#ive seen her with her legs NOT just sticking straight out but ive not been able to get a foto

[skunkes]

treating rhe spider outside my home like how I treat cookie in that i have 500 fotos of my phone of them in the exact same position

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | ii

Y/n finds herself giving in to temptation, tangling herself further in Jake’s web due to her inability to turn him away. Her dishonesty about her actions results in nothing but more trouble as she quickly realizes Jake is not the only one playing the game.

Read part one here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, flirting, touch of making out, hangovers, love triangle situations, sorry if i miss any!

hi! sorry this took so long. it’s also not the best, but i hope you still like it and stick with me through this series because im quite excited about it. ive been having a really tough time lately and just started getting back into the swing of things, so this chapter is kind of setting the scene and a promise for more, i guess. no smut in this one, but pinky promise it’s coming soon. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

~

The sun served as a violent reminder of the previous nights events. When you opened your eyes to the rays of light beaming through the curtains, you barely had time to register you were awake before the remorse began to seep back in. You were sure that the headache from your hangover was just another way of the universe laughing at you. As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you were almost angry at the sun for shining when you felt as miserable as you did. The specks of dust danced through the rays, silently taunting you as you attempted to pull yourself from the arms of slumber. You hated knowing that the world would keep turning and moving forward, even when you felt like everything was crumbling around you.

You made a move to stand, but the pounding in your skull was encouraging you to crawl back under the blankets and hide away. Still, you stood, searching for clothes to cover yourself with. You located an old t-shirt and some shorts in a pile of laundry you hadn’t gotten around to folding yet, throwing it on without much thought. You took to the mirror, checking yourself over, sickened at the sight. Your makeup was in disarray, smudged and stained over your skin and your hair was wild, sticking up and knotted. You grabbed some makeup wipes, ridding yourself of the mess on your face, first, and then grabbing a comb to brush through your hair. When you deemed yourself at least sort of presentable, you made the dreaded journey to the company of others.

As you made your way down the hallway, you could hear minimal chatter coming from the living room. You peeked your head around the corner, praying that it was just the boys, still unsure of who stayed at your home overnight. You felt a wave of relief wash over you when you saw Josh sprawled across the couch, eyes closed with a hand on his forehead. Danny was sitting on the second couch, arm casted around the back and slumped into the cushions. Sam was laying on the floor, eyes also shut to block out the light. You couldn’t help but notice Jake was nowhere to be found, immediately wondering where he ran off to. You scolded yourself internally, upset that he was the first person you searched for, that he was the first thought in your head. Even so, your mind trailed back to the memory of him, reminding yourself of how ethereal he looked between your legs. How could you not think about him after you’d seen him like that? Just at the thought, you felt a surge of emotion rush straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Good morning, sunshine.” A voice broke you from your head. You looked up, nervous at the greeting. You were sure guilt was plastered all over your face, giving you away almost immediately.

“Hey,” you replied, hoping to cover up your startled expression. You walked over, careful to avoid Sam on the ground. You took a seat next to Danny, who almost instantly wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into the touch, comforted at the idea he could possibly still be ignorant to the events of the night prior.

“You disappeared on me last night.” He noted, but there was no accusatory tone present.

“Yeah, I didn’t feel very good. I ended up going straight to bed.” The lie slipped off your tongue easier than any truth you’d ever told. You kept your eyes on your hands, which were resting on your lap. It only took one night for Jake to cast such a spell over you, one that made you so willing to lie for him; whatever power he held within him was strong enough to make you a fool, keeping him a secret while silently hoping he would come back, just so you could catch sight of his face.

“Feel better today?” He asked. You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in attempt to ward off the ache in your head.

“Not particularly.” You gave a short lived chuckle. “What about you guys?”

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve all had better days.” He replied, leaving it at that. “Josh, throw over that bottle of Advil.” In response, Josh let out a low groan along with a few incoherent mumbles. He reached to the side table without moving from his position, hand searching wildly for the small bottle. Once he’d located it, he tossed it in the general direction of you both without looking. It landed with a thud on the cushion beside you.

You picked it up, taking two out of the bottle. Danny handed you his glass of water. You muttered a thanks, swallowing them down and handing it back to him. “I’m never drinking again.”

“You say that every time.” Danny reminded.

“I mean it, this time.” You grumbled, but left it at that. You had no energy to argue the point any further. You were certain you meant it, now, because you finally joined in on the drunken mistakes everybody so often spoke about. For once, the alcohol worsened your situation instead of taking your mind off it. And now, you had no idea what to do about it. Your night of attempting to drink away your lesson had only created more. As your eyes drifted to Sam laying on the floor, your chest ached at the sight. Still, as hungover as he was, he was gorgeous. The previous nights events had no affect on your feelings for him; they were still as strong as ever. You were hoping the entanglement would provide some sense of clarity, but the only thing your dance with the devil gave you was a sense of shame, and a bit of remorse.

As you watched Sam’s face, you couldn’t help but feel your thoughts drift back to his brother. Sam was the type of person you wanted to come home to after a long day, cozy up with on the couch and throw on a movie. He was the person you wanted to share your everyday life with, one with whom you wanted to make an endless book of memories. Jake, on the other hand, was like a cloud of black smoke consuming you every time you thought of him. He didn’t even need to speak to you, you just wanted his hands on you and for him to never stop touching you, ever again. The sinful desire to be wrapped around him forever was overpowering; much stronger than a want. Now, it was almost a necessity.

The idea of never feeling him like that again was so dreadful that it took the air from your lungs and clouded your vision. He was suffocating you with his essence, but it felt so good that you almost felt the need to thank him for it; oxygen was second only to Jake and the way he made you feel. Even in your hungover state, the memory of him was still overpowering everything else. The tingle on your skin in the places he touched you was residual, begging you to remember him. As much as you’d hoped for it to be gone when you woke, you knew that you’d give anything to have a minute alone with him once more.

You found yourself toying the line of consciousness, comfortable in Danny’s hold and soothed from the warmth of his body. He was much like a large teddy-bear, and one of the few friends you didn’t mind physical contact with. If anything, it was one of the greatest comforts you knew. You were certain everybody else had dozed off as well, each one of you feeling the exact same way. Just as you were about to fall back into slumber, the front door opened and footsteps echoed down the hall. You stirred slightly, peering at the intruder with only one eye open. You were glad everybody else was sleeping, because the redness that spread across your face at the sight of Jake was more than incriminating.

He caught you looking, wasting no time giving you a smile. He was holding a tray of coffee and what looked to be a bag of takeout. “Don’t you all look energetic,” he commented, his gaze drifting around the room.

“Please, please tell me that one of those are for me?” You found the energy to open both eyes, lifting your head slightly. The surge of pain that ran through your skull prompted you to resume your earlier position.

“Obviously, sweetheart. Could never forget about you.” He sent a wink in your direction, one that was so subtle you would have missed it had you not been immersed in every detail of his face. You bit down on the inside of your lip in attempt to distract yourself from the fluttering in your stomach, still clearly affected by his pet names. He walked over, handing you a cup.

“Thanks, Jake.” You said, eyes focused on his face. When you reached for the coffee, your fingers brushed with his. The contact ran through you like a shock of lightning, causing your breath to catch in your throat. It was a small enough reaction that nobody noticed, except for the boy who caused it. He gave you a smile before he moved on, handing out the rest of the drinks.

At the smell of food, and the sound of the conversation, Sam and Josh arose from their positions. Jake gave everybody’s respective orders to them before settling beside you on the couch. You took a sip of coffee, trying not to focus on the feeling of his thigh resting against yours. You looked down at the lid of the cup, delighted at the taste of the drink. Your eyes softened at the writing on the top. Somehow, he’d managed to remember exactly how you liked your coffee. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d actually told him, meaning he’d been storing that information in his head for a while. You looked to him through the corner of your eye, hoping to be sneaky about it, but you found he was already looking at you through the corner of his. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks again, quickly shifting your attention back to the food in front of you.

After some much needed caffeine and sustenance, the group seemed to become a bit more lively. Sam and Josh both managed to remain upright, their eyes staying open for more than a few minutes at a time. “You seem awfully quiet,” Danny nudged you with his elbow. Your head turned towards him, trying to cover up your dazed look. You still weren’t quite back to reality. The memories from the night prior were hitting you harder each time the chatter in the room died down, leaving you still trying to figure out if it really happened or your dreams were just very vivid. You knew it must have happened, because the ache in your heart was very real every time you caught Sam’s eye, or because of the flood of emotion that washed over you every time you looked a little too closely at Jake.

“Oh, yeah. Guess I still don’t feel the best.” You chuckled, realizing you’d have to break out of your internal struggle sooner or later.

“Another Advil?” He offered, holding the bottle out to you.

“I don’t think any amount of Advil can take away this hangover, Danny Boy.” You sighed, letting your head fall back into the cushion. You meant it, too. This hangover was different, because you were suffering through a withdrawal from something much more powerful than alcohol. As remorseful as you felt about your actions, you knew the only way to satiate the feeling was to get Jake back in your bedroom and finish what you started. Even thinking that caused a twinge of pain in your chest, eyes casted in the direction of Sam and the stupid little smile he had on his lips.

“Hey, y/n,” your attention was pulled in another direction. You looked to your side, raising an eyebrow in response to Jake’s voice. “Do you still have that Les Paul?” You watched him, more specifically the way his lips moved as he formulated the words, finding yourself captivated in it. You felt the urge to lean over and kiss him, just to feel a shred of what he’d made you feel a few hours before.

“Uh, the gold top?” You asked, unsure if that’s the one he was asking about. “There’s a sunburst around here somewhere, too, if you’re thinking of that one.”

“No, the gold top.” He clarified. You looked around the room, certain that you’d left it there the last time you played it. When you couldn’t locate it, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“It must be downstairs. Did you want to play it?”

“Yeah, I’ll come and look for it with you.” He said, passing it off as a completely innocent, friendly gesture. You locked eyes with him, knowing what he really meant by the statement. Your gaze lingered for a moment too long, realizing you would have to answer before any suspicion was casted towards the interaction. You shared a silent agreement with him before speaking.

“Sure. It’s probably down there, somewhere. There’s so much shit in the basement that I can’t even keep track of it all anymore.”

“If you’re looking to get rid of any of it, I’d be more than happy to take that Thunderbird off your hands.” Sam sent a smirk your way. The sound of his voice pulled your attention to him, completely immersing you in his presence. You hated that both boys now had that power over you. Without missing a beat, you rolled your eyes, giving a slight scoff at his statement.

“You’ll never get your hands on that bass, Sammy. I love you, but never.” You said, making a move to stand.

“Oh, come on. All of those instruments down there, and I’ve never even seen you play one. Have some compassion, woman.” He pleaded. You gave him a gentle pat on the head as you walked by.

“Never, Sam.” You repeated. “Play it all you want, but it stays here.”

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged.

“Just like the thousand other times you asked?” You teased. He gave you a look, his gaze lingering over your face for a moment.

“Always.” He smiled, eyes focused on you with an expression you weren’t sure you’d seen from him before. You felt your heart flutter, noticing your stare lasted for a second too long with him, too. You shook the thoughts from your head, unable to think about how pretty he looked when he smiled, especially when you were about to head off to seclusion with his brother. You were in too deep with both of them, and there was no sign of land. You moved towards the exit of the room, looking back to find Jake following closely behind. You flicked on the light to the stairwell leading to the basement, cracking open the door. You led him down, watching your footing as you made your descent down the steps. You heard him trailing behind, the door softly falling shut behind him.

When your feet hit the floor, your hand searched for the second light switch on the wall, locating it after a few moments of struggle. You clicked it on and the yellow hue of the lightbulb filled the room, allowing you to see what was inside. You turned back to look at Jake, once again finding him already looking at you. He gave you a small smile once you caught his eye. “Sleep well last night, Gold Dust Woman?” You narrowed your gaze, eyebrow raised slightly to showcase your annoyance with him.

“What do you think, Jacob?” His smile only grew, and a laugh accompanied it, this time.

“I never got any phone calls, so I assumed you did.” He took a single step in your direction, almost as if he was nervous to approach you again. You watched him, wondering if you should let the situation continue as it was, or shut it down.

“Did you put my Les Paul down here?” You asked, unable to keep the question to yourself. You had the nagging idea that he moved it, almost certain that you last left it in the room you had just been in. But, at the same time, you could never be too sure of yourself. Especially considering the last twenty-four hours of your life had been nothing short of disastrous and delusional.

“Is that an accusation?” He seemed to love answering your questions with more questions, and it was driving you insane.

“Simple curiosity.” You replied, feeling unable to look away from him.

“Maybe I took it upon myself to bring it down here,” he explained, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Wouldn’t have wanted anything to happen to it, last night.”

“You sure that was the motivation?” You pressed further, wanting to hear him admit the true intent. He took another step closer, now within an arms reach of you. He brushed the hair from your face, tucking it neatly behind your ear.

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” He teased. His fingers ghosted over your cheek, sending that same rush of excitement through you as it did the night before. It was crazy how such a minuscule contact could produce such a grand feeling. That was just how Jake was, though. Everything about him was grand, even his simplicity.

“Just a question.” You assured him, praying you could keep your confidence. The slight airiness of your words and the drum of your heart against your ribcage said otherwise, though, and you were certain he noticed it.

“Anyone ever tell you that curiosity killed the cat, sweetheart?” He was inching closer, the space between your bodies diminishing more by the second. Even so, it seemed painfully slow. You wondered how you so easily found yourself in the same position after making the fatal mistake the night before; after the soul-crushing remorse you’d been feeling all morning.

“There’s another half to that saying, Jacob. Don’t forget about that part.” You reminded, hand involuntarily reaching for him. Your fingers grasped at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him towards you a little further. There it was again, the same incomprehensible force he had that drew you into him. You understood, now; you would never be able to escape Jake as long as he was accessible. Much like a drug, he was addictive. You were sure that even if you went to the basement with the intent of telling him to leave you alone, you’d still end up immersed in him one way or another. His aura was stronger than any pull of gravity or any other earthly force. Even knowing you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help but invite him in.

“Right,” he agreed, now pressed into you. His face was hovering just above yours. The anticipation was killing you; he seemed to be a fan of keeping you on edge, and it was insufferable. You wished he would just make the move, to decide for you and limit you from any overthinking. But, maybe, that was his intent. He wanted you to think about it; he wanted you to do all of the thinking, so you would ultimately end up in his arms on your own terms. He wanted you to think about him so often that there was no room for anything else, and he almost had you there. He was persevering until every part of your brain was consumed with him, in a true devilish fashion. He knew he could get away with it, too, because he could tell it was working. “Remind me, again, would you?”

“Of what, exactly?” If he wanted to play the game, you had no issue playing, too. A smirk was toying at the corner of his lips, although hard to notice due to his close proximity. It would be so easy to kiss him, you thought, so easy to just lean forward and allow you both the pleasure you were desperately seeking. But, you stayed true to your position and your stubbornness, refusing to break the gap between your mouths.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.” His hand that wasn’t occupied with your cheek found your hip, holding it with little force, just enough to let you know he was touching you. The pet name made your head spin once again. He had you wrapped around his finger, and you were too far gone to come back from it. You knew you would give him anything he wanted as long as he continued looking at you in such a way.

“Satisfaction,” you muttered, completely lost in the deep brown hue of his eyes. They were so inviting, much like a warm hug on a cold day. He nodded, happy with your answer. “Satisfaction brought it back.” You finished, more confident in your words.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “So, what’s going to satisfy you, then?” You swallowed hard at his words, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He already knew the answer, the question only served as a boast for his ego. “Finishing what we started last night?” He pried, lips just hovering over your own. It was almost funny, how distraught you’d been about this exact situation just minutes before, and how willingly you’d fallen back into it.

“An answer to the question would do it, I think.” You brushed his question off, but you knew your response was a lie. You were practically drooling at the thought of continuing your activities from the previous night. The idea of walking away from him was blasphemous, the thought almost putting you in agony.

“So, if I tell you the truth, you’ll walk away?” His fingertips were burning into your skin, so violent despite his gentle touch, but it felt fantastic. You were certain you’d never be able to live without it.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to feign a little bit of certainty, but anyone with a working set of ears could tell it was untruthful.

“You know you can’t lie to me, angel.” He scolded, although his tone was soft and barely above a whisper. The tip of his nose was tickling your own, now. He’d given in last night, but he was stubborn enough to stop himself, this time. He wanted you to invite him in, now. It was your turn to break the boundary. “But, yes. I brought the Les Paul down here this morning, if that’s what you want to know.”

“Why?” You pestered, both of you aware that wasn’t the question you wanted answered.

“So I could have you all to myself, again.” He was done playing, realizing the best way to get what he wanted was to be honest. As fun as it was to tease you, he wanted to feel you on him again, almost as badly as you wanted him. In another moment of weakness, void of any rationality, you pulled him closer and closed the gap between you. It was hungry, filled with desperation and a need for each other that was unable to be described with words.

He guided you backwards, firmly pressing you against the wall as his hands found their way under the hem of your shirt. He wasn’t disrespectful: more so just searching for a more intimate piece of you to experience. He settled his hold on your hips, just above your shorts. His fingers felt like heaven on your skin, like it was exactly where they were meant to be. Your arms were wrapped around his neck in a shameless attempt to capture him and hold him to you forever. The idea of the guitar was long out the window, much like the memory of the people sat in your living room. The only thing that held any importance was the boy before you, once again casting his spell over you.

When he parted from you, the loss of contact was agonizing, nearly bringing you to tears. The pent up tension from how he’d left you had simmered, but now was building once more, making it impossible to see past it. If life would have been so kind, he would have taken you right there. But, as you grew to understand, it never was. He gave you that same, irritating smile in place of his kiss. You wanted to smack it off his face, just to ensure he’d never give it to you again. “Glad to see you still feel the same way,” he noted.

“You make it impossible not to.” You said, fighting the urge to push him away from you.

“Thank you.” He grinned.

“Not particularly a compliment, sweetheart.” You corrected, barely noticing the use of the nickname. It seemed like his charm was rubbing off on you.

“Agree to disagree,” he said, face still inches from your own. “Have I earned that invitation, yet?” You held back an eye roll, knowing deep down that he never needed any invitation; he owned the place, now. It would feel more comfortable if you were asking him permission to allow you the pleasure.

“You could’ve had me last night. You already had the invitation, Jake. You didn’t need to earn it.” You reminded him, still angry but finding yourself more focused on his lips, hoping he’d grace you with another kiss.

“I know, angel, but don’t you want it even more, now?” You expelled a long sigh, tired of him dragging the situation out. “It will be so much better, now that you’ve waited.” He assured you. “Besides, I think you’re worth courting, at least a little bit.” He sent another wink in your direction, paired with a smirk.

“Maybe you’re the sadist.” You shot, throwing his own theories back at him. He gave a shrug, but didn’t give anything more. “You promised me, Jake.”

“I haven’t broken any promises, sweetheart.” He said, looking over your face.

“Surely this isn’t what you meant by all day long, however I wanted it.” You scoffed. “I’m not exactly enjoying this.”

“So, what? You want me to fuck you while everybody waits for us upstairs?” He asked, raising a hand to run his finger over your cheek. That smug little smirk remained stuck on his lips. When you didn’t answer, he raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “You would?” He let out a disapproving hum, settling his palm on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed, knowing that if you were going to have him, he’d ensure that you would suffer a bit, first. That was just a part of his hellish nature. Although, you had to admit, he was right; the build up was bound to result in a way more intense climax, later. “Dirty little thing, too.” He noted, drawing in a deep breath. It seemed like the idea sparked a nerve within him, too. If your inhibitions were any lower, you both would have given in.

“Get the fucking guitar,” you snapped, but your hands refused to break their hold on him. “But when they go home, you stay.”

“A lady who knows what she wants,” he leaned in once more, lips barely brushing over yours. “Hot.” The eye roll you’d been containing made its way into the world. The small statement aided you in realizing that as captivating as he was, he was still just a boy. He leaned forward, giving you another kiss to hold you over. As much as you hoped it would ease the feeling of need, it only worsened it. When he broke away, he moved back and freed you from your position. You watched him, still half-tempted to fuck him right there. You persevered, playing the waiting game once again. You managed to hold back this long, and you were sure you could hold on just a bit longer.

“Where’d you put it?”

“So demanding.” He said, feigning a look of disbelief. You placed a hand on your hip, silently telling him that your patience was growing thin. “Fine,” he stepped away, looking only for a second before locating the case that contained the guitar. He grabbed it, returning to you and giving a genuine smile. “Better?” You gave a nod, happy for once that he decided to comply. Amidst your frustration, you couldn’t help but soften at his goofy expression. You walked towards him, placing a kiss on his cheek in thanks. You nodded your head towards the stairwell, letting him know you were both long overdue for your return.

“Thanks.” You said as you took to the steps. He was close behind, not letting you stray too far. As you reached for the light switch, a sharp smack landed on your ass, causing you to jump at the contact. You turned around, giving a look of bewilderment which was met with a chuckle.

“Just so you know, I never break a promise.” He assured you. “And, just because you got your way, doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” He gave another wink, causing you to swallow hard. The statement produced a whole other world of excitement, eager to see what he had in store for you. You both returned to the main level, composing yourselves as you walked in attempt to hide the true intent of the basement visit.

“Oh! Hold on,” You said, turning on your heels. Jake watched you, curious about your sudden change in direction, but stepped out of your way. You tumbled back downstairs, looking around for only a moment before locating the item you’d forgotten. You grabbed the bass before joining Jake once again. Even though you were captivated in Jake, Sam still seemed to be heavy on your mind.

“If you let him play that, he’s never going to give it back.” Jake warned.

“He will, trust me.” You said, not worried about it. You closed the basement door behind you as you stepped into the main floor. Jake disappeared around the corner, joining his brothers. You took a moment to fully regain yourself before following after him. You were greeted with three pairs of questioning eyes once you entered the room.

“Did you guys get lost?” Danny asked, a smirk on his face. You looked to him, trying to cover any look of guilt that might have been on your own. The knowing look he held in his eye made your stomach churn with unease.

“There’s a lot of shit down there. Guess it just got lost in the mess of things.” You chuckled, refusing to hold his stare any longer. You turned to Sam, handing him the Thunderbird. He took it, excitement replacing any inquiries in his mind. “To play. Not to keep, Sammy.” You reminded, but he was too busy plucking at the strings. Jake had flicked the power on to an amp sitting beside the television, messing with the settings. He took to the second one beside it, tossing a patch cord towards his youngest brother. Danny decided he would drop the subject for now, knowing you’d never admit to anything in front of a group. He made a mental note to ask about it later.

“Now I feel left out.” Danny said, looking around at his friends. You let out a small laugh.

“I’ve got a box drum. No real drum set, yet. Or a couple acoustics, if you’d prefer that.”

“Those in the basement, too?” He questioned. You elected not to respond, making a move towards the amp and grabbing the drum, making the decision for him.

“Right here, actually.” You smiled as you sat it in front of him.

“You’re too kind,” he said, pulling the instrument between his legs. You resumed your earlier position on the couch beside him, looking around at everyone. The morale definitely seemed higher than it was previously. Between the pain killers and the distraction of music, everyone was mostly back to their normal selves. “That’s a gorgeous guitar.” Danny noted, eyes trailing towards Jake.

“It’s a ‘57 reissue. Wish I could’ve got the real one, but I can’t be too greedy.”

“Where do you find all of these? And how are you not broke?” Sam laughed, eyeing the bass in his hands.

“I got a lot of them as gifts, or thank you’s from the people I’ve worked with over the years. Some of it I bought secondhand, and some I got brand new. They all kind of come with their own story, which is cool.” You explained. Sam watched you intently as he listened.

“That is really cool, actually.”

“Yeah, turns out a lot of musicians like to cycle through instruments. They get bored after so many years and move on to other things. When they do, they have nowhere to put the pile of old ones.”

“That’s where you come in?” You smiled, nodding in response.

“Yeah, exactly. It’s awesome, ‘cause it’s like I get to keep a part of the people I work with. I mean, the instruments are cool, but the sentiment means more.” You told him, feeling touched at the question. The whole idea of Sam was confusing. You were hopelessly head over heels for him, but you were quite certain any feelings you had weren’t returned. Then, he’d sit there and ask you questions nobody else bothered to ask you. He made you feel seen; heard, even, after an entire lifetime of begging for it.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never played any of them,” he said, stare still burning into you. You opened your mouth, but closed it quickly, void of a proper response. Your eyes flickered to Jake, who was mindlessly strumming. He wasn’t looking in your direction, but you knew he was listening; he always listened. You weren’t sure if you wanted to share the intimate detail of your life with all of them, yet. The thought terrified you, understanding that the more people that knew about it, the bigger chance of your escape to the bars on Friday nights being ruined. Then again, you thought you’d be mortified if anyone found out. The night before, when Jake showered you in his completely honest compliments, it felt more comforting, rather than scary. Like the years of learning and practicing finally amounted to something. The stamp of approval from a real musician was exhilarating.

“A little, I guess.” You shrugged. Jakes eyes flickered towards you, expression intrigued at the idea you might tell everyone. “Just a side hobby.” Jake had to bite back a smile, excited he may be able to get to hear you play again. Sam’s eyes were wide, amazed that you finally admitted you played the instruments, rather than let them collect dust. They all had the nagging suspicion, and often took turns trying to pry the information from you. He was proud of the fact he’d been the one to get you to tell them. If only he knew the truth, that he wasn’t the first to know, he might have been a little heartbroken. So, you kept that part to yourself and hoped Jake would do the same.

“Play me something?” He asked, hope sparkling in his pupils. You felt your heart jump at the sight of him, unable to turn him down while he looked at you in such a way. You swallowed hard, but eventually gave a nod.

“Okay.” You agreed, already feeling your nervousness set in. At the word, Jake immediately surrendered the Les Paul over to you. You took it, muttering a thank you and settling it on your lap. “What do you want to hear?” You asked. All four boys had no answer, overjoyed to hear whatever you were willing to play. You rested the pick between your lips as you adjusted the tuning pegs to satisfaction.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, realizing that this was the most intimate detail you’d ever shared with them to date. You didn’t even bother to open them, too scared to see the expressions they adorned when you started to pick. You let the muscle memory guide you through the intro riff. You played it a few times, getting a feel for the song before continuing on. The second time you played it, Danny caught on and was banging a small beat into the drum. The third time, Sam joined in with the bass. The sound of all three together brought a smile to your lips, finally focused on the music rather than the fear.

“Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise,” the lyrics came like a second nature to you, all of the anxiety floating away as the words fell from your mouth. If only you knew how brutally truthful the words would turn out to be, you never would have played the song in the first place. “Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies.”

“And if you don’t love me now,

You will never love me again,

I can still hear you saying

You would never break the chain.”

Josh joined you on the chorus, singing the backing vocals. On the second chorus, Jake joined, too. They let you sing the verses on your own, but by the time the last chorus came around, you were all shouting the lyrics with each other. On the finishing note, you were breathless and red in the face, but you couldn’t recall a time you felt quite as alive. Your heart was beating against your ribcage, threatening to break free, and the smile on your face was blinding.

“A little?” Sam asked, his grin matching yours.

“I have a lot of free time.” You breathed, a short laugh following the statement. “I have a couple friends I play with at the bars sometimes.”

“That’s more than a hobby, y/n. That’s a passion.” He said, never once breaking his stare away from you. If your face wasn’t already red, the blush your cheeks produced would have been a dead giveaway of your feelings for him. “You’re fantastic.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, unsure of how to take to the kind words.

“I’m just upset we didn’t do that sooner.” Danny said, his palm landing on your back with a pat of encouragement.

“Well, we have all the time in the world.” You shrugged.

“You guys are thinking the same thing, right?” Jake asked, looking around the room. The three boys seemed to have an unspoken agreement, already knowing what he was about to say.

“What?” You asked, feeling left out.

“We’ve been looking for an opening act, if you and your friends are interested.” Jake finally answered. When you looked to him, you half expected him to laugh and tell you he was joking, but his expression had never been more serious.

“O-oh, no,” you laughed “no, I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, you can.” He said, his eyes searching your own, seeming to be looking straight through your soul. He knew you had it in you; he’d seen it that night at the bar. “Come with us.”

“Are you allowed to offer that?” You asked, desperate to divert the attention away from the topic at hand. “Aren’t there contracts and managers and all of that stuff involved.”

“Yeah, we can handle that.” Sam said, just as enthusiastic about the idea. Your eyes darted between the two, unsure if they were pulling your leg.

“I have a job, guys.” You brushed them off.

“That you can always come back to.” Josh spoke now, in complete agreement with the others.

“Don’t have to decide right now. Just think about it.” Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into a side-hug. You felt like the air was stolen from your lungs, baffled at the idea. You couldn’t believe they had enough faith in you to ask such a thing. More than that, you couldn’t believe they liked you enough to want you to join them. You thought it was crazy, completely insane that they offered you something like that without even thinking twice. But, under the shock, you felt a small bubble of excitement. A chance to live your dream; finally a real shot with an option to fall back on. “Play us something else.” Danny spoke again, gently encouraging you to keep going.

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” You nodded, coming back to reality. You thought for a moment, trying to decide on what to play next. When you settled on a song, it only took the boys a few seconds to join in.

The late hours of the morning dwindled until early afternoon, filled with music, chatter and laughter. The spirits were so high that you even managed to forget about your internal dilemma. After a while, the group broke off into smaller conversations and the instruments grew quiet. You took it upon yourself to take a trip to the kitchen, craving a bit more caffeine and a snack to keep you going. You flicked on the coffee maker, filling the top with grounds and pressing the start button. You pulled down a mug, tapping your fingers against the counter as you waited. The stead drip seemed to take forever, your impatience showing more by the second. As you watched, gentle footsteps echoed behind you, letting you know someone had joined you.

You turned, half expecting Jake to be standing behind you, eager to put you through a bit more turmoil. A bubble of excitement arose at the thought of another minute along with him. You were met with a shock, seeing Sam approaching with a small smile stuck on his lips. “Coffee?” You asked, nodding your head towards your empty mug.

“Sure.” He agreed, taking a seat at the table. “I can’t believe you kept all of that talent a secret for so long.” You were still pleasantly surprised that Jake was true to his word; he hadn’t even mentioned the fact he’d seen you perform.

“Guess I was just shy.” You shrugged. “I don’t really tell many people.”

“I don’t know why, y/n. Talent like that should be shared with the world.” He said, honesty radiating from his tone. You didn’t answer, mostly because you weren’t sure how to, so both of you fell into comfortable silence for a few moments. “I think it would be really cool if you came with us.”

“I think it would be, too.” You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly aware of how hungover you looked. You didn’t share too many moments completely alone with Sam. Now that it was just the two of you, you were very conscious of your appearance. “But there’s a lot of stuff to consider. I have a job, I have to make sure my people are okay with it, too. We only have a few original songs and mostly stick to covers. Fuck, Sam, we don’t even have a name.” You laughed. “We play at dive bars on the weekend and forget about it by Monday. Definitely not prepared to tour with anyone.”

“You’ve got some time to figure it out. You work with music all day, every day. You probably know more about it than we do.” He offered. “You kept up with us really well. Clearly you guys know what you’re doing. I’m sure you sound even better with them.”

“Are you trying to peer pressure me into this?” You gave a smirk, just to let him know you were joking.

“Yeah,” he laughed, not afraid to admit it. “I want you to come.” The profession was blunt, hitting you hard. He’d never been so direct with you about anything, especially concerning anything like that. You watched him, unsure of how to respond. Instead of answering, you turned and filled the mugs with coffee. You sat one in front of him, taking a seat across from him. “I miss you when we’re gone, you know.” You were sure that your heart stopped beating for a moment.

“I miss you guys, too.” You replied once you’d had enough time to process the statement.

“No, I miss you.” He clarified, making sure you knew he wasn’t speaking on a broad spectrum. “I mean, I’m sure they do, too, but I miss you.”

“Oh,” you mustered, feeling the redness creep to your cheeks again. “I miss you when you’re gone, too, Sammy.” He gave you a soft smile, happy to hear the confirmation.

“I was wondering where you were, last night. I didn’t even get to play a game with you. We always play together.” You gave a nervous chuckle, unsure of how to answer.

“I just wasn’t feeling the best.” You lied. “I would’ve asked, but it seemed like you were a bit… occupied.” You trailed off at the end, not really wanting to dive into the specifics of him and the other girl.

“Oh, that girl?” He asked, looking for confirmation. You nodded. “I don’t even know her name, honestly.” Your stomach sank, realizing you’d completely mistaken the situation. Your feelings clouded the interaction, making it seem like the conversation was much more flirtatious than it actually was. You wondered how many times you’d done it over the course of the last few months. You still weren’t sure where the conversation was headed, exactly, so you didn’t respond right away. “I was hoping to talk to you, instead.”

“You never came over.” You said, eyes searching his face for another clue as to what he was hinting at.

“I never do, I get too nervous.” He chuckled. You leaned back in your chair, taking in his words as he spoke. You weren’t sure you were understanding the intent of his conversation, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. “You and Jake seemed pretty close last night.” Your eyes widened, shocked that he had even noticed the interaction.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” You shrugged. He watched you, waiting for something else. When you didn’t respond, he looked to his mug on the table, picking it up and taking a sip.

“Just be careful,” He said, looking back to you. You cocked your head to the side, wondering what the warning was for, or why he thought he was the one who had to give it.

“There’s nothing to ‘be careful’ about.” You replied. “We just played beer pong together.” You chuckled, wondering if he could see through the lie. The words seemed to perk him up a little bit, but you didn’t want to read too much into the details, just in case you were wrong.

“I think he might be looking for something more than that.” Sam gave another soft smile, but it was more sullen than the last. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Sam, you don’t have to worry. I can handle myself.” You assured him.

“I always worry about you.” The statement itself was friendly enough, and you wouldn’t have thought anything of it had he not reached over and rested his hand on top of yours. The small action was enough to send your stomach into butterflies and make your breath catch in your throat. When you looked up to meet his eyes, he was already watching your face. He didn’t move his hand, but gave you the freedom to pull away if you wanted. You noticed, in that moment, just how similar him and his brother were. Not just in looks, but their expressions, too. You could go as far as to say even down to the illusive nature of their words and actions.

You thought it must be some violent trick from the universe, a scheme to make you the laughing stock of the world. There was no logical reason that you’d fallen into Jake’s hands, and shared such an intimate moment with Sam right after. A moment in which you had been craving for so long, one where he seemed to be showing you a hint of what you were looking for the whole time. If you had waited just one more day, you imagined you wouldn’t be feeling so guilty for wanting to lean over and kiss him. But, as you sat with his hand over yours, the only thing you could think of was your rising sense of remorse, stronger than any you’d felt before. This time, it wasn’t on behalf of your feelings for Sam; it was on behalf of Jake, and your fear of hurting him. A fear of losing him, even. So far, your shame was based off your crush on Sam and your guilt for sleeping with his brother despite that feeling. This time, you’d actually found yourself involved with Jake, even if you were unsure of the nature of the relationship. It felt dirty feeling this way about Jake’s brother, now, after his hands had been on you so intimately. It almost felt like a betrayal to him.

You wondered, if you had put a stop to Jake’s antics the night before, if Sam would still be across from you with intent on professing such feelings. After so long of waiting, you thought he might only be interested in you when the idea of you being with someone else arose. That thought pained you more than the rest. In attempt to satiate the thought, you opted to believe you were looking much too far into the interaction. It was a friendly conversation, and a gesture that matched. Just two people drinking coffee, experiencing the lull of a hangover and seeking some form of comfort.

“So, it was just a friendly game?” He asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear the desired response, instead.

“Yeah,” you whispered, nodding along with your words. You both knew you were lying, but it didn’t make the difference for him. “Why?”

“Because I’d hate for my favourite girl to have feelings for my brother, and not me.” Your eyes fluttered closed, the statement hitting you like a train. You thought you might be sick; the sound producing a much worse feeling than any part of the hangover. A day sooner, and you’d be jumping for joy. Now, you wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Although you still thought that his intent was to keep you on his line instead of someone else’s, you prayed you were wrong. As gross as you felt about it, the reciprocation of feelings was euphoric. Even so, the knowledge only made a messy situation even worse.

The part of you that was in love with Sam was begging you to fall into him, to revel in the admission and give in to his affection. The part of you that was immersed in Jake was screaming at you to stand up and walk away, to pretend you hadn’t heard a thing that he said. Instead, you sat, staring at Sam wide-eyed and void of any response. A thought worse than the ones previous surfaced, that maybe this wasn’t a coincidence, or conscious choice that Sam made, waiting until after Jake made a move. Maybe this was your repayment for succumbing to the devil’s temptation. The conversation you shared with Danny the night before was pounding against your skull. Perhaps, this was your karma. You’d failed miserably at utilizing your lesson, and this was the universe’s indignant punishment.

The most disgraceful knowledge of all, was that your moral compass was completely destroyed; the need to have Sam in your life was debilitating, and the thought of never having Jake again was paralyzing. For a moment, the sinful little devil made its reappearance, working hard at convincing you to have them both. The idea of keeping your feelings a secret was long gone, and was replaced the new idea of entertaining both boys just so you wouldn’t have to go without. As misguided as it was, the notion was the most sound you could come up with, because the thought of having neither was unbearable.

The last piece of crucial information was unknown to you; the brothers knew exactly what they were doing. Both taking a keen interest in you long ago, and only finally engaging in the battle of courtship. They had never been able to turn down a bit of friendly competition, especially when the prize was so grand. And brothers they were, because that same streak of evil ran through both. Ever so slowly pulling you in with their captivating eyes and electrifying touches; driving you crazy without doing much of anything at all. As innocent as their intentions may have been, as amiable as the competition seemed, there was no escaping the fact that someone would end up suffering. With everyone hoping it wouldn’t be them, you all failed to see the misery you were wishing upon the others.

It was a situation that left the sinister laughing; the devil was only awaiting the downfall.

Heartless challenge,

pick your path and I’ll pray

[luminnara]

It’s Been a Long, Long Time | Ch 6

Summary:  When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | ... | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Tags:  @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely @ bluemoon-icecream @kaz11283 @jenjen8675309 @dollfacev8 @witchinpractice @mystical-b3ar @sukeraa

Bucky refused to leave the omega’s side while she stayed in the lab. Bruce had to stop him from trying to crawl onto the bed with her, and after about the third time, he convinced the super soldier to just pull up a chair like a civilized person and hold her hand while she drifted off to sleep again. Now that she was with her alpha, she had settled down for another nap, more interested in resting than answering any more questions so long as Bucky stayed and kept an eye on her. 

Steve had to admit, it was endearing. He had never seen his friend so absolutely enraptured like this. Whenever the omega, or Ten, as Bruce was still calling her, shifted in her sleep, Bucky’s eyes were snapping over to make sure that she was okay. Whenever she let out a little whimper, he was purring and stroking her hair. Whenever she seemed like she might wake up again, his attention was completely on her.

“So...sure you don’t remember her?” Steve asked, pulling up a chair. He had left for a few hours to work out, and after a lack of updates from FRIDAY, he headed back down to check on everything. They were exactly as he had left them, which was a good sign. At least nothing was getting out of hand. 

Yet.

Bucky shrugged, rubbing the back of the omega’s hand with his thumb. “I dunno. It’s...foggy.”

“Well, it seems to me like you’ve either got a history together, or she’s mistaking you for someone else.” Steve said. “Quite frankly, it’s hard to do the latter.”

“I’ve dreamt of her.” Bucky said quietly. 

“...what?”

“It’s not much, but...I’ve seen her face.” Bucky looked down at her. “I think that no matter how many times HYDRA wiped my memory, she’s always been in there. Kinda like the one constant that was always around, the one thing I could always count on being in the base with me.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Steve asked.

“Never knew if she was real or not.” Bucky sighed. “I thought...maybe she was just something my mind made up to fill some of the gaps. But she smells exactly like I remember.”

Steve sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his friend. Bucky wasn’t snarling anymore, most of his attention trained on the omega while she slept. Now that he was close to her, he had calmed down significantly, though he still wouldn’t let Steve within five feet of her bed. 

“Just got off the phone with Tony,” Bruce announced, walking in. “He and Pepper will be back tonight. Pepper’s having some clothes and personal items delivered for our new omega friend here. They also asked about renovating a more permanent room for her, but I, uh...told them I wasn’t exactly sure what the situation would be.”

“She’s staying with me,” Bucky said immediately. 

“Now hang on, hang on,” Steve leaned forward. 

“Steve,” Bucky growled. “I want her with me.”

“Buck, you don’t even know her—“

Bucky interrupted him with a loud snarl, the omega in question whining and squirming in her sleep at the sound of it. 

He immediately shut up, brushing a thumb over her cheek and shushing her until she was sleeping soundly again. Fuck, he felt so stupid. What was wrong with him? She could have woken up, or been scared, or upset, all because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. She needed her rest, and he needed to stay quiet. 

Steve almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Oh, Buck,” he shook his head. “You’re in deep.”

—

Amoretta woke feeling well rested, and it wasn’t until she tried to stretch and felt the tug of her IV drip that she remembered where she was. Opening her eyes revealed the bright lights of the lab, and as she started to sit up, a few faces came into view.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Bruce said. “How are you feelin’?”

She licked her lips. “Juice box. Now.”

“Way ahead of you. Had this one waiting as soon as you started waking up.” He tossed one to her and was pleased when her hand shot up to catch it. “Reflexes look good. Vitals are all reading normal. I’ll have to run another test to see what’s going on with those suppressants, but I’m willing to bet you’re metabolizing them fairly quickly now. How are you feeling?”

She pulled the little straw off the back of the carton and jammed it into the top. “Nauseous. Like usual.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Side effect of the suppressants?”

“Always has been. Other than that...I feel great, actually.”

“Well, as soon as these wear off, we can figure out something nicer and more modern for you. If you want to use them, I mean.” Bruce shrugged. “Your choice.”

She smiled. “Choice. I like that.”

“Hey, we’re all about independence here,” Steve said happily. He was glad to see she was awake, even though Bucky wasn’t.

The other alpha was still at her side, but, as of about half an hour ago, he was napping. Steve made a mental note to never let him forget the way he slept straight through the one moment he had been waiting for all day. 

“What time is it?” She asked. “There’s no windows in this damn place.”

“Just after dinner,” Bruce chuckled. “You slept most of the day. Bucky hasn’t left your side.”

She looked over to her soldier, smiling warmly at the sight of him sleeping. He was even snoring softly. “I haven’t gotten to see this in forty years.”

“Did you two, uh…” Steve cleared his throat. “Spend a lot of time together?”

The omega laughed. “You always this awkward around girls?”

“That’s not—“

“Relax, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She sucked on her straw. “But...yeah, we did.”

“So...you were just kept for his ruts, or…” Steve was so awkward it was almost endearing. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I think.”

“It’s okay. I know my lot in life.” She kept her eyes trained on Bucky as she spoke. “But if I’m going to answer more questions, I want to get out of this bed. And I want real clothes. Then I’ll talk.”

And so, only several minutes later, Bruce was handing her a sweater and some shorts he had grabbed from a little stash of extra clothing, and Bucky was startled awake by Ten stepping past him. She was finally free from all the tubes and cords that had been sticking out of her during her little hospital stay, and she was all too eager now to explore the tower.

She stood on wobbly legs, almost falling onto him when she tried to take a step. Bucky was up in a flash, ready to catch her, and as she fell against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. Despite just waking up, he felt fully alert, completely ready to tend to his omega’s every need. 

His omega...he liked that train of thought. 

“We can head up to the common area. It should still be quiet.” Steve said, leading the way out. 

Bucky kept an arm around his omega’s waist as they followed, Bruce bringing up the rear. He wanted to be touching her at all times, constantly in contact so that he couldn’t lose track of her. His instincts were roaring to life, demanding that he do everything in his power to make sure that she was safe and in his line of sight. The elevator ride was tense and full of possessive growling, Bucky constantly shoving Ten behind him to keep her in the corner and as far away from Steve as possible, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the doors slid open and they could step out of the cramped space again. 

The common area was empty, thankfully, FRIDAY informing them that the other Avengers were all either working out or in their private quarters. 

“Good,” Steve said, heading towards the couches. “No interruptions. Got it, FRIDAY?”

“Understood, Captain Rogers.”

“C’mere,” Bucky mumbled, pulling his omega down to sit on one of the couches with him. Part of him was feeling a little sheepish and self conscious of his behavior...but the rest of him didn’t give a shit. The others could stare and shake their heads all they wanted, but he’d be damned if he let Ten slip through his fingers again. 

Or whatever her name was. 

Steve and Bruce sat across from them, making sure that they left as much space as possible between themselves and the new omega. Neither of them had ever seen Bucky behaving quite like this--he was on guard, hyper aware of everything around him. He made sure that she was pressed up against his side, an arm draped possessively over the back of the couch so that it was unmistakable that she was with him.

Christ, what had gotten into him? He couldn’t remember ever acting this way about an omega before. 

“So…” Steve cleared his throat, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees.

Bucky didn’t really like the way his posture made him lean forward towards his omega, but he could deal with it for now. “So.”

“What do you wanna know?” Ten asked, plucking at Bucky’s shirt. She seemed to be even clingier with him than he was with her, perfectly happy to be hanging off him or tucked up against his side. “You met my demands. I guess I’m an open book now.”

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds,” Steve said. “We just need to know as much as you’re willing to share.”

“Then ask a question.”

“...Alright.” he cleared his throat again. “You said HYDRA used you to help with Bucky’s ruts?”

Ten nodded, her expression remaining even and cool. 

“Could you tell us more about that?” Steve glanced at Bucky. “Were there ever any other omegas, or anyone we should know about?”

“There were omegas before me.” she answered. “When I first got to the compound, there were a lot of us. They kept us all in big cells, so everyone talked. People said things about how HYDRA was grabbing omegas off the street for their super soldiers, and how the one at our base was the biggest and scariest.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at her tone. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected her to sound like while she regaled them with her life story, but he definitely thought there would be a tad bit more apprehension in her voice. She seemed proud of herself, and more matter-of-fact than a lot of omegas would be while talking about their alpha’s previous partners. Or...whatever you called prisoners whose only purpose was to help during ruts.

“And I bet he was,” she sighed, leaning her cheek on Bucky’s chest and looking up at him adoringly. 

“Well, I don’t know about that…” Bucky said, an almost shy smile on his lips. And...was he actually blushing?

Steve was going to lose his mind. 

“You said the other omegas couldn’t handle it? That’s why you were given the serum?” he prompted, trying to keep them on track before he drowned in the sticky sweetness of her happy pheromones. 

“Right.” she turned her attention back to Steve and Bucky let out a quiet huff. “HYDRA didn’t really like to take care of us. And the soldier--I mean, Bucky--would wear them out. So...HYDRA would just kind of let them go. Or put them down, maybe. I never saw it.”

Bucky’s expression dropped. His blush was gone, and he almost looked like he was going to be sick as he listened to her talk.

“But it wasn’t his fault,” she said quickly, glancing between him and Steve. “I don’t think it was ever on purpose, you were just...demanding.”

He gave a groan, leaning his head back against the couch. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it, doll. I’d rather know what I did, at this point.”

She offered a small shrug. “I don’t really remember it being that bad, but I don’t think I ever met you before they gave me the serum.”

“That’s something, at least.” he mumbled, dragging a hand down his face. 

“Why you?” Steve asked. “Did you have any prior military experience, any ties to something the others didn’t?”

“No.” she laughed. “I never even got in fights before HYDRA.”

“Then why’d they use such an important resource on you, specifically? Not trying to take a dig at you, it’s just...well, omegas don’t usually…”

“I know,” she said. “Omegas aren’t supposed to be tough, right? That’s why they only ever let alphas become super soldiers.”

“That’s not what I…” Steve trailed off and then sighed. “Sorry.”

“I told you, they gave me the serum so that I would be strong enough to hold my own. It also ensured I would always be around, no matter how many years passed.” Her fingers found Bucky’s free hand and she took it, absentmindedly playing with the smooth vibranium knuckles. “Having me as a constant meant they could stop spending so much time and effort on always having a new omega around for him. Plus…well, I wasn’t really there, but I heard something about it once…”

“What?” Bucky asked. 

“They let you choose who was going to become your omega.” She said, looking up at him. “They gave you a bunch of scents, and you chose mine. I guess it was the only reason they didn’t, uh...humanely euthanize me.”

His eyes were wide. The thought of HYDRA killing his omega brought a low growl to his throat, his chest rumbling with the vibrations of it. “No.”

“Well, clearly they didn’t!” She said brightly. “My file said I was a kicker.”

“So they gave you, an already aggressive omega, the serum, but never gave you any trigger words or fished around in your brain?” Bruce shook his head. “Surprisingly sloppy, considering who they are.”

“It’s not like they ever sent me out into the world. I stayed in my cell all day, unless I was needed for a rut. Then I went and stayed in a different cell.” She sighed. “And if they ever needed to, they could just use the alpha to grab me.”

Bucky clearly didn’t like the thought of that. He made a frustrated sound, leaning his head back again. “Great.”

“It was never bad.” She let go of his hand, moving her fingers to cup his jaw. “You never hurt me. You wouldn’t. Sometimes, when I acted up, they would make you go retrieve me, because they knew you were the only one who could do it. If they didn’t send you, they would just knock me out.”

“So...that was it?” Steve asked. “Ruts, serum, cryo?”

“For thirty years!” She chirped. “The last time they froze me, they were freezing him, too. They always tried to keep us in cryo at the same time so that I could be thawed out and ready when he needed me. But...I guess they just...left me there?” She frowned. 

“See, that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Steve said. “I didn’t see any signs of a struggle at that base. I’d say they left in an orderly fashion, but the fact that they didn’t take you along makes me think they were in more of a hurry than they made it seem.”

“Natasha might have a better idea,” Bruce suggested. “We can talk to her, try to figure out—“

“FRIDAY, open the damn door or so help me God I will rewrite your entire personality.” A voice interrupted from the other side of the door. 

“I’m sorry, Tony, but Captain Rogers asked me not to.” The AI said. 

“Well, is it an emergency?” The man scoffed.

“No emergency measures have been executed. No security breaches have been identified.”

“Then I’m sorry, but Captain Rogers does not outrank me when it comes to my own robots. Open the door, beautiful.”

She seemed to sigh. “Very well, Mr. Stark.”

Ten perked up, leaning forward slightly. She was watching the door curiously, tilting her head a little when she heard it slide open. Bucky rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself quietly and pulling her up against his side as another alpha strode in. 

“Really? Having a party without me?” the man asked, a smooth, casual air about him as he walked in and looked at everyone on the couches. When his eyes landed on the omega cuddled up next to Bucky, he stopped. “Ah, is this our new guest?”

“Go away, Stark.” Bucky growled. He didn’t like how long the other man’s gaze was lingering on his omega, not when there weren’t any scars on her neck to show who she belonged to.

“Always such a charmer, Barnes.” Tony said, flopping down next to Steve. “Lovely to see you, too. Care to introduce me to your friend? ….No, you’d rather just snarl and forget your words? I knew you were old, but I didn’t realize you were actually a caveman.”

“Tony,” Bruce groaned. “Don’t aggravate him. Please.”

“Why not?” Tony leaned back against the cushions, completely at ease and totally happy to be pressing every one of Bucky’s buttons. 

“Are you Tony Stark?” Ten asked, wiggling out of Bucky’s grip to sit on the edge of their couch. 

Bucky caught her around the waist before she could get very far, though, and dragged her onto his lap. He loomed over her, sneering dangerously at Tony as the other alpha flashed a smile. 

“Bingo.” he said. 

“I never thought I’d meet a Stark,” she admitted. “I always heard about Stark Industries, but I lived too far away from any big cities to ever get to see any of his exhibitions.”

“Ah. You’re from my father’s time. Of course.” Tony shot a pointed glare in Bucky’s direction. “Seems like Bruce left out a few teensy weensy important details on the phone today.”

“Well, it’s been, uh...an ongoing learning experience.” Bruce said sheepishly. 

“Lots of developments, huh?” Tony raised an eyebrow. 

“You could say that.” Steve said under his breath. “We came up here so Ten could be more comfortable while we talk.”

“Oh yeah? What’re we talkin’ about?” Tony asked. 

“They were asking about my time with HYDRA,” she answered, cutting in before anyone else could. “And with...Bucky.”

Saying his name felt odd. Her tongue wasn’t used to it, and her mind wanted to call him alpha, or Winter Soldier. Bucky just seemed so…casual, such a strange thing to call a deadly super soldier. When she heard herself, though, she decided that she definitely didn’t hate it. 

Bucky’s heart gave a little leap at the sound of his name falling from her lips. He wanted her to say it over and over again, in whispers and in screams, for nobody else’s ears but his. 

“...Buck?” Steve asked, pulling him away from his thoughts. “You, uh, kinda zoned out there.”

It wasn’t until Bucky looked at Steve that he realized his eyes had been trained on the omega in his lap. “Yeah?”

“...Is this seriously how you’ve spent the past day and a half?” Tony asked. “Steve, I’m sorry, and I’m sure you’re just trying to be as helpful as you can be, like always, but I think you should let these two get a room.”

Steve looked at him incredulously. “Tony, really? I’m trying to get to the bottom of why exactly HYDRA would abandon the omega they pumped full of super soldier serum. They can get a room later—“

“Yeah, uh, wonder boy? I don’t think your pal is gonna last much longer before he tries to rip our heads off.” Tony nodded towards a very disgruntled Bucky. “You can resume your interrogation tomorrow, Cap.”

Steve looked to Bruce for help, but he only offered a small shrug and stood, heading towards the door. “He’s right, Steve. They deserve some alone time.”

“But—hey!” Steve protested as Bucky picked his omega up, striding past the two alphas sitting on the opposite couch. 

“Thanks for everything, Steve.” Bucky said over his shoulder. 

Ten squirmed, peeking around Bucky’s arm as she was carried away. “Bye, Mr. Stark!”

“Don’t look at him,” Bucky growled as they walked out the door. 

“Did his father really make hoverboards? I heard once that Howard was promising hoverboards—“

“No.” He said flatly. 

“...oh.” She huffed, slumping against him. “Where are we going?”

“My apartment.” Bucky stepped into the elevator, his grip still tight around her. 

The omega perked up. “You have a whole apartment?”

He puffed his chest out a little. “Course I do. Gotta have a nice place for you, don’t I?”

“So I can stay?” Her eyes were bright and happy. “I can stay there, with you, all the time? Not just when you rut?”

He felt a sad little pang in his heart. When he spoke again, his voice was low and soft. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Then, his eyes widened as he realized what he was saying. “I mean, uh...i-if you want to, that is. I know it’s fast and all, and maybe...would you rather have your own room? Or I can stay on the couch—“

“Bucky,” she cut him off with a laugh, a soft hand cupping his jaw. “You’ve been my alpha for seventy years. I’d say we’re actually moving pretty slow.”

His expression relaxed again, lips stretching into a small smile. “Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

They spent the rest of the elevator ride in comfortable silence, Bucky rubbing his scent glands all over her hair. He wanted to make sure that the next time they encountered anyone else, she smelled exactly like him.

Like her alpha.

When the elevator came to a gentle stop at Bucky’s floor, the doors opened, and he stepped out in front of his apartment door. It opened for him, having already scanned his biometrics, revealing a small, but cozy, living room. 

He set his omega down on her feet, watching anxiously as she stepped into his quarters. Did she like it? Fuck, was it too small? It was too small. She probably hated it. Fuck, fuck, fuck...he had to salvage this somehow. 

“Well, uh…” shit, he sounded too nervous. He wanted her to think he was a strong, capable alpha. 

He cleared his throat for another start. “Welcome home, Omega.” 

Wait. That wasn’t right. Should he be calling her that? No, probably not, it sounded too possessive, too uncaring. He wished he just knew her fucking name, or something. 

“I mean…Ten?”

Shit, he sounded so stupid. He wanted to impress her, not...do whatever this was.

She just laughed, though, turning and looking at him with those eyes that sparkled like starlight. “Amoretta. My name is Amoretta.”

[whump-town]

Tuesdays Hotchner Style

Waiting out the bag of saline hanging over his head, Hotch lays back on the bed and just enjoys this one second that he has to himself. Being a father is great, he loves every second of Jack’s curiosity and his attention to detail. He loves his team, even if he’s not sure he does well in how he shows that. However, between Jack's pre-teen temper and the team’s never-ending list of needs he rarely gets a moment to just breathe. No one asking to use his office or when dinner will be done. It’s almost nice.

Had he set out this morning to get hit by a car during his morning jog? No, but maybe that’s what he gets for entertaining the idea of taking some time off. He’s got a few bumps and scrapes but already knows his knee is going to give him hell for landing on it like he did. Not even the ice pack the nurse taped over it is doing a thing to squish the pain. He still needs to have his shoulder pulled back into the socket and his concussion assessed. In other words, he’s taking that time off but not like he’d planned.

They did give him a cherry popsicle and the nurse showed him how to lean against his pillow to keep the ice pack pressed against his head without having to hold it up. This place is better than most motels he’s stayed in. If the nice nurse says he needs to wait twenty more minutes for the saline bag to empty and she’s promising another popsicle then she’s won. Seems like a good deal to him. He was a lawyer, he’d know.

“Hey, sweetie.”

He blinks himself back to Earth. Peeling his eyes open and grunting, not having realized he’d managed to doze off. The nurse, the same one as before, steps into the little curtained-off area with a smile. “Sorry,” he slurs softly, motioning with his popsicle hand to where he’d managed to let some of it drip onto the white sheets.

She just smiles at him, “ honey, that’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She dismisses it with a wave and goes to her fluttering around him. The treatment he’s gotten used to since hobbling into here four hours ago. Replacing the ice pack at his knee she stops to frown at the purpling skin but it’s just bruised and swollen. Angry at its treatment. “How’s the arm?”

The concussion is probably worse than he’s led on if the current state of his consciousness is any proof. He’s just tired and this is like his version of a spa day. “Arm?” he asks, and he swallows thickly. Vaguely, he’s aware of his arms. The strange weight in his left hand where the IV is and the ice pack settled against his shoulder. It’s dislocated. It hurts.

“My arm,” he whispers, “I can… I can feel the fingers.”

She moves his hand, turning over his palm, and waiting for him to do as she silently asks and moves his fingers. He makes a fist, slowly closing each finger. She pats the back of his hand as she sits it back down, movements intact and coloration is alright. “I’m going to give you another sedative, some painkillers, alright? Then we’re going to get this shoulder back into the socket.”

Another? He… He can't remember the first.

“You’ve got some people asking for you out in the waiting room.”

He picks his head up, opening eyes he hadn’t realized had already slid shut again. “The team?” he mumbles.

She takes his popsicle out of his hand, it’s no good half-melted, and he’s falling asleep. “I don’t know about any team, darlin’, but there’s a whole crew.” She dispenses the drugs like promised and steps back. “Lemme think,” she’d seen them when she was stepping into the room. They’d asked for him but she can’t let all of them back here and she’d at least like to run the idea of them by Hotch first. “I used to smoke a lot of Virginia Slims in my day, there’s a fella out there that looks exactly like one. There’s two feisty brunettes. One about my age and the other looks like she eats bolts in her cornflakes.” She sighs, there’s more she’s certain. “There is a man out there who looks like he could have been sculpted by angels.”

He smiles at that, dopey and free. “Morgan,” he whispers, he knows it with a strong certainty. Who else could it be?

“Anyways,” she has moved away from her point. He’s probably ready to have that shoulder moved. “I can go get one of them if you’d like,” she offers. “It’ll be a painful but quick procedure. Still, most people like having someone.”

Someone.

He almost wonders if Garcia’s out there. She’s the end of the world sort. Even if she didn’t want to be back here she’d come with her flurry of colors and glitter. Hold his hand and make sure he got that other popsicle but no, no he won’t ask that of her. Can’t.

“I can always let them decide,” the nurse offers. “If that’s alright with you?”

He’s too tired, too disoriented to make the words work so he nods. She pats his hand one more time before moving back out the curtain. He can hear them talking, transforms their mumbling and their stiff silence to none of them wanting to come back here. Doesn’t hear Morgan and Emily fighting, neither wanting to be the one left out there. Both wanting to set their eyes on Hotch, to really make sure he’s okay.

His knee hurts, the drugs and the adrenaline are fading in and out and he’s tired. He turns his head back into his ice pack, rests the cut on his cheek against the plastic still cool from the water. Panted, short breathes leave his mouth and he wants nothing more than to sink into the bed. To disappear.

The curtain parts but he doesn’t hear it.

Dave steps in where the nurse directs, standing by the edge of the bed while she moves things where she needs them. He gets stuck, unable to move for a moment while he just looks at Hotch. The tears drying at the corners of his eyes and labored breathing, his agitated state.

“Aaron,” the nurse moves his good hand. Waking him without hesitation but still smiling when his tired eyes move slowly to concentration. To focus on her. “I brought you a friend.”

They’re back to the same old song and dance. Dave goes to the little space at the side of the bed, standing beside machines and things not currently in use. There nonetheless. Aaron looks up at him, sleepy eyes slowly blinking clarity back. “Hit by a car,” Dave mumbles. “Only you.”

Hotch smirks, “was running.”

Dave shakes his head, “again, who in his right mind?”

A doctor steps in, the little area of curtain overrun by white coats and stethoscopes.

Hotch gets nervous and looks hopelessly up at Dave. He’s scared. “Easy,” Dave takes his good hand. Making a quick understanding of his having been put on this side. “It’s just a little upset joint,” Dave assures him. “You’ve been stabbed and shot and blown up, you’ll be okay.” Hotch doesn’t look convinced but Dave doesn’t let go, he’s right there. Not going anywhere. “You’ll be okay, Aaron. I’m right here.”

It’s all medical nonsense from there on. The doctor introduces herself and the nurse nods her head, giving them the okay. Hotch is as drugged as he can be, relaxed under their touch so long as Dave isn’t more than a step away. He holds onto Dave so tightly he couldn’t get away if he wanted to. Part of him does, he’s not sure he wants to watch this. Hotch cries out when they pull on his arm, a sound that drowns out into a whimper. The sickening thunk of the joint sliding back into place. He tries to sit up, screams, and cries out as they check to make sure it’s gone where it needs to be. Their fingers digging into his skin. He cries out for Dave, to make them st0p.

“Easy,” Dave whispers. “Easy, easy.”

The doctors and the nurses leave as soon as their job is done, giving them nods as they go.

Dave brushes his thumb across Hotch’s forehead, frowning down at the tears. “Hang in there,” he whispers. “Behave a little longer and I’ll get you a milkshake, alright?”

His eyes peel back open at that, “promise?”

Dave shakes his head, “you’re a child, Aaron Hotchner, but yes, I promise I’ll get you a milkshake.”

“Hey-” both look to the curtain and after a second Emily’s head pops through. “Do we all get a milkshake?”

Dave rolls his eyes, “yes. Yes, sure.” They’re going to be the death of him. “Milkshakes for everyone, why not?”

The hard part is over.

He doesn't get another popsicle.

“Hey, Morgan?” Dave sticks his head out of the curtain and motions Morgan in. “We’re gonna need your help in here.”

Hotch groans, entirely too disoriented to completely stop himself from whining. He doesn’t want help, he just wants to go get a milkshake and go home. To his couch and his blankets and to clothes that don’t smell like blood and sweat. But there’s no winning, if he’s leaving he needs help. “Up on three,” Morgan encourages. He stops for a moment, makes sure his grip is good before bracing himself. One arm around Hotch’s back and the other bracing his front. “Ready when you are.” It’s more falling than walking but Morgan directs his fall straight into the wheelchair. “Easy Hotch,” but his head is a blur and he’s vaguely aware of Morgan gently lifting his legs up into the footrests.

“Damn,” Emily mumbles when Morgan pulls back the curtain and Dave pushes Hotch through. “Look like a Tim Burton doll.” Hotch grunts back at her. She tries to find a small silver lining, “but good, considering. Your hair is still pretty neatly styled and the road rash on your cheek makes you look distinguished.”

Hotch frowns but can’t turn his head to look at Dave so he just mumbles, “don’t think Emily has deserved her milkshake.”

“Hey!”

“Children,” Rossi interrupts before either can get any further. “Everyone is getting a milkshake, calm down.” He sighs, watching them fall in line alongside Hotch. “What flavors are we thinking?” Milkshakes and car wrecks… sounds like a regular old Tuesday to him.

[fidothefinch]

maybe it's enough (to know that we were here together)

For Dick & Damian Week 2021, day 2: "He's my son!"

I wrote this over the last two hours. Fair warning, it is not proofread. Title from Kina Grannis's "For Now," for fake-deep reasons.

(More warnings: this story strongly features hospitals and difficulty breathing (and poison). Please take care of yourselves and skip it if it will hurt you, especially because of the last year we've all shared <3)

Nightwing woke up with a gasp like it was the first breath he had taken in a long time. He floundered for a moment, instinctively worried he had just surfaced from Gotham’s harbor (it wouldn’t be the first time), but it only took one hard smack of his wrist to recognize the very solid ground beneath himself.

Panting, he leveraged himself to his side to empty his stomach onto the concrete.

Something was wrong. He tried to check his surroundings, but he was only able to make out grey blobs that may have been buildings and wildly swinging lights.

No, they weren’t swinging. That was just his vision.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could just will vertigo away. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to; growing up swinging from a trapeze conditioned him to enjoy the swoop in his stomach. But right now, he was either on a boat or drugged.

Sirens doppler-ed towards and away from him, somewhere down below. Definitely drugged, then.

He lifted one hand to his pounding head and was happy to find his domino was still in place. So were his gloves. But when he checked, he was missing an Escrima stick and a handful of wingdings. He grappled with his memory, trying to pull up some idea of what could have happened. A fight, obviously. But was he in Gotham? Blüdhaven? Somewhere overseas?

He flipped to his back and stared at the sky, still breathing like he had just run a marathon. Drawing in air was like drinking through a silly straw. Above him, the sky was a mottled green-black, the wind rolling the clouds inland. The motion threatened to make him sick again. He considered the merits of rolling to his side, just in case, when his eyes caught the flicker of a familiar shape against the clouds.

The Batsignal.

So, he was in Gotham. Now that he thought about it, that felt right. He could recall riding in earlier on his bike, the wind whipping through his hair, weaving through wild traffic. But traffic had been going the wrong way? Everybody had been leaving the island. . .

He sat up suddenly. “Robin!”

Sitting up was a bad idea. He pushed through his temporary blindness to wobble to his feet, anyway. “Robin!” he called again.

Damian didn’t answer. He was nowhere to be found.

More sirens rang down below him, passing in the same direction the last set had. Dick scrambled to the edge of the roof to watch the ambulance pass. What he found took his breath away. Cars lined both sides of the road, all headed toward the bridge that led off the island. All empty, abandoned. There didn’t seem to be a soul in sight, except the emergency response vehicles speeding down the clear sidewalks.

Everything snapped into focus, and Dick’s memory returned. Somebody had called the Gotham PD with a thirty-minute warning before releasing an aerosolized drug into the sewer system. Nightwing had sped into town as quickly as he could, and Batman teamed him up with Robin to cover the south quarter, and they had gotten separated—where was Damian?

Dick leapt off the building, shooting his grapnel as he fell to swing into a perfect arc to the ground. His bike wasn’t within eyesight, so it was too far. He took off, running after the ambulance.

Toward the hospital.

-

“Sir, you can’t be here.”

Dick had never seen the hospital so busy. Patients were lined up along the walls and hallways, crammed into the rooms like sardines. The staff actually ran between beds, looking haggard and exhausted already. Dick stood out like a sore thumb in his Nightwing gear, but nobody had the time or energy to move him.

Except the head nurse, behind the desk. “You have to leave,” she said. “We don’t have room.”

“Is Robin here?” Dick asked. He had scanned the pinched faces of the patients he passed on the way back into the ER, but nobody was familiar. He was almost thankful; the victims of the poison were sweating profusely and gagged on their own breath.

“I can’t tell you that,” the nurse said.

“I need to know that he’s okay,” he pleaded, leaning into his palms. They had been planted on the desk for stability, but now they were the only thing grounding him in his panic. “Please.”

All of Gotham was supposed to be evacuated, but there were still so many people too slow, too many people without a way off the island. When the threatened poison hit the city, there were too many people left behind. Nightwing had rushed over from Blüdhaven as fast as he could, but by the time he had joined the rest of the Bats it was too late. Half of Gotham was sick. Dying.

And somewhere in the panic, as noxious steam shot from the sewers and spilled from the vents, he had lost Robin.

The nurse studied his face, her lips pursed. “Robin was admitted two hours ago.”

Dick’s knees nearly buckled with relief (it had nothing to do with his legs feeling like jelly). “Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” Maybe the words were clipped, but he didn’t have time for this.

“No visitors. Hospital rules.”

“He’s just a kid!”

“Then maybe you should have helped him evacuate,” she said, levelling a glare at him that could melt glass. “Instead of encouraging him to run straight into the line of danger.”

Now Dick growled. “You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“I think he’s better off here than with you.”

“He’s my son!” Dick slammed his fist on the counter between them, making the nurse jump. He would have time to feel guilty about it later. “If you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll find him myself.”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, not getting any words out.

“Nightwing!” somebody else called. Dick spun around (too quickly), and another nurse was gesturing quickly behind herself. “I’ll take you to him.”

“Moira—” the head nurse started. But she wasn’t fast enough to catch Dick as he weaved through the maze of gurneys.

The nurse had dark circles under her eyes, and her bun was frayed. “Pediatric wing,” she huffed, already jogging down a wide white hallway. Dick followed, heart racing. “His oxygen was too low. He must have gotten a face-full of the stuff.”

“What does that mean?” Dick asked.

Her face screwed up. “He’s on a ventilator.”

Dick’s heart squeezed in panic at the words. He began to mentally prepare himself for what he would find.

The nurse he was following stopped abruptly, almost making him run into her. She flipped a hand at a set of double doors. “Stairs,” she explained. “You’ll have to go up to the third floor. Room 329.”

Dick didn’t question why she wasn’t coming; she had work to do. He nodded as he pushed through one of the doors. “Thanks.”

By the time he reached the third floor, he could tell that he had been dosed. Maybe not as badly as the other patients there, but three flights of stairs should have been child’s play for him. He arrived to patient hallway sweating and panting too hard, jelly legs making their displeasure felt.

There were doctors and nurses in this wing, too, but they were also scrambling too quickly to give him more than a passing glance. The crammed hallways on this floor were even more disconcerting, because the flushed, moaning faces were those of children.

None of them were the one he was looking for.

He forced himself to slow down, not able to bear the idea of passing Damian’s room and missing him accidentally. When he found room 329, he steeled himself before barreling through the door.

There were two beds crammed inside the small space, made possible only because the beds were child-sized. The smiling clouds painted on the ceiling were a harsh contrast to the dark, noisy machines wound around the beds.

Damian was in one of them.

Dick rushed to his side, sparing barely a glace toward the other child. Damian looked tiny, dwarfed by the size of the gurney and the mouth of the ventilator. His domino was in place, but somebody had flipped the screen over the eyes back, so Dick could see that Damian was asleep. The IV in his elbow connected to several bags, and Dick had no doubt at least one of them was a sedative. They would have to, to put him on the ventilator.

Dick snaked his gloved fingers into Damian’s bare ones and squeezed lightly. Even through the gloves, he could feel the smallest pulse.

He legs threatened to give out beneath him again.

And, well. Then they did.

A passing doctor saw him just as he had sprawled on the floor like a starfish. “Nightwing? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Dick shook his head, gesturing to his chest about the tightness still persisting htere. “Just dizzy.”

The doctor clucked his tongue, reaching out to the chair wedged into the corner. “Think you can get in this chair?”

Dick nodded (a mistake), and with the doctor’s help he was able to slide into the seat. The doctor flit out of the room and returned less than a minute later with a nasal cannula and oxygen tank.

Dick waved it away. “I’m fine.”

The doctor rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh, and I am, too.”

Dick didn’t fight it when she applied it. The steady stream of dry oxygen through his nose was a relief, and his head began to clear again almost immediately. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” the doctor waved.

Dick stopped her on her way out the door again. “Wait.”

She paused, obviously a little irritated at being interrupted.

Dick blushed in apology. “When will he be taken off the ventilator?” he asked, gesturing toward Damian, in the bed.

The doctor only shrugged. “When he’s ready.” And she left, hustling toward her next patient.

Dick pulled his glove off and ran his free hand through Damian’s hair, brushing back the strays. It was still damp with sweat.

However long Damian was asleep, Dick would be there when he woke up.

[quokkacore]

son of wolves IV [park chanyeol and byun baekhyun]

summary: your entire life, you’ve fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you’re infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it’s in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you’ve so grown to resent. it’s here that you begin to question everything you’ve ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, ANGST, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, war au, wolf!au

warnings: reader was drugged, language, MAJOR violence tw (gun violence and stabbing to be specific), animal death, threats of violence, loss of consciousness due to head trauma, body horror, horrible writing!!!

song recs: leave a trace - chvrches // lost it to trying - son lux // i will never die - delta rae // the legend of ashitaka - joe hisaishi // victory song - stray kids // pray for me // the weeknd & kendrick lamar // garden song - phoebe bridgers 

word count: 10.0k

a/n: im srry this is so late pls dnt hate me

this is the final chapter of sow!! i’m so glad i finally finished it. i love this fic, i really do. but this is SOO overdue.

main masterlist // story masterlist

A fog hung over your head. You could barely see three feet in front of you, and everything was hazy. What you knew was that you were in the inner circle—it wasn't as cold. The sound of paws and feet crunching against the snow wasn't that far away from you. It stopped a few seconds later.

"Hello?" You called, slowly walking towards the sound. "Chanyeol?"

Again, the sound of paws and feet, but this time in the opposite direction. You reeled, now unsure of which way to go. A sense of dread was beginning to pool in your stomach. 

"Sehun? Junmyeon?" Your voice was small and shaky, taking one step forward. "Chanyeol?"

You stood still, waiting for a sign, a sound. The forest was dead silent. When you tried to take a step forward, your body turned rigid. Every single hair on your body stood straight up. 

And then, you began to shake. Just as the fog cleared, and two figures appeared in front of you. Both of them beaten bloody, chests heaving, eyes burning with rage. Chanyeol's shirt was torn, and there was a cut running across his chest, staining the ruined fabric. Tears were streaking his dirt stained face. 

Baekhyun's left cheek was swollen, quickly turning purple. His right cheek was bleeding. But he seemed more steady. His sword was drenched in drying blood. 

And then you noticed the wolves. 

All four of Chanyeol's brothers lay dying all around them, warm crimson melting the snow as they bled out. You could hear them whining in pain as they did, legs twitching in pain. 

You tried to call out to them, but you choked on black tendrils, bursting through your throat. Your jawbone cracked as they did, tremors wracking your body as you gagged on your cries of pain. All you could do was watch in horror as they charged at each other, hurling curses and obscenities at each other. 

The tremors in your body intensified, your injured arm cracking as the black, oily coils shot forward, wrapping around your throat.

Spots danced across your vision, your head beginning to pound as you couldn't breathe. Your vision lost focus, eyes blurring with tears. 

The last thing you saw was Baekhyun's sword impaling Chanyeol's chest, the iron bursting through his back. As his younger brother's blood splattered across his face and neck, Baekhyun's face broke into a sadistic grin. 

A horrible laugh rang throughout the forest, and you awoke with a start, hands grabbing at your neck to unwrap inky coils that weren't there. You were sweating and your chest was heaving.

Slowly, you sat up, blinking furiously to allow your eyes to adjust to the sunlight. You could tell that it was still relatively early, maybe before nine.  When you caught your breath, you wiped the sweat off of your brow. Your throat felt itchy and your head was pounding. Getting up was one thing, walking to the door was another. You were disoriented and dizzy, nauseous, even. You jiggled the door, and sighed when it wouldn’t budge. 

You glanced towards the window, even though you knew it was too small for you to jump out of. Rubbing your temples and letting out a deep sigh, you tried to push all of the events of last night to the back of your mind, Baekhyun’s betrayal refusing to fade to the back of your head. You lay down on the bed again, processing everything you knew now.

You loved Baekhyun, you really did. Yesterday morning, when he had kissed you, you felt relieved that you were in his arms again. 

But Baekhyun’s kisses, contrary to what you had originally thought, no longer felt as comforting or as safe. Even before he had thrown you to the wolves, metaphorically speaking. Chanyeol’s lips on yours permeated your mind, the memory stuck in your head. 

You found that the more you tried to pull away from the thought of that tall, mysterious man, the tighter his grip became—deep down, you knew that only in coming closer would you be released. Vaguely, it reminded you of the toy your father had brought you once when you were a child, woven out of thin strips of bamboo. Sticking your index fingers in, and then trying to pull them out was impossible, as the toy stretched and its hold got tighter. However, when you pushed them together, the toy expanded, and your fingers were released.

Were three weeks even long enough to fall in love? Two, considering the fact that the first week he basically wanted to kill you? You weren’t sure. All you knew was that right now, Chanyeol’s safety, as well as that of his brothers and of Selyne, was all you wanted.

Your thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the front door. You turned to face the door, waiting with bated breath. Had they returned so soon?

You were disappointed when the bedroom door swung open, Yixing standing awkwardly in the doorway. He stared at you, emotionlessly, before he sighed and stepped inside. Your eyes watched his every move like a hawk, and scowled at him when he sat down on the chair where your clothes were. 

“I’m here to do a check-up,” He told you, “You’re still recovering.”

“What, from my cold induced madness or the huge stab wound in my back?” You spat. He looked down, face not changing. He almost looked ashamed.

“I’m sorry you see it that way.” His voice was quiet. “I brought you some food and some water. You can eat that and then we can get started. I know you must be hungry.”

He pulled out a bowl wrapped in fabric, as well as a canteen from his bag. When he showed you what was inside—rice and some beef—you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. After last night, you weren't sure you ever wanted to eat anything again. Yixing shook his head once he realized. Which meant he knew.

"There's nothing in it," He said, sounding earnest. "I promise, Y/N." 

You would have refused, but the pounding in your head seemed to be unending. It didn’t take long for your resolve to crack. You drank almost all of the water in the canteen, and you practically inhaled the meal. 

“The troops left three hours ago. About a hundred and twenty soldiers total. Baekhyun, Minseok and Jongdae are leading them,” He informed you, fiddling with his clothes and staring at the walls. 

You didn’t reply, too angry to do so.

When you finished, you allowed him to do his check up. He asked you about how you were feeling, how certain parts of your body felt, like your legs and your chest, if you’d been feeling dizzy or nauseous. He was done fairly quickly, and as he packed away the now empty bowl, spoke up again.

“Remember the time Jongdae dared me to sneak out into the Spearwood when we were younger?”

“When Minseok misfired and shot you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. How could I forget after the way your dad almost punched Min?”

He let out a soft chuckle, but there was no joy behind it. “I spent about three hours out there. I never told you guys, but I got lost pretty quickly. I panicked once I realized I didn’t know where I was. I thought I was gonna get killed by some animal in the name of the gods or something. You know how I panic.”

You nodded, humming, unsure of where he was going. “It was summertime,” He continued, “So it wasn’t as quiet as it is now. And about halfway through those three hours, I heard branches snapping behind me, and… this thing sounded big, Y/N. I-I just about shit my pants when I turned. Because I had never seen a bear so close to me before, and it was huge, and it was headed towards me.”

He looked up at you, eyes full of awe. “I was so freaked out, it didn’t occur to me to try and shoot it or to play dead or anything. All I could do was stand there, trying not to scream or provoke it. It walked right past me, and kept walking straight. I thought I should run or hide, until it turned back to look at me and… she spoke to me. Well, not speak, it was more like—”

“Like an echo in your mind,” You said, sitting up straight, “That… that was Mirren.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. “She wasn’t anything like they told us she would be. She was so… kind, and gentle. She knew I was afraid, and she promised she wouldn’t hurt me if I didn’t hurt her. And I was a 19 year old idiot who had a sword. I wasn’t going to try and kill a goddess. So I followed her, and she took me as far as she could without being seen. We barely spoke. But when she told me to keep going, because that was as far as she could go safely, I was so grateful. I… I never would have expected that kind of mercy and kindness from one of the gods, not after everything we were taught. And then twenty minutes later I got back to the wall and Minseok misfired.”

Yixing furrowed his eyebrows, staring at his hands in his lap. “That Chanyeol guy. He’s pretty much the only link between the human world and the forest, right?”

You nodded.

“So if he died or if Selyne died… the forest would lose its only possible bridge between the two. And that would make it harder for them to understand us, or to communicate easily.”

Again, you nodded. Yixing shrugged. “For us, that’s a good thing. The gods would have to communicate directly with us, and we could take them down when they’re vulnerable.”

You nodded, looking to the side and gnawing on the inside of your cheek. Why he felt the need to rub it in made no sense to you, why would he—

“Which is why it would be a shame if you were to escape.”

Your head snapped forward to look at him, eyes widening. He sighed, obviously nervous. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “It would be a shame if you were to overpower me and lock me in this room. An even bigger shame if you were to know that your bow and quiver are in the stables, and that the guards patrolling the east gate change shifts in about… fifteen minutes. A huge shame, really.” 

You just about stopped breathing, staring at him wordlessly. Yixing raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you going to do anything or do I have to knock myself out?”

“Why can’t you just say that I locked you in here?”

“What, you really think they’ll believe that?”

You stood up, shaking your head. He was right, but that didn’t make you feel any better about knocking Yixing’s lights out. “Thank you, Xing. I can never repay you.”

Yixing waved his hand. “You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. If anything, this is me repaying my own debt.”

You sighed shakily, and Yixing stood up. “Please don’t hit me too hard,” He said. You smiled, and shook your head, before throwing up your fists. Before you could do anything, he held up his hands. “W-wait, wait.”

“What?”

“Kick Baekhyun’s ass,” He ordered, “His head’s been getting too big for his shoulders, anyway.”

You smiled sadly, before nodding. “I’ll try,” You answered, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” 

Yixing shut his eyes, grimacing. “Do it.”

With one final deep breath, you swung at his temple, and Yixing fell to the floor. You checked to make sure he was knocked out cold, tapping his face slightly, and setting off when he didn’t come to. 

You changed into more suitable clothes to wear in combat, and slung on your snow boots and a dark blue cloak.

Before you left, you walked into the dining room, and looked towards the floor, before something glinting in the low sunlight caught your eye. Heart splintering, you picked up the necklace, and tucked it into your pocket.

This would have been so much easier if you’d been let out before the sun came up. You placed the hood of your cloak up, hiding your face and keeping your head down, hoping to not draw too much attention as you walked towards the stables. Thankfully, the path leading there was still relatively empty given that it was before ten. 

When you got to the stables, you found your bow and arrow hung on the wall, right next to Ivan’s stall. For a moment, you considered taking him with you, but decided against it. It would be too hard to sneak a reindeer out in broad daylight. You would simply have to run as fast as you could and hope that luck was on your side.

So you hid the weapons under your cloak, and made your way to the east gate, where, just as Yixing had said, the parapet atop it was empty. And once you had broken the lock, and were outside, you were gone. 

Immediately, you realized that the energy in the Spearwood was different. The air was crisper, seemingly even colder. If the forest had been quiet the first time you stepped into it, you could practically hear the sound of your blood rushing throughout your body. A few minutes into your walk, it began to snow, and you found yourself shivering already.

Once you were out of sight of the parapets, you removed your cloak briefly, placing the quiver and bow over it rather than under it for better access.

Being alone in the snow, with everything you knew now, filled you with an odd sense of nostalgia. If a month ago, someone had told you you would willingly march into the Spearwood to try and end the war, you definitely wouldn’t have expected this to be your course of actions, and you certainly would have expected to have different motives. 

You did your best to retrace your old steps, but the past 24 hours, the fact that it had been three weeks since you came this way, and the difference in lighting made it significantly harder. You walked for about forty minutes, cautious enough to listen for the footsteps of anyone who might have followed you from Ironbend.

And while eventually you did hear footsteps, they definitely weren’t from anyone you were expecting. The fast sound of paws thumping against the snow, racing at you from behind barely gave you time to turn and spot the giant mass of white fur bounding towards you. With a soft, “oomph!” you were tackled to the ground, tumbling a few times before finally landing on your back in the snow. You opened your eyes to meet a familiar gaze. 

We really have to stop meeting like this, y’know, Sehun declared as he stepped back, it’s weird.

“You’re the one that tackled me,” You argued, sitting up and brushing off the snow that was on your cloak. “What are you doing so far out of the inner circle?”

Sehun shook himself off, before staring at you seriously. Emergency patrol. Mama sensed danger. 

 “She was right,” You said with a nod, “Is she safe?”

Why would she be keeping herself safe? He sounded kind of exasperated. 

“Because she’s the target, Sehun. The three troops they brought out are looking for her.”

All of the playfulness in Sehun’s demeanor seemed to evaporate. Shit. Junmyeon knows where she is. Get on. I’m taking you to him.

You got on his back, and he huffed slightly at the new sensation of having to carry you. Sorry if it gets bumpy. I’m not really used to having people ride on my back... That’s usually Junmyeon’s job.

“Shut up, you overgrown spoiled baby,” You answered warmly, “It’s okay. As long as we get there in one piece.”

Did you get there in one piece? Kind of. You had to cling onto him and lower yourself to basically lie on his back. Otherwise you bounced too much and you risked falling off of him. The wind ripped your hood off, whipping your hair in the process and drying your eyes. 

He slowed down once he approached a clearing, where you could easily see the brown wolf standing in the white snow. He turned once he heard Sehun’s paws. When he noticed you, he seemed rather taken aback. 

Y/N? What are you doing here? Why did you even leave? He asked when you got off of Sehun.

“I needed to warn you. All of you. Selyne is in danger.”

She’s the warden of the forest, he pointed out, I think it’s an occupational hazard.

You sighed, annoyed at how willing the both of them had been to brush off your warnings so easily. “This is different. More than a hundred men are in the forest right now—all of them armed with guns, I might add—trying to find her, because they know that if she dies, Chanyeol loses his link to the forest and any hope for negotiation and bridging the spirit world and the human world is gone. You need to warn her, now.”

Junmyeon, evidently stunned speechless, looked between you and Sehun for a few seconds, before his gaze settled on you finally. We knew about the troops. We didn’t know about their plan. How did you find out? 

You pursed your lips. “My… I used to be close to their leader. He’s… the swordsman.”

Shit, Sehun swore. 

Fuck, Junmyeon agreed.

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes widened at the distant sound of the deep voice, turning your head to see Chanyeol, trudging through the snow. His eyes were wide, and when he recognized your face, he began walking faster. 

Of their own accord, your feet started moving in his direction. You ignored the voices of Sehun and Junmyeon trying to catch your attention. He sped up again, now making his best attempt to run to you, even though the snow passed his ankles. Your heart pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears, you sped up as well. As the distance lessened, you took in the familiar features. The pelt that kept him warm, the mask held back atop his dark hair, his cheeks streaked with blood he’d painted on, the round earrings dangling from his prominent ears.

Finally, he was within arms reach, and he reached out his arms the same way you did. His gaze was desperate, almost unbelieving that it was really you. The two of you collided, lips smashing against each other as his hands gripped you in several different places, like he was trying to make sure you were tangible. First at your waist, then your back, until finally, they gripped your face tenderly, calloused hands holding your face. Your hands wrapped around his neck, standing up straight to reach his lips. 

The state of catharsis his desperate kisses gave you confirmed it. You knew in your heart who you wanted. 

 When Chanyeol pulled away, you wiped away the snowflakes that had fallen on his cheeks and nose. “Y/N,” He murmured, “You came back.”

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

”I had to,” You said softly, nuzzling your nose against his cheek, “I needed to warn you about what’s coming.”

His face fell slightly when he heard your reasoning, but he didn’t step away. “Y/N, I… I shouldn’t have let you leave. A-and I shouldn’t have said those things I said. I was… scared. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, breaking away. “Right now, we can’t focus on that. I need you all to listen to me. I know what the troops are trying to do.” 

He nodded, eyes turning serious. “Come on,” He said, turning you to face the clearing. The two of you paused when you noticed the two other wolves sitting in the clearing, watching you bemusedly. 

I told you something happened, Jongin said to Kyungsoo, Now you owe me your next part of the hunt. 

Chanyeol scowled, and had this not been such a serious moment, you would have laughed. The two of you walked back over to the quartet, where you greeted them all properly. Not wasting any time, you went over the basics. How you’d been found by Baekhyun and taken back to Ironbend, what you told the Council in an attempt to get them to consider a truce, how you managed to escape. Baekhyun and his plan. The danger that Selyne was in, and by extension, the danger that Chanyeol was in. 

“She needs to hide, now,” You told them once you finished, “Chanyeol, you might need to hide, too.”

“I’m not going to hide,” He fired back. “This is my home. They’re threatening my mother. I’m not about to stand back and let them do it.” 

You stared at him, gripping his forearm. “Chanyeol, Baekhyun knows. He told me he would kill you.”

“And I’m telling you I’ll kill him.” Chanyeol’s eyes were wide, serious. “Y/N, I’m more expendable than Selyne is. If I die, it’s a major setback. If Selyne dies…”

It’s the beginning of the end for us, Kyungsoo completed, The magic of the forest will become unbalanced if it loses one of its Pillars. 

And if the magic of the forest becomes unbalanced, we lose our strongest wall of defense, Junmyeon agreed. It’s our job as our mother’s sons to lead in her place in moments when she can’t. One of those moments is now. Chanyeol has to fight.

You clenched your jaw. “Fine,” You bit out, “But someone needs to go warn Selyne, right now.” 

Chanyeol and I can go. Jongin, Kyungsoo, you both need to gather the other wolf packs. Call the bears as well, any other animals that can defend the forest. Foxes, coyotes, birds of prey, lynxes. Call the raccoons if you have to. This is life or death. Junmyeon straightened his posture. Sehun, you show Y/N how far the troops have gone. Stay hidden. Let’s rendezvous in an hour and wait for Kyungsoo and Jongin with the reinforcements.

  We’ll go as fast as we can, Jongin said, before turning to Kyungsoo. Let’s go. 

Sehun lifted his head to gaze at you. You heard him. Get on.

You nodded, turning to Chanyeol, who was about to get onto Junmyeon. “Wait.”

Chanyeol’s eyes softened as you approached him, reaching into your pocket. You tucked the necklace into the palm of his hand, closing his fist around it. “Be careful,” You begged him, “I didn’t betray an entire village just for you to get yourself killed.”

He gave a soft smile, his other hand grasping yours. “I’ll come back to you,” He promised. You peered into his eyes, wanting to say so many things.

Gross, Sehun interrupted, and Chanyeol’s smile disappeared immediately. “Don’t be a dick.”

He’s Sehun, Junmyeon mumbled, giving something akin to an eyeroll, Kind of impossible for him not to be. Now come on, we need to go now.

Chanyeol offered you one small, final smile, before he and Junmyeon sped off. 

You turned to Sehun, getting on his back. “Is it that hard for you to not be an asshole?” You asked, tone warm and teasing.

You all love me anyway, he replied. His cheekiness was not missed. The two of you took off immediately afterwards. You remembered to lower yourself and stay close to his back. Sehun explained that the magic of the forest was affecting the troops, leading them on the wrong path.

They’ve been going in circles for about two hours now, Sehun snickered, But we can’t just let them trample through the forest without teaching them a lesson. 

“Be careful once we get closer to their location,” You said into his ear, “They’ll probably have scouts patrolling within a few hundred meters of their formation on all sides.”

I’ll keep that in mind. 

The pair of you slowed to a walk, and you got off of him, pulling out your bow and nocking an arrow out of caution. Silence reigned over the forest, making the sounds of your boots crunching in the snow cringeworthy and deafening. The two of you were nearing the top of a hill, approaching its steep summit. As you approached it, the sound of stomping and snow crunching became louder and louder. You swallowed the lump in your throat, slowing significantly.

You stopped at the sound of a familiar shout. The boom of the voice actually made Sehun’s ears lower, the wolf flinching at the noise.

“Regroup!” Jongdae yelled, “We’ll stop for ten minutes.” 

You stared at Sehun, who in turn gazed at you before cocking his head at a large boulder that should give you both some cover. Slowly, as quietly as possible, you both approached the snow cap rock, before Sehun peeked over the edge of the rock. 

They’re at the base of the hill. If you’re gonna come over here, be careful. 

You leaned over the side of the rock, releasing the tension in the string of your bow. 

120 sounded like a lot of men, you realized, but the visual was somewhat underwhelming. They easily fit in the large clearing at the base of the hill. Seeing them all huddled together in the cold brought you an odd sense of comfort. 

Seeing Byun Baekhyun and his two lackeys had the opposite effect.

Baekhyun, Minseok and Jongdae were excellent military strategists. They were better than you, that was for sure, and you came from a long line of military leaders. They worked even better when the three of them worked together. In previous campaigns in other places, they’d done great damage with even smaller troops. You knew damn well that they would turn this relatively small group into a well oiled killing machine, and use each man to the best of their ability.

Still, you knew they had some weaknesses in their formations. Every formation did. They were very susceptible to being attacked from the back. It would catch them off guard very easily. 

What are you thinking? Sehun asked.

“They can be very vulnerable from the back,” You whispered, “This is their standard formation. I doubt they’ll change it now that they’re this deep—takes too much time, lowers their guard. See the back line? Those are the reserves. They’re generally the strongest men, but they’re more spread out. That’s where Baekhyun, Jongdae and Minseok are, also—their leaders. The ones meant to be fodder are generally put on the front line.”

That’s… interesting. But an attack from the back would mean taking out a small group of strong opponents, and then fighting a larger group. That’s… not ideal. We would tire ourselves out.

“There are bound to be more than 120 animals in the forest willing to defend it,” You pointed out. “They’re used to combat at a distance, especially with the shoulder guns. If we can approach them and overwhelm them, we might just be able to get them to retreat.” 

You watched as Baekhyun, Jongdae and Minseok had a quiet discussion between the three of them, Jongdae’s hands gesturing wildly. 

“Jackasses,” You grumbled, before stepping back safely behind the boulder. “Have we seen enough?” 

I think so. It looks like they’re going to keep heading west. Which is good. Mama’s den is east. Let’s get back to the rendezvous point. 

You nodded, exhaling softly. You stole one last glance at Baekhyun before you and Sehun trudged down the hill, putting some distance between the troops and you both before you mounted the wolf and broke out into a run. You kept your eyes open as he ran, hoping the winds would dry the tears in your eyes.

You were the first ones back in the clearing. 

“You’re sure we’re in the right place, right?” You asked, just to be sure. Sehun sat, shaking some snowflakes off of his snout. This is where the pack scent is strongest, and I can still see the tracks from where we all split up, so yes. And look, that’s where you and Chanyeol… swapped spit.

“And you say Chanyeol and I are the gross ones.”

Sehun laughed. Well, that’s what it looked like! Human displays of affection are so odd. At first I thought you were trying to eat each other.

You shook your head. “No. Not at all,” You answered with a laugh, “It’s actually—”

Sehun’s head turned, ears perking up. Your speech died in your mouth, watching as a few seconds later, Chanyeol and Junmyeon came into view. They made their way into the clearing, and stopped right in front of you. Chanyeol slid off of Junmyeon’s back, stretching his legs when he did.

It took her some convincing, but Mother is safe. She’s in one of her secret dens, just in case. 

You sighed in relief. “Good.”

We also found Beval and Emyr on our way there. We made sure to warn them.

Well, what did they say? Sehun asked.

Beval is rounding up the birds of prey as we speak. He’s also sending them some heavy snowfall and winds—he called it a welcome gift.

You smiled as the remark before Junmyeon continued. Emyr is rounding up the deer, and he’s sent out a message to any smaller animals to stay in their dens. The deer will be joining us, but they’ll stay at a distance so they can treat the injured.  

“Selyne sends her blessing,” Chanyeol added, looking at you.  “She also wanted me to return this to you.”

Chanyeol stretched out his hand, holding out a familiar black sheath with a leather band. The silver guards and the pommel of the sword seemed to glow in the daylight.

 “So that’s where that went,” You mumbled, more to yourself. You looked up at Chanyeol after you had grabbed the sword. “Thank you.”

He waved his hand. “This is important.”

So, what now? Sehun asked, Wait for the reinforcements?

I suppose so, Junmyeon answered, before eyeing you and Chanyeol. He turned to face Sehun. Mother actually wanted me to talk to you about something. Come on, let’s go. 

What on earth could she want you to nag me for at a time like this? I—

Junmyeon bared his teeth, growling in a move that surprised the three of you Sehun’s words died abruptly. Sehun, he hissed, eyes darting between the youngest wolf, and you and Chanyeol, Come on. 

...Oh. Oh! Okay. Yeah. It’s probably that… thing I was talking about with her yesterday. Okay, yeah, let’s go.

The two wolves stalked off, Junmyeon nagging the entire time.

You looked up at Chanyeol, before tying the leather band securely around your waist. “Alright, we have some time to kill. Do… do you wanna talk about that night?”

Chanyeol slumped forward, looking downwards. When he looked back up, he nodded. You leaned against a tree, crossing your arms.

“I was an ass,” Chanyeol admitted. “I was unfair to you. But… I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just… I was terrified. I’ve never felt so vulnerable with someone else, before.”

“Chanyeol…”

“I love you. I don’t—I don’t know when or how it happened. And I was so angry when I didn’t go after you. And then when I finally did, it was too late. We didn’t find you. I just… lost it kind of.”

He showed you his right hand, where the knuckles were bruised and cut.

“What did you even do, punch a tree?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.  

He pursed his lips, ears turning red. “Well…”

You bit back a laugh, and tried hard to hold back the smile trying to break onto your face. 

“Oh, gods.”

“Shut up,” He huffed, trying to hold back his own smile now.

“You’re… you’re really something,” You said. Chanyeol shrugged and his face fell again.

“I fucked up. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” You countered, “I was scared, too. Terrified. But after everything that’s happened since then, I know what I want. I want to stay here, with you, and I want to protect this place.”

“Y-you’re gonna stay?”

You looked down, shutting your eyes. You thought over the life you’d had in Ironbend, all of the friends and family you’d ever known. All of them united under one cause, and here you were, about to throw it all away. Guilt swam in your chest at the idea of having to consider them enemies.

“I want to be with you,” You hummed, grabbing his hand, “And if they knew about us, they would kill me.”

His hand squeezed yours. “I’m not going to let them.”

You smiled sadly. “I’m not going to let them hurt you, either.”

He opened his mouth to say something, when the sound of rustling in the distance caused him to turn his head. Instantly, the two of you reached for your weapons.

It’s them, Sehun called, running back into the clearing. It’s time.

You looked at Chanyeol, who squeezed your hand again. “Let’s do this.”

This would have been a lot faster had it been summer. So many animals were hibernating, and while there were still more animals than there were humans, you still wondered whether or not it would be enough. These animals didn’t have the types of weapons that the humans did, save for your sword, bow and arrow, and Chanyeol’s dagger. 

A total of 361 animals showed up. Chanyeol’s four brothers, and a total of 97 wolves from different packs scattered throughout the Spearwood, for a total of 101 wolves. It made sense to you that the majority of animals would be wolves, given that Selyne was the one that was threatened the most. Other troops included 51 birds of prey, 46 foxes, 29 coyotes, 32 bears, 55 deer, 19 raccoons, 11 lynxes and surprisingly enough, 17 squirrels. 

You weren’t sure whether to be surprised by the fact that squirrels had decided to show up or that the vast majority of them—along with the raccoons—came armed with relatively large jagged rocks to throw at the small army. 

At first, the animals were skeptical of your plan. You didn’t blame them. A human, a foreigner, trying to lead them into battle? It didn’t sound safe.

The plan was simple enough. Wait until the troops reached one of the streams, so that it would be difficult for them to cross. Start an aerial attack with the birds of prey, the squirrels and the raccoons, then the front line of animals would attack the back line. The second, third and fourth lines would attack all around, and eventually the lines would open up towards the north, in an effort to push them back. The deer would be waiting past the stream, out of sight, waiting to work on the injured with their magic. You made sure to explain to them how the guns worked, and what needed to be done to heal the wounds. 

The troops would be given a wide berth on all sides. The signals to attack would be given via howls, or in the case of the birds of prey, a screech.

Each wolf would be leading from a different direction. Junmyeon would be leading the front line with Chanyeol. Jongin would lead the second line, Kyungsoo the third, and Sehun the fourth lines. 

You would be on the front line as well. As the groups separated, the forest seemed to fill with fog. You followed Junmyeon and Chanyeol, who were following the scent of the human troops as they led your group of about 50 or so animals. The only sound you could hear was the sound of snow crunching beneath you. You could barely see anything as the fog hanging overhead seemed to seep into the forest the closer and closer you got. You tried desperately not to think of your dream. 

The wind blew harder as well, whipping your hair every which way, drying your eyes. Snow fell even heavier. It became slightly harder to trudge through it.

As your group came to its waiting point, one of the birds—a hawk, you saw—flew overhead before flying back up into the fog overhead. That was the signal to stop and wait.

Junmyeon stopped, turning back to the group. Chanyeol held his hand up, signalling for everyone to stop and wait. 

You couldn’t see the troops yet, but you knew that they weren’t too far away. The dense treeline simply made it difficult to see anything that wasn’t a hundred meters away. All you could do now was wait. Your eyes met Chanyeol’s for a second, and he flashed you a soft smile. You looked him once over, your heart doing a backflip when it saw the opal necklace resting against his shirt.

“Be safe,” He mouthed at you, and you nodded as he pulled down his mask. 

“You, too.”

The silence of the forest was shattered by a gunshot. You both turned to face the direction the sound was coming from, which was straight ahead. You forced yourself to take deep breaths, flexing your fingers. Your fingertips were numb from the cold. A second gunshot echoed through the forest, your stomach began to sink.

Gripping your bow, you tried to recall how many bows you had in your quiver. 35, 36? No more than 37, that was for sure.

Y/N, You heard Junmyeon say, flinching when a third gunshot came. You nodded once in his direction. Get on. Chanyeol will get off once we’re close enough. Your bow won’t work up close. 

“Okay,” you mumbled, approaching them slowly. “We’re not too heavy?”

It’ll be fine, the wolf huffed, Just don’t take too much time with those arrows.

“Got it,” You answered, getting on, right behind Chanyeol. You made a mental note to suggest a saddle for them—if they knew what a saddle was, anyway. 

“Hold on to me,” Chanyeol murmured, “Don’t pull out your bow until I say so.”

You nodded. “Be careful. Both of you.” 

A fourth gunshot sounded, and you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“I’m gonna kiss you so hard when this is over,” Chanyeol whispered.

Gods, Sehun’s right, Junmyeon grumbled, You two are disgus—

A shrieking noise rang across the forest, and all of the hairs stood up on your body as you registered as the sound of a hawk’s screeching.

Now! Junmyeon yelled, beginning to charge forward, all of the other animals running behind you.

“Wait for my signal,” Chanyeol told you, “Stay alert.”

You didn’t reply, too focused on thinking about what was about to happen. As Junmyeon and the other animals weaved through the trees, you began to see something in the distance, barely outlined in the fog. Two more gunshots sounded, sparks glowing for a split second in the mist, perfectly giving away their location. 

They were closer now. You could hear murmuring, shouting. The sound of running water, albeit a bit softer than the voices. Any second now, they would hear you.

“Now!” Chanyeol told you, as a large, dark mass came into view, slightly blurred by the fog. You pulled away from Chanyeol, pulling off your bow and nocking an arrow quickly.

“What is that noise!?” You heard a voice yell. You couldn’t recognize who it was.

“STAND FIRM!” A loud voice ordered. Jongdae. 

A single figure burst into view, and you knew it had to be a scout. The young man turned, and his eyes widened when he spotted you, grimacing as you aimed your arrow at him. 

His mouth opened wide, and he began to screech, “From the nor—!”

Your arrow pierced his chest, and you forced yourself to look away as he fell to the ground.

“The north!” You heard Baekhyun say, “FACE NORTH! NOW!”

You pulled out another arrow and nocked it as well, just as the troops appeared in your line of vision. You spotted Baekhyun almost immediately, but couldn’t bring yourself to aim directly at him. Instead, as the animals charged, you let it fly into someone right behind him, hitting the man straight in the eye. The arrow whizzed past Baekhyun’s head. His eyes widened momentarily when he saw you on top of the wolf, sitting behind Chanyeol’s familiar face, before it twisted into a hateful sneer. 

“Attack!” He cried, “Fire, NOW!”

The first gunshots were fired, thick rocks still raining down on the men, hawks and eagles swooping down to claw at their faces. 

As Junmyeon turned, he slowed down enough for Chanyeol to jump off. The man pulled out his dagger, charging straight for a soldier of similar stature. 

Your turn, Y/N, Junmyeon said, You run out of arrows and I’ll call in the second line. 

“On it!” You answered, aiming another arrow. 

The two of you made an unlikely duo, working surprisingly well. Junmyeon knew to run slightly away from the fighting, because up close your arrows wouldn’t be much help. Running parallel to the front line, you fired arrow after arrow into the crowd. You even managed to get him to dodge a few bullets. One grazed his side, causing him to yelp, and you countered by sending your arrow into the neck of the man who shot at him. 

Truthfully, you tried not to aim at the people you knew. It was too difficult, seeing their shock and the look of betrayal cross their faces for a split second before you fired your arrow. But that was difficult, because everyone knew you, the same way they knew their father. 

You couldn’t imagine what they must have been thinking, to see someone who they thought would become their leader in the future fighting alongside their supposed enemies. 

All around you, chaos reigned. The rock flinging had slowed down, but birds were still diving down to attack men at random. The men at the other side of the troops were trying to spread out, to extend the front line, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. In the distance you watched two men try to fend off a grizzly bear. You had to turn your attention elsewhere, but from the looks of it, they weren’t winning.

Soon enough, you were down to your last arrow. Which, in a way, was good, because you could tell Junmyeon was beginning to slow down. The sooner he had less weight to carry, the better.

Do you see Chanyeol? Junmyeon asked, and your eyes scanned the front line, stopping when they landed on Chanyeol fighting hand to hand with a soldier. He was on the other side of the battlefield. “I see him,” You answered, “Junmyeon, let me off now and call in the second line!”

What about you? He asked as you slid off his back, firing your final arrow into a man aiming at a bar, cringing when you recognized him as the baker’s son. “I’ll be fine,” You insisted, slinging your bow across your chest, before pulling out your sword, “Just call them, now!”

Taking off before he could answer, your legs set off. As you ran, you assessed the damage. Some animals lay injured or dying, others running off as they got injured, probably to circle around to the deer.

Your breath puffed out as you made your way towards Chanyeol. You heard people call your name, some even calling out for help, but you refused to spare them any glances. You wondered if they had seen you charging in… they probably hadn’t.

When you were about fifty meters from Chanyeol, someone stepped in front of you. Looking up to meet their eyes, you saw Minseok, holding his spear up and eyeing you defensively. 

“Get out of here and they might just let you live,” He grunted. You held your sword out, eyeing the movements of his right arm. 

“As if you would let the gods live,” You quipped, “In the grand scheme of things, I’m no one.”

“Y/N, I don’t want to have to do this.” His voice was shaky, glancing to the side to avoid your eyes. “We’ve been friends for years, I would never forgive myself if I had to—”

Thwap! You turned the blade so that when you hit him with it, the flat end hit the side of his head. The edge still drew some blood, though, and Minseok stumbled back, giving you just enough time to lift your leg, kicking him square in the chest. He stumbled back even further before falling to the ground, breathless. You hopped closer, hoping to knock him unconscious without hurting him too much.

Looking at him, your heart ached. As you lumbered over him, grabbing the collar of his shirt, you frowned. “I’m sorry,” You murmured, before knocking his head into the ground once, twice, three times, until his eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp.

You had no time to check whether or not he was still breathing, instead standing straight up and taking a deep breath before starting to run again. As you did, you heard Junmyeon’s howl echo across the forest. Weaving through the trees, you knew more help would be here soon. 

And it did, the second line appearing towards the south within a matter of seconds, sandwiching the troops between two groups of animals. As you got closer to Chanyeol, you felt something pull you back by the cloak, letting out a yelp as you fell to the ground. You fell on your butt, pain traveling up your back. Looking back to see what had snagged your cloak, you watched as Baekhyun ran past you in an attempt to get to Chanyeol, who had his back turned as he fought off another man. Baekhyun didn’t so much as spare you a glance.

You stumbled to your feet, eyes widening as you watched Baekhyun pull out his sword. Your feet somehow seemed to fly across the snow, your body going into overdrive. You’d seen this strategy before. Someone would distract the target, only for Baekhyun to come in and strike them down from behind.

You knew what would happen if you didn’t stop it. Slowing down for only a moment, you picked up a large rock that had to have hit some poor man in the head. Not even hesitating, you chucked the bloody rock at Baekhyun’s feet, causing him to stumble. 

That gave you the advantage, making a beeline in front of him, practically back to back to Chanyeol. Your smaller sword met Baekhyun’s with a loud clang, the look on his face turning incredulous when he saw that it was you. 

Baekhyun had always been a better swordsman. Every time you had asked him to help you train, it always ended with him pinning you down. But right now, you couldn’t afford to lose. You simply couldn’t.

“You just had to come and ruin everything,” He grunted, countering with a parry. You blocked it, your swords sliding against each other. You pushed him back, breathing heavily. 

“I’m not gonna let you destroy this place,” You answered. He let out a scoff.

“What are you gonna do, huh? You never miss a shot,” Baekhyun growled, “And yet you missed me. What is it, honey, still got a soft spot for me?” 

Your swords met again, your arms buckling with the strain. You couldn’t meet his eyes, you realized as your eyes filled with tears.

“We have you outnumbered. Call off the attack now,” You pleaded, sounding too desperate for your own good, “It’s not too late, Baek—”

“Oh, darling, I’m not stopping, not until I destroy all of it. Not if I have to burn—” His sword slashed forward, barely missing you as he roared, “—The entire Spearwood to the ground, not if I have to burn down all of Ironbend to get rid of every piece of fucking vermin in this place.”

You stepped forward, tears burning your dry eyes, and that was your mistake. In your attempt to parry, he sidestepped you, knocking you to the ground with a harsh shove. Your blade fell out of your hand, landing in the snow.

As you fell to the ground, you met Baekhyun’s gaze for the first time since your swords clashed. You were surprised to find tears streaking down his face, as well. His eyes looked like that of a wild animal, bewildered and desperate as he lifted his sword, ready to come down at you.

“And if I have to kill you too, my love?” He let out a single humorless laugh, a sad, cold smile gracing his beautifully twisted features, “So be it.” 

Your eyes squeezed shut as his sword began to fall, curling into yourself as you did. You didn’t want your last sight of the man you once loved to be this distorted image of him, drunk on the pursuit of power. All you wanted was the end.

Only, the end never came. Not in the way you expected it to, at least. Because a split second later, you heard Baekhyun gasp, and a deep, guttural groan came from above you. 

Your eyes snapped open, face contorting into an expression of horror as you saw the tip of Baekhyun’s sword peeking out of Chanyeol’s back, dripping blood. You watched as Chanyeol lurched forward, Baekhyun pulling off the mask, glaring up at his long lost brother with what you could only describe as bitter rage.

“You look just like the old man,” He muttered spitefully, “Go figure.”

Chanyeol didn’t answer, groaning out before coughing. Blood spilled from his lips. 

Your heart began to pound, and all of the noise around you seemed to fade into nothingness. All you could focus on was the blood staining Chanyeol’s tattered shirt a dark red, dripping onto your pants and his white pelt. The only noise you could hear was your own labored breathing and your blood roaring in your ears, not feeling the trembling in your necrotic arm.

You barely even registered the ear shattering wail that echoed across the battlefield, inky black tearing at your skin as they branched out everywhere. Your eyes rolled up back into your head, your body convulsing. 

You didn’t see the way they wrapped around every being within a thirty meter radius, squeezing with a vengeance. You didn’t see the way the wolves, who were on the other side of the battlefield stopped in awe to watch as you attempted to destroy everything in your path. You didn’t see Baekhyun get ripped away from Chanyeol, getting lifted some ten feet into the air as his eyes widened in terror, because he had only ever seen you hold back one of these fits. You didn’t see the few men who weren’t in your grip freeze, only able to watch as men and animals alike struggled to free themselves from you. 

You didn’t see. But Chanyeol did. He watched as all of this happened in less than ten seconds, before one tendril pulled out the sword, causing him to tumble to the ground right next to you. He fell to his hands and knees, wheezing and spitting out more blood that fell from his mouth.

When he managed to register what was going on, he crawled over to you, one hand pressing down on a rapidly bleeding stab wound he couldn’t even feel due to the adrenaline rushing through his body. He watched as your hand bent back and forth, contorting impossibly. Cringing at the sound of the cracking bones and your incessant screaming, he leaned over you and reached out his free hand. 

If this didn’t stop, you would kill everyone and everything in your grip and get yourself killed in the process. He grabbed your free hand with all the strength he could muster, trying to ignore the stiffness in your joints. His fingers tried to get your own fingers to grip the opal on your necklace, but nothing happened. 

“Please,” He wheezed, “Please, Y/N.”

With your cries ringing in his ears, he ripped his hand from the stab wound and touched your necklace, staining your neck red as he did, before bringing your hand to his neck, from where a second opal was dangling. His necklace, the one you had returned to him only an hour or so prior.

He coughed, cringing again as blood splattered across your face. “I’ve got you,” He croaked, “That—that night, when you asked me to make it stop, Y/N, I’m—I’m here, I’m trying. Please.”

Your screaming began to quiet, and his voice dropped to a panicked whisper. “Pl—please, Y/N. Please.”

He knew it must have taken less than a few seconds, but it truly did seem like an eternity to him. The tendrils recoiled back into your arm, letting go of all of the creatures you’d had in your grip. Baekhyun fell into the snow a few feet away from you, the wind knocked out of him. Your screaming stopped, and your bones snapped into place, but your sobs didn’t stop, not as your body wracked with pain as the aftershocks kicked in. 

The shock wore off on the remaining men within a minute or so, most of them beginning to flee north, dropping their weapons as they went. Jongdae came forward, already having guided an unconscious Minseok onto his reindeer. “Baekhyun, we have to go now.”

Baekhyun looked up, breathing unevenly. “No, not before I kill h—”

“There’s no time!” Jongdae barked hurriedly. “He’s gonna die anyway, look at what you did to him. And the more you stay, especially after everyone heard what you said about burning Ironbend to the ground, the worse it’s gonna be for you. So get on the damn reindeer, now.” 

Baekhyun faltered, sneering before hurrying onto the reindeer. Your eyes cracked open as Jongdae got on the third reindeer, and they rode off north, presumably to lick their wounds and try and explain everything to the council.

You looked up, just as Chanyeol toppled over on top of you. You ignored the screaming in your arms and the tension in your jaw as you rolled the pair of you over, eyes brimming with tears again when the smell of blood hit your nose. 

He looked so pale, beneath you. Your hands pulled his head gently onto your lap, before one of them began cradling his head. The other tried desperately to press down on the wound, but the stiffness in your arms didn’t help much.

“You can’t die like this,” You whispered hoarsely, “I just came back.”

He managed to quip a smile. “You’ll be alright,” He crooned, one hand limply. “It’s—it’s your turn now, to ride with my br—my brothers.”

“No,” You begged.

Chanyeol! You both turned your heads as the four brothers in question ran up to the both of you.

“Hey,” Chanyeol murmured, as if he wasn’t bleeding out beneath you, “That wasn’t... very fun. I… I don’t wanna do that again.”

You idiot, Junmyeon said, voice trembling, the usual chastising tone he had now empty. What’s mother gonna say when she finds out you went and got yourself killed?

You can’t die, you ass, Sehun added. You can’t.

He’s not going to. 

Your head snapped up, just in time to watch two figures leap into view, a third lumbering behind them, a fourth flying overhead. Quickly, just as everyone else registered that it was the gods, your head bowed in respect.

Beval landed on a branch overhead, the fog clearing. Selyne and Emyr stopped before you, as Mirren began to round up the remaining animals, directing them across the stream.

Chanyeol, Selyne murmured, tone anxious. You never would have expected that from her. What have you done?

“What I had to do to keep you all safe,” He answered, meeting the she-wolf’s gaze. His eyes moved to look at Emyr. 

“My king. I’m sorry for all the loss the forest has felt today.”

Emyr shook his head.  It will mourn, but it will forever be grateful for the sacrifice you all made to keep it safe. We will honor you. Heroes, all of you.

You were trembling as you kept your head down, trying to memorize each corner of his face. Every mole, every blemish, every eyelash.

Even you, Y/N.

Your head snapped up, meeting the gaze of the deer god with your tearful eyes. “Th-thank you, great king,” You replied, “But we only did what was right.”

Indeed. But I do believe you deserve more than honor. You’ve sacrificed much. Daresay, I think you’ve proved yourself to me and to the forest.

You didn’t know why your heart sank. Despite this being what you set out to do, you didn’t feel victorious. “Oh,” You murmured, unsure what to say as Chanyeol shifted his head below you.

Oh? Selyne quipped, You’re being bestowed a gift by a god and that’s all you can say?

“I don’t want it,” You blurted, more tears running down your face. You couldn’t control your mouth even if you wanted to, shaking your head. All you could do was weep and stare down at Chanyeol. The light in his eyes seemed to be getting dimmer. “Give it to him, please. He’s done more for this forest than I ever could. Please heal him, my king, please.”

Fascinating. You would allow yourself to die if it meant that Chanyeol would live?

“Y/N, don’t do this,” Chanyeol whispered. You shook your head at him, before nodding at Emyr. 

“Yes, absolutely, yes. Without a doubt. Please don’t let him die.”

What would happen to us if I, as the king of this forest, simply allowed all of my subjects to live in their time of dying? Maybe this is for the best, child. This is his fate.

“No, I can’t let that happen!”

Why not?

“Because I love him. Please, please don’t let him die.”

Emyr stared at you for a long time. Until finally, he gave you the closest thing a deer could give to a smile. Very well, he agreed. You’ve learned, girl. You’ve let go of your pride and you have sacrificed everything you previously had for our home. I will heal him… and I will heal you, as well. You’ve earned it. Both of you.

You sighed in relief, slumping over Chanyeol. The deer god approached you both, before pressing something akin to a kiss on your forehead, and then doing the same thing to Chanyeol’s hand. 

 For a moment, nothing happened. But then, your body seemed to sing as it jumped into the air of its own accord, Chanyeol right next to you. You watched as the wound began to close, before you felt the sensation of a weight being lifted off of your shoulders. Your eyes moved to your arm, watching as it returned to its natural color, the scars of the bite Sehun had given you fading. 

You landed on your feet, managing to catch Chanyeol before he fell to the ground. He groaned, slinging his arm around your shoulder. 

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” He admitted, “But I’ll live.” 

He faced Emyr. “Thank you, my king. I can never fully repay you for what you’ve done.”

So long as you continue to protect us as you have all your life, consider your debt repaid. 

You bowed your own head in respect. “Thank you. I promise to protect the forest until the day I die.” 

I never would have expected it to end this way, Selyne said. I never thought I would thank you for saving my son and protecting me.

You looked at Chanyeol, who smiled weakly at you.

Um, I hate to ruin the mood, Kyungsoo mumbled, But they didn’t actually surrender. They retreated. They’ll be back. What’ll we do then?

Your smile faded, heaving a deep sigh. Baekhyun was still out there, currently on his way back to Ironbend—but he wouldn’t get off easily for essentially leading 120 men on what as basically a suicide mission and getting more than half of them killed. And he would definitely get in trouble for what he told you about being willing to burn Ironbend to the ground. 

With luck, this would mean severe consequences for him. His reputation would likely suffer, and he might even get booted from the council. But now that you were gone, who was left to govern after your father passed away? You could only hope someone like Yixing would pass on to lead. 

Truthfully, you weren’t sure how to answer. But in your silence, Chanyeol spoke up, reaching for one of your hands and squeezing it tightly.

“We’ll be alright,” He said, “Come what may—we’ll be alright.” 

taglist: @delightpcy​ @chanyeolscoon​ @xxbluestrifexx​ @imsoba​ @chogiwhy127​ @always-wishing-for-rain @riajae​

[p0gue420]

Hold me

Requested: @wanniiieeee​

summary:the band sunset curve fall into a coma what will happen next read and find out.

word count:1580

A/N: I was really deep into a depressive state writing this so sorry its bad!

Warnings:not a warning but reader can touch the boys

pairing: Luke Patterson x reader 

“Maybe I’ll try tonight…” Julie finishes talking to Ray, Flynn and I rush from the top of the stairs back to Julies room after listening to the saddened voices speaking about moving.

“Quick, act natural.” Flynn whispers as we hear Julies footsteps coming up; we both unpreparedly get into the most unnatural position, trying to act “Natural”. Jules walks in furrowing her eyebrows after a glance at the two of us.

I pick at my nails pretending to be casual as I try to spark a not so subtle distracting conversation. “Hey Jules, funny seeing you here..” I say looking up curiously.

“You heard?” she says blankly.

Flynn and I turn to each other; she stands up from the edge of the bed stalking slowly to the girl with big slippers.” If by “heard” that, you mean the fact, we get to go through the cool stuff in the loft...then...yeah.” she says with a smile on her face as she rubs the girl’s arm in comfort.

I stand from my spot at the desk wrapping my arms around the girls, putting our heads together.

“We can all do it together Jules... if that would help…” I nudge the girl’s arm putting a small smile on her face. She leans her forehead on mine, speaking up. ”That would be nice.”

__________________________________________________

“Woah dude how did we get back here!” The shaggy-haired boy says after sputtering up a cough looking around as the other two guys check out the studio. Flynn, Jules, and I scream growing terrified of the new presence in the room; The guys begin to join in on the screaming scared of the sudden noise.

First instinct and a smart one, we all begin speeding past the boys out of the studio running into Ray.

“Woah slow down, You look like you've seen a ghost” He didn’t know-how on the spot he was about our expressions. We all stare at him traumatized like as we say in unison “We have!”

Carlos cuts in “cool!” I thump him in the head with my middle finger and thumb to make him shut up but I’m quickly cut off by Ray scolding me, “Y/n, We’ve talked about the thumping.” he says as Carlos mimics his actions of pointing his index finger at me as to be stern. before Ray turns back to him with his eyebrows furrowed.

I huff turning to Carlos to apologize but quickly speed off so I don’t have to.

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

Flynn, Julie, and I walk in a huddle back to the studio holding a cross. I start to giggle remembering a TikTok, I begin to speak up before I could be interrupted.”Shiver me timbers...am i right..?” I say giggling, we turn around at the sound of little giggles at my TikTok reference 

We begin screaming again when we’re cut off by our blonde friend who we just visited at the hospital not that long before, his soft voice asking us to please be quiet and stop screaming. 

“Guys, do you understand what’s happening?”  I ask say sadly as everyone looks at me.” If we’re seeing ghosts then that means they passed…” my eyes begin to well up with tears at the sight of our sweet boys standing there confused as to what’s wrong. 

Luke stares completely and utterly confused as he attempts to touch Julie and Flynn to test the “Ghost logic” when his hand fell through with a chill he was filled to the brim with sadness, his heart dropped in his stomach, tears in his eyes as his head began to pound and his throat felt like it was clogged, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t understand..” Reggie shakes his head.

My boy with his shaggy brown locks decides to attempt to touch me; Slowly reaching his hand out towards my face , he hesitantly brushes the pad of his thumb against my warm tear-stained cheeks, so caught up in the moment it felt like no one else in the room. He grabs my shoulder pulling me towards him to engulf me in a hug..

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Time skip brought to you by Owen joyners EpiPen

3 weeks passed.

I lay across the couch thinking of lyrics in my head trying to put it all on paper, I sing the song in my head trying to find the melody when a certain boy walks up behind me sticking his fingers to my side tickling me.I know exactly who it is by the scent filling my nasal passages, I turn around prepared with a small nerf gun from my hoodie pocket shooting him, but the bullets going through him.

He snorts staring at me in awe as if he knew it wouldn’t work.”What, you think it’s funny I can’t shoot you, huh..huh?! I saw as I jump off the couch onto his back kissing and bear-hugging the boy as he lets out wild laughs; fouling my heart with warmth. I slide off his back but he’s still holding on to my leg making me stumble, he quickly loops his arm around my waist catching me before I can fully reach the ground. Our eyes linger on each other for longer than normal when we hear a faint but clear whistle behind us.

“Come on lover birds, we have songs to write and instruments to play,” Reggie says walking up to the two of his, blushing and warm cheeks clearly showing. We finally look down and realize we’re still conjoined at the hip making us move away from each other abruptly.

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

“Hey luke it’s me again, I know your soul is technically still in the studio and I just saw you but it’s still nice to come to check on your body.” I saw as I bring my hand to the luke laying on the hospital bed, caressing his rough calloused fingers with my own soft ones.

I giggle as i remember a fun time we had when he was quote “alive”.

“You remember that one time we went down to-” I was quickly cut off by Lukes’s nurse coming in to tell me visiting hours were over, but I can still hang out with ghost luke, right? All these thoughts in my head; what if he doesn’t wake up, what if he never gets to be seen again,to play his music the way he wants to.what if I never have my best friend back.

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

“In and out y/n, just like we practiced, in and out.” Alex had me leaned against his chest to  help with the tightening of my muscles as he brushed the hair out of my face helping with my panic attack.“Luke-Lu-Luke, where is-where is he.” I managed to get out in between breaths.

“He said he was on his way, It okay he’ll be here.” he stroked my hair, as I struggled to breathe at all, my test tightened, I felt cut off from the world. It was like watching myself struggle but unable to help with the pain. Just about that time, I was bursting into hot tears, luke ran into the studio immediately cupping my face with his calloused hands trying to calm me down while repeatedly asking whats wrong;I bury my head in the crook of his neck as I continue to squall about how he’s my best friend. “ Y/n you smell like pure vodka, did you drink anything?” He holds my face in his hands staring at me lovingly

“I drank some- I drank a lot of Smirnoff- a little of a lot,  cus i visited you in the hospital and started thinking about how I need you back-I -I need you back Luke, I need-need you. Please just hold me..” I trail off into whimpers as he pulls my head in his lap, caressing my hair softly as he thinks about everything I just said.

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

 I sit in the hospital when nurses begin to run into the rooms of the  boys,I hear ther voices and thats all i need before i start falling on my knees crying happy tears,falling from my eyes salty droplets as i begin to run straight to lukes bed but begin to be pushed out and i know somethings wrong; And my heart drops to my stomach as i hear “Whos the pretty girl?” my boy asks.my heart stops...what did he just say 

A/N: WHAT DID SHE SAYYYY, SUPRISEEE SHAWTYYYY HE DONT REMEMBER YOUUUUUUUUU

“Luke it’s me,it’s your best friend?” i said in more of a question.

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

Weeks passed by and luke still doesn’t remember me,and i have no clue what to do.weeks feeling overwhelmed without my bestfriend.weeks crying every second thinking about how ive already lost him when lukes ghost walks in at the same time as luke when they run into each other the sight in front of me is crazy as it looks as if his soul has been  sucked into his body when i hear “Y/n?” 

I run as fast as my legs can carry me into his arms and place a harsh kiss onto his lips knocking him back but he responds kidding back. Long minutes of being in eachothers arms when he pulls back smiling that signature smile i’ve always loved 

“I love you Y/n” He says with tears in his eyes.

“I love  you too” i say as i pull him back  in for another kiss.

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART THREE - A Rogue One Fanfic

This part/scene went in a little bit different direction than I had thought it was going to go, but I regret nothing!

Read Part One

Read Part Two

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Three

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Looking, Ogling, Leering, Letching, Yearning… Okay, Lusting. (Only Jyn doesn’t realize she's there yet...) Let me know if this needs a 'nsfw' tag... I'm not sure. There's nothing explicit.

Words: 1217

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

3 hours until the ceremony…

Jyn was loathe to do it, but there really was no other alternative. She could at least try to be gentle, even though being gentle honestly never had been in her nature. Before.

She’d also been fiercely independent. Before.

With a sigh, she sat down on the edge of the bed, indulged in a moment to study the unconscious man, who deserved the few hours of peace he’d had over the past week, after the decades of suffering she often found reflected in his eyes, in his voice, the tense way he held his body.

His body…

She’d be a liar if she tried to claim that she didn’t find his body appealing, and not just because it felt so good when she pressed her own against the warm, sinewy flesh of his, feeling his heart beating in his chest and the rhythm of his breathing. With Cassian, she felt safe and content in a way she hadn’t since childhood, which was ridiculous with the state he was in. If anyone would be protecting anyone, it would be her protecting him.

And gladly.

It was a possessiveness she had never experienced before, having precisely one item she valued, her mother’s kyber crystal necklace, and no one significant to her.

And maybe it was that unbidden possessive feeling twisting her up inside which rendered Cassian Andor the most beautiful being Jyn had ever encountered. She could just look at him for hours, study the contours of lean, wiry muscle on his slender frame, his tan skin with its abundance of scars that rivaled her own collection, the smattering of dark downy hair across his chest and trailing down from his navel to beneath the waistband of his shorts.

The angles of his face intrigued her to no end. And the broody downturned curve of his mouth, which if she just brushed her fingers across the sharp plane of his cheek…

Cassian’s mouth softened and his cheek rounded as his lips curved into a contented smile, which pulled a smile from Jyn’s lips as well.

He. Was. Pretty.

And part of her ferociously insisted that he was hers.

Whether she could keep him beyond this moment, these past few days of easy, quiet intimacy more or less apart from the rest of the universe, remained to be seen.

But reality could not be avoided any longer. She brushed the unruly hair that had fallen across his forehead out of his eyes.

He murmured her name in his sleep and heat blossomed in her chest. Jyn tamped it down the best she could. She was letting herself get carried away by this… whatever it was… Infatuation?

She’d never been infatuated with anyone or anything in her life. She was not a romantic person, but was she romanticising the rebel captain?

He was stubborn and single-minded with his goals. At first, she thought he could only follow orders, thought him cold and hard. But she’d learned he was soft and warm and wounded inside. And wounded outside now. And that damned blind loyalty she’d hated when they’d first met -what, 9 or 10 days ago- it was what made him hers. Well, maybe it made him hers. She’d never had anyone’s loyalty before. No one had ever come back for her until him. No one had ever stuck by her. To the end. He'd been with her through what should've been the end. But somehow hadn't been. And now… She would stick around for him.

Jyn took a deep breath and placed her hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm and inviting but she resisted skimming her palm down his arm, resisted exploring the shape of triceps and biceps with her fingers. Instead, she gave him a shake.

“Cassian. It’s time to wake up.”

He whimpered, a low throaty sound that was so filled with gravel, it was practically a growl. It did things to her she didn’t have the capacity to consider. And when he said her name, all sleepy, thickly accented and heavy on his tongue, she had to dig her fingers into her palm to prevent herself from grabbing him and doing things to him.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, the effort making his muscles twitch shift beneath his skin, making him wince, but then he was running a hand over his face and the back of his head, ruffling the messy overgrown hair. His dark eyes settled on her face, as clear and alert as ever. He was no longer on meds for pain and Jyn was happy to find all the clever sharpness had returned to those deep brown eyes of his.

“How long?” He asked the same question every time he woke, something a soldier, a survivor asked, always wary about what might have happened when they were asleep, as if they had no right to a moment’s peace.

“Thirteen hours.”

Cassian swore softly in his native language before addressing her in Basic.

“You promised me you wouldn’t let me sleep more than ten hours.”

She shrugged, but wouldn’t meet his eyes, not worried he was upset with her, but afraid that he could see straight through to her possessive thoughts about him.

“You need it.”

“I need to move around or I’ll get all stiff.”

Jyn bit her lip. No. She wasn’t going to-

Her eyes convulsively dropped to his lap and thenshot back up to his face, and just as quickly darted away.

He was stiff.

And not just his back and leg as he'd actually meant. But his partially aroused maleness wasn't intentional, she knew. And the times when she'd woken up tangled in him with the feeling of him half hard pressing against some part of her, despite the interest her own body returned, she knew it wasn't a conscious choice of his. He was asleep and his body was just doing its natural thing. It wasn't as if he actually wanted…

Cassian swung his legs over the edge of the bed, sitting so close, her body practically hummed in response, began gravitating toward him. Why? Why did she need him, so deeply she could feel it in the marrow of her bones? Sometimes she felt as if they had actually been hit by that energy weapon, while they were embracing on the beach waiting for death, and were fused together on the subatomic level.

And then felt like maybe she’d suffered a brain injury they hadn’t detected, which scrambled her survivor’s practicality into delusions of romantic grandeur.

Get your head on straight, Jyn Erso.

Cassian got to his feet. It was a bit of a production, difficult to watch and also heartening, but Jyn made no move to help him. Oh, she would assist him. And she had done so. But not when he could manage on his own, not when he needed to know he could.

“I’m going to wash up,” he said. “Then maybe we can go to the mess.”

Jyn raised an eyebrow. Did he really feel like he could walk that far? She hoped he was feeling that strong, because,

“You’re going to need to shower. Command wants us to go to this Award Ceremony thing.”

“What?!” Cassian’s look was pure confusion, as if she’d let him sleep for thirteen years and he’d woken up to a completely unfamiliar galaxy.

She sympathized. It made no sense to her either. And she’d much rather just curl back up in bed with him. Just Cassian and her, together.

Nothing had ever felt more right. But since when had the galaxy ever given Jyn what she wanted?

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

i seriously will not be able to stop thinking about your Daddy Clyde holy hell you write him so beautifully. ugh Daddy's so gritty and dirty and just the right amount of meannnn ugh i hate you and love you at the same time. that piece stressin' me tf out ugh i really n e e d more of it lmao

A/N: @ohdamnadamm AS PER YOUR REQUEST DARLIN’ I COOKED UP A FILTHY ASS FUCKIN’ NUGGET FROM THE INNER MECHANISMS OF MY MIND (AND THANKS TO @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather FOR HER DAD BOD FIC FOR THE LOVE OF PETE IM SO HARD FOR THAT AMAZING THOT, BLESS YOU ITS BEEN RUNNING THROUGH MY MIND FOR 48 HRS STRAIGHT AND IVE READ IT UPWARDS OF TWENTY TIMES) IM NOT SORRY IN THE SLIGHTEST. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, SWEET BABE! 

Warnings: Daddy kink, BJ’s, ball-sucking, choking, cumshots, cum eating, unprotected sex, dirty talk and LOTS OF IT, teasing, marking, breeding kink, hair pulling, scratching, just pure fuckin’ hot sweaty porn, no plot whatsoever, SMUT SMUT SMUT AND MORE FUCKIN’ CLYDE LOGAN SMUT. 

The hot sun beat down in the small trailer located in the boonies of West Virginia, the AC had decided to take a shit early that mornin’, sendin’ your big bear to go to the Home Depot for some tools to fix it right up for his baby doll. 

You sat, perched on the couch in nothin’ but your little pink thong, and laced up bralette, sweatin’ to high heaven as you waited for your tin foil knight to return and save the heat stroke you had been sufferin’ since damn near five in the mornin’. 

“Jesus fuck,” you exhaled, rubbin’ more sweat off your soakin’ tits, pullin’ your hair into a sticky mess of a bun as you fanned yourself over the hot August fog that settled in the small quarters. 

“I’m just fuckin’ parched as all hell,” gettin’ up from the couch, makin’ your way to the fridge to stick your head in the freezer for some relief, only to find your savin’ grace for the next twenty minutes or so, a box of red-white-n-blue rocket pops. 

“Oh fuck me!” reachin’ for them as you tore the box open like a feral cat, rippin’ the packagin’ and shovin’ that popsicle into your gapin’ mouth, a moan emittin’ throughout the room as you savored the icy cold of the frozen delicacy. 

Just then, the door shuffled open to let your hulk of a man in from the blisterin’ heat of the day, his white t-shirt stained in tit sweat, and his brimmed ball cap sweat covered too. He dropped the bag on the floor, airin’ out his shirt as he looked around for your pretty little figure. 

“Baby girl?” concerned you weren’t in his line of sight, inchin’ towards the kitchen, “where ya at?” peerin’ around the partition to see the hottest thing he’d seen all damn day. You perched on the kitchen counter, tits completely sweat covered, legs spread open like a porn star, and a bomb pop slidin’ in and out of your perfect lips, the colored juices drippin’ down your chin into the valley of your chest as you eyeballed him from the livin’ room. 

“What’s ma perty lil’ baby doin’ on the counter, huh?” movin’ over to you as he wiped his sweat covered face with his t-shirt, exposin’ his precious belly and shinin’ tits. 

“Ya know it’s dangerous ta be on the counter like that baby doll,” panderin’ as he rubbed your soft thighs, bendin’ down to kiss and suck on the skin as you thrust the popsicle in and out of your mouth, not losin’ the slightest bit of eye contact, “wouldn’t want daddy’s precious baby girl ta get herself hurt, now, would we?” ghostin’ his lips over your succulent and swollen cunt. 

“Mhmm,” whinin’ out at his touches on your sensitive skin, forcin’ the treat down your open throat even more, “‘m sorry daddy,” moanin’ as he lifted his head to smirk at your fuck me face. 

“I don’t think yer sorry in the slightest darlin’,” gigglin’ as he stood to his full height, leanin’ in to grip the empty stick from your mouth, tossin’ it on the floor, “I think ya like bein’ a lil’ brat, don’t ya baby girl?” tiltin’ your chin to meet his searin’ gaze as he pushed his lips onto yours, sighin’ as he pulled you flush to him, inhalin’ your sweet scent as the kiss deepened. 

“Ya know what kinda punishment lil’ brats get?” he pulled away, grippin’ your hair to wrench your head back up to his, suckin’ marks on your neck as he gathered you in his huge arms. 

“No, daddy, I don’t,” bitin’ your lip at the pain of his ministrations on your pulse, “p-please tell me what I get,” moanin’ as he pulled your hair tighter and tighter. 

Liftin’ his head back up, starin’ into your eyes, “get off the damn counter and assume yer position in front a the couch baby girl,” lettin’ go of your head as he watched you slide down off your perch to slink into the livin’ room, your ass red from the duration of your stay on the linoleum lined top as he watched it sway with your hips, completely entranced. 

“Like this daddy?” bendin’ down on your knees, as he slid himself in front of the lip of the couch to gaze at your pretty little face beggin’ to be fucked. Your hands behind your back, head cocked up to meet his stare, tits pushed out, nipples peaked, and your vision on him and him only. 

“Stick that lil’ tongue out baby girl,” fumblin’ with his belt and zipper as he watched you present the organ as requested, “daddy wanna see his lil’ cumbucket,” releasin’ his half hardened cock to sit on the couch like the king he was. He reached his hand to pull on the appendage, a moan emittin’ from your throat as he motioned you closer with it. 

“Yer gonna suck ma cock until yer cryin’ for air baby girl,” musin’ as you lowered your face to his large balls, nuzzlin’ your nose in the softness and musk envelopin’ them in his aura. 

“Yes, daddy,” whisperin’ as you pecked tiny kisses on them, “I wanna be a good girl fer you,” lickin’ the skin like a kitten. 

“Mhmm,” he moaned out, his balls twitchin’ at your movements on them, “yer such a good girl fer yer daddy,” praisin’ as you sucked one into your mouth, tuggin’ on the skin and rollin’ your tongue around the sac. 

“Mmm, ya taste so good daddy,” movin’ to the other testicle to mimic the motions just as good as the other, savorin’ his manly scent as you made out with his scrotum, his cock wavin’ like a flag in the sky as you tugged on the other ball. 

“G-god d-damn,” he cooed, grippin’ your head to lift you up from his sac, “that’s enough a that baby girl,” lust blown as he rubbed the sides of your temples, causing your eyes to roll back in your head as he lowered your lips to his weepin’ tip. 

“Now yer gonna take this cock baby girl,” gazin’ at the sight of you foamin’ at the mouth under his larger than life dick, “go on ‘n suck yer daddy,” shovin’ your perfect little mouth onto his achin’ dick, revelin’ in the gaggin’ sounds you made as he pushed your head completely down on him. 

“Open up fer me baby girl,” gaspin’ as your jaw went slack over his throbbin’ cock, “there ya go darlin’,” praisin’ as you sped up your sloppy gyrations on him. 

“S-such a p-perty lil’ cumbucket,” watchin’ as the spit fell in globs on his jeans, and the tears spilled from your eyes over his girth, “what a g-good baby girl daddy has,” throwin’ his head back in pleasure as you sucked your cheeks in, rollin’ your tongue on the underside of his veiny dick.

“Daddy’s gettin’ close baby girl,” he panted out as you adjusted your angle to hit your uvula just the right way, causin’ an animalistic moan to reverberate on the thin walls of the trailer. 

“I-I’m,” shovin’ your head off his cock, causin’ a huge gasp for air to leave your lips and wide eyes to meet your man as he palmed his red angry cock in his hand. 

“Open yer perty mouth baby girl!” growlin’ out as the largest stream of semen you’d ever seen squirt from his head, landin’ on your tongue, tits, and chin. 

“Motherfuck-k,” he palmed himself until the last of it landed on your skin, takin’ huge deep breaths as he let go of his limp cock, “ya alright baby girl?” watchin’ the color return to your face as you sucked up his spend from your face. 

“I’m just fine daddy,” crawlin’ on to his lap, thighs on either side of him as you nestled your covered pussy on his still throbbin’ cock. 

“Ya such a good girl fer me,” pettin’ your arms as you gripped the back of his head, leanin’ in for a steamy kiss as you gyrated your hips on him. 

“Mhmm,” he chuckled, “does ma sweet baby need somethin’ from her daddy?” watchin’ as you bat your eyelashes at him, “use yer words darlin’,” he pandered once again, bringin’ a thumb to tug at your bottom lip. 

“I need ya to fuck me, daddy,” bringin’ the digit into your mouth as you moved again on his dick, the hardness comin’ back in a wave at your friction, “please, I’ve been a good girl fer you,” suckin’ on it like a pacifier. 

“Ya right baby girl,” he cooed, “I can’t say no to yer sweet lil’ pussy anyways,” watchin’ as you lifted your hips to line his cock up with your achin’ slit, rubbin’ your built-up slick around on the head. Pushin’ your hips slowly down on his length, swallowin’ every single inch like the popsicle you’d been devourin’ minutes prior. 

“G-good god darlin’,” breath hitchin’ as he took in your tight walls clenchin’ on his cock, “ya so damn tight, no matter how many times yer daddy fucks ya,” musin’ as you started your little dance on his lap. 

Hips in a death grip by his flesh and blood hand and his metal one as you gyrated your body, tits bouncin’ in his face, sweat buildin’ up in the heat of the trailer as skin slappin’ emitted through every room in the house. 

“F-fuck big bear!” you cried out, feelin’ his head pokin’ your cervix with every thrust he was makin’ upwards, completely sendin’ you into another dimension of pleasure, “ya stretch me out so damn good daddy!” moanin’ into every knock he made on your open womb. 

“Ya gonna cum on daddy’s big cock baby girl?” watchin’ your mouth gape open as your tits fall out of the sorry excuse for a bra you’d chosen, “daddy wants ya ta cum so damn bad!” speedin’ his movements up until tears fell again from your face. 

“Daddy!” grippin’ on his shoulders, drawin’ blood as he pummeled your hole with everything he had, “d-daddy I-I’m g-gon-,” the friction from his jeans rubbin’ your clit for him as you unraveled and released your sweet sticky spend on him. 

“F-fuck!” cryin’ out in unrelentin’ waves of bliss as he rode you out to pound town. 

“Such a perty baby girl,” musin’ as he thrust his cock in and out with more fervor, “daddy’s gettin’ close baby,” he praised once again, gritting his teeth as he set an ungodly speed on your overstimulated body.  

“D-daddy’s c-close,” he grunted, thrustin’ in once more before unloadin’ his spend into your gapin’ slit, shovin’ it further a further as he kept thrustin’ into you. 

“J-Jesus f-fuckin’ C-Christ,” hips still in his grip as it tightened from his orgasm, “ya feel s-so good darlin’,” stillin’ himself as you both gazed into each other, takin’ in the heat that had built over the last hour. 

He brought you into an embrace, smellin’ your hair, as you pet his sweat covered back, kissin’ the moles on his shoulder and rubbin’ the scratches that had built up. After a few more seconds, you went to hop off him, only to be stilled back in your spot. 

“Clyde, baby!” you looked at him, irritated and sweaty, “what the hell? It’s fuckin’ hot an’ I have ta pee,” tryin’ to pry his hands off your hips still. 

“Nah baby girl,” he tsked, “yer gonna sit here with ma cum in your pussy for a minute,” musin’ and rubbin’ your lower belly, “I wanna make sure ya keep it nice n’ safe up there,” eyes dilatin’ as he watched your expression change too. 

“Oh really?” movin’ a hand to slick his mop of hair back, “ya think this is gonna do the trick ta knock my ass up like ya want me ta be big bear?” gigglin’ as his toothy smile appeared as a result of your words. 

“Well, it’s a damn start innit?” nuzzlin’ his cheek in your hand, “need ta make sure ma swimmers explore all parts a the cave darlin’,” chucklin’ as you rolled your eyes. 

“Yer lucky yer the cutest thing on the planet,” softenin’ at his precious face restin’ in your fingers, “that jus’ makes me wanna have as many babies as possible so they get yer perty lil’ features,” rubbin’ his cheek as a tear welled up in his eyes. 

“I ain’t as precious as you are baby girl,” rubbin’ more little circles on your lower tummy, “I can’t wait ta see the perfect lil’ ones we do make,” the wetness rollin’ out of his eyes as he thought about a little Logan joinin’ the trailer. 

“Oh shit!” he jolted, scarin’ the crap out of you as you stood up, “I totally fuckin’ forgot!” he jumped up from the couch. 

“Forgot what big bear!” clutchin’ your chest as you crossed your legs to avoid the liquid from fallin’ out of your bladder and your pussy. 

“I have ta fix the fuckin’ AC!”

_____________

IN CONCLUSION, 

🖤, 

ray-nal-beads

[sunsoothed]

lightness

jang hanseo character study kinda fic i promised. i'm not sure if this is a character study anymore. i have no idea what this became. anyway! i wanted to explore hanseo and give him a bit of a backstory, so here it is!

*deep breath* content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, physical abuse, blood, injury, canonical character death (not hanseo), recreational drug use, underage drug use, implied drug abuse

word count: 1866

read on ao3

hope you like it!

-

When Jang Hanseo is seven, he is acquainted with elder brother. Regal; nine-years-old and already hunting.

He still hides behind their father with him when he pretends to be terrified of the sound of gunfire.

Hanseo says nothing. He never brings up how his brother had thrown the bloodied rabbit and his rifle to the servant attending him, never brings up how thoroughly he washed his hands to hide the evidence of his independence from his father.

Never brings up how his brother assessed him with just a look and nothing more.

The first words Jang Hanseo’s brother says to him are as follows:

“Don’t call me hyung.”

Jang Hanseo blinks, traces his eyes over the leather of his brother’s jacket, over the blood that drips from his gloves, over the rifle he holds in his hands. He smiles.

“Okay, hyung-nim!”

A scoff, but some appraisal. Jang Hanseo doesn’t understand the half-smile he receives that autumn afternoon, but he remembers it until he beats his brother with a hockey stick, striking his head trice ‘til he’s out and his back once just for good measure, just to see the blood coming up to his mouth for him to choke on.

-

The first time his brother hits him, Jang Hanseo is eight. The ice rink is dark, and his brother is more geared up than he is.

Jang Hanseo misses thrice, scores once. He is rewarded with a swipe of the hockey stick on the back of his calf, and he thinks it is a game.

For that, he is rewarded with his first broken bone and a seared memory of a hand heavy on his throat. A laugh without mercy.

-

When Jang Hanseo is thirteen, he is offered alcohol at a party his father is hosting.

He declined, having seen first-hand what alcohol does to you, what a rage it puts his father in as he breaks porcelain, the scar he left on his mother’s cheek that lasted till the day she died.

-

When Jang Hanseo is fourteen, his brother kills four people. Classmates, he tells him, when he comes home with red speckled on his face. They weren’t worthy of being my classmates.

-

Jang Hanseo celebrates his fifteenth birthday with the diagnosis of his brother being a psychopath and accidentally tearing open the letter of a one-way ticket to the United States.

Instead of cake, he consumes his own blood, and instead of a pat on the back, he has a dislocated shoulder.

When he wakes a day later hooked to an IV, his brother is gone. The phantom of his laugh lives on, searing long into Hanseo’s conscience.

-

At fifteen-and-a-half, his father sends Hanseo to his grandmother’s for the summer. His father is undergoing a trial, on the charges of bribery, abetting murder, and perjury. With one son shipped off to the States and another to Jeju Island, he has no pawns he will feel ill about sacrificing. It’s not that he loves them. It’s that letting your son die because the ransom money you can very well afford would require you to take some shares out, and that’s too tedious of a process to go through.

So Jang Hanseo boards the short flight, stares out of the window for the longest one hour and fifteen minutes of his life so far. He’s never met his grandmother.

He wonders if she’s like his father, knowing she’s raised him, or if she’s worse.

She’s leagues different from anyone in his family.

Halmeoni scans him up and down when the driver drops him off at her estate. At the front door itself, she says, “We have a lot of fixing-up to do.”

It leaves an impression, that’s for sure.

-

The best summer of his life, Hanseo learns how to uproot weeds and catch a chicken without screaming like his life was being threatened. His halmeoni owns a farm, some 150 acres of greenery and animal and mansion.

Halmeoni teaches him first how to eat well, how to fill his plate and not feel bad about it, how to overeat and regret it. Halmeoni teaches him second that he is the most important person to himself; never his father, and not his hyung-nim.

Halmeoni teaches him third that he has no one else in the world but himself.

This, Jang Hanseo remembers the most.

(But his brother’s —)

-

With his brother’s absence, an anxiety sets into Hanseo’s veins so intensely that upon looking up his symptoms, he sees words like psychosis and personality disorder and promptly closes his laptop shut.

Unbidden, but not unwelcome, he remembers the rages his father fell into. He remembers the embers of gold in those small wide glasses that abeoji owned, remembers the crates of bottles that they used to have moved into the house. He also recalls the putrid smoke that used to emerge from the study. The smell of something burnt and something that made him cough so hard it alerted his father of his presence.

It’s in the boys washroom that he smells the scent again. By the open window, out curls smoke.

Jang Hanseo catches the eye of the assailant. Oh Yeonwoo will get him into this mess and then out. He will be Hanseo’s first true friend.

-

Jang Hanseo tries it for the first time on the terrace of the school. One joint between the two of them and nothing but heaving coughs from him until he learns how to take air after smoke and allow its natural passage back up. The joint is over by then, and Hanseo feels nothing.

Yeonwoo bumps their shoulders together, carelessly tossing the filter over the railing of the terrace. “You’ll get the hang of it,” He assures. “I didn’t even make it after a couple of joints, so you’re doing better than me already.”

Hanseo lends him a half-smile. Better than him, he thinks. When have I ever been better than anyone?

“Hanseo-yah, what’re you thinking with that scowl, hm?” Yeonwoo bumps their shoulders together again. “You’re so scary when you space out.”

“I am?”

Yeonwoo nods again. Hanseo notes something hazy in his eyes, something completely unguarded in his demeanour. He blinks cautiously.

“Hanseo-yah,” Yeonwoo whines, “Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not,” He replies. “Are —” Are you okay? Hanseo was going to ask. Stupid. Yeonwoo has settled against his shoulder now, humming some tune. He stretches his legs out in front of him and sways his feet to the rhythm. He seems better than okay.

So this is what it does, Hanseo thinks. Lightness. He wants to be light.

-

And so, Jang Hanseo, age sixteen, falls into something whose magnitude he cannot guess. Addiction is only the half of it. The other half had started the day Yeonwoo showed him something called shotgunning, which had taken his first kiss and his first experience with intoxication whose harm had lasted longer than its euphoria.

When he lies beside Yeonwoo, all too hot and all too cold, unable to distinguish which fingers are his when they hold hands, he finds it. The lightness. When Yeonwoo turns and exhales into his neck, prickling sweat and prickling hair to stand on edge, Hanseo smiles.

And when Hanseo wakes up, the dread in his gut is deeper than it’s ever been.

(— his brother’s —)

-

So it seems that boys with no family and boys with brothers who know nothing but violence and boys with a terrible, terrible blankness to them can also, by some grace of humanity, fall in love. And so it seems, as Hanseo feels the telltale thumping of his heart and lightness in his abdomen, that Yeonwoo will keep having this effect on him.

Subtlety, Yeonwoo tells him, the afternoon they sit on the roof and stare at the sky and at the smoke. Subtlety will let you get away with everything.

Subtle touches, then. Hanseo’s fingers lingering a moment too long on Yeonwoo’s arm, Hanseo’s hand firm between his shoulder blades. Subtle words, and subtle smiles, and subtle smoke between their mouths as they chase lightness.

Subtle kisses, too, when Hanseo feels he can see his own eyes in Yeonwoo’s, when Hanseo still finds the thrill of sealing his lips with Yeonwoo’s to be a minefield of his own feelings. Subtle kisses that Yeonwoo always blackens — drags them down into teeth and tongue and desire. Hanseo doesn’t know, then, that this is what differentiates them. What puts him on a curved, unshapely parabola and Yeonwoo on a straight line.

Feral, Hanseo once thinks, his gaze only slightly unclouded, as Yeonwoo bites at his lips, his neck. Feral, in the way he never kisses to coax Hanseo’s mouth open; never to cherish feeling. Only to chase after something so much deeper.

-

At seventeen, Jang Hanseo implodes from heartbreak.

Transfer student. Short, ebony hair, in that oh-so-timeless straight bob. He has a nice smile, even Hanseo can tell, and he has a charming walk. He’s also assigned a seat beside him. This, of all things, was the catalyst.

Yeonwoo didn’t want to kiss him anymore. Yeonwoo wanted to smoke with him, but Yeonwoo also bought a new companion along with him. Yeonwoo, it seemed, never wanted what Hanseo did. Yeonwoo, it seemed, never felt the way Hanseo did.

Hanseo knows that he knew, somewhere, beneath what his world had become, that this would not stand for long. Its foundations were, in the end, smoke.

-

But it does not surprise him, Hanseo thinks, seventeen and a quarter, something vile in his veins. It does not surprise him that he’s here.

His head hits, dully, the floor under him. He laughs. And he laughs some more, as the world turns from dust to sky to ocean. And he waits for the servants to find him in his father’s study.

-

They tell him that he’s lucky, later, in the hospital. Jang Hanseo thinks this is what death feels like, on the verge of eighteen. He states blinking at the ceiling. Hospital rooms are white on all six sides, and heaven is supposed to be white on all six sides as well. He wants to laugh, so he does.

And it hurts.

Hanseo stops laughing.

(— his brother’s laugh —)

-

Hanseo laughs. Ten years past, ten years perished, Hanseo laughs until his heart hurts. His brother’s heart is still beating. His blood is still warm, the three hits to his head and one to his back hadn’t kept him down. Hanseo laughs as the blood splatters on his face, sprinkled red on his chin and lips, a sprinkled red dancing in his eyes as he brings the hockey stick down, down, down.

For everything Hanseok has made him — less, more, just enough. For all these little things that had changed Hanseo more than broken bones could. For lost love. For things that weren’t, in the end, Hanseok’s fault.

Hanseo beats him till his heart stops fighting back and the blood pooled in his mouth flows quietly. Till Hanseo feels no fight left in him, and then some, till the exhaustion in him takes over.

Hanseo slumps over his brother’s dead body, and Hanseo laughs.

(But his brother’s laugh will always be louder.)

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part II

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.7k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

By day two of our investigation, there wasn’t much left to look into other than the gardens. We’d already searched the rest of the house and found nothing of note. On that groggy morning, however, as soon as I stepped out into the gardens, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye that struck me as abnormal.

“Link, come here.” My comrade stood to attention and came to stand beside me, on the footpath lining the sides of the zen garden. “See that?”

He followed my finger to what had caught my eye: the big footprint right in the middle of the pattern etched in the sand. His eyes widened.

A grin spread its way across my face. “What say we try getting a closer look?”

This, unfortunately, was easier said than done. Leaving our own prints behind would be tantamount to the destruction of evidence. So in order to reach the spot where the footprint was located, we would have to hop across the stones scattered throughout the zen garden. And to say that the sandals one was given when visiting the Sheikah estate and was expected to wear at all times were unsuited for this endeavour would be a gross understatement.

“Honestly...” I huffed, searching in vain for the next best place to put my toe. “There’s a footpath for a reason.” This earned a chuckle from Link, who was still two or three rocks behind me, but seemed to be struggling to only a fraction of the extent that I was.

With my attention elsewhere, I made the mistake of stepping on a stone that was barely even the size of my heel. Inevitably, my foot started to slip, and I began teetering back and forth like a broken pendulum.

“Eep!”

Just when I shut my eyes in preparation to fall, I was caught and held steady at the waist by my assistant.

My breath caught in my throat. He was leaning over me, his front curved flush against the arch of my back and his gloved hands pressed flat into my abdomen, and here I was, graceful as a swan, arms sticking out at odd angles and legs spread three feet apart.

“Are you alright?”

His smooth, demure voice in my ear startled me out of my sudden paralysis. “Yes!” I squeaked, then cleared my throat and brought my outstretched foot back in. “Yes, quite. Thank you.”

His arms left my waist, and he straightened up, putting as much distance between himself and me as there was left on the perch we shared.

“I suppose this is close enough.” I smoothed out my capelet coat before crouching down toward the sand-covered ground, careful not to let anything trail in it. Before proceeding, I breathed a deep, mind-clearing sigh. “Let’s see what we have here.”

If this had been wet sand, I would’ve had a much easier time identifying the sole responsible for this vandalism. But unfortunately, this sand was dry, so all there was to go off of was the size of the prints.

“My guess is, some oaf thought it would be quicker to cut across the zen garden via these stones like we’ve been doing, but ended up with his or her foot in the sand at some point or another.”

“So...do you think this could be a clue?” he inquired with sweet naïvety.

“Well...” I crossed my arms over my chest. “If this is in fact our culprit’s doing, then that would point to this crime being a spur of the moment, which would blatantly contradict all the things we’ve seen so far, or haven’t seen, rather.”

“You mean the security footage?”

I muttered my bitter answer through gritted teeth. “That’s one example.”

The rest of the gardens offered even fewer leads. There were no unusual disturbances in the flora, and nothing was found lying at the bottom of the koi pond. The walls surrounding the place were no higher than the walls of the main building, but they were still too high and too flat for the average person to climb over. Either way, we found no signs of such activity. We’d quite literally left no stone unturned, but to no avail.

I let out what must have been at least my twentieth sigh since our arrival. “Alright then. I suppose it’s time we start questioning some witnesses.”

“Zelda, listen to me.”

I was in the living room in the midst of an interview with Paya. Link was standing on the opposite end of the room, going over his notes. I’d asked him as politely as I could to refrain from listening in on our conversation as she’d started bringing up some sensitive topics of which it was best for him to stay out.

“You can’t let your own personal feelings interfere with your judgement,” she whispered. “You’re a detective, aren’t you? You should know this.”

“It’s been seven years,” I hissed back, “and he spent five of them in an asylum because he was an amnesiac and he hadn’t any idea who he was. He himself, Paya, let alone me.” I took a moment to try and collect myself before continuing. “I’ve told you this before. And yet you somehow suspect that I still feel the same way about him as I did when we were teenagers?”

She shook her head at me in a patronizing manner like the goody two-shoes she always had been. “You may be able to hide it from him, but not from me. I know because...well, I feel the same.” The nerve of this girl was unbelievable. Had she no shame at all? “In any case, you can’t ignore the evidence, no matter what you or I feel toward him.”

She’d finally pushed me to my limit. This was the person who’d been stalking Link from afar since the start of this entire case. I could no longer sit here and tolerate her utterly guiltless accusation of him despite her creepy obsession.

“Just who do you think you are?!” I snapped, standing up and lifting her out of her chair by the collar. “I’ll have you know I’m the one running this investigation, thank you very much.”

“But Zelda, I—”

“Enough!” She shrank back. “You’ve no right making me out like an amateur!”

I could’ve sworn I saw Link jump out of the corner of my eye just then. But when I turned around, he still had his nose buried in his notebook.

Either way, the raging fire within me had died; I released my grip on my “sister,” who crumpled into her chair like a withering lily petal. Slumping back into my own seat, I let out a weary sigh. “So you’re sure Auntie Impa was asleep in her bedroom when you turned in for the night. Correct?”

She nodded curtly. “Yes.”

“And your basis for this was...what, again?”

She sat up straight with her perfect posture. “Well, she always goes to sleep at nine o’clock, and I hadn’t seen her since supper.”

“Right...” I massaged the bridge of my nose with my first and second fingers. “So you didn’t actually see her sleeping. She could have been awake in her room for all you knew.”

“I suppose so...”

“Splendid. And you can’t think of any household members, or anyone at all, who might’ve had a reason to kill her?” Like the Yiga, for example? I added silently.

“No.”

I shut my notebook, slipping my pen into my pocket. “Thank you for your time.”

At this point, I was starting to lose hope. There was only one other matter that it had even occurred to me to look into, and even then, I wasn’t sure if it would be possible to do so. So one could imagine my pleasant surprise when my object of interest was found unharmed in Auntie Impa’s study.

“So this was her own personal Sheikah Slate...” I marvelled, peering into the miniature safe in her desk at the item in question.

“That it was,” replied Auntie Purah. “She supposedly had it made for work purposes. You know, keeping track of finances and marketing and all those hum-drum tasks she was in charge of.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’m quite sure she used it for other, undisclosed means as well.”

“That’s what I’m hoping...” I confessed. “You said earlier—and I ask this with all due respect, of course—but you said you didn’t know of any dark secrets she was keeping? Any skeletons in the closet that might’ve provided a motive for this murder?”

She shook her head in dismay. “No, I’m afraid not. She was always terribly secretive, even with me.”

“Ah... That’s alright, Auntie,” I sympathized.

“But when your mother was still around—oh my goodness! Constantly, those two would whisper in each other’s ears about who-knows-what, ever since they were old enough to speak, I tell you.”

“Is that so?” I humoured her as she spiralled into a speech about the days of her youth. Since the Slate had been kept in her study in a one-of-a-kind safe made specially for this house, it was reasonable to assume there would be no strange fingerprints on it. Nevertheless, I dusted for them anyway, and sure enough, the only ones on it belonged to its late owner. “So, what’s the trick to gaining access to it?” I too owned a device similar to this one, courtesy of my connections with the company as an adopted part of the family that ran it, but because they were still so rare and invaluable, I typically left it at home and didn’t often have the chance to make use of it. As such, I wasn’t nearly as familiar with its mechanics as I ought to have been.

“Well, one of the Slate’s features, which happens to be one of my favourites, actually,” she boasted, “is that it lets the user create a lock that’s entirely unique from one on any other Slate. There is practically no limit to the number of ways one can keep their information protected.” I listened with immense interest, knowing the technology she spoke of was entirely out of my intellectual grasp, but being fascinated all the same. “It seems my sister simply opted for a riddle, though,” she lamented as she activated the device. “Pity. I was looking forward to showing you what the system is capable of.”

“You can still show me!” I fervently insisted. “I’d love to see how it works. Do you have your Slate with you?”

“Oh, yes, I do!” she chirped, reaching into her dress pocket. “This is going to knock your socks off, young lady.”

But before I could lean in for a better view, a hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned my head and met eyes with Link, who glanced insinuatingly at the thing we’d come here to investigate.

“Oh.” I stifled a chuckle. “Right. Let’s see this riddle, then.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughed along with me. “My apologies, Zeldie. I do so get carried away at times.”

“Believe me, Auntie, you’re no worse than I am,” I contested, picking up the Slate sitting on the desk.

The screen displayed an empty text box with a typewriting keyboard below it and a question above it that read the following: “I observe the world as I hide in a cage. In my youth, I am weak, but I gain strength with age. I both give life and take it away. When one tries to pluck me, I make them my prey. What am I?”

Until now, I’d thought myself to be quite skilled at solving riddles. I’d even used to make them up in my school days for sport. But as I reread the words written on the Slate over and over again, I couldn’t think of a single answer that made the least bit of sense. “When one tries to pluck me...” and, “...as I hide in a cage,” were what kept throwing me off. It seemed no two statements could have been more unrelated. Even the few things I came up with that I deemed worth a try were denied. Even when Link and Auntie Purah tried, nothing worked.

Soon enough, I was taken completely off-guard when the question vanished, and in its place appeared the words, “This Sheikah Slate has been disabled. Try again in 1 hour.”

I slammed the damned thing down and threw my hands in the air. “Are you bloody joking?!” I stood hunched over the desk, shaking with frustration. “Five guesses? That’s all we get, really?”

“Maybe it’s something no one but her could ever know,” Auntie Purah pondered. “I could picture her pulling something like that.”

In that moment, it felt as though my heart were too tired to go on beating. “If that’s the case, then...” I held my head in my palms, nails scraping into my scalp. “Then we have no hope of ever figuring it out. Do we?” The longer I stared at the words on the screen, the deeper I fell into their endless, dark abyss. This had been my last hope of finding any sort of lead on this case. If this riddle truly was impossible, I was doomed.

“Now, now. No need to fret, dear.” I raised my head, realizing I’d begun to hyperventilate. “I’ll take it with me on my next trip to the lab. I’m sure Robbie and I will be able to crack into it once we put our heads together.”

“Okay...” I counted to ten in my head while Link stroked my shoulder in quiet consolation. I gave him an appreciative glance, then turned my attention back to my auntie. “Shall I trust you not to let anyone get their hands on it until then?”

“You can count on me, Zeldie,” she winked. I could only hope she would take my request seriously.

It was well into the small hours of the night now, after I’d returned home, and I was still awake as could be, staring endlessly at my bedroom ceiling with wide eyes. There were so many things weighing on my mind all at once, it was difficult to differentiate between them.

At the centre of it all, though, was the memory of something that had occurred earlier that afternoon, when my partner and I had been reviewing the results of the investigation in my office. The things he’d said to me then wouldn’t stop replaying themselves again and again in the theatre of my mind.

“Umm... Zelda?”

I’d looked up at him from across our shared desk, more than a little surprised to hear him call me by my first name. “Yes?”

“I just—” The unsure look in his eyes had created an air of tension thicker than a miasma. He’d begun glancing around the room, gnawing at his lip. “I-I just...”

“Is something the matter?” I’d prompted.

He’d shaken his head then, shifting in his seat. “No, no. I just...wanted to thank you.”

I’d raised my eyebrows at him. “Whatever for?”

His gaze had fallen to his hands resting on the desk. “For getting me out of...that place you found me in.”

My chest had tightened at those words. He’d never uttered anything so personal and so heartfelt to me during all the months that had passed. After all this time, what could possibly have urged him to say this now?

“You did that, even though I didn’t have the slightest notion of who you were,” he’d continued, making my heart twist and writhe within the confines of my ribcage. Then, steeling himself and meeting my eyes with his, “I just wanted you to know that, even with my affliction, I’ll never forget that day.”

Those words still rang in my ears even now, after the several hours that had gone by. They tormented me. I was the only one who had a shred of faith in him—in his innocence. And yet, if I couldn’t figure out a way to prove that someone else had used the police-issued revolver bearing Link’s ID code to commit the murder, then all my efforts to free him would go down the drain, and he’d be locked away for good, if not unthinkably worse.

[dhrdrabbles]

Part V

(Part I,  II, III and IV)

His growth spurt between the Battle of Hogwarts and his trial made vulnerable situations with Draco Malfoy extremely awkward.

Hermione noticed this three years later, at a particularly poorly visited DMLE regulars’ table. They had been a small round tonight anyway, with a large number of aurors, including Harry, being dispatched to an emergency in Aberystwyth.

Terry Boot called it a night after the first round of butterbeers, clearly irritated by the only other two participants tonight. As a result, Hermione and Malfoy awkwardly shared an otherwise empty table until Hermione sighed and went to the bar to order another round.

Malfoy thanked her, his eyes glued to the stains and wood grain on the table. Hermione rolled her eyes. Malfoy had joined the department in the past autumn, too much scepticism in the public and Ministry alike, but his behaviour during his probation had been impeccable. From the moment he became an auror trainee, his record was spotless. Robards had mentioned more than once that he would allow him a shortened training period if it weren’t for the Mark on his arm. There were limits even to a Department Head’s power.

She sipped her butterbeer, eyeing him.

Malfoy wasn’t unfriendly towards her, but he had made much better amendments with Harry or Terry, or even Ginny at this point. With her, he seemed to distance himself more than necessary. He was going out of his way to be polite, but barely able to meet her eye when they spoke, which had been a nuisance when they were assigned together during Malfoy’s first field training. When she mentioned it to him, he had become eerily quiet, his gaze – as always – trained on some point behind her shoulder, assuring her that it was nothing personal and just his nerves.

Hermione’s thoughts lingered on this exchange, although it had been five months ago. She had never seen Malfoy so obviously nervous. It was this reaction that made her firmly believe his behaviour hat little to do with his or her blood and everything with her as a person. She just didn’t know what it was.

Malfoy was now sipping his second butterbeer gingerly. Half of his was finished and Hermione had only taken a few sips, so she hurried to follow suit, only to choke on some beer that had sneaked its way into her trachea as she rushed to drink.

Hermione coughed.

Malfoy chuckled.

The small sound from across the table made her look up in disbelief, still coughing lightly.

She must have looked menacingly because Malfoy’s hands quickly shot up in defence. His smile, to her surprise, remained. “Sorry. But the second you started downing that beer, I knew the choking was imminent.”

The next and final cough hid her surprise at his nonchalant small talk and Hermione was thankful for it. She looked up at Malfoy, who loomed over her even when seated. “And you didn’t think of warning me.”

“Granger.” Ah, the drawl. She only ever heard it when he joked with Harry and Terry, or anyone but herself. The tone that once made her shiver uncomfortably in the Hogwarts halls tickled a giddy curiosity in her these days. She itched to find out why he excluded her from it. “Why would I ever warn you when I could just sit here and enjoy watching you chug that beer – and fail?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t be angry with him. Not when he finally seemed at home in small talk territory. Not when the corners of his mouth were still pulled upward.

He finished his beer in an impressive performance of ‘elegant chugging’ which Hermione filed under yet another Malfoy-only specialty. Putting down his jug, he looked over at her, caution now dominating his features once more. Hermione looked at him questioningly for another second before he took a small breath and pointed at her beer. “Do you want another of these? Because I actually cannot stand the stuff and will order some good whiskey instead.” He paused for one second and then added, hurriedly, “If you want to stay. Feel free to leave.”

Now it was her turn to grin up at him. “It’s fine. I think I’ll stick to this one for now”, she pointed at her glass which was still half full.

At that, he seemed to relax visibly and got up to order.

Hermione’s gaze lazily followed him as he glided through the crowd. His bright, blond head towered over most of the other guests and was visible up until he stopped at the bar.

*

Two butterbeers and three whiskeys later, she returned from the bar with yet another butterbeer and a top-shelf whiskey for Malfoy, the snob, who had actually warmed up to her at long last over the past few drinks. She already thought about mentioning his behaviour another day, when they – hopefully – established some sort of routine with each other as she pushed his drink in front of him and dropped down on the seat across from him, head spinning slowly, in an unrushed pace.

She was just about to pick their conversation about the dominance of Veela traits in descendants back up when Malfoy’s gaze made lose track of her trail of thoughts. In her vision, only his grey eyes remained, as he intently stared at her from across the wooden table in the noisy Leaky.

The words were trapped somewhere in the same trachea where their evening had started. Hermione opened her mouth, instantly thought she must look like a goldfish and closed it again, now extremely self-conscious about her messy bun, the layer of sweat on her upper lip and her frantic gaze from Malfoy’s eyes to his frowning mouth.

For lack of a better word, he appeared sad to Hermione. She tried to pinpoint where they had left off the conversation, looking for a clue where she had said something stupid. Slowly, she opened her mouth again.

Malfoy averted his eyes, dropping on his whiskey.

He sighed. “Thank you.”

Hermione stammered a reply, still wondering what had happened while she was gone. Her insecurity seemed to irritate Malfoy even more, he rubbed his eyes with both of his hands in a slow-motion and groaned almost inaudibly. He leaned back in his chair, his long legs carefully draped next to hers under the table, never quite touching. On various occasions that night, Hermione had heard a soft bump and had always assumed it must’ve been his one of knees that hit the table every time he shifted.

When he removed his hands from his face, Malfoy looked as shattered as he had before. It seemed so wrong on this man, always the epitome of composure and elegance. Even in the field, as a trainee, he appeared in control of every situation. On Thursdays, at the regulars’ table, he dominated the round merely by being such a stark contrast to the rest of them, with his bright hair, light skin, and impeccably straight posture.

Malfoy never sagged, not even after numerous whiskeys. He could raise his voice without automatically shouting as Harry did. He could direct his attention to someone by merely nodding briefly at them. His speech was always impeccable, whether he was stressed or tipsy. He never lost composure.

Yes, Hermione had paid attention to the enigma that was Draco Malfoy’s behaviour towards herself, and she had never seen him lose composure.

Hence, her breath stopped before speeding up excessively when he shifted forward, his elbows now resting on the table, and hid most of his face against his hands again. He was so tall; the table support automatically led him to cower slightly before her. Still, she had to look up to watch his emotions unfold before her.

Hunched Malfoy seemed so at odds with every observation Hermione had made over the past years. She briefly noticed how awkwardly unproportionate he seemed in comparison to the small table and the bench he sat on, but then Malfoy finally raised his voice again. All the effortless command it usually carried via ductus and volume, supported by the sheer size of his torso, had disappeared.

“Granger, how can you stand just sharing a table with me all evening?”

The question startled her so much, she just blinked rapidly at him, her pulse quickening. “I –”

He sighed and rubbed over his face with his hands once more before carefully placing them in front of his torso. His long fingers fiddled with a napkin on the table. His cheeks were flushed, and the corners of his mouth were facing downwards. The image reminded her of their Hogwarts days, but all animosity between them was gone. What remained was a healthy dose of anxiety after what had started as a civil evening.

He sighed again, still hunched in his seat. His eyes never left her face and Hermione struggled to meet his gaze, its intensity almost overwhelming her. The melancholy never left him.

“You testified at my trial – why?”

His voice was levelled, but not its usual nonchalant self – too quiet. Again, Hermione stumbled over his question. She knew the answer, didn’t she? She knew every answer to every question, and this one was so clear to her too. He was just a boy, not even of age. His family – his mother, especially – was in danger. He was – bully or not – just her classmate. He had looked so ridiculously skinny and unhealthy back in their sixth year, crying in the presence of a ghost living in a bathroom. He had stalled when they were captured and brought to the manor. He had not fought during the final battle. He had shown her every day since he had joined the department that the testimony was worth it.

And yet, the question stunned her.

He still sought her eyes with his. “What I want to say, Granger, is this. Whatever your reasoning, your testimony sealed my fate. You made it possible for me to join the auror squad. And I’m thankful.”

She furrowed her brows. “With all due respect, Malfoy, I really appreciate it. But Harry also –”

He interrupted her with a faint smile, but the sadness remained. “Potter has my thanks as well, rest assured. But you – I couldn’t believe it when they said your name. With Potter, I had a ridiculous rivalry. You– you never harmed me, Granger”, his voice cracked. “I depreciated you whenever I could, just to make myself feel better.”

He finally tore his gaze away from her. He was obviously ashamed. Hermione couldn’t reply. Her face was hot, her eyes roaming from Malfoy’s face to his still fiddling hands. She watched as he drew another breath.

All the noise in the pub had numbed around her a long time ago.

“Granger – Hermione – I’m incredibly sorry for how I treated you throughout our years in school. You never gave me any reason to despise you, and yet I did, based on what I now know is a ridiculous notion.”

She watched in awe as he pressed his thin lips together, obviously struggling with the situation, the words, but most of all, with himself. “You are the most impressive person I know. And in retrospect, I knew it a long time ago, but I was so preoccupied with working towards all the wrong goals. Please forgive me. For all the pain I caused you.”

Hermione stared at Malfoy, who had sought her gaze once more at the last sentence but now turned it back to the table, intently staring at the woodwork.

Hermione blinked once, twice, and then the noise of the pub returned to her ears as she slowly rose to her feet.

Malfoy, the tall man across from her, shrunk in his seat. He expected her to leave.  

Instead, Hermione made her way to his side of the table and found an even stance in front of him. Despite being seated on a bench in a pub, Malfoy’s face was almost at the same height as hers, small as she was.

Without another word, she unceremoniously dropped next to him on the bench. He jumped slightly, but Hermione caught his long, lithe fingers in her own and pressed them slightly.

“I forgive you, Draco. I forgave you a long time ago.”

His shoulders sagged next to her. A small breath escaped him, and his lips finally curled upward in the most beautiful way once more. His chin trembled.

She sought his eyes – no longer the usual, composed grey now, but a softer, darker hue.

Her thumbs slowly, tentatively began to stroke the back of his hands in reassurance, but he didn’t move, his eyes still trained on her face so close to his own.

Hermione leaned in and kissed him.

---

Author’s notes: This story is now also available to you on AO3 and I have an extra scene planned for you! It it almost finished and should land in the next couple of days. This format was fun! Although I have waded dangerously far away from drabble territory with some of them, length-wise. Thank you for following along and for being a part of it! 

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XXIV

Parts I-XXII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

Part XIX

Part XX

Part XXI

Part XXII

Part XXIII

XXIV.

(Author’s Notes: I noticed a slight mistake in my last post. Thomas would be Lucie’s second cousin, not first cousin, because he’s the cousin of her cousin. They are not in fact related at all, only Anna and Christopher would be related to Lucie, James, and Thomas. Ugh, it’s all very confusing. Anyway, Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! I hope whatever you and your family celebrates, it was wonderful and special. Thank you for being patient for this update. Next update is coming Jan 3.)

James pushed their horse and carriage through the streets at a blinding speed, taking corners on two wheels at times that had Cordelia gripping the sides of the carriage and bracing herself at the velocity; filled with too much concern for Lucie that fear for herself could not fit. Once Magnus had successfully removed the block on her memories, a flood of terrifying images filled her mind.

The demon that had attacked their carriage.

Alastair bleeding on the brick pavement.

Lucie running towards her through a cloud of orange sand and Belial greeting her with a malicious grin.

Lucie could see ghosts. No, not only see them. She could command them. Conjure them. And he wanted to use that ability to command an ultimately unbeatable army.

James took a turn up on the sidewalk, nearly removing a postal box in the process. Luck be it, Magnus glamoured the carriage so that as they flew by and around the crowds of people moving through the congested streets of London, all the pedestrians felt was a harsh gust of wind that gently scooted them out of the way or immediately stopping them so that James could maneuver around in time. When James had begged him to come along, Magnus insisted that he needed to find James’s parents and tell them of Belial’s interest in their youngest child. It was imperative that they find Lucie and bring her back to Magnus’s cottage where he could form guards around her.

Somehow Cordelia knew that if Belial wanted access to her, he would find it. For he had somehow found Cordelia in the middle of London and held her life and her brother’s in his hands.

Alastair. The warmth evaporated from Cordelia’s face as she reached for James’s wrist to look at his watch. She cursed when she found that it was already thirty minutes past three. Alastair would be on his way to look for her now. This would not help James’s standing with him, but she didn’t have enough time to concern herself with her brother at the moment. She’d deal with him once Lucie was safe.

James had barely brought their horse to a slow trot before he jumped from the driver’s seat of the carriage at the front of his Aunt Cecily’s manner.

He ran around the carriage to assist Cordelia, but she was already on the ground and ahead of him.

The garden door was open. There was a chill in the air that was usually absent in the presence of Cecily Lightwood’s quaint cottage. It felt as if it’d been cloaked in darkness- the way she felt when she’d been dragged to the shadow realm by Belial. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of it. Perhaps it was just fear for Lucie that she was allowing her worst thoughts to enter her mind.

James stayed beside her, taking the stair two at a time in a way her skirts wouldn’t allow her. She heard a terrible rip and suddenly her legs had more room to stretch. She didn’t slow or care even as her hair spilled from the delicate coronet her maid had done her hair in as she kept pace with James.

They barreled down the hallway just as two figures stepped out from the room at the end of the hallway.

“Thomas!” James yelled as he skid to a stop. Cordelia behind him reached out for the figure beside Thomas.

“Alastair!” She screeched, nearly colliding with him when she noticed a dark patch across the front of his shirt. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” said Alastair and glanced between her and James. “I was, but I’m not anymore.”

“What happened?” asked Cordelia as James pushed his way past Thomas into the bedroom. “Where is Lucie?”

Thomas and Alastair looked between each other and before either one of them could say a word, Cordelia felt the warmth drain from her body. “No.”

“He was going to kill Alastair,” said Thomas, shame filled his voice. “She gave me no other choice. She nearly broke my nose escaping.”

“He has her?” asked Cordelia as she moved past them into the bedroom to see for herself.

James stood in the center of the room staring wildly at Grace and a boy, no older than the rest of them, kneeling on the ground besides Tatiana Blackthorn. Cordelia’s hand went to her mouth as she realized the woman was dead.

“What did you do?” James demanded of Grace who hunched over her dead mother. “What did you do!?”

“Don’t speak to her in that way,” said the boy.

“Who are you?” asked Cordelia, coming beside James.

The boy slowly rose to his feet. He stood nearly as tall as James, with dark hair and eyes the most beautiful shade of green. “My name is Jesse. Jesse Blackthorn.”

“Impossible,” said Alastair with a hand still clutching his chest. “Jesse Blackthorn died a long time ago.”

Grace sobbed into her mother’s corset. “Yes,” said Jesse, “I was— I was brought back through a bargain my mother had with Belial. An exchange of sorts. My mother thought she was only bringing him the items he needed to resurrect me, and she was so desperate to achieve it she never suspecte what she was actually doing was collecting exactly what Belial needed to create himself a temporary physical form. It didn’t last long, just long enough for him to take Lucy and leave.”

“Why bring you back to life then?” asked Alastair. “If he got what he wanted then why bring you back?”

“To keep Lucie compliant, I suppose,” said Jesse.

“Why would you keep Lucie compliant?” asked James, tightening his grip on a knife Cordelia hadn’t seen him draw. “Did you have something to do with this? Were you working with Belial too?”

“No,” said Jesse. “No, I was trying to protect her. She— she was the only one that could see me; could talk to me.”

“And you took advantage of that,” said Alastair.

“No,” insisted Jesse. “We formed a friendship. We helped each other. I saved your life James, I gave away my last breath after the first attack with Belial, and because of that Lucie made it her mission to bring me back to life. I didn’t realize until it was too late that she had formed an alliance with my sister who was under the control of my mother and Belial.”

James looked down at Grace.“Do you know where he’s gone?”

“There is no getting to him,” said Jesse.

“I’m not asking you,” whispered James in a way that sent a chill down Cordelia’s spine and fear that if he were to ever use that tone on her, even she might cower. “Where can I find him?”

Cordelia felt as if she might faint. She took several steps backward until her back hit the wall.  

“I don’t know,” shuttered Grace, still clutching her mother’s mink coat.

James stood straight and dragged his hands through his hair until tuffs of it were sticking out from between his fingers. He turned to Thomas and the two began whispering to one another in low voices. Cordelia felt Alastair come to stand beside her, but couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge him. The memories of him lying on the brick ground bleeding were too fresh in her mind, confusing the way that she felt about him when she left the Institute earlier that day. She’d been so angry with him; she hadn’t known that they were moments away from losing each other.

She couldn’t think about that now. There’d be time for forgiveness later, for now, she needed to help find her friend.

Grace pressed her mother’s hand against her cheek. Her tears poured over her mother’s rings, one on nearly every finger. A memory flashed before Cordelia’s mind of Belial twisting a ring around his finger while he spoke to her. A thick, silver one on his boney thumb.

“Grace,” said Cordelia, pushing herself away from the wall and stepped towards the mourning girl who looked so much like a child curled up on the floor. She dropped onto her knees and brushed Grace’s lovely soft curls that she’d once envied away from her face. “I am so terribly sorry for the loss you’ve suffered.” Grace closed her eyes as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “I cannot pretend to imagine how you feel, nor will I, and I want you to know that no one blames you.”

She heard a scoff over her shoulder.

“They’re going to blame her,” said Grace. “She was just trying to save me and my brother. She didn’t want to be alone, and they’re all going to vilify her for it— and me.”

Cordelia understood all too well wearing the sins of one’s parents. Her father tainted their family name long ago. A stain that she’d have to shoulder and battle everyday.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” said Cordelia patting her gently on her back. “Your mother trusted you over everyone else. Did she ever tell you how she conversed with Belial? There had to be some way that she contacted him or he contacted her and if you can help us learn this information and save Lucie, perhaps we can restore some honor back to your mother. Perhaps she can leave this earth having saved your brother and helped to defeat Belial.”

The room grew quiet around her and Grace sniffled. “She never told me directly.” Cordelia held her breath and Grace lowered her mother’s hand and held index finger. “One day, I saw her playing with this ring and thought it peculiar because I’d never seen it on her hand before nor have I ever noticed her playing with it. She dismissed herself from the room and went to her study. I heard her talking rather loudly with someone inside, but when I tried to open the door it was locked. When I mentioned it later, she suggested that I must have been hearing things, but I know that I heard a voice with hers. A male voice. The kind of voice that you do not forget.”

They all stared down at the ring on Tatiana’s finger; everyone too fearful to touch it.

Thomas was the first to speak. “Should one of us put it on?”

“No,” said Alastair. “No one touch it. We should wrap it up and bring it to the adults.”

“We don’t have time for that,” said James and reached for the ring, but Cordelia slapped his hand away.

“Alastair is right,” said Cordelia. “We don’t know what this ring could do if one of us puts it on. It could kill us or something worse.”

“But Lucie,” insisted James.

“Lucie would not be much better if the ring kills one of us and our one chance of finding her is ruined,” said Cordelia as she ripped a piece of her skirt and used it to carefully remove the ring from Tatiana’s stiffening finger. “We’re taking it to Magnus and we’re going to pray he knows what to do with it.”

[vecnawrites]

Since its halloween ive got something that i thought was pretty hot. Pyrrha sitting down at a table looking flushed while watching Dullahan!Jaune train. People assume its from watching her crush get hot and sweaty but jaunes head is eating her out to practise his multi tasking. Some good old fashiond monster stealth sex

A Dullahan’s Lesson In Multitasking!

Pyrrha was a woman on a mission. Jaune, her team leader, her partner, the love of her life, her beloved boyfriend of several months, was still so shy!

Not that that was a problem, no, not at all. That was one of the things she found cute about him when she finally got through the false confidence he wore as a mask.

Part of it was how in over his head he felt at the school, but she knew a great deal of it was because he was of a monster legacy. The first in his family for several generations. And of Dullahan Ancestry to boot.

From all he told her, none of the other children really wanted to play with him as kids due to the superstitious nonsense surrounding the Dullahan species. Honestly, they had believed her belovedly awkward boyfriend would reap their souls. Idiots, the lot of them.

But due to this, Jaune was rather...no, he was incredibly skittish around any sort of physical intimacy...especially due to how his head separated sometimes when nervous or excited.

And that didn't even begin the problems. Nora was excitable and hardly ever left them alone, and the less said about RWBY's shenanigans messing with their ability to be alone, the better!

But this...she had the perfect plan for it. Ren and Nora were currently in Vale. RWBY was currently in detention due to one of their "adventures" (Pyrrha couldn't help but roll her eyes over that), leaving just them alone. Meaning that this plan was sure to work.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by her boyfriend's voice. "So, what's the plan, Pyrrha?" the redhead looked cheerfully at her boyfriend, arousal flooding her core at what was about to happen.

She hummed. "Multitasking in combat." she smirked to herself as she heard Jaune give a little confused noise...he wouldn't be confused for long.

Reaching the training ground that she had procured, she smiled, turning and giving Jaune a gentle kiss and cupping his cheeks. "I need you to trust me, okay Jaune?" she asked.

Jaune looked at her in confusion, but nodded, although he inhaled sharply as Pyrrha tugged, lifting his head off of his shoulders easily.

"What we're going to do is your body is going to go through our normal routine, while you and I are going to be doing something else." she somehow managed to hide the salacious expression she wanted to give her boyfriend, instead managing to stay with more of a mentor-like look.

Jaune swallowed roughly, cheeks warming as his girlfriend apparently hadn't noticed that she was cradling him against her chest. The soft swell pressing against his cheek gave off a warm heat, making his blush even darker as he realized that Pyrrha had forgone a bra.

He could feel himself starting to swell in his pants, and bit the inside of his lip and tried to think of the unsexiest things he could. His girlfriend was going out of her way to train him, the least he could do was not be some creepy pervert, getting hard at the slightest touch. "O-okay…" he swallowed again, nervously directing his body over to the training area as Pyrrha gently carried him to a table set up over in the corner, one that he could see only revealed a person's feet. The legs to waist would be completely covered.

As Pyrrha sat down and placed his head on the table, he found himself clearing his throat as she stared at him intensely, her emerald eyes having a strange gleam to them. "So w-what are we going to be doing, Pyrrha?" he asked.

Pyrrha squirmed in her seat, wetness seeping from her lips and smearing along her inner thighs. Smiling at her boyfriend, she hummed, stroking his cheek with several fingers. "As I said, you're going to be multi-tasking~" she cooed, finally unable to keep a straight face.

Jaune blushed at Pyrrha's tone, but still tried to keep himself calm. "O-okay, so like strategies?" he needed to keep calm, his girlfriend didn't need him perving on her now.

The hum she gave made his body, several yards away, shiver. He swallowed again as Pyrrha picked him up and looked into his eyes with a smile that made his cock twitch in his jeans. "Oh, your mouth will be involved, Jaune...you just won't be talking much."

Confusion filled him, before it was replaced with shock as Pyrrha gently lowered his head down, past her chest (he caught a glimpse of her nipples pressing through her top), and down under the table. He caught sight of a hopeful, outright eager look on her face before his eyes widened as she placed him on the bench between her legs...and underneath her skirt.

His nose was immediately hit with a musky sweetness that made him salivate as he stared at her swollen core, the lips shaven bare and dribbling her arousal before him.

A hand on the back of his head gently pushed him towards the junction between her thighs, flooding his nose and filling his lungs with Pyrrha's scent.

He was pusher further up to her core, close enough that his lips grazed her lower ones. As damp thighs closed around his ears, locking him in place, his eyes hooded and on instinct, he opened his mouth and extended his tongue…

Pyrrha gasped in pleasure mixed with joy, eyes holding as she watched her boyfriend's body go through his training regiment, while feeling his lips and tongue on her aching pussy. Biting her lower lip, she gently ran her fingers through Jaune's hair, happy that she had come up with this idea. They would have to do this again…

Redness filled her cheeks as Jaune became more active, his tongue worming it's way into her core, licking along the inside of her walls. A soft moan exited her mouth, her body trembling as his nose nudged her clit. How was he so good at this!?

Jaune knew that if anyone looked at his body, they would see a bulge making its way down the inside of his right leg. He was thankful it did that rather than stick straight outwards.

Pyrrha's taste washed over his tongue, the sweet, syrupy fluid practically imprinting itself on his tastebuds, making sure he would never forget it.

He would admit, this was undeniably pleasant. He had had his own fantasies, certainly, but he had never thought of this before! But one thing was for sure, this answered the question he never had known how to broach about whether she was ready for sex or not.

He worked his tongue in, feeling her walls grab onto the organ, practically making out with his girlfriend's lower half. He was going to do everything he could to make sure she enjoyed this...he wanted her to never regret trusting him with her pleasure.

Pyrrha licked her lips, feeling her core beginning to quiver. She was going to cum, only minutes after Jaune had started! Part of her was embarrassed, another impressed, and even another lustful for more orgasms after she tipped over.

Her eyes widened as the door opened, and she forcibly schooled her expression as best she could, looking over to see Coco and Velvet peeking in. "Ah, sorry, Pyrrha! Thought this one was unoccupied...why is your boy training without his head?"

Calling the second year girl all manner of foul names in her head, Pyrrha forced herself to speak. "It...it's a test in multitasking...there are going to be times that...that Jaune is separated from his body…" oh, Brothers, she was getting so close, and Jaune wasn't stopping, he was only getting faster! "S-so, it's best he gets u-used to doing t-things while separated. H-he's reading back in the dorm far-right now."

The beret wearing girl stared at her for a long moment, before nodding. "Smart idea. Come on, Bun-Bun, we'll find another training room." the pair retreated, closing the door behind them.

Just in time, too, as Pyrrha tipped over the edge, throwing her head back with a throaty cry, her pussy squeezing and squirting her cum over her lover's face.

As a chuckling Coco and a red-faced Velvet made their way down the hall to another training room, the beret wearing brunette spoke. "Brothers, if Pyrrha were any thirstier, she'd be dehydrated. Getting so flustered over just watching his body train, what's she gonna be like when they do the do?"

Velvet blushed more, refusing to speak up. She knew that Pyrrha had been far more than ‘thirsty’ as she watched Jaune’s body train. The scent of arousal was so strong, she would have thought her masturbating had she not seen both of Pyrrha’s arms on top of the desk...had the redhead hidden a toy in her panties?

If Velvet had known the truth of what she and Coco had walked in on, she’d have been much more embarrassed.

Gently spreading her thighs open, Pyrrha reached down and pulled up her boyfriend’s head, his lips and cheeks smeared with her juices. Bringing her up to his level, she slammed her lips against his, forcing her tongue into his mouth and tangling it with his, uncaring of the fact that she could taste herself.

Pulling away after several moments, they both panted, staring at one another, flushed and wild eyed. “We’re going back to the dorms,” Pyrrha stated, standing and walking shakily over to Jaune’s body, which stood still, “And when we get there, I’m going to suck you until you blow, then, you’re going to fuck me though the bed. And we’re not going to stop until both of us can’t move.” she husked, her voice thick with desire as she fixed Jaune’s head back in place.

“Y-yeah. Sounds great.” Jaune huffed, the full feeling of his throbbing cock hitting him now, having been hard and ignored for at least fifteen minutes. Licking his lips and savoring the last of Pyrrha’s flavor, he grabbed her hand, and they both left the training room, intent on spending as much time as they could becoming closer to one another...and damn whoever got in their way this time.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Hybrid.”

An ending to the prodigum saga, but PLEASE READ ,the ending is going to start us on the most interesting arc yet! 

SERIOUSLY READ THIS ONE.

VERY IMPORTANT

Also, I have a discord server now if you missed it.  https://discord.gg/mpBp5k

Dr Krill dropped his hands standing over where the prodigum lay sprawled on the floor twitching and writhing like the maggot it was. Ktill was very much done. He had been panicking and searching for the commander and Sunny for more than a week. More than a week of worrying and assuming that the worst might have happened. Luckily for everyone involved he had actually been close by when Sunny sent out her distress signal.

He had managed to follow them as far as the correct system with Conn’s mind reading abilities.

But now he was done, he may not have intended it, but he had been captaining a human ship for a week. He tried not to think about how he had partially taken over form the lieutenant, but that was all in the past now.

He could be done with commanding and field work. Krill hated field work, he hated action, and he most certainly hated how much the commander dragged him into this mess.

He turned around watching as the rest of the room was subdued.

“Get a GA cleanup team out her I have a feeling this cleanup is going to be bigger than we intended.” The little doctor announced.” Cannon raised his brightly colored head and went to work as krill had commanded hauling prone bodies from the floor and passing them off to the marines who escorted them over to the far wall.

The massive prodigum stirred, but Krill was having none of that and pressed his button again.

The large ugly mound twitched and writhed.

Overhead he heard cheering, and turned to see the commander’s hands sticking through the bars of his cage, “Straight savage dr. Great work! Now can you get me down? Can you get us down.” 

Krill turned his head surprised to find other humans peering out from their cages with expressions of great relief. They looked sickly,emaciated, and certainly undernourished. With that in mind, he gave the go ahead to one of the others to start lowering the cages. The captain came first while the others followed.

Dr. Katie turned to her other two patients while krill walked over to the captain’s cage. He glowered at him.

“You gonna get me out of here or what?” “Or what.” Krill snarled, crossing his arms, “Do you know I have been keeping a tally of all the times you have been captured kidnapped or otherwise used against your will.”

The commander went to open his mouth but Krill shushed him, “There was that time in a rundi prison, there was that fiasco with general cosma, there was that time in the Turma Prison, there was that time with the starborn, there was that tie with the Kong, there was that time you were almost court martialed, quarantined on the Gromm homeworld. Honestly commander, I am sick-of-your-shit!”

The man still looked bemused, “Got out of all of those, didn’t I.”

“And one of these days you might not.” Krill snarled as the door was open and the commander stepped out. He looked fine all things be told though his cheeks were slightly sunken and there were signs of some serious dehydration. Off to the side of the room, Dr. Katie was busy working on the other patients.

“Get me some water and IVs for the two over there. Get tem a little something to eat too but not too much I dont want any sort of re-feeding issue.” He turned back to look at the commander staring him in the eye while he continued to give orders, “Someone bring me my medical bag.”

Maverick made her way from the other side of the room to hand him his kit and he thanked her, waving her off to go do other things as he had the commander sit down. Looking him over he appeared fine though he had a healing head wound and some greenish yellow bruising on his face.

Other than being a little hungry he didn’t have any complaints to make.

THe conditions of the cage were not particularly sanitary, so kirill was pretty worried about that. The reddish contact rash on his legs and upper back proved that his body tended to agree with krill. He was honestly very glad he didn’t have any sort of sense of smell.

“Lift up your shirt.” 

The man seemed a bit confused but did as told. 

Krill reached into his bag and came out with a medium sized silver device with a trigger and spring attached to a long metal cylinder. He opened up the cartridge at the back and loaded his pre made cylinder. The captain watched him with some interest, “This some kind of tetanus shot or something?”

“No.” Krill said bringing the device up and pressing it against the man’s side just over the rib-cage.

“Than what-”

He depressed the trigger.

The man flinched violently yelped and staggered backwards as a sharp snap filled the room.

“Mother fuck! What the hell!” The human turned to look at Krill who was already waiting with a bandage.

“Krill what the hell.” He growled through gritted teeth leaning over and holding his side, “That hurt like a son of a bitch, what even was that?”

“It is a tracking device.” krill announced with no shame what so ever.

“You just lowjacked me!”

Commander Vir looked incredulous for someone who knew krill well enough to totally be able to guess that this was going to happen.

“Of course I did! Every other day you are getting kidnapped by someone new, and now.” He smiled to himself, “I have just fitted you with the universe’s best tracking module. It is impossible to get rid of, unless someone wants to remove your rib cage that is.” 

“You seriously just lowjacked me!”

“Why does this surprise you?”

“You just saughtered a tracking device to my rib-cage!”

“I am known to be over dramatic, and over excessive, your point is.”

The door at the far end of the room slid open, and Sunny and Ramirez came running into the room.

The commander was about to greet them when they pulled to a stop both panting, wide eyed and wild.

“Sir, sir you have to come see this. I... it’s urgent.”

Looking a little confused, both the commander and the Vrul followed, unwilling to let the human alone just yet.

Commander Vir motioned Cannon and a few others to follow with a finger, and the group of them moved out into the hall.

“We had a team doing a search of the premises.” Ramriez began 

“And we found something.” Sunny finished

“Well don’t leave me suspended in curiosity. What did you find!” 

“Just down here, sir.”

They turned the corner just then and stepped down onto a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. The stairs were wide but strangely short, probably for the use of the prodigum. Everything around was oddly dark though he could hear the sound of pulsing and throbbing generators. 

They stepped down another group of stairs to where a crew member was waiting for them. His face was pallid and drawn, his eyes wide with the realization of what he had just seen.

Krill was worried.

He didn’t like it when humans looked like that.

It generally meant that something was wrong.

The doors before them opened as the Commander stepped up, and they stepped inside.

What they found was an absolutely massive warehouse. At first--because it was the prodigum-- he assumed they were going to find racks and racks of bodies decomposing for the prodigum to feed upon, but what they found…. Well it was much much worse.

This warehouse was at least a human football field in size, and down it’s length there were ten rows of massive glass tubes one after the other. Wires dangled from equipment and piping protruded from the ceiling. Blue green fluid glowed in each tank which bubbled and churned.

Lights blinked from control panels.

A group of aliens were being held against one wall on their knees hands up inside their protective gear.

“Mo-ther-fuck!’ The Commander said quietly

Krill dropped his medical bag to the floor.

Together they ventured forward coming up to the closest glass tube where the thing squirmed and curled inside.

“What the hell is that?”

Krill had no idea, and he was a doctor. At first he might have assumed that this was one of the prodigum’s offspring with all its floppy folds and its too long arms, but the more he looked the more he saw and the more he didn’t like. It had hair where the prodigum usually had tentacles, and fingers where it had had spikes.

When it whirled and turned Krill stepped back in horror as one distinctly human eye rolled back and forth in a lumpy socket.

The commander had a hand over his mouth, “the horror in his eyes was unparalleled by anything krill had ever seen.

“What the hell!”

They  turned together on the spot staring down the row of glass tubes.

Just next to them, the pulsing embryos twitched and churned.

At the doorway someone gasped. Another turned from the room hands over their mouths.

Commander Vir turned his head in a slow circle eyes coming to rest on the far wall where a tarp had been thrown hastily over another line either of tubes or something else.

He slowly approached and krill went with him.

Sunny was at their backs.

Ramirez was looking away 

They could hear sounds now, tortured gurgling noises. The Commander’s face was screwed up in disgust as he reached out a hand and tugged on the tarp.

It fell away with a flourish.

Maverick cursed violently.

Ramirez turned all the way away hands covering his mouth

Sunny froze in her spot.

Krill was speechless 

And inside the commander’s head he was sure he had seen an error 404 before his entire body rebelled.

The thing began to squall and cry, its tortured gasping filling the air with gurgels, similar to human but warped by the prodigum breathing tubes on the side of its flabby neck. They opened and closed with a sort of wet squelching as the thing screamed. A pile of flesh, just folds and folds with the occasional hair sprouting from unknown locations.

It was monstrous

Hideous 

An absolute abomination.

And the only thing that kept it alive was the machine strapped to it.

Kril watched the Commander’s face go red, and then green and then white. He looked as if he was going to throw up as the thing screamed even louder.

When it was too much for any of them the commander reached through the bars with a shaking hand and ripped the machine’s plug from the wall.

What the commander did was a mercy. 

He would later feel guilty about what he did, but what he couldn’t have known is the pain that poor wretched monster had been in, how its mind could not think only consumed by pain it could not stop and thirst it could not quench.

It died gasping and gurgling.

But at least now it was at peace.

The commander staggered away from the wall gasping. His eyes welled with tears as he stared at his hands. But no one questioned his actions. 

“What the hell> ‘Someone whispered 

“Hybrids.” Krill muttered 

They are making 

Hybrids. 

[intubatedangel]

Out of Body: Chapter 2

Sorry for taking so long to get back. A bad year followed straight after by a pandemic hasn’t been great, but i’m slowly getting back to my old self and another recent return inspired me to start trying to write a little bit more. I’ll be honest this part isn’t totally new, I did post it somewhere else around the time of the first chapter, but i noticed I hadn’t updated it on here. I’ll probably do a bit more on this story before going back to Anna Swifts stories. Anyway, it’s been nearly 2 years since chapter 1, so you might to check out the previous parts.

Prologue | Chapter 1 |

********

Once I was strapped down on the orange back board, my broken leg packed into a splint, Dave moved down to my feet, positioning himself to lift me into the ambulance. The cop was still compressing my chest as Jane squeezed another breath into my lungs. “After this round, we move. Grab the gear.” She said to the cop.

 “27…28..29…30” The cop finished with a nod, immediately shifting back and pushing himself to his feet. Jane and Dave had already lifted me into the air. The cop hurried to pick up the monitor, the leads stretching close to their limit before he made up the ground.

 I followed, too caught up in the rush to even notice when my legs passed through the wreckage of my bike. The ambulance doors stood open, the bright lights spilling out across the road. Keith was already standing there, even though I hadn’t seen him move.

 “I think I’ve blown your mind enough for now. I’ll explain later.” He glanced down just in front of my chest. “Lifeline’s looking fragile. Best to stay close for now.”

 He was right. The thread was thinner than before, more wispy. I climbed into the ambulance as the back board was slid onto the gurney. Jane took the monitor from the cop. “Drive.” She commanded as she placed the monitor in its dock. The cop hesitated for a moment, before Jane’s glare seemed to pierce right through him. He spun and headed for the cab, grabbing his radio, telling his partner what he was doing.

 For a second, I was concerned about his partner, but realised that Patterson was not that stupid. His plan was in place. I would die, he would spin the story into a tragic accident and spread some tale of how he tried to save me and the people of the city would eat it up. Dave pulled the doors closed and took up position on my left, commencing compressions without Jane saying anything. She was hooking up a saline bag to the central IV, along with pushing in some syringes, and giving me regular breaths with the ambu bag. I sat down on the bench across from my feet, watching my sister as she danced her steth across my bruised chest.

***

In the bright light of the ambulance I could clearly see the deep purple, almost black, bruising fade through to the pallid grey tone of my flesh. After a cycle of compressions Dave grabbed a pair of shears and snipped off my bra. A smaller bruise was starting to form in the valley between my breasts. As soon as the cups were spread to either side, Dave’s blue gloved hands returned to their position and started thrusting down into me. I could see the wave of each compression translate through my abdomen and down my legs, my feet rocking gently despite the straps of the board and the leg splint.

 Jane gave me another breath then grabbed her radio. “304 to control. We are en-route to City Hospital with an RTC, severe left chest trauma with collapsed lung, multiple limb fractures and currently in full cardiac and respiratory arrest. Resuscitation underway.” She didn’t wait for a reply as she gave me another breath the said to Dave. “One more round then I’ll intubate.”

 There was a sudden rumbling as the cop brought the ambulances engine to life, followed by the sound of the sirens as the vehicle began to accelerate away from the scene. I glanced back to see Keith’s upper body sticking through the back door.

“Could you please not do that?” I asked. In response he shrugged and seemed to drift into the back of the ambulance.

“Sorry, you get used to it after a while.” He sat down beside me, careful to keep himself from interposing with Dave’s legs.

 I shook my head, focusing my attention back on the efforts to save my life. Dave counted out each compression, then once he reached 30 he straightened up. Jane had already prepared the intubation kit. The neck brace already held my head in the proper position as she slid the blade of the scope into my mouth. She followed it up with a size 7 ET tube, pushing it down until only a few inches stuck out between my greying lips, and inflated the cuff. Tossing the mask from the ambu bag to one side, she attached the bag to the tube and gave me a few breaths as Dave listened to my lungs.

“You’re in, but I’m barely hearing anything on the left. Suction her out again.” He told her before looping the steth over his neck and restarting compressions. Jane simply nodded and disconnected the ambu bag, laying it next to my head. The suction tube was threaded down the tracheal tube and began to draw out more blood from my lungs. While the suction tube cleared my lungs, Jane taped the breathing tube securely, two thick strips going from each side of my chin, around the tube, and up onto my cheeks towards my studded ears.

 The suction tube ran dry, so Jane pulled it out and resumed bagging while she studied the monitor. I leaned over to see what she was looking at. The line on the monitor was perfectly flat.

“Epi going in.” Jane said, hoping the drug would stimulate my heart into at least a shockable rhythm. She also attached an oximeter to the ring finger of my right hand. It was brief, but I noticed her squeeze my hand. Dave completed his most recent round of compressions, panting slightly, and turned to look at the monitor. The alarm changed from the persistent whine to something more two tone. “V-fib. That’s it sis, now come on back.”

“Sis?!” Dave exclaimed. “I figured you her but…”Jane didn’t answer, she just forced him out of the way, bringing the paddles down onto the orange squares. After a quick glance to make sure Dave was clear she pressed the buttons. The shock slammed through my chest, the straps of the backboard holding me down as muscles around my chest suddenly contracted. The only thing that didn’t react was my heart. “No change.” Dave said quietly.

 Jane didn’t even look at him as her thumbs manipulate the other buttons on the paddles. “360. Stay back.” The defib signalled its readiness a moment before another shock jolted my body. The monitor began to whistle before I was even still. Jane cast the paddles aside, her professional façade starting to crumble as she began rapid, almost frantic compressions.

 The way her body rocked over my chest I could finally see her aura clearly. The fear had grown, almost over-riding everything else. The anger was there, but different, not directed at me, but inward. The gold of determination was little more than a thread, and it was fading, as was my lifeline.

I looked at Keith. “Can’t you do something?”

He frowned, biting his lip. “I…”

“You can clearly do something. Please. Please do it.” I begged.

“It’s not so simple. It takes a lot of energy. I’ll need to return to my source. I won’t be able to guide you.”

“That won’t matter if I’m dead!” I had gotten to my feet, clipping through the gurney where my body rocked. Dave was bagging me with one hand, while his other held a penlight, running it over my eyes.

“Pupils are sluggish.” He said with a sigh.

Keith mirrored the paramedics sigh. “Ok. It’s not a guarantee, I can’t take control or give her any ideas. All I can do is reinforce an emotion. Then it’s up to her. Just stay close to yourself. I’ll find you when I can.”

I nodded and watched as he stepped up right behind her. He reached out, his hands on either side of her head. I tried to figure out what he was doing, but all I could see was the thin gold thread strengthening. It grew rapidly, crowding out the other emotions. As it grew, Jane’s compressions became steadier, her face more focused. Then, with a flash, Keith disappeared.

***

Jane, almost glowing with determination, finished her round of compressions and grabbed the orange gel pad from my left side. She ordered Dave to take over compressions as she started to root around in one of the cupboards.

“What are you doing?” He asked, as she placed a sterile cloth on the bench beside the ethereal me. She didn’t reply as she placed a scalpel, some gauze, a bottle of iodine and an uncuffed size 7 ET tube with a stylet on the cloth. “You aren’t planning on…”

She cut him off. “She needs a chest tube, or she dies.” Jane dabbed the gauze with iodine and began to spread it over the side of my chest.

“You’re not qualified Jane! We don’t even have the proper equipment!” He reached over for the ambu bag and squeezed it twice, before Jane shunted him to the side. “If you screw this up you’ll kill her!”

 Jane turned on him, a blaze of anger, scalpel in hand. “She’s been down for 20 minutes Dave. We’re 10 away from the ER. She’s already dead, unless I do this. I won’t lose her too.” With that last whispered statement, she leaned down over my lifeless body and started using her fingers to count down my ribs. I didn’t realise I’d moved until I watched my ghostly hand pass through her shoulder.

“That wasn’t your fault.” I whispered, even though she couldn’t hear me. “You were 15.”

“4th intercostal space.” Jane muttered as she lowered the scalpel toward my flesh, her hand steady. With one smooth motion she sliced through the skin, a trickle of blood running down my side. She quickly sterilised her finger with the iodine and pushed through the hole, nodding to herself. She grabbed the tube and eased it in alongside her finger, keeping a close eye on the depth indicators along its length.

There was a sudden rush of blood into the tube, held in by the cap of the insertion stylet. “It’s in!” Jane shouted with a grin. She grabbed a carboard spit tray and held it underneath the end of the tube before pulling out the stylet. The blood flowed out of the tube for about 10 seconds, gradually slowing to a trickle. “Give her a breath.”

Dave squeezed the ambu bag my chest rising in response. When it did, it rose evenly. Jane let out a long breath. “That’s it Laura. Start compressions Dave.” He complied, beginning to press down on my battered chest once more. After a dozen compressions Jane clamped the chest tube to prevent it from drawing air back into my chest and began to prepare some more syringes of drugs. She scooted around Dave and pushed the drugs into my system.

Jane gently squeezed the ambu bag every few seconds, keeping one eye on my chest to make sure my lung inflated properly. Between each breath she looked at the monitor, whispering something to herself. After 2 rounds of 30 compressions she held up a hand. I leaned forward to get a look at the monitor. The previously flat trace bounced erratically, and an alarm blared in the confines of the ambulance.

“She’s back in Vfib!” She grabbed the paddles and twisted the dial to 360 as Dave replaced the second gel pad, placing it just beside the improvised chest tube. “I’m all charged, stand clear. Shocking!”

The shock hit my body, my chest convulsing. I fell still, and for a moment silence reigned. No monotone scream, no blaring alarm. Then there was a bleep. Followed by another. And another.

 “Sinus! She’s back with us!” Jane exclaimed, her aura washing through with something that must have been happiness. Or relief. Then I felt a hard tugging on my entire ethereal body. I glanced at the lifeline, broad and practically buzzing with strength. Then it tugged on me again much harder, pulling me towards the broken but alive body on the gurney. I got one last look at Jane, a tear rolling off her cheek as she whispered into my ear, before everything went black.