#i have to assume a city notices a person disappearing every 5 days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tootiredmotel · 3 years

Text

a different lover is not a sin

or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did

Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole

1 - 1994

Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.

"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."

Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.

"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."

Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.

Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.

Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.

---

2 - 2000

Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.

Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.

The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.

For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.

He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.

But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.

Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.

“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.

The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”

He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”

He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.

“What’s bisexual?”

The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.

“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.

The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.

---

3 - 2004

By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.

The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.

But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.

Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.

And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.

Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.

So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.

It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.

Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.

He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.

He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.

That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.

But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.

Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.

Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”

“She was in the what?”

“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.

---

5 - 2014

Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.

“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."

Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."

“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”

Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”

“Pride.”

Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”

And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.

“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.

But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.

John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.

Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.

It still got his heart split in two.

Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?

It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.

Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.

Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?

---

+1 - 2021

Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.

They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.

They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.

He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.

He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.

Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.

He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.

Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas’s now– to pack a small duffle.

Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.

“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”

Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.

“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”

Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.

Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.

They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.

Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”

It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.

“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.

“The parade? No, not really.”

And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."

He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.

And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."

The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.

They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.

He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.

When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.

Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.

---

The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.

They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.

They fit right in.

The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.

The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.

Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?

He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.

On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.

He’s proud to be here.

The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.

“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.

Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.

“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”

She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.

Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.

“What’s up?”

If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”

So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.

And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.

There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.

He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.

He has it now too. He can be himself.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.

Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.

There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.

“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”

Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.

He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.

Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.

So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.

The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.

350 notes · View notes

missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

First Time

Cillian's a sweet, innocent 18 year old from Cork, who's about to move to Dublin to kick-start his acting career. His eyes are suddenly opened to a new world of opportunity and possibility.

Warnings - loss of virginity / smutty one shot

Taglist - @margoo0 @peakyscillian @queenshelby @janelongxox @noctvrnalmoth

"How are you doing Cill?" You walked into your best friend's house to find him at the dining table, looking through a handwritten list in his hands.

"Just checking I've got everything I need for the train in the morning - god I'm nervous!" You kissed the top of his head affectionately and squeezed his shoulder.

"It's going to be fine, okay? I know this is a change of direction for you, but you've already proved how good at this you are!" You'd seen him onstage at a local venue in Cork city the previous month and he'd blown you away with how good an actor he was. So confident, striking, and dare you say it, handsome..

"It's still performing, y/n, that's what I want. This feels right though. The music thing was fun, but this feels right. I wish you could come with me?"

"I have university, and you know my father isn't letting me leave Ballintemple anytime soon," you laughed. Your father, the local police chief, was incredibly overprotective, didn't want his daughter anywhere near the bright lights of Dublin city. Cillian's parents were much more easy going, and had welcomed you into their family almost as a third daughter, since you'd met in high school. "Think of the women you'll meet! All those city girls out on the town!" You saw his head drop slightly, and the smile vanished.

"Yeah.." he looked out the window.

"What's wrong?" You sat next to him at the table and took his hand. He'd never know what the touch of his skin did to you and that's how it would stay.

"Promise me you won't laugh, yeah? Promise me?" He held up his pinky finger to clasp it with yours. A ritual you'd had since the day you met.

"Can't break a pinky promise!" You laughed, as he quickly looked round to check the house was still empty.

"Okay.. I've never.. I've never done anything.. with a woman.." he was visibly nervous and his hands were shaky. You were shocked. Neither of you had spoken about your personal encounters with anyone else, you just assumed he'd had a few of the local girls - good looking guy, toned, slender body, confident.. this was a complete surprise to you and your face clearly expressed your shock.

"Well... Um..."

"You think I'm daft now don't ye?" He pulled his finger away from yours and fell back onto his chair.

"No. No I don't. I think.." you gulped, "I think I know what we can do.." his neck turned sharply to look at you.

"Help me? Y/n I'm not calling Marie..." His ex. She'd left him when she found out he was moving away. They'd only been dating a month or two but long enough for him to think she was actually the one he'd give himself to.

"No, god no, she's had more men than hot dinners Cill, you're well shot of her. The only thing she'd give you is something you'd need antibiotics to get rid of!" You both laughed at this. "Is anyone home?" He shook his head. His siblings were at school for another couple of hours, both his parents were at work and wouldn't be home until at least 5. You stood up and brought him to stand with you.

"You remember the pact we made? When we were 14?" You ran your hands over his shoulders. He took a deep breath and shook his head. There was a flick of recognition in his eyes, did he just want you to say it?

"We promised that if we were still virgins at 18, we'd take care of it together.. Well, we're 18 now..." You pulled him closer. You'd nearly lost yours the year before, but you didn't feel ready.

"You haven't...?" You shook your head. "We were just kids, y/n.. I can't let you do this -" your lips were on his in an instant. He was hesitant at first, before he gave in and returned the kiss passionately.

"I want to.. I've wanted to for a long time.. but then you got with Marie and I just figured it had already happened.."

"No.. just hadn't got round to it.. never felt right.."

"And does this? Does this feel right?" You took his hand and placed it on your chest. Moving it down, under your shirt and over your bra-covered breast. He gasped your name and you felt his hardness pressing into your stomach through his baggy sweatshorts.

"Yes.. this feels right.." his lips were on yours again before you pulled away to lead him up the stairs. Pushing open his door you turned to face him and lifted your t-shirt over your head slowly. His eyes watching your every move. He moved closer, his hands behind you unclasping your bra.

"Easier than they look those things..."

"Sit down on the bed yeah? I wanna try something..." He sat down, and you knelt in front of him, pulling his shorts down his knees. You gasped at his hard cock, springing up and already leaking a little. "You might have to guide me..." he smiled, and took your hand. Placing it around his cock, he moved it up and down. You carried on as he moved his hand to rest on your face softly.

"Jesus... Fuck that feels good.. bit tighter yeah?" You smiled, gripping him tighter. His hand moved closer to your mouth as you stroked him, and he brushed his thumb over your lips. You instinctively opened your mouth and his thumb moved inside, your tongue licking it slowly. You looked up into his eyes, the way his mouth moved as his breath became heavier was driving you crazy - you could feel wetness between your legs and a sudden need for him deep within you. You loved watching him moan. He pulled you closer, your face now inches away from his cock as you realised what he wanted. Nervously, you placed your mouth over the tip, and slowly started to move him further down into your mouth. You quickly found a rhythm, and began to bob your head up and down.

"Suck.. just a little.. please.." he gasped as your mouth took him. You complied and the throbbing between your legs intensified as his moans became almost primal.

"Shit... Oh... Slow down, Jesus..." Slowing down was NOT part of your plan. You wanted to taste him. Your mouth bobbing up and down quicker. "You need to stop... Fuck... Y/n.. aahh..." You felt his balls tighten as he shot deep into your throat, unable to hold back any longer. You swallowed down what you could, but the force of it made some leak down your chin. Your fingers swiped it off your face and you licked it off slowly.

"That was amazing... You taste good!" You moved your body up to kiss him, making him taste himself in the process.

"You're so beautiful y/n.. you know that?" You smiled, his compliment gave you goosebumps, made your heart soar. For years you'd wanted this, and now it was happening.. the night before he left the city, but still...

"I can feel this throbbing feeling down there... Wanna help me take care of it?" You pushed him down onto the bed and lay next to him, bringing his hand between your legs. He moaned softly feeling the warm dampness between them. You opened your legs and he leaned up slightly, exploring your body. Finding your folds with his fingers, he opened them, running a finger from the bottom to the top, noticing how you gasped when he reached a small bundle of skin near the top. You grabbed his hand and moved it down to collect some of the moisture leaking out of you, before bringing it back up to circle the little nub slowly. Your body started to writhe, your moans getting a little louder as he started to pleasure you, and your hand moved away allowing him to continue.

"That feels good.. don't stop..." He planted small kisses along your shoulder, gasping as he felt your hand curl around his semi-hard shaft again. "Feels so good... Oh god... Cillian...." You felt him shift down the bed, fingers suddenly away from you. You looked down to see him lay between your thighs, placing small kisses on the insides of them, moving closer to your core.

"What are you - oh!!" His tongue quickly found your clit again, running circles over it as a finger teased your hole slowly. You tensed in anticipation.

"Baby relax..." He continued on your clit and slowly eased a finger inside you. "Fuck you feel good... So fucking tight..." He could've come again just from this, but he held back. You threw your head back as your orgasm started to build. This was better than any orgasm you'd ever given yourself, his tongue working magic over you. You suddenly felt a second finger enter you, but you couldn't tense up, your body was in a state of its own now.

"Cill... Don't stop, I'm gonna cum.. please..." You sat up as the force of your orgasm swamped you. Your hips riding against his mouth as you came over him. You had to pull his tongue away before you alerted the neighbours to what was happening, but his fingers remained inside you, gently pumping away.

"I can feel you clenching me.. fuck that was incredible y/n.." he pulled his fingers away, and moved his body on top of yours.

"Do you have a condom?" He looked into your eyes hoping to God that you did, but knowing it was highly unlikely..

"No, but I've been on the pill for a while now.. and we're virgins, so we know we're both clean. Go for it..."

"You sure you wanna do this?"

"I've never wanted anything more in my life." He lined himself up against your entrance and pushed his way in slowly. Breathing hard, trying to control himself - he didn't wanna end this too soon. You both looked down to watch as his cock slowly began to disappear inside you. He stopped when he felt a barrier, he couldn't go any further.

"This is gonna sting... But it won't last long.. I'm right here okay?" He whispered in your ear gently. Despite his inexperience, he'd heard his friends talking about sex enough to know this part would be uncomfortable for you. You kissed his lips, and brought a hand down to rub your clit softly, relaxing you. "Jesus woman... That's one way to relax huh?" You smiled and brought your legs over his waist, urging him. He pulled back a little, and with a kiss to your lips he thrust inside, groaning deeply from the feeling of being buried in you, breaking the seal. You cried out, it did sting... And you felt tears in your eyes. Cillian paused, allowing you time to adjust, and softly kissed your cheeks. The pain subsiding now, you felt so full and warm.

"You can move.. go slow.." he began to ease in and out slowly, gritting his teeth at the glorious friction surrounding his cock, willing himself to hold on from exploding in you.

"You feel amazing... Fuck y/n... Oh god..." He picked up the pace, hips grinding into yours. You raised your hips to meet his thrusts, and the pleasure coursing through you took your breath away. He adjusted his angle slightly, and pushed in, when the amount of pleasure you felt from that thrust caused you to cry his name.

"I don't know what you did, but do it again... Right there!!" He moved again to find that spot that clearly drove you wild, finding it quickly and aiming for it with every thrust into you. His hands were either side of your head, gripping onto the bed sheets as he started to pound into you relentlessly. Your back was arching again, this feeling was so new, but so fucking good..

"I think... Oh god Cillian I think I'm gonna cum again..." Neither of you were expecting this, you had no idea a woman could orgasm from sex alone.. it washed over you quickly, your core on fire as he continued to fuck you.

"Baby... I can't hold it..." You lifted his face up from your neck, you wanted to watch his face when he came. His eyes scrunched closed, mouth falling open silently as he came hard and deep inside you. Your orgasm extended into bliss as you watched him, and heard his primal groan as he finished spurting, you could feel it lining your insides.

You held him as he rested his lips against the crook of your neck, both of you panting against each other.

"Fuck that was good..." He pulled out of you, coming to rest next to you on the bed. You leaned into him, his arm pulling you close.

"Come with me?" He lifted your face up to meet his, kissing your lips softly.

"You know I can't.. my Dad.."

"I'll talk to your Dad - he loves me more than you." You punched his arm playfully. Your Dad did think very highly of Cillian, that's for sure. He wouldn't if he knew what Cillian had just done with his only daughter though! "You don't start uni for a few months, I'll be gone for a couple of weeks and I don't think I can wait that long to do this again..."

"You want to do this again?" You were sat up now, stunned at what you just heard.

"I wanna do that to you every single day for the rest of our lives y/n.. can't do that if I'm in Dublin and you're still here, now can I?" You were in shock.. what was he saying?

"You mean, you want me? To be your girl?"

"Y/n, you've always been my girl - just never made it official did we? Be mine, yeah?"

"I've always been yours, about time you noticed." You brought him close to kiss him again, your whole future playing out in both your minds, and you couldn't wait to get started on it.

#cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x smut

111 notes · View notes

milstrim · 3 years

Text

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 1: Hand in My Pocket

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter's not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he'd always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn't want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

—-

The red glare of the setting sun set the City That Never Sleeps in a persistent glow as the last of the golden rays disappeared behind the pillars of the city, outlining every shadow. There was the silhouette of buildings, of cars racing along the road, of people stalking down the street in the usual New York bustle, and there was the shadow of Spider-Man as he swung overhead. Not that it was really his shadow.

Where there should have been a perfect replica of the boy clinging to a web as he dipped low (one that outlined his lumpy goggles and rumpled suit) there was instead the poofiness of fluffed up hair and sharp slacks. The movements of the shadow replicated the boy, like they were supposed to, but nothing else indicated that this shadow belonged to the vigilante swinging through the street.

And Peter liked it that way.

Observing the difference between people's shadow had always been a game to the boy, to watch a thin woman walk around while a curvy figure followed her, or too see a little boy being tracked by the silhouette of a tutu and puffy hair. Until very recently, the teenager had loved to stare at his Aunt and Uncle's shadows whenever he could, always fascinated by the way they reflected each other with a broad smile on his face.

Now, though, neither of them had shadows, and Peter didn't smile as often. He didn't feel like there was much reason to. It had been his fault, after all. His fault they'd never get to see flashes of each other when their shadows disappeared in the dark, his fault they'd never walk under the sun with their shadows in line with the other. It was his fault they'd bled out in an alley so dark their shadows hadn't even been there to comfort them as they left.

Spider-Man rattled an anxious, forced breath through his tight lungs as he propelled himself upwards on his webs. He instinctively looked for the taped together watch he kept on his webshooter to catch the time, though he knew he had plenty. Still, after his last time missing curfew at Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, he wasn't anxious to repeat the experience. And he did have to swing across the bridge to make his way back to Queens since he'd branched out to Manhattan for the night.

The cracked watch read that it was barely seven, though, so Peter still had a few hours before he had to be back. Mr. Fowler didn't care much what they did as long as they were back before ten, unless it was one of his "days," which really just meant he was as drunk as a skunk and completely willing to smack a few boys upside their head and be unreasonably dickish about the rules. But other than that, Peter was usually left to his own devices to patrol around the streets of his city and try everything in his power to make up for what had happened barely six months ago.

But it would never be enough.

Peter stopped on top of a billboard that clung to the side of a building, landing clumsily and only barely managing to slip his fingers around the poster for a new movie. His world swam--just a little bit--as he regained his bearings. He shook his head at the dizziness that had become a constant ever since moving to live at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but it wasn't like it was their fault. All the boys were reasonably well-cared for, with regular mealtimes, a generous curfew, and easy access to schools, but they weren't really equipped to deal with Peter.

The teenager held back a sigh as his stomach grumbled painfully. He'd eaten the last of his stash of granola bars that he'd bought after a tourist he'd helped had forced a few bills on him. He didn't like taking money, but he couldn't deny that those bars had helped for the two weeks that he'd made them stretch.

Forcing down a hungry grumble of annoyance, Peter turned to survey his shadow instead, the one that had always been the same. Ever since he could remember. Even when he'd been in kindergarten, there'd been the tall and protective shadow of his soulmate behind him. Despite everything, and despite how selfish it felt, it was comforting to look down and see that familiar crop of hair. He reached a hand up to touch his head, never quite used to the way his fingers brushed up against cloth but the shadow underneath him swept through fluffed up tufts.

His soulmate's hair today was messy, not as poofed up as it usually was. Today must be a casual day for him or something, which weren't very often, but when they did occur they often lasted for days. Other days he could make out the outline of glasses and the sharp angles of clothing that made him think of a business suit, though he couldn't be sure. They were only a shadow after all. Peter wondered what his soulmate thought about his own shadow, if he'd noticed anything odd, but, then again, Peter's shadow probably just looked like he was wearing a hoodie all the time, and maybe what could pass as some pretty obnoxious glasses. He'd used to have those anyway.

Peter tilted his head, enjoying the way the hair on the sidewalk underneath him flopped with him. For some reason, Peter found it very amusing when one had hair showing and the other didn't. It just looked a little ridiculous. Recently, it had been the teenager who had been donning the hoodie over his head, but Peter assumed that his soulmate was usually wearing something too. More often than not, he'd look down to see the hair gone, covered by a sharp outline that really had him questioning his soulmate's fashion sense.

The thought brought a snicker to his lips. He nestled more comfortably atop the billboard. There hadn't been any good action in a while anyway.

"Where do you think we should go next?" he asked aloud, and he didn't know if he was asking himself or the shadow of his soulmate underneath. He didn't know why, but he'd always felt like they'd give really good advice. "There hasn't really been much going on, and I haven't seen any of those alien-weapon guys since the knock-off Avengers robbed that bank. Maybe we could try and find out whoever you are again. That'd be kind of fun."

'Kind of fun.' Yeah, right. It was the only thing Peter looked forward to anymore.

Before, he'd always been excited to graduate, to go through college and apply to Stark Industries, his Aunt and Uncle's smiles egging him on the entire way. He'd looked forward to band and robotics and, while he'd stayed, decathlon too. It wasn't as fun as it had been before, but Ned was still there. Liz too. They were nice, and it was good to see their smiles and hear their occasional pitying encouragement that usually only pissed him off (not that he'd ever let them know, they were just trying to help after all), but they weren't what Peter was looking for.

Then again, Peter wasn't 100% he knew what he was looking for either.

He was pretty sure his soulmate was something to look forward to. Ben and May had always described what it felt like to find your soulmate, to be able to stare at shadows your entire life until you found who you were looking for. You would touch their hand and your shadows would switch, and when you let go, the shadow remained to your universe approved bond again. The satisfaction of finally piecing together the flashes you got whenever both shadows disappeared into the darkness. It was something Aunt May and Uncle Ben had always enticed him about, always encouraged.

Maybe if he could find his soulmate, everything would be better. Everything would be perfect, like May and Ben had always proclaimed.

But that was childish, and Peter knew it. Soulmates didn't fix everything, and meeting his soulmate certainly wouldn't improve his situation. They were a regular person with a regular life. He was a second-rate vigilante that had been orphaned twice. Besides, nothing could really help Peter. Not that he needed help. He just needed to grow out of the system so he could make something that actually felt like life rather than the scraping by that it had become.

By the time Peter moved from his spot, it was because his shadow had dimmed with the entrance of New York darkness. He stood up, barely able to make out the faintness of his soulmate, and flicked his wrist out. He still had a little bit before he had to be back at the group home, so he reckoned he'd be fine. He'd be back in time that Mr. Fowler wouldn't give him another strike and he could still eat dinner. He'd do his homework, go to bed, and the next day would be the same horrible numbness of before.

"Any ideas on where the best crime is, Matey?" he asked his shadow, "Maybe superpowers can leech over to soulmates. That'd be really cool actually. Soulologists haven't been able to prove anything other than memory flashes. We could break that entire field of study if that were true."

His soulmate, of course, didn't answer. But the scuffle of a fight and a warped sound unlike anything the teenager had ever heard, did.

---

Tony glanced around his emptying lab, a tired glint in his eyes as he did. Large portions of the tower had been emptied and organized into large crates as they anticipated the move from the tower to the compound. Most of his lab had stayed the same throughout the process, as staff weren't allowed up here, leaving it mostly up to the billionaire himself to pack up his things. Glancing around at the piles of disheveled work and unfinished projects, he might have to get some help anyway. Or, if he started packing now, he'd have plenty of time to do it by himself.

He turned back to the suit he was working on.

The horribly challenging nanoparticles as part of his newest suit were barely coming together. It was incredibly difficult, which made it the most fun thing he'd worked on in a while, which also meant he'd been working on it for two days straight. It was a good thing Pepper was working in another country at the moment and wasn't there to make him go to bed or take a break or anything worthless like that. Then again, he guessed Pepper wasn't the only one with the power to do that.

"Sir," Friday started, "You are approaching your extent of working without a break. I suggest you go to sleep."

"I'm almost done, girl," he replied at the same moment the gauntlet he was working on sparked. He hissed in pain as he withdrew his newly burnt fingers, his vision swimming slightly. He blinked furiously to clear the dark spots from his sight. "Okay, maybe a break isn't such a bad idea."

"Great choice, sir."

"Don't patronize me," he scolded, grabbing a nearby jacket to throw over his stained shirt and a pair of sunglasses despite the late hour, "I'm taking a break, not going to sleep. Keep the lab running for me, I'm gonna go grab a coffee."

"Might I suggest a calming tea instead?"

"You most certainly may not."

Tony stepped into the brightly lit elevator, staring down at his shadow as he usually did when he was alone. The sight of the usual hoodie brought a smile to his face. His soulmate must have a hoodie addiction as strong as his coffee one, though he usually preferred whenever he could see the kid's curly hair before it was eventually tamed down by what he guessed was a godly amount of hair gel.

His soulmate had turned fifteen recently, he knew. August tenth was the first day he'd had a shadow, one of a tiny baby curled up at his feet. He remembered fondly what it had felt like to look down one random morning and see the dark blob at his feet, the confusion and the joy as he'd realized it moved with him. After thirty-one years, a soulmate of his very own.

He'd loved to watch them grow through their shadows, though his favorite was the little snippets he'd get of their life. Like for everyone else, they were very rare, especially in the bright cities he was accustomed to living in. There was always just a little bit of light somewhere in New York, but he remembered vividly the little snatches he'd managed to get from his soulmate's life when both of their shadows faded into a shade of the dark completely.

A deeply nerdy room with Star Wars posters. The bustling streets of a city. And, more recently, dark alleyways that had made him more than a little nervous. His soulmate was only a kid after all, but it was a bit hypocritical for him to be any kind of judgmental after his own teenage years, and it wasn't like he could do anything.

Other than what he was doing now.

The flashes of the streets he'd seen in his soulmate visions had reminded him deeply of New York (though they could just as easily have been from another city in the States), so Tony had made the effort to go out more whenever he could. Usually he couldn't stay for long, he was pretty busy after all. Still, local coffee shops and street vendors had become frequented by Tony Stark as he'd searched. He knew it was a little ridiculous to parade around the streets of New York City in the hopes that he would stumble upon his soulmate, but after everything that had happened with the team, he could at least try to throw in a little optimism.

The mechanic blinked out thoughts of the broken team as the elevator opened on the empty bottom floor, making his way through the darkly lit lobby and out the door into the streets. Street lamps were lit brightly, and, coupled by the headlight of cars and the alternating colors of traffic light, his soulmate was able to walk alongside Tony as he crossed the road and began down the sidewalk.

"Any recommendations for a good coffee shop, my little shadow?" Tony asked his soulmate. The people on the street paid him no mind, not that it was unusual for people to talk to their shadows. "If you do live around here, you must have at least a few recommendations. Well, I guess you are a kid, but I drank plenty of caffeine when I was your age, so."

He shrugged to himself, stopping at a street corner and pursing his lips as he thought. He'd really only explored Manhattan when looking for his soulmate, but walking across the bridge into Brooklyn and Queens would take much too long. He did want to get back to his project after all.

Tony made a turn, resolving to just find whatever new café he could. Maybe he'd explore Brooklyn or Harlem after the move. Or maybe Queens, he had been wanting to try and meet that Spider-Kid for a while anyway. He'd thought he'd had an opportunity when Rogers and his merry band had taken Barnes and left in Germany, but everything had gone by just too quick and he didn't even know the guy's identity. Not for lack of trying. The guy was pretty good at avoiding cameras, it almost made Tony jealous.

The billionaire walked for about fifteen minutes, passing by every coffee shop he'd already been to in search of a new one. There were plenty in Manhattan, but Tony had been to so many at this point it was a little ridiculous. He stopped, ready to pull out his phone and see where the nearest one he could find was, when he caught sight of a man out of the corner of his eye.

He frowned. How long had that man been following him? A few blocks at least, he recognized that green jacket from when he'd passed by Beany Business.

The light turned from an orange hand to a white silhouette, and Tony hurried across the street. He hadn't brought any kind of weapons with him, and he really wasn't in the mood to cause some kind of scene. If he was quick, he could probably lose this guy and still get to his coffee shop without some kind of annoying disturbance.

Tony allowed himself to be swept up in the crowd of late-goers, moving with them quickly. He let that crowd trickle by and joined another, and then joined one more of a drunk afterparty before finally slipping down an alleyway when he could no longer see the green jacket. He blinked in surprise as he caught sight of a coffee shop just across the street, bright red letters reading 'The Coffee Club.'

He smiled. Perfect.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he strolled down the alleyway towards the cheap looking café. And then a figure stepped in the entrance, blocking the view from across the street and slapping Tony's easygoing smile off of his face.

The billionaire immediately tensed as his eyes roamed over the green jacket, the covered face, and finally the gun pointed towards him. His eyebrow raised as his gaze rested on the weapon that wasn't really a gun. It was splayed out like a robotic arm, shiny and just a little bit clunky but clearly dangerous.

"Hands in the air, Stark," the man ordered. Slowly, he followed the man's orders. "Phone and glasses on the floor. Now."

"I'm gonna have to move my hands for that," Tony snarked. The man gave him a slight snarl.

"Just do it. Slowly. And throw them over here."

"Sure," he agreed, fishing his phone out of his pocket and taking his glasses off of his face before letting them clatter to the ground. The man kept the robotic gun trained on him as he grabbed the devices, placing them in a pocket in the thick of his jacket. Tony frowned. "So, what is this? A kidnapping? Taking my wallet? Genuinely interested."

"I've been watching you for a while, Stark," the man said, "You go out at night a lot. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before I could get what I want from you."

"And I would love to know what that is. As well as where you got that neat little arm-gun there. Is that Sokovian?"

"Shut up, Stark. I don't need your snark, just some information, and I'll take your wallet too."

"Mind leaving me enough cash for a coffee?"

The gun cocked. "What did I just say?"

"Hmm, I forgot."

"Very funny."

"Thanks, I thought so too," Tony joked. "Anyway, back on topic of what this is all about."

The gun whined and then quickly shot, whizzing past Tony to burn the wall just behind him. Tony turned his head to glance at the large ring of smoke before facing the man in the green jacket again.

"Shut up," he ordered again. "No more words from you unless they're the password into the DODC."

"There's more than just one password. You got a pen? This could take a while."

"No, you're coming with me."

"Oh, so this is a kidnapping."

"I can't have you changing the passwords and alerting anyone of this," the man answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but Tony could already count five thousand ways this could go wrong for Green Jacket Guy. One being that Tony wasn't up for being kidnapped at this moment in particular, and he definitely wasn't going to let this schmuck take him while he was just trying to get a decent coffee. "Keep your hands in the air and don't move, or else I'm hitting you with this."

When he gestured to the gun, Tony just gave him a bored look. "You know you're not getting any passwords or anything if you kill me, right?"

The man flicked a switch on the gun. "It's set to stun. It won't kill you, but it will definitely knock you out for a few hours."

"Good to know."

Green Jacket Guy approached, a pair of cuffs poised to slip around his outstretched hands. The man's steps were jauntily hesitant, but clear apprehension didn't stop the man from grabbing his hand and forcing the first cuff around him. He moved to click it around the billionaire's other wrist, but was met with a snapping punch to the face.

Green Jacket Guy stumbled back, a hand pressed against his newly bloody nose in a grunt of clear pain. Tony dove when the man quickly gathered himself and raised his gun, forcing himself behind a trash can as it whined and then fired. The trashcan forced itself against Tony, slapping the mechanic against the wall with a shouted groan, his shoulder barely breaking his fall. That was going to bruise in the morning.

Forced to his knees, Tony scrambled back up only to be faced with the robot-arm-gun pointed directly in his face. It charged up in its now annoyingly familiar warped whine, and there was nowhere to go. He was trapped and he was not excited to be blasted by this thing and if he got kidnapped again Happy was going to have a heart attack, he might as well--

"Hey! Watch where you're pointing that thing!" called a squeaky voice. Tony and Green Jacket Guy both turned as a red blur shot into the alleyway, a thwip! knocking the gun from the man's hand and the red blur knocking into him. The man was barreled to the ground with a pained groan before he was covered in a flurry of webs, the Spider Guy standing over him. "Pointing guns at people is illegal y'know! Sorry to be a party pooper, but I will be calling the police."

Tony blinked, forcing himself to his feet fully as the vigilante turned around, the lenses of his goofy goggles widening in comical shock.

"Oh, whoa."

---

"Oh, whoa," Peter breathed as he caught sight of literally Tony-freaking-Stark dusting off his pants as he stood up. His eyes instinctively fluttered to the man's shadow, expecting the long hair and slim figure of Pepper Potts but catching sight of a short and rumpled man instead. Huh.

"Whoa yourself, kid," Mr. Stark responded, stepping over to where the man was knocked out cold and webbed to the ground. He dug through the man's exposed green jacket and pulled out a pair of glasses and a sleek phone, but Peter's eyes were locked onto the strange gun on the ground. His eyes narrowed at how similar it looked to the ones at the bank. "What're you doing out here? You're a Queens guy aren't you?"

"Oh, uh, yes-yes, sir. Usually, but I was just, uhh, I was just around and I heard the fight and, and yeah..."

Mr. Stark turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion as he glanced over Peter's ratty superhero suit. He shuffled on his feet nervously, trying desperately to keep himself still and untense his shoulders, not that it had much affect. The teenager choked down agitation, trying his best to not glance at his watch. It was getting late and, while Iron Man was his second favorite Avenger, the last thing he needed was Tony Stark finding out his secret identity.

"What's your name?" Mr. Stark asked.

"Spider-Man."

"And your real name?"

Peter paused. "Spider-Man. On my birth certificate and everything."

Mr. Stark frowned, and Peter thought he was going to demand a legitimate answer, when he shrugged and stepped away from the guy on the ground. "Fine. You helped me out, I won't bother you about it. For now."

Peter let out a low sigh, muttering, "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"I am going to bother you about other things though," Mr. Stark said, "I've been meaning to talk to you, and no time like the present."

"Oh, uhh, I kinda have to--"

Peter was interrupted by the painful rumble of his stomach. His face turned as red as his mask, and he was thankful the man couldn't see his embarrassment, not that that stopped the superhero's teasing smirk. With a wave, the man stepped out of the alleyway. "C'mon, let's go."

"Go--go where?"

"Coffee. I came to get a good black coffee and I refuse to leave without one."

Peter glanced down at the guy he'd webbed. "What about him?"

"My AI already called the police. They'll be here soon. Now, c'mon. I'm not gonna ask you twice."

"Yeah, yeah. Ah, okay, Mr. Stark."

---

Peter shuffled his feet nervously, his arms crossed and constantly turning so that he could peer at the time on his watch. Twenty minutes. Not looking great, but it wasn't like Peter could really leave while Mr. Stark ordered his coffee. That would be rude, and plus it was Iron Man, so, overall a bad idea.

He glanced over from where he was leaning against the brick wall of the coffee shop to stare at the clear door. Like a final answer to his prayers, the billionaire stepped out, a drink carrier in one hand and a small brown bag in the other. The man didn't look exactly like he'd thought he would. Tony Stark had always been almost hilariously imposing in his mind, with a sharp suit and a sharper goatee, but this man was softer. Rougher.

His clothes were stained, his leather jacket rumpled, his hair messy and his face worn with the lines of memories. He seemed almost familiar somehow, and it unnerved Peter just as much as it comforted him.

"Here ya go, kid. Black coffee for me, hot chocolate and a snickerdoodle for you," Mr. Stark said once he'd walked over. Peter blinked in surprise, but managed to accept the drink and the bag with stumbling fingers.

"Oh, wow. Thank you, Mr. Stark, but you really didn't have to."

"Billionaire here, Spider-Kid. I can afford a cookie and a drink."

Peter thanked him again and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled his mask up to just above his nose, starting on the cookie. It was almost impossible to not fork it down immediately with how starved he felt. Mr. Stark waited patiently until he was finished with his snickerdoodle to start speaking, and Peter's ears burned.

"So," Mr. Stark started, "New York's benevolent vigilante that directs tourists and saves kittens from trees. Doesn't seem like a very exciting gig."

Peter narrowed his eyes, shuffling on his feet again nervously. What was his game?

He shrugged, taking a sip of his hot chocolate before answering, "It doesn't have to be exciting. I'm just trying to help out."

"Why?"

"Why--why help?"

"Exactly," Mr. Stark pointed, and suddenly he wasn't strangely familiar, he filled up the whole street. "Very few people help just to help, and even fewer dress themselves up in something that embarrassing just to help a few old ladies across the street. Why are you doing this? I gotta know. What's your MO? What gets you out of your apartment and into that onesie in the morning?"

"It's not a onesie," he muttered. Peter forced his fingers not to grip around the cup as images of a bloody street and dying shadows filled his head, instead redirecting the agitation into the scrunch of his face. He imagined he had his usual and embarrassing puppy scowl right now. He tried to release it with a sigh, but he didn't feel much better as he answered. "Because...because I've been me my whole life, and I've had these powers six months..."

Mr. Stark hummed in confirmation, goading Peter on. He swallowed down sick at the image of his aunt's brown hair drenched in blood before he continued. "I...I tried to move on at first. Just, hey! I have powers and I'm just gonna ignore it and showboat it. But...when you can do the things that I can, but you don't...and then the bad things happen..." He took a deep breath as Mr. Stark leaned in closer. "They happen because of you."

"So you wanna look out for the little guy? You wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?"

Peter nodded fervently. "Yeah, yeah just looking out for the little guy. That's--that's what it is."

Mr. Stark nodded, his eyes glanced Peter up and down quickly before he asked softly, "And what about looking out for you?"

Peter startled, glaring at the man defensively. Did he just look like shit that much?

"What are you talking about? I'm doing fine."

"You reek of someone who hasn't been taking care of themselves, kid."

"I'm not a kid," he muttered, "And I'm fine."

"Yeah? Your arm's shaking."

Peter glanced down to see that, yes, his arm clutched around the hot chocolate was indeed shaking. Peter switched the drink to his other hand before shoving his arm in the pocket of his hoodie. "Just tired."

"It's barely ten."

"And I've been patrolling for--did you say ten?"

Mr. Stark seemed perturbed by his sudden shift, but Peter couldn't be bothered at the way his voice had lowered and shaken with slight fear or the way his entire self had tensed. Peter tore his hand out of his pocket to glare at the watch on his wrist. 9:57. Shit.

"Shit--fuck!" Peter exclaimed, pulling his mask back down. "Oh, shit. Sorry, Mr. Stark, I gotta go. Thank you so much for the hot chocolate, sir!"

"Kid, wait--"

He flicked out a wrist onto a nearby building, bending to leap when Mr. Stark's hand wrapped around his wrist.

Peter blinked at the odd sensation, holding back a flinch at the unexpected touch and tensing as his vision seemed to leap just a foot to the left before fizzing back to what it had been before. It left him dizzy and disoriented, but he only had a minute to get all the way from Manhattan to Queens. Maybe if he made it home within ten minutes he could get away with it or--

"Oh, my God..."

Peter turned at Mr. Stark's voice, realizing the man's hand was still gripping his wrist. He followed the billionaire's horribly stricken gaze to stare at whatever had left him dumb. Peter's jaw dropped as he caught sight of his shadow. It was his shadow.

The fluffy hair of his soulmate was suddenly gone and, instead, Peter's masked silhouette stood in its place. He glanced down at Mr. Stark's shadow, actions slow and jerky as he caught sight of it perfectly reflecting his own perked up jacket collar and outline of glasses. Carefully, Mr. Stark let go of his hand in a motion that felt like he was testing the waters. The shadows switched. The hooded figure shadowed Mr. Stark while the fluffy hair stood where Peter's shadow once had.

"What the..." Peter trailed off. His breaths felt lighter all the sudden. Fast. Too fast. The street was closing in, the cars passing nearby too loud and too bright and oh God his soulmate was Tony Stark. He swallowed painfully, tears biting at his eyes as he struggled for a breath.

His soulmate wasn't supposed to be Tony Stark. Peter couldn't--Peter couldn't live up to that! Mr. Stark had saved the world and he was an Avenger and he was the smartest man in the world and Peter was just some useless kid who got bullied and had a curfew and Jesus Christ he was going to be so late Mr. Fowler was going to be so mad and--

"Kid?" Mr. Stark asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Peter flinched and ducked away, the cup he'd been holding clattering from his hands as he stood opposite the man. Defensive. A shadow flashed against the man's face.

Peter read it as disappointment.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. He shot a web and leaped away, but he could never escape his shadow.

Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

#friendly neighborhood exchange #peter parker #tony stark #spiderman #Iron Man #ironman fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #not st*rker

93 notes · View notes

sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

33. Cruise to alberobello

Prompt used - tasting the others smile | this is Definitely not how I expected to write it or how I thought it would've turned out, but I do hope you like it or it'd be a waste | immensely inspired by call me by your name | today's post I'd like to dedicate to @littlebodybigheartttt for putting a smile on my face |

Harry recites a story to the wizard travellers in hopes to impress the boy behind the bar

Fanart taken down because of confidentiality.

Fanart credit - @upthehillart

" I've got one " harry raised his forefinger to grab the attention of the fellow mates on the table

" so a few years ago, I had just started my auror training, probably like 2 months in, I got a call from my boss saying harry I need you in my office right now, I've got a job for you. And that 18 year old me so excited to get a job much before than any of my pals, I ran to the office as soon as possible and when I reached my boss guess what he said, harry I need you to go and fetch me these specific files from so and so person. I was shook for a moment that he called me all the way just to fetch some files from other country which possibly anyone could've done for him but I agreed to go nonetheless. The intercountry apparation was banned for a time there so I flew there. I was transported to a small town on South italy, I thought typical place, typical people but when I reached there, the place was goddamn symmetrical, yes not tall and High or pretty place, symmetrical. Everything so conical and guess what I found out, in a population of 11,000 only a 100 wizards and witches " harry paused to take a sip from his champagne glass, a couple of other people joining along over the table to listen to his intriguing story.

" and then blah blah, got boring fetching those files and such so I hit a bar. A muggle bar as I believe. There I was drinking my beer like quite a gentlemen and then there comes a girl, sat down beside me without asking and take my beer and I look at her like excuse me, miss but I think you've taken my drink, but she just shrugs and drink further so I ordered another for me. And then she goes, you see that couple over sitting by the door, I can bet that they are happily married and will definitely divorce the next year. I ask her how do you know and she goes I just know and then the next thing I know a bartender goes to them and says honeymoon special. I was shook but said it's just a simple coincidence but then she tells about 5 more people and only one of them she got wrong. I kept on saying maybe it's a coincidence, or Maybe she knew but then she proved me she didn't. And then we got to talking like I had never talked to anyone. You know the kind of energy where you just hit it off with someone, she was that person, Only she was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes upon, like a Sin city just walking like every normal person but she had no idea how beautiful she was, like a beautiful summer day " and harry stopped eager to see some reaction

" then what ?"

" then we talked. I thought she was all just Beauty but I had never met anyone like her. She talked of things only one could've thought of. So we were talking on the matter of love and she goes it's all complicated and then I ask her to elaborate. So she does, she says the complication in love lies only in its complexity, and then she goes like we often mistake love to be like a summer breeze that is there one day that takes you away and you enjoy it while it lasts but love, actually is like a dagger, it can pierce right through you, leave you bleeding if you get too close but if the dagger points them, you let yourself them fall over it, you stab them just like you do when it points you. So I ask her what does she think of soulmates or the marriage that lasts forever and she smiles at me and went soulmate is a consolation for a weak hearted that there exists love for you which would be devoid of your insecurities. And I frown, I said that what if it's a perfect relationship, and then she says, there can never be a perfect relationship because if it exists, then the love isn't real and I get confused " harry notices the table filling in more, the bartender giving him a small smile, happy for his victory.

" and she says, my love, love is not a summer breeze, love is like a pandora box fill with paradoxical substances. It's a cold breeze that leads you to the Amazon forest, wide and unforeseen opportunities and problems available, but as you go deeper in the forest you realise for every problem there exist a solution. It's like falling on the dagger and bleeding but you should be intoxicated with the love of the dagger, so you will never die. I was amazed, she said so much reality in those few words. Then I ask her so what about people who say love is magical ? And she goes, doesn't magic exist, but if I were I to say, they find themselves ethereal when they fell over that dagger, the dagger in there you see is poisoned just like every other, yet a few realises and few doesn't and the one who doesn't says love is magical. Then out of curiosity I ask her when the clock hit exactly 12, do you believe in love ? She smiles at me very elegantly, the one she hadn't pull off the entire night, and she says I my friend, am the said dagger "

" seems as if we're there aren't we ?" Someone Whispered across the table.

Harry looked at them, gave them a small smile impressively and begin again " I ask her one last question, do you believe in soulmate ? And she shook her head and got off the stool and kisses her beau. I was rendered speechless, and then she says so long my friend and starts exiting the bar, I felt to myself that if I didn't follow her, I'd be damned, so I followed, Just a few steps away and then call out to her, she turns around and I ask her name and she replies with, my name is what there is in one, but only who fail to love doesn't have and then she says, this is Alex by the way, my soulmate. I turn to my side thinking of what possibly her name could've been and then when I raise my head, she has gone. Not like walked away gone, she had disappeared, with her beau and I stood there yet amazed. And then the next day I go to the bar again and ask about the girl to that bartender I was talking to and he goes, sir I do not know who was with you, all know is you came alone and went home alone. I didn't linger on much, and I called this the cruise to alberobello " and harry stops suddenly finishing off the rest of his champagne. He raises his eyes to meet the boy behind the bar, smiling wickedly at him.

" wha- what happened then ? Did you ever get to know her name ? Was any of it even real?" Someone asks in morbid curiosity.

"I always assumed her name to be Alma, meaning soul, with no other meaning and to this day the cruise to alberobello remains one of my most mysterious epiphanies " Harry chuckled. Groaning everyone dropped the story, intrigued by the story themselves.

It was half past 12 when the bar started emptying out, reaching its closing time and harry made himself comfortable over the bar stool.

" quite a story tonight " the boy with freckled eyes says wiping off the glasses with a dry cloth.

" I did. Travellers always seeks stories as such. Something they've never heard before, and leave them wondering " Harry chuckled finishing off his drink and pushing off the cup towards the boy..

" i must admit, I myself am very intrigued by the story" the boy smiles at harry. Harry looks at him warily smiling, he felt proud.

" I get off in 10 minutes, walk with me ?" He asked as he started taking of his apron

" I wouldn't do anything otherwise " Harry replied and exited the front door, the open sign changing to closed by a wand less magic and harry follows to the back door, waiting for Draco like he always does.

Exactly 10 minutes later, draco exits wearing a light Denim jacket over his black shirt and pants.

" shall we ?" He asked as he pushed his hands down his pocket.

They walk home talking about Harry's story, how it seemed almost unreal, however, they both Would've been doomed fools to not admit that the night had an enigmatic aura to it.

Just as they reached Draco's door, he pushes his hands in his pockets tip toeing waiting for Draco to safely reach inside.

" well that's me then " Draco said as he turned around after opening the door.

" I'll see you later then " Harry awkwardly replied.

" okay " Draco smiled

" okay "

Harry smiled and started tumbling back his home until he turned just in time to tell Draco one last thing.

" hey, Draco "

" yeah ?"

" you know my cruise to alberobello ?"

" yeah ? What about it ? "

Harry smiled biting his lip

" you are my cruise to alberobello "

And with that Harry vanished in thin air, letting the curiosity killing Draco's cat. Everything Harry had said, Draco used to put it down on little notes and keep it away in a box , a small gesture Remind Draco of Harry if he were to ever be gone but this left him shook. The truth about his cruise to alberobello, was that if the epiphany was even real or not, Harry didn't answer that. The mystery of the story lied within the fact how anyone could've ever remembered something from ages ago, it seemed unreal but harry was a man of many words, anything but a man who would forget. And this Draco knew because of his simple rememberance of bringing him a dairy free product when draco had told him very discreetly that he was lactose intolerant.

Draco tired to sleep it away but the restlessness buried in every nerve of him that forced him to stay awake until he couldn't bear anymore and disapparted to Harry's place.

" Draco, what are you doing here ? It's almost 2 " Harry frowned as he allowed Draco to walk into his own little Land of wonder he called home.

" you asked me on the way back if I believed your story to be real ? Here's what I think, the cruise to alberobello is infact an envisage of an interaction you assumed you had with the girl named Alma who sat next to you on the bar stool with her beau Alex, who you irrevocably found to be like dagger who would pierce you open if you fell for her but you couldn't bring yourself to even try to talk to her, so you imagined all of it. But when you met me, that girl named Alma became me, and I became your cruise you'd want to go on with but are too Afraid of admitting. Correct me if I'm wrong " Draco explained in a breath still standing in the hallway.

Harry frowns before he crossed his arms and smiled " I'm impressed "

" tell me if I'm wrong ?"

" what if you are ?"

" then you would lie because you only said what you said because you knew I'd be the only one who would understand the story "

Harry remained in shock, frowning" I'm thoroughly shook how beautifully right you are "

Draco huffs out air in relief " well harry James potter, then I am asking you to be my cruise to alberobello ? Will you be ?"

" Tomorrow night, 8 pm, Alberta palace ?"

" I'll be there " Draco replied.

" good night then Draco " Harry chuckled.

" Good night" Draco replied and was only About to disapparate when Harry interjected

" one last thing" and with that Harry kissed Draco's lip. There must've been something weird in the air because they both broke out laughing while kissing each other.

" took you this long ?" Draco smiled, his lips still pressed against Harry's and his arms wrapped around his torso.

" I was waiting for you to be impressed with at least one of my stories. I'm not just Beauty you know " Harry mumbled

" well you finally succeeded " and with that Harry softly traced Draco's lips with his own. It must've been so ethereal to be in the moment that draco couldn't stop smiling, and harry was drunk on Draco, and in Prosperity couldn't stop tasting Draco's smile, it could've been kissing but it felt otherwise, Harry was happy anyway.

And next night onwards,he didn't need more stories to attract the boy behind the bar.

This might be considered as a very late submission for @drarrymicrofic " cruise "

Requests open | Master list to all prompts now available

Day 32- reasons to not love Draco malfoy by Harry potter PT.1+PT.2 | Day 34- bath with me

43 notes · View notes

be-al2-o4 · 4 years

Text

It's not October but consider.

Haunted Mandalorian Armor.

Not, "oh no I put on this armor and now I'm possessed!" Get out of here with your Sith nonsense.

Actual moving armor containing the conciousness (or what's left of it) of those proven to be dar'manda.

The monsters, demagolka, those with no honor or code.

This isn't showing your face and putting up your guns

These are actual horror stories.

"Why don't we go explore the ruins in the desert from the civil wars? There's bound to be so much history and culture there!"

"Did your Buir never tell you not to go there? Never tell you the stories of the Beskar'gam Shaadla ti Dar'manda? The Armor Moving with No Soul?"

Monstrous acts committed for the sake of change to please the old God, Kar Ha'ragnir. Slaughtering entire cities solely for conquest. And worse abandoning their God's teachings of change and growth for the false promises of Arasuum. Stagnating in their ways, until all they knew was hunting and death.

But not their own death. Even after their bodies gave out and their hearts stopped, Arasuum would not let them go. Would not let them change or pass on. They are trapped in their armor, and trapped in the places they haunt. They cannot change. They cannot be killed.

But they can kill.

We do not go into the old ruins on Mandalore.

Soldiers, mandalorians, warriors, who follow the Resol'nare but when death greets them and beckons them to join manda, the over soul, they turn away.

It could be cowardice, to run away from their final fate.

It could be duty, refusing to allow another to carry the burden.

It could be despair, just a little more time, just to save one more, "I dont have time for manda my brothers are suffering"

And they get back up.

Their armor comes off occasionally at first.

But they died. There is no coming back from that.

Their body starts to rot.

So they put on the armor. And never take it off.

They haunt battlefields. Present and past.

Walking through ruins, remembering the blast that killed their riduur. The shrapnel that doomed them. Saying the names of every person they knew that died there.

A sudden ally or enemy on the battlefield.

No one knows where this Mandalorian comes from, or why they're fighting. Why they shrug off every fatal hit.

No one can find them after the battle.

"We have to find them! They could be dying!"

"If that's what I think it was, it's probably already dead. Best not to draw anymore of its attention."

But also

clone troopers getting back up

Not all of them. Some are ready to go.

Some never thought of what it means to be Mando'ade

For some it's not a choice at all, leaping away from their servitude knowing they'll see their brothers when its time.

But some get back up.

They keep 'surviving'

Until they don't.

Their body deteriorating under their blacks

Their brothers notice the odd behavior they start exhibiting but mostly it's written off as trauma.

They notice a smell.

Until one day they disappear.

On the battlefield as a casualty.

Or AWOL

But with the close quarters and the medical checks they can't hide the fact that they're decomposing.

But when their brothers are fighting, there may be an extra shiny or two in the battle.

They can never be found afterwards so its assumed they died.

When the lists are checked and units accounted for, well battles are messy and not all bodies can be recovered for identification or burial.

Anyone who notices the discrepancy doesn't mention it. Another Vod to watch your back is good news in a fight.

Until someone brings up security breaches. Possible Spies pretending to be Vod.

And one of the commanders in the meeting starts to shake and tells them of one his troopers. He saw Jammer, CT-4358, shot straight through the neck. Saw him fall and bleed out. And then 20 minutes later get up and keep fighting.

Jammer appeared fine. But he never reported to medical.

Jammer started pulling away from his batch mates. Displaying signs of suspicion and paranoia.

Jammer no longer touched or allowed others to touch him and wore full armor everywhere.

One day he pulled Jammer aside and Jammer's shoulder collapsed.

When Jammer tried to run he grabbed his hand.

It came off.

Jammer told him what happened.

He was going. Leaving. Heading someplace better. But he couldn't leave his batch mates behind as fodder for the Republic's war.

5 hours later CT-4358 was reported dead via a malfunctioning weapons unit.

But Jammer is still helping his batch mates, still fighting.

But he no longer belongs to the Republic.

However

They can fixate on things. They have nothing else. They take up causes.

Justice.

Vengeance.

The return of Mandalorian people.

They never remove their armor.

They find others with similar goals.

They never take off their armor.

To remove your helmet is to be with out soul.

The helmet is your face (their face rotted off a long time ago, the helmet is all they have)

Children are the future of Mandalore.

No living being can see your face.

They could create a clan almost entirely of foundlings.

And teach them it's normal to never take off their armor.

Follow the Resol'nare.

Never remove your helmet.

It is the way.

*edited for typos. Let me know if you see more.

#tw body horror #Star Wars #mandalorian culture #long post #head canons #the mandalorian #haunted armor

781 notes · View notes

princekoo · 3 years

Text

goodnight n go | one | pjm.

pairing. single dad! jimin x female teacher! reader

synopsis. jimin was a single dad of three and one unfortunate mishap caused him to meet you: his best friend’s coworker and daughter’s teacher. will feelings of petty loathing develop into something more?

genre/prompt. fluff, angst

word count. 4.3k

content. jimin is a pole dancer and has 3 kids as well as is 9 years older than oc. even if they’re both well over legal age, if that makes you uncomfortable, please consider not reading. thank you <3

writer’s note. I deleted it originally because I was unhappy with it as I wrote it when I was younger and didn’t have much experience in writing and my approach to it wasn’t as elaborate as the one I managed to develop all these months of practicing. so! here she is! she’s longer and has less parts so you won’t be annoyed with the constant changing haha. an important thing to note is that the oldest son’s name Songyoon was changed to Haneul, the little girl’s name Sooyeon was changed to Eunbyul, and the youngest’s name Sanghoon was changed to Hayun as their names were too similar and made it difficult to remember who was who. There was also many major plot changes as well as small ones, so it’s somewhat completely different to the earlier version. Anyways! Enjoy :)

parts. one / two

The window curtains glittered under the moonlight’s loving, motherly kiss, this gentle caress closely similar to the unnaturally blond man’s embrace of a little girl–his precious little girl– in his arms. She was quite positively almost a copy of himself, down to his natural jet-black hair and plump, pink lips. The expensive curtains—most notably one of the most expensive things in the vicinity as what his little one wants his little one gets— danced with the wind let in by the open window softly, bringing the loud car horns and yelling of bustling city life with it. They’d been rendered to a simple ambient hum, considering how high up in the building they lived, however. The glitter scattered all throughout its length caused it to look like various constellations spread gracefully, causing his little one to refuse any other option that wasn’t it, unfortunately for his bank account. The neon lights of signs outside their New York City apartment, which would otherwise be annoying, entered only carefully tonight, as if to not disturb the gentle moment between the father and daughter.

“And so, the little princess was elated! The dragon had taken her to his cave filled with shiny little things all around, away from the princess life she hated.”

The raven-haired girl’s little eyes had shined in anticipation; the blonde man often mused it seemed like the night sky was trapped in her gaze since her birth, hence her name. She practically shook from excitement, her little brain unable wrap itself around how the princess pulled it all off so effortlessly! She didn’t know what to do with herself, so she clung to her dad’s silk night shirt as tight as her little fists would let her (which kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to stop her, he loved her too much to repress her). She liked to think of herself as close to that of a big, scary typhoon. He begged to differ with the more accurate description of the whirlpool one makes when circling their fingers in water repeatedly.

“The dragon taught her all she came to know! He taught her to read and write. Taught her to do basic things and they lived happily for just a few months. Then, the guards in the palace found her and came to get her! Do you know what they assumed, my beautiful little star?” Jimin had started looking at her fondly, the term of endearment coming out in their native tongue of Korean, accent prominently and endearingly laced in his English, soothing into every word he spoke. The nickname made her chest fill with warmth and her cheeks puff in reluctant happiness. No matter how many times her dear daddy would say it, it was her very own little term of endearment. Just for her and no one else. She loved it.

“That he was a big scary mean dragon! Right, daddy?!”

Jimin beamed at her intelligence. Then again, he does read her this story whenever she asks—and that’s nearly every weekend. He tickled her and held her tightly in his arms, her soft giggles reaching his ears just as the melodies he would dance to as a young boy would. Although he could still fit her in his arms, she was getting big. Give it two more years and he couldn’t do this anymore with her, hold her without difficulty and discomfort. The thought of such a cruel future made his heart sink a little. He had to stop himself often from thinking about how she would act when she became a teenager, it would be too much for his fragile heart to handle.

Jimin had always chastised her, as he was the only parent she had left. He took care of her and taught her valuable life lessons, sang her to sleep, and learned to make pretty hairstyles “just like a princess”, she’d say. He corrected her when needed as well as took on the role of both mother and father to her younger brother, Hayun (she preferred to call him Sunny after Jimin told her the meaning in English, which always made his heart melt), which was only a month old when their mother decided to pack her bags. Her older brother, although still a junior in high school, helped as much as he could to alleviate the toll that taking on both roles took on Jimin.

He was a great father, as one wouldn’t really expect. He was the right mixture of incredibly compassionate, well-humored, and empathetic with a dash of sternness to go along with it. He wasn’t a tyrant ruler, he listened to all three–well two, Hayun hasn’t even been able to string together a coherent longer-than-3-words sentence, only simple sentences, as a toddler does– and implemented all change that was agreed on by the majority. He always tried to pay equal attention to all of them, although most of it went to her younger brother. She didn’t mind though, she enjoyed playing with her older brother, Haneul. Jimin always packed him lunch, even as he whined that he didn’t have to do that, but he always enjoyed when he did it. She knew, noticing he always left to school with a small smile on his lips after.

Jimin has to assume complete responsibility once their… “mother” … turned up one day and decided she wanted nothing to do with her kids anymore. After taking her routine every night visit to the bar, she found someone older. Wealthier. “Much more fun” and “like you used to be before they showed up” she also gracefully added. Not like it was his fault he’d grown up once his first child was born, unlike her. Always looking for convenient fun, never tied down to anything. Proposing to her would just be in vain since it’s not like she would’ve accepted marriage anyway. Even during high school, when she first had come to him announcing her pregnancy, he knew how little care she held for him. She always thought of him as harmless fun, a man on the side and he couldn’t say the same of himself. The first child was purely an accident, the other two was him desperately trying to convince himself it could all work out and she could change. After their third, he knew how wrong he was. He held feelings for her at one point, although, with time, it all disappeared. He could only hold feelings of loathing towards her at that point. She thought of the kids as nuances. She got sick of it. Sick of him. Sick of having just one person to kiss. She couldn’t be tied down, but just because he knew that, it didn’t mean it hurt any less. She’d left once Hayun was born, but Eunbyul didn’t know why. She always thought she didn’t love them anymore after seeing her mom with a man that looked uglier than her daddy for sure, but she seemed happy. Her mom said something to her before she’d left, looked at her weird, and screamed at her dad some more, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Often, she’d ponder when her mommy was coming back. Well, not like she could, anyway. They did move across the globe after, from Busan to New York, with no way to contact them. She didn’t mind not having a mommy for now, though, it’s not like she was ever home before anyway. It was always comfortable with daddy.

“Daddy! Please continue the story! Why’d you stop?! Pleeeeeeease…!” She pouted and looked up at him with those puppy eyes children knew to use when they wanted something to make their parents cave in fast in response to his hesitance to continue the story, her fake tiara skewing just a little to the side. One day, he’ll buy her a new one. One with diamonds and various other gems. His features seemed to light up and playfully mirror her own, his nose scrunching up as well. She, of course, as a sensitive, princess-y 4-almost-5-year-old, did not know how to differentiate someone being mean between someone playing, so she smacked him on the shoulder as hard as she could in her blind anger. Jimin yelped at the contact and sobered up, expression turning stern. Had she messed up? Did she do something wrong? Daddy’s face did the same face he always did when he was mad at her for doing something wrong. Eyes sharp. Lips in a straight line. Eyebrows drawn together.

“Eunbyul, you can’t hit anyone ever, you hear me? Especially me...” His voice was stern, but less confident as he trailed off. One look in her eyes and one could easily tell she was on the verge of tears. Why had the atmosphere changed so much? Why did the breeze still? Why was it so hot all of a sudden, but just on her face? Her tears were almost spilling out of her doe eyes, so his expression softened and panic flashed through his face. He had too soft a spot for her.

“...Not without expecting payback!” He announced out as a save and initiated a tickle attack by removing his arms supporting her back and wiggling them on her sides, causing a sea of reluctant giggles and laughter to erupt from her lips, tears of sadness now turned into ones of happiness. A wave of relief passed through her consciousness. He wasn’t mad at her anymore!

After he stopped tickling and her giggles piped down, he took her in his arms again and minimally rocked her back and forth again, attempting to continue the story. She gazed into his eyes. There, were two crescent moons filled with stars picked carefully right from the universe. They held warm nights of him wrapped in a blanket and always holding her in his arms while rocking her back and forth, looking back at her like she was his most valuable treasure. Nights of drinking lukewarm chocolate and sharing it with her while telling her countless stories he remembered or made up, her brother’s occasional snorting making her giggle. Those crescent pools of love staring right back at her with so much fondness, she couldn’t not trust him. He loved what he created with every inch of his being, even if she resembled her mother somewhat. She never felt so safe in any other person’s hold, even in Haneul’s. She felt safe and happy, sure, but not to the extent of her dad’s.

Pouting and closing his eyes as well as lifting his head up high in mocked snub, he opened one of his closed eyes.

“Well, if you’re done being rude, I’d like to finish this story for this week.”

A beat of silence went by as she looked at him with slight shame and tucked her head against his armpit. He sighed, breathily chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“You were right, princess. They did think he was a big, mean, and scary dragon that took the pretty little princess as his own treasure! The princess came back from getting berries just before the guards decided to kill the dragon!”

A gasp. A smile.

“She explained what happened and the guards decided to keep to themselves that they had seen the princess. The dragon and the princess lived what, my little star?”

“Happily ever after, right, daddy?!” She looked at her dad excitedly, completely engrossed in the story despite it being probably the hundredth time he told it to her since her birth.

A pause.

“That’s right, my love. The end…”

Although little Eunbyul understood simple Korean, she could barely speak it. Jimin planned on teaching her a little more down the line. Now, she barely understood some of the words, any longer than two syllables being too dang hard for her little brain to grasp at this late hour, right before her bedtime, but she didn’t care at this time. Not when his soothing voice graced her ears with the background noise only that of the far away beep of cars, the rhythmic rumbling in his chest every time he’s uttered a word soothing her to sleep. As she laid there in his arms, fast asleep, little snores leaving her nose, all that was in his mind was how he could never bear losing her.

He felt absolutely heartbroken and stressed, raising three kids on his own was unbearably hard. He loved them so much he had to look for a job in this new country. A job that paid well but let him work while the kids were asleep so he could care for them while they were awake.

He also made friends with his co-workers and shift manager, so it wasn’t too bad re-adjusting. They barely hired new employees since they had a very high criteria, so he barely had to deal with new hires that made his job harder. His kids are growing up, though. He knew that. He feared they would leave like their mother did almost two years ago, so he’d decided to enjoy them and raise them as well as he could while it lasted. He was scared they’d decide they were sick of him just like she did. Irrational since his kids shared a strong bond with him and each other, but valid.

Jimin got up, arms still wrapped around her, she was growing and he could no longer able to hold her like how he used to. He moved the covers to make place for her and gently laid her down, taking her plastic tiara off her head. Covering her and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears dangerously threatened to spill. The moonlight hit his face, making his eyes’ shine intensify into thousand galaxies in his beautiful, soft chocolate eyes as he got up to turn off her mermaid lamp.

“Sleep tight my little universe,” he chokingly whispered as tears freely fell from his eyes.

An abrupt sound made way to his ears and he turned around, finding his sixteen-year-old son holding Sunghoon. Jimin vigorously wiped his tears and gave Haneul a weak and quivering smile. The boy moved to put down the toddler he was holding in his crib and turned on the mobile, then mouthed to his father if he was okay, used to him being bubbly and strong for them, though it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry. He took the role of confidant, listening to his father whenever he let himself be anything less than closed. He always looked so small, like a little boy. It always scared him. This wasn’t his big and amazing role model of a dad, was it? The one he bragged about to all his friends and anyone who would listen? Would he become like that, too? Out of the three kids, he was the one who remembered his mother the clearest, having been fourteen. He despised her, to put it nicely. He was the one that got to see to the extent that that woman caused their father to feel anguish, he got to know what not being loved by his mother was like.

Nodding, he ushered his oldest son out the room, more unrestrained tears rolled down his tear-stained cheeks. No matter how vigorously he wiped at them, they’d come back anyway, so maybe he should give up on wiping his tears just as he’d given up on trying to make his relationship work. It didn’t help that Haneul was the spitting image of his mother, either. Haneul wanted to press on, to question him and help him, but he decided to leave it. Glancing at both of his younger siblings sleeping, he decided maybe some things were better left unsaid. He slowly made his way to the door and once he reached it, pat his dad in the back and continued to his room. As Jimin tried to control his upcoming violent sobs, he shut the door behind him.

He couldn’t do this alone anymore. It was too much. He needed someone there.

The cool autumn wind blew against Jimin’s cheek as he shook his hair to clear his fringe from his eyes. He brought his dainty hands into his jacket pockets as he puffed out air. While his breath may not have been visible, it sure as hell felt like it could be.

It was cold as fuck, to put it simply. Having a car would be absolutely beautiful right now, but circumstances really don’t line up with his wishes on the regular. He always kept forgetting to look into which car he would like best and to go purchase it, but the subways facilitated his route home and to work somewhat. His life would improve tenfold once he remembers to buy a car. He was very forgetful since there’s only so much he can keep up with, his brain take up with his three kids and problems. He could do that in the three days he had left, he guesses. Maybe tomorrow if he sets a reminder, even, would he be able to get a car. Before he left, he had saved up money for a living space able to hold all 4 of them and a mode of transportation. He could get rid of his subway card and buy a car or something, anything but dealing with the surplus of rats and drunkards at the time he used it. His credit wasn’t bad either, which could probably lower his purchase a little. His oldest used the same transportation he did, but he just wanted to drive his kids to school in the mornings and drop them off. Even more so, Eunbyul was starting school in just a few days, so he couldn’t afford to just walk her to school as it was half an hour away from their apartment building or even use public transport. It just didn’t feel right to him. All those cute hairstyles he planned on doing on her would be ruined by the time they got there.

Jimin kept pacing along the sidewalk towards the apartment complex where his kids are expected to be sleeping. Expected. It was 1:05 A.M., after all. A father can only hope his children listened well to him. He could probably assume Haneul was studying or something and the other two were knocked out, children being unable to be awake for very long.

He sighed as he scratched his itching nose and gazed around the well-near-empty streets, save the occasional drunk or workers of the same hours as himself.

Work was everything but slow, as always. Obviously, as an exotic dancer, he should’ve expected that. He really thought he’d made it clear to the manager that he had to be home early to put his kids to bed and give Eunbyul her first out of five pep talks before she starts kindergarten for the first time ever in a week, but maybe he didn’t remember. He’ll put his money on that, Seokjin was always preoccupied with everything in the club and the additional two other locations. Being a considerate manager and good owner is hard work, after all. His forgetfulness caused Jimin to be overbooked and end his shift two hours later than he’d requested. At least he was getting paid very well for that, anyway, so he had next to no complaints.

Checking his phone, he saw 5 collective texts from his friends, Yoongi and Taehyung. These were two childhood best friends of his, every summer when he would visit his grandma in Seoul he would hang out with them. They were both neighbors from Daegu and would go to Seoul for the summer for the same reason Jimin did which caused his grandmother to meet them. A chance encounter leading to a life-long friendship. Taehyung, however, moved away to become an art major at NYU and Yoongi had followed behind, falling victim to Taehyung’s prettily warpped descriptions of the city. He was a kindergarten teacher and assumed the same role in the states and Taehyung became a critically acclaimed, wildly successful painter. Taehyung actually had children of his own in his time in New York and his twins were the same age as Eunbyul. He, however, was married to their mother, and happily too. For that, he always felt jealousy, despite not wanting to.

Tapping the notification to see all the texts displayed, he saw Yoongi whining about the fact that the first day of school is way too close for comfort and Taehyung’s smiley face reply to Jimin’s own “i’m going home now, if i don’t text you that i’m home within 20 minutes, use find my friends to go after me”. Nothing out of the ordinary. He lived in a crime-filled part of town. He was saving up to be able to buy either a nice enough house close to the school or an apartment of the same caliber in cash. Mortgages seemed messy to him, in all and he was frankly scared to do it.

Now, Yoongi’s whining is normal, but now it has increased tenfold as the news of him getting an assistant teacher was broken to him. Yoongi felt as though the school was insulting his ability to teach by putting another adult in the classroom (they’d assured that he needed an extra hand in the classroom as there were more kids than before in his class–he called bullshit though), but nonetheless, all Jimin could hope for is that he doesn’t “accidentally” show up to class with vodka in a water bottle again. Not after what happened last time.

Locking his phone and walking faster, his longing for the warmth of what he liked to call his “luxury” apartment shining through and suddenly beginning to be extremely prominent which resulted in a whine of I-have-to-walk-like-five-more-steps-to-get-inside-so-life-isn’t-fair escapes Jimin. He stared ahead, gaze landing on the once-silver gate. It was once beautiful, but since the new owners bought it, they paid no attention to outside view, or so he was told by the old lady next door, Janet. They knew everyone went there for the cheap prices anyway, she’d sigh. He really had to move into a house or something. He already had the money for a nice enough house or better apartment where all 4 of them could live happily though his job. Maybe he could look for a house only a few minutes away from the school. Mental note: look for house around school.

Quickly opening and speed walking to the elevator, he checked his phone once again. More drunk texts from the absolute best friend that he loves so very much in this very moment, Yoongi. He really did take his devastation seriously, as he shared a selfie with him and vodka with a text after saying “my news befrenddf!!!!!!!!”. Jimin let out a huff of amusement and disbelief. The man was almost in his late 30s and he still acted like he could be the age of his students.

The unlocking to the apartment was bittersweet. Suppressed memories always seemed to float into his conscious one by one when coming through the door, when silence and darkness met him. That house of cards-like mirage he’d fabricated all on his own tormented him because how could he be so stupid and naïve to believe two children would fix their doomed relationship. He was never happy, not after she barely showed up at home after giving birth. Not after she’d come home often with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex on her. She was the one who could never be a parent. The one that selfishly left when offered money and riches. The one who didn’t even think twice about accepting the offer. The one that left him for a richer man despite their various kids. The one he’d had to lie to his daughter about when asked of. The one that never thinks of her own kids and has started a new life with brand new kids and husband. The one that’s too late to fix things. The one he and his teenage son loathe with every fiber of their being.

He really had to move away to a nicer place. Sighing, he dragged his boot cladded feet along the living room towards his room to begin his night routine. His two jobs relied on his face and his body, so taking care of both was extremely important, mental stability somewhat important too. He kicked off his shoes and snaked out of his clothes, took his pj’s, and padded towards the bathroom. The most relaxing parts of the day for him were most simply when he saw his kids in the morning and taking a shower after being in a packed and hot night club, full of dried sweat which gave him a not-so-pleasant stench. Eunbyul just knew her daddy was a dancer; she didn’t need to know the explicit details. At least not until the age of thirteen, or maybe older (he hoped), when her very own older brother found out.

He scrubbed every inch of his body until his skin turned red because god, he could not stand the stench just rolling off him in waves. Now, he was fine. He was happy, scent of the bubblegum body wash Eunbyul insisted on buying filling his senses. He was finally home, and his daughter was turning a new chapter in her life. She was going to learn how to read and he would teach her the same things he’d taught her brother. How he loved that, the feeling of satisfaction reached after your child now knows something they didn’t before. He loves the way her eyes light up when she learns something. He loves it all, and he hopes it’ll last forever.

He remembered he should probably invest in a car and a house closer to the school, a 30-minute walk was no joke. He finally dragged his fatigued fingers to set the reminder.

#btsghostie #jimin x reader #pjm #jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin angst #dad jimin #single father jimin

81 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 3 years

Text

Old Ways, New Age Chapter 1

Summary: The Guardian order has been suddenly restored, nearly two centuries after their disappearance from the world. They emerge into the future and immediately set out to discover what has happened to the miraculous in their absence.

The last thing they expected to find was someone like Ladybug.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Hello and welcome to my entry for @marinettemarch, which marks the first of the six prompt months that I will be doing. I’ll be posting a new chapter each week!

I hope you enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Ladybug was swinging across the city, making her way to tonight’s meet up spot for patrol with Chat Noir. Her arms moved of their own accord and her eyes stared sightlessly into the horizon. Thoughts swirled in her head as she got lost in memories that hadn’t yet been dulled by time.

Funny how quickly things could change. How they could catch you off guard, even when you were preparing for them. After all, what had all those lessons about the kwamis— - their names, their personalities, their tastes - been about, if not for her to replace herthe old master when the years caught up to him.

Then again, it hadn’t been the years that caught him, but Hawkmoth. Nothing like an unexpected attack to move the time tables along. In all the uncertainty that had followed her since that battle, there was one thing that was unshakably true.

Master Fu was gone and the duty of protecting the miracle box had fallen to Marinette.

It was a fact that ran through her head at least a few times every day, but no matter how many times it happened, it never failed to knock the wind out of her. Even now, weeks later, she’d be hit with a sudden wave of sadness in the middle of class that she wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone.

Even her partner, Chat Noir, couldn’t really understand the full weight of what she had to deal with now. As much as she wanted to share with him, she had inherited more than just magical artifacts and responsibility from Master Fu - she’d inherited some of his caution, his paranoia. As far as she was concerned, she could bring Chat Noir into the fold slowly. However, she could never go back once she did,and she wasn’t ready to open up. Not yet.

Which was good for safety. Though not so great for her feelings of loneliness.

Nonetheless, her heart felt lighter when she saw the silhouette of her partner outlined against the setting sun, sitting on the roof’s edge. Secrets or not, they were still a team. One day, she knew she would be willing to share everything with him. Yet that day was not today.

She landed on the rooftop with a grace that she only had in the spots, and although she was sure she hadn’t made noise, his cat ears twitched and he turned toward her. The moment his eyes landed on her, he grinned.

“And just when I was starting to think you’d fur-gotten me.”

“With jokes that bad, I almost wish I had.” She raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “But what can I say? I’m a glutton for pun-ishment.”

Chat let out a tender sigh, putting his hands over his heart and laying on his back. “I love it when you pun with me, m’lady.”

“Don’t turn into a kitten puddle just yet, chaton.” She stood over him and nudged him in the shoulder with her foot. Their eyes locked as she leaned over him, her hands on her hips. “We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover before this patrol is over.”

“It is admirable that you two adhere to something so strict a routine as a patrol.”

Ladybug tensed up, her hand on her yoyo as she whirled toward the voice. A man was standing on the other side of the roof. He wouldn’t have looked out of place in one of her mother’s Chinese period dramas - from the archaic yellow robes to the shaved head - and he looked every bit the part of one of those Buddhist monks. Unlike them, however, he clutched a sturdy staff in one hand. From the iron caps on the ends and the fact he wasn’t leaning on it, she assumed it was more a weapon than a walking stick.

“That bodes well for the discipline that may have been instilled in you.”

The stranger frowned as Chat Noir sprung to his feet and pulled out his baton in one swift motion, crouching as he extended it into a full staff.

“Although, clearly, there is still room for improvement.”

Spinning her yoyo into a shield, she watched the stranger carefully. “Who are you?”

“And why are you so interested in ‘discipline’?” The hostility in Chat’s voice surprised her, but she pushed it aside for later.

“My apologies.” He raised one hand to his chest, palm pointing to the side and bowed his head. “I am Master Namdak of the Guardian oOrder.”

“The Guardian oOrder…?” Chat Noir said slowly, his stance relaxing as his eyes widened. “You mean Master Fu wasn’t the last one?”

“‘Master’ Fu?” Confusion tinged Namdak’s voice. “I know of no master by that name. Although…” He cupped his chin with one hand, eyes narrowed as they stared past the heroes. “I do recall a young acolyte by that name. And he had been the one in charge of your miracle box.”

“I heard that your monastery had returned, but I didn’t expect to see you here in Paris.” Ladybug caught her yoyo in the palm of her hand and settled into a more casual pose. “I was pretty sure it would have taken you longer to react to suddenly returning after like almost two hundred years.”

Namdak smiled, the indulgent smirk of a grandfather. “When you are custodians of artifacts that are strange and powerful - such as the miraculous - things like this become the new mundane.”

“That’s great!” Chat slammed his fist into his palm, a wild grin on his face. “Does that mean you’re here to help us?”

“In time, most likely.” Namdak nodded. “But for now, we are simply taking stock - establishing new contacts and retrieving lost artifacts.”

Unbidden, suspicion welled inside her.

“So what brings you here, then?” Ladybug’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “What’s your mission here? Contact or retrieval?”

Master Namdak continued smiling, but there was a hollowness to it, as if he took no joy in this conversation any longer.

“Retrieval.” Both hands settled on his staff - non-threateningly for now, though Ladybug didn’t fail to notice the tension in the air. “We know that you are in possession of the miracle box, chosen of Creation. All miraculous must be returned to the fold.”

Chat Noir backed up, closing his hand over his ring and shooting glares at Namdak. “No way are we letting you takesteal our miraculous! We were chosen for this!”

“Chosen by a renegade who never completed his training and yet deigned to call himself by the highest rank of our order.” Anger and frustration had seeped into the master’s voice and he calmed himself after taking a deep and soothing breath. “I realize this comes as a great surprise to you, but this is for the greater good, I promise.”

“If the greater good means sacrificing all of Paris to Hawkmoth,” Ladybug snapped, hands on her hips and glaring down the old monk, “then it isn’t a good that I want to be a part of!”

There was a long pause as they stared at each other.

“...Hawkmoth?”

“Did you seriously come to Paris without even trying to find out why two miraculous users were activated by your order?” Chat crossed his arms and snorted. “Talk about making a monk-ey out of yourself.”

“We can sense the presence of the miracle box, not all that is inside it.” Namdak frowned disapprovingly at Chat Noir. “How could we have known?”

“You knew enough to find out where we start patrols,” Chat countered. “Looks like you just got lazy after stalking us for a while.”

“Hawkmoth - and his henchman, Mayura - are two villains terrorizing this city,” Ladybug said, stepping forward just when it seemed Namdak was about to respond to Chat. “They are the holders of the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous, respectively. From what Master Fu told me,” she said, placing extra emphasis on the title, “they were the ones who found those miraculous long after the fall of the Guardian oOrder.”

Namdak stared at them for a long moment before turning away, his hand rising to his chin once again.

“This… changes things.”

“Good.” Ladybug smiled. “Maybe now that you understand what we’re going through, you can-”

“The Guardians will leave you with two miraculous, while returning the others to the custody of the Order. Two miraculous to fight two miraculous - this is fitting.”

“No!” Ladybug threw her hands in the air. “No, this is not ‘fitting’! Do you not know what abilities their miraculous hold? We’ve needed support from other miraculous from time to time and taking that option away from us will just make it all the harder to beat them.”

“All the more reason for my next suggestion.” Master Namdak pointed his staff at Chat. “He will need to surrender his miraculous.

Chat Noir paled as Ladybug put herself between him and the Guardian.

“That is not happening. Chat Noir is my partner and—”

Namdak shook his head. “You misunderstand me. He may have another from the miracle box, but it is the height of foolishness to allow the two miraculous of reality to be within arm’s reach of such a villain.”

Ladybug put her arms on her hips. “So, what? Now you’re banking on us failing to stop Hawkmoth? If he wins, then you’re just going to have a greater problem on your hands.”

“A problem that would be much lessened without him having the ability to make wishes come true and a small army of miraculous champions,” Namdak replied, a distant quality to his eyes that made it seem like he was staring at another time entirely. “If you are as skilled as you seem to believe, then you will be able to hold your own until the Guardians can return to aid you.”

“No deal. I’m not about to let your paranoia doom my entire city.” She pulled out her yoyo and spun it into a shield. Behind her, she heard Chat Noir take his baton in his hands. “Now go back and tell the Guardians that we don’t want them here.”

“I will leave, but I will return.” Master Namdak took a couple steps back, all without taking his eyes off of them. “You can count on that.”

She noticed too late that he had reached behind his back and tossed down a few clay pellets. When they hit the ground, a thick smoke blotted out all the meager light and both of them were wracked by coughing fits. By the time the smoke cleared a few moments later, he was gone.

“Well,” Chat said, between the last few coughing fits. “That wasn’t ominous at all.”

“Yeah… Think we did the right thing?”

“No doubt about it, LB. Why should we tie one hand behind our backs just ‘cause some old geezers want to do inventory?”

“Well, the miraculous are technically theirs.”

“So are the butterfly and peacock, but you didn’t see him hitting up Hawkmoth for donations first, did you?”

“You’ve got a point there.” Ladybug sighed. “And for a minute, I was hoping we were about to have a new friend in this war.”

Chat Noir pulled her into a half-hug. “Don’t worry, m’lady. At least I’m always here for you.”

“At least there’s that,” Ladybug said with a smile. “Still want to do our patrol?”

“Nothing I want to do more. Lead the way, bugaboo!”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Old Ways New Age #Marinette March #ml fanfiction #my writing

31 notes · View notes

ka-za-ri · 4 years

Text

Personal Assistant Pt. 6

Oh wow, y’all still here? The filth hasn’t driven you away yet? Well, that’s good to hear bc we’re about to get real nasty up in here. Taglist at the end.

Part 1: here Part 2: here Part 3: here Part 4: here Part 5: here Part 7: here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Pairing: Barbatos x Reader Lucifer x Diavolo x Reader Wordcount: 5,300 ish Genre: Dirty, filthy smut Tags: Multiple Orgasms, Demon sex, Rough sex, Endless sex, Size Kink, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Mirror Sex, threesome Summary: An emergency arises and you must leave the office to assist a sister company in dire need.

Business Trip

The best time to break a human was after they had been lulled into a sense of false security.

Lucifer was oddly gentle the following weeks after having shared you with Diavolo. His demands felt less taxing on your body whenever he asked you to service him. He seemed to be more open to expressing how good you made him feel; and that fact alone made your heart sing. It gave your body time to recover from how roughly you were taken that night. Even after a whole weekend of rest, he could tell there was a bit of a limp in your gait.

The attraction you felt towards him continued to intensify when you noticed just how gentle of a lover he could be when he wanted to be. You were so used to being pushed to your limits every week that the momentary break in how you were treated left you feeling so appreciated by him. Even if it was just an illusion; you wanted to just believe he cared.

You fell into a lull of comfort, expecting love making and not just a fuck out of him. His recent behavior had shown you that he was capable of having feelings for you. Or, at least that was what you had assumed. With your thoughts being clouded by your emotions, you deluded yourself into thinking that he was doting on you because he loved you as much as you loved him.

If only you knew he was only biding his time until you were in the perfect state to break.

Emergencies never happened in the office. Not when Lucifer was in charge at least. So, when you got into work one day and he was angrily speaking to someone on the phone, you knew something major had happened. You waited patiently for him to finish before asking what happened and if there was any way you could help.

“I need you to go somewhere for me. Consider it to be a business trip. ” He said, irritation clear in his voice. “It’ll only be for a day or two.”

“Of course, where will I be going?”

“Diavolo’s office.” He stated bluntly. Lucifer took a few deep breaths to soothe his temper before continuing. “Something’s happened to his own assistant and he’s too booked to handle the issue.” He heaved a sigh and shrugged. “You’re the only one we can trust to help in this situation.”

You blinked, not sure how to decipher his words. Figuring it would be best to take it at face value; you moved to start packing things up for a business trip. Your mind reeled at possible hidden meanings and the intentions behind his request. You had never left his side before. Whatever was going on, it must have been a major issue to put both their reputations at risk. Nothing like this had happened before; so, you were rather lost in regards as to what to bring with you. In the end, you settled for a notepad and some pens. If Devilgram’s offices were anything like yours, they would be well equipped for you to do managerial duties without issue.

“I have a ride arranged for you already. It should take a few hours to get to the office with traffic the way it is. Diavolo will fill you in on what you need to do.” Lucifer’s composure had returned and he gently ushered you to the elevator. “I’ll come get you later after hours. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He walked with you all the way to the black company car that was waiting in the parking garage for you. “Ah... “ he stopped you right before you went in. “Remember, you represent me. So be sure to do your best, no matter what.”

“Yes, Lucifer. I’ll make you proud.” You reassured, getting into the car and preparing for the long ride through congested city traffic.

If there was one way to describe Diavolo’s office, it would be: chaotic. As soon as you walked in, there was a flurry of papers being shuffled, a loud curse followed by an equally loud laugh and the sound of something solid being kicked. Diavolo appeared behind what looked like a mountain of paperwork, sheepishly running his hand through his hair. “Oh, you’re here early. Good.” He started walking you to a separate corner of his office, talking a mile a minute.

“So, my assistant is going through… some personal problems right now. Normally, I can help him through that, but they’ve scheduled me for a whole day of video conferences so I can’t do anything about it. And you know… how demons get when they… you know…” Diavolo visibly blushed, trying to get the words out. He stopped in front of an enclosure, his hand resting on the handle while he tried to figure out how to explain his situation to you.

“I… Don’t understand…” You admitted, confused about what he was trying to hint at.

“Oh?” His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline in surprise. “So, Lucifer hasn’t explained anything to you about what my assistant is going through?”

“No… this morning was rather rushed in trying to get me here as soon as possible.”

“Oh, well… come on in, let me explain it to you properly.”

As soon as the door swung open, you could hear the sounds of someone desperately whining. Your eyes followed the sound until they lit upon a young man… no, a demon curled up on one of the plush couches of the lounge, completely naked and writhing around. His teal hair plastered to his flushed face, he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He glanced up to the two of you, his eyes glazed over; it was almost as if he was staring right through you. Your eyes trailed down his body and stopped at his cock and you could feel yourself heat up, unable to tear your eyes away at its unique shape. Okay, note to self, no two demon dicks look the same…

“So, this is Barbatos.” Diavolo’s voice cut through your trance. “He’s my assistant, and normally he’d have this under control; but things happen.” The large man shrugged. “Demons go through a rather intense hormonal surge called a rut once every few decades or so. Sometimes they can feel it coming, other times, it’ll hit them like a truck. You can guess what happened this time.”

“Ah… the latter.” You said, nodding slightly, finally able to move on from staring at Barbatos’ cock and notice his tail swishing back and forth in agitation. It was quite a sight to take in. You could only assume what Diavolo was about to ask of you; but you wanted to hear it from him instead of coming to conclusions on your own.

“I can normally let him just ride this out, but we’ve got some really important meetings coming up this week that he has to attend, so you’re going to need to help take the edge off…” His hand rested on your shoulder. “If I didn’t have so many calls to take care of today, I wouldn’t have needed to call you over.”

Barbatos whined again from where he laid, tears streaked down his face as he looked at you, pleading with his eyes. “Please… help…”

Taking pity on his unfortunate situation, you took a tentative step forward, surprisingly calm for having such a giant bomb of information dropped on you. You reached out to him, gently pushing away his hair and he hissed at the contact, grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a deep, hungry kiss. The delicate horns on his head scratched your face, leaving long welts across your cheek.

“Well, I think you have an idea of what you gotta do. My meeting starts in a few minutes so I gotta jet. I’ll check up on you when I get a chance to!” Diavolo’s tone was frustratingly chipper as he made his leave. “Oh, and don’t worry about making too much noise. I’ve jinxed this room to be soundproof.” He reassured before he closed the door and left you alone with his assistant.

“I’m sorry…” Barbatos said in between his heavy pants. His taloned hands tore your clothes to shreds, his hormones taking control of his actions as he forcibly removed what you wore. You panicked; thinking about how you were going to get back with nothing on you. However, your worries had no place in a situation like this, especially when you felt Barbatos’ cock pressed against your thigh and he hissed in need, rolling his hips to meet yours.

You took another look at it, before taking it in your hand, following its twisted pattern from the base to tapered tip. It vaguely reminded you of a narwhal’s horn in how the muscles twisted together in a spiral to the tip which freely dripped cum. You ran your thumb across the tip, earning you a loud moan, Barbatos arched up, begging to be touched. His whole body was so sensitive from the rut that anything you did sent him deeper into a state of need.

Your skirt and panties were the next things to be ripped off of you, leaving you as naked as he was. He wasted no time in positioning you above him and slamming you down on his cock; letting out a guttural moan when he was balls deep in you. With the way he was shaped, he drilled into you easily, sliding in and out of your slick folds. Despite his delicate frame, he was strong, controlling the pace by holding your body right where he wanted it and brutally thrusting into you.

The ridges of his cock rubbed inside of you, making you gasp and moan. You felt yourself teetering and about to fall but something stopped you from doing so. His long tail tightly wrapped itself around your thigh, helping you stay stable. The demon beneath you looked at you with such heated hunger in your eyes, you felt yourself shiver, the pleasure his cock was giving you driven by his hormones served to heighten your own arousal.

You shouted in surprise when you felt something probing at your asshole. Looking behind you, you noticed the tip of his long tail caressing your ass crack and probe tentatively at the tight hole there. You looked back at Barbatos and saw how glazed over his eyes were from finally getting some relief. He was acting on pure primal instinct, taking everything he needed to end the onslaught of desire that coursed through his veins.

The tip of his tail coated itself in your essence that liberally flowed down your thighs before it went back to teasing your other hole. You gasped when you felt it press into you. He was still roughly fucking into your pussy as he pushed his tail further into you. His eyelids fluttered and his grip on your hips tightened as he started to stretch your tight hole open with slow even strokes. You didn’t have time to catch your breath as his cock hit every sweet spot in you and penetrated you deeply. Even if he didn’t have the same girth and length as Lucifer or Diavolo, the deep, spiraling ridges pressed against all the right places and made you cum without much effort.

He didn’t let you breathe after your first orgasm, fucking you without abandon and still working you with his tail. It was then when you realized that his tail was forked, scissoring your hole and stretching your ass in order to fit more of it into you. With your essence aiding in lubrication, it didn’t take long before he was able to put a significant portion of his tail into you and you started reeling in the feeling of having both your holes filled. Gasping for a break, you braced an arm against the back of the couch, using it to keep you upright as Barbatos used you.

He was insatiable, the heated need in his eyes didn’t dissipate even after he had cum into you. He kept going, fucking you through his orgasms and your own. Your whole body felt numb from all the times you had come undone around him. Each time it was explosive and raw, each time you thought it would be over; but, he kept going. At some point, the two of you found yourselves on the floor. You, on your hands and knees while Barbatos took you from behind, his tail working in rhythm to his cock to once again bring you to orgasm.

You clawed at the soft carpet below you, crying from the overload of sensations. It was too much, you had lost count of the number of times you had been brought to climax. Yet, the hormones running rampant in the demon fucking you refused to be sated until you blacked out, unable to take anymore.

Only then did the edge begin to wane. Even if he was still needy, Barbatos carefully curled his body around your unconscious one. His legs intertwined with yours as he kept his cock buried in you, keeping every bit of his seed inside. His tail which had fucked your asshole for hours now slowed its deep thrusts, slowly pulling out of you and giving your body some relief while you rested.

In your sleep, he placed soft kisses on your shoulders, massaging your breasts and whispering quiet apologies for how roughly he had treated you. You mumbled in your sleep, shifting a bit to get into a better position. As you moved, the instinctual side of Barbatos roughly moved you back into place. Even if the worst of the rut had run its course, his hormones still made him possessive and nearly feral at any shift outside of his control. As soon as you had settled into his arms again and he was sure you weren’t going anywhere, he finally let your body get some much needed rest.

He himself dozed in and out of consciousness. Even now, his body screamed for more despite how exhausted he was. The room reeked of sex and it only served to keep him hard inside of you no matter how many times he had released himself. His hips kept twitching, rocking into you driving his cock further into your warm depths as he craved contact and stimulation. His body was drained from being in a state of constant arousal. Now that he regained some sense of himself, he took his time in sliding his cock in and out of your abused hole.

You were brought to another high in your dreams. In your mind, you saw and felt Lucifer caress you. It was his body pressed up against your own and his cock that was penetrating your core. Your body reacted to the images of your dreams, keeping you wet and willing as Barbatos fucked you slowly in your sleep. You remembered begging; you remembered the image of his magnificent demonic form before you and how it made your whole body sing in pleasure. Everything ached, but it was so worth it to feel every detail of his cock working your swollen walls.

You gasped, feeling your orgasm rush through you and you were jolted back into reality. Barbatos still clung to you from behind, murmuring softly to you and treated you as if you were his most precious lover. He was barely awake, but you could see some light returning in his eyes whenever he blearily looked at you while he placed soft kisses along your jaw and your neck. His sharp teeth left marks all across your back as he marked you with love bites. The sudden shocks of pleasure kept you from sleeping for too long; but at least you were able to rest off the worst of the exhaustion..

“Oh? You’re already so calm?” Diavolo’s voice snapped you out of your daze and you glanced up to see him standing at the doorway. “Just finished up everything, so I came to check up on you to see how you were doing. Looks like you got through the hardest part.”

You weakly smiled at him as he walked in and closed the door behind him. “I think he’s sleeping.” You mumbled, gesturing to Barbatos behind you.

“He can sleep on the couch, it’s much comfier there.” Diavolo bent down and picked up his assistant, finally pulling him out of you and you gasped at the sudden loss of dick inside of you. All the cum that had been kept in you flowed out, coating your thighs and the carpet below you. You heard Barbatos mumble something in protest, but he was too tired to really do much against his much more energetic boss.

Once he had been put to rest on the couch, Diavolo turned to you. He sat down on the carpet and pulled you up to sit in his lap. “I’m sure that was very intense for you.” he murmured, planting gentle kisses on your temple while his large hands massaged your aching muscles. “I should apologize for putting you through that so suddenly.”

You didn’t have the energy to really rebuke his apology. Even if it had all been a surprise to you; you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy it. Honestly, what happened was likely better than spending eight hours filing paperwork. You managed to at least make a sound of acknowledgement and nestled yourself against his broad chest, enjoying the gentle aftercare he was giving you. He made you drink water at regular intervals and fed you while you drifted in and out of sleep. You weren’t sure how long you were in that strange state of limbo, but Diavolo nursed you back to feeling somewhat human.

When you awoke, you noticed that you were still cradled in Diavolo’s lap, but this time, he had significantly less clothing than before. Blinking to make sure that you weren’t dreaming, you were entirely too shocked to really process what you saw in the reflection of the full length mirror that was attached to the back of the lounge door. Your whole visit Diavolo’s headquarters had been such a whirlwind, you somehow managed to miss such a large fixture in the room. Your brain, still waking up, had to process the demon who’s lap you were sitting in. His chest was bare, whatever accessories he usually wore in this form had been removed already and laid safely to the side.

You ogled at the intricate swirling patterns that traveled across his whole torso. Ignoring how much of a right mess you looked after being fucked out of your mind, you took time to admire the leathery wings that sprouted from his back and the grand horns that graced his head. “My apologies, I like to go back to this form whenever no one is around. It’s so much more comfortable to me than looking like a human.” He explained, chuckling softly at your shocked expression.

“Oh…” you managed to get out, shifting a bit in his lap so you could get a proper look at his face.

“You’re not scared?”

“No… I think it’s very hard to be scared after seeing Lucifer and Barbatos.” You reasoned which earned a chuckle out of him.

“Fair enough.” He conceded. His hand gently combed through your hair, getting out the worst of the knots and tangles. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days.” You admitted, noting the distinct soreness your whole body experienced, especially between your legs.

“I can imagine…” He said, pressing a kiss at your temple. “You did so well, especially on short notice. I’m truly impressed at how well Lucifer trained you.”

“I… Thank you, my Lord.” You said, humbled by the praise and feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling spread across your chest. Hopefully that meant you were able to uphold Lucifer’s reputation through this ordeal.

“Hmm… You’re very welcome.” he said, humming softly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His hands traveled to your breasts giving them a tentative squeeze. “I know I said I soundproofed the room for you and Barbatos, but that was only for humans. I could still hear everything that happened in here.”

Your body went from hot to cold, a shiver ran down your spine and you could feel your brain stop working. His hands, gently but firmly spread your legs wide. In the mirror, you could still see Barbatos’ cum dripping out of your sore and tired pussy. You could also see the massive bulge you were sitting on top of. “Would you mind taking care of one more problem?” He asked, gesturing to his crotch and making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I… I’ll do my best to please you.” You said, swallowing hard and wondering if your body could really take anymore. After the rest and the care Diavolo had given you, it really did feel much better; but you weren’t sure if you were quite ready to take another demon’s cock into you.

“Ah.. no wonder he’s so attached to you. You’re just so willing to please.” He said, moving you off his lap only to quickly divest himself of his pants. The moment you saw what you had to work with, you licked your lips with uncertainty and felt your body instinctually prepare itself to accept the massive cock that he had just unveiled.

Diavolo kept you facing the mirror, straddling your legs on either side of his thick thighs. One hand at your abdomen, and another at your chest kept you upright as your shaking thighs started to sink onto his length. The blunt head of his cock spread your pussy wide open without any chance to ease into his girth and you immediately screamed. The soreness turned itself into pain as you tried to accept the demon lord’s cock into you. He hushed you, gently rubbing your breasts to keep you distracted from the pain. His strength kept you from collapsing. You looked forward, staring at the length that wasn’t in you yet and the knot that you would eventually have to accept. The tip of his cock had already disappeared into you, but he was about as thick as your forearm and almost as long. The large, pulsing knot at the base of his cock was at least the size of your fist. For the first time you worried about breaking in half.

“It’s okay… It’s okay…” He murmured softly, calming you down and distracting from how much you were about to take. “Just breathe slowly and you’ll have all of me soon.” he reassured.

He kept his voice low and soft, lulling you into a state of peace. Eventually the pain faded and you allowed yourself to sink further in him. You watched in awe as every inch of him slowly disappeared into you in the mirror. Your pussy stretched and contracted to accommodate the tapered swell of his cock. He coached you through every breath, mumbling soft praises and what sounded like spells to take away whatever pain you might have felt from being stretched out so much. You could see the outline of his cock pressed up against your lower abdomen as he got close to bottoming out in you. “Good girl…” He purred, smiling softly at how beautiful you looked with his dick stuffed into you.

He let you breathe, making sure that any discomfort was gone before he started moving inside of you. The moment you did, you felt as if you had been rearranged to accept his cock and everything that it brought along with it. The large ridge at the tip of his cock dragged itself along your sore walls, waking every tired nerve in your body. You moaned, leaning up against him and bracing yourself against his sturdy body while he moved you as he wished up and down his cock. Looking at the mirror, you saw how slick his shaft had become, coated with a mixture of your fluids and Barbatos’.

It was mind numbing how slow he went; but it was likely to your benefit. You were sure to have been broken if he had taken you with the same veracity as his assistant had. It let you enjoy every sensation to its fullest and after a few passes, you were writing in his lap, moaning his name and gasping every time he was fully seated inside of you. There was still the matter of his knot, but that was an afterthought to what you were experiencing right then and there.

His hand at your abdomen slid down to toy at your exposed clit which only added to the mind blowing sensations you were going through. You tried to call out his name but all that came out of you were gutural gasps. Your mouth stuck in a perpetual “O” as he only added more and more pleasure for you. “Mmm… that’s a good look.” He murmured rubbing circles at your clit and starting you on another pass up and down his cock. “When we get all the way back down, I want you to cum, okay?”

You only nodded in reply, watching your body rise and fall in the mirror, entranced at how easily he moved you up and down his dick. As he wished, the moment the last inch of his shaft disappeared into you, you came, clenching around him and crying out as white hot pleasure exploded inside of you. You spasmed, wheezing and crying, not even noticing the door had opened at that moment to welcome yet another person to the party.

Lucifer gaped at the sight before him. He licked his lips, unsure how to present himself. He knew you would be in a rather compromising position once he arrived to pick you up, but he didn’t expect this. The sight of you taking Diavolo’s demon cock inside of you, the way you were stretched right to your limit and writhing in his grasp sent waves of desire to his own crotch. He hadn’t planned on joining, but with how quickly he was getting hard just by watching you cum, he found himself unbuckling his pants and kneeling in front of you.

“You make me so proud…” He purred, kissing sense back into you and you squealed into his mouth. You were so enraptured with your own climax, you hadn’t noticed him come in at all. His hand laced itself into your hair, deepening the kiss and there was a deep, dark urge in him that he no longer could control.

It was time to push you past every limit he had ever set.

“I want to see you break…” He breathed as soon as the kiss was broken and you were given a second to regain your bearings.

Diavolo behind you let out a low whistle at that admission, his brows raised in anticipation of what Lucifer had in mind. He leaned back, getting himself comfortable and eagerly awaited what sort of plan Lucifer had to break you and put you back together.

Lucifer ran his length up and down your stretched slit, coating his cock with your juices. “Move.” He demanded, glaring up at Diavolo and the demon lord obliged, going back to the slow, languid pace he had set for you earlier. Watching your pussy stretch and take so much cock only served to make him harder and that need within him grew once again.

On the second pass, just as you were midway down Diavolo’s cock, you felt something else pressed into you, forcing its way in to join the massive dick that was already stuffed into you. Lucifer’s eyes glowed red as he pushed you past your limit and you swore you felt yourself splitting in two with how much you were being asked to take. Garbled sounds of protest spilled from your lips, but he persisted. As Diavolo continued to sink you down, Lucifer’s own cock joined in your hole and when you were once again bottomed out on top of Diavolo’s knot, you had somehow managed to take them both.

“Good… very good.” Lucifer groaned. He rolled his hips into you, shoving himself even deeper in you.

A soundless scream came from your voice as they went further and moved to add that massive knot into you. With Diavolo firmly pushing you down onto him, the motion only embedded Lucifer deeper into you. The widest part of the knot approached and you didn’t want to see how wide you had been split open by the two demons. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all there was in your world was searing hot pain, pressure and pleasure mixed into one.

And as the widest part slipped into you, the tie completed itself and your body no longer felt anything. As if your very soul had exited your body and you existed in a subspace in your mind. There was pleasure, yes, but there was an inexplicable fullness you couldn’t express. Your arms fell limp at your sides They would move soon, you knew that would be the case. Diavolo had already whispered something to Lucifer as you stared blankly at the ceiling, shutting out everything around you to simply experience what they were giving you.

The movement at first was barely perceptible. Diavolo took charge, considering it was his knot you were taking. With the way Lucifer was crammed into your pussy, he was in no position to move as well. It was a slow rocking of his hips like waves crashing into a cliff. There was a ringing in your ears that tuned out all sound around you save for the frantic beating of your heart. The demon lord rocked his length in you, stirring that tell tale feeling of an orgasm building up in you.

You didn’t think you could clench around them, it was impossible with how full you felt. But the pressure of your climax demanded your muscles to do things you didn’t think you had the capacity to. Each little motion amplified itself, sending your mind into a blank bliss and you could tell the end was near. Your skin felt hot breath on it as the men neared their release as well. Blissfully, you heard Lucifer’s voice cut right through the hazy subspace.

“Cum”

You did as you were told, screaming until your voice was hoarse and when the high was over, all was black.

You awoke sprawled out on the seat of a limo. Your head on Lucifer’s lap. You tried to move but your muscles refused to comply. Lucifer gently pat your head, shushing you quietly. “You don’t have to move. It’s a long ride home.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Rest for now…”

“My.. My clothes..” You croaked, your throat as sore as your body and barely able to make many coherent sounds.

“It’s okay, Diavolo let you borrow his shirt. It’s big enough to keep you decent.”

A surge of relief washed across your body at that fact. Even if it was just a shirt, it would at least be better than having to get home in nothing at all. You looked up at Lucifer who seemed so pleased. There was a small, soft smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your hair and doted on you.

You tried to move again, if only to find a more comfortable position and found that Lucifer’s blazer had been protectively draped over your body to keep you warm. The familiar scent of his cologne and musk slowly lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

“Did I do okay?” You asked before you were fully unconscious.

“You did perfectly. I couldn’t have asked for more.” He reassured. His hand continued to meditatively pat your head as the limo took the long way home, giving you as much time as possible to let you rest peacefully.

Having taken the time to break you so thoroughly, Lucifer couldn’t wait to start the process of putting you back together as he wished.

~~ Taglist: @ptv-hades @bluelipsblueveins-blue @utopiamiroh @vanillaicebaby @taehyungtrasholiviahaneul99

#Obey me #Obey me fanfiction #Barbatos x reader #Lucifer x Diavolo x Reader #Obey me smut #My writing #this shit is filthy af #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #how tf do y'all tag these things #idk i just write stuff and pray ppl find it i guess

232 notes · View notes

weepingvoidpenguin · 4 years

Text

The Gods’ Blessing

Summary: In your world, everyone had a soulmate. That’s just how things went. Everyone had some sort of Indicator that their other half was out there, be it telepathy or a red string that connected these two strangers. Yours was one unspoken of, in fact, you’d never heard anyone say that they had the same Indicator as you. And because of this rarity you longed to meet the person who could gift you with what you lacked, maybe not so much so to be with the person but more so to finally see what others took for granted. Yet, you held onto the hope that one of your best friends was your Meant-To-Be but he has his eyes on another girl and the little green monster slowly engulfs you at the deterioration of your hope.

Warnings: None,

Potentially a Part 2, I finally have some free time over a mini break and my heart is yearning for some good ol’ Spider-Man.

Word Count: 5,223

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

“If I have to sit through another one of her lectures I’m going to lose my mind,” you said, rubbing your temples and taking your seat at the lunch table with MJ.

“We’re only halfway through the year,” MJ responded, twirling a piece of celery in the air as she spoke.

You grumbled and rested your head on the Advanced Biology textbook in front of you, “Yes, thank you, MJ, for so eloquently pointing that out,”

She smiled, “You’re welcome,”

“Hey guys.” Ned took his seat next to you and slammed his AP Biology book on the table, “If I have to sit through another one of her lectures,”

“Thank you!” You exasperated, throwing your hands up in agreement.

MJ snorted with laughter and pulled her phone out, “So what’ll it be for tonight? Movie at my house? Movie at the theater?”

“Studying,” you answered, throwing open the textbook and immediately forming a headache.

The chatter of the lunchroom rang in your ear and you grumbled in annoyance, trying to rehash on today’s lesson as best you could when another loud thud on the table caught your attention.

“So, have we decided what we’re doing for tonight?” Peter asked, excitement clear in his tone.

“Apparently (Y/N) has no intentions on having a good time and has dedicated her life to passing Biology,” Ned offered up, handing Peter the notes he missed for the class.

“Aw, come on, we can’t keep skipping out on our weekly hangouts, that’s when they disappear altogether,” Peter huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair as Liz sat in the empty chair beside him and Peter quickly straightened his posture and a twinge in your chest caused you to roll your eyes. He was constantly trying to make himself look good around her.

“Hey guys.” She smiled and pulled out her lunch for the day, “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Ugh!” You groaned and Ned snatched his notes back from Peter to study over them with you.

“Movies at my place,” MJ decided and nodded her head as if agreeing with herself, “Yeah, that’s what we’re gonna do,”

Peter’s eyes lit up and he faced Liz, “Unless you wanted to do something else? Of course, movies at MJ’s is always fun but if you had anything else in mind then I wouldn’t be opposed to-”

Liz held up her hand, “Movies at MJ’s sounds fun,”

For as long as you could remember, Peter’s had a huge crush on Liz Allen and boy was it starting to really tap dance on your final nerve. Not only did you not appreciate Peter’s constant gawking over her but it was bad enough that now she had to come to the weekly meet-ups at Peter’s insistence. Now, you didn’t hold any grudges against Liz, in fact, she was pretty cool and superbly nice and that was something you could appreciate about her. It was just the fact that every time Peter looked at her with his puppy dog eyes your heart would twist in agony that was starting to get really old. Like, really old.

“I think I’m gonna have to pass on this one,” you said, Ned skimming to the part of the notes that you were confused about.

“No one’s flaking out this time,” MJ spoke up and lifted her pencil off her sketch pad, “Peter’s practically rainchecked every hang out this month and he’s finally willing to breathe with us for a second so we’re going to hang out whether you like it or not,”

“MJ, I would but I have to study for the exam on Monday,” you tried to explain but she could tell by the look on your face that there was an underlying reason.

“So then Peter can help you study while I set up for the movie but you’re not skipping out on us,” MJ turned away from you and started a conversation with Liz about their soulmates.

See, on this earth everyone was born with a soulmate and they could find out who in a variety of ways. Some people had an invisible red string that only they could see, some could read each other’s thoughts, some couldn’t see color until touching their soulmate for the first time and the list goes on but no matter what, your soulmate always had the same indication or lack of ability.

For the longest time, you thought you didn’t have a soulmate. You weren’t born with words on your body, no red string, no telepathic ability, nothing. It was until one night on the summer of your tenth year that you finally found out what you were missing.

“(Y/N), MJ’s here!” your mother shouted from downstairs and you hopped off the bed to see your best friend standing there in her usual baggy clothes.

“My mom’s gonna order us pizza for tonight,” she chimed cheerily and whisked you away by your hand after saying good-bye to your mom.

“Have fun!” She shouted after you and watched to make sure you entered your neighbors house.

“My dad says there’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, you wanna see?” MJ asked later on that night when the pizza had arrived and you’d cuddled up in bed together.

“What’s a meteor shower?” You asked, not convinced you wanted to waste your time looking at something you didn’t even understand.

“It’s when the sky looks like there’s a bunch of shooting stars,”

You shrugged your small shoulders and looked out of MJ’s window. The city had been so light polluted that anyone could hardly see the sky anyway so you shook your head and threw some popcorn in your mouth, “I don’t think so, you can’t see anything out there,”

She nodded her head with no argument, obviously not as interested in the topic as you had assumed, and continued to watch Spy Kids with you.

“I hope you know I’m Carmen,” she said after the movie had ended and the popcorn had long been gone.

You shook your head and pretended to throw a gadget at her feet, “I’m Carmen!” You said, ducking under a pillow as the make-believe gadget electrocuted her.

“Nu-uh!” She stomped around her room, her tiny fists balled up at her side when there was a sudden knock on the door.

“MJ, (Y/N), come look at this!” MJ’s dad’s excitement could be seen on his face so you both followed his order without second guessing.

He led you to her parent’s shared bedroom and opened their window, stepping out onto their fire escape and walking to the railing. You gulped. You’d always been afraid of the fire escape but only because it had been ingrained into your mind that the fire escape was not a toy and was very dangerous. So you cautiously followed her dad and mom out the window to the railing.

MJ’s mouth dropped as she stared at the dark expanse above you, “Wow!” She squealed.

You looked up to find what she was looking at once you caught up to her.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Asked her father, amazed at the sight before him.

MJ’s mom nodded and brought you closer to her so you could get a good look at the show.

“What?” You asked, straining your eyes to see the night’s sky, “What do you see?”

“You don’t see it?” Her father asked, his eyes never once prying away from above.

“See what?” You asked, your eyes scanning back and forth, up and down and still nothing as the minutes passed. “I don’t get it,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and almost stomping around to head back into the house when MJ grabbed your elbow to keep you in place.

“Look!” She gasped, pointing out into the void.

And you looked. You looked hard for so long until your eyes burned with the strain but that night you never became amazed in the same way that her family was. They held admiration for the sky sprawled above them but you could never meet their excitement.

For that night and all the nights before then when you looked up at the sky, you saw nothing.

MJ had found her soulmate last summer while on a school trip and although you weren’t going out into the world and looking for your soulmate, you couldn’t help the bit of envy you felt. You were happy for her of course, she’d been so happy when she met her other half and they have yet to go a day without communicating as he didn’t live anywhere near the area. You’ve met him over facetime calls and had a few meaningless conversations with him when MJ wanted you guys to get to know each other (she wants her best friend and her boyfriend to get along). But you couldn’t help the twinge of guilt whenever she would go into the other room for a phone call and you were left by yourself.

Again, you weren’t sad or upset, more so just kind of wishing you had something similar so you didn’t have to wait in anticipation to find out who your soulmate was. But then again there was a part of you that didn’t wish to know because if it was anyone other than Peter, you would’ve been crushed.

You’d been crushing on Peter since you met him in the early days of your High School career. You’d had a few classes with him and actually joined the Decathalon team much to MJ’s persistence and you were forever grateful when you did. Not only because you’d gotten to spend more time with her and the fact that you got to spend more time with Peter but because you actually liked it, like, a lot.

But as time passed you’d become great friends with Peter and his friend, now your friend, Ned. And MJ and Ned both noticed how your behavior changed once Peter started growing feelings for Liz, who claimed she’d already met her soulmate mind you. It wasn’t until months later that Ned that it slip that Liz had lied about that to make everyone back off but she’d let it slip to Pete who’s hopes shot up.

Ever since Peter found out she lied about meeting her soulmate, he’s been following her around like a lost puppy. But in good conscious, we all pretended we didn’t know Liz was lying about having met her soulmate so she didn’t feel self-conscious about it, despite her reasoning making sense.

As far as you knew, Peter could see the night sky and you’d never shared with anyone what your soulmate indication was. All of the ones that your friends had, the first words, first touch, the lack of color, none of theirs had matched up with yours. In fact, you have yet to hear of someone who lacked the ability to look at the stars so you kept your mouth shut in fear of being ostracized.

“Earth to (Y/N)!” Ned said, waving his hand in your face to catch your attention.

“What? Oh, sorry, let’s get back to it,” you said, focusing back on your studies and failing to see the guy walking towards your table.

“Hey Liz, MJ,” said the brunette boy who you’d come to know as Brad Davis. They greeted him with smiles and he turned to you, “Hey (Y/N),” he said, twisting his hands around in themselves and looking down at his shoes before managing the courage to look up.

“Hi, Brad,” You said, not once looking up from your textbook.

After a few seconds of silence you felt Ned elbow you and you pulled your eyes from the book to see Ned motioning to the looming figure beside you. You stared up at Brad and gave him a confused look, “What’s up?” You asked, wanting to get back to Satan’s science as soon as possible.

“I was wondering if, maybe you’d want to come see a movie with me this weekend?” he asked with a shy smile on his face.

You smiled politely at him and you felt the eyes of everyone at your table burning through your body, “Brad, we don’t have the same Indicator,” you simply responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I know,” he looked down at the words tattooed on his forearm that would disappear once he met his soulmate, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like spending time with you and there’s no harm in a movie,”

You looked away from Brad and scanned the eyes of your friends, all of them waiting for you to respond, you were too shocked at his question that you didn’t notice the slight panic in Peter’s gaze. You turned back to Brad and shrugged your shoulders, “Why not?” you agreed, “But not tonight, how about tomorrow at six?” you offered, knowing MJ would kill you if you flaked on them for someone that wasn’t even your soulmate.

His smile broadened and he nodded, “Yeah! I’ll pick you up,”

You smiled back at him, “I’ll text you my address,”

Brad walked away glowing with a radiance that he didn’t have before asking you out on a date. Once he was out of sight you turned back to Ned and raised your eyebrow at his expression.

“What?” You asked, now registering everyone else’s reactions as well.

“Nothing,” Mj said, shrugging her shoulders and completely unbothered by what just happened while Ned and Pete exchanged quick glances before Ned called your attention back to the textbook.

Later that night, you headed straight to MJ’s after school with Ned and Liz while Peter claimed he would meet up with us in a few hours. You’d walked the way to her house in excitement as the day’s events clicked in your mind. MJ wasn’t too interested in the topic but Liz wouldn’t stop talking about it with you. She seemed elated that Brad had asked you out despite clearly not being your soulmate and you felt the flattery slowly disappear as she began talking about Peter and how she was beginning to grow feelings for him.

You nodded at all the right parts and smiled when you were supposed to but never spoke up or dug deeper than she would offer up herself. Truthfully, you didn’t want to know how the boy you’d had a crush on for the past three years might actually get the girl he’d been crushing on for the past three years.

Once the knot began to form in your throat, MJ took hold of your hand and squeezed it tightly, reassuring you that she was there for you. You squeezed her hand back in a silent thank you and walked the rest of the way by her side with a sad smile on your face.

“So what’s on the menu for tonight?” Ned asked once the pizza showed up and Peter texted you all in the group chat letting you know he was around the corner.

“We have action, comedy and horror. What do we start with?” MJ asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

“Same order you announced,” you offered, taking a slice of the pizza in front of you and taking a bite out of it.

“Same order it is,” Liz agreed and you handed her the box, “Thanks,” she said and took a slice.

The sound of the door opening and locking behind you caught your attention and the steps coming up the stairs made your heart rate pick up. You watched in anticipation as Peter joined the rest of you and zipped his backpack shut quickly.

“Hey,” he waved to everyone and you nodded to him as casually as you could.

“I saved you a seat.” Liz patted the available space beside her and you cursed yourself for not noticing that she had been saving the spot.

Pete took his spot next to Liz and you huffed, sitting back against the cushion of the upstairs living room in MJ’s huge apartment. MJ popped the DVD into the console and took her seat next to you before leaning and smiling.

“I know I’m not Peter Parker but I hope I will do for tonight,” she teased.

You softly shoved her and handed her the plate she had been making you hold for her while she chose the movies. “Of course, you’ll do, but only for tonight,” you responded and she rolled her eyes before outstretching her arms for you to lean in and get comfortable to watch the movie.

The first two movies flew by and during each movie break you’d stretched and tossed away the garbage you’d created.

“Last one for the night,” MJ said, showing everyone the disc and you agreed already yawning from the exhaustion creeping up.

You heard snickering come from your left and you peeked over to see Liz leaning against Peter and his arm wrapped around her shoulder, their fingers intermingled and you stood up abruptly from your seat, catching everyone’s attention.

“You ok?” Ned asked, reaching out to take your hand and seat you back down but you retracted your hand and took a step away.

“Yeah, sorry, I just need some air,” you apologized and walked towards MJ’s room and opened the window, taking a step onto the fire escape and resting against the metallic railing.

You looked out into the empty void above you, noticing how it looked the same as it always had. No twinkling lights, no shooting stars, no Jupiter or Mars, no belt. Nothing. Of course, it was hard missing out on the beauty that others took for granted but it was almost worse during the day. Considering the sun was also a star, that meant seeing things during the day was a little difficult for you.

You wiped at your eyes when you heard MJ’s door open and close behind you but you didn’t bother turning around, already knowing who was there to comfort you.

She didn’t say anything at first, she just stood there beside you and looked up at, what you were sure, was a beautiful sky. A few minutes passed of her just keeping you company when she finally spoke up.

“You know they say those that can’t see the sky have been specifically chosen by the gods,” MJ chimed, looking out into your void. “They blessed a few rare spirits with the strongest kind of love, the kind that the celestials wished for themselves but those few spirits could not lay eyes on the gods until they met their soulmate. And since the gods are supposed to live among the stars, they couldn’t see the night’s sky. That was the price they had to pay because they were chosen,”

You scoffed and looked away from the nothingness, “Chosen for what?”

MJ shrugged her shoulders, her eyes still glued to the abyss, “Who knows? I just know that the myth says you can’t see the Gods because they’re waiting for you to join them once you’re ready,”

“So, I have to die?” You asked, your tears long gone but your agony ever present.

MJ chuckled but shook her head, “No, more like actually meet them. Only heroes meet the Gods.” She turned away from the railing and entered her bedroom through the window, “I know you want it to be Peter,” her voice dropped, trying to explain that she felt the pain I felt once, “But maybe you should just let destiny do its thing,”

You nodded, too weak to verbally respond to her.

“We’ll be watching the movie, take your time.” MJ opened the door to her room and halted before leaving, “Oh and uh, you’re not missing much, ya know? With the stars? There’s too much light pollution for you to really see anything anyway,”

The door shut behind you and you sighed when you were rejoined with silence. You looked up at the darkness above and held out your arms, “The Gods, huh?” You asked, almost trying to speak to them, “What do you want with me? I’m no hero,” you whispered, your brave façade torn apart now.

You turned around when nothing answered, not that you were expecting a response just that you were hoping for a sign or something. But nothing came so you begrudgingly turned back around and joined your group of friends after shooting Brad a text.

Hey. I know we agreed on tomorrow but how about tonight in an hour or so?

You watched the rest of the movie, waiting in anxiousness for a response. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t want to go on a date with Brad, you just wanted a distraction from Peter. Especially after how much they were cuddling right now.

Towards the end of the movie your phone vibrated and you pulled it out of your pocket.

Sure! I’ll be on my way soon.

You smiled at the message and sent Brad the address.

After the movie had ended you stood up to help MJ throw away the lingering garbage.

“So who was the mystery person you texted during the movie?” Ned piped up, taking the garbage from your hands and tossing it into an empty bin.

“You were texting someone during the movie?” Liz asked, too occupied with Peter to notice anything, not that you’d blamed her.

You shrugged your shoulders and walked over to the mirror on the wall to make sure you didn’t look too tired for the date. You didn’t particularly care how you looked, you weren’t even that interested, you just didn’t want to come off as a slob.

“Brad’s picking me up soon, I just wanted to reschedule because I have a lot of studying to do this weekend and I don’t want to waste another day when I can hit everything on the list tonight,” you admitted.

MJ smiled at you, ��Ooh, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,”

“What wouldn’t you do?” You teased, a devilish smirk on your lips.

“Exactly,” she responded and you all laughed at her retort. All except Peter.

A few minutes had passed before you heard a knock at the door and you picked your head up as you finished tying your shoes.

“Wow, he came to the door and everything,” Ned joked, watching for Peter’s reaction.

“Such a gentleman,” MJ added and opened her front door, “She’s getting ready, you can wait inside if you want,”

MJ stepped aside and let Brad through the door. You couldn’t help but look him up and down. Although you weren’t attracted to him and he most certainly was not your soulmate, you weren’t afraid to admit he looked good in his outfit. A simple black shirt and jeans with a black jacket thrown over his shoulder. He looked like a Greaser.

“Nice outfit,” you complimented, throwing your arms through your own jacket and standing in front of him.

“Oh, this? It was nothing,” he joked but you could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed that he was nervous.

“Alright, get out of here,” MJ shooed you both through her front door, “I want her home by eleven!” MJ said sternly and you knew she’d wait for a text from you to let her know you were perfectly safe.

“Have fun!” Liz shouted as MJ shut the door behind the two of you.

The date with Brad ended up going okay. There was nothing particularly wrong with him and he tried his hardest to impress you but you just didn’t connect with him in any way so when the date came to a close you denied a ride home and opted to walk home instead. You knew it was stupid and practically asking for danger but you just wanted some fresh air to clear your head. Much to Brad’s insistence, you couldn’t walk home without calling him first and having him on the line until you reached your destination. You appreciated his kindness and agreed to his terms, knowing that it was probably safer that was as well.

You walked the streets of the city and barely took in your surroundings as your thoughts flooded your head and sidetracked your mind. It was only when you heard a thud that you lifted your head and looked to the now occupied space to your right.

Your eyes widened as you recognized the blue and red suit and you took a side step before muting your phone.

“Hi!” He chirped up quickly, the whites that were his eyes on the mask squinted slightly as he waved at you, “Uh, I know this is random but I just noticed you walking by yourself and wanted to know if you were okay,”

You stared in shock at the masked man and took a step towards the street, “How do I know that you’re not some crazy dude in a mask?”

“Well, I mean, I kind of am,” He responded and managed to crack a small smile from you.

“Okay well then how do I know you’re the Spider-Man?” You asked, raising your eyebrow.

He raised his hand and shot a web at the nearest streetlamp and flung himself around it, landing back at your side. “Proof enough?” He asked.

“Maybe,” you said jokingly and continued walking at a steady pace.

“Well is maybe good enough to walk you home?” He insisted.

You looked him up and down with suspicion but slowly nodded your head and stuffed you phone into your backpack to avoid it flying out. Spider-Man held out his hand for you and brought you close to him. You could feel the warmth radiate from his chest as it pressed against yours and you melted into his arms. There was a welcoming feeling about him that you’d never experienced in anyone else’s arms, it was weird and sudden but familiar and not unwelcome.

He stiffened for a split second before relaxing and letting you rest your head against his shoulder, “You ready?” He barely spoke above a whisper.

“Are you sure you can carry me?” You asked last minute and was answered with being flung in the air as Spider-Man slung from building to building and you held on for dear life as the city blurred past you. A few screams managed to escape your lips but you held the rest in as the fear turned to excitement and you embraced the way the ride felt.

You managed to let him know where your building was, although he was somehow already going in the right direction, and he placed you down on the railing that you said was outside your window.

“Thank you,” you said, trying to fix your hair and wrapped your arms around yourself when it began to turn cold from the wind.

“No problem,” he said, his hand going to the back of his head, “Thanks for letting me walk you home,”

You laughed, “Yeah, well, you can walk me home anytime,” you joked and unlatched your window with the magnet you carried around.

You stepped into your room and grabbed your blanket before stepping back outside and thanking Brad for staying on the phone with you but that you were home and safe and sound. You managed to leave out the part where Spider-Man was the one that accompanied you home and hung up.

“So who’s this Brad?” Spider-Man asked, resting against the railing.

You rolled your eyes, “Just this one guy. He asked me out earlier today and I was just coming back from the date when you picked me up,”

“A date?” he asked, “And he let you walk home alone?”

“Not necessarily, I basically had to beg him to let me walk home. I just needed some air to think for a minute,”

“Why? What’s wrong?” He asked, sitting on the stairs beside your window.

You shrugged your shoulders and failed to meet his gaze, or what you thought was his gaze, “I’ve just got a few things on my mind, is all,”

Spider-Man nodded and slowly stood up, “Well I can leave you to your thoughts if that’s what you’d like,”

“No!” You said, grabbing his hand and holding him in place but then blushing at your action and letting go despite your body telling you not to, “I would actually really like some company right now,” you admitted, feeling your knuckles turn white from the strength of your grasp.

He stood there for a second, contemplating what you said but nodded and sat back down, “Then my company is what you’ll get,”

You smiled up at him and the part inside of you that was screaming for his presence subsided a little. You pulled out your phone and sent MJ a text letting her know that you were okay and you were home.

You talked to Spider-Man about your friends and family, letting him know things about you that you wouldn’t normally tell someone you just met. And he reciprocated by telling you as much as possible without giving away who he was.

“There’s this one guy,” you started, your cheeks blushing at the thought of Peter, “I’ve had feelings for him for years now,”

“Years!?” Spider-Man teased, “Who is it?”

You rolled your eyes, “Like I’m gonna tell you! You probably know him,” you joked, taking a swig of your water bottle and handing him the one he asked for.

“How would I know him?” He chuckled.

“I don’t know but you could!” You responded, not budging on telling this kid who your heart belonged to.

“Can I get a hint?” He asked.

You smiled but went silent for a minute, “The only thing I’m telling you is that it’s unrequited,” you responded and your smile faded.

The previous light-hearted ambiance dissolved to be replaced with silence, “He’d be an idiot to not like you,”

You chuckled at that, “You don’t even know me,”

He cocked his head slightly but then nodded as if remembering something, “Well, you’ve told me quite a bit about yourself tonight and from what I gather I like you,”

Your heart leapt for some reason and you cursed yourself for letting simple words like that excite you, “Well he’s also not my soulmate,” you responded, “So it doesn’t even matter,”

“What’s your indication?” He asked, scooting ever so slightly closer to you.

You wanted to tell him, you really did, but your embarrassment kept your mouth shut, “Nothing, I’m not even sure I have one,”

“Everyone has an Indicator,” he said, leaning closer to you.

You shook your head and stood up slowly, “Maybe another night,” you offered and took a step into your room, “Thank you for keeping me company tonight. I really enjoyed talking to you,”

He lifted his arm to reach out to you but quickly decided against it, “No problem, I liked talking to you too,”

You watched as he hopped onto the railing and just as he was about to jump off you cried out, “Wait!” He stopped his motion and turned his head to look at you, “Will I see you again?”

You could see a smirk form through his mask and he turned back around, “Sooner than you’d think,” he said and jumped off the railing before swinging around the corner of the building and leaving you there wishing that he’d come back.

1K notes · View notes

river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Note

Here's the headcanon-ficlet-thing I promised! Actually, sorry, it's only HALF of my idea. This thing got MUCH longer than I intended and I've decided it would be easier to just chop this whole thing in two. If I ever send another headcanon, it'll either be much shorter than this or I just won't use anon. Anyways, the death of Dick's parents had just been so SUDDEN and I started thinking, "What if Dick had some separation anxiety when he was younger that just... Never really got resolved? His parents were gone, just like that, and Bruce literally risks his life every day. That couldn't have helped my made up conflict either, I imagine." Hope you enjoy! (1/13)

When Dick first arrived at the manor, he'd just been so GLOOMY. Even after Tony Zucco's arrest, he moped around the living spaces and never seemed happy with how spacious the manor's rooms were. A handful of times, Bruce and Alfred had caught him crying in the emptier wings by himself, but they had never really been sure what to do with the kid other than feel guilty. Sometimes (rarely), Dick would seek one of them out for a hug or SOME form of comfort, but it never seemed to be enough to truly make him feel better. It was no secret that Alfred and Bruce were not the most affectionate people in the world, and Dick had come from a very loving place. It was just another new thing to adjust to in his already new, unfamiliar life. Then Dick wanted to be Robin, full time, and neither Bruce nor Alfred could really say 'no.' Dick still wasn't happy- not for a while- but eventually, his mood started to improve. (2/13)

Maybe that was why no one initially found the boy's habit of waiting by the manor doors alarming. It was one of the places he visited more frequently, and Alfred originally assumed it was because he liked hanging on that specific entrance's chandelier more than the others. However, as the weeks passed, it became obvious that it was just a place Dick liked to hang out when he was waiting for Bruce to return from work or patrol. When it began nearing six thirty, the time Bruce's work hours ended, Dick would set up his homework or drawing paper on the floor and work just to the side of the doors as he waited for them to open. Sometimes he'd even hold a handstand or stretch for however long it took Bruce to come home that day. At first, Alfred didn't know what to make of it. But, watching the way Dick's face lit up every time Bruce knocked at the door, the old butler figured the small habit couldn't do any harm no matter how strange it was. He was just happy the boy wasn't still brooding. (3/13)

Bruce also noticed how Dick always seemed to be waiting for him after work, but ultimately didn't find anything concerning about the observation. Sure, it was a little strange to have such a large reminder that he was an actual guardian now, but he reasoned with himself that Dick would grow out of it after a certain point. He decided to just let the boy be and life carried on. Besides, he wasn't Dick's only person of support; Bruce had caught Dick watching Alfred work in the kitchen on a number of occasions with a concentrated look on his face. Without a doubt, the boy was finally starting to adapt to the manor's way of life. (In all honesty, Bruce had probably been too busy being relieved over the old butler's existence to judge whether or not any of his new ward's behaviors could be considered alarming.) (4/13)

As Dick grew more and more relaxed overtime, neither Bruce nor Alfred put much thought into his other developing habits. For instance, as Robin, Dick always made sure to check in with a quick "Are you still there, Batman?" over the comms everytime the line went quiet for more than ten minutes. Bruce would occasionally warn him not to call in when they were on stealth missions, but Dick never quite seemed comfortable with leaving the line COMPLETELY dead whenever they left each other's sight. On those missions, he'd sometimes blow softly into his comm unit, and Bruce would have to make some subtle noise back so as not to completely worry the kid. Dick even seemed to develop certain behaviors around charity events and galas; for example, he would always hug Bruce's pant leg at the beginning of the events and would only let go once he was made to socialize. Despite the fact that it soon became apparent the kid was far from shy, the habit always took place without fail, to Bruce's perplexed amusement. Maybe the kid just hated Gotham's elites? (5/13)

More and more little habits flew under the radar as everyone still seemed to be adjusting to the new lifestyle. Occasionally Bruce and Alfred would pick up on something seeming a little off, but at the same time, Dick finally looked happy. Really, a few weird displays of affection here and there were FAR from their concern so long as Dick's days of endless distraught were over. And so, once Dick finally- and TRULY- settled into the manor as his new home, a bunch of odd behaviors just seemed to be swept under the carpet and ignored. On the unavoidable nights where Bruce got injured in the field, there was no missing how the habits seemed to rise in intensity, but by then... They became the everyday normal and were never addressed. (6/13)

(The Justice League found Robin's behavior more bemusing than anything. Dick was still in the habit of obsessively checking the comms when Batman, on a rare occasion, asked for backup. "Check in, Batman?" "Still scaling the perimeter. We might not catch any activity tonight past a few petty thefts." "Alrighty. And, uh, Superman! Status update!" "Nothing going on up here either, Robin." "Okay!" Ten minutes passed and the boy's voice crackled back to life on the comms once more. "Is everyone still okay?" After that one particular patrol, Clark had sent Bruce a questioning look. "He's nine. Of course he's worried." Clark didn't push it- or anyone else for that matter.) (7/13)

It wasn't until Dick turned sixteen and started looking to be more independent that his behavior finally set off a few alarm bells. His check-ins had turned more snippy over the years when Bruce and him got into fights, but they never really stopped. The arms clinging to Bruce's pant legs at galas were instead replaced by a friendly hand on Bruce's shoulder, yet Dick's presence had never really left his side- only growing more flighty and uncertain as he got older. When Dick did his homework, by then in his last year or two of highschool, it was no longer on the floor but instead in the dining room closest to the manor's entrance- still started at around five or six just like when Dick first arrived at the manor, and still fit to Bruce's work schedule. It occurred to Alfred that a few of Dick's behaviorisms probably should have been checked out a while ago. (8/13)

"When you were Master Richard's age, you were barely home. It's normal for teenagers to want a bit of distance and alone time, but Master Bruce, he only stays after school for club activities. The rest of his time is either spent partoling around the city or helping YOU. I'm worried whether or not his behavior is healthy." Bruce had contimplated these words before giving his own thoughts. At the time, he and Dick's working relationship as Batman and Robin was becoming a bit more strained, but he still KNEW Dick. "I'm not sure, Alfred. He says he's happy with the friends he has, and he's always been relatively well behaved... Could it be that this is just routine for him?" Alfred disagreed and so the discussion continued. However, any plans they made to adress the situation were cut short when Dick got shot in the shoulder. (9/13)

Bruce tried not to feel guilty about firing Dick and then kicking him out of the manor. A little space would be good for the boy, right? For as long he could remember, Dick had always been just around the corner. It was safer this way. He ignored Alfred's angry, dissapointed gaze and Clark's furious demands to explain what the hell he'd been thinking. Batman didn't need a Robin, and Dick would be fine without Bruce. (Bruce would be fine without Dick.) Later, on patrol, there was a second where the comm crackled to life. Before anything could happen it got shut off again, and before Bruce knew it, Dick's check-ins were gone. Batman didn't need Robin. (10/13)

There was no missing Dick's sudden change. With the Titans, Dick's mother henning got turned up to an eleven. Dick was always somewhere in the tower helping someone, and no one could miss the way he was practicaly always asking if anyone needed anything. Missions and patrols ran mostly the same, but it was much more often that Dick could be found staying up late at night, going through evidence on cases he was working on. His friends did their best to be understanding, but there was no hiding the fact that Dick needed help. Real help. They urged him to talk about what was wrong, but even Dick seemed to be at a loss for what he was going through. "I mean, I got kicked out! What else is there to say?" He yelled one day. Roy tried to reason with him. "But there's MORE to it than-" "There isn't." "Dick, you've been acting off for months." "And I'll be FINE in a few more! I'm always fine. Stop worrying." (11/13)

Eventually, they did. After a few more missions, it was as if nothing ever happened. Dick worked as he normally would and he started running off to do his own things rather than hover around other people's projects. He still gave off a sense of brokeness but by then there wasn't much that anyone could do. There had been one week in particular, though, that things just seemed to... Shift. Dick had just discovered that Bruce adopted another kid in the newspapers and there were sightings of another Robin. For a second, he seemed furious, and they all remembered feeling VERY concerned for what the guy might do. For four days straight it was if he was too angry to talk. On the fifth day, Dick disappeared. He wasn't seen again until the next morning. "Dick, are you alright?" Something visibly settled in him and just like that, Dick was fine again. Still overbearing, but fine. (12/13)

Okay! That's all I have so far since I don't want to spam your inbox with any more text blocks for one idea. You probably noticed that this first part just goes over more HOW Dick behaved when he was younger. The second part to this will focus more on everyone realizing that Dick had some repressed trauma going on, and the consequences it's had on him for never adressing said trauma. (Also Bruce, you shouldn't have kicked your teenage son out of the house. That didn't help.) Some of Dick's coping mechanisms when it comes to dealing with Bruce will probably also be questioned, but with the time away from Bruce, don't worry- Dick will be more obviously independent. He knew he wasn't in the best place. I'll send you the second part whenever I get done with it, which shouldn't take too long. Thanks for being excited to read my head canon and ideas! (13/13)

hey babe. this is,,,,,,oh my god. i love it so much. well actually i hated it because it was full of angst and it made me feel emotions and AGH. but also i loved it and god i can’t wait for the next part. you have NO IDEA how much i need the next part.

also, can i just say? the fic portion itself (2-12) is 1.7k words long. with a little editing, this could be a full fledged fic you can post on ao3. you absolutely don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, that’s just an idea i’m throwing out there.

dick with separation anxiety sounds so so plausible, because that abrupt shift from living in a circus to wayne manor of all places must have been QUITE the shift. i really loved how you touched on all these different habits and quirks dick had growing up, and how those bled over into different relationships in his life. and i can’t wait to see how you resolve it.

and i have one more thing for you. this isn’t really the same idea but it’s got somewhat similar elements: i read a fic a while back about dick being touch starved. it seemed up your alley, and anyone else who liked reading this incredible drabble, i think you’ll enjoy reading it! touch starved by envysparkler.

#dick grayson #nightwing #dc #dick grayson headcanon #nightwing headcanon #dc headcanon #dick grayson fic #nightwing fic #dc fic

54 notes · View notes

escxpiism · 3 years

Text

triggers: drug use & drugging implications, suicidal ideation (and serious consideration!), grooming (especially july 4th!!!!!!!), kidnapping/captivity (ofc)

infection, not a phase

“ for all the times you let them bleed you, for a little peace from god you plead. ”

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

it would be a lie to say she hadn’t thought of luke’s untimely death time and time again. for all she had been told -- for the amount of times she’d been told she shouldn’t think of it as ‘untimely’ -- it remained degrees beyond difficult. he was, in many ways, her savior. but the thoughts and memories now resurfaced with a passion.

for what a terrible person she was. what she had done to repay him for the favor she had asked for. what she had done when he’d given her so much. when he’d risked himself for her.

june 13th, 2013 ; 8:43PM - 11:13 PM:

who could she turn to ? she couldn’t relent and go back, not after what anna said after allen finally took it too far. finally went past the point of no return. there was no more pretending he could love her, not after the shake’s confirmation. she couldn’t turn to a friend. they knew her friends far too well. she couldn’t turn to her boyfriend. they knew him far too well. they would all be the first and last places they would check -- assuming they would bother to check.

there was one person who she knew she could always seek refuge in. but whether he was accepting guests at that hour or not, caring for his ailing father as he was, was a gamble. but considering for too long would risk someone close to them seeing her. considering for too long would risk a return before she was truly ready. so, for the first time in years, she acted upon impulse.

rapping on the door, that familiar face came to open it. and she already saw concern in his eyes -- concern before she said anything. perhaps that was what tears generated. concern. empathy. there was a lingering pause before he finally broke the silence that she couldn’t bring herself to. “ do you need to come in ? ”

she nodded in response. need. perhaps he did know her as well as she hoped he did. after a moment’s consideration, she asked, “ am i... is your dad... ? ” and he shook his head. because he was concerned. whatever that meant, he was it.

“ no, he’s fine. he’s asleep. ” how many days of sleep did he have left ? his eyebrows furrowed, closing the door behind her. “ what... what happened ? ” and then, in the most responsible voice he could muster, “ why didn’t you go to one of your friends’ ? ”

“ that’s where they think i’m gonna be. she told me. ” and it would be easier, but she couldn’t admit defeat.

he huffed, frustrated with himself for his weakness. “ it’ll look bad if people find out i let a sixteen-year-old stay the night. ”

“ but, no -- they would have to understand. i... you didn’t have a choice -- i came to you, he hurt me. and it’ll -- it’ll just be tonight. i promise. ”

a pullout couch. blankets layered on top of each other. a sympathetic half-smile. sad. concerned. but who was he concerned for ?

“ thank you, luke. i promise -- i promise it’ll just be for the night. and i can... i can say i was in a park or something. ”

he nodded his head, that same sad smile plastered on his face. those same concerned eyes. a swollen heart. “ you know, i think you’d like santa monica. ” what beautiful parks his neighborhood possessed. he then offered a few pats, restraining himself. “ have sweet dreams, alice. ”

it was a pretty little disguise. a lozenge, wrapped in a pretty little pill ! it would be so easy. stay on that rooftop, drown in the bottle. finally be the fool who fell. or choke on her guilt as her breathing slowed beyond what she could control, allow her heart to sink in. she was there. right at the ledge of masters’ rooftop. sitting on it. legs dangling over the city. and they were in her hand. one... two... three... there could be more if she wanted.

how funny it would be. be the fool who finally falls, credit to the reason so many fools went up there in the first place. she set the bottle down. held the railing beside her with one hand, rings clanging against the metal.

august 29th, 2013 ; 3:47PM - 9:08PM:

she had gotten him wrong. beyond a wolf in sheep’s clothing -- everything off about him had always seemed nothing but endearing to her before. everything that made him a menace now simply made him so captivating before -- his penchant for keeping secrets. but what were the other secrets he kept ? who else had he had, dancing under his thumb ? who else had he enchanted, only to destroy in the end ? or was she special ? as he always said -- as she didn’t want to believe anymore. or maybe she did, but no longer for the same reason.

the keys had been dropped, a clang he didn’t notice beyond her yelling. to which he reminded her that no one could hear her. and no one was looking for her. because she was safe with him -- all reports she sent back implied safety. a wavering voice, perhaps, but one her sister wouldn’t recognize. not when they barely recognized each other’s regular voices ( something alice had tried to change one too many times, but to no avail -- if, by some miracle, she was found... what would be the use ? ) his back was turned, ever the warden in every sense of the word. but what good warden would drop the keys and not so much as realize it ?

although they were mere feet away, it was with great hesitation that she bent down to collect them. but it was with great primal urge that she rushed to him, to the door, and jammed the key inside. a click. freedom in sight. her only obstacle now in front of her, blocking her every move. overpowering her. taking her wrists as she tried with all her might to fight him. to push him out. but he stood like a rock.

“ i do everything for you. ” a calm statement. “ and this is how you repay me ? ” and it was with unfortunate ease that he forced her back into the cellar. recollected the keys. shook his head in disappointment -- disappointment in himself.

he disappeared. and how close she’d been... the closest she’d ever gotten. a collapse. how weak she was. every level -- too weak to fight through him, so weak she’d turned to him, so weak she’d let herself fall for him. so weak that he called her special. her first chance. her only chance.

...

some hours later ( she assumed ), he reentered. with a sigh, he extended an olive branch: a glass of water. and when she began fading ( this was new ), he began a slight spiel. “ i’m so sorry, alice... but you had to know this would be coming after a stunt like that. ” a promise to still shower. a promise to still take care of all necessities. but with something new, something important. “ i wish i didn’t have to do this. ”

and when she regained complete consciousness, one hand was cuffed to a metal pole within the cellar.

all hopes of escaping left her mind.

“ this is your life now. i’m sorry. ”

this wasn’t her life. this wasn’t the life she deserved. just as that wasn’t the ending he deserved. but perhaps this was the ending she deserved. a mess of broken bones, nearly unrecognizable. by the time they finally found the right person to identify her, be they one of her sisters or joey or phoenix or adri, it would be too late. they could only keep severed remains for so long -- or so she’d heard.

and pills may be too peaceful. falling asleep. not waking up. but watching death near her, watching it come straight to her from 600 feet or so. everything slowing down. her memories flashing. memories of him. memories of where she went wrong. memories of who she once was. memories of a life she once lived. memories that made her strong and memories that made her weak. memories of how everything started.

march 1st, 2013 ; 5:14PM - 5:24PM:

a neighborhood gala to ring in the honorary start of spring, a common one thrown by the adams. the show they put on was always beautiful. the perfect family, close on all fronts. for that one night, they were like the fantasy family sitcoms. she played the mini-mother, as did her sisters. they were all to act humble as their parents shared their latest achievements and accolades.

but there was a new face in the crowd this time.

“ as some of y’all may have noticed, richard wasn’t able to make it tonight. i know we’re all keeping him in our prayers... ” a moment of silence, as if he was already dead. “ but let’s all give a warm old welcome to his son and caretaker, luke johnson. he came in all the way from california just to help his dad and our friend, and if that ain’t the type of hospitality we’re looking for down here, i don’t know what is. ”

he smiled. he raised his champagne flute. he mouthed a ‘thank you’ as the inevitable clapping began. because to be introduced in such a fashion by anna adams was nothing short of an honor.

alice felt a draw to him. his silent charisma alone. and she did one thing she would always regret, for one reason or another: she walked towards him in his tan suit.

she, as she was taught in all etiquette courses, extended a hand. and he took it, shook it. and there was an immediate moment of connection.

“ i’m luke. ”

a laugh. “ i think everyone knows that after my ma’s introduction. it’s a real honor, y’know. ” she met his eyes. “ i’m alice. ”

so what was stopping her in that moment ? she’d done it before. she could do it again. and she could succeed. because, from so many feet above, there was no turning back. there was no stomach pump. there were no bandages and stitches. all there was was concrete and the onlookers of a city that never cared. from 600 feet or so above, there would not just be broken bones. there would not just be maiming. she was too close to the night sky for that.

she tilted forward, gaining a better view of the streets and all the passersby in the moonlight. the harmony of honking taxis and screaming pedestrians. the light show of times square somewhere in the distance and the neon sign of the adult shop that situated itself in front of the building. ‘open. 24 hours.’ it blinked, green and red.

july 4th, 2013 ; 7:45PM - 10:00PM:

“ i know you’ve got other traditions you’re used to, ” luke began, desperately attempting to spread out a picnic blanket, “ but i don’t think you’ve ever gotten to see fireworks from this high up, have you ? it can be a new one. ”

they didn’t have a cook-out. he just bought in-n-out. it wasn’t like home. and maybe there were aspects of home that she didn’t miss, but the annual neighborhood cook-out was one thing she truly did. even if she had to pretend her family was something it wasn’t, it was always so nice. mingling, talking to the neighbors, catching up, talking about the firecrackers ( and it was always the michaels’ kids setting them off, which was something to talk about all on its lonesome ! ). “ is this how you spend all your fourths ? ” she asked, turning to luke as he continued fighting the wind.

“ mhm. ” he nodded. “ usually i’m alone, though. ” he took a break from his battle with the wind to look her in the eyes and offer that same sad smile he had so many nights ago. “ i’m glad i’m not this year. ”

when he finally conquered the picnic blanket, punctuated by an ‘aha!,’ he was quick to set the bag on one corner and himself on the opposite. he patted the corner next to him and she took a seat. oh, how she would be lying if she said it wasn’t a beautiful view. so high up, she felt as though she was above the entire state.

she sighed, unsure whether it was one of disappointment or content. perhaps both. but, looking at the sky as the sun set, she met his eyes and mirrored his sad smile. “ i’m glad you’re not alone this year, too. ”

and there they sat, making idle chit-chat. how was work? how was your day? only a few more months until your birthday. wasn’t your birthday exactly a month ago? i know you miss your home, but this is for the best. i know you miss your dad, i’m sorry. what were your childhood fourth traditions? do you miss them? how did you find this place? when did you start coming up here? i’m glad i could share this with you. i’m glad i could be here.

9:45PM came with ease, barely realizing any time had passed since they first sat down. the crackles in the sky were their only hint that the show had started at all. “ you know what we do every year down back home ? ” alice asked, body facing luke, eyes facing the sky.

with an enchanted smile, he shook his head. “ no -- what is it ? ”

“ so, during the show, we’ll say something like ‘that next firework’s’ some neighbor’s name. ” she shrugged. “ it’s a little dumb, i know, but... it was always a fun way to pa- ”

“ this next firework is alice, ” he interrupted. green and red shot into the air, a quiet crack. “ like that ? ” he asked, turning back to her with a smile -- a real one.

she returned that real smile and nodded. “ like that. ”

“ you had a pretty firework, i’m a little bit jealous. ”

“ well... this next firework’s luke. ” and into the air went a loud blue and purple explosion. “ see ? you got a pretty firework too. ”

and into the night they went, naming fireworks after each other until the show was over. until they deemed the finale them.

if it were the daytime, perhaps she would have had an audience by now. she was putting on her very own show, wasn’t she ? after all, if she couldn’t go to prison for him, the least she could do was join him. why had she let him do it alone ? why had she taken the gun ? and why did it only have one bullet ? something so off about that single bullet.

october 26th, 2013 ; 7:11PM - 7:14PM:

she failed. she had chosen the keys in favor of his overdosed body. but what a good actor he had been. saline solution. just saline solution. ( or perhaps he was bad, but she was too out of it to realize. )

whatever the case, it had been some hours. maybe some days. before he reentered for anything other than the average schedule. open door. close. lock. tuck away. “ i need you to know that i’m not a monster, ” he prefaced, withdrawing a vinyl copy of stevie nicks’s ‘bella donna’. “ i’ll bring down the record player with dinner. ”

she cocked her head to the side. a gift. remorse ? perhaps. but he had done this before, and all she’d received was an apology.

“ i wouldn’t starve you out on your birthday. happy seventeenth. ”

march 10th, 2014 ; 11:09PM - 11:15PM:

the last date she remembered was christmas. she had lost count since. how many days, weeks, months it had been, she wasn’t sure. he would still take her out of the room for extended periods of time every now and again. and for that, she remained grateful. he would never let her leave. she knew that. but at least he created illusions.

the door opened. it did not lock. it did not close. he stood in the doorway. he walked over. she said nothing. he looked into her eyes. she saw sadness. she saw fear. she saw happiness. he was always hard to read.

he took the keys from his pocket and undid the handcuff. it was hard to process. a free hand. an open door. the only obstacle was, once again, him. but her automatic response was not to run. he set the keys down on the island. “ can you stand ? ”

she could. she did.

“ i know the end is near, and i don’t want you to remember me like... that. i want you to remember me like this, or like the guy i was when we watched the fireworks. do you remember that ? ” he began, that familiar sad smile accompanying his question. and she nodded. “ i’m going to close my eyes and stay here for ten seconds. do whatever you need to do, ” he stated, sliding the keys in her direction before covering his eyes and beginning to count down from ten.

this was her chance. her first, true chance. she slowly slid the keys off the table, taking five of the numbers in his countdown to do so. but she didn’t move any further. why didn’t she move any further ? it was as though she was paralyzed from the waist down. would she miss this ? would she miss him ? was this truly all she knew now ?

was this her life now ?

when he uncovered her eyes, saw her still standing there, that sad smile returned. “ you should’ve gone, alice... but thank you. ” he gently took the keys from her again. “ i’m sorry, ” he stated as he attached the handcuff again. “ i’ll make a good breakfast tomorrow. ”

and she slid down the pole, unsure of what had just happened. but as he tucked the keys back in his pocket, she heard them clang against another piece of metal.

there weren’t just two obstacles.

there was only one obstacle now. but it was one she always had such difficulty beating. she could never get her feet to move when she wanted them to, not when it was important. so there she remained, the very edge of the ledge, feet against the side of the building. one push off. one stretch of her legs.

another ‘pill.’ round it out. numb it. move forward. an inch away. perhaps she can be seen now. perhaps she would be like those movies. a crowd gathers in morbid curiosity. everyone both does and does not want her to fall.

and how close she was. until the nightshift remembered the roof. and there was a comprehensive list of people she would always refuse to traumatize: one of whom was sal.

#grooming tw #suicidal ideation tw #drugs tw #kidnapping tw #<- but what else is new!#v dark. v dark.#alice .#alice | sp !#ANYWAY [THIS IS] WHAT U MISSED ON GLEE!#sal. mvp.#so. i looked it up. and apparently the average skyscraper is ~500ft #i imagine masters is a lil taller but!#q !#<- this para so Big im nervous 2 simply Post Her™

7 notes · View notes

nalgenewhore · 4 years

Text

With My Life - Chapter Seven

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

warnings: (all graphic) violence, guns, blood, smut, implied PTSD

an: hmmm.....hm. enjoy !

Elide didn’t know how to ask the question that had been bothering her ever since Lorcan had been back.

She thought she knew the answer, but asking him might ease her worries, might soothe her frayed nerves.

Lorcan was downstairs, talking with his lawyer on the phone. Manon was decidedly unimpressed with him and Elide had laughed when she heard the golden-eyed woman berate him for his ‘big, rutting mess’ that she was now tasked with cleaning up, so to speak.

There wasn’t a doubt in either of their minds that Elide would stay in what was now their apartment. Neither Elide nor Lorcan were keen on living apart now or ever.

With a steadying breath, Elide walked downstairs, determination in her every step. Lorcan glanced up at her and paused, his eyes narrowed as he read her posture and expression. His shoulders tensed slightly and he said to Manon, “M, I don’t really have to be here, right?”

He winced and Elide smirked at what was surely a severe beatdown from Manon, but eventually, Lorcan sighed and nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I know. No more disappearing and being assumed dead, I get it. Thank you, really.” He choked slightly, “Well, fuck you too, Blackbeak, you’re useless. I never want to see your face again. Bye.”

“Fun talk?” Elide quipped, crossing the floor to the island and taking the seat opposite his. Lorcan huffed a halfway amused laugh and tossed his phone on the counter, bracing his elbows against the marble and dropping his head in his hands.

“Nobody ever tells you that coming back from the dead is a pain in the ass. So much paperwork,” he muttered, sighing through his nose once before he stood up and walked over to the coffee pot. Elide hummed and propped her chin in her hand, smiling at him when Lorcan walked over with a mug for her and placed it in front of her.

He kissed her forehead before sitting down on the barstool next to hers and taking a sip of his coffee, “So. What’s going on?”

Elide shrugged, wrapping her cold hands around her mug and sighing softly. Her dark-haired love laughed and put his cup down, then took her hands and cupped them in his warm ones, “Still got the cold hands, huh, princess?”

She smiled and nodded, her heart fluttering when he rubbed heat back into her digits, waiting for her to speak. “E, I know you’re thinking about something,” Lorcan murmured, glancing pointedly at the furrow between her brows. “What is it?”

Elide glanced down at her bare legs, pale skin dotted with purple marks and tender fingerprints. “What are you gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“For work,” she asked, her voice so quiet Elide half-wondered if Lorcan had even heard it.

But he had and Lorcan sat up, unconsciously drawing back to protect himself. “Same job. I’m going in for testing tomorrow, seven o’clock.” He knew what her reaction would be. He knew why she was sitting up, her posture immaculate and frozen. He knew why she pulled her chilled fingers from his.

Tears were already caught in her lashes, her slender eyes filling with them. Lorcan saw the way she tried to stop her lower lip from trembling and he ached to reach out, to warm her up, just so that she would stop shaking, but he didn’t. He restrained himself, to let her have this lost moment, where nothing made sense.

“You’re going back?” she whispered, voice aghast and cracked.

Lorcan breathed in deeply, feeling helpless as silver tears slipped down her cheeks and dropped onto her thighs. “Yes.”

Elide shook her head, dismissing it as false. So quickly, she switched, becoming the detached scientist she was in her work. She wiped her cheeks, sniffling once, “No, that doesn’t make any sense, Lorcan. You got hurt.” She said it bluntly, as if ripping the band-aid off would make it less scary, but it didn’t. “I thought- we all thought you were dead and we mourned for you.”

“I met my family there, Elide. The people I love and people I would do anything to protect,” Lorcan stated calmly, his voice a touch too even. “They’re my family.”

“What about me then. Am I not good enough to be your family, do you not love me, not want to protect me as much?”

“No. No,” he said, his brows lowering fiercely. Lorcan gripped her chin, gently tugging her face upwards until she met his gaze. “Princess, you mean the fuckin’ world to me. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone and ever will love.”

Elide cried, her face crumpling, “I’m scared.” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face into his shoulder. “Please, think about it. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” Lorcan murmured, rubbing her back slowly.

“I want you to quit,” she mumbled, feeling small and pathetic.

“I can’t do that.”

Elide would never make him quit something he loved, so all she could do, when her heart was raw and sore, was climb into his lap and hold onto him tightly.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

She looked so peaceful, sleeping in what was now their bed. Sprawled across the mattress, the deep black duvet twisted around her from her erratic sleeping pattern.

Lorcan silently punched in the pin code for the hidden compartment in the back of his closet, wincing at the click and hiss as it unlocked and popped open, revealing an array of weapons. They were all neatly laid out in foam, perfectly fitting in the padding.

He pulled out two Berettas, having lost his preferred Glocks on the day he was shot. The tribe women had never told him where they had put them, but Lorcan knew they would’ve been ruined by the river anyway.

Elide was still sleeping as he slid them into his holsters and grabbed two sheathed blades, pulling them out to test the balance. He smiled at the perfectness of it all, putting one on the tip of his finger and watching it remain completely flat.

Lorcan put the knives into the holster next to each gun and then pushed the compartment shut. He stood, buttoning his suit jacket and grabbing his overcoat after seeing that it was raining again.

He checked his watch, noting the time of 5:36AM and deciding he should leave within the next ten minutes if he wanted a chance to warm up and tape his shoulder before testing.

Lorcan walked out of his closet and crossed over to Elide’s sleeping form.

The city lights played across the smooth curve of her regal cheekbone and the pert button of her nose. Elide rolled onto her back, murmuring something low.

Lorcan knew he should have woken her up to tell her he was leaving, but she looked too peaceful, so fragile that all he could do was kiss her forehead and walk away.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

He rolled his eyes as he stalked through the hallway, narrowing his gaze at the boys. “Boys, fine morning we’re having, is it not?”

Vaughan snorted and jerked his head at Rowan, “It’s his fault.”

Their leader of sorts scowled at the back of Vaughan’s head and pushed him out of the way on his path to Lorcan. “We always come in early.”

Lorcan stifled his laughter and walked into the changeroom, making a beeline to his locker. As he unlocked it, he commented, “For a spy, you’re a really shit liar, Ro-Ro.”

They all laughed as Rowan groaned at Lorcan’s use of his dreaded nickname, crossing his arms over his chest and muttering, “I play truth or dare one fucking time. And I told you wankstains we were wasted.”

Connall snickered and they bickered as Lorcan changed into a pair of shorts. It was Fenrys who noticed his wound first and the man’s demeanor dampened, shame flicking over his eyes. He cleared his throat, “I, uh, I have to do something.” Without another word, he made to leave, but Lorcan stopped him.

“I need someone to tape my shoulder and I don’t trust any of them to do it right.” He picked up the roll of athletic tape in his locker, holding it out to Fenrys.

The room went dead silent and it was almost comical, watching Connall, Vaughan, and Rowan swivel their heads back and forth to see if Fenrys would accept it. Lorcan had no grudge against him - he was doing his job and something went wrong.

Fenrys took it and motioned for Lorcan to sit. The others gawked until Fenrys shot them a hard look and they quickly found other things to be interested in. Lorcan stretched his shoulder, grimacing at the strain, most likely from the weekend’s… activities. “So, Ro, you’re gonna be a dad.”

Rowan choked at the bluntness, obviously nervous, “Y-yeah.”

Lorcan arched a brow, batting Fenrys’ hand away from his head. “Well, you seem excited for that.”

The silver-haired man swallowed, raking a hand through his hair so that it stuck up in every which way. “I never thought it would be this hard.”

“Her being pregnant?” Vaughan asked, moving on silent feet - he’d always been best at the noiseless approach - to stand behind Lorcan and fix his hair. Lorcan trusted Vaughan with his hair more so than any other being on the planet after having been raised together and calling him his brother since before they could talk.

Rowan shook his head and sat down heavily on the bench opposite Lorcan’s, his elbows braced against his thighs. “Not being able to tell her.”

They all froze, except for Fenrys, who started to tape Lorcan’s shoulder as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re not thinking of telling her, right?” Connall asked, words dripping in horrification. The things that could and would happen if a civilian, no matter who, were to find out what they did, how many times their jobs had saved people’s lives would ruin the country.

Rowan didn’t answer.

“Ro–”

“I’m not gonna fucking tell her! Just, fuck, you guys don’t get it–” Fenrys shook his head, but he bit his tongue. Rowan glared at him, “Something you wanna say, Marama?”

“Rowan, shut up. You’re not the only person in this room with someone they love. You aren’t the only person keeping secrets either, so stop acting like you didn’t know what you were signing up for,” Fenrys said, words clipped and his brow lowered. “We have the same job, Rowan, and lives of our own.”

Rowan’s mouth dropped open and he looked to the others, trying to garner sympathy or support in his opinion. No one dared to meet his eye except for Lorcan, who cocked his head to the side and sucked on his teeth.

Just as Rowan was about to say something he’d come to regret, the door opened and they all whipped their heads to the side, their postures easing when they saw Nehemia.

Her smile froze and she narrowed her eyes, her gaze landing on Rowan and staying. “We have an assignment, boys. Are we prepared for that?”

They all mumbled their assent and slowly got up, dutifully exiting the room under Nehemia’s disapproving glare. She had obviously picked up on the tension and the cloud of uncomfortability that had settled over them. Knowing them as well as she did, the cyber analyst wouldn’t put up with their stupid bullshit and whatever childish entanglement they were caught in.

Lorcan pulled his shirt on and closed his locker, pausing when he looked over his shoulder and saw his friend standing there. “What is it?”

Nehemia couldn’t hide the apprehension in her eyes as she said, “She wants you there too.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

They were all dressed in full tactical uniforms, standing at attention as Maeve read the report.

“Erawan and his cult are a much larger threat and we have reason to suspect they are receiving a shipment of arms within the next week. This man,” Maeve gestured to the man on the screen behind her, “has the specificities and your task is to acquire the information.” She cast a glance towards Lorcan, “Salvaterre, I suppose with your injury, you’ll be surveillance.”

She snapped the folder shut and slid it across the table to Rowan, who picked it up, a quizzical look on his face. “Apologies, ma’am, but are you expecting Salvaterre to be on this mission as well?”

Maeve looked up, her manicured brows raising as she clasped her hands on the desk, “Is there a reason he should be exempt?”

Lorcan clenched his jaw, but refused to meet her mocking gaze as the rest of the room opened their mouths. Rowan spoke up for them, “Ms. Nathair, Salvaterre has been gone for the past six months. Protocol states he needs a physical and psych exam before he’s cleared as a field agent.”

“Protocol? The five of you have the most dangerous job in the world and you’re hung up on protocol?” she mocked them, a cruel smirk curling her thin lips. “Salvaterre.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Are you in need of an exam?”

Fear coursed through him and still, Lorcan shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

“Are you able to do your job?”

His shoulder said no but Lorcan nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. I’ll schedule your exams for tomorrow if the mission goes well. That is all.”

They turned and walked out of the room, going down a complicated set of hallways and stairs to the prep room. Lorcan picked out surveillance equipment as Rowan and Fenrys changed into street clothes.

Connall and Nehemia sat at their desk, typing on their computers and instructing their teams. Vaughan approached Lorcan, speaking in their mother tongue, “Lorcan, are you sure?”

“Yes.”

His brother sighed, unease clear on the sharp features of his face, “I don’t like this.”

Lorcan could only shrug. Vaughan muttered something, knowing he wouldn’t be able to convince Lorcan otherwise. He made to leave, stopping when Lorcan asked him something, “Did you name me?”

Vaughan looked at Lorcan over his shoulder, too many emotions swimming in his eyes for Lorcan to discern them all. “Yes.”

“What was it?”

“I named you Ohitekah.”

Lorcan’s throat closed and he nodded once, pride for their people glowing in his chest.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan stewed silently as he nursed his weak coffee, holding back his grimace at the grainy texture.

He kept his eyes on Fenrys and Rowan as they walked down the street, tailing their target as he ducked into a grocery store.

Connall’s voice came over the comms once in a while, but nothing was directed to Lorcan. Fuck, he was so bored, sitting in the diner and watching.

Reasoning with himself, Lorcan decided he had stayed in the diner long enough that it aroused suspicion, so he got up, paid for his coffee, and left.

“Salvaterre, where the fuck are you going?”

He responded calmly, “There’s an alley next to the grocery store.” Lorcan looked up and down the street before walking across. He subtly checked behind him to ensure nobody was following him and that he could slip into the alley.

A pile of pallets hid him from the back door of the store and Lorcan leaned against the wall, fishing out his phone to pretend he was taking a call as he watched. “In position with clear sight of back exit.”

Rowan’s voice crackled in the radio, “I lost him. He’s heading towards the back - I’m in pursuit. Fen, meet L in the alley.”

Lorcan pocketed his phone and made sure he had clear access to his gun. Time ticked by slowly and every second had his spine straightening just a bit more, until it looked like he would snap.

The door burst open and the target ran out, fearfully looking over his shoulder and not paying attention as Lorcan stepped into his path and the man crashed.

His reflexes were quick though, and he didn’t let Lorcan have the advantage as they fought. Lorcan’s shoulder immediately protested, shooting sharp pains down his arm. Despite that, the target was no match for him and just as quickly as it had started, Lorcan had him on the ground, a hand holding his face against the rough asphalt and a knee keeping his hands behind his back.

Lorcan felt his nose drip blood, courtesy of the punch he’d received in the short scuffle, and he breathed past the pain in his body, cursing Maeve for all she was.

Feet pounded against the road and Fenrys ran in, giving Lorcan the chance to stand up and stumble back, startling when Rowan appeared in front of him, steadying him with a hand on his right shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah, just a little blood. Don’t worry.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

He was close to blacking out as he walked into his apartment, his vision blurry and breathing shaky. Immediately, he saw Elide sitting on the couch, her short hair clipped up to keep it dry in the shower, he assumed based off the fact that she was wearing his housecoat. “El.”

She whipped her head around, a deadly glare on her face, “Oh, you’re back? You didn’t die?”

He really, really should’ve woken her up that morning. Lorcan closed his eyes, leaning against the wall, “Princess, I’m sorry, but I need- fuck, I need help.” After returning to headquarters, Lorcan had gone to the bathroom and discerned that miniscule pieces of the bullet were still lodged under his flesh.

Elide’s eyes widened and she hopped up, hurrying over to him. His skin was clammy and cold to the touch, “Anneith above, what happened?”

“Bathroom,” he breathed, leaning on Elide as he stumbled into the bathroom and sat down on the floor, his back against the sink cabinet. “Get the vodka.”

He hadn’t realised she had even left before Elide returned with the bottle, taking her own sip before handing it to him. “L, what happened.”

He chugged for a solid five seconds, pausing to say, “I was shot six months ago,” and drinking again. Lorcan’s limbs felt fuzzy as he ripped off his jacket and shirt, throwing them into the corner. “Bullet’s not all out and,” he swallowed, taking her hand and gripping it tightly, “I need you to do it.”

She gaped at him, eyes wide like saucers. “Lorcan, what? Why didn’t they fucking take it out the first time!”

“I don’t- shit, I don’t know but I can’t fucking take it and I can’t go back there,” he whispered, head falling back against the cabinet door. “Too many questions. I’ll fucking talk you through it, just please.”

Elide didn’t look convinced as she glanced between his face, eyes glazed in agony, and he tried again, “Please, baby, it hurts.”

She nodded, pressing her hand over the scar, “Yes, just- tell me what to do.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Do it.”

“I’m doing it.”

“No, you’re not.” Lorcan was watching her carefully, like she wasn’t holding a knife over his skin. “I told you - I trust you with my life.”

Elide snapped her head up, glaring, “There is a difference between a straight razor and cutting bullet fragments out of you, Lorcan.”

He somehow had the audacity to chuckle and lean forward, pressing his lips to her forehead in an effort to soothe her. Elide had to, begrudgingly, admit that it worked a bit. “You got this, yeah? I can barely feel a thing.”

Elide nodded and took a deep breath before turning back to the task. With the tip of the knife, she made an incision, pressing white gauze against it to soak the blood that dripped down. Her hands were surprisingly steady as she used the tweezers to pick the metal bit out. Lorcan hissed, biting his lip to stop his groan of pain.

She blinked her tears back, wanting to run away from this. Elide carefully put the piece in the plastic bag and continued, cutting and tweezing until every part was out.

Lorcan was barely conscious when she cleaned the wounds and sealed it. Elide brushed his hair back from his forehead and let him be as she tidied up the supplies and dumped everything in the garbage.

Elide turned back to Lorcan, who was looking at her with a proud expression, his lips pulled into a small smile, “C’mere, princess.” She rolled her eyes at the nickname, but went to him, sighing in relief the moment she was curled up in his arms, head tucked beneath his chin. “You did good.”

“Mm, really? Beginner’s luck?”

He laughed drily, “We’ll have to see about that next time.”

Elide shook her head, suddenly feeling like the bathroom was the only safe space in the world, “I don’t want there to be a next time.” She pressed her face in Lorcan’s neck, her tears dripping down her cheeks. “Promise me there won’t be a next time.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Elide,” Lorcan murmured, dragging his hand up and down her thigh in a soothing pattern. “All I can give you is my honesty.”

Elide wrapped her arms around his neck and cried silently, wondering if there would be a day when honesty wasn’t enough.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse e @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @lovemollywho @queen-of-glass @jlinez @sleeping-and-books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @verypaleninja @januarystears @magicalunicorngypsy

#with my life #wml chapter seven #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #oooohhh shit's getting real boys #omg but actually we're almost at the PLOT plot u kno

109 notes · View notes

with-love-anu · 4 years

Text

The new neighbour 5

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader

Series Masterlist

Over the next few days, things seemed to come back to normal. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t possibly stop talking to Sirius. He was like the air you breathed, needed; it was so natural being around him. You were painfully aware how Sirius tried his best not to flirt with you. You brain reminded you over and over again that it was better this way, but your heart wept for him to do it again; to make you blush like he used to, to wrap the arm around your waist, warming you. James had mentioned it subtly one day that nothing had happened between Sirius and the girl other than the kiss. You had started to feel like Sirius did not make that big of a mistake; that he wasn’t toying with you. You talked to bunny about it telling him what James mentioned and what Sirius said leaving the apartment.

“He said what?”

“That for a moment he thought I was showing Dave the lingerie.” Bunny heaved a sigh.

��Fangs, I think he assumed you were sleeping with him.”

“What?!?”

“Well, when he came by your house that day did he see Dave?”

“No. I think Dave was in the room seeing the design and he complimented me on using the correct lingerie for the ad. Oh my god, did he think I was sleeping with him?”

“Maybe, I mean, before that he was all about you, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

After that talk, you made more efforts not to avoid him. You smiled at him like you used to, started talking to him more and more but somehow the ache was still there. Because no matter how hard you try how you could ever forget what happened? It was there at the back of your mind, every single time Sirius eyes had that gleam he did before he flirted with you; only to disappear after a few seconds. You were reminded of it every time when Sirius sat next to you but not so close for you to put your head on his shoulder, or for him to wrap his arm around you. You wanted him too.

***

Sirius did not know what to do. He was falling more and more in love with you. His heart leaped whenever he saw you. He was scared. Scared that someday, he might just let slip what he always thought, things that kept him awake at night. The want to kiss you, to hold you, to call you his. He sensed the moment when something changed in you, making you open up to him again. He didn’t care what it was, he was thankful. He was happy. He got to be around you more, to talk to you. And somehow, that felt enough for now.

It was Friday. Sirius, Remus, James and you were in your apartment; eating some spicy noodles from the local joint. There was a knock on the door and you frowned. Remus was up and went to open the door.

“Yes?” he asked politely.

“This 18 B, right? I’m here to see (Y/n)” a gruff flappy voice came, and you raised your eyebrows. You immediately got up moving towards the door.

“Bunny?” you whispered as your eyes widened. “BUNNY!!!” You screamed launching yourself into his arms as he held you tightly. He laughed and you couldn’t keep the grin off your face.

Sirius felt his heart fall seeing the scene play before him. He clenched his jaw. He felt himself getting angry, wanting nothing more than to pull the two of you apart from the tight embrace which neither of you seemed to want to break. He forced a smile. He had no right to do or say anything.

“I take it, you missed me?” he said, making you smile and you turned towards others.

“Everyone, this is Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Remus, James and Sirius.” You introduced, as slowly everyone shook hands and met him.

Sebastian kept his bags in a corner and settled on a small couch. He started to tell about himself and his travels and you couldn’t stop smiling. It was such a long time since you actually saw him. Somewhere deep in your mind, you’d always considered him family.

Sirius’s jaw ticked as he watched you. He hated how much attention you gave him. He scolded himself. You had told him about Sebastian. Your best friend, the companion you found when you were lost, couldn’t figure yourself out. He knew there was nothing more, but seeing you with him; that did things to him. He knew he was getting angry over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. Not when all you did was smile at your bunny.

Sebastian stayed for 2 days, 2 excruciating days for Sirius. He would see you with him all the time, it was as if you both were attached to the hip.

You on the other hand, couldn’t be happier. James, Remus and Sirius had decided to join you and bunny. You laughed, chatted and danced. Bunny’s open and welcoming personality did wonders on James and Remus. They quickly became very good friends. As for Sirius, you could see that he did not like bunny at all yet, acted like he did. And you appreciated that, it made you melt a little. You all went together with him, touring around the city. You went to the peak points for sunrise and sunset, famous food joints and clubs. As Sunday night approached, you felt your heart constrict a little. Bunny was leaving. You decided you would accompany him to the airport. You both sighed walking towards the check in point. Bunny took a deep breath.

“He is in love with you.” He said turning towards you.

“What?”

“Sirius. Sirius is head over heels for you.” Your smile dropped.

“Don’t say that. Don’t give me hope.”

“I know I’ll regret not saying it. I’ve travelled to so many countries, met millions of people, Fangs. I can see it. I see it in his eyes. They sparkle when you enter the room. He appreciates your work, respects you as a person. He gave me side glances as long as I stayed. He was so very jealous. Remember when we went to the club?” he asked and you nodded.

“You were dancing and he looked at you as you were the most precious thing in the world. There were about 10 girls and boys who did come by to flirt with him, but he didn’t so much notice them. If I were in your place, I’d give him another chance. Think about it, okay? Don’t let him go. Mistakes happen, you cannot take them with you to the grave. He maybe a player before, but now, not so much.” He said and leant down to kiss your cheek.

“Take care Fangs. And call me.” He said and turned to leave. You waved at him as he crossed the check in point and gave him a smile.

***

It was Lily’s birthday. You all had planned a surprise birthday party at your house. Marlene and Dorcas were in charge of the cake and sending out invites, Frank was bringing drinks and Kingsley was bringing the snacks. You, James, Remus and Sirius were in charge of decorating the house, ordering pizza, making a good song playlist. Everything was done; the house looked fantastic, the pizza was ordered and would arrive at 8. You dressed up, wearing a (Y/F/C) dress that highlighted your curves perfectly, showing off what you thought was best about you and hiding the parts you were insecure about. You locked the bedroom door, keeping the guest bedroom and the room with your art and writing table open; just in case someone needed a breather.

Everyone had arrived; Remus and James were bringing Lily. You tried to meet as many new people as possible and tried to stand as far as possible from Sirius. He was surrounded by what seemed like his fan club, who laughed and enjoyed everything he said. You couldn’t. You knew if you went there you would slap at least one of those irritating girls. Sirius noticed this of course. He saw your expression change as soon as Reese came in with an extra sway of hips and started flirted with him shamelessly. He smiled to himself observing every glance you send towards him. His phone rang and he saw Remus's number.

He shouted, garnering everyone’s attention.

“James and Remus are in the elevator with Lily. So please be silent until Lily comes in and yes, clear the entrance.” He said as everyone backed away. You went towards the door quietly opening it and saw James directing a blind-folded Lily out of the elevator and into the house. James removed the blind-fold and everyone screamed surprise and Lily jumped in happiness.

Lily cut the cake as everyone sang the birthday song and you all covered her face in piping cream.

The party was in full swing. People chatted, ate, danced and had fun. The song suddenly changed to a romantic one and James kneeled in front of Lily asking her for a dance. She giggled and blushed heavily, giving him her hand.

Soon various couples joined in, slow dancing to the rhythm. You moved your gaze through the room looking at people so in love with each other when your eyes met his. He was staring at you and you suddenly felt all air leave your lungs. Sirius couldn’t hear what the person near him was saying. He came towards you, eyes never leaving yours. He offered you his hand and took you towards the area where everyone danced. He slipped his hand around your waist, and you felt yourself melt; him touching you for the first time since what felt like ages. You slipped your hands behind his neck, just dancing to the slow tune looking at him. His face wore such a soft expression, you wanted to capture it, stop time, before the moment ended. The song finished and neither of you noticed.

“(Y/n)-” Sirius started to say but was stopped by Remus who called out for you.

“(Y/n), pizza’s here! You have the screenshot of the order right?” Remus asked and you heaved a sigh and looking at Sirius. He gave you a small disheartened smile and you knew he felt the same. You were interrupted. Again.

You went to Remus and the delivery guy, going through the procedures. You and Remus took the pizzas and started placing them on the side table, opening up four. You placed napkins, as everyone started to come in to take a slice. Excusing yourself, you searched for Sirius. Your flicked eyes through the crowd of people. You couldn’t see him anywhere. You saw a small light coming from art and work room open and you went in to inspect. You opened the door and saw Sirius looking at a painting, more specifically, his painting.

He turned towards you, and you didn’t know what to say. You stood near him watching him move his hand across the canvas.

“You made this.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You breathed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, your hair. You were driving me crazy. I-“ you voice broke off as he crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss. You tangled your hands in his hair, as he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer. You moaned as he nibbed on your lower lip, as he gasped, pulling back looking at you. You pulled him back in, kissing him. You looped your arm around his neck and fixed your eyes on his, blushing.

“(Y/n), be mine?” Sirius said and you smiled.

“Depends, will you be mine?” you asked giggling and he shut you with another kiss.

“Darling, my heart’s been yours since the second you told me you wouldn’t sell me encyclopedias.”

A/N: And it’s done! Tell me whether you enjoyed it. I sure did love writing it! Thoughts on an epilogue?

#sirius #Sirius Black #sirius x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius imagine #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #Anu writes #The new neighbour

189 notes · View notes

kaibutsushidousha · 3 years

Text

Cat, Ghost, and Revolution Sunday (Sagrada Reset 1) - Chapter 1: Starting on Sunday (part 2)

[INDEX]

Upon hearing the sound of the opening door, Asai Kei checked the café's clock. 9:55. Exactly 5 minutes before the agreed time.

Kei stood up, looking at the entrance. Haruki also stood up from the seat next to his. A girl with red glasses entered through the door.

She looked around the café with a serious expression and walked toward Kei.

"Hello. Are you Murase?"

She raised her eyebrow a little in response to the question but quickly nodded.

(Her expression is stiff. Not sure if she's wary of us or just nervous. I should soften up my smile.)

"Nice to meet you. My name is Asai Kei. And she is Haruki Misora."

After hearing that, the girl, Murase Youka, tried to smile. Her expression didn't get any less stiff, but at least she managed to lift the corners of her lips. On the other hand, her eyes were glaring intensely from behind the lenses. Kei paused for a second to think about the meaning of her gaze but decided he shouldn't be getting attached to first impressions. He focused on his own smile.

She spoke, intentionally trying to contain her voice.

"Hello. My name is Murase Youka. Tsushima told me a lot about you two."

Tsushima Shintarou was a teacher in Kei's school, Ashiharabashi High School. He was also a member of the Management Bureau. Every school in the city had a teacher like him. Just like how every school has a teacher licensed to operate the infirmary. They need to be prepared since ability-related incidents can happen in schools.

Kei and Haruki went to meet Murase by Tsushima's orders. However, all he told them about her was her name and age. He clearly remembered that she is one year older than them. From that, he could assume she was a high schooler, but he had no idea which school she attended.

Murase whispered fast.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this kind of thing."

Kei responded with a smile.

"Neither we are, honestly."

It's very rare for them to learn about their tasks from anyone other than Tsushima.

"Let's sit down before we talk", said Kei. He had stood up without much thought because he felt it would be in bad taste to greet someone from his chair, but he didn't know when was the best time to sit down again.

The waiter came to take their orders and Murase just uttered the word "coffee". Kei added ice cream to his order.

After the waiter left, Murase spoke in a quiet voice.

"Asai, you're a high schooler, right?"

"Yes. I'm a freshman."

"Why are you working for the Bureau?"

Kei reacted to the question with an ambiguous smile.

"Because I'm part of a club dedicated to helping their operations."

"The Service Club."

"Yes."

The Ashiharabashi High School Service Club. Every school in Sakurada has a Service Club and they are all supervised by the teacher from the Bureau.

The Bureau monitors people with special abilities. Technically, every ability is special, but the Bureau's tight surveillance is dedicated especially to the potentially dangerous abilities.

Joining a Service Club was one way to soften that surveillance, even if not by much. The teacher responsible for it gives them jobs according to their abilities and demands detailed reports of how they handled their missions. By filling a report form, the club members would be exempt from a few necessary steps of the regular management, gaining a certain degree of freedom.

"Not the nicest name, don't you agree?", said Murase.

"What name?"

"Service Club, what else?"

"Oh, of course. I'm quite fond of it, actually."

Kei's answer cut the conversation short. Murase didn't know what to say next. After a while, Kei asked:

"Could you explain what's happening? What do you want us to do?"

"He didn't explain anything?"

Her voice was strong, with small hints of annoyance. "Tsushima didn't tell you anything about my request?", she corrected herself in a much calmer tone.

(She's not very used to talking to strangers, isn't she?)

He had received a very simple explanation about his task.

"He told us we'll search for a lost cat. But that felt a bit off since he should have people better equipped to handle this job."

"He said you two were experts in finding things."

(Only if you lost it recently, I guess.)

"When did your cat disappear?"

"About one week ago."

(That's too late. What a shame, this would have gone without a hitch if you had lost it precisely 3 days ago.)

Murase softly closed her eyes and continued with a dark expression.

"But I'm not exactly looking for the cat. I found it last morning. I found it on a neighboring roadside."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"When I found the cat, it was already cold."

(I don't like the way she worded this. "Already cold.")

"Was it a car accident?"

"Yes."

Kei got the gist of his mission. He also understood why Tsushima phrased it as a "search for a cat".

He moved his eyes back to Murase, seeing she was also looking at him. The same glare as always. He noticed her eyes had been like this ever since she sat down. Her overall face changed to express her emotions, but her eyes were fixed, always facing forward. Never lowered, never raised. Those were eyes that could never find a rainbow.

Murase spoke in a firm tone.

"I hired you to revive a dead cat."

That was a very difficult request. As far as Kei could tell, no one in Sakurada had the ability to revive the dead, be it a human or a cat. That said, it's still true that Kei and Haruki were a good pick for this job.

"Got it."

"Can you do it?"

"Revive it? No. But we can undo his its death."

"Really?"

Murase didn't smile. She didn't look relieved. Kei confirmed her pressing glare was still daring him to do it.

Kei answered her question with another question.

"Why do you want to save the cat?"

"I just want my cat back. Is there any problem with that?"

"No, that's a perfectly valid reason."

He never planned to reject Tsushima's request.

He turned to Haruki, who was sitting next to him. She was playing with the black cat keychain attached to her phone, showing no signs of interest in Murase's story. It was always like this. Kei was in charge of all the conversations.

He held back on this urge to sigh. He turned back to Murase and tried his best to look serious.

"Do you have the resolve to kill three days worth of the world for this cat?"

There's no point in asking this question. Kei only did it to feel clever. After all, she would lose her memories of this conversation very soon.

Murase raised her eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Today, yesterday, and the day before might be undone to save your cat. Do you have the resolve to force every person in the world to redo the past three days one more time?"

Murase paused to think for a while. The waiter brought the coffee and the ice cream while she did.

After waiting for the waiter to walk away, Murase gave a short answer.

"I do."

Kei ate a spoonful of ice cream.

"Then please tells us about your cat."

She told the cat was originally a street cat, until Murase Youka adopted it about half a year ago. It was a kitten at the time, but it quickly grew up. It was a crossbreed male. Its name was Calico.

Murase had a photo of the cat on her phone. Kei asked for her contact information so she could send him the photo. A soot gray cat with a crooked tail was eating under the shade of a street lamp. The cat didn't look too amiable, but Kei thought that only made it cuter. He died yesterday, ran over by a car in a commercial district. She found its body around 9:15 in front of a bakery.

After giving all the basic information, she thanked them in advance and stood up. She walked away, leaving behind the hot coffee cup she only touched once.

"What are we going to do?", asked Haruki.

Kei answered while trying to get a spoon of his mostly melted ice cream.

"We'll save the cat, of course. It's an official job, and I like cats, too. I can't find any reason to refuse."

If everything went right, the cat would be brought back to life, the girl who only looked forward would be happy, and the Ashiharabashi High Service Club's reputation would improve, potentially leading to a rise in their budget. A Service Club's budget was close to a part-time salary. They could use it for pretty much anything they wanted, as long as they remembered to get a receipt.

Haruki waited for him to finish enjoying his ice cream before she talked.

"But didn't this request feel any strange to you?"

"What part of it was weird?"

"First off, the goal of the mission. The Bureau wouldn't get involved unless the cat was killed by an ability, would they?"

"You're completely right."

The Management Bureau acts exclusively on problems caused by abilities. Things would easily get out of hand if they got involved in every problem that ever happened.

"Second, the request happened too soon after the accident."

"Yeah. I agree."

It was still mid-afternoon of the previous day when Tsushima gave them the order to meet Murase. According to her, the accident happened on the same day's morning. That would mean she contacted the Bureau, got her case approved, and transferred to Tsushima in merely a couple of hours. This was unnaturally fast.

"And considering this, what are we going to do?", Haruki asked again.

"We'll save the cat, of course.", Kei answered again. He didn't repeat his reasons why.

(This might not be an official job. It's quite possible that Murase simply asked Tsushima for help without even trying to contact the Bureau. If she's a student in Ashiharabashi, it'd make sense for her to know Tsushima. It's not like I know the names of every student there. If that was a private request to Tsushima, the inconsistencies Haruki pointed out start making sense. The timing sounds reasonable assuming the Bureau was never involved. Honestly, this whole story has many more curious points to it. That said, no one can know everything about something before trying it. Besides, I really like this job. "Save a cat's life". Really nice stuff there.)

Haruki gave a quick nod. It was a movement without emotion. And then, she said:

"Then, let's go to the festival tonight."

Suddenly changing topics used to be one of Kei's bad habits, but now it fully belongs to Haruki.

"What festival?"

(It is festival season, now that I think about it. We have festivals almost all over July, and then summer vacations start. That's how summer goes in Sakurada.)

"Sure. I'm free tonight, I think."

(That should be all for today, regarding this job. The complicated day will be yesterday, when the cat will die.)

Haruki had an innocent smile.

"Then let's hurry and save the cat."

"No, we need information first."

(The time limit is last morning. The cat will already have suffered the accident by 9:15. From my point of view, this moment will come in two days from today. I want to find him before that happens.)

Haruki tilted her head.

"We're asking Sakuin?"

"No, let's go with Unknown Caller today. The case might blow out of proportion if we rely on Sakuin."

After swallowing the last bit of ice cream, Kei stood up.

#sagrada reset #cat ghost and revolution sunday #asai kei #haruki misora #murase youka

3 notes · View notes