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songbirdsingingthings · 4 years ago

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Heartbeats - Levi Ackerman x Reader

WARNINGS: Season 4 Spoilers, Mentions of Blood, Stitching up Major Injuries, Somewhat Angst, Ending In Fluff, FLOCH SLANDER

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: I REPEAT - SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!! Okay, so basically in this, you replace Hange in the little ride that she, Floch, and the rest of his little group takes out into the wilderness when they end up finding the remnants of the cart explosion. This also means you find out what happens to Levi (poor bby). I hope you enjoy, I had a lovely time writing this!

To put it simply, you were pissed off. If anyone could do a deep dive into your brain, navigate your nervous systems, and land themselves straight into your amygdala, they would find out just how livid you are. Being betrayed by your comrades was one thing. You’ve seen corruption in the military before whether it be in the Military Police or in the Garrison, so you knew it was only a matter of time that a seed of deceit sprouted within the Scout Regiment. However, you didn’t think that there would be so many to purposely go against their oath and betray the core values and people who helped the Scouts become who they were. But the real kicker was that you and Hange, two of the highest ranking people in the regiment, were being led out by gunpoint by Floch. As one of the last remaining captains of the Scouts, you were almost humiliated at the thought of cadets technically holding your life in their hands as the group of you rode on horseback.

“Move along Y/N, we don’t have all day.” Floch said. You didn’t have to turn your head to see the power hungry grin donning the red head’s face. Instead, you scoffed and moved one of your hands up to tug the hood of your cape lower over your face. The rain was pelting your back relentlessly and you shuddered a little at the chill that ran down your back. Of course the rain had to come to make this experience even more miserable than it already was. You wished that Hange was by your side on this little outing, but of course, the little group headed by Floch would only take one of you out at a time. Pay no mind, just try to get through this, you tell yourself, gritting your teeth. You turn your focus onto happier thoughts to try and propel yourself through this little “mission”. Your mind flitted to random, somewhat material things; a freshly washed and dried long sleeve shirt, a cup of soothing tea, and using your ODM gear just for fun. But, like all thoughts of yours tend to do, they all turned onto the man that had been stationed out in the woods for weeks. Levi Ackerman. Four, maybe five years ago, you never would have thought that the gray-eyed man could become anything closer to you than a colleague, much less a boyfriend. But, things just fell weirdly into place, setting up your relationship. Oh, what he would say when he finds out what has been happening back at HQ, you muse, your mouth twitching into a small smile. However, your somewhat appeased expression morphed into one of confusion when a sudden cracking noise reverberated through the air and landed on the ears of you and the group of traitorous scouts.

“Uh… Floch?” You hear one of the scouts say, their voice laced with concern.

“What the hell was that?” Floch asks.

“Thunder maybe?” Another scout chimes in, not sounding confident in their answer. Your eyebrows knit in perplexity as your eyes narrow in the direction the sound came in. Then, it all comes together. A Thunder Spear. You conclude. A lump in your throat forms. But why? The only people out in the woods would be… Levi.

“Let’s head in that direction.” The redhead concludes. The group wordlessly kicks their horses into a canter as everyone heads toward a more northern direction. It’s only when you get closer to the forest’s tree line that you see where that sound came from. In the short distance, a somewhat mangled titan was laying down on its stomach, but closer to you was the wreckage of a wooden cart. Planks of wood were sticking out haphazardly, and to your sorrow, so were two horses. You heard the murmurs of confusion from Floch’s group, but your focus remained on one of the horses. Why was your attention captured by such a sad sight? This poor, jet black horse was on its side. It almost reminded you of Levi’s… no, it looks exactly like his horse. Hurriedly, but not so fast as to draw attention to yourself, your eyes and head dart around the surroundings of the wreckage. Over the drenched plains and tall grass, nothing was out of the norm. Until your eyes landed a green Scout Regiment cloak with its hood up, definitely covering a person’s body that you recognized immediately. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Without hesitation, you hopped off your horse - your feet almost getting tangled in the stirrups of the saddle - and sprinted towards the cloak-wrapped body.

“CAPTAIN Y/N, DO NOT RUN OFF!” Floch shouts over the downpour of rain. Paying no mind to the mud that caked your boots and the stinging of the tall grass as it cut and pricked your face. You reach him and flip him over immediately. As soon as you see his face, you audibly gasp. A long, slightly deep cut stretched from just on top of his right brow, over his right eye, over his mouth, and then finally stopped at his chin. Substantially sized wood chips were buried into his left cheek. What made your hands shake, though, was the fact that all over his pale face and stuck in his silky black hair was his blood. You jostle him once, then twice, and then finally a third time to yield no movement from him.

“ARE YOU ALIVE?” You shout into his ear, your voice trying to reach his eardrums. “ANSWER ME, PLEASE!” You feel your heart breaking as his lips don’t move and his eyes don’t flutter with movement. Never did you think that your time with him would run out. Humanity's strongest soldier, the captain of the special ops squad, and the love of your life taken out of the world just like that? No. He was too stubborn, too hellbent on avenging Erwin and making sure that you don’t get yourself into ‘dumb predicaments’ as he likes to say. You hug his limp body close to you and press your ear to his chest. You knew that Floch and his cronies would be surrounding you soon, but you just wanted one last moment with you and him alone. Your eyes closed as you nestled yourself into him in a last ditch effort in order to find some final comfort from him. All you could hear was the rain and the faint squelching of the “Scouts’” boots coming towards you. But then, as light as a feather, a heartbeat. Your eyes shoot open as you press your ear against his chest closer to his chest, trying to make sure what you heard wasn’t a hallucination. Another heartbeat, although faint, was there. You didn’t have time to react when you heard a voice from behind you.

“I don’t know what happened, but we got lucky. Our biggest threat, now covered in his own blood.” Floch’s words pierced your heart. How he could be so insensitive, so disrespectful of a human life.

“I’ll send a shot through his head.” Another one said.

“He’s dead.” You quickly say, earning silence from the rest of the group. If he’s going to stay alive, I have to act fast. I have to make up stuff on the fly. You say to yourself. “He must have been hit by a Thunder Spear explosion at close range,” you say, incorporating the cracking noise that everyone heard. “I saw something similar in a training accident when Hange was in the developing stage with prototypes. He might not look dead, but his vital organs are in shreds. He died immediately from the internal bleeding.” You say, trying your best to convince them that Levi was, in fact, ready to be buried six feet under. You look up to Floch, forcing tears to spring from your eyes in order to fully sell the effect.

“Well, I know how to take a pulse. Lemme see him and I’ll check to make sure that he is, as you say, dead.” Floch said, nonchalantly. Shit. But, like some higher power was looking down on you, the titan near the treeline produced a strange smoky-like substance, gaining the attention from the group.

“What’s going on?”

“I haven’t seen anything like this before.”

“What do we do?” Comments from everyone in the group were voiced, everyone’s eyes - including yours - trained on the origin of the smoke. And there, like he emerged from a phoenix’s ashes, was Zeke. Your eyes widen, and then narrow. They’re obsessed with Zeke and Eren. This is my chance. Gripping Levi as tightly as you can and putting all of your energy into this exact moment, you launched you and Levi into the river that ran right next to you. You could hear the warped voices of the traitorous scouts as you plunged into the freezing water, but you couldn’t and wouldn’t turn your head. They had the guns, they had the manpower, and they had the higher ground. The only way you and Levi would survive this is if you swam down the river. So, you swam, and swam, and swam.

You gasp and cough up water as you resurface, immediately putting your efforts into getting Levi out of the river water. You manage to push his body and roll it a foot away from the riverbank before you get swept under the water again. FIGHT, DAMMIT! You scream to yourself, clawing your way out and onto the land next to Levi. With another cough and hack, you grab hold of your unconscious boyfriend and somewhat drag, somewhat carrying him into the woods to find what little shelter you could get. You whip your head around quickly to survey your surroundings, finding solace in the fact that it’s just the two of you.

“O-okay,” you waver, your mind strained and your body exhausted, “there’s no one here or after us right now. We’re safe for right now.” You say, hopeful that Levi could hear you. You quickly make a camp out of the supplies that you had on your back as well as the things you could find in nature. Thankfully, every scout - captain or cadet - was required to carry a full tent and sleeping pack, so as quickly as you could, you set those both up. From when you were hammering in the little pegs of the tent and unfolding and rolling out the sleeping pack, you kept a watchful eye on Levi. Finally, everything was set up and a small campfire was roaring. Now, you could officially tend to him. You peel back the cloak from his body and set in near the fire to dry it off. Pulling Levi gently over and onto the sleeping pack, you brush back his hair from his face so that you could fully assess his injuries.

“Oh Levi…” You murmur, taking in that big scar again. There was no doubt that he had gone blind in his right eye. All you could hope was that there is no infection. So, quickly, you take out your first aid kit and get to work. First, you start to remove the wood chips from his face with tweezers. “You know, you would be furious if you saw how Floch treated Hange and the rest of the leading officials within the Regiment. Probably would’ve ended him right then and there.” You blab, trying to distract yourself and talk to Levi at the same time. Pulling wood out of your boyfriend’s face was not something you loved doing. Thankfully, there weren’t that many chips and they didn’t splinter, so that work was quick. Now came the monstrous task of stitching up those gashes stretching across his face. The one on his cheek didn’t worry you, but the one stretching across his eye and mouth most definitely did. So, to try and fuel your confidence, you start with the smaller and less dependent one. After a couple of shaky tries, you finally thread the needle and tie a knot at the end of it to prevent the stitch from coming undone.

“Okay, you can do this Y/N. It’s just like when your mom used to stitch up your clothes, right? Just nice and slow…” you say to yourself, bringing the needle to his mangled skin. “Levi, I can’t believe you’re making me do this you asshole!” You whine, a few tears falling from your eyes as you finally stick the needle through his skin and stitching it together. You got into a steady rhythm, messing up a bit here and there, but eventually getting the job done. You grab the little thread scissors and snip off the end of the thread, tying the little thread at the end of the gash tightly, but not as taut as to rip the stitching.

“Now onto the big one.” You breathe, prepping yourself. With a deep breath and a scrunch of your eyes, you begin at his chin and start making your way up. It was a short distance to stitch to his bottom lip, but you hated to sew that part up. Those lips were always so soft against your skin. From pressing butterfly kisses to your shoulders when you would wake up in bed, quick ones to your forehead before leaving for a mission, and passionate ones to your lips when you would finally get back, those lips comforted you and helped you through the tough reality of living. Now, you had to leave a permanent reminder on his lips that he wasn’t as invincible as he might’ve once thought. You tie that part off before starting at his top lip, making your way up to his eye. This was the part you were dreading. Those silver irises drew your attention in whichever situation you were in. Whether it be a meeting of the minds or just a quick glance his way, you would get absolutely lost in those gray pools. Now, he would have only one and his vision would be used through a single eye.

“Come on L/N, you’ve got this.” You whisper while starting to stitch his eye. It was a rough, uncomfortable experience, but finally you made it over his eye and to his forehead. And, with one last tie and a snip from the scissors, you were done. The last thing you had to do was wrap his right hand. You discovered, when dragging him through the river, just how far his injuries extended. Two of his fingers, his middle and index, were cut clean off. It pained you to know that he would have to relearn how to use ODM gear again. The tool he was a master and artist at using, making himself look graceful and deadly at the same time, he would have to relearn. You just covered his hand and wounds quickly, and let your mind veer from that. You cleaned his face again, swiping a clean strip of your shirt, a piece you ripped off, and went carefully over his stitches and took extra care in the more tender areas. Then, you threw it to the side and plopped down at his side, staring at the grass in front of you.

“What the hell do we do now…” You say, your voice dry and void of life, your eyes sullen. “We can’t stop Zeke between you, me, and the rest of the scouts we have on our side. Eren’s on this weird and insane rampage, ostracising Mikasa and Armin from himself, as well as the rest of us. The Yeagerists are becoming this crazed cult by seizing control over everything… I just do not know what to do.” You confess, laying all of your feelings out for him to, hopefully, hear. Glancing back at Levi, you see he’s still motionless. However, you see the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and that comforts you for now.

Levi is still unconscious when you begin formulating ideas on how to get him back or get help in general. Armin, Mikasa, and the rest of the 104th cadets were being kept somewhere, you knew that much. You had no way of knowing where they were keeping Hange or how she was doing, and the other top ranking officials of each of the different regiments were either colluding with the Yeagerists or being beaten to a pulp by them. Even Hitch, a member of the Garrison that everyone had taken a large liking to, was probably still guarding Annie who was stuck in her crystal for four five years and counting. Your thoughts were put to a hold, though, when a beam of light and a booming sound erupted from the walls. You spun around to face the light, absolutely dumbstruck at the sight. You had seen something like this before, for example whenever Armin or Eren changed into their respective titans, but this was something different.

“Oh my-” You begin to say, but then a strangled sounding groan was voiced. Levi. Whipping your head to face him, you find the black-haired man sitting up slowly and grumbling.

“The Beast… That piece of shit… where is he…?” You quickly make your way over to him, pressing a gentle hand to his stomach.

“Hey, easy, lay back down.” You order softly. To your surprise, he complies. “Zeke went back to Shiganshina with the Yeagerists.” You explain, trying to answer Levi’s question. You see the absolutely defeated look in his eye, but was not able to see his frown through the wrappings you had placed around his head to dress his wounds. “Levi,” you ask softly, bringing your hand to lightly hold his left hand, “what happened?” His gaze left yours to look beyond yourself, maybe towards the sky.

“I screwed up. I didn’t take into question whether Zeke was ready to die or not. I guess he was since he triggered that thunderspear I had aimed towards his neck. I let him get away. Again.” His eyes went back onto yours.

“I… I know you’re upset and you want your revenge, I really do. But, for right now, I think that we-”

“If we keep running and hiding, where the hell will that get us.” Levi interrupts. You press your mouth into a tight line and look away from him.

“I know, I agree.” You say, sighing. “We’ll get back there, back into the action. We’ll make things right.”

“My goal is to kill Zeke.” He says. You know that killing Zeke has been on his mind ever since Erwin, and you know it will never leave it. However, you can’t stop the worry that rises within you when you think about how that may be Levi’s only goal. How after he completes it, he won’t make new goals or find new dreams to carry out within life. Your body goes a bit rigid and now you turn away from him completely. However, if you could see Levi’s face, you would know that he realizes how his wording found a way to hurt you, and he hated that. He hated the thought that you had to risk your neck for his, take care and stitch him up, and now put up with him. “Y/N-”

“No, I understand.” You say, turning your face back to his and pressing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes onto your face.

“Y/N.” He says more forcibly now, causing your fake smile to drop. “Killing Zeke is my goal. It’s not my entire life's purpose.” Tears start to well in your eyes as you bite your cheek, willing them to stop.

“Okay.” You croak, grasping onto his hand tighter. You feel his grip on you tighten as well. “Levi Ackerman, we will get through this, do you understand me? You are not allowed to die on me until we are both old and gray and on rocking chairs outside on the little patio in front of our house, got it?” You say, letting the tears flow freely.

“Until we’re old and gray.” He repeats, nodding. You sigh out of pure exhaustion and lay down next to him.

“It fucking sucked stiching you up. I don’t understand how medics do that.” You say, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, well, I could tell the stitches are shoddy at most. You’ll probably leave me with an ugly ass scar across my face.” He bites back. This earns a smile from you as you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his left cheek.

“You could prove to be a whole lot nicer to me. I had to drag your ass through a river.”

“I would’ve paid money to see you swim.” He muses, earning a drop of the jaw from you.

“Hey, I can swim fine!” You reason. A few beats of silence pass.

“Thank you. For dragging me away from those little shits and cleaning me up.” You nod and let one of your hands fall on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It’s steady and consistent this time, causing a smile to spread across your face as you close your eyes.

“I love you.” You say, grasping onto his shirt.

“I love you too. And I promise, for the rest of your life, I’ll be there for you too.” Unfortunately, the last part of confession falls upon deaf ears on your part since you passed out into a much needed sleep. That’s okay to him, though. He would be there by your side to tell you that again, and again, and again.

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siancore · 4 years ago

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Concerned Friend

Summary: Sam is a little tense after a disagreement with Sarah. Bucky goes to check on him. He is, after all, a concerned friend. But they're both hot for each other and things escalate quickly.

Pairing: SamBucky

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1,853

AO3 Link

It had taken Bucky a while, but he had finally begun to see Sam’s point of view on things. Sam had a lot of weight to carry, not just with his family and community, but with wider society. And society wasn’t always gentle, caring, or understanding to him. Bucky had come to find some understanding after Sam, not being able to take any more of his shit, had scolded Bucky and told him what for. Afterwards, they had talked. Sam had explained how their world was set up to benefit the people who looked like Bucky at the expense and oppression of those who looked like Sam. Bucky had wanted to reach out and hold Sam when he saw all of the pain behind his eyes. But he didn’t. That wasn’t something that they did.

Even now, as Bucky decided that he was going to go to Sam to comfort him after yet another disagreement with Sarah, he wasn’t quite sure of how he would do that. He figured just letting the guy know he was there and that he cared would suffice.

Bucky tread lightly on the small steps, but still alerted Sam to his presence as he set his feet on the decking below. The younger man was busying himself by tinkering with the boat’s engine. An oil rag slung over his shoulder and a wrench in hand.

“You come to tell me to go back and talk things through with Sarah?” Sam asked while not turning to look at Bucky. “Since y’all are besties now.”

Bucky shook his head, even though Sam didn’t see the gesture.

“Nah, not gettin’ in between that. Just came to see if you’re alright,” Bucky proffered as he stepped closer to Sam. The aroma of Sam’s natural scent mixed with his cologne and a hint of engine oil did something to Bucky. Made his stomach feel tight. Made him feel lightheaded in the best way. “Just wanted to check on you.”

Sam let out a sigh and then turned. The light streaming into the bowels of the craft glinted in Sam’s eyes and Bucky’s breath hitched. Sam was so beautiful it hurt to look at him sometimes.

“Thanks, man,” said Sam as he leaned against the engine and folded his arms across his broad chest. Bucky secretly loved when Sam did that. Was real hard for him not to stare when Sam did that. He was so gorgeous.

“So, you’re okay?”

“Sure,” Sam replied, as he rolled his head back, trying to ease some tension in his neck.

Bucky watched the way Sam’s skin became taut and inviting. He always made the simplest action look incredibly attractive. He was incredibly attractive, and Bucky found himself on the verge of salivating. He had gone to Sam trying, in his way, to offer comfort, yet instead he was ogling the man and thinking what it would be like to taste every inch of his skin.

A moment passed between them until Sam lifted his eyebrows and gave Bucky a questioning look.

“You needed somethin’ or you just came down here to stare at me?” asked Sam as he placed the wrench aside, trying to lighten the mood as the air was now thick with tension.

A different tension than what Sam was feeling before. This had the hairs on their arms standing up and their stomachs somersaulting. Bucky watched as Sam’s gaze fell to his lips briefly before he swallowed hard. Unbeknownst to Sam, Bucky could hear the faint beating of Sam’s heart. Bucky instinctively moved closer, and Sam’s heartbeat quickened.

“What do you need?” asked Bucky carefully, clearly, as he closed the distance between them. By the time he was reaching his flesh hand up to caress Sam’s face, it was too late to pull away. He couldn’t pull away. Sam had that affect, drawing him in, even when he hadn’t realized it.

A delightful quiver rippled through Sam’s body as Bucky ran his thumb over Sam’s bottom lip.

“What’re you offering?” asked Sam, his voice low and laden with desire.

Bucky smiled crookedly at Sam before leaning in and pressing a tentative kiss to his lips. Sam responded by parting his lips and allowing Bucky’s tongue entrance. Bucky moaned and then licked into Sam’s mouth as he slid his hand to the back of Sam’s head and pressed their bodies together. The kiss was wet and hot and almost desperate. Bucky kissed Sam with focus and Sam kissed him back like he would cease to exist if he stopped. They drew apart after a moment, each clutching the other’s shirts and breathing warmly against each other’s lips.

Bucky rubbed his nose against Sam’s and smiled, before bringing his mouth to Sam’s neck. He nipped and sucked a moment while Sam let out pleased little whimpers.

“Damn, Buck. Didn’t know that mouth was actually good for somethin’,” Sam teased, still finding the presence of mind to talk shit the other man.

Bucky laughed near Sam’s ear, causing him to shiver, before he sucked Sam’s earlobe into his mouth and said, “Baby, you got no idea.”

Their lips crashed together once again before a breathless Bucky snaked his hand between their bodies, rubbed Sam’s arousal through his jeans, and asked, “Want me to show you?”

Sam relished in the feeling of Bucky rubbing him through the coarse fabric until he finally remembered Bucky had asked him a question.

“Yeah,” said an equally breathless Sam. “Shit, yeah. Okay.”

Bucky smiled and pecked Sam’s lips chastely before dropping down to his knees in front of Sam. He ran both hands up under Sam’s shirt, enjoying the warmth of Sam’s skin.

He palmed at Sam’s abs and then said, “Hold this up, Sammy. I want you to watch me.”

Sam felt his cock jerk and did as he was told. He held the hem of his shirt up as he watched as Bucky unbuckled his belt and drew his zipper down. Bucky smiled up at Sam as he pulled Sam’s jeans off his hips. He rubbed Sam through his briefs and Sam moaned. Bucky thumbed the area where Sam’s precum left a darkened, damp spot.

“Already hard and wet for me, uh?” Bucky teased before kissing Sam’s navel.

“Do you ever shut up?” asked Sam with no heat behind his words.

Bucky let out a small laugh as he reached his flesh hand into Sam’s underwear. Both men held their breath a moment at the contact. Bucky’s hand was firm and warm, Sam’s dick was hard and hot.

“Jesus, Sammy,” said Bucky as he took Sam’s stiff length from his briefs. It was long, thick, and a shade darker than the rest of him with a smooth pink tip. “You really are pretty all over. I knew you would be.”

The butterflies in Sam’s tummy wilted from the flash of heat that rose up as Bucky licked his wet tongue over the tip of Sam’s dick.

Bucky made a humming sound as he licked once more and said, “Shit, you taste good, too.”

Sam was not one to ever look a gift horse in the mouth, but he was starting to throb and Bucky was down there, holding his dick and giving running commentary.

“You know,” said Sam as he placed his hand to the back of Bucky’s head. “When you’re givin’ a blow job, there’s usually not this much talkin’. You done this before, Buck?”

Bucky let out a little amused huff and started to stroke Sam’s shaft before saying, “Wilson, if I didn’t fall from that goddamn train when I did, I probably would’ve been given a court-martial from all the cocks I sucked.”

“God, Barnes. Why do you have such a morbid sense of humor?”

Sam’s question went unanswered because after one more delightfully deft stroke, Bucky licked the entire length of Sam’s dick, from base to tip, and then wrapped his pink, wet lips around his crown.

“Shit,” said Sam as Bucky’s warm mouth enveloped him and he placed his hand firmly at the bottom of Sam’s shaft. Bucky gripped him with the perfect amount of pressure as he began to suck him off, bobbing his head while working his hand up and down. Drawing more moans and curses from Sam.

Bucky moved his tongue over Sam’s smooth, dripping head, drinking him up before swallowing his entire length. Sam cursed again as he felt his cock slide down Bucky’s throat. Sam instinctively thrusted his hips forward a little before Bucky pulled off his dick and stroked it. He looked up at Sam while kissing his shaft. A tear ran from the corner of Bucky’s eye and Sam wiped it away. He watched as Bucky licked his tip and lapped up the precum as it dripped from Sam’s thick, veiny cock. He watched as Bucky devoured him again, sucking his swollen dick and humming.

Sam’s eyes rolled shut as he relished in the feeling of Bucky’s skillful mouth. As Bucky sucked him harder, work his hand over him faster. Licking and sucking and humming. Stopping only to strum Sam and tell him how gorgeous he was. How good he tasted. How he tasted better than anyone else. How Bucky could suck his pretty cock all day. How he made Bucky hard. How Bucky was so, so hard for him. And then he would take Sam between his swollen, pink lips again and suck hungrily. Greedily. Bringing Sam closer to his release.

Sam felt the heat pooling as his balls tightened. He tapped Bucky’s shoulder to let him know he was about to come. Bucky pulled off just far enough so that he could open his mouth and place his tongue under Sam’s spurting tip as Sam came in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Sam murmured as he looked down at the sight of Bucky taking his load, all thick white streams of it, and swallowing it up. “Shit, Buck. Get up here.”

Bucky let go of Sam’s shuddering dick and then stood. Sam pulled him in for a messy, hot kiss. Moaning as he tasted himself on Bucky’s lips. Sam’s spent cock was still out as he reached between their bodies and began to unzip Bucky’s jeans.

“You don’t gotta,” Bucky whispered as he kissed Sam’s neck.

“Fuck that,” said Sam as he took hold of Bucky big, hard cock and began to jerk him off. “You deserve it after that.”

Both men smiled and shared another kiss. Bucky was already dripping and close to coming. He knew it would only take a few skillful strokes from Sam and he’d be spilling his seed. The pair held one another as Bucky moaned unashamedly at the precipice of his orgasm.

“Fuck, Sammy. Sammy,” Bucky cried out, about to come undone.

Sam kissed his sweat drenched brow.

“Thanks for coming to check on me, Buck,” Sam whispered as he held Bucky close and finished him off.

Bucky came with thick ribbons of white covering Sam’s fingers before he kissed Sam’s lips once more. He rested his brow against Sam’s as he fought to catch his breath and said, “Any time, baby.”

#sambucky #sambucky smut #sambucky fanfiction

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 4 years ago

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Hi! So first of all I want to clarify that I'm not in any way saying jc isn't a homophobe, because I mean, it's pretty obvious. However back when I read the mxtx interview I read her answer as 'wwx acted all of a sudden very different with lwj, to the point where it was jarring for jc who had not seen him act that way before.' I do not think jc understood at all wwx's affections towards lwj, and this did not think it was disgusting because he saw it as flirting. (1/2)

I find it weird that people use it as a 'proof' that jc is homophobic when it's not straightforwardly telling us it's homophobia, and also since you know, the novel is right there and tells us far more clearly that jc is, in fact, a homophobe. (2/2)

So, here, I agree the interview isn't a stated full explanation in itself and not to be used as evidence alone.

I think that at the time it was not fully homophobia on his part when he had first noticed Wei Wuxian's attention for Lan Wangji in Cloud Recesses. Jiang Cheng had never understood Wei Wuxian's penchant for wanting to be around Lan Wangji and I think that his surprise of Wei Wuxian flirting with a man (He himself talks about how he never thought it odd with Wei Wuxian flirting with women all the time) Lan Wangji was always the strange outlier for flirting. It steadily devolves into more overt homophobia as they get older.

Cloud Recesses when they're 15,

Wei WuXian replied, “Yeah, I also thought that he should be praised for having the courage to come see me. He was probably told by his uncle to come check if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng instinctively felt a foreboding sensation, “Were you kneeling properly?”

Wei WuXian, “I was kneeling properly. After he was some distance away, I found a stick and started to dig in the dirt. The pile beside your foot. There’s an ant hole there that I went through tons of trouble to find. When he turned his head, he saw that my shoulders were shaking, and he definitely thought that I was crying. He even came back to ask me. You really should have seen his expression as he saw the ant hole.”

“…” Jiang Cheng spoke, “You should get lost and go back to Yunmeng as soon as possible! I don’t think that he wants to see you ever again.”

The part that sticks out here is the fact that Jiang Cheng feels any sense of foreboding at all for a silly situation that Lan Wangji had walked away from seeing Wei Wuxian was actually okay. It's the first seed of him continuing the line of thought that "He hates you". He is already feeling strange about Wei Wuxian's flirting and chooses to sort of project this hate into Lan Wangji for Wei Wuxian.

Lotus Pier summer after Cloud Recesses lessons:

I just thought of someone.”

Jiang Cheng, “Who?”

Wei WuXian, “Lan Zhan.”

Jiang Cheng, “Why would you think of him for no reason? Reminiscing what it felt like to copy sect rules?”

Wei WuXian spat out a seed, “It’s fun to think of him. You don’t even know—he’s just too amusing. I told him, ‘Your sect’s food is disgusting. I’d rather eat stir-fried watermelon peel than eat your food. If you have time, come have fun with us at Lotus Pier…'”

Before he even finished, Jiang Cheng slapped his watermelon off, “Are you mad? Inviting him to Lotus Pier—are you trying to torture yourself?”

Wei WuXian, “Why are you so upset? My watermelon almost flew away! I was just being polite. Of course he wouldn’t come. Have you ever heard of him go anywhere by himself to have fun?”

Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

Wei WuXian, “I never knew you hated him so much?”

Jiang YanLi sat down between the two, “Who are you talking about? A friend you made in Gusu?”

Wei WuXian responded happily, “Yeah!”

Jiang Cheng, “What a shameless ‘friend’ you are. Go ask Lan WangJi and see if he wants you as one.”

Wei WuXian, “Fuck off. If he doesn’t want me, I’ll bother him to the point that he does.” He turned to Jiang YanLi, “Shijie, do you know Lan WangJi?”

Jiang YanLi, “I do. He’s that Lan-er-gongzi whom everyone describes as handsome and talented, isn’t he? Is he really that handsome?”

Wei WuXian, “He is!”

Jiang YanLi, “Compared to you?”

Wei WuXian thought about it for a moment, “Maybe just a bit more handsome than me.”

He formed a tiny bit of space between two fingers. Taking the plate away, Jiang YanLi smiled, “He must be truly very handsome, then. It’s a good thing you made a new friend. In the future, you two can visit each other in your free time.”

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng spat out his watermelon. Wei WuXian waved his hands, “Forget it, forget it. All that’s at his place is bad food and a whole lot of rules. I’m not going again.”

Jiang YanLi, “Then you can bring him here. This is a good opportunity. Why not invite your friend to come stay at Lotus Pier for sometime?”

Jiang Cheng, “Don’t listen to his nonsense, Jie. He’s super annoying in Gusu. Lan WangJi would never want to come home with him.”

Wei WuXian, “What do you mean!? He would.”

Jiang Cheng, “Wake up. Lan WangJi told you to get lost, didn’t you hear? You still remember that?”

Wei WuXian, “What do you know!? Even though he told me to get lost on the surface, I know for sure that he secretly wants to come play with me in Yunmeng—in fact, he would love to.”

Wei Wuxian is still in the belief that Lan Wangji does like him. Jiang Cheng of course isn't amused by Jiang Yanli's indulgence in Wei Wuxian's daydreams. Wei Wuxian continues to, well, essentially pine innocently about Lan Wangji, his fellow disciples even encourage it leading to... Jiang Cheng sulking even further over the fact that Wei Wuxian is in fact pining over another boy. He puts two and two together as Wei Wuxian is flirting with the girls on shore later on and he talks of the things he will do with Lan Wangji as he visits. He talked of training with Lan Wangji in the same way he invited the girls to watch him train.

Phoenix Mountain Hunt

Lan WangJi suddenly raised his hand, stopping a flower tossed over from behind him.

He looked back. Over at the side of the YunmengJiang Sect’s riding formation, which hadn’t departed yet, Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue impatiently, seated at the front. However, the person beside him sat on a horse with black, gleaming hair. His elbow was at the head of the horse as he looked to the side as though nothing happened, talking and laughing with two slender-bodied maidens.

Lan XiChen saw that Lan WangJi had drawn the reins and ceased to move forward, “WangJi, what happened?”

Lan WangJi, “Wei Ying.”

Wei WuXian finally turned around, face full of surprise, “What? HanGuang-Jun, did you call me? What’s up?”

Holding the flower, Lan WangJi seemed to be quite cold. His tone seemed cold as well, “Was it you?”

Wei WuXian immediately denied it, “No, it wasn’t.”

The maidens beside him spoke at once, “Don’t believe him. It was him!”

Wei WuXian, “How could you treat a good person like this? I’m getting angry!”

Giggling, the maidens pulled their reins and went to the formations of their own sects. Lan WangJi lowered the hand that he held the flower with and shook his head. Jiang Cheng spoke, “ZeWu-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, apologies. Don’t pay attention to him.”

Lan XiChen smiled, “That is fine. I will thank Young Master Wei’s kindness behind the flower in place of WangJi.”

When they slowly rode into the distance, carrying with them the clouds of petals and fragrance, Jiang Cheng glanced at the colourful sea of handkerchiefs waving on the watching towers before turning to Wei WuXian, “Why are you throwing out flowers along with the girls?”

Wei WuXian, “I think he looks nice. Can’t I throw a few as well?”

Jiang Cheng pointed his nose into the air, “How old are you? Who do you think you are, still playing tricks like that?”

Interestingly enough, this flower scene is similar to what had once occurred during the summer of Lotus Pier. This is after it had been established that Wei Wuxian thinks Lan Wangji now dislikes him morally. Yet he still reaches out to tease and flirt with him, leading Jiang Cheng to continue asking why well into their early 20's is Wei Wuxian still doing this. It was excusable when they were younger but now this is inexcusable and troublesome for someone who is supposed to be his righthand acting on whims still and flirting with a man of reputation. Jiang Cheng actively had encouraged the rift between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji after the return from the Burial Mounds. He agreed very readily that Lan Wangji wanted to imprison Wei Wuxian instead of extending any help in regards to Wei Wuxian's volatile disposition that went on for years after this altercation, convincing himself and Wei Wuxian of Lan Wangji's supposed hate.

Wei WuXian was in such a state of distress that he couldn’t remember whether or not he called someone’s name at all. He only managed to pull himself together after Jiang Cheng commanded the dog to back away. After a moment of hesitation, he abruptly turned his head away. On the other side, Jiang Cheng left his seat. There was a whip attached beside his waist. With one hand on it, he bent down to look at Wei WuXian’s face. After a pause, he straightened up and asked, “Speaking of it, since when have you been so close to Lan WangJi?”

Wei WuXian immediately understood whose name he had unconsciously called out.

Jiang Cheng smiled menacingly, “It really is quite curious how far he went to protect you, back on Dafan Mountain.”

A moment later, he corrected himself, “No. You weren’t necessarily the one whom Lan WangJi was protecting. After all, the GusuLan Sect couldn’t have forgotten what you did with that loyal dog of yours. How could someone so celebrated for his righteousness tolerate the likes of you? Maybe he’s familiar with this body that you stole instead.”

His words were cruel and sinister. Every sentence seemed well-meaning on the surface, but was actually derogatory. Wei WuXian couldn’t bear hearing it any longer, “Watch your language.”

Thirteen years later his taunts have become more refined as he is well off into hating Lan Wangji himself now that Wei Wuxian had been dead. He taunts that Lan Wangji is more promiscuous than presented as well as using Wei Wuxian's old goodwill for Lan Wangji for him to go on the defense. Jiang Cheng however thinks using the fact these men are gay is only a tool, he does not believe they are as his disgust of Mo Xuanyu being gay does disgust him. His suspicions have turned into bigotry instead finally in the years that Wei Wuxian was gone.

When Jiang Cheng accused him, Wei WuXian couldn’t defend himself at all, but he just couldn’t bear it when those words were being directed at Lan WangJi.

Wei WuXian reprimanded, “Jiang Cheng, just listen to yourself. What are you saying? Is it appropriate? Don’t forget who you are. After all, you’re the leader of a sect. Insulting a renowned cultivator in front of Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu’s spirits—where is your discipline?”

His original intention was to remind Jiang Cheng to at least hold some respect for Lan WangJi. However, Jiang Cheng was always sensitive. From those words, he managed to make out the notion that he wasn’t fit to be a sect leader. Immediately, darkness crawled up his face, bearing an eerie similarity to how Madam Yu looked when she was angry. His voice was harsh, “Who is the one insulting my parents in front of their spirits?! Could you two please understand whose sect you’re in? I don’t care if you act so shamelessly outside, but don’t you dare fool around inside our ancestral hall, before my parents’ spirits! After all, they were the ones who brought you up—even I feel ashamed for you!”

Wei WuXian never expected such a huge blow to crash down on him. He was both shocked and furious, blurting, “Shut up!”

Jiang Cheng pointed outside, “Mess around outside however you want, whether under a tree or on a boat, hugging or otherwise! Get out of my sect, get away from anywhere my eyes can see!”

Hearing him mention ‘under a tree’, Wei WuXian felt his heart skip a beat—could Jiang Cheng have seen the moment where he crashed into Lan WangJi’s arms?

His guess was not wrong. Jiang Cheng did indeed go out to find Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. He chased after them in the direction that the street vendors pointed at. A voice in his heart seemed to tell him which places Wei WuXian would definitely go. He caught up to them in just a while. Yet, he just so happened to see Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi enveloped in a tight embrace under a tree, unwilling to let go of each other even after so long.

Goosebumps immediately ran down Jiang Cheng’s body.

Although he’d made guesses at the relationship between Mo XuanYu and Lan WangJi before, they were only attacks trying to offend Wei WuXian, not that he really suspected anything. He’d never thought that Wei WuXian would have ambiguous ties with a man, because after all, when they grew up together, Wei WuXian had never expressed any such interest. He’d always loved good-looking girls with a passion. On the other hand, it was even more impossible for Lan WangJi. He was famous for his asceticism, seemingly interested in neither men nor women.

But hugging like that seemed intense no matter what. At least, they didn’t seem like normal friends or brothers. He immediately recalled that Wei WuXian had always stuck to Lan WangJi ever since he came back. Lan WangJi’s attitude towards him was also different from what it was before he was reborn. At once, he was almost certain that the two really were in that kind of relationship. He couldn’t turn around and leave, yet he didn’t want to say a single word to the two, so he continued to hide himself as he followed them. Every single look and movement that passed between them seemed different in his eyes. For a while, the shock, absurdity, and slight disgust that he felt combined to overpower his hatred. It was only after Wei WuXian brought Lan WangJi into the ancestral hall that the long-suppressed hatred was awakened again, devouring his courtesy and rationality.

Wei WuXian was holding something back, “Jiang WanYin, you… apologize right now.”

Jiang Cheng mocked, “Apologize? For what? For exposing your thing for each other?”

Wei WuXian raged, “HanGuang-Jun is only my friend—what do you think we are?! I warn you. Apologize right now—don’t make me beat you!”

Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s expression froze for an instant. Jiang Cheng laughed, “Well, then I’ve never seen “friends” like that before? You warn me? Warn me against what? If you two had the slightest trace of integrity left, you wouldn’t have come here and…”

Seeing the change in Lan WangJi’s expression, Wei WuXian thought he must have felt insulted by Jiang Cheng’s words. He was so angry that his entire body was shaking. He didn’t dare think about what Lan WangJi would think after being shamed like this.

Obviously in the penultimate scene Jiang Cheng himself is being "the unreliable narrator" that fans love to accuse Wei Wuxian of. He says he never expected this of the two, but all the years of his behavior shows that he had always gone out of his way to keep the two away from each other and had always been mildly homophobic when the two did express interest in the other however innocent it had been in their youth.

All of this is to say, when it comes to how MXTX worded that interview answer, I think it was meant as a careful nudge for those who had still tried to insist that Jiang Cheng didn't mean to be homophobic, actually wasn't homophobic and was just angry at any other actions of Wei Wuxian and lashing out about that etc, it was her telling people to simply pay attention to the underlying shadowing of Jiang Cheng and how he exasperated his own pre-existing biases that morphed into an uglier hate.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #anti jiang cheng #but not really cause i love him #Jiang Cheng's canon homophobia #so so long I am so sorry this turned into a massive breakdown of your one question #but that's what happens with a day off lol #don't mind me #asks

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years ago

Text

Indigo--Calum Hood [one]

A/N: I can’t believe it’s finally arrived! Thank you all for being so patient while it took me literally two months to write this fic. It’s my first ever slow burn and the longest fic to date (word wise). This means so much to me and I really put my heart and soul into this. This is also written in Calum’s perspective!

Word count: 12.2k (36k total)

Warnings: themes of emotional infidelity but really all internal with no actions, confusing emotions and thoughts, nudity, slight mention of body image issues, casual drinking, jealousy, sexual situations

Masterlist

Indigo playlist--really just songs that helped inspire this piece so give it a listen if you’d like!

Feedback is always welcome and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this!

This is split in three parts because Tumblr's new post limit I can't fit it all in one post. So I'll be posting them all at once!

Enjoy!

***

Calum agreed to help out Sarah and Andy with their latest project. He wasn’t quite sure what it was exactly but anything they create is phenomenal and he’s ecstatic to be a part of it. He’d just texted Bianca, his girlfriend, that he’ll be gone for a better part of the afternoon when he arrives at Sarah and Andy’s place. Pebbles greets him at the door, her whole body wiggling with excitement by his presence.

“There’s our man!” Sarah chirps from the table, her camera and other gadgets placed on the table.

“We aren’t shooting here?” Calum asks bending down to pet Pebbles.

“No, there’s this meadow that gets the sun’s rays perfectly at this time,” Andy informs walking in with his own camera bag. “We’re meeting someone else there, too so we should get going.”

“Someone else?”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

The sun is beating down on Calum’s back as he walks through the tall grass behind Sarah and Andy. They’re a good distance away from the road and he hopes they won’t go too much further and land in the fate of a 90’s horror film. Andy and Sarah are talking quietly with each other and Calum checks his phone, no new messages from Bianca.

“All right, we’ll start setting up and you just sit and relax until she gets here,” Andy directs to Calum when they stop at a fallen tree that has moss growing on it and its roots extending to the sky.

“Who is ‘she’?” Calum asks, taking a seat on the tree. He wipes at the back of his neck, it’s sticky with sweat. His lips are starting to get chapped and he wishes he brought his water bottle.

Andy and Sarah exchange a look.

“She’d prefer to be anonymous so I can’t tell you,” She responds ominously and unzips her camera bag.

“Anonymous?” Calum is baffled. Andy and Sarah make a point to avoid the topic as they continue to gather their equipment.

In about ten minutes there was another figure walking through the grass and Calum peered at her trying to get a good look. Her hair was blowing in the slight breeze and bangs framed her face. Calum was intrigued when she was first mentioned.

Watching her walk towards them made him think of those snapshots in your life that sticks with you. Something inside of him told him this would be one of those moments.

She was short, which was the first thing he noticed when she stopped in front of him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. Traffic, y’know,” she smiles at Andy and Sarah.

He notices there’s a hint of purple in her hair.

She’s short and has purple hair.

“No problem, sweetie. We were just getting things ready. This is Calum,” Sarah nods towards him and the mystery girl turns in his direction too.

“Hi Calum, thanks for helping,” she smiles.

“No problem, Anonymous,” he grins standing from his tree and holds out his hand.

“Oh, right,” she snickers, stepping forward to take his hand. “You can call me Indie.”

She’s short, has purple hair, and likes to be called Indie.

“Nice to meet you Indie.”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Andy and Sarah first have Calum and Indie sit next to each other on the tree while they take some sample shots. This way Calum and Indie can get to know each other a little better. Calum notices the ink on her wrists, arms, and a nose piercing. She asked about his music and what inspires him. He asked what she does and she very offhandedly said with a shrug,

“Social media stuff.”

And that was the end of that. She didn’t add anything more and Calum wasn’t sure if he should ask for her to clarify but her statement had a tone of finality to it.

She definitely intrigues Calum.

“Okay, Indie, can you swing your leg over the tree like you’re riding a horse and lean on Calum’s shoulder?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah.”

Indie does as she’s directed then rests her arm on Calum’s shoulder, her head dropping on top of her arm.

“Both of you look at me...good, now Cal, look down at Indie...good, good. Okay, now I want you to put your leg over his...close your eyes for me, babe. That’s it! Beautiful.”

They continue with different poses on the tree and each touch Indie gives to Calum makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His body becomes attuned to her touch until Sarah tells Indie to undo her shirt and lay her head on Calum’s lap.

Calum swallows thickly and watches Indie undo the buttons. He looks away quickly wanting to give her privacy and instead looks towards the direction of the road hoping they’re far enough away from peering eyes.

“Now lie across his lap and let the shirt fall over his legs. Yup, Cal... Calum!”

“Huh?” Cal whips his head forward and feels the weight of Indie’s head on his knees. He’s forcing himself to not look down but his body is aware of her weight on him.

He knows this is all a form of art, but he just met the girl and he was unaware this is how the shoot was going to go. He’s posed shirtless for Andy and Sarah multiple times but never with someone else. And never with a girl with purple hair, a gentle voice, and a pen name.

“Lay your arm over her chest.”

“What? Is that okay?” he looks down to Indie’s eyes, they’re a striking deep blue. Like the deepest part of the ocean and he gets a little lost in them. “Is that okay that I do that?” he asks her this time.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she nods with a smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Calum carefully places his arm across Indie’s exposed chest; he notices how warm her skin already is from the sun but also feels the small poke of her nipples on the softest part of his arm.

“Cover her nipples a bit, Cal, she’s going to post these on her Instagram and you know their dumbass guidelines about breasts,” Sarah rolls her eyes adjusting her camera.

Calum adjusts his arm which means he has to look where her nipples are. He knows the human body is art in its natural form, and he admires the female body so why is he nervous? Is it because they literally just met and her top is open?

He curses himself. It’s not like they’re making an adult film or anything, this is an artistic moment. Shit, why did he think of an adult film because now a million different scenarios flash in his mind. While he places his arm across her chest, he sees some more ink below her breasts but he can’t quite make out the design.

“Indie, put your hands on his arm, spread your fingers…”

Calum hears the rapid shutter speed of her camera as she captures the intimate moment between strangers. Calum wonders why he was chosen to do this. Obviously, Michael wasn’t at the top of the list because he and Crystal are married, and Luke and Sierra just announced their engagement. KayKay is no novice in front of the camera, but maybe they wanted a girl and guy? Usually, Ashton is up for anything involving the human body.

“Cal, you have your thinking face on, man. Relax,” Andy says.

“Don’t be nervous,” Indie whispers gazing up at him.

Those damn blue eyes again. The purple in her hair really makes them pop and he notices a small freckle at the corner of her eye.

“You’re not?” his voice is hushed so Andy and Sarah don’t hear.

“Of course, I am, this is way out of my comfort zone. But this is art, and I want to explore it,” she shrugs.

It eased him that she was nervous as well. He took a deep breath and fixed her bangs in her face.

“That’s good, that’s really good, act natural,” Sarah advises.

“I like the purple,” he compliments, “it really comes out in the sun and makes your eyes stand out.”

“Thank you. I can’t really see your face because of the sun,” she squints up at him and giggles. Calum smiles at the sound.

The session continues and eventually Calum removes his shirt as well which he’s thankful for because he was starting to sweat. He told himself it was because the sun is at its hottest spot in the sky, not because of some cute girl with purple hair and tattoos with her shirt open.

He leans forward on his knees with Indie standing behind him and the tree, her chest pressed to his back and her hands locked under his neck. He wonders if she can hear how loud his heart is beating.

Another pose has him sitting in the grass with her legs hanging over his shoulders. Calum tickles her toes and she squeals out in laughter and Calum knows those will be great shots.

“Hey! Tickling is forbidden!” she laughs. “I will kick you and it will be your fault.”

“You won’t kick me,” he shakes his head but stops tickling her then notices another tattoo on the outside of her ankle. He looks to his right and sees a small red train on the inside of that ankle. “You have a lot of tattoos. What does this one mean?”

His finger traces the red outline of the train and the small speckle of stars shooting from the chimney.

“I loved Thomas the train engine.”

Calum looks up at her not believing her for a second. From this angle he forgets what his smart-ass remark was going to be because her naked midriff distracted him greatly. The ends of her hair tickled over her nipples, her bangs framing her face perfectly.

She gives him a radiant smile that he can’t deny by returning one of his own.

“All right, that’s it for this spot. Ready to head out Indie?” Sarah asks, pulling them from their small moment of connection.

“Yeah, I’m starved,” Indie buttons up her top.

“Want to come, Cal? We’re getting pizza at Marco’s,” Andy says.

“Uh, let me check my phone quickly, hang on,” he pulls out his phone then slips his shirt back on over his head. One notification from Bianca and she just gave his text to her a thumbs up. “Yeah, pizza sounds great.”

He walks next to Indie back to their cars.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

“How would you guys feel about doing a night shoot back at our place? The city lights in the skyline would be perfect,” Sarah says when she finishes off the last piece of pizza.

“I’m down for that. Can it be partially nude?” Indie asks, sucking up the last of her root beer from the vintage red cup.

“Absolutely,” Sarah nods.

“What do you say, Calum?” Indie looks up to Calum and he feels like she’s challenging him.

“I’m in,” he nods. He’s always up for a challenge.

The night shoot is out on Sarah and Andy’s balcony. Calum watches Sarah and Indie first from the doorway. Indie has her top open again leaning against the railing. She stretches her arms up above her head, extending her torso and Calum can get a better glimpse of that tattoo below her breasts.

It looks like celestial with moons and stars. As the photos progress, she slips it all the way off and leans over the railing. She does a profile view then reaches her hand out to Sarah’s camera for a close up of her fingers. The two women are giggling and Calum won’t deny how natural and confident Indie is in front of the camera even though she admitted to being nervous to him earlier.

Was she telling him the truth or was she just doing that to keep up this anonymous persona?

“Sarah has a way of making people feel comfortable in front of the camera. It’s her loving nature,” Andy explains as if reading Calum’s mind. “This is all Indie’s idea by the way, the shoot. She wants to do a body positivity session.”

“That’s…” Calum watches with wide eyes as Indie drops her shorts and panties then he sees her cute little bare ass. “Nice.” He clears his throat since she’s completely bare. Andy chuckles and nudges him in the ribs.

Calum is suddenly in the need of a cigarette; his fingers begin to twitch.

He watches her as she and Sarah continue to interact. Indie keeps her backside facing Sarah and Calum spots yet another tattoo on the back of her shoulder. Why’d she choose him to be a part of it? Or was it Andy and Sarah who chose him?

Calum opens his mouth to ask when Sarah calls him over.

“Get your ass out here, Hood, it’s your turn. Sit in the chair,” Sarah commands, pulling up said chair right in front of Indie.

Calum keeps his gaze on Indie’s face when he sits in the chair in front of her, his head seems a bit clearer now without her naked body in front of him.

“Shirt off?” he jokes, trying to ease his own tension.

“Please,” Sarah grins and he peels it off again. Of course, she’d say yes. “Baby, can you get the lights for me?”

The outside lights shut off by Andy and replaced by color changing string lights hanging in the rafters. Calum stares up above as they transition from green to yellow to orange and finally to some sort of purple/blue hybrid. Indie’s face comes into view over his shoulder, her fingers dance on his shoulders, her eyes are shining, and her hair is more purple with the added hue.

“Magical,” Sarah comments.

Indie smiles at him and he couldn’t agree more with Sarah’s statement and a few notes of a soft melody sprout in his head.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum stayed up all night going through Indie’s Instagram. He thought it would show her real name and he’ll deny to his dying breath that he did NOT spend an hour trying to find her profile. Turns out, her social media persona is displayed as Indie too and he wonders why.

Her posts are all about body positivity which include photos of her body that look professionally done in his opinion. Each pose is perfectly posed so you can’t really see everything but know that she’s fully naked. He tries to make out the tattoos he couldn’t see from the night before, but it’s hard with how her body twists and the way they’re edited.

He reads through some of the comments, agreeing with the ones telling how hot and gorgeous she is. He wanted to tell off the creeps and defend her because her message was about loving your body.

Her photos and posts are real and authentic. She talks about her own insecurities, how learning to love her body seems to be an ongoing lesson. He admires her rawness and understands seeing something different when you look in the mirror but when he sees her...he wonders how she can see flaws.

His phone rings right after he hits ‘follow’ and the noise scares him. His heart plummeted when he saw it was Bianca.

“Hey, babe,” he greets and she immediately rattles off about her day.

Calum puts her on speaker so he can continue to scroll through the photos of him and Indie she posted from their shoot. There are comments from some fans inquiring if he and Bianca broke up.

Bianca didn’t really say anything about his photoshoot, but she doesn’t really say much about what he does anyway.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

The guys are taking a little creative break after bouncing back chords, verses, and beats that they’ve been working on since six in the morning. Ashton was complaining about needing his fifth cup of iced coffee and Michael was starving so the two of them left to pick up lunch and coffee.

Luke and Calum remained behind like always. Luke never stopped working and Calum always kept him company, enjoying the sounds of his soft guitar playing. Ashton’s lava lamp changes to purple and Calum is reminded of Indie so he pulls out his phone and goes to her Instagram.

She’s made a few new posts within the last several days. The first one is of her standing in front of her bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around her. Her eyes are wide and bright, her hair is in wet strands and the steam frames her reflection. The next one is darker with the towel dropped; two small black hearts are placed on her breasts.

She captioned it: “conversations with myself about loving me are the hardest conversations I have. Sometimes they’re serious and other times goofy, but that’s with the aid of rum. Being gentle with yourself seems so easy until you come face to face.”

The second most recent post is of her and another guy at some sort of festival. They both have on circular sunglasses and the photos are a little blurry. One is a close up of the guy but he’s out of focus and eating a corn dog. The next one is of the two of them standing in front of a funhouse mirror; she has her fingers up in a peace sign. There’s one of them eating cotton candy and the last is of them on the Ferris wheel.

She just captions it as ‘memories.’

The last one she posted was from several hours ago and it was another photo shoot. She was posed with the same guy from the festival only this time she was topless and his arms were around her in front of a mirror. Another one has her lying on a bed with her head hanging off the edge and she’s upside down. The guy is resting his head on her stomach, both of them are looking at the camera and he’s shirtless too. The last one is of her twisted on the bed under the sheets, her ass peeking out and she’s spread across the guy. His hand is very low on her back.

Calum feels a pang in his chest. The pictures are great and all but why is he feeling this sharp pain and warmth in his cheeks?

“Woah, are you on OnlyFans right now?” Luke snorts and Calum jumps from the sound of his voice.

“What?”

“Pretty raunchy, don’t ya think?” Luke grins and then something clicks within Calum.

Could Indie have an OnlyFans account? Is that what she meant by “social media stuff”? He knows it’s one of the most popular adult content websites right now and that pay is really good if you post a lot. Is Indie her...sex name? Is that what that’s called?

“D’you think she has an OnlyFans?”

“I dunno. Who is she?” Luke stops his guitar playing to look at Calum.

“I...I uh did a shoot with her, Andy, and Sarah a few weeks ago.”

“Really? What did you do?”

Calum brings up the session he and Indie did together, handing his phone over to Luke. He suddenly feels very self-conscious and almost wants to snatch his phone back so Luke doesn’t see Indie bare chested. But she posted it on her public Instagram so anyone can see it.

“Wow, you really did a nude shoot?”

“We had our pants on,” Calum scoffs, trying to take his phone back but Luke stretches his arm out of his grasp.

“She doesn’t in these next ones.”

“Give me my phone!” Calum scrambles over Luke’s broad frame to get his phone back. He settles back on the couch in a huff. “Don’t look at those.”

“You showed it to me! Who is she anyway?”

“I don’t really know. She goes by the name Indie but I don’t think that’s her real name.”

“What do you mean?”

“When we arrived at the meadow for the shoot, Andy said we were meeting someone else there and when I asked who it was; Sarah said she wanted to be anonymous. She posts a lot about body positivity and I asked what she does for a living and all she said was social media stuff.”

“OnlyFans is social media. What did Bianca have to say about these photos?”

“Not much,” Calum shrugs and he gets a Twitter notification from her. Does she have a sixth sense to post or call when he’s talking about her?

He opens up the notification and she’s talking about him but very vaguely by only calling him ‘boyfriend’ with a photo attached of him looking down at his phone while they were out to dinner the other night. She brags about him online but hardly does anything with him when they are together. He’s starting to forget why he’s dating her in the first place.

“She had nothing to say about you posing topless with another woman?” Luke’s guitar playing stops and his eyebrows are raised.

“Nope,” Calum sighs and likes Bianca’s post anyway. Their relationship seems to only be about ‘liking’ each other’s posts lately.

“That’s...odd. So, why’re you looking at this girl Indie’s insta anyway?”

“I like what she posts. It’s real and true and a lot of people relate to it. It’s nice,” Calum shrugs. “And she was cool to hang out with at the photo session.”

“Ah, I see. You’re jealous you aren’t in those photos with her.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Yeah you are, and you didn’t want me to see her naked bum.”

“How would Sierra feel about that?”

“She’d look with me,” Luke shrugs, “you know that. See if she tagged the guy and find out who he is. If he has an OnlyFans then there’s a possibility she might have one, too.”

“How does that make sense?” Calum asks but clicks on the tagged name anyway because he’s not thinking properly and his curiosity is getting the best of him.

“They promote new content with whoever they did it with.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Saw it on TikTok, and there was that rumor that Ash has an OnlyFans so I Googled about it.”

“That’s a weird thing to Google.”

“Please, you’ve Googled worse. So, who is the bloke?” Luke peers over his best friend’s hand to look at his phone screen.

Calum looks back down at his phone on the new profile. He has quite a massive following and a small bio.

“His name is Ian, he’s a model and an extra in TV shows. There’s a link under his name but he posted photos with her, too.”

Calum taps on the post to see it’s of them in that damn bed again. Indie is straddling him but she has on some sort of lace outfit and Ian’s hands are on her waist. They’re both laughing and facing the camera.

“He wrote ‘always a blast doing sessions with you.’ Does that mean photo sessions or OnlyFans stuff?”

“How am I supposed to know? Why does it concern you anyway?”

That stops Calum short. Why does it concern him? His mind is spiraling with his conflicting emotions and the desire to search for more information about this Ian guy. He tosses his phone on the opposite end of the couch.

“It doesn’t concern me. I was curious and now I know you and Sierra subscribe to OnlyFans.”

“What? I didn’t say that at all!” Luke squeaks then narrows his eyes. “Don’t change the subject. Why does it matter if she has one or not?”

“I want to understand her, she didn’t tell me much about her and I’m not sure why.”

“She probably wants to keep her life private. Does she have a big following for what she posts?”

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe she doesn’t want people knowing her business. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Of course, I can, I--she intrigues me, that’s all. I want to know more about her.”

“Why do you want to know more about her?”

“I don’t know! She...her purple hair and nose ring and tattoos...and her eyes are so damn blue. I don’t understand it.”

Luke is silent for several moments staring at Calum, his blue eyes imploring his friend to tell more. Luke‘s looking at Calum as if he knows something.

Calum is lost in his confusion. Luke moves from the couch and picks up Calum’s notebook and his favorite type of pen. He holds them out to Calum.

“Write about it. Figure it out.”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum tried to write about it and figure it out and he was a little ashamed of himself for searching for Indie on OnlyFans a few days later after talking with Luke. It made him feel pervy, and even though he didn’t find her, it wouldn’t have changed his outlook on her at all if she did have an account. It only makes him want to learn more about her and not the small number of half-truths he received.

It’s been a month since he saw her and he’s at a party with Roy and Bianca. Bianca was off with her friends so Calum and Roy were left to their own devices which were perfectly fine for Calum. He’s always up for a good time but only when it’s with his close friends who are more like family, not a hundred people who sneak photos of him when they walk by.

He’s scanning the crowd--people watching is his favorite thing to do--when he spots someone with purple hair walk by.

“Indie! Hey!” Roy literally took the words right from Calum’s mouth.

Roy knows Indie?

Indie turns at the sound of her name waiting for her friend to pass and she smiles upon seeing Roy then shows her teeth in a radiant smile when she sees Calum right next to him. She’s got on some overall shorts with one of the straps unbuttoned and a tight black shirt that stops at her midriff. There’s some glitter on her face and Calum is mystified once more.

“Hey Cal, fancy seeing you here. Hey Roy,” she smiles at him and Roy pulls her into a hug. Calum feels a twinge of jealousy that he didn’t receive a hug.

“You two know each other?” Calum asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Indie comes to my meditation sessions once in a while. It’s been too long since the last one, missy.”

“I’ve been working!” she giggles shoving his shoulder playfully. “I’m in need of a good meditation zone, though. Oh, this is my friend, Travis.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Travis shakes Calum and Roy’s hands.

Calum eyes him up but before he can say anything else, Travis mentioned something about finding their group of friends.

“I’ll send you details on the next mediation,” Roy tells her before she heads out.

“I look forward to it. Have a nice time,” she smiles at them both and lets Travis guide her through the crowd.

Calum is a bit upset he didn’t really get to talk to her as he watches her disappear into the sea of people. He continues listening to Roy and his latest idea for a new album and what it will be based around. He hums and comments in the spaces he’s supposed to but his mind is off on someone else.

And then he wonders where the hell Bianca got off to.

“What’s wrong with you, man? Your mind is out of this world right now,” Roy comments.

“Nothing, nothing,” Calum shakes his head gruffly and then Bianca appears handing Calum a drink.

“You look parched,” she kisses his cheek and he feels the sticky residue of her lip gloss on his skin.

Calum continues to search for Indie as the night goes on, wanting to discuss how her body positivity project is going. He smiles and poses in the photos with Bianca; he knows both of their smiles are fake. Whenever she touches him, he doesn’t get that same feeling he did when Indie touched him in the meadow.

It’s a little after midnight as he exits the bathroom and bumps into someone.

“Oops, sorry, my faul--Indie! Hey!” he grins down at her.

“Oh! Hi again. Having a good time?” she asks brightly.

“It’s all right, how about you?”

“Not really in the mood to party tonight,” she shrugs, “but my friend Travis from earlier likes a guy here so I’m his wing woman.”

“What a good friend you are,” he smiles. “Have they met up?”

“I got a text from him with the tongue emoji, the fire emoji, and the drooling emoji,” she counts off on her fingers. “I’ve walked around this place twice so I’m assuming he’s all good,” she chuckles.

“So, you’re here all alone?”

“Yeah. I was just about to order an Uber--”

“I can take you home if you’d like. You shouldn’t take an Uber alone.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind--”

“Hey baby, some of the girls want to go to the club. I’ll see you later,” Bianca appears and gives Calum a very fleeting kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, before you go, this is Indie; remember how I did that photoshoot a month ago?”

Bianca glances at Indie who gives her a bright smile.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet--”

“Oh, yeah! Where you were both half naked! Very hot. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says offhandedly to Calum then runs off to her friends.

“Nice to meet you, too!” Indie finishes in a half-shout and Calum laughs. “She’s a woman on a mission, huh?”

“Yeah, always has to be where the party's at. How about that drive home?”

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Once in his car, Indie connects her phone to his Bluetooth and puts on her playlist along with the address of her apartment. Calum watches her scroll through her phone until she selects the first song; its vibe is very chill, fitting the mood of the blue color of his car’s interior lighting. He keeps glancing over to her; the blue really brings out the purple in her hair. She then pulls her hair back and up behind her head in a makeshift ponytail, fanning herself with the other hand.

“Hot?” he asks while pressing the button for the AC. she lets out a yelp of surprise when the cool air blows on her neck from the headrest of her seat.

“I need my seats to have this feature,” she sighs then lets her hair drop over her shoulder. “Thank you for taking me home. Will you meet up with...oh my God, what’s your girlfriend’s name?” she presses her hands to her face, eyes widening in horror. “She left before you could introduce her.”

“Her name’s Bianca, and no, I’ll probably go home. Club life isn’t really my style.”

“Are you hungry?” she asks.

“For what?” He peers at her curiously.

“Have you ever had insomnia cupcakes?”

When they arrive at the small cupcake shop they read over the flavors listed on the bulbous glass display case. The cupcakes are the size of muffins and each time Indie nudges closer to him, he can smell her perfume. It’s citrus with a hint of something else he can’t place but she smells wonderful.

Indie ends up getting a strawberry cupcake with white frosting and pink sprinkles and Calum gets a confetti one which she teases him about.

“What’s wrong with confetti?!” he laughs following her outside and sits at one of the round metal tables.

“It’s like the second most vanilla flavor you could get. Live on the edge!” she swipes off a bit of frosting and sucks it off with a low satisfied moan.

Her eyes close relishing then taste and Calum gets momentarily distracted by her reaction to the cupcake.

“Well, isn’t that vanilla frosting? Not too on the edge yourself, are ya?”

“It’s not vanilla. Here,” she holds her cupcake in front of him, her eyes testing him. “Try a taste.”

He swipes her frosting off, eyes still on hers and he pops his finger in his mouth. His tongue is full of a very zesty lemon flavor, it’s sugary and sweet but light enough where it’s not too overbearing.

“Shit, that’s good.”

“Told you! Now you enjoy your plain confetti over there,” she wiggles in her chair taking her cupcake back. She swipes up more frosting.

“You eat the frosting first?” he asks, unfolding the paper from his cupcake.

“Mhm, the cake is the best part.”

He watches her in wonder as she continues to eat before taking a very large bite of his own treat. Frosting gets on his nose and she loses it when he wipes it off.

“Did I get it all?” he asks, sucking off the frosting from his thumb.

“You missed a spot...right here!”

Somehow she snuck some frosting on her pinky finger and rubbed it onto his cheek and nose. Calum was dumbfounded then when he saw her practically rolling in her chair from laughing, he joined her and wiped it off on her own.

“Thanks for that,” he laughs, licking off the lemon frosting.

“I’m sorry, I had to,” she shrugs and licks off the rest of her frosting from her cupcake.

“I’m going to get you back for that, Indie. Mark my words.”

“I’m trembling in my overalls,” she mocks with a smile.

“You should be,” he teases and takes another large bite of his cupcake.

When their cupcakes are finished they’re back in his car and her music fills the air with sound. He makes note of the band on his screen, Linus Young, so he can look them up later. He turns it down on the song titled ‘Crystal Ball.’

“How’s your latest project coming along?” he asks then moves into the middle lane.

“Pretty good, I guess. I want to do a couple more shots before I do a post. Sarah said she’d help me with it, we just have to find the time.”

“Do you need a partner?” he grins.

“Not for these shots,” she giggles, “but you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like. I’m always open to other artists' creative eyes.”

“Yeah, I’d love to. Do you have an idea on what your next project will be?”

“Um, I don’t know. It’s always centered on self-love and body positivity. I might try something with body paint or shadows. There’s a--”

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” he blurts out then immediately wants the earth to swallow him up whole.

Where the hell did that come from? He wanted to try and ease into it casually but how do you casually bring up a website like that? And now he just blurted it out like an imbecile. He keeps his eyes on the road anticipating a well-deserved slap across his cheek or for Indie to demand he take the next exit and drop her off.

Instead, she laughs. It’s a full-on cackle with a trail of giggles gasping for breath. Indie doesn’t stop until he looks over at her in alarm and with an apologetic grimace.

“Oh, you’re serious?” she squeaks wiping at the corners of her eyes. She takes a deep breath, still chuckling. “Why do you think that?”

“I was showing my friend Luke the shoot we did and when I went to your Instagram he saw your other photos and asked if I was on OnlyFans and he said creators usually post photos like that with a partner they collaborated with or something and you said your job is social media stuff and that’s social media and I’m--I’m an asshole for blurting it out like that. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business but even if you are, that’s great, y’know? No shame or judgment from me whatsoever. And I feel stupid for even trying to search you--”

“You tried searching for me?” she asks but Calum’s on a ranting rampage. “Wow. I’m fl--”

“This makes me sound like a grade A creep. You--”

“Calum!” she laughs resting her hand on his forearm. The hair on his neck stands up at her touch just like in the meadow. “As entertaining as it is to see you stumble over your words and talk this much, stop. I’m flattered you would even think that in the first place, but no, I don’t have an account.”

He risks a glance at her; she gives him a warm smile.

“Do you have an account?” She asks in a hushed whisper.

“What?!” he swerves a little in his lane but thankfully he needs to change over for the exit. His GPS says Indie’s place is only a few more minutes away. “No, no I don’t have one.”

She giggles again but doesn’t say another word.

They’re silent for the remainder of the drive, the music playing softly in the background. He wishes he never said anything and that Luke didn’t bring it up in the first place. Calum makes the few turns indicated on his screen and then parks in front of a duplex. Indie unbuckles her seatbelt, angling herself towards him.

“Would you subscribe if I did?”

He jerks his head in her direction, did he hear her right? He opens his mouth to answer then narrows his eyes, she does the same and they have a narrow-eyed contest until they’re laughing.

“Would you subscribe if I did?” he counters.

“I asked you first.”

He unbuckles himself as well so he can stretch in his seat and run his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going to answer that. Can we pretend I never asked that and this conversation never happened?” He drops his hands to the steering wheel; he needs to have a firm handle on something because clearly his tongue is acting wild.

“What did you ask?”

“What?”

“What conversation are you talking about?”

Calum stares at her, then looks outside as if there’s a hidden camera and he’s being punk’d right now. Is Ashton Kutcher hiding in that trailer?

“We were talking about OnlyFans.”

“Calum! I was playing along! You didn’t ask me anything and we didn’t have a conversation about that unasked question,” she gives him a perky smile.

“You are something else, you know that?” he rubs at his face out of embarrassment and feeling like such an idiot.

“That’s what I’m told,” she sighs.

He feels there’s a story or two there but he’s already invaded her privacy enough tonight. And it’s only the second time actually meeting her.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks.

“Yes. Please do.”

“Why do you want to know what I do?”

Calum rests his head on his seat, turning his head towards her with his hands still on the wheel. She’s situated herself in her seat so that one leg is pulled to her chest and resting against the center console. Her round cheek is cupped in her hand, her eyes wide and captivating.

“I want to know more about you, that’s all.”

“Why do you want to know about me, Cal?”

That question again. The answer is staring him right in the face, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he just can’t bring himself to say it out loud. So, he alters his answer because he’s already rambled enough for one night.

“You have this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude and a free spirit. You’re sure of yourself and not a lot of people are like that.”

“I definitely do give a fuck about a lot of things. Maybe too much,” she shrugs, removing her hand and leans forward. “You’re sure that’s all?”

She doesn’t ask it in fishing for compliments type of way, it’s more like she knows he’s hiding something, like she knows he sugar-coated his answer. Indie’s eyes have him captured, he’s like a fly caught in a black widow’s web that’s made up of his own lies.

“Ye-es…” he responds slowly.

“You promise?”

Her eyes are steady on his, he squeezes the wheel, arms tightening, knuckles whitening, and the smallest flick of her eyebrow causes him to let out a large exhale. Calum drops his hands in defeat.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he shakes his head.

She’s looking at him like Luke was looking at him back in the studio.

“You’re…” he licks his lips and swallows down his nerves. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Indie. I’ve never been this lost in my head on finding the proper words to say what I want to say. But I can tell you that my intentions are only to get to know you, which I’m certain of.”

“Get to know me as a friend?”

“Friend, photoshoot partner, whatever it is,” he shrugs. “All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She gives him a small smile with an even smaller nod then takes a deep breath. Her hands rub at her temples as she lets out a frustrated groan covering her eyes with her hands.

“Are you okay?”

“You know that’s the truest thing you’ve said this whole time, Cal? I’d be glad to be your friend but I can’t lie about how I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

“So... what do we do about that?”

Indie removes her hands, her eyes the size of planets holding the same secrecy of the galaxy. He wants to explore every part, every hidden crevice.

“I want to know you, too. But we have to promise--” she holds out her pinky “--that we are friends first and foremost. I don’t trust people easily; I only tell what I think they should know. But my intuition is telling me to trust you and it’s never wrong. Can you do that?”

Calum mulls over her words. He reaches over the console so their faces are closer. He can see the glitter on her cheeks and how they resemble constellations. He cups her cheek; his fingers locking in her hair and captures her lips in a fevered kiss without a thought of the repercussions that will follow.

The kiss is full of sparks, desire, and an innate need. Indie kisses him back with equal hurriedness and soon they’re scrambling to the backseat. Lips still connected, her fingers claw at his shirt and--

“Cal?”

Calum blinks. He’s pulled back to the present, his fantasy betraying him in the worst possible way from the reality of Indie still holding her pinky out for him.

The kiss was all in his head. Going against his selfish desires, he hooks his pinky with hers and Indie’s face turns serious.

“We promise to always stay friends, no matter what. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“We promise that no matter what comes from the darkness, what secrets will surface, or whatever urges may arise, we are friends first and won’t let those things change that. Promise?”

“I promise,” he nods, tilting his head to the side in amusement as she continues.

“And above all else...we won’t leave or abandon one another. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I promise, too,” she stares at their joined pinkies.

“You okay?” he asks, feeling the shift within her.

“Yeah...it’s a little...I’m giving you all my trust. It’s a little scary.”

He squeezes her pinky then covers their joined hands with the palm of his other hand. He cocks his head lower until she looks at him with shining, vulnerable eyes.

“I promise I won’t break it, Indie.”

He wonders if she catches the double entendre to his promise because while he said it about her trust, he could tell she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve. He doesn’t want to break that either.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Calum has been walking on air ever since that night with Indie a few weeks ago promising to be friends. Is he attracted to her? Absolutely. That at least is something he can admit even if it is in his own head. Will he act on those thoughts? No, because he has respect for Indie and his relationship with Bianca.

Things between him and Bianca have gotten a little better; they go out more and she’s asked him about his music. When he’s mentioned he has this tune stuck in his head that he can’t figure out she doesn’t say too much about it and quickly transitions to her next appearance promoting a new line of liquor.

Calum’s confident he can push his attraction for Indie to the side and make their friendship a priority. He’s never had a female best friend before but it’s an easy transition with her.

After that night they exchanged numbers and were quick to start sending funny memes and TikTok videos. Calum downloaded the app solely because of her and when he discovered she had a few videos of her own, he watched the four videos relentlessly.

“You’re a very talented lip syncer, you should go pro,” he’d told her one day over FaceTime while he was making breakfast.

“There’s no such thing as a pro lip syncer,” she snorted back. She was applying makeup in her bathroom sitting cross legged on the counter with her feet in the sink.

“Yeah there’s that show on MTV or some shit where you dress up and put on a whole performance.”

“I would literally die if I had to perform in front of people. No thank you.”

Calum laughed then watched her apply her eyeliner with careful strokes and perfect precision. Whenever she did her makeup she had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and her bangs clipped up so she wouldn’t get makeup on them. Seeing her whole face for the first time filled him with even more intrigue and he thought she was even more beautiful.

“Why do you do that on the sink?” he asked, flipping his egg on his toast.

“So I can get closer to the mirror. It’s a girl thing. Doesn’t Bianca do it?”

“Dunno, I’ve never seen her put her makeup on before.”

He would send her photos and videos of Duke and each time she’d comment on how adorable he is and that she would steal him one day.

“You’ll have to get through me first,” he grinned.

“I can take you. It’s one of my superpowers.”

“What superpower is that exactly?”

“If I tell you then my cover’s blown, duh.”

“Why don’t you show me then?” he teased with a slight hint of flirtation.

“Cal…” she warned but couldn’t help her giggle.

“All right, all right,” he smiled, scratching at his head. “Sorry.”

There would be some innocent slip-ups like that throughout their conversations. Calum just felt so at ease with Indie and when she asked him to help her with a photoshoot of hers he was more than excited to accept.

When he arrived at her place, there was music playing from down the hall and he heard voices followed by Indie’s laugh. He follows the sound right into her bathroom where she is with another girl while the bathtub was running water, bubbles rising.

“Did you finally get your own dog?” he asks and the two girls turn at his voice.

“No, it’s for the photos,” Indie smiles. “Cal, this is Inka, she’s going to be in the photos with me and helping you take them.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Calum,” Inka smiles.

Inka’s a little taller than Indie with flowing ink black hair, wide set eyes and brown skin. She has a septum piercing and is also very good looking.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods, and then turns fearfully to Indie. “I’m taking the photos? Shouldn’t you ask Sarah, she’s a professional.”

“I don’t want them to look professionally done. Inka’s big on water photography so she’ll help you. And we need someone to take photos of us together.”

“All right, so…” he glances at the tub that Inka is now bent over testing the water. “What’s with the bubble bath?”

“That’s where we’ll be,” Indie grins, removing her shorts.

Calum is so caught off guard by being the photographer that his eyes watch her step out of them, but finds she has on swimsuit bottoms. At least he won’t be distracted this time like in the meadow or at Andy and Sarah’s when she was completely naked.

“Are you alright with us being topless, Cal?” Inka asks removing her own shorts. He spots some ink on her skin as well, he wonders if they got tattoos together at one point. The styles are pretty similar.

“I’m fine if you guys are,” he shrugs then eyes up the Polaroid sitting on the counter. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me here; I respect the artistry of the naked body.”

“All I needed to hear,” Inka says with a sigh. “The water’s perfect, Indsy. I’ll put on music that helps me get in the zone.”

“Is this the camera I’ll be using?” Calum asks, pointing to the Polaroid as Inka changes the music on her phone to something with a bit of soul to it. The voice echoes very softly within the bathroom.

“Yeah, it’s Inka’s. She’ll show you how to use it while I’m in there. Thanks for helping with this, everyone couldn’t or thought it was weird when I asked them.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” he smiles down at her, noticing she doesn’t have makeup on. “You look nice by the way.”

“Thank you. I’m going to take my top off now,” she touches his arm as if in assurance, her eyes widening slightly. “Will you be okay?”

He knows she’s teasing but he links his pinky with hers that’s on his arm.

“Promise. Now get in there,” he jerks his head towards her bath.

“Sheesh, you’re a demanding assistant.”

She backs away and he examines the camera with curiosity. When Inka and Indie converse behind him, he lifts his eyes to their reflection in the mirror just as Indie is pulling her t-shirt off. Her eyes meet his as she tosses it to the floor and it’s as if the moment slows before she’s stepping into the water.

“Inka! This is too hot!” she squeals, pulling her foot out.

“No, it’s not! Calum, come feel the water.”

He turns and stands next to Indie; he bends to the floor pressing his hand through a mountain of bubbles. It’s pretty warm but he’s come to realize that Indie doesn’t like hot things.

“I think it’s fine but it is too hot for her,” he agrees with Indie.

“Well, you’ll get used to it and if your cheeks get a little red or your chest, then it will make the pictures better.”

Indie sighs; she puts her hand on Calum’s shoulder for extra support and puts her foot in the water again. She lets out a hiss and stands there for a couple seconds. Calum grabs her hand and holds her fingers when she places her other foot in the tub as well. He watches her scrunch her face at the temperature, he can see a red splotch blooming on her chest already and she’s not even fully in yet.

“Darling, it’s really not that bad,” Inka sighs rubbing at Indie’s shoulder. “Is it?”

“I just need to let myself get used to it,” Indie replies and drops a knee, her fingers’ holding onto Calum’s tightly.

“I can get a cold washcloth for you,” he offers but Indie shakes her head and drops her other knee.

“I’ll be okay. Can you get me a bottled water from my fridge?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” he nods and he releases her fingers.

When he returns, Indie is fully in the bath, her hair cascading over her back like a dark purple curtain. Her knees are drawn up to her chest and Inka is on the floor with her camera pointed at Indie. Indie’s head is on her knees, her body curving forward, eyes big and her lips pouting slightly.

Calum doesn’t like how she looks sad even if he knows it’s for the aesthetics of it all. Indie looks up at him then stretches a now bubbly arm towards him for the water.

“Wait, stay like that for a minute!” Inka instructs Indie's pose and the camera clicks. “Okay, you can take it.”

Calum sits against the cabinets next to Inka, paying attention to the buttons on the camera before she takes a picture. Indie leans back with her head tilted back and eyes closed, her breasts pointing out. Then she rested her arms on the edge of the tub, her cheek falling perfectly in the crook of her elbows and she eyed up the camera and Inka. When she looked at Calum, he forgot how to swallow.

“Okay, ready for me?” Inka asks, standing up from her place on the floor.

“You’re going to complain about the water though,” Indie rolls her eyes playfully and turns the tap back on. She shifts to the opposite end so she doesn’t feel the hot water.

“Just take photos you think would be good as candid’s,” Inka instructs handing Calum the camera.

He’s nervous now. He doesn’t want to mess up their vision and he runs over what Inka told him in his head as she takes off her tank top and climbs in with Indie.

“This is so tepid!” Inka shrieks and Indie laughs.

“It’s perfect!”

“You’re such a little weirdo,” Inka drops into the water and pushes the running water towards Indie. Indie sticks her tongue out.

While the water continues to run, Calum takes some practice shots and Inka starts to pull her hair up in a very messy bun with loose strands kissing her cheeks and forehead. She looks very good, actually. Inka has a natural beauty to her, much like Indie does. Calum took photos of that process, Inka is confident in herself like Indie is; it’s all in her posture.

“Remember the first time we were in the bath together?” Indie asks, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, you were drunk and thought your tub was a whirlpool. But you turned the shower on instead and I thought you were drowning,” Inka laughs.

Calum captures their smiles. He remains silent as they place bubbles on each other’s noses or blow them at each other from their hands. He tries to take as many of those as he can because he thinks they’re charming.

He discovers they’ve been friends ever since Indie moved to L.A and have gone through tough things with each other like bad relationships, loss of jobs, and fallouts from a whole group of friends they were involved in. The more they talked, the closer they got in the tub.

“Here, turn around, I want to get some shots like this,” Indie tells Inka.

They’re in a fit of giggles and laughter as Inka maneuvers in the water, some of the bubbles are rolling down the sides of the tub. Once they’re situated, Indie scoots closer until she’s pressed against Inka’s back. Calum’s reminded of feeling her pressed against his back at Andy and Sarah’s.

“Look at Cal,” Indie says and they both turn to Calum.

He snaps the photo.

“How are you doing over there Mr. Camera Man?” Inka asks leaning against Indie.

“Great. How’re you guys?” he asks.

“Hungry. I want some pizza,” Indie sighs. She presses her cheek to Inka’s neck and wraps her arms around her stomach.

“We’ll order some afterwards,” Inka lifts her hand and pats at Indie’s head affectionately. “Does Calum know you need to be fed every few hours?”

“You make me sound like a baby,” Indie laughs. “Does Calum know?” She directs the question to him in third person, looking at him expectantly.

“Yes, I discovered she gets very feisty when she’s hungry,” Calum laughs.

“He’s a good egg,” Indie says and kisses Inka’s neck.

“Wait, do that again,” Calum says and Indie presses her lips to Inka’s neck. He snaps the picture and he grins. “That’s a good one.”

“Stay professional over there, sir,” Inka warns, narrowing her eyes.

“I am! It’s a sweet moment that’s all. You guys are close and have been through a lot. There aren’t too many friendships like that.”

“I always tell her she’s my soulmate,” Inka pats Indie's cheek then spins around again in the water.

“My friend Ash and I say the same thing.”

“You two take baths together, too?” Inka asks and Indie laughs.

“No,” he laughs. “We wouldn’t fit.”

That gets them both laughing and he snaps a picture of it, the pure joy and amusement on their faces. He notices goosebumps are on Indie’s arms.

“You’re getting cold, Indie,” he comments.

“Yeah, we should get out soon. Did you get some good photos?” she asks, sitting up a little straighter, her hands on the edge of the tub.

“Wait, Cal get one more picture,” Inka stops Indie from standing.

He poises the camera to his eye again and watches as Inka leans in and gives Indie a soft kiss on the lips. She holds the kiss so he can take the picture and he keeps snapping when they pull away and smile at each other.

They both rise from the tub with more water sloshing over the sides; all the bubbles are gone now. Calum stands handing them each a towel; he’s trying to wrap his head around that kiss. He kisses his friends too, but to see Indie be kissed by a girl made that pang form in his chest again like when she hugged Roy and not him.

He shouldn’t be jealous; they’re just friends and he pinky promised.

“I’ll order some pizza and upload these so we can look at them,” Inka says, wrapping the towel around her. She folds it over so it’s held to her body like a strapless dress. “Time to put your camera skills to the test.”

The photos ended up looking really well. He could tell the differences between his and Inka’s, hers were angled in different ways to make the focal point look cool. His photos were straighter on but Inka was impressed by some of his close-up shots of their laughter.

The three of them watched a movie as they ate their pizza, laughing at the scenes and more memories that came about for Indie and Inka. Calum really liked Inka and she gave him a hug when she left, promising she’ll contact him if she needs his help for her own photos.

“You have her approval by the way,” Indie says, moving back to the couch pulling her blanket over her legs.

“Approval?” He joins her resting his arm over the back of her couch.

“Of being my guy best friend. This was sort of a test of hers by having you deal with our shenanigans and being half naked in the tub.”

“Elaborate, please?” he chuckles. “Did she think I’d be weird about it?”

“She’s a little protective over me. We’re best friends but…” Indie looks at her hands in her lap; she starts to play with the edge of the blanket.

“But…?” he prompts and she bites her lip. “I feel like this is a pinky promise moment.”

“It is.”

He holds out his pinky waiting for her to link their fingers. She takes in a deep breath and hooks her pinky around his but she doesn’t let it go when she speaks. Her eyes are trained on their pinkies.

“Inka and I dated actually, for a short time. It was right when I moved out here and we got super close super-fast, I felt the most comfortable with her in the friend group I fell into. She’s the first one I voiced my attraction to women about and she said she was the same. We both don’t like labels. And... Yeah, we dated for a couple months but both agreed our friendship was more important than if we broke up badly.”

“So, you’re attracted to men and women or just women?” he asks softly.

“Both,” she says, her eyes still on their pinkies. “Inka’s the only woman I’ve dated and have been with but I’ve had other crushes. They just never went anywhere.”

“Hey, look at me,” he tugs on her pinky lightly until her eyes meet his. “Why do you seem scared?”

“When I tell other guys about it they get all weird and ask for threesomes or they get freaked out like I'm going to cheat on them with her or something. I’m attracted to girls but it’s more than attraction, too.”

“I get it,” he nods, “you don’t have to explain to me. You care for people for who they are. I’m sorry if you felt cautious to tell me. You can tell me anything, Indie.”

“It’s just nerve wracking, that’s all,” she lets out a shaky laugh. “I knew you wouldn’t be creepy with the photos but while we were doing them I figured this would be a good time to tell you.”

“Thank you for telling me, it helps me get to know you better,” he smiles. She gives him one back then pulls her pinky away so she can give him a hug.

He holds her tightly, feeling how fast her heart is beating. They didn't let go until her heart slowed down and matched his.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Every day at the studio, Luke would pester Calum asking when they would finally get to meet Indie. Not long after, Ashton and Michael would chime in as well about wanting to meet her and Calum would do his best to ignore them. But he knows his brothers and they’re persistent to the point where it will make you go mad if you don’t agree.

Today was more of a chill day tossing random lyrics and notes around trying to make it into a song. While the other three were goofing off, Calum was at the piano trying to work out the notes that have been swimming in his head for the last couple months. He has the first and last notes down pat but what is in the middle? He can’t figure it out.

“Hey, Cal,” Luke calls, “you should have a party tonight.”

“What for?”

“So, we can all hang out, drink, eat, meet Indie…”

Calum’s hands fall away from the keys and he twists around on the bench to see Luke smiling with all his teeth. He looks like that emoji with his teeth bared.

“Why do you want to meet her so badly?”

“She’s friends with you, we want to be friends with her as well,” Luke shrugs.

“Roy knows her, why can’t we?” Ashton adds.

“Yeah, is she even real at this point?” Michael chortles.

“Yes, she’s real,” Calum rolls his eyes. “How—”

His phone buzzes on the table.

“It’s Indie!” Luke exclaims trying to snatch up the phone.

Calum darts forward grabbing his phone before they can. Thankfully, it was just a text because he knew if he picked up the phone one of them would have found a way to speak with Indie and say something ridiculous.

“Stop acting like we’re twelve,” Calum shakes his head. “Two of you are married.”

“I’m engaged, actually,” Luke corrects, leaning back on the couch. He crosses his converse covered feet at the ankles. “What’d she want?”

Against his better judgment, Calum opens the message to see three photos and a text. They’re all the same photos just taken in different positions. It’s her naked body, from just below her breasts to the tops of her thighs. She’s poised in a way that you can’t see anything and it ranges from black and white, sepia, and the original photo.

‘Which one should I post?’ was the text sent.

“She sent me photos asking for help on which ones to pick for a post,” Calum says already typing away about how she should do all of them. Then he asks how her day’s going. He looks up at his friends and they’re giving him the same look of expectation. “Ugh, fine! If I invite her over you can’t be weird as shit like you are right now.”

They whoop and holler at that news.

“Finally, we get to meet the infamous Indie,” Luke sighs, resting his head on his hands. Calum throws a pillow right at his face.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

All of Calum’s friends are mingling in the backyard and kitchen area, conversation and laughter is heard over the low sound of the music playing. He’s ordered pizza and wings for everyone to enjoy and they should be delivered in about forty-five minutes. He’s been anxiously waiting for Indie to arrive but is also nervous about how the guys will act around her.

Bianca is out of town so she couldn’t make it and Calum wasn’t too sure what his feelings are about her not being here. She told him to have fun and not get too rowdy, so he appreciates that small sentiment.

Indie was excited to meet everyone else when he called her and when she asked if she could bring a friend, he assumed it was Inka so he of course said yes.

Boy was he ever wrong.

He was popping open another white claw when Andy and Sarah announced her name. He looks up in excitement to see her hugging Sarah but then it falters when he sees it’s not Inka that’s next to her. It’s that guy Ian from her Instagram posts that she posed with. The pang in his chest is back when Ian places his arm over Indie’s bare shoulders and shakes Andy and Sarah’s hand.

Calum takes notice of her outfit; she has on a dark blue top with the sleeves that only go to the tops of her arms and black jean shorts with some black boots. Her dark purple hair is pulled back behind her head in a sort of braid.

“Hey isn’t that—”

“Indie?” Calum finishes Luke’s sentence and takes a long drink of his white claw. “Yeah, let’s go introduce you.”

Ashton and Michael met them by Indie and she gave Calum a big smile.

“Hey! How’re you?” she asks rising on her tiptoes to give him a hug. Ian and Calum’s eyes meet briefly before Indie pulls away.

“I’m good, glad you could come,” Calum forces a smile. “Uh, these are the guys. It’s about time you all met. This is Luke, Ashton, and Michael. Guys, this is Indie.”

“So, you are a real person,” Ashton nods, shaking her hand.

“As opposed to what? A blow-up doll?” Indie teases and Michael chokes on his own drink.

Calum grins because he knows she’ll be able to handle herself around them. He just hopes they don’t say anything about him that would raise questions.

“I like you,” Ashton smiles. “Who’s this you brought along?”

“Oh! Right, sorry. This is Ian,” she introduces.

Calum eyes him up while he shakes his friends’ hands. He’s about the same height as Calum with short brown hair that kind of sticks up in the front. He’s got tan skin, an arm of tattoos, and has a lean muscular build.

“And this is Calum,” Indie introduces him last.

Calum notices she didn’t say ‘my friend’ or ‘my boyfriend’ when introducing Ian, so what is he exactly?

“Good to finally meet you, man,” Ian holds out his hand.

“Likewise,” Calum makes sure his grip is tight, but so is Ian’s. “Help yourselves to drinks from the coolers and kitchen. Pizza and wings should be coming soon.”

The pang in Calum’s chest only grows as the night progresses. He’s not quite sure what to make of Ian except that he and Indie are very comfortable with each other. When Calum is in ear shot they’re always flirting and touching each other.

“Sooo…” Luke drawls sidling next to Calum. “He’s that guy from her Instagram, right?”

“Yup.”

“Are he and Indie dating?”

“No idea,” Calum’s voice is clipped. He takes a drink of his white claw. The pang keeps getting sharper, his fingers are twitching for a cigarette and now he really wants some weed.

“Are you all right?”

Calum watches Ian come up behind Indie with another drink for her and he smacks her ass then proceeds to rub her back. Indie smiles up at him taking the cup.

“Yeah, I’m all right. We’re just friends,” Calum sighs.

When the party dwindled down, it was only Ashton, Michael, Luke, Andy, Sarah,Indie and Ian left sitting around the firepit. The conversation transitions from topic to topic that are mainly centered on Indie and finding out more about her. Just as Calum suspected, she’s very cryptic in her responses and that makes him smile. Calum’s sitting across the way from her and her legs are resting on Ian’s lap. Ian’s hands are rubbing at her calves.

Calum tells himself it doesn’t bother him.

Somehow the conversation turned to sex, which isn’t all that uncommon for their group but Calum was shooting daggers at Ashton because he didn’t want Indie to feel uncomfortable. As always, she surprised him and she was asking her own questions. Everyone answered her question of what their first time was like and they were all great stories of embarrassing moments.

When it came for her to answer, Calum sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“I was nineteen, wasn’t expecting it to happen at all. And you’re always told ‘oh, it’s this magical moment! You’ll be changed forever!’ but it literally lasted two or three minutes and I was like, ‘that’s it?’” she giggles. “I didn’t feel changed at all.”

“Two minutes?” Michael laughs. “Was it his first time too?”

“Hey, in my defense I’ve wanted to do it with her for a long time and when it finally happened…I lost control,” Ian smiles. “That tends to happen with Indie.”

Calum’s ears feel hot and it’s not from the fire. He ignores Luke’s quick glance to him from the bit of information that Ian was the first guy Indie had sex with.

“And we were also in your parent’s living room,” Indie giggles some more.

“All right, so now the next question…most rounds in one night?” Ashton asks lighting up another joint.

Calum wants to strangle him.

“What the hell is with all the sex talk, mate?” he finally asks trying to play it off as nonchalant, but the way Luke and Michael fidget, he knows it didn’t sound that way. No one else seems to notice, if Indie did he doesn’t know because he doesn’t dare look at her now.

“It’s a beautiful thing. It brings people closer by being open about it,” Ashton rests his ankle on his knee.

Calum snorts and shakes his head crossing his arms. He shakes his leg in annoyance.

Everyone says one or two rounds with little stories with each one. Michael made everyone laugh when he said one and a half.

“I was super drunk and it finally caught up with me and…yeah, I fell asleep,” Michael chortles. His eyes are heavy from drinking.

“That poor girl,” Andy says.

“I married her, so you know she’s the one,” Michael smiles.

“Where are Crystal and Sierra? I was looking forward to meeting them, too,” Indie says.

“They’re both at some fashion expo,” Luke explains. “We’ll all get together; they want to meet you too.”

Then fashion is the next topic of conversation until Ashton opens his mouth again. The weed must have set him off in a very inquisitive buzz.

“Indie, you didn’t answer the round's question.”

“I don’t want to be judged,” she holds up her hands in defense.

“This is a judgment free zone, this is a safe space, c’mon,” Ashton smiles lazily.

Indie looks at each person individually, except Calum before she answers.

“Three times,” she sighs, staring into the fire.

There’s a collective ‘woah’ around the group and sounds of approval. She tries to hide her smile but fails and ends up covering her face.

“Damn, that dude’s got stamina,” Michael says.

“It was a fun night,” Ian smirks while taking a drink of his beer. Indie smacks him in the shoulder and that earns even more of a reaction from the group.

They all want to know details and context, but Calum is seething. He really wants to get up and leave because he doesn’t want to hear anymore, but he knows that will cause more questions.

He remains silent for the rest of the night thinking about everything and questioning everything. He wants to know if Indie and Ian are dating and he wants to know why it matters to him so much. It really shouldn’t and that just makes him angrier.

He’s glad his friends are getting along with Indie, but he wishes it weren’t in this type of context.

When everyone had left, Calum was stuffing plates and cups in a large trash bag then he was going to light up a joint in hopes that would help calm his mind and rid his thoughts of seeing Ian and Indie together. He doesn’t even want to think about what they’re doing right now.

☆°•.¸☆¸.•°☆

Taglist: @calumance @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr-blog1 @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @Fobodob @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower @mymindwide @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @fivesecondsofonedirection @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @sebsbrokentoe @heartskippeddabat

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years ago

Note

Haii so i have a promot for you, it’s stuckony and it’s based around a carrie Underwood song called “ Renegade Runaway “

So basically Steve and Bucky are outlaw, who rob trains, banks, and gamble

Tony is a sharffes and teacher kid, who is also one hell of a gunslinger (like Doc holiday,bat masterson, and Wyatt earp), he’s also a blacksmith

Also happy early birthday! 💙

Thank you for the birthday wishes! This ended up being a lot sadder than I originally intended and I wasn't able to include everything, but I hope it still lives up to expectations!

As always, this fic is also on ao3

Tony has his pistol out almost before the door closes behind him. He peers into the darkness of the yard behind the smithy, silently complaining about his eyes taking too long to adjust from the bright fires to the gathering twilight. It puts him at a disadvantage for whoever is waiting out there for him.

“Aw darlin’, is that any way to greet your two favorite outlaws?” someone drawls.

Tony snorts and holsters the pistol again. “Two outlaws, you might be, but my favorites? Far from it,” he snarks.

Bucky Barnes steps into the light spilling out from the window, hand dramatically placed over his heart. “Tony, that cuts me to the quick. Really, the cruelty of your words, they break my heart.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, unimpressed. He turns his back on Bucky and locks the smithy door. Peter will leave through the front when he’s finished sweeping and extinguished the lights. Everything else is already stored in the backroom for the night, so there’s no reason he needs to worry about leaving the door unlocked, though he certainly could. Timely isn’t the sort of town that invites trouble, not like some of the lawless towns further west.

When he turns back around, Bucky has moved closer, nearly looming over him. Tony leans back against the door, letting Bucky press against him. Bucky will do it anyway, it’s easier to just give in to him now instead of putting up a fight they both know he doesn’t want.

“You gonna apologize for bein’ so mean?” Bucky breathes into his ear.

“No,” Tony says flatly, crossing his arms. “It’s the honest truth.”

It’s not. Nearly everyone in Timely knows Tony’s sweet on Bucky and his partner, who must be around here somewhere since Bucky mentioned both of them. But it wouldn’t do to be too easy for them. He’s not one of Natasha’s girls after all, giggly and flirtatious and willing to turn their skirts up for a little bit of coin. He likes to make his boys work to get him soft and smiling.

“Now that’s just an outright lie,” someone else says. Tony turns his head to see Steve’s bright blue eyes much closer than he’d expected given that he’d only sensed one of them in the yard earlier. “You love us.”

“Don’t,” Tony denies, turning his head in the other direction so he doesn’t have to see either of them. Steve may be right, Tony isn’t nearly as annoyed by them as he pretends, but loving the two of them makes his life so very hard that it’s easier to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for them.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony stubbornly refuses to look at them. These two outlaws waltz into town all too rarely, typically on the heels of some mess that’ll raise the rewards on their heads yet again, and turn Tony’s life upside down for the brief time they’re in Timely, only to break his heart when they inevitably leave. Sometimes, he wishes he’d never met them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers eventually, keeping his eyes fixed on the side of the saloon down the street. “The sheriff’s in town tonight. If he catches wind of you—you know Howard wants to be the one to bring you in.”

“Your father’s on a wild goose chase, honey,” Bucky says. “He got word we were hiding out in Howling Canyon.”

“Are you?”

“Do we look like we’re in Howling Canyon?” Steve asks amusedly.

“No. I meant when you’re not—” He stops, biting back the last few words. When they’re not in his bed, he means, but he can’t bring himself to say that. After an awkward pause, he finishes, “When you’re not in town.”

“No,” Steve assures him. “We’re staying—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Tony interrupts, finally turning back to look at them. They both look worried, and he wonders if they know how tired he is of this game they’ve been playing for five years. “You know I’ll have to tell Howard if he asks.”

Not that Howard would. The sheriff is one of the few people who doesn’t know that his son houses the two outlaws when they’re in Timely. He couldn’t even imagine that his son would dare defy him under his nose like that. But both Steve and Bucky know what happens when Tony doesn’t jump to Howard’s every order. They were the ones who took him to Dr. Banner’s after all, after Howard broke his arm for taking too long to finish the horseshoes for Jericho.

Steve’s eyes are stormy at the reminder of Howard’s wrath. Bucky’s mouth is set in a tight line. Neither of them approve of Howard. They’ve told Tony once before that they would take him away from here if only he would let them. But he won’t. There’s too much keeping him in Timely: his mother and Rhodey, even young Peter, who’s only been apprenticed to him for a few months. He can’t just go gallivanting off into the sunset, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides, he knows that the only reason they ask is so that he can get away from Howard. He doesn’t delude himself there. They’d let him go with them just out of range of Howard’s reach and then they’d cut him loose. It’s pity that makes them ask, not—not anything else.

“Just—” He sighs and ducks out from under Bucky’s arm. “Come on. Howard isn’t stupid. He’ll figure out you’re not in Howling Canyon eventually, and I’d like both your cocks at least once before he does.”

Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.

Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.

He’d been young—hardly even an adult—foolhardy, and unwilling to listen to Jarvis’ warnings that he wasn’t ready to take on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who’d been terrorizing the towns in their small territory for the last three years. He’d been so convinced that he would be the one to bring them in and collect on the bounty. He’d studied their movements, known how they thought, and when Timely had gotten word that the two outlaws had robbed a bank in Faircreek, he’d ridden off on his own toward Harshaw instead of Tombstone like all the evidence pointed to.

He’d been right; the trail to Tombstone had been a false one. But he hadn’t had long to rest on his laurels because he’d been noticed. Steve and Bucky hadn’t been as lax in their vigilance as he’d assumed and they’d lain in wait for him, ambushed him, and ultimately shot him.

To this day, he doesn’t know what drove the two outlaws to take him in instead of leaving him out there to die in the desert, but they had. They’d carefully nursed him back to health, taken care of him when his injury had led to fever, and eventually, after nearly two months together, brought him to their bed with sweet words and sweeter kisses. He’d thought he would have done anything for them after that night, but the next morning, they’d sent him back on his way to Timely with nothing more than a promise that they’d be dropping in to check on him. It had been kind, though the damage had already been done. Tony’s injury ensured he’d never be the gunslinger he’d once dreamt of and his heart had been shattered. He’d apprenticed with Happy, taken up blacksmithing as a trade, and moved out of his parents’ home and into a small house not far from the smithy as his bad leg kept him from walking any great distances.

And when Bucky and Steve had kept their promise and stopped by his house to see him, well, his resolve to send them packing had withered. He’d made sure no one had noticed them and welcomed them inside, his poor heart still beating against his ribs in the pattern of their names.

They love him, he thinks, or at least they love him as best as they can, which is to say they don’t love him as much as he loves them. They certainly don’t love him enough to take him with them. And he understands—he does, despite what Rhodey thinks. His bad leg is a hindrance to outlaws such as themselves, particularly when it isn’t like they have a home base they could leave him out while they go out to commit whatever crime has struck their fancy. No, they’ve been nomads for as long as Tony has known them, never tied down to any one place, and he’s grateful that they at least love him enough to stay in this area instead of moving on to greener pastures.

He checks that the street is clear and then hurries them into his home. It’s changed slightly since the last time Steve and Bucky were in Timely. Pepper gifted him with a rug to go in front of the fireplace six months ago and Peter’s aunt made him a series of sketches of the view from the top of Howling Canyon that he hung in the kitchen. But other than that, the house is much the same as it’s always been, and he isn’t surprised when neither Steve nor Bucky pay any attention to the changes in favor of following him to the bedroom.

They strip him in silence, hands so gentle he’d call them reverent if he didn’t know any better. But he does know better. They don’t love him enough to be reverent. Reverence is saved for each other, for how Steve looks at Bucky in the early dawn when he thinks they’re both still sleeping, for Bucky saving Steve an extra cup of coffee, for the way they know how to tack each other’s horses just as well as they know their own. Reverence isn’t saved for him.

But he treats themreverently. He’s always treated them that way, since the night they took him to their bed. He’s never known any other way to love. They had been his first, the ones to ruin him for all others, and a small part of him hates them for that even as he kisses them hungrily, savoring these few moments he gets to spend with them.

He goes to his knees for them, worships Bucky’s cock with his mouth while Steve undresses, then lays down for Steve to open him up. He lets them fuck him, moans their names while they whisper praises in his ear, and pretends that this is enough, that he doesn’t want more. He imagines it though, imagines Steve lifting him onto Nomad and following Bucky out of town, never to return.

Bucky falls asleep when they’re done—he always does—so Steve is the one who stands and finds a washcloth from somewhere in the house. He wipes the three of them off and then lays down on his side, facing Tony.

“You’re sad tonight,” he says quietly.

“No,” Tony denies. He doesn’t want them to know that he wants more, that he’d do just about anything to get it. They’ll only feel bad that they can’t give him what he wants, like it’s any fault of theirs.

“You are,” Steve insists. “You try to hide it, but you are.”

“Steve…”

“I won’t ask you.” Steve’s own eyes are sad as he reaches out to run delicate fingers over Tony’s face. “I know you wouldn’t tell me anyway. That’s okay; you’re entitled to your secrets, sweetheart.”

There’s something terribly earnest in Steve’s expression, something that Tony doesn’t think he’s seen before. And he’s so close to blurting it out, begging Steve for something he can’t have. He swallows the words back with difficulty and asks instead, “What did you two do this time?”

Steve shrugs as best as he can. “A train.”

“A—” Tony stills. “You didn’t. Steve, you couldn’t. You’ll bring the Marshals down on your heads.”

“Had to,” Steve says casually. “Was the only way to get enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Gold,” Bucky says from behind him, startling him.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but his breath comes faster as he realizes just what they’ve done. “You didn’t,” he repeats, sitting up. He scrambles to the end of the bed, as far away from Steve and Bucky as he can get. The outlaws sit up as well, leaning against the headboard as they watch him warily. “What were the two of you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking: you weren’t. Because if you were, you would have known better. Forget the Marshals, you’ll bring the whole damn army down on your heads. How could you have been so stupid?”

“We were thinking we’d like to get a house,” Steve says, cutting him off.

“A—a house?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky agrees. “We found ourselves a little patch of land in California we’d like to settle down in. Needed one last robbery to get us enough money to buy it.”

Tony’s heart stops beating, he swears it does. “California,” he repeats faintly.

“Sure, they’ll never think to look for us in California.”

Bucky sounds so calm, as though he can’t see that Tony’s heart is breaking in front of them. How can he be so cruel? How can he just causally mention that they’re leaving him forever, as though the last five years mean nothing to them?

“When are you leaving?” he manages, and it shocks him how calm he sounds when he feels as though his grief is visible from the stars.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. There’s something careful in the way he looks at Tony, like he at least might have some idea of what’s going through Tony’s head.

Tony repeats, “Tomorrow.” He nods, blinking furiously to try to clear his eyes of the treacherous tears he can feel welling up. He can’t let them know. They’re leaving tomorrow and he doesn’t want them to go. He knows it would have happened eventually. The lawless west is shrinking more and more each day. It’s only a matter of time before the law catches up to them. Their only option is to leave and go somewhere no one knows them. But does it have to be so soon? He’d thought they would have more time.

“So this is goodbye, then,” he says, twisting the bedcovers in his hands. He can’t look at them, too afraid they’ll know what’s racing through his head if he does.

“…Goodbye?” Steve asks. He sounds puzzled. Tony hates that. What right does he have to be confused? That’s for Tony, seeing as how he’s the one who’s been left out of the loop during all this. God above, how long have they been planning this? It must have been at least a year in the making.

“Yes, goodbye,” he says. “One last fuck to see you off, right?”

“One last… Tony,” Bucky says sharply, “do you think we’re plannin’ on leavin’ you here?”

Tony’s heart stops for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re not?” he asks, daring to peek at them. Steve looks horrified, Bucky thunderous as he leans forward to tug Tony into his arms. Tony doesn’t resist, too tired of pretending, too confused by the twists this conversation has taken to argue. Steve curls up against Bucky’s side, carding gentle fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Sweetheart, did you think we weren’t gone on you?” Steve asks, kissing his forehead. “We’ve been fallin’ for you since you figured out where we were goin’ and chased us down.”

“But you never asked me to come with you.”

“S’pose that’s my fault,” Bucky says gruffly. He gingerly touches the scar on Tony’s leg where Bucky’s bullet had ripped through him. “We saw how much pain you were in an’ we couldn’t bear to make it any worse. An’ that’s just what would have happened if you’d spent every night out there with us. We wanted to keep you safe, thought you’d be happier if you weren’t always in pain.”

“I wanted you,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“Yeah, we, uh, we get that now,” Steve mutters sheepishly. “Tony, say you’ll come with us this time. Don’t make us go off on our own this time. We want you to come, can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He should argue. He should remind them that in the five years they’ve been riding off and leaving him at home, he’s built a life. He has a business and an apprentice and a little house that he likes. He’s not the wide-eyed child he once was, dreaming of adventure. But then, neither are Steve and Bucky, if they really do mean that they’re going to get to California and settle down.

“Darlin’?”

The next morning, Peter arrives at the smithy to find the backdoor locked and the fire cold. He frowns; it’s not like Tony to still be home at this hour. He turns on his heel and heads to Tony’s house. It’s as dark as the smithy is though it doesn’t look like anything is out of place.

Tony is nowhere to be seen. He wonders for an instant if Tony spent the night at Rhodey’s, as he sometimes does when it’s been too long between Steve and Bucky’s visits (though Peter isn’t supposed to know anything about the outlaws). He turns to leave, planning on heading over to Rhodey’s to ask if he’s seen Tony this morning, only to catch a glimpse of something on the kitchen table, glinting in the early morning sunlight pouring in from the door.

Curious, he wanders over to find a single gold coin—and a letter addressed to him. Peter immediately pockets the coin and then opens the letter. It’s written in Tony’s messy scrawl and he reads it eagerly, hoping it’ll tell him where Tony’s gone.

Peter,

I hope you’ve spotted this. The coin is for you. Under the bed, there’s a pouch full of more coins, but those are for Happy. They should be enough to drag Happy out of the quiet life to finish your apprenticeship. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but it was time to move on.

If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’ve run away to California.

Tony

#alle writes #alle answers #stuckony #if you like please reblog #nsfk #ish

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a-libra-writes · 3 years ago

Note

hello, i am here! Stannis with the prompt: a diary where you can communicate with your soulmate, please. it can be hc's or scenario; however you choose to quench my thirst for him, I will be grateful.

hi molly, thank u for giving me such a treat!!! bc this was my first prompt and it... uh ....................

really got away from me

(LOTS OF ANGST BUT ITLL BE OK I PROMISE MAYBE)

The first thing he felt about it was annoyance. The six year old second son of Lord Baratheon looked down and saw that someone had doodled all over his book. He figured it was Robert, though he'd never seen a quill in his brother's hand unless it was being forced by the maester. He set the leather bound book in front of his mother expectantly, silently waiting for an explanation. When she looked at it and gave him a curious glance, he finally spoke.

"Robert's been drawing in it," Stannis said. He placed it right on top of her embroidery so she'd see. Lady Cassana wasn't bothered, rather, she was curious. She picked up the book and flipped through the pages.

"Did you see him do it, sweetling?"

"No." The lack of evidence didn't deter him - no, this was evidence enough. He didn't understand what his mother was so amused about.

Lady Cassana stopped on one of the pages. She smiled at the messy drawing of what was probably a cat catching a mouse. Under that was a tidy little castle with a series of smiling figures. "I don't think it's your brother, Stannis."

Stannis frowned, ready to argue that fact, but she asked, "Do you know what a soulmate is, sweetling?"

“No.”

“It’s a special person that only you can speak with this way,” She touched the book. “It's a special thing, I did it when I was your age. It’s the will of the gods, my love. You should write something back."

He hesitated. “Do I… have to?”

“Not if you don’t want to. But perhaps say hello, give it a try.” Lady Cassana said. She was smiling broadly now. “Enjoy it while you can.”

"What if they're not literate?"

Maester Cressen looked up from his papers, surprised the usually quiet boy was speaking during lessons. Stannis repeated, “What if my… soul mate doesn’t know their letters? You said the smallfolk don't."

The Maester stood and walked over to the leather book. Two years later, and it still looked in good condition. Stannis took care of this things, especially this. As usual the page was covered in whimsical drawings.

“Have you tried to write to them, my lord?”

“Not yet.” Stannis was furrowing his brow already, wanting his questions answered. “What happens if one soul mate can’t write, but the other can? What if both can't?"

“My lord, there's no need to worry about things that are irrelevant to you.”

“What do the smallfolk do?” Stannis pressed on. “Draw pictures like this? How do they find each other? How do they know what the other person looks like?"

Maester Cressen was already turning back to his papers. “Soulmates don’t always find each other, my lord, nor should they expect to.”

“Why not?”

“Distance, lack of communication, familial duties.” The maester said dismissively. “If you’ll return to your lessons—”

“I finished. What’s the point of soulmates if they can never meet?"

Maester Cressen sighed. There was no escaping this anytime soon, he feared. “It’s the will of the gods, my lord, and a great mystery we maesters have studied for centuries. It’s best not to think much of it, however. Draw or write back in the book, if you wish, but do not spend too much time with it. It’s best not to get expectations of someone you will likely never meet.”

Stannis looked down at the book, startled by a new drawing already appearing. He couldn’t see them being made, only when they were finished. It was a school of fish, or maybe a flock of birds. Wouldn’t it be simple to ask where this person lived, and go see them? What was the point of all this if he was just meant to ignore it? He wanted to ignore it, but this mysterious person kept drawing all over his notes and it was distracting.

“Mother said it’s 'the will of the gods', too. Does that mean it’s bad to ignore it?”

The maester stood up and closed the leather book. He replaced it with a chart of various colorful coat of arms and a map. “I daresay it’s time to move on to the next lesson."

It took him a few days, but the lordling decided to write in the book. Stannis wasn't much of an artist, so Hello seemed like a good start. He was relieved when there was a simple ‘hello!’ written back within a few minutes, and later, a scribbly flower with a long stalk underneath. Seeing the words form on their own so quickly, and in response to him, unnerved Stannis. He closed the book and tried not to think about it the rest of the day.

He checked a week later, where more drawings were present, with more words: whats your nam?

He wrote back, Name has an 'e'.

And before his eyes, a minute later, there was a name… and a house, and a title. Caspian.

She was a highborn lady? Stannis looked at the page, not sure what to think about it. It’d be alright to write to a lady, wouldn’t it? Maester Cressen was the one worried about this soulmate business. Perhaps it was because a lord and peasant couldn’t be together? Stannis knew that rule already. He knew the decorum and niceties his parents rehearsed him through, even at his young age. He walked to the library to find a map, and in the time he finally located it and rolled it out, there was more on the page.

A drawing of something weird and arrow-shaped. this is our sigil. its a manta ray.

Stannis had never seen one, but he had a sense that wasn’t what they looked like. He tried looking through the map, but words kept appearing.

whats your nam where are you from? ?? are you a boy or girl do you like horses ? I like swiming and horses! im good at it

He considered closing the book again, rolling up the map, going back to whatever he was doing before. If there was no point, then why bother with this? ... Then again, he’d have to go back to the training yard, and Robert was there swinging around a huge wooden sword.

Stannis frowned, deciding this was the less annoying (and painful) activity for now. He found an ink pot and quill, held it tightly and wrote in a fine penmanship—

My name is Stannis Baratheon.

The last part smudged, and it didn’t look exactly how his father signed it, but it was his best. The response wasn’t immediate, and he quickly saw why. A drawing of a stag appeared on the paper before the words did.

Its good to meat you! lets be friends

Friends? Friends. He thought about it. Stannis didn’t have friends, just brothers. He didn’t think he needed any. This didn’t have to be so bad, though, he could try. If it was too tiresome, or too... strange, he could stop. Maester Cressen wanted him to stop, anyhow, and his mother said he didn't have to.

It’s spelled ‘meet’. We can be friends.

Lady Cassana patted his mess of black hair, and Stannis didn’t flinch away this time. Instead, he asked, “Were you and father soulmates?”

“No,” She answered honestly. She was always honest, and he liked that. His father joked too much. “Do you remember what I told you about duty? Sometimes we have to set aside our hearts to best serve our realm. Sometimes we have to set aside this.”

She gave the leather book back to him. Maester Cressen had taken it, and he was determined to accept the punishment, but it bothered him more than he wanted to say. He was grateful his mother returned it, though he was struggling to meet her eyes. His ears were still red from embarrassment, but she wasn’t upset, or teasing, or scolding.

“It hurt me to set my own down, but I knew it wasn’t meant to be. Your father had one that he never wrote to. The idea of having it and setting it aside was too much for him. And yet, we love each other very much, and we love our sons.” Lady Cassana stopped touching his hair when he finally squirmed away. Stannis ran his fingers along the leather spine and the uneven parchment bound inside the book.

When he took a long time to answer, she spoke softly. “It’s your decision, Stannis.”

That night, he wrote in the book, asking what she’d do when they grew up. When she'd stop writing. The response was instant. There was a drawing of a sad girl next to her words.

your my friend! i like writing to you. do you want to stop?

I don’t. Stannis decided, and that was it.

The talks still came, though. It happened before, several times, and here it was again. It didn’t matter that he stopped bringing the book to his lessons, or that he only wrote in the privacy of his room. Maester Cressen always seemed to know.

“It’s for your own good that you begin to set it aside, Stannis,” The old man said. He always seemed old, but when he was scolding it was especially so.

Stannis wasn’t one to talk back, but he still struggled to hide his scowl. This wasn’t the first time the maester made him set his jaw and tense it up. It wasn’t his business. She never discouraged it, so he didn’t understand why Maester Cressen had to.

“It’s not inappropriate,” He said. “She’s a lady. I never write improperly, it's like sending letters."

“Sending a strange lady letters is inappropriate,” The Maester sighed. “Especially without the knowledge of her family. What would they say?"

“She could tell them at anytime."

“Do you tell your lord father and lady mother all that you write, then?”

Stannis gritted his teeth and turned away. At ten and three, Stannis could already see over the old man’s head, and he didn't feel like a child, so he didn't appreciate being talked to like one. “You don’t speak to Robert about these matters.”

“Robert is at the Eyrie, no doubt being told the same by Lord Arryn. Stannis, do you understand why I say these things? Do you understand the trouble it could cause you, and worse, her?”

Maester Cressen often referred to ‘her’, or the girl, even if she was just as grown as Stannis. He didn't ask her identity, and Stannis didn't give it. He hated having to hear this conversation again. Of all the trouble Robert was already causing in the Eyrie — he saw those letters, it was his duty to attend to them while his parents were at sea — Stannis felt like his own actions were hardly important. There would be weeks where he couldn’t write to her at all, or she was busy as well. If anyone tried to read what they wrote, gods forbid, it was mostly idle talk and drawings.

Lots and lots of drawings, she still had that habit. She was getting very good at them. Stannis brought his mind back to the present. “I understand.” He said, in a tone that made it clear he didn’t actually intend to stop.

Case in point, he pulled out the worn leather book that evening. It was the second, or maybe the third one. If she didn’t draw so much they’d have more room, but sometimes Stannis wrote a lot, too. She made it easy to do that. It was alright if she didn’t answer right away, or if at all. It was good to just write it.

He frowned as he moved to the most recent page. It was a short, curt sentences, which wasn’t like her. There were no pictures.

My cousin died this morning. We were riding together, and she fell from her horse. I couldn’t help her. No one blames me, but I feel terrible. I’ve been crying all day. I’m going to the Godswood tonight to pray for forgiveness. I might be quiet. I'm sorry.

‘I might be quiet’. ‘I might not write tonight.’ ‘I’ll write to you tomorrow’. ‘I’ll tell you about it when I can’. Those were phrases the two of them were used to. It was expectant. They may not write every day, or every week, but eventually they will.

Take the time you need. I’ll be here for you.

It made his chest hurt to write that, but he knew it was the right thing. It’s what she would always say to him, and without fail, he’d eventually come around and tell her. She was the only one he really told… anything. He wondered if the same was true for her. She mentioned visiting ladies now and again, a knight’s daughter she played with, and… this cousin.

He kept the book beside him the rest of the evening, knowing she likely wouldn’t respond. By the time she did, the earlier conversation with the maester had left his mind.

The longest they’d gone without writing was during the following year. It took months before he could pick the book up again, even look at it. It was months using all the willpower he had to get out of bed and carry on. There was Renly to look after, and Storm’s End to attend to, and the duties that Robert neglected when he returned to the Eyrie. He should have stayed, but he didn’t. So Stannis took care of it. He did what was right.

When he was finally able to pick up the book, when the choking pain keeping him up at night had dulled to just a constant ache that allowed sleep now and again, he hesitated.

The latest page was inquiries of how he was, where he was. There was a variety of pictures, black and some colors she’d managed to get ahold of. Her manta rays looked like proper rays, and so did the stags she had become so fond of. She drew some ships she’d seen in the harbor, a cat that liked to hide away in her bedroom. Then the pictures stopped.

My father told me what happened. Stannis, I’m here. You can write to me, whenever you can. I’ll always be here.

It hurt again. He closed the book, listened to the fire flickering loudly in the hearth in his room. It was becoming stuffy, but he didn’t want to open a window. He could hear the waves and the crashes against the rock from his window, and that would lead to the sounds of broken wood and screams in his sleep.

He moved closer to the fire, away from those sounds. Flipping through the old book’s pages, looking at the art and some of the sillier things she wrote. Apparently when he’d make her laugh, she’d screw up some letters. She told him as much. When he corrected any spelling, she liked to make the same mistake and circle it. She liked to draw little figures that were supposed to be them, but it was awful on purpose, and they were usually doing something ridiculous like riding a dragon.

Looking back on those gave him the strength to flip to the newest page. He stared at it, wondering if he should stop. He was acting Lord of Storm’s End. Wasn’t his duty even more important than this, and wasn’t her reputation in danger? ‘Willed by the gods’, they said, but he no longer believed in those. What gods would smash his parents and their great ship against the rocks of their own castle? The same stupid gods that would create this... this connection in a world where it would inevitably be severed.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain shoot up across his jaw and straight to his head, where a headache would start. The fire was right there. It would be easy to …

His hands moved on their own. The words were sloppy and left heavy ink blotches on the paper. I’m here.

I am too. I missed you.

The response was near instantaneous. Perhaps if she waited, he could’ve done it. He could’ve burned it, if she hadn’t wrote that. Maybe it didn’t matter what she’d say. The sudden longing and loneliness hit him all at once, but it was easy to respond.

I won’t do it again. Being gone for this long.

A pause, a heartbeat, and a tensing of his jaw that made his head ache again. He added in an anxious scrawl, I missed you too.

It was another sleepless night, but for once, it wasn’t because of the nightmares and the crashing waves. The sun came up as he wrote in the margins of the last page, promising to find a new book.

There was modest wooden box he kept them in, hidden under his bed. He was good at hiding it now. No one had bothered mentioning Stannis’ old habit anymore, assuming he’d grown out of it. He’d dated all of them to the best of his knowledge, though he rarely went back to read them. He used to, but that simple act flustered him horribly. They were still in good condition, except for one that had been partially chewed by a hunting hound. The one time he was careless.

The hound was no longer around, and he regretted that. He liked dogs. He liked that one, upset as he was when she chewed the diary years ago. She was still a good, loyal dog. He had to butcher her with the rest.

Stannis tried to remember when they ate the dogs. Thinking was a slow, laborious process now. He had to sit down to do it, and getting up was even worse. He stayed standing as long as possible, afraid of what would happen if he stopped. He couldn’t stop, not while his men needed him, and Renly, and Robert.

He moved slowly. It was hard to tell if it was to conserve energy or if he simply had no energy left. Stannis carefully unwrapped the small leather strap that kept the diary bound and closed. His shaking hands struggled to grasp the paper and turn the pages, but he managed. It was the writing that was the hardest. At least there was plenty of paper and ink, only because no one could eat it.

When he looked at the page again, the lighting was different. The candle was lower than before. He’d dropped his quill on the floor — no, he was on the floor, leaning against the cool stone. Stannis didn’t remember falling. He wasn’t sure if he passed out, or fell asleep. Again he turned to the proper page and picked up the quill. He tried to write before he remembered he needed ink. The ink dragged across the page as he wrote languidly, Are you there

The question mark was more of an ugly splotch that spread across the paper.

Yes, always.

Her family supported the rebellion, being sworn to Eddard Stark, and outraged at what the Mad King had done to his father and brother. Stannis told himself it made writing easier, not that he’d ever give her any information that could endanger her. Early on, they didn’t speak of it. Especially now, he couldn’t. He couldn’t…

He couldn’t… think. Stannis struggled for words. He mentioned what day it was, how many men he had left. A log that helped keep him grounded, something he hated to subject her to, but he needed the clarity. Sometimes she corrected him on the day, and that startled him. As he finished his short report, his hand trembled, and he dropped the quill again. Stannis exhaled, forcing the air through his lungs, then struggled to breath in again.

Not for the first time, he wondered if this was dying.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he looked at the page again. She wrote a lot, and he couldn’t remember when it was there.

When you make it through this disgusting siege — and you will make it, Stannis — I’ll be there. I swear it, I’ll sail down to Storm’s End with my family’s ships. I don’t care anymore. I want to be there.

She’d said as much before, when this started. Stannis discouraged her. He didn’t have the strength for that anymore. Instead, he fought to keep his eyes open, fought to think about it, difficult as thinking was. Thinking of their meeting used to be a surefire way of a day full of anxious thoughts, but now it was… grounding. He couldn’t see the end of the rebellion, or the end of this siege. He just had to endure it. That’s what Robert said: Endure it, brother. Hold it for me.

But he could see her, in his thoughts. He could try. Some years ago, she asked what he looked like, and he responded as such: Blue eyes, black hair, like his father and brothers. Asking the same of her felt… strange. She didn’t answer right away, so he panicked. He said she didn’t have to do such a thing. It was inappropriate. She told him to wait, which he thought was odd.

Several hours later, she took up nearly a whole page with a ‘messy’ self-portrait: her words, not his. It was only a bust, but it still transfixed him. It was clear from the drawing she had looked in a mirror, and it was messy, and it was surrounded by words describing her hair color and her favorite dress and her eyes. Stannis couldn’t look at the page for days after that. He’d break out in a sweat just thinking about it.

It was comforting to think about the old picture now. Maybe 'comforting' wasn’t the right word, but she was the one who was good with words, and pictures, and little fantasies like this. She liked to write about what they could do if they met.

Maybe he took too long to respond again. She had written more. We’ll meet and you’ll show me the drum walls around Storm’s End. You promised. I’ll bring my best paintings, I made one for you. I don’t care if it’s allowed or not, it’s a gift. I want to see you so badly it hurts.

Stannis touched the letters. He was startled by how his pale hands seemed to blend into the parchment. He didn’t recognize the knuckles sticking out. He wondered what she sounded like, and how she laughed. He didn’t think he could manage it now. Stannis glanced around for the quill, dipped it into ink with a great deal of effort, and slowly slid it across the paper. He stopped abruptly, ruining the words.

You’re the strongest, most noble man I know. You will make it through this and the rebellion will end, and I’ll be with you. I swear it before the old gods and new.

The ink seeped into the paper, the quill trembled in his hand as he tried to hold it properly. He was dying, he decided. Only dying men ate disgusting leather they tried to boil into water and infected rats. Even the latter was becoming scarce. He scrawled a response, struggling to pull the words together.

I miss you.

I miss you too, Stannis.

#tihs is so self indulgent kfskfks #pls dont expect the other prompts to be this long haha i just went kinda nuts!!#stannis baratheon x reader #libra fics #libra minis

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wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago

Text

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV

Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Gif by: @uuuhshiny

Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.

It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.

One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.

Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.

Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.

That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.

Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.

That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.

Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.

Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.

“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”

“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”

“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”

“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”

And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.

Would that be so bad?

She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.

—————

“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”

Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.

Bad landing.

His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.

It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?

Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.

“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”

His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”

“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”

He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.

He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”

“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.

“No, you can’t think like that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”

“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.

“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“

“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"

“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”

The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”

The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.

“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”

“But if I don’t make it…”

“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”

“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”

—————

They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.

He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.

“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.

“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”

He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”

“But what if she wakes up?”

“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”

“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.

The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.

His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.

His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”

Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”

He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.

He presses a kiss to her nose.

My sun.

Her forehead.

My stars.

Her lips.

My whole sky.

—————

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.

His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.

Would that be so bad?

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.

He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.

“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”

I should’ve said no.

“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”

All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.

Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”

Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.

“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”

This man he almost has died for.

“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”

His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.

He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.

The money too.

None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.

The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.

Would that be so bad?

He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?

But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.

He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.

#i believe in francisco morales supremacy #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #fanfic #fanfiction #santiago 'pope' garcia #santiago garcia #william 'ironhead' miller #benny miller #pedro pascal #ofc #oc #original female character #original character

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uglyshirtsinc · 4 years ago

Text

AIGHT HERE WE GO BUCKLE UP!! Endermen hybrids Illumina, Purpled, and Ranboo! With a sprinkle of Technodad and Sonboo, a drizzle of Little Brother Purpled and Big Brother Punz, with a side of Illumina and Fruit friendship! Less go! This was meant to be a ramble but literally ended up a fic outline?? Could even be read as a fic if you wanted??? What the hell 6 am me???

Endermen hyrbid are valuable because since they're half human instead of making enderpearls they make eyes of ender, and they respawn like humans do so they're used to farm ender eyes.

Ranboo meets Illumina and Purpled after being kidnapped and separated from his dad at the wee age of eleven meets sixteen year old Illumina and eleven year old Purpled.

He's tossed into a cell with the two of them, Illumina being there to calm the younger two down after being used for the farm. Whenever Illumina is brought back to the cell, he cares for the boys and dotes on them, acting much more worried and clingy that normal. They let him take care of them, knowing that keeping them safe calms him.

They talk about their lives before being taken, Illumina talks about the adventures he and his friend Fruit would go on. The dangerous things they did. He promises the boys to one day show them cool tricks, using the excuse of "the cell is too tiny and someone would get hurt" as to why he can't show them off there, not wanting to tell them the little portions of food he recieves (even less considering he gives most to the boys) has eaten away at his strength.

Purpled talks about his adoptive brother Punz who's just a bit older than Illumina, at age seventeen. How he was a cool mercenary hired to do "super secret" stuff and protect people. He tells them about his trident and tomahawk.

When Ranboo opened up, it gave Illumina his first real sense of hope he's had in a long time. Ran talks about his dad, emperor of the Antarctic Empire and faithful patron of the powerful Blood God. Illumina had heard of the Arctic Empire's hybrid son and after story after story began to believe that Ran really was the prince of the Empire. Ran's father obviously loved him, each story leaving him in tears of either longing or laughter. His father would be searching for them, and he would find them.

Weeks turned to months and nothing changed, until Ran was on the floor screaming in pain and Purpled was hiding in the corner wailing in fear. Illumina could hear cracking, popping, and spotted two hard lumps just next to Ranboo's shoulder blades and realized he wasn't just some Enderman hybrid, but rather a dragon hybrid. When the pain finally subsided and their captors returned to take the two young boys Illumina knew what he had to do.

He didn't know much of Gods and patrons, only what he read while searching the strongholds with Fruit after their latest adventure.

Patrons were messy, being worthy to have one and be a follower was even messier. But within that moment, he didn't care. Thousands of voices in his head was better than having to witness those monsters that held them captive force Ran to cough and gag and wheeze in attempt to get Dragons Breath from the boy. It was worth it to return Purpled to his brother, to see the boys eyes light up the same way they did when Ran said his dad would save them. And for just a moment, Illumina let himself be selfish. It was worth it to get to hold his best friend close, to be strong enough to scale buildings and run from golems they'd messed with. To see the sunrise over a snowy mountain, to show the world he was faster, stronger, and smarter than anyone imagined.

Cutting his hand on a jagged rock sticking from the walls that he had warned the boys about so often, be used his own blood to draw the symbol. When it glows and the world fades, stands before him a towering man with hair as white as snow, wearing the finest attire fit for a king, dressed in gold with everything he wore.

Wordlessly, a deal is made and as their hands shake Illumina is staring into dark, ruby red eyes sparkling with a beast like excitement. The Blood God speaks and tells him "They have been waiting." And Illumina knows what he means.

When the world returns, his ragged and dirty clothes are replaced by the ones he would wear before the monsters took him. A pouch of emeralds hangs from his belt and a familiar black mask covers his nose and mouth. His strength has returned, but at a cost he has yet to find out.

There's no whispers, no cries, no one yelling in his head. There's no insanity blocking his train of thought. No amnesia. He is Illumina.

He wraps himself with the one thin blanket they were allowed, curling up near the gate to keep himself and his clothes covered.

Purpled is first to return and Illumina places a figer over his lips, signaling Purpled to stay quiet. When Ran returns, it takes Illumina less than thirty seconds to have the monstrous man on the ground unconscious. Ran and Purpled watch in awe as he checks the horrid man for anything of value to them. A ring of keys, a pouch of coin, an iron sword, and a map are all Illumina deems worthy.

While his strength has returned, he's mindful of the boys and their weak bodies. He carries Purpled on his back, the violet eyed boy the smallest out of them all.

It takes hours to escape their prison mostly undetected. When they do, Illumina grabs the first horse he can find that's saddled up and tells the boys to hold on as he rides off.

The map was appreciated beyond comprehension. It doesn't take long to find a town and get the boys proper clothing that will survive the journey to the Arctic. Keeping them close and their heads down they get what they need tools wise and leave before the sun can even set.

It's hard, telling Purpled that he'll have to wait even longer to see his brother, but promises once they return Ranboo home that Punz can come there to take him home. If Illumina must admit, he chooses Technoblade first because once it hits the news of the princes return and Illumina's name is spread, he hopes Fruit will come and find him, even if they have to meet in the middle.

Throughout the terror and pain, they push through. From the nights they got separated, Purpled clinging to Ran and assuring the dragon hybrid Illumina will find them, fighting off zombies when Ran couldn't stand straight to hold a sword. The relief when Illumina scoops them both into his arms and holds then tighter than before.

With hunters hot on their tail they can't afford to stop and it takes four months itself to reach the borders between the Arctic Empire and whatever land they found themselves in.

Ran's wings have grown in, one a dark, scaley black with brilliant green in the folds between each bone. The other is a is white and reminds Illumina of a jellyfish, bits and tassles hanging from the wing giving it a much more fragile, paper thin appearance. Both are incredibly strong, despite their looks, and it's often the intimidation factor the two wings bring that gets them out of sticky situations.

A year has passed since they've been held in captivity, Illumina now seventeen and the boys twelve.

Illumina buys the cheapest tickets to the Empire, having to hold Ran's hand to keep him from teleporting ahead in excitement. He cries multiple times, the feeling of finally being free and so close to home hitting him like a truck. Illumina sees the excitement on Purpleds face, knowing after Ran he gets his family too.

They arrive on the island and immediately Ranboo is dragging them the way to the inner walls. Claiming to know his home like the back of his hand. Passing by a few guards, Purpled asks why they don't just tell the guards they have the prince.

"The guards were the whole reason Ranboo ended up where he was, plus they could try killing us immediately thinking we took Ran. I can't risk putting you two in any more danger." Is the reply he gets.

They teleport to the other side of the walls easily, walking to the other, and teleporting. This repeats for two days till they reach the inner most wall. Techno stands on a platform in the town center, his expression showing no emotion and stance as proper as ever. Just watching him stand so straight makes Illumina's back ache.

Ranboo sobs on the spot and before he can call for his father and rush forward a hand is placed on Illumina's shoulder with a harsh grip.

The guard asks who they are, saying they most definitely are not meant to be there, and within that moment a rage so heavy it hits Illumina like a tidal wave.

A year of torture and pain, months of walking and risking his life to get here and right as he can reach it someone stops him. Illumina barely registers it before the boys jump back screaming and he's pulled his sword out to hit the other man.

He faintly hears cries of "Harvey!" As more people rush towards them. He can only focus on his blade pressing against the man, Harvey's, sword and the deep laughter filling his mind.

"It seems you've finally been broken into." The Blood God thinks aloud.

He yells for Ran to run to his dad who's being ushered of stage, his speech being cut short.

Ran looks between his father who has yet to notice him and then back to Illumina who's risked so much for him. To Purpled, who looks horrified and is trying his hardest to pull back Illumina.

And he chooses them.

Jumping between Illumina and Tapl he unfurls his large wings and yells out with a slightly staticy voice "Stop!"

And it's as if the world has stopped, the Blood God no longer speaking in Illumina's mind, Purpled can sag his shoulders in relief, and all eyes are on them.

He looks into Tapl's heterochromatic eyes and in a voice barely above a whisper says "Stop attacking my family."

Tapl steps back, the other guards step back. All can easily recognize the missing Prince, from the two-toned hair to the sparkling eyes only he possesses.

His name is breathed out and demands attention. Ranboo turns to gaze at his father from across the short distance and it's real.

They meet in the middle and Ran holds his father like a scared child, and Techno allows himself to crumble and cry. He cries for the child thought to be dead, stolen from him by those he trusted. He cries for the year and months he's spent separated from him. They cry together, and tears of pent up pain turn to tears of happiness. His grandfather and uncles appear soon enough, he's wrapped in hugs so tight and a pair of wings so warm he could fall asleep.

Purpled and Illumina and thanked for bringing him back, and all Illumina asks is for them to help them find their homes. A message is sent far and wide of Purpled's reappearance and it takes less than a month for a blonde boy, fresh i to adulthood to come crashing through the castle doors and Purpled to find himself wrapped in his big brothers arms once more.

Punz sobs so loudly it's heard from across the palace, clinging to his baby brother and cradling him like a baby.

You'd think after the royal family just about got on their knees to thank him, Illumina would be used to it and stop being so embarrassed, but something about seeing Purpled light up like he's dreamed of seeing the boy do and finally getting to see with his own two eyes the brother he talked about makes him very thankful for the mask there to hide his flushed cheeks.

Ranboo and Purpled aren't ready to let go, so Punz stays with his brother in the castle for awhile.

Illumina is asked thousands and thousands of questions, where they were taken, how they escaped, etcetera.

He takes Techno aside and confesses the deal he made in return for their freedom. He confesses he has yet to know what he's given up to the Patron and his fears. He confesses that He couldn't bare the thought of young Purpled loosing his hope and being raised in a place like that, Ranboo being hurt worse and worse for bottles of acidic breath.

He apologizes for being selfish and wanting to find his family.

And for the first time in forever, he's being held in the safety of a warm hug. He gets to cry and be comforted, he gets to be weak.

It takes longer, but one day new face appears and after four years he breaths in that ridiculously sweet scent of green apples and sweet fruits that Fruit Berries always had. He hugs his friend once again.

They show the boys their tricks, as Illumina promised. They watch them do stupidly dangerous things that make Phil, Techno, and Wilbur flinch and jump to catch the two seventeen year olds, always groaning in faux annoyance watching them land safely, Phil claiming this'll give him a heart attack and Wilbue and Techno agreeing their stupid (while impressive) actions are gonna be bad influences on their sons. Wilbur calls it quits after they manage to drag Punz in, the mercenary dueling the two of them and trying to see whether strength or agility are better. Purpled is torn between cheering for either family member and just yells words of encouragement a lot.

For once in a long long time, they're safe.

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today-only-happens-once · 4 years ago

Text

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are. Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile. Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #platonic drlamp #virgil sanders #percy jackson au #pjo!au #fighting #weapons #violence #found family? in my fics? its more likely than you think #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

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