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mareagirls · 6 months ago

Note

OK this just hit me and if i wrote for joel id have a blast with this BUT

what if r and joel were out on a job somewhere or going to his storehouse outside the qz and instead of ellie being bitten and immune it’s r!!!!! the drama when she doesnt turn

LOL not me acting like you didn’t send me this request over a year ago, i’m so sorry it’s so late 😭 i hope you like it sweetheart. I’ll come back and check this for typos later!

> established relationship, established family dynamic, protective!joel, sad joel, sad ellie but she tries to hide it, sad reader but there is fluff and comfort and the end i promise

tws: reader asks joel to kill her (i'm not sure if this should be a tw but just incase!

I believe unconditionally in a free Palestine, and am aware that one of the creators of TLOU is a zionist. i do not support this and strongly encourage anyone reading this to engage with the link below!

how you can help Palestine

There’s a clicker snapping and snarling above you. You bring your arms up to keep it away from your face as you try to shove it off. Joel won't take the shot, you think, not when there’s a risk of hitting you.

With a final push of adrenaline, you manage to kick it up so it’s further off you. You scream out for Joel then, strangled.

“Fuck- Joel!"

The rippling bang of a gunshot pierces the air.

The thing on top of you goes slack, features still contorted in a gruesome snarl. You shove it off and scramble away, standing up as soon as you’ve put enough distance between you. Silence returns to the forest.

When you look up, you don’t find the relieved looks you’re expecting from either of your companions. Joel is looking at you, horror painted across his features as he stares at your arm.

You follow his gaze down.

Blood is leaking out of a clear bite mark just above your wrist. Your shirt and skin are shredded where the things teeth ripped into you. Red coats your hand, dripping thickly onto the ground.

Your legs go weak at the sight.

"Shit- shit, Y/N-" Ellie is panicking. She’s closer by, arms reaching out for you. You take a half step back, unwilling to let her get nearer, and her head snaps up. "It got you."

You all know what this means. It’s a death sentence. A promise that even if you’re not dead now, you will be very soon.

You look at Ellie with a wobbly smile that you know won't do much to placate her panic. She looks like she might cry and behind her, Joel has gone rigid - eyes wide, hands in tight fists by his sides. You don't know what's worse.

"It's alright, Ellie, sweetheart," you focus on trying to calm the girl down first. “It's okay. It's alright. You have to leave me here."

Before Ellie can retort, Joel stiffens.

"No- no." He collects himself, rolling his shoulders slowly as if to shake off the stupor. “That is out of the question.”

You think to yourself that denial looks devastating on him.

"Joel," his name is a broken supplication on your lips. "You need to take Ellie and get back to Jackson. She needs to be safe."

It’s low, reminding him of how dangerous the world is in an effort to make him focus, but Joel cares about keeping you and Ellie safe above anything else. Reiterating that he can’t protect everyone might hurt him, but it’ll keep them both alive long enough to forgive you.

You're shaking, you realise then. Tremors wracking your body as the adrenaline of the fight dissipates and leaves horror in it's wake. You glance at the bite again and a low wounded noise escapes you.

Joel steps forward, arms reaching out to comfort you instinctively, and you take two back, doing your best to avoid the hurt that flashes in his eyes. His voice is ragged when he next speaks, and Joel Miller has never been one to beg, but right now he’s sounding awfully close.

“Let us stay with you."

“The bite is in your arm, right?" Ellie regards you carefully. "You still have a few hours left. We can keep you company."

Shaking your head, you step further away.

"I don't want you to see me turn into one of those things."

“We’ll kill you before you get to that point.”

Ellie speaks matter of factly, but you don’t miss the way her hands flit anxiously at her sides. She’s tough, your girl, but you and Joel both know her tells better than you know yourselves. Behind all the snark and self assuredness, she’s a kid. You wont force her to watch another person she cares about succumb to cordyceps.

“Ellie,” you try to reason. “I don't want you to see me like that.”

You turn to Joel, expecting agreement, but he’s wiped his face clear of any emotion, inscrutable - you cant read him at all. He's putting his walls up, brick by brick in an attempt to hide how he feels. You don't blame him - you think you'd do the same were your roles reversed.

“We’ll stay with you, Y/N.” His runs a tired hand over his beard. “No infected or people 'round here for miles. We can set up camp. When the time comes...”

He trails off, like he can't bring himself to say the words.

And that's that.

Night falls.

Joel ties you up to a tree as a safety precaution, grunting a soft apology when he pulls the rope across your chest too tight and you wince.

Despite your protests, he bandages the bite, careful motions and gentle hands. He thumbs over it when he’s finished, more out of habit than reassurance. You doubt he even realises.

Ellie tries to crack some jokes, doing her best to alleviate the mood. You offer her a halfhearted smile in return but you can tell she's not convinced by it.

It all feels overwhelmingly pointless. Joel will have to kill you soon, and if he can’t, you’ll do it yourself. He's only delaying the inevitable by keeping you alive. When you try to tell him so - try to make it clear that he's just putting himself and Ellie in danger - the man’s shoulders go tight and he turns away from you.

You don't try to dissuade him again.

Now, Ellie is reading her comic by the gas lamp, eyes flickering to you every so often. You twist your body away from her as much as you can and stare into the dark of the woods. You don't want to risk her seeing you get sick. You want her to remember you healthy, smiling - not overcome by the infection.

Joel comes over to you with your water flask in hand and you shake your head. You shouldn't use up resources when you'll be dead soon. When you tell him as much, the man bites his lip but stays quiet. He doesn’t question you though - water is a valuable resource. He knows that just as well as you do.

"Shoot me the moment I start to turn." You murmur, quietly so that Ellie won’t hear you. Joel looks down at you, ashen. Some of the barriers that he’s put up since you were bitten fall away - you see glimpses of the Joel you know inside.

He’s afraid. Devastated. Doing his hardest to keep it together for you and Ellie.

"Y/N-"

"Promise me, Joel. Promise me you'll shoot me."

He swears it, and the words hang stagnant in the air between you.

You thank him before turning away again, raising your voice a little so that Ellie can hear you too when you next speak.

"Goodnight."

I love you both so much. I'm so honoured I got to love you. I'm sorry we didn't get more time. Keep eachother safe. I love you. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry.

It's easier than saying goodbye.

You wake with a start to the feeling of someone tapping your cheek.

It’s still dark, the gas lamp casting long and shifting shadows on the small clearing where you've set up camp, but all you can think about is the fact that someone is touching you.

Flinching back with a gasp, you snatch your bitten arm to your chest. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to what's around you.

Ellie and Joel are kneeling by your side, the latter's hands raised as to not spook you. You blink up at them, not understanding. When Joel tries to get closer, you curl in on yourself, the back of your head clipping against the tree and causing you to wince.

"It's alright,” Joel’s saying. “The infection didn't take. You're alright."

You can barely understand him past the rushing in your ears, still focused on the lingering feeling of his rough fingertips on your face.

"Why would you- Fuck, Joel. I'm fucking infected! Why would you touch me? " You're panicking, gasping between words. All you can think of is that Joel touched you and he could get infected too now and Ellie will be alone if you both get sick. She'll have to kill you both.

Joel looks like he wants to get closer, but when he tries, you make yourself as small as possible- knees up against your chest.

"Please, Joel- I don't want to hurt you."

The man shakes his head but doesn't try to come closer again. "You won't. You won't."

"You're still alright, Y/N," Ellie is kneeling on the other side of you. She picks up your injured arm and tugs off the bandage before you can stop her. "Look," she urges. "The infection hasn't taken."

Sure enough, the bite mark is still there, - angry and red and crusted with blood, but there aren’t any purpling veins expanding from it. No greenish hue indicating infection.

This is a trick, you think then. A cruel trick your mind is playing on you in your last moments of clarity. A sick manifestation of your survival instinct begging you to not lose hope.

“You’re not feverish,” Ellie continues. “You’re not coughing or vomiting.”

When you look back at Joel, he looks so convinced - more hopeful than you've ever seen him in the time you've known each other. Nothing else has ever given him that expression. Not the Firefly's promises of revolution, not the prospect of a cure. Joel Miller's thought processes have always been grounded in reality - stoic, stony, calculating.

But right now it looks more like those of the countless QZ kids who get drawn into the Firefly's ranks every year on promises of a better future. You want him to snap out of it. Want to remind him that idealism can only bring trouble- he taught you that.

"The infection hasn't taken yet, Y/N." Ellie is still speaking, small hands gripping yours. "It should have by now. You're still alright. Maybe you're immune like me."

You fight the urge to believe her. "Maybe it's just taking longer to spread.”

"And why the fuck would it do that?" Joel snaps at you, breathing in deep when you flinch at his tone. He runs a hand through his greying hair.

"I'm sorry, I’m sorry. I just- think about it, darlin'," the pet name he usually only reserves for the moments you're alone slips out. "Ellie is right. It should have spread by now. It's been hours."

And you are thinking about it, you are, but you also don't want to hold onto foolish hopes. The likelihood of you and Ellie both being immune feels unfathomable.

“Don’t give me this, Joel,” you say, quiet.

“Don’t give you what? Hope?”

“You promised you’d shoot me!”

Your voice rises, and you realise then how hysterical you sound. Joel’s hand moves to his chest, like it’s physically hurting him to hear you speak like this.

“I promised I’d shoot you when the infection set in. It hasn’t.” His tone is clipped, even, but his expression is anything but.

“So you’re telling me that you’re going to be able to look me in the eyes and put a bullet through my eyes when it does? After you’ve worked yourself up into the idea that I might fucking survive this?”

Surprisingly, Ellie is the most level headed, interceding between the two of you.

She speaks quietly, evenly. “We should just wait a bit more.”

You try to intercede but she stops you.

“No, Y/N. You’re tied up and you’re not getting sick right now. We should wait a few more hours.”

“Ellie-"

“I won’t lose someone else if I don’t have to.”

Your shoulders sag under the weight of what she's saying. Ellie leaves no room for argument. She wraps a clean bandage around your wound and brushes her thumb over it the same way Joel did last night. They’re so alike without even realising it. You tell yourself that at least they’ll have eachother when you’re gone.

A tentative voice whispers inside your head;

If you’re gone.

By the evening of the next day, nothing has changed.

Joel and Ellie have barely left your side, the former only disappearing into the woods for a half hour before returning with a few dead rabbits.

"You should try eat something.”

You don’t have an appetite. Haven’t since you were bitten, but Joel and Ellie keep looking at you like you’ll keel over if you don’t eat, so once he’s skinned and cooked the meant, you take what is given to you.

Your companions seem to have taken this new change in their stride, Ellie especially has come to terms with the idea of you possibly being immune very rapidly, but it’s a lot to wrap your head around. You flinch away whenever they get too close, and when Joel tries to untie you, you don’t let him.

“Y/N.”

“Please don’t.”

He swallows hard but nods.

That night you fall asleep still tied up against the tree. You’re woken by nightmares of rotting flesh.

You don’t shut your eyes again after that.

It takes three more days for you to let Joel touch you.

You let him untie you on the second because you’re painfully aware that your little group needs to keep moving. You’re unsure about whether you’re still heading for the Fireflies or if Joel has changed route and is taking you all back to Jackson, but you keep your distance either way, choosing to walk a few meters behind them at all times. You keep talking to a minimum, too overwhelmed and exhausted to say anything. Between the two of them, they make up for your lack of sound. Ellie chatters a lot anyway, and Joel answers all her questions, humouring her every joke. He’s filling in gaps that you’d usually contribute in you realise. Sometimes, their voices even drown out the noise in your head. It’s a pleasant distraction.

The next time you set up camp, Ellie goes straight to sleep. Something in her seems to have relaxed since you haven’t become infected. Joel is sat nearby, having offered to take first watch. His features soften when he doesn't think anyone’s looking. A small smile tugging at his lips as Ellie snorts and mumbles something in her sleep.

When he notices you staring, he offers you a tired smile.

“You should get some rest, sweetheart.”

Nodding, you get into your sleeping bag. You’re still not sure what to say and do, but if Joel thinks anything of your apparent immunity, he hasn’t shown it. He’s probably trying to let you rationalise and make peace with what’s happened on your own before he or Ellie give their input.

You try to sleep, you really do. But every sound the forest makes has you flinching, peering into the darkness, shifting in your sleeping bag restlessly.

You don't know if it's the overwhelming stress of the last few days, or the exhaustion, or something else entirely, but once you've started to cry, you can't stop. You try valiantly to smother the sound by clamping your hand over you mouth, but Joel has always been far too attentive for your liking. When the second sob leaves you, you hear him walk over. He stops in front of you, taking in your form (curled up in your sleeping bag, hand pressed against your lips, tears streaming down your face) and a small breath escapes him.

"Oh, my girl."

Before you can apologise, Joel is crouching down in front of you.

"Can I hold you?" His palms are up, open. He doesn’t mean any harm. He won’t hurt you, he never has. More importantly, you won’t hurt him.

Part of you wants to say no - still not used to the idea of being immune - but his proximity makes your skin sting and ache for contact, you're hurting almost with the absence of touch. After days of sitting so far away from Joel and Ellie with nothing but your jacket around you, you give in to him.

"Please."

It's all it takes. One minute Joel is still staring at you like he doesn't want to scare you off, and the next, he's pulling you firmly to his chest, sleeping bag and all.

He smells like pine. Feels like safety. When he presses his lips to the crown of your head, your sobbing intensifies.

"That's it, honey. Let it out. You're safe."

His arms are crowding you, but it doesn't feel stifling. It feels like coming home.

You shudder in his hold. “I’m scared, Joel. I was really fucking scared.”

“I know, baby” he coos - softer than you’ve ever heard him. “S’okay. It’s been a scary few days, hm?”

Another great sob cracks through you and you nod as Joel’s large hand moves up over your back to cup your head carefully. He holds you like a babe, like you’re something worth saving, and if he's afraid of the fact that you were bitten, he doesn't show it.

“It’s alright, honey. You’re safe. I’m gonna keep us all safe.”

He rocks back and forth gently with you clasped to his chest.

"It was killin' me, y'know? Not bein' able to hold you. Comfort you.”

"I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta be sorry, sweetheart. Just know that we got you." He smatters more gentle kisses along your hairline. "Me, you, and Ellie. We're a team."

You nod, because you are a team. You have been for months now. You trust them to keep you safe.

“What are we- What ‘re we gonna do, Joel? The bite…”

Joel shushes you easily, shaking his head.

“That’s a problem for tomorrow. We’ll face it when the morning comes.”

You sink into his chest further, nodding.

“Thank you.”

Joel pulls away ever so slightly to look you in the eyes properly.

“Don’t gotta thank me, honey. Don’t ever gotta thank me for anything at all.”

You fall asleep like that; held to his chest like something worth protecting. That night, no nightmares come.

#Joel miller x reader #Joel x reader #Ellie williams #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #Ellie tlou #the last of us #joel miller drabble #Joel miller one shot #joel miller angst #Joel miller hurt/comfort #Joel is so ooc in this but idc #my works! 💌#tlou fanfiction

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itsagrimm · 2 years ago

Text

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 9 - Of Moons and Monsters

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of cannibalism, arranged marriage, disrespecting and displaying a corpse, ableist language, internalised toxic masculinity, creepy observers with no understanding of boundaries, warning for those who have issues with paranoia, König has issues and needs fairy tale therapy

Not sure how the phases of the moon work? Click here.

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Partly beta-read by the amazing @queenquazar. There are typos in there but I need to publish this asap before spiralling into another round of rewriting this for the 10th time. also, thank you so much for baring with me.

6.9k words

Masterlist

this is a hit or miss chapter. love it or hate it. i am ready to throw out my laptop bc this chapter was hard to write.

Oh and I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

As the King of Everything from Under the Water, König never grew tired.

As a man, König felt like he was grinding his bones into dust.

The never-ending work started to get to him, eternal weariness was wearing him down like a stone getting chipped away in the currents.

He yawned.

During the day König worked on the Half-Palace. The Half-Palace was getting close to being done, rising up into the sky as high up as it reached down low and deep into the waters. It was a marvel. But König was not done yet, working tirelessly to finish his new residence to finally marry and bring his fiancé home safely.

During the night König guarded his Bride. With his axe in his hands, he stalked her garden, carefully avoiding her strawberry patches and making sure no villager or malevolent creature harmed her. The rumours of a human maiden marrying the Vodyanoy had made its rounds, and König started to see more unusual unwelcome guests creeping in the shadows. Sometimes he found villagers too, boys who turned on their heels just at the sight of König’s giant frame, axe, and piercing deep blue, ever-seeing eyes. Not all the trespassers were clever enough to run away at the sight of him. Twice König used his axe and spilled blood. First time it was a Tschort trying to sneak through the kitchen window. The other time a Kikimora nearly made her way to the Bride’s window. König got to them both in time, killing the intruders with quick blows of his axe and hanging them up in the alder tree around the bride’s house for the night as a warning. The first time his bride cried out at the sight of it, the second time she did not cry anymore.

During the few moments in between when he walked at the lakes beach with her or closed his eyes for a moment, worry consumed any thought in König’s mind. His Bride was fragile. The creeping beings in the shadows wanted her blood, her tender flesh, her inheritance. There was danger everywhere and König started to feel on edge from being on the lookout all the time. In all his life he had experienced worries and insecurities. Now he had learned to fear - for her.

In those moments König wished he could just ignore all tradition and carry her to the half-finished Half-Palace before the wedding to keep her out of the hands of those that wanted to tear and bite and kill and devour her. But then he looked at his own hands - long clawed fingers that could wrap around her neck and break it like a twig or drag her down the deep waters until she was nothing but a lifeless body. The first time that realisation hit him, it had mortified König. He was a danger - just like all the others. And she was just a girl. A girl that managed to get tangled up with him. Baba Jaga’s words still hung over him, telling him he had to sacrifice something to keep his Bride safe. Something deep inside of him knew he had done it wrong, all of it so far. Her fear of water was testimony of it. And so he sacrificed everything for her. But one question remained.

Will it be enough?

Feeling tired and drained, König sighed and made another round to check for danger. For now, no one was there but the moon, rising over the gable of the Bride’s house.

Peaceful, calm, familiar.

König nodded in greeting to the silent lunar wanderer. At least the moon was not out for his Bride. For now.

Of course, the thin slice of the waxing crescent did not nod back.

It was the moon after all.

König let himself fall onto the grass again, leaning against her door and closed his eyes.

A moment, just a moment of rest.

Rest.

Rest…

Sleep was alluring. It called to him like the Rusalkis called for him to return to just being in the water.

Just a little bit...

Just a bit closer…

No harm in it…

With a low “thud” the axe slipped out of his hands, waking König back up from his light short slumber.

König shook his head.

No! He had to stay up. Another Tschort could try to crawl in any moment or Ivar might wipe up the village into a frenzy and come for her. His Bride was so frail in comparison to him, a little maiden and nothing more. Just yesterday she cut herself with a kitchen knife. Or was it tomorrow? Does not matter! One day she would hurt herself again and he had to make sure that would not happen. He could take it, not sleeping and working every moment. His body will withstand. He was a king after all! He was her guardian, her fiancé and soon-to-be husband, her man.

And she was worthy of König to grind himself down as a payback for the life he had condemned her to and the pain he would cause her with his huge hands and sharp claws. Sleep and labour was a necessary sacrifice.

“You are an idiot.”

König looked up, searching for the source of those words.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. You are an idiot and deep down you know it already.”

König got up from his spot, taking up his axe.

“Who is it! Come out! Show yourself!” The king called.

“I am not hiding myself. You just don’t see what is in plain sight like the fool that you are.”

Confused, König's head whipped around, searching for whoever was talking to him.

“Here, little king. Up!” The voice called. “You are not used to looking up when speaking, aren’t you?”

As told, König looked up while raising the axe in expectation to see a new threat, a new danger, a new assailant.

What he saw instead was the moon.

“Hello.”

König blinked, not understanding how and why the thin lunar sickle was smiling down at him.

“Don’t look so surprised!” the moon scolded with a laughing tone. “You greeted me yourself.”

“How?” König asked, lowering the axe.

“You are asking me how I can speak?”

König considered the moon's words before smiling shyly like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Okay, that’s fair. You can speak just like I can.”

If the moon could nod it would have done so. Somehow König felt like far out in the interstellar realm of implausibility the moon indeed did nod at him.

“Why after millennia of not speaking to me you do now, moon? I greet you twice a day.”

“I grew to like you, little one. And I got bored watching you self-mortifying yourself. It was entertaining for a while until it became the most pointless thing I have witnessed in a long time.”

“What do you mean, Moon? I am not mortifying myself! How would you even know.”

The moon raised an eyebrow at König. Somehow it did that.

“Please. I have better eyes for that than you, little king. I do nothing else but watch and witness.”

Unconvinced, König crossed his arms.

“What do you know about me and my worries?” He countered.

“Only about half of it. I just see you at night.” The moon admitted. “Shame really. You doing everything else but talking to your fiancé is quite the sight.”

“What is there to talk about?” König replied. “Spare me. Everything is clear. She is just a nice girl who ended up engaged with me, so I have the duty to protect her.”

“Sure, little king. Then you would have no issue just crossing that doorstep of hers and telling her that. Sacrifice the facade and just take her to that Half-Palace of yours and be done with it. It’s all just formalities and traditions at this point. You are just concerned for her safety.”

“I am concerned for her safety.”

König gazed around the dark garden. There was the spot where Ivar had threatened his Bride. And the alder tree König had strung up those that had wanted to harm her. And the axe with which nowadays he did as much killing and fighting as he did building.

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

XXX

König looked at the Bride’s door. The familiar wooden frame she walked through every day. It would be easy to just open it and go in. Or knock? König felt like she would appreciate a knock before getting dragged out of her family home in the middle of the night in the name of her safety and his pragmatic marital claims.

Up in the night sky the thin moon sickle was grinning at the sight of the fool calling himself King, silent and expectant to watch something - anything - happen.

But it did not.

Not every night was calm and spent in solitude.

A bunch of laughing and giggling Rusalkis decided to join him and the occasionally appearing fox on his guard post. König looked around, seeing the half-moon rise above the horizon. It had been silent ever since that night a while back.

Of course, the Bride was still sleeping in her own house.

Of course, he had not even attempted to move her from it.

They were still unmarried.

It was tradition König told himself.

She would not want to be in the nearby finished castle with him anyway.

“Why so grim dear Vodyanoy?”

Startled, König spinned around, teeth barren and the axe in his hands.

“Easy.” A rusalka straying behind soothingly replied, her hands up.

König stilled.

“Oh it is you, Lada.” He said and lowered his axe, “I am sorry. I thought someone had crept up to me.”

Lada leaned forward. Her pretty eyes gazed up at him as she lowered her hands.

“You know, not everyone is out there to get you or the Devitsa, Vodyanoy. Take a rest. We can guard her in the meantime.”

“No.” He grumbled. “It’s nice that you are here to help, but she is my responsibility to carry. I brought this upon her.”

Curiously, she leaned forward.

“Oh, you do that a lot these days, König.” Her words splashing down her lips like a lively spring, unimpressed by the near display of violence moments before. “Always responsibility. Always offering yourself up like that makes a difference. Tell me, is this spectacle for you or her?”

“It’s not a spectacle.” König replied, moving back from her and crossing his arms before him.

Lada grinned.

“Alright. Sure. Good luck.” She declared and waved a goodbye at him before, jumping back like a firefly raving in zig zag over a pond's water. König watched Lada return to the other Rusalkis, giving a sharp, toothy and nearly careless smile to flirt with the Fox. They seemed so content with chatting in the moonlight. As if stalking and hunting intruders was a Rusalki past-time. Knowing the Rusalkis it probably was.

König suppressed a yawn, unwilling to admit Lada was right. He really needed to take a break. Soon, when he was married and the bride was safe. He would have given anything he had in him then. But until the wedding there was no point of even thinking about rest or the life leisure he had known before.

Was he really that busy all the time?

Unapproachable and lost in his own thoughts nowadays?

König remembered how much time he used to spend with the Rusalkis. Oh, he did. They had played, filling the air with splashed water, with laughter, with moans.

It felt so long ago.

He hadn’t even thought about it.

Would his marriage remove him forever from that part of his life?

He stilled as the realisation hit. It hurt. But only a little.

Thinking about the Bride's little human fingers that tangled his hair, asking him how his day was, telling him about hers pleased him. König had gotten used to the Bride in his life so quickly, he wanted more of it.

But enough to stop lust and satisfy his more carnal desires?

She…

You promised to guard her, protect her, make her your Queen. Nothing else. König reminded himself unhappily and looked up, searching for answers in the night sky.

There were none, only the looming moon.

It was as if the half-moon was watching him with mockery, observing König’s thoughts and temptations.

König grunted.

Fine, maybe she was charming in many ways. He had to admit that to himself. But maybe that was another sacrifice he had to make for the sake of her. König was sure they could find an arrangement at some point. There was little he promised nor expected from her outside of their marriage. But that was for a moment in the future when he had the right words for it.

Until then, his tasks were easy: No sleep, no leisure, no lust.

König tapped on the hilt of the axe. It’s been a couple of days since he had to use it as a weapon and the calm waiting was wearing him down nearly as much as thinking about his forbidden Bride - her clever remarks, her unrelenting will to life, her careful steps around water. If he asked her opinion about his sacrifices she would say something wise. She always seemed to do, giving him little knowing looks over tea cups, over the lake, over hot puffs of breath escaping her lips. And when she spoke her words rang in his ear like music. Melodic syllables falling from her mouth like raindrops and teaching him of the world.

Now the bride's words were siren songs to him.

He sat down into the grass and watched the house of the bride. There she was, sleeping her well earned rest. And he was outside where he belonged with his claws and flaws and desires. He looked up to the sky. Cold stars and the unmoving moon grinned down at him, silent and calm unlike his thoughts. König wondered if it was easier that way, just to watch and never to do. Just to witness but never to participate.

No wonder the moon is a judgy creep.

König frowned, wishing he did not feel drained, unsure and like he had made the wrong decision.

Let them see. I will do right by her - König promised to himself.

XXX

The night was pleasant but cold. It had rained and the now cleared sky and fresh breeze added to the unusually cold summer weather. König was sitting right under the ledge of the roof, watching drops of the previous rain roll down from the leaves and running into little pools of water. It was calming. And with humid weather like that he knew at least no villager would show up, giving him one thing less to worry about.

König heard her steps before he saw her step out into the night. He looked up.

“König.” She greeted with a blanket around her shoulders. “Would you mind company? The full moon is so bright, and the rain kept drumming against the roof. I cannot sleep.”

He nodded before suspiciously eyeing the massive, silent luminary above them.

Creep.

She settled next to him under the dry roof, facing the dark garden and treeline with him.

“Are you okay?”

Her words reached into him and laughed at his convictions. Just hearing her voice made something stir in him.

“There was so little time these past days and we hardly spoke.” She continued. ”Can I help with something?”

König shook his head before even thinking.

His burden, not hers.

“No, Bride. You cannot fight the monsters lying in wait. You can’t even lift my axe.”

The thought of her facing another Kikimora, a Tschort or an angered, disapproving Rusalka terrified him. She did not even have teeth to tear and bite.

“Is fighting the only way to help?”

He looked down at her, the little pretty thing that he spent the day admiring while working and the night desperately trying not to think about.

She pressed her thighs closer to her body for warmth.

Tangled limbs, desperate touches, heated kisses. He could warm her up.

Instead, he lifted his arm and silently invited her closer. No point in keeping her cold.

“Yes, it is but it is unpleasant work, my Bride. We will marry soon, and you will be safe in the Half-Palace. Do not worry yourself.”

She moved closer, pressing herself into his warm body. With a stern look more for himself than to others König commanded the last of the drops on the grass and from the dripping roof not to touch his shivering maiden.

Of course, she did not notice, only purring like a cat before the warming fire.

For a moment they stayed like that as if she was thinking about his words while König closed his eyes for a moment, indulging in it.

“What will happen with my family’s house? I am fond of this place.” She asked finally.

König sighed and opened his eyes.

“Whatever you want, Bride. It is yours and it always will be.” He chuckled grimly. “Maybe you want to stay here every once in a while, when you grow tired of my company.”

“Do you think you are an unpleasant presence to be around?”

“At times.” He admitted.

“I do not.”

“You are too kind.”

“I doubt that.”

There it was again, the banter. She met him exactly at his level, hitting him playfully where he would never expect it. There was a lightness in her words that made him nearly believe her. König could not help but grin to himself while pressing her slightly closer.

“Any idea about the sacrifice?” She asked while leaning into him to cover his massive frame with what was left of the blanket. A cute but pointless gesture.

“I have some ideas,” König resigned. “But there is no way to be sure it is working and I doubt you want to test it.”

She shivered.

“No.” Her voice was thin and frail, hitting him with guilt.

“I think I need to ask my brothers for help.” König continued. ”But I'm not sure that is wise. It could be dangerous.”

She nodded. “I suppose dealing with family can be like that sometimes.”

König stilled, thinking about her words and listening to the drumming sound of the rain.

“Hmm, I suppose you know a lot about that,” He hummed and paused before daring to speak again. “May I ask … are you angry at your family? For marrying you off to me?”

It was as if he was asking the bravest question of all.

She shifted around.

“Sometimes,” She admitted. “It’s hard because till this day I love my family. But to be fair, marrying me off to a stranger was just the last thing of a long line of things that weren’t as well thought through or kind as they might have told themselves. Who knows. They are dead now and I am here. Could be worse.”

He nodded, trying not to feel too much about her words. Marrying him was bearable. König hardly blamed her. Still, it hurt more than he had expected. Was that pain another sacrifice?

“Could be worse.” He repeated flatly.

“Well now you make it sound bad. That’s not what I meant.” She muzzled into him as if she truly wanted to be there.

König closed his eyes, reminding himself not to lie to himself. This was just a practical arrangement for her. For him.

He cleared his throat.

“So, what do you think we should do?” The Vodyanoy changed the subject. “One brother you already know of is Simon. We used to be close but something happened and since then he is like a ghost of himself, moody and withdrawn but capable of kind and terrible things at the same time. It’s hard to know with him. He never formally claimed his kingdom, but everybody knows not to cross the master of the forest, the Leshy.”

The forest turned silent as if knowing that König talked about its master.

“What are the things that make him dangerous to be around?” Her voice was so little in the woodland's silence, so brave to speak.

König swallowed, remembering his days with his brother. They were long gone, lost in a sea of blood.

“Simon taught me how to kill.”

The forest stayed silent, as if trying not to breathe like an animal of prey sensing a possible predator.

“Oh.” Brave like a single flame in the dark she whispered into the night, breaking the silence, and releasing the forest from the dark grip of its master.

“I have other brothers but the one who could help is the deathless one - Koschei, the master of bones and battlefields. Nowadays he goes by the name Graves.”

“Charming. Leaves little to the imagination why he could be dangerous.”

He grunted in agreement.

“That’s quite a family I am marrying into.” The bride paused. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Scared?”

She shrugged.

“Only a fool would not fear a brother-in-law who is called deathless or for whom the forest dies down.”

Brave one.

“You do not have to marry me and into this family. You know that, right my Bride?” It felt right to say it and offer her a way out from the terror that was his presence.

She stared into the cold wet forest, unmoving and expressionless.

König wished he knew what she truly thought of right now.

“Do you not want me as your bride?” She asked finally with a flat voice.

Her lips singing the siren song. What does marriage even mean at this point?

“I promised it, did I not?” He said instead.

She nodded, a stony expression on her face.

“So, we stick to it.”

“Aye.”

König felt tired. Like he had run out of words, keeping it short and safe instead of pouring out his heart and burdening her. If only he could rest, lay down next to her and close his eyes.

“You say Simon was here?” The Bride mused. “He was the one to point out the danger to me. If he knew how to get rid of it or wanted to help, he would have done it. But he did not. I don’t think we can count on him here. Which leaves…”

“Koschei.”

König felt the corners of his mouth drop down into a disapproving frown.

He knew she was right. Still…

“Maybe there is a safer, cleverer way to engage with him?” The Bride continued. “He is the Deathless. I am sure he might know something and maybe a simple letter or a messenger will be enough. What do you think?”

Still unhappy, König considered her idea. It was sound. Yet the mere thought of having to ask his brother for help and being in debt to him worried him more than he wanted to admit. Graves always had a thing for pretty girls. And for his Bride to draw the attention of Koschei the Deathless did not only feel like asking for disaster but evoked new fears in König.

What if Graves would like her and do as he had done with many girls before?

A new ugly thought roared its head up.

What if the Bride would prefer Graves over him?

“If i keep practising my writing I can write to him.” His dearest Bride added. “I could ask for his council as a bridal gift. What kind of man would refuse or violate that?”

König took a deep breath. He hated how right she was.

“I could work but-”

“Perfect. Let us do it soon.”

Her voice left him as little room to argue as there was left under the blanket between her and König.

“Fine.” He surrendered like driftwood to the currents.

Instead of pushing for more she just sighed herself, relaxing into him and staring into the dark.

She will just be my Queen. König thought to himself, surprised by his own possessiveness. As long as she is safe, it will be fine. No need to worry more than usual.

She was here, at his side and safe.

Nothing more than someone like him could expect or ask for.

He closed his eyes again to enjoy the feeling of the Bride so close to him before straightening up and concentrating on being on guard again.

She yawned, muzzling closer.

“I might fall asleep here.” She admitted. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, Bride.” König replied with a feeling he wasn’t familiar with, “I’ll be there.”

xxx

It felt ridiculous how much König loathed the thought of his Bride meeting Graves. He knew it was unfair, hating what his own insecurities and worries did to him. The Bride had suggested a plan and he was the one not sticking to it, that odd feeling in his stomach stopping him from teaching her how to write or write Graves himself. Instead, König could not help but make excuses.

It’s late…

I am busy right now…

Maybe tomorrow…

König told himself that his worries and reservations were justified. He was just cautious. It was Graves after all, the Deathless, the one called master of bones and battlegrounds. And the Bride was so fragile in comparison to all those monsters and men.

“Just talk to her, boy!” The moon nearly shouted down from its high place one night right before vanishing behind a cloud.

König only shook his head.

The Bride was his responsibility and it was his duty to protect her from the world. That was his sacrifice. It had to be the answer. But then doubt whispered again to him.

Not good enough, Graves will be better for her.

A day passed, a night, another day. The Half-Palace was shaping up and König was dreading to be finished. He would bring her home then, far away from all those who were out for her blood.

But then she would be alone - with him.

Suddenly the axe was looking tiny in his hands, just a simple twig in clawed fingers made to rip and tear and drown.

He felt stuck - he was the reason for her troubles but also the key to her safety. He wanted to keep away but then how was he supposed to guard her? He wanted to marry her and be done with it. But what did marriage even mean for him? For her? Was it the delight in her presence he felt? The excitement of just talking to her? The secret longing to take her deep into the waters and embrace her with everything minor that he was, feeling her bare skin and tangled limbs and bubbles of air escaping her moaning lips and reminding him it would be the death of her.

Confusion dripped more into his tired and worn mind.

He was scared of himself and what he was capable of doing.

But no one could understand what he was anyway.

And so König kept it to himself.

That night he was alone. The Fox had gone home. He had young to play with tonight, he had said, and König had only nodded.

Yeah, yeah, sure, I understand.

Lada and all the other Rusalki left for some rest in the ponds, and rivers and lakes.

Deep down König knew that he needed some break as well.

But he was afraid of leaving the Bride alone or staying alone in the house with her. He was a danger too after all.

Defeated, he sat on his regular spot next to the door, gazing through the garden and hoping for nothing and something to happen at the same time.

The axe in his hand had started to rust a bit from all the blood it had spilled. A long time ago it had been a gift from his brother Simon, back when they were close.

“It does not have to be this painful, you know?”

König looked up, searching for the source of the voice. The garden with its tidy strawberry patches and attempts of growing buckwheat and sunflowers was as untrodden as it had been the last time he made his rounds.

“Still up here, little king.”

König looked up and the thin crescent of the waning moon smiled down softly at him.

König leaned back against the wall of the house.

“What do you want, Moon? I am tired. I don’t need a lecture or getting shouted at again.”

The grand luminary of the night sky stayed silent. König wondered if that was all then and prepared to get up again for another patrol round.

“I am sorry. I should not have done that.”

The Vodyanoy blinked in surprise.

“Is the mighty Moon apologising? To me?”

“Don’t make this harder than it is, little king.”

König crossed his arms but nodded.

“Fine. Your apology is welcome. What do you want, Moon?”

“I just want peace between us. Of all your brothers and the old beings walking this earth I feel the closest you. The waters and I… There is some magic working between us and I felt responsible to say something but I overstepped. That is not how good-”, the moon paused, “Neighbours, let’s say neighbours are supposed to be.”

König huffed.

“You are a creepy neighbour, you know that?”

Moon in its interstellar ways giggled.

“I am the watcher in the night. What else did you expect?”

“Maybe, but I don’t have to like it.”

The moon kept smiling.

“If you ever have children I will watch them and keep them safe just like I watch you and just like I watch your Bride.”

“I don’t trust that. And I doubt I will ever have children.”

“Who knows. That’s not up to me.”

They stayed silent.

Nervously, König grinded his teeth and considered what he had heard.

“You watch her too?”

“Yes.”

“Is she okay? Clearly all of this must get to her. And the arranged marriage…”

“Little King”, the moon whispered near softly, “Isn’t that something you should ask her yourself? Be brave. Talk to her.”

“You keep pushing me to talk to her!” König cried out in frustration. “Why? It wouldn't matter anyway! There is nothing to say. Our marriage is just a facade. I am the one most likely to harm her and there is nothing I could say or do to remedy that.”

The anger of the past months, bottled up and pushed down, made their way out of König. Like a hurt animal he howled his words up to the moon.

He jumped up. The axe was ready swinging in his hands, clawed and ready.

If he could, König would have picked a fight with whoever crossed his path just for the sake of it. But there was just the moon - cold and far away.

He screamed in anger.

“I do everything! And it’s not enough. I AM NOT ENOUGH!” König stalked around the grass and felt his anger dissipate with every step getting heavier and heavier.

“I am not enough.” He repeated with finality and came to a halt. “And I never will be.”

It was silent.

Conscious about his outbreak he looked around. Not a leaf dared to move around him. Ashamed he fell into the grass and covered his face.

“I am sorry. It was too much.” König mumbled as he tried to catch his breath and fight the tears. “I am not like that normally.”

“I know, König. It’s okay.”

The moon's words felt like the last push. König cried. He did not know why. Some of it he understood. But a lot were just tears he had to shed years, months, nights ago and now he did not know why he cried.

Heaving for air in between his sobs, König hears the moon's soft words.

“Oh it’s okay, König. It’s fine, little king. It’s fine…”

He was the water and the water him. Köng’s tears flowed endlessly until he was done and only a tired void was left in him.

He looked up to the moon, staring down at him. The soft smiling crescent unchanging and familiar, surrounded by a countless number of stars shining down at him.

“I am sorry for … this.” König started.

“No.” the moon interrupted. “Don’t you dare to apologise for crying. I mean it. It’s okay. Next time, just leave the axe out of it, okay?”

König looked at the axe a bit off in the grass. He had let go of it at some point, feeling like failure again - even in his sadness he was intimidating.

Vodyanoy nodded.

“Listen König, may I say something?”

Another nod.

“You breaking down like that was inevitable. Don’t torture yourself like that. You don’t need to carry it all alone. And I guarantee your the Bride would be the first to listen to you.”

A tired smile made its way up to Königs lips. “There it is again - you want me to talk to her. But she is so fragile. She can never do what I can. What’s the point?”

“You build her up in your mind as mighty as that castle of yours. She is the most fragile, the most worthy, clever and beautiful - don’t deny it. I watched you yearn for her for too long. But she is just a person and not your dream of her. And all your sacrifices are great but the one that truly matters you did not give.”

“Which one?”

“Honesty - with her, with you. You two need to talk with one another instead of silently offering yourselves up. She is not as weak as you make her out to be. And you, little king, are not always strong. It’s painful to watch.”

Defeated but not yet passive, König tried to reason. “You don’t understand. Besides, what is there to talk about?”

“That you care about her maybe? And that you care so much, that’s close to twisting into a mindless adoration suffocating both of you. Let her be strong and be to you what you are for her instead of sheltering and keeping her away. She is an ocean worth discovering, not a cup of water that needs to be kept out of the sun to not evaporate.”

König looked down at his hands. The same claws as always.

“Don’t start that again, boy. Get up, knock at her door and ask if you can sleep there. And tomorrow you can talk.”

Slowly, König eyed her door.

Disturb her? Be a burden to the one he wants to keep all burdens away from?

“Be brave, little king.”

The moon was wrong. Nothing could be fixed with talking. But what if the moon was right?

The door drew him in like nothing before.

And he was so tired.

König got up, collected his axe and stepped forward.

Should he really do it? The moon stayed silent, waiting for König to walk to the door and knock.

He took a deep breath, wiped his hand over his face and stepped forward.

This was it. It felt like the bravest, hardest thing he had ever done.

He knocked.

Cultural context

Tschort (literal translation: devil) can be both a plural and singular. It can be translated as demon or devil. But that only captures the word in its Christian context and not its presence in mostly in pagan traditions in folk and fairy tales. It’s easiest to understand a tschort as a type of evil or at least ill-meaning supernatural male being.

A kikimora is a bad female house spirit known for haunting dreams or generally the household. I know her as an entity that drives humans insane by whispering, stealing eggs, spinning spider webs and confusing her targets but there are other tales about her in which she has other abilities. There are proposed links between the Kikimora and the ancient Greek Moiren, the Germanic Nornen, and obviously the old Slavic goddess Mokosh. Funnily enough in the game “The Witcher 3” the kikimora is a type of giant spider.

Erle / alder is a very important tree in central European folklore and especially German speaking folk. Alder trees are part of the birch tree family, making them very resistant trees. The alder grows on very humid soil, often appearing close to bodies of water or moorlands. Since moors were associated with the dead, alders were considered a bit spooky. Alder trees ‘bleed’ a reddish liquid when being cut, adding to their spooky association. There are several rites around alder and alder twigs. The Erlenkönig or Alder king is a very famous German poem about an elven king trying to seduce a sick child to come and live with him. A german – English translation can be found here https://www.ogn.ox.ac.uk/sites/default/files/bellcogo2015.pdf All in all the alder tree is just a cool spooky tree with plenty of pagan-Christian connotations around it.

There are a few stories about the moon and as far as I am concerned, they all coexist in a semi plausible way. In the 1964 soviet, kids’ movie ‘Морозко’ the sun does not rise out of kindness to give the protagonist time to finish her nightly chores. The man on the moon or the moon face is a story drawing from German speaking tradition that the moon is a single wanderer watching out for those that cannot sleep or work late at night. It’s a kind presence and there are lullabies for kids about the nice man on the moon guarding them. Also, the moon as the cause of ebb and flood would be of interest to a water being like the Vodyanoy even though many Slavic folk traditions come from landlocked places therefore not noticeably experiencing the tides. At last, the moon is a way of keeping track of time, not just for eastern or central Europeans.

The Rusalkas name is Lada. Lada is a name used till this day. The origin of it is interesting. There are conflicting theories about ‘Lada’ being a possible Slavic goddess of marriage, fertility, love, spring and much more. Since primary sources on beliefs before Christianity in eastern Europe are basically non-existent, I would be careful with set ideas about the goddess Lada. The word лада appears to have further linguistic roots and connotations in old eastern Slavic and modern spoken Slavic languages like significant other, fret, lover, maiden, husband, etc. However, my Russian is far from good enough to get into this and I also don’t speak any other languages from this region. So please be mindful of that. If someone feels like educating me here, I would be very interested in learning more.

Little reminder – Rusalkis are something akin to mermaids or nymphs. They are loaded in symbolism as being promiscuous but also connected with children and childbirth, playful but also dangerous as they kill and drown those who harm them, spinning and washing clothes but also leisure, very much alive but also connected to suicide by drowning. In the stories I am familiar with, Rusalkis can leave the water if they want to, however there are stories where they don’t. Since Rusalkis are a staple in a lot of eastern European folk traditions, there is no one set idea what the right Rusalka is.

Koschei / Коще́й in Russian is the recurring male bad person in at least Russian Slavic folklore. Koschei is also called the immortal or the deathless. The name Koschei translated literally can mean something along the lines as the one of bones. Supposedly he is unkillable because he keeps his soul or heart secured in a separate place than his body. Often that is an egg which is placed in other animals which are guarded. Stories about Koschei tend to place him as the antagonist or love rival. Koschei is supposed to be rich and likes gold. He tends to kidnap, enchant, or marry unwilling young beautiful women (which require rescue of course). He is a sorcerer. Often, he is named as head of a castle or larger hall which indicates a ruler position. This is stressed with many tales naming him tsar / царь / ‘king’. There are links between Koschei and the other classical bad girl in Slavic folklore – Baba Yaga. That is symbolised by helping each other or being related somehow. However, they rarely appear together.

Addition by 'Uroo7kuro0': "Кощей" can come not only from the word "кость"/"bone". Also perhaps he's the prototype of another god whose name is "Карачун"/"Karachun" who was in charge of the cold. Interesting fact in some fairy tales Koschei and Baba Yaga were equally negative characters, while in others Baba Yaga helped the main characters kill Koschei

Devitsa is a transliteration from the word ‘девица’. It’s not well translatable but means something along the lines of maiden, mistress, damsel, maid or lady. Here, it is used like an honour title but like all honour titles the word Devitsa can and is used ironically. Nowadays in spoken contexts

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sunghanne · 1 year ago

Text

STAR RACER － ENHYPEN GREASE AU SERIES | PART 4 🚦

racer!enhypen & flaggirl!reader

PARTS: PROLOGUE, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, coming soon...

TITLE: ST★R-RACER : PART 4. THE RUMBLE.

feat. ENHYPEN, TXT, STRAY KIDS?!

PLOT: in a small town during the 1950s, seems the only thing keeping careless teenagers entertained are drag races where only the elite participate. and those elite are known as star racers.

WARNINGS: ooc idols, sexual innuendos, light sexual content, strong language, violence, mild slutshaming, illegal acts, cat calling, sleezy teenagers, tba...

TAGLIST: @lalalalawon , @strvlveera , @kjrcrz comment your @/user to be added!

WORD-COUNT: 10.0k

NOTE: im so sorry this part took so long to write. i burn out easily and ideas were not filling my head. this is my first big series so it is a bit difficult to amount to the number of words each chapter has. but thank you for waiting and i hope you enjoy this long special! i apologise for any typos, its hard to proof read at the moment. likes, reposts and comments are all heavily appreciated, thank you.

your attention has placed the road ahead of you, memorising the familiar landscape as the one you drove past in the evening with yeonjun. from the asphalt road to the street lamps and to the traffic lights, everything was much brighter and clearer this time around. likely due to your vision not being clouded by the raven night sky, or perhaps the regret and guilt tainting your perception of your surroundings that unforgettable night.

"well, i'm not worried. he can have a cow, won't change the fact his turf's in a rut too," you calmly replied while adjusting the collar of your white short-sleeved blouse. a light grin on jake's face humoured your determined attitude, bright eyes laying on your reflection from the rearview mirror.

"you kill me sometimes," your male counterpart complimented before refocusing his attention on the next corner he swerved past. you beamed at his sweet comment, gulping your real intentions down your dry throat. in reality, you were worried. about yeonjun, about going to an unfamiliar school, about heeseung.

definition:'kill'. > to impress.

to even consider the plan of attempting to pact with the clique from the other side of the town meant you were desperate. you yearned to snatch jake's steering wheel and go back the way you came from because an uneasy bundle in your stomach untangled and started to reach every vessel in your body. you thought the pressure of the rumble would ease overnight but instead, it got worse.

someone could end up in the hospital, even inadequately considering the possibility of ending up outnumbered due to the uncertain chance of recruiting yeonjun's crew. so even though you hated it, you had to get the boy on your side, for your friends' sake.

last night's image of riki's untamed berating and thrashing out of sunghoon and jake's grasp was hard to shake off he had never gotten so worked up about another person before. you didn't want to see him in that state again.

the number of stores on the street gradually decreased, replaced by dense trees and bramble bushes, a sign you were nearing the school. "what a load of nerds," jake poked fun at herds of students clad in blazers, jerseys, plaid patterned pants and skirts and the tall rhubarb brick building fenced by tall black metal fencing. it was like some impenetrable fortress with a long moat surrounding it, except it wasn't. it was simply unlike your school. your school was the complete opposite with nothing more but a twisty metal fence surrounding it. students would occasionally hop over the fences just to go get better lunch food or skip unwanted classes, you included.

your eyebrows gradually lifted at the realisation that you hadn't even tackled the first crisis yet, the overbearing fence, "crap," your curse placed under your breath while jake steered into the disbursed car park and came to a gentle halt, not eager to bring unsolicited attention to your arrival. he made sure to park behind a wide tree that's long branches with lax leaves that almost reached the roots on his head.

he quietly wolf-whistled at the amusing sight, taking in the complication you already situated yourself with. you reluctantly revolved your head towards the male beside you in slow motion to find his gaze. and with a suspecting smirk on his face, he inquired you about his nifty scheme.

his hurried hands grasped his elbows as he held his folded forearms in front of him, crouching in an uncomfortable position with knees pressed into the hard pavement.

the corners of your mouth spread outwards as your molars clamped down on one another, too focused on aiming the sole of your shoe on jake's makeshift stepping stool to notice the strain on your jaw.

he huffed out upon your weight's arrival, his arms wavering for a split second before he jolted the platform made with his arms up into the air. you took the sudden elevation as a chance to hold on to the cold metal railings of the fence, concentrating as your wide skirt bunched in the air. with a rigid rattle, you regulated your balance as jake's arms steadied you on top of him.

a gasp of relief vacated your chest as your clenched jaw could relax as your successful stepping stool plan worked. "s'nice view," jake's crude comment blasted below your lengthy skirt and your wide eyes bolted to the male whose head was tilted upwards for anything but the sky. there was only one place his eyes landed upon.

"cut the gas, sim!" you screeched loudly and intentionally kicked the white tip of your sneaker in the male's susceptible nose. he yelped out in pain, eyes squeezing shut while his arms awfully loosened. a mean laugh left your lips in satisfaction while taking the distorted balance as an opportunity to release your foot off of his platform and onto the top of the horizontal railing slab. then, you applied all your weight on the singular foot and extended the rest of your body upwards and over the fence. yet, your landing wasn't as straightforward as the journey over it and you ended up with one of your knees shoved into the damp grass of the school campus.

your partner in crime was rubbing his throbbing red nose after your hostile jab at it, despite him knowingly deserving it. one of his brown eyes opened to peek at your safe drop on the other side of the fence, "sorry. 45 minutes, y/n. js'call out for me if you need," he called out while the hem of your skirt returned around your knees after the velocity of the drop concluded. you were hunched over, a hand dusting your dirt-stamped kneecap that had follicles of grass glued to it.

"i know. don't think i'll need the help of a little boy who can't keep his eyes out of the gutter," you mocked his ogling and spun on your heel away from the car park and the familiar individual with it. jake, the boy who couldn't stand being crowded by girls, confidently announcing the esteem of seeing up your skirt was a bold move. little does he know the minor injury to his nose would be met tenfold by the time you bust out of this unfamiliar school.

45 minutes. all the time you had at your disposal. 45 minutes was the duration of lunch and you needed to be in and out of yeonjun's school as quickly as you could. of course, some constraints were weighing you down other than the time frame. and that was yeonjun's compliance.

it was safe to assume the male you threw a drink at two weeks ago would most likely refuse your proposition. neither did you know the layout of the school and whether the teachers on guard would kick you out upon your arrival. so you had to be equally alert.

you strode forward towards the towering building with the large cross logo built in the middle, a slight increase in heartbeat by the countless pairs of eyes locked onto your unknown self. you could only pray that no tattle tail would report on the girl who just leapt over the fences, breaking precisely why they were implemented. it was lunchtime at this school as well and cliques separated from one another sitting on the field or at lunch tables made you realise just how difficult carrying out this secretive mission of yours would be.

by secretive, only you and jake knew of it. hence the reason he was chauffeuring you to the other side of town and missing out on whatever lunch menu was on at your cafeteria. quite the feat, you thought.

after passing a few outdoor pillars by the side of the main building, you found the lunch block that remained outdoors. girls with rolled-up plaid skirts sat on the collection of bleachers by the soccer pitch in the distance to your right side, indulging in minuscule amounts of cafeteria lunches and the meals running across the soccer field. a mixed handful of preps sat along benches and or on the concrete-covered floors under the shade of the freshly painted veranda to your left. yet, from both ears you could hear the endless pour of gossip about your appearance surface. "that's the chick that went home with choi a couple'a nights back."

your focus on the defaming vocal of opinions suddenly terminated when a large, warm hand on your shoulder cuffed itself around you. your shaken eyes found themselves settled on a face you could put to a name. soobin. "aren't you lost, choi?" his deep voice questioned and a small curl of his lip caught your attention, face inches apart from yours. the hunch in his back signalled he was leaning over your head to meet your eyes from behind. you were speechless, not expecting a target to reveal themselves so easily.

the tall male raised an eyebrow in curiosity at your brief quiet demeanour, standing upright. only at that moment did you realise how much the male towered over you and it caused you to blink profusely out of intimidation. he wore a grey blazer with his school's emblem on it in contrast to the heavy dark jacket he was wearing at the race tracks. you licked your dry pink lips and swiped his hand off your shoulder discretely, "reason you callin' me choi?" you questioned lowly while he towed his hand to his side, shaking it off like it were wet.

"well, you are yeonjun's missus. ain'tcha?" he chirped while his lips protruded outwards and his cheeks huffed meanwhile. your eyebrows dipped low and a side of your lips lifted in a sneer like you'd stepped in rubbish. to even think of the said male as a spouse sounded like a nightmare. yeonjun must have been spreading misinformation around his turf, and a side task was unexpectedly placed upon you.

to prove him wrong.

"that's not true. i think i'd much rather be called my name," you seethed tediously with squinted eyes directly align with the male. he cocked his head to the side in wonder, trying to piece together whether you were joking or not.

"it's not? he was tellin' people you're round heels," he began to chuckle lightly and your hands balled tightly into fists. your yeonjun accusation stood correct. a flare of embarrassment sparked on your face in a blaze at such wording used on you. you groaned in irritation at such cunning stirs and trudged forward, bumping into soobin deliberately to tilt him backwards.

definition:'round heels'. > an easy girl, heels rounded for easy tipping onto a bed.

he staggered for a brief moment before regaining his balance and following behind your careless actions, half amused and half confused. "oh, choi is dead meat," you grumbled while stomping your feet into the lavish grass and heading towards the veranda. meeting numerous gazes of students who sat underneath it, you pondered why they were so judgemental. at first, you thought it was because of yeonjun's rumours, but when your head craned behind, you realised it was because of soobin trailing inches apart from you. it was so unsettling the shift in appearances of the boy who was once chasing after you and sunghoon on a friday night.

soobin was a renowned racer and the students either loved him or hated him, no in between. it wasn't hard to miss the only individual sporting black leather threads and tight blue denim amongst a crowd that didn't. it made you wonder how he even got into such a school in the first place. maybe his parents were filthy rich and threw him into such a populace with the intent to 'right his wrongs'. then they probably explained to the headmaster that 'he's just a boy, he doesn't know any better' when he set the science lab on fire, or something.

nonetheless, his reoccurrence made a palm slap against your face in annoyance, dragging your hand down in disarray, "if you're here to court me, hit the road," you complained while turning around for a brief moment and he shone a crooked smile at your notice of his presence.

"why, but you're a firecracker to tease," he jabbed while quickening the pace of his long legs and catching up to you, now side by side. your angry hands pressed onto the male's chest, trying to shove him away only for the male to lean all of his weight atop of you. the heavy force had your steps reversing and reluctantly, you backed against a hard brick wall. you grit your teeth anxiously, eyes glaring into his as the top of his head was against the vacant wall space above yours. "settle, doll face. if you wanted to get your hands on me so bad y'could've just asked."

his shower of flirts repulsed you and your head turned away at such compact contact, hands still driven against his chest as his torso didn't budge even when you started to hook your nails into it.

by the intimate distance, his cologne almost suffocated you, whisked with the scent of tobacco. his bold actions made your head spin and worst of all, everyone's eyes were on you. your hot face combusted with his warm breath, like waving a fan in front of flames.

"get off of me, rag!" you argued with an increase of pressure you placed on him. the corner of his lips cocked upwards and you eventually broke through his overbearing cave. you staggered forward drunkenly, feet pivoting away from the male as he toppled backwards for a split second. you briskly padded away, slapping two of your palms over your soiled burning cheeks.

"he was lyin', clearly," soobin chuckled breathlessly while resuming his follow on your whereabouts. honestly, if he pulled that trick on any other girl you were certain he'd be rejected just the same.

"lay off. if you're not going to help me find choi then you can waste someone elses," you retaliated and pressed the crease out of your white skirt. you hated that his cologne was now rubbed off of you and the scent didn't leave even after you shook out every article of your clothing like you were dusting them off.

"whats the occasion?" he questioned and licked his lips out of habit, loud footsteps echoing yours and acting all innocent like he wasn't pulling that stunt a minute ago, "i can."

"get on with it," you ordered through an eye-roll and endured the painful trip towards yeonjun's whereabouts. the sunlight appeared and disappeared on soobin's face as pillars blocked fragments of light each time you passed one, "i'll tell you when we find the guy."

"if it's another necking, i'd be more than happy to offer my services," he teased and swayed his body closer to yours, almost causing you to crash right into him. you cursed under your breath and pushed the boy away aggressively. you were starting to reconsider whether the problem with your plan was soobin's irritating antics or yeonjun.

definition:'necking'. > make out.

"another? we never did. in fact, he hadn't even laid a hand on me before he was pullin' out," you lied thickly but you didn't care. if it were an opportunity to humiliate the male, you didn't need to be asked twice. soobin's head was thrown back as a chain of laughs sprouted out of him at the correction.

"no snow job," the male teased while shaking his head after his high of laughter disbursed. the edge of the concrete veranda was nearing and soobin took the initiative to pass a corner, leading you towards an area that was much more secluded with taller brick walls. you were a little proud of your fake tales, even more at the reaction of the other male who didn't doubt it one bit. to be honest, you were over the whole situation. the bad date, the manipulative language used on you and the oil spill on heeseung.

well, partly over that last part. but with other concerns shadowing it, it was forced to the back of your cluttered mind. similar to the oversized blazer thrown around your sides and forced over your arms a moment ago. your arms weighed heavily at the large article of clothing and you cluelessly stared at soobin as he held your shoulders gently, only the tips of his fingers against you.

"lid on," he shushed you carefully and lead you in the correct direction, his head only focused on the individual walking past. an old lady, likely in her late 50s, wore sleek red glasses pressed to her face and a tight, knee-length pencil skirt that made her strut look funny. a teacher, a very intimidating looking one at that. she had a returning stern gaze over soobin and her wrinkly lipstick-chapped lips pursed in dismay. your shoulders were hunched like a box, from the tension in the air, or perhaps the heavy jacket over the top of you.

you weren't looking at the teacher, but when her echoing footsteps lowered in volume, you let out a sigh of relief from your chest, shoulders relaxing. the male took his hands off the top of your shoulder blades and left his warm blazer around you, only looking down at you with his dark irises.

"what was that for?" you questioned with a low whisper as if the teacher had super hearing and would've heard you if your voice was amplified another decimal. while adjusting his lengthy grey blazer around you comfortably, soobin shone a quick grin and rubbed an index finger along his smooth philtrum.

"disguise. that broad is the principal. if you weren't in uniform she'dve rocked you," he answered while playing with the hem of the white t-shirt he now resided in. your head tilted at his quick wits and perhaps you'd taken him lesser than he first ought to be.

"well, gentleman," you chirped and the boy licked his lips at the nickname, eyes shaped like crescents merrily. the walk resumed without anymore hindrance, only small talk between you and the tall boy who happened to let down his guard. finally, you came in contact with two large wooden doors at the end of the hallway. you bit on your lip, head checking up to soobin's for a split moment for confirmation. and by the light nod of his head, you padded forward and pushed the pair of doors open with two spread arms.

bright white headlights flashed in the dark ambience and heeseung's hand propped in front of his eyes to shield them from the blinding clash. he was sitting on the alleyway ground, forearms draped over his knees and his fond jacket across his spacious lap.

the bright light illuminated the entire alleyway and heeseung could see from his peripherals just how easily his position was given away by the brick walls of the alleyway lighted. alerted, he peeked through the gaps of his long fingers and cursed out at the reckless decision the other boy made to keep the headlights of his ride turned on. although, that angered fire in him snuffed out when his gaze landed on the longing face of his friend, jay.

the appearance of the younger boy was like a flashback to heeseung. it had been so long with zero contact with one another, it could've easily been another one of his daydreams. but, jay heeded to his call like the loyal service he was.

heeseung stood up straight as the engine of the car halted and the light vibration of the vehicle froze, headlights clicking off like a tv pulled at the plug. he dusted himself off, carefully padding towards the suspecting vehicle and walking along the exterior to the passenger's seat, taking light steps on the coarse rubble foundation.

the silence in the air grew as he opened the passenger seat and inclined his slim frame inside, settling on the vacant seat. no words were exchanged between him and the other male, only the turn of jay's head and the tilt of his sunglasses while he scanned heeseung's appearance like some judge.

"jay," heeseung greeted, nodding his head and keeping a straight face with a raspy voice. the male in question tilted his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, a smug grin on his face.

"heeseung," he responded cooly, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as if it were a normal interaction between the two. nonchalant before the aggressive tug on his shoulders yanked him forward into heeseung's warm embrace. jay's sunglasses tilted crookedly as his face smashed against heeseung's ear, returning the tight hug tenderly.

"you idiot! what's this get up? forgettin' your honorifics and wearin' sunglasses in the middle of the night?" a long, gleeful laugh left heeseung's throat. he hadn't laughed like this in ages. the strong hug came to an end as heeseung disengaged and scanned jay's awfully misplaced glasses. jay bit back a hearty smile, pleased his little gag with sunglasses made the other laugh. he ran his long fingers through his black locks and whisked his head back as though he were in a photo shoot.

"well, y'know. work," he replied, still piling onto the joke. heeseung shook his head, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead after his eventful night of running from the fuzz. jay flicked his sunglasses above his hairline, not being able to see anything in the dark with them on anyway. now able to see clearly, he didn't miss the mass amounts of cash splayed all over heeseung's dirty coveralls, "dude?"

heeseung's orbs traced jay's gaze and peered down at his own body, realising the male was flabbergasted at more than just his arrival. he bit back a proud grin and dug a dirty hand into his side pockets only to return with a handful of papers between his clutches, "dude," he replied and jay's raised eyebrows lowered to a normal slate, realising heeseung's act was true.

"the fuck did i miss?" his counterpart questioned as me of his palms pressed against his sweaty forehead, colliding with his tilted sunglasses unintentionally.

the older male returned the cash to it's rightful place in his pocket and kept that same smile splayed across his cheeks, "robbed this old man's register when he wasn't lookin'. don't worry, i kicked the bucket right after," his remark held no remorse for his criminal act and instead acted as if he were bragging.

a half scoff half laugh left jay's lips and he looked off the to side like heeseung had spoken a terrible joke, "y'crazy, hyung," he remarked whilst a hand kept itself on his leather steering wheel. the elder began to undo the upper clasped buttons of his coveralls and slid the thick navy material off his shoulders, typing the sleeves across his waist in a bulbous knot. he returned his beloved race jacket around him and leaned forward with a finger playing with the sweaty black strands of his hair whilst scanning himself in the rear view mirror.

jay was watching silently, amused by the sudden interest of appearances, "gonna need more than a pampering, y'stinkin' up my chariot. who y'trying to impress anyway?" he questioned next.

"...nobody in particular, park," heeseung cheesed with a flashy reply, adding the finishing touches to his hair and sitting back in his car seat with a satisfied nod.

"not fallin' for that snow job," the other retorted whilst continuing to view heeseung's conflicting mannerisms, "'ts y/n, ain't it?"

there was a cascade of silence that laid the car, only the sound of cars driving meters from the alleyway entrance roaring past. until jay opened his mouth once more, "she'd been down in the dumps since you left," his dark eyes faced forward, tracing the terracotta brick wall heeseung once leaned upon previously, "everybody. jungwon, sunoo, hoon, jake, riki 'nd y/n. we all been bugged. just constant losses-i mean did you know that kid sunoo dropped outta school 'cause he lost a bet on your last race?"

jay's calm tangent caused heeseung's eyebrows to raise slightly. he knew there would be consequences to his careless disappearance, but nothing of this calibre. heeseung wasn't a dickhead like the other greasers you'd categorise him with. he was the eldest of the clique and brought a sense of meaning to that label with reason. and, he definitely knew when he should be held accountable for up and leaving as though that selected group meant nothing to him but a mere memory.

jay's vent furthered, "guess that saying that goes 'you never know what y'got 'til its gone' is true," his vision returned to his eldest and the black haired disheveled individual had his brows real upturned this time, mouth parted slightly in surprise at the sincerity of his pride smitten companion. the boy in question was flustered at the non-responsive behaviour of heeseung and cleared his throat while looking off to the side.

lee simply shook his head, placing a hand on the awkward male and nodded in acknowledgment, "yeah, man. guess i got a few apologies to make," he answered whilst lifting a palm off his friend and instead returning them to his jacket to fully zip it up as the cold night breeze bristled the hairs on his head.

jay tilted his head slightly forward in response, taking the cold wind as a sign that solidified that heeseung wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. now, there was only the future to look forward to-and a group of assholes to prove himself to. the car engine started once more and the automobile began to reverse from the dark alleyway.

a cold curious hand dug into the front pockets of his jacket, only to brush past a crisp wad of paper. heeseung brimmed with confusion for a brief moment as he lifted the paper out of his pocket and held it in front of his eyes. with a squint, he realised it was a collection of numbers written with pencil. heeseung's eyes narrowed further in suspicion, only one person had access to his clothing and he drew a straight line to the culprit.

"y'good?" jay asked to break the sudden silence and the other male immediately crumpled the paper between his fingers and flicked it behind him.

"yeah, keeno," lee nonchalantly responded while jay had fully backed out of the dim alleyway, only now waiting for several cars to pass so he had a clear entrance.

"i got a plan to get you outta juvi," the other appeased with an anticipating grin on his face. the loud screech of tires burned against the asphalt ground as jay forced himself to break a brigade of cars, earning a few ear-piercing honks from other drivers.

heeseung's head was turned towards the rear end of the car, an astonished smile on his face, "surprised y'haven't lost your license yet. shoot," he encouraged the other's question.

jay clicked his tongue at hee's snarky comment and drove towards the direction of a gas station that's bright neon sign was spotted miles away, "dyeing ya 'do," the dark haired male explained while his eyes flicked towards heeseung's raven locks.

the male in question reluctantly lifted a hand to palm the side of his hair, lips pursing in uncertainty, "fracture me, will you? there ain't no way in hell you're touching my hair," heeseung refused almost immediately.

definition:' fracture'. > amuse me.

"'ts either you sportin' a new color, or spending the rest'a senior year with the fuzz," jay reasoned while shaking his head in disapproval. personally, he thought his plan was well thought out and a good cover for his criminal of a friend.

"ain't that a bite, park. think they got ciggies in jail?" the other sighed out while repositioning himself in jay's vehicle, long legs outspread lazily whilst his torso pushed upwards so his head could stay upright.

"get with it, hyung! y'know how hard it's boutta be when you return to school with a felon on y'head?" jay continued while heeseung closed his eyes stubbornly.

"you watch too many damn flicks," he laughed out while jay hadn't changed direction towards the servo at all. it'd take a lot of convincing for heeseung to agree, but jay just couldn't let go of his marvellous idea. and yes, he'd suppose he watched too many movies.

right in front of you were none other but the pack of greasers leaning on bleachers with their thumbs flipped over of their pockets while their other four digits tucked into their skinny jeans. one individual, in particular with their back turned from you had a long hand pressed on the wall that a shorter girl leaned against. the familiar curls of his brunette hair were hard to discard from your memory, so much so that you hesitated to step any closer.

if it weren't for taehyun's quick tap of yeonjun's shoulder, the male would've never turned his head to notice your presence. at first, his foxy eyes were pried in surprise before they relaxed and a cocky smirk replaced his ajar mouth, "i knew you'd be back for more, cherry," he cooed and unhooked his hand from the wall pressed beside his female companion and stood up straight, smug look unwavering.

soobin left your side and travelled up the bleachers to meet his clique, long legs used to skip past two bleachers at a time. he exchanged a hand shake with yeonjun briefly, tugging in the male and dabbing his shoulder before pulling away and settling on the cold spot beside beomgyu. now, only you resided alone as a group of five looked down at you like a feeble insect.

"back for more? more of what?" you spat with raised eyebrows, almost holding back a fake laugh at his outpour if confidence like the night between you two had gone well.

"why, don't act coy. i know you miss me," yeonjun tutted while digging his hands into his pockets, shoulders relaxing as your expression crumbled in agony.

"oh get bent, choi. i'm not here to relive the terrors of friday night," you answered in determination, hands fisting the heavy blazer over your shoulder's you'd almost forgotten soobin left on you. the four other men murmured between each other, one of them patting yeonjun on the shoulder and causing him to stumble forwards slightly.

his calloused hand brushed off the previous spot the hand had touched him and he glared towards the boy in annoyance, "well then, clue me," yeonjun responded while his legs began to extend forward and step down each bleacher seat with a hop in his steps.

you inhaled sharply, watching as yeonjun proceeded to step unwarrantedly close to you with the tip of his shoes nearly budding into yours, "your turf's being threatened by those... stray animals from the next town over, y'know those ones?" you answered with a hesitation as you described the male group in question. yeonjun's lips pouted, an eyebrow crossing in confusion from your unreliable outpour.

"name 'em. i don't know who they are," he demanded while turning his head left so his ear protruded towards you closest. your teeth grit in irritation at his actions potentially mocking you and the sliver of power your position gave away. a girl, left alone in a school full of random people, in front of her sworn enemy.

"felix, hyunjin, chan, those lookers," your eyes decimated off to the side as you recalled a few of their aliases. the boy in front of you rubbed his chin in thought, still missing a few details.

"yeah, them freamers," yeonjun parroted before throwing his head back to repeat the message to his lackeys up on the bleachers. a couple of their faces screwed, a little complacent with their cooperation. you bit down on the insides of your mouth, kneading the soft flesh as a way to pass time as no straight answer was given from the other party.

"listen, uh, we lost star racer to them and since riki struck at them first, they wanna rumble with us," your anecdote retained uncertainty yet you wanted to persevere confidently.

two front teeth bit down on the right side of the boy's bottom lip, biting back an unconvinced smile, "that ankle-biter ought to have at it. well, what exactly would we get out of it?" yeonjun asked with a deliberate whining tone towards the end of his sentence.

"you kiddin'? we're stuck in the mud for your turf and you want something out of it?" you scoffed with narrowed eyes.

"do you's really need us?" his hands outstretched in front of him as his shoulders shrugged, faking unconvinced, "sounds like we should just let em' bash ya' and clean up the mess after."

your eyebrows creased for a split second, eyes strictly trained on your counterpart's imposing face, "your turf won't be lost, you get a good swing on those douchebags and..." your volume lowered while thinking of your next proposition. until yeonjun finished your suggestions for you.

"—how 'bout a proper date. a good one that might end with something else gettin' damp, i'd rather," his condescending voice stifled a laugh at his dirty innuendo. the pack on the bleachers seemed to mirror his reaction, yet they were encouraging.

"another fake out?" your face screwed while weighing the odds. did you really need these guys as backup? the chances of succeeding did increase if they were to defend their own turf. for pete's sake, was defending their own side of the town mean nothing if they didn't get a piece of you out of it? you knew bets never ended well, you knew very well.

but there was an undiscovered surge of eagerness that anticipated you.

yeonjun's head lifted and lowered slowly, nodding for you to continue. your tart fingers bore creases in the oversized jacket slung over your shoulders as you finally responded, "no. see, i don't usually settle for sloppy seconds," you replied while your eyes peered behind his broad shoulder. specifically at the girl leaning against the brick wall with her arms crossed, burning holes into your frame by her stare.

the male whipped his around for a split second before turning back to you with a hand plastered on the back of his warm neck, "that broad's jus'ta rebound. we get comfy, don't we?" he attempted to convince yet this time with a softer voice, most likely lowered so the men behind him couldn't hear his pompous attempt to sway you.

"i am anything but comfy 'round you. y'know, its fine. we should just back outta this rumble and allow them to take your turf. you've already won, haven't you?" your eyes scaled upwards to the ceiling, checking off an imaginary list in your head, "you've got heeseung's car, you've got star racer, you've got my friends leaving one after another," an uninterested frown grew on your face as your hands outspread outwards in pretend surrender, "i don't see why we should hold onto our pride if someone's already fucked us over, really."

yeonjun's eyebrows raised while he listened to your lost hope, quite unsure of how to appear. his eyes travelled from your long skirt, to your tucked in blouse and even to the stilled palms on display, "so you finally wanna admit we're better than you's?"

"sure, choi," you replied unenthusiastically.

he swiped his tongue on his bottom lip in thought, knowing there were only two ways your encounter could go, "you pushin' the right buttons if thats your goal. but, what do y'mean your goons are leaving one after another?"

his question brought your eyebrows to skyrocket that he was even concerned with the status of your group. one of your palms pressed against your wrist, rubbing it uncomfortably as if there were a stain lingering against it, "...yea. heeseung's gone, jay's on a vacay, sunoo's dropped out. i know you don't care but i guess that's why we need your clique," your voice softened as you opened up to the boy for the first time.

yeonjun's head rotated around to face his group to view if they heard the same thing and there was a sinister smile plastered to his face as he faced you once again, "was wonderin' why i hadn't heard of lee in a while. i'd say too bad, but if that greaser was here you wouldn't be pleadin' to me."

the boy's apparition earned a tilt of your head, slightly confused by his wording, "you lay off. i wasn't pleading, just playing messenger," you argued back. suddenly you remembered the time frame you should have cohered to and flicked down to the boy's cuff of his jacket to see if he was wearing a watch, "what's the time?"

choi blinked a number of times before he brought his hand to run through his hair while bringing his wrist into view. he flicked his sleeve's cuff back while squinting his eyes, actually confining to your request without a fuss for the first time, "it's 1:20, dolly."

you mentally cursed while your feet paced back and forth for a second, only 10 minutes left of lunchtime and to be back at your side of town. there wasn't anymore time to talk so you grasped onto the oversized jacket around your shoulders before quickly spurting out, "it's tonight, same time and place as the races. if you don't show up, tell soobin to kiss his sweet jacket goodbye!" you skimmed through the details with a gleeful laugh leaving your lips.

ignoring the calls and requests behind you, you pivoted back towards the gymnasium doors and hurriedly shoved them apart to make way for your triumphant exit.

you had a clue that yeonjun's clique wouldn't back out of such a contest, especially after you had practically kissed their asses for participation. but regardless of how it occurred,

'snob high' was officially on your side.

the ruptured footsteps of heeseung's converses padded against the white floor of the gas station while his dark eyes analysed the shelving surrounding him. jay was leading him through the limited beauty section of the store, an anticipating smirk of mischief coating one side of his face to the other.

"tellin' ya, give it a chance," jay persuaded whilst one of his hands extended forward to pick up a box of hair dye, an extremely vibrant blue. the eldest boy's eyebrows furrowed, one side of his face hit by the cold toned lighting of the shop. his calloused hands dug into the blue coverall bottom pockets he retained in that's sleeves were still tied around his waist.

"freakin' blue? you tickle me, ha-ha-ha..." the pompous fake laughs excavated heeseung's lips like a robot, not swayed at all.

jay scoffed comically, pursing his lips together to puff the black tuffs of his fringe upwards and out of his eyes. the spikes lay flat back against his tan forehead while he returned the blue box dye and picked up a new one. this one having another vibrant colour and a hair model with the phoniest white smile hee had ever seen.

he slowly craned his head to heeseung who returned the dramatic head turn back before breaking out into an immediate head shake of refusal.

"it was me who picked y'up. do this as a reward to pay me back?" jay bargained with a low snicker.

heeseung didn't want to, of course. not with such a bizarre colour as that. if anything, he wanted to reach out and slam jay's idiotic face into the shelves and collapse every other hair dye box on display with him. but instead he sighed, eyes training on the front design as one of his hands slid down his chest and to a pocket of cash he'd tucked away.

"beat feet, 'fore i change my mind."

tonight was the night. the rumble. the dawning wind blew in your hair as sunghoon steered his roofless car in the direction of the race track. the breeze contorted your hair in all sorts of swiped arrays yet your face stayed stone-still. your eyebrows creased with a firm line shaping your lips. not even the loud roar of music from hoon's aux crossed your mind besides worry.

what if yeonjun and his squad were tellin' fibs just to get a rouse outta you. and if they did show up, theres no telling if all the other boy's would react kindly to their arrival either. you didn't exactly tell them your plan of inviting snob high affiliated other than jake.

it was the six of you, riki, jungwon, sunoo, sunghoon and jake all crammed inside sunghoon's five seater leading to riki being the one on the carpet flooring by your feet. he leaned his tall back against a car door, his neck hindered by the bottom cup holders on the door's inside.

he fought against it at first, of course, but sunghoon told him to suck it up or be left behind because he was clearly still in a bad mood from yesterday. you sat between jungwon and sunoo who were oddly silent while facing the nighttime scenery bleakly whipping past. the entire car ride was silent, all of you knowing the uprising tension to unfold moments ahead.

there it was. the loud bass of music coming from the dried dam's surface that the sloped concrete walls hid from eye view. sunghoon's dark eyes flicked to his rear view mirror for a split second before he veered forward on his pedal and down a slope to meet with the very source of sound. the enemies.

as the group of brute men unfolded in view as your ride came to a screeching halt that was overshadowed by the loud cooing and hoots of bangchan's clique.

"lookie 'ere!" one of their brash voices called out, earning a curdle of your nose in return.

your vision focused on felix who was leaning against the bright blue automobile with a cigarette between two fingers, only snapping out of your unintentional selected vision by the aggravated slams of car doors.

"c'mon y/n, hop out so i can get out too," riki ushered, the first time he'd spoken from the entire car ride. one of his hands placed itself on the driver seat's head, nails digging into the beige leather. you bit down on your bottom lip, clicking open the car door on your left and hopping out of the automobile.

riki followed suit, not leaving through the car door but instead manoeuvring himself in the air and jumping over the other closed side. everyone was already standing around hoon's car, glaring off the mugs across from them.

the tall blonde stood inches from sunghoon who was the closest to the 'stray boys'. clearly he wanted to display no fret the other side exuded since it was basically his fault this rumble was occurring in the first place. jeongin could tell immediately and silently stepped forward as well, his braces shining as his lips parted.

"if it isn't rik-dog, the candy ass," the brunette of the other side taunted, eyes shooting straight to riki who clenched his teeth immediately at the name call.

"and cookin', ain't i? train-tracks," riki ridiculed back, earning a quiet coo from sunoo who couldn't contain his satire encouragement and resulted in an elbow in his ribs by jungwon who knew it wasn't the time for such antics. your white sneakers tapped against the pavement as you situated yourself beside jake who was positioned behind the gap sunghoon and riki had between them.

definition:'cook' or 'cookin''. > doing it/well.

jeongin sputtered, brown eyes glancing towards your appearing figure instead. his gaze flicked up and down your frame before turning back at riki, "i see your classy chassis can still only clothe in her mother's clothes. she ain't been popped yet by you's, has she?" his uncalled insult targeted at you instantly drew a frown on riki's face.

his sick innuendo mixed with the unnecessary comment at your clad attire brought irritation in your veins. but honestly, you had only worn long skirts and blouses since heeseung went missing as well as refusing to be flag girl at race events simply because you weren't comfortable anymore. yet before he could respond, you did, "if we talking mother's i'd assume the only thing popped is your mother loaded before she had you."

definition:'loaded'. > drunk.

jeongin's braces disappeared after that, hiding behind a dropped smile as his lips curved downwards in an outraged pause. jake's giggle rumbled from his throat, unable to stifle it in time and attracted everyone's attention.

"something real funny, huh, sim?" one of the boy's you wouldn't be able to recognise questioned and jake lifted a hand to quickly cover his unserious smile that had arose.

"you lay off now. how 'bout we stop throwing insults and get started in the race," jake began while his hand collapsed from his face and revealed his still toothy smile.

"get on with it," hyunjin gruffly hasted and suddenly began to walk around to the driver's seat of the blue car.

"finally, some fuckin' action," sunghoon boldly responded in the second hyunjin entered his vehicle, mirroring his actions whilst everyone around the car migrated off the side.

"countdown!" one of the slack hooligan's hooted as a countdown of three began. your head was buzzing. events were happening too quickly and yeonjun hadn't even arrived yet. you didn't want him. you just needed him. eyes screwing shut, all you could do was pray for a moment that god was on your side.

but the roaring of engines filled your ears instead.

perhaps things could never go according to plan. you were already quite familiar with that concept. as your eyes pried open as the chatter in the air heightened, you didn't meet with the rear of sunghoon's car. his vehicle was still in place, along with hyunjin's.

it wasn't their revving cars taking off. your brows lifted gently at the realisation it was heeseung's car. except, he wasn't in it, of course. it was yeonjun. the chestnut haired male attracted the attention of everyone, his face contorting into a smug grin.

"what the hell are they doing here...?" you heard jungwon whisper beneath his breath while watching the boy in question kick open his car door. yeonjun's dark derby's trod out from his vehicle while his hands swiped against one another-almost as if he were wiping dust from them.

"well, ain't this a lumpy time to make the scene," familiar foxy eyes danced across the array of people in front of him, all standing in an imperfect line behind the two cars anticipating a race.

definition:'lumpy'. > mediocre.

definition: 'make the scene'. > attend an event/activity.

there was an uproar of confusion and questions creating scores in the air, people from you and bangchan's clique all turning to one another. your white soles collided with the pavement as you stepped forward, "didn't haul ass to get here, did you's?" a stifled laugh erupted in your throat while you eyed the group of five standing around choi's car.

"be grateful we's even showed up, cherry," yeonjun replied with a lower in his tone yet his grin retained on his face. you rolled your eyes in mock annoyance, placing them back on the group beside yours.

"is this every freamer you've kissed together, y/n?" one of the oppositions mocked, a reaction of laughter leeching off of his words. you frowned, hands balling into fists as you stared the boy down.

"y'keepin' count of the amount of boys being kissed wouldn'tya, han?" yeonjun butt in, the sound of a lighter flicking coming from his direction. oddly enough, the boys standing near you stifled laughs at yeonjun's remark. sunghoon's silver hair resembled the moonlight as he whipped his behind around to face us, his dark browns stern.

"explain what these germs are doin' here?" he rasped out, his neck in an uncomfortable twist from his position. jake's head immediately turned to you as you ushered out a curse at the oblivious male's action.

soobin's eyes trained on you with a squint, one side of his lips lifting into an intrigued smile. an uneasy lump in your throat swallowed down, "i invited them. like you said, we were outnumbered," you explained to the puzzled boy.

"yeah well, what'll ya do?" sunghoon raised another question, taking his smoke from his pink lips and tapping it on the edge of his car door, ashes falling to the ground by the gentle force, "i sure don't see any bottles of car oil in y'boot."

the obvious jab towards the oppositions group's wrongdoings towards heeseung altercated the tension in the air. yeonjun extended a leg forward, head cocking towards the side in amusement as he stepped towards sunghoon's idle position.

"you wanna find out, park?" the brunette rhetorically asked, approaching the right door of sunghoon's ride.

"bite-me," sunghoon grit through the fangs of his teeth, lifting his cigarette between two flexed fingers. then, he flicked the lit stick right between yeonjun's eyes, causing the male to abruptly duck forward and grab him by the collar with screwed eyes.

jake and riki were already jumping forward to engage in whatever hand's on experience they could get. soobin, beomgyu, hueningkai and taehyun followed suit, getting into an unnecessary scuffle.

you wanted to face palm at the failure to cooperate between both sides that were originally supposed to bind together.

"we're not supposed to fight you duds, we're on the same side! gods sake, they're like animals," sunoo attempted to persuade, his yells falling flat along with both his palms that he placed on both sides of his mouth.

one of your ears filled with howls of laughter from the sleazy guys you were originally supposed to fight. bangchan was hunched over, slapping his knee while jeongin was pointing and laughing. along with a scrunch in hyunjin's face from the embarrassing display.

you wished jay were here right now. if it were him, he wouldn't let some petty distraction disrupt the goal at hand. you knew that no matter who won between sunghoon and yeonjun, the hooligans would just clean up afterwards and win the turf.

"sunoo, you actually got those salt shakers?" you asked, turning towards the frantic boy with no fret on your face.

he gasped like he had memorised an answer for a test as he reached into one of his jeans pocket's and pulled out a small glass salt shaker, just like he said he would. you licked one corner of your mouth as a lightbulb lit in your mind, "watch this."

you ran towards sunghoon's side of his car and bent down behind the cover of the vehicle. from within you could see sunghoon's toned arm tightly head-locking yeonjun as the said make grunted and tapped his biceps in any way to be loosened. riki had hueningkai's converses roughly planted on the side of his face and jake was letting out girlish squeals from beomgyu and taehyun grasping onto his white shirt to lift him over the bumper of the car.

the most atrocious scuffle you'd seen. but instead of focusing so much on the circus act in front of you, you poured your attention onto your wrist bent at a 90° angle. you were aiming the salt shaker towards bangchan's group and you needed just enough power to throw it over the vehicle beside you.

luckily, salt shakers aren't relatively heavy. with a singular motion, the glass ornament went flying into the air and crashed into jeongin's eyes. the sudden collision staggered the young boy and his feet once keeping his balance toppled one over the other.

the brown haired boy fell backwards onto his tailbone, hands cupping around his eyelids and he let out a groan of pain. you heard a loud cascade of sinister laughter from the group of boys gang fighting in sunghoon's car. it was obviously riki getting the biggest kick outta jeongin being victim to throw.

"haha! was that you sunoo hyung?!" riki laughed abnormally with a wide smile, hands gripping onto the converse sole roughly kicking against him. with his stubborn hold, he bent the shoes back towards hueningkai who groaned at the agonising stretch, "good throw!"

hearing riki's loud banter, jeongin wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm, immediately targeting sunoo across from him, "you askin' for it, fucker," the youngest cursed with a sudden shift of gravity as he stood up and bolted towards sunoo's oblivious self. changbin, han, and a few others followed suit.

your friend squeaked out at the scare, stepping backwards and beginning to run the opposite direction from the newborn crowd, "you just had to say somethin' riki!"

although your plan had sort of backfired, it sparked the interest of jungwon who was standing behind you with his fingers buried tightly in his locks. he had just observed your impressive throw of precision, yet he was still debating on how to include himself in the rumble. his blue coveralls hang loosely around his fit frame, his head turning towards sunoo's quickly paced frame running across the width of the race track.

it wasn't like jungwon offered to fight in rumbles often. he rather be in jay's garage, tweaking any automobile he could get his hands on. with such brute handy work, you'd assume he would pack a somewhat hard punch, kick, or something like that.

"jungwon-if y'don't do somethin' i'll-" sunghoon grunted while scampering his torso up with one of his feet extending himself high on his car seat. using the newfound angle, he slammed one side of yeonjun's head into his steering wheel and sounded an ear-piercing beep of his car.

a few of yeonjun's lackeys who were beating up jake and riki loosened their hold on them to cover their ears at the sudden crack of sound. jungwon's dark round eyes shifted to your crouched position next to sunghoon's car door and bit down on his lip in uncertainty.

just as you were open your lips to say something, a bright flash behind you distracted your train of thought. everyone's heads collectively fwipped around like there was a magnet placed behind an external magnetic field. a flat hand placed itself against your brow bones in hopes to shield your poor eyes from the bright gleam.

the high-beams of the car switched off.

"that couldn't be..."

your eyelids immediately raised at the appearance of jay park behind the steering wheel, "you think a rumble s'gonna happen without me?!" the familiar boy roared over the loud engines of his car. beside him was a figure with reddish-pink tuffs belonging to someone with a flashy smile. you didn't recognise him at first. hell, you wouldn't believe anyone could with the new colour he was sporting.

it was heeseung.

"jay-heeseung!" the masculine voices near you loudly exclaimed in an imperfect harmony. you sputtered on your own breath while watching as jay diagonally parked in front of sunghoon. his ridiculous sunglasses rested atop of his nose bridge as he exited the car, not even waiting another beat before getting his claws onto yeonjun.

"y'gonna miss this," jay laughed out, rough hands digging into yeonjun's shoulders as he dragged the unsuspecting male out of sunghoon's reach. yeonjun landed onto the course pavement, grunting out with a sore cheek from the brutal number sunghoon did on him.

"those shades look ridiculous," were the first words sunghoon exchanged with the make he hadn't seen for a couple of nights. the reunited duo clasped hands, pulling each other into a half handhake-half embrace position.

your pupils dilated, ears cancelling the noise of your surroundings as you watched heeseung leave the car next. his pink hairdo highlighted him in the moonlight and it only made it harder for your eyes to peel off of him.

he wasn't drenched in car oil, or sums of feet away from you on the race track. he was right there. he was wearing his beloved race jacket and navy jeans thats pocket's occupied his thumbs. his remaining fingers rested on his thighs as he skimmed the scenery. seeing him after countless weeks didn't feel real. but another daydream.

"do-something!" sunoo's heightened scream broke your tunnel vision of lee. he ran right towards jay and sunghoon, on the path past jay before the taller man simply reached a finger out to hook onto the back of sunoo's collar. the forceful halt of his marathon had jeongin and the other couple of boys suddenly freeze in confusion of where sunoo had vanished to.

jeongin huffed with a puffed chest rising and falling like a hyperventilation bag, a mean look on his fatigued face.

"and you's would be?" jay questioned, unhooking his finger from sunoo's collar in which the boy collapsed onto the ground from exhaustion. jeongin balled his fists staring off jay, never having met him before.

"put a lid on it. y'wearin' sunglasses in the middle of the night," jeongin responded with a foul tongue. jay raised an eyebrow, mouth pursing as a smoulder crept onto his face whilst he pushed his sunglasses upwards smugly.

the display of mock confidence was less than appetising, to say the least, "ts' a handicap for you goons. y'gonna need it," jay remarked, his beady eyes analysing the crowd and positions of everyone surrounding. jake, taehyun, beomgyu, hueningkai, riki, sunghoon and even yeonjun had paused their actions, curious to watch what the exchange of banter would entail in the centre of the floor.

"rattle your cage, y'not that important," jeongin spat, turning back to the numbers behind him to whisper something. bangchan, felix and hyunjin were the only three not engaging in the festivities but the appearance of heeseung and jay ushered them towards the centre with everyone else in curiosity.

"well ain't this a kick! thats lee, but with pink hair, ey!" felix's deep voice announced as if heeseung wasn't standing there for minutes already.

"either i get my revenge on your crew for what y'did to lee over there, or you get up and take down these mobs here," jay briskly offered towards yeonjun, extending a hand towards the chestnut haired boy. yeonju had a hand holding his stomach, wheezing out at the collision his back suffered against the concrete ground.

yet, he returned the gesture. he'd know exactly where a battle with jay would end up, and he didn't exactly appreciate the steaming smoke of a cigarette fry his eyeballs again. jay grinned with one side of his mouth as yeonjun beckoned something towards the rest of his group, causing them to release jake and riki from their thresholds.

you were unsure of how to react. on one hand you wanted to run to heeseung, vent to him how much you were dying to see him, see a sliver of his presence to calm the storm in your heart. on the other hand, you wanted to avoid him out of all possible chances he loathed your being for what you did.

his head gradually turned towards you, doe eyes following suit as he noticed your hiding figure. as someone called out his name, he straightened his posture and held out a hand while curling his fingers for a split second to gesture you to follow. your shoulders stiffened as your breath hitched for a split second, hesitantly raising in your stature.

you quickly jogged to heeseung as he held out his forearm, your waist being the perfect place to rest it as he walked with you towards the others. there was no 'hello', no 'how are you?', not even a 'where were you?'. you simply craned your head upwards to lock eyes and admit,

"i missed you so much, hot stuff."

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lazarushound · 10 months ago

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The Official lazarushound Dean Winchester Playlist

Okay so this playlist is a big deal to literally no one except me but I spent like two hours explaining every single song on my dean playlist and I'll be damned if I don't share it with SOMEONE.

The playlist in question, which I update and add songs too fairly often(ish). It's roughly arranged in order of Dean's story, from pre-canon to the finale. A fair few of the songs are courtesy of catgirlhannibal, whom I adore.

Warning that is is a VERY LONG READ and almost definitely is plagued with typos. Without further ado, here is the 9.5k word explanation of every single song (at time of posting) on the playlist. Call that shit explicable Dean Winchester vibes, complete with my favourite lyrics from each song.

• Ramble On - Led Zeppelin

Dean's favourite song! The whole song is basically about having no choice but to keep going, even when things are tough. It's also actually about LOTR which is funny cause Dean's secretly a nerd lol. But yeah, it reflects a lot on Dean's nature as a traveller and someone who never settles in one place for long. Sometimes I grow so tired but I know I've got one thing I've got to do - I ramble on.

• Travelling Riverside Blues - Led Zeppelin

Dean's other favourite song! Probably not a popular reading of this song but for me, it definitely has a level of queer coding. Asked sweet mama, let me be your kid, she said "you might get hurt if you don't keep it hid" is the most obvious example of it.

• Psalms 40:2 - The Mountain Goats

Very biblical song lol. It's a lot about small town America (as many TMG songs are) and shitty motels which resonates with Dean pretty heavily. Not to mention: He has raised me from the pit and set me high.

• Night Moves - Bob Segar

This one is literally in the show so naturally reminds me of him. But it's about a teenage romance which definitely makes me think of young Dean. I mean, come on: out in the backseat of my '60 Chevy when the man drives a '67 Chevy??

• Father - The Front Bottoms

A few songs on this playlist are pretty much only there for one or two lines. This is not one of them. I could write another essay about this song and how it relates to Dean, every fucking line. You were high school, and I was just more like real life, and you were okay as a girlfriend, but I was just more like his wife 😮‍💨

• Old Number Seven - The Devil Makes Three

This is another song I'm pretty convinced was written about Dean. Once played it on guitar and my dad asked if it was about him so that's all the validation I needed. Angels start to look good to me, they're gonna have to deport me to the fiery deep.

• Mission - Alex G

This song to me is very much pre canon/season one Dean. It's all about following orders and being a good soldier, much like Dean's devotion to his father. I was trained to stick to the mission, I was trained, I kept it on track. To me, Mission has a slightly bitter tone, as though the narrator is resentful that they've followed orders so obediently and only suffered as a result.

• Adam Raised a Cain - Bruce Springsteen

Courtesy of catgirlhannibal. What a surprise, another biblical song. Dean sees himself as nothing more than a soldier, violent and aggressive. He sees his father as a hero, despite the fact that he's an abusive bastard. Well, daddy worked his whole life for nothing but pain, now he walks these empty rooms looking for something to blame.

• Shoulders - Big Thief

Okay, I'd argue this song is more akin to Sam than Dean but fuck you, this is my playlist and I choose the music. And the blood of the man who killed my mother with his hands, it's in me, it's in me, in my veins is obviously related to Sam and Azazel but also to Dean and John, as though Dean comes to realise that he's just like his father.

• Celene - Gigi Perez

End of season two! This song is about losing a sibling and is very much the mindset I pictured Dean to be in after losing Sam for the first time. I'd also argue it's how Dean felt when Sam was at Stanford. The other day I thought of something funny, but no one would have laughed but you.

• Like Real People Do - Hozier

Why were you digging? What did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth? HELLOOO CASTIEL! Very season four Destiel, those boys will NOT kiss like real people do.

• It's Only Sex - Car Seat Headrest

Okay so post-resurrection Dean is VERRRRRY traumatised which makes it difficult for him to enjoy the things he used to love, including sex. This song is also about his struggle over his feelings for Cas: what happens if I don't like it? I like you.

• Not Allowed - TV Girl

Well, you may not like it but you better learn how cause it's your turn now! Very much following on from It's Only Sex, similar themes in this song but more relating to Dean's insistence on keeping up The Act and pretending he's the same man he was before Hell.

• Presumably Dead Arm - Sidney Gish

Second catgirlhannibal song to make the list. Just to start this off, this isn't the start of anything. To me, this whole song is Dean skirting around his feelings for Cas and trying to pretend they don't exist in hopes they go away eventually. They don't. Honey, you are nothing to me, (but alcohol and dopamine)/(I don't call people anything thought to be so sweet).

• Tangled in Ropes - Holy Locust

I literally wrote a whole essay about this one so I'll keep it short with just the best lyric. Had a laugh made of wax, house made of butter, how they melted that summer.

• Hate Yourself - TV Girl

If there's one thing we've learned about Dean Winchester, it's that the man loves to use sex as a means to avoid his problems. How long will it take? Before you start to hate yourself and go straight into the arms of someone else is just straight up Dean struggling to give himself time to grieve and overcome his trauma. He'd rather just hookup with someone else and pretend it doesn't make him hate himself more and more every time.

• Cherry Wine - Hozier

See: my whole essay about this song and Destiel. And it's worth it, it's divine, I have this some of the time.

• Body to Flame - Lucy Dacus

Another catgirlhannibal song! I see you holding your breath with your arms outstretched, waiting for someone to come rip open your chest. This song to me feels like Dean kicking himself for every trusting Cas, after Cas betrays him for the first time. To accept Cas as his family was going against his every instinct to close himself off from outsiders, and Cas just proved him right by betraying him.

• Motion Sickness - Phoebe Bridges

Okay this one is basically just for I hate you for what you did, and I miss you like a little kid lol. It just perfectly encapsulates Dean, bitter and resentful towards Cas whilst simultaneously missing him so much his heart aches.

• I'm Your Man - Mitski

Oh, woof. Continuing the betrayal arc, this song is all about Dean's guilt. It's his fault Cas fell from Heaven, his fault this angel isn't holy anymore. I'm sorry I'm the one you love, no one will ever love me like you again.

• Not Strong Enough - Boygenius

Where do I start? Always an angel, never a god 😮‍💨 I think if you played this song to Dean it would break him a little bit. I DON'T KNOW WHY I AM THE WAY I AM!!!

• Legit Tattoo Gun - The Front Bottoms

I was aware of this song but catgirlhannibal brought to my attention that it's Destiel coded 🧐 Who did I think I was? Who did I think that I could be? Oh, how dare me. Dean just kicking himself for ever thinking he could allow himself to have something with Cas.

• SHALLOW (PPL SWIM IN SHALLOW WATER) - Saya Gray

Okay, this one is a bit of a "hear me out." I'm seeing Mother Mary, she says I'm closer to Hell than the clouds are to Heaven. Dean's mother is called Mary so she's LITERALLY Mother Mary which scratches my brain very nicely. Obviously Dean sees himself as a sinner and doomed for Hell, despite the fact that he's a hero. And I left my enemies, cause nobody hates myself more than me, GOOD LORD DOES THAT MAN LOVE SOME SELF LOATHING. My mother's evil and the angels too is soooooo self explanatory. Dean has an idealistic version of Mary in his head which is challenged when she comes back to life and he interacts with her as an adult. There's also the fact that real angels aren't as "good" as you'd think. Sometimes I don't think I'm cherished enough.

• John Wayne Gacy, Jr. - Sufjan Stevens

This song is an allegory for being gay. The narrator sees himself as evil, just as bad as the serial killer for which the song is named, just because he's gay. And in my best behaviour, I am really just like him, look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid.

• Always - Panic! At the Disco

Another one that is less obvious without me explaining it lol. The light in this song is a reference to the Great Gatsby which is a whole other queer coded story in its own right. But I always (hehe) picture this song as Dean struggling with Cas' feelings for him which are becoming more and more evident. It was always you falling for me particularly stands out to me, along with you are taking me apart like bad glue on a get well card.

• Star Tripping - Kevin Atwater

Okay I looooooove love this song. But it's another song which relates to God and being queer. It's about a very toxic relationship, in which one person is relatively okay with their sexuality and the other is incredibly repressed (seem familiar?). I could use any lyric from this song but I'll go with: you think He made you wrong, I think you're giving Him way too much credit, crying at the party, know it only bothers you if you let it, later you can kiss me, blame it on the stuff you took to forget it.

• The Calendar - Panic! At The Disco

Another Panic! song 💀 also from vices and virtues. Another "hear me out." There's the more obvious I will come back to life but only for you but I also think the rest of the song relates pretty strongly to Destiel. You said if you don't let it out, you're gonna let it eat you away, I'd rather be a cannibal baby, animals like me don't talk anyway. For me, it strongly resembles Dean's view of himself, an attack dog. Cannibalism as a metaphor for love. And obviously that man loves to repress stuff and let it eat him away, so to speak.

• Lacy - Olivia Rodrigo

Lawd. This song has a lot of queer subtext in and of itself. It's all about adoring someone to the point where you become insecure because you know you'll never be as good as them. The song is bitter and resentful whilst simultaneously loving and adoring. I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you, yeah I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you. He hates himself because he loves Cas. HE HATES HIMSELF BECAUSE HE LOVES CAS.

• Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths

Dean does not let himself have nice things. Lord knows, it would be the first time. This song feels pretty self explanatory to me lol.

• Feeling Oblivion - Turin Brakes

Okay this is my favourite song of all time so I'm slightly biased for including it HOWEVER. I feel it also applies to Dean pretty well. We're now at the point in the story where Dean is about to/has already lost Cas. This song invokes an incredibly deep feeling of nostalgia for me, like looking back on when things were better. Now it is night time, maybe we're cruising avoiding the anti-cruise, like tell me this isn't Dean and Cas just driving around Kansas cause Dean can't sleep 😭 and don't even get me fucking started on so don't leave me here on my own, by the time fear takes me over, will we still be rolling? Feeling oblivion cause this song makes me cry every time I hear it I stg.

• Who We Are - Hozier

Poor Dean :( bro has just lost his best friend, and is now realising that he'll never be able to tell him how he felt. It's like he's seeing things plainly for the first time, realising what he's been missing. He never had Cas because they spent so long avoiding their relationship, and now it's too late. You only feel it when it's lost, getting through still has its cost, quietly, it slips through your fingers, love, falling from you drop by drop.

• Crack Baby - Mitski

I don't know if I really need to say more than: crack baby, you don't know what you want, but you know that you had it once, and you know that you want it back.

• Knockin' on Heaven's Door - Bob Dylan

This is another song that's in the show (dark side of the moon, I love you) so naturally reminds me of Dean. It might be a bit on the nose putting it right at the end but it just feels like Dean finally letting himself rest (die of tetanus). Mama, put my guns in the ground, I can't shoot them anymore.

#supernatural #cw supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #dean and cas #destiel #spotify playlist #character playlist #playlist

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kiawren · 4 months ago

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Okay I wanted to study math but I got so distracted by important kiawren thoughts..

You know how some time ago I posted this about the fire-crested wren's story making me think about kiawren (I realised there was a typo, I didn't type out the 'wren' after 'fire-crested' woops.)

Today I realised I didn't dwell on the other part of the chapter I read this at. One of the hawaiian stories of Maui finding fire relates to him learning from birds who could make fire. (you can read the full thing here, it's cool I found it online after reading this in person but my new phone doesn't have the pics of the pages)

And like..... ... I was thinking how it is birds that first alight fire in this folklore. And Kiawe... Maybe his fire burns passionately becuz of Wren. Yes he's always had the drive in him, but a new sort of fire was kindled after he met Wren. It's a new sort of love and passion. Especially becuz he talks about feeling down and unsure about the future until but he says talking to (the player) helps.

Similar to this Pokemon Masters storyline:

He can and does feel burnt out (haha) sometimes and it really helps to know the people and pokemon around him care for him and want to achieve their goals together. So, I think with Wren around he'd have a new sort of motivation and looking forward to show them his progress. (Becuz he does all this for pokemon and people in the first place, to learn about the connections between the natural world and people through this cultural art.)

Wow ok I'm going off tangent. Uhm basically he needs a bird to keep his fire alive. (The bird meaning me)

Something else,

I find it comforting that he'd also know Banyan trees becuz they also have stories where I'm from: (there are more apart from these)

I think Kiawe would like that the former myth relates to music (the kompang drum) since he's a traditional dancer that also appreciates traditional music.

This is the same sccreenshot as the second picture on this post but I was quite glad to read they were baking bananas. Becuz I love goreng pisang that you can find in my region🤤🤤🤤 (fried banana)

Like! We could tell each other these stories and remark about their similarities (also, the snake in the Banyan was killed and Maui broke a neck and burned the head of the birds in the earlier story, but I didn't screenshot that part. Interestingly they have the animals on the losing end lol) and find parts of it that relates to us, even though these stories were shaped in different places.

The main thing I wanted to say is that Kiawren is so special to me for relating our love to the stories and symbols of the world, so that it goes past just "haha us" to wow I'm learning a lot of things because of you, and it's a larger than life feeling.

Also I remembered this silly drawing I did last time. If you asked Kiawe about loving Wren he'd probably remark that he loves them simply, becuz he cares for them and likes learning with and spending time with them. And if you ask me about loving him, I'd tell you about the fire-crested wren, the birds that made fire on trees that led Maui to bring fire to people, the way the Pacific Ring of Fire and the way tectonic plates subduct to form volcanoes reminds me of him and us. The Dragon and Phoenix in Chinese myth are celestial beings and when paired together represent marriage and prosperity. (He reminds me of reptilians, hardy and seemingly fierce but can be gentle. The dragon is formidable. He also has dragon, charizard, that used to be his grandfather's, the ex island kahuna and yes I'm following the pokeani story here cuz i like incorporating it with his game character. So yes I associate him with the dragon. And I'm the phoenix becuz bird. And also he loves fire. The dragon and the fire-bird. ) Chalk it up to age-old mythologies and natural phenomena that is a symbol of us before we even met, and even if we part.

#LOLL I typed all this instead of studying I'm so cooked for math.#Sorry mathematics statistics I don't think you count as an emotion. Kiawrenning is an important step in a person's life #Kiawren #About kiawren #He's so perfect for me can you tell #When he started out at an f/o I would never have thought since simply being a comfort character to me he'd become like. Literally a part of #my brain #Wren chirping #Loving you is loving the world

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beewolfwrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Seventeen: The Second Trial - Pathos

@zantedeschiasblog @druukkari

It took me a good few days to write this after going back through the episode to get the scene right, but here it is! Hope you like the new chapter :)

(Sorry in advance for any typos or errors)

The AO3 link is here.

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After the rules were announced, pairs immediately began to form. Strangers suddenly banded together, shooting off down the halls to find private spaces to share their suits. The woman in the flouncy blue dress suggested creating a large group, but there was a strangeness to her grin, a little too much enjoyment for a Hearts game.

I don’t trust that woman.

My gut was telling me to run a mile.

Meanwhile, the man who carried himself like a Yakuza loan shark quickly selected his victim. He advanced on a mild mannered short man in a checked shirt and demanded to know what his suit was. It seemed like a stupid idea to me. Why intimidate someone when they could just lie and kill you? Yes, they might shy away from it out of fear of becoming everyone’s target, but was it worth the risk to your own life?

Ippei suddenly turned to Chishiya. ‘Hey, let’s tell each other.’

Chishiya folded his arms across his chest, nodding to the others still in the room. ‘If you want to survive, you need to observe everyone here very closely. You need to remember everyone who doesn’t lie.’ He paused. ‘Besides, I could be the Jack of Hearts myself.’

Ippei was clinging onto every word that came out of Chishiya’s mouth, as though he were a pillar of wisdom. I tried to suppress a smile.

‘Look,’ Chishiya said. ‘They’ve already broken up into groups. They’re all sizing up one another to see if they can trust anyone.’ Inhaling sharply, he pointed into one of the halls. It was the couple from earlier, deep in private conversation. ‘See those two? Do you know what they were doing before the game began?’

Chishiya briefly filled Ippei in, and I looked down as my face grew warm.

“There are plenty of cells.”

Ippei’s shock was too innocent. ‘Really? They did something like that?’ Then he turned to me. ‘You must have seen it too, right?’

I shook my head, waving away the suggestion. ‘I didn’t see anything. 見なかった.’

Chishiya was watching the businessman, “Yaba”, carefully. ‘That guy’s got massive confidence. He’s got her under his thumb and won’t let her get involved with any other participants. In this game, if you build ultimate confidence with one person, you’ll survive and win.’

Ippei said nothing, probably unsure of who to trust now. Personally, I was hesitant to approach any of the other players; they all seemed either too passive or too insane. There was no in-between.

I noticed that Chishiya was no longer watching the pairs in the guardroom, but instead his attention was captured by something happening down in the cell block below. I followed his gaze to the iron wire covering, through which we could see straight down into the lower floor.

It was that creep from earlier. The one with the blank, deadened eyes. He was standing around, talking with another player - the guy with shaggy hair covering one eye.

So they’ve become partners already?

Someone with such a sinister aura was too obvious as the Jack. It couldn’t be him.

A pattering of footsteps broke me out of my concentration. That girl with the blue dress had already gathered a troupe of players. The group bypassed me entirely, approaching only Chishiya and Ippei. That woman, their ring leader, spoke up.

‘Hey, would you like to join our team?’ The question was aimed only at the two of them. ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to.’

Wow…

Nobody had realised that Chishiya and I were working together - that much was glaringly obvious. Ippei regarded the woman with distrust. Maybe he had taken on Chishiya’s advice a little too much.

‘No, I don’t mind,’ he mumbled, then looked back at Chishiya, seeking confirmation. Chishiya, who decided in that very moment to catch me completely off guard.

‘Okay, let’s work together.’ The pitch of his voice increased, matching the woman’s false cheeriness.

What the… Chishiya?

The group bowed to greet their newest members and walked away to find a quiet spot on the other side of the room, Ippei and Chishiya following in their footsteps. Neither one looked back.

I had just been ditched by the only person I could trust to tell me the correct suit.

Fantastic.

There had to be a reason for Chishiya’s reluctance to partner with me. Was it out of protection? No, it couldn’t be. Those who had trustworthy partners were bound to survive - it’s not as if anyone could take advantage of our relationship in this game. But why? Was he hoping that I would partner with someone else so that the two of us working independently could maximise the effort to find the Jack? There was no way that would work. So far every single player, other than Ippei, had been avoiding me because they probably assumed I wouldn’t understand anything.

This was going to be a long, long game.

I love you Chishiya, but I really don’t like you.

Huffing, I wandered around the guardroom, following some of the others downstairs. Descending one floor, the staircase opened up into the lower cell block. Standing before me was the creepy guy and his partner, too busy checking their suits to notice me standing there. I peered up through the iron wire cover into the guardroom above, where my eye caught Chishiya’s.

His gaze held mine for a long few seconds. It wasn’t cold or apathetic; he had the same expression he always did when he was planning something. I guess I just had to trust that he had a reason for this.

There’s always a reason.

Breaking away first, I headed down a long twisted corridor that led deeper and deeper into the belly of the prison. So far, I had seen several players head down here and none of them had returned. The corridor was dark aside from the dim fluorescent lights flickering above. In the distance, an arched entrance came into view, and voices grew louder from within. As I grew closer, it became obvious why.

The cafeteria.

Players were sitting at wooden picnic tables in their pairs and trios, some turning their heads and whispering as I entered. I didn’t care. There was something much more interesting in front of me.

The cafeteria was packed, floor to ceiling, with shelves of food — more food than I’d seen even in convenience stores across the city. Each and every shelf shone red, blue, green, white with packets of ramen, cookies, dried savoury snacks, crackers, energy drinks, water, coffee and everything in-between. On a wooden pallet on the ground lay several large sacks containing flour and rice.

The Jack really did go all out.

There was enough food in here for six months, maybe even more. And because of that, I didn’t feel guilty wandering the shelves in search of something sweet. Some of the packets and labels I couldn’t read, but I could identify what they were by pictures. Taking a bag of what looked like tiny chocolate cookies, I found myself a table in the corner of the cafeteria where I could eat them in peace.

Now that I was assessing the players in the room, I could see why Chishiya probably left me. Whilst he was closely observing the dynamics within that group, I had the opportunity to observe the others. In one corner, a pair of women were sharing a bag of crackers, whispering amongst themselves. Across from me, the nervous looking man with the checked shirt was sitting beside his unwanted partner - Mr Loan Shark. Clearly their partnership would fall apart soon. It was just a matter of when.

And then I noticed something strange.

The woman I’d seen earlier - the one who was in a relationship with Yaba. She was finally alone, wandering the shelves of the cafeteria and glancing over her shoulder at every turn.

That’s weird.

If she was here, then where was Yaba?

‘You’re out of place here.’

I jumped at the unfamiliar voice, a cookie slipping between my fingers. But when I realised who had seated themselves opposite me, my whole body froze. His deep eyes bored into mine, holding no light, no empathy. Nothing.

‘You have no partner,’ he said meditatively. ‘And nobody wants to approach you because you’re different to the rest. You’re alone here and scared, but you’re trying to hide it by appearing as though you want to be left alone.’

It was such an off-putting thing to say to a total stranger, I wasn’t exactly sure of what to make of him.

What the hell is this guy’s problem?

‘あんたは誰か,’ I said, abruptly. Who are you?

A tiny smile pulled at his mouth. It didn’t suit him. ‘Join our team. Three is safer than two.’

Even for the sake of observation, I wasn’t willing to partner with this man. And so, I smiled in return. ‘残念、パスだ.’ Sorry, but I’ll pass.

He didn’t seem to mind the brashness of my tone. In fact, he seemed quite at ease with it. ‘Are you sure? You wouldn’t be alone.’

‘確かなのだ.’ I’m good as I am.

He didn’t move, despite me rejecting his offer. There was something about this atmosphere. I had the distinct feeling as though I was being tested.

Is he trying to work out if I’m the Jack based on my reactions?

It wouldn’t be unreasonable. A lone player in the corner of the room who didn’t feel the need to seek a partner. Even I would suspect someone like that.

Finally he stood up. ‘Have it your way, but you might change your mind soon.’

As he walked away from my bench, Chishiya’s group entered the cafeteria. It took me a few seconds to notice as I was busy mentally shaking off that weird, weird encounter. But when I looked up, I saw Chishiya watching me. His gaze jumped from me to that creep. For once, I was glad he couldn’t speak to me because he would have admonished me for speaking to a person like that.

The hour dragged on. Chishiya’s group had disappeared across the room to eat together, and I’d lost track of them already. If every round was like this, it would quickly become boring. Should I have tried to partner up with someone? Or was it too late now that groups had already been formed?

‘THE HOUR IS ALMOST OVER. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE CELLS.’

Yep, it’s definitely too late now.

Everyone got to their feet, stuffing the last of our food in our mouths as we shuffled together back down to the guardroom. Even though I knew I was safe for this round, nervousness fluttered in my chest and I had to clench and unclench my fingers in my pockets to ease the tension.

‘IT IS TIME TO MAKE YOUR GUESS. EVERYONE, PLEASE ENTER A CELL. ONE PERSON PER CELL, PLEASE.’

I selected a cell mid way down the block. Not that it mattered; they were all the same. With one last glance over my shoulder, I locked eyes with the man from earlier. Again, he was watching me with that eerie detachment. Holding back a shiver, I opened the heavy door and stepped inside. The door closed by itself behind me, the lock immediately sliding into place. I tried to open it again just to check, and sure enough it wouldn’t budge.

The cell inside was tiny, with just a toilet and a sink. And the silence. The door was so thick, so airtight, it blocked out all sound from the cells around me. Yet through the gridded window, I could faintly see the doors on the opposite side of the hall. In fact, honing in on the one cell parallel to mine, I swore I could see a flash of blond hair.

‘PLEASE MAKE YOUR GUESS.’

The timer will be running out soon.

It was fine. We knew our suits before the game even began. I took a deep breath.

‘刃アート.’ Heart.

The next few seconds stretched on for an eternity. Without being able to see the timer, waiting for death felt like an eternity.

There was a loud buzz from outside.

A metallic clang.

Unsure, I tried the door again, finding that it had unlocked this time. When I emerged back into the hallway, others were exiting their cells, looking around to check the player count. Actually, it looked like everyone had come out alive.

Nobody lied in the end.

As relieved as everyone appeared, the game would never be cleared this way. I checked Chishiya’s cell, seeing that he was alive, as expected, but he didn’t look my way. Did he still want to pretend we were strangers? If so, did that mean we had no partnership, not even in secret? We walked back down the hall, heading to the guardroom once more. Watching the back of Chishiya’s head, I only felt more and more alone in this game. And more than anything, I wished I could understand what he was thinking.

What is it that you want me to see?

Whatever it was, I needed to find out. And soon.

‘ROUND TWO - START.’

#alice in borderland #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu

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rottendollface · 3 years ago

Text

Sugar storm.

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Warnings: NSFW, marriage, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader giving and receiving), violence, body horror, yandere behavior, female virgin reader, cockwarming, breeding kink; Childe is: 1) spitting in your mouth, 2) fucking you in Foul Legacy with CNC (but it was just a dream) 3) being a King of Abyss, because I want him to 4) licking your blood; reader is a kind of witch with Cryo Vision, blood magic, happy (?) end, 18+.

Summary: Headcanons about being a Childe's forced wife.

Word count: 4758.

Now playing:

~ Please message me about all the typos and mistakes! ~

• Something was wrong with you: strange dreams, empty stares, and knowledge about herbs and drugs that your mother had never told you. Sometimes you started to talk like you were answering on someone's questions but when your mother asked you about this, you had always been surprised, never remembering those episodes.

• You started to understand your dreams with first menstruation. A hazy veil that covered forms of visions dissolved, and everything became clear to you. Some of your dreams predicted the near future, some of them just answered your questions.

• One day you accidentally mixed your blood with pain killing mixture and it worked too good for your surprise. You didn't expect it to have an instant effect: the patient stopped screaming, his heavy breathing calmed, and became fitful but quiet. Blood was the key to everything related to your strange, even devilish powers.

• When the danger hanged over the village, you felt it, explained your misgivings to the head of Morepesok. The threat was eliminated, but you were blamed in witchcraft. He warned you: if you try to use magic again, you would be executed.

And this was his gratitude? Your feelings became too intricate to bear, confusion and fear attacked your mind — in this moment you got your Cryo Vision, a perfect chance to save your reputation and blame it for every mystical thing you had ever done. Blessed Tsaritsa saved you from this ungrateful redneck! But your life wasn't so carefree anymore.

• One day your dreams left you, but your blood still worked as enhancer for drugs and even for Cryo powers. It was nothing more than the calm before the storm.

You would remember the 23th of January as the darkest day in your life. Sun wasn't seen due to a horrific blizzard; dark went faster than usual. Strange feeling tormented your heart, you couldn't find a place in your house where you could feel yourself safe. Wind was crying on the streets, fiercely punching glasses of your house. As usual, you prayed to Tsaritsa before going to sleep, your exhausted soul finally got a peace: you lighted candles to illuminate her little altar. You were lulled by the anguishing nature, then found yourself in strange corridor. It was dimly here, smelled with mustiness and something strange: persistent malodor with metallic and salty parts, maybe it was an old blood. Afraid, you forced yourself to walk through the corridor without realising that it was just a dream, a very unpleasant horrific fantasy.

You heard a noise that wasn't your steps. You turned your head around and noticed something big in the dark corner. It was first to react. With one move, it jumped out the corner and rushed to you, running quickly on his multiple limbs. You didn't want to know what was that deformed beast – you ran as fast as you could, your vision was blurred because of tears.

A hand catched your dress, pulled it down, making you fall, the other one got your leg. Hands, lot's of hands with deep bloody wounds and roughly sewn skin flaps tried to grab your body with their crooked fingers, every hand dragged you right to the cage of it's owner: something similar to a human creature but damaged badly, unrecognisable. Deep purulenting holes, oozing with white worms, reddish brown rotten flesh, infected with black enormously big bubbles, drool flowing out torned mouthes with rows of teeth of any form and size. You were screaming histerically, and they were screaming, chirring and howling with you.

The floor under you trembled. It was enough for them to shut up and freeze in horror. You fetched away but hands got alarmed, reached for you to slow you down, and tried to lug you to the cage. One of them thrusted fingers in your head, made you turn around forcefully to see Him: their King. You stopped moving as horror took over your body, your figure held still in a half-standing position. The choir of damned voices started singing again; they called Him, they wanted to present you to Him as a sacrifice to save themselves from His wrath. A wave of panic hit you when you saw Him: a tall, strongly-built man with large muscles. It was enough strength in His legs to smash you with one step.

The King formed the blade in his hands and twisted it, still approaching you. Prisoner's grip tightened on your body; didn't matter how hard you tried to escape, you couldn't. With one sway, He chopped the extremities of the prisoners. You fell on your knees but didn't shift and just waited for your turn to die. The King grabbed your body and threw it on His shoulder, holding His hand on your back to prevent you from falling. He took you to the main hall: the big golden room with massive throne made out of bones. He ripped off his long starry cape, placed it on the floor, and carefully put you on it. His armored finger traced your skin from neck to belly, scratching it with a claw. You got a chance to glance at him: the red featurless mask with one glowing eye and disheveled ginger hair. You reached your hand to touch Him, and He gently placed it on His mask like you were cupping His cheek. He pushed your legs apart, grabbing your soft thighs, and His erected dick kissed your puffy clit, made you twitched because of a sudden pleasure.

You realised what would happen next. You tried to crawl away or hit Him, but He was much stronger than you: He just pinned both of your hands above your head, continued rubbing your clit with His dick. He placed a tip of it on your wetness, inserting His huge self slowly. He let out a pleased groan, feeling your hot insides tightening and pulsating around him. There was no pain, only the pleasure of being full and stretched with huge monstrous dick. He started moving measuredly afraid to break His fragile doll but quickened with every thrust. He leaned down to you and lifted the mask to let His splitted serpentine tongue lick your neck. You moaned shamelessly under him; your back arched from heated pleasure. Orgasm started to build up when He grabbed your breasts, and suddenly, you woke up.

• Tartaglia felt uneasy when he returned to his home village. He wasn't a Tartaglia anymore, no – he became an Ajax, a rowdy boy with funny ginger hair. No one met him at the train station: he kept his vacation in secret, wanted to surprise everyone. He did a good job in Liyue, and Tsaritsa decided that he deserved a good rest from all the battles and eternal chaos he lived in.

While wondering through the streets of Morepesok (Ajax was surprised how big the village became during his trip), he saw your delicate figure in a heavy fur coat. You felt his presence, turned your head to him, and smiled as if he was your old friend. You just wanted to be nice, afraid to mess up relationships with locals: most of them were afraid of you, but a little part of marginals mocked you because of your powers and medical mistakes that sometimes had cost people their lives. You and your mother were the only doctors at Morepesok, and she trained you from a very little how to heal people with herbs and drugs. She wanted you to take her place once she would be dead. She created a good reputation for your small family and had always told you that family was the only treasure you had. You believed her; you followed her like a blind kitten, unable to think different way.

But did you want it? You didn't know. You remembered every bad word and an ungrateful attitude from the patients. You remembered how someone tried to stub you with a knife because of a stillborn baby that had died long before its actual birth. You saved its mother only with powers of Cryo, but they called you a witch, blamed you for freezing their baby to death. Everyone respected your mother, but not you. No one could ever try to say a harsh word to her, but insulting you was different: you didn't have her mature figure and a cruel glisten in your eyes. You would never fight back: you were afraid of deep wounds and people's screams full of agony and pain; you had always wanted to run away as soon as you got a chance. Someone called you a devil's whore because of Cryo Vision and never cared that Tsaritsa herself blessed you with this power. No one wanted you to assist during their procedures, and you obeyed. You didn't have this malice inside your soul and had never wanted to insult or curse them back. You wanted only peace and calmness.

But Teucer, this sweet boy with beautiful ginger locks, was always on your side. You saved him when he ate the poisonous berries, and there wasn't a day without him telling other people how smart and good you were.

• Boys your age had never showed affection towards you, and you had never liked them back. Older men tried to ask you in marriage, admiring your beauty and seeing you as a good house keeper, but your mother told all of them that you were still a child, a barren flower that weren't ready to produce even a menstrual blood. Of course, she fooled them: your figure was obviously feminine and showed readiness to bear children. Your mother made it clear for you that no one in this damned village deserved to be your mate; also, it was too early for you to think about marriage.

• Ajax was the first person who understood all your feelings. He was proud with his reputation of a merciless Fatui soldier; the animalistic fear he saw in other people's eyes made him more confident in himself.

When Ajax had seen you — the defenseless dove — for the first time, he couldn't resist a burning heat inside his heart. He wanted you as his trophy: a beautiful woman to accompany him in his trips. You looked like a living statue from Liyue: graceful feminine nymph, goddess of elegance. The sight of your face was enough to make his dick hard in his pants: plump rosy lips, round cheeks, red from a cold winter breeze, soft cheekbones and shining eyes. He was dying to touch you, he wanted to feel your velvet skin under his calloused fingers, but he didn't even talk to you.

• His family was so happy to see him again, he didn't have a chance to search for you or ask them about you. His mind was full of erotic thoughts, imagination ran wild, but it was just an illusions that could never replace you.

What was your name? How old were you? Were you a local? He searched in his memory but couldn't find any answers. When he finally asked Tonia about you, she was surprised.

'Did Teucer tell you about the berries?' she started playing with one of her braids, trying to calm herself down. 'Well, yes, she saved Teucer when he ate some wild berries, but that was the first and the last time we talked to each other.'

'Teucer did what?' Ajax cared a fragile hope that he heard Tonia wrong.

'He left to the forest and ate a bunch of a poisonous wild berries. Sometimes he is such a pain in my ass just like you!' Tonia replied angrily. 'We didn't even know what was that berries but she somehow knew that. Maybe she is really a witch.'

Even your mother didn't understand the type of poison, but you reacted momentarily. Of course Tonia had heard all the gossips, but she didn't show her fear towards you. She was so scared and only wanted Teucer to breath again, so she didn't care who to ask for help.

And you heard all the rumors about their family too. People told different things, but everyone blamed Ajax for all the bad events in Morepesok. A hilichurls settled near the village? It's Ajax had accidentally showed them a right way from the gloomy forest. Someone got into a fight? That's Ajax made them do this with his words. Sometimes it was whispers that Ajax became one of the Fatui agents.

Fatui... People in Snezhnaya were mostly afraid of their own military forces, but to you Fatui were the brave warriors, patriots who were ready to sacrifice their lives for Tsaritsa. You admired them and you were proud of every boy and girl who decided to protect their Motherland.

• You didn't expect to see Ajax again, but he had showed on the doorstep of your home with a bouquet of flowers and a bundle in his hands. He smiled to you with his best smile: the one that had always tricked people and made them think he was a good person. But something was wrong with him — you caught that pretty fast. His aura send shivers down your spine and all muscles tensed, ready to run.

'Can I help you? I think you mistook a house,' you said, and the look in his eyes darkened, made you afraid.

'I think I chose the right one. May I?' he looked past your shoulder. Timidly, you made a step back and let him in.

'My name is Ajax, I'm Teucer's brother,' he introduced himself.

'Teucer?.. Oh, this ginger boy, I know him. Is he alright?' you remembered your little patient but still were confused.

'Thanks to you he is okay. Please take this for saving Teucer,' Ajax gave you a bouquet, waited for you to put flowers in a vase, 'and this one is from me personally,' Ajax smiled again, satisfied with a blush of shyness on your cheeks. 'I hope I guessed the size.'

'You didn't have to... but thank you,' you were pleased with his attention and gifts, but something inside your brain screamed to you that it wasn't a true reason of his visit. He wanted something from you and he just tried to distract your mind.

'Would you like to have a tea with biscuits?' you asked him first to make him feel uncomfortable. Also you needed to have something at hand to protect yourself. It didn't matter what exactly: you've always carried a different scenarious in your head of how you would spill a boiling water on someone's face or stub someone with a kitchen knife. The most logical way would to use your Cryo Vision, but you used it only for healing.

Ajax was slightly confused but agreed. You didn't even realise that your hospitality played against you in this match. He watched your every move, rated how good you acted in front of him and how you organized your domestic routine. He followed you to the kitchen, placed a heavy samovar on the table to help you. He noticed your mother's stuff and bit his bottom lip. Things became more complicated in one second.

'I forgot to tell you my name!' You got alarmed of your forgetfulness.

'No need, girlie. I know it. Your parents have a good taste in names.'

You felt his discontentment, but didn't understand what screwed up his mood.

'I'll tell them,' you glanced at him, tried to read what in his look made your stomach curle in tensed waiting. 'Why did you come here?'

Your nerves broke under a rising panic in your chest. People went into your house only by need, not with their will. Ajax watched your hands and your surroundings, then laughed.

'Pretty girls shouldn't play with a potential weapon, huh? Easy, girlie. I just wanted to ask: are you single or taken? Nothing more. Maybe flirt with you a little, but that's all.'

'I'm single.'

'Very good. We will be a beautiful couple.'

'I'm not interested in it, please leave my house for Tsaritsa's sake.'

'No-no, girlie, you didn't understand. We will be a beautiful couple.'

• You became his wife in a hilarious short period of time. Ajax organized everything by himself. You didn't have a chance to know him properly, but got the most important information about him: Ajax wasn't a hillbilly with a huge ego, he was a Fatui Harbinger. A person, who didn't accept refusals. He had enough friends in the Government and in the Fatui to erase you from this life like you had never existed.

You didn't have to be told twice. Childe Tartaglia or Ajax, as you called him, was a really good man to marry and seemed to be in a deep love with you! Your feelings didn't really matter. You were not the first girl who married without love for her partner. You just needed time to adjust. Despite everything, you had never acted like a brat with him. To be honest, your life became much easier.

You didn't have to interact with other people's screams anymore. There was no reason to wake up early in the morning. Childe fulfilled all your wishes, even the smallest and stupidest; he bought you everything you wanted. You moved to the city with him and weren't afraid of people judging you for everything. You were grateful to Childe. He gave you a lucky ticket and wanted only to be loved in return, so you did your best: educated yourself in his hobbies, learned his habits and tastes. You cooked for him and showered him with affection when he returned home after dealing with work-related problems. You were always here to cheer him up; you helped him with his problems, gave good advices, took care of his wounds, small cuts and scars.

• You were a perfect little wife, a dream for all men. You didn't make friends with anyone, because Childe didn't want you to: you respected his wish as a good girl. You really didn't need other people in your life! Childe loved to discuss everything with you: politics, sports, culture, literally everything! He had never mocked you for being ignorant in some topics: he knew that you didn't attend school because you were busy with healing people with your mother. She taught you basics, but deep understanding of pharmacy and medicine you made by yourself. Such a smarty!

Sadly, you didn't have a private space anymore. Sometimes you were alone at your shared apartment, but not for long. Childe was clingy, he wanted to see you every second of his life. You adjusted quickly, got used to eat with him, cook with him, bath with him, read, walk, sleep, work... He tried to keep in physical contact with you: squeezed your hand when you went out for a walk, hugged you from behind while you tried to cook something to eat, made you sit on his lap and stuffed your warm tight pussy with his dick while you were reading a book. Of course Childe didn't want to leave your soft cunny, but he had to: work needed to be worked, formal dinners and parties needed to be attended. When he had to check and correct various reports, Childe made you sit on his lap, burried his dick deep inside your pussy. Your heated cunt was the best stress-relief for Childe, and you were always happy to make him feel better.

• You were afraid to have sex with Ajax at first: your mother instructed all the brides in Morepesok how to make their first time less painfull, but didn't have a chance to explain it to you. You married him in a four days, too fast even for Morepesok! By the tradition you spent these days with his family. Childe's mother was surprised a little but still sweet and caring. His father was cold with you at first, suspected that Ajax made you pregnant accidentally and took you as his wife because he had no other choice. You simply smiled to him all the time: Ajax explained you every possible scenario that would happen if you won't keep silent. But the way you were babysitting Teucer melted his father's heart.

Teucer and you got along splendidly. Ajax enjoyed watching you playing with his little brother, at the same time he wanted nothing, but to breed your tight cunt with his seed, make you bear his own children. His patience deserved a medal: these four days was the hardest for him. When you told him, that you had never had a sex before he made his best not to groan in irritation.

Arousal burnt Childe from inside. His kisses were deep and hungry but something clicked in his brain — wave of pride hit him, primal instincts of a cruel hunter rose up. You were laying naked, defenseless and shy like a little doe, tried to cover your beautiful body from him. He caressed you cheek, while kissing your lips, made you open your mouth then slowly spitted his viscid saliva. It was strange, but you liked it, found it exciting.

'C'mon girlie, don't be shy,' Childe traced his fingers from you neck down to your hardened nipples, 'touch yourself for me, show me how you fucked this lovely pussy with your fingers.'

'I didn't... it hurts,' you closed your eyes, dying out of shame.

'I'll help you then, but you owe me a good show later, doll.'

Childe chuckled to himself, started kissing your neck, eager to find all the right spots.

'Tickles!' you laughed involuntary, tried to push him away. He didn't stop, bit your skin to calm you down, but made you squirm and giggle even more.

You fell silent when he placed a soft kiss on your chest, licked a nipple, before taking it in mouth and sucking slowly. His hand went down to tease your clit, a moan escaped your lips when he began to rub it with circular motions. It was enough to make you wet, but not enough to satisfy Childe. He kissed your tummy, forced your thighs apart, ignoring a feeble protest from your side.

'I thought you don't want to get hurt, doll,' he opened your pussy with his fingers, pressed one on the entrance to check how wet you were.

He spitted on your clit and let his saliva flow down right to the entrance to make it easier for his tongue to slide between your folds. You didn't last for long: he licked and sucked your pussy, moaning with you. Before your orgasm he slid a digit inside, stroking your walls at the same pace with his tongue. You tried to push him out, but Childe covered your pussy with his lips and replaced a digit with a tongue to taste your cum. You didn't have time to catch your breath: he stuffed you with two of his fingers to ease the discomfort of penetration while your insides were still fluttering from pleasure.

Childe couldn't wait more: his aching erection craved for attention; he pulled out his fingers and licked them before letting you clean with your tongue.

'You're pretty good at sucking, dolly,' Childe laughed softly. 'C'mon, on your knees.'

Once you placed your face near his crotch, he pulled his dick out of shorts. Your eyes rounded in shock: you didn't expect him to be this big.

'Your cute expressions make me wanna ruin you, baby.'

He placed his hand on the back of your head and gave you instructions on what to do. You started to lick the tip with small kitten licks, teasing little dot of urethral opening, then kissed it before taking it inside your mouth. You sucked slowly, afraid to hurt Childe with your teeth. He pushed your head, making you take more. You choked, moved away, let go of his dick, and then caughed.

'Sorry,' you started with licking again, traced every vein with your tongue, pressed on them carefully. Your hand reached down to your pussy as you began to stroke yourself. Your breath turned heavy, and mouth squeezed around his dick, making Childe throw back his head.

'That's right dolly, you're doing so well,' you felt how pride was taking your heart with his praising. You let Childe cum inside, swallowed his seed to please him. 'So eager to be my cum dump?'

Your cheeks flushed.

'Still such an innocent baby,' he patted your head and gave you a deep, loving kiss. Again you were laying under him; you reached your hand to touch him, and he leaned in response so you could place it on his cheek. Shivers covered your body; you jerked, and all of your muscles clenched.

'I'm sorry, baby, I promise it will be no pain soon... just relax, okay?' Childe moaned, trying to supress his urge to fuck your tight hole right now. 'I know a woman has to suffer very unpleasant things. Just try for me, babydoll, try for our future kids. I'll make up for your pain, you know you can always believe me.'

He started kissing your lips, trying to distract you, but you recognized these beautiful ginger locks, the way he cared your body in his arms, and this sweet feeling of being stretched inside. You didn't know how you should react, but there was no fear or disgust. Yes, he made you his by threatening you at first and he was a man from your dream, a King of the cursed souls, but he was so gentle with you, so loving and tender, like a puppy. You loved him. But maybe you just lost your mind?

Childe's moves were slow and careful. Only after your permission he got more rough and faster, his thumb was massaging your clit to give you more pleasure. He didn't stop kissing you, his lips touched your face and neck to show you his appreciation. Childe grabbed your hips, went deeper, before cumming inside your pussy, marking your walls with his seed.

'So good, babydoll, you are so good,' Childe pressed a final kiss to your lips. 'Such a soft place for my seed. I'm blessed with you.'

• Aftercare was important for Childe. He wanted to cuddle with you after and tell you sweet nothings. Needed water? He brought you not only the bottle but your favorite snacks, too. He loved covering your body with hickeys, but if he accidentally bruised you, he got scared. He treated you like you were made of glass, a fragile statuette: of course, you were a future mother for his kids. Smart, brave, beautiful, with big kind heart: a perfect candidate. He knew you would be an ideal mother, and you deserved only adoration and tenderness.

• You took Teucer and Anthon to the city every weekend. Tartaglia spent enough money to entertain them: bought them new toys, sweets, fine clothes, and lots of other things you didn't even know had existed. Circus performances, amusement parks, and fairs were your usual program for the weekend. Sometimes Tonia joined your big company, and on these days, you and Tonia also visited bookstores and handicraft shops. You were happy for his little siblings, and the view of Ajax looking after his family made your heart melt in joy.

• Of course, he had never forgotten about his dove! Childe took you on every dinner party for Fatui's Harbingers. He pridefully introduced you to his colleagues, kept his arm on your waist, patting your curves whenever he wanted. For every dinner, Childe bought you a new outfit. He couldn't allow his queen to wear the same dress twice. You were free to choose his style, too, if you wanted. He loved matching outfits and got touched every time you came up with the idea of pairing clothes. He was so obsessed towards you, and everyone knew that he would kill everyone who was dare to touch you without his permission. He didn't leave you in public; you were always in his company. In rare cases he could leave you on Tonia. If someone flirted with you, Childe just laughed to himself. It wasn't your fault that you were such a beautiful doll. Your kindness had always played against you: no matter how hard you tried to get rid of a noisy person, they had never listened to you, but Ajax was here for you to fix that.

• You told Childe about your powers, and he gladly accepted your blood as a sacred gift. At first you mixed your blood with his drinks, but then he started to lick it from your cuts: fresh and tasty. He drank it only before dangerous missions to calm you down: he trusted his power and didn't need an enhancer, but you were so frightened that you didn't even want to let him go or insisted on being his partner and fight with him; Childe worshipped you like his saint defender. With your blood on his lips, he felt much stronger, ready to conquer the Archons. As you were everything good and sacrosant for him, Childe became everything dreadful and unhallowed to protect you, his angel.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe x reader smut #yandere childe #childe x fem!reader #childe x you #genshin x reader #SoundCloud

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 3 years ago

Note

Sending you love, and the sentiments below 😘😘😘

#MadameCultLeaderAppreciation 🤩

Hehe

Little Things

Warning: NSFW, knife kink, a bit of blood, smut.

A/N: forgive my typos

"Well?" He asks, blood seeping from his hairline, down his forehead.

"You gonna kill me? Or keep me for my good looks?"

You roll your eyes.

"You're in no position to be using your mouth this much." You say, pressing your knife to his cheek, slipping it down to his jaw.

"I'm in the perfect position." He says easily, tilting his head, his eyes drifting down to the tops of your thighs, barely covered by your black mini skirt. "The perfect position to see how wet you are for me under that skirt."

You growl and step back.

"Aw, don't be like that...look-" he licks his lips, "Why don't we call this a truce, I won't try to kill you, and you won't try to kill me."

He shrugs his shoulders, as best he can with his arms tied behind his back, "You don't even have to let me go. Just-" he pins you with a shit-eating grin, "Just lift that skirt and come sit on my cock and we'll call it even."

You suck in an angry breath at his suggestive words. Truth is, he was getting to you, especially considering the things you were doing before you'd tied him up, seducing him into coming back to your place, kissing him hard in the back of the Uber you took to get you here. The way his hands had snaked over your breast under your shirt, thumbing at your nipple until they were stiff and swollen. His tongue dipping into your mouth and the way his hot breath hit the roof of your mouth when he moaned.

You blink, sighing angrily and moving to check the locks on your apartment door.

"You have something of mine, and you're not leaving here until you tell me where it is."

"Mm, you're gonna have to be more specific than that, princess, I got a lotta stuff from a lotta people."

You scowl, turning back to him. You take long, angry steps until the tip your knife is pressed to his bottom lip. He smiles, tongue dipping out to catch on the tip. You watch a small amount of blood bloom from the tiny scratch on his tongue.

"A drive, with documents on it. A drive that can hurt a lot of people in the wrong hands."

His smile widens.

"Am I the wrong hands?" He asks sweetly, and you clench around nothing in response, your frown deepening at your body's response to him.

"I'll kill you before I let that happen."

A low laugh this time.

"Why don't you check my pockets, baby, maybe you'll find something you like."

You suck in a breath of excitement, sheathing your knife to begin patting the sides of his thighs. You feel a couple of items, his phone, wallet, keys and you begin fishing them out. You sigh in frustration when you realise how deep his pockets are, moving to the side of him to put your hand in. You can feel his stiff thigh, and his legs spread a little wider to give you more space to search.

"Maybe the other side." He suggests, and you eagerly follow his directive.

Your mouth drops open when instead of finding a flash drive, your fingers wrap around the outline of his cock.

You gasp and pull away, angrily walking to the window of your place. His laughter follows you.

"That's the only thing I have that you're gonna get, baby, and I'll give it to you for however long and however slow you want."

Fuck it, is the last coherent thought you have before you turn back to him.

You're slipping your underwear down your thighs before you can second guess yourself.

"You talk," you begin, balling your underwear up and shoving it against his lips. His eyes are defiant for a second before he parts his lips. "Way too fucking much." You say, shoving the damp material into his mouth. He closes his mouth around it, and you realise it wasn't that much material in the first place.

You straddle his thighs next, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper. Reaching into his boxers, you grip his hard length and pull him out slowly.

He groans.

"This what you wanted Mister Russo? Hmm? Wanted a pretty girl to stroke your cock?"

He hisses when your thumb drags over his tip.

"Mmmmm, can't say a fucking word now can't you?" You tease, shifting your hips up so that his cock rubs on your clit.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction. You look down when something touches your hand, your underwear, damp with his saliva and your wetness. You push the material off you.

"Fuck yes baby, put me inside, come on, come on..." he grunts in frustration when you move your hips away, continuing to stroke him.

"The drive, Mister Russo. Where is it."

He pins you with his obsidian gaze.

"Come on my cock and I'll tell you."

You sigh, giving a shake of your head, letting the tip of his cock circle your clit, before pulling back again.

He groans, throwing his head back, fighting his restraints.

"Come on baby, don't be like that, I know how fucking wet you are for me and I want you around me."

"You know what I want." You respond simply, continuing to tease him by spreading your wetness over the tip of his cock. Lifting your fingers to push the remnants of your arousal into his mouth. He sucks on them greedily, his tongue swirling over your fingers.

"I know you've been thinking about my cock from the moment you saw me." He says, eyes boring into yours.

"If you give me a chance, I'll give you everything you want. Everything. USB included. My cock. My tongue. My thigh. My belt. Whatever you need, I'll give it to you."

The corner of your mouth lifts.

"It's that easy huh?" You ask.

He blinks in surprise, realising how whipped he'd sounded.

"How about a game then." He backtracks, "The drive is in a safe in my apartment, I'll give it to you if you can walk all the way there when I'm done with you."

Knowing that he doesn't live that far away, you nod your head with a smile, underestimating the man in front of you.

"Deal."

You start simply, guiding him to your entrance, keeping him there for a frustrating second, rubbing his tip against your slit. He hums lowly when you take a breath, letting him slip a little into you. A slight hiss of pain, and his forehead bumps into yours, grabbing your attention.

"Relax baby, take a slow breath in, and sink down."

You do as he says, trying to ignore the pinch of pain as your vagina protests his size with little prep work.

"Oh, good girl. That's it. Take me all in."

You moan at his words.

You move a little too slowly for his liking, but he still likes it. Keeps his eyes on you while you seat yourself on him, a wrinkle in your eyebrow showing that you're in a little discomfort.

"If you didn't tie me up, I'd have made you come on my tongue first. Then my fingers. By the time you were getting my cock, you'd have been ready to take me."

"Can't have-ahh- everything you want, Mister Russo."

"Yeah? Says who?"

You were good at taking him by surprise, but you were shit at knots, and he couldn't wait to let you know that after you make yourself come for the first time on his cock. He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you realise you were going to lose.

Sometimes it was the little things that gave Billy the most joy.

#ask #billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x reader #my writings #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo smut

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atherix · 2 years ago

Note

Atherix. My good friend Atherix.

This was supposed to be me commenting about my thoughts on the last three chapters of Midnight Alley, but then as I was going to fact-check something from a past fic (Midnight Miseries) I had a sudden brainwave connected it to my half-brewed theory for the "why is Midnight Alley ancient when Grian is still alive and remembers growing up there?" mystery, and suddenly that took over instead.

So I would like to share that theory here today. I bring you: The Gri-incarnation theory. (Note: most of this is copied from me explaining it to people on discord, I’ve just edited for typos etc.)

So obviously after the "Midnight Alley is a ruin" revelation I have been wondering what was up with that. At first, I thought maybe the force of him killing those watchers had rapidly aged it.

However, I think at this point we have enough of evidence to suggest Grian's memories of Midnight Alley are from another time to just consider that canon even if it has not been explicitly stated yet. Just looking at Chapter 9 of Midnight Alley we got this exchange

"I didn't think even an enchanted book could last thirty thousand years," he barely breathes, and Scar looks at him, blinking.

“Thirty- no, no time,” Scar whispers frantically, and amazingly the bone-like structure three feet from them doesn’t start shrieking at his words.

Scar reacts with disbelief to Grian telling him how long ago the time of the Ancients was. Later when Grian questions the differences between the Tome of the Watchers he grew up with and the one he got from Scar, Scar suggests that “The Bibles are probably different,” because “That’s just what time does. Pantheons change.”.

This to me says that Scar has realised Grian is not from the present. Then I began to consider the more obvious time travel-related/adjacent options. Grian travelled in time, he was in stasis for a while, Midnight Alley itself was inside a time bubble and Grian leaving broke that and time caught up with it, etc. But then Chapter 9 of Midnight Alley happened and it included a line that made me look in a complete different direction.

When Grian is dead and in the Void talking to the Watcher the two have the following exchange:

Watcher: Do you want to save them? Grian: Yes Watcher: Many times we have been here, and many times I have asked this question. Many times you have not been ready. At last, at last, you are ready. Your people need you, Watcher-god. Every shadow and every light needs its sun.

"Many times we have been here before" with the here being Grian's death in the Void.

Now let's tie that to something else that happened while Grian was in the Void.

When he grabs the being’s hand, it’s like grabbing molten glass; it melds to his skin, burning and agony, yet familiar- familiar, like an old friend. Familiar and safe, like some long lost, long forgotten part of himself. [...] [I]t’s him, always been him.

Based on those two quotes I have the following hypothesis:

Grian the mortal isn't real, he's just a constructed identity for the Watcher, who has been reincarnated as a mortal over and over again. It is not that Grian has a Watcher living in his head, but rather there is a part of his own self that has been locked away. The one he killed in midnight Alley didn't possess him because he was already a Watcher when that happened.

Here is where I see two different paths this could take:

Grian has reincarnated several times as a mortal and Midnight Alley happened to him in a past life. He remembers that particular past life because he encountered other Watchers and awakened his Watcher powers in life when he killed them.

It happened in the Void, and the version of Grian’s backstory that has been presented to us is just a lie that was planted in Grian's head as an allegory for actual events.

For the first option:

If we look at the way Grian has described his time in Midnight Alley something that stands out to me is the fact that he mentioned how he was able to notice and see things no one else seemed to pick up on even as a child.

The Watchers in Midnight Alley even said he was someone with the potential to become a god. Grian believes they lied, but clearly that isn't true.

Grian talks about his dreams being like memories, and one thing he has noted several times is that his dreams are always in black & white and sepia (with two exceptions). Maybe those are past lives, and describing them that was is a literary device to bring to mind old photographs of people from the past? Grian has had prophetic dreams twice - in the two lifetimes where he was exposed to Watchers. The rest of the time he dreams in a way that other people (Mumbo, Pearl) consider odd, because he is seeing memories of his past lives.

I think it is very possible that exposure to the Watchers would make his Watcher side come out more. This ties to the "The Watchers are now in Boatem" part of my grand theory. If they really are in Boatem then being exposed to them now could be why his Watcher side is getting stronger again.

(On why I believe the Watchers are in Boatem, and why i think it is linked to the Warden as well)

Looking back to Midnight Misunderstandings, Scar explains the history of Boatem thusly:

The Boatem settlers were religious people, believing they could find their Pantheon by digging down. Rumor has it the Boatem Hole leads to the Void - which is where the Observatory is. Grian, known Godling, sees eyes in the Boatem Hole.

We know that the Watchers are a more obscure Pantheon these days

It is rumoured that the Boatem Hole leads all the way down to the Void, and Scar believes this to be true.

We as minecraft players know that the Void is at the bottom of the world, but I would like to propose that the people of Boatem thought so for another reason: They were Observants, following the tenets of the Watcher's Tome. And what is spoken about extensively in the Tome? What was recently described as Void Fog in Midnight Alley? The Warden and its Shadows!

Honestly, had it not been for the fact that the Boatem settlers are specifically from across the sea I might have suggested they were originally from Midnight Alley. However I think instead they are the descendants of people who left Midnight Alley and the idea of "the Warden and the Void Fog is underneath our home" became warped into "The Void is at the bottom of the world" over time.

The other option I see for the Reincarnation thing is this:

What happened to Grian - the Midnight Palace, killing those Watchers, etc - did not actually happen in Midnight Alley at all, but rather in the Observatory. The memories Grian has of those times were once he put in his own head when he first reincarnated as a mortal to give him a backstory that would always shape him into being Grian.

(Midnight Alley is obviously a real place. But looking at the information on different cultures version of the afterlife we get in Midnight Miseries, I have the following line of reasoning: The Watchers are in the Void. The Void is Eternity. Many cultures believe souls pass into Eternity after death. Therefore dead avians from Midnight Alley could be in the Void and could have been somehow accessible to Grian as a Watcher and he could have learned about Midnight Alley as a place through them and used it in his own fake backstory.)

I still believe he has reincarnated over and over again. Perhaps being mortal is something he did to hide from the wrath of other Watchers after he killed those three? Or maybe it's his punishment for doing so?

In the new chapter of Midnight Alley we get this exchange about Grian's missing nestmates:

“I suppose- three rambunctious kids, finding that place...” He laughs, borderline manic. “They didn’t stand a chance.”

“They didn’t find that place, Grian,” Scar tells him, quiet and hesitant, and Grian looks at him.

I would like to propose: When Grian didn't get overwhelmed by the Watcher inside him Scar realised that Grian must have been a Watcher all along. Why do I say this? Because here is how Scar explained what would happen to Grian when the Watcher inside of him awakens:

Scar realises that since the Watcher did not overwhelm Grian he must have already been a Watcher when it happened.

Which ties together two loose ends for me:

1) Why does Scar know the missing nestmates weren't in the alley?

He knows that because he realised none of this happened in Midnight Alley. When they went into a chasm and didn't return that wasn't really them falling, that was a metaphor for them either being cast out or them choosing to leave to live as mortals.

2) Who is Jiimmy and why does he know about Watchers?

See above! He is one of the former nestmates, living as a mortal. This is why he can tell Grian how to Watch and how he knows what's happening (and how he can fly to Midnight Alley in a couple of hours - four wings baby)

There’s one last piece of the puzzle, that explains to me why the Watcher part of Grian is finally ready to wake up. I was explaining it to @Loombarrow and she called my attention to this line from the latest chapter of Midnight Alley:

"Every shadow and every light needs its sun"

So hear me out…

Sun - Grian Shadow - Mumbo Light - Scar

I think it could honestly be sort of like a reincarnation soulmate au? I think the thing that’s enabled him to become the Watcher now is the fact that he has them both.

I am going to make a little bit of a leap here and link this to your other fic Hands in Fate. There are other similarities in the worldbuilding of the two so I would like to suggest that there could be one here as well.

It may not be the same to the letter, but what if Grian being a god is what makes him have fated soulmates in the first place? And what if finally finding them is what makes this life different from all of the other time Grian has been reincarnated?

In Midnight Miseries Mumbo and Scar talk about how Grian’s presence in Boatem and in their lives has changed the course of events.

Maybe he really is pulling them to him through fate? Because as a god he has… like a gravitational pull to his soulmates.

And they’ve met in previous lives, but never all three of them at once? So they never got it right before, but this time they finally found and accepted each other. They’re all three together. The shadows and the light have each other and they have their sun.

And it explains some other things too. How can Scar exist as a half-human, half-elf when that is supposed to be impossible? How did Mumbo get shadow powers - something that was already unlikely for a Turned vampire to have, and unheard of to develop as late as he did? Because they were fated to. Because they were already being drawn in by their sun.

(Answering asks from chapter 9, not the latest chapter)

God, I want everyone to know I LOVE hearing about theories!! I know I said this on discord already but you definitely are on the right track with some of this. I can't say which parts are right of course, and some of them have been answered in chapter 10 (maybe it's a good thing you're saving your thoughts lol!) so <3

Thank you for sharing this with me bc I was dying of curiosity when Stitch was telling me about this in the most vague ways possible <3 Paragraphs of redacted text in screenshots LMAO-

#ask #Midnight Series #Friend has a theory!#GUYS I LOVE HEARING THEORIES #Even if they're not correct or not 100% correct they're super fun and give way to really cool ideas and AUs #so feel free if you like to show me your theories I adore them! <3 #Also sorry my response is so short I'm not wanting to comment on specific parts just in case I give anything away hjkfgdjk

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like for suggesting the backstory thing!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene || Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈 Find your solemate!

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer.

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already.

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message!

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you.

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you.

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact.

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo.

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh.

“Okay, what now?”

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge.

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing.

It never comes.

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards.

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack.

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement.

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?”

He stares at you.

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that.

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long.

Fuck, he really had only one option.

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him.

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference.

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath.

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition.

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation.

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

“I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?”

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated.

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it.

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it.

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.”

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips.

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by.

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?”

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion.

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects.

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.”

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead.

Fucking finally.

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place.

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight.

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam.

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming.

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him.

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly.

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you.

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious.

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment.

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.”

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying.

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles.

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.”

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles.

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm.

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.”

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified.

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground.

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below.

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient.

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes.

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.”

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand.

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally.

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly.

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.”

“See you there.” Sam nods.

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure.

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business.

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that?

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all.

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry.

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available.

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly.

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?”

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued.

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour.

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.”

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb.

Tony has an idea.

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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arvinsescape · 3 years ago

Text

Choices.

A/N: Another Mob!Tom fic, a longer one. It’s another darker one and I hope you all enjoy! Do not engage if the topics make you uncomfortable 💕 (side note: I managed to get switch!Tom in there).

Summary: You become the product of someone’s torture and now you have to decide what you want.

Warnings: Smut (oral, f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe), Violence, blood, injuries, bruises, language, misogynistic views. Minors do not engage. I think I got everything, possibly a few typos.

W/C: 8K.

The sound of skin-on-skin contact resonated through the halls, the sting in your cheek burning as Caleb shook the sting from his own hand.

“What did he do with my shipment?” Caleb hissed as he crouched down so he was eye level with you.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, when he finds out what you’ve done, he’s gonna kill you.” You said, probably a stupid thing to say as it earned you yet another smack to your already bruised cheek.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’re tougher than you look. Shame you think you’re worth more to him, he’s known for the last twelve hours I’ve had you and he’s done nothing.” Caleb laughed as he stood to full height.

“Bullshit.” You hissed and Caleb laughed.

“Oh come on, you don’t think men like us put women above our businesses do you? More women like you will come along, more cunts to keep our cocks warm. Let’s be real, that’s really all you are and ever will be to him.” He laughed and you winced at the harshness, maybe he was right. He wasn’t here, wasn’t here to help you.

“Now,” he announced as he made his way over to a table, taking a hammer off it. “I’ve quite frankly grown bored. Tell me what he did with the shipment, tell me where it is.” He said, he was yet again in front of you. He’d taken your hand in his and if your wrist wasn’t roped down to the chair you’d have slapped him.

“You have quite dainty little fingers.” He said as he stroked over them. “Shame I’m going to have to break a few.” He said and you felt defeated, utterly defeated.

“I don’t know what he did.” You answered in a breathy whisper. “He doesn’t get me involved.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, you knew he’d stolen the shipment just not how.

“Given up? I would to, must be disappointing.” He laughed again as he crouched down to your level, stroking your sweaty hair out of your face, running a thumb harshly over the bruise on your cheek. “Maybe he hasn’t even noticed you’ve gone, that spot you occupy in his bed probably isn’t cold, already filled.” He taunted and you felt the tears fall.

“Just let me go. I can’t help you.” You said, your heart was broken. He knew you were here, and he’d done nothing. Maybe it was all bullshit, maybe he didn’t love you like he said he did.

“But we’re having so much fun.” He said as he stood up again. “I know you know something, you must, you sauntered around that mansion enough.”

“I don’t.” You said, completely defeated now.

“Tell you what, you can serve as a lesson, I’ll give you back to him. Since you can’t help and show him what happens to his stuff when he messes with mine.” He said and you succumbed to the tears.

Tom was panicking he’d not seen you all day, you’d gone out for lunch and now he couldn’t get a hold of you. His mind was racing, he’d sent all of his staff out to find you and no such luck, it was like you’d disappeared into thin air. He was pacing his office, running a hand through his hair when he heard it. Three loud knocks to his mansion’s door. He hastily made his way downstairs, Harrison in tow.

As soon as he opened the door, a body collided with his own. He only just caught it in time, the body almost limp in his arms. It took his brain a moment to catch up as he realised just who it was that had been thrust into chest.

“Caleb sends his regards.” A man laughed and Tom felt frozen. How had this happened? Not you, not his precious princess. Tom watched as the man disappeared, Harrison giving chase.

It was your small fist on your right hand that grasped his shirt that brought him back to reality, he picked you up, one arm around your back, the other in the crook of your knees as you winced in pain.

“I’m sorry princess.” He mumbled as he took in your features, you looked so tired, bruised cheek. Tom felt his anger rise, Caleb should count his days lucky because when Tom found him it would be the last day he spent on Earth. He took you into your shared room, placing you carefully on the bed as he took in the rest of you. The outfit you’d worn that day was dirty but still intact, your wrists were raw, evidence of the rope that had tied them down, the same with your ankles.

You had bruises almost everywhere, face tear stained. You were half awake, weak as you fluttered your eyes occasionally before closing them again. Tom sat with you on the bed for a while, thinking about his next move, of all the ways he was going to torture Caleb for doing this to you. He heard commotion downstairs and knew Harrison had caught whoever had brought you back to him.

Tom didn’t leave you, he knew Harrison would take over, bring the men back and make sure whoever he’d caught was dealt with until Tom could deal with it. Harrison was his right-hand man, one of his most trusted advisors. Tom looked down at you, moving stray strands of hair from your face, he almost cried at the sight.

He kept a hand on your chest, evidence you were alive. He brought his lips to your forehead as he kissed it, a tear making its way down his cheek. You didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t protect you, he failed at the one thing he’d promised to himself. It wasn’t long before your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

You took in Tom as you opened your eyes, he looked tired, upset as he held a hand to your chest, hair a mess and those brown eyes had seemingly lost their usual spark. You looked at him, no energy to speak. He’d left you, didn’t come for you when you wanted him to, you briefly remember begging for him, pieces of the beating you’d taken coming back in flashes. You’d lost consciousness through parts, the pain too much.

“Hey Princess.” He breathed out, voice soft, quiet. It almost sounded like there was an ounce of care in there, but you must be delusional. You just looked at him and he sighed before disappearing. You didn’t really wonder where he’d gone, what he was doing, you were thinking about how to get yourself home, away from this and away from him.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you again, you were too tired to fight with him as he took you to the bathroom, stripped you of your clothes and put you into the bath. The first bath you had was to get rid of the dirt, Tom ever so carefully washing your body and hair, it almost had you fooled into thinking he cared. He’d fooled you for almost two years now though.

He almost cried again as he took in the bruising that was all over your body, he took your left hand into his own and you winced, almost crying out in pain. He studied your hand, as if in some sort of mocking he took in the bruising of your left finger, the one he intended to place a ring on. He could tell just by looking at it that it was broken. He whispered out an apology, he needed to call his personal doctor to come and see you.

He lifted you again, carefully, before running a second bath, placing you in there, probably hoping the hot water would relax your tired muscles. It was silent, the only sounds being your winces, Tom’s quiet apologies and his soft kisses to your skin. Tom was the first to properly break the silence.

“I’m so sorry princess.” He said softly and you wondered how this man, your Tom could have left you like that, left you to die for all he knew. You didn’t speak, too tired for an argument with him. He sighed as he sat with you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you got lost in your own thoughts.

Your gut was telling you it couldn’t be true, your Tom wouldn’t have left you like that, he’d have come for you if he’d known but your head was full of the things Caleb had said. Full of the doubt he’d put there, the doubt that Tom loved you at all, that he felt anything for you. You felt more tears slip down your cheek as you hastily and angrily tried to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Tom said as he lowered himself to take you into his arms. Your good but wet hand fisting the dry fabric of his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here.” He repeated as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m gonna take you to bed okay? I won’t leave you, not tonight.” But he already had hadn’t he? He’d left you with Caleb, maybe you were just a good fuck, and he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone else now that you were back.

He lifted you for the last time out of the bath, draining it as he stood you on your feet, wrapping a towel around your fragile frame. Rubbing his hands along your arms in an attempt to help you dry off. You didn’t fight him as he placed a shirt, his shirt, over your head, helping you get into bed. Everything about him was so soft in this moment, so gentle, it made it hard to believe what he’d done tonight or on the contrary, what he’d not done.

Tom’s doctor came and left, securing your finger, whatever he said to Tom was drowned out by your own thoughts. You tuned back in to hear the doctor say that your bruises were okay, you were going to be okay. But that was lie, you weren’t okay, far from it, not emotionally at least.

You fell asleep that night, hand fisted into his shirt, it was keeping you grounded, reminding you that you were here, with Tom, in his room, not back there. It was a reminder you weren’t dreaming. Tom held you until you fell asleep, coaxing your not broken fingered hand to interlace with his own, you knew you were probably grasping his hand too tight, but you needed to keep yourself anchored, stop yourself falling apart. You were tired and in no mood to fight and being here with Tom was a far better alternative than being back there with Caleb.

Tom was drifting into his own sleep when your scream jolted him awake, probably woke the whole mansion. Your body suddenly moving from his own as you became completely unsettled, face contorting in pain. Tom was quick to move as he tried to wake you, dodging your flailing arms, he took them in his hands, careful of your finger, pinning them above your head.

“Princess, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Tom, it’s just me. You’re safe.” He repeated as he watched your eyes snap open and meet his, he was shocked to see the rage in them.

“Get off me.” You screamed at him, and he did, instantly, releasing you from his hold as he sat up, you sitting up onto your knees as you looked at him.

“Princess, it’s okay, calm down.” He reassured as he carefully went to take your hand in his, you slapped it away and stood up off the bed.

“Stay away from me, Tom. I want to go home.” You snapped and he stood from the bed as well. He heard a knock at the door, ignoring it.

“Baby, you are home.” Tom was utterly confused at your turn towards him, you looked so angry, so hurt with him and he couldn’t understand it. He’d spent all day looking for you, used every resource he had to try. He made his way towards you again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

He watched as you cried again, falling into his chest, you were tired, confused, that much he could tell. Like you were fighting an internal battle with yourself, one he knew nothing about, and it was frightening him, your sudden anger towards him setting him on edge. He heard a knock on his door again and bit back his anger, for your sake.

“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it in the morning.” Tom snapped, hands moving to cover your ears as not to startle you. You suddenly moved, ripping yourself from his grip as you looked at him wildly.

“You left me.” You said and Tom looked confused, he felt confused.

“What, princess, I don’t know what you mean.” He said calmly.

“Bullshit. You left me and you know you did. Why is it you keep me around? A good fuck? The minute my life is in danger, you do nothing. You really had me fooled.” You ranted as you paced the room and Tom felt more confused than he ever had in his life. Left you? He would never, had he known where you were, he’d have come straight for you.

“I didn’t leave you princess, I promise. You know me, I love you. You know I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe.” He said as he carefully approached your figure, stopping your pacing and forcing you to look at him, tears streaming down your beautiful face again. You looked at him almost desperately, like you wanted to believe what he was saying but couldn’t.

“I, Tom. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I don’t want to believe that you left me, but you did. How do I know that what you’re saying isn’t bullshit?” You spoke, voice broken, and Tom almost cried again.

“If I’d have known where you were, I’d have come for you. You know me, Y/N, you know me.” He said sincerely.

“I want to believe you but I can’t. Caleb said-“

“Whatever he said was bullshit, baby, you know me. You know I’d move the world for you.” He said as he stroked your hair.

“I need to get away.” You spoke and you looked at him, you were begging him not to argue with you. “I need to think.” You said and it was so desperate that Tom couldn’t deny you, you needed it and he’d give it to you.

“Okay baby, I’ll let you go. Wherever you want, but tonight please just stay here and I’ll take you where you want to go tomorrow.” He pleaded and he watched you fight an internal battle with yourself, he knew what you were thinking. He knew you were thinking that if you spent the night in bed with him, you were scared you’d wake up tomorrow and all will be forgiven. Tom’s heart tore in two as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ll sleep next door. If you need anything that’s where I’ll be.” He said as he kissed your forehead and made his way out of the room.

It was 5 o clock in the morning when the door opened in one of his spare rooms, a body colliding with his own as it clung to him. He didn’t fight you when you climbed on top of him, wrapping yourself in him. His heart hammered in his chest, he was conflicted, you’d just asked, begged, for space and here you were making sure there wasn’t an inch of it.

You were on top of him, trying to pull his arms closer around you and he didn’t fight, not when he heard the small sigh leave your lips. He was careful not to hurt you as he placed his arms around your trembling figure on top of him.

“I just, I can’t. I need to feel safe.” You cracked voice reached his ears. He was conflicted, he knew this would have you feeling differently in the morning, but he couldn’t forget the pleading look in your eyes when you told him you needed space. He’d let you have this, give you what you needed tonight but tomorrow he had to let you go. As much as it would rip his heart out he had to let you go.

He held you, carefully as your breathing evened out in the crook of his neck. He was used to you wanting his touch but never like this, not this much. It was almost like you wanted to get inside him, wrap yourself completely in him, like you couldn’t get close enough. He did his best, did his best to make you feel covered and only when he heard your soft snores did he know that he’d been successful at making you feel safe.

“I love you so much.” He said as he held you and let his own tears fall.

He woke up and felt no weight on top of him, you’d moved. He thought you’d be downstairs and was shocked to see you sat cross legged on the bed next to him.

“I’m sorry about last night.” You said.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, what?

“I just, I couldn’t sleep without you.” You clarified and he nodded as he studied you carefully. He knew what was about to come, knew he needed to be a better man than he’d ever been in his life, for you. “I was thinking,” you started as you cleared your throat, although it did nothing for the croakiness of it. “Maybe we should talk.” You offered and his heart shattered, last night you were scared of it happening and it had.

He sat up as he rubbed his hands down his face, collecting himself because this was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He just couldn’t forget that begging in your eyes. The way you pleaded with him to let you go and in his mind this was the right thing to do. Be the man you’d begged him to be last night.

“You’re mind was pretty made-up last night.” He grumbled and he didn’t miss the way your eyes melted at his morning voice.

“I’ve had a chance to sleep.” You ran your uninjured hand through your hair as you shrugged.

“Y/N,” He hated using your name, he hardly ever used it but pet names? Not right now. “With me.” He continued and you furrowed your brows.

“So?” You huffed back.

“You begged me to let you leave last night.”

“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t sleep without you.” You said.

“Don’t do this to yourself, last night you wanted, no needed to leave, you told me so.”

“I was confused. Tommy,” that fucking nickname. “We can talk it out and I can stay here.” You were making this hard.

“I can’t. Y/N, you need let me do the right thing here, the right thing for you.”

“So you just want to leave me again?” You huffed out, anger rising on your ever beautiful features.

“Again? I told you last night that’s not what happened.” His voice still soft. “You need to clear your head and you and I both know you won’t do that when I’m here.” He reasoned, he knew you had to find a way to process this, and he knew what would happen if he let you stay.

He’d done his own thinking last night and he knew if he let you stay, if you allowed yourself to just get wrapped up in him instead of process what had happened to you and the cause of it, the cause being his lifestyle. He couldn’t do that to you, he needed to let you think even if that meant letting you go forever. He was ripping his heart out here and the look on your face was stomping it hard into the floor.

“But I don’t understand.” You whispered as you let a tear fall, Tom was quick to move and wipe it away, you caught his hand and brought it between your own.

“You will, you need to process this, need to think about what you really want. If you weren’t with me this never would have happened.” He said and you let out a choked sob, you knew he was right.

He’d moved you into a flat, well Harrison had moved your things in, Tom knew if he did it he’d become selfish and let you come home. Tom made sure it was secure, bought it in your name so you wouldn’t be attached forever if you decided to leave, it would be yours. He kept it safe but he stayed away, you’d been gone a week when you first called and out of instinct he answered.

“Tommy?” You sniffled down the line and he knew a nightmare had just woken you up.

“Y/N, this isn’t a good idea.” He warned softly.

“I know, I didn’t call you any of the other nights, but I just need to sleep.” You said and he sighed, running a hand over his face.

“What do you need?” He asked and he hoped you wouldn’t say what he thought you were going to, that would make it harder on both of you.

“Can you, I know you won’t come here and I can’t come there, can you just talk to me? Please?” You asked in a whisper and Tom couldn’t refuse.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He asked and he heard you sigh down the line.

“I don’t know, just anything.” You said and he heard you shuffle around presumably to get more comfortable.

That was the first of many phone calls, the two of them indulging themselves late at night when neither could sleep. Tom never called you, you always called him. He was becoming conflicted, he probably shouldn’t be doing this but he was too selfish.

“Tom?” You said and he knew that voice, already feeling blood rush downstairs. It’d been a while since he’d had any sort of relief.

“Y/N/N.” Tom groaned and he heard you giggle slightly, in that seductive way that could get him going at the most inconvenient times and you knew it. Yeah you were definitely horny and this wasn’t a call to help you sleep.

“Tom, I need you.” You panted down the phone at him and he threw his head back into his pillow.

“Y/N, no.” Tom said, firm tone and he heard you shuffle around and hoped to god you weren’t gonna start doing what he knew you were probably thinking. If he heard you moan that would be it, he’d drive over and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Come on, Tom don’t be a killjoy. You always want me.” You said and he heard you shuffle again.

“This isn’t a good idea.” He said, cursing himself for growing hard.

“Come on Tom, we’ve done it before.” You said and then he heard it, your little whimper that meant you’d probably touched your clit.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. He couldn’t let this escalate as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He heard you huff. “Please don’t.” He said.

“You don’t want to hear me take care of myself?” You tried again, a moan slipping down the phone.

“No.” Yes.

“Fine.” He heard you huff in defeat.

“We need to stop these phone calls, they’re not doing you any good.” He spoke, voice firmer than he thought it would be to say his dick was currently straining in his boxers.

“I don’t want to, I won’t, I’m sorry.” You stumbled over yourself.

“It’s not just about calling me for phone sex, it’s all of it, it’s not a good idea.” He said, he’d never gone soft as fast in his life, the atmosphere had changed massively. “Y/N/N,” he sighed. “I want you to stop calling me, until your head is clear I want you to stop calling me.” He said, voice soft and he heard your sharp intake of breath.

“Okay.” He heard you say after a while before you hung up.

That was two months ago, he knew you were okay, of course he did but he had had zero contact with you. You were slowly processing what had happened to you, thinking about what you wanted. No matter how many times you thought to yourself that Tom’s lifestyle wasn’t the reason you’d been practically tortured a bruise would remind you that if you weren’t with him it wouldn’t have happened.

It wasn’t until you went to bed that you realised how much you wanted him even if it wasn’t a good idea. He made you happier than anyone ever had, he cared, fuck did he care. He always wanted the best for you, you wanted to be angry at him for doing what he did but you couldn’t. Every time you took a branch of that anger it led you back to the same trunk, the same reason, he’d done it for you, been the better man for you.

Tom was a selfish man everyone knew that, if he wanted something it was his but with you? He couldn’t, he never had been. It made you realise that Caleb was wrong, he had to be, Tom hadn’t behaved like a man who used you to keep his dick wet. There was no way he could have faked that for so long. He was always faithful, not like half the men that rivalled him, he just wouldn’t do that to you.

You love him, that much is clear to you, the way he makes you feel and looks after you is something you know you’ll never have again and ultimately it’s what made your decision. Although you knew that what happened before could potentially happen again, you found yourself unable to care, Tom was it for you. You had to follow your heart, it couldn’t take the pain of being away from him but it didn’t mean you’d turn as much of a blind eye anymore.

You knew who the man was, who you wanted to be with, you wouldn’t be the naive girlfriend anymore, the one who pretended none of it happened. You had to take some responsibility yourself, toughen up, if you were going to be with him, you needed to toughen up and wake the fuck up. Realise how dangerous his world can be and if you were going to make yourself a part of that then you had to make some changes.

As long as you could have him the way you loved him behind closed doors then it was a risk you were willing to take. You couldn’t stop yourself as you brought up the contact you’d not used in two months.

In the two months since Tom had asked you to stop calling him he’d still not managed to find Caleb. Every lead was a dead end. He missed you. Missed everything about you, he took solace in the fact that he knew you were safe and probably healing. He found himself wishing you would call and he’d gotten so drunk one night that Harrison had had to take his phone from his hand to stop him calling you.

He lost hope daily that you were going to call him, that you were going to show up and realised you’d probably done the smart thing and decided not to have anything to do with him. It hurt him, truly it did but was he to do? Make you stay? He knew if he’d let you stay another couple of nights in his bed then you’d just consume yourself with him and not think about what you wanted.

His phone made him jump when it rang, he wasn’t used to this anymore, wasn’t used to seeing your contact pop up, not over the last two months. He almost declined the call until he thought about why you might be calling, you’d made no attempt to contact him in all this time, maybe you were ready to talk, maybe you’d cleared your head. His thumb swiped at the green button as he put it to his ear.

“Can you come over?” That was all he got, no explanation, nothing.

His fist banged on the door, you knew it was him, you knew immediately. You knew him like the back of your hand. You opened it and couldn’t help the small gasp that left your lips, was he trying to drive you insane? Those dress pants, white shirt tucked into his pants, rolled up sleeves? Fuck, he always looked like he was formed by the gods themselves.

“Hi darling.” He spoke and you couldn’t stop yourself as you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. It was nice to feel him hug you back, be back in those arms that did nothing but make you feel safe, at home.

“Hi.” You whispered as you pulled back and pulled him into your flat, he was yet to see it.

“Why the late-night call?” He asked.

“I wanted to see you.” You shrugged, licking your lips that had become dry just from looking at him. “I miss you.” You spoke honestly.

“I miss you too.” He said back so easily, no time to think about the words.

The atmosphere in the room felt thick, thick with tension, the last time you’d spoken to him you’d wanted him to help get yourself off and you grew aroused at the thought. Your fingers just didn’t quite cut it, nor did the vibrator. Nothing would feel as good as having Tom wedged between your legs as he fucked into you.

He looked at you like he was thinking the same thing, he’d always said his hand wasn’t as satisfying as your wet heat. You grew hotter the more you thought about it, the more you thought about him getting himself off to the memories of the two of you fucking, just like you’d been doing. He watched your every move ever so carefully, your bruising was now all healed, finger free from its bandages.

You looked like you again but you had a shine to you that Tom liked, you looked happier, almost healthier. Like you’d been properly taking care of yourself and he smiled, it was good too see you happy after his last memory of you. He cleared his throat after a moment and spoke.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not right now.” You answered as you approached him. “I did, but I don’t, not right now.” You rambled out as your mind became clouded with lust, it’d been so long since you’d had him, you’d not had anyone else, why would you? They wouldn’t give it to you like Tom would.

“Is this a good idea?” He asked quietly as he studied you, you didn’t say anything as you leant up to kiss him, tenderly, far more tender than you’d initially thought you were going to. You both sighed at the contact, you wanted him. He studied you for a moment, looking for a sign of regret and when he didn’t find it he captured your lips again.

This time a little more forcefully, but not by much. You kissed tenderly, carefully, almost like you were remembering each other, basking in the way one another felt against them again. You pushed your lips more forcefully against his and he groaned slightly as your hands weaved into his hair. It was still careful, neither wanting to overwhelm the other.

His hands found a firm place on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, lips growing slowly firmer until Tom’s tongue was tracing your bottom lip and you granted him access. You both moaned in pleasure as your tongues found each other’s after so long, neither of you forgetting how they almost danced together. The sound of your lips finally uniting being the only sound in the quiet flat.

It wasn’t long before Tom had picked you up, carefully, and your legs were wrapped around his waist as he carried you down the hallway and into your bedroom. Your kiss had grown much heavier along the way, your arousal for each other settling in properly as the only emotion left was lust, need for each other. You untucked his shirt as he carried you, hand trailing up his toned back.

His hand was carefully squeezing your waist, grabbing a handful of your arse every so often. You felt him harden against you and you knew he knew how wet you’d be for him when he took your shirts off. He kicked your bedroom door open and when he turned to shut it he pinned you against it.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He was the first to say as he placed kisses along your throat, your hand fisting in the back of his hair.

“Feels like it.” You spoke as you felt his hardened length again.

“Like you’re gonna be any better.” He teased and as if to prove his point he ran a hand up your thigh and into your shorts, running his finger through your folds. “So wet.” He hummed.

He moved you and placed you on the bed, something digging into your back as he did. You moved your hand around until you found whatever it was and when you pulled it out you heard Tom mutter a ‘fuck.’

“Not quite the same but it took the edge off.” You said as you threw it down the side of your bed.

“Thinking about me?” Tom asked as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Did you touch yourself? Thinking about how well I fuck you with my fingers, tongue, cock?” He asked as he took in your braless and now topless figure. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always.” You panted when he brought his mouth over your hardened nipple. He hummed in response and it sent vibrations through your entire being. It ignited you in a way it always had, in a way only he could.

“That’s fucking hot.” Tom said as he popped your nipple from his mouth and as you attempted to undo the buttons on his shirt. You grew frustrated when they wouldn’t play ball and sat up, Tom moving with you, he looked at you confused for a second before you quite literally grasped the middle of his buttons and ripped it off, buttons flying everywhere.

“Fuck me.” Tom said, never had he seen you so needy for him, so desperate. It was doing things to him he couldn’t explain, he didn’t have much time to think as you latched your mouth onto his neck and sucked. You knew exactly where his sweet spot was, not hesitating to suck, you moved his now open shirt off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. It wasn’t until you pulled back, eyes darker, completely consumed by lust that he realised what you’d done.

“Have you just left a mark?” Tom asked, almost astonished, it turned him on to no end. You just shrugged as you laid back on the bed, looking up at him and he swears he lost his dominant side for second. Completely in awe of you.

“Oh baby,” he didn’t miss your breath hitch at the nickname as he regained himself and crawled back on top of you. His own lips found the top of your breast, sucking his own mark onto it. “It’s cute, watching you try and take dominance from me, but we both know who’s in charge, don’t we darling.” He asked as he sat back to look at his handy work. He’d kicked his shoes off by now as he laid on top of you.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he chuckled, completely consumed by desire, the pair of you were by this point. His cock was throbbing for you and he knew you’d be clenching and unclenching around nothing, around the idea of him being inside you.

“What does my princess want? My fingers?” He asked as he made quick work of your shorts, placing a finger inside you that had you rolling your head back and moaning in pleasure. His kisses trailing down your body as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “My tongue?” He asked as he placed it carefully on your clit. Teasing you by halting all movements, watching you squirm as you tried to create friction. “Tell me baby.” He spoke before oh so slowly dragging his down your folds to meet his fingers and dragging it back up. You sat up to look at him between your legs, god the look on your face was something of pure pleasure in itself.

“All of it, Tom, I just want you.” You panted out and he chuckled as he moved his finger, carefully sliding in and out of you, mindful that it’d been a while and while he knew your own fingers had been inside you, your fingers were smaller than his.

“I suppose it’s been a while. Should fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, the way you’ve missed.” He said and before you could respond his tongue was back on your clit as he sucked and licked at it, watching, and groaning as you threw your head back, body arching off the bed as one hand fisted his hair and the other your bedsheets.

It wasn’t long before you were squirming beneath him as he added a second finger, opening you up for him, your body shaking as you neared your first mind blowing orgasm in almost three months. He could have blown his load just from watching you as you arched off the bed, screamed his name and tightened so well around his fingers as you came. Panting, body shaking as he helped you through it.

He expected you to be all fucked out when he climbed back on top of you, what he was not expecting was for your still just as lust blown and wild eyes looking into his own. You took him by surprise when you pushed him onto his back before climbing on top of him. You didn’t ride him often and when you did, it was never with so much confidence. It was like he’d awakened something primal in you and he fucking loved it.

You made light work of his pants and boxers, straddling him as you confidently took his cock into your hand and placed him inside you. He couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips at the feeling and also the sight. This was not what he was expecting as you placed your hands on his chest and moved your hips of your own accord.

You’d never been shy in bed, not when it came to being beneath him but every time he’d relinquish control and let you be on top you’d ask for his guidance. Not tonight, tonight you were using his cock to get yourself off and he loved it, loved the way it made him feel. He moaned as he gripped your hips, you’d taken control, he hadn’t given it and fuck if it made him almost finish inside you right there.

You moaned as you moved your hips, feeling every inch of him as the angle had him brushing that spot you’d not felt stimulated in a while and it made you almost scream his name as you fucked him. You wee both moaning, sweating and you expected Tom to take control back but he didn’t, he let you have all the control.

“So much for we both know who’s in charge Tommy.” You moaned and you expected a cocky response but none came, just a moan of your name. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You said as you felt your high approach, felt as you tightened around him and it only served to make you moved faster. Tom became something of a moaning mess underneath you, something you’d never seen before and that urged you on as you chased both of your highs.

“Just like that baby.” He said and your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt your orgasm fast approach. “Shit, Y/N/N, I’m gonna come.” Tom moaned and you don’t know what came over you, a feeling of pure power maybe, but you’re glad that it did.

“Come for me Tom.” You whispered, voice laced in lust and command as you placed your lips to his ear, leaning back to watch as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned uncontrollably, moaning profanities laced with your name. You’d never seen him like this, you felt powerful above him, the ever so powerful Tom Holland reduced to a moaning mess because of you. It urged you to finish chasing your high as you fucked him through his. You collapsed onto his chest, with an almost scream of his name as you felt euphoria wash over you.

“Fuck.” Was all Tom had to say when he came down from possibly one of the most explosive orgasms he’d ever had. He loved being in control he really did, but watching you like that? You could have the control whenever you wanted it.

“Yeah.” You mumbled against his chest as tiredness washed over you. He flipped you over whilst staying inside of you, carefully drawing himself out as he cleaned you both up. Whilst he was busy doing that it gave you time to realise just how much power you had over him. He could have easily taken back the control, shown you who was in charge and he didn’t not even when you practically dared him to.

He came back into the bed as he massaged your thighs that were now aching slightly. You shivered as he did, body feeling sensitive all over after your orgasms. You played with his curls as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Where did that come from?” He asked, amused tone.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly, you didn’t, maybe it was the fact that you’d not been able to have him for three months. Maybe it was the desire to hold power over him, even if just in bed, you weren’t sure but he’d woken something in you that you liked.

“I’m gonna have to let you take charge more often.” He laughed as he continued to massage your thighs, your hands still in his hair.

“How come you didn’t take it back? The control?” You had to ask.

“Didn’t want it, not then. Fuck, you looked you so hot. It did something to me, watching you use me to get yourself off, taking your own pleasure like that, fuck.” He said as he kissed your stomach.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be a sub now, I’ll miss you railing me into whatever surface we find ourselves on.” You laughed and he joined.

“No, but you can have the control, whenever you want it.” He spoke and it sounded so honest that your heart soared. Tom Holland did not give control to anybody, it wasn’t his style yet here he was telling you could have it whenever you wanted it. That’s how much he loved you, how much you were different to everyone else in his life. It solidified your decision.

“I want to come home.”

You’d worked things out between the two of you, a week’s worth of late nights and talking. You’d told him you wanted to be more involved, you didn’t want to shy away anymore, Tom was hesitant but agreed. You asked him to train you, make sure you could a least attempt to defend yourself, although that wasn’t going so well, every time he was teaching you one of you got distracted and you usually ended up underneath him.

Tom liked the change in you, you were tougher, more confident and he wondered what had brought the change. You were still the same woman he fell in love with, the same woman who was kind thoughtful and free but now? Now you weren’t afraid to speak your mind, you commanded a level of respect from his men now and he loved it. He loved everything about you and you him.

It was a month later when you both heard the commotion downstairs, you jolted up. Tom had only had to wake you from a couple of nightmares, they were seemingly leaving you, slowly but surely. Tom placed a hand on your arm, sitting up, your eyes frantically looked for his and calmed when they locked.

Tom got dressed as he made his way downstairs, he was shocked to see Harrison carrying the very man he’d spent just over four months looking for. He was struggling against Harrison but to no avail, Haz had a firm grip around the man’s arms.

“Found him, hiding out in some club.” Harrison spat as he threw the man down at Tom’s feet. He spat blood onto the tiled floor of the mansions entrance.

“Tom! How’d you like your girl? Sent her back nice and pretty for you.” Caleb said, laughing as he did. Tom felt his anger rise again, images of what he’d done to you filling his mind. Tom wasted no time in kicking him in the gut.

“Take him into the living room and tie him up, I’ll be back in a minute.” Tom said, he was going to say goodnight to you, this was going to take him a while. He huffed as he made his way into the bedroom and shit the door.

“What happened?” You asked as you rushed over to him.

“Haz found Caleb.” Tom said and he watched as panic flashed in your eyes for a moment before they found Tom’s.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, voice steady.

“Better question is probably what I won’t do.” Tom said as he took you into his embrace. He held you for a moment and kissed your head. You thought for a moment, this man had been your tormenter, the man who’d taunted you, made you feel heartbroken. This was the last part of getting over what happened to you. “I’m gonna be a while, so I came to say goodnight.” He whispered as he kissed your head.

“I want to come.” You spoke before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Tom asked, voice faltering.

“I want to watch you kill him Tom.” You spoke more confidently as you moved away from him.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said, sure he was willing to let you know about everything in his business, but seeing him deal with someone? No.

“Tom,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I need this, I need to see him die. I’ll know it’s over then.” You whispered.

“Sweetheart, you don’t, I know you think you do but you don’t. You’re not gonna wanna see what I’m gonna do to him.” He said firmly.

“Tom, please?” You begged as you looked at him and you knew he was fighting an internal battle within himself. “If it gets too much, I’ll leave, I promise. I won’t think of you any differently, Tom I know you’d never hurt me.” You said, hoping to win him over.

“It’s not for the faint-hearted love. It’s not like in films, this is real life and what you’ll see, what you’ll watch happen it’ll change you. Make you more like me, darken you.” Tom said and you looked at him with all the confidence in world. This was the life you wanted, the life you’d chosen and you didn’t hold a single regret.

“Good.”

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