thoughts. A quick glance at Will resulted in an almost imperceptible nod from the blonde, his head tipped to one side as he watched you. Lighten the mood. Say something to him.

“I have been thinking about sponsoring one of those sharks with the trackers.” You nudged Frankie with one elbow, letting yourself smile. “But maybe Will can show me how to use your GPS, and then I won’t need to. I’ll have my own -”

“Fuck off.” Frankie yanked his hand free and then wrapped both arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. You laughed but wound your arms around him, closing your eyes in relief. It’s going to be alright. “You’re right though, Ironhead. Last thing I want to do is leave her alone in the middle of the woods at night on a full moon. I know what’s out there.” And so do I. “Would you stay up in the trees all night?”

“Nah. I’d wait til you were gone and then come down. No reason to stay up there all night, unless you think I need to.” Will was speaking out loud, but you could tell from his facial expressions that he and Frankie were also having a silent conversation. In a split second, you realized that it was likely about the other wolf. But I’m not supposed to know that they’re hunting it too. I’m not supposed to know anything about that side of it, and …

It would have made everything much simpler if you’d just admitted who you were and what you were doing in Florida. You would have been able to plan with Frankie and his friends, instead of there being two separate scenarios at all times.

The inability to do so was frustrating, and there was a a part of you that wanted to speak up - to clue Will in, even though it made things more dangerous. Maybe we can talk about it next week.

“Alright.” Frankie sighed, loosening his hold on you. “I guess I don’t really have a choice in this, but I get it.” You opened your mouth to speak - to tell him that he did have a choice - but he beat you to it, leaning in and kissing you before you could. “If you’re gonna be around you need to know.” Mumbling the words, he nodded before pulling away. “And there’s nobody better to be there with you than Will Miller.” .

A quick glance at Will told you that he was relieved there’d only been a little pushback. It could have gone much worse. You were thankful it hadn’t, because the last thing you wanted was Frankie to be angry with you - or annoyed with any of his friends. Because he needs them. Settling back, you leaned your head against his shoulder, only halfway paying attention as the two of them started talking again.

And I need him.

—

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #francisco morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #liminality #liminality masterlist #writing #triple frontier #frankie morales masterlist #francisco morales x female reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #triple frontier au

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black-bentley-niatruc · 5 months ago

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Fic

Title: The Mind-Body Problem [part 1/3]

[A bonus smutty thing happening between chapters 20 and 21 of my main Human AU fic]

Fandom: Good Omens

Category: M/M

Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: filthy smut, check below for any squeaks/no-no's

Additional tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; touch-starved; Crowley has a praise kink; inexperienced Crowley; experienced Aziraphale (kind of); fluff; first time; first time topping; first time things; chest-fucking; Aziraphale is a Pillow Princess; Crowley is a tease; Aziraphale has an oral fixation; angst (thanks, Crowley!); barebacking; butt plugs; anal sex; low-key D/s vibes, but not a 'proper' D/s setting; rough sex; safe, sane and consensual; kinky

Words: 4082

Originally published: 2024-05-27

Summary

“I want you inside of me, if… if that’s something you’d be amenable to,” his angel whispers, glancing into Crowley’s eyes, heart-meltingly bashful.

Unable to help himself, Crowley repeats with amusement, “Amenable.”

Human AU, Crowley and Aziraphale try new things in their relationship

That's it, that's the fic; can be read as a standalone

As soon as Aziraphale walks through the door to Crowley’s flat on Friday evening, he sets a familiar-looking wooden basket on the floor and wraps his arms around Crowley’s neck, kissing him hungrily.

Which is understandable, really.

Ever since they returned to the continent, there were no kisses and only a few fleeting touches, no public displays of affection – and now Crowley feels like he’s starving.

During the last three or so days, he’s brought himself to climax to the thought of Aziraphale so many times he lost count, partially because he couldn’t stop thinking about everything they’ve done together so far and all the things they haven’t, yet, but also hoping that he’d be able to fucking last a little longer today.

His glorious plan might get thwarted soon, he realises as Aziraphale rubs his hardening length against Crowley’s thigh in a slow, deliberate movement with an accompanying little sound that goes straight to Crowley’s cock, making it pulse with intense arousal.

If only they could move in more than three dimensions – then getting to the bedroom, onto the bed, while simultaneously kissing, undressing, and holding onto each other like men drowning would have been so much easier. As it is, they have to give the tiniest part of their attention to the surrounding world in order not to get some unplanned bruises or worse injuries.

“I’m prepared!” Crowley announces, torn between proud and nervous, once they’ve reached their destination, showing Aziraphale a bottle of lube.

After all, his angel might not approve of this kind of level of presumptuousness.

But the pupils in those blue eyes grow so huge at the implications that Aziraphale looks high out of his mind even before Crowley sets the bottle back on the bedside table.

“Mm, good, I’m prepared as well, so to speak,” says Aziraphale, his cheeks reddening slightly as he squirms minutely where he’s seated on Crowley’s bed.

Crowley’s mind wanders to the contents of the wooden basket, but gets distracted when Aziraphale pulls him into another heated kiss and guides them until Crowley’s lying on top of him, one of Aziraphale’s thighs between his legs.

“I want you inside of me, if... if that’s something you’d be amenable to,” his angel whispers, glancing into Crowley’s eyes, heart-meltingly bashful.

Unable to help himself, Crowley repeats with amusement, “Amenable.”

His cock leaks precome at the mere idea, and here’s Aziraphale asking if Crowley’s amenable to something he’s been dreaming of – day and night – for weeks.

Misreading Crowley’s reaction, Aziraphale attempts to backpedal, “But of course there are other―”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley interrupts him, brushing his fingertips against those pretty sensitive lips. “I am more than... amenable.” Aziraphale beams, but of course that’s the moment Crowley’s concerns come back to eat away at his certainty. “Only... I’ve never...”

“I know,” Aziraphale reminds him, quickly. This time he reads Crowley’s hesitation correctly. “You won’t break me, dearest,” he assures, gently kissing Crowley’s fingers.

“I’m afraid I’ll come as soon as I’m inside you,” Crowley confesses his other worry with a nervous, mournful laugh.

Aziraphale licks his lips, his perfect tongue catching on Crowley’s middle finger. “Well, it’s not a once in a lifetime thing. But I’d be more than happy to help you... take the edge off, before we get to this part,” he offers. “We have time, don’t we?”

“Brilliant; you’re a literal genius,” Crowley chokes out once he hears this solution, so obvious that it never occurred to him. They have time. They have privacy, too. “Do I get to hear you tonight?” he asks, before tracing kisses and licks down his angel’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin.

Head spinning, he can feel the shiver that runs down Aziraphale’s body. “Most likely.”

Fuck, yes. Finally.

Propping himself up on his hands, Crowley leans away to have a good look at his angel and decide what he’d like to do to ‘take the edge off’, since, for someone who claims to be selfish, Aziraphale has been nothing if not accommodating, repeatedly insisting that the beginnings of their explorations should be about Crowley, about him figuring out what he enjoys most with Aziraphale’s enthusiastic guidance.

Crowley has seen his share of porn, but there was always something about it – the lack of connection, perhaps – that, while doing the job of making him aroused, would also put him off, so he mostly watched out of curiosity, in a way one might see an educational (if not scientifically accurate) program. What it led to is Crowley having some general ideas about things that can be done, things he might like to try, and things he definitely doesn’t.

Of course, his head is empty now.

He wants... oh, how he wants, yes, but he might be in need of a more directive approach from Aziraphale, who seems content to patiently map the skin over Crowley’s sides with reverent fingertips, tracing the shallow hollows between the ribs so gently it almost tickles.

Opening his mouth to admit he can’t decide what to do, Crowley notices the pink nipples, deliciously hardened, and immediately gets distracted.

Aziraphale whispers something that sounds like ‘Gorgeous’ when Crowley straightens and moves to straddle him, seating himself comfortably on the soft thighs, cheeks burning pleasantly at the praise.

“Alright?” he mutters, rubbing his hands against Aziraphale’s chest, and is rewarded with a soft sigh.

He squeezes the pecs together, thumbs teasing at the nipples, his touches getting more insistent and forceful by the minute, until he moves his gaze to Aziraphale’s face to check if he’s not being too rough, and he’s met with a dark stare, quite certain the heat in those hooded, lust-filled eyes could burn him into ashes if he doesn’t look away―

Mercifully, Aziraphale breaks eye contact, glancing at his own chest and licking his kiss-swollen lips. And then he looks back at Crowley’s face with that burning intensity offering an idea, “Do you want to fuck me like this?”

Crowley isn’t sure what he means, because he gets positively bewitched with the captivating way Aziraphale pronounced the word ‘fuck’ – it’s how temptation sounds, for sure – until he notices the valley he’s created between Aziraphale’s pecs and he realises his cock would fit there nicely, indeed, and he lets out a choked out, “Bloody hell, angel.”

The blush on Aziraphale’s cheeks darkens and he squirms uncomfortably, apologising for being ‘crass’ and assuring Crowley that ‘they don’t have to―’, apparently interpreting Crowley’s astonished silence as him being scandalised by the offer.

In reality, Crowley is the opposite of scandalised. He just doesn’t have the words to express the things his angel does to him – the fire rushing through his blood vessels, the affection squeezing at his chest, the stupidly annoyed ‘Why didn’t I think of this first?’.

“Yes, yes, I want to,” he says quickly, his cock so hard it aches. “But only if it’s something you’d enjoy, too.”

The way Aziraphale beams at him is enough to assure him that his angel expects to enjoy himself very much, indeed. His hands help steady Crowley as he shuffles up Aziraphale’s body, heart hammering in anticipation. He remembers the feeling of the thick thighs squeezing around his cock as he thrusted between them and then came over the pale skin of Aziraphale’s buttocks. He thinks about marking all of his angel this way and feels just a little bad about being so dirty and possessive.

One of Aziraphale’s hands disappears from his hip and he makes an embarrassing, pathetic sound at the loss, but it turns out it was just to reach for the lube.

Yeah, won’t hurt to use it, now that they’re prepared, Crowley agrees internally, unscrewing the lid with almost-not-trembling fingers.

“You really are a spoiled pillow princess, aren’t you?” he mutters, slicking his cock with practised ease, realising that Aziraphale isn’t doing much work here, looking very comfortable, watching the show with hungry eyes and a soft smile.

“Oh, you want to see me in action?” he asks with a grin that holds a challenge in it – as if Crowley is expected to earn himself that – even as he pushes at the sides of his broad, soft chest.

Very pointedly, Crowley forbids his mind to go Places right now. He’ll learn what Aziraphale meant soon enough, he hopes. Just stick to the original plan, he thinks, pressing his cock between Aziraphale’s breasts and watching his angel close his eyes and tilt his head back with a shuddering sigh. Make yourself come like this, Crowley tells himself, thrusting experimentally. Come over his chest and neck and maybe face. Ask him first, though; it’s only polite. He adjusts his position and thrusts again. So fucking good.

As if in agreement, Aziraphale moans quietly. Crowley notices two perfectly manicured nails pinching one of the nipples and he bites his lip.

Oh, it’s a good thing his hands are free, he realises with a devious smirk that escapes his angel’s attention. Reaching behind himself, he wraps his lube-slickened fingers around Aziraphale’s cock, eliciting a soft growl. At the sound, Crowley’s hips change their movement from slow and grinding to something faster, more desperate.

The squeeze and slide of slick flesh around his cock is exquisite, the sounds of undeniable, inexplicable pleasure coming from Aziraphale a music to his ears: shuddering breaths and encouraging whispers urging him to keep going, yes, don’t stop―

It’s a little difficult to coordinate, but with his other hand, Crowley touches Aziraphale’s face, knuckles ghosting over the slightly parted lips. Predictably, his angel gasps and attempts to wrap them around Crowley’s fingers. Groaning loudly, Crowley doesn’t let him, teasing mercilessly. He can feel Aziraphale’s legs moving subtly as he squirms underneath Crowley’s weight.

He can’t take it any more, the pressure low in his belly threatening to burst, his cock throbbing with an impending release.

With a feral grunt, Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s shoulders for leverage, bringing himself off with rapid, powerful thrusts spurred on by sighs of undeniable pleasure and whispered endearments, feeling his heart drown in warmth at the sweet ‘I want you to feel good’ and his soul shatter at the unexpected, broken ‘Yes, please, use me’, until it’s just pure ecstasy, nerve endings exploding, pleasure spreading through him in rhythmic waves.

Panting, dazed, and thoroughly satisfied, Crowley slides off Aziraphale to kiss him desperately and wrap his limbs around the soft body, when his angel obediently turns to his side, returning the kisses and touches alike.

“Fuuuck,” Crowley groans, one of his hands pressing into Aziraphale’s chest, feeling his heartbeat and the mess of lube over the hot skin. Wait. “Sorry, I forgot to ask you...” He bites his lip, fingers swiping over his own come where most of it pooled in the hollow below Aziraphale’s throat.

In response, he receives a playful wink and an absurdly innocent smile as Aziraphale’s fingers join his own to smear the pearly seed over his collarbone. His angel is a walking paradox and Crowley doesn’t mind.

“How much time do you usually need?” Aziraphale asks, before kissing him on the lips again, successfully preventing Crowley from giving the answer.

Not that he’s got one. Usually, he doesn’t wait to see when he’s ready for another round. Usually, he comes all alone, which is a thought that he suddenly cannot bear.

“Nnn,” he mewls pitifully into Aziraphale’s hot mouth.

His angel pulls back, takes one look at him, and wordlessly gathers him impossibly closer, planting kisses over Crowley’s forehead and rubbing his hand up and down his spine, apparently not at all surprised – or worse, concerned – with the tears filling Crowley’s eyes.

They’re tears of relief, of longing, of finally finding the yin to his yang, of the missing pieces slotting into their places in his heart. Crowley dares to hope, fiercely and desperately, that Aziraphale’s understanding comes from the fact that he feels the same.

“You’re so perfect,” Aziraphale whispers into his hair, following that statement with more kisses and something that sounds like ‘mine’ or maybe ‘divine’.

“Angel,” Crowley breathes, grateful to feel the first sparks of renewing arousal, because he’s too vulnerable like this, too fragile, not yet ready to trust the whole of himself even to Aziraphale’s gentle hands.

Especially to Aziraphale’s gentle hands.

And he might do it, if he isn’t careful.

“Tell me what you need,” his angel implores, softly.

“I need to fuck you,” says Crowley, choosing the easiest answer.

And Aziraphale, bless him, plays along, even if dozens of emotions seem to flicker over his face before he sighs with contentment and reaches blindly for the pillow to pull it out from underneath his own head.

“I’m a pillow princess through and through,” he explains, catching Crowley staring curiously at his ministrations as he places the pillow under his hips.

He wriggles, probably testing the angle and twists to get the other pillow, but Crowley’s ahead of him, handing it over with a praise-awaiting grin.

“Ah, thank you,” says Aziraphale with a fond, appreciative smile that’s like a drop of honey to the bitter tea of Crowley’s self-image.

Despite looking like he knows exactly what to do – as opposed to Crowley who’s vaguely aware watching and reading all the world’s porn isn’t going to help him here – there is definitely nervousness about him as he moves to reach the bottle of lube, lying forgotten but stark purple against the black sheets.

“And the... er...”

“I’m clean,” Crowley rushes to explain the lack of condoms. He thought about it, how he’d like to feel no barriers between their bodies, and decided to leave the decision to Aziraphale. “But if you want to, or―”

“No, come here,” his angel says, quickly, making it sound like a demand and a request all at once as he settles on the pillows, one of his hands resting on his own chest, the other clutching nervously at the sheets.

Crowley’s kneeling between his legs before Aziraphale utters the last syllable. There are little electric sparks dancing up the backs of his thighs and higher, up, up his spine. His insides twist in anticipation, tickling, almost painful.

So, now, he thinks, now the fingering, as in, prepping, yes?

He almost scoffs at himself loudly. It’s not like he’s never tried it on himself.

Placing both hands on the insides of Aziraphale’s thighs, he traces his fingers down, spreading those lovely legs even more, bending down to mouth at the hard, reddened cock, feeling Aziraphale shift subtly with a soft moan.

God, but he can’t wait to hear him...

Leaning away for a better view of what he’s doing, Crowley hooks his hands over the creases where thighs meet groin, thumbs digging gently into the squishable cheeks to part them...

“Fuck me,” he whines, staring, half-erected cock jumping into full hardness in a matter of seconds. “Fucking... fuck!”

‘I’m prepared as well, so to speak,’ Aziraphale told him earlier.

Oh, he’s prepared all right.

“I take it you like it?” Aziraphale asks with that adorable pleased smile he wears every time he thinks he’s done something clever. No denying his cleverness, now.

The plug looks fancy – expensive and somehow tasteful despite (or because of?) the little discreet golden wings, folded into an elongated heart shape.

“You go in for the kill, eh?” Crowley manages, unable to take his eyes off the sight, swiping his thumb over one of the wings, pressing against it hard enough to make Aziraphale suck in a sharp breath and squirm again. “You rode a fucking bus over here wearing this?”

“It’s rather obvious I did,” his angel sniffs and then groans softly as Crowley tugs at the plug gently, pulling it out a fraction of an inch and pushing back in. And to think he worried he was being too presumptuous. “A stimulating ride, to be completely honest.”

“Decadent,” Crowley mutters, wishing he were there on the bus with him, thinking of the way his naughty angel has been blushing and squirming on his bed for the whole time, leaving Crowley none the wiser, because he’d never expect Aziraphale to casually come to him wearing a butt plug like it’s something that’s just done. Of course, that’s exactly why Crowley loves him.

“Quite.” Aziraphale’s calf nudges Crowley’s hip impatiently as he reaches between his own legs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to replace it with something more substantial.”

“Bossy.”

Much as Crowley’s fiendish side would love to tease him until he fucking begs for his cock like the shameless slut some people seem to take him for, Crowley’s body opposes waiting any longer. Batting Aziraphale’s hand away, he slowly pulls out the small plug by the wings, watching the tender muscles stretch around the widest part to the accompanying pleased sigh.

Crowley groans softly, seeing the pink little hole slightly open and glistening with slick. As he pours more lube onto his fingers and presses two of them against the warm rim, Aziraphale gives him a pleading look.

“None of that now, please. This whole stretching with three fingers and scissoring as a necessary preparation thing is a myth I’d rather skip.”

Huh.

“So you want me to just...” Crowley attempts to make sure, curling his lube-covered hand around his own cock, suddenly feeling all of his muscles tremble with anticipation.

“Please.”

It sounds so wrecked, as if Aziraphale’s about to cry, and Crowley’s eyes are immediately drawn to his face, checking for signs of pain or regret or uncertainty. What he finds instead leaves him breathless – devotion and raw need and something between a plea and hope. Aziraphale is breathing fast, fists clutching the sheets desperately, burning stare jumping from Crowley’s cock to his eyes and back again. As if it’s ‘a once in a lifetime thing’ after all...

Crowley grasps Aziraphale’s left hip with his free hand, shuffling closer, the head of his cock brushing against the slick opening.

Oh god, he’s never―

Aziraphale gasps, then lets out a shuddering breath. “Do you want―?”

Before he’s asked about wanting a break or to call everything off or whatever unacceptable idea has settled in Aziraphale’s mind, Crowley presses the head of his cock inside his angel, slowly, trying to be gentle but also to savour the feeling.

“Oooh,” Aziraphale sighs, eyes fluttering closed, and wraps his arms around the back of Crowley’s neck. And then, immediately, “More. Give me more.”

What can Crowley do but oblige, really? He sinks in deeper, his overly romantic soul bringing up images of people willingly drowning in the arms of beautiful water creatures.

“Let me hear you,” he says, because he can tell Aziraphale is restraining himself in practically every way except for his focus on Crowley’s own pleasure. And having Aziraphale’s attention in its entirety is not something Crowley seems to be able to handle, not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

“Deeper, don’t stop,” his angel demands in a rich, deep groan that sets all of Crowley’s skin on fire.

As if he could stop.

With his right hand, he grabs at the flesh on the underside of Aziraphale’s thigh, slick fingers slipping over the skin, pushing his leg towards his chest for what he thinks might be a better angle for them both, and finally, finally, he bottoms out, the sharp bones of his hips resting against the cushion of Aziraphale’s bum.

Crowley had no idea the human body is so hot on the inside. He assumed it would feel good, based on his own experimentations, but his imagination pales in comparison to the real thing.

Fuck, they’re―It’s actually happening...

At the gentle tug against the nape of his neck, Crowley obediently bends over Aziraphale until he’s lying on top of him again, propped on his hands, and suddenly they’re kissing.

Crowley sways his hips experimentally and they both moan into each other’s mouths.

Any hotter and it would have been unbearable, he thinks, starting to thrust, just a little, in response to Aziraphale grinding against him insistently.

It is unbearable, the way he suddenly wants to fuck Aziraphale into the bed like a beast in heat, wants to tear him apart in his all-consuming greed, make him scream and cry and lose his grip on Crowley’s leash – while simultaneously, Crowley wants to be gentle and selfless and very much kept on said leash, for Aziraphale to do whatever he desires.

“How do you like it?” he asks softly, against Aziraphale’s lips.

“It’s not about me,” his angel insists, breathing hard.

Crowley snaps his hips, punishing. “How do you like it?” he repeats, but Aziraphale’s groan at the rough push is a welcome clue.

Maybe what they want is complementary.

“Harder,” says Aziraphale, sounding defeated.

Again, Crowley obliges, gasping and groaning at the intense stimulation, at the way Aziraphale allows a few louder moans and grunts to escape his lips, dragging his fingers over the sweat-slick skin of Crowley’s back.

As his moves get even bolder, the thrusts longer, faster, and even more enthusiastic, Crowley feels himself suddenly slip out and he whines in shock at the cold stop to his mounting pleasure.

Before he fully understands what happened, he feels Aziraphale’s hand reaching between them, guiding him back inside without missing a beat, and hears a breathless, “Keep going, dear.”

Crowley learns from his miscalculation and quickly resumes the movements of his hips, adding some experimental twists here and there and trying different tempos. He seals his lips over the skin just below Aziraphale’s clavicle, sucking a bruise there, tasting his own dried come.

Fuck.

“I said, harder, you fiend,” Aziraphale reminds him in a tone that can only be described as commanding, hips rolling slowly up so he can rub himself against their skin where his cock is pressed between their stomachs.

Fuck, yes. I’ll show you a fiend.

Straightening until he’s back on his knees, Crowley digs his hands into Aziraphale’s love handles. They can’t share more kisses like that, he can no longer have those arms wrapped around himself, but he gets to see his angel’s face clearly, so there’s merit to every position, he concludes.

The red-cheeked face he’s admiring says I love you and I need you and I’m happy. And, of course, Fuck me.

It’s everything Crowley ever wanted.

He pounds into Aziraphale almost viciously, drawing from the not-so-secret place in his heart that stores all of his frustration with his angel, all the little ways he’s infuriated by him, all the moments Crowley wished he could be truly angry. The sounds of his hips slapping against Aziraphale’s buttocks – and, god, they probably jiggle with each hit, must be getting red from the smacks – are incredibly satisfying, but there’s yet something more that Crowley wants.

“Louder, angel,” he hisses between his panting breaths.

Aziraphale moans loudly, then growls, one hand curling around his own cock, the other reaching lower.

Crowley rewards him by setting a frantic, brutal pace, and realises, about half a second before it happens, that he’ll get to see what his angel looks like when he comes.

His pretty blue eyes are wide open and sparkling, staring at the ceiling in wonder. The skin of his chest flushes red as he paints it with streaks of his own semen and his back arches off the bed slightly. His mouth is open around a long, deep ‘aaahh’ sound, his face smiling and practically glowing. He looks just like those pictures and actors portraying religious ecstasy and Crowley will never be able to see those the same way he used to.

The hot, wet muscles around Crowley’s cock squeeze around him in pulses, practically milking the orgasm out of him, and he sees blackness.

When he comes to, he’s lying on his side, panting, breathless, thoroughly fucked out and filled with way too many emotions as he looks into Aziraphale’s warm eyes, feels his lips brush gently against his own. In fact, he’s overflowing, and some of it spills out of his treacherous mouth.

“Marry me,” he says, pressing a wet kiss against Aziraphale’s soft lips, and another and another, unable to stop, hand brushing gently over the round, flushed cheek.

#Black_Bentley.txt #good omens fanfiction #good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #fic: Introduction to Philosophy – an Inter-Faculty Course

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badbatchposts · 5 months ago

Text

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 27

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24 l Ch. 25 l Ch. 26

Chapter 27 summary: Crosshair experiences some uncertainty about his relationship with Dara.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: More smut! PIV sex, fingering, dirty talk, discussion of dom/sub dynamics, light spanking, Crosshair's gun fetish, dom drop

Crosshair was staring. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not a word—Dara hadn’t said a word to him in two rotations, had barely even shot a glance his way—and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

For two whole rotations he’d been watching her as she strode across the base, conferring with clones and reaching out to contacts, as efficient and competent as always. While Tech conducted tests on the samples they’d acquired on Xagalus, Dara and a few of the others were hunting down leads on the Empire’s purpose for the drug. As she worked, she was again measured and unemotional, betraying no ongoing signs of the grief and pain that had threatened to overwhelm her. Crosshair didn’t flatter himself to think that he had somehow managed to fix things, but whatever she was feeling, she was now back in control.

He, on the other hand, was being driven slowly insane.

Last time, Dara had kissed him. Sure, he had goaded her into it, but she had turned things physical, she had wanted him, they had even spoken without arguing afterwards. And she was honest with him—no protective walls made of falsely flirtatious charm or even righteous anger, just a little bit of humor, some quiet reflection, and that undercurrent of sadness that, he now knew, must follow her wherever she goes. It had been good, the sex was incredible, and it had helped her.

So why wouldn’t she look at him?

It was because of the end of that conversation afterward, maybe, when he’d asked about her scars. He had worried, even then, that he was delving into too-personal territory, and since then he’d spent not a small amount of time lying awake at night, replaying her hesitation, the tension in her shoulders when he’d asked about the war. It was obvious, now, that she hadn’t wanted to tell him.

It was just—he’d never seen her so open before. Relaxed, and loose, and satisfied, willing to indulge him. And then he had ruined it, and now she had to know that he was watching her, but she wouldn’t even glance his way.

At the moment, she was conversing seriously with Gregor. Her hands must have healed well enough—she’d removed the bandages just this morning, her palms once again smooth and unmarred. Her reading glasses were perched atop her head, and she pulled them on for a moment to consult the datapad she was holding before returning them to their resting place, nestled among the silver strands of her hair. Crosshair could practically still feel the way her soft locks had twisted around his fingers. He wanted to feel it again.

Echo brushed against his shoulder gently with his own. “You alright, vod?”

Crosshair scowled, agitating his toothpick back and forth in his mouth. “Just peachy.”

“Sure.” His brother rolled his eyes. “You, uh… Wanna talk about whatever’s going on between you two?” he asked, gesturing toward Dara with his scomp link.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. The sniper spun on his heel and strode off. “Going for target practice,” he spat over his shoulder.

Crosshair made his way across base toward an out-of-the-way rooftop that overlooked the long-distance range he and Omega had set up, beginning to feel more relaxed the further he got from the bustling activity. This was all he needed: a quiet place to focus, to calm his mind. To forget about her.

Obviously, Dara didn’t want him. She’d pushed him away after the first time, ignored him after the second, and—as seriously as he’d been considering picking another fight just to see if it would end with him inside of her again—it was time for him to take the hint. So he settled down into the familiar position and certain rhythm of his rifle, and concentrated on what he was best at.

He had been at it for nearly an hour when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him as someone climbed their way onto the roof. Something lurched strangely in his chest, and he hit another target rather than turning to look. He knew who it was, had memorized the pattern of her footfalls without even realizing it.

“Been searching for me, burk’yc?” Crosshair murmured. He squeezed off another shot.

Dara stood next to him, arms crossed, and peered in the direction he was shooting. It was fruitless—she wouldn’t be able to see the targets he was hitting unaided at this distance.

“You’re easy to find,” she retorted. “Just look up and follow the sounds of violence.”

Crosshair snorted. “Hardly any violence today. Just stationary objects.” He sat up and gestured towards his Firepuncher, smirking. He couldn’t help preening a little at the chance to show her the evidence of his skill. “Go ahead and look.”

Dara gave him an unimpressed stare, but still lowered herself to the ground. She laid on her stomach in front of the rifle and sighted through the scope, finding the far-off targets that he had been hammering unflinching holes into with pinpoint accuracy.

“Hmm.” She glanced up at him for a moment before looking back through the scope. “I guess I’ll give you credit for not taking it out on any of those flying fish.”

Crosshair scoffed, but found himself too distracted by the sight of her holding his rifle to come up with a rejoinder. He hungrily eyed the way her fingers curled around the grip and forestock and traced his gaze along her prone form.

Her proper form, he noted with some surprise. Her correct grip.

“Think you can hit something with that?” He posed the question half out of curiosity, half out of a lewd self-interest. He was already memorizing this image for later use—her actually shooting his rifle would be a nice bonus.

Dara looked back up and rolled her eyes at him. “Let me guess—you want to wrap your arms around me and show me how to hold it properly?” she mocked, snorting. “Wouldn’t be the first time a man tried that one on me.”

The sniper crossed his arms and glared. Honestly, he had been considering that, and he was a little annoyed that there was nothing for him to correct.

“Well, shoot it, then,” he huffed impatiently. The Firepuncher was too large for her, and the recoil would hit her hard, but that wasn’t his problem if she wanted to be a brat about it.

Dara shook her head in exasperation, but lined herself up again, angling the rifle toward one of the closer targets. It wasn’t far at all—he had set it up for Omega’s bow practice, since he himself wouldn’t even bother with something at that range—but it was respectable for a non-sniper, especially one without enhanced vision.

She exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. It hit a few centimeters to the left of center.

“That hurt,” she muttered, rubbing her shoulder and rolling it out. “Too much power for me. I’m used to my hunting rifle.” He watched as she adjusted and tried again, then again, getting closer each time.

“You didn’t learn that hunting,” Crosshair countered. She was too familiar with the scope, her fingers making adjustments with the familiarity of practice.

Dara took another shot, finally hitting center. “Nope.”

He huffed when she didn’t elaborate. “Boyfriend teach you?” he asked snidely, certain it would piss her off.

Her shoulders stiffened for a moment before she forced them to relax. “My friend used one during the war.” She settled into a rhythm, hitting a bullseye several more times before moving onto the next furthest target. “She taught me some, but I don’t have the accuracy at distance to be a sniper. Couldn’t forage all my food when I lived off-the-grid, so that’s still where I got the most practice.”

“Fuck,” Crosshair muttered as she shot again, doing better now that she was more familiar with the weapon. It was nothing particularly impressive, he reminded himself—but still, he could practically feel himself salivating. There was something about the methodical way she undertook the task—getting a feel for the rifle, making small but steady improvements until she performed consistently, then moving onto the next challenge—that appealed to him.

She grinned and looked up at him over her shoulder. “What?” she teased. “You like when I look a little dangerous?”

Kriff, she was doing this on purpose, wasn’t she? Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she hadn’t been speaking to him. She knew what she was doing right now. She had come looking for him.

She still wanted him.

Crosshair lowered himself to his knees, straddling either side of Dara’s legs as she lay prone beneath him, and ran his hands along her hips and waist. He took his time, savoring her curves. She shivered, and flexed her grip against the rifle—his rifle.

“I—I told you this wouldn’t work on me. Can’t seduce me this way.” Her voice was already breathy.

Crosshair slipped his hands beneath her to unbutton her trousers, taking time to savor the feel of the soft skin of her belly against his calloused fingertips. “Obviously you’re the one seducing me, mesh’la.” He slid her pants and underwear down so they rested just beneath the knee, then angled her hips up. She obliged, so willingly, shifting so that she was positioned on her hands and knees, clicking the rifle’s safety on and setting it back down as she did so.

“I’m not the one who started this,” Dara shot back.

He sighed contentedly at this new angle, the way her cunt was spread out beneath him like a ripe fruit to devour. Trying to remain patient, to drag this out as long as possible, he pulled his gloves off and slid his palms along the soft curve of her ass, pushing her shirt up to kiss a trail up her spine. She hadn’t worn the poncho today, and he wondered whether she was thinking of this, thinking of him, of giving him easier access, when she’d decided not to.

“Aren’t you?” Crosshair replied. “You came looking for me for a reason.”

Dara murmured in acknowledgment as he let his hands and tongue roam, dedicating himself to making her shiver. He kneaded at her hips, stroked along her inner thighs, slipped beneath her breastband to pinch a nipple.

One hand ghosted so close to her wet heat that he swore he could feel it radiating from her. “So what was the reason?” he whispered against her skin.

She smirked over her shoulder at him. “Wanted to fuck.”

Crosshair grinned wickedly and sank his teeth into the meat of her hip just as he pressed one long finger inside of her. Her moan synced with the flexing of her walls in response as he opened her up and felt her growing wetter by the second.

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, slipping another digit in. He straightened so that he was kneeling upright behind her, resting his left hand against the scar on her lower back and watching as his fingers disappeared over and over into her tight hole. Dara threw her head back, eyes screwed tight in ecstasy, and thrust her hips back to meet him, fucking herself on his hand, and Crosshair honestly couldn’t manage to conjure up a hotter image at the moment if he had tried.

She had come back for more. She wanted him.

Last time he had given her what she needed immediately, eager to distract her from her grief. Now, he wanted to tease her, to take his time patiently pulling her apart. To watch as she slowly came undone for him, at his mercy.

Even so, he doubted he could get her to beg for him—not yet, at least. She was too resistant to letting him lead, would surely stubbornly suppress anything that might even hint that he was in charge. Still, though, with her here, on all fours in front of him, admitting openly that this is what she desired—well, for now he would take what he could get.

His cock was uncomfortably hard against his codpiece, and Crosshair had to dip into his reserves of patience to stay focused. He shifted his fingers until he was hitting home inside of Dara, wrenching a low cry from her with every thrust. His thumb found her clit and rubbed slow, firm circles, increasing in speed as her moans became more wanton and he felt the fluttering of her cunt around him.

It was a struggle to pull away before she could reach the apex of her pleasure, especially as she practically chased his fingers with her hips—but he was nothing if not disciplined.

“You absolute kriffing bastard!” Dara groaned, fingers clawing at the duracrete. His eyes were glued to the sight of her pussy, dripping and clenching around nothing, but when he glanced up and met her eyes the strength of her glare could have dropped one of the flying fish right out of the sky.

Crosshair smirked. “Hit the next target, and I’ll let you finish.” He tasted his fingers, coated with her slick, not breaking eye contact even as he felt the urge to close his eyes to fully savor the heady, sweet flavor.

Dara’s eyes flashed, jaw working, and he imagined her mind was running through her options—yelling, fighting, finishing herself off—but evidently she decided that it would be quickest to simply do as he asked, and she gripped his rifle again, firing off an impatient blast that missed her objective entirely.

“You can do better than that, burk’yc,” he goaded over her huff of frustration. As Dara calmed herself, making more effort to line her shot up properly this time, he let his codpiece clatter to the ground, palming himself over his blacks. Her second attempt went wide as well, hitting the target but far off-center, and he tutted. When Dara bared her teeth at him over her shoulder once again at the sound, he spanked one round, enticing buttock. “Focus,” he chided.

Dara spewed out a series of words in a language he couldn’t identify but was certain consisted of the most vehement curses she was familiar with as she turned back toward the range. Grinning, he dragged two fingers through her pussy, gathering her wetness and making her shiver, and tugged his cock out of his blacks, needing some sort of relief for himself even as he tormented her. Slow strokes coated his length in her slick, taking a little of the edge off even as her hands on his rifle were riling him up further. Finally, Dara breathed deeply, muscles relaxing, and loosed a bolt that hit true.

“Good fucking girl,” Crosshair groaned, plunging his fingers back inside of her even as the hand fisting his cock sped up.

“You miserable… son of a nerf herding… bantha shit-brained…” Dara’s insults died away as her climax approached, dissolving into moans as Crosshair expertly guided her toward the edge. When she reached it, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, greedily drinking in the way the tension in her muscles loosed all at once, her knees nearly buckling and mouth letting out delicious little whimpers from behind bitten lips. Suddenly, he found himself having to stop his strokes entirely, clenching the base of his shaft, the sight bringing him far too close to finishing for comfort.

Crosshair gave himself just long enough to avert a crisis—there was no possible way he was going to cum before he was sheathed inside her again—but not long enough for Dara to fully recover. He bent over, lips to her ear, rutting his hard length up against her ass.

“You knew what you were doing to me, holding my weapon like that. Is this what you wanted? For me to take you right out in the open like this?”

Dara was still unsteady on her hands and knees, voice breathy, but not so far gone to keep from snarking at him. “Not my fault… that you… have a fetish…”

He chuckled darkly. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. You’re a filthy thing, aren’t you? I’d bet there’s no end to what you’d let me do to you.”

Dara looked over her shoulder at him again, rolling her eyes with a lazy contentment and smiling wryly. “Is that a promise?”

All that meant was that Crosshair could see the exact moment her eyes rolled back into her head when he plunged his cock into her. He straightened, gripping her hips tightly as leverage to pull her back hard onto his length, driving into her at a pace that punched the air out of her lungs in desperate little cries. The plastoid of his thigh guards bit into the flesh of her ass, creating cute dimples that he wanted to bite, to tongue, to suck, to claim as his own. He sent one hand up to grip her by the hair, brushing it aside to get a better glimpse of the pleasure on her face, happy to once again feel the soft, warm strands beneath his calloused fingertips.

Everything about her seemed designed to drive him mad. He wanted more, more, always more, wanted her fully nude below him, to see the sensual curve of her back and her bare tits bouncing with every thrust, to have everything, all of her, to look into her eyes as they went hazy with pleasure—but for now this was all he had. And still, how kriffing good it was, the long minutes he could steal sheathing himself in her heat, reveling in the way just a slight change in angle of his cock had her melting for him.

Then her body suddenly stilled completely, her hips no longer thrusting back to meet him, only rocking gently with his movements, before a shudder passed along her spine and her head was thrown back and he could see she was no longer entirely here, lost in her pleasure, a far-off smile playing along her lips and then her mouth opened wide and she cried out and shuddered even harder beneath him, cumming violently as he kept fucking into her without mercy, muttering filth that he wasn’t even sure she could hear.

“That’s it. Take it. Fuck, you take me so well, squeezing that tight little cunt around my cock. Feels so good when you cum around me. Can barely stand seeing your hot fucking ass like this, bouncing while I take you from behind. Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up, fuck!”

Crosshair’s vision blurred as he found he couldn’t hold back any longer, barely able to keep his balance as his orgasm overcame him. The feeling of his hot seed spurting impossibly deep inside Dara filled him with satisfaction to match his pleasure, and he bent over to lazily mouth at her neck, knowing that, at least for today, she remained marked by him. He found he didn’t want to withdraw from her even as he felt himself growing softer, wondering how long he could get away with staying just like this, his cock warm and Dara beneath him just a little longer.

It was Dara who took the initiative, edging forward and collapsing onto the duracrete with a satisfied hum. Crosshair replaced his codpiece before laying down next to her, one arm tucked beneath his head, as she rolled over and tugged her pants back up.

He frowned, noticing scrapes along her knees before the bare skin disappeared beneath clothing.

“I hurt you,” he muttered. His contentment leaked out of him, deflating rapidly like air from a balloon.

Dara shrugged, unaffected, looking up into the darkening sky. “It’s just a few scratches.”

“Yes, but—” Crosshair huffed in frustration. She was right, he didn’t understand why he was feeling this way, a strange sort of misery suddenly hovering over him. “Your hands just healed,” he finished lamely, and that didn’t explain anything.

She chuckled, still not looking at him. “Well, what did you expect? Duracrete’s not a forgiving surface.” He was silent, not sure how to articulate anything, because she was right, he should’ve known, hadn’t cared enough to think about her comfort, too occupied with want, with pushing her, with taking her roughly, and—

A hand squeezing his interrupted the spiral. Dara was looking at him, brow furrowed with concern, and he wasn’t sure what she was seeing on his face. A part of him wanted to storm off, push her away and go somewhere quiet to sort through whatever this mess was, but then she was squeezing his hand again and he fought the urge.

“Hey—” Her voice was soft, soothing. “It’s okay. It was worth it. I liked it.”

Crosshair let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and nodded, not trusting his voice. Dara let go of his hand and looked back to the sky, giving him a break from scrutiny and a few precious moments to recover before she pressed again.

Her voice was casual, nonjudgmental, when she resumed. “You’ve bruised me before,” she observed, hastily continuing before he could react, “I liked that too. What’s different about this time?”

He popped a toothpick in his mouth, worrying it with his tongue, contemplating for a moment, before muttering, “That was on purpose. This—it was an accident. I didn’t think.” Maybe if he had, he would be equally as pleased with her scraped knees as the other evidence of his roughness, the fading marks from before that still littered her hips and shoulders.

“Ah.” She was looking at him again, too sympathetic and beneath it a little amused, and he didn’t like any of that. “Do you always have to be in control during sex?”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me. I get that enough from Tech,” Crosshair shot back testily. She raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, and he felt a little better, back in the familiar territory of banter. It was okay, he was okay, she liked it and she still wanted him, and he reached toward her to grasp her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Dropping his already gravelly voice even lower, he murmured huskily, “When I hurt you, it will be on purpose, and you’ll be begging me for it.”

Dara shivered and he felt his cock twitch with renewed arousal. He leaned in to steal a kiss, feeling her mold to him and tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, ready to deepen the contact and spend the rest of the night exploring ways to finally make her beg.

“Crosshair!” He sighed at the familiar, young voice calling to him as he broke away. Dara recovered quickly, smirking in amusement as he hauled himself up and stalked to the edge of the roof. At the bottom of the ladder, Omega was smiling up at him, a ray of sunshine in the fading light of the evening. Behind her, Hunter raised an eyebrow at him knowingly.

“It’s time for late meal!” His sister shouted up.

Sighing again, Crosshair returned to retrieve his rifle. Hesitating a moment, he offered a hand to Dara to help her up, but she waved him away, gaze returning to the slowly appearing stars. Wordlessly, he padded over to the ladder and began his descent, pausing only a moment to take in the languid, satisfied lines of her form before he left her behind.

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster

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