#don’t get mad if i drew the wrong kinda blood on him i forget what happens

[captaincanonly]

welcome to the dark carnival brother or whatever he says

#homestuck #homestuck fanart #canon’s art #fanart #art #gamzee makara #what did you do little clown core #that song used to scare me so baaaad #i’ve gone through the biggest character development in terms of loving to liking to hating to liking to loving gamzee #it’s crazy yo #they r just complex ! me when clown. #aweosme #he is pretety swagg tee bee aych if you RLLYYYYY think about it!!? #don’t get mad if i drew the wrong kinda blood on him i forget what happens #also the red eyes R SO SIIIIICK #here’s me adding gold to everything yet againoh boy wait till i draw #the sea dwellers.

[cherryatiny]

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐒/𝐎 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 (𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑖'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔), 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑦

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„Y/N pass me the bottle.”

Said the stern voice of your best friend Hongjoong, you were at a bar, with your other friends, celebrating Hongjoong's career success.

He finally got the chance to join a musical company and fulfil his dream of becoming an artist and a song producer.

Seeing your best friend happy that his dreams came true made you sincerely happy of course, but a small part of you was kinda sad about that.

Hongjoong has been your crush since you two were kids and now, that he is going to become a well-known artist, he'll for sure find some hot idol-model girlfriend and your love will go in the drain.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your blood, maybe the pent up rage and courage that made you confess.

„I have a confession to make... I-i love you Kim Hongjoong.”

Everyone looked up at you in disbelief, it was until you felt your stomach tightening from embarrassment, urging you to vomit, running out of the room to a restroom to push it out, without knowing Hongjoong was following you.

As he saw you scrunched and hugging the toilet he came to you, to hold your hair from falling into your face.

„I may like you too, but that's something we'll talk about once you are sober."

⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

„Oh, come on, it would be fun, trust me.” Bullshit.

Going out with your best friend Seonghwa and his crush "to support him" was never a good idea.

Not only did you have to observe the cringiness of Seonghwa's love blind actions, but also see his crush treating him so poorly since she clearly did not have any interest in him.

As the movie ended and it was time for you to go home, you stood in front of the cinema with Seonghwa as he bid goodbye to the girl.

„Bye, be careful on your way home and have sweet dreams, I hope we could go out on another date soon.”

„Ah yeah, sure, bye."

You sighed softly, how could he not see the disinterest. As he turned to you, to thank you for helping him overcome this evening, your words stopped him before he could even start.

„Seonghwa, please stop hurting yourself by loving someone who's clearly not interested, when I've been showing you affection and interest for two years."

„What? Yo-you like me?”

As you realised what you've just said, earlobes and cheeks turning red from the embarrassment.

„I mean... kind of.”

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

„Y/N, I'm waiting outside the house, come on, let's go.” said Yunho over a phonecall.

You were celebrating the end of the semester with your classmates, and since you've had some drinks in you and despite that, you didn't know how to drive, you had to call your friend and deep-down also crush Yunho either way.

Rushing out to finally see your crush, you were met with the breath-taking sight of Yunho leaning to his car, one hand scrolling through his phone, the second one chilling in his pockets.

„Yuyu, my love, you’re here.”

„Gosh, Y/N you’re so drunk, I’m glad you called me and didn’t try to go home on your own. I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened.“

„But nothing happened since I called that handsome guy I love.“

Yunho shook his head at your drunk talk, were you talking about him? Not knowing the sincerity of your words, but in the depth of his soul, he hoped the words that came out of your mouth were true...

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

„Happy Birthday dear Mr. Kang, happy birthday to you.“

Handclap noisier than the song of celebration for your boss, Kang Yeosang.

Although being a CEO, he was really warm-hearted and kind, not like the basic CEO type who’s cold and arrogant.

Being his secretary helped you to get to know him better over the years, but also made you grow feelings for him. You sometimes just zoned out and stared at his handsome face for hours, just like now.

„Y/N, can you please follow me to my office, I need to talk to you.“

You had no idea what Yeosang wanted to talk about, feeling only one emotion. Fear. Did he find out you like him? Did you do something wrong? Is he going to fire you? As he closed the door after you two, you couldn’t even look him in the eye, rather observing your high-heels.

„Y/N, what’s with you these days? You seem... different. Your mood’s been down lately, you’re impercipient. You know you can tell me anything, i want my most important employee to be happy.“

Employee. That’s all you were.

„I know you’re probably gonna get mad and I fully understand, feel free to fire me, but truth to be told, over the years I’ve been working for you, I grew feelings and I just can’t get over it... I-I love you, Mr. Kang.“

Yeosang’s face went pale, absorbing the words you’ve just said, mind going blank from the sudden confession.

„I don’t know what to say, Y/N. I mean... you’re a nice, young, hardworking girl, but.. I-I might need a few days to let it sink and think it over.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

San's hips moved to the rhythm of the music, his hands on the waist of some random girl, their sensual dancing just irritating you.

It wasn't like you and San were dating or anything, but you still couldn't stand the thought of him being with anyone else. An annoyed groan coming out of your mouth as you picked your glass and took a shot to drink away those thoughts. San taking the girl by her hand and coming your way.

„Hey Y/N I just wanted to say goodbye, since I’m leaving with Sora to my place, if you need anything you can call, but I don’t think I’ll be able to pick up, since my hands will have other work to do, so rather try Seonghwa.“

„Yeah, I thought so, just don’t forget to wear a condom when you get your dick wet, cuz it looks like you’ll end up with STD.“ you responded, rolling your eyes at him.

„Why are you so rude and foul today, are you jealous because I get some pussy and you’re left with no dick because no one wants to approach you since you’re so mean? Get your act together and we can talk tomorrow.“

„No San, you want to know why am I so cheeky? It’s because I have to watch the man I love fuck around with a random hooker. Go enjoy your dick appointment now, you must be busy.“ Without thinking of it any more, you left him there, your aura for sure full of pure rage.

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠

„Ew fuck no, Yeosang that’s nasty, I wish I could go back in time to five minutes ago when I didn’t hear this confession“ laughed Wooyoung at Yeosang’s confession in the game truth or dare.

Wooyoung took the bottle from Jongho’s hand, ready to spin the bottle and let it pick another victim of his stupid asks and dares. Spinning the bottle, it landed on you. Wooyoung's eyes already glistening from the excitement of daring or asking you something.

„So, Y/N, truth or dare?”

„Dare” a playful smirk finding its place on Wooyoung's face

„I dare you to kiss the person in this room, you have feelings for.”

You immediately started to regret telling him, that you like Mingi, the look in your eyes scolding him.

„Okay, but you all have to close your eyes.”

The 8 boys and your other 3 girl friends closed their eyes, as you hesitantly got up, making your way to Mingi, your crush of 5 months. Sitting on the ground next to him, your fingers landed on his jaw as your lips met his. Mingi’s eyes shot open as all your friends started applauding at your confession.

„I-I think i have feelings for you too Y/N...“

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

You were currently in the changing room, packing your belongings, to take from your workplace. You decided to leave your job as a makeup artist and stylist for the group ATEEZ. The reason was the fact that you liked one of the members and didn’t want to cause any problems to the groups, you knew it was inappropriate to like him, but it was irresistible.

You attached feelings for Wooyoung when you first started to work with them. All eight boys were absolutely amazing, but Wooyoung was just... different. He sparked a flame of interest in you, his personality, his talent, his looks, all those drew you to Wooyoung.

As you cleaned all your makeup brushes, the door to the changing room opened, as the figure of the aforementioned boy stood there.

„What are you doing Y/N? Why are you packing your things, are you going somewhere?“

„I’m leaving, Wooyoung.“

„What, why?“

„That is none of your concers.“

„It is, you’re my stylist, but more importantly, you’re my friend.“

„Yeah, that’s the problem Wooyoung, I’m your stylist - your colleague, that’s why I have to leave.“  

„Why would you have to leave because you’re my stylist, what ar-“

„Because I like you Wooyoung, okay?! That’s why I can’t keep on working with you and mix my feelings into my job, it’s inappropriate, now if you excuse me, I’m leaving.“

The boy stood there as a column, without any movement. Should he go after you, accept your feelings and then you’ll keep on working with him and being his friend, or should he stay there and not go after you? Either way, it was already too late...

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

„So, what’s new in your life, Y/N? We haven’t seen each other for a long time because of our busy schedules.“ Jongho said as he sipped on his boba tea.

„Well, not that much happened in my life. You know how it is, a lot of work and stress, and lesser free time and sleep. I’ve bought a new notebook since my old one broke down and uhm... yeah well... I’ve been catching feelings for this boy lately.“

„Wow, really? I’m so happy for you Y/N, tell me more about it, I need to know what kind of a boy owns my bestie’s heart.“

„Well, he’s a really talented singer, he’s kind and funny, he’s more of an athletic type, hmm... and he’s really really strong. But he’s for real one of the nicest and best persons I’ve ever met, I like him, but I don’t know whether to tell him, because I'm not certain of his feelings...“

„Wow, he seems to be a nice guy, but don’t be blinded by your feelings, if he doesn’t like you, let it be, I don’t want you to get hurt, because of some stupid boy who won’t acknowledge the feelings such a beautiful and amazing woman like you has for him. Anyway, do I know him or who is he? I’m like really really curious right now.“

„It’s you Jongho.. you’re the boy i like.“

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez reaction #ateez fluff

[johnsamericano]

“Corruption.” Pt.2 w.y.h

Genre: College!au, angst, fluff, smut

Pairing: professor!lucas x fem!reader. Ft. Chenle

Warnings: none...yet

Summary: Lucas never thought of falling for a student, but from the first day you walked into de classroom you had him wrapped around your finger.

corruption m.list.

“Y/n?” Lucas was visibly surprised. “How did you find my address?”

His hands quickly covered his bulge and the growing stain on precum. He had a white tshirt on and his hair was completely messy.

“It’s in your Facebook page.” You squeezed your hands nervously, trying to calm yourself down. “Can I come in?”

Lucas nodded vigorously. “Maybe I’m daydreaming again.” He thought.

He stepped aside to let you into his tiny house. It smelled like wood, probably because of his furniture. It was a nice aroma.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” You sat down in the largest sofa.

“Water, please.” Your fingers started playing with the fabric of your jeans. It wasn’t normal for a student to suddenly visit her professor, but you couldn’t get off your mind the fact that you almost kissed. “About what happened a while ago...” He came back with a glass of water and sat down beside you, his hands still trying to cover his dick. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve never thought about you as anything but my professor, and I never will.”

Lucas gripped the glass he was holding. You were trying to avoid a miss understanding, but instead, you ended up making him angry.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Then what can I do to change that?” Lucas asked in a sudden rush of bravery. “What can I do for you to stop thinking of me only as your professor?”

All the blood in your sistem rushed up to your cheeks.

“Mr. Wong-”

“Stop calling me that!” He got up from his seat, brushing his hair back with both of his hands. “No one calls me Mr. Wong except for you. Is it that hard to call me Lucas?”

“Talking about hard, there’s definitely something hard poking through your pants.” You thought as his little accident was revealed. You couldn’t help but to feel nervous. “Did I cause that?” The question kept repeating on your mind.

It didn’t take long for Lucas to notice your gaze fixated on his lower half. He quickly turned around to hide his embarrassment.

Your mind was completely blank, trying to register all of the events that had happened in the past ten minutes. The advice Chenle gave you before arriving to your professor’s house lightened up your mind.

“You need to make it clear that you would never date your professor.”

And so you quoted his words.

“I would never date a professor.” Lucas’ heart was aching, you’d never used that tone on him before. In fact, he was sure that you’d never used that tone on anyone before. “It’s not correct and you know it.”

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past year and it looks like I finally did it.” Now you knew about his feelings he could start making moves, nothing too exaggerated. “I’m not giving up.”

You got up as well. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Wong.”

Without even letting him say goodbye, you left, slamming the door on your way out.

You weren’t even mad at Lucas, you were stressed out. You knew it would be extremely difficult to resist to his charms, maybe even impossible. But you weren’t gonna give in easily.

(...)

The next few days were a pain in the ass. Every single time you’d stay alone with Mr. Wong he’d pull out some cheesy pick up line or call you pet names. The worst part: you were actually falling for him.

“Where can I put this papers, Mr. Wong?” You stood in the middle of the office with a bunch of graded paperwork in your hands.

“Give me that, sweetie.” He grabbed the papers from your hands, purposely brushing his skin against yours.

“Why do you even need my help? Seems to me like you’re doing just fine on your own.”

“Because I wanna be with you.” His child-like smile made your heart beat faster. It was stupid how he could make you nervous so easily. “You’re so cute when you blush.” His right hand made it’s way to your cheek, but you slapped it away.

“Can you please stop?” His smile turned into a frown in less than a second. “I bet you have some kind of Plan B if the school fires you. But guess what? I don’t have a plan B! My parent’s barely make enough money to support themselves. I can’t afford to be kicked out of school.” You grabbed your backpack from the floor. “You wanna have a crush on me? Fine, just don’t expect me to like you back. You’re my professor, and only that.”

Lucas stopped trying to get your attention after that. He was being selfish, and didn’t want to hurt you anymore. The desperate look you had on your face that day hurt him even more than your words.

You changed classes. Lucas wasn’t even surprised when Chenle informed him about it. Your classmates, on the other side, were rather curious. There was even a waiting list for Lucas’ class, so why would anyone in their right mind give up that precious spot?

“He’s been a little down this days.” Chenle casually commented as you were eating in the dining hall from the dorms.

“Really? Well that’s bad.” You kept eating your tacos.

“I know you care about him.” It bothered you how well Chenle knew you, like you were an open book. “You should talk to him.”

“You should become a comedian.”

“I’m serious, y/n. We both know you want to, you’re just too afraid to do so.”

“Can we just talk about something else?”

“Whatever you want.”

You went for a walk as soon as you finished your meal. Chenle was too tired to keep you company, so he went straight to bed. The night was chilly, a full moon shining above the city.

You walked while watching the movement of your feet, completely immersed in your thoughts. You bumped into someone’s chest.

“Sorry!” It was the last person you wanted to see. Lucas. “Mr. Wong.”

“Hello, Miss y/n.” You asked for that sort of treatment, but somehow, it made your heart ache.

“Hello.” His hair wasn’t slicked back as usual, instead, it fell like brown waterfalls over his forehead. It was slightly curled, probably due to a perm.

It annoyed you how much you noticed the little changes in his appearance. It made you think that maybe you’d always been observing him.

“If you excuse me, I need to leave. Good night.” The books in his arms seemed to be trying to escape.

“You need any help?” You pointed at the pile of books.

“It’s okay, you should go to the dorms before it get’s too late.” He tried to reassure you with the fakest smile you’d ever seen.

“Well, good night Mr. Wong.” As much as he tried to forget you, his heart would speed up every single time he saw you.

You walked away, only to hear the books falling onto the ground a few seconds later. You turned around, helping Lucas to pick up everything without saying a word.

“I’m sorry for the way I talked to you, I was rude.” Maybe Chenle was right, you didn’t want anyone to feel bad.

“It’s okay, I know I crossed the line.” A sad smile adorned his lips. Why did you feel the sudden urge to hug him? “I just wish you hadn’t changed classes, it’s not the same without you.”

“My new professor isn’t nearly as interesting as you. He’s quite boring actually.” And just like that, you were laughing. The kind of laugh you’d share with one of your friends, not your professor. “Any chances that I can go back to your class?”

“My class is kinda full, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Thank you, Lucas.” Your eyes met. You swore you could see the night sky reflected in his eyes, they were filled with stars.

You started moving your face closer to his, lips almost touching.

“I know I might regret saying this, but, we’re still at school.” His hand cupped your elbow, his thumb caressing the covered skin. “Care to help me take these to my car?” You nodded absentmindedly, lost in the way his plump lips moved.

You took half of the pile, walking in silence to his car while holding them close to your chest.

“We’re here.” You didn’t even know how to resume your previous actions, and Lucas didn’t want to do anything in case you changed your mind.

You just stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to say something.

“Wanna go somewhere?”

“Yes!” Your answer was almost too enthusiastic, not that it bothered Lucas at all. “I mean, that would be cool.”

There was a voice in your head asking you to stop, asking you to think about the consequences of going out with a professor. But then your heart would tell you the exact opposite thing, to have a nice time with Lucas.

“Were are we going?” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt as he drove, both of his hands gripping the car wheel.

“There’s a park nearby.”

“A park?”

“Don’t worry. I promise it won’t be as boring as it seems.” His hand slid down the car wheel smoothly, reaching for your hand a while later. “Is this okay?”

Once again, a part of you wanted to ask him to stop the car and leave, but his touch was too sweet, almost intoxicating.

“Sure...” You whispered. His thumb drew circles in the back of your hand. The blush in your cheeks became more visible with every passing second .

You arrived to the place and Lucas pulled out a blanket he kept in his car. You sat down, leaving some space between both of you.

“No one had ever taken me to a park on a date.” As usual, your mouth was faster than your brain. “I mean...”

“Why are you always so adorable?” The moonlight lit up his face. Lucas was gorgeous, almost like a sculpture. “If you start feeling awkward, just let me know. I’ll take you back to the dorms and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

“I’m okay.” You looked at him with big doe eyes. “How about you?”

“I’m still trying to figure out if this is a dream or not.” His big shaky hands started playing with the blanket. After debating it for a while, you decided to finally make a move. You slowly moved to sit right in front of Lucas.

“It’s not a dream.” Before you could even regret it, you connected his lips with yours, finally being able to taste them.

Lucas didn’t waste a second. His hands flew directly to cup your cheeks. The fact that your face could fit so perfectly between his hands made him melt against your lips.

There was something so innocent about the way you kissed him, as if you didn’t have any motives other than showing your affection for him.

You accidentally bit his tongue when he tried to slip it into your mouth. He was taken aback at first, but then started laughing hysterically.

“I’m sorry!” You hid your face between your hands in embarrassment. “Chenle was right, I’m a terrible kisser.”

Lucas’ finger trapped your chin and forced you to lift your face.

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had.” The fact that his eyes were so sincere made your heart beat even faster. “Would you mind giving me another one? No tongue this time, I swear.”

You pecked his lips as fast as possible, avoiding yo embarrass yourself furthermore.

“Oh, come on. A real kiss.” He teasingly said.

You shook your head.

“Come here.” He easily moved you so you were straddling his lap, a usually sexual related position, but there was nothing impure about the way Lucas looked at you. Not yet, at least. “I’m gonna kiss you again. So don’t bite me, okay?” You nodded.

The kiss wasn’t as messy as the last one, but you still moved your lips oddly. Lucas slid his tongue successfully into your mouth this time, gently playing with yours. When he pulled away, there was drool al over your chin.

“Look at you.” He smiled fondly at you. “Let me clean you up.” He grabbed a napkin and proceeded to wipe your face as carefully as possible. “There we go, such a pretty little girl.” Lucas kissed your lips, and then your cheeks. He wanted to pepper kisses all over your body, he wanted to mark you as his, so none of your classmates would ever hit on you again.

But you were so innocent, he needed to take things slow with you. Little by little he would fulfill all of his dirtiest fantasies.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #wayv #wayv smut

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

The Inherent Risks of Loving a Wild Man

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Summary: Word about Bill Guarnere and the NCOs going to Sink reaches you, but by the time you hear it’s been so muddled with misinformation that you think he’s dead. After hearing another person saying that he’s alive, you are let with the awful task of waiting....

Warnings: no-no words (it’s hbo/war, kids. people gonna curse), allusions to sexy times, some vv lite sexy times™, angst (kinda)

~

William Guarnere was a dead man- that much you knew for sure.

The only thing you weren't sure of? 

If he was going to die by Sink’s hand or yours.

Sink, you thought ruefully to yourself, throat feeling tight again as you had an intrusive mental image of Bill crumpling to the ground after the crack of a gun. Sink has no other choice, his hands are tied.

For probably the fiftieth time that evening, you walked over to the window in the in-law unit attached to the side of the house you’d been assigned to in England. You knew better than to expect any of the NCOs to go out of their way to tell you, not with the strict curfew Sobel has imposed on them after the idiot himself led Easy astray during a training exercise.

The grandfather of the family you were staying with had told you about it in passing after coming across Dick and some others after his morning bike ride. You’d tried not to openly criticize Sobel, but when the old man mentioned a flustered soldier yelling “high-oh silver!” as he arrived late (and from the wrong direction), you hadn’t been able to hide your scowl.

“He’s going to get us killed.” Bill had grumbled to you a few days ago, after telling you about yet another catastrophic day of training. “I swear to god, Y/n, that cow-eyed bastard couldn’t find his own dick in a well-lit room—”

“I get the picture, Bill. Please don’t ever make me think about Sobel’s dick ever again.”

He’d chuckled at that, pinning your arms above your head and looking down at you with a smug grin.

“I’m awful sorry about that, Miss Y/L/N. Let me make it up to you?”

He’d kissed the air from your lungs then, and any thoughts of Sobel or death were put on the back burner….

It just seemed horribly ironic now- Sobel really was going to be the thing that gets him killed, it just hadn’t happened as straightforwardly as youd anticipated.

Headlights suddenly blind you, and your blood runs cold as you recognize it as one of the airborne’s Jeeps.

It must be Nixon, he’d tell me. Whether i want to actually hear it or not.

Your throat feels tight as the truck pulls to a stop by the front garden, and you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the figure that exits the car forgoes the direct footpath through the family’s garden, instead walking straight towards your window.

There’s only one person who does that, did that….

Throwing your window open, you stand on the desk beneath it and crawl out gracelessly, your limbs feeling disconnected from your body as you try to squash the painful hope trying to bubble in your chest.

The man stalks up to you, the light coming from your room illuminating the handsome, sharp, and perfectly alive face of Bill fucking Guarnere.

“Cara mia.”

He’s raised his hands to hold your face in his typical greeting kiss, that stupid grin bright on his face- as if he hadn’t been dead in your mind up until a few milliseconds ago. 

So, it was to be you to kill him. Okay then.

You clapped him across the face, palm stinging as you watched his head snap to the side. In the low light, you could see a pink handprint on his cheek and feel a little bad for hitting him so hard.

Then you remember why you’d hit him in the first place, and you get over it.

“What in the actual fuck were you thinking, pulling that shit?” 

Your voice is as sharp as your slap, slightly wavering as tears began to cloud your eyes.

“How could you even think about doing something so stupid, and not even bother to let me know…..and you don’t even say ‘goodbye’?” 

He said nothing, his face still turned away and his jaw working as you tried your very best not to yell and wake everyone in the main house up.

You then surprise the both of you by bursting into tears, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing so hard you forget to breathe.

His arms are quick to wrap around you, pulling you impossibly close and nosing affectionately by your ear.

“Hey, don’t cry….oh darlin’, please don’t cry,” the rumble of his voice only makes you cry harder, the sound so comforting and warm and essential, and for four horrible hours you’d tried to wrap your head around the fact that the man you loved was dead and you’d never get to hear that perfect voice again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to make you cry—”

You pull away, glaring at him tearfully. “No? What part of you either leaving the airborne- and not telling me, or getting executed for mutiny- without bothering to say anything…..What part of either of those things breaking my fucking heart are you not getting, you stupid fucking idiot?”

You shake your head, only stopping when he unwraps his arms from around you and takes your face in his hands (as he’d intended to before you smacked him).

“Did you even think about what that would do to your mother? Or your father, for that matter—?”

“I’m sorry.” he interrupts you, and when you frown at him he sighs anxiously. “Fuck, baby….”

Seeing that you weren’t going to easily forgive him, Bill wipes at your tears with his thumbs and looks at you sadly.

After standing in tense silence for a few moments, Bill pulls you into another embrace- hands hot through the material of your thermal pajama top.

“I love you.” he mumbles.

A mournful scoff escapes your throat, and he squeezes you tighter.

“Hey, listen to me...” he turns his head so he can look you in the face. Your eyes showed your doubt, and you watched as he seemed to understand just how deeply he’d hurt you.

It was uncommon for either of you to voice your affection for the other and not get an immediate echoing response, the both of you having abandoned any sort of stoicism for the other during your time in one of the Carolinas.

His dark eyes are swirling with deep regret, and you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him remorseful before. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, seeing one of the cockiest men you knew looking at you as if you held the key to his happiness. His heart.

“I. Love. You.”

You close your eyes as he repeats the sentiment, unable to bear his intense look without wanting to start crying all over again.

“I didn’t think….well,” he cuts himself off, and when you peek at him you see that he’s nodding to himself. “Nah, that’s it. I just didn’t think. I just did because—”

“I’m not mad that you refused to follow an absolute moron into war...” you interrupt, watching as his brows furrow in confusion. You bring a hand up to wipe at the sticky tears drying on your cheeks. “Bill….losing you will kill me.”

He’s shaking his head now, whispering your name harshly. “Don’t say that—”

“I have to say it because it’s the truth. And if you love me a fraction as much as i love you, you probably already know that.”

With a tired sigh you bring your hands up to rub at his chilled ears, the cold air making your breath fog between you as you speak.

“But, I also know the reality of what’s about to happen- and I’ve made my peace with it as much as I can—” “Cara mia—”

“—because i know that i’ll at least get to see you once before we drop, before all the shit hits the fan, and I’ll get to tell you I love you..... and that if by some miracle we do both make it I’m going to marry you and then we’ll never have to do anything like this again.

“But you almost took that from me.” You swallow your sadness and rest your forehead against his. “Jesus, William….”

He kisses you sweetly, and you know he can also taste the salt of your tears as he does so. Bill’s hands are running up and down your back, following paths and trails he’d first mapped with his fingers the morning after the two of you had slept together the first time.

“Say it back,” he whispers between kisses. “I need to hear you say it back—”

“I love you.”

His hands suddenly stop, and he pulls back to look you over with a furrowed brow.

“Oh shit, darlin’, you’re barely wearing anything!” With commanding hands he turns you around and starts to march you back to your window. You had forgotten that you were just in your pajamas, feet still bare on the chilled ground.

When you climbed in he followed with silent movements, barely getting the window latched before he shirks off his outer few layers and is embracing you again, torso warm and inviting when you held him again.

“I’m gonna be pissed if you get sick, you know that right?”

He’s teasing you again, but his voice still is soft from emotion.

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, Bill. I know….”

He turns his head before your next kiss lands on his cheek, resuming the sweet kiss from outside.

When you nibble at his bottom lip he groans softly, one hand knotting in your hair while the other one slid down to your backside and kneaded the supple flesh of your bottom with a hungry grip.

“You want some more, baby?” Bill’s voice has taken on a rough quality that never failed to make your heart beat faster and your stomach to curl sweetly. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?”

You shut him up with a kiss, knowing from experience that once Bill got talking like this there was only so much you could take before becoming a flustered and needy mess.

Bill takes the hint, only breaking away from you to quickly pull your shirt over your head before ducking right back in. the material of his button up is rough against your bare nipples, the peaks harder than stone ever since you’d first stepped out into the chilly night air.

His hands drew goosebumps across your back as he brushed his fingers up and down your spine, worshipping you in such a way that made all your teenage years of self-consciousness seem preposterous in hindsight.

“Fucking goddess,” he’d proclaimed once between hot open mouth kisses across your collarbones after you’d both come down from your third orgasm of the night. “If I had my way, you’d never have to cover a single goddamned inch of your body from me. Could fucking taste you whenever i wanted…”

When your hand cups him through his pants he hisses, laughing headily into your mouth.

“I’m still mad at you.” you say, pulling back so you can watch his face scrunch up attractively as you massage his stiffness.

He nods, eyes closed  as his jaw goes slack. You can’t help but feel somewhat smug at being able to elicit such a reaction from such a fiery man.

“Thought I was ‘sposed ta be taking care of you, darlin’....”

You hum, walking him backwards so the back of his knees hit your mattress. 

“Maybe I want you to suffer a little bit,” you offer as you press on his shoulder to make him sit down before you. He looks up at you, eyes heavy and breathing rough.

There’s now a clear handprint on his cheek from where you slapped him, and some flicker of sadness must show in your eyes because one of the hands that had begun tugging your pajama bottoms down your legs comes up to take the hand you’d hit him with and he kisses at your fingers sweetly.

“I’m okay with some sufferin’, ‘s long as you’re the one dealin’ it.”

You fist his hair and duck down to kiss him urgently, letting him help you step from the clothes around your ankles so you can straddle his lap. 

“C’mon, baby….I can take it.”

You respond by craning his head back and placing biting kisses down his throat.

Because as wild as Bill Guarnere was, you were still the one who’d tamed him.

And he wouldn’t just do that for anyone.

You were going to be sure he remembered that.

Even if it took all night.

(Hey kids, wrote this while trying to get through writers block a little bittle ago, and there is a part 2, so holler at ya girl if yall’er (: interested ok thank your bye)

(ALSO! I saw someone else describe Sobel as ‘cow-eyed’ in a different fic. I’m trying to find it so I can give the author credit (bc it’s a perfect description!), but if any of you guys know which one i’m talking about just dm me and i’ll link it!)

(ALSO PART TWO: let me know if you’re interested in being tagged on any future garbage I write!)

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #bill guarnere x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography

[warmau]

Detective!AU x NCT DREAM

renjun: *opens a powerpoint titled: why nancy drew is the best fictional detective and the hardy boys aint sh-* | other dream aus

Haechan

overzealous and flashy 

refuses to take on any case that isn’t “high-profile” 

no finding neighborhood lost pets or who stole your lunch money, haechan wants to be on a nationwide case - he wants the news to follow his every step 

“huh? what? you want me to find your stolen watch? do you not understand that your watch is not a korean national treasure and therefore who cares if it gets stolen?”

looks well put together, but his desk is a mess of papers and candy wrappers

has an ongoing rivalry with local policeman mark lee 

not that mark lee even knows about this rivalry, for the most part he’s nice to haechan but haechan is just like “im onto you markus” and mark is like ,,,,,,huh?

you’re a reporter who has (on many occasions) covered haechan’s cases

to be fair, you’re probably the only person whose on the same level of sarcastic as him 

so when he makes some kind of comment or quip you either blankly stare at him unamused or shoot one right back

your conversations are actually quite fun to watch

you’ll show up at his agency, with your camera and notepad

and he’ll be like 

“took you long enough”

“oh - were you counting down the seconds to see me?”

“in your dreams~”

“i don’t dream. anyway - tell us about this murder, who are your suspects?”

other reporters find haechan a bit hard to work with and mumble that his attitude really needs to be fixed

but you disagree - in this kind of work you have to be sort of dry-humored and unattached

but you could do without his bragging when he does indeed solve the case

like today, when you and a bunch of other reporters have gathered outside of a large building in downtown seoul

haechan standing proudly at the front with a disgruntled looking businessman in handcuffs

haechan snaps his fingers and exclaims

“only i was smart enough to guess that the company’s own treasurer was embezzling money! the police and citizens assumed it was the ceo, but - as always my wits have proved everyone wrong!”

a wave of groans passes through the reporters, but you take it as a chance to ask haechan some questions

“how did you know it was him?”

“the evidence was in his text messages with foreign advisers.”

“how did you get access to them?”

“well as you know you can call a cellphone pro-”

as haechan is answering you hear some muttering behind you, nasty and mean words sprouting up about how haechan should stop acting like he did all the work

how he probably got tipped off

you’re a journalist, so the juicier the story - the better the paycheck

but you’re not one to just smear people - and what makes it worse is that you can tell haechan heard it

but he’s answering your question - trying to focus on you

so you decide to take it upon yourself to shut the reports behind you up

you clear your throat, pulling the mic back a bit hastily - nearly elbowing the asshole behind you

“and i heard, you did, in fact, work this alone - as reported weeks ago - the police had the wrong lead?”

haechan’s eyes spark up when he realizes you’re setting him up to dispell all the festering rumors starting to spread behind your backs

he grins and nods, “yes - most journalists even said that it was uncanny for me and the police to be on such different paths. i guess you can say, i have my own genius.”

you want to roll your eyes - as haechan continues to lay it on thick about his victory

but with every word - the lesser reporters behind you crumble under their own words

when the press conference ends, the culprit is wheeled off in a cop car, and you’re left on the sidewalk - checking over your notes

you feel haechan hang his chin over your shoulder

“i thought you hated it when i bragged?”

you look a little to your side and see his beautiful, big smile

“not when you’re telling the truth.”

“oh c’mon, just admit it - you kinda like my confidence?”

he taps a hand on your shoulder and grins as you playfully jab at his cheek with your pen

but you think, maybe he is right 

confidence really does look so good on him,,,,,,,,,,,

Jaemin

tipsy, topsy, turvy - mad scientist like detective 

with an abundance of weird jokes only he understands and absolutely unexplainable solutions to headscratcher cases

if it can’t be solved, no matter how you shake it, you have to call jaemin

who enjoys not only dressing the part - i.e. ridiculous hats and oversized trench coats

as much as he enjoys getting himself in trouble while trying to solve a crime

“how did you know the criminal took this back alley detective na?!”

“well simple, i climbed on through an open window and took it myself!”

“,,,,,,,,, detective - are you admitting to trespassing?!?!”

the conundrums he finds himself far overshadow silly sherlock holmes stories

and unlike fiction, sometimes - he gets in over his head

which is where you come in

you’re a young, brand new, fresh-outta-law-school attorney

who jaemin never really hired - you just happened to be around when he needed some “legal representation”

[he had maybe, kinda, illegally ‘borrowed’ a civilians car in a chase after a notorious murderer and that ‘borrowed’ car ended up kind of ,,,,,,,,,, on fire? haha does it really matter? the murderer was caught!]

you had saved his butt from a lawsuit with a lot of buttering up and finesse

and jaemin had appointed you his “guardian angel!”

“lawyer, im your lawyer jaemin”

“same thing! now let me solve the mystery of where your halo went~”

he looooooooooves to tease you

if he can take a moment out of his day to say something flirty and fun to you - he will

regardless of the circumstances

im talking you’re in front of a judge in a courtroom and jaemin leans his lanky body over you to be like

“ooo is this a new necklace, who's giving you these gifts?~ i thought you were mine!”

the judge, the other attorneys, the guards: um do yall need a room

you, tomato red: NO

jaemin: we shall take one! :)

you end up at the scene of one of jaemin’s infamous “i caught the killer, but i had to kinda do a bad thing!” situations

you stroll in, shaking your head already

am i going to have to defend him from another angry car owner? did he forget that impersonating a police officer is against the law - again?

but instead, you find sirens of an ambulance blaring and medics 

you look around, trying to find jaemin in the crowd of uniforms 

he always sticks out, and sometimes he finds you first

but no one calls out your name 

so you ask a nearby EMT where jaemin is, and he points you to the back of an ambulance

your blood goes cold and you rush toward it, seeing a familiar long body laid out on the white gurney

“jaemin?!” 

you drop your bag - hands shaking 

“a-are you - did- did you - did you get yourself kill-”

his eyes spark open and he sits up, a bandaged cut on his cheek, but otherwise nothing else as he smiles at you 

“you’re here! did you see - i caught the stranger of daeg-”

“you scared me! for real this time!”

he stops, blinking and tilting his head, “for real?”

“what would i do if your antics actually got you kill-kill -”

you can’t even say it, tears welling up in your eyes just at the thought of having run into this ambulance to see him laying there

cold, unmoving

you can’t imagine it, your shoulders shaking now and jaemin leans out - hand on yours

“i would never be stupid enough to die without your permission, i promise.”

speechless, throwing your arms around him without really thinking about it

jaemin feels his heart swell, unsure of where to put his own hands

when someone knocks on the ambulance door

it opens, and you see the familiar grimace of the chief of police

“hello detective na, would you like to explain to your attorney why someone is accusing you of another act of thievery?”

you let go of jaemin and try to wipe back your tears, the police chief is about to say another word but you put your hand up

“my client will only answer questions after his hospital visit.”

jaemin nods from behind you, big pearly grin on his face

the police - used to this - back off for now and you turn to jaemin

“how am i going to get you out of this now?”

“you always find a way! that’s why i love you.”

Renjun

studious, scrutinizing, and some would even say a little scary

he’s got a reputation as a ‘mind breaker’, twisting and pressing criminals with his words until they crack

on the outside, he looks rather adorable - slim and always in his sunday best 

neat notebooks for notes, color-coded folders for cases

he’s a joy to work with - if you only have to work with him briefly

if you end up on a case with him for a long time, you come to realize you cannot keep up with his level of perfection

and sometimes, it does feel like he’s looking down on others for it

but he’s not, he was just trained to always see every detail through 

you find yourself at the center of a huge investigation, the cause of renjun’s obsession for the past couple of months

you aren’t even sure how you’re involved 

just that the cafe you worked at had in one way or another been a meetup between famous city mobsters

renjun stops by, like clockwork, an hour before closing - waiting and hoping that the mobsters show themselves

that he can pick up another clue, nitpick from the coffee cups and the napkins 

you don’t mind him, even if he does meddle, and never finishes the coffee you bring him

at some point, you aren’t really sure what he’s looking for anymore - because it’s been weeks 

weeks and you’re pretty sure this case was closed

you stare down at the newspaper that gets thrown at the foot of the cafe’s doorstep

you pick it up - the headlines read how the trial of those mobsters has come to an end

so why is detective renjun still always stopping by? it isn’t for the coffee - afterall he doesn’t seem to enjoy it all that much,,,,,,,,,

one day - just as he gets up to leave after spending an hour doing whatever it is he does in the corner table by the window

you stop him before he can bound out the door

“detective renjun-”

“renjun is just fine, im not on the job.”

you pause - never noticing that up close, when he’s not always nose deep in a book - he is rather handsome

“ah - well, renjun - i was just wondering,,,,,and i don’t mean to be rude! but is there a new case you’re working in the cafe or-”

he seems to catch onto what you’re asking and he straightens up a little

“you could call it that. im just doing some observation.”

“oh! on what?”

you look around, the cafe empty now that closing time is approaching in a few minutes

the loaves of bread, the muffins and coffee presses don’t seem all that worthy of observation

“on you.”

you almost don’t catch it, with the quiet voice he uses

but when your eyes meet his again, you waiver

“on - me? am i suspect in a -”

he laughs, “not everything is about solving cases to me. i just,,,,,”

for the first time he stumbles over the right words

always careful, put together, and otherwise beyond perfect - renjun wants to make sure he says the right thing

but there’s only really one thing to say.

“i just like you.”

Jeno

newbie sleuth of the local neighborhood!

don’t get him wrong, finding lost pets and hunting down the towns vandal are just as important as stopping bank robbers and kidnappers

sorta

a lot of the “cases” he solves are brought to him by local kids, holding scribbled doodles of their missing toys or from parents who just want to know WHO is blasting that music at 3 am? 

(this was fairly easy to solve, as jeno had walked down the street to the local college house and knocked - asking if there was a party last week. a tall, happy-go-lucky guy named johnny had answered - and confirmed! there was a party last week, did you hear his friend mark’s mixtape from down the block? did he dig it? did he want mark’s soundcloud link?)

really, he calls himself a detective for fun

he’s just always loved puzzles and thrillers since he was young so he thought if he ever had some free time he could,,,,,,,you know,,,,,,help figure out solutions to life’s little puzzles and thrills instead

but - low and behold - he is not ready for the puzzle that is YOU

you move into his neighborhood and on day one you get yourself into trouble

running down the block with stolen goods from the local shop, an apple between your teeth and hands full of various fruits and baked goods

the next time jeno sees you, you’re twirling three sets of keys around your fingers

for cars,,,,,,,,,,jeno is pretty sure cost way more than either you or him can even imagine

he keeps seeing you everywhere, doing this absolutely ridiculous things 

and then finally - he bumps into you when crossing the street

and minutes later he can’t find his wallet

he turns - chasing you down the block, accusing you all the way of being the towns illustrious thief 

but you just turn and shrug, emptying your pockets

“i dont have your wallet - did you check your back pocket?”

to his surprise, and utter embarrassment, that’s exactly where his wallet is

but there’s something sticking out of it now - a piece of paper

he opens it and scribbled on it are the words

‘i thought you were a detective?’

he looks up at your smile and furrows his eyebrows

“i-what does this mean?”

“well, i thought you were a detective - so why haven’t you solved the biggest mystery yet.”

he doesn’t seem to catch on, a cute look of confusion spreading across his face

“what biggest mystery?”

“well - that would be who stole your heart!”

he flusters, “m-my heart?”

“yeah! your heart! who stole it lee jeno, c’mon - you’re a detective!”

he looks beyond dumbfounded 

and then he straightens up 

you tilt your head a little, and jeno feels something in his chest flutter

oh

“you?”

“did i?”

your voice sing songs and jeno can’t be sure, but the way your eyes spark up with delight makes a feeling he can’t explain wash over him

am i going crazy, or did they just figure out i had a crush on them before i did?!?

Chenle & Jisung

ones fearless but clumsy, the other is easily terrified and somehow,,,,,,,even more clumsy

but hey they’re just best friends who decided that instead of going to the academy 

they’d just start their own private investigation business

too bad none of them really understand how to run a business, so the only way they’re kept afloat is by tireless accountant mark lee’s efforts

either way, they both bring strengths to their problem solving

chenle will take on ANY case, ANY place, ANY time

and would probably fall down a trapdoor 

while jisung is slightly more reserved about stepping into old, haunted houses or listening to tall tales from random people on the street

though he would also fall down a trapdoor

and although other people wouldn't take on cases that involve the paranormal 

and jisung is not a big fan  

when you come to the agency with a request about a presumed ghost encounter

chenle insists you came to the right place, jisung looks a little pale

and thats how you end up beside both of them - the dead of the night - in front of your old middle school

chenle asks if you’re a teacher here now, but you shake your head - actually you were just visiting because it had been the yearly reunion in honor of a young boy who had died tragically at the school when you were a student

“creepy!” chenle says, eyes sparkling

“creepy,,,,,,,” jisung agrees, swallowing

the three of you venture inside, you’d managed to convince an old teacher for the keys, and begin down the long and dark hallway

chenle peeks into classrooms and stops to read bulletin boards

jisung just sticks shoulder to you

“so how did he die?” chenle asks and you’re about to answer

when a creaking of the floorboard takes all the attention

an outlined figure appears, face shadowed but body small - leg limping

“it’s him!” you whisper “the limp, it’s from the crash-”

you turn and look at-

chenle, who fearlessly moves toward the child

you join in behind him as jisung stays stuck in place with fear

“are you a ghost? did something about your death leave you scornful toward the school? come here, i just want to talk-”

chenle begins as you cautiously warn that being so upfront could come of rude

the child, whose face is still hidden, lifts his hand slowly and extends one finger 

chenle follows the trajectory and gasps, “he’s pointing at you!”

your blood turns cold and you want to ask - why, you hardly even knew him when you were both students here so -

but then just as chenle is about to put a hand on your shoulder, something heaves below you two and the floorboards below your feet moan

“they’re going to give!”

“wh-”

chenle’s hand takes a hold of your waist now, pushing you into him as he teeters back until he himself falls through the figure that disappears in a cloud of smoke

the floorboard where you’d been standing collapses down and you cling to the front of chenle’s jacket as you watch

“i-i think that ghost has it out for you-”

he starts, but his voice softens as he sees your shoulders trembling

for the first time, and believe me he’s seen freaked out people a lot, he stops himself mid sentence and just lets you curl up into his side

jisung’s voice is the one thing that breaks you two from the moment as he yells you guys need to get out of here. NOW.

chenle agrees, but you’re wobbly on your feet up and so he takes your hand in his and smiles

“c’mon - even im not crazy enough to provoke an angry ghost. we can solve this mystery when we’re safe.”

you nod, letting him lead you back outside where your hands never leave each other and thank god jisung doesn’t care (or is scared out of his mind) to notice

jisung, whose eyes have gone large 

“chenle don’t go near it!”

he shouts, turning his attention to you

“and if that really is the ghost we should-”

“it’s pointing at you!”

you whip your head back around to see that the figure has raised one, thin finger in your direction

your body feels rigid and you take a step back

chenle just ventures forward, asking the spirit question after question, but it ignores him

instead - in what seems like a second - the figure has moved halfway down the hall toward you and jisung

you scream and jisung can’t believe it but he realizes fast that he’s going to have to be the fearless one in this situation

instead of booking it himself, which is usually the way these things go, he grabs you and yanks you behind him

you guys make a dash for the front door, and when you turn around you can see the ghost is still dauntingly coming closer

jisung does the mistake of looking too, and just as you’re about to get to the door - the ghosts face comes to life a little in the moonlight tricking through the window

you and jisung both scream at the bloody mess - jisung tripping over his own feet as you fall right behind him

the door is still open so you two are a tumble of arms and legs as you roll out into the night air

but as you get up - you find your blow was cushioned by jisung

“so-sorr-”

“no time for apologies, ghost trying to kill you.”

you nod and both of you get up and continue running

chenle is behind you guys, but he’s laughing and shouting about how it was a GHOST - a REAL GHOST - 

you’re frankly too terrified to think about it and thats when you feel jisung’s palm squeeze yours

‘don’t be scared, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”

you feel something in your chest warm and you agree - jisung feels it too, the bashful look of embarrassment that comes over you is almost enough to make him feel like your hero

but the truth is 

he’s still very scared and protecting you is one thing, but making sure he also doesnt get caught by a vengeful ghost is also pretty high up there

and chenle’s insolent “we have to go back sometime!” is NOT helping

#this was what i wanted to finish in time for renjun day but F #nct dream scenarios #nct dream au #nct dream imagines #nct dream #haechan scenarios #renjun scenarios #jaemin scenarios #jeno scenarios #chenle scenarios #jisung scenarios #sfw #jaemin au #jeno au #renjun au #chenle au #jisung au #haechan au

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

[Part 3 of ???]

The Lost Civilization

//Baozhai is doodling in a notebook. She drew a picture of the stranger aka Flint with little hearts draw around him.//

Baozhai, sighs in admiration: you're the most handsome man I've ever seen..

Cletus: Why thank you! I always did fancy myself as good-looking.

Baozhai, glares at Cletus: Not you! I'm talking about the stranger I saw from yesterday..

Cletus: Which one?

Baozhai: The handsome one..~

Cletus: ...

Cletus: Erik?

Baozhai: no!

Cletus: Sao?

Baozhai: No... The one that I felt I had a close connection to..

Cletus: Oooh! I know who you're talking about... The Captain is gonna be real mad if he finds out you're attracted to Haggis.

Baozhai: WHAT?! NO! NOT HIM! GROSS DEFINITELY NOT HIM!

Cletus: Well, then who is it?

Baozhai: I don't really know his name..

Cletus: If you don't know who the fuck it is, how am I supposed to know??

Baozhai, frustrated as hell by this point but somehow manages to stay calm: I'm talking about the guy that... Punched me in the face..

Cletus: Oooh... I already knew that I was just fucking with ya' *snickers*

//Baozhai punches Cletus in the stomach. Cletus falls the floor. He groans in pain as he clenches his stomach. Noëmie walks up to Baozhai and lightly taps her shoulder.//

Noëmie: Um.. Baozhai?

Baozhai, turns to Noëmie and annoyed: What do you want Noëmie?

Noëmie: I know almost everyone you talked to about your love interest isn't going to well... But uh, maybe the next time you see him, try to, I dunno... Get to know him more and tell him about yourself..?

Baozhai: ...

Baozhai: Noëmie... did you just give me advice about love?

Noëmie: Um, I think so..?

Baozhai: ...

Noëmie: ...

//Baozhai hugs Noëmie and twirls her around in her arms.//

Baozhai: Noëmie, you're a genius! That's a wonderful idea!

Noëmie: oh my, well, thank you!

Baozhai: Yes, I'll charm him! Flatter him! Make him mine! And if he doesn't accept it... I'LL RIP OUT HIS SPINE, GOUGE HIS EYES WITH A RUSTY NAIL, AND-

Noëmie, cutting her off: How about you don't do any of that brutalizing stuff..

Baozhai, genuinely confused: Why..?

Noëmie: Well if you love someone, you can't threaten them with violence and maiming. Especially when they don't accept your feelings.

Baozhai: Then, what do I do..?

Noëmie: Cry it out, accept thats how they feel, and move on.

Baozhai: That sounds good.. but what if I keep bothering him-

Noëmie: what-

Baozhai: keep professing my love to him-

Noëmie: wait-

Baozhai: and I'll make him mine..! I am such a genius!

Noëmie: Please don't do any of that..

Baozhai: Don't worry Noëmie, I won't do any of that unless he loves me back. You have nothing to fear! Because I am the master of charm 😏 oh! I better go practice putting on makeup.. since I don't really know how.

//Baozhai runs off to another part of the ship.//

Noëmie: ...

Noëmie, shakes head: This is going to end horribly.. I just know it is.

Islay, walking up behind her: You really shouldn't have said those things. Don't ya' realize the captain will take issue with her falling for one of Haggis's crewmates???

Noëmie: Oh dear! How could I forget their fueding..! I hope this infatuation is minor with Baozhai. Who knows what'll happen if the stranger falls in love with her too!

Islay: oh please, you don't need to worry about that. Baozhai has the literal sex appeal of a boat crash. It looks terrible but you just can't look away. I don't mean to insult her but it is true. Can't see any men or women falling in love with her personality or looks. And knowing Baozhai, she's going to do something stupid and dangerous to get his affection.

Noëmie: I mean she is rather distasteful at times but I wouldn't call her that...

Islay: This better not cause any issues. The captain already has enough on his plate with Haggis nearly killing him. But if it does, this'll be on your hands for getting those ideas into her head!

Noëmie: okay..

//Islay goes to help Cletus off the ground. She puts the injured man over her shoulder and proceeds to walk towards the hold. Leaving Noëmie alone on the deck. The dark grey canid poundered for a bit.//

Noëmie: I mean, it's not like Haggis and his crew are following us... Right..?

//And Noëmie couldn't have been more wrong. Because in fact, they were following right behind them... On Haggis's ship, they managed to fix up the hole that Bonnet had caused previously. Haggis was still pissed that Bonnet did that to his ship. He was getting revenge and they were going to pay with their blood. As Haggis navigated the ship, on the deck were Flint and Billy, swabbing the deck.//

Billy, looked over to Flint: So, you and that loony crewmate of Bonnet's... Kinda odd that they stared at you for a pretty long time.

Flint: Mhm.

Billy: ...

Billy: Not gonna say anything about that?

Flint: Whatever happened between me and that man was minor. So, no, I don't have anything to say about it.

Billy: Flint... That was a woman.

Flint, stops swabbing and looks at Billy: what?

Billy: That was a woman. That you also happened to punch. In the face.

Flint: Oh... Well, too late to take it back now.

//Flint walked towards the bucket of water. As he went to dip the mop into the bucket of water, Erik stepped in front of the path of the cabin boy.//

Erik: Hello Flinty~!

Flint: Erik. How disappointing to see you.

Erik: Oh you're such a charmer! Wonder if your little girlfriend thinks so too! *Chuckles*

Flint: What the hell are you taking about?

Erik: Heh, You think nobody noticed you and that little wench making goo-goo eyes at each other?? Because boy, everyone's been talkin about it!

Flint: First of all, he's- I mean, she's not my girlfriend. And secondly, I wasn't making "goo-goo" eyes at anyone. Especially towards someone who looks like they got their nose done by the front door.

Erik: hmm.. well, it'd be a real shame if someone told the captain about those rumors about you and that girl.. and told him they were true. Meaning you'd get punished some more for coercing with the enemy..😏

Flint, rolls his eyes: you want something don't you. Of course you do, I already know you too well... Now tell me what is it???

Erik, grinning: Give me half of yer loot when we find the treasure and I'll keep my mouth shut.

Flint: what if we don't find the treasure??

Erik: Then, I guess I'll have to tell the captain. Too bad you've barely gained his trust from the time you spent on this ship..

Flint: Just in case you didn't know, I loathe everything about you.

Erik, chuckles: Hehe, I know. So do we have a deal..?

Flint, sighs: what other choice do I even have..

Sao, interrupting their conversation: LAND HO!

//The crewmates put their attention forward. A few miles away from them was a planet with lush jungles and plants. Beaches with golden sand with oceans that seem so crystal clear you can see right through them. Not too far in a distance were tall golden buildings, along with statues of different deities. The ship came to a stop, landing near the sandy beaches.//

Captain Haggis, shocked: I can't believe it..

Sao: what is it captain..?

Captain Haggis: Don't you see it... This is the lost civilization of the Paititi! A city that has tons of gold hidden somewhere to prevent colonizers from stealing it..

//Haggis looks through a telescope. He looked towards where Bonnet's ship had landed. He saw Bonnet, what looked like giving his crew orders. Bonnet then pulled out several maps and passed them out to each of his crewmates. Haggis chuckled darkly.//

Captain Haggis: Too bad the "gentleman pirate" and his crew won't be as much as getting a dabloon of that treasure.. Sao, round up the crew and get them ready. I'm making sure they don't leave this place... Alive.

Sao: Yes Captain! Right away!

//Sao made her way down towards where the rest of the crewmates were.//

Sao: Alright everyone, Captain says to get ready.. we're going treasure hunting!

//The crew cheered with joy. Some lifting their swords and flintlock pistols in the air.

Meanwhile on Bonnet's ship, he finished giving out the maps to the rest of his crew.//

Captain Bonnet: Alright with these maps we can all split up into two pairs. They show where hidden booby traps are and how to get to the treasure.

Ironbeard: this all seems like a good idea captain but uh, why are you splitting us up into pairs exactly..?

Captain Bonnet: Because I think I'd be a much more quick and efficient way to do so! And also the twins have been freaking me out lately..

//Ironbeard and Bonnet turn their heads towards the Solace twins. The twins slowly crept their heads towards the rest of the the crewmates. They were holding hands and were side by side to each other. Their eyes looked soulless as they stared at the others.//

Solace twins: A horrible fate awaits to whoever dares to awake the beast's slumber from inside the depths of hell and they'll bring misfortune and misery if awoken.

Ironbeard: ...

Ironbeard: Yeah I guess I can see why.

((Bonnet, Baozhai, Noëmie, Cletus, Islay, and the Solace twins belong to me!

Haggis, Sao, and Erik belong to @chaossmith2))

#treasure planet #oc insert #treasure planet au

[bjy-on-ao3]

Fic Friday: Needy, Part 2

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

If you came to this fic looking for smut, this is where you’ll be getting it. Some teasing lead-up still, but it’s related well enough, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Kinda sorta little bits of feelings and fluff sprinkled in? Idk.

Part 1

Tags/Warnings Begging, Dirty Talk, Masturbation, Oral Sex, PWP, Shameless Smut, Slight Fluff, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex

Summary Reader’s jealousy over the attention Izaya gives to everyone else finally comes to a head one evening. They discover it hasn't exactly been a secret to the information broker.

Needy (F! Reader/Izaya Orihara)

Chapter 2. Feed the Beast

When Izaya returned, the daylight hours were winding to a close and the sun was sneaking beneath the horizon of the cityscape, painting the world in angry reds and golds. A fitting backdrop to the fiery emotions that had taken root in your chest. Stretched out on the couch with a book that was only remotely interesting in your lap, the sound of the door immediately drew your attention. When you looked up from the pages, he looked as unrushed and unconcerned as he always did.

“Do anything fun while I was out?” Izaya asked casually, brushing past the couch - hardly paying you mind more than his words - and moving to sit at his desk.

You snapped the book in your hand shut loudly and rose to put it back in the bookcase before you looked over to answer him. “Hm,” you paused as if you had much to consider when you’d done mostly nothing for the day, save for your brief trip into town, “just a walk around Ikebukuro. Checking out the usual chaos,” you said as you fitted the book into its slot. You stepped back toward the sofa and Izaya’s desk. “Didn’t see anything particularly intriguing. Things seem… quiet.”

“Looks can be deceiving, my dear,” Izaya chided, gesturing with a finger. You noticed he was facing you as he spoke, instead of surveying his computer monitor as usual lately. His demeanor shifted, his grin dipping slightly. “Something on your mind?” He asked. You weren’t sure if the concern in his tone was genuine.

“No, it’s nothing. Get back to your work,” you tried to convince him, as if your words and a dismissive wave of your hand would put an end to the line of thought. “I’m sure plenty of people are waiting to hear from you.” You hated the pettiness clawing at your breast when you spoke. Worse, it bled through in your tone.

“Oh, is that so?” Izaya appeared suddenly far more interested in you, eyes narrowing in a calculating manner and one eyebrow arching gracefully. “What’s that I hear in your voice, darling? It almost sounded like jealousy,” he prodded, and you only barely caught the excited undercurrent in his speech.

“You’re hearing things,” you denied flatly, though you cursed the way your nostrils flared and the sourness tainting your voice.

“Hm, I don’t know.” It was hard to miss the feigned uncertainty in Izaya’s voice as he got to his feet. It was always a case to be cautious when Izaya played dumb.

Coming to stand by the full-length windows, you refused to meet his eyes, answering your reflection in the glass, speech short and clipped. “Yes, I’m sure. Go on. Nothing’s wrong.”

When Izaya spoke again, he was at your side, hooking his thumb and forefinger beneath your jaw and coaxing you to turn your head and look at him. “You’re so cute when you try to lie to me,” he said in an amused hush.

Despite the way your heart stuttered in your chest, you remained firm in your denial. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean.”

There was not a single trace of malice or irritation on Izaya’s handsome face as you lied through your teeth to him. But something sharp and mischievous glittered back at you from his intent stare. “Do you think I haven’t noticed?”

Anger seethed white-hot in your stomach and you balled your hands into fists at your sides, remembering how much he had ignored you over the past days. How hints you thought blatantly obvious had been left by the wayside without so much as a word, while Izaya entrenched himself in his work. Or at least what excuses amounted to work, if what you had seen earlier that day was any sign. “Oh please, you’ve been too busy with everyone but me to notice anything,” you snapped.

His sly chuckle in response made your belly twist angrily once more. “I thought you knew me better than that, darling. I know just how needy you are.” He leaned in closer as he spoke, voice dripping amusement but taking on a breathy note. “How greedy you are for my attention.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke and your anger floundered and died, overcome by a fluttering, hopeful buzz. 

His lips didn’t seal over yours like you so very much wanted them to, and it left you feeling electrified and tense. The breath in your throat felt like a solid lump and you didn’t dare let it go. Izaya coaxed you backward, one hand pushing lightly into your shoulder, steering you until the solid plane of the window met you. The hand on your shoulder slipped aside, splaying over the glass beside your head.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s gotten you so agitated? Tell me what you’ve missed so much.” His voice was hardly greater than a whisper, but your burning ears caught every steadily more playful word. “After all, you want my attention so badly for some reason, don’t you?”

The sultry hint in his voice in the last few words made it even more difficult to breathe than it had been already. Your blood burned like fire that infused your skin and bubbled your brain. “I…” you began, the lone word breathless and hesitant. 

Far gone was the indignant ball of jealousy and anger that stood before Izaya only moments ago. Here he was, clinging to every little word and flicker of emotion as you had desired, only for the courage to answer him to flee at from same intense focus.

“Don’t bother acting shy,” Izaya warned you. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another.” His voice dropped huskily, and you shivered as the thumb on your jaw stroked gently over your skin to accompany his words.

“I’ve missed your touch,” you said, swallowing to clear your throat, the words coming out like a gasp.

“Oh?” The single syllable dripped with faux-shock. “Where? Here?” The hand on your jaw caressed the line of your neck lower and lower until it touched the exposed bits of your collarbone.

Your breath caught again with Izaya’s face still so close to yours, his half-lidded gaze surveying each tiny detail. Or rather, it was more the intensity nearly made you forget to breathe at all combined with his light touch. “What about here?” His wandering hand slid down, stopping at the hem of your shirt before sneaking beneath it and delicately caressing your torso up and down, stopping at the curve of your waist.

A small whimper left your lips and Izaya’s knowing grin split a little wider. But he hadn’t gotten what he was after yet, judging by the gleam in his eyes. “Not it? Why don’t you show me then?” He suggested, rubbing small circles on your waist.

Flushing at the thought, you looked away from his keen gaze and wet your lips apprehensively. Izaya finding enjoyment in flustering you was nothing new, but somehow what he asked seemed mortifying. He remained there, waiting patiently and showing no sign of letting you get away without demonstrating where you craved his touch.

Tentatively, you slid a hand to the waistband of your pants, pushing them and your panties down enough Izaya could see as you slipped your fingers between your legs. Your face felt hotter than the sun-baked sidewalk outside, and when you looked back into Izaya’s ruddy eyes, your body burned elsewhere. A wave of warmth surged between your thighs as you dipped your fingers into your folds, already slick and dripping into your underwear.

His gaze was ardent, attention engrossed in the motion of your hand and alight with excitement. “Mm, there? How obscene!” His tone wavered with pretended surprise, as if he were aghast at your lewd behavior. You had known Izaya long enough to know he loved to make a show of things though. Nor did you think he was even close to done. “And just how have you been wanting me to touch you? What have you been hoping I’d do to you?” His words tickled your ear, his cheek feeling cool as it pressed against yours.

“Izaya, please…” you begged, still embarrassed to carry on, even when your pussy was throbbing in time with your heart and coating your fingertips.

“No need to get embarrassed now,” he teased, encouraging you with a lazy lick to the shell of your ear. “Seems like you’ve had plenty of time to think about. I bet it’s been driving you crazy.”

“I…” you began again, bordering on the choice of dignity or desire. 

He was right, and you both loved and hated it. It had been driving you mad in so many definitions of the word. Izaya was leaving you little choice but to admit it and indulge his ego. But if it was that or go back to being ignored, the choice had already made itself.

Choosing the heat between your legs and the thrum of anticipation flooding you, you shifted your pants and panties further down, working your finger up and down your slit, stopping at the top and rubbing gingerly. “Yes, it’s, aah, all I can think about lately,” you confessed, the sensation of your fingers on your clit accented by the touch of Izaya’s mouth on your jawline making you pause and whine.

A breathy hum acknowledged your confession. “I thought so.” He always sounded self-assured, even in heated moments. “Have you been thinking about it while you watched me work?” Izaya pressed, looking you in lust-clouded eyes. ”Or maybe when you were spying on me in Ikebukuro earlier? Don’t think I missed that,” he hissed deviously.

You shuddered and flushed, continuing to stroke yourself, only able to manage a nod of confirmation as another whimper rendered you wordless. “I know how desperately you’ve wanted me to have my way with you again.” You rubbed yourself more urgently in the wake of his words, adding another finger and pausing only to ease them both shallowly inside your cunt.

You didn’t bother to stop when you spoke again, moving your fingers in and out slowly, absorbed in touching yourself for Izaya now that you had begun. “So, w-what?” Your voice wavered and nearly cracked, hardly managing the venom you wanted, “Ignoring me was just another, aah, game?”

His hand on your waist fell smoothly, joining your hand inside your underwear and trailing a slender finger along your folds as you finger-fucked yourself. “Maybe I just wanted to see you admit how much you wanted me,” Izaya answered with a wider smirk, placing a quick ghost of a kiss on your slightly parted lips. “But it’s been so much fun watching you pout thinking I wasn’t paying any mind, wondering what you’d do next.”

You thought back on the morning through the distraction. How Izaya had so casually acted as if he hadn’t been listening, how he had pretended to pause and consider your words, and how he had let his fingers briefly linger on your shoulder. Had the entire thing and the days before been an act? Just how long had it been going on?

“I-Izaya, stop teasing me,” you groaned as he gave you another quick kiss before peppering your jaw and neck with pecks that were equally light and quick. His fingers moved to your clit, left alone in favor of crooking your fingers inside your cunt, rubbing over it agonizingly slowly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He asked, “Besides, you seem like you’re enjoying yourself,” he noted as you panted, thrusting your fingers into your heat more frantically as the combined touches pushed you higher. “Unless there’s something else you’ve been thinking about?”

It was getting harder and harder to think, let alone speak, and you cursed quietly, incoherently. “Don’t… don’t make me say it,” you argued.

“Mm, how else am I supposed to know?” He said coyly, acting as if he wasn’t able to read most people like an open book.

“F-fuck. Like how… you know… everything else,” you gasped, a touch of irritation rising among the meek tone. You bucked your hips, feeling the tension expanding, the point of no return so close it was nearly tangible.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere. You’ll just have to tell me. Or maybe I should just go back to work?”

His hand stopped, and he grabbed your wrist, pulling your fingers away. You whined petulantly, reflexively trying to jerk your hand out of his grasp and return to what you had been doing. But Izaya’s grip held fast, and when you focused on his face, his expression was far too pleased, like the cat that ate the canary.

“N-no!” you protested quickly at his threat. You couldn’t take being set aside again for who knew how much longer, especially not after he riled you up so much. “Fuck, fine. I want you to…” you trailed off, watching Izaya nonchalantly lift the hand he had captured to his lips and pull your slick fingers into his mouth.

You watched transfixed, lips parted but speechless, as he sucked on the digits, the slippery, warm touch of his tongue rolling over them. When he had licked them clean of your essence, he dragged them from his mouth, eyeing you coolly, despite the hunger swirling in his gaze.

“C’mon, you can tell me.”

“Eat me out, Izaya,” you were struck from your stupor, the words bursting over your tongue and instantly giving you the sense you might spontaneously combust beneath his ardent gaze.

A grin with a hint of teeth dawned on Izaya’s face. It thrilled him it had taken less convincing than initially expected to make you admit something so dirty. “There you go. Was that so hard?” he teased, the undertone of desire that made his voice drop an octave very distracting. “All you had to do was ask.”

You let out a startled squeak when Izaya let go of your hand, picking you up off your feet. You swung your legs around his waist in panic, though you weren’t without support for long. Within a few feet, Izaya set you down on the hard surface of the edge of his desk. Disentangling your legs from his waist, he pushed you back until you rested on your elbows. He reached forward to drag your pants and underwear the rest of the way down and you did what you could to assist him, shimmying your hips and lifting them until you could kick the clothing away.

You jumped when Izaya’s touch traced over your stomach, just beneath the hem of your shirt, caressing the skin there lightly before drawing lines down toward your thighs. He kneaded the tender skin on either side; the muscles twitching reflexively under his fingers. “You seem a little tense,” he mused, leaning down and placing several open-mouthed kisses on your skin, following the same path as his hands. “Who knew you got so wound up without my attention?”

His fingers dug harder into your skin, the cool metal of his rings a pleasant contrast on your skin as he grabbed your thighs and spread your legs wider. He bent his head, the fringe of his hair blocking some of his face from sight, your thighs hiding even more of him. His tongue flickered out, starting at the bottom of your seam and barely breaching it before dragging slowly up.

You bucked into his mouth, a short gasp rolling off your tongue, the molten warmth in your gut swelling in answer. Releasing your thighs, he settled the fingers of one hand in a vee on either side of your lips, spreading your pussy open and admiring it. His tongue lolled out again, licking a more deliberate stripe up your folds and wriggling his tongue in a serpentine pattern over your clit. His free hand settled on your hip as you rolled them upward again, preventing you from squirming too much.

He continued, alternating between teasing your clit with light strokes of his tongue and sucking on it gently. His name flowed from your mouth in a breathless stream, punctuated by airy, obscene sounds. When he pulled away, you were trembling from the mounting pleasure, cunt clenching erratically around nothing and chest heaving, brought to the peak of pleasure but still not beyond. All over, your body was hot, tense, and tingling, and you yearned for the last little push.

“You must have missed me a lot. You’re so wet,” Izaya noted, pushing two fingers into your cunt and languidly pumping them in and out. “And you’re shaking. Are you that excited?” He asked gleefully.

At first, you just moaned, enjoying the new sensation, rocking your hips as much as you still could against it. “Yes, yes, Izaya,” you groaned, eyes squeezed shut, indulging in the feeling and the smooth, husky sound of his voice. “It feels so good… I’ve needed you so bad,” you admitted, crying out needily between your words.

“I can tell,” he said, sinking back down for a moment to lick and suck at your clit again while his fingers worked you slowly. “How do you want to cum, my dear? From my tongue or on my cock?” He offered when he paused again, delighting in the way your breathing hitched again.

You bit your lip, struggling to hold back the moans that poured from your lips so you could answer him. With the tight feeling in your gut growing tenser, it was no simple task. “Better decide quick,” Izaya teased again, “feels like you’re getting awfully close.”

Fighting the delicious feeling smoldering between your legs, you gave Izaya an answer, panting and unrestrained. “On your cock, Izaya. Fuck me, please. I need you,” you begged without shame, previous embarrassment and reluctance melting away in a flash of primal heat.

“You sound so sweet and desperate,” Izaya purred, moving from between your legs and standing back to undress. “I guess I can’t say no to that.”

You watched him strip off his shirt and his pants, taking a second yourself to pull your shirt and bra over your head and toss them onto the floor carelessly. When Izaya returned to you, his cock hanging stiff and eager between his legs, crowned by a bead of pre-cum, you expected him to fuck you on the desk. Instead, he picked you up again, helping you curl your legs around him and cupping your ass. To your surprise, he climbed the stairs easily with you held tightly and clinging to his shoulders.

Your cunt throbbed needily, reminding you of your desires, and your pulse pounded so loud it was all you could hear. Crossing the threshold into the dark bedroom, Izaya lay you across the sheets, tidied from the morning earlier. You scooted back, further up the sheets, until you were fully settled on the mattress. Izaya followed eagerly, though even in his eagerness, his motion was purposeful and confident.

When he reached you, he spread his lean frame along you, letting all of your skin press flush against his. You shivered again, goosebumps rising on your skin and you groaned. He nipped a path over your neck and collarbone, a few especially hard bites leaving small, angry patches of red behind.

Izaya hadn’t forgotten how close he’d brought you to cumming downstairs, nor had he forgotten your lustful pleas for him to fuck you. Slipping himself between your legs, he guided the head of his cock to your entrance, pushing forward. Slowly. Far too slowly for the intensity of your boiling blood and all the teasing he had put you through.

“Aah, Izaya… you’re going too slow. More, please,” you begged, giving your hips a short buck to try to take more of his length inside you.

Izaya moved both hands to your hips, holding them down and ruining your attempt to dictate his pace. “Easy, darling. I want to take my time,” he told you mischievously, though his voice betrayed that the slow slide of your cunt around his cock affected him as well. “You know they say patience is a virtue.” The words were low and quiet into your ear,  accompanied by a hungry stroke of his tongue that turned into a bite.

You whimpered, still trying to grind your hips against his futilely. Unable to affect his pace from below, you wrapped your hands around him, trying to press him forward by his slim waist. “But maybe it’s one you don’t quite have,” he taunted, amused by your persistent attempts to bury his dick in you fully.

He continued to push forward, making sure you both felt every inch. You whimpered at the hot stretch of his cock, body buzzing with the sense of fullness as he sank deeper, your cunt throbbing. He mirrored your noises, his moans coming out softer, but deeper, between more of his lips skating over your skin. Now and then he pressed more passionate kisses to your lips, at one point tangling your tongue with his own.

“Mm, there,” he growled hotly when he was completely sheathed in your heat. He groaned and let his head loll forward, enjoying how your pussy hugged him close and tight, your arms reflecting its embrace. “You’re squeezing me so tight, how am I supposed to give you what you want?”

He lifted his hands away from your hips, unraveling your arms from around him. Gathering both your wrists in one hand, he pinned them above your head in the sheets. You were beyond sense, giving in to the hunger pervading your blood and the satisfaction of having Izaya’s full attention at last after being so sorely neglected. “Please, please, please,” you chanted, taking advantage of your newly free hips and bucking against Izaya’s.

Bracing himself on his free hand, Izaya withdrew slowly, not done tormenting you, despite how far drowned you were in your rapture. “There’s that wonderful desperation again,” he murmured, watching as your face twisted with pleasure as he sank back in, coaxing another soft whimper from your throat. “How’s it feel? Did you miss this, too?” He drew his hips back a bit quicker, driving them back until he was balls deep in your heat again, enjoying the fluttering of your cunt.

“Fuck… yes!” You cried out. “Your cock feels so good. I missed it. You. This. All of it,” your voice sank to a hush, thick and breathless, content and full as Izaya rocked into you.

“What a good girl,” he praised, catching your lips for another kiss and swallowing the moans that flowed over your tongue.

  Your body tensed again, the familiar sensation of approaching orgasm dawning on you for the third time that evening. This time, your pleasure showed no signs of being taken away. In fact, Izaya responded more readily to the clench of your body around him and the increasing pitch in your smothered moans and the way your breathing picked up, heavy and short.

He broke the kiss, putting his lips to your ear again. “Don’t stop making those beautiful noises for me, darling. I can tell you’re almost there.”

As if the breathy rasp of his voice had been a trigger, the wave of your orgasm broke over you, shattering the taut spring in your gut and reducing you to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing deliciously beneath his body. You called his name amidst a string of gibberish and curses, arching your back and clenching your hands.

When he spoke again, Izaya was hard to make out through the orgasmic fog dampening your senses. “That face when you cum never gets boring.” More praise rolled off his tongue, and he thrust into you rougher, fighting the squeeze of your cunt as you rode out your orgasm. “What a mess you’ve made of me. Fuck,” he cursed. 

Coated in sweat, his dark hair sticking to his forehead and brown eyes wild, he truly looked a beautiful mess, even to your muddled glance. His tempo grew less steady, coming quickly to his own end. “I hope you’re ready for what you’ve done to me,” he groaned before he came, stiffening against you.

Several more long, satisfying moans drifted into the room, overpowering your last few fading whimpers. His cum filled you, hot and thick, and he collapsed over you, catching his breath, thrusting shallowly a couple times more. He groaned, resting his head on your chest and letting go of your wrists. You both remained still for a few minutes, panting and exhausted, the room thick with the musky smell of sex.

Pulling out, he rolled off to the side, and you felt the slow, warm trickle of his cum on your thigh. You looked over, expecting that he wouldn’t stay in bed long. “I guess now you have to get back to work…” you mumbled, the disappointment in your voice poorly hidden.

To your surprise, Izaya didn’t make for his feet to leave the room and redress. He turned onto his side, grabbing you by the hip and pulling you toward him until his front was pressed to your back, hands folded over your chest. “I think I’ve got some time left.” he considered thoughtfully, his cool demeanor returning with his breath, the way his thumbs absently stroked your skin a sign of how relaxed he was. “Besides, I don’t think you’ve gotten enough me yet, am I right?”

#writing #fanfiction #izaya orihara #durarara!! #ao3 #archive of our own #fic friday #part two #multichapter #nsft #n/s/f/w

[pinkletterday]

A Stitch In Time Ch1

Pairing: Oliver Queen/ Barry Allen

Rating: Mature

Tags: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, so much angst, some bad jokes, Oliver Queen' trauma conga line, Oliver and Iris friendship, alt Arrow Season 3, untagged plot twist.

Summary:  Oliver hadn't expected his world to come crashing down when he had sent his boyfriend off to  see the Particle Accelerator launch. All he can do now is hold on to faith as Barry sleeps on - until he witnesses a miracle. 

He should have known that even miracles come at a price.

Chapter 1

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Oliver knew it was a bad idea to start necking in public view at the metro station but he couldn't help himself. They were lucky it was late and the other stragglers waiting for the eleven pm train were few. Besides, this was the last taste and feel of his boyfriend he was going to get till New Year's and he already looked unfairly adorable in his peacoat with his windswept hair.

"You are so bad at getting rid of me," Barry laughed as Oliver kissed his way down his jaw. 

"Yes," he murmured, licking the shell of Barry's ear, pleased at the shiver it elicited, "that's clearly what Im trying to do."

"Cant stand the sight of me already, huh?"

Oliver cupped his face and kissed him deeply. They were both panting when he drew away, thumb tenderly brushing the kiss-swollen lips. "You have no idea."

Their breath misted between them as leaned their foreheads together. "Mmm. This is a terrible plan," Oliver grumbled. "I hate sleeping without you."

"Hey, It's just for a few days," Barry pecked his lips soothingly. "Should be enough time to break the news to Joe about who I'm dating -"

" - I'm sure he'll be thrilled -"

" - and smooth things over so that when you fly in to meet him at New Year's, he'll be willing to give you a chance," Barry grinned at him. "I mean, he'll grunt and glare and do his whole cop Dad routine but he won't -"

" - go for his gun?" Oliver deadpanned.

"Don't be so dramatic," said Barry, pulling him firmly in by his coat lapels. "Joe's not unreasonable, just protective." 

Oliver quirked a brow. "You forget. I have some experience with dating the kids of cop Dads."

"True," Barry nodded solemnly, "but your experience is coloured by having dated both kids at once."

"Touché," Oliver conceded, "I'm sure that will be a point in my favour when it comes up." 

Barry titled his head, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Are you actually afraid, Mr. Scourge of Starling City?" 

"Is that my new nickname? Shame, The Arrow was kinda cool."

"No, but seriously," said Barry, entwining their fingers in reassurance. "You have nothing to be afraid of. My Dad likes you and so does Iris. You'll win over Joe too, in time."

Warmth suffused him, as it always did, at the unwavering faith in his lover's eyes, banishing the winter chill. He raised their interlocked hands and pressed a kiss on Barry's knuckles, reflecting that softness back at him. "I hope so. I want to be someone you can take home to your cop Dad."

"You should have thought of that before starting a career in vigilanteism," said Barry dryly. 

"Definitely a misstep, I see that now," Oliver nodded. 

They grinned at each other, insulated from the night's chill in their own small pocket of warm happiness, surrounded by the sludge and sleet of the city. A tendril of fear curled in Oliver's chest, some part of him still paranoid and disbelieving that he got to have this at all. 

He cradled the side of Barry's face, protectiveness rising. "Be careful," he told him seriously.

"Of what? Central is not the crazy town full of masked criminals and crimefighters," Barry rolled his eyes and raised a brow pointedly at him. "Besides, it's a little rich coming from the man who nearly coded in the Arrow Cave two nights ago. You're the one who needs to take better care of yourself."

"If I do, will you stop calling the foundry that?," said Oliver, resigned.

"Nope," Barry kissed the palm that cupped his cheek, eyes dancing.

Something of the lingering worry must have shown in his eyes however. His partner's face softened. "Don't worry, Oliver. I'm just going to watch Harrison Wells give a speech, witness the revolution of science as we know it and then go home with Iris and eat Joe's Christmas turkey. What kind of trouble could I possibly get into?"

The distant rumble beneath their feet announced the arrival of the train. "Barry Allen, if there's one thing I've learned about you over the past year," he said, a wry smile tugging at his mouth, "it's that if there's trouble to be had, you'll find it."

...

He was on the island again, stones scraping and bloodying his bare feet as he scrabbled up the rocky slope from the beach. Barry grinned at him in excitement from above. "Oliver, hurry up! We have to catch the man in the lightning!"

Storm clouds menaced from overhead and dread sank deep into his bones. He tried to climb faster with little progress. "Barry, it's not safe!" he yelled, but the wind that buffeted his face carried his words away. "Wait for me!"

Barry merely waved and disappeared over the hill. Oliver belly-crawled to the top to see him running through the trees, too far for him to ever catch up, but he had to try.

"Barry, please!," he called as he ran, jumping over tree roots, struggling to keep him in his sights as the driving sheets of rain obscured his vision. Thunder split the air, drowning his cries and Barry continued to out-pace him, his carefree laughter ringing eerily throughout the forest.

Something caught his foot and he tripped, falling face-down in the mud. He twisted around, trying to free himself, and came face to face with Shado.

She had emerged half-way from the earth, covered in mud and silt, her once-beautiful face sunken and waxy in death. "You left me to rot," she spat at him, "now you're going to stay with me."

He twisted and kicked out in horror but her grip was a vice around his ankle. Lightning speared down from the sky, striking the tree above him with a deafening crack. He rolled out of the way in time to avoid the enormous branch that crashed to the ground, crushing Shado back into the earth. "No!" he cried. He had never meant her to die again.

Lightning flashed once more and suddenly Slade stood over him, a huge sword pointed at his chest. An arrow was potruding out of one eye, blood streaming down his face. "You killed her, kid," he snarled. "You killed her again.

His elbow sank into the silt as he scrambled backwards - and then the rest of him was also sinking, trapped. "Oliver!" Barry's voice echoed above him as the bog dragged him down, the rain pelting into his mouth, choking him, "Oliver!"

"Oliver. Wake up."

He shot upright with a gasp, hand ready to land a nerve-strike to the other person's neck a split second before he recognized Iris. Trying to calm his breathing, he put his hand down slowly, heart juddering against his ribs.

The hospital room was dark except for the light above the bed, illuminating Barry's unconscious form, the quiet only broken by the steady beep of the heart monitor and the susurration of the ventilator. Iris was eyeing him in concern, dark curtain of hair brushing his arm as she leaned over him. 

"Hey," Oliver rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eight. Dad'll be back soon. I came straight from work. Did you eat anything?" she asked briskly, bustling around the room.

Oliver shrugged, wincing at the now-permanent kink in his neck. "Grabbed something from the hospital cafeteria. Surprisingly good pudding cups."

She gave him an unimpressed look and handed him a Jitters pastry bag. He stuffed a croissant into his mouth gratefully.

"Have the doctors been? Anything new?" She leaned over Barry worriedly, pushing his hair back from his face as though searching for signs of change.

"Not since you called this afternoon, no."

She sighed, then forced a bright smile. "So," she said, dragging a chair beside him. "Did you two have fun today?"

"Oh, yeah. We had a busy morning," said Oliver, forcing an answering brightness in turn, "I helped the nurse give him a bath and a shave. Don't get me wrong, I love the man, but scruff is not a good look on him," he shook his head ruefully.

Iris giggled. "Yeeah. Barry just can't grow facial hair. It's the bane of his life," her grin turned wicked. "Did he tell you about the time he came home from college with a moustache?"

"No, really?" Oliver snorted in surprise.

"It was awful. He looked like a used car salesman from the seventies," she said in glee. "Dad and I couldn't keep a straight face. He was so mad!"

He put his pastry down to look seriously at her. "Please tell me you have pictures."

'Pfft, please. I ran for the camera the moment he walked in the door." Iris broke into fresh giggles at Oliver's admiring expression.

"You are an evil person."

She gasped. "You hear that Barry?," she said in mock offence, "He's calling me evil. You gonna take that lying down?"

They both froze, staring wide-eyed at each other. Then burst into almost hysterical laughter.

"Oh my God," Oliver buried his face in his hands, "that was awful."

Iris swatted his shoulder, still shaking with mirth. "Excuse you, it was an amazing pun. Don't you think so, Barry?"

"You see?," Oliver leaned toward Barry conspirationally, "Evil."

They subsided, smiling. Iris took Barry's hand. "You think he can hear us?," she asked wistfully, playing with his limp fingers, "The forums say they can hear and understand sometimes but can't respond -"

"It's a Scale 3 coma, Iris. Brain activity in that state usually indicates complete unconsciousness." He had, in the last three weeks, researched the subject with a diligence he had failed to apply to any of his abortive careers at Ivy League universities. He knew Iris had too.

"Doesn't mean he's not dreaming," she said stubbornly, "I know the doctors say it's unlikely because he doesn't have a sleep-wakefulness cycle but they also don't have a clue why he's flatlining and seizing at the same time..."

There was another pause, both of them holding their breath. They had fallen into a pattern of not talking about the seizures more than necessary, first beause they were terrifying but also out of an unspoken shared superstition that the mere mention of them would precipitate an onset.

But the moments went by and Barry continued to be still, the heart monitor beeping steadily.

Oliver finally broke the silence. "Well, if he can hear us, he's probably horrified at how much blackmail material we're going to be exchanging while he's getting his beauty sleep," he said, teasing a wan smile out of Iris. "And pretty bored, cause I've been reading QC's financial reports and quarterly projections to him."

"Wow. Sounds riveting."

"He thought it was a real snooze, actually," said Oliver solemnly.

Iris broke into a peal of laughter. Oliver grinned back, pleased with himself, before his eyes fell on the doorway where -

- Joe West was standing frozen.

"Detective West," he stood up from his seat, heart sinking. Well damn. After three weeks of painstakingly gaining the man's grudging approval too.

Iris turned around quickly as well. "Dad, we were just -"

But a smile was creasing his normally forbidding countenance, turning into a grin that transformed his face into a sunshine warmth that reminded Oliver of Barry's own. "A real snooze," the detective repeated, giggling.

The laughter that rippled among the room momentarily alleviated the pall that hung over it. For a few minutes they sat around Barry and chatted easily, occasionally talking to him too. It felt as though they were sitting in the Wests' living room having the normal family conversation he and Barry had envisioned during the holidays. Before the Accelerator explosion. 

Unfortunately, it was short lived.

The machines suddenly went haywire the exact same moment as the hospital lights started to flicker and die.

"Oh God, not again!"

Barry began to convulse and jerk on the bed. Oliver raced to hold him down but he kept thrashing like some ghastly marionnette pulled by invisible, torturous strings. Dimly he could hear Joe calling for help and Iris crying Barry's name over the terror drumming in his ears. The medical team streamed into the room, pushing him away and he let himself be shunted outside, reduced to watching helplessly.

"Barry!"

Iris was being restrained by a nurse, still shouting. Oliver watched numbly as Joe pulled her into his arms, face as haggard with shock as he felt. She buried her face in her father's chest and fell apart, the way he didn't know how to do anymore.

...

Henry Allen's face was always hopeful whenever he saw him. Oliver tried not to resent him for it, because having to extinguish it every time was awful.

"Is Barry -?" It was the first question that passed his lips the moment he picked up the phone, almost before he sat down and he slumped and aged a little more every time Oliver shook his head wearily.

But like his son, Henry was resilient of spirit, composing himself in short order. "It's been a while, Oliver," the man's smile and tone betrayed no accusation but Oliver still felt a stab of guilt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Dr. Allen," he rubbed the weariness from his eyelids. "Barely had any time between Barry and my mother and wrangling the board at Starling."

"That wasn't a complaint. Just concern. And when are you going to start calling me Henry?" the older man asked in mock-stern humour.

Oliver huffed a laugh and relaxed. "Sorry, Henry."

"You shouldn't worry about me," Henry's blue eyes were painfully understanding, "Iris has been stopping by regularly, keeping me in the loop."

"I'm glad. She's been amazing," said Oliver warmly. Because she really was. But he had come to talk of a less pleasant topic. "Speaking of in the loop, Harrison Wells has spoken to Joe."

Henry's jaw tensed. "What does that man want?"

No one who loved Barry had much sympathy for the architect of the Particle Accelerator explosion, paralyzed and humiliated as he was. Even Henry Allen, as kind a man as had ever lived, couldn't forgive what he had done to his only child. Oliver hadn't thought he was the kind of man who would want to deck a man in a wheelchair but his knuckles itched every time he saw him on TV. Only the thought that this was probably how many Starling residents felt about his mother sobered him.

Still, objectively speaking, Wells's plan seemed pragmatic. Oliver didnt need a medical degree to know that the doctors were at a complete loss and with every seizure they came that much closer to losing Barry. 

Henry mulled this over at the end of his explanation. "What do you think?," he asked Oliver.

"It does make sense," he said begrudgingly.  "Barry's not getting better. We can't not try everything we can. And it would make me a hypocrite to begrudge someone trying to find redemption for a terrible mistake."

"But what do you think?"

The fact that Barry's father had grown to value his judgment so much never failed to catch Oliver off-guard and humble him. He looked the older man directly in the eye through the dirty glass that separated them.

"I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

Henry searched his face for a long moment. Finally he jerked his head in a nod of understanding. "But you'll be watching him?"

Oliver's own jaw tightened. "You can count on it."

***

"You have to come home."

He ignored Felicity, continuing to stare at Barry's lax wrist in his hands, feeling the pulse beat humming-bird fast and thready, always seeming thin enough to dissolve.

She sighed. "I know you don't want to -,"

"I can't," he interjected firmly

" - but it's been five weeks. The Mirakuru is still out there and we still have no clue who the man in the skull mask is even though Digg and I have been shaking down as many known drug dealers as we can in the Glades. Isabel Rochev has been hounding us with calls...," Felicity sighed again, and this time he could hear the exhaustion in her own voice. A gentle hand laid on his shoulder. "The city is heading toward some kind of implosion, like with Merlyn last year. We can't let that happen again."

It was too much. Then let it implode, he thought savagely. Why do I have to be the one to save the goddamn city. What makes me so special? Haven't I paid enough for my family's sins?

His grip on Barry's hand tightened convulsively. The truth was that he was terrified to let go for fear that the tremulous thread anchoring Barry to life would snap. He should have known it would end this way. Should have known better than to hope, should have pushed Barry away when he had the chance before he let him down too...

"Why would you want to be with me?," he asked, searching Barry's eyes that still looked at him with such steady faith. "I failed the city. I failed everyone." Especially you.

"You didn't fail everyone. We helped people. You gave people a chance to save themselves. Gave them hope," Barry cupped his cheek tenderly. "Gave me hope."

"It wasn't enough," but Oliver couldn't help turning his face into the comfort of that hand. "I wasn't enough. I'm no hero, Barry."

"Maybe not. But what you are is a good man willing to risk everything to keep people safe," said Barry. "Maybe that's what the city needs, more than a hero. And for that," his hand curled around Oliver's, "you will always be a hero to me."

"Oliver," Digg's urgent voice made him look up sharply. "There's been a bombing downtown. Three people dead. We have to go back now."

Oliver nodded and stood up, making himself release Barry's hand.

I'm going to try and be the man you deserve.

He felt the shift from Oliver Queen to the Arrow as he squared his shoulders, emotion replaced by cold calculation. "I need to call Iris. Felicity, find out all you can about the bomber. Digg, get the jet ready. We'll plan en route."

***

"How's Barry?"

Felicity had the answer automatically ready for Oliver's habitual question almost before he had finished clattering down the stairs to the Arrow Cave, Sara at his heels.

"Still stable. At least according to the video feed," she waved at the monitor that displayed the STAR Labs cortex, where her friend was hooked up to a depressing number of machines. "I feel kinda bad about hacking into that. Cisco and Caitlin really do seem to be doing their best to take care of him."

"I'm not willing to take any chances," said Oliver, hanging up his bow and divesting himself of his quiver almost carelessly, his eyes trained on the screen.

A derisive scoff sounded behind him. "Well that's a big fat lie."

Felicity tensed as Oliver rounded on Sara. The small blonde was unfazed by his looming. She continued to put away her gear without looking at him, ire emanating from her own movements.

He turned around in time to unfortunately catch Felicity sharing a nervous glance with Diggle, who immediately adopted his stolid dealing-with-Oliver's-dramatics stance.

Oliver took a deep breath and cocked his head with an even expression. "Something you want to tell me?" he said, with that "definitely-not-bristling-I-am-a-calm-rational-human-being" demeanor he used when defending some exceptionally stupid decision.

Diggle, as usual, opened with the reasonable tack that invariably put Oliver on the defensive. "Oliver, we know how hard this has been on you. We care about Barry too. But it's been three months -"

"I'm not giving up on him!"

"We're not asking you to!" Sara exclaimed. "But you're being sloppy! You're distracted, you're barely rested, you're taking stupid risks and getting hurt more than usual, which is really saying something," she accentuated her point by slapping her glove against his chest. Felicity flinched. Oh boy.

"I'm doing the best I can," Oliver gritted mutinously.

"Don't you get it, Ollie? You don't have to give up on Barry but you're not helping anyone like this!" Sara got right in his face and Felicity inched her chair further back into the safety of her computer bank. "Slade's got us like sitting ducks, Roy's out of control and whatever issue you're having with Moira right now, our families are in danger! Starling needs you!"

Colour had risen in Oliver's cheeks, his eyes glinting dangerously like he was about fire right back at Sara. But then the fight seemed to deflate right out of him. He slumped, the sheer exhaustion he was fighting a losing battle with weighing down his broad shoulders. It made Felicity's heart hurt. "I'm already doing all I can think of," he sighed, running a hand over his face, "what more do you want me to do?"

Sara stepped back. Her expression had softened but her voice was still stern and unyielding. "If there's anything I've learned while I've been gone, it's that to protect people you have to focus on what's in front of you. You can't have your head in Central City if you're going to fix the problems here," Felicity winced a little at her bluntness. "Otherwise you'll lose both."

***

Despite years of yearning for its comfort, the Queen mansion had never really felt like home after he had returned. Now it was merely a hollow shell preparing to pass into the hands of strangers, his failures dogging him with each echoing footstep. 

"Thea is out there hurt or worse because of one person - and it's not Slade Wilson," Roy's eyes burned in his gaunt face. "I believed in you."

"How could you not tell me Malcolm Merlyn was my father?" Thea's eyes were full of accusation and betrayal as she curled into herself. "I believed in you."

"I'd say they'd lost faith in your leadership, but that would imply there was any," said Isabel snidely, vicious victory sparking in her eyes. "Maybe you should have focused a little less on your...evening activities."

"Your father had a weakness for beautiful, strong women."

Even his own room felt like it belonged to someone else, except for the framed picture of himself and Barry sitting on the mantlepiece.

They were both wearing ugly Christmas sweaters that Barry had insisted were traditional, snuggled on the couch in the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. Barry was wrapped in his arms with a look of supreme contentment on his face while Oliver pressed a tender kiss to his tousled head tucked under his chin. He had spent that night at the mansion for the first time, smugly relishing making love in the bed of Oliver's adolescence. Waking up to Barry's drowsy half-lidded gaze had filled him with a contentment he hadn't known was possible.

"I'm so happy I'm frightened," Oliver confessed, his face buried in Barry's neck.

"Why are you frightened?" Barry reached back to card his fingers through Oliver's hair.

He tightened his arms around him. "Of what would happen if I lost you."

Barry turned around to face him, smile sleep-soft and sweet. "You could never lose me."

But you lied, thought Oliver, bile rising in his throat as he stared at the picture in his hands. You left me too.

The rage he hadn't realized had been simmering just beneath the surface suddenly blazed white-hot. He hurled the picture at the wall and swept an arm across the entire mantlepiece, clocks, curios and pictures joining the shattered frame on the floor.  The memories of failure and betrayal chased him one after the other as he destroyed every memento in the room in a red haze, kicking, ripping, smashing.

The room was littered in glass shards and debris when he was finally spent, sliding along the wall to drop limply onto the floor. At his feet, Barry's and his happy smiles gazed up at him from the broken frame. 

***

Oliver had had this nightmare many times before, replaying that night again and again until he was crying for it to end. But those had taken place in the darkness and freezing wind of the island, the pale torchlight illuminating Sara's and Shado's terrified faces before Ivo shot Shado in the head. Sometimes both her and Sara. Over and over.

Now the harsh beams of the truck's headlights and Oliver's own concussion made everything swim in amber, and the voices begging for their lives belonged to his mother and sister.

"Choose!" No. This was just another nightmare. It had to be. Please God. Please.

But the ropes cutting into his wrists felt very real and part of him knew there would be no merciful awakening from this, any more than there had been the last time. 

"Let me make the right choice now! Kill me! It's me you want!" he pleaded desperately, ignoring Thea's and his Mom's renewed cries. I can't take this anymore. Please stop hurting them. Let me die and be with Barry. Let it all end.

"I will kill you," sneered Slade, drawing his gun from his belt and cocking it. "Only more slowly than you would like. I confess, I enjoyed how much pain you've been in watching your lover die by inches," he gloated over Oliver's face and the thought of the deranged man standing over Barry's unconscious form sent ice through him, "But it wasn't enough. Despite everything, you still keep clinging to a strand of hope, however thin. Hope that I can never have." Slade straightened, turning back to his mother and sister. "No, Oliver. I need you to taste true despair. I need you to suffer by my own hand, not just fate's."

"And so...," he laid the barrel of the gun over little Thea's head in a mockery of benediction, ignoring her face soaked in tears. "Choose."

"Please," Oliver choked. "Don't."

"Choose!" Over his mother's head this time.

The fury erupting from his chest was a living thing, searing across his veins, raging to rip Slade's throat out, to feel the satisfying crunch of his neck breaking, to stab an arrow clean through his other eye socket with his bare hands. Yet, the ropes still held.

"CHOOSE!"

But Moira was struggling to her feet, head held proudly aloft despite the arms wrenched behind her back.

"Mom?" No. No no no no no. "What're you doing?"

"There is only one way this night can end," said Moira, voice steady through a throat raw with tears. She turned to Slade, composed and dignified even with the sweat and grime streaking her hair and face, "we both know that, don't we, Mr. Wilson?"

Oliver heard himself and Thea pleading as though from far away. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He suddenly remembered his Dad in the raft, pointing the gun at his own temple. 

"Close your eyes, baby!" Moira implored, but Oliver was transfixed.

Slade seemed taken aback. "You possess great courage," he said deferentially, lowering his gun and turning away. For one wild moment, it seemed as though she might be spared - but then he saw Slade's hand grasp the hilt of his sword.

Thunder rumbled, reverberating the ground beneath his feet. Oliver remembered distantly that there had been a storm on the island that night as well. 

Thea screamed as Slade whirled around, the blade flashing silver.

And the world turned gold.

The flare of incredible light seared his eyes, static raising every hair on his body. A moment later, a sonic boom knocked him sideways as something immense cleaved the world in two.

Oliver was only stunned for a bare moment before his reflexes took over, rolling him to his feet almost in the same motion. He shook his head, clearing his vision to see Slade fallen against a tree some ten feet away, trying to struggle to his feet. His mother and sister were nowhere to be seen except for the ropes on the ground.

Panic thudded wildly in his chest. "What did you do?," he yelled at Slade, "What did you do to them?"

But the other man's seemed just confused as he staggered around almost foolishly.

"Thea! Mom!" Oliver yelled. He suddenly realized his hands were untied.

Slade seemed to finally regain his bearings and rounded on him, his face a rictus of fury. "SEARCH THE PERIMETER!" he roared into the darkness. "BRING THEM TO ME!"

Something gleamed on the ground a few feet away. A bare flicker of Slade's eye confirmed that he had seen it too. Their eyes locked on each other for a milisecond before they both lunged sideways for the gun.

Oliver's knee landed in Slade's gut the same time as Slade's armoured knuckles caught him in the jaw. Stars burst across his vision but he hooked his ankle around the other man's leg without a moment's pause. They rolled around in the dirt, scrabbling for the weapon until Slade managed to pin Oliver to the ground, closing his preternaturally strong hand around his throat.

He knew what it was when he felt it this time, the earth rumbling beneath him a second before gold light filled his vision, incandescent enough to blind him through his eyelids, to burn him - but it only enveloped him in a gentle warmth before the world tilted.

The ground under his feet turned to pressurized air, locking him in place as the rest of the world rushed past in a blur, a tidal wave giving the illusion of being dragged into the sea. But he was not grasping for breath and his eyes did not sting; he was engulfed in a warm, secure bubble as the golden rods of light streamed on either side of him, of them, a masked person with lightning eyes -

- and suddenly it all stopped, slamming the breath from his lungs, the ground hard beneath his feet. The thunder clap rang in his ears before he had finished falling to his knees.

It had all happened between one blink and the next. He grasped the earth, disoriented. Only it wasn't earth at all but concrete.

"Whoa, easy there," said an oddly vibrating voice. A gloved hand laid on his back. Oliver flinched and rolled away from it, gaining his feet again.

A tall, almost lanky man in a form-fitting suit was silhouetted against the backdrop of...city lights? They were on a rooftop?

"Who are you?" Oliver demanded, falling into a defensive stance despite still fighting nausea. "Where are we?"

"We're on the roof of Verdant" said the man again in that mechanically resonant voice. There was something oddly familar about it. "Don't worry, your mother and sister are safe. I left them at the Glades precinct. Captain Lance will take care of them."

Oliver noted that the man had gotten Quentin's designation wrong but there were more pressing concerns. "How did we get here? Where's Slade?"

"Deathstroke is, uh, taking a small nappy nap," said the man, airily wiggling his  fingers. "I knocked him out, picked you up and ran you here. Don't worry, it wasn't a bridal carry."

"You carried me?"

"Don't sound so surprised. I'm pretty strong. The speed also helps a lot," he shrugged in what seemed like self-deprecation.

"That's not possible."

Oliver swallowed, thoughts racing. He had to find a way to get off this roof and he needed answers. But how do you escape something this fast?

"Isn't it? I thought you said you were more ready to believe in the impossible than most people." I've spent my whole life chasing the impossible. His heart stopped.

"Who are you?"

The man stepped closer to him so Oliver could see his face more clearly in the blazing glow of the city that suffused the evening sky. He wanted to take a step back but his feet were again rooted to the ground as the man ducked his head and pulled back the mask. Barry smiled tentatively, hair tousled and cheeks wind-flushed. "Hey."

***

Either Oliver had forgotten how beautiful Barry was when he was awake or Slade had hit him really hard and he was now hallucinating.

"You. You're not-" his throat was closing. "You're not real."

Not-Barry looked at him gently. "I promise I'm real. See?" He took off a glove and reached out a hand between them. Oliver stared at it. The long slender fingers and slim wrist were so familiar, he reached out to touch it almost without thinking.

The other man's eyes were tender and his smile tired but sweet as ever, dimpling his cheeks. The hand, soft and warm, slotted neatly into his own, fingers intertwining in sense-memory.

"It's me, Oliver," he said, stepping closer. "It's really me."

Oliver touched the man's face as though in a dream. He traced the planes of those cut-glass cheekbones, the shadows cast by his sweeping lashes, the freckles around his eyes, the plush pink lips. They gently brushed his own open mouth and he was suddenly surrounded by the scent of rainstorms and honey beneath which he could sense the taste and feel that was uniquely Barry.

"Barry," he breathed. "Barry."

Oliver grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him forward for a furious kiss that made him grunt and stagger in surprise. He fisted his hands through those soft chestnut waves, holding Barry's head in place to sweep his tongue deeper into his mouth, starving for his taste, his touch, his moans driving him even more delirious.

It was an eternity of bliss and yet not nearly enough when his lover broke free. He caught Oliver's wrists, panting. "Oliver," Barry leaned their foreheads together, both their breathing ragged. Oliver's blood pounded in his ears. He only realized he'd been crying when Barry brushed the wetness away with his ungloved thumb. "Oh Ollie," he murmured sadly.

"Are you dead?," Oliver choked out. His vision blurred with tears but he let them brim over, afraid to blink.

"Are we both dead? Is this heaven?"

"What? Ollie, no," Barry huffed a laugh and turned his face into Oliver's hand to kiss it. "We are both very much alive."

"But I need you to listen to me," his grip on his wrists tightened urgently, those wonderfully awake and alert eyes pinning his own with startling intensity, "I don't have much time. First off, I'm not really back."

Oliver's heart sank and he pulled Barry impossibly closer, running frantic hands over his body searching for damage. "What do you mean?"

Catching his hands again, Barry turned Oliver's chin up to face him full-on. "To understand what I'm about to tell you," he spoke careful and clear, "you need to believe in the impossible. Can you do that?"

Oliver laughed incredulously. "I don't need to believe, I just saw it."

"No, there's more to it. Listen," he took a deep breath, "I'm from the future."

"From...the future," repeated Oliver blankly. This somehow seemed to make perfect sense, in that surreal way the twists and turns of a dream seemed perfectly reasonable.

"Yes. The me of right now is still in a coma at STAR Labs," said Barry. "I'm going to wake up in a few months and I'm going to have these powers."

"Powers? Like...turning into lightning?"

"No, but I am lightning fast and I can generate my own lightning bolts...eventually." Something tight flickered over his expression but he shook it away and refocused. "The point is, I will develop my powers over time until one day I accidentally time-travel."

"Absolutely nobody can find out what really happened here tonight, not even me. I need to find out about my powers by myself and you can't tell me or anyone until one day, I have to deliberately choose to time travel for the first time," Barry cupped Oliver's face in his hands, almost vibrating with urgency. "You have to promise me."

Oliver was still struggling to get a grip on reality. "But why?"

"Because that is how it happened before and now must be again," said Barry. His face was inscrutable. "Anything else will create a paradox. Promise me."

"I promise. I won't tell anyone." He still didn't have the slightest idea what Barry was saying but he would promise his soul to have his partner back like this, warm, responsive, alive.

He couldn't make himself let go of him though. He wasn't sure he knew how. "But - Barry, there's so much happening in the city right now - I need you. I don't know if I can do this without you."

"Oliver, you can do this," and there was that immovable trust in Barry's eyes that he had been starving for, making his heart soar and humbling him to his core at the same time, "It won't be easy but you're not alone. Trust in your family and your team. They have your back. You can save the city and you will beat Slade."

The band that had constricted his chest for months finally loosened, allowing free breath. "You really believe that?"

Barry smiled. "I don't have to believe it. I've already seen it."

It suddenly struck Oliver that this Barry was different in a way that had nothing to do with the mask or the powers. There was an invisible weight on the slope of those broad shoulders. Even his smile was not the full-blown beam of sunshine he was used to, some sad shadow pulling at the creases of his mouth and eyes, and the furrow of his brow. There was a battered and bowed gravity to him that Oliver recognized.

What happened to you? What made you so much like me?

Perhaps Barry had seen him reading too much in his demeanor. Stepped back uncomfortably, he pulled Oliver's hands away. "I have to go," he softened at the sound of distress that escaped Oliver, hands scrabbling to pull him back. "This is real, Ollie," he framed his face in his hands again, eyes as tender as they were intense, "I promise. I'm going to wake up."

Oliver swallowed past the knot in his throat and nodded. "Okay. I believe you."

"And I believe in you," Barry gently pried his hands loose and Oliver, with a Herculean effort, let him.

He stood at the edge of the building, silhouetted in shadow and scarlet against the liquid yellow-gold of the city. Electricity crackled at his feet, spidering up his body which Oliver could sense vibrating with power even at this distance. Almost a demi-god, an entity that belonged to a place and time Oliver could not hope to follow. 

A sudden desperation gripped him. "Barry," he called, "I love you."

Barry gave him that soft, sad smile over his shoulder. "I know," he said, lightning sparking in his eyes.

Oliver was braced for the sonic boom this time. He watched in awe as the red-gold comet blazed across the city into the horizon before disappearing into a vortex of swirling blue light.

Now that... is really cool.

Bonus deleted scene

Chapter 2

#olivarry #oliver queen x barry allen #a stitch in time #canon divergence #arrow #the flash #established relationship