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transsergio · 3 years

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Emily's Top Surgery (Read on AO3)

Penemily / Gen / 4038 words

Emily has top surgery and their loving, perfect, beautiful girlfriend Penelope is their caretaker.

Notes: I refer to Emily as Penelope's girlfriend intentionally; Emily is a non-binary lesbian and in this particular story, is comfortable with the gendered term "girlfriend". However, if you see Emily referred to as she/her at any point, that's an editing mistake on my part and I mixed up their pronouns with Penelope's. I went through this a couple times to make sure I gendered them correctly, but one might have slipped through the cracks!

Also feels important to say that Dr. Dolan is a totally fictional doctor and not a reference to any real life surgeon

Surgery Day

Penelope has seen her team through too much already. Kidnappings, stab wounds, bullets – their jobs aren’t exactly arts and crafts. Yet, she thinks this might be the most nervous she has ever been. She’s been rapid-fire tapping her heel for the last hour and forty-five minutes, and trying to distract herself with her cell phone. Morgan texted a couple times to check in (once on behalf of Reid), but otherwise, radio silence. The few messages mean more than she can say; she is intimately familiar with how busy they are on a case. But she really wishes any of them were there to squeeze her hand right about now. She’d even take Strauss.

In the middle of Penelope’s billionth Candy Crush level, a doctor materializes in front of her. She startles and fumbles her phone trying to click it off. “Is it over? Can I see them now? How’d it go?”

As the doctor peels his surgical mask off, she sees he’s laughing at her. That’s good, right?

He says, “Everything went just fine, Ms. Garcia. Emily’s in the recovery room now, and we’ll let you back there about twenty minutes after they wake up. They’re going to be a little groggy and maybe nauseous. It all depends on how their body reacts to the anesthesia. They’ll most likely sleep for the rest of the day, but make sure to keep up with their medications, alright?”

Penelope nods fervently. “Absolutely, Dr. Dolan. Can do. Will do! And I’m sorry to ask this again but I really have to make sure, the whole operation was totally fine? Nothing went wrong? Everything…chopped off okay?”

The doctor stifles a chuckle. “Yes, Ms. Garcia. Everything went exactly as planned, no complications as of yet. We’ll see you tomorrow for Emily’s one day post-op appointment to check the surgery site and switch out the bandages for a binder, and then for their first week post-op. Okay?”

Penelope smiles back, still nodding along like Emily’s health depends on it.

The doctor shakes her hand and ducks back into the surgical ward, leaving Penelope to update the group chat.

“Emily’s out!!!!!! Doc says all good!!!!!! Will be with them soon 😍💖🥳”

She types almost as quickly as her heart is beating.

Penelope makes it through another few rounds of mobile games and desperately refreshing her Twitter feed before she risks checking the clock. It’s been half an hour. Shouldn’t Emily be awake by now? What if they never wake up? Could someone be permanently anesthetized? Reid would know. Maybe Penelope should call Reid. No, she can’t do that. They’re all off in Texas trying to catch a serial killer and she doesn’t need to distract them, not when they’re already down two team members. Kevin Lynch is pretty good, she hopes. She’s seen his work and it’s adequate. Nothing like the multi-tasking Penelope pulls off, but in the same ballpark. His boyfriend, Grant Anderson, vouched for him. It was unnecessary, and maybe Kevin shouldn’t have sent the person who got Elle shot to sing his praises, but at least they knew Grant. Kevin was a stranger from another department. A back-up.

“Penelope Garcia?” A nurse calls as she emerges from swinging double doors.

“Yes, right here!” Penelope chirps. She leaps to her feet and scurries over as quickly as her heels will allow.

The nurse walks her through the recovery ward and the steps to Emily’s post-op instructions. Emily has four different prescriptions already filled and two cannot be taken at the exact same time while one is an antibiotic and the other is just for nausea which they might not need and –

“This is all written down, right? Sorry, my head’s just like, woo, swimming right now,” Penelope says. Her eyes are wide and darting frantically between the curtained beds. She hates the fluorescent lights. Her skin is buzzing with all the sour electricity. The nurse assures her they’ll send them home with physical copies along with phone numbers in case of emergency.

They round the nurse’s station and finally, come to Emily. They’re shifting slightly in their bed, leaning forward and sipping at a dixie cup of water. They're groggy and slow, with the IV still in their arm. Penelope’s glad they don’t have a mirror – their bangs are scattered over their forehead in three wispy chunks, a way Penelope knows Emily hates.

“Hey sweetheart,” Penelope coos. She leans over the bed's plastic siding to kiss the top of Emily’s head, and run her fingers through their dark hair. Emily leans into the touch.

They croak, “Hey,” and cough to clear their throat, wincing all the while.

“That’d be because you were intubated,” the nurse says. “Take plenty of cough drops and you should feel much better.”

Penelope assures the nurse they will while Emily drifts in and out of focus.

“Did it work?” they ask.

“Did what, Em?”

“M’surgery.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally. You’ll see in a little bit. You’re just sleepy.”

“M’kay,” Emily says. Their head lolls back into their pillows as the muscles in their face tighten.

“Emily, what would you rate your pain out of ten?” the nurse asks, coming closer with her clipboard at the ready.

“Uh, five? Maybe six.”

Penelope looks to the nurse. “Is that bad? That sounds bad. I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt right now.”

The nurse jots down a few notes before she answers. “It’s not unusual. We’ll up their pain killers before we remove the IV.”

Penelope plants herself firmly at Emily’s side in the meantime. They’ve redressed Emily in their own clothes, an oversized button-down and sweats. Well, Penelope assumes they put Emily’s bottoms back on. The blanket is still tucked tightly around their body like they’re some kind of soft, hot mummy. They stay like that for another fifteen minutes, Penelope working her nails through Emily’s scalp as they try to relax.

When Emily rates their pain at a four, then a three, Penelope helps the nurse settle them in a wheelchair. They roll a few feet into the hall before Emily claws for Penelope’s arm.

“Where’s the barf bag?” Penelope asks. She has her hand out and ready for the nurse to pass it over, and swings it into Emily’s face.

Emily, thankfully, does not puke. Their slow, steady breath crinkles the blue plastic bag, but all they fill it with is air. They keep a tight grip on the thing for safekeeping, even as they’re helped into the passenger’s seat of Penelope’s car.

“You ready to go home, lovebug?” Penelope keeps her voice low and sweet, like dark honey. Emily nods and Penelope grants her wish, starting the engine and turning out of the parking lot.

-❤-

One Day Post-Op

Penelope holds her breath as the nurse unwraps the medical bandages. She wonders if Em is doing the same. While she’s watching them, Emily’s eyes flit between her and the floor-length mirror fastened to the exam room wall.

The nurse is talking, and they’re both supposed to be listening, but who could expect them to? Emily has spent a couple grand (after insurance) and something like four years waiting for these next seconds. Penelope is just as invested, if not more, in Emily’s happiness. She’s not going to get the camera out, but wonders if she should just in case Emily cries.

Their eyes follow the final bandage as it unravels from Emily’s form.

And Emily’s mind goes quiet. They have two, deep red swoops where their chest used to bulge. Above and below, their body is nothing but smooth skin. They thought this would feel like shock. Like disbelief that they were finally here. Instead, it just feels right, as if this is the way it’s always been and some crappy daydream is over at last. They giggle, and Penelope glows like the sun has risen.

“Wow,” Penelope says, soft. She’s wrenched with admiration.

The nurse is smiling in the corner. She takes out a roll of Steri-Strips and measures them against Emily’s new scars. Scars! Emily finally has scars!

“Now the bruising should lessen in the next three to four weeks,” the nurse says. Oh, bruising. Emily almost hadn’t noticed. Their body is splotched with patches of yellow, green, and purple as if it’s trying to camouflage itself, but Emily’s not hiding from anything anymore.

They’re given more practical information, like how often Emily should be walking to avoid blood clots, how high they should lift their arms, how much they should be carrying – most of which tells them to stay reclined, arms down, to sleep as much as possible, but get in ten minutes of walking every few hours. Penelope hears more of this than Emily does, and again, they’re given written instructions just in case.

Emily takes one last look before the compression vest goes on. This will be the most uncomfortable part of the process, thank god. Emily chose a surgeon who used a tighter suture method rather than the typical drains intentionally. Still, the fit of the binder is exciting. Emily’s never had something lie flat on them before. Their body now falls in one fluid line without anything, even nipples, to interrupt.

“Em?”

Emily snaps to Penelope, who is standing and holding the door for them.

“Oh, right,” Emily says with half a laugh and a daze in their eyes. They thank the nurse, and the receptionist, and a passing surgeon that isn’t even Emily’s on the way out. This is the most gratitude Emily’s ever contained in their life, and they need to flush it through their system.

“And especially you,” Emily gushes as Penelope helps buckle their seatbelt. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’re taking time off for me, or that you’re not stir crazy already. Thank you.”

Penelope grins like she might burst, and can’t answer just yet. She gets them safely onto the highway for home first. “Of course I’m here for you, dumb-dumb! Not only because you literally can’t do anything for yourself right now, or because the hospital said you couldn’t have the surgery without having a caretaker, but, well – okay, maybe half for those reasons too. But because I love you. I’m so happy for you, and how happy you’re going to be, and that this is so good for you. I love you so much.” Penelope sniffles.

“Maybe you should have said all that before we left?” Emily asks. “You’re gonna cry the whole drive back, babe.”

Penelope swats at them. “I know, I know! But you’re on a strict schedule, my lovely angel, and you need your meds in like, thirty minutes.”

Emily laughs and catches Penelope’s hand in their own. They squeeze it tightly and press their lips to Penelope’s fingers. Emily only releases when Penelope tugs their grip toward the steering wheel.

“Next stop, Recoveryville,” Pen jokes.

-❤-

Five Days Post-Op

Emily is more or less comfortably laid on their couch. They have an arsenal of pillows stationed behind them, under their arms, and at the bend of their knees, and Penelope’s militant care routine keeping them afloat. For the last four days, they’ve done nothing but watch French art films together, eat ice cream, and order takeout. It’s been a nice break, Emily realizes. One they didn’t know they needed.

Penelope emerges from the kitchen with a bag of Doritos and a bright blue DVD in her hands.

“This looks like a bribe,” Emily says with a wry smile.

“That’s because it is. I am in no place to object to your choice of movies, especially after I promised I wouldn’t make fun of the accents anymore. But I was sorta hoping this would be a good opportunity to manhandle you into watching a real classic.” Penelope blocks the television in her pink pajama pants and Emily’s Yale hoodie. Penelope is well aware that Emily loves when she wears their clothes; she has to be doing this on purpose. And it’s working.

Emily bobs their head from side to side, considering the offer. “Alright, shoot. I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

Penelope slaps the movie cover over her face. Mamma Mia! (2008) Dir. Phyllida Lloyd.

“Oh, god.”

And Penelope reemerges, scowling. “Hey! I didn’t complain when you made me watch that sad movie about the woman with the dead family. This time, no one’s dead! And they’re in Greece! Okay, admittedly no one wants to hear Pierce Brosnan sing, but if you ignore him and focus on Meryl Streep the movie gets a lot better!”

This is not the first time Emily has heard argument on behalf of Mamma Mia! and it likely isn’t the last, either. Movie night in the Garcia-Prentiss household is in a state of constant debate and usually decided by a fair and unbiased coin toss. Emily considers it a miracle that Penelope’s lasted this long without putting up a fight, and considers it part of her generosity as their caretaker.

Emily scooches themself into a more upright position. “Trois coleurs: Bleu is a beautiful movie and you said you liked it, first of all. And I thought we were watching my movies because I’m the one healing.”

Penelope hesitates. “…Yes, but I may have also been doing a little eensy weensy bit of work at the same time because they’re also like, really slow and boring and Kevin needed the tiniest, tiniest bit of help on the Texas case.”

“Traitor!” Emily is aghast. “What about the deal?”

The deal, of course, was the promise they made each other after their third movie night. Emily was texting throughout The Muppets Take Manhattan and not entirely invested in Kermit and Miss Piggy’s wedding. Penelope was hurt, Emily was confused, and didn’t fully get it until Penelope fell asleep twenty minutes into Deux ou trois choses que je sais d'elle. From that point on, they agreed to compromise more on movie selection and to pay undivided attention to the films they did pick.

“You passed out! I thought the deal was void if you weren’t awake during your own movie!” Penelope said.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Emily argued.

“Oh, yeah, I’m going to wake up the person who just had surgery so they can pay attention to the third sad foreign movie of the day. You need your rest, and Kevin has maybe half of my inimitable skills!” Penelope’s words were jumbling together as she went up an octave. “I know I’m on vacation but the team needed help and I didn’t want to abandon them with some computer monkey who doesn’t know the first thing about my system, much less the way the team works, and isn’t even a regular assist on cases like me and—”

Penelope is cut off by three short raps at their front door. A welcome escape.

“Pen!” Emily calls after her. “We’re not done here!”

“I think we are!” Penelope shouts back. She passes down the hall and peers through the peep hole, though, she really doesn’t need to. She recognizes the voices on the other side.

“We’re not too early, are we?”

“It’s two in the afternoon, genius.”

“I mean in days since Emily’s operation. They might not be up to company.”

“Then we’ll say hi to baby girl and head out, no big deal.”

Penelope swings the door wide open. “Definitely say hi to me, definitely do that!”

Morgan and Reid stand in their building’s hallway, Derek carrying bags of Chinese food, and Spencer juggling some sort of gift basket. Their eyes are tired and Derek’s stubble is looking rougher than usual, but they perk up in the light of their friend.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan says. He comes in for a tight hug as he and Reid crowd themselves inside. “How’s everyone holdin’ up?”

“Peachy keen,” Penelope says. She squeezes Derek’s shoulder and leads them back to Emily by Reid’s hand. “Look who missed their favorite co-workers!”

“Hey, guys,” Emily says. Their heart warms at the sight of them. “What’re you doing here?”

“Now how’s that any way to greet a friend?” Morgan laughs. He lowers their takeout food to the coffee table and dives onto the couch beside Emily. “You been good to Garcia so far, or do we have to put the hurt on you?” He playfully punches Emily in their arm, and they cower in mock pain.

“Hey, no roughhousing!” Penelope scolds. “If anyone pulls any sort of muscle in the next twenty minutes, you’re all in timeout.”

Emily and Derek snicker in their seats and launch into the most recent case details. It’s a lot of the gory, icky stuff that Penelope doesn’t want to know unless she’s in her bat cave, so she takes Spencer and his basket into the kitchen.

“Doritos, huh?” he notices the bag Penelope drops on the counter. “You were trying to get something from them?”

Penelope answers with her head stuck in the fridge as she paws to the back for Spencer’s La Croix. “I may have wanted to watch one of my movies today, and I may have offered chips in payment.” She fishes a couple cans of LimonCello out, and huffs. “So what’s all this?”

“It’s from JJ. She wanted to come herself but didn’t think bringing Henry over was the best idea,” Spencer explains. He holds his drink gingerly with both hands and peers into the basket. It looks a lot like the one Penelope used for JJ’s baby shower, and is also definitely the same basket. Inside are a few bags of beef jerky, chocolate, a backscratcher with a little pink hand at its end, and an airline neck pillow with the Texas flag patterned over it.

“Awe. I’m definitely baking her cookies,” Penelope says. She leans back against the counter and eyes Spencer up and down. “Tough case?”

Spencer shifts from side to side and looks into the dark pit of his La Croix can. “Not much worse than usual. It was just… long. And Emily would’ve been a big help. None of us speak Spanish.”

“But you didn’t want to call right now,” Penelope guesses. “It’s all over though, right? All good? Everything wrapped up with a bow for good luck?”

Spencer nods and purses his lips. He looks over his shoulder to the living room, where Derek is describing something with his hands and Emily watches, wide-eyed and entertained. Spencer says, more to himself than Penelope, “It’s always good to be home.”

-❤-

Two Weeks Post-Op

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss!”

Emily freezes with one arm reaching desperately above doctor-recommended height, and another gripping the cabinet door like their life depends on it. They press their forehead into the shelf, groaning, “That’s not my middle name.”

“I can make up whatever name I want! You know what Dr. Dolan said, and this is so far out of bounds!” Penelope stands in the kitchen threshold with her hands on her hips. She sighs and tugs Emily away from the cereal cabinet by their waist. When their arms are safely lowered to their sides, Penelope puts on her serious face, with her seriously furrowed eyebrows, and her serious frown on her lips. She asks, “Do you, like, want to injure yourself? Is this your new favorite hobby?”

Emily is petulant. “No, I want breakfast, and it’s on the third shelf. Let’s just pretend you got it for me, okay?”

Penelope grumbles her frustrations under her breath as she pulls down the family size box of Lucky Charms. She flurries around the space until she’s collected a bowl and spoon and settled them on the other side of the kitchen counter, where a bar stool and carton of milk wait for Emily.

“Sit,” Penelope orders. Emily complies with a glint in their eyes.

“Thank you,” they say, saturating their words with genuine love.

“Oh, stuff it.” Penelope pecks a kiss to their cheek regardless. She tries not to think about how cute Emily is when they’re smug, but it’s a losing battle. The way their nose scrunches, the smirk; not helping. Instead, Penelope picks a smidgeon of a fight.

“Your hair is greasy.”

And Emily’s face falls flat and exasperated. They let their spoon rest in the pool of marshmallows. “Can we do this after I eat?”

“Oh, lovebug. Absolutely not,” Penelope smiles knowingly. “You haven’t washed it in like, four days, which tells me that it’s not as easy as you said it was. Y’know, I was wondering who said washing your own hair was too much work immediately after having an operation? It would have to be someone super smart and beautiful and funny and—”

“It was you, Penelope. We all know it was you.”

“Funny; it was, wasn’t it?”

But Penelope lets them finish their cereal. She was about to eat her own Eggo waffles, after all. Once the dishes are rinsed and in the washer, she marches Emily straight into their bathroom. The tub thankfully doesn’t share a wall with the toilet, making it easier for Emily to scoot in next to the faucet. Penelope folds Emily’s towel (the towel that is dark purple, and not spring green, which Penelope keeps carefully out of the splash zone) (unlike Emily, who does not mind if their towel is damp long after it should be dry, and probably growing some type of mold) (okay, it’s not growing mold, but Penelope insists that it will eventually become mold-ridden if Emily doesn’t start hanging it up more consistently) along the side of the tub. Emily fits the towel under their neck, and Penelope guides them into position.

“Your hair is so thick,” Penelope comments.

Emily says, “You tell me that once a week.”

“Because it is. Now close your eyes.”

Penelope detaches the removable showerhead and lets the water warm her hand. When it’s a comfortable temperature, she douses Emily’s head. She maneuvers carefully around Emily’s forehead to avoid hitting their face, though Emily’s eyelids flutter when they worry the stream is near. Penelope thinks with their long eyelashes, they look like butterflies about to take flight.

She works the shampoo in with a gentle, but thorough touch. It’s when she rubs the lather into Emily’s scalp that Emily lets a soft moan break, and Penelope smiles. She takes pride in her work, whether she’s at her desk or in her soapy bathroom.

The shampoo swirls down the drain as Penelope rinses Emily free. Emily opens their eyes and tries to sit up, but Penelope pins their shoulders to the tub.

“Hold on! I haven’t conditioned yet.”

“Isn’t shampoo enough? We’re going to be here again in three days. It’s a hassle.”

Penelope does not think so. For the low price of two-thousand dollars and the risk of post-op complications, Penelope’s seen her girlfriend relax for the first time in, maybe ever. She’s going to drag it out as long as she can. Which, for right now, means dumping a handful of conditioner into her palm and rubbing it through the tips of Emily’s hair.

The final rinse is cleansing, like the weight falls from Emily’s shoulders. Penelope swipes the towel from Emily’s neck and cocoons their hair inside. She manages to keep their shirt dry, for the most part. Emily sits up with a pain in their shoulders, and does their best to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope prompts. Their best is not nearly good enough, not when Penelope has the analytical eye of someone who loves them. Penelope plants Emily on their shared bed for the first time since their surgery, already grateful to have a little of Emily’s smell in the room again. She sits behind them and overlaps their legs with hers. Penelope digs into the knots wound through their back as if she's torturing for information.

“It’s almost like you have a stressful job or something,” Penelope says.

Emily snorts. “Yeah, something like that.”

Penelope massages her way down until Emily feels looser under her fingers. She leans her head into the crook of Emily’s shoulder and presses a kiss to their skin. “We could ask for more time off,” she offers.

Emily slouches against Penelope’s body. “We could. But we have to go back at some point.”

“Let’s pretend we don’t.”

Emily exhales. “Sounds good to me.”

#penemily #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #criminal minds #penemily fic #text #mine #cm

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css1992 · 3 years

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Guilty Pleasure

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Almost two months after moving out of Beck’s place, Peter was able to rent an apartment in the same building as Ned and MJ. It was tiny, of course, but pretty inexpensive, compared to other options he found around that area. Besides, with the money he made with Just4Fans over those few weeks, he would be able to afford it comfortably for at least a few months – largely thanks to YKWIM. He still planned on saving up as much as possible, so he put a lot of effort into making his account grow and it was working – by the end of April, he was up to five hundred subscribers.

He didn’t check to see what Beck was doing, he was too afraid to look and see him with his new boyfriend, but he got lots of comments from his old fans, who still followed Beck, telling him that the new boy had nothing on him. Again, he didn’t dare to check, but the ego boost was nice, even if he didn’t really believe them. Also, he was down to crying once every two days instead of every other day, so he was counting that as a win as well.

His apartment was still pretty empty, specially because he spent most of his time downstairs at his friends’ place, but he decorated the bathroom and his room to the best of his ability, since they would be the background of pretty much all his videos and pictures. He also bought some new lingerie sets, a few costumes and sex toys he wasn’t even sure how to use, but he was slowly figuring them out.

Aside from decorating his room and the bathroom, he also bought an armchair and placed it by the window with a couple of pillows. It was a nice spot to spend the afternoon reading or working on his computer. The light in that apartment was great, sunlight streamed right into his living room and warmed it up nicely. As they approached the end of April, the weather was getting better everyday.

Some days, he felt happy. He felt okay with the fact that he was still doing porn and that it wasn’t a terrible crime. Sure, it wasn’t what he had planned to do with his life, but he was young, he would eventually figure things out. For the time being, he needed that gig and he couldn’t beat himself up for it. Also, it wasn’t so bad now that he was only doing solo stuff.

Some other days, though, were just – hard. He remembered all the videos that were still online and he felt awful for the sole reason that they existed. Not so much for the ones he filmed with Beck, he was somewhat okay with those, the guy was his boyfriend after all, they had sex anyway, the only difference was the camera in the room. But the other ones…

When he started filming with other men, it quickly turned into an unpleasant experience for him. He hated every second of it and always ended up feeling guilty, used and disposable at the end of the day. Beck didn’t make it any better with the way he looked at him afterwards as he told him to get in the shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons why those videos bothered him so much, sometimes it felt like it wasn’t even him in them. It was like he was watching a different person, he looked at himself and felt completely dissociated from that boy – at the same time, he looked at him and he knew – he knew – exactly what he was feeling when those were shot.

But that was a lot to unpack and he just wasn’t ready for that particular crisis.

So in short, sometimes he was still a little unsure about how long he would be able to keep his Just4Fans account, because even though most days he didn’t feel too weird about it, sometimes it reminded him of things he preferred to forget. But that was fine, he was usually able to work around that. Also, most of his subscribers were great and didn’t make him feel like a cheap whore, so he had that going for him as well.

YKWIM was one of the good ones. They chatted almost daily, and Peter always sent him exclusive pictures and videos just because. He never posted those pictures on his feed once he sent them to him, it was their little secret. In return, he got his own collection of short videos of YKWIM finishing himself off. He didn’t know much about the person behind the videos, he’d taken to calling him daddy because most of his subscribers seemed to like it and YKWIM never complained, so it stuck.

Peter did know he lived in New York – which made him shiver – and that he was a businessman of some kind, but he also always talked about a workshop, so Peter wasn’t sure and he avoided asking personal questions. He worked most of the day and into the night, they usually talked when it was late, always around two in the morning.

He traveled a lot, too, and sometimes sent Peter small clips of his hotel rooms or the view from his balcony. In return, Peter sent him pictures of his messy bedroom and the horrible view from his window as a joke. It was nice talking to him, he always made Peter laugh – and then it often ended with a very satisfying orgasm that put him right to sleep, which was awesome.

Peter estimated YKWIM was older than Beck, but not by too much. He clearly had a fit body, which at first led him to believe he was in his thirties, at most; but he noticed YKWIM sometimes talked about the 80’s like he lived them, so he had to be at least in his forties, but Peter couldn’t be sure. He really wished he would show his face, though, it would be nice to have one to fantasize about. But then again, maybe it would ruin the whole thing.

One afternoon, after Peter spent hours taking pictures, shooting videos and editing them so he could post them over the following week, he got a message from YKWIM. He hurried to check it and was shocked to see that he had sent him yet another tip – forty thousand dollars this time.

“For you to buy pretty things so you can show them off to me.” Said the message that came with the money.

Peter almost dropped his phone when he saw it. It had been only five weeks since his last insane tip, so that made fifty thousand dollars in just a little over a month. For, like, thirty nudes. Who even was that guy?

“Wow, daddy, that’s way too much!” He added a flushed face emoji, for lack of something better to say. He was honestly feeling a little overwhelmed, even if the guy had millions to spend, there was no way just giving someone that amount of money was normal.

“That’s not nearly enough for what you’ve given me, baby.” Peter’s cheeks burned.

“I’m very flattered, but please, I really don’t think I deserve all this.” He was pretty sure he sounded pathetic, but that was how he felt, so. Yeah.

“Oh, but you do. Trust me, you really, really do. You’re worth every penny.” Peter bit his lower lip, a little unsure and still a little shocked.

“At least tell me what you’d like to see from me, please. Do you have any kinks that you’d like me to perform? Don’t be shy.” He asked, even though it always made him nervous to offer that kind of thing. Sometimes people were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the weirdest requests.

But, to be fair, he had been talking to YKWIM for over a month, so he somewhat trusted him not to ask for anything too absurd. And then again, the guy had just paid him forty thousand dollars.

��Well, if you insist...” Here it comes, Peter thought, bracing himself. “Red and gold are my favorite colors. I’d love to see you wearing them.” Oh. Not what he was expecting at all.

“Done! Anything else? Come on, there’s gotta be something else.” Again, risky move. But again, forty thousand dollars.

“I’d love to hear you. You’re always so quiet in your videos. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear you call my name.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at that request. It sounded… almost sweet? It obviously wasn’t meant like that, it was completely sexual, but out of all the wild things he could have asked for, he wanted to hear Peter call his name.

“What’s your name, daddy?”

“Tony.” Tony. Peter tested the word out on his tongue, saying it out loud once, twice. Tony. It suited the image he had created in his head. Tony.

“I can definitely do that, Tony. Anything else?”

“Buy yourself something pretty and send me a picture wearing it. Nothing sexual. Something you’d wear to a date with me.” Peter’s breath hitched. He supposed it was probably just a weird, rich people kink or something, but his mind went wild anyway. Very, very wild.

“I don’t know what I’d wear to a date with you, daddy. Any advice?”

“I like expensive and beautiful things such as yourself, baby.”

Normally, Peter wouldn’t appreciate being called expensive, like he was a thing to be bought, but he felt weirdly flattered by the answer. He promised YKW – Tony – he would send everything he requested over the next few days, and he was actually excited about the whole thing. And of course he knew that feeling was trouble, there were warning signs flashing like crazy before his eyes, but he ignored them and convinced himself that he was just having fun and he was allowed to have fun if he was going to keep doing porn. He didn’t have to feel miserable and guilty all the fucking time. He could – and should! – take some pleasure from it. He deserved it.

So the following day he asked MJ to go shopping with him, but he still didn’t tell her the whole story, he just said it was for his Just4Fans and she readily agreed to go. They went to Victoria’s Secret and Peter told her what he had in mind.

“So, how’s the job going? You’re doing okay? Not too overwhelmed?” She asked coolly as they searched through the panties section.

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s different when I’m in control, you know? Like, I know my limits and I don’t need to count on other people to respect them. Well, most of the time. So it’s cool.”

Some subscribers were a little pushy sometimes, asking for things Peter wasn’t willing to do and then getting really aggressive after being told no. But it didn’t affect him as much as it did when Beck ignored his boundaries, because those pushy subscribers could be easily blocked, whereas with Beck, well. It was a different story.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to push your limits, okay?” Michelle stopped what she was doing to grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at her. “If you ever feel like stopping, for whatever reason, just do it. No matter what, you’ll always have me and Ned, understand? We’re family, we’re here for you, we’d never leave you alone. If you want to stop, we’ll figure something out together, you hear me?” The way she looked into his eyes made him understand that she really meant every single word of it.

Family. He had a family with them.

Peter felt silly tearing up in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, so he pulled her into his arms and hid his face in her neck.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he muttered, as she squeezed him a little tighter, before pushing him away.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all teary-eyed on me, come on, you’ll ruin my reputation.” She looked around, sniffing, then stuck her hands in her pockets. Peter laughed halfheartedly, drying the corner of his eyes. “C’mon, there are panties to be bought.”

They spent a couple of hours searching the store, but in the end he found the perfect set. He bought some other pieces, too, for his feed, people had been asking for lingerie a lot lately, after a slightly weird phase of cat ears and tails. Once they left Victoria’s Secret, Peter was nervous because he had to tell MJ at least part of the truth to get her help with the second part of Tony’s request.

“So, listen,” he started and she turned to him, happily sipping her large coffee as they walked down the street. “I have this subscriber. He’s, like, a rich, old dude who always sends me tips and stuff. Anyway, he gave me some money and asked me to buy something nice and pose for him, but like, not in a sexual way. He wants to see me clothed.” She frowned, staring at him suspiciously. “Um. I was wondering if you could help me with that?”

She was silent for a few seconds, just looking at him with narrowed eyes. He looked away discreetly, trying to avoid her mind-reading skills.

“Should I be worried?” She asked, finally. He shook his head and chuckled nervously, waving a hand dismissively.

“He’s harmless, just some lonely, old dude. So, will you help?” He looked at her expectantly. She was still frowning and definitely knew something was up, but she nodded anyway, to Peter’s relief.

“What do you have in mind?” MJ asked and resumed her stroll down the street, Peter had to jog a little to keep up.

“Something expensive and beautiful,” He quoted Tony, like an idiot, because he honestly had no idea what that meant.

“That’s oddly specific and somehow not helpful at all.” She lifted an eyebrow and looked around the busy street. “How expensive are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Very?” He answered nervously, and, yet again, she looked looked like she wanted to rip the truth out of him, but she also knew that was not the way to go with him.

“How much did this guy give you?”

“Um. for – five thousand dollars.” He stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her the actual amount, because it sounded absolutely insane and she would worry unnecessarily.

“Holy shit!? Fuck, why aren’t I doing porn?!” She screeched and Peter hurried to put his hands over her mouth, because at least three people turned around to look at them.

“Don’t even joke about that, you hear me? You have a bright future ahead of you, don’t fuck it up,” he told her seriously and she looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of being annoying, but something in the way he looked at her must have made her realize he meant it.

“Chill, I’m joking.” She patted his shoulder and looked away. “So. Five thousand dollars? We can work with that.”

He was a little scared of the weird gleam in her eyes, but followed her anyway.

They spent the rest of the afternoon shopping, it was a lot of fun and he even got her a pair of shoes she kept staring longingly at. She was worried they would go over the budget because she wanted him to save some of the money, but he assured her he could afford it. They managed to put together a great outfit that he was very confident about and then called Ned to meet them for dinner in the evening.

Later, they took the subway home and, for a while, he felt like a normal 20-year-old guy – happy, weightless and just a little heartbroken, like everyone was bound to be at some point in life. He was going to be okay, he realized. That thought hit him like a punch in the face and it felt fucking awesome.

He rested his head on Ned’s shoulder with a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of MJ’s hand on his thigh.

It was around midnight when he got home, which for him was still a little early, he had developed the terrible habit of going to bed well after two in the morning – he blamed Tony, but to be fair, many of his subscribers were mostly active around that time as well. He debated whether or not he should start working on Tony’s requests, he was a little tired from a long day of walking around carrying bags, but also surprisingly eager to show the older man what he got for him.

He took the Victoria’s Secret bag and displayed the new outfit on the bed. It was a simple, but beautiful lingerie set. What Peter loved most about it was the fabric – it was made of deep red satin, smooth and glossy, and it felt simply amazing on the skin.

He decided to try it on, just to make sure it fit properly.

The top was a delicate bralette, two little triangles only big enough to hide his nipples and a little bit of his pecs. It was the perfect size for him, it sat flush with his skin, no unflattering cup gaps. The panties were tiny, Peter wasn’t too sure about those back in the store, he was worried not everything would fit in it. It did, but just barely, but it actually worked in his favor, in his humble opinion. Lastly, he put on the garter belt, which was just a thin piece of fabric that went around his waist, with two straps that hung down to clasp onto two elastic bands that went around his thighs.

Since Tony said red and gold, he also put on a thick, golden choker, just to see how it would look.

Once he was dressed, he went to check in the mirror. He bit his lower lip, running his hand over the fabric that covered his chest. It felt really smooth, and the way it brushed against his nipples sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and imagined it was Tony’s hands on his body. They looked strong enough to hurt, but he imagined they would be gentle with him, as they traced a path from his collarbone to his neck, to wrap themselves around his throat – but not tight enough to choke him, just a promise.

He sighed, as if to check that he could still breath under the pressure, and slowly slid his hands down from his neck, brushing his hard nipples on their way down to the front of the panties – God, it was so smooth...

For some reason, he imagined Tony would be a gentle lover. Maybe it was the way he talked to him, always so charming, all sweetheart and baby, all praise and compliments. Maybe it was the way he never demanded anything, only asked nicely, all please and thank you.

Tony wouldn’t ruin him, like he promised so many times in those last few weeks, he would fuck him long and slow, raspy voice whispering sweet praise in his ear, rough hands holding him down, hips snapping with each unrelenting thrust.

He bit his lips, knees buckling as he felt the front of the panties getting wet, while his leaking cock struggled to get free.

Well, then.

He grabbed his camera from the closet and positioned it on a tripod in front of the bed, just a few feet away, and programmed it to take pictures every five seconds. He sat on the bed, facing the camera, feet still on the floor, and just closed his eyes for a minute, letting a sigh escape his lips as the fantasy from before filled his mind again.

He spread his legs and his fingers reached down to the front of his panties again. His cock felt impossibly hard, straining against the delicate fabric, dark pink tip peeking out of over the top of the tiny underwear. He touched himself slowly, hips rocking lightly to match the pace of his own hand, as he listened to the clicks of the pictures being taken.

He had to force himself to stop, before he lost control, and moved to kneel on the bed, with his side facing the camera, and lowered his chest until it was touching the mattress, letting his back curve in a sinful arch, head turned to the side, staring right at the lens. At Tony. Imagining what he would do if he were there.

He sat back on his heels and turned his back to the camera, spreading his knees, each of his hands grabbing one ass cheek, pulling them apart, only a thin, barely there strip of fabric hiding his nakedness. He looked over his shoulder and waited for the camera to take at least a couple of pictures.

Next, he laid on his back, side facing the camera again, left hand rubbing one nipple over the silky fabric, as the right one reached down the front of the panties, to finally give himself some sort of relief. He let out an almost pained moan as he wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it slowly, once, twice, but all that teasing was driving him a little insane.

He knew he should probably take a few more pictures, but he also knew wouldn’t last much longer.

He got off the bed and went to the dresser where he kept all of his “work stuff”. He grabbed a tube of lube and a vibrator that was neither too small, nor too big, it was a size Peter was comfortable with.

He switched the camera to video mode, pressed record and resumed his position on the bed, knees on the bed, holding his lower body up, and chest resting on the mattress. He squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pushed the panties a little to the side and circled his hole gently, slowly, because that was how he imagined Tony would do it. Those big, rough hands would have grabbed him by the hips, put him in that exact position, before teasing him mercilessly.

He moaned quietly and closed his eyes, rubbing slow circles around his rim, pressing a little against his entrance, but not hard enough to breach it. He felt his cock pulsing, begging for attention, but he didn’t dare to touch it, not yet.

“Tony, please...” He whined, pushing his hips back against his own hand, he was so lost in his fantasy he almost forgot he didn’t need to beg. Almost. “I need you...”

Gently, he started pushing one finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, he was so aroused he barely felt the burn, just delicious pressure that made his eyes roll to the back of his head. He started fucking himself on his finger, feeling the muscles around it slowly make way.

“’Been thinking about you, Tony…” he rasped out, hips pushing back against his hand. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout you...” When he felt loose enough, he pushed another finger inside, the stretch becoming a little more noticeable as he slowly scissored himself open. He got on all fours and turned his back to the camera to give Tony a better view, all spread out for him, and kept fucking himself, picking up the pace once just those two fingers weren’t enough. “Fuck, daddy, need you so bad...”

He eased the fingers out of himself, sighing at the loss, and reached for the vibrator that was sitting on the bed and turned to face the camera again. He knelt on the bed and, with one hand, he propped the vibrator up on the mattress, holding it down from behind him, as with the other hand he guided its tip to his already abused hole.

He flicked the switch and it vibrated to life, nudging against his hole before finally slipping in. Peter’s breath hitched at the intrusion, feeling the delicious burn on his lower back, as he moved his hips up and down slowly, trying to push more of it inside with each painful thrust.

“Fuck me, Tony,” he begged, as his free hand finally reached for his neglected cock, pumping it hard and fast, matching the maddening pace his hips set. He lost all sense of rhythm when he felt the tip of the vibrator finally – finally – reach his prostate and he pushed it even further in, until the pressure against the bundle of nerves became too much and he exploded in one of the best orgasms he had had in a long, long time. “Oh, f-fuck!” His vision went dark for a second as he let himself fall back on the bed, wasted.

He spent almost ten minutes just lying there, trying to catch his breath and regain consciousness. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that, he was boneless, floaty, completely satisfied. It was honestly the best he felt in months.

When his legs stopped shaking, he got up and headed straight to the shower, still feeling a little dizzy and weak, but he wasn’t complaining.

Once he was finished, he debated whether he should just go to bed or send Tony what he had, but with the way he was feeling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so easily. So decided to send at least the pictures right away, even though it was nearing 3AM. Peter knew Tony was probably up, the man did say that he was an insomniac and that he sometimes went days without any real sleep, so it wasn’t a surprise when he answered just a few minutes after Peter sent them.

“Holy fuck, Peter!!” Peter bit his lower lip, burying his face in the pillow to hide his blush, even though he was alone in his room.“What the fuck, baby, it’s three in the morning, are you trying to fucking kill me?!”

“So you like them?” He asked with feigned innocence.

“I fucking love them, you little tease, these are hands down my favorites yet. I swear I’m gonna have them framed and hung in my workshop and I’ll spend the rest of my fucking days just writing odes to you.” Peter giggled into the pillow, turning on his side to get more comfortable on the bed.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” He joked lightly, blushing again, which was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck no! You’re something else, kitten, and you don’t even know it.” Peter suppressed a smile, biting his lower lip.

“Are you touching yourself right now, daddy?”

“To be honest, I’m so fucking hard I think I’m gonna come instantly if I even brush my fingers on my cock. I’m literally just staring at the pictures right now and worrying I’m gonna come untouched just from that.” Peter laid on his stomach and bit the pillow, gently rocking his hips against the bed.

“That’s so hot. Can I see it?”

Seconds later, there was a video in the chat. He played it immediately and, sure enough, Tony wasn’t kidding. His cock was rock hard, throbbing, the head was an angry purple, already glistening with pre-cum. Tony was just holding it at the base, not daring to touch it, and the whole thing almost made Peter hard again, but he was really exhausted.

“Fuck, daddy, I really wish I could help you with that.”

“Oh, you don’t even know what I wish.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes and Peter figured he had gone to sleep, but then his phone beeped, alerting him to another message from him. It was, of course, a picture of Tony’s spent cock, resting against his belly, which was covered in come, so much of it Peter’s mouth watered.

“Was it good, daddy?”

“The best, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m gonna sleep like a baby today.” Peter chuckled. Tony always said that was high praise coming from someone who hardly ever slept and the younger man took his word for it.

“Goodnight, Tony. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it, Pete.”

He knew he was fucked the second he tried to suppress a small smile, but couldn’t.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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morkofday · 3 years

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#10YearPromise - pingxie blabberings

bc i wasn’t able to answer these questions throughout the week (as i’ve been traveling around while being extremely busy), i decided to just collect all of my answers under one post! i never tire talking about pingxie so this was extremely enjoyable ♥ am also practicing some very shameless self promo in this so be prepared!

thank you for @laireshi for organizing this event (i take it’s you alone? am not sure, sorry for my laziness) and being amazing in general ^^ i won’t be able to join as i am still very busy and summer is always pure chaos for me, so i can only hope that other ppl have fun! if you are not aware of 10 Year Promise Pingxie Exchange, you can find the original announcement post here. join in if you have the time and inspiration ^^

and then to my answers which i will be placing under the cut bc i don’t want to flood anyone’s dash with me going bonkers over these two idiots. enjoy tho if you decide to read this :’D ♥

I. What made you ship pingxie?

Back when I got into Reboot bc of ZYL (as has happened to many ppl probably) and then saw stuff about pingxie once I started going through that drama’s tag on tumblr, my first thought about them was that they had to be a crack ship. The way Reboot portrays them as well as their actors and their huuuge age difference affected this a lot, and I was actually cackling at them bc all their moments in Reboot made me just go “oh, socialist brotherhood at its best” in my head. But then I finished watching Reboot’s 1st season (as the 2nd one wasn’t out yet) and started reading some fics. I learned more about them and the canon storyline. I learned how damn devoted they are to each other, and after that, many moments in Reboot gained new meaning in my eyes. So, I think what made me ship pingxie was a mix of Reboot (especially the hallucination moment where Xiaoge dies and Wu Xie loses it bc that’s my jam as I later on became to notice) and then the amazing fics I dug out during that time. After that the love grew stronger as I watched the other dramas, and these days I’m a lost cause. I feel like I spend most of my awake time thinking about these two and their love. They are amazing. I cry rivers for them.

II. Which pingxie version is your favorite?

After finding pingxie, I fell in love with them properly during TLT2. There is just something about that stage of their relationship for me, the stage where both of them are still very tentative about everything but they have deep down accepted that they’re tied now. Wu Xie is figuring out so many things, coming to terms with being betrayed by his uncle and slowly realizing that something bigger is going on behind the scenes. Meanwhile, Xiaoge is learning how to trust Wu Xie and how to accept that he cannot leave this naïve boy behind. It feels very fragile, and I have so many emotions about TLT2 bc of this. Xiaoge is so soft and feels very multilayered. Wu Xie is still his naïve self but is slowly gaining some sharper edges as he comes to face the cruel world. I like how Cheng Yi and Hou Minghao have portrayed this dynamic. Also, TLT2 is just very extra with all the pingxie scenes, who would be able to resist loving them? So, I have to admit that my favorite pingxie is these two, tho Ultimate Note comes very, very close.

III. What’s your favorite pingxie headcanon?

Headcanons are a bit hard for me as I don’t know enough of the canon. I have not read the novels so most of the story I’ve just patched together from all the bits I’ve read from somewhere (here, on twt, in fics) and through the scenes the dramas have shown me. I feel like the whole world is lowkey made of headcanons for me :’D But hmm, my favorite pingxie headcanon… I’d say there are two and then one bonus bc it’s more a Wu Xie related headcanon than just pingxie. The first one is that the pingxie confession happens after the Bronze Gate. It feels like the only moment when they’re both ready for such a thing. I’d say Xiaoge comes to realize his own feelings a lot earlier and he might tell something to unconscious Wu Xie before leaving for ten years, but he will not actually leave Wu Xie with such a burden. He doesn’t want to ask anything when it sounds like he doesn’t even believe that Wu Xie will be willing to wait for him, and I’d say that for him, his feelings are going to be fine even if Wu Xie never learns about them. He might even wish that Wu Xie never learns about them bc he’s not able to promise much as an immortal and amnesiac being (he outlives Wu Xie, most likely forgets him). For Wu Xie however, I’d say he needs time. He really is way too naïve and I’d say that he needs those ten years to realize that he’s in love with his best friend. I dunno who confesses first after Xiaoge returns but I think that only after that decade their relationship is “mature” enough to hold the weight of a confession (even if I also love to play around with the thought of them getting together during the events of Ultimate Note bc that drama offered many good chances for that). Another headcanon for me is that Xiaoge will find a way to die when Wu Xie does. After learning about them more, I feel like Reboot implies this too. Xiaoge is very accepting of Wu Xie’s death but in the last moments, when he really thinks that this is going to be it for Wu Xie, he hesitates. We see a spark of desperation there, and I’ve come to think that his initial plan, the plan he came up with once he got that call from Wu Xie and knew he would join Wu Xie on his last adventure, was to see this through for Wu Xie’s sake and then leave and die alone. I don’t know how much there would be left for Zhang Qiling after Wu Xie is gone. I feel like this is also what Wu Xie fears. But would he really resent Xiaoge for joining him in death after living such a long and hard life? I’d say no and I’d say that even Pangzi accepts this as one of the most likely outcomes. The bonus one then feels very personal to me. I don’t usually talk about this bc I feel so unsure of even mentioning this but I’ve seen others with similar thoughts so am sharing! I’ve never before gotten any vibes about a character’s sexuality in a drama I’ve watched but Reboot Wu Xie looked at me once in the eye and all I could hear was my brain yelling “asexual”. So, that is just my personal headcanon for Wu Xie. He’s ace and proud of it. He can flirt etc. but sex makes him go naah. He doesn’t need it or want it. He can appreciate beauty and hot ppl without wanting to sleep with them and I think his relationship with Xiaoge fits very well into this. I don’t have any personal experiences with being ace but I feel like Wu Xie has read the name once, shrugged and gone, “guess that’s me” and continued on with his life. He’s badass like that and I love him for it. (take a very relevant meme lol from this post)

IV. What’s the ideal pingxie date?

Ah, christ. I dunno if I’ve ever thought about them going on a date? In the middle of tomb raiding, hospital trips and fighting against powers bigger than themselves, I’ve rarely seen any time for them to do something like that lol. But after Ultimate Note, I’ve thought about star gazing a lot. Just them, the infinite night sky and some lonely hilltop. They would probably take a blanket with them, huddle together and talk about things in hushed voices. Wu Xie would go on a ramble about all the constellations and their meanings and mythology behind them and Xiaoge would just nod at him and watch Wu Xie talking. Maybe he would offer some tidbits in the middle of the rambling, making Wu Xie smile brightly. It would be relaxing and comfortable and loving. They would make out a lil bit. Would maybe lie down and play with each other’s hair. All their worries would feel insignificant. Wu Xie would fall asleep for a moment and Xiaoge would wake him up with a kiss to get him moving again so that they don’t need to sleep on the cold ground. They would return home and drink something warm and then go to sleep, cuddled together and happy. relevant edit x

V. What’s your favorite pingxie getting together scenario?

I guess I already talked about this a bit but let me elaborate then! As said, I’d see it happening after the Bronze Gate. I am not sure if it would be right away (they’re both going through so much trauma at that point) or if it would happen after Reboot (maybe we would still need Wu Xie almost dying for them to get their shit together), but I’d say it happens in a rush either way. It’s one of those “I have to tell you something before it’s too late” -type of moments. Or one of those “Bc I love you, you idiot!” -type of moments. I feel like I keep thinking that maybe Wu Xie would have to confess first bc as said, Xiaoge wouldn’t like to burden Wu Xie with his feelings when there’s so little he can give in the sense of normalcy. But then again, I have written a oneshot where Xiaoge is the first one to confess and that always feels better for me. That at some point Xiaoge feels secure enough to tell Wu Xie about his own feelings. That he feels confident and comfortable enough to say it out loud while still expecting nothing in return bc he knows that Wu Xie won’t abandon him either way. But no matter how that happens, I always see it as this dam breaking. The emotions finally become too strong. Something happens that reminds them that life is too short. Something happens that makes them finally talk it out and ah, Pangzi can finally take a break, what a joy

VI. What’s your favorite pingxie moment?

Every adaptation has its own good moments so let me make a list (like I saw someone else do too):

The Lost Tomb:

Xiaoge rescues Wu Xie from the shibie

Wu Xie worrying over unconscious Xiaoge plus taking care of him in the hotel room

The Pingxie MomentTM aka Xiaoge saving Wu Xie from falling and then cradling the boy to his chest while thumb rubbing his shoulder

The Lost Tomb 2:

Xiaoge revealed to be Baldie and Wu Xie yelling at him about it

Lowkey the whole underwater tomb arc bc holy shit that’s gay

Wu Xie losing it when Xiaoge doesn’t come up from the underwater tomb, diving after him and then almost dying himself + Pangzi getting angry at him for being stupid

pingxie ft. magical skype in the bronze tree cave (and Xiaoge being emo about the 1000yo warrior guy right before that)

Xiaoge rescuing Wu Xie from drowning (they shared air, you cannot convince me otherwise) + Wu Xie giving Xiaoge his watch in the hospital (relevant edits x x)

Wu Xie’s face when he sees Zhang Buxun in the coffin bc I love pain :)

Xiaoge not shooting Wu Xie despite not remembering him in the mountain village

Wu Xie grabbing Xiaoge’s jacket after being kidnapped and the Iron Triangle reunites in that old Chen guy’s cabin, asking, “Is that you?” from Xiaoge to make sure that he remembers again while looking like the biggest puppy (relevant edit x)

also some relevant memes x

Ultimate Note:

The hand over mouth reunion in the Golmud Sanatorium

“Xiaoge will ignore anyone else but you”

Xiaoge pretending he isn’t Losing ItTM throughout the whole time Wu Xie is in the Devil’s City with A-Ning

more hand over mouth with the gigantic snake

“The goddess has ascended”

Wu Xie protecting Xiaoge after he returns from the jade meteorite

“Do you remember me?” “Wu Xie.”

Wu Xie promising to help Xiaoge find his memories no matter what bc Xiaoge’s business is Wu Xie’s business

“Maybe you can return home with a wife today.” Wu Xie: proceeds to stare at Xiaoge, horrified

“Take me home.”

The sword gifting scene (especially Xiaoge denying the possibility of him killing Wu Xie or them harming each other, relevant edits x x)

other relevant edits for ultimate note x x

Reboot:

Wu Xie telling Xiaoge about his sickness and then Xiaoge coming back and promising to join Wu Xie on his trip (relevant edit x)

the death hallucination bc am a masochist

Wu Xie’s death dream where Xiaoge calls to him but then accepts his choice to move forward bc am a masochist pt. 2

pingxie reunion in the Thunder City forest where Xiaoge saves Wu Xie & co. from the poisonous gas

the moment in Thunder City where Wu Xie sits outside at night, eating the peanuts Pangzi gave him and then notices Xiaoge, offering him the peanuts and smiling

when Xiaoge leaves for the last time and then gets reunited with healed Wu Xie against all odds

the train scene and their softest smiles to each other

Time Raiders:

Wu Xie being the best bean and just wanting to befriend this mysterious man while seeing right under his skin and making Xiaoge baffled and fall in love in approximately 0.5 seconds

Xiaoge, catch! *proceeds to save only Wu Xie when they fall into that shibie horror chamber*

Xiaoge’s desperation to save Wu Xie from the crumbling ground

their death waltz at the end of the movie plus Xiaoge’s sacrifice

+ Sand Sea:

“Don’t you dare call him Xiaoge!”

Wu Xie offering his friends and then himself as comfort to Li Cu when he’s scared while smiling very softly at the memory of Xiaoge

“But isn’t his surname Wu?” Hei Xiazi: You have seen nothing yet, you sweet summer child

Wu Xie talking about Xiaoge’s past in the temple (aka the Tibetan Sea Flower story bc I just adore how pretty they’ve made those scenes)

VII. What is the best gift Wu Xie and Xiaoge could give each other?

I haven’t really thought about this type of stuff either bc we have already seen a ton of gifts being exchanged! I love the watch Wu Xie gives to Xiaoge in TLT2 as mentioned (it’s so silly but also so sweet) and I love it that Wu Xie gifts Xiaoge with a new sword in Ultimate Note. Also, I feel like I can count the food Wu Xie leaves for Xiaoge in Ultimate Note and that one moment where Xiaoge offers his knife for Wu Xie as a “pen”. They would give anything for each other as long as the other asked (which they never do) so I dunno what type of gift would matter the most. As it’s so hard to say, let me talk about one more headcanon that I’ve been thinking about ever since the infamous Bazaar photoshoot for Ultimate Note/XYL & ZSX. So, we see them having matching rings and necklaces in that photoshoot. I think jewelry would be kind of difficult for Xiaoge to wear when he needs to fight, as jewelry could be a hindrance in that type of situation But my brain won’t shut up about “pingxie married!!!” when I ask this question from it. To be honest, I do not see pingxie getting married in the traditional sense. They don’t need something like that after everything they’ve gone through. But I like to play around with the thought of promise rings. Just them exchanging rings for fun, for their own sakes, to have something concrete that reminds them of their promise to each other and of their feelings. Maybe even Xiaoge could wear that ring under his gloves idk. But am a sucker for that thought so my answer to this is then simply: a ring. relevant edits x x

if you read this far, thank you so much! I hope this gave you something and thank you once more for organizing this and allowing everyone to share their love for pingxie ^^ ♥

#10yearpromise #pingxie #dmbj #yes i ramble without any purpose #yes i love them a normal amount :)#thank you for organizing this!!#and sorry for coming at you like this #i hope you don't mind #am wishing you luck with the event!!#and hoping everyone has fun #i hope everything in this post #works like it's supposed to #bc oh boy did i struggle

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xofanfics · 4 years

Text

String - Part VII

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader x Sehun

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ.

You took extra care with your outfit tonight. Not that you wouldn’t take extra care anyway, being that you were going on a date. Conveniently, you’d see Baekhyun too.

You ended up pushing your date with Sehun back to nine instead of seven. He didn’t seem to have an issue with it, thankfully. He said, “Go support your friends. The jazz bar isn’t going anywhere.”

“Thanks for understanding,” you said. “He asked me to come at the last minute.”

“It’ll be fun. Just save a little bit of energy for me,” he said, chuckling.

“What’s that supposed to mean, hm? Why do I need energy?”

“So you don’t fall asleep mid drink, you little perv.”

The two of you burst into laughter. For someone who wasn’t actively trying to have sex with you, he did enjoy making dirty jokes. You didn’t mind. It reminded you of the stupid, slick comments Baekhyun used to make when you’d wear short skirts. He’d whisper, “Are you going to let me eat you out later? I think my head fits perfectly between your legs,” while your friends weren’t paying attention. You smiled at the distant memory but then you shook it off, bringing yourself back to a Baekhyun-less reality.

You felt bad pursuing Sehun when you still sort of had these unresolved feelings for Baekhyun but you needed to move on. It wasn’t that you were using Sehun. You actually liked him a lot and you could see this going somewhere. He was a good guy and, to be honest, it seemed like you had more in common with him than with Baekhyun. But still, for reasons you had yet to discover, it felt like your heart would burst out of your chest and jump on Baekhyun if it could.

You looked in the mirror. You were wearing a long sleeved maroon colored dress, a few inches above your knees. It was long enough to cover your butt and short enough to show off your legs. The dress hung off both of your shoulders, showing off some skin. You wore a pair of stud earrings and a simple necklace that wasn’t too dressy. Your date was at a jazz bar and you figured you’d dress up a bit. You admitted to yourself that you had a double agenda, hoping that Baekhyun noticed you and even more so, delusionally hoping that he’d want you back.

You slid on your black booties and put your bag over your shoulder. You checked for your phone, keys, and wallet before heading out of the door. Excitement ran through you and so did anxiety. Tonight could go very good, very badly, or very neutrally. Could you handle it?

People were piling into the auditorium as you arrived a bit later than expected. Sadie and Evie told you they’d saved you a seat and were waiting for you somewhere on the right side. You’d find them eventually. Since the lights were still on, you found your friends easily. You squeezed past other people, making your way to the middle of the row.

“Hey guys,” you said, plopping down next to Daren.

“Well, well, well,” said Daren. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

You smiled, giving him a quick hug before sitting down. You waved to Sadie and Evie on the other side of him. “I’m sorry I’ve been MIA…”

“Yeah and, uh, I…”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to feel bad for me or anything. I’m fine.”

Relief washed over your friend and the lights dimmed. The host went onto the stage, taking the microphone in his hands. “Hey, hey, hey! I know we’re all super excited to be here this evening. I’m your host Kalled…”

You started tuning him out, thinking again of how the night would go. Would you be able to speak if Baekhyun stood in front of you? What kinds of things would you say? Part of you wanted to be mean, to hurt his feelings like he did to you. But the other part wasn’t sure.

“The first group to compete in the Battle of the Orgs: Dance Edition is…”

To be honest, you weren’t quite paying attention. You knew that KSA was going last and you had no interest in the Bollywood dancing or the Chinese fan dance or the hip-hop or the ballet. You even found yourself dozing off. Daren nudged you as the host announced the group you actually cared about.

You rubbed sleep from your eyes as the first song came on: Under Cover by A.C.E. You watched the group’s sharp movements and, if you didn’t know them, you’d think that they might be professionals. Baekhyun liked to dance but you had no idea that he could pull this off. You watched the way his body moved in his black shirt and joggers. You watched as his body twisted and turned. He looked concentrated and, knowing the person Baekhyun was, you knew that he could be a bit of a perfectionist when it came to things like this.

You sighed to yourself as they started performing Sha La La by Pentagon. You wondered what this girlfriend of his was like and if she was here. Did she get him flowers or something to congratulate him on his performance? Was she here right now, in this crowd? You didn’t know anything about this girl so far and that was part of what killed you. And you supposed it was better off not knowing because then you’d find yourself comparing and contrasting.

Before you knew it, they performed Regular by NCT 127 and their performance was over. As the crowd roared and people put in their votes, you tuned it all out. All you could think about was Baekhyun. Why did this have to be so hard? Why was it so hard to move on when Baekhyun already let you know that you weren’t the person he wanted? Shouldn’t it be easy? Shouldn’t you think, “Fuck him!” Why was it that your heart still clinging onto those feelings?

As predicted, KSA’s dance team won the competition and the crowd roared again. Your friends jumped up and down next to you, yelling and shouting for your friends. You clapped but you didn’t jump. Right about now, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel excited. You didn’t want to feel like this but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to leave. You didn’t want to face Baekhyun but you also knew that you couldn’t hide from him forever. Eventually, you’d cross paths again and you’d have to act like a reasonable adult.

The auditorium started to empty out and you led the way out into the hallway. You excused yourself to the bathroom so that you could gain your bearings. You went to the bathroom and washed your hands. You turned the water off and dried your hands. You took a deep breath, looking in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look as distressed as you felt. For now, you could pull it off. Chill out, Y/N, you told yourself as you walked out of the bathroom and back into the hallway where you left your friends.

Before you could even search for them yourself, you found them standing with a man whose face you knew all too well. You knew it wasn’t their fault that Baekhyun was there because it was no one’s job to protect your feelings. After all, they were still friends with Baekhyun even if your relationship with him was up in the air.

You took a deep breath, as you’d been spotted not only by Baekhyun but by Drew. It was too late to run in the opposite direction so you did your best and made your way over to your friends.

“Y/N, hey,” said Evie, attempting to break the ice that had formed between you and Baekhyun. You stood a safe distance away from Baekhyun, choosing to stand next to Sadie instead of next to Daren which would bring you dangerously close to Baekhyun.

“Hey guys,” you said, as a general greeting just so that Baekhyun didn’t assume you were speaking to him directly. You could feel his eyes on you like glue. “The performance was really good. Good job…”

“Thanks,” said Drew and Baekhyun at the same time.

Baekhyun let out a nervous laugh before Evie cleared her throat. “So, is anyone up for a party tonight?”

“I’m down,” said Baekhyun.

Drew looked at Daren. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”

“Whose party?”

“One of the girls was saying that there’s an Airbnb party tonight. Whoever’s throwing the party must be rich. I heard his dad is a diplomat from Ethiopia. It’s some place that’s not too far. A little further uptown. I followed her on Instagram. She posted the address on her story,” Evie explained.

“Y/N, are you coming?”

You shook your head. “I actually have plans tonight.”

Sadie said, “Just bring him with you!”

Before you could say anything else, someone crashed into Baekhyun and wrapped their arms around him. She said, “You did amazing, babe.”

Baekhyun smiled back at her. “Thank you.” He planted a kiss on her forehead, just like he used to do to you.

There she was, in all her fucking glory. Miss Kira had blessed you with her presence after all this time. Not only did you have to have a run-in with Baekhyun but with his new girlfriend, too. This was the cherry on top of all of your problems. Kira looked up and greeted the rest of your friends. She said, “I’m Kira. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Baekhyun said, “Kira, Y/N. Y/N, this is my girlfriend Kira.”

If everyone was being honest, you’d admit that you wanted to punch her in her pretty face. You’d admit that you wanted to pull her stupid long, bone straight hair. You’d admit that you wanted to rip her jacket in two. But you didn’t admit any of those things. And you definitely weren’t being honest.

She smiled at you as she reached out her hand. Mustering the fakest smile you could, you smiled back and shook the bitch’s hand. You felt bad referring to her as a bitch, even in your thoughts. But it’s what your brain did automatically. When you thought of the name Kira, you couldn’t help but think of the word bitch to go along with it.

Kira the bitch.

Bitchy ass Kira.

The bitch-who-stole-Baekhyun Kira.

What sucked for you is that she didn’t seem like the type of girl to be a bitch. Hating her would be a lot easier if she had her nose up in the air as if she was better than you or if she was acting standoffish. But meeting her face to face tonight, she seemed excited to meet you, another one of Baekhyun’s friends.

“Nice to meet you,” you said even though you didn’t mean it.

You cleared your throat and turned to Sadie. “I’ll ask him. He just said he’s outside.”

You weaved in and out of clusters of students, the post-performance buzz had spilled out onto the sidewalks. You heard the chatter of your classmates, with most of them trying to figure out plans for the night. Just like you, you had no idea what the plan was for tonight. You didn’t even know if Sehun would agree. Your mind was pretty much a jumble after dealing with seeing Baekhyun and meeting Kira for the first time ever.

You found Sehun standing across the street, on the corner. You jogged across the street once the road was clear to cross. He smiled upon your arrival and pulled you into a quick hug. “Wow. You look good.”

You smiled as you pulled away from his hug. “Thanks.”

“Are you ready to head out?”

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to go to this party instead,” you said.

“What kind of party?”

“There’s just this rich kid who rented out an airbnb a little further uptown. A lot of people are trying to go.” You cleared your throat. “My friends asked if I wanted to go and said that I should bring you. But don’t feel pressured to go. We already made plans but I just wanted—”

“Let’s go,” he said, much to your surprise.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I haven’t been to a college party in a couple years. I’m down to relive college for a night.”

“Are you sure?”

“As long as I get to hang out with you, I’m happy.”

You smiled. “Thanks. Plus, I think my friends kinda wanna meet you.”

He returned your smile. “I’m great with friends.”

You liked this about Sehun too. Even though he seemed more reserved, he was still very open and friendly. You had no doubts that your friends would like him. Hell, you figured Drew and Daren would probably like him, too. Sehun was the ideal man and you knew that. You just wished that your heart would keep that in mind, too. You were trying to forget about Baekhyun but your heart was holding you back. You had to push him out to make room for Sehun, because you deserved better.

Your friends spotted you before you spotted them. Sehun looked past you and nodded behind you. “Are these your friends?”

You turned around and found Sadie and Evie walking toward you. “Heeeeeeyyy,” sang Evie. “There you are.” Sadie wrapped her arm around your shoulder as your face turned a little red with embarrassment.

With a sigh, you said, “Well looks like they found us. These are my friends Evie and Sadie.”

They shook hands with him and Sehun said, “My name’s Sehun.”

“So you’re the guy that’s been stealing our friend away the past couple weekends,” said Sadie.

“Nice to meet you,” said Evie.

Sehun said, “So I heard there’s a party?”

“Yeah,” Evie answered. “You’re coming right? I figured we should pregame or something.”

“My place isn’t too far. We could go there. I have a couple bottles of something or another,” Sehun said.

And that was that. The four of you headed to Sehun’s house in Chelsea. To be honest, you’d never been there. You had no idea what his house looked like. And to be honest another time, you realized that you assumed that he lived in Brooklyn like you. But tonight was full of surprises, clearly.

The four of you walked into a luxury building that was a thousand times better than the third floor walk up you lived in. As you walked into the lobby, the concierge said, “Good evening.” Sehun nodded and led you and your friends toward the elevators. The gray floors were so shiny that you could almost see yourself in them. You gawked at the grand chandelier hanging above you as you waited for the elevator.

As the elevator arrived, Sehun held his arm out and let you and your friends on first. Evie whispered in your ear, “What a gentleman...”

You smiled to yourself as the four of you got out on the nineteenth floor. Sehun led you down a long hallway, ending up at the end of the hallway. He took out his key and let everyone inside. He flipped the light switch and put his keys down on the kitchen counter.

“Make yourselves at home,” he said. “I’m gonna see what we have. My roommate had some leftover bottles from a get together we had a couple weeks ago.”

You nodded and sat on the couch, sandwiched between your friends. You watched as Sehun rummaged through the mahogany kitchen cabinets. He looked so concentrated and you couldn’t help but notice how he raised his eyebrow at the bottle holding the brown liquid in question. He held up two half full, half empty bottles. One was clear and one was dark.

Sauntering into the living room, Sehun held up the two bottles. “Light or dark?”

“Light,” the three of you said.

“You’re scared of dark liquor huh?”

“It always gives me a hangover,” said Evie.

Sadie nodded in agreement. “Do you have some juice or something to chase it with?”

Sehun started walking back toward the kitchen. He opened the fridge. “Yeah. Looks like there’s some orange juice and if you guys want something different, I have some of that shitty lemonade mix. And there’s Sprite.”

“Vodka lemonade sounds good,” you said. “We can top it with sprite.”

Evie nudged you. “Go help him!”

You laughed and got up, heading into the kitchen to join him. “Need some help?”

He looked up, smiling. “I could always use some help. Apparently I’m a little heavy handed with adding sugar...” You started helping Sehun, grabbing measuring cups and the sugar jar as he washed the pitcher.

He got four glasses and started pouring a little vodka in each. “How about a shot to get started?”

You were tipsy. Not too drunk but not too sober either. The drinks you and Sehun made were pretty good. There wasn’t much sprite left in the bottle so the four of you had to make it stretch a bit. And Sehun was right about being heavy handed because the first batch of lemonade ended up being sugar water rather than lemonade. Luckily, you had salvaged it, dumping some of the water in the sink and adding more water.

Sehun got more and more outgoing as the night went on. He told your friends about the night you met and how you stood out to him and how he felt like he had to talk to you. When you disappeared for a moment into the bathroom, you heard him say that he was starting to like you. This made you smile. It felt good to be wanted. It felt good to not have to question a man’s feelings for you.

To be honest, you liked him too. You enjoyed his company and he made you feel like the only girl in the world. When he spoke to you, he only saw you. You could tell that he’d invested a lot in you so far. You didn’t have to wonder if he was entertaining other women. He told you that he wasn’t like that and you could tell that he was being genuine. Sehun was the most genuine guy that you’d met in a long time. He wasn’t about bullshit and pulling you around on a string for weeks, months, and so on only to drop you at the last minute. For the first time in a long time, you saw a clear path in front of you. There were no bumps or obstacles standing in your way. It was a straight shot.

When you came back in the living room, Sehun had turned some music on and he started singing “Diamonds” by Rihanna. You and your friends joined in on the song and started singing and dancing around the couch and coffee table, clutching your vodka soda lemonade drinks in your hands. It was going to be a good night, you thought.

Before you knew it, it was about to hit ten o’clock. Evie let everyone know that people were starting to head to the party. As you left Sehun’s apartment, Sadie added that Baekhyun was most likely coming too. But, at this moment, you didn’t care. You felt much better going to this party if Sehun was at your side. You felt better, more confident, with Sehun on your arm. This was a great way to show Baekhyun that you’d moved on after all. You didn’t need him anymore and, to be honest, you were through. Why were you even thinking of Baekhyun and all the bullshit you’d been through when you were walking next to a man that made you question nothing? When you were walking next to a man who openly admitted to liking you? He hadn’t told you directly and you knew that he probably had no idea if you heard what he said in the first place. Hell, he might even admit it to you if you just asked. Either way, you were in a much better place now. You were no longer hanging onto some string, with Baekhyun pulling you in all sorts of directions. You were free, free to let go of that fucking string and go after what you wanted.

Baekhyun knew he had no right to feel hurt but he did. For some reason, he felt hurt that you’d possibly moved on. He knew that it was stupid and that none of it really made much sense but it was how he felt. Baekhyun had moved on. Hell, it seemed like you had moved on, too.

Even with this beautiful girl standing in front of him, he felt jealous. Even though you weren’t his and he wasn’t yours, he still felt some type of way. He was so torn and confused by these feelings, so he started toward the kitchen for a drink. He needed something that would push his feelings to the back of his mind. Kira had walked off with a friend to fix her makeup in the bathroom, so he felt less guilty about leaving her on her own.

As he walked into the kitchen, he spotted Drew taking a shot with a bunch of other guys he’d never met before. Drew slammed down his plastic shot glass and looked up at his friend. “Baek, take a shot with us!”

He shrugged and figured why not? He grabbed the shot his friend had poured and downed it quickly. “Can I vent?”

Drew nodded, “Let’s go to the balcony.”

Baekhyun weaved in and out of the clusters of people scattered across the living room, his friend following behind him. He slid open the door, relieved that the balcony wasn’t crowded. There was a couple smoking a cigarette together on the other side. He sat down on one of the patio chairs and Drew sat across from him.

“What’s up?” Drew said.

Baekhyun sighed. “It’s Y/N...”

“What about her?” he asked. “Was it weird seeing her tonight?”

“Well, it was...but did you see the way she purposely didn’t stand near me? It’s like she doesn’t even wanna breathe my air. She barely acknowledged my presence. And that fucking sarcastic smile when Kira said hi to her? I bet she didn’t even listen to my voicemail either. And she’s already seeing someone new?”

Drew was perplexed by this situation between you and Baekhyun. This wasn’t the first time he went on a rant about you and how you weren’t answering any of his messages or when he pressed him for updates about you. He was always wondering what you were doing and why you weren’t answering and why things couldn’t be the way they used to be.

Drew said, “I mean, you fucked her over. Did you expect her to just...forgive you?”

Baekhyun pouted. “Well, no but—”

“Think about it: She liked you a lot. And, I mean, I thought you did too…”

“I did, but—”

“Did or do? I know we’ve both been drinking and you’re probably in your feelings but you have to admit, you’re acting kinda crazy right now.”

“How am I acting crazy?”

“You started dating Kira! Can you blame Y/N for moving on? You’re saying you liked her, in past tense, but it sounds like maybe you still do.” Drew cleared his throat. “Look, what’s your problem exactly? Are you upset because she won’t forgive you or are you upset because you’re jealous that she’s moving on?”

Baekhyun was annoyed. He had come to Drew to vent and here he was psychoanalyzing him. Was Drew his friend or his goddamn therapist?

Baekhyun let out a sigh, pushing those negative thoughts about his friend away. He knew Drew was right and that he was just trying to help him out. In a way, it was as if his friend knew him better that he knew himself. Drew was only giving him some things to think about.

What was he even doing? Why was he obsessing over what you were doing when you’d clearly made up your mind that the two of you were no longer even friends? He, apparently, needed to move on, too. If he wanted a relationship with Kira, he needed to think less about you and more about her. Otherwise, it might go up in flames and blow up in Baekhyun’s face.

“You’re right,” Baekhyun said, rolling his eyes. “I know you’re right.”

Drew said, “I’m not saying to break up with Kira and go to Y/N or the other way around but I think you need to take a step back to figure out what it is you want.” He threw his arm around Baekhyun. “Look, let’s just enjoy the party tonight and think about this complicated stuff later, okay?”

Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah. Deal.”

As soon Baekhyun closed the balcony door behind him and turned back toward the party, he saw you walk in, in all your glory. The worst part of it all was that you had your arms wrapped around some douchebag in a bomber jacket. Actually, he lied. The worst part of it all was the fact that not only did you have your arms wrapped around that douchebag’s arm, but that you were smiling harder than he’d seen you smile, like you were having the time of your life.

The way his heart dropped and the way his blood began to simmer in his veins, he knew what Drew said was right.

This was going to be a rough night.

***

Thank you for reading, as always and please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for STRING!

Tag List: @shesdreaminginoverdose @multistania @jeonchan26 @myonlyaurora @keloiu @xxluckydreamsxx @multifandomeras @blanknearvana @jddcfc-blog @jummyjammy @mintaemark @kokobyunee @fortheloveofinfinite @littleflowercrown13 @wayvexo @to-all-the-stories-i-love @ggaayyyong @hyuniebaby @giriboyshogu @xyukheix @jekylluv @forbyun @endzii23 @puppyeoliepop @aa-ronpa @jessverdin @princemicorazon @sjkings @marimsun @baekhypnotized @cynthbee @xuyiyangstan @justmitchie @minseoksnz

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staylavendertea · 3 years

Text

young avengers characters and relationships as songs

billy kaplan : season of the witch by donovan and mr. sandman cover by joe p, it’s fun, there’s that groove, it’s witches and it’s dreams; a total billy kaplan jamming out in his room in his boyfriends too big shirt 10 at night moment with that magical and just like ,, witchy billy vibe i can’t explain through words that i love dearly, it also just gives me a connection between him and wanda i really love, the family witches between soul mother and soul son and that bass in mr sandman for some reason screams billy

teddy altman : space girl by frances forever need i say more, that song screams smiling golden tall boy theodore in overalls and sweaters, prince charming of space deserves the song space girl, the song is soft like teddy is, all hugs and kisses, that is until “stupid boyfriend putting himself into stupid danger all the stupid time” and “why do i try he never listens” “i heard that” “sure now he listens” then it becomes all hugs, kisses, bickering with the boyfriend, and threats of mauling people, but that’s for childrens crusade and family matters arc to tell

tommy shepherd : rebels by call me karizma but also steady, as she goes by the raconteurs mostly just for that guitar and music, i heavily head canon billy as the pianist and tommy as the guitar and bass player all the way and steady, as she goes screams tommy’s kind of music, the song rebels because that boy is the biggest rebel around and i wouldn’t be surprised if he was an arsonist

eli bradley : i just wanna shine by fitz and the tantrums i honestly had a bit of a hard time finding a song that really perfectly fit eli, but i think this one really hits the spot - eli is totally the boy that’s just trying his best and live up to his and everyone else’s expectations, i think he’s actually a softie and repressed nerd that believes heavily in doing what is right and i think that this song encompasses that, i really miss eli bradley thank you for coming to my tedtalk

cassie lang : blackbird by the beatles (cover by dodie) cassie gives me total adorable and soft but such a cool person dodie vibes, but i think the song blackbird fits cassie on so many levels, especially the lyrics as growing up after losing her dad, getting and learning to control her powers, and growing as a super hero she knows her dad would be so proud of, i love every single one of the young avengers but mygod cassie

nate richards : run boy run by woodkid and something better by hidinin i feel for nate, that poor kid literally is running away and trying to kill his future because he knows it’s a bad road and honestly he’s so brave for that and it’s all thanks to nate that we got all the young avengers in the first place so credit will be payed where credit is due, nate is really just a clumsy teenager thats a total nutcase and a bit clueless without that common sense sometimes that will think a pack sour troll gummies and a bottle of gateorade is a well rounded training diet but he’s also a descendent of sue and reed richards and what’s there to expect from child geniuses

kate bishop : love club by lorde and ribs by lorde i kinda just stumbled upon these honestly forgotten songs in my playlist and was pleasantly surprised how perfectly kate bishop these songs are, the lyrics most likely mean something else but i see the love club as the young avengers and “go get punched for the love club” just sounds like a kate bishop thing to say, these songs give me vibes of kate bishop in a rolled sleeves black and purple flannel and black jean shorts with scuffs and bandaids on her elbows and knees, probably also a developing black eye and bloody nose but lookin badass per usual

david alleyne : karma by ajr i picked this one for david because the second i heard it david was immediately the person i thought of when listening to it, i haven’t read many comics with david in them, i’m searching tho, but i am reading the current x factor and david just goes through a lot poor dude just wants to learn and help with what he can and i love him every moment for it

america chavez : a good song never dies by saint motel and dead girl in the pool by girl in red i honestly don’t know much about america besides some basic background stuff and some her character and personality since i haven’t been able to get my hands on some ya v2 issues besides what i’ve seen online but what i have seen of her i already love her and know she is so badass and a bit chaotic but in the best way possible from the little i do know about america’s character i think these songs just fits both the vibes of how she presents and holds herself but also her personality, america is a good song that just never dies are vibes i will happily live with

loki : run the world!!! by dayglow i haven’t really read much of loki in the comics, the versions of them i know the best being the actual norse myth god and movie loki and i know how the movies can be with their comic book characters, but from what ive heard about kid and teenager loki is that they’re a little punk and this song seems to just fit that perfectly

jonas : growing pains by coin i honestly didn’t know that there was more to jonas besides ya v1 and childrens crusade but now i’m intrigued, but this song just speaks jonas to me who i was also calling judas for like ten minutes without realizing i had a totally wrong name, but from what i read and his whole thing with cass, i think growing pains very much fits a mr. jonas

now for the relationships/ships - this post is so long i am so sorry for all the reading but i’m having fun -

david and tommy : affection by between friends im not even sure completely why but the music just screams david and tommy’s vibes, especially how tommy is usually head canonized in relationships, *chiefs kiss* of a song

nate and cassie and jonas : in the middle by dodie this song is literally the three of them, like perfectly, the lyrics fit to a t and it’s literal perfection for them

billy and teddy : pleaser by wallows for how much i love them i surprisingly had a hard time finding a song for them, i know at one time i heard and had a song that was perfect but i can’t remember it all, but i think pleaser fits just as nice, it fits their personalities and the music itself is the vibe they give off to me : imma make an edit from this post previously cause i’ve been thinking about and i would like to add the song leaves by joe p cause it just fits too well, especially when looking at billyteddy fan art whilst listening to it, it’s too good : HI THIS ANOTHER EDIT IMSORRY but it literally took weeks to remember but now i remember what the original song for them i had picked - electric love by borns - it also gives me billy lightning powers vibes and i do adore some billy lightning powers, i think it would be so cool to see them mixed in with his reality warping ones

eli and nate : talk too much by coin honestly it’s them, it’s a vibe they both argue and to each other, talk way too much, i’m calling it they kissed like at least once just to see how that would go - probably arguing who was the better boyfriend when they were both single

eli and kate : falling for u by peachy! and mxmtoon this song is very eli and kate for me, especially the beginning of their relationship not relationship, was that ever really established what was happening there ?? but this song fits perfectly amongst the bickering and racking numbers of how many times they’ve saved each other’s asses

kate and america : given it all by hayley kiyoko and midnight love by girl in red i love this ship and i have no idea if there was ever a thing happening between them or if it was pure fandom but it’s amazing and i love it, hayley kiyoko and girl in red is an of course and i think these songs speak them

- now just the young avengers as a group -

leaves by joe p a song that is totally just a hang out and drive all around all night as teenagers without a care in the world song and can totally see the gang jamming out to it

hey barbara by IV of spades this song literally speaks “hey did you watch that one beach episode” sunny and everyone vibing and hanging out, i can totally imagine tommy trying to get david to dance this and the attempts made is hilarious

teenagers and na na na by my chemical romance now last but certainly not least mcr because of course mcr, these kids can definitely be punks when they wanna be, especially when they’re mutant/alien/super hero teenagers that will literally do what they see fit, all in good manners of course

whhoooopp this was a lot longer than what i was initially expecting to make but after a few hours of song surfing and trying to make tumblr typing fonts work with me we’re finally here, this was just something fun for me since i associate music with everyone, but if you’ve read this far and wanna mention a song you think fits, totally put it out there, share the music !!

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fancyfade · 3 years

Text

so ive been debating editing chapter 3 on my fanfic to make 1 scene line up more from canon. (chapter 3 is this one, where the characters deal with the aftermath of battle for the cowl, Tim finds out Damian’s Robin, and Dick and Damian move to the penthouse)

I’m debating making the Tim finding out Damian’s Robin scene a little more canon compliant along what happened in Red Robin (link) for a few reasons, the main of which is in the scenes that I’m writing next (like... chapter 47 lol), Tim and Dick do have to talk about what transpired when Dick made Damian Robin. Potential reasons for change

In my fic Tim kind of just left on his own without a push, but I’m not sure if Tim would have left on such bad terms if there wasn’t the complication of Damian antagonizing him and him feeling as if Dick was picking Damian over him (even though in the comic we saw Dick trying to de-escalate and get Tim’s back, it still felt that way to Tim)

I dislike the way some of this was handled in the comic and I can’t really comment on it in my fic if I just retcon it out

it seems fair-er I guess if Tim is allowed to have flaws just like Cass and Damian and Dick all have flaws in this fic. i know many tim stans think otherwise, but punching a ten-year-old victim of child abuse in the face out of anger is wrong.

the con side is obviously this involves Damian getting hit and that kid has been through so much already. I’m really trying to figure out how it works with character dynamics vs like. give the poor kid a break-ness.

anyway if I did decide to replace the current chapter 3, this is what it would be replaced with (only the first scene, the second would be the same). If you are a reader of the fic feel free to leave your comments. I would do an “oh and I edited chapter 3″ note before the relevant stuff was mentioned if I go through with this, I wouldn’t like expect everyone to know what happened. Some of the dialogue is not like exactly like in canon (cuz thats boring and also to match with what I wrote the first time) but the feeling/ beats should be similar

Gotham’s finally had a bit of lull in the violence, and Dick is just wondering how he’s going to do this.

He’s accepted that Damian’s his responsibility – seeing the kid shot in the chest made that perfectly clear, as much as he would’ve liked it to be otherwise. He felt like he was way too young to be watching out for a kid in any capacity other than cool older brother, especially a kid who’s as difficult to get along with as Damian. He was a great fighter, of course, and he knew it – Dick’s not sure he’s ever heard the kid be humble about anything. To make things worse, Dick feels like he’s constantly stuck in the middle between Damian and the kid he actually views as his younger brother – Tim, who Damian tried to kill. Evidence in point:

“Robin?!” Tim asks once he’s gotten back on his feet and Dick's explained his plan – away from Damian, who's still recovering from surgery.

“You made Damian Robin?!” Tim asks again.

Dick sighs. He’s in the cave, in a Batman costume he feels doesn’t fit right at all with the cowl off, and Tim’s still in his regular clothes. He has no idea how to explain this to Tim – no idea how to make him feel like he’s not being replaced. Dick never wanted to be the one doing the replacing – he remembers how much it hurt to find out that Jason was Robin from the papers, and that was after he officially stopped being Robin. Tim never quit – and Dick’s not about to make him – but he has to come home to the guy who tried to kill him getting his name.

“Tim, I know this looks bad, but Damian needs this.”

“Remember when we thought Bruce was going to retire after Crisis?” Tim asks. “Batman and Robin was supposed to be us. You and me. Not you and the psychopath that tried to kill me.”

“Tim, you’re not my sidekick, you’re my partner – ” Dick takes a step towards Tim with his hand out, prepared to offer sympathy, but Tim shakes him off angrily.

“Obviously not!”

“And Damian needs me way more than you do. If we don’t keep an eye on him, he’s going to kill again.”

Tim scowls intensely. “That should really not be an endorsement for being Robin, Dick! He’s a killer! He belongs in jail!” Tim swallows a little and then lowers his voice out of shouting range. “Dick, he didn’t try to kill me because he for some reason thought it was the only way to stop me from doing something bad, as far as I can tell he just wanted to replace me. We’re talking about someone with absolutely no sense of right or wrong.”

“Of course he doesn’t have a sense of right or wrong. He’s a ten-year-old child who was raised as an assassin from birth!”

“Lots of our villains have really sad or sympathetic reasons for doing crime, that doesn’t mean we team up with them.”

“Are you serious?” Dick asks. “This isn’t the same, Tim.”

“How not?”

“Well for one,” calls Damian's voice from the stairs, and Dick can't help but cringe and think not now – “I'm a lot better than them.”

Dick's cringe only intensifies when he turns around to see what Damian is wearing. His new Robin costume.

Tim's hands clench into fists the instant he sees Damian. Dick knows he has to de-escalate things quick before Tim and Damian have another fight.

“Damian,” Dick says, trying to keep himself carefully neutral-sounding. “Shouldn't you be resting?”

Damian lifts his head up slightly so his nose is in the air, and walks down the stairs almost normally. There's only a little hesitation in the twist of his torso, a little stiffness of his right arm.

Either he's zoned out of his mind on painkillers or depressingly good at masking his pain for a ten-year-old.

“Please,” Damian says. “I was trained in the League of Shadows. Do you really think an over-the-hill ex-Robin could put me down?”

Tim's fist clenches further, and so Dick says, letting a bit more urgency slip into his voice, “Damian, shut up. Now.”

Damian puts his left hand on his hips and looks intentionally at Tim. He adds, “I'm not Drake – ”

He's barely got the word out before Tim leaps forward and punches him in the face. Dick's out of his seat, grabbing Tim to hold him back, who is still distressingly struggling against him, like he wants to keep up the assault despite the fact that Damian fell to the floor.

“My name is Tim Wayne!” Tim shouts as Dick is still holding him back.

Damian gingerly sits up. Dick prepares to release Tim, prepares to stop Damian if he has to, if he decides to get revenge. But he doesn't. He just briefly braces his right side with his left hand before wiping the blood off his face.

“I let you get that shot in, Drake,” Damian says, again dropping intentional emphasis on Tim's original last name.

As he does, Tim struggles forward.

“Tim, back off!” Dick says, because Tim still isn't cooling down –

“I want you to feel good about yourself,” Damian continues.

Tim seems to relax his stance slightly, so Dick, possibly in an error of judgment, lets Tim go. But Tim doesn't try to attack Damian again, he just shakes Dick off and starts stomping away. “You want me to back off? Fine.”

He's going for the exit.

If he leaves –

Dick can't chase him. He's not sure that he can leave Damian alone –

“Tim, wait!” Dick says, taking a step forward. “Bruce is gone. But I still need you.”

“For what?” asks Damian and damn it is there anything this kid isn't going to try to ruin?

“Shut up, Damian,” Dick says again, even though as far as he knows he's just going to wind up pushing Damian away too –

And Tim leaves.

Dick turns to look at Damian. The kid's already back to his feet, like nothing happened, and Dick takes a step forward to inspect the injury – though he's really more worried about the gunshot wound than Tim's punch. Both Tim and Damian had wound up injured pretty badly during the chaos that gripped Gotham in the rumors of Batman’s death. As his new and not-improved version of Batman, Jason had tried to kill them both, which Dick is way less than pleased about. He’d been kind of hoping that they could talk Jason down, but this seems like a line he doesn’t know if Jason can ever un-cross. He shot a ten year old in the chest.

Damian grabs Dick's wrist as he reaches out.

“Are you all right?” Dick asks.

Damian scoffs. “You're worried about Drake? I've been hit harder sparring my mother.”

“I was thinking about the gunshot.” Alfred had said the primary damage was blood loss and a punctured lung (well, traumatic pneumothorax, but Dick knew what he meant) and given the kid a minimum of four weeks downtime to heal.

It's hard to tell due to the domino mask, but Damian adopts the position of a kid who's rolling their eyes, head slightly tilted to the side with a loll. “It's not enough to impersonate Batman, now you want to impersonate my mother?”

Dick doesn't know how to approach the mother thing, so he doesn't even try. He just explains the logic for being Batman – (and there is logic behind it. It's not like he wanted this). “Someone has to step up and convince Gotham things can get back to normal,” Dick says. “And serial killer Batman wasn't going to cut it.”

“Did you at least take care of him?” Damian asks.

Dick knows that Damian isn't actually worried about Jason's wellbeing, so he says, “Do you mean 'did I kill him'?”

“Tt. Obviously.”

“Obviously not.”

Damian presses his lips together in a thin line.

Dick might as well get this out of the way now. He's going to have to sometime. “Alfred wants you out of the field for four weeks.”

“That's preposterous!” Damian shouts, and as he shouts, he coughs. He rubs his chest quickly and then glowers at Dick when he sees him staring.

“Damian, you could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

Jeez, doesn’t this kid have any sense of his own mortality? Though, Dick supposes, growing up around Lazarus Pits and a centuries old grandfather might make that impossible.

“I’m not a fool, Grayson, I know I’m not capable of healing instantaneously. I’ll take a break for one week,” he offers, like it’s a huge concession on his part.

“Four weeks,” Dick says.

“What about you?” Damian asks. “Didn’t you get injured?”

“Not as badly.”

“Are you taking a break?”

“Someone needs to convince Gotham that Batman’s not dead,” Dick says. Also, he doesn’t want to take a break. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Losing Bruce. Failing Tim.

“Tt. Then I don’t need one either. I’m younger. I heal faster.”

Dick actually has no clue whether that’s true, because he’s not a doctor, but he knows that people usually say kids heal faster.

Dick swings his arms a little, trying to feel them out. They’re still stiff, and as they move, a jolt of pain shoots through him. Even when he’s not moving, his shoulder is still sore. He knows that he might get injured going into the field like this and that it’s not a smart decision – last time he went into the field while still healing, he wound up blowing his secret identity to Blockbuster.

He decides that at least if he’s going into the field, he won’t tell Barbara and Alfred about it. Okay, so that’s probably not the smartest of his plans. Most plans that you have to hide from people who care about you aren't smart.

“I’ll take a week long break with you,” Dick concedes. “And we can see how fast you’re healing.” The second part is a lie, of course. He's not going to supersede Alfred's orders on medical matters.

Dick sighs a little. He figures that while they’re both on bed-rest duty, though, he can try to figure out how to set things up so they can operate effectively once they get a clean bill of health.

“How do you feel about not living in the manor?” Dick asks.

“Kicking me out already?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t be living here either,” Dick says. It’s true. He’d rather not feel like he’s living in all of Bruce’s old places, wearing Bruce’s old costume, … replacing him, essentially. He needs a place he can clear his head.

“Where would you live then?” Damian asks skeptically.

Dick shrugs. “The penthouse, maybe. Bruce already made a bunker nearby, so we could operate out of there pretty easily.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “Why do you keep saying ‘we’?”

Because you are ten and not ready to live on your own. But Dick just says, “Well, you’re Robin now, right? That means you’re pretty much obligated to team up with Batman.”

“Batman isn’t here, Grayson. He never will be again, no matter how much you play dress-up.”

Charming kid. Like Dick didn’t already know that.

“You know I operate effectively alone, right?” Damian continues. “I don’t need to be hand-held and babysat like all of Father’s previous partners.”

Dick figures that it’d be a jerk move to remind Damian he just almost died and therefore really shouldn’t be on his own. Instead, he says, “Well, Alfred’s staying with me, so unless you want to get all your food and clean the house by yourself, you have to put up with me.”

“Tt . I don’t need a servant. I’ll just eat at restaurants.”

“On who’s money?”

“In the event of his death, my father’s assets should have transferred to me. His blood son.”

Oh boy. Dick rubs his face. “Does this have to be a thing, Damian? No one’s doubting your capacity to take care of yourself but I think it’d really be easier if we were operating out of the same building. “

A long silence on Damian’s part. “Fine,” he says eventually. “I’ll allow you to stay at my penthouse.”

My penthouse. Of course. But Dick takes it. “All right,” he says. “Let’s move in.”

#idk even #to my followers #my fanfic #dc comics #dc fanfic #tim drake #damian wayne #dick grayson

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lailannajacobs · 3 years

Text

If You’d Ever Had A Real Boyfriend, Maybe You’d Know What To Do With A Fake One | GIBP IV

Pairing: Fey!Loki x fem!reader

Chapter Summary: You experience your first council event and get to know Loki a little bit better.

Warnings: pure fluff

Word Count: 12.5k

A/N: I know this took quite a while to come out, but I ended up writing far more than I’d intended and I spent a lot of time editing to try and get the fake dating as perfect as I possibly could. I hope you don’t mind the length so much and I’d love to know what you think of the chapter!! <3

You had wanted to spend the whole hour in the bath, scrubbing the stupid Junabee from your hair, but Loki had given you an hour alone and you weren’t about to waste it soaking in a tub; no matter how luxurious or tempting it was. You’d chosen a dark silky blouse and fancy but comfortable pants, quickly noticing that Valkyrie had made a slitted compartment in the leg for your dagger. You hadn’t spoken about it with her and you didn’t know if that was her way of ominously warning you to stay safe or simply that she’d gotten a better read on you during your afternoon than you’d thought. Either way, you were glad to have it there.

Even though they clashed with the outfit, you’d kept your boots on underneath, refusing to part with them. You weren’t in the mood to get blisters from shoes you’d never worn before and needed to to know you could run and move if need be. Your steps were silent on the floor — another reason you’d kept on the boots — hopefully imperceptible even to Fey hearing. Leaning your ear against the door, you waited, listening for movement in the hallway. Nothing. Your hand was tentative on the handle. You gently pulled open the door and stepped out, eyes scanning the hallway. You bit back a groan.

Loki was leaning against the opposite wall, freshly changed into a dark suit, the cut and style similar to the likes of human fashion and his dark hair combed back. You were momentarily surprised he owned something like that, but with the mountain of clothing you received from Valkerie only hours after meeting her, you should have guessed she would have made something for him as well. It was a clever move on his part, and you wondered if it was him or his seamstress who had decided on the suit. Regardless of who’s idea it was, the clothes fit him so perfectly, even you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome. The thought made you scowl. He raised a brow.

“I thought you were going to be back in an hour,” you blurted then quickly realized how suspicious you sounded.

He shrugged, “I lied.”

The silence stretched on after his words and you turned them over in your mind. He knew you would try and leave. It was the only reason he would have lied about something so unimportant. And you stupidly believed him. You ran your tongue over your teeth, trying to hide your frustration — at him, yes, but also at yourself. You should have known that after sneaking off this morning he’d be watching you even more closely. If you’d have stayed put, maybe you could have gained his trust enough to search the palace on your own. Now, you’d only made everything harder for yourself. There was no way he trusted you before, but he sure in the Seven Hells didn’t trust you now. You should have known better than this. You had to be better than this. You felt tears burn behind your eyes and you struggled to keep ahold of yourself.

He cocked his head, looking at you more closely now, as if he could see beneath your skin if he tried hard enough. You avoided his gaze, watching the trees swaying outside through a nearby window until you were sure your voice wouldn’t crack when you spoke.

You tried to turn the tables on him Instead of trying to defend your own actions, and muttered, “that wasn’t very nice of you.”

He seemed to find that funny, his intense stare breaking as he pushed off the wall and approached with slow, lazy steps, “and what were you about to do, sweetheart?”

You took in a deep breath; pasted on a coy smile. You had to calm down and get your act together if you wanted to get through this. And you were going to get through this. For yourself. For Nat. You had no other choice.

You closed the door behind you.

“Find you, of course,” you replied sweetly.

His head dipped in a slow nod, lips pursed as if he was trying to fight a smile. You didn’t for a second think that he believed me.

“Well, sweetheart, you found me,” he crooned.

You couldn’t fake any kind of enthusiasm, the words dry when you said, “lucky me.”

“Lucky me,” he countered, lips curling into a wicked grin. His eyes were bright and taunting as if he was winning a game you weren’t aware you were playing, “and now that you’ve found me, what are you going to do about it?”

His voice had dropped so that his question sounded like a dare, words laced with danger and promises of something more. Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized how close you’d gotten now that he was leaning against your doorframe. You looked up haughtily, holding his gaze as you searched for something to say in return, but you had nothing. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and raised a brow, that insufferable smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Annoyed and all too aware of how close he was standing, you snorted and pushed past him. It wasn’t the most elegant or articulate, but it was the best you could come up with.

“Anything I should know about this party thingy?” you asked, hoping you could get back onto solid footing with some distance and a neutral question.

He was silent as he strolled beside you and you had to look up at him to make sure he’d heard. The only reason you didn’t repeat the question was the pinched look on his face and the way he began by saying, “I won’t lie to you,”

You stopped short, your hands on your hips. He paused and turned. When you didn’t back down, he nodded as if he’d just remembered lying to you less than an hour ago.

“Not about this,” he explained, though you weren’t comforted in the slightest by his answer. He was obviously comfortable lying to you and seemed to have it in mind that he would need to. Obviously, as king, he wasn’t going to tell you most things, but you wondered what that meant for your fate and Nat’s.

You kept walking, not wanting to get distracted and make a big deal about something you couldn’t change. For now. You motioned for him to go on.

“The council isn’t going to like you,” he replied bluntly, “they’re all part of the generation that burned down the temples of the old gods and almost half supported the discoveries that led to the war on purity.”

You closed your eyes for a few steps and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest. Several decades before Hayle inherited the throne, Dark Elf scholars from Alfhiem discovered that magic flowed through the Nine Realms like currents in a massive loop of energy. They had found that the each specific mutation that differentiated the races attracted certain currents of energy and allowed those mutation to interact with and manipulate the magic of the currents. Humans couldn’t interact with any.

Then, when Odin later took the throne, a human scholar named Brock Rumlow was found guilty of capturing and testing on as many of the other races as he could get his hands on to try and imitate the mutations to give himself more power. Odin had taken the opportunity to turn as many of the other realms as he could against humans, burning the temples the humans had built when they had believed the magic had come from the gods. They had set out to eradicate the ‘lesser race’ — humans who had no power and would inevitably try to steal everyone else’s. Anyone who had sided with Odin despised humans and were a threat to them, even hundreds of years after they had lost the war on purity.

You were in more danger here than you’d realized.

“Great,” you muttered. Then a terrifying thought occurred to you that he might actually agree with them, “if they’re part of your council, why haven’t you gotten rid of them?”

He looked down at me in surprise, “kill them?”

“Kick them off the council,” you snapped, “you were king for at least a little while. You could have changed that.”

You stopped yourself from saying that he should have changed it. The actions of one human should not have been enough to condemn the entire race for future generations and every other race that had sided with them. But you should have known when Asgard had abandoned everyone good in the war that they didn’t care for anyone other than themselves.

Loki remained silent as a beautiful Fey woman crossed you in the hallway and nodded politely as she walked past. Her eyes lingered on you and the space between you and Loki so you stepped a little closer to him as you walked, your shoulders practically touching. When you were certain she couldn’t see you anymore, you stepped away from him, afraid he could feel your anger radiating off you in waves.

“Their positions are for life,” he said with a shrug, “and unfortunately, that’s a long time.”

“Unfortunate,” you scoffed, then muttered, “maybe you should have considered the first option gave you.”

His steps faltered slightly, “I beg your pardon?”

You knew he’d heard with his Fey hearing.

“Nothing,” you chirped.

He looked at you warily before continuing, scanning your body from head to toe as if he was looking for the dagger you’d pulled on him the day before.

“Thankfully, the head of the court is impartial,” he finally said when he seemed satisfied you weren’t going to try anything, “and the ultimate decision is his. My advice to you is to ignore the rest of them and focus on making this convincing.”

You nodded. His plan made sense, but there was so much that wasn’t on your side simply because you were human. If this was a fight, you were starting it blindfolded and with a hand tied behind your back. You clenched your teeth, frustrated. He’d conveniently forgotten to mention how desolate our situation was before you’d agreed to it. Though you hadn’t really agreed to it. It would be a long time before you forgot the way he’d casually threatened your life and the pain he’d caused last night.

“If you knew all this, then why in the Seven Hells did you drag me into this?” you snarled, unable to keep the emotion from your voice, “wouldn’t it have been easier to use someone who was Fey? I’m sure Valkyrie would have been available.”

You weren’t sure why you’d called out the seamstress, but now that you had, you wouldn’t mind him explaining some of the million secrets you knew they were both keeping from you.

He didn’t seemed fazed by your outburst, his face almost more impassive than it was before, “easier maybe, but it would have been too obvious. The fact that you’re so unexpected makes it the most believable.”

Your anger was dropped to a simmer for a moment when you wondered what he meant by ‘too obvious’. What kind of past was between them? Maybe something was still there and this whole situation was coming between them. Maybe your deal was ruining a perfectly decent relationship. You decided you didn’t care. You weren’t here to become invested in their lives. You had other — more important — things to worry about.

“This hallway leads to the council’s banquet hall,” he continued once he realized that you weren’t going to say anything else on the subject, “if ever I’m not here to escort you, this is the easiest way to get from our rooms to the hall.”

“There are other ways?” you asked, thinking that the better you knew the layout of the palace, the better your chances were of finding the Hand.

He glanced at you side-long, wary of your question. With reason, but you weren’t about to confirm that.

“I mean, what if I’m not coming from my room,” you supplied, hurrying along.

“You can always ask for help,” he said. His face took on a serious quality that you hadn’t seen on him before, “the walls have ears here. Unless you’re in your room, know that I’ll be able to hear you if you’d like help.”

You didn’t know what to think about that. You’d been talking pretty freely about your deal, even though it had been in hushed tones most of the time. But that meant that whatever you said could be overheard by anyone. You were going to have to be even more careful than you’d first thought.

He nodded as if he could read your mind and honestly, with the minute demonstrations of magic you’d seen so far, you weren’t sure he couldn’t. You didn’t know anything about Fey magic and because of it, you were even more at a disadvantage. If you were going to have to spend a few moons here then you were going to have to learn more about it. Maybe even put your pride aside and ask him about it.

“Do you think you can make it convincing in there, sweetheart?” he asked, pausing a few steps away from a set of double doors. You’d been so lost in thought that you hadn’t realized you were already at the banquet hall.

“YN,” you grumbled, “and I think I can manage.”

“Good. Then I think we should hold hands,” he said.

You rolled your eyes, though you were glad he’d had the decency to accept your terms and ask you first.

“How romantic. And original,” you laughed, though there was no humour in the sound, “did you come up with that all on your own, prince?”

“You did want a heads up,” he ran a hand through his hair, “and funny thing is sweetheart, love isn’t original. Or so I’ve heard.”

“Never been in love?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“No,” he kept his eyes on the door ahead, not giving anything away, his voice steady when he asked, “have you?”

A crazy kind of laughter bubbled in your chest at the irony and impossibility of your situation. Afraid it would turn into full blown panic, you managed to push it far enough down to say, “no. Looks like we’re perfect for this.”

He rocked back on his heels, the corner of his mouth barely twitching upward, “I knew there was a reason I chose you.”

“I broke into your palace, I don’t think that counts,” you scoffed.

He offered his hand, “I let you.”

“Keep telling yourself that, prince,” you said, your frustration back as if it had never left. You tried to ignore that familiar itch blooming at your tailbone, “you people are so overconfident and arrogant that anyone with half a brain could break into this place.”

“And yet, here you are,” he pointed out, that infuriating smirk growing.

You crossed your arms, tucking your hands tightly against your body to hide your growing temper, “not because of your charm.”

He leaned in close, lips almost touching your ear when he whispered, “you’re no peach either, my queen.”

“At least I’m not a spoiled brat who coerces helpless humans into miserable bargains,” you whispered back, head snapping to face him and your composure slipping away faster than usual. We were so close now your noses were practically touching and you made sure to take a step away from him.

He shook his head and you felt a shimmer of magic surround you like a bubble. You looked around as if you could physically see it, but obviously nothing was there. When you looked back at him, Loki’s eyes were ablaze.

“Like you’re helpless, YN. You obviously don’t like me and that’s fine, but don’t think for a second that I’m clueless. You can fool them, sweetheart, but not me.”

You let out another humourless laugh, easing the pressure in your chest slightly, “and there’s that overconfidence and arrogance I was just talking about.”

“Are there any other insights about me you would like to share?” he asked, that bored expression quickly replacing any sort of emotion you might have seen on his face.

“Not right now,” you snapped.

He huffed a sigh, “then we should go in.”

You took his hand. It was a rough, warrior’s, easily engulfing yours.

He smirked.

“Shut up,” you growled, tempted to rip your hand away, “this is a necessity.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he pointed out, though there was no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he’d done to get under your skin so easily. Just the thought infuriated you more.

“This is never going to work,” you muttered.

He paused, voice taunting when he said, “not with that attitude it won’t.”

It took all of your restraint not to punch him in the arm with your free hand. He was so cavalier about all of this that you had trouble believing he took any of it seriously. How were you supposed to get the book when this was over when his vanity seemed to take precedence over everything else? He raised your hands and placed a slow kiss on yours, his intense gaze never leaving you. You glared at him and could feel his lips twist into a smile on your skin. Before you could snap at him for being an arrogant prick, he pushed open the doors and was on the move again, tugging you along with him. You did your best to keep up with his long strides through the smaller hallway that led to fancy looking doors at the end. You didn’t know if you were late or it if it was you dreading the party, but it felt like he’d picked up the pace.

You kept repeating to yourself that the walls had ears and that you had a job to do. You had Nat’s face etched into your mind — the sheer panic, wide eyes and gaunt face of the day the two of you had gotten captured. You had to get her out. You had to. Which meant that you couldn’t go around hating the man you were supposed to love. At least, not blatantly you couldn’t.

“I couldn’t be happier than to be here with you in this moment, Loki,” you said as you approached the doors that looked even more impressive up close, “there’s no one else I’d ever want at my side.”

He stopped with his hand on the door and looked over at you with a curious, but slightly amused expression on his face. He leaned over so that his shoulder barely brushed up against yours and said, “commendable attempt, sweetheart, but you might want to remind your face of your intentions if you want anyone to believe it.”

Then he pulled you into the room with him before you could say anything else. You did your best to wipe the scowl from your face. It wasn’t easy to do when this was the last place you wanted to be, but every pair of eyes were on you so you had no choice. And there were a lot of them.

The banquet hall was filled with Fey in elegant evening wear, male and female alike, all dissecting you as if you’d intruded on their private event. The room was smaller than you thought it would be, though it still had high arched ceilings, wide stained glass windows and a long table set up in the back with an impressive spread of food. A quick scan of the crowd gave you the impression that there were almost fifty Fey here but not one friendly face among them. Your legs suddenly felt like jelly and you were surprised you were somehow still standing.

Loki looked down at you and raised a brow. It was a silent challenge as if he thought you were intimidated by his court — that you couldn’t keep up. The arrogant look reignited the furry that had been doused by the judging stares and brought you back to your senses fast enough that you didn’t stumble after Loki when he walked you toward the centre of the party. Because of course you were going to the centre of it. Where else would you go?

“Nice to see everyone,” he began, shooting them all courtly smiles, though he lingered slightly longer on the five men who stood a few steps apart from the others. Their tunics looked similar to most of the other men, but you could tell their designs were more carefully tailored for their bodies and the fabrics better suited for the cut of the shirt and pants they wore. These men exuded power and confidence, and you could only assume that they were the council members that you were supposed to impress.

But the council of stuffy old men that you’d been expecting was nowhere to be seen. Only two of them appeared to be over the age of fifty, all the other in their early thirties at most — though you didn’t doubt that most of them were at least a few generations of humans old. All were Fey, and objectively speaking, all of them were quite handsome. Their looks were sharp and angular, traditional of the Fey and alluring in the way that they were surrounded by an air of magic. But the moment you looked into their eyes you knew you didn’t want to be in the room with them any longer than you had to. These men might not have been cruel at the beginning of their lives, but any kindness that might have once lived within them was long gone. And judging by the way their lips puckered in disgust, Loki had undersold their hatred for humans. You didn’t know if Asgard had ever had a human queen before the war, but you’d been warned they weren’t keen on it now. You just hadn’t been ready for them to look at you with more disgust on their faces than most of the people in Odin’s realm did — that was, those who bothered to look at you at all.

“We didn’t realize you were back from your travels, prince Loki,” the Fey man in the middle sneered.

“I arrived yesterday, Tywin” Loki replied curtly, his face impassive as he ignored the jab, “my court was aware.”

You tried not to stare back and forth between the councilmen and Loki. You had assumed that the council and his court were interchangeable, but obviously if they had been, these men would have been aware of his return — his return from where though? And if he had arrived yesterday, then you’d gotten to Asgard not long after he had. Maybe if you’d gotten here sooner you wouldn’t be stuck in this mess…Regardless, you couldn’t help but wonder if your arrivals were a coincidence or if there was something more going on to this whole situation than just a fight for his crown? There had to be a million things he wasn’t telling you, but would any of those things affect your end of the bargain? There were too may questions you didn’t know the answers to and you had to keep your face neutral before your rising worry ruined your scheme and your chances of getting the Hand before it even started.

“And who is this human you’ve brought with you?” Tywin asked, never once giving you any of his attention. He spoke the word as if you were a shameful object Loki had brought with him to use to taunt the council rather than a living, breathing, conscious being.

Loki lolled his head to the side, shooting you a lazy look you took as a signal to answer the Fey’s questions.

You lifted your chin, staring them all down one by one, and spoke slowly, pronouncing each syllable clearly just to make sure they got it, “YN YLN.”

The man’s lip curled, but he didn’t get a chance to speak.

“She will be my queen,” Loki declared.

There was no hesitation or doubt in his voice. It didn’t matter that he needed their approval to take the throne or that they had clearly pointed out that the title no longer belonged to him, he was above these people. They answered to him. Even masked by the bored look on his face, the authority in his voice was so strong, you found yourself believing it. And judging by the frustration on their faces, they did too — even if it was begrudgingly.

“We’ll discuss the technical aspects later,” he decided, his tone suddenly flippant as if he hadn’t just commanded the whole room into silence, “tonight is not meant for business.

He cut through the middle of the crowd and led you to the banquet table at the back of the room, dismissing the rest of the council. The silence lingered and followed you to the table, but slowly, the chatter began again, taking on a life of its own. You let out a since once the music had started again and their gazes were no longer boring into your back. Loki let go of your hand and offered you drink.

You must have looked at the pale red liquid suspiciously because he said, “it’s safe for humans.”

You hated that he seemed to be able to read your expressions so easily.

You grabbed the flute form his hands, the liquid sloshing in the glass before you downed it in a few quick gulps. The taste was sharp and not overly sweet, and went down smoothly. Which meant you had to be careful. You were human. Although your abilities would inherently handle the liquor better than most humans, that was what you were at the moment. Human. One too many drinks and you might do something incredibly stupid.

“Don’t look too pleased to be here,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. You thought it looked like he wanted to tear his hair out, but the look flashed by so quickly you were pretty sure you’d imagined it. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. The arrogance on his made you sure that you had.

He handed you another drink, “try not to spill this one.”

“I hate this place,” you whispered.

“Mingle,” he whispered back, “then you can leave.”

You blew him a kiss and stomped off. It was a pitiful attempt at love and you knew it. You needed to do a better job at pretending to be his queen, knowing that if you didn’t, you would never forgive yourself. But of course, the things you knew and the things you did rarely matched up. It was the reason you were a human stuck in this stupid mess in the first place.

Loki stared at you from across the room but didn’t approach. You tried to keep from rubbing your temples. You’d been in Asgard less than a day and you were already exhausted. You chalked it up to stress, not wanting to admit to yourself what the real was and rolled your shoulders back. You smiled at a passing Fey woman. She smiled back. There. That wasn’t so bad. You had a job to do. Loki wanted convincing? You were going to make it so damned convincing he was going to let you spend the whole day sleeping in tomorrow. You tried not to grind your teeth at the thought that you still needed someone to ‘let you’ do whatever you wanted. You down your drink, set it on the table and grabbed two more from a passing waiter. Once you got this done, you wouldn’t need anyone to let you do anything. You were going to be free again. Nat was going to be free. You could this. You spotted Loki across the room and off you went. You could do this.

Only you didn’t get far. A member of the council stopped you with a hand clamped around your arm. You flinched at the vice-grip. If the Fey man noticed your discomfort, it didn’t bother him enough to let go.

“You’re quite pretty for a human,” he leered, drawing you closer.

He was the youngest of the council members by far, looking about Loki’s age. His sand coloured hair was cut short and styled in a way that showcased his pointed ears and accentuated his ocean blue eyes. He was tall and square, holding himself like a warrior. You didn’t doubt he was one. Nothing about him was kind. Everything was rough looking. The humans had a myth that the other races were all carved from stone by the gods and brought to life through their immortal breath, but this Fey looked like they’d forgotten to polish him off, the lines around his eyes harsh and unfeeling.

It took all of your restraint not to shove him off, only the thought of Nat fending off jerks like this in Flaik keeping your anger in check. You were trained for this. That training might have been buried deep beneath hundreds of years of memories but it was there and it was time you dug it back up and used it.

You patted his arm, your cheeks forced into a smile, “interesting that a man such as yourself would say that.”

HIs lip curled in disgust as if he was insulted you hadn’t swooned over his pathetic excuse of an insult, “why’s that?”

“Because I thought the Fey were supposed to have perfect eyesight. Quite pretty doesn’t cut it for your future queen” you ripped your arm out of his grasp and strode off to where you’d last seen Loki, but he wasn’t there.

Great. Of course he’d left you to fend off these vultures yourself. One day you were going to punch him and you weren’t going to be sorry about it.

“Nicely done,” Loki whispered, standing so close you were practically touching.

You almost jumped out of your skin. You had no clue where he’d come from.

“Don’t patronize me,” you snapped, shoving one of the two glasses at him, “I don’t need it.”

He peered down at you, but didn’t try and defend himself, “understandable, but you may want my advice. If you can avoid Helio, do. He might be the youngest on the council but that doesn’t mean he’s any better than the rest of them.”

You snorted, “nice court you’ve got here, prince.”

“It’s a lifetime position, remember?” he said, nodding politely to the guests as you walked along the fringes of the party.

You knew he’d told you that before, but this time you deflated, feeling like you’d agreed to a situation that kept getting far more hopeless that you’d realized. He stopped and gave you a little shrug like he knew exactly how you were feeling. For once, there was nothing condescending in his expression and he genuinely seemed to understand. Maybe he did. He needed this to work too. But then again, maybe he didn’t. He was only loosing a title and not the person he loved most in this world.

He extended his hand. You tried to control the jittery feeling that was spreading through your limbs and through your body, making your breaths more and more shallow. Instead, you tried to focus on the fact that what you were doing wasn’t impossible. Improbable, yes, but not impossible. It would only become impossible if you didn’t take his hand and work with him. You didn’t have to like him. Seven hells, you didn’t even have to trust him. All you had to do was stop letting every little thing discourage you and do this with both feet in. You’d find a way to get the hand. You and Nat had gotten through worse. This time would’t be different. It couldn’t be.

You took his arm instead and stood a little closer for effect. The gesture put a little smile on his face. It was the perfect look to convince the council he was besotted and you knew you should do the same. Remembering the lessons from your childhood, you smoothed out the tension you knew must be on your face and told yourself that you hadn’t messed anything up yet. You were human in a Fey’s realm. It was only natural to be a little tense. You could play the part. You could lie just as well as he could.

“What’s the goal tonight?” you asked, voice low so that you wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention from the fey stealing glances at you.

His face was pleasant when he said, “I just need you to be seen.”

“With you?” you tried to clarify, a little put off by the way his tone didn’t match the look on his face.

“No. Just seen,” he brushed back your hair, leaning in so close that you shivered when his lips brushed against your ear, “I don’t trust any of them,” he whispered, “and neither should you.”

You wanted him to say more, but you understood enough to know that making sure you were seen by all the council was a failsafe to make sure nothing happened to you. If they all knew who you were and what you looked like, none of them could claim ignorance if you were kicked out of the palace — or worse. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. Yesterday he had made your deal seem like a piece of cake. Now you were sure he’d lied. Only the worry that your life might be on the line kept you from lashing out in anger.

“If I die, you don’t get to be king,” you reminded him through clenched teeth.

Loki backed off slowly, his movements measured and controlled, “if you died, I couldn’t imagine ever being sane enough to properly rule a kingdom.”

His words were a subtle reminder that despite your distance and the noise in the room, everyone here had Fey hearing and could listen in if they really wanted to — and they probably did. You mentally slapped yourself. You were going to have to start thinking before you spoke.

“Your words are too sweet,” you said, shooting him a pointed look, “but you’re far too strong to lose your sanity over a human, especially that our love will live on for far long than I will.”

He seemed to realize his mistake and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You narrowed your eyes at him and he shrugged with a little smirk.

“It is your everlasting love that will make me the best king I could possibly be,” he looked like he was enjoying himself far too much and you waited warily for his next words, “after all, sweetheart, I know you’d scale any building for me.”

You placed your hand on your heart for effect. It was better than punching his arm.

“And yet your love is so irresistible, it’s almost as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” you shot back.

He grinned.

“Aren’t you two sweet,” a male voice sneered.

You almost groaned. This had to be another councilman. Loki smirked and mouthed tell it to your face before he turned so that you were facing a man who resembled a boulder both in shape and wit. You were glad it wasn’t Helio again, but this one didn’t seem much better. Still, you managed somewhat a decent smile.

He didn’t wait for either of you to speak before continuing.

“I’d heard a rumour a few moons ago that we were going to have two kings instead of a king and a queen rule Asgard this time. But I don’t know where such a rumour could have come from, especially that you two have known each other for…” he was waiting for an answer, looking between you with a smug grin. You doubted he could have made it more obvious that he was hoping to catch you in a lie because these people didn’t believe you were in love. Whether that was because you were human or because you weren’t the right sex, you were no longer sure. You snuggled even closer to Loki and looked up at him with an expression on your face that you hoped showed nothing other than love.

Loki licked his lips, teeth scraping against his lower lip as he tried to hold back laughter. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to his mouth for too long before you looked back up into his bright eyes. Judging by the strange expression on his face, you weren’t doing a very good job at conveying love, which only made it harder not to scowl.

“Every day I learn something new about her,” Loki crooned, “it feels like we keep meeting over and over…like we just met yesterday.”

There was a victorious little glint in his eyes that you hoped the councilman interpreted as love. All you saw was a challenge to keep up.

You widened your grin, partly afraid it might look a little crazy but going with it anyways, “and yet, at the same time it feels like we’ve known each other for an eternity. I can’t remember what it was like not knowing him.”

You both turned back to face the Fey man and he narrowed his eyes, trying to see beneath the act. You tried to snuggle in a little closer, but with Loki’s hands in his pockets, there wasn’t much more you could do to get closer. He seemed to realize that in the way he stiffened slightly, but neither of you moved, afraid too much fidgeting would make the councilman see something he wouldn’t have otherwise found.

You were afraid the Fey could hear your heart pounding and you waited for him to say something. Finally, it was Loki who spoke instead.

“YN, I would like you to meet councilman Lucius Bonnefort. Lucius, meet your future queen.”

Lucius grit his teeth. He hadn’t been given a command, but the order from his king was clear. He was to treat you with the respect of any other Fey here. Loki raised a brow, waiting. It looked like Lucius might turn his teeth to dust he was gritting them so hard.

“Pleasure,” was all he muttered before sulking off.

You looked up at Loki and found a frigid expression on his face. His council may have been challenging him but at least they still respected him. The harsh lines on Loki’s face didn’t soften. Maybe it wasn’t respect. Maybe it was fear. You’d gotten a glimpse of his power last night that you didn’t want to relive. Maybe they knew better than to cross their king.

You strolled and mingled with some of the other party guests, but none of the other council members came to see you. It was clear they wanted nothing to do with the two of you, and although Lucius seemed to have bought your answer, you weren’t convinced any of them bought your act. It wasn’t like they wanted to, so why would they? The two of you standing close together wasn’t going to change any of that.

You stopped yourself from rubbing your eyes, trying not to let show how discouraged you were becoming. You’d never been in love. You’d never even had a serious relationship or anything that lasted longer than a couple nights. If this was going to work, you had to think. You couldn’t rely on your own experiences to get you through this. You needed something big. Something that would convince them, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were at least a real couple.

You glanced around the room, looking at all the people who refused to make eye contact with you. As much as you hated it, you needed them to look at you. And you needed to make sure that you did something big when they did. An idea began to take shape in your mind. You didn’t like it, but you were pretty sure it would work.

“Mind if I break one of our rules?” you whispered as softly as you could, catching Loki’s attention.

He leaned back, an amused look on his face. The dip of his head was barely visible but enough to give you the go ahead. You took the drink from his hand and grabbed a knife off the table behind him. Loki observed every movement curiously, no longer seeming quite so bored with the event. You gently tapped the knife against the glass, the hollow ringing echoing throughout the room. It wasn’t hard to get everyone’s attention when more than half of them had been stealing glances at you all evening. You placed the knife gently on the table and you free hand fluttered up instinctively to the pendent resting under your shirt. The weight of it was a strangely comforting reminder that what you were about to do was for the right reasons.

“Hello everyone,” you cleared your throat, hating the way your voice trembled, “I know a toast is a bit of a human tradition, but I was hoping, since I intend to be your queen in a few short moons, that I could say hello with a little tradition of my own. I just wanted to say what a pleasure it has been meeting all of you and I hope to get to know you better in the future. I love Loki more than any of you can imagine, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life here!”

The speech was premature and overconfident at best, but it wasn’t only a statement to prove that you be queen, it was also a message to Loki. You might have gotten caught off guard when you’d broken into the palace, but you were going to walk away with the Hand. You could play these games better than anyone here. You had no choice to, and you had the skills to prove it.

The tentative clapping wasn’t even done when you turned around, placed your drink on the table, grabbed Loki by the face and pulled him in for a kiss. He stiffened under your touch, lips frozen in place. You panicked. What did you just do? You were about to pull away and try to come up with a credible excuse for what had just happened when finally, his hands slipped around your waist and he pulled you closer, kissing you back. You melted into his touch. His lips were soft and gentle, and he let you lead the kiss until you pulled away slowly. You stared into his eyes, not quite sure that you’d actually done that. Loki didn’t say anything, his body oddly stiff. You couldn’t read his expression so you stepped back, his hands lingering a little longer before he let go. Unnerved by this strange version of Loki, you bopped him on the nose with the tip of your finger, surprising yourself with the gesture. His eyes narrowed but you only grinned, taking your little victories where you could get them.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening!” you announced, reaching around him for you glass and raising it.

You were met with a few wide eyes and bewildered looks, but thankfully, everyone raised their glasses and took a sip. You nodded and smiled, meeting a few eyes before turning back to face Loki. His courtly smile masked whatever he was feeling, and you had no idea whether he was furious or not. He extended an arm. You took it but you didn’t know what to think.

This time, as you walked through the party, you got a few smiles and a few nice to meet yous. You shot a winning smile to a fey man as you passed. Not sure what to do with it, he immediately looked away, flustered. The reaction eased some of the pressure on your chest, but you knew the party was far from over. And judging by the way Loki was deathly silent, you were also going to have to contend with him later. He pulled you into a dark alcove at the far end of the banquet hall, the sounds of the party falling away. Apparently he thought sooner was better than later.

“So that’s how we’re doing this?” he demanded.

You had to crane your neck to look up at him you were so close, your chests practically touching. His eyes were emeralds on fire, and with the ghost of that fake smile still on his lips, the effect was terrifying. Despite the number of the drinks you’d downed, you were aware enough to be wary of it.

“I warned you first,” you blurted out. Hating how defensive you sounded, you took a deep, steadying breath but the way it closed the distance between you did nothing to calm your nerves. If anything, it was almost as if your magics were creating an electric current between your bodies. You didn’t know if he could feel it so you ignored it, “I made the right call. Look at them.”

He learned over you to see around the corner, looking at the crowd who was still talking about your little toast. He smelled like mint and summer nights and you tried not to breathe in the pleasant scent.

He settled back into the alcove and raised a brow, “all for the greater good, right sweetheart?”

The words were spoken like a threat rather than an observation, dangerous and cunning. You swallowed, wondering what you’d just gotten yourself into. Actually, you knew what you’d gotten yourself into and you were doing a damned good job of it. If he thought he could intimidate you out of doing your job and securing the Hand then he was very well mistaken.

You jut your chin up, your faces inches away now, “exactly. Maybe you should keep up Prince Loki.”

He chuckled, his breath tickling your cheek. You mimicked his arrogant brow lift, waning for an answer. He said nothing, leaning in even closer. Your breath hitched and you wondered if he was going to kiss you just to spite you.

“If you’re going to make this a competition,” he whispered with a wolfish glint in his eyes, “then I’m willing to play, sweetheart.”

He pulled you out of the alcove before you had a chance to reply. You didn’t know if you’d just made things harder for yourself, but you’d definitely made them more interesting. Though you weren’t sure more interesting was what you needed.

The crowd parted for you as Loki cut across the room and you cursed your short legs for having so much trouble keeping up. He led you toward the only Fey here who actually looked like an old man. His sharp cheekbones and tight skin had gone soft and wrinkly, and the long hair cascading down past his shoulders was as white as his long beard, both of which resembled the frozen landscape of Niflheim. The fey looked thoughtfully between the two of you as you came to a stop in front of him, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

“You two are certainly something,” the fey said.

“That’s love,” you gushed, taking the lead on the situation.

Loki placed a quick kiss to your temple before making the introductions. The fey was Eamon Loveless, the head councilman and the one who would have the final say on your relationship. For some reason, probably to get back at you, Loki had brought you to the most important person in the room. You straightened. You could do this.

“Prince Loki,” Eamon was looking at you when he spoke, “I must say, when you told us you’d found your future queen, I hadn’t been expecting Miss YLN. You hadn’t quite painted a clear picture.”

You weren’t sure what Eamon was accusing him of, but Loki didn’t look worried. With his hands still in his pockets as if he couldn’t be bothered to take them out, he gave a little shrug.

“I didn’t want to influence your opinion before meeting her,” Loki explained, “but I imagine you could only have been pleasantly surprised.”

Eamon smiled, “I’m glad you’ve found someone else who makes you happy.”

Loki’s arms tightened at his side, squishing your arm in between his. Any more and it would hurt. You tried not to look up at him in surprise. There had been someone else? Who? When? Immediately, Valkyrie flashed through your mind.

“YN is magnificent,” he grit out, obviously affected by the comment.

Suddenly, the two of you were too stiff. Too awkward. You tried for a fond smile. Eamon’s expression never changed so you weren’t sure if you’d achieved it or not. You felt the panic begin to rise. Where was the Loki who had lied so easily to Valkyrie? Where was the king who’d commanded the room? Where was the prick who’s taunted you seconds ago? The silence was dragging on and you had to fight the urge to fill it with useless babbling. Instead, you lifted Loki’s hand from his pocket and interlaced your hands, giving yourself time to think.

“He’s too kind,” you finally said, addressing Eamon, “it was his kindness that first attracted me to him.”

“And how did you meet?” he asked.

Your heart flipped in your chest. You thought you had come up with something clever to fill the silence but really you’d just dug yourselves into an even deeper hole. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. Snapping it shut, you let out a sharp breath that you hoped he misconstrued for a laugh. If this was a competition, then both of you were failing miserably.

“Why don’t you tell the story?” you asked, looking up at Loki.

He looked down at you, eyes glazed over and you weren’t sure he even saw you. You dug your nails into his hand. Hard. The pain must have snapped him out of whatever thoughts he’d been sucked into because that smug little grin returned. You’d never thought you’d actually be glad to see it.

“It feels like it was yesterday,” his eyes were bright as if he found himself amusing, “I was in Midgard visiting King Earl and she was a maid.”

“So he thought,” you interrupted, doing your best not to glare at him. At least he was out of whatever that was, even if it meant he was back to annoying you, “I was actually a soldier in the king’s guard and I knocked Loki flat on his ass for his mistake.”

The fey’s eyes widened. Loki chuckled. He didn’t seemed bothered by your comment. If anything, it looked more like he was warming up to the idea of your little competition.

“That was only because I was stunned by her incredible beauty,” he explained.

“And my skill apparently.”

You thought he was going to offer another counterpoint, but instead he nodded, “it’s all true. Though I must say, normally we’re more evenly matched.”

Eamon nodded slowly, dark eyes taking in everything, “and what happened next?”

“I asked her to dinner,” Loki answered simply and you thought that was going to be that, but he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily, “but she said no.”

“No?” Eamon asked, surprised.

By now your little story had gathered a small crowd and everyone was looking at you expectantly. The human who’d turned down the future king of Asgard. You couldn’t glare at Loki, fearing you’d give something away, but you knew he was grinning, watching you squirm. You’d told hm to keep up. You should’ve expected that a king would play to win.

You shrugged, “I didn’t think we’d have anything in common. And I was busy.”

The last comment earned a few chuckled from the crowd and you lifted your free hand, palm up, as if to say what could I do about it.

Loki took over, “the next time I went back to Midgard, she realized that maybe she’d been too hasty to turn me down, and she asked me to dinner instead.”

“When someone looks this good, how are you supposed to say no,” you laughed, lifting onto your toes and kissing him on the cheek, “and he was so eager, it was adorable. He said yes immediately.”

He turned and stared at you as if you were the only person in the room. You were caught off guard by the intensity of it and you couldn’t look away. It was a dangerous game you were playing. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. You smirked.

“Eventually, we did go to dinner and got to know each other better,” he continued, turning to face the ever growing crowd, “turns out we had a lot more in common that she originally thought.”

The crowd laughed at his callback and you almost sighed with relief. The councilmen might not have bought the act yet, but at least the other nobles were beginning to seem convinced.

“It wasn’t love at first sight,” you murmured, knowing you didn’t have to speak loudly for them to hear, “but I think it’s something so much better than that,”

He tilted his head and looked at you with that half smirk and a glint in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you almost would have thought he was impressed. You grinned, hoping your smug look of victory came across as loving. You were good at this, and most importantly, now he knew it too. Just because he needed a queen, didn’t mean he couldn’t easily replace you if this wasn’t working out. You weren’t going to give him any reason to change his mind.

The councilman’s face was still silent and impassive. All you could hear was the heavy beat of your heart as you waited to see if he’d bought any of it.

A gentle smile softened Eamon’s expression and you almost squeed Loki’s hand with relief.

“You two seem to complement each other quite nicely,” Eamon said, “almost as if you were fated to meet.”

This time your smile was genuine. The orange moon was still far away, but at least you were headed in the right direction to get Nat out of Niflheim. Loki let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. You tried not to be stiff, but it was hard when you were hyper aware of every place that your bodies connected. You’d never been affectionate, even with Nat, so you found yourself over analyzing your posture, wondering how credible you could really be. Loki on the other hand seemed completely at ease, fingers drawing little circles on your side.

“I’m positive you will like it here in Asgard, Miss YLN. Although I’m sure you must find our realm a little strange,” Eamon continued.

His words let you know you weren’t doing a very good job at masking your discomfort.

“I’m fine as long as Loki is here with me,” you tentatively rested your head on his shoulder. It seemed like the right thing to do.

“YN is fine no matter what,” Loki affirmed, “she’s the strongest person I know, fey and human alike.”

You wanted to scoff at such a lie, but it was cut short when you saw the admiration in everyone’s eyes, even the councilman. For some reason, Loki seemed to be able to sell love far better than you could and you looked up to see just what you were missing. His eyes were wide and filled with puppy-like innocence that didn’t at all suit the fey you’d met and spent time with. The crowd didn’t seem to agree. It was a good reminder of his skills as a liar and how little you could actually trust him.

“I must admit that I was worried when I saw that your future queen was human,” Eamon shot an apologetic smile your way, “but I must say that your confidence has inspired me, Prince Loki. I’m looking forward to seeing how both of you manage with your trials in the future.”

Loki tensed at your side, but you didn’t know why. Eamon’s words were a good thing. He wanted to see how you’d overcome obstacles in the future which meant that he wasn’t ready to kick you out of the palace just yet. That might have only made one council member, but you had to start somewhere.

“And we’ll do it with grace and dignity,” you beamed, your cheeks sore from all the fake smiling.

Eamon nodded and wished you a good rest of evening, and with that, the crowd seemed to disperse as well. You stepped out of Loki’s arms and walked off to the banquet table in search of food and a reason to stand facing the windows, desperate for a break in the whole act.

“I think that went well,” you murmured when you felt Loki walk up beside you.

“Not bad,” he agreed, “you’re almost as good at this as I am, sweetheart.”

You snorted, “better, prince. Better.”

“We’ll have to see about that,” he promised, “get ready. Here’s another councilman. Three down, two to go.”

You sighed and popped a small berry that looked like a grape into your mouth. You rolled back your shoulders.

“Ready.”

You both turned around at the same time, wide smiles on your faces.

“So that’s it then?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe to the banquet hall.

Your legs could barely keep you standing and you could feel the soft pulses of a headache coming on. The party was dwindling, but all of the council members were still mingling with the remaining guests. When you’d asked, Loki had said that he’d wanted to stay until they had all gone. All you wanted to do was eat a real meal and go to bed. If you could, you wanted to try and find the Hand first, but really, there was nothing you wanted more than food and sleep. But none of that mattered. You were stuck here.

“You look tired,” Loki remarked, but when you opened your eyes, he was scanning the crowd thoughtfully.

“Human,” you answered and hoped it was enough of an explanation that he wouldn’t press for the real reason.

“True,” he hummed, “I forget sometimes by the way you stare down the council as if you’re ready to fight them all at once. It’s not wonder none of the other guests were brave enough to approach.”

You were about to retort but realized he had a point. And you were too tired to say anything. You let your head fall back on to the wall and closed your eyes.

“I’ll work on it,” you muttered.

He didn’t say anything. Only when you opened your eyes a few moments later thinking maybe he’d left you standing alone did he say, “why don’t we head out?”

You pushed off the doorway, “yes.”

He chuckled and offered you an arm, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this enthusiastic.”

“Well, you’ve never threatened me with a good time before,” you took his arm, surprised by how familiar the gesture had already become.

“And what do you think I’m offering you now?” he asked.

“A meal and a bed, hopefully.”

He raised a brow.

You smacked his arm, “not yours.”

“So yours then,” he smirked.

You smacked him again or good measure.

“We’re not saying goodbye?” you asked when you noticed you were headed away from the party.

“We can always turn back.”

You pulled him along, “don’t you dare.”

Loki slowed his stride and let YN set the pace. She looked exhausted and he felt bad for not having realized sooner the extent of what he’d asked of her. He should have warned her earlier about the councilmen or at least given her more information about what she was going to expect but he’d been too afraid she’d decide the Hand wasn’t worth it and leave him stranded. And despite all that, she’d done amazing in there. She’d even made a party with the council bearable, which was something he didn’t think he’d ever say. It didn’t matter that she’d made her stance on the whole situation very clear by glaring at him every chance she got, the crowd seemed to love her. Which was far more than he could saw of himself. As soon as Eamon had mentioned Cortese he’d frozen up, lost in memories. The only reason no one had questioned his behaviour was because YN had brought him back fast enough that it wasn’t too suspicious and the fact that he was king. Or used to be. If he didn’t start acting like he was in love, all the power in the world wouldn’t make him king of Asgard again. Hela had made sure of that.

Despite having a million other things to do tonight, he wanted nothing other than an early night and a peaceful sleep. But with Hela whispering in the council’s ear day and night, along with the imminent war Gamora had foreseen, Loki hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in moons.

He looked over at YN who’d been quiet since they’d left the hall. She’d done more than enough tonight. He didn’t have to drag her with him.

“YN?”

“Hmm?”

When he looked down at her, he realized her eyes were closed and that she was letting him guide her. Loki was only surprised for a moment before he remembered always seeing her with a glass in her hands. Obviously what she was feeling wasn’t trust.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

Her brows furrowed but her eyes still didn’t open, “when?”

“Right now.”

That got her attention.

“Eat and sleep,” she replied without thought.

She didn’t say it aloud, but Loki knew she also wanted to be alone. He could see it on her face and the way she’d let out a small sigh when they’d first walked into the silent hallway. He understood the need more than she could imagine.

“I can have dinner sent up to your room…or we can do something else if you prefer?” he added quickly when her face pinched into a strange expression he couldn’t read.

“No,” she blurted out and then stated more calmly, the first option’s fine. Are you joining?”

He shook his head, “only if you’d like me too.”

She seemed to hesitate, looking at the walls as if they physically had ears.

He saved her from having to find a clever way to turn him down, “actually, I have things to take care of tonight and I have to return to the banquet hall. Do you know the way back to your room?”

She nodded so quickly Loki almost laughed. She was a terrible liar. He didn’t know where the performance in the council room had come from, but he had no doubts she was lying to him now. The prospect of being on her own seemed to have rejuvenated her. She straightened, cricking her neck from side to side and scratching over her shoulder. She obviously wanted to take a look around — without him around of course.

“Explore or don’t,” he said, truly meaning it, “the council knows who you are now, so no one will kick you out of the palace if they see you snooping around.”

“Who says I’ll be snooping?” she yawned for effect, “I was planning on getting an early night.”

This time he couldn’t help but laugh, “sure. Goodnight YN. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Her face fell.

“Don’t worry, it’s only breakfast,” he reassured her, omitting the fact that they had a meeting after breakfast. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was no secret that she didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her. He was lying and he didn’t trust her either.

“Only with you?” she clarified.

“Only with me,” he echoed.

That seemed to appease her and she was about to leave when something occurred to him. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She paused, “only if I can ask you one.”

“Fair enough,” he amended, “would you spar with me some time?”

Loki had been surprised when she’d said that she was a soldier and he was more than a little curious to know how many of her lies had been based in truth. She’d shut down all his earlier attempts at getting to know her better and he was certain she’d do her best to keep it that way. So he figured he would have to be more clever about it.

He was surprised, and pleased, when she nodded.

“I would like that.”

“Good,” he murmured, afraid that if he said anything else she might change her mind, “your turn.”

“What Lucius said about…” she didn’t finished her sentence but she didn’t have to. He knew what she was talking about.

“He likes to speak out of turn,” Loki paused, choosing his words carefully. There was no one else in the hallway, but this was information that his future queen should have already known, “some of the council members haven’t always been supportive of the fact that there was an equal chance that there could have been two kings on the throne or a king and a queen. Even if fate decided to bring you into my life, those council members still seem bitter about my personal preferences..

She nodded slowly, taking the information in. There wasn’t much other than a thoughtful expression on her face and Loki was relieved. This whole thing would have been finished if she had reacted any other way.

“Has there ever been two kings or two queens in Asgard?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he smirked, “but love is love. And in Asgard, that’s the only requirement. There’s nothing they could say or do about it.”

Her face softened and she took his hand. The gesture surprised him, even more so when she gave it a little squeeze, “as it should be. Goodnight prince.”

And then she walked off in the wrong direction.

When he pointed that out, she looked back over her shoulder, an innocent smile on her face that didn’t match the mischief in her eyes, “just taking a little detour, don’t worry about it.”

He was probably going to worry about it later, but he watched her walk away. He’d promised himself that he’d give her as much freedom as was safe for her and his realm. There was no way she’d find the Hand on her own, so he had to trust that she wasn’t really and threat and that she’d be safe after what he was about to do.

When he couldn’t hear her steps anymore, he turned back to the council room. No one reacted when he walked in.

Hela had made her move less than a moon ago, but the council had taken that opportunity whole-heartedly to remind him that he was no longer king. He was only a prince temporarily in charge of the realm, but he wasn’t going to lose his position. He refused to let his people fall into Hela’s hands. Loki had never wanted the crown, but now that he’d had it, he was going to make damn well sure that he kept it. His brother had asked for that much.

“Listen closely.”

Loki didn’t need to shout. His voice carried throughout the room, his tone reminding them that he had once been their king. And with reason. He was far more powerful than everyone in this room, even some of them combined.

“No one touches YN,” he warned, his words slow and deliberate. He found every set of eyes in the room, making sure they all felt seen, “she will be your future queen. There is no doubt about it in my mind. And she might not have a long lifespan, but I have a long memory. You will treat her with the same respect as you did my mother. You’ve been warned.”

He didn’t give them a chance to answer and walked back out of the room. Loki didn’t think any of them would go outright and kill her, but he knew enough of them were power hungry bigots to do something stupid. Thankfully, the council was still wary of him even if he wasn’t their king any more. He could rest easier knowing they’d been warned and his own court was keeping an eye on YN most of the time. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but he wasn’t going to lock her up or stop her from roaming the palace, even if it did cost him his title.

He strode through the palace, not sure where he was heading and not sure what to do with himself. His whole body felt two sizes too small and he couldn’t shake the feeling. There were so many other things he had to do, but he couldn’t make himself decide on one. Only the thought of his bead was appealing, and even then, he was too restless to really consider it.

“I saw your queen,” Nebula said, falling into step beside him.

She was still dressed in her commanders uniform, dirt smudged over her eyebrow. She’d been sparring with the soldiers again. Not that he was surprised. She been so grumpy this morning that he pitied his army; though at least he knew they’d be prepared to face anything. There were very few things that were more terrifying than his commander when she was angry.

“Where was she?” he asked.

Nebula’s voice was clipped, her mood no better than it was this morning, “roaming the halls, looking incredibly suspicious.”

Loki threw up a magical sound bubble that would contain their voices. Knowing how suspicious it looked, he didn’t like to do it often, even if it was now the second time he’d done it today, but he knew she wasn’t about to let this go. Feeling the magic, she waited until it snapped into place.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a laugh, knowing that just because they couldn’t be heard didn’t mean they couldn’t be seen.

Nebula crossed her arms, keeping up with his long strides, “she wants the Hand, Loki.”

He waved away her worry, “it’s safe.”

“What makes you think she won’t get it?”

He shot her a look. They both knew who was guarding it. There was no way anyone was getting it — human or otherwise. His answer didn’t seem to satisfy her.

“Who says she’s not a spy?” she continued, her voice rising with irritation, “who says she’s not here for the book to give it to Hela? Who says we even have the right woman?”

Loki tried not to pinch the bridge of his nose. Nebula was right to be concerned; there was a reason he’d appointed her as commander. Still, he found himself saying with more confidence than he felt, “I wanted to know how to prevent Hela from winning over the crown and it gave me her name. She has to be the future queen.”

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe we need to kill her and not work with her?” Nebula demanded.

The words were harsh, but valid. Yet Loki knew Nebula wouldn’t actually go through with it. As far as they knew, YN was innocent, despite wanting the Hand. And he was sure she was an ally, not an enemy. He couldn’t explain why he was so certain, but he’d decided it the moment he’d met her. However, it wasn’t like he could explain that to Nebula. She would need something far more concrete than a gut feeling.

“You’re being rash,” she continued.

He realized she was steering them toward the kitchen and his stomach growled in anticipation. He wasn’t sure how she did it, or if she was even aware she was doing it, but Nebula had a way of knowing what was best for their court, even if her harsh demeanour didn’t always make it very evident.

“Says the woman who wants to kill the future queen,” he countered.

“She wouldn’t be the future queen if you had thought things through,” she growled, stopping him a hand to his chest, “we’re walking a thing line here, Loki.”

“I know that! But I needed to present my queen today and she showed up just in time. Don’t you think there’s something to that?” Loki’s voice was rising and his control was slipping. The bubble around them almost dropped in the burst of emotion.

She poked him in the chest, but she’d lost all bite at his outburst. They were both tired and running through this blind. Arguing wouldn’t help any of them see things clearer.

“We had a backup plan,” she murmured.

“You would have been miserable as queen,” he shot her a smile, “especially that you would have to admit that you find me incredibly attractive.”

She punched him on the arm, “I’m a good liar.”

“Very true,” he laughed, “but this is the best option, Nebula. Trust me.” Loki wasn’t sure that he trusted himself, but he had to believe he was doing the right thing. And if he wasn’t, at least he knew his court was there to help with his mistakes — and to make sure he never forgot them, “and I’ll stay on my guard with YN.”

She sighed reluctantly, but finally looked convinced, “okay.”

“Okay,” he changed the subject, “what have the citizens been saying?”

“They’ll fight if it comes to war again. I tried to reassure them that nothing was wrong and that we were just gathering information, but they know something’s coming. They can feel it,” Nebula shrugged, “Hela’s arrival’s made them all uneasy.”

He nodded slowly and sighed, “better they’re wary than oblivious.”

“They’d better be wary,” Nebula said with a printed look, “you have a human for a future queen and she was stupid enough to agree to the trials. You’d better hope you were right about what that thing meant when it gave you the word YN.”

Loki could only nod and let the magic bubble drop. He was about to follow her into the kitchen when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The hallway was empty, but he could have sworn he’d seen something. He listened closely, waiting to see if whoever it was might give themselves away.

“Are you coming?” Nebula called from the kitchen.

He heard the banging of pots and decided he’d better go inside before she decided to start cooking and accidentally set the palace on fire. With one last look around, he walked into the kitchen.

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