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paroxysmal-distaste · 3 years

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acatalepsy. || prologue

copied and pasted from my wattpad, excuse the old writing.

playlist. 0. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. ----- ◈ Chapter 0 - Prologue ◈ ◈ Date Published: 24/12/2018 ◈ ◈ Word Count: 2147 ◈ -----

UNKNOWN DAY IN AN UNFAMILIAR UNIVERSE

"What the hell are we doing in here?"

"Lighten up! You barely leave the house anyways."

"Yeah yeah yeah, you don't need to remind me. Did you bring the flashlight I asked you to bring?"

"I thought you were taking it."

You face palmed.

Recently, there's been a train accident where it's said to be believed that the tunnel was haunted. Everyone thought this was true because apparently there would be less people onboard after going through the tunnel than before. Almost like they were taken by something.

You thought it was bullshit.

The area had already been blocked off, but that doesn't stop your adventure loving friend from dragging you into her curiosities. In a way, you had always admired that about her, but other times you saw it as a flaw. One of those times being now.

"Mags?"

"Hm?"

"Can I go now?"

"No."

You rolled your eyes and frowned, speeding up your pace to keep up with her, "Wait up, will you?"

"Does your phone have any battery?" She questioned, ignoring your comment.

"Just a bit, I don't know if it will be enough though, especially since the flashlight takes up a lot of it."

"Turn it on for a moment, I can't see where I'm going." The both of you lifted up the Caution, Keep Out! police tape as you carefully stepped over the rumble. The atmosphere surrounding the place was giving you the chills, and you shivered quietly.

"Can we speed this up a little? I'm getting the creeps." You stated blandly, subconsciously tightening your grip around your backpack straps. You kicked a squashed can of Sprite to the left of you.

"Give me a hand with this." Mags gestured for you to help her with what seemed to be a large part of debris from the crash.

"Alright, but if it accidentally drops on your foot or something and it breaks, don't blame me." You raised your hands up comically and pursed your lips, before dropping them loosely to your sides. You grunted as your fragile hands attempted to pull off a large chunk of concrete from the side of the tunnel.

"You know, you're acting kind of weird. What's the rush? You don't have somewhere to be, right?" She asked abruptly.

You froze,"N-no, what makes you say that?" Your body stiffened as your friend squinted her eyes at you suspiciously.

"You seem to be in a really big hurry for some reason and you don't usually care when I pull you around on these trips."

You lifted your arms and shoulders, turning your head to the side, "I-I don't know, I think I'm just tired I guess."

"You're a terrible liar! You're meeting up with someone aren't you?" She placed her hands on her hips and neared you, making you back away nervously.

"Pffft- whaaaaaat? No way." You tugged at your turtleneck, "It's getting a little hot in here. Mind if I just-" Just as you were going to push past her, she said something that made you pause.

"It's Miles, isn't it?" The constant shifting of your eyes made her own widen and her lips to curve into a smile. "I knew it! You can't hide anything from me!"

"Shush! I was going to tell you, but I didn't know if I would call it anything yet." You fiddled with your hands in an antsy way, before pushing a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Ooo, you have to tell me what happened!"

"He just asked me out, that's all!"

"That's all! What do you mean- that's great!"

Your face reddened as she hugged you, "Stop... you're making it seem bigger than it is."

Mags nudged you suggestively, before walking forward. "I'll drop it. For now."

After a moment or two, a giant hole in the wall was finally revealed, and your friend carefully put a foot in the gap, trying to squeeze their way in.

"I can't get in! I think I'm stuck." She murmured, her voice echoing since half her body was left through the wall and her legs were kicking up and down in panic.

You snickered at her flailing limbs, and you could hear her getting cross at your lack of helpful action.

Something made a clicking sound, and you shielded your eyes from the sudden bright light in your face. It flickered for a moment, and a loud horn sound blew.

"M-Mags." You tugged at the bottom of her jacket, your eyes widening as you noticed that the light was from an incoming train.

"Huh?" She questioned, "I can't see! What's going on?"

Your face paled as you began to roughly tug at her legs, accidentally slipping one of her shoes off. "Dammit! A train's coming!"

"I thought there weren't supposed to be any trains seen this place had been closed off!"

"Yeah, well, it's not going to be stopping anytime soon - let me help you, stop kicking!"

Just as Mags was easing herself out of the hole, something made you pause momentarily.

Something tickled your arm, and instantly, you began to mentally freak out. Whatever it was, if you made any sudden movements, you were sure it was going to harm you.

"Ow! Something bit me!"

Never mind.

A burning sensation began to occur on your palm, and it felt as if your skin was falling off. You tried your best to not yell out in pain, since you and Mags were trying your best to get out of the place alive.

"I'm out! Quick! Hurry up, it's coming!"

You snapped your head to look behind you, seeing the lights coming closer. Turning your attention back to what was in front of you, a few metres forward was Mags with her hand extended, waiting for you to grab it.

The train seemed to get closer every second, and you bolted forward, almost tripping over the tracks.

You finally managed to clasp your hand around your friend's, and she hoisted you up immediately.

It was right on time too, because the train violently broke through the large concrete rumble, and continued going ahead at full speed.

The rubble of rocks flew everywhere, causing both you and Mags to fall backwards and to scoot backwards with your hands.

"Oh my goodness." You ran a shaky hand through your hair, which was now messed up. By doing so, a striking pain ran through your arm again, and it brought attention to what happened earlier.

You breathed in through your teeth, as Mags grabbed your hand gently in worry.

"I think it was a spider, but it must have been a pretty nasty one because it hur- gah! Careful!" You snatched your hand away from her grasp, making her stumble out a 'sorry'.

"Let's just get out of here." You frowned at her before walking out of the subway, her footsteps following quick behind.

You stared at your hand curiously, wondering what sort of bug would produce a large wound and sensation like that.

A radioactive spider definitely didn't cross your mind.

---

You ended up cancelling on Miles, and it made you feel terrible since you were really looking forward to your 'hangout'. He had invited you to go rollerblading with him, since he knew you loved it.

What you told him was that you weren't feeling very well, but you promised you would make it up to him.

That bite from a week before, was no ordinary bite. Your daily life was increasingly difficult, from accidentally ripping papers the second you tried to remove it from your own fingers, to climbing walls.

You did put two and two together, and realise that it must have been during that train episode because that's where you first started feeling weird.

Going out for a walk, you hummed the song that was playing through your headphones and looked around at the lights and streets of Brooklyn.

The moment was short lived though, since what happened next was only made aware to you when you heard an extremely high pitched scream. It must have been pretty loud since your headphones are always full volume, which signalled that something was seriously wrong.

You pulled your hoodie down, and carefully removed your headphones to find out what was happening.

Another villain.

And Kid Arachnid - as everyone called him - was saving the city once again. You had never seen him in action up close, and it only took you a few moments to notice that his abilities were the same ones that you had.

Your fingers began to tingle, and you looked down at them, slightly startled at the realisation. Were you just like him? You didn't know, and a small part of you wished you were. It would be interesting becoming a hero and fighting alongside Kid Arachnid.

A loud yell pierced your thoughts again, and you jumped at the sudden sound.

A car was thrown your way, but a string of webs managed to prevent it from going any further.

You looked up to see your saviour, who was now struggling to fight against the person opposing him.

A strong urge to help was almost forcing you to get up and assist him, but your fears held you back.

The villain seemed to have said something to him that alarmed him, because he ended up grabbing you and holding you up.

"Y/N!"

Wait, Y/N? How does he- His voice. I know that voice. Of course I do, I could recognise it a mile away. A mile...

Miles.

Everything that happened next was a blur, and you still couldn't process it. Before you knew it, you were free from the malefactor but in exchange for the well-being of someone else.

"Miles." You whispered, before running over to where he was laying. Almost instantly, you moved him off of the wreckage to make him feel a little more comfortable instead of having sharp rocks digging into his back.

"Miles- are you o-okay?" You managed to cry out. "You didn't have to do that!" You kneeled down to his level, unsure how to treat him.

"I did anyways though, didn't I?" He grinned and stated in a raspy voice. Of course that was his response.

"I-I should have gone to our meetup- maybe then I wouldn't have disappointed you, and left things like this. I-I-It's all my f-fault and-"

"Y/N. It's not your fault. This was bound to happen eventually." He was cut off when he gave out a weak cough.

Your hands shook vigorously as you placed them over Miles' cheek, using one to pull off his mask.

He smiled delicately when he saw you a little clearer, and he pushed the strand of hair that was sticking out behind your ear. "You always did have those little bits of hair pointing out all the time."

Your laugh made the tears that were brimming your eyes fall down on his chin.

Miles' eyes trailed to his stomach, where a large and deep, bleeding cut was held. There was no way he was recovering from that.

Suddenly, he squinted, and a pressure built into your head. It felt like a headache, but it actually felt nice. His eyes widened at you, and he smiled.

"Y-you're like me."

"W-what?"

He didn't reply, and his eyes were beginning to close.

"Miles. Miles! Answer me!" You tried your best to try to shake him awake without damaging him, but he wouldn't wake up. "M-Miles...?"

You stood up carefully.

This happened way too fast. First you get bitten by a radioactive spider, next your crush, best friend and also the city's super hero dies in your arms.

You couldn't even cry anymore, because you were still processing what had just happened. The villain was still on the loose.

Of course, at this point, you were fully aware that what ever caused Miles to be as skilled as he was, also got you.

It was a spider.

You dug your fingers into your fist until your knuckles turned white.

If there isn't going to be anymore Kid Arachnid, then there needed to be someone else to be there for him. Not to take his place, but rather, in his memory.

An idea started to form into your mind.

Chapter 1 >

#milesmorales #miles morales x reader #miles morales #acatalepsy

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blouisparadise · 3 years

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are any fics from "hl winter fic exchange" bl?

This is an older fic exchange, but we tried to go through them all. Enjoy!

1) You Are The Miracle I Need | General Audiences | 3885 words

So there he is: Louis Tomlinson. Sixteen years old. Pregnant. Alone. Bare chested in front of the mirror, waiting for a miracle that could put his life back together, because he certainly couldn't.

2) You Could Have Knocked Me Out With A Feather | Not Rated | 4701 words

"Well, love," Louis says slowly, reaching out his hand and placing it on Harry’s thigh. "Seems like you’ve proper missed me, then."

3) Crush Your Love, Let It Burn Until I Get To You | Teen & Up | 7979 words

It's Christmas time. Louis is in Doncaster and Harry is in London. Somewhere in between, there's a snowstorm.

4) I'll Taste The Sky And Feel Alive Again | Mature | 14762 words

There have been countless Most Important Moments in Louis’ lifetime (seeing Harry for the first time in line for the X Factor, meeting him in the bathroom, One Direction being formed, kissing Harry for the first time, fucking Harry for the first time, proposing to Harry for the first time, proposing to Harry for the last time, marrying Harry), but he thinks this might be the most important moment of all; the moment when it stops being just LouisandHarry and begins being LouisandHarryandAbigail.

The moment Louis finally finds his family.

5) Dreams Can't Take The Place Of Loving You | Explicit | 15496 words

Harry’s watching Louis as he stands on a ladder, paint covering his arms and dripping down his legs a bit, when it occurs to him just how bare Louis’ fingers look. He knows exactly what should go there, too, but the thought of doing so sets his nerves spinning.

6) (Quiet Like A Fight) Fingers Laced Together | Mature | 17479 words

Note: This fic doesn’t have anything more than oral sex in it, but any mentions of sex are BL and it’s a great fic, so we’re including it.

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

7) I Put A Spell On You | Explicit | 17525 words

A BBC/Secret Santa mashup featuring Captain Niall, our intrepid weatherman/amateur matchmaker, rather clueless sports reporter Liam, charming political analyst Zayn, and cheeky entertainment reporter Louis. Harry is the new fashion correspondent who prefers to dress like a flamingo. And pining. There’s a lot of pining.

8) Someone Who Makes You Feel The Most | Explicit | 19528 words

He's seven the first time he sees it.

9) All The Lights Are Full Of Colour | Explicit | 26727 words

Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

10) Night Changes | Mature | 29743 words

"Louis pushed his hands against the fabric of his pockets.

“You look like an adorable kangaroo.” Harry tried to stifle his giggle in his scarf, but Louis had seen his nose crinkle, and he knew that Harry found immense pleasure in moments like this.

“Do I now, Harold? You don’t look much better yourself.”

Harry tugged his scarf back underneath his chin and grinned. All of his teeth and every dimple and every crinkle were on display. “Thank you, Louis. I appreciate these kind words.”

“You’re welcome.”

If only he could just punch through the fabric of his coat and touch Harry’s stomach. If only he could, because he would; he didn't care for his stupid coat. Niall would surely lend him one of his until he could afford a new one, and if not, then he at least had Harry to keep him warm."

11) I Can See The Truth, Now That I Found You | Explicit | 34797 words

When Harry first saw Louis, Harry was a 24 year old happily married man with a 1 year old son, and Louis was a young, energetic 18 year old who might have fancied the dad he saw at work.

Three years later, Harry may not have been a happily married man, but Louis definitely fancied the dad he saw at work.

12) I’ll Come Around If You Ever Want To Be In Love | Teen & Up | 39309 words

Louis is a film student, Harry is a musician, and shooting a music video doesn't help on the path of trying not to fall in love.

13) We've Got The World In Our Hands | Explicit | 54964 words

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

- BLP 🍑

#asks #fic recs #hl winter fic fest

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icouldntfinditsoiwroteit · 3 years

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Story 1

At the moment I may or may not be a bit obsessed with One Piece without even watching the anime, and I'm even more obsessed with Sanji and the Vinsmokes in general, so I thought of four story ideas with a reader insert, two will be romantic and the last two will be platonic.

1. Aracne

Fem Reader X Vinsmoke quadruplets.

Soulmate au (red string, sort of)

Sneak peek.

In this Au Reader is a Third, her family has webbed countless portraits for the Vinsmoke family, she goes with her older brother in order to further her practice and experience in webbing a portrait.

She is four years older then the quadruplets and one year older than Reiju.

Story time

*Big brother says I need to be careful with the Vinsmokes, they don't act bad but I don't like how their eyes look and I feel dizzy when I look at them, although brother said that it was sea sickness,* (F/N) thought while she carried some of the webbing material behind her brother.

Her brother had three spider arms and one pair of human arms while she has tree pair of human arms and one pair of spider ones.

*Mother always says how we are total opposites in not only personality but also in bodies just like the Mrabara,* (F/N) remembered.

"Brother,"

"Yes?" They had already arrived to the webbing room.

"What is a Mrabara?" (F/N) moved to one side for her face to be visible.

"W-Where did you hera that word?" Brother's face was twisted in nervous worry.

"Mom,"

"Oh thank god," His face relaxed.

"Is there something wrong with Mrabara?"

"It's a mature word," Brother tried to explain.

"I'm mature," (F/N) pouted following her brother who had entered the webbing room.

"Never said you weren't.......just don't say it in front of Clío and if you do tell her mom taught you the word," Brother said while he started to prepare the webbing station.

"Come help me with this (F/N),"

Four hours later.

"Are you listening (F/N)?"

"Yeah," (F/N) muttered in her seat while she watched her brother web.

"What did I just say then?" Brother looked at her and smiled playfully.

".............."

"You already bored, don't you usually last for 7 whole hours?" Her brother gave her a worried look.

"I don't know," (F/N) really wanted to walk outside but she didn't know why, she loved webbing to the point that in her lessons they had to remind her to eat, although they said that it was normal.

"Tell you what, I'll ask for something to eat, meanwhile go and retrieve my webbing book," (F/N) lightened up at the thought of walking outside.

"Ok," (F/N) bolted to the door.

"Stick to the route we came from," Her brother reminded and she just nodded in agreement before she opened the door and left the room.

When she left the room she bumped into someone slightly smaller than her, she caught the stranger before they could fall to the ground.

"Are you ok? I'm so sorry," She looked at the stranger who had yellow hair.

"Hello?" She asked after stopping herself from apologizing again when she received no answer, the boy was frozen.

"S-S-So-orry-Sorry," The boy whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?" She then gasped recognizing the prince.

"Your highness, I'm so sorry," She apologized again.

Before she could keep apologizing they heard some footsteps approaching them and then someone calling out.

"Sanji!!" The boy stiffened at the voice calling his name, he took (F/N)'s hand and ran.

(F/N) followed along until they reached a dead end, she could see how the little boy was trembling and heard how the taunts and footsteps where still following them, but something good was that the dead end had a window.

She took out of her pockets a thread serger that had spider web her family told her to always carry with her, she roped the thread around the boy to create a small harness.

"I'm going to get you down there," The boy only looked at her in shock.

She pushed the window open and put the boy in the ledge of the window, under the window was a small bush where he could easily hide.

"Be very quiet," She said as she pushed the boy and started to let him down as fast as she could, the steps where getting closer and closer.

Luckily she felt the boy reach the ground a few second before the chasers reached her, but she only had time to throw her end or the thread and close the window.

"SANJI!!" She turned around in surprise and saw that a bow with green hair had yelled that.

*It's the princes,* (F/N) noted when the last two boys rounded the corner.

"Ichiji, this is just a girl," The blue haired one whined.

The red haired boy glared and (F/N) felt shivers when she made eye contact.

"Oi, where did Sanji go?" The green haired boy asked.

(F/N) only shacked her head.

"Then what is a insect like you doing here?" The blue haired one asked.

"Looking out the window?" (F/N) gave a look of "seriously", this seemed to anger them.

"An lowlife doesn't need to see out the window, maybe we should use this one since we can't find Sanji," The blue haired one was clearly the most volatile.

"(F/N) what are you doing here?" Came her brother's cold voice.

"Brother, I just wanted to look out the window," (F/N) explained while the boys turned around and their grins disappeared when they saw her brother.

"Young princes, I will be taking my sister with me now," He greeted politely.

(F/N) immediately followed him not looking behind, this made her brother the only one who saw the red strings tied to her pinkies.

Au info dump

In this Au there is a species called Aracne, this species is a hybrid between a spider and human, there are different forms a Aracne can be born into such as seconds, thirds and fourths, although the form is respective to the family they come from.

Seconds

As the name says, they are basically half spider and half humans, the spider humans is always the lower, members of this species are considered either as builders since due to their form it would be incredible dangerous for the to go into the sea and their silk is the strongest and more resistant or as knowledge guardians (librarians) and they have the most elders since they have the longer lifespan. They can also be seen as teachers and caretakers too, they are also the ones who take care of the security alongside the Fourths, there is usually two of them per family they take the role as grandparents or simply mentors although the last one is extremely rare and two is just the minimum but unofficially they take care of all family's since they most probably took care of them as children. Their bites are fatal and will take your life in less than a minute and can dissolve any surface.

Thirds

Their humanoid features are more dominant than the spider ones, in this form they possess either one, two or three pairs of arms and the rest takes the form of a spider leg that is always in their lower backs. When it comes to females their web exit is in the middle of where the lowest spider legs find themselves this causes them to be incredibly flexible to reach for the web. They are considered the negotiators and commonly leave their homes to aid their nest's economy, this is usually trough them selling their services in making clothes, rugs and even portraits with their silk but this kind of service is only given to royalty or families considered sacred or that are friends with them. (It is considered a honor or sign of power to have one portrait since it is believed that they can predict the future). Their bite is also mortal but will take six minutes to kill an adult, although it has been used in some medicine that kind of works like chemo.

Fourths

They are the ones who exit their island the most in unofficial matters unlike the thirds, this is due to their forms being less evident and easier to hide, they are the ones in charge to keep the island updated in politics, economy, science and culture although some of them also accompany as guards the thirds when it comes to political exits, they only possess two to tree pairs of arms, their whole body possess small hard hair that allows them to still be able to climb webs like the other forms, their bite takes ten minutes to kill someone or if they are a strong human they can survive but not without any damage that is usually caused to their muscles, although their venom if processed correctly can be used to cure countless of sicknesses, this is a secret guarded with their lives in order to prevent their active hunt. They are also the buffest since they need to compensate their lack of spider legs with their strength.

More info

Skin and eye color varies an there is no consistence, when it comes to eyes Seconds may possess 8 to 6, Thirds 5 to 3 and Fourths possess 4 to 3, two eyes is incredibly rare and only happens when someone is born from a Fourth and a human, hybrids are born from the union of two different forms, the Aracne are not against romantic relationship between different forms but when it comes to reproduce they worry, if a fourth became pregnant with a Second or Third they will die during the pregnancy or in childbirth since the baby's form will be mixed and the Fouth's body cannot handle it, same goes for a Third with a Fourth although there are higher chances of survival there is still the possibility of some life damage occurring, Seconds are the ones who can carry in a less dangerous way the offspring of the lover but due to the Second's anatomy a Fourth's baby has a 85% of chance to die and a Fourth's has a 50% chance to die in the womb.

If the hybrid is born healthy they are raised normally but health issues will come in the future if they aren't born with them already, although there are cases where hybrids manage to enjoy a full life, they still needed medical help to manage it.

There is a lot less danger if the child is a mix between a Aracne and a human, since a human's gene would only water down the child's form a long as it is the Aracne who carries, if it where the human they will die if they carrie the offspring of a Second or a Third, if it is a Fourth's child they carry it comes with less danger but their chance of survival is of less than 30%.

#vinsmoke reiju #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke siblings #vinsmoke judge #vinsmoke brothers #reader insert #one piece #What am I doing with my life #for some reason I have 3 more stories of this #Soulmate au

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quickspinner · 3 years

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Month of Miracles - Moments of Wonder

Well my plans for this prompt month definitely tanked but that’s okay, I’m still gonna finish this Hallmark AU at least. I’m gonna try not to write a ten paragraph authors note detailing all my struggles with this piece and just say, I hope the intention comes through even with all the life interruptions.

Find the prompt list here!

“Spaghetti?” Rose screeched. “Luka, nobody looks good eating spaghetti. She’ll be uncomfortable. Make something else.”

Luka looked at the ceiling for a moment and prayed for patience. “It’s not like this is a date,” he muttered, going to look through the pantry to see what else he could make. Rose’s pestering was making him nervous, and his hand hovered over several options before he shook himself and picked up a bag of rice. Casserole seemed like such a homely option but—

Not a date , he reminded himself resolutely. He didn’t want to make Marinette uncomfortable. She hadn’t agreed to a date, so it wasn’t one, and he wasn’t going to let Rose’s fantasizing make him treat it like one.

“Casserole?” Rose said doubtfully when he got out the pan.

Luka groaned. “Out, Rose.” He grabbed the kitchen towel hanging on the oven rail and snapped it at her, making her squeak and jump back. She folded her arms with a pout. “Nope. Not gonna work on me,” he told her, flapping her out of the kitchen with the towel like a fly. “Get lost.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Rose wailed as she backed away.

“And stay out,” Luka told her shortly, and turned to go back in the kitchen. He leaned on the counter and sighed. He was a patient guy, and he liked Rose, and okay so she was right that he and Marinette would hit it off, but— enough , already. He was nervous enough about whether she would understand what he wanted to show her tonight, and not really sure why it was important to him anyway.

Maybe it was lingering guilt for disappearing without any real explanation or apology to his fans. Maybe if he could make even one fan understand, he’d feel better.

Orrrr maybe it has nothing to do with your fans and you just want Marinette to understand, Rose’s voice sing-songed in his head, because you liiiiiike her. Luka sighed.

He did like her. He liked her, and he wanted to know her, and the only way he knew of to do that was to invite her to know him. He sighed again, and went back to his dinner preparations.

Marinette knocked on the Couffaines’ door with so many butterflies in her stomach that she wasn’t at all sure she was going to be able to eat. It had been easy to accept the invitation with Luka there in front of her, with his relaxed smile and calm presence, but by the time she got back to her grandmother’s house, her brain had gone into a panicked spiral of overthinking that had her feeling jumpy and on edge. She always put thought into her appearance, but she’d agonized over it tonight, afraid of looking too...date-like. In the end she’d kept her pigtails and kept her makeup light, and worn a slightly oversized cream sweater over red leggings. Easy, seasonally appropriate, not unflattering but not aiming to attract, either.

When the door flew open, Rose’s excited, beaming face did nothing to ease her nerves. As Rose dragged her inside, bouncing a little, Marinette had an unsettling feeling like she had been caught in a trap of some kind, and it didn’t get any better when Rose introduced her to Luka’s sister. Juleka gave her a quick once over and smirked, and Marinette was struck by an urge to flee the premises.

Then Luka was there, taking her elbow gently and somehow getting everyone moving to the table. He wasn’t dressed for a date either, wearing a slightly worn navy pullover with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and jeans that had seen better days. The look he gave her as he escorted her to the dining room said please ignore them, we both know better, and Marinette began to relax a little bit. That’s right. Rose might be scheming but she and Luka had already talked it out, and they knew where they stood. They were friends, and whatever he wanted to show her tonight had nothing to do with...with wooing her, or whatever Rose seemed to think was going on.

Dinner wasn’t fancy, either, and that made her feel better too. She managed to strike up a conversation with Juleka after Luka pointed out that many of the photographs on the walls were Juleka’s work. He turned all of Rose’s attempts to get them started on personal topics into casual conversation, and Marinette honestly could have kissed him just for making everything so... easy.

Not that she would. Not that he wanted her to. Not that she wanted to! Oh no, she was starting again…

Marinette nearly jumped out of her seat when a peppy tune blared out seemingly from nowhere. Luka put a steadying hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile while Rose pulled her phone out of her pocket, frowning.

“Excuse me a second,” Rose said apologetically, “It’s work so I better see what they want.”

Marinette had to blink for a moment. She’d forgotten that normal people didn’t take phone calls during dinner.

“Sabrina, what’s up?” Rose chirped, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin as she held the phone to her ear and slipped out of her chair to walk into the other side of the room—not that it really made a difference since they could all still hear her. “Well, finally, what took so long? So, what’s the big deal?” There was a pause, and Rose frowned. “Come down there? Why are you being so dramatic, Sabrina, can’t you just tell me?”

That got Luka’s attention. He shot Rose an alarmed look, and Rose rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, fine. I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone and came back over to kiss Juleka’s cheek. “I have to go. There’s something up with the costumes for the children’s pageant and Sabrina’s making a big deal about it. I’ll come back after I find out what’s going on.” She grinned at Luka and Marinette. “Have fun without me.” She fluttered her hand and left the table, blowing a kiss to them all as she flounced out of the door.

Luka gaped after her for a moment. No, no, this was no good. Rose’s excited fluttering aside, she and Juleka were supposed to go do their own thing and get so distracted with each other that he could talk to Marinette in peace, but without Rose—Luka glanced at his sister, and saw her smirking at him. Luka tried to convey with nothing but his eyes that if she ruined this for him he’d never forgive her. Juleka just rolled her eyes and went back to eating.

“Children’s pageant?” Marinette was repeating next to him in confusion. “At the library? I thought that was usually a church thing.”

“Oh, it is,” Juleka smirked. “The church has one every year too, and Rose...Rose has a beef with it. Let’s just say they’ve had the same Joseph and Mary for the last three years and Rose doesn’t feel like it represents the proper Christmas spirit.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, blinking. “Huh.”

“Are you finished, Juleka?” Luka asked a little too quickly, standing up. “I can take your plate.”

Juleka gave him a look that said she knew what he was doing, but she got up too. “Yeah. Thanks. It was nice to meet you Marinette.” She went to the stairs, but couldn’t resist a parting “You two have fun,” before she thunked up them.

Luka sighed, and took Juleka’s plate and his own to the kitchen. He nearly bumped into Marinette when he turned around, standing behind him with her own mostly-empty plate. “Oh, sorry,” he said, taking it from her automatically. “I didn’t mean to rush you, if you weren’t done.”

“No, I’m good,” Marinette said, with a nervous little flutter of her hands. “I was done. Can I help you clean up?”

“Nah, Jules can get it later,” he said, opening the cabinet to dump the last of the food in the trash before he put the plate in the sink. “I cooked, so dishes are her job. Let me just put the leftovers in the fridge. Why don’t you come on into the great room while I do that?”

He led her out of the kitchen into the two-story great room, with its huge windows and exposed beams and the large crackling fireplace.

“Wow, this is lovely,” Marinette breathed, looking around.

“I like it,” Luka shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “Great acoustics in here, actually. Just have a seat wherever you’re comfortable and I’ll be right back. Watch your step, we’re...not exactly neat freaks, if you know what I mean.”

“It looks lived in,” Marinette agreed diplomatically. The furniture was all mismatched and...unique. Some of it looked so old and rickety that she wasn’t sure it was safe to sit on, and there were...boxes everywhere. Not really boxes, but old army footlockers, heavy-looking chests, and a dozen other things. They were mostly tucked in the corners of the room, leaving the floor clear for the enormous Christmas tree that took up an entire corner of the huge room.

Marinette made her way to one of the couches as Luka went back to the kitchen. It looked like an antique, with an old brocade fabric that was slightly faded but otherwise in good condition, and sturdy enough. Marinette perched on the end of it, feeling a little awkward. She looked around the room. Despite the size, it was cozy, with a rustic air, much like all the other buildings she’d been in around town, and though she’d been being polite, her statement was accurate. It didn’t look so much cluttered as lived-in, as if this room was used a lot by the entire family. As she looked at the Christmas tree, she had to smile. The decorations were a bit...eccentric. Several of the ornaments on the tree were little bats wearing tiny knitted scarves or carrying miniature instruments that looked like they might have come from a doll collection. Music seemed to feature prominently in the tree, she realized. Many of the figures had instruments, not just the bats (there were spiders, too, she saw with amusement). Some of the ornaments were cheap, clearly mass manufactured things, but others were carefully crafted and looked like they’d come from far away places. Guitars weren’t the only instruments featured, but they did outnumber the others by quite a bit. Luka wasn’t the only musical one in the family, she concluded. His father was Jagged Stone, after all, and boy there was probably a story there, but she’d never dare ask.

Her eyes widened slightly when Luka reappeared with an electric guitar in one hand. Marinette blushed, one hand fluttering up to fuss nervously with her hair. Surely he wasn’t going to play now? For her?

Luka smirked a little at the expression on her face, and winked at her as he set the guitar down in a stand she hadn’t noticed. “In a minute,” he told her, and Marinette wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. Could she act more like a starstruck fan? Luka crossed to a funny looking cabinet that turned out to have a CD player inside. “You know Blue Lightning, right?

“Yes, of course,” Marinette said, blinking. It was one of the singles off his most recent album—his last album, she realized with a pang.

Luka nodded as he put the CD he’d been holding in the player. “This was the demo I pitched to the label when I wrote it.”

He pressed play, and turned the volume up. He walked over to one of the windows and stuck his hands in his pockets as the music began to play.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. It sounded so...different. Of course a demo would sound different, she’d heard demo tracks before and they didn’t necessarily have full instrumentation or backup vocals, but...the whole feel of the song was different. Peppier, more fluid, less...angry. Still a rock song, but not so...gritty, or harsh, as the version she knew.

Luka kept his eyes down as he switched off the CD player and closed the cabinet, and then went to sit next to Marinette on the couch. Only then did he look up at her.

“The execs said they loved it,” he told her softly, “but it didn’t fit my brand. They didn’t think it would sell. Later, they told me. When I was a bigger star, then I could put out something like that, but not yet.”

“That’s—” a shame, Marinette wanted to say, but instead she twined her fingers together and looked down. “Well, I guess they know what sells, right? It makes sense that you would take their advice.”

“That’s what I thought.” Luka nodded. “So I agreed to change it. And then in post production they ‘tweaked it’ some more, and…” He grimaced. “And then I had to go up on stage and perform it like that, and even though it made sense at the time, I just...hated it. When I complained, they told me I wasn’t bringing in enough sales yet to be such a diva and that if I wanted to make the music I wanted to make, then I needed to work harder.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it,” Marinette sighed. “But you have to make your bones, right? It’s the same with fashion. That’s just...part of the industry.” She glanced at him uncertainly.

“So they told me,” Luka gave her a wry smile.

Marinette looked back at her hands. “Well, if it was making you unhappy, then it’s good that you left,” she said, but she said it without conviction, and she knew that he could hear it.

Luka sighed. “Well. There was more to it than just that.” He got to his feet. “You’ve been to one of my shows, right? I think you said you had.” He picked up the guitar from the stand, and slung the strap across his shoulders.

Marinette nodded. “Mmhmm.” She watched as he rummaged behind one of the chairs, pulled out an amp cord, and plugged it into the guitar.

“Good,” Luka said, sitting down across from her in one of the rickety-looking chairs. Marinette’s hands moved involuntarily before fluttering back into her lap. He lived here; surely he knew the hazards of the furniture. She curled her fingers under and tried not to fidget. He grinned without looking at her as he tuned the guitar.

“It’ll hold,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I promise nothing around here is as fragile as it looks.”

“Right,” Marinette said, hunching her shoulders slightly. “Of course.” She didn’t know where to look, and she suddenly felt very stupid. Why was she here again?.

“Just relax,” Luka’s deep voice soothed, and she glanced up, color deepening. He sounded like Luke Stone in that moment, with the smooth, musical tone of his voice. “Just listen. If you don’t understand when I’m done, then...then that’ll be okay. But I’d like to try and show you what I mean. The difference between Luke Stone, and...me.”

He took a breath, blew it out slowly...and played. Marinette’s breath caught. It was just White Christmas, which she’d heard a thousand times over in a hundred different styles. Even so, it was beautiful, embellished with unique touches that face it the same evocative quality that had first drawn her to Luke’s—to Luka’s music.

Apparently he was just warming up, though, because he took another deep breath, and the music segued into a different tune—one she didn’t recognize.

It resonated somewhere deep inside her, touched a well of pain she’d been trying to ignore for months. Not only the music, which by itself was beautiful and seemed to vibrate in her soul—but the artistry. And when she looked at him—

Luka’s eyes were half closed, and his face was serene, with just a slight wrinkle of concentration between his brows. His hands, rough and abused as they were, moved easily and gracefully, with a confidence that Marinette suddenly realized was familiar. She’d had that once, back when she’d been young and inexperienced and thought too highly of herself. Before she’d learned better, and seen how far she still had to go.

She found that she envied Luka in that moment. It must be nice, to be away from all that pressure and just...create for yourself again. Not to be constantly questioning your instincts, because you only had yourself to please anyway.

Her chest suddenly felt tight, and her eyes stung. She swallowed hard and tore her eyes away from him, looking down at her hands. She closed her eyes and put her hand on her heart, determined to listen until the end.

It was so beautiful. Poignant.

She recognized now what he’d been trying to show her with the demo track. She had been too distracted at the time by the other differences, but...there had been so much more feeling in the demo version. Because Luka had loved it, she realized. He’d been excited about that song, and by the time the studio was done with it, that enthusiasm was lost. He played the studio version well, with all the technical skill he possessed, but it lacked the passion of the original. If anything, it sounded angry because Luka was angry when he played it.

That’s part of the process, though. It’s just part of the industry. Editing is important, even if it isn’t fun. Of course you’re tired of a project before it’s finished. You’ve still got to see it through. You don’t just quit or give up on a project because you feel pouty that people told you what was wrong.

It was the truth, so...why did watching Luka, and hearing him play, make it feel like such a lie?

The studio was wrong, she admitted to herself. Even if it was an objectively better song when they were done, even if the sales numbers said they were right...what they lost along the way was so much more precious than perfection.

Luka’s song ended softly, but on a questioning note, without really concluding. He looked up at her, and then came over to sit next to her on the couch, his expression concerned.

She wasn’t sure why until Luka reached out, and wiped away the tear trickling down her face with the rough pad of his thumb. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m—” Marinette began, trying to smile, but she couldn’t finish. Her face crumpled and she buried in her hands before she began to cry in earnest.

Luka put the guitar down, and came to sit beside her. His hands curled around her shoulders and tugged her to him. Marinette yielded, letting him pull her close. One arm wrapped around her back and one big hand gently cradled her head, guiding it down to his shoulder, and he held her, swaying gently, while she hid her face in his shirt and wept.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Luka said apologetically, and Marinette shook her head without lifting it. He held her for a long moment, until she finally managed to pull herself together and pull away from him, sitting up and wiping at her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I was enjoying it so much, I can’t believe I just...lost it like that, ugh.”

“It’s okay,” Luka soothed, putting his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed and rubbed it lightly. “Do you feel better?”

“I...think I do, actually,” Marinette gave him a quick smile. “Thank you.” She was still embarrassed, but she meant it. It felt like a pressure valve had opened somewhere inside of her, and while nothing had really changed, it all felt just a little bit less oppressive. “I think I understand, at least a little. Why you left. But…” Marinette pressed her lips together, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to go on. Luka squeezed her shoulder again lightly, waiting for her to continue.

“I just...was quitting really the only way? Wasn’t it your dream? Wasn’t it worth fighting for?”

Luka swallowed and drew his hand back. He folded his hands together between his knees, looking at the floor, and hoped he could say what he wanted to without sounding like a pretentious drama queen or a weakling.

“What happened between us just now,” Luka began slowly, “Luke Stone could never do that. I didn’t mind the work, or the hours, or even the touring. It’s just, the more we ‘refined’ Luke Stone’s image, the less it felt like me, and it put up this...wall between me and the rest of the world. It wasn’t just the label interfering with my music, it was the image they wanted me to project. The brand. It was harder and harder to be somebody different off-stage, because after a certain point, there’s really no such thing as off-stage. Jagged, you know, he can turn it on and off like that.” He snapped his fingers. “He tried to help me, he really did, but...I just...wasn’t connecting with people the way I needed to, for the music to really flow. I felt so alone, and unhappy, and I was still making music but it wasn’t mine, anymore. It was just something I did to keep the label happy. Finally I decided that clinging to the dream for the sake of the dream wasn’t very smart if it didn’t actually make me happy, and it was more important to be me than to be a star.” Luka glanced up. Marinette was staring at him, her eyes huge in her pale face. He felt himself beginning to blush and dropped his eyes again. “So I told Dad I was done,” he went on quickly. “He was disappointed, but he understood. I finished out my contract and came home to figure out what in the world comes next.”

Marinette was silent for a moment. Luka swallowed nervously, and was trying to think of a graceful way to end the conversation when she finally said, “You’re really brave, Luka.”

He blinked, the words he’d been about to force out dying on his tongue. “What?” he said instead.

“I think it takes a lot of courage to admit that,” Marinette said quietly. “Even to yourself, let alone actually making the break and leaving it all behind. I’m glad you did it. I loved your music, but…” She reached out hesitantly, and slid her hand over Luka’s. He released his clasped hands to turn his fingers up to lace with hers. “I’m glad that you did what was right for you, instead of…”

“Flaming out and becoming an alcoholic drug addict?” he asked with a sardonic grin. Her hand was so small in his, he couldn’t help noticing.

Marinette giggled. “Something like that. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. You really didn’t have to rehash all of that for me.”

Luka shrugged and repeated, “I wanted you to understand.” She had no idea how bad he wanted her to understand. He was grateful and relieved that she did...and at the same time, it was a little frightening. Things might have been simpler if she had scoffed and blown him off. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here, holding her hand and looking into her soft, beautiful eyes, feeling like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Marinette bit her lip, and his gaze dropped to it. “I should...if it’s okay with you, I think I should go home now.”

Luka shook himself back to reality. “Of course. Are you sure you’re alright? Will you be okay to get home?”

Marinette nodded and tried a smile. It mostly looked steady, so Luka smiled back. He stood up, still holding her hand, and drew her up after him. “Thanks for taking the time to listen to me, Marinette.” Luka let her hand slide out of his. “It actually feels good to be able to explain it to someone.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Marinette told him, and they didn’t say anything more as Luka got her coat and held it for her.

Once she was gone, he barely made it back to a chair before his knees gave way. He rubbed a hand over his face and then leaned into it, sighing. That had been…intense. All of it, not just Marinette, but...playing like that, when he hadn’t played for anyone but his family in so long, and trying to help her understand...he hadn’t realized how much it would take out of him.

He was still sitting there when Rose burst in. “Marinette!” she cried, looking at Luka with wide eyes. “Where is she?”

“She went home,” Luka mumbled, leaning back in the chair.

“What? No, I need her!” Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Why did she leave? What happened?”

“Nothing happened—” Luka began, but a voice from the doorway interrupted him.

“He made her cry,” Juleka smirked.

Rose whirled to look at her, while Luka glared at her over Rose’s head, but Juleka just grinned wider when Rose turned back and began to hit Luka in the arm over and over with her tiny yet surprisingly hard fist. “You idiot! You did not! You made her cry? What’s the matter with you?”

Luka put up his hands in defense. “Rose,” he whined. “Look, I told you this wasn’t a date, and it’s not going to happen—”

“Who cares about your pathetic excuse for a love life?” Rose roared, hitting him faster. “You can’t run her off, I need her! The pageant’s going to be a disaster!”

“Wait, what?” Juleka frowned, coming into the room.

“That’s what Sabrina was calling about!” Rose exclaimed. “The costumes that were in storage—they’re a disaster! Moths or rats or water or all three, I don’t even know. And here I made friends with someone who designs and sews and then like a bonehead I had to set her up with your stupid socially inept—”

“He played for her,” Juleka broke in, and Rose stopped hitting him long enough to look at her. It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Rose’s eyes widened. She turned back to Luka and he flinched. “You did not!”

“I did,” Luka admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “I really did,” he realized, feeling suddenly weak again. He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to pretend like he wasn’t suppressing the urge to scream.

“Tell me everything right now!” Rose demanded, grabbing a fistful of his sweater and dragging him out of his chair and over to the couch. She sat down next to him with a determined expression. Luka looked up at Juleka pleadingly, but she just grinned.

That’s for eating all the cookies, she mouthed, and left before Luka could make a rude gesture.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #hallmark au #marinette dupain-cheng #luka couffaine #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

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purplehairedwonder · 3 years

Text

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 13

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 4261 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Robin, Sanji, Nami, Chopper, Usopp, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Sengoku, Sengoku’s goat ;) Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Law slowly came awake, having slept the dreamless sleep he only ever had after draining himself to the point of unconsciousness. He grimaced before slitting his eyes open; his body ached, his mouth was cottony, and his head throbbed. As the fuzzy world came into focus around him, he realized he was on the couch. He frowned. When had that happened? The last thing he remembered was sitting with Luffy on the floor…

He threw a hand over his face and groaned as he remembered that Luffy was the one who’d found him during his panic attack. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin were the only ones he allowed to see him like that; they’d seen him at his worst when Cora-san’s death was still a gaping wound, and his body was still marred with Amber Lead. They’d been there for the screaming nightmares and suffocating panic attacks. For anyone else to see him that way…

Well, Law hadn’t been able to afford such shows of weakness around the Family.

But Luffy had simply smiled and offered that he had his own demons as well.

Law swallowed, unsure of what to do with that bit of kindness. It settled uncomfortably somewhere behind his breastbone.

Taking a breath, he pushed himself upright and glanced around. Luffy was nowhere to be seen. Vergo’s body was also gone. That meant someone—likely Marines—had come in while Law was sleeping to remove it. The idea of being defenseless while Marines were in the room made his stomach turn. Yet they’d left him alone, undoubtedly on Smoker’s orders.

Shaking his head, Law grabbed Kikoku from where she’d been placed on the table and pocketed his Den Den Mushi. He had no idea what time it was—and there were no windows in this metal monstrosity of a lab to give him any hints—but if the Marines had removed Vergo’s body, there was a good chance the back-up ship had arrived, meaning it was morning.

Rather than aimlessly wander around the lab, Law reached out with his haki to look for the Straw Hats… and was immediately struck by the overwhelming presence of Luffy. After a moment, he was able to discern the chaotic energies of the other Straw Hats as well; they were gathered a few halls over. The Marines, including Smoker and his second, were on the other side of the lab, near the entrance. He could sense more Marines than he thought had been there previously, which seemed to confirm his suspicion.

Law left the control room and followed his haki. The closer he got to the gathered group, the stronger the smell of cooking food became—which made perfect sense when he found the crew in the dining hall.

“Torao, good morning!” Luffy called, waving his hand as though Law wouldn’t be able to pick him out from the small group. They were all seated at one long table that they seemed to have pieced together from several smaller tables.

“Straw Hat-ya,” Law greeted with a sigh, head already aching from the enthusiasm. Whatever time it was, it was too early for this.

“Sanji’s cooking breakfast. I hope there’s lots of meat!” Luffy said, eyes glazing over.

“Of course, you do,” the cat burglar said, rolling her eyes. She then turned and looked Law up and down without any hint of subtlety. “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” she said, lips twitching.

Law considered flipping her off, but coffee sounded amazing, so he simply nodded and headed back to the kitchen, where Black Leg was working. He raised an eyebrow at Law’s presence.

“Coffee?” Law grunted.

Black Leg nodded and broke off from the task he was doing—scrambling eggs, from the looks of it—and poured a cup of coffee.

“Take anything with it?”

Law shook his head, accepting the undoctored mug of precious caffeine.

Black Leg snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

Law shrugged and took a sip. The bitter liquid burned at his scratchy throat, and it was heavenly.

“Any dietary restrictions?” Black Leg asked as he went back to the meal.

“No bread.”

Black Leg hummed. “Gluten allergy or just not a fan?”

“Gluten,” Law acknowledged around sips.

Black Leg nodded. “I can work with that.” He turned to another task but looked over his shoulder at Law. “Tell those idiots it’s almost ready, will you?”

Law took that as being kicked out of the kitchen, so he jerked his head in a nod and grudgingly returned to the rowdy collection of remaining Straw Hats.

“It’s almost ready,” Law relayed as he sat down at the end of the table, as far from Luffy as he could place himself. He could still feel a crawling sensation under his skin as he thought about the night before, and sitting as far away from its source while he worked through his thoughts seemed like his best bet.

“Was there meat?” Luffy asked, mouth practically watering.

“There’s always meat, you shitty piece of rubber,” Black Leg said as he brought several platters of food out from the kitchen.

After dropping off the platters, Black Leg went back to the kitchen several more times and returned with an impressive array of breakfast foods for the crew to share. The remaining Straw Hats, particularly those seated close to Luffy, seemed to have a well-practiced system in place to eat their meals while avoiding Luffy stealing from their plates, including knocking their captain upside the head when he got too close. Luffy merely grinned and laughed before returning to his own heaping plate.

Law managed to grab some eggs and fruit amidst the melee, and, as he ate, he considered how different the dynamic was from his own crew’s. Though, Law supposed with no little regret, he hadn’t eaten with them with any regularity in the last few years. Ever since Shachi’s injury, Law’s guilt had pushed him away from his nakama, and, when he did eat, he usually ended up eating alone or with the Family—Sunday dinners, for instance, were required for every executive who was not away on a mission. Though the Family was hectic in its own way, manners were still expected—and not just because their captain was also a king. Table manners had been preached even when Law had been with the Family at Spider Miles; just because they were pirates did not mean they were savages, Doffy had said, and they were expected to act like it.

That had made a lot more sense when Law had learned that Doffy was a former Celestial Dragon—many of his quirks had come into focus with that information, in fact.

It had also been revealing about Cora-san, though Law hadn’t been entirely ready to open that Pandora’s Box, despite knowing about it for six years.

“How did you sleep last night, Torao-kun?”

Law started, pulled from his thoughts by Nico Robin’s smiling face across the table from him.

“Luffy went looking for you last night after dinner, but then he didn’t come back until this morning,” she elaborated, still smiling.

The expression set Law’s teeth on edge. He narrowed his eyes, certain that she was screwing with him. “Fine,” he said curtly then deliberately took a sip of coffee, hoping to discourage the conversation. Still. Did that mean Luffy had stayed? He was obviously the one who had moved Law to the couch, and that was humiliating enough, but the thought that the other captain had stayed with him…

Law’s eye twitched.

But Nico Robin just kept smiling. “That’s good to hear. After all, we’re heading to Dressrosa today.”

Law put his cup down slowly. “Yes,” he agreed, not sure what she was getting at.

“We’ll need everyone to be at their best to face Doflamingo,” she said, expression never changing. “I’ve heard the rumors about him.”

“Until tomorrow, little bird.”

“He’s worse than any rumor,” Law ground out before pushing himself up and away from the table. He grabbed Kikoku, knuckles going white from his grip. He needed air.

“Torao?” Luffy called after him, but he ignored the other captain, practically fleeing the room.

Recalling the blueprints of the lab, he navigated the hallways to the front entrance and practically exploded out the door, stumbling onto the front stoop as he shoved the door open with more force than needed. He put a hand against the wall and sagged, sucking in lungfuls of icy air, the cold tamping down on the heat that had risen in his face and helping him to collect himself.

After a few more deep breaths, he felt his head clear, and he looked out over the island. He’d been so caught up in his own mind that he hadn’t noticed the Marine vessel being loaded in the port a few hundred yards away. He shook his head; he needed to get his shit together if he was going to deal with Doflamingo today.

Law leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms against his chest, watching various Marines scurry about like little insects whose nest had been disturbed while others barked orders.

After a few minutes of Law watching his men, Smoker climbed the steps and took a seat on the top step, leaving distance between himself and Law.

As the two watched in silence, several soldiers marched the chained Caesar and Monet toward the ship. Caesar continued making high-pitched protests—“Do you know who I am?”, “Do you know who you’re messing with?” and the like—while Monet remained silent. As if drawn to Law, she turned and their eyes met briefly, that look of betrayal still in her gaze. Then she was pushed along toward the ship and the connection broke.

Law exhaled, only then realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Once Doflamingo learned of their arrests as well as of Vergo’s death—he had more spies in the Marines than just Vergo, though even Law didn’t know all their identities—he would undoubtedly retrieve his subordinates and Vergo’s body. He would leverage his connections, and even the Fleet Commander couldn’t refuse the Gorosei.

Law could only hope he’d receive that news once Law and his nakama had escaped Dressrosa.

“What will you do now?” Smoker asked as they watched a string of Caesar’s men, buoyed by strange balloon devices, escorted to the ship by another group of soldiers. “Doflamingo will kill you if you return to Dressrosa.”

That… was not actually true; Law might wish he were dead if Doffy got wind of his betrayal before he and his crew could flee, but he would live until he performed the Perennial Youth Operation. Only then would he be allowed to die—for the sake of Doffy’s immortality. No, it would be his nakama (and Luffy’s crew, now that the crazy captain had decided to involve himself in Law’s affairs) who would pay the ultimate price. But Smoker didn’t need to know that.

Law raised an eyebrow at Smoker’s back. “Why do you care, White Chase-ya? I’m just a no-good pirate.”

“Maybe I don’t like being in debt to pirates,” Smoker retorted. “And if you die, I can’t pay it back.”

Law snorted. “Apologies if my impending death is inconvenient for your conscience.”

Smoker grumbled in response.

They sat in silence for several more minutes, and, surprisingly, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Smoker seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion about Law, and Law simply had too much on his mind to bother with antagonizing the vice admiral. And, if Law were being honest with himself, while he hated the Marines on principle for their part in Flevance’s fall, Smoker was one of the few who had ever shown even an inkling of honor; it was a very grudging sense of respect he found budding toward the vice admiral.

They watched the ship’s continued loading until the lab’s door opened once more, and the Straw Hats spilled out onto the stoop. Law noticed two more figures had joined the group: Kin’emon the samurai and a boy dressed in similar garb. A son? They had shied off to the side of the group on the other side of the doorway from Law.

“Oh, there you are, Torao!” Luffy said, spying Law off to the side. “And Smokey!”

“Straw Hat,” Smoker grumbled, pushing himself to his feet.

“Where are the children?” the cat burglar asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Tashigi is with them,” Smoker said.

“Well, we’re not leaving until we see them off,” Chopper added, coming up next to his crewmate at the front of the group, doing his best to sound authoritative.

Smoker lip curled in annoyance, but he was saved from having to reply by the emergence of the captain and the children from a side entrance of the lab. The swordswoman, with a bright voice and wide smile, directed the children toward the ship. The children laughed and jumped around as they boarded the ship.

“Tashigi!” Smoker called.

The swordswoman looked up from her charges and took in the group standing next to the vice admiral. After murmuring something to the remaining children waiting to board, she headed over to the lab steps.

“Smoker-san,” she greeted.

“These idiots won’t leave until they know the children are taken care of. Tell them where we’re taking them.”

Long Nose and the cyborg protested at being called idiots, but the cat burglar and Chopper ignored them. Their eyes were focused on the swordswoman.

“We’re taking them to be treated by Vegapunk himself,” the captain replied, adjusting her glasses. “He’s agreed to look at the long-term effects of the drugs and work on a treatment. Once they’ve received the care they need, we’ll take them all home. We’re also in the process of contacting their families.”

“That’s a relief,” Chopper said, smiling.

The swordswoman looked at the cat burglar. “I meant what I said earlier; I will protect the children with my life!”

The cat burglar nodded, her expression softening. “I know. Thank you.”

The two women shook hands, and the captain glanced at her superior before heading back to the ship. The children were making their way onto the deck of the ship, calling at the Straw Hats with their thanks. Law was startled to hear even a few thanks hollered in his direction. Considering he hadn’t wanted to get caught up with the children in the first place, he didn’t think he deserved any.

Smoker shook his head and glanced back at the gathered group, eyes meeting Law’s one final time, before he headed back to the ship, corralling the remaining soldiers who had yet to board. The Straw Hats waved as the ship eventually pushed off from the dock and set sail.

“All right!” Luffy called out, grabbing the attention of his crew. “Let’s go! On to Dressroba!”

“Dressrosa,” Law grumbled.

“Shishishi,” Luffy chuckled. “Whatever. Let’s go take down that Mingo!”

He headed off in the direction of the Thousand Sunny, and the rest of the group followed—including Kin’emon and the boy, Law noted. He’d have to account for their presence in his plan. Luffy continued chattering on, mostly to Zoro and Long Nose, though he’d turn back every now and then to meet Law’s eye with a grin.

As they walked, the cat burglar came up next to Law. “I can navigate using the maps we found in the lab, but if you have a better way…”

Law reached into a pocket on the inside of his coat and pulled out an Eternal Pose for Dressrosa. It was the same one Doffy had given Law nearly a decade earlier in the North Blue. He carried it on every mission away from the island. For a moment, Law’s grip tightened on the wooden frame as he considered that there was a good chance neither he nor his nakama would ever leave that island again. Swallowing, he forcibly loosened his fingers and offered it to her. Her eyes lit up.

“That will make things easier!” She looked at the pose for a moment then glanced back at Law. “You said it should take half a day?”

“Yes.”

The cat burglar—Nami—peered up at the sky and narrowed her eyes consideringly before shaking her head. “We’ll have to get further away from the conditions on this weird island before I can get a sense of the weather.”

“Dressrosa is a summer island,” Law supplied. “The weather is rarely poor around it.”

Nami hummed thoughtfully. “That’s promising.”

Law hesitated before adding, “Avoid skies with clouds as much as possible.”

“Why?” Black Leg asked from Law’s other side. He took a drag on his cigarette and raised a curious eyebrow.

Law glanced at him before turning back to Nami. “Doflamingo can use his Devil Fruit to travel in the skies. He uses clouds to do it. If he has any suspicion that I’ve betrayed him, he’ll be out looking for me.”

“Will he have any suspicion?” Black Leg asked as Nami’s eyes widened.

“I… don’t know.” Law had played the call over in his mind repeatedly and still did not know if Doffy had been bluffing. Even if he hadn’t been, there was no telling how quickly he’d hear from his Marine spies about what had happened on Punk Hazard. “Best to assume he does.”

Black Leg pursed his lips but didn’t say anything.

Once they boarded the Thousand Sunny, the Straw Hats spread out to complete their respective jobs for setting sail. Law leaned back against the wall and was joined by Kin’emon and the boy as they stayed out their hosts’ way. Law and the samurai eyed one another. Law didn’t know anything about Kin’emon, other than, as a samurai, he was likely from Wano and that Doffy wanted him kept alive. If Kin’emon was from Wano, Law idly wondered if Doffy’s orders about the man came from Kaido but put the thought out of his mind; it didn’t matter to the task at hand.

Once the Thousand Sunny had pulled away from Punk Hazard and started toward Dressrosa, Law’s Eternal Pose pointing the way, the Straw Hats reconvened on the lawn in the center of the ship. They turned to Law.

“Tell us, Torao-kun,” Nico Robin said, speaking for her crew. “What awaits us in Dressrosa?”

Law took a steadying breath and started to speak.

-----

Two Days Later

Smoker found the Inspector General in his favorite spot, a perch overlooking New Marineford, absently sharing snacks with his beloved goat. He hadn’t been entirely surprised to receive a summons from Marine HQ after the prisoners he’d brought in and the damning report he’d filed about another vice admiral, but he thought this might be a bit more personal, considering the source.

“Inspector General,” Smoker greeted as he came to a stop next to the seated man.

“Smoker,” Sengoku replied, nodding at him.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes,” Sengoku said, adjusting his glasses briefly. “I read your report about the events on Punk Hazard.”

Smoker’s original report had been heavily edited so that the official report had, much like the Alabasta report, given him far more credit than he deserved for what had transpired. It also whitewashed some of the uglier truths Smoker had learned about the base commander of G-5 and the experiments being conducted on the island. But Smoker had a feeling Sengoku was referring to the unedited version. Semi-retired or not, a man like Sengoku would have his ways of getting his hands on that document.

“Sir,” Smoker said neutrally.

Sengoku offered his goat a cracker before glancing at Smoker. “You don’t seem pleased at the accolades being thrown your way for uncovering a traitor so high in the ranks.”

Smoker snorted. “If you read my report, you know I didn’t uncover shit. Sir.”

Sengoku nodded, absently scratching behind the goat’s ears. “Corazon revealed Vergo’s true nature.”

So, he had read the unedited version. “Yes.”

“Tell me, Smoker,” Sengoku said, something careful about his tone that Smoker couldn’t quite place. “What were your impressions of Vice Admiral Vergo? Before this? You worked alongside him at G-5.”

“I thought he was a good leader and a good soldier,” Smoker admitted. “I respected him.” He’d had no reason to suspect the man; his reputation was spotless, and the men of G-5 admired him. It grated on him that he hadn’t noticed the rat. Surely there had been something amiss that Smoker had missed…

But, no. Vergo’s act had been flawless.

Sengoku nodded thoughtfully. “And Corazon killed him.”

“Yes.”

“And what did you make of that, Vice Admiral?”

Smoker frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The second in command of the Donquixote Pirates killing a particularly important spy for his own crew among Marine ranks. Surely that was surprising to you.”

Smoker, even in his unedited report, had skirted around what he’d heard about Corazon’s history. He wasn’t sure why he was keeping the man’s secrets other than the debt he owed him, but something hadn’t sat right in his chest when he’d attempted to make note of all he’d heard. He’d learned to trust his instincts over the years, and they’d told him he’d be better served holding onto that information. Even—maybe especially—the Marines were prone to politics, and Smoker knew that information could be leveraged. He found the fact distasteful, but it was true nonetheless.

But those same instincts were also telling him now that Sengoku was the right person to tell, considering his personal connection to the Donquixote Pirates. It was known amongst the longest-serving Marines that Sengoku’s adopted son had been killed by the Donquixote Pirates while on an undercover mission infiltrating them. Smoker had never met Rosinante, but he’d seen the plaque on the wall of fallen soldiers.

“There seemed to be bad blood between them,” Smoker said after coming to his decision. He didn’t have a full sense of what he’d witnessed between the two men, but he knew enough about long-standing grudges to recognize one when he saw it. “Going back a long way.”

Corazon couldn’t be older than his mid-twenties but had held the title of Corazon for half a decade. Only someone who’d been with the Family for a long time could have risen to second in command—Doflamingo only surrounded himself with the best, which was part of what made his crew so dangerous—so for Corazon to have risen so high so at such a young age likely meant he’d been with them as a child. It was common knowledge that the Family recruited children and raised them to be loyal soldiers, so that would not have been surprising.

The slightest twitch in Sengoku’s eyebrow told Smoker that he was on the right track. Considering the timeline, then, there was a good chance Corazon knew Sengoku’s son and might have answers about the circumstances surrounding his death, which had remained under high level security clearance in the years since. Most Marine lifers felt Sengoku had never truly moved past Rosinante’s death (though they’d never say it in the man’s earshot), but now perhaps he could get some answers—especially if Corazon was attempting to leave the Family and had no reason to keep their secrets any longer.

“I see,” Sengoku finally said, offering the goat another cracker. He offered the bag to Smoker wordlessly, but Smoker shook his head.

Smoker hesitated only a moment before adding, “Corazon let something slip during the fight.”

Sengoku simply nodded at him to continue, obviously recognizing Smoker had left whatever it was out of his report.

“I think he’s a survivor of the White City.”

Sengoku paled, though Smoker had a feeling it wasn’t for the reason most did when Flevance was mentioned. He’d been Fleet Admiral when commands had come from above even him to wipe out the country and everyone in it due to the highly contagious Amber Lead Disease that was killing entire generations.

It was genocide and a shame on any Marine with a sense of honor.

“There were no survivors,” Sengoku said finally, voice curiously choked off.

And even if anyone had managed to escape the slaughter, they should have died years earlier due to Amber Lead Disease. But somehow, Corazon hadn’t.

The more he thought about it, the more Smoker had a feeling it had to do with that Devil Fruit of his. The Ope-Ope no Mi was a miracle surgery fruit, after all.

“There seems to be at least one,” Smoker replied, remembering the fury in Corazon’s voice as he’d railed against what had happened to his family and his home, sheer rage taking over the normally composed man. It was clearly a slip he regretted making, considering the way his expression had soured once he’d realized what he’d said. “It sounded like his parents were doctors, but they were killed with everyone else when Flevance fell. Including a sister.”

Sengoku ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking his age. “I see,” he said after a long moment. He turned to Smoker and gave him a wan smile. “Thank you for telling me.”

The dismissal was clear, but Smoker had one more thing to add. “The traitor, Vergo, didn’t call Corazon by his title. He used a name.”

Sengoku raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He didn’t use a surname. But he called Corazon Law.”

“Law,” Sengoku murmured, as though trying out the name.

Smoker left Sengoku with the name on his tongue, wondering what the former Fleet Admiral would do with the information but deciding it was above his paygrade.

Next chapter

#Tomorrow is my birthday #So a quick update is my gift to you #We're leaving Punk Hazard in this chapter y'all #Trafalgar Law #One Piece #One Piece fanfic #One Piece fanfiction #Caitlin's fic

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marvels-writings · 4 years

Text

When the World is Against Us (7)

Torn Apart

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch) Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: to everyone who actually reads the A/N’s and constantly sees me making fun of my writing plans, the plan for this part was ‘reader goes batshit feral’.

“Captain Rogers, I know you believe what you think you are doing is right,” Vision stated, hovering over the ground. “But for the collective good, you must surrender now.”

The android came to stand behind you, giving you a sympathetic nod before facing the opposing team. You inhaled sharply before turning. The King of Wakanda rolled in beside him, baring his claws. The kid in the spider suit joined you, glancing around nervously.

“What do we do?” Sam asked, looking at Steve for orders.

“We fight.”

Steve started walking forwards, the rest of his team following him. You sighed, tilting your head to the side before following Tony forwards.

“This isn’t gonna end well.” Natasha murmured, jaw clenched.

“Agreed,” You said stiffly.

Taking a deep breath, you clenched your jaw and started running forwards. You locked eyes with Wanda before she looked away from you, shutting her eyes and looking away. You met gazes with Sharon, looking at her apologetically while running.

“They’re not stopping.” The kid commented. You snickered despite the situation.

“Neither are we,” Tony stated.

Everyone chose a target. Wanda went to the air before attacking the kid. You went towards Sharon, trying to ignore the sounds of your family fighting.

“Technically, I won the last time,” Sharon commented, throwing a punch your way. You rolled your eyes and blocked it, swinging a kick under her legs and knocking her off her feet.

“Technicalities don’t matter right now.” You remarked.

Just as the blonde started to get up, you shot one of your widow bites at her, knocking her out. You sighed, muttering an apology and looking around.

The sight made you want to run away.

Everyone was fighting. The sounds of metal clanging, groans, minor explosions filled the air. Anger seemed to fuel everyone. You could barely stand it. You saw your mom fighting Clint and went over to help her.

Natasha almost delivered a perfect kick to Clint, to knock him out. Wanda flung her aside. Your eyes widened as you looked at her. Clint turned to look at you and motioned for her to leave.

Wanda left without looking back.

Flinching at her indifferent, you turned to face Clint. The archer aimed an arrow at you, you raised an eyebrow and ducked under it when he shot. You ran past him as he tried to reload and shoved an elbow in his back. You quickly got him on his back. Your knees were shoved into his shoulders to get him to drop the weapon.

Clint flipped you on your back, pinning you down and preparing a blow.

“Sorry about this kid.” He apologized.

You shut your eyes, expecting a hard blow. But you felt the pressure leave your body and someone asking you questions. Opening your eyes, you saw your mom helping you sit up.

“I’m okay,” You assured, rubbing your wrist where Clint had pinned you down.

“We need to get you out of here,” Natasha stated, helping you up.

“Mom, I’m not leaving.” You argued, holding her back by her wrist. Natasha began to protest when Tony almost got blown out of the sky.

“Stay safe,” Natasha commanded, you nodded and backed up behind where she was.

Suddenly, a man in a silver and red suit, who you had identified as Ant-Man grew as big as a plane. He held Rhodey by his foot, holding him there and laughing.

“What the actual fuck?” You muttered, looking at the giant holding Rhodey.

Natasha gave you a pointed look.

“Yeah, I know, sorry.” You muttered, turning to face the quinjet where Steve and Bucky were running towards the jet.

“Let’s go.” Natasha ran past you, tapping you on the shoulder to follow her.

You sighed and sprinted behind her, looking around the battlefield for Wanda. Unable to find her, you tried to shut out the sounds of explosions and arguing around you. You ripped out your comms and put them in your pocket, unable to stand the constant arguing while making your way there.

Finally, you arrived at the jet and turned around to see Vision blasting the tower to block the way to the jet. Wanda held it up for them, using all of her strength to hold it up so they could make it. Rhodey used a sonic blaster to stun her. He kept it going longer than he needed to.

“Rhodey, she’s down.” You shouted into the comms after taking them out of your pocket.

Rhodey muttered a quick apology and stopped the blaster as Steve and Bucky made their way into the hanger.

“You’re not gonna stop,” Natasha said, walking up to them.

Steve looked scared, almost guilty when she said that. He looked from you to Natasha apologetically, thinking he would have to fight you.

“You know I can’t,” Steve stated.

You noticed T’challa behind them. You turned to see Natasha lifting her widow blasters at him. You almost groaned and lifted your widow bites.

“You’re gonna regret this,” You whispered when Natasha shot the first widow bite.

“I probably am,” Natasha murmured. You started shooting widow bites at him.

The widow bites hit the suit, but T’challa paused, still heading forwards. He ripped the first few off his body. You continued to shoot them. He ripped them off and leaped into the air, trying to catch the jet.

Unable to catch Bucky, he turned to Natasha angrily. You snuck out before they started arguing. Eventually, you found a way through the rubble to make it to Wanda. Vision held her head in his lap.

“Get. The hell. Away. From. Her.” You growled, lifting your arm to shoot him with an electric shock. Vision backed off instantly. You knelt next to her.

“Why the hell did you do this?” You murmured, brushing the hair out of her face as she looked up at you.

“I wanted to help them,” Wanda answered, you sighed.

“Wanda, you didn’t have to.” You whispered, rubbing your eyes with one hand.

“Neither did you.” The redhead whispered.

You opened your mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. But the sound of Vision shooting something out of the sky broke you out of your thoughts.

Vision shot Rhodey instead of Sam.

The iron suit tumbled out of the sky, you covered your mouth and got to your feet. Wanda followed you, reaching towards your hand. Her fingers accidentally brushed yours. She pulled away instantly. But you took her hand, taking comfort in her gentle touch. Wanda looked hesitant and faced you, but you were facing Vision.

“Vis, what the hell did you do?” You demanded, turning to face him.

“I was distracted.” He apologized, you raised an eyebrow.

“By what? Me talking?” You asked, crossing your arms angrily.

“No, I didn’t see this happening.” He answered, you glared at him and turned around to see hoards of FBI agents making their way to you.

“This day can’t get much worse.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“Let’s get out of here.” You squeezed Wanda’s hand and pulled her away from them.

“Ms. Romanoff, we need to take her with us.” One of the agents stated, you raised an eyebrow and tugged Wanda behind you, shielding her with your body.

“You have no right to do that.” You stated, he pulled out a warrant to show you a statement from the secretary of state.

Clenching your jaw, you pushed the statement aside and hid Wanda behind you, the action surprising her. The redhead glanced nervously from you to the officers. Natasha made her way over to you and put one hand on your shoulder. You looked from her to the FBI agents.

“You aren’t putting in her in some cell like an animal.” You backed away from them, trying to protect your girlfriend. Wanda became tempted to stay behind you, she put one hand on your shoulder and squeezed your hand.

“Honey-” Natasha began.

“NO!” You shouted, about to run away when Wanda was torn apart from you, her hands leaving yours quickly.

You turned around to see the FBI agents cuffing her. Wanda didn’t protest, she tried to make her way closer to you, but they held her back. You shoved the agent in front of you aside with the intent of getting her free.

“Get the fuck away from her!” You yelled, shoving them aside angrily.

“Please stay back.” One of the agents put one arm in front of you.

You shoved him away from you, opening your mouth to protest when you saw one of the agents open a shock collar. You reached forwards and tried to take it from him.

“She isn’t an animal!” You defended her.

Natasha sighed and tried to pull you away. You screamed and tried to shove them away from her, furious at them for treating her this way. Couldn’t they see? Your family was already torn apart. All you had was your mom and Wanda, you didn’t want to lose her.

“We need her to stay back.” One of the agents said to your mom while you tried to get the shock collar.

Wanda stared at you. No one had ever defended her like this. HYDRA had always put her in a shock collar. They had always kept her like an animal. No one had ever dared to fight for her.

Until you.

“I know, please just give me a minute,” Natasha begged, trying to pull you away.

“Y/n, look at me,” Wanda said, you turned to look at her, inches away from punching one of the agents.

“Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.” Wanda pleaded.

The redhead knew you would fight every single one of them for her. It made her heart swoon to know you would fight someone for her. But now was not the time.

You tried to protest again, do anything to get your girlfriend away from them. But your mom hooked one arm under each of your armpits and pulled you away as you protested. You broke out of her grip, about to head over and get Wanda back.

But a needle was injected into your neck. You fell forwards into someone’s arms as the world faded into black. You felt someone speak inside your head, unsure if you imagined it.

“I love you,” Wanda’s voice said in your head.

| Part 8 |

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @username23345 , @ohfuckno , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: Thoughts?

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years

Text

The BNHA Group Chat Fic Nobody Asked For

Pairings: Todoroki Touya (Dabi)/Mr Compress (Sako Atsuhiro), Shimura Tenko (Shigaraki Tomura)/Chisaki Kai (Overhaul)/Kurono Hari (Chrono), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)/Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)/Shirakumo Oboro (Loud Cloud), Fukukado Emi (Ms. Joke)/Kayama Nemuri (Midnight), Bakugo Katsuki/Kaminari Denki/Kirishima Eijiro, Iida Tenya/Monoma Neito/ Aoyama Yuuga

Word Count: 1,637 Words

Summary: LOV, internships, and Tenko unintentionally reveals a secret some of his classmates keep hidden from even Aizawa.

Warnings: Abduction Mention, Kidnapping Mention, Caps, Death Mention, Injury Mention, Amputation Mention, Prosthetic Mention, Cursing, Blood Mention, Teen/Underage Pregnancy Mention, Pregnancy Mention, Broken Bones Mention, Drugs Mention, Adoption Mention, Half Blind Character, Deaf Characters, Mostly Mute Character (due to a different medical issue), Selectively Mute Character, let me know if I should add anything else.

Notes: In this AU, Hisashi Shimura married Nao Shimura and Inko Midoriya had Hana with Nao then Izuku and Tenko with Inko and Nao respectively before Tenko's power went out of control and killed his parents.

Notes: Honoka (or 和花) means harmony flower. She's named after Hana Shimura. Nanami (or 七海) means seven seas. She's named after Nana Shimura. Akiyama(秋山) means autumn mountain, Sekai (世界) means world, Ayaka (彩花) means colorful flower, Akari (明り) means light/brightness.

Usernames: We Are Number One™ Aizawa: Dadzawa, Aoyama: immafiringmahlaser, Ashido: princessbubblegumknockoff, Asui: Galvan, Iida: Emergency Exit, Uraraka: 9.8, Ojiro: tailfloof, Kaminari: Pichu, Kirishima: baby shark, Koda: youredoingamazingsweetie, Sato: GuyFieriIsGod, Shoji: Cthulhu, Jirou: Jack Skellington, Sero: Spider-Man, Tokoyami: EdgarAllanCrows, Todoroki: WHERE?, Hagakure: cena, Bakugo: WHAT?, Midoriya: SmolMight, Mineta: Mineta, Shinsou: exhausted, Yaoyorozu: TheGreatCreator, Kurono: stopwatch, Chisaki: donthugmeimscared, Yukimura: choticgaydisaster, Bubaigawara: shadowclonejutsu, Shimura: idontfeelsogood, Awase: illrememberyouallintherapy, Kaibara: IDOWHATIWANT, Kamakiri: scyther, Kuroiro: itsmeyaboy, Kendo: Akimichi, Kodai: deadinside, Komori: shroomgurl, Shiozaki: wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs, Shishida: furry, Shoda: cryptid, Tsunotori: mylittlepony, Tsubaraba: airbender, Tetsutetsu: Iron Man, Tokage: t-rex costume, Fukidashi: glorifiedtextbubble, Honenuki: Eren Jaeger/spookyscaryskeletons, Bondo: Slimer, Monoma: HopeSummers, Yanagi: iLiEdImDyInGiNsIdE, Rin: snek, Toga: mystique, Sako: lostmymarbles, Hikiishi: queenofmagnetism, Iguchi: eye gucci, Shinokanri: stardust

Usernames: Emos Anonymous Kaminari: blackcloakedbrides, Shoji: fryingpan, Jirou: greentwentyfourhours, Tokoyami: myscientificinfatuation, Todoroki: twentyoneplotpoints, Bakugo: immobileinwhite, Midoriya: falldownboy, Shinsou: stabtheveil, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Chisaki: plummetingininverse, Yukimura: anxietyintheclub, Shimura: nappingwithsirens, Kuroiro: thousandfootcane, Kodai: marianaspit, Monoma: entiretimelow, Yanagi: recentyearsday, Sako: halfminutetomars, Aizawa: hollywoodlivingdead, Shouji: fryingpan, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Aoyama: phantomtown, Honenuki: visualizedragon, Sako: halfminutetomars, Awase: distressparade, Shinokanri: simplestrategy

Usernames: UA Teachers Are Tired™ Eraserhead/Aizawa: grumpy scarf cat, Present Mic/Yamada: screeching cockatiel, Midnight/Nemuri: chaotic goth gay Ingenium/Iida: gotta go fast, AllMight/Toshinori: actual sunshine, Vlad King/Kan: bloody hell, Power Loader/Majima: speechtotext, Ectoplasm: needalegup?, Snipe: kazoo cowboy, Cementoss: concrete block, Blackmist/Kurogiri: goth portals

Me? A Bitch? More Likely Than You’d Think-Chapter 8

10:03 am

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: So, I heard someone's operating the LOV again?

idontfeelsogood: No, it's inactive. There shouldn't be anyone in it, all of us are here, in UA becoming heroes, none of us would become villains again EVER. At the very most, drop out and live life out as a normal couple, but never become villains again. We all talked about this.

mystique: yeah, if we did, we would have told you heroes already about that one of us and have them put with Koku and the two creeps

Dadzawa: Well, someone's running it and it seems they had a meeting with the yakuza and I'm afraid I need all of you to be under constant supervision by a pro hero for a short while.

stopwatch: If it proves our innocence we shall do it.

2:01 pm

We Are Number One™

lostmymarbles: @chaoticgaydisaster Agency is fun. I really like working under Sir Nighteye.

chaoticgaydisaster: That's because you're both really serious and you get along very well.

lostmymarbles: Perhaps.

lostmymarbles: Oh, we're already going on a patrol! I'll call you when I come back from patrol, honey!

chaoticgaydisaster: I love you, you absolute dork.

3:59 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: I've just received word that Atsuhiro Sako has been kidnapped during his patrol.

chaoticgaydisaster: GET MY HUSBAND BACK THEN!

Dadzawa: Calm down, you need to be rational. He should be fine. They're looking for him as we speak.

chaoticgaydisaster: Please don't let him die? I love him, I need him.

Dadzawa: I can't promise you anything sadly, I'm not a part of the rescue team right now but they'll involve me if it becomes more serious.

chaoticgaydisaster: Can I have a Good Dad™ hug?

Dadzawa: Of course, come to the teacher's dorms, Hitoshi is already here stealing said hugs.

5:25 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: I have confirmation that they've found Sako. He's mostly fine.

WHERE?: What do you mean 'mostly'!? That's my brother-in-law!

Dadzawa: It looks as though his left arm has been ripped off but they're currently working on both healing him and attaching a prosthetic that would allow him to still channel his quirk through the arm.

mystique: Has anyone seen Tami?

eye gucci: She was with the Fatgum Agency I think.

baby shark: I haven't seen her for a while. She showed up with me and then she just kinda disappeared near...oh

stardust: what is 'oh'? What happened to our favorite girl?

baby shark: She disappeared at around 2 or 3 just like when Sako disappeared.

Dadzawa: I'll send the search team out for her too.

6:19 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: Magne is back! She's in the ICU recovering now, she needed some pretty strong healing so she'll be out of commission for quite a while. We haven't closed the investigation but you LOV kids need to know the message stapled on your friends.

Dadzawa: [pic of two papers reading 'here take this back, we don't need him yakuza' and 'I will always run the League.']

Dadzawa: Do these mean anything to any one of you?

idontfeelsogood: I'm so done. I've been hiding from a little twerp, I can't even believe I was scared of him. He's going too far, like always, and I thought he'd changed like we did but he didn't. I'm going to sort this shit out. Send a search team by tomorrow morning at 6:30 if nobody sees me by then, I have some business to take care of.

Dadzawa: wait, AllMight will have my head if you get hurt!

idontfeelsogood is now offline

Dadzawa: fuck.

6:34 PM

UA Teachers Are Tired™

grumpy scarf cat: so it looks like Tenko is going off-grid for what I'm going to call a 'private investigation' into the revived LOV. He's apparently taken his hero supervisor with him because Ragdoll is gone with him and he's going to, and I quote, "sort this shit out". and requested a search team if he doesn't show back up in 24 hours.

yeet yeet bitch: yeesh, you really can't catch a break, huh, Shou.

grumpy scarf cat: I'm starting to wish I expelled them at this point.

gotta go fast: bullshit, they're our disciples and you know it.

yeet yeet bitch: you're right but why say it?

9:35 PM

We Are Number One™

donthugmeimscared: No sign of Tenko yet, Hari, I'm getting worried.

stopwatch: Me too, but we need to trust he can do this.

shadowclonejutsu: he should be fine, guys. he'll be okay.

6:17 AM

We Are Number One™

donthugmeimscared: Almost 12 hours

Dadzawa: I know, Kai.

donthugmeimscared: Do you think he'll be okay, Mr. Aizawa?

Dadzawa: honestly, I don't know but I'm here to offer you hugs if you need them.

donthugmeimscared: Thank you but I can't do hugs right now, too constricting.

6:30 AM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: the search party is officially being sent out to get him.

4:17 PM

UA Teachers Are Tired™

screeching cockatiel: we found him and we have the traitor under arrest. Tenko looked worse for wear so he's at the hospital already

actual sunshine: Who's the traitor?

screeching cockatiel: Minoru Mineta.

actual sunshine: I'm glad he was arrested.

gotta go fast: Yagi, are you and Tenko okay? you've always sympathetic when it was someone underage being arrested.

actual sunshine: it becomes null when my mentor's son gets hurt. blood to me or not, I can't feel sympathy for someone who's hurt him. he didn't have a childhood to begin with and I won't let anyone take what little is left of it from him.

screeching cockatiel: is he okay, Yagi?

actual sunshine: Since he's in my temporary custody until Ms. Midoriya can finalize her adoption paperwork, they contacted me first with his injury report and I would like that purple little shit to burn for what he's done.

yeet yeet bitch: Do you wanna elaborate?

actual sunshine: His leg is broken. The leg he had an injury in before. They have to fix it again.

yeet yeet bitch: Shit.

actual sunshine: Along with that, he's been deemed unable for further stress in the form of training and extraneous activities because the hospital confirmed he's eight months pregnant and needs to deliver early due to the drugs Mineta forced into his bloodstream.

yeet yeet bitch: Fuck, this isn't good.

actual sunshine: I'm pushing Ms. Midoriya's paperwork up through the courts as an emergency adoption due to the situation of him being her technically being his step-mother and her son being his only remaining relative, even if only by half of his blood and him needing a stable family after the birth of a child.

yeet yeet bitch: Hopefully they'll get it done quickly.

actual sunshine: Until then, I need to go offline and be there for him as his only parental figure and the only other person allowed in the delivery room.

screeching cockatiel: What do we tell the children? Tenko's boyfriends?

actual sunshine: Hari was already called to the hospital but they cannot confirm it's his child so I'll be the only familiar face to young Tenko in the room for the delivery.

actual sunshine: I must go.

actual sunshine is now offline

8:17 PM

UA Teachers Are Tired™

actual sunshine: Tenko is fine, out of surgery for the C-Section and in recovery now. the two little girls are fine too, both are a little smaller but that's expected since they're both premature and Tenko never gained much weight during the pregnancy.

grumpy scarf cat: I still can't believe he's been pregnant his whole stay at UA. hell, he was probably pregnant during the USJ incident at the beginning of the year.

actual sunshine: You're probably right and I don't like that idea, Aizawa.

grumpy scarf cat: me either but that's the reality of the situation.

10:24 PM

We Are Number One™

idontfeelsogood: Out of surgery in recovery. Got drugged and they needed to induce me there to give birth, which I didn't even know I was pregnant. Two healthy little girls named Shimura Honoka and Shimura Nanami.

chaoticgaydisaster: Welcome to the teen mom club, Tenko.

WHERE?: We have meetups on Mondays and Fridays and have playdates with the kids.

idontfeelsogood: I thought you two were the only ones with kids though?

wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs: No, I have a one year old son, he is the light of my life.

WHAT?: Well, I mean...

princessbubblegumknockoff: I best be going! Wouldn't want to burn down the house with the water I left running.

spookyscaryskeletons: Oh, would you look at that, it's time to go to sleep and never speak of this again.

Dadzawa: wait, we have seven of you now? I thought we just went up to three!

Dadzawa: And Honenuki, I never expected you to be a teen parent.

spookyscaryskeletons: Whaaaaaat? Nooooo. I never said that. I said I was going to bed! I'm just going to bed!

Dadzawa: Suspicious.

spookyscaryskeletons: I certainly don't have a one year old son named Akiyama. Nope, not at all.

wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs: My son's name is Sekai.

princessbubblegumknockoff: Honestly, I thought you'd read that in my file. I was basically just out of the two day hospital stay when I took the entrance exams to get into UA.

baby shark: Can confirm, my moms watched her daughter that day.

princessbubblegumknockoff: Her name is Ayaka.

WHAT?: You literally met Akari when you visited my house.

Dadzawa: that wasn't your parents' child!? That was a ten month old child!

WHAT?: No, I fucking made that!

Dadzawa: I shouldn't be shocked I got six of the seven teen parents in this school. well, if you need me, please don't hesitate to ask me for help.

WHAT?: Well, I want to bring Akari to the dorms because she'll be safer here. She's been staying with Auntie Inko for a month or so now.

Dadzawa: of course.

Taglist: @logan-sanders-enthusiast @luckyicekitsune @whippedbel @lgbtforeverything @pinecone-chomper @mikmacmoo @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @purplespiderstormcloud @stankyratman @king-of-the-oranges @headcannons-and-random-things @fear-ze-queer @turtleluv799 @ymmm-someone

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whimperwoods · 4 years

Text

Arms of the Enemy (D&D Whump) - 8

This is Part 8!

Here are part 1, part 2 , part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, and part 7!

Castor is a warlock, in service to the Great Old One and the Dark Emperor, in that order. Ed is a fighter, a knight and battle master in the service of the True King of Lumenea. They have always been enemies. In the space between the Old One and the Emperor, they might be able to become something else.

(Also Ed has emotions and Castor has a plan b.)

tw: panic attack (maybe?), tw: aftermath of torture, tw: feelings of shame and self-loathing, tw: brief suicidal ideation, tw: powerful mood swings, tw: Ed’s general bad time coping,

taglist: @redwingedwhump, @fanastywhump, @insanitywishes @bluebadgerwhump,@burtlederp, @newandfiguringitout, @kawhump

Side note: The d&d mechanics stuff is more a fun challenge for me than necessary for world-building, but I DO feel I should mention I only just realized warlocks get their spell slots back on a short rest and not only a long one? On the one hand I now understand why it’s an actually playable class, on the other hand, I have already established that Castor only gets his back on a long rest, so I’m beefing up all his invocations to compensate.

***************

Castor felt deeply, deeply foolish. He was on the ceiling, but now both of them were visible and Amara was shouting “Hey,” and they were in big trouble. He muttered an invocation under his breath and flung a wave of magic behind him, slowing down everyone on the stairs, and kept running. Hopefully, it would take their pursuers longer to look up than it took him to get out of the line of sight of the stairs and up into some kind of dark corner.

<<Do you trust me?>> he asked Ed.

The other man was silent, his presence a mental weight against the edge of Castor’s awareness, but just as Castor was ducking into an embrasure and trying to keep both of them out of the dim light that seeped through the arrow loop inside, he got an answer.

*****

<<Do you trust me?>>

Ed wanted to vomit. Of course he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn’t. But of course he did. He had to. He thought, all of a sudden, of his hand in the mage’s, last night. “Squeeze my hand if it’s ok to move you,” as if he’d had any choice then, as if he had any choice now. But he’d done it. He’d done it. A contract. It was done.

Ed was still trying to breathe when they stopped moving and he realized he hadn’t been focusing his eyes, hadn’t seen a thing as they slipped into a tiny space that, he realized a long moment later, was meant for an archer. Did he trust Castor?

<<Yes>> he answered, his voice a whisper even in their minds. His face flushed with shame. He was a disgrace. He was either lying or telling the truth and he didn’t know which was worse. Why had Castor asked him? Why was he pretending Ed got to decide? Ed had decided one thing, and now they were visible and hiding and he didn’t have any more plan than the warlock did.

He realized he was shaking, so hard he was sure Castor could feel it. They were visible. They were visible, and Castor had no plan because Castor was a planless idiot. But he had no plan, either, so apparently he was, too.

He could feel Castor’s presence in his mind even as the man stayed silent, a gentle pressure he could feel even though he suspected he shouldn’t, and it was almost comforting. His breathing eased slightly.

<<Ok>> Castor said, <<So, technically I can be a little bit invisible any time? Only a little bit invisible. And only in shadows. But the problem is it’s only me. So I’m gonna need to uh - well. This is the best place I could think of to leave you. It’s uh - it’s hidden, mostly, and it’s safer than the ground.>>

Ed instinctively tightened his arms around Castor’s neck and shoulders. <<No!>>

He could feel Castor almost-answer, could hear him almost-speak, and anger washed over him. His words came out hollow, ringing empty between their minds because the flood of emotion running through Ed was too big to fit into them.

<<No,>> he told the mage, <<No, you’re the one who brought me out here. You’re the one who started all this. You brought me out here. I could have been - could - have been - >> He knew what he could have been. He could have been dead, or much farther on his way to it, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he didn’t want to be dead, and he was still rambling in Castor’s mind in spite of himself.

<<It’s your fault I’m alive. It’s your fault I’m alive and not in my cell and they’re going to punish me for it. They’re going to punish me for it.>> His stomach felt cold and solid, and he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of his captors or himself, saying things he meant and didn’t mean and couldn’t mean. He was shaking. Oh gods, he was shaking.

<<They won’t.>> Castor’s voice was soft. Gentle. Ed only half heard it. <<They won’t. I have . . . things. There’s more I can do. I’ll be with you the whole time, if you’ll let me in. And I won’t let them hurt you. I’d been planning to hide you here in the fortress, but the game’s up for both of us so now we’re onto plan B and I’m getting you out of here. I just need you to hold on. I just have some things to steal first, and I’m the only one who can be invisible this way. And then I’ll be back. I promise.>>

Ed felt hot where he was angry and cold where he was afraid, and a great sucking tornadic hole in the middle, tearing him apart. Sir Edmond of Lumenea was not this. He was not so small. So afraid. So dependent. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. And he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t want to die. He wanted to be alive. He wanted to be alive.

Castor stood on the side of the wall and rearranged both of them awkwardly, laying Ed down on the tiny patch of floor and tucking his legs in as tightly as they would go. Ed almost cried out at the pain, but forced himself to hold it in, keeping the noise down to a soft grunt he had to hope no one heard under the chaos of low, slowed-down voices shouting several yards away.

Oh. Sounds. That was right. Sounds. Sounds. He hadn’t been listening to the head-sounds, and he had to not make real sounds. At least, he had to not make them here. <<Help me look out,>> he demanded, off topic and with his head still reeling dizzily, <<Help me see, I need to know where we are.>>

*****

Castor’s spine felt electric, prickling with the sense that something was wrong with Ed. He knelt on the wall, making the most of his spider climb as he adjusted himself within the tiny space to lay a hand on Ed’s cheek and turn the man’s face toward him. He looked deeply into the knight’s eyes, trying to pick apart what was fear and what was something else - whatever it was that wasn’t right.

Instead, he suddenly felt awash in a wave of confused emotions, fear and anger and despair flooding out of Ed and almost overwhelming him.

<<No,>> he said gently, trying to keep his voice even and not let on that he’d felt unasked-for reverberations that strong. <<Just stay. It’ll be ok. I promise.>>

The wave of anger that crashed across Castor’s mind was purer and clearly intentional, a mental shove that drove him backward in surprise, making him let go of Castor’s face and sit back into his heels.

<<So that’s it, then,>> Ed said bitterly, <<All that and in the end you think I’m useless. I can’t help. You don’t want me. You’re just going to leave me here with nothing like I’m useless.>>

This was so not the time for a big argument. Especially not when he remembered all the things that weren’t anger that he’d felt before Ed started lashing out.

Castor breathed deeply, centering himself, and then leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Ed’s, pushing as much calm, care, and intent through their mental link as he could. <<Ed, I’m coming back for you. I swear. I - I swear by my master, I’m coming back for you. I just can’t steal things with you on my back.>>

Ed shuddered underneath him, another reverberation from Ed’s mind washing over Castor’s again, the same confusing blend, but with the anger leaking out, leaving a flash of cold and sorrow before it faded away again.

The knight’s hand wrapped around Castor’s wrist. <<Let me help you. I just need a view of what’s below us. And an idea where you’re going.>> His voice was sad, now, thrumming with something that hurt to listen to.

<<Alright,>> he answered, not sure he had any other real option, against that kind of hurt. <<But we have to be careful.>>

<<Alright,>> Ed agreed.

Getting a good peek outward took some doing, but they managed, and Castor was surprised to hear a loud clattering noise a good distance away from their hiding place. Their pursuers were still slowed, but barely, the spell on the edge of running out. It was a relief to hear the people below shout slowly about following the noise. He pulled Ed back into their arrow loop.

<<There.>> Ed sounded exhausted. <<Done.>>

Castor didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t know what to make of any of this, really. Any time he tried to think it through, things all got tangled, both because this was complicate and because he never seemed to be able to get a bead on Ed’s mind, or perhaps his feelings. <<Thanks,>> he answered, after a moment’s adjusting to what had happened.

<<I'm, uh. I’m a little bit magic.>> Ed was starting to sound more himself, and Castor wasn’t sure if it was because of or in spite of his clear exhaustion. Either way, it was a relief, if a small one.

<> Castor wasn’t sure whether he should ask about it or not, but he was sure he needed to get his supplies and get them out of here, so he saved the question for later.

<<Sorry about not mentioning before,>> Ed added.

<<Well, at least I know you have that trick if something happens. And I can keep an eye on this place while I’m gone, if you’ll let me.>>

<<What do you mean?>>

Castor found himself suddenly unable to look the knight in the eyes. <<If you’ll let me, I can see and hear what you see and hear. As long as we keep the link going, I can blink out of my own senses and into yours. It’s uh - I don’t do it a ton. But I can check in every couple of minutes to make sure you’re still alright.>>

A twinge of surprise pulsed through their mental link and Castor wondered, passively, whether their unusually strong link might mean some day Ed could look through his eyes, too. The surprise backed off into silence, but Castor let Ed think through it, just listening to the footsteps below and waiting for an answer.

<<Yeah, alright,>> the knight finally said, <<How do I know when you turn it back off?>>

<<I dunno. But we both have to be willing for it to work. So if you don’t want me to see what you see, you can shut me out. I just won’t be able to reopen from a distance so if you do that before I get back, I won’t be able to get to you unless you’re still here.>>

<<Got it.>>

<>

The knight’s fingers wrapped around Castor’s wrist again. <<Done.>>

Castor twisted his arm until he could hold Ed’s wrist, too. Then he focused on the half-prayer that would open the link, whispering the invocation under his breath as quietly as he could.

*****

Ed had expected to feel it when the connection between the two of them changed, but instead he was alerted to it working by a deep gasp from Castor. The mage let go of Ed’s arm and slapped his hand over his own mouth to keep from crying out, and when his voice started up in Ed’s head, it sounded tense and pained.

<<I’ve got your skin, too. The senses of it, I mean. Touch. I’ve got your sense of touch. Gods.>>

The hand Castor had against the wall, stabilizing his disorienting sideways kneel, was quaking faintly, and when he moved the other hand away from his mouth, it was shaking much harder, shaking visibly, like Ed was sure his own did, these days.

For a moment, he felt pity for the mage, but then a wave of anger came behind it. Why should he feel bad? Why should he pity a man for suddenly sharing in the pain of what his own people had done? Why should he feel bad for his old enemy when he’d never asked him to climb into his mind and body, when he’d never asked for any of this.

Pity and anger warred in his chest as he listened to Castor’s body take deep, gasping breaths, like he was trying to steady himself against the pain.

<<Sorry,>> the mage gasped again, <<Sorry, I didn’t mean to - fuck. I think while I’m in there - we both have to calm down together. I can feel your heart racing in there. That’s. I’m not. It’s just supposed to be sight and sound. It’s. I hate it. I see me but don’t feel me. That’s new. Fuck.>>

Ed timed his breaths to Castor’s body’s breathing, feeling his tangle of emotions start to fade again, unsustainable. He was tired. Gods, he was tired. They’d only just woken up and come here and he was already so tired. Slowing his breaths just made it harder to fight it, harder to focus on anything but the pain and the exhaustion and his presence in his own body.

<<Ok,>> Castor said, <<Ok. Ok. Back in a moment. Gotta make sure it works.>>

He hadn’t felt Castor get closer before, but now he felt him leave, the feeling of surprise he hadn’t realized was coming from Castor easing and the mage’s voice quieting just slightly as he rambled more <<Ok. Alright. Ok>>s.

Castor’s return was announced by another deep, pained gasp of air from the mage’s body, but this time Ed felt Castor’s presence solidifying in his mind.

He felt no particular sensation that told him Castor was on his left side, but sensed it somehow regardless, moving his right hand almost instinctively to clasp his own left shoulder comfortingly.

<<Oh,>> Castor whispered, right there and so, so quiet, <<Oh, Ed. I’m. I knew, but - I didn’t.>>

Something about this, about holding his own shoulder to touch Castor, about the half-daze of knowing things he couldn’t know, sensing things that weren’t there, cut through him to the core. <> he answered the mage, <>

Castor moved fast this time, out of Ed’s mind and into his own body again before Ed had finished realizing what he’d said. A moment later, Ed had processed the fact that he’d begged and not begged, said what he shouldn’t and meant it and felt nothing bad in the moment of it, and Castor’s hand came down gently to rest over his own, warm and comforting.

<>

Ed couldn’t possibly answer. He couldn’t. Something had broken open again, something real was obvious and aching and right there in the open where Castor couldn’t miss it. He shoved against the other man’s presence in their little arrow loop, but he knew without asking that whatever his mind or heart or soul had managed of a shove hid nothing of the whatever-it-was this extra closeness had cut its way down to.

Castor straightened up, peeked around the edge of the embrasure, and hurried outside and away, into the shadows where he’d be invisible, apparently.

Ed laid where he’d been left, feeling like a crab cracked open, the meat inside exposed to the open air. It ached, but it was a good ache, and he didn’t have the energy to hate it. Tears slipped from his eyes and he didn’t stop them, letting them flow silently down his cheeks and leaving alone the question of where they were coming from. It was dangerous, with him like this. Too dangerous. He breathed, and cried, and wondered when he’d feel Castor’s mind drawing closer again.

*****

Castor’s body ached faintly in all the places Ed hurt, a ghost of the way it felt to look through the man’s eyes. It wouldn’t let Castor go. He moved as fast as he could without alerting anyone, the ache lingering somewhere underneath the skin it didn’t belong to. He moved. Shadow. Shadow. Ache. He planned each move as he made the one before it, hurrying from shadow to shadow, where he’d be invisible, disappearing into the blind spots of the universe. He needed to hurry.

Lost in the shadows, he ached.

#whump #d&d whump #castor and ed #aftermath of torture #suicidal ideation tw #mood swings #shame #self-loathing #psychic links #hurt/comfort #probably? a bit?#they were really supposed to get farther into plan b but ed's more alert today and by alert i mean SO confused and mood swingy #castor steal things quickly and come back challenge #i want to write y'all in safety #pls cooperate #note to readers i cannot guarantee they will cooperate #feel like this installment is a bit melodramatic tbh lads #enjoyed it tho so melodramatic is what u get

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thekitchensnk · 4 years

Text

and the spider lilies bloomed in the fall (chapter 22)

Rating: T Warnings: Violence - sadism, murder Pairing: Gin/Ran Part 1: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12 Part 2: Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21 Part 3: Chapter 22

“They say that lovers doomed never to see each other again still see the higanbana growing along their path, even to this day.”

A girl collapses on a dusty road one day. A boy takes her home.

The girl lives.

—

(The boy doesn’t.)

What kind of beast are you, Ichimaru Gin?

What are you becoming?

(What could drive a man to kill a god?)

It is a cloudy night. There is not a star to be seen as he sits, his sword flat on his lap, and waits. The air is calm, the night is still, the sky is gray, and he waits and he waits and he waits whilst the moon ripens behind the clouds. The student barracks are empty. Everyone has long since made the journey home since graduation, to warm and joyous families keen to celebrate their success and the prospect of their glowing futures. The halls are silent.

(He had also made the long journey home the day before, out into the dark woods of the far flung districts of Rukongai. Such a journey - a journey which would take an ordinary person weeks of foot-travel - had taken him mere hours. But there had been no warm and loving family to return to, no celebration of his success. The house had been empty but for a letter written long ago on a torn piece of sack cloth.)

Empty.

This is good. There will be no witnesses - no one to see him leave. No one to see him return.

It would not do to be seen coming back from the site of a murder.

A lurid, jittery excitement coils up in him - the sort of excited anticipation a child feels on the day of their birthday. He tries to quell it, but he can’t. The occasion warrants more caution than this, more ritual sanctity. Everything rests on the outcome of tonight. If it were to go wrong… It is no excuse to play, to indulge himself in a little petty cruelty. He has to be quick; he has to be sharp. This murder is not for him- it is for her, and so he should treat it with the seriousness it deserves.

Everything he has done has been for her.

But, he cannot help but think, squirming with the excitement of it all, it will be fun to see how it goes.

He is a prodigy, a genius, a wonder child - no one has ever graduated the academy as quickly as him, not in a thousand years. His opponent (victim) is a seated officer, and not just that, but a third seat, third only in power to the Captain and Vice-Captain.

This might end up bein’ more difficult than I gave credit for, he muses. But he can do it. He knows he can.

After all, he has to.

He cannot dampen the small thrills running through him, the urge to whistle, the brightness shining in him. It is beyond him to feel any kind of remorse for the pain he is about to inflict. He will enjoy it too much, and for once, his cause is righteous.

Tonight he should be calm. Tonight he should be still. If tonight goes to plan, there will be only one man standing in between him and the satisfaction of his vengeance and his labours will almost be at an end.

The thought makes him giddy with a twinned delight - one part ecstasy in the anticipation of bloodlust, the other part a tenderness so soft it hurts.

He turns his attention to his sword in a bid to distract himself. It is a short blade, a blade perfectly sized for a child-murderer’s hands, and his face shines in the reflection in its blade.

Shinso. Shinso, he sings to his sword happily, keen to share his excitement with someone.

But if Shinso has something to say now, it is keeping it to itself. Gin waits a moment for a response, and then aims a mental kick at his sword.

It says nothing, and he frowns in annoyance.

The night before he had walked into the darkness in his mind, slipping down, down, down into the empty hole where his sword’s spirit dwells within him. The labyrinthine dark is as familiar to him now as the sight of his own hands. He had spent long sleepless nights at the academy learning its winding passages, its eerie, quiet dead ends, its blind and looping paths.

There are times still that he cannot help but feel like he has been swallowed whole, that he is wandering in the coiling, twisting insides of a snake.

There had been a figure in the darkness, the night before. It had sat there, its legs dangling impossibly into the thick darkness. They had kicked very slightly and childishly in the nothingness.

As he had walked closer, he had seen that its hair was amber-bronze, its skin sun-kissed and freckled, the light down of the hair on its arms golden.

He had held his breath for a moment, and then exhaled, a white grin fixed on his face. And then he had walked up to it.

It had turned, the thing wearing Rangiku’s face, and it had copied his bright smile. So often, it has her dimples. So often, it wears her beauty mark. (When he sits across from it, there are only black holes where there should be eyes.)

“Are we ready then?” Shinso had asked in Rangiku’s girlish voice, a voice like sunshine, its head tilting like hers had.

Gin wonders what it says about him that Shinso does this. Shinso does this, he thinks, to unsettle him- to hurt him- to get a response, maybe. Maybe because Shinso thinks it funny.

Maybe because Shinso is everything that he is, monstrous cruelty included.

Gin had given it a cursory glance, trying not to dwell on that eyeless face. He had squinted into the darkness resolutely. “Reckon so,” he had said to it.

“Do you know how we’re going to do it?” Rangiku’s voice had echoed cheerfully.

Rangiku would never sound so cheerful to be preparing for murder.

He had known. He had known the plan down to the smallest turn. He is not so confident in his ability to defeat a third seat that he hasn’t dwelt obsessively on the details, hasn’t spent sleepless nights dwelling darkly on how it might be done. In the end, he has decided to play it safe, play it conservative. This murder is not for him and so it needs to be done carefully. It needs to be done right.

“Same plan as last time.”

Shinso’s stolen face had fallen, and its stolen lips, pink and perfect, had stretched into a look of alien disgust. Rangiku’s mouth cannot twist like that. Her teeth are not that sharp. “That’s boring,” Rangiku’s voice had announced, and it had echoed as if coming from a mile away. “Boring.”

It was boring, but Gin had shrugged. “Everythin’ hinges on how tonight goes. Can’t fuck it up.”

The bottomless pits of Shinso’s empty eyes had snapped to him, snake-like. They bore into him, those empty sockets. Every time he looks at them, the memory of eyes soft and blue as forget-me-nots stirs in his soul, and the memory disquiets him. But Gin always stares back, undaunted.

“You’re going to fuck it up if you do it that way. He’s going to want a show.” Shinso had told him. It had seemed to find the thought suddenly funny. “He’s going to want to see a show, the sicko. Give him a show. Excite him. Let him see us, see us how we really are. Let him get a peek. That’ll grab him.”

The irony of calling anyone else a sicko had seemed lost on Shinso, but it was right, Gin had realised later. If he is to pull this off, he’s going to have to perform, he’s going to have to draw him in.

Seduce him, even.

“Think ya’ might be right on this one,” he had admitted reluctantly, and he frowns now, in the present, mulling it over. Let him see us, see us how we really are.

It is a troubling thought.

No signs of softness, no signs of weakness; never let them know where your heart lies. He had heard those words, in a different place, in a different life.

Shinso had padded towards him through the darkness until there had been scarcely any space between them. Its footsteps do not echo. The blackness it wraps itself in is gentle as velvet. It had pressed its (Rangiku’s Rangiku’s Rangiku’s) head against his own tenderly, and Gin had frozen. It has Rangiku’s hair, it has Rangiku’s face, but its skin is always so cold.

“Have you thought about my questions?” It had uttered with a smile. It had whispered in his ear, but there is no warm puff of air when Shinso speaks, no sound of breathing, just the sound of dust, a hiss. “Do you know what we are yet? It is a choice, Gin. Commit; and do not turn back. Everything that happens now happens because you made it that way.”

It is a choice, Gin. Commit; and do not turn back.

When he had looked into those black hollows, he had known what it was he had to do. He had known what he had to be.

He thinks he has begun to understand what he has to give up.

(But he hasn’t. Not really. Not yet.)

“I know.”

He had swallowed. There had been nothing more he could have said.

In the present, the excitement bubbling away in his chest finally dies down. He sighs and runs a hand through his fine-stranded hair, knowing Shinso to be right.

It had all started to become so complicated, somewhere along the line. When he had seen him, the man, Aizen, in the forest for the first time, it had been so simple.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him for what he has done. Kill him for even daring to touch her, his heart had screamed bestially.

Time had passed and he had tracked them all down, one by one, each of the animals that had laid their hands on her. But still Aizen lives, still Aizen thrives, and his heart rages now with impatience to see his vengeance wrought.

Aizen -

And one more.

But not for much longer.

It had taken so long already. Who knew what could have become of her in a year?

Unbidden, his mind drifts back to the letter she had left for him, dried mud and ash on a grey-brown sack, in a wooden hut and a shitty town, so, so far away.

Suddenly, it is too much effort to stay upright, and so he carelessly pushes Shinso from his lap and lets himself fall back against the tatami mat.

He had known that she would be devastated when he left her.

He’d left anyway.

It had been more important to him, at the time, to leave.

(That maybe, just maybe - he hadn’t cared enough to stay.)

The thought is small and ashamed.

He’d thought about her often when he’d been at the academy, on cold starless nights in shared dormitories where her hair did not tickle his nose and he didn’t have to manoeuvre around her clumsy, kicking legs in the night; where he had not woken in the night to screams that he alone had been able to soothe.

When his mind had turned to her - as had been inevitable because the thought of her had been as inescapable as gravity - guilt and remorse had twisted up inside him like a snake wrapping itself around his insides. It had been a novel feeling, guilt. He had not liked it then, and he doesn’t like it now.

It had always been a cruel thing, the sight of her crestfallen face as he left her, the way she would look dully at her hands and the way that the light would drop out of her. Something about it stung at him, and so he had tried bitterly to avoid thinking too long on how she was coping, what she doing, how she was faring.

It had been difficult, but having taught himself to steel himself against it, he finds it is the uncertainty now, the fact that he does not even know what she is doing, that she could be with anyone, which makes his heart do strange things.

His smile is strained.

I don’t even know where ya’ are anymore, he thinks distantly to himself. Did ya’ even exist? Or did I dream ya’ up to keep me company? Where are ya’ now, Rangiku?

“I’m not angry that you left,” she had written for him. “Not all of the time, anyway. Sometimes I am. Sometimes I hate you. But most of the time I’m just sorry that you felt like you had to leave. I just wish I knew why.”

“Thank you”.

“You’ll always be my friend.”

My friend, he thinks fervently. My only friend.

He sighs.

The letter had just been further proof of what he’d always known: that when all was accounted for, when all was tallied up in the book of their lives, she was a better person than he was, and always would be. She had that elusive ability to care for others, and the even more elusive quality to forgive.

It wasn’t that she didn’t get angry.

(He shakes his head ruefully at the thought. He had suffered too many punches to the arm to think anything otherwise).

It was just that her anger had always been quick and passionate - fierce, but quick to burn itself out, gone almost as soon as it had arrived. She could be shouting and throwing things at him one minute, but she’d be joking with him the next, all wrongs forgiven as if he’d never done anything wrong in the first place.

Would it be naïve to hope that he could be forgiven this time?

He has rarely felt remorse for anything in his life. Remorse means caring that you have wronged another person. Remorse means having the ability to know, know in your heart, that there is such a thing wrong in the first place.

But Ichimaru Gin does not care. He lacks that compass inside of him, that invisible magnetism, which seemed to guide everyone else towards the good. He has heard talk of evil, but it had always seemed to him a label which people gave to the things they disliked, to the things that caused them disgust or pain.

It is still an alien sensation to him, this prickling, this strange curling and twisting inside of him, the feeling of guilt. If he’s honest, he’s still not even sure he knows what guilt is, but it hurts him to have hurt her and he figures that must lie close to the essence of it.

Rangiku was considerate of other people, he thinks stubbornly. Though she had hidden it well, she’d had a melancholy streak in her that ran a mile wide and as deep as the blue sea. It was born of abandonment, he muses, of fear that she would be left alone again. She was always considerate of other people. Too considerate, he thinks to himself. When something went wrong, she always sought to smooth over the edges, to please people. As far as he was concerned, they could die in a ditch.

She’d have done anything to avoid being abandoned.

He’d done it to her anyway.

(Simply, shamefully – it had been more important to him to leave than it had been for him to stay. There was nothing more to it than that.)

Had she managed to convince herself that he’d left because of something she’d done?

The thought twists at his insides. It troubles him.

It has been a year since he had left. He had eschewed all academy holidays in order to concentrate on his goal, had endured the braying of the idiot sons of Seireitei noble families, had shut himself in libraries night after night, had sweated and bloodied himself and ran himself hoarse on the training field, all to graduate as quickly as possible. All to murder Aizen Sosuke in cold blood for all that he had done to her.

Does she still have nightmares? Has she learnt to fight ‘em off without me?

Does she still-

He cannot bring himself to complete the thought.

(-need me?)

But him?

He has grown strong without her.

He will be graduating as a seated officer. He is a legend, a prodigy, the first person to graduate from the academy in a year.

Tonight - tonight he will carry out his plan. He is a boy, a child. No one will suspect him. No one will know. Everything will go as he wants it to.

It is an easy thing to convince himself that it will be easy. Aizen will never see his true nature, or at least, he amends to himself, not enough of it to know what he intends. The man’s blood will dye Shinso scarlet soon enough, even if not tonight, and Gin will laugh and laugh and laugh to see it gush out of the man and to see his corpse crumpled on the ground, like trash.

The excitement is back, the lurid satisfaction, and he lets it bubble away merrily inside of him.

He has found his smile again, and it is like a sickle.

He hums to himself in pleasure, and rocks forward to a sitting position. He grabs Shinso from off the floor, and he jumps to his feet jauntily.

So what if it has taken longer than he had planned?

Nothin’ worth doin’ was ever done easily, he thinks to himself and he tries not to think of the heartbreak on her face as he left.

It is not as complicated as he had made it out to be. It is simple. He will steal back what was taken, and he will return it to her, and then he will return himself to her, and it will be over.

Over.

And then-

Unbidden, the words of what feels like a life time ago rise up in him. His pale fingertips ghost over his lips for a second.

She had rushed the words out, trying to explain herself to him.

"I could never hate you completely, not really. Not if you tickled me for hours, not if you made me dig up the garden and dangled every worm in my face, not if you made fun of every other person on earth-" her breath had hitched, and he had watched her, dumbfounded "-not even if you left me, not even then. You gave me this birthday, and for as long as I live, I'll wake up today and think of you because you saved me and you gave me a home."

He remembers every word. It has been over a year, and yet he remembers it as if she’d said it yesterday, this morning, an hour ago.

How could he not? She had-

(-kissed him. It had carved away at his insides like a disease, rent apart his chest, ripped him to pieces. The memory sat in the hole it had hollowed out, flush in the space between his heart and his soul, reigning like a king over his body.)

He will never again be rid of it.

It had been like a promise; it had been like a vow.

Nothing more had ever been said about it.

What did it mean? What did it mean? What did she meant by it?

But still that memory warms him. He can feel the lingering traces of the dizzying delight he had felt in that moment each time he closes his eyes and remembers it. His lips quirk upwards.

An eerie, tuneless whistle emerges from his mouth. He cannot help himself, not when the world is so alight with possibilities.

He has murder in his heart, a sword in his hand, a whistle in his mouth, and the ghost of her kiss on his lips.

He smiles.

Time to go.

It is a masterpiece of theatre.

He coaxes the man into the woods with a few wide-eyed, warbling words of praise, some pathetic, snivelling dross, all dewy-eyed innocence. The man doesn’t question it for a second.

When they are safely hidden by the canopy, safely ensconced in the darkness, he strikes. The air heaves and writhes with his killing intent, and the third seat crumples beneath the pressure like he is made of paper. A paper man. Goin’ ta’ fold him up and put him in my pocket, Gin hums to himself. He smiles brightly.

Nah, goin’ ta’ rip him up.

He is on his hands and knees in discomfort, retching into the soil, thick, suffocating saliva forced from his mouth. The sweat trickles from his brow, leaving a sheen; the hair on the back of his neck stands on end, mimicking the response of all prey since time immemorial. The man is frightened. It is written all over his face.

He should be. He’s going to die.

The third seat tries to rise, but he can’t.

“Come on!” Gin cheers him on. “Ya’ the third seat, so act like it. Come on up and get me, Mr Third Seat! You can do it!”

The man grits his teeth and lets out an inhuman roar of effort, pushing with all his might to try to get to his feet.

“So close now!”

The man has made it off his hands. Gin makes an appreciative noise and claps his hands at him, delighted. He has only the most rudimentary knowledge of that thing called empathy, but if he were hard pressed to guess, he would say right now that the man must be feeling something akin to hope.

The third seat stumbles low to the ground, and Gin cheers for him.

And then, his expression never shifting for a moment, white grin still stretched across his face, he aims a vicious kick straight to his head. The man’s nose bursts across his face.

He collapses to the ground again, making a low, heaving noise. Gin wonders vaguely whether he’s crying.

“Oh no!” Gin sings at him. “Whoopsadaisy! Ya’ve fallen over, Mr Third Seat! How clumsy of ya’!” He shakes his head at him theatrically. “How clumsy! Fallen over ya’ own feet!”

The man seems to have given up on trying to stand with Gin’s spiritual pressure beating down at him again and again like a hammer against an anvil, and so he begins to crawl, hands and knees, across the forest floor, blood gushing from the splatter that had been his nose.

“Oh no, no, no,” Gin says to him, grin wide. “Let me help you up! Mighty third seats shouldn’t go crawlin’ through the forest on their hands and knees. That’s for bugs.” Something burns in his eyes for a second, but it is gone the minute it appears. “Or vermin.”

The third seat looks back with fear-filled eyes. He inhales and exhales rapidly, in the broken breathing of the terrified. His hands are scratched from where broken branches have torn at them.

“So stubborn!” Gin bends over, wiping his hands on his black shihakusho, and drags the man to his feet by the collar. “Up we get! Was that so difficult, askin’ for a bit of help?”

The third seat is not stupid enough to fail to see where this is going. His face twists into an animal snarl. He has realised what should have been obvious since the beginning: that he will be permitted to leave with Gin’s permission, or not at all. His stupid, ugly curtains of hair fall into his face as he grabs for his sword. His beady little eyes have blown wide with hatred.

Just try. Just ya’ try.

He tries.

His zanpakuto comes free from its sheath, and he swings it brutishly, clumsily, at Gin’s side. Shinso is in his hand in a second, and he knocks the third seat’s blow aside with an almost clumsy laziness.

“’S not very nice to take your anger out on other people like that, Mr Third Seat,” he says reproachfully. “’S not my fault you can’t get up.” There’s something hysterically funny about that. His grin widens.

The third seat swings again, and again, and again, until he is trembling and sobbing with exertion.

“Shhh, shhh,” he soothes. “Shhh. It’s nothin’ to cry over! ‘S just a fall. ‘S just a fall. We all fall down sometimes. Gotta tell ya’ self it doesn’t hurt.”

He pauses dramatically, looking behind him to the thinning tree line. Aaah, he thinks coldly and he turns back to the man. Good timin’.

“This though,” he says, turning Shinso over in one hand casually, “this is goin’ ta’ hurt like hell’.”

He pushes the blade through the man’s stomach, slowly, slowly.

Shinso is sharp, but the organs of a grown man are thick and spongey, filled with gristle and muscle and gore and blood. It explodes outwards in a thick stream, making his hands and his chest slick, and as he slices upwards, it spurts in a hot, unexpected shower across his face, the wetness. He can hear the dull slap of the man’s guts as they slide out and hit the ground, the shocked intake of the man’s last breaths.

There is no performance now.

He lifts the man by his collar, still lodged on his blade, and looks at him, watching his eyes cloud over.

It is a strange thing, a heady thing, to watch. A person is never more themselves than in extremis, never more honest in their desires, in their choices. Those categories called good and evil- how easily they seem to be forgotten in the overwhelming impetus to survive. How much more, he thinks, people seem to resemble himself in their final moments. How clear it seems then, that there is no good, no evil- only people. Beautiful, ugly, strange people.

The man’s eyes were brown. In death, they are black.

It is done.

He shuts his eyes for a moment and raises his head towards the sky.

Behind his eyes, he sees her as he had first seen her, collapsed on the ground, the man's hand buried to the elbow in her chest, taking something vital and shining from her. Rangiku's yukata had been bunched up around her thighs, and her face had been wan and marred with bruises like storm clouds. As the man rose, he had cupped her face almost tenderly, caressing her cheek. And then he had slapped her, and the sound had rung out through the deserted road. There had been dirt in her golden hair.

The nightmares she had suffered, how she had struggled to walk for days after, the blood on her face and her fat, split lip-

The man had turned to his companions afterwards, and he had laughed.

He had laughed.

There is fury boiling in him. He has forgotten the performance.

Gin only regrets that he cannot kill the man twice, regrets that he had not thought to inflict more pain while he still had the chance. Overcome by rage, he sends another kick crashing into the man’s face, and then another, breath hissing through his teeth.

Overhead, a gap forms in the clouds. The moon emerges; it is eerily bright. He readies another furious blow.

“Ah…”

And then he stills, exhaling a shaky breath through his nose.

The voice, rich and lazy and loathsome, issues from behind him. He had wanted an audience, and now he has one. He had almost forgotten in all the excitement.

“They weren’t exaggerating then. I’d heard, but I had not given much credence to such inflated rumours. A mistake, obviously. What’s your name?”

Gin turns, and as he does so, the moonlight falls on him like a spotlight. The blood, which had seemed black in the shadows, has painted half his face red, like a mask. His fine hair is soaked with it, and it has separated into damp strands. He looks at the man’s face.

Aizen’s eyes are warm, and honey brown, and so gentle.

Except they aren’t.

Gin has known enough monsters to recognise a face put on for polite society when he sees one. He has seen this man obliterate people, seen them blur into thin air, like tea in hot water. He doesn’t dare buy for a second the look he sees on this man’s face.

He looks closer.

Cruelty. Amusement. Intrigue. Hunger.

(The eye of a fellow connoisseur; the eye of a fellow artist.)

(The thought sickens him.)

He steels himself for what he’s about to do. His heart fights against his ribs to burst out of his chest. He has never done anything so terrifying.

(He thinks of her.)

Perform. Perform, he thinks desperately. Keep his attention while you have it. And he lets his most blood-chilling smile stretch across his face, a bright rictus grin.

“Good evenin’, Vice-Captain Aizen!” he calls out sweetly, the third seat’s guts at his feet. He can feel the blood starting to soak through into his tabi. “Lovely moon we’ve got out tonight.”

Nothing like surprise crosses Aizen’s face. If anything, he looks rapt- darkly pleased by Gin’s response.

“Good,” he murmurs softly, before smiling. “You’re even better than I’d heard. I’ll ask you again. What is your name?”

It is a choice, Gin. Commit; and do not turn back, Shinso had told him. Everything that happens now happens because you made it that way.

“For as long as I live, I'll wake up today and think of you because you saved me and you gave me a home.”

Gin takes a deep breath, and hopes that Aizen will blame it on the exertion of murder.

“Gin. Ichimaru Gin.”

There can be no turning back.

#Bleach #GinRan #gin ichimaru #sosuke aizen #ichimaru gin #aizen sosuke #look who's back!#a grotty disturbing gremlin of a boy #who is this really for Gin? is it really for her? coz it doesn't seem that clear #me writing this: hahah i can do tenses... unless???#Aizen and Gin - a seduction?#it's more likely than you think

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,083

Chapter 31: Persona

“So I’m askin’ once again, yeah who the hell am I?”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Eden’s dark curls were wet, falling across her neck and shoulders as she stepped out of the shower. Steam filled the small enclosure of her bathroom and she could feel the cold bite from the stone floor shoot up her ankles. Her olive skin glistened under the amber light fixture and she wrapped a towel around her body, half stumbling to the sink. The porcelain rattled under her as her hands slammed around the bowl of the sink and she muttered an expletive under her breath.

Steam coated the mirror, obscuring her reflection. Reaching out with one arm, her hand swept over the moisture to reveal the reflective glass on the other side. A wet streak formed, her own image looking back at her.

“In our world, it’s not so easy to step into the light. The world is a fickle place and treats scoundrels like us as little more than garbage.”

She took slow, measured breaths – her shoulders slumping forward in a need to defy proper posture. A curtain of her raven hair – curly, wet and messy – draped over her right eye.

“He wants to know if what Hoseok-ah and the others are doing is genuine or just some big show to hide their true plans.”

She scoffed, shifting away from the mockery of her image looking at her; forcing her to examine herself.

“And what it will take to drag them back into the shadows with the rest of us.”

Eden spun on her heels, her back leg slipping on the wet stone floor. Her back arched and she pulled her right arm back with it, screaming at the top of her lungs. The mirror shattered when her fist made contact, spider cracks spreading from her knuckles. There was no pain that shot through her nerves, despite her fist trembling against the now broken mirror. Shards tumbled into the sink, smeared with tiny flecks of her blood that also stained the white porcelain.

Pulling her fist back, more mirror shards fell into the sink, but she ignored them. Instead, Eden yanked the towel off her body and began roughly drying her hair. Throwing the door open, warmth hit her from the heater fan she had in the main area of her apartment. She tossed the towel into the laundry hamper, picking up her flannel robe off the couch and slipping into it.

Just as she was tying the belt around her waist, there were a few hard knocks from her front door. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was just after 9pm. She thought about not answering it, seeing as she couldn’t tell whose reflection it was on the other side of the frosted glass. Eden scooped her phone off the coffee table and swiped her thumb over the screen. The lock screen was a selfie Jungkook and she took three weeks ago. There were a few missed calls and text messages; some from her friends, one from Jimin and the rest were from Jungkook.

A week had passed and her shoulder still ached...

Three more loud knocks rattled her front door on its hinges and she sighed, slipping into her house shoes and shuffling toward the door. She unlatched the deadbolt and wrenched the door open with the handle, looking up to see Jungkook on the other side. She couldn’t quite read his expression, but anyone could tell that he looked a little rattled.

“What?” she said, not bothering to conceal the bitterness in her voice.

For a moment, all they could do was stand there; motionless and silent. However, when she saw Jungkook’s gaze lower she instinctively slid it from the door and tried to place it into her pocket. His hand was quicker, and she felt his hand snatching at her wrist. Eden tried to wrench it free, but his grip was stronger. She didn’t want to start an argument, so her arm grew slack so he could pull her hand closer to inspect it.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook tugged her toward him roughly and her chest slammed into his. She grunted upon impact, her arms lifting in an awkward position as his larger ones encircled her – pulling her into an embrace she wasn’t prepared for.

“J-Jungkook-ah?” Eden’s voice shook slightly. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into the juncture of her neck, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

She had no idea why he was apologizing and before she could ask why, he pulled her even closer into him, causing her to gasp. This was a hug of desperation and Eden was more unsettled by how easily she was able to identify this. It was the way a child would cling to a mother’s skirt so they wouldn’t get lost; the way a person dug their fingers into the side of a mountain – mustering all the strength they had to keep themselves from falling to their permanent end.

Eden felt his chest rise against hers as he took a deep breath, his hand pressing against the back of her head. Her neck grew rigid, forcing her chin up as she pressed up onto the balls of her feet to meet his height. Mixed in with his normal cologne, she could smell just a hint of soju. She sighed, reaching behind him so she could gently pat him on the back; like she was comforting a lost child.

“Jungkook-ah…” She smiled. “…you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Noona,” came his muffled voice and she had to smother the urge to laugh. “I’m such a fucking idiot!”

She shushed him, rubbing comforting circles on his back in an effort to get him to loosen his grip on her. When he finally did, Eden looked at his pitiful face and saw the tell-tale redness around his cheeks and nose. Pressing a hand to his forehead, she sighed and shook her head. He didn’t have a fever, but he was slightly warm from consuming alcohol.

Without thinking, she reached out with her injured hand and led him into the apartment. He kicked off his shoes like a petulant toddler while she fussed over him to put on some house shoes. When he did, he stumbled inside and she had to help him settle onto the couch without sprawling him out. After pulling off his jacket, Eden quickly made her way into her small kitchen to set a kettle on the stove. Once the water boiled, she poured it into a mug and then dropped a few tablespoons of honey into it. Stirring the mixture, she returned and handed him the steaming mug.

“Drink it slowly,” she instructed, settling onto the edge of her bed while watching him blow the steam away. “Why did you drink so much?”

For a minute, he didn’t say anything. Eden wouldn’t press him. He normally didn’t drink so much and that meant there was something weighing on his mind. Something he wasn’t willing to divulge just yet. Eden couldn’t blame him, though. She’d considered opening the bottle of whiskey she had in the kitchen after her little episode in the bathroom.

“What happened to your hand?”

She hadn’t expected to have her question answered with a question. Eden tried to hide her hand again, but Jungkook was still faster. He held it between them, and he frowned when he noticed the cuts on her knuckles – his cool hands soothing the inflamed skin. His thumb stroked over the broken skin and she winced slightly. Jungkook took two large gulps of the honey water mixture, set it down on the coffee table, and pulled Eden from the bed by her hand. He led her into the bathroom and she tried to resist him, not wanting him to see the results of her temper tantrum in the bathroom.

He gently pulled her along despite her bracing trying to tug away from him. They finally went into the bathroom and she felt the fight leave her, embarrassment setting in instead.

Jungkook appeared not to notice the damage she caused. Or he at least wasn’t voicing it out loud. Grabbing a face towel, he reached into the sink and scooped out the shards of glass – throwing them away without a second glance. He turned on the faucet and held her hand under the lukewarm flow. Again, she winced and tried to pull her hand back. He waited until the blood was cleaned from her skin, opening the medicine cabinet that doubled as her mirror. Nothing was said about the ruined mirror and he took an alcohol wipe, swabbing it over her damaged hand and she hissed.

Silently he worked, disinfecting her injury and then wrapping it with some gauze. She was out of band-aids.

Eden turned to head out of the bathroom, but Jungkook closed the door. Rounding on him to yell about how she’d almost run into the door, her protests vanished when his hands slammed on either side of her head. Swallowing hard, Eden pressed her back to the door. If he held the door like that, there was no way she could open it and she wasn’t about to tussle with him in her already cramped bathroom.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing slightly.

She felt the back of her head pressing into the door as he leaned in close, their noses barely touching.

Jungkook took a deep breath, as if he was wrangling with something, and then exhaled through his nostrils.

“Why won’t you let me in?”

Eden’s eyes widened, followed by her blinking rapidly. “What?”

What did that even mean?

His eyes narrowed and she bit her lower lip.

“Why do you keep pushing me away, Noona?”

“What are you talking about?!”

She couldn’t help her voice rising an octave. Jungkook had been following her for over a year since they met, relentlessly pursuing her, and she was even taking a chance on him. They were dating weren’t they? She didn’t care that he was a gangster, or even a former gangster at this point. His status as an orphan meant nothing to her. He was over her house all the time, at all hours of the day when he wasn’t working and aggravating her in Tekken matches.

How in the hell was she pushing him away?!

Cool fingers caressed her temple, causing her to jump slightly. She hadn’t expected the sudden gesture and it forced Jungkook’s movements to a halt. When her eyes met his, Eden was startled to see the pained expression painted over his features. Was he still drunk? She didn’t know what was happening…

His hand slid from her face, trailing down the fabric of her robe that covered her arm, and he clasped her uninjured hand in his. Eden wished she could read his mind, to figure out what was making him feel this way. She felt a measure of guilt at knowing that she was the source of whatever suffering he was trying to smother out of himself.

Jungkook pressed her hand along his chest, feeling the heavy drumming of his heartbeat against her palm. Eden sucked in a slow breath as her eyes searched his dark brown ones. He never let his gaze rove from hers; like he was trying to look straight into her soul. It didn’t take her long to realize that her own pulse was matching his; completely in sync with each other.

She was only able to whisper his name once – a breathy sigh as his mouth captured hers. Her eyes slowly closed, drinking in his scent as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The flat of her palm slid down between his shoulder blades, her nails gently pressing into his back through his shirt. Jungkook’s hands moved over her body, making the heat rise inside her body as he lifted her into his arms effortlessly. The kiss was only deepened through the movement and she tightened her legs around his waist while he supported her with his strong arms. A burst of cool air brushed along her bare legs as he pulled the door to the bathroom open, carrying her the short distance to her bed.

Eden was going to go crazy. She was losing her mind from all the sensations her body was being put through. She wanted to fall against him – to get lost in his eyes as he overtook her with every single bit of raw passion that was contained within them. Eden heard her name falling from his lips, and as she pulled back, she gently touched the swollen buds as she bit her bottom lip at the corner; her breathing heavy as her chest rose and fell slowly.

He set her down on the bed gently, her robe barely covering her as he clambered onto the bed slowly – looking every bit like a tiger on the hunt.

Jungkook towered over her, his arms braced on either side of her shoulders, and Eden could only look up at him. He’d always been stubborn, but this was a new level. He was worried about something; wanting to tell her something but he was still holding back. Even now.

And this hurt her. It hurt her because she was holding herself back too.

She could make up all the excuses in the world, but it was true. Jungkook had seen it. She really was keeping him away – refusing to let him in fully.

“Noona,” Jungkook managed to croak, “please let me in. I’m tired of looking from the outside in…”

His voice was thick with yearning. It made her heart twist inside her chest. Her vision blurred momentarily, and she quickly covered her face with her hands, blocking out his painful expression.

She felt his hand on top of hers, pulling them away so she was forced to up at him; at his gentle smile. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes and Eden smiled. She cupped his face in her hands, leaning forward to kiss him hard on the lips and slipping her tongue in between them as she felt the muscle rake slowly against his fangs - a slow intake of breath filling her lungs as she smelled him. His scent was still the same - even after all this time they’d spent together. Spring rain with a hint of spice. She could’ve died in his arms right now.

After taking the time to greedily consume his mouth as he had hers, Eden pulled back and moved her eyes back from one of his orbs to the other. Her dark hair fell in a jet curtain of curls that covered half her face. “I…I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah. I didn’t know you felt that way after all this time. But I should have…because I know what you’re worried about.” She paused, watching his smile fall slightly. “I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. We are going to be okay if you trust me. Trust that I’m not going to abandon you when things get hard.”

She watched Jungkook swallow the lump that began to form in his throat. Not wanting her own resolve to waver, Eden brushed his bangs off his forehead – her fingers tracing the line of his brow.

“You exist here, in my head and in my heart,” she said softly, moving her hand to each place while attempting to calm her heart; albeit in vain. “I’m tired of worrying about my past or even what tomorrow will bring for any of us. Aren’t you tired of it?”

His brows furrowed. “Noona…”

Eden smiled up at him. “As long as we’re together, then I know I can take on anything anyone tries to throw at me. Dislocated limbs, busted lips, threats, whatever the fuck they try to push at me? I can take it.”

“I can’t see you get hurt, Noona. I don’t know what I’d do—”

“You can’t protect me all the time, Jungkook-ah,” she interjected, seeing fear simmer in his gaze, “and that’s okay. You’re not supposed to. I’ve spent my whole life taking care of my life and until you guys can get your shit together, I’ll keep doing that.” She paused as he pressed a hand against her cheek. “I’ll keep doing it until I don’t have to anymore.”

Jungkook frowned, closing his eyes and leaning forward so he could press his forehead against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed in response and she felt his breath across her cheeks as he sighed.

“…this will always be what I want, Noona,” he finally spoke, his voice dropping an octave and coated with emotion, “it’s what I’ve always wanted.” He lifted his head off hers which had her opening her eyes to look back at him. “If you can let yourself go with me, if you can stay with me, then I won’t regret anything. You drive me crazy and you’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met…” Eden rolled her eyes and he chuckled. “If you trust me, then that’s all I could ask for. I won’t break that trust, Noona. I don’t think I could live with myself if I were to let that happen.”

He leaned forward, his lips pressing against her ear as he softly breathed against the lobe. Her arms snaked over his shoulders to grasp at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head so that his skin was exposed.

“…can I be selfish, Noona? Can I ask you to love me with everything that you are?”

Jungkook slid one hand down to rest at the folds of her robe, slipping further down to loosen the belt that held the material to her form.

“Can we fall into each other until there’s nothing left of us?”

Jungkook kissed her ear, then nipped it before he fully tugged the belt loose and pushed the folds of the robe off to the side to expose her naked form beneath. His hands moved across her skin, the heat radiating both from her own body and his as she pulled him into another kiss – the desperate need to feel his body against hers almost maddening. She nodded, knowing that this moment was what mattered the most. Nothing else.

There was no going back now. Eden was done looking over her shoulder at what was. She was done looking too far ahead at what could be.

She would live in the here and now with no regrets.

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lokisgame · 4 years

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A Generous Donation [17]

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12][part 13] [part 14] [part 15] [part 16]

Mulder found Scully in her office, staring at slides pinned to the light box. She turned and upon seeing him, smiled wide. "What are those?" "I stole them from a guy with a broken leg down the hall," he said conspiratorially, handing her a dozen roses, "he won't be able to catch me." "Then maybe I should give them back," she teased and buried her nose in red petals, breathed in, her eyes falling shut for a second. "Don't you dare," Mulder smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Hello, Doc." "Hi," she kissed him back. "What's the occasion?" "I'm taking you out." "Out? Where?" "To dinner," he said, doubling back for her coat. "It's been a while." "But I'm not dressed right, and I'm supposed to visit Will." "You look perfect and I already spoke to Will, he's fine, he loves you and he hopes we'll have fun." "So it's dinner and fun?" "Sort of fun."

"Just so you know, I don't do ice skating." "Oh dear, no," he laughed and held out the coat, "can we go? Or do you want to finish something here first? I can wait." "No, we can go," she said turning, and glancing at the roses again, "I'm just worried about these." She slipped her arms inside the sleeves, juggling the bouquet as she did. "If they die, which is unlikely," he said, pulling her into his arms, "I'll get you two dozen more." "You spoil me rotten." "It's about time, ‘cause you're worth it." "Alright, you old smoothie," she laughed, freeing herself and linking their arms, "now feed me, I'm famished."

Scully took in the long counter, tall bar stools, fogged up windows and the cooking that was happening right before the patrons. Long strings of noodles sprang out from steaming pots to the rhythm of chopping the vegetables. The place smelled delicious, still, she felt like teasing him a little. "So this your idea of fancy, ramen?" "I didn't say it's going to be fancy," he grinned stirring his soup. "You said you were hungry, eat up." "All the roses, the surprise, I just thought." She shook her head, amused, picking a piece of grilled chicken from the broth. Mulder looked up, doubt creeping into his eyes. "You don't like it?" He asked, but she already tasted the food and smiling, went for more. "Oh, okay," he said and went back to his food as well. "I picked this place because it's the closest to where we're heading next." "Which is?" Scully asked and Mulder grinned around a mouthful of beef, so she answered for him. "Another surprise." He shrugged and nodded. "If this is some monster hunt, I swear." He swallowed fast, put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "It's not, stop worrying." "So stop being so cryptic." Mulder laughed, squeezing a kiss between her shoulder and neck just to make her laugh. "Now where's the fun in that." He took a sip of his beer and picked up his chopsticks again. "So, how was your day?" So between slurping and laughing, she told him.

"You still haven't explained the car," she said, pulling on her leather gloves before leaving the restaurant. "What happened to the Ford?" Mulder opened the door for her. "Nothing, but we need something bigger for tonight so I borrowed the bus from a friend." "Your friend is a fan of classic cars?" "Classic, Frohike would kiss you for that," he laughed following her out, "not that I'd let him." "Where to next?" She asked, talking his hand. "You don't recognize these parts?" She looked around as they crossed the street. The wind changed, carrying voices and the scent of cinnamon and pine. Scully laughed. "No! How did you know?" Mulder grinned and put his arm around her. "Charlie suggested it." They followed the chain link fence towards the twinkling lights and music, to buy their first Christmas tree.

Scully sipped mulled wine from a plastic cup following Mulder until he stopped by a spruce, almost a foot taller than him. "Okay, what do you think about this one?" "I'm not sure it will fit into my living room," she said grinning. "How about mine?" "I thought you didn't do Christmas." "I feel exceptionally festive this year." He took a step back to examine the tree from afar and Scully leaned into his side, putting one arm around his waist. "If it's for me, you don't have to do this." "Isn't the tree a vital part of the Christmas spirit?" "No, it's about sharing love and spreading kindness and generosity." She looked up and smiled even brighter, "Come to think of it, you could be my Christmas tree." Mulder laughed, kissing the cold tip of her nose. "As long as you don't try to wrap me in Christmas lights." "Do you even have Christmas lights?" "Nope, I was counting on you to help me with that." "In that case, we've got some serious Christmas shopping to do, mister." "Okay, but what about the tree?" "It's nice, but we can do better." "So we're picking two?" "No," she pushed her hand under his arm and pulled him along, "we'll only need one."

Once they wrestled the tree inside Mulder's front door and decided on the spot, a little to the side from the fireplace with a nice view from the couch, Scully went about making hot chocolate, leaving Mulder in the living room, looking at the tree. "You think there are spiders in it?" "Don't tell me you're afraid of spiders." "It's not that I'm afraid, I'm just not a huge fan of bugs." He said and went to join her. "What could an itty-bitty spider do to a big guy like you?" "You know about venomous spiders, right?" "In Massachusetts?" "Isn't there anything you're scared of?" "Once you have a kid, everything scares you," she said over a little pot sitting on the smallest burner, "stairs, power sockets, knives, scissors left lying around. Either you learn to live with that fear or suffocate your kid trying to protect him from anything and everything." Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist, chin resting on the top of her head. "You did a good job, raising our kid to be brave." "I think he hides a lot of his fears behind humor." "Better that than violence," he sighed and began nibbling kisses over the side of her neck, "another point for you. Anyone ever told you you're awesome?" "You?" She giggled, tilting her chin and leaning into his lips, but her next words came wistful. "I wish you could have been there with me." "I'm here now," he murmured against her earlobe, "and we've got all the time in the world." He kissed her cheek, before catching her lips, then reached into the cupboard and took out a bottle of Jameson. Mulder liked his hot chocolate Irish.

They got two strings of rainbow colored lights and two boxes of ornaments. Scully ripped the packaging, unwound couple of feet from the knot and handed the loose end to Mulder keeping the rest to herself. "We'll start from the top and work our way down around the tree," she instructed. Mulder nodded and set his mug on the mantle. He took the cord, reached up and paused by the highest branch, looking over his shoulder. "Here?" "Perfect." She smiled and followed around the tree, untangling the wire for him. "This always was Will's favorite part," she said, "even when he barely reached the lowest branches, he would hold the lights trying to help. Then as he grew, we arranged the lights together, and now it's usually him doing the hanging and me holding the wires." "And who did it for you, when both of you were too small to reach the top?" Scully poked his side and he chuckled. "I scaled down the tree to my size," she said and moved the cord he just hung, one level down. "How do you know it should go there?" Scully shrugged and handed him another yard. "Practice?" "At home we never really celebrated anything between Thanksgiving and New Years," Mulder said taking the second set of lights and starting again, at the top. "Not Hanukkah, not Christmas, obviously. My father was too busy, and mom, instead of making an effort for us, waited. Like his word was the law and she waited for his say-so. And then Samantha went missing and even the pretense went out the window. No more fireworks in July, no more thanksgiving. Zip." "I'm sorry." "It's okay, I guess it would be worse if we tried to force it. You can't miss what you don't know. Then I went to college and stayed at Oxford for Christmas break." "I'm almost afraid to ask." "We drank and partied and don't ask me what else, because I don't really remember. It felt good to let go for a bit." "You don't remember your first Christmas?" "We went to London, then Paris, it snowed like crazy that year." "White Christmas, nice." They made one last round around the tree and Mulder went to kill the lights, while Scully did small adjustments to the arrangement. For a moment the room was illuminated by nothing but the fire in the fireplace and then Mulder came back, knelt on the floor and plugged the lights in. She forgot how to exhale for a second or three, until he was standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. Leaning against his chest and feeling his chin resting on top of her head. Barefoot, she fit perfectly, head to toe, into his embrace. "Oh wow," she sighed. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Mulder said and leaned into her, drawing her closer to his lips on the side of her neck. "Wait till we hang all the ornaments," she murmured, but his hands were already sneaking under the edge of her sweater, working buttons on her shirt. "Ornaments can wait," he breathed and nipped at the skin just above the collar. "I can't." "It's just two boxes," she sighed, doing nothing to stop his fingers from finding the tab on the zipper of her slacks. "Wanna know a secret?" "You discovered a Christmas tree fetish?" He didn't say, but fingertips on bare skin made her jump when a caress turned into a tickle, making her squirm in his arms. Mulder pulled her tighter to himself, his hand slipping under the lace trimmed waistband of her panties. She covered his hand through the fabric and ground her hips into his touch. "Shame, because I think," he pushed two fingers inside her making her voice hitch, "I think I did." Throaty laughter filled her ear and he tugged on her earlobe, a bite soothed with a kiss. Light fractured on her eyelashes and she gave herself over to the sensations of his confident touch and erection trapped against the small of her back. Mulder held her up, one hand kneading the breast, deliciously pinching the nipple, the other pumping in and out, fingers slipping over her clitoris with each pass. It was an exquisite torture. She longed for his warmth not the heat off her clothes, the touch of his skin instead of just his hands and lips. "I want to feel you," she moaned and he pushed deep inside her almost lifting her off her feet. But it wasn't the touch that sent a new shiver up her spine, it was his word. "No," he growled flicking her nipple and pushing a third finger inside her, curling them. That one spot which usually turned her all aglow set her on fire. "Come for me first." It wasn't a plea or a promise, it was an order, one she had no choice but to obey. With his tongue and teeth on her neck, she rocked her hips into his palm and the pleasure that was building exploded from her core, pushing the breath out of her lungs in a moan and knocking her knees out from under her. If it wasn't for his arms around her, she'd collapse. Instead, Mulder lowered her to the floor by the fireplace, tugging on her pants and panties. "Breathe, Scully." He said and she breathed, watching him take off his sweater and t-shirt, the flex of muscles and arch of his back as he knelt between her thighs. Light played on his skin, the fire behind him, the Christmas lights above her and his smile when he let his hands glide up her thighs and over hips, to the edge of her sweater and blouse. He pulled and she arched her back, but when the clothes passed her head, he paused leaving her hands trapped inside the sleeves. Scully tried to free herself, but he caught her wrists, pinning them over her head. "Leave it," he said, catching her lips in a light kiss. Nibbling on her parted mouth he traced his fingers down the inside of her arms. He grazed the delicate skin, fingernails turning tickles into shivers, past the sensitive crooks of her elbows, upper arms and armpits. His lips followed over her throat, the hollow at the base and down her sternum, until they met his hands, cupping both breasts and squeezing through the soft lace and he buried his face between them. She gasped and arched into his touch. Never had she surrendered herself so freely, following without a word his soft-spoken commands. Was it because she trusted him? Was it because he had given her so much already? Or was it because she felt that him finally wanting something from her and taking it instead of asking for it, made her feel needed. He finally claimed her. Finally, they were equals. She wrapped her thighs around him and resting her feet on his hips brought him back. He unhooked her bra and latched onto her breast, sucking at her right nipple while he pinched the left. "Not yet," he murmured between kisses, on his way from the right to the left, "patience." And she didn't fight him, letting him kiss his fill. She moved beneath him, panting the lower he kissed, not holding back the moans he elicited when he draped her thighs over his shoulders and opened her up again with his tongue and fingers. Licking inside and outside, he teased her mercilessly, bringing her to the edge, watching her pull on the makeshift restraints, with her back arched off the floor and her breath coming in gasps, just to stop and start all over again. She was lost in sensation when she finally felt him shift, the back of her thighs against his chest, sudden kisses on her calves beckoning her back. She was almost bent in half beneath him, trapped between his thighs and arms as he hovered over her. Mulder waited till her eyes focused on him, until she felt the tip of his cock poised at the entrance of her body, and when he had her full attention he pushed inside her. Slowly, deliberately, never freeing her gaze, he started to thrust, rocking into her, his speed building as she grew wetter with each pass. Deeper and faster, as her walls gripped him tighter. Mulder shifted his balance, changed the angle and freed one hand to stroke around her clit. Sweat glistened in the light of the fire and the tree, and he gave everything he had to her expecting nothing of her but to surrender and take it and he took pleasure in her body. She came hard and didn't even try to hide it, pulling him with her over the edge, his heat filing her to the brim, and drowning out thought. Minutes or eons later, she found Mulder pulling out and rolling off her. With one hand he pried open her fingers, still clutching on the fabric of the sweater. "Say something," he whispered, pulling her arms down and massaging the life back into her fingers. "You've been holding out on me." Mulder chuckled but kept working on her hands. "Did you like it?" Scully purred and rolled onto her side, straight into his arms. "It's like Christmas came early this year, like, three times." She murmured kissing his warm skin and the chuckle turned into a laugh. "I've got nothing," he sighed and brought her hand to his lips, biting the knuckles lightly, "you blow my mind." "There's something else I'd rather blow," she said, licking her lips. "What about the tree?" "What tree?" "The Christmas tree behind you," he laughed, "the one with the spiders in it!" Scully gasped and scrambled up, scooting as far away as she could until she hit the couch with her back. Mulder stayed where he was, his body shaking with laughter and she realized he wasn't serious. On all fours she crawled back, swatting at his side as hard as she could, getting nothing more than more laugh for her trouble. She straddled his stomach and leaning in, pushed his shoulders into the hardwood floor beneath. "Not funny!" "A little funny." Digging her fingernails into his skin, she dragged them over his chest, not enough to draw blood, just to leave a bright red trace. Mulder hissed, but it was a good hiss, he grabbed her thighs and held on. "Hello," she smiled and moved lower, "you like this?" "What?" Stretching out on his chest, she scored him again, all the way up, until her fingers twined in his hair, turning pain into bliss. "This." "Yeah, this." With her tongue in his mouth and his fingernails on her back, they made love again in the light of the fire and the Christmas lights.

The next morning Mulder found Scully on his couch, with a mug of coffee in hand and her feet propped up on the coffee table. He leaned over her and kissed the top of her head. "Morning," she said, leaning her head back for another one, on her lips. The day didn't start until he got at least three. "You hung the ornaments." "We should get you some fun ones." "UFO's?" He teased, brushing her smile the third time, the charm. "Handcuffs." "Warn me, before I open my gifts in front of your mother." "I'm thinking neckties and scarves." "Try leather belts and gloves." "Gloves?" He climbed over the back of the couch, picked up the mug she had ready for him and pulled her under his arm. "I like to keep my hands warm." "What are we doing today?" "Visiting Will." "Other than that, obviously." "Oh, I don't know, watch tv, hang out, order in." "Tie you up and stay in bed until Monday?" "Tie me up?" His eyebrow went up on the 'me'. "Okay, we can take turns." Mulder set the mug on the floor and pulled her legs over his lap. A hand climbed up her thigh, pushing her back into the couch cushions. He pushed past the lace, whispering against her lips. "Will you always keep me guessing?" "As long as you keep unfolding like a flower." "I wish I've met you when I was still in my twenties." "You did," she grinned, glancing down, "at least part of you did." "Okay," grabbing her hips he pulled her down, "you've asked for it." Mulder yanked at the sash and the bathrobe and her thighs fell open. They didn't make it for lunch with Will. He didn't mind.

#generous donation #msr fanfic #x files fanfic #au

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 years

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Out of retirement?

Summary: Some would say they were a couple five years ago. The Boogeyman and the wandering spider. A deathly duo. When John retired, he also left Charlotte behind. Now, being retired herself, she’s finally happy. Until she gets a message from him five years later, that made her question how happy she really was.

Words: 2.883

Pairing: John Wick / OFC

A/N: Just some smut for you Sunday afternoon 🤷🏻‍♀️

Continental hotel Paris, 8 pm, room 786, JW

She used to receive texts like these from this number on a regular basis. Whenever he was in the same town as her. It was nice that he put his initials in the message. It’s not like she had memorized the number. But it stopped a little over five years ago. She didn’t even know he was still alive. They had met on a job. Both of them booked to take out the same target. She had made the decision to give him the kill pretty fast but negotiated for other sort of payment with him. John Wick. A man you don’t want to have as an enemy. They had been flirting the whole night. And when he had come to her room after the kill, full of adrenaline. It had been a night, she would never forget.

She couldn’t help the tingle of excitement that ran all over her body after receiving the text. She had no idea how he knew that she was in Paris. Or how he got her new number. Or why he would contact her now after all these years. She knew he got married, got out, lived a happy life. He always wanted to get out. She also knew his wife died not long ago.

She had been pretty upset when he just vanished from her. A little part of her hoped that they could be more. She had seen a side of him in all the years, she grew to love. How he would search for her hand when he slept next to her, how he always remembered that she was allergic to garlic when they got out to eat, how he loved to watch the stars.

Yeah, she got it really bad for John Wick. She should be pissed at him for expecting her to be back like nothing happened. But who was she kidding. She would go. Even after more than five years without any form of contact.

It was 7:50 pm when she walked to the door of the continental hotel in Paris. It felt like stepping into a museum. Luxurious golden ornaments were all over the walls. It reminded her of Versailles.

„Miss Frost.“ She heard a smooth voice next to her. She turned around to come to face with a pale, bald man, the manager of the Parisian hotel.

„Jacque.“ She nodded him in greeting.

„What brings you to our fine hotel. Business?“ He asked, walking next to her.

„Oh no. I‘m out for good. You should try it. Best three years of my life. Your cuisine is just so addictive.“ she winked at him. He laughed lowly.

„Nice of you to lie to this old man.“ They came to stand in front of the elevator. He pressed the button.

„Be careful up there. He‘s close to breaking the rules.“ Jacque whispered as the doors opened.

She stepped into the elevator, turning around to face him.

„I’m always careful, Jacque.“ she said, as the door closed.

She looked at herself in the fully mirrored elevator. She put a little more effort into her look today. Her dark hair in loose waves went almost to her hips. She needed a haircut badly. She only applied a little make up. Some mascara and eyeliner. And the blood red lips she knew he liked. The grey knee high wrap dress shimmered silver when she moved, hugging her curves tightly. She wore 6 inch silver heels, she always felt confident in high heels. And she would need all the confidence she could get. She didn’t just want to jump back into his arms. She wanted answers. She had no idea what he wanted anyway. But a little part of her hoped he would peel her out of the black bra and garter belt she wore underneath by the end of the night.

She breathed a couple times before she knocked on the door of room 786. She wondered if there was a reason he had chosen this room, or if it was just coincidence. They had talked about fantasies they had back in the day, but she was sure he didn’t remember. Not after all this time.

The door opened after only a few seconds and she tried not to react on seeing him again. She couldn’t help the gasp though. He was bare feet, his dark grey dress shirt still tucked into his suit pants, the tie open around his neck. The face she grew to love still the same. Apart from the healing cut on his nose. And some tiny wrinkles around his eyes. His Black hair slicked back.

“Hi Charlotte.” He said and she finally looked into his eyes. His dark eyes, that seemed darker as she remembered. She also remembered the look she could read in his face.

A shiver ran over her body.

“John.” She tilted her head in greeting and walked past him into his room. She heard the door closing behind her, as she walked right to the back of the room that was a window front from ground to the ceiling, overlooking Paris. The sun would start to go down shortly, giving her the best view in the whole city over the sunset. Sighing sh put her purse on the couch next to her.

“You’re back?” She asked. John was standing with his back to the door, he had just closed behind her, only watching her. He felt the relief wasting over him on her actually coming to him.

“I’m not.” He answered, still not moving. Watching her.

“So you’re not breaking the rules?”

“Not yet.”

She turned around to face him. He could see in her blue eyes that she didn’t believe a word he said. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

“What happened John?” She finally asked. Searching his face for an answer. She could feel his desperation across the room.

“Santino made me fulfill his marker. He wanted me to kill his sister” He began.

“You killed Gianna?” She asked with big eyes.

“I had no choice.” He almost whispered. They stared at each other in silence.

“How much?” She asked after a while.

“7 million.” He answered.

“Jesus Christ Jonathan.” Her Hand rubbed her forehead.

Finally he straightened and walked over to where she was standing. Sometimes he had asked himself if his life would have turned out differently if he had admitted to his feelings for her. Maybe they would both be living together on some abandoned beach. Making love to each other every day.

“I wanted to see you one last time.” He admitted as he was standing in front of her. She looked up at him. Even with the heels she was wearing he still was taller than her. His aftershave made her sigh quietly.

“What are you planing?” She asked.

“Killing him. At all costs.”

She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, inhaling his scent. She let her head fall with her forehead against his shoulder. She shook her head a little.

“Why here?” She asked.

He leant down, so he could whisper right into her ear.

“I remember you talking about what you want me to do to you in this room.” He whispered. His breath caressed her skin. Goosebumps came over her whole body. She swallowed.

“What makes you think you could just continue where we stopped five years ago?” Her voice was shaking. She felt his fingers on her back, drawing tiny circles. His lips connected with the skin on her neck, and she shakily breathed out.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” She felt his tongue come out between his lips on her neck, drawing a line up to her ear. Her hand grabbed his shoulder to steady her. What was it about this man, that could make her forget everything? Damn him.

“Why now?” His lips closed around her earlobe, his teeth nibbling on it, making her moan.

“I missed you.” He simply said. She closed her eyes, before she grabbed him at the loose ends of his tie, making him look at her.

“I missed you too.” She admitted before she pulled him at his tie down to her, to kiss him. They both moaned when they felt each other’s lips, their tongues caressing each other’s. John pulled her to him, both of his hands on her waist, as she was still holding him close to her by his tie.

When they parted she saw the look in his eyes. She couldn’t help biting her lip as she looked up at him. She felt his hands on the knot of her dress, slowly pulling at it, until it opened. He slowly reached with his hands to her shoulders, pushing her dress from her shoulders until it fell to the ground.

The black lace bra she was wearing covered almost nothing. She was glad she chose the garter belt and stockings, when she saw his eyes as he looked at her.

He made her walk backwards until her back was flush against the window. The cold making her hiss.

“What was it you said?” He asked her, as he opened the buttons on his sleeves, taking out his cufflinks.

“You want to be fucked hard while looking over the skyline of Paris? Do I remember that correctly?” His hands both cupped her beasts, his thump pinching her already hard nipples. She already had a hard time breathing and she could feel herself dripping down her thighs. John got in his knees in front of her, pulling one of her legs over his shoulder. He was still fully dressed.

“No panties?” He let one of his finger slip through her folds. “You’re dripping already Char.” He said, looking up at her as he leant closer to her, his mouth devouring through her folds.

“Fuck John.” She moaned loudly, both of her hands grabbing his hair. She could feel his tongue on her clit, one hand at her ass, his fingers teasing through her folds.

“Oh my god.” She moaned, as two of his fingers entered her while he was sucking on her clit, he hadn’t even started and she was close already. He hummed around her clit, his fingers finding the spot nobody had even been close to finding in the last 5 years.

Her head fell back against the window, one of her hands coming up to massage her breast.

She didn’t care that everyone on the street who looked closely could see them. She didn’t care that she would most likely never see him again. All she cared about was this moment. When she felt his teeth on her clit she came. Hard. “Holy shit.” She whimpered, her hips shaking, her hand in Johns hair pulling him to her. The smirk he had on his face as she finally looked at him, made her chuckle. He carefully set her leg down on the ground, she was thankful her whole weight was leaning against the window, and pushed himself off the ground to kiss her. He rolled his hips against hers, making her whimper as she felt his cock.

“Take your bra off and turn around. Heels stay on.” He said, giving her no room for any argument. Not that she would have one. Slowly she opened her bra, letting it slide down the floor, without taking her eyes off of him. She could hear him growling as she turned around to face the city. The sun must have starting going down a while ago, diving everything in orange. She could see the Eiffel tower and Notre Dame. As much as she hated this city, it was beautiful. She looked down to the pavement, 7 floors down and wondered if the people walking there would be able to see what exactly was going on above her heads.

She felt Johns chest on her back, his arms coming around her waist, as he pushed his body close against hers. His head rested on her right shoulder, his view following the direction she was looking at. His cock rubbed over her ass.

“Do you think someone could see?” She asked. One of his hands ran up to her breast, teasing her nipple.

“Do you care?” He asked back, kissing her neck.

“Mmhhh.” Was all she could answer. John grabbed both of her hands, bringing them up the window above her, as he pushed her body to the window. When the skin of her upper body collided with the cold glass of the window, she moaned. John wasted no time and pushed himself into her in one long motion. They both moaned when he settled fully inside of her. How she had missed the feeling of him inside of her. John breathed hard. She wiggled her hips, and he got the hint and started to move. His hands were still on hers on the window as he drove himself in and out of her.

Every movement pushing her deeper in the window.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked close to her ear.

“Being fucked for the whole world to see. If anyone saw us we could end up arrested.” He thrusted hard into her, making her moan his name.

“Wouldn’t that be a story? The boogeyman and the wandering spider. Being arrested for having sex against a window.” She whimpered as he thrusted harder. He chuckled behind her, one of his hands moving between her legs, circling her clit. She desperately searched for something to hold on to, as she felt her orgasm approaching. Johns other hand came around her waist, holding her steady as he fastened his movements, never stoping his hands on her clit.

“I got you.” He bit into her neck and she let go. Pushing her hands against the window trying to keep herself on her feet as she felt her whole body shaking, as she came. “Fuck, Jonathan.” She cursed, breathing hard. His grip held her steady against him as he continued to fuck her, his movements soon getting sloppy until he bit into her shoulder, and spilled inside of her. She shuddered and almost came again as he felt him spill into her.

They were both breathing hard and Charlotte was glad for his arms around her, she really didn’t trust her own feet to hold her. She tilt her head to the side, finding Johns lips, kissing him deeply.

She groaned as she felt him slip out of her, his seed running down her legs. John picked her up and sat her down on his lap on the couch in front of the window. It was almost dark by now. He found a blanket next to him and covered both their bodies with it. Charlottes head rested on Johns shoulder, as she watched him looking out of the window. He looked so peaceful and happy in this moment. She couldn’t bare the thought of never seeing him again.

“Stay two days. Don’t leave the hotel. Just... Spent two days. In Paris. With me.” She whispered against his chest. His arms around her tightened.

“Anything you want, Char.”

As she walked out of the hotel in the early morning hours of the next day, she needed new clothes, the information she called for as John was under the shower, was waiting for her at the front desk.

He’s at a private tour at the louvre. Security cameras will be out for exactly 5 minutes at 4:27 am

The note said. She looked at the clock. 97 minutes. That would be just enough time time for her to come out of retirement.

John woke up to the ringing of his phone. He carefully sat up, trying not to disturb Charlotte beside him only to find the place beside him empty. He reached for his phone.

“Jonathan.” Winston was way to cheerful.

“Winston.”

“Have you heard the news?” Winston asked.

John rubbed his eyes, as he stood from the bed.

“What news?”

“Of the wandering Spider being out of retirement? She killed Santino.” John heard the door of his hotel room opening. Charlotte closed the door behind her, waving the bag full of breakfast to John as she walked by him.

“She did?” John asked Winston.

“Must have been quite the spectacle. I wonder how she sneaked into the Louvre.”

“You and me both. Thank you Winston.”

“You’re welcome John. Give my greetings to our sweet Charlotte. She needs to tell me how she did it, the next time she visits.”

“I will. Goodbye Winston.” John ended the call and focused on Charlotte who seemed awfully busy preparing the selection of breakfast she had brought with her.

“Anything up?” She asked, sitting down on a chair at the table, eating a whole strawberry, before she looked at John.

“Just Winston.” He said tossing his phone on the bed. Charlotte became suddenly very aware of the fact that John was only wearing his boxershorts as he made his way over to her. He would know by now what she did. What she did so he could rest.

John knelt beside her, taking her hand into his. His other hand brushing her cheek before he kissed her.

“I love you Charlotte Frost.” He whispered against her lips, as a tear of relief ran down his cheek.

#fanfiction #ff #fanfic #john wick #john wick x ofc #keanu reeves

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serahsanguine · 5 years

Text

Vacation Series Pt. 2. Halloween Surprises Ch, 3

This is the second book in a two-part series

Book one. - pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

Book Two. - pt. 1, pt, 2,

All chapters can be found Here on Ao3

This Chapter Rating; NC-17 NSFW

Tagging; @skullsmuldon @today-in-fic @baronessblixen @peacenik0

*********************************************

Chapter 3; Day 3 - bowling.

Scully woke up with Mulder’s erection pressing into the small of her ass. She couldn’t help but wiggle her hips against it hearing him moan in his sleep but as if on cue he woke up his lips against the back of her neck.

“Good morning beautiful.”

“Morning.”

His hand moved to around her front his finger trailing a line from her belly button to her breast.

“Then did you remove your belly button ring?”

“Couple of days ago.”

“Ahh” his fingers moved to her nipples pinching them.

“It was getting, oh fuck.”

She lost all thought when his tongue started dancing on her neck. His fingers trailing from one breast to the other and then down her stomach to the apex of her legs.

“Mulder please.”

“Your so wet Scully.”

“Don’t tease me please I need you.”

“I can see that but I want to please you, not just fuck you.”

He lightly pushed her shoulder down so now her back was flush with the mattress his mouth instantly found hers, they were wet, succulent, pouty and flushed. His tongue found hers and they slid against each other with a passion never felt before.

His fingers were back in her folds spreading her juices around extending the pleasure even more. He could watch her come undone with every movement of his fingers but decided he wanted to do more for her this morning as he looked down at her.

Her beauty beyond belief, her freckled skin flush with their lovemaking, her breasts so full and pronounced fitting perfectly in his hand. Her nipples slightly darker than they normally are but that could be the lighting. He trailed kisses from the crook of her neck down her chest. Taking a nipple into his mouth biting, suckling his tongue swirling making her moan and gasp under his scrutiny.

He moved his kisses down the middle of her stomach and one hand feathering up and down the side of her ribs. He kissed each hip bone before working his way down to in between her legs knowing she was literally dripping with desire he ran his tongue down each side of her vulva sliding his fingers into her and curling it finding her sweet spot.

Her back arched and her moans became louder as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, finding her clit with his tongue, swishing, sliding sucking creating magic. Her hands were in his hair first just running her finger through it, but as her climax began to build his fingers became too slow and she gripped his hair as his fingers slid in one more time, and with one last flick she came undone, her body shattering around him, her world colliding with his.

He stopped what he was doing and watched as her body trembled as the aftershocks took over her body. As soon as she opened her eyes he knew without words she wanted him inside her. With one hand next to her head, his body in between her legs and covering her, his other hand slid his member with ease inside her. Her body hugging him and he could feel her still pulsating around him. He filled her up and she enjoyed it. He started moving his hips and felt her stretch to acclimate to his girth. It didn't matter how many time they made love each time was different, new and exhilarating. She seemed to match his pace her legs wrapped around his hips crossing behind his back she moved to sit up, her body now resting on his thighs her hands wrapping around his neck looking directly in his eyes.

He took the invitation to start kissing her exposed neck. Her wet skin grazing his the bodies colliding in ways they never had before the new angle meant he was hitting her cervix and she, by all measures, was loving it.

She felt her body began to crave her climax and his pumping began to get frantic which only meant he was close to. With a mere few thrusts, her body shattered like glass around him her eyes closed and she savoured the feeling of him being inside her.

Her body became limp as she let the aftershocks take over but that did not stop him, he was so close and within seconds he erupted inside her his essence flowing from him. His head resting in the crook of her neck. Their bodies still entwined.

When he came back to himself, he slowly slid her off his hips and back onto the mattress she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“I could definitely get used to this,” Mulder said. He kissed her forehead and stood up and got off the bed.

“Mmm,” she replied sleepily.

“Go back to sleep if you want.” but when he looked around she was already back asleep he leaned over her wrapping a blanket around her form before heading off to the bathroom.

Later that day, Mulder, Scully and all three Lone Gunmen were in the main house Frohike had just finished cleaning the dishes from lunch and Scully was next to him drying. While Mulder, Langly and Byers were sitting in the living room.

“So Mulder do you fancy going bowling with us later?” Langly asked.

“How would that work there would be 5 of us?” Mulder said confused.

“Well we have thought about it and we could have to sides and one officater. And after each game we meaning us three” Byers pointed at himself first then Langly and Frohike “We would swap as officiater.

“Well I don’t see a problem with it but I would have to ask Scully.”

“Ask Scully what?” she said coming up behind him and leaning over the back of the sofa wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck placing a small kiss there.

“Do you want to go bowling later?” Mulder asked.

“Yeah, I Don’t see why not. What time are we thinking?”

“Oh not for a couple hours,” Langly said.

“We could all take the van,” Frohikie pipped up.

The van in question was a black transit, with rust around the wheel arches and along the door hinges.

“Like I’m risking going in that van,” Scully replied disgustedly.

“Oy Besty is perfectly safe and completely clean I pride myself in that beautiful van,” Frohike said a little hurt.

Scully looked at him and instantly felt guilty. “I’m sorry I didn't… ”

“It’s fine just don’t insult the van it’s his pride and joy,” Byers said quietly to Scully and she nodded in reply.

*************************

Bowling Alley

All five of them were on bowling lane 8 so right in the middle of bowling lanes that were there. It was Mulder and Scully versus Frohike and Langly, with Byers keeping tally. To get to this decision they had to each drawn straws from Mulder's hand and who drew the shortest officiated.

What the Lone Gunman did not mention to either Mulder or Scully was this was no ordinary bowling experience. Because during the week of Halloween they used bio-illuminance bowling ball as well as pins. On each side of the lane were different neon strips. They each had to wear glow sticks and images of cartoon ghosts, spiders and ghouls were projected on the walls around them.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Scully whispered to Mulder.

“Me neither but let’s enjoy it”

“Of course I will it’s been years since I last went bowling, plus we're so going to beat their asses,” she said eagerly.

“Definitely, but I warn you now Frohike is a sore loser,” he replied and chuckled bringing his arm around her shoulders and bringing her close, placing a kiss on top on top of her head.

“Oh, I know how to deal with him don’t worry,” she said slyly.

“Sometimes Scully you are a wicked woman.”

“Me?” she replied mockingly with an evil smile on her face as she stood up and went to find the bar for a small diet coke.

“Guys were going to need to flip a coin to see who goes first,” Mulder said to the Gunmen.

“Only if the delightful Scully flips the coin”

“Fine, Frohike wait till she comes back.”

No more than five minutes later Scully returned back with a diet Coke and an iced tea in hand placing them down on the table.

“Frohike wants you to flip a coin to see who bowls first.” Mulder placed the coin in her hand.

“Frohike, heads or tales?” she asked.

“Tails,” he said calmly.

“I take it you having heads than,” she said looking at him with a smile. His reply was a simple nod. She placed the coin on her thumb and flipped the coin, catching it and placing it on the back of her hand. She looked at her hand and it was tales. “Frohike start’s, good luck lads.” They each went and sat on their sides, Byers on the end, it was time to bowl.

Frohike went first picking a ball placing his fingers in the hole and walking over the lane lifting his arm behind him and swinging forward and letting go. The ball hitting the wood with a thud and rolling towards the pins.

“7-10 split on your first roll bad luck there,” she said smirking.

“Shit” Frohike muttered under his breath.

He looked over at Scully and she stuck her tongue out and slightly mocked him, but in a playful way. Mulder laughed and Langly scowled.

He waited for his ball and rolled again hitting one of the pins. Frohike looked at the floor and sat back down next to Langly.

“The floor awaits my lady,” Frohike said in a Lordly manner.

“Thank you oh kind Sir,” Scully replied in the same manner. She stood up grabbing her ball placing her fingers where they were meant to go and throwing Mulder a wink.

Mulder could not help but stare at her ass or at least the silhouette of her ass in the darkness.

“Mulder stop staring at my ass and concentrate on the game.” He was busted.

She threw her arm back and let the ball go, it hit the wood, all were watching the green glow of the ball roll towards the yellow pins and watching them fall one by one. She jumped up in the air as she hit the strike. Mulder clapping and Frohike looked devastated.

They spent at least 3 - 4 hours bowling, they had 4 games in total, the first game Mulder and Scully won, the game after that Byers took over Langlys spot so now Langly was officiating the points and they won that game as well. The third game Mulder and Scully won again with Mulder leading with points this time. Frohike wasn’t at all happy so they decided to have one last game and even put money on it saying they would win. Frohike was officiating, Langly and Byers bowling and they lost by a massive margin with Mulder and Scully leading with 4 strikes and a couple of spares. Mulder was right Frohike was a sore loser but to cheer him up Scully kissed his cheek and he instantly blushed but did not make another sound about bowling.

They were finally at home, The Lone Gunman had gone to the main house nicking some of the wood without permission but promising to chop more in the morning. Mulder was adding wood to the fire in the living room after starting the one in the bedroom. He looked over his shoulder at Scully. She was sitting on the couch in one of his T-shirts and some frilly panties, her hair in a small ponytail with her glasses on her nose. Her head in the book they got yesterday.

He turned back around watching the fire crackle and spark in front of him thinking about the future and listening to the waves.

“Come here I want to read one story with you before we go to sleep.”

He was so deep in thought watching the fire he completely missed what Scully said.

“What did you say?”

“I said stop staring at the fire and sit next to me so we can read a story before we go to sleep.”

He stood up, his bones cracking and creaking, he walked over to Scully his bare feet barely making a sound on the floor.

He sat next to her and she instantly hugging into his side closing her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. They stayed like this for a few minutes and she reopened her eyes and began to read.

“A Haunted House of 1862. During the civil war, a man owned a beautiful ancestral home. The family which owned the house came into financial hardship. They had to rent their home in order to save it. As soon as the first stranger set foot in the house trouble began. No one would stay in the house, it became a jinx. Stories were heard of hauntings and unaccountable happenings. Strangers moved in and quickly moved out. Finally, people began calling the home ‘The haunted house.’ a brave young man who scoffed at the idea of ‘ghosts and spirits’ decided to rent the house. He built a roaring fire in the living room fireplace. It was getting late, by the fire he sat there in an old rocking chair, he stretched his legs to the blaze, and he was amazed to see a big black catwalk into the room.”

She looked up at him and his head was resting on the back of the sofa his eyes closed his red pouty lips slightly open and a soft snore escaped there. He was asleep but she wanted to finish the story. So she carried on reading out loud not caring if no one is listening.

“The cat was large and tall; his body silhouetted against the wall. The man’s face turned white as a sheet. He quickly jumped out of his seat; he heard a voice cry - ‘There is no one here, but you and I!’ - This is the man reply ‘And soon there will be no one here but you!’ - wow!”

She looked back up at Mulder and kissed him on the cheek.

“Come on sleepy head time to go to bed, we can’t have you sleeping on the sofa”

He grumbled but complied and followed her up the stairs undressing and slipping under the sheets his body wrapping around hers, both of them drifting back to sleep.

#txf fanfic #TXF #msr fanfic #msr #mulder and scully #mulder and scully fanfic #The X-Files #the x files #the xfiles #The X Files Fanfic #the x-files fanfic

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g-idlescenarios · 5 years

Text

(g)-idle: First Kisses ~

anon request: OMG this is the kind of blog this world needed ;;; Could I request lil first kiss imagines with each of them? 💕

Soyeon

“Come to this party with me - you can meet the members officially!” Her voice turned cutesy, trying to persuade you into coming to a Cube Christmas Party. “I don’t know, I’m not an idol or a trainee... would they let me in?” “Don’t make excuses babe, I’ve got a plus one! I’ll pick you up at 7.” Reluctantly, you got dressed and did your make-up. When Soyeon arrived, she wasn’t expecting you to look so beautiful. It shocks her every time. You explained your nerves about meeting the other members and her friends from the company. “Please don’t be nervous - I’ve told them so much about you that they basically know you already.” Meeting each member was an absolute breeze, that it completely washed away the nervousness you felt this afternoon. You found yourself laughing and joking with them in no time. You were so distracted, that you failed to notice Soyeon staring at you with such heart eyes. She hadn’t realized how nervous she was too for you to meet the members. It was important for you guys to get along, even though she knew you would. So this is love, she thought. After letting you meet the members, she grabbed your hand and pulled you to go dance with her. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You giggle, enjoying the music and her body meshed against yours. Instead of answering, her right hand snakes up your body to hold your cheek, and kisses you softly. The kiss lasts for a couple seconds, before you pull away with a smile. “I’m glad you came tonight,” she smiled. “That makes two of us,” you grin, pulling her closer to do it again.

Miyeon

Miyeon and you had made plans to go on a picnic this afternoon, but neither of you were sure if this is a date. “IT’S A DATE!” The members had told her over and over again; yes, her crush, you, also had a crush on her. You two were the only ones that couldn’t see it. You decided to meet at the Han River, since she’s been wanting to show you one of her favourite places in Seoul. “I came here a lot when I was a trainee, isn’t is calming?” She asked you as you both set up the food. “Thanks for bringing me here, it’s so lovely.” You two continued to eat, talk, laugh, and slowly but surely move closer and closer to each other on the blanket. A small scooch here, a slight shuffle there, and somehow your legs were touching. Both of you tried to subtly display some sort of affection to figure out what this was - you’d touch her thigh, she’d tuck a strand of hair out of your face. Your heart was pumping and her hands were clammy. I should make a move soon, she thought, before I talk myself out of it. “I have a surprise for you,” she smiled, “close your eyes.” You did, and she quietly reached into her bag to pull out cupcakes - your favourite flavour. The smile on your face made it worth every penny. “Oh wait, you’ve got a little something on your lips...” A bit of icing rested on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll get it.” Without thinking, she leaned over to hold your chin, and was suddenly kissing you. It was short and quick, and you both pulled away in shock. You two couldn’t look away as a shy “I’m sorry,” came from her lips. “Are you sure you got all of it? I think I still feel some...” you smirk, as she gets the hint to kiss you again. FINALLY, someone made a move.

Minnie

Your girlfriend and you had spent all of December 31st looking for smoking hot, bomb-ass dresses to wear to the New Year’s Eve party your friend was hosting at their place the next day. “What about this one?” “Oh, we need one with more glitter!” A shopping date was something you did regularly, but today you both felt an exciting jolt of energy that only comes from the New Year. “This will be our last date and first date of 2019!” You said in passing while searching threw the racks, but the comment stuck with Minnie. She had an idea! Fast forward to the party, you both meet up early to get ready. “Are you okay Minnie, you seem a bit nervous?” You ask as the two of you do your make-up in the mirror. “I’m fine!” At the party, you both dance and eat and sing, and get slightly tipsy. Minnie watched you from across the room dance with your friend, and couldn’t help but feel a little envy... you were here with her, weren’t you? As she walked over to you, people began to count down. Neither of you had realized that it was so close to midnight, and your head snapped up in surprise, quickly scanning the party for your girlfriend. She walks quicker towards you and you match her pace. 10, 9, 8! “Babe,” she says a little breathless. 7, 6, 5! “Minnie, I-” 4, 3, 2! Before you can finish the clock strikes 12, and Minnie pulls you close to her. She pushes her lips on yours with a bit of force, one filled with passion. You kiss for what seems like minutes, making out in the middle of the dance floor. As you both break the kiss, breathless, the celebration seems to fade into the background, the only thing you can see is Minnie; her lips red and swollen from you. “Happy New Year,” you whisper, resting you forehead against hers. “Happy New Year, baby.”

Soojin

“Ugh!” An aggravated huff comes from across the studio, where your crush Soojin monitors her dance on her phone. “I can’t seem to get these steps,” she sighs, making her way over to you on the couch. “You don’t look that bad to me,” you try to keep calm as she sits right next to you, your thighs touching. “That’s because you’re not a dancer, you loser.” She often teases you like this, making fun of you in a playful way. But this time you weren’t gonna take it... “Fine then. Teach me it so I can critic you properly.” Soojin’s eyes snap open, and a chuckle escapes her mouth. “Oh please, that would take eons.” “I’m serious!” you exclaim, “they always say the best way to get something is to teach it to others... I will be ‘others’ tonight. C’mon, get up!” She laughs from the couch as you take off your sweater and begin to wiggle around, stretching out your limbs. “Hm. Fine... but only because I think this will be a disaster.” Slowly but surely, Soojin teaches you the choreography. And you’re both pleasantly surprised when you’re not half bad. Most of the night is spent giggling and mocking you. “No, here,” Soojin stands against your back as she guides your arm around your head. You thanked God that the dancing explained your pounding heart. The turn was the hardest part of the routine, and when trying to follow along to the music, your clumsy ass trips over your own feet. “Soojin!” You call out, before she attempts to catch you... but you both end up going down together. Your laughter fills the room as she falls on top of you. “Ugh, Y/N!” She whines, looking down at you. You looked so cute under her, with that stupid smile of yours on your face. You both looked into each other’s eyes for a moment too long, and the butterflies in your stomach grow. “Sorry,” you mutter quietly. In response, Soojin dips down, hovering her lips over yours. “That’s okay.” The kiss was long and drawn out, conveying that she was having a great time teaching you... even if you were a klutz.

Yuqi

"We’re going to the carnival tonight! Get ready!” You bounced into the girls’ dorm, as your girlfriend let you in. “Tonight?” “Tonight!” After a little pep talk, you got Yuqi into a cab and on your way to the carnival. “I haven’t been to one of those since I was young!” “I don’t think I’ve ever been to one before,” she admits once you get there. WHAT!? “Alright Miss Song - you’re going to get the entire carnival experience!” You take her to get some food truck snacks, to the fun fair booths, and carnival games. At some point, she wins you a heart shaped plushy, and you both buy fun animal-themed head bands. As the sun begins to go down, you drag her towards the Ferris wheel. “This is a must! Especially at sunset, you can see the city from up there.” In line, you recount stories from your childhood about you and your friends going together. She admires you from behind, a smile spreading across her face as she listens to you. “Alright, the next two please!” The worker calls to you guys, and Yuqi and you step into the basket hand-in-hand. As you begin to creep up the wheel, Yuqi notices that you’ve become visibly more tense. “Babe, what’s wrong - you’re afraid of heights!” She remembers quickly, throwing her arm around your shoulder. “Yeah, but you’re not... I want you to see the view from up here!” “You’re unbelievable,” she smiles, pulling you closer to her chest. “Close your eyes, and I’ll tell you when we can see the city.” After a couple minutes, you hear her ask you to open your eyes. And as you promised, the view was beautiful. “Wow,” she sighs, holding you close. “Isn’t it nice?” You smile. She turns to you, and smirks: “I know something prettier...” And before you can answer, she’s kissing you. Her touch is tender and gentle, the peck ending almost too soon for both of you. “Now you’ve got another carnival memory to tell your friends,” she laughs.

Shuhua

"That kiss is so completely un-real-istic!” You place emphasis on the last word. “What do you mean, it’s romantic!” Shuhua laughs at your disdain. You had never seen any of the Spider-man movies, and Shuhua wasn’t gonna have that. At the scene of the famous upside-down kiss, you both laughed and argued about whether or not that would be satisfying and worth the effort. “Like that cannot be comfortable, look at the angle of his neck! He’s bloody hanging from the sky!” You suddenly position yourself so that your head is hanging off the edge of the couch, with your feet up in the air. “Look at this Shuhua, my freaking head already hurts, how did they even do this.” As you groan on and on, Shuhua finds herself falling for you all over again. This crush of hers was getting to an unbearable point. Watching you rant was something she always found entertaining, but it was never about something she’d dreamed about before. If you so wanted to disprove this kiss scene, fine, she’d play along. “They have to like, break their necks Shuhua, ouch.” She moved herself to the floor, so that she could be face to face with you. “Let’s try it then.” Her hands went to your cheeks, and she kissed your lips. A small gasp left your mouth, which she only took as more encouragement to hold the kiss as long as she could. After a moment, she pulls away, and smiles down at you. “I think that worked pretty well, what do you think?” You slowly stutter your words, not sure what to say. “If Peter felt at all the way I feel about you, I’d say any position would make a kiss perfect.” You smile shyly as she helps you sit up. “Wanna try again?” The movie is soon forgotten, replaced with kisses and snuggles.

I hope you like this anon, thanks for the support xx.

137 notes · View notes

madmadmilk · 5 years

Note

i mean i miss LDC and i gave up hope on domino lmao

(domino is SO hard to get back to–– but i’m tired of holding onto it. here’s what i have written SO FAR. idk what is in it cos it’s been so long, but enjoy! maybe i’ll finish it haha/// also this is totally unedited so there’s lots of typos and missing italics but––– here u go)

DOMINO PART 10 | Tom Holland x Reader (# F I N A L L Y) incomplete version

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You know things have fallen into place, and that you should feel safe and secure but the weight of it all sure is heavy.

Warning: bittersweet scents, smut, and falling (action)

Word Count: 6K so far lmaOOOOOOOO

“Oh my god, is this supposed to hurt? Cos, it really fucking hurts–” Harrison hisses, the sharp “s” sounds cutting through the air.

“Awww, can’t handle a little bit of pain, Haz?” you tease, letting your tongue flick in an exaggerated drawl.

“Well, it’s my fucking face,” he whines.

Zendaya giggles, chiming in as she brushes her hair over her shoulder, “Tom doesn’t have any problem with it…”

Tom sit backs, rolling his shoulders as he tilts his head to look at you,

“Well, I have Y/N to kiss it better.”

You laugh, mumbling for him to shut up.

Harrison retorts quickly, lowering his voice to lay on the charm,

“Well, maybe if Zendaya does it,” he licks his lip while bowing his head, “I’ll feel a little better.”

“I’d just rip the damn thing off,” Zendaya laughs mercilessly.

Harrison makes a shocked face, recoiling away from Zendaya as she playfully hulks over to him. He has half of a black nose-strip stuck on, his skin pink from the tugging. His eyes were pricked red with tears.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Zendaya says softly as she gets closer. You catch her tapping his chin upward, and see the soft look he gives back to her. They bicker a bit, but it makes you feel warm to hear it.

“Nasty,” you hear Tom mumble beside you. You turn back to him, and he’s looking down at his porestrip, blanching at what it had pulled out. He looks up at you with bright, excited eyes as he sings, “Lemme see yours!”

You scrunch your face as you hand it over to him, and he starts comparing the hills and mountains between you.

“Fucking disgusting—”

“Hey!” you huff, putting your hands on your hips. You bump his shoulder with your hip as he sits on the couch.

He makes a face, and hugs your waist easily, dropping the strips in the trash besides you. You look down at him and see that he still has black residue on his nose, and you scrape it off gently,

“Sorry, sorry, love. You’re gorgeous,” his voice scratches low and sexy and teasing.

“You know you are.”

Tom mumbles that, rubbing his face into your shirt, and you can feel his nose drag across your clothed skin. You laugh as you bend down to pound your fists into his back, and then hug him playfully.

Sugary sweet.

Maybe too sweet.

Zendaya makes snippy comments about how mushy you guys are, and Harrison hugs her waist with a little hesitation. She hugs him easily, but you know it’s just her bravado coming out. It makes you laugh to see their clumsy act and debate whether or not they were worse than you and Tom.

You see Zendaya easily sit on the arm of Harrison’s chair, hugging him gently with her manicured nails raking through his hair.

A pretty family portrait.

What a lovely feeling to have your friends in one place together, to have your feelings organized and put out for show.

But this is all just for a little while–

Harrison had his big break, his PA thing, and Zendaya was always busy, but now she would be busy in Europe.

They had each other though, and they could see each other often.

Europe wasn’t too far away, right?

Tom…

No clue how that would pan out.

Tom feels your body tense under him, how your body ran cold and you stood still. He hugs your waist tighter, his hands pulling your shirt a bit, as he spoke some hopeful words,

“Hey, hey, we’ll be alright, if you want us to be.”

He said that a lot.

It doesn’t always put you at ease.

Because, of fucking course you wanted it to work out. Of course you wished for the best, and trying your hardest, but what do you do if the odds continue to stack against you?

You look down at the pretty boy in your arms again, his big doe eyes looking up at you. You ruffle his messy curls in turn and hum,

“Okay.”

Then Tom whispers the words you never get tired of hearing, and you hold onto to every syllable, click of his tongue, rasp of his voice.

Okay.

You all wash the remnants of the masks off, splitting up into your seperate bathrooms. You change and return back to Zendaya’s room upstairs, the sacred room, previously hidden and now open. Open to more than just you, to her closest friends. But specifically to one though.

You and Tom would hear Harrison’s door open and close in the night, the excited steps padding up the stairs. You always giggled about it, were warmed by it, and were very aware that in a lot of ways they were more reserved than you already were with Tom.

You enter back into Zendaya’s room, seeing Haz first, with his laptop in hand while searching for a movie to watch. He had a loose batman onesie on, yellow cap fluttering behind him. Zendaya was dressed like a giraffe, her long legs spread across her huge bed while on her phone.

You were wearing a baggy Spider-Man pajama set, jumping into the room to catch their attention.

“I hate you guys,” Tom grumbles behind you, dressed like a big, green frog. He hasd his hand on his hips and lips puckered.

You turn back to hug his waist, biting your lip and giggling. He hugs you back and rocks you back and forth, glad to see you smiling, at least.

“Embrace the meme,” Harrison addsed, snickering from behind his laptop. Zendaya snortsed.

Tom rolls his eyes and pulls up your hood so that you have half of the Sspider-Mman mask on your face. He pokes your nose softly and sings,

“Okay, okay, as long as Ii get to be the frog in your mouth, I don’t care.”

You laugh and push him away as he bends to kiss your cheek.

Zendaya rolls herhis eyes, hopping off the bed, and you see that the onsie is a little too short for her legs, ironic for the giraffe costume., “We get it, we get it.”

You stick your tongue out and run up to hug her too, “You’ll always be my MJ!” you stick your tongue out, “Wanna reenact the Sspider-Mman kiss?”

She pulls the mask over your eyes, “In your dreams.”

“Yeah, Ii guess,” you retort, jutting a chin at the flustered blonde, “Batman’s looking a little lonely.”

Harrison’s cheeks flush as he adjusts his glasses.

“Awww, miss me already?” Zendaya teases.

“Can we just watch a movie?” he retorts, exasperatedly.

You guys set up a projector, showing it on a blank wall opposite of the bed. You turn down the lights, and crawl into bed together.

You and Z crawl into the middle, Tom by your side and Harrison curled up next to her. You all fit together perfectly, with a lot more room than the trunck of a car.

You lean your head against Zendaya’s shoulder, and her head leansed back on Harrison. YourYou eyes trailed down and seeaw their hands holding each other. It makes you smile.,

“Gross,” you whisper to her.

Zendaya scoffs, kicking your leg, before smoothing her foot against you.

Tom sticks close behind you, laying on his side so that his arm easily falls over your stomach. You can see that his sleeves are rolled up, exposing his skin, cut with veins.

You play with his fingers, rolling them between yours, and he hugs you close to him. You could feel him let out a content sighn behind you.

You guys watch Thor: Ragnarok, deciding that you don’t want to watch anything too serious on this last night together. You guys laugh a bit, kicking each other and squirming, making the bed a whole lot hotter than it needed to be.

Harrison fallsfell asleep first, soft snores and a limp arm on Zendaya. Then you feel felt her settle into the bed, turning away from you a bit, her sleepy voice was barely audible,

“… you guys can ju…just sleep up here,” she offersed, a lazy hand waving, “Stay in the bed… or there’s a pull out couch over there–”

You smile, kissing her shoulder, “Thanks.”

Your room wasn’t far away, and it surely wouldn’t be a hassle to move, but Zendaya wanted you guys to stay together. Even if it was just for a night. She humsmed happily.

You look over your shoulder, towards the couch, and are met with sleepy, dark eyes. Tom was still wide-awake;, he did always say that he hasd a hard time falling asleep.

Your stomach does a little flip, and he pushes himself against you, suddenly feeling his hard bulge on your ass. You smile as his arms hug you tight,

“Turn around, love.”

You don’t.

He brings his hands up and down your body, one on your back andan the other on your waist. He smooths the hot felt fabric on your skin and you wanted nothing more thant to take off the claustrophobic fabric. Your eyes flicker up to your friends in front of you.

They arewere fast asleep, and you cancould only imagine what she would say if she sawsay you in this compromised position.

You give in and turn in your spot.

The low rumble of the movie in the background, and flashes of bright color on Tom’s face makde your heart flutter. Your lips twitched into a smile, as you settled into his arms just to look up at him for a moment.

His cheek is was pushed up against the pillow, his wild eyebrow remaininged unruly, andthere was a wrinkle between his brows in longing. You decide it’s time to make a movemovie.

The second you lifted your chin, his lips are were on yours. Your clammy, sweaty hands reached up for his face, to pull him closer as you breathed into each other. You could feel the waves of heat blow on your face and ripple through your body as you makde out with Tom.

You hear shifting on the bed behind you, which makes you immediately pull away and exclaim,

“I can’t do this!”

Tom laughs, finally grinning. He looks over your shoulder, raising his brows and doesn’t see any movement behind you. He shrugs, and unbuttons the top of your Sspider-Mman onesie. And then another, and another, and then he whines,

“Ffuck , babe,” he leans his head back and makes a face, seeing that all you haved on iwas a lacy bralette. He makes a whiny noise and then kisses your collar,

“I can’t not do this.”

You giggle, playfully pulling his hair as he peppers kisses on your neck and collar. His hand reaches up and pulls the Sspider-Mman hood over your head. Then itthey holds your sides, and he kisses your nipples through the bra. You stifle a moan, and replace it with a hard shudder.

“… Aaren’t you supposed to be in my mouth?” you reference, pulling at his vibrant green costume.

He laughs, “Yyou want me to be there?”

You nod, and he smiles, eyes crinkling as he sits up a bit, shrugging off the top portion of his onesie. He hasd nearly nothing on underneath, his hard chest and abs glowing under the faint light. You bite your lip as he dips closer, crawling over to hang over you.

“..Mmmm” a sound comes from your side. Zendaya shifted again.

You pull your shoulders up and let out a string of curses, Tom laughs, sitting back on his heels, tilting his head at you. You went all those years before goofing off in front of your friends, and now you suddenly couldn’t? Hilarious.

Tom reaches out towards you, a finger tracing a line on the side of your face. He pushes it against your lips,

“Pull-out?”

“Excuse me?” you stutter at his implication.

He smiles wider, and his voice is light,

“The couch. Let’s move to the pull-out couch, babe.”

You brush his hands away, as he hops off the bed. You follow in suit, before turning around and throwing a blanket over youryou sleeping friends.

You walk up next to him, and he throws a heavy arm over your shoulder,

“Damn, Y/N. What were you thinking about?”

You scrunch your face, looking at how he let the onesie hang around his hips, his body flexed in a way that is just unfair. You don’t say anything in return, just content under his arm.

Tom sets down on the couch, and you follow in suit, laying on top of him. He tucks your hair behind your ear, and takes a second to look at you. You look a little sleepy, a little flustered, and a little in love. His heart breaks for a moment, before filling back up with warmth.,

“Now, where were we?”

You laugh, resting your forehead against his chest.

Exactly where we want to be.

You and Tom have slow and fragile sex on Zendaya’s couch, moaning and whispering against the soft snores of your friends in the dark.

…

So, please don’t leave me, baby.

“Ah!” you wake up to a soft, but sharp moan.

Your eyes squint open against the bright light, in a room that’s familiar.. But not quite. You’re in Zendaya’s room.

You look down at the weight of your chest, a pretty boy sprawled on top of you… His eyes awere shut and he was not the source of the noise.

You hear muffled curses and giggles of a certain couple across the room. Your eyes widen in realization and a hand flies to cover your mouth.

Tom stirs, and you look at him with bulging eyes, and he mouths, “what?” You both spend a couple of minutes listening to your friends fuck in the bed beside you. His jaw drops, before he smiles and nods, biting his lip, “go, H!”

Ok. So, they’re a thing. Like a real thing, definitely? Yeah? Right?

The exclamations from Zendaya and grunts from Harrison made it seem like they were a thing.

You and Tom hold each other tightly, stifling yourselves from laughing in embarrassment and a fit of “oh GOD’s.” Maybe they didn’t know you were still there?

And lord knows how long this’ll go on for––

Tom sits up, still hidden by the back of the couch that faces them, and crawls up to you. He holds a cheeky finger up to his lips as one hand pushes down on your shoulder. You shake your head slowly, and then quickly in realization. He smiles a toothy fucking grin, as he leans in to kiss you.

“No,” you laugh., “Sstop,” you whisper, but your arms are through (Did you mean “threw”? Or “thrown”? I’m not really sure what “through around” means) thrown around Tom, forcing him closer despite your verbal protests. He smiles against you, fingers wandering across your body.

“Make me.”

You look at him defiantly, but you’re kind of turned on by all this– Tom’s fingers cautiously play with the hem of your panties, maybe still damp from last night, or from the sounds of the morning. He massages your slowly, playing with the slickness.

“Think of me, and not Harrison, alright?” he mumbles, fingers pushing into you.

Your thighs squeeze around his arm, and you make a face. He was intentionally going at the same pace as Haz and Z, listening to their gasps and letting you match up with them. Kind of hard to ignore.

The sights and sounds of the room fade away, and you can only feel Tom’s skilled fingers inside you, and the way that your face feels numb. Your body shudders and shakes as you reach your high, only brought back by a certain pair in ecstacy too.

“Fuuuckk….”

“Oh shit––” you hear your pretty friend say, and you haved no idea what that was in reference to.

“Let me get a towel, sorry,” Harrison mumbles, his voice a lot deeper and huskier and hotter than usual, making you feel a blush in your chest. Tom licks his fingers clean and playfully pushes your shoulder at your reaction to it.

Harrison fumbles around the room, and you hear the bathroom door open. It makes you giggle and Tom sloppily kisses your chest as he lays back down against you. Your body is still wracked with soft tremors, and he hugs you.

Zendaya starts to move around the room, and that makes you flustered. Your sputter a bit, trying to push him off of you so you could get under the blankets and hide your face. But he won’t wouldn’t let you, hugging you with a vice like grip as he gets to hide himself. You shut your eyes and pray that you could keep it together and just pretend to be asleep.

You can feel and hear Zendaya look over the side of the couch to see you. Your eyes are probably held shut tighter than they need to be.

She tuts her lips, and just hangs there for a second.

You sigh, opening your eyes to see her looking a little flushed and bright and glowing.

You open your mouth, but she speaks first, talking back to the blonde in the room,

“Yeah the lil shits are asleep–– Don’tDont’ worry.” She winks at you.

You sputter back at her, but no words come out, just incredulrecudlous sounds. She scrunches her face and smiles dazzlingly,

“This makes us even.”

She turns her head, a beautiful crown of curls flaying out. You hear them both retreat back into the bathroom, conversations muffled as the door closes. You hear the shower run.

“.. Wwhat the fuck,” Tom’s voice cracks, lifting his face from your chest.

Both of you guys burst into a fit of laughter as you accuse him of selling you out, and he says that you’re a terrible actress. You hold his warm back under your hands, and he’s propped up on his elbows, hands under you.

The sun hits his face just right, catching a bit of glow, and his hair shines an almost red-brown. It makes you smile, shutting your eyes for a moment to breathe out.

“Y/N?”

You hug him for a second, before pulling his hair back,

“Let’s get out of here.”

After a few hours, Haz and Z are were both set to leave forto Europe. They are were going their separateseperate ways–, not just from you, but from each other. He hasd his own string of gigs in one place, and so does did she.

Kinda heartbreaking in more ways than one.

Zendaya gives you a big hug and you throw youryou arms around her too. She leans into you more than usual, holds you a little longer, and talks a little softer. It makes you sad.

“I’ll be back in no time. T, take care of yourself.”

“I should be saying that to you!” your voice kind of breaks, but you smooth it over with a joke, “Keep killing it, Z.”

She laughs, pulling away from you to hold your shoulders at arm’s length. You could swear her eyes were a little teary already, “I’ll literally be back here in a month. Everything here is yours. Don’t be shy, girl.”

You make an ugly pouting face, “Yeah, thanks, Z. I’ll–– I’ll watch over things for you.”

“Don’t you dare let my cacti die!”

“I’ll try my best.”

You both struggle to find the words to say, knowing that this time the period of separation would be a lot longer. You’ve both been through a lot, and have been each other’s biggest support system… Wwhat would things be like apart?

“Hey, fly out as soon as you can. We got tickets for you whenever you want it,” she coos, her thumb brushing against your cheek.

“Thanks, babe,” you say quietly, looking anywhere but her amber eyes. You stare at her changing curls, nodding softly.

“”I’m serious, I’m going to be pissed if I don’t see you out there with us!”

“I know,” you laugh, shifting your weight.

It’s going to be hard, honestly. You’re in your last year of college, and you have your own real life pressures weighing on you. Dropping it all to go to Europe with your friends sounds like an amazing deal but…

Zendaya drops her bag and nearly knocks you over in a hug again,

“I’m going to miss you so fucking much!”

Tears blur your vision as you hug her back, burying you face into her collar, muffling yourself,

“I know, I’m going to miss you too.”

It hurts to say it out loud.

“Eat your goddamn breakfast, okay?” she says, prolonging it all, trying to pour all her sentiment at once.

You nod into her and pull away, both of you rubbing your noses and wiping your eyes. They are were both rimmed red as you break into laughter.

Zendaya takes a step back, and Harrison moves forward, hugging you and rubbing your back, he pullings you up on your toes. You hug him back, leaning a cheek on his shoulder,

“You take care of her––”

“I will.”

“And take care of yourself too, dummy.”

He gives you a hard pat on the back, laughing as he rolls his neck back. His observant eyes pore over you, reading the stress in your face. He kisses your forehead and squeezes your shoulder reassuringly,

“Call me when you can. You know Ii’m alway by my phone.”

You laugh, sniffling. You’ve been through it all with him, weird wet dreams, kisses, friendship, fake fucking dating? You were sure you could conquer it all with him. And he means so much to you.

You watched the two of them pack up their stuff and shuffle out the door. They geot picked up and driove off, and you watched until you can’t couldn’t see the car anymore.

You step back from the door, shutting it. And the silence is deafening for a moment, white noise echoing, and cold.

Warm arms wrap around your waist, and a head rests against yours, bringing you back to reality even for a moment. You weren’t sure if you wanted it back though.

“”Tom?”

He responds by kissing your shoulder.

You settle your back against him, and you can feel all the words he wants to say in this hug.

He made the silence quiet (what does this mean?) , he brought back the sparks of life and why it was worth living.

Tom is was staying as long as he can, stretching out this moment to its limits.

Hopefully, it doesn’t snap.

You turn around and hug his chest, willfully avoiding his face. You know it would break your resolve, make you crumble, make you cave, make you cry.

You stand in the foyer together, standing still.

Two of your good friends are were away now, Laura is was conquering the world on her own press tours, Jacob is was flying out from his home.

You are were here.

And Tom is was here.

But for how much longer?

Tom begins to sway side to side, humming a song and smoothing your hair. Your felt your fingers itch to grab and claw and beg him to stay. You vibrateing in an odd anger, a strange guilty, a peculiar sense of calm.

Your body quietsed and you let yourself just hug him. Just enjoy this.

It’s important for you to feel these things, to not stifle yourself. You’ll regret suppressing these emotions when you look back. Too often we are content with feeling nothing. There are were some facts to face, and you would prefer to approach them with sincerity, so that you don’t look back and feel the disappointment of “what could have been.”

Still, they are were hard facts to face.

“We’ll be okay, babe,” Tom comforts.

You were going to be alone.

Tom hasd one last day with you in LA. You spendt it waddling around the house together, arms tucked tightly around his waist and sticking to him like a shadow. He laughsed and tells told you it is was hard to walk this way, but you don’t didn’t have the heart to let go and he doesn’t didn’t have the heart to tell you to.

Usually you would have liked to take a nap with him, sleep away you r worries in his arms, but you don’t didn’t want to waste any time.

Tom hasd to pack a few things, so you siat on his bed, watching him run around the room. He pacesd a lot, and looksed back at you often. His face softensed when he catches caught your eyes, smiling a little.

It was sinking in.

He stops mid-packing, clothes and half-folded and thrown around the floor. He just throws threw his hands up, saving the trouble for later and joinsed you in bed.

You can could tell by his hungry expression that he wantsed to have sex. Wild, passionate, loving, good bye sex… but you don’t didn’t want to. Not tonight.

“You sure?” he asks, hand tracing up your thigh. His voice is was a little disappointed, “You don'tdont want anything from me?”

You nod, blinking slowly.

“Are you alright?”

You nod again, lip trembling.

“Yeah.. yeah, I’m fine.”

Tears spilled out of your eyes,

“Sh-shit, haha, sorry,” you laugh, looking up at the ceiling so that they won’t wouldn’t fall. You sniffle and shake your head, “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want right now… but.. I just want to hold you.”

You bring your head back down to look at him. Hair sticks to your face a bit, and you try to smile,

“I just want to cuddle.”

Tom’s eyebrows crinkle and he lets out a loud exhale, stretching his arms out,

“Of course! That’s fine, babe, whatever you want!”

You smile, wiggling into his arms as you hug him back. You smell the detergent on his clothes and, the faint scente of his sweat and just take it in. You nuzzle into his neck, and feel the rumble of his voice as he speaks,

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

He rubs your back and you hug him, fingers stretching wide across his back. You enjoy the silence together, listening to each other’s steady heartbeats and breath.

Tom kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, hands smoothing down your clothes––

“Tom,” you say warningly. You end it with a laugh and look down at him.

He smiles apologetically, pretending that he wasn’t up to no good. You can’t couldn’t resist those big brown eyes, innocently looking up at you.,

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just memorizing you, alright.”

Fuck.

You feel felt a stab in your chest at his words. Don’t memorize, you think to yourself. You don'tdont’ want to be apart long enough to even miss each other.

All this is just reminding you further that he’s going to be away.

Far from home.

Tom’s curious hands move over your waist, and stomach, fingers feeling the ripples and contours of you.

“I don’t want to forget anything.”

And that just makes you feel worse, and you wonder if he feels felt your stomach drop because he corrects himself quickly,

“I won’t forget anything.”

He pats your hip, reassuring you with the same words you’ve heard over and over this whole week. At this point, it doesn’t mean anything anymore,

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m right here.”

It’s more of a painful reminder that he’ll be gone.

“… Nnot for much longer.”

“But Ii’m here now, that’s what matters most––”

“But––!!”

Tom smiles, smacking his lips and shaking his head. His brows twitchtwtich then hardened as he leans closer,

“Don’t think about it. We only know.. What’s here right in front of us.”

He reaches out and pulls your hair out from under you, smoothing it behind your shoulder.

It’s funny how he knows what to say, and how to reassure you. You’re still working on finding ways to be better for him, better to him.

“We can only control what’s right here, right now.”

You breathe out a smile, making him grin too. He tickles your sides for a second, forcing you to laugh, giggly, bright and true. You settle into each other’s arms again, and your fingers lightly trace shapes into his arms, then smooth to hold under his elbow. You flick your eyes up and whisper,

“You’re a real romantic, you know that Tom?”

He shrugs, one side of his mouth pulling higher than the other. He props his head up on his arm so that he can look down on you. In a sleepy voice he waggles his head,

“I try to be. Just for you.”

You make a gross face, soon covered by smiles again. You take a second to look up at him, your eyes twinkling softly. The space between you feels like nothing.

You lean up to kiss him, and Tom leans down.

Warm lips meet each other, all the words fall away, and this moment is yours.

It’s the exact, soft and tender kiss you had always dreamed about. The one where in the movie where the camera pans around the pair, rain is falling or the sun is shining brightly. The main theme song plays, and the audience erupts into thunderous applause––

You got the main lead, that part was to the t. But his lips get a little rough, his hands touch places that are a bit more rated-r, and he tugs on your clothes––

“Hey, no funny business, alright?” you hum, laughing.

Tom’s nose nuzzles into your cheek as he laughs, sighing exaggeratedly, “Nothing gets past you, darling.”

You nod, tilting your head up, exposing your neck. He takes the hint, kisses your sweet skin, and your hands roam under his shirt, lifting it up to feel his chest. Your fingers spread a warm blush across his chest as you tease,

“I just want to….” a hand dances around hem of his sweatpants, “Remember you too.”

You touch him soft and slow, memorizing the curve of his thigh, his knobby knees, the mole on his back, his wrists, his ears, his neck, his––

The slow kisses bleed into slow sex.

“I love you, Tom holland.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he lifts his head, and past his wavy brown hair, you see big brown eyes. They’re smoldering with something for you, something you confidently understand is love. His smile makes your heart break for the fourth time this day, but he fills it back up with burning affection,

“And I will always be thinking of you.”

And with that, Tom left.

Gone.

Miles and miles and hours and hours away.

He left on a good note, both of you madly in love. Both of you desperate to keep the fire going, to keep the spirit alive.

And it did, for a little while. And it wasn’t desperate, at first.

Your good friends were away, pursuing their careers, and you were at home doing the same. Your last year of college was starting soon, and your internship would pick up next week. There were plenty of things to keep you mind busy, to point your attention somewhere else.

Tom kept up with the messaging for the first few days, and you did you best too, coordinating time-zones and sleep schedules. You took turns staying up for each other until things had to tighten up.

You found yourself spending a lot of your spare time sleeping, saving up for when you could see his sleepy face on your phone screen, or just to pass the time. Sleep was a good way to avoid your repsponsiblilties, and make tomorrow come a touch sooner. And you never really spent much time excerisng outside, but now you take daily walks, just to get yourself out of the house. The fresh air felt good.

You knew it would be too easy to hole up, and hide away.

You get a message from Zendaya every morning and night, sometimes you hold a conversation together, and sometimes they’re just little reminders or jokes. You guys made it a point to send each other pictures whenever you could. You make sure she sees you smiling.

Harrison messages you a bit too, he’s been all over the place. Photoshoots, filming, and his stuff with Spider-Man, he almost seemed busier than Tom. You’re kind of jealous, actually. Just in the way that he handles it all so well, being apart from his friends so well. You take inspiration from him, and always send him warm wishes.

You really only see Laura through instagram these days, babe was real busy.

Jacob was more of the same.

Dear, dear friends, living lives without you.

It makes you sad, but it’s nothing to feel real, lasting pain over. You feel a genuine sense of happiness and pride when you see their smiling faces, they’re really doing their very best out there.

And so should you.

In the last licks of summer, you went out to the beach with some friends from college. You enjoyed the hot sun, and sting of the ocean waves. You take in deep breaths and remind yourself that your world relies on you and no one else.

Not that you’re thinking of revolving around a certain someone.

You post some pictures you know you look great in on instagram, wanting to put your own foot in the rally of your famous friend’s posts.

It was a set of three pictures, the first was a tasteful side view, your eyes bold and brave, licks of salt through your hair.

You create a bit of a whirlwind, hollers and love and compliments pour in from your friends. They didn’t forget you, no, they’re happy to see you doing well on your own. These little interactions keep you going.

Tom didn’t comment too much though.

You check your instagram photos, and he leaves a like, and a little cryptic emoji. It makes you smile, and drives the fans wild.

You wish it were a little more than that though.

You spend a lot of nights in Tom’s room, clinging to the smell he left behind. You wrapped yourself up in his blanket, pushing pillows around you to mimic his presence. You wear his shirts, and use his bathroom, just to pretend he’s there.

And that was all fine too, until the scent started to wear away.

That was when you started to sleep in your room, and shut his door. You only came in there when you missed him most, sitting against the doorframe and look up into the quiet room. It smelled like him, looked like the way he left it….

But it wasn’t a replacement for Tom.

Not at all.

It made you cry… a lot.

Not sobs, not shaking, trembling tears. Just the occasion drip of tears, or prick in your eyes when you felt extra lonely. Looking at his shirt hung on the back of your chair made your eyes squint and lips press together.

Tom… didn’t message you as much as you would have liked.

You’re understanding though. He was filming, he was travelling, he was going out with his own friends. That’s fine. That totally fine. You were on the grind too.

A month has gone by, school has started. You’re juggling the internship, a full load of classes, and taking care of yourself. You had to squeeze him in the cracks, just as he has to do for you.

Every time you got to get a glimpse of his face in a all, he was in a car, or he couldn’t talk privately, or was about to sleep, or get out of bed.

It’s so fucking frustrating.

“Are you alright?”

“Of cuorse”

“Hey, show me your face darling”

You don’t reply

“Y/N?”

You show him

“.. oh, babe.”

“Sorry! I.. i don’t want to make you feel guilty or antyhing, I’m ok, really.”

He doesn’t speak this time

“I.. i just really fuckign miss you that’s all. And i’m so fuckign tired, ah, you dont want to hear this.”

“No, no i do want to hear it.” “please, tell me what’s on your mind. It’s hard to read you when we’re thousands of mile apart.”

Oof.

“… that’s what’s tearing me apart. The fact that we’re apart.”

“Babe– I can––”

“No, no, stay where you are,” you manage to laugh, “I’m not… asking to see you. Or well, I am, but… you know.”

“I know.”

You sigh, “I.. I just want to talk to you a little bit more. You’re doing your thing, and I’m doing mine, but I want to .. hear about it. At least, and like, from you.”

Tom laughs,

“Sorry, I’ve been a shit boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

“That’s what I am, aren’t I?”

You laugh, “Not sure if you’ve officially asked me.”

“Well, this is me officially asking you,” his voice is light and lovely, “Will you be mine?”

“Oh, please just say it tom.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You laugh, and it clicks in you. This was it, this is all you needed from him. Pieces of reassurance to keep the line going. It’s not needy, or desperate, it’s just the comfort you need.

“Of course.”

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